Lisa got on my case about my Christmas journal entry.
I have to admit that it was gloomy as the mood I was in. However, it reflects how I was feeling. Like anything else, mood come and go, and my gloomy mood left a couple of days ago with the delivery of the mail.
Mail is still as important as it was 40, 58, and 64 years ago in different wars in different places. Although I love skype, email, and satellite phones - there is something special about receiving a card or package. Its a tangible connection to home that means someone took the time to sit down and think about me. It means more so when it comes from people who are absolute strangers.
In the past two days I got mail. Twice. Packages. Twice!
My favorite came from Lisa. It was a package that had a dvd of Samantha's performance in her middle school's production of High School Musical. I was stunned to see how grown she was on stage. I was not stunned to see that those ballet lessons never paid off. Samantha was having so much fun up there that the smile on my face was the first true moment of joy I can remember in a while.
I want to thank the strangers and everyone from church who sent cards - especially the choir who sent a card signed by everyone.
Thanks to Greg and Marilyn who sent among other things, Scrabble! Before us old(er) guys started playing Guitar Hero III we were talking about getting a Scrabble game board. Excellent. The books and magazines make a great addtion to the library.
Thanks to Mrs. Van Dusen's North Utica 1st grade class who sent me a dozen hand made Christmas cards - each addressed to "My Buddy" with all of the classic first grade phonetic spellings that made each a treasure.
All of these gestures, big and small, meant a world to me and my mood is better. The New Year is 26 hours away. There is talk of a bon fire, camel races, and gator races. Maybe I'll stay up past my bed time and check it out.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Kalsu Christmas
Christmas has come and gone on FOB Kalsu. The New Year’s Eve bon fire and celebration is just a few days away.
Our Christmas in Iraq started weeks before when we received decorations from several wonderful people back in the US. I put up my tree and decorated it with ornaments from my last tour. Other people hung lights (against the Regs), tinsel, and window ornaments around the compound.
The official tree on the FOB is this pathetic thirty foot tall Charlie Brown tree that started to literally die the moment they cut it down. The powers that be threw a long strand of white lights around it in a half hearted attempt to decorate it. The ornaments blew off in the wind storm. My holiday spirit was a lot like the tree – trying on the outside but wilting just the same.
I celebrated the reason for the holiday at a candle light service with a thousand other Soldiers. We sang song I remembered from dozens of Christmas services in the Catholic and United Presbyterian churches and praised God and reflected on all that is good, and can be good, in men. The light of all of those candles brought a warm and glow to the room.
I hung my head most of the time having just been told the news that three men died earlier in the day when their truck rolled over into a canal. All three drown, in Iraq, the day before Christmas. I thought about those families who would open their doors, most likely late in the evening or early Christmas day, to learn that it would be a long time before they ever had a merry Christmas again. Good God, can anything be worse than that news?
For Christmas I spent the day with my troops. We played secret-pass-the-present-Santa; a weird game where one person opens a present but the next person can chose that present if they want. We all laughed and joked. It was nice, it really was, a brief respite from work, patrols, meetings, war, peace, and the fact that we’d rather be elsewhere. I beat my Soldiers at Risk – which they said was a good thing that reaffirmed their confidence in me. I went to the gym and ran for 30 minutes until I worked off all of the holiday food I was eating.
I should have been running our annual Christmas Tree Trot with Lisa. I spoke to my family again and tried to open presents with TJ via skype but it fell way short of expectations. The signal dropped and dropped again and again. My frustration rose and I stopped trying altogether. Calling Samantha was equally difficult with everyone trying to call home at once. We spoke for a few minutes but ultimately gave up for an opportunity to call when the lines were less crowded. I didn’t even try to call my brother. I miss being in the proximity of my family so much that anything less than that is almost avoidable.
My Christmas ended with another small bon fire and a good cigar after dinner. I stopped by Santa because he was there. Here was a guy in the dining hall dressed up for us - no kids - just a bunch of Soldiers far from hom. It was a long day doing nothing – a well deserved nothing to recharge the batteries for the next day.
In so many ways I missed the holiday altogether. I think I missed its meaning and purpose and the joy and the wonder. I couldn’t get into the spirit for so many reasons.
Our Christmas in Iraq started weeks before when we received decorations from several wonderful people back in the US. I put up my tree and decorated it with ornaments from my last tour. Other people hung lights (against the Regs), tinsel, and window ornaments around the compound.
The official tree on the FOB is this pathetic thirty foot tall Charlie Brown tree that started to literally die the moment they cut it down. The powers that be threw a long strand of white lights around it in a half hearted attempt to decorate it. The ornaments blew off in the wind storm. My holiday spirit was a lot like the tree – trying on the outside but wilting just the same.
