DEPLOYED: "Hello my Name is Bob, and I am a Rip It Addict"

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5it9Ejt We all know that guy who wherever he goes, he has an energy drink. But have you ever seen this on a large scale? Anybody who has spent time in the sand box has, it is called mass Rip It addiction. It is a weird phenomenon, either you never tried one or are shaking in a corner with one in each hand.

I was first exposed to this evil on my first deployment, these little innocent looking 8oz cans in the galley. We used to walk to the chow hall with empty back packs just so we could load up. Just thinking about it makes me itch and twitch.

We would grab a bite, and then walk to the cooler. We then would clean out the cooler of Rip It. My ruck would weigh 30lbs in Rip It's alone. Many times we got chased by chow hall staff for cleaning them out. At one point I was knocking back 18 a day, how my heart didn't explode I will never know.

The best part is they are free. Yup, you don't have to pay a dime for all the heart popping goodness of Rip It. The thing is they don't taste that great,  and they don't even give you energy, they just make you awake.

But when you leave the AOR what do you do? Buy them locally.

When you are back from that sandy place, you no longer have free access to these bad boys. But rejoice Rip It addicts, you can get them cheap. I have found them at dollar stores, and the Commissary for .89-.99 cents.

Rip IT

Rip It addiction is something harsh, and you will zero in on one if you see it. When I came back from my first tour we had none locally available. I had to endure cold sweats, general lack of alertness, and trying to fill the gap with monster and red bull.

Well it wasn't the same, they actually gave you energy. Not to mention they tasted good and were expensive. Luckily I wasn't alone, and we stood together. Lots of hang in there man, and "I would suck your D for a rip it", not that I ever did. Six months later I had kicked the habit cold turkey.

A short while later we were gearing up for deployment, was supposed go to Japan. Then at the last moment we saw boxes of desert camo. Then you heard the word that caused a great many to do the junky scratch:

Back to the Sandbox.

A short time later we were touching down in the sandy shit hole again. Many were shaking, twitching, and scratching. After we in processed there was a hard dash to the chow hall. The madness began again.

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Fridges full of Rip It at work, cans all over the shop, on the aircraft, and people walking with a tool box in one hand, Rip It in the other.

Shortly thereafter I was moved to another site where we didn't have a Rip It supply. So when we got supplies from the main site, the Rip It was half the load. We began doing trades and deals with Rip Its and processed MRE cheese. I swear you could trade for anything with that bacon cheese.

Then the deployment ended, we went home ready to face the detox. But when we got home we found them in the commissary and the dollar stores.

Even now I drink and offer them to returning people from the sand box. I love walking into the shop back home, Rip It in hand. I have many young guys getting ready to go out the door and I warn them all the same. Don't drink these or you might offer to suck some contractors D for another.

Oh by the way, they really don't taste like ass. Sort of...

~Easy C. Military Aeronautics Correspondent Easy M. is a sailor in the US Navy who busts his knuckles on airplanes. When not chasing wires, he is often found with Rip It in each hand. (Easy is active duty military, for his personal security he is using a pen name)