We spent the day before Christmas with our friends sitting around the compound. We barbequed, started a fire in the fire pit, and played with a Wii generously donated to us from a friend on the FOB. With the Wii came Guitar Hero World Tour, and a bunch of grown dorky 40 somethings got their ROCK on to Cheap Trick, Aerosmith, and Kiss while the 20 somethings played Rock Band in another room.
In some ways I just looked at this holiday as a place holder on the calendar, a mark to be checked to get closer to home. From Upstate New York I am used to snow by now, and I missed the holiday shopping, and Christmas music. None of that happened here; it rained two days before Christmas turning the place into a mud puddle and the only holiday music I heard was on the 24th and 25th.
In some ways I just looked at this holiday as a place holder on the calendar, a mark to be checked to get closer to home. From Upstate New York I am used to snow by now, and I missed the holiday shopping, and Christmas music. None of that happened here; it rained two days before Christmas turning the place into a mud puddle and the only holiday music I heard was on the 24th and 25th.
I celebrated the reason for the holiday at a candle light service with a thousand other Soldiers. We sang song I remembered from dozens of Christmas services in the Catholic and United Presbyterian churches and praised God and reflected on all that is good, and can be good, in men. The light of all of those candles brought a warm and glow to the room.
I hung my head most of the time having just been told the news that three men died earlier in the day when their truck rolled over into a canal. All three drown, in Iraq, the day before Christmas. I thought about those families who would open their doors, most likely late in the evening or early Christmas day, to learn that it would be a long time before they ever had a merry Christmas again. Good God, can anything be worse than that news?
I spoke to Lisa and TJ before I went to bed. I got up super early to say hi to Lisa on my Christmas morning, it was 5:00 am in Iraq and 9:00 pm, Christmas Eve in Florida. I opened my presents with her; a “pregnant snowwoman” ornament and Too Fat Too Fish, by Artie Lange from the Howard Stern Show. I love Artie, as does Lisa, and I knew the book would be fun to read once I woke up again. Yep – I went back to bed until 9:30 am.
I think of what I’d be doing with Lisa at 9 o’clock the night before Christmas. I’d just get in from church service with her. We’d change into sweats and a t-shirt and make a nice Manhattan with good bourbon and sweet vermouth. We’d sit for a while she finished her last minute wrapping. I’d sit on the porch by the river watching boats go by to and from the Gulf. Life would be great at that moment. What the hell am I doing here?
I think of what I’d be doing with Lisa at 9 o’clock the night before Christmas. I’d just get in from church service with her. We’d change into sweats and a t-shirt and make a nice Manhattan with good bourbon and sweet vermouth. We’d sit for a while she finished her last minute wrapping. I’d sit on the porch by the river watching boats go by to and from the Gulf. Life would be great at that moment. What the hell am I doing here?
For Christmas I spent the day with my troops. We played secret-pass-the-present-Santa; a weird game where one person opens a present but the next person can chose that present if they want. We all laughed and joked. It was nice, it really was, a brief respite from work, patrols, meetings, war, peace, and the fact that we’d rather be elsewhere. I beat my Soldiers at Risk – which they said was a good thing that reaffirmed their confidence in me. I went to the gym and ran for 30 minutes until I worked off all of the holiday food I was eating.
I should have been running our annual Christmas Tree Trot with Lisa. I spoke to my family again and tried to open presents with TJ via skype but it fell way short of expectations. The signal dropped and dropped again and again. My frustration rose and I stopped trying altogether. Calling Samantha was equally difficult with everyone trying to call home at once. We spoke for a few minutes but ultimately gave up for an opportunity to call when the lines were less crowded. I didn’t even try to call my brother. I miss being in the proximity of my family so much that anything less than that is almost avoidable.
My Christmas ended with another small bon fire and a good cigar after dinner. I stopped by Santa because he was there. Here was a guy in the dining hall dressed up for us - no kids - just a bunch of Soldiers far from hom. It was a long day doing nothing – a well deserved nothing to recharge the batteries for the next day.
In so many ways I missed the holiday altogether. I think I missed its meaning and purpose and the joy and the wonder. I couldn’t get into the spirit for so many reasons.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Tourist Trapped
The other day I flew to a tiny base in the Karbala province in order to talk to the government reconstruction team that oversees the province and interacts with the local government on matters from essential services to rule of law.
I was a “strap hanger” of two “full bird” Colonels who were touring the area as part of their transition of command. Since they were headed down there I jumped into the entourage. My usual traveling partner wasn’t with me but I knew as long as I was with these to senior officers that I’d least get back to FOB Kalsu at the end of the day. What I didn’t do was fully coordinate my movements once we arrived at the small base. Since I knew the Colonels would be meeting with the reconstruction team I followed them instead of going off on my own and finding their office. They climbed into the back of a MRAP and so did I. My mistake.
I found myself locked into their schedule; the unwitting recipient of a tour of Karbala.
For the next six hours I rode around in the back of a MRAP looking out the window at the city of Karbala. Karbala is the sixth largest city in Iraq. Lisa later asked me, “As compared to what city in the US?” I replied, “The sixth largest city in the US!” It’s a predominately Shi’a city with 700,000 people two significant Shi’a mosques there.
From my window, Karbala was a thriving city without any Coalition Forces residing in the entire province except for those living with the ISF. There is vertical construction everywhere with enormous cranes lifting material over skeletons of scaffolding. Shops were open selling everything from children’s toys to furniture. The streets were crowded with people who looked at us curiously as we drove by. The word, "bustling" came to mind. The vibe was so different that in all my experiences in 2004-2005 and now, I would have never guessed I was in Iraq.
We stopped in several IP and IA offices to allow the Colonels to discuss the pertinent issues and look at their new equipment. We ate lunch at an Iraqi Army base. Plates and plates of rice and lamb with warm flat bread to stuff it into get it from the plate to your mouth. The gift of Iraqi food is a gift that keeps on giving. Two days later and I’m still not right. The only bright side to my misadventure was that we finished off our tour with a “market walk” of downtown Husanyia, a small city east of Karbala.
In the afternoon we parked the trucks at the far end of the market and strolled through. Well, that’s a lie, isn’t it? We didn’t just park and walk away. Actually, we got out, and walked on the sidewalk while the personal security element, ISF, and overhead attack helicopters kept watch of us tourists. The stores were still open in the late afternoon sun. The smells of sweet breads, rotisserie chicken, tobacco, and Iraqi men is enough to pull you (or push) you down the street. Men filled the market place in front of and behind the counter, haggling prices. Many times the shop owners were accompanied by their sons while old men sat outside and contemplated deep thoughts. Groups gathered to watch us or engage us when we stopped before our time ran out to fly back.
I was a “strap hanger” of two “full bird” Colonels who were touring the area as part of their transition of command. Since they were headed down there I jumped into the entourage. My usual traveling partner wasn’t with me but I knew as long as I was with these to senior officers that I’d least get back to FOB Kalsu at the end of the day. What I didn’t do was fully coordinate my movements once we arrived at the small base. Since I knew the Colonels would be meeting with the reconstruction team I followed them instead of going off on my own and finding their office. They climbed into the back of a MRAP and so did I. My mistake.
I found myself locked into their schedule; the unwitting recipient of a tour of Karbala.
For the next six hours I rode around in the back of a MRAP looking out the window at the city of Karbala. Karbala is the sixth largest city in Iraq. Lisa later asked me, “As compared to what city in the US?” I replied, “The sixth largest city in the US!” It’s a predominately Shi’a city with 700,000 people two significant Shi’a mosques there.
From my window, Karbala was a thriving city without any Coalition Forces residing in the entire province except for those living with the ISF. There is vertical construction everywhere with enormous cranes lifting material over skeletons of scaffolding. Shops were open selling everything from children’s toys to furniture. The streets were crowded with people who looked at us curiously as we drove by. The word, "bustling" came to mind. The vibe was so different that in all my experiences in 2004-2005 and now, I would have never guessed I was in Iraq.
We stopped in several IP and IA offices to allow the Colonels to discuss the pertinent issues and look at their new equipment. We ate lunch at an Iraqi Army base. Plates and plates of rice and lamb with warm flat bread to stuff it into get it from the plate to your mouth. The gift of Iraqi food is a gift that keeps on giving. Two days later and I’m still not right. The only bright side to my misadventure was that we finished off our tour with a “market walk” of downtown Husanyia, a small city east of Karbala.
In the afternoon we parked the trucks at the far end of the market and strolled through. Well, that’s a lie, isn’t it? We didn’t just park and walk away. Actually, we got out, and walked on the sidewalk while the personal security element, ISF, and overhead attack helicopters kept watch of us tourists. The stores were still open in the late afternoon sun. The smells of sweet breads, rotisserie chicken, tobacco, and Iraqi men is enough to pull you (or push) you down the street. Men filled the market place in front of and behind the counter, haggling prices. Many times the shop owners were accompanied by their sons while old men sat outside and contemplated deep thoughts. Groups gathered to watch us or engage us when we stopped before our time ran out to fly back.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Photo Ops Part II
More photos to illustrate life in Iraq.
The MRAP comes in many different models, each made by a different company. Learning to drive it is not as difficult as you would imagine. However, once you get on the narrow roads and contend with Iraqi drivers it takes a lot of concentration in the drivers seat.
Children are still the best hope for this country. Forty years of a dictatorship is not easily washed away after five years of democracy. It will take these children, members of a tribe that is over a thousand years old, to grow up, come into their own, and learn to work with the Arab and Western worlds.
One of the biggest tragedies in Iraq occurs in the SOE (State Owned Enterises). Factory machinery sits idle while the company still pays thousands of works to stand around all day. The factory cannot compete in the regional market. The paradox is that if the company privatized then they'd have to lay off three quarters of the work force to make a profit. Many managers chose to keep people on the books.
This is a picture near my compound looking out near the helicopter landing zone. The "birds" come in day and night, mostly at night. When they do my little home shakes from the sound waves they create. Beyond the LZ is the compound trash fire. We burn out trash down wind from the base. The EPA would probably have a collective aneurysm if this was in the US.
The MRAP comes in many different models, each made by a different company. Learning to drive it is not as difficult as you would imagine. However, once you get on the narrow roads and contend with Iraqi drivers it takes a lot of concentration in the drivers seat.
Children are still the best hope for this country. Forty years of a dictatorship is not easily washed away after five years of democracy. It will take these children, members of a tribe that is over a thousand years old, to grow up, come into their own, and learn to work with the Arab and Western worlds.
One of the biggest tragedies in Iraq occurs in the SOE (State Owned Enterises). Factory machinery sits idle while the company still pays thousands of works to stand around all day. The factory cannot compete in the regional market. The paradox is that if the company privatized then they'd have to lay off three quarters of the work force to make a profit. Many managers chose to keep people on the books.
This is a picture near my compound looking out near the helicopter landing zone. The "birds" come in day and night, mostly at night. When they do my little home shakes from the sound waves they create. Beyond the LZ is the compound trash fire. We burn out trash down wind from the base. The EPA would probably have a collective aneurysm if this was in the US.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Sitting on the SOFA
First, the Status of Forces Agreement (SOFA) is now called the Security Agreement (SA). I like SOFA better because it makes the journal title more ironic.
Second, we still do not know how the SOFA is going to affect our every day mission here in Iraq; at least not yet. We cannot talk about it to the press, which is good because all I know about it came from Fox News and since they seem to know more than we do, maybe I could ask them.
The basics are pretty straight forward. All US forces out of the cities by June of 2009 and out of the country by 2011. We will coordinate operations with Iraq Security Forces. We will turn over detainees or have to show a burden of proof to keep them in detention. These are the biggies within the entire agreement. Since the agreement was made by the US administration and the Iraqi administration I’m that its simple and easy to understand.
And it’s in the broad definitions of the words “cities” and “out of” and “operations” that the SOFA gets interesting. What defines a city in Iraq? Is it by population? Square miles? Historical boundaries? My FOB is nowhere near a city. But what about a base on the outskirts of al Hilla, or Karbala, or Baghdad? Baghdad! We’re going to leave (out of) the IZ? Leave (out of) the bases near Sadr City in the Shi’a slums of Baghdad? If it means giving the mission of security over to the Iraqis then I am all for it and wish them luck.
Thank goodness we have lawyers to sort this entire mess out! You know that the war has changed dramatically when we look to the lawyers for guidance with the day to day stuff. Our military lawyers at the highest levels are deciphering the legal implications of the SOFA. In a few weeks (because that’s all they have) they will let us know how our relationship with Iraq has changed.
I'm not worried. We will always have the right to defend ourselves. And no, I don’t think we’ll be taking orders from the ISF any time soon. In the end, the level of coordination that will come from the SOFA will only serve to get us extricated from Iraq easier rather than harder. We’d rather wave good-bye than shoot our way out.
The bottom line is that this is the mark on the calendar no one wanted to make for the past four or five years. We are leaving Iraq and barring a catastrophic incident with any one of Iraq’s neighbors, that’s not going to change. The SOFA is the beginning of the end.
However, until the SOFA turns into the SA, we’ll be sitting and waiting.
Second, we still do not know how the SOFA is going to affect our every day mission here in Iraq; at least not yet. We cannot talk about it to the press, which is good because all I know about it came from Fox News and since they seem to know more than we do, maybe I could ask them.
The basics are pretty straight forward. All US forces out of the cities by June of 2009 and out of the country by 2011. We will coordinate operations with Iraq Security Forces. We will turn over detainees or have to show a burden of proof to keep them in detention. These are the biggies within the entire agreement. Since the agreement was made by the US administration and the Iraqi administration I’m that its simple and easy to understand.
And it’s in the broad definitions of the words “cities” and “out of” and “operations” that the SOFA gets interesting. What defines a city in Iraq? Is it by population? Square miles? Historical boundaries? My FOB is nowhere near a city. But what about a base on the outskirts of al Hilla, or Karbala, or Baghdad? Baghdad! We’re going to leave (out of) the IZ? Leave (out of) the bases near Sadr City in the Shi’a slums of Baghdad? If it means giving the mission of security over to the Iraqis then I am all for it and wish them luck.
Thank goodness we have lawyers to sort this entire mess out! You know that the war has changed dramatically when we look to the lawyers for guidance with the day to day stuff. Our military lawyers at the highest levels are deciphering the legal implications of the SOFA. In a few weeks (because that’s all they have) they will let us know how our relationship with Iraq has changed.
I'm not worried. We will always have the right to defend ourselves. And no, I don’t think we’ll be taking orders from the ISF any time soon. In the end, the level of coordination that will come from the SOFA will only serve to get us extricated from Iraq easier rather than harder. We’d rather wave good-bye than shoot our way out.
The bottom line is that this is the mark on the calendar no one wanted to make for the past four or five years. We are leaving Iraq and barring a catastrophic incident with any one of Iraq’s neighbors, that’s not going to change. The SOFA is the beginning of the end.
However, until the SOFA turns into the SA, we’ll be sitting and waiting.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Change in the Weather
I saw my breath this morning for the first time since last winter in New York. When I arrived to Kuwait the temperatures were still in the 110°-120° range. Managing the heat is relatively easy. Drink lots of water, stay out of the sun as much as possible, and keep hard work to a minimum.
It stayed hot for a few weeks in Iraq until the temps dropped to a reasonable 80ish. That’s when the last of the summer dust storms hit. The dust that is kicked up from these storms knows no boundaries and can find its way into rooms, vehicles, and even showers. It reduces visibility to near nothing. There isn’t much worse than breathing dirt all day long.
Then the rains came. It has rained briefly a few times. One day it rained here for half a day and turned the entire base into a slick, dirty, sticky mud hole. I made the same complaint last time and anyone who has ever been here knows what I am talking about. The Iraqi earth is not sand, at least not in central Iraq between the Tigris and Euphrates. The earth here is more of a dried up river silt that when dry become as fine as talc. When it’s damp it becomes spongy and soft. When it gets wet it turns into soup. When you walk through it the mud sticks to the bottom of your boots and picks up clumps of stones and more mud. You can shake it off, scrape it off, and kick it off but the mud stays in between your treads on your boots until it decides it fall off.
Now the weather is turning once again and it is cold in the mornings when you wake up. People are starting to wear their fleece outer garments. Winter, such as it is, is coming to Iraq.
Iraq is changing too. When I arrived I was expecting a continuation of 2005, with gunfire, explosions, and high number of lethal and snatch-and-grab operations. I knew we were conducting large numbers of infrastructure projects but thought we'd need to play "dodge bomb" on the highways. I guess I was expecting a hot peace. What I discovered was much different.
Iraq is stable. That is the word that seems to fit best. The word that immediately follows the word “stable” is “fragile.” If you look at numbers then Iraq has benefited from the surge. The numbers of significant acts of violence are down across the board. The numbers of families returning to their homes has risen. The numbers of shops that are open are increasing. The nights are quiet. However, Iraq is more than a set of statistics.
Many factors can be attributed to this stability. The surge, GEN Petreaus, the SOI (Sons of Iraq) program, the destruction of al Qaeda cells, the money being poured in for infrastructure projects – any and all of these combined have brought a respite from the carnage of 2006 and 2007. A lot of credit must be given to the Iraqi military and police who have become a strong, (nearly) independent force. They take the lead on operations or calls for assistance and are backed up by our forces. They are a much different organization than existed in 2005.
Or, it could be that everyone is waiting for us to leave and as one battle hardened captain told me one night, “The Iraqis just decided that they don’t want to kill us right now.”
Within a few weeks the Security Agreement (formerly known as SOFA) will go into effect. This agreement will directly impact how we conduct our missions. There are no details whatsoever. Will we have to request permission to leave the base? Within a few months the nation will hold provincial level elections. As the balance of power shifts one way or another the fallout will be felt among the local towns and villages here. Will officials who lose vacate their seats? Within a few months the SOI will no longer receive American financial support, take a reduction in pay from the GOI, and may be put out of business altogether. Will the pick up their guns against us?Within a few years Iran is poised to come in and help their Shi’a Muslim brothers when we leave. What happens then?
Iraq might be coming out of the long cold winter to a slow rebirth or maybe this is the calm before the storm. Unfortunately the elements for one are the same as the other. It’s too early to tell which way the wind is blowing and the weathermen have been known to be wrong.
It stayed hot for a few weeks in Iraq until the temps dropped to a reasonable 80ish. That’s when the last of the summer dust storms hit. The dust that is kicked up from these storms knows no boundaries and can find its way into rooms, vehicles, and even showers. It reduces visibility to near nothing. There isn’t much worse than breathing dirt all day long.
Then the rains came. It has rained briefly a few times. One day it rained here for half a day and turned the entire base into a slick, dirty, sticky mud hole. I made the same complaint last time and anyone who has ever been here knows what I am talking about. The Iraqi earth is not sand, at least not in central Iraq between the Tigris and Euphrates. The earth here is more of a dried up river silt that when dry become as fine as talc. When it’s damp it becomes spongy and soft. When it gets wet it turns into soup. When you walk through it the mud sticks to the bottom of your boots and picks up clumps of stones and more mud. You can shake it off, scrape it off, and kick it off but the mud stays in between your treads on your boots until it decides it fall off.
Now the weather is turning once again and it is cold in the mornings when you wake up. People are starting to wear their fleece outer garments. Winter, such as it is, is coming to Iraq.
Iraq is changing too. When I arrived I was expecting a continuation of 2005, with gunfire, explosions, and high number of lethal and snatch-and-grab operations. I knew we were conducting large numbers of infrastructure projects but thought we'd need to play "dodge bomb" on the highways. I guess I was expecting a hot peace. What I discovered was much different.
Iraq is stable. That is the word that seems to fit best. The word that immediately follows the word “stable” is “fragile.” If you look at numbers then Iraq has benefited from the surge. The numbers of significant acts of violence are down across the board. The numbers of families returning to their homes has risen. The numbers of shops that are open are increasing. The nights are quiet. However, Iraq is more than a set of statistics.
Many factors can be attributed to this stability. The surge, GEN Petreaus, the SOI (Sons of Iraq) program, the destruction of al Qaeda cells, the money being poured in for infrastructure projects – any and all of these combined have brought a respite from the carnage of 2006 and 2007. A lot of credit must be given to the Iraqi military and police who have become a strong, (nearly) independent force. They take the lead on operations or calls for assistance and are backed up by our forces. They are a much different organization than existed in 2005.
Or, it could be that everyone is waiting for us to leave and as one battle hardened captain told me one night, “The Iraqis just decided that they don’t want to kill us right now.”
Within a few weeks the Security Agreement (formerly known as SOFA) will go into effect. This agreement will directly impact how we conduct our missions. There are no details whatsoever. Will we have to request permission to leave the base? Within a few months the nation will hold provincial level elections. As the balance of power shifts one way or another the fallout will be felt among the local towns and villages here. Will officials who lose vacate their seats? Within a few months the SOI will no longer receive American financial support, take a reduction in pay from the GOI, and may be put out of business altogether. Will the pick up their guns against us?Within a few years Iran is poised to come in and help their Shi’a Muslim brothers when we leave. What happens then?
Iraq might be coming out of the long cold winter to a slow rebirth or maybe this is the calm before the storm. Unfortunately the elements for one are the same as the other. It’s too early to tell which way the wind is blowing and the weathermen have been known to be wrong.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Thanksgiving Day 2008
Thanksgiving - in the military - when you are deployed is special holiday to reflect on the comaradere we share, the friends we have lost, how much we have accomplished, and how much our families sacrifice while we are gone. We have a huge meal and a take a day off, as much as the job will allow.
My day began early with a 0700 start to the second annual 10k Turkey Trot, where one hundred plus crazy people got up early and braved the moon surfaced road for two loops through the FOB. I was joined by three of my Soldiers and we set off around the perimeter walls with the sun casting long shadows in front of us.
By the second lap, the crowd thinned out considerably. Runners were either really fast, really slow, or smart enough to drop out on the first lap. I knew my knees wouldn't forgive me and since I was thankful for them, I slowed my pace to a respectable 7:30 minute pace. I finished in 47:16ish. I got my free t-shirt and headed for the room to shower.
I went to my office for an hour. One, just to say I was there, and two to check for any late night emails that higher headquarters sends long after we close shop for the night. I went over to the Thanksgiving service at the outdoor stage. It was very ecumenical; a little Catholic, a little Baptist, a little Contemporary Christian. I was reminded of the many blessings I have in family, friends, and fellow Soldiers and I took time to say, "thank you."
After service I got my First Sergeant to go help serve the holiday meal. Like I said, the holiday meal is taken very seriously by the military, especially the cooks who pride themselves on the work they put into this meal. And everybody on the FOB knows it. The smell of delicious food floats over the base. That's why the line to get into the dining facility was out the door...
and into the building itself. The meal is not only about the food but it is about the decorations. Every table had a setting with gold table cloths, center pieces, real glasses for sparkling juice, and every chair was wrapped in cloth. It gave the impression that you were in someones home or a very nice resturaunt.
The cooks spend a lot of time on the decorations. This cornicopia is made of baked bread and is only one of the half dozen I saw.
My day began early with a 0700 start to the second annual 10k Turkey Trot, where one hundred plus crazy people got up early and braved the moon surfaced road for two loops through the FOB. I was joined by three of my Soldiers and we set off around the perimeter walls with the sun casting long shadows in front of us. 
By the second lap, the crowd thinned out considerably. Runners were either really fast, really slow, or smart enough to drop out on the first lap. I knew my knees wouldn't forgive me and since I was thankful for them, I slowed my pace to a respectable 7:30 minute pace. I finished in 47:16ish. I got my free t-shirt and headed for the room to shower.
I went to my office for an hour. One, just to say I was there, and two to check for any late night emails that higher headquarters sends long after we close shop for the night. I went over to the Thanksgiving service at the outdoor stage. It was very ecumenical; a little Catholic, a little Baptist, a little Contemporary Christian. I was reminded of the many blessings I have in family, friends, and fellow Soldiers and I took time to say, "thank you."
After service I got my First Sergeant to go help serve the holiday meal. Like I said, the holiday meal is taken very seriously by the military, especially the cooks who pride themselves on the work they put into this meal. And everybody on the FOB knows it. The smell of delicious food floats over the base. That's why the line to get into the dining facility was out the door...
and into the building itself. The meal is not only about the food but it is about the decorations. Every table had a setting with gold table cloths, center pieces, real glasses for sparkling juice, and every chair was wrapped in cloth. It gave the impression that you were in someones home or a very nice resturaunt.
The cooks spend a lot of time on the decorations. This cornicopia is made of baked bread and is only one of the half dozen I saw.
This floral arrangement is made of vegtables. If you look carefully you will notice that the flowers are red, yellow, and green peppers. Radishes and carrots make up some of the smaller flowers.
The entire hall leaves you impressed that someone took this much time to prepare a meal.
The best part of the day for me is when I get to serve the Soldiers. I learned of this in 2004. It is a great way to give back to the men and women who consistently work hard for their leadership. It is an honor and a priveledge.
In 2004 they stuck me on turnups, or green beans, or some other thing that only a few people wanted. Not this year! This year, by pure luck, I got to serve the turkey! Two kinds! Roasted and home style! My First Sergeant got prime rib and ham steak, so together we were dishing it out and piling it on.
After the meat line, came the stuffing, potatoes, yams, shrimp, and salad lines. After our entire company came through our line and when they were done, we grabbed out plates and joined them. It is now 2131 (8:31pm) and I am still not hungry after my early afternoon meal.
Give thanks today for all that you have.
And later on in the day some good souls sat down and started to personalize Christmas ornaments. We set up the tree and lights and decorations in order to get stay the holiday spirit. With the holidays are fast approaching, and from the B/403rd family to you, Happy Thanksgiving!
The entire hall leaves you impressed that someone took this much time to prepare a meal.
The best part of the day for me is when I get to serve the Soldiers. I learned of this in 2004. It is a great way to give back to the men and women who consistently work hard for their leadership. It is an honor and a priveledge.
In 2004 they stuck me on turnups, or green beans, or some other thing that only a few people wanted. Not this year! This year, by pure luck, I got to serve the turkey! Two kinds! Roasted and home style! My First Sergeant got prime rib and ham steak, so together we were dishing it out and piling it on. 
After the meat line, came the stuffing, potatoes, yams, shrimp, and salad lines. After our entire company came through our line and when they were done, we grabbed out plates and joined them. It is now 2131 (8:31pm) and I am still not hungry after my early afternoon meal.
Give thanks today for all that you have.
And later on in the day some good souls sat down and started to personalize Christmas ornaments. We set up the tree and lights and decorations in order to get stay the holiday spirit. With the holidays are fast approaching, and from the B/403rd family to you, Happy Thanksgiving!Sunday, November 23, 2008
Photo Ops
Here are a few random pictures from the deployment so far.
Every morning we raise the flag over our compound. We fly flags special for some of the people and organizations back home that support us with morale and welfare items, cards, and care packages.
This is how I see most of Iraq. From the air, about 700 feet off the ground. Out here is farm land cut through with deep, man made irrigation canals.
The Iraqi fire deptartment. There equipment is basic. They have no "turn out" gear and have to rely on pumper trucks or antiquated fire hydrants. Fortunately, every building here is made of brick. So while the contents of the house burn, the structure itself usually stands.
Meetings. Sometimes I am fully engaged in the dialouge. Other times I get to sit back with the camera and try to find the best angle.
Lunch Arab style, or at least in this case. We all stood. We all used our hands. We all had way too much to eat. The sheik next to me kept digging his fingers into my chicken and stuffed my bread with it so that I would eat more. Thanks, yummy.
The MRAP is the best protection we have against mines and IEDs. Period. It is a monster of a tactical vehicle. Unfortunately for our work, work that is supposed to build relationships, this beast doesn't really say, "we're here to help."
Every morning we raise the flag over our compound. We fly flags special for some of the people and organizations back home that support us with morale and welfare items, cards, and care packages.
This is how I see most of Iraq. From the air, about 700 feet off the ground. Out here is farm land cut through with deep, man made irrigation canals.
The Iraqi fire deptartment. There equipment is basic. They have no "turn out" gear and have to rely on pumper trucks or antiquated fire hydrants. Fortunately, every building here is made of brick. So while the contents of the house burn, the structure itself usually stands.
Meetings. Sometimes I am fully engaged in the dialouge. Other times I get to sit back with the camera and try to find the best angle.
Lunch Arab style, or at least in this case. We all stood. We all used our hands. We all had way too much to eat. The sheik next to me kept digging his fingers into my chicken and stuffed my bread with it so that I would eat more. Thanks, yummy.
The MRAP is the best protection we have against mines and IEDs. Period. It is a monster of a tactical vehicle. Unfortunately for our work, work that is supposed to build relationships, this beast doesn't really say, "we're here to help."
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Reunions Part II
These are picture of me with my beloved interpreter Khalid. The first was taken in March 2005. The second was taken last week. I have not seen him for three years.We stayed in touch via email - although very loosely - since my coming home in 2005. He would send a Christmas email every year and I would let him know that the family was doing well and growing.
As I got closer to returning to Iraq, I knew I had to see Khalid again. Once I got here and got settled I emailed for him to come from Baghdad and he agreed.
It's not easy to move freely around the country. There are Coalition Forces, Iraqi Police, and Security Forces who all have check points here and there. Some of the less professional Iraqis might even shake drivers down for money as a "toll". It was even harder for Khalid because he has no car and had to get a ride. It was not an easy trip for him.
As you can see, Khalid is short on stature. Kahlid, however is big on ideas. He was educated in Britian as an engineer and has used those skills to his benefit over the last five years. If you ask him he could solve all of Iraqs problems. He was an asset to me as a cultural advisor and project manager and interpreter. Unfortunately, Khalid is also a little schemer and got caught "double dipping" in 2005 when he was working for two different companies and translating for two different units...at the same time. I look back now and wonder what other shenanigans he was up to when he worked for me.
I love him, but don't trust him very much either.
Khalid and I met and took up where we left off; how's the family, the wife, how's his son-in-law who cheated him out of property, how are some of the people we knew. He adores Lisa. I showed him pictures of the wedding and he loved them. Then I showed him pictures from our missions together.
Over hot cha'i we laughed about some of the adventures we got into and argued about Iraq, its future, and the new American president-elect. Khalid uses his age to give the wise-old-sage insight to the world - especially the Arab world. I call "bullshit" and we argue it out. It was great.
In the end Khalid shared his technical drawings with pleas to turn them into projects. Projects equal money. I was a little put off by it but I also warned myself to expect it. Still it felt good to know that at least one thing that I left behind was still going strong. It felt good to wrap my arms around this tiny man who in spite of five years of war, occupation, civil war, and terror was still alive and hadn't changed one bit.
I am sure we will get together again.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Running Into Danger
Running is one of my hobbies. I wouldn’t say that I love it to an obsession and subscribe to Runner’s Magazine, but I like it enough to make time for it on a regular basis. I enjoy my time pushing TJ, as I did Samantha, in the baby jogger. I also like Lisa by my side long enough for me to get stretched out and take off from her a mile after we've left home. And, yes, I enter races from time to time.
I like to run.
As I mentioned in an earlier post, running on my base is difficult because there are very few long, smooth stretches of road inside the base. The pock marked, moon crater surface is killer on ankles, knees, and thighs. So it was a delight for me to take a trip off of the base to a place where every road was paved.
I spent four days at a power plant where the military unit actually lives on the plant grounds. Unfortunately, the “road” wasn’t “paved with gold” and a whole new set of risks presented themselves to me. So here, with a little editing, is the conversation that went on in my head for my first run at the power plant.
“Ah, what a great morning to run! And on pavement! Man, these Soldiers have it good. I wonder why more of them aren’t out enjoying this?”
Two minutes into the run…
“Oops, look out, there’s a two story tall, fifteen ton, MRAP pulling out from its parking spot. He can’t see me so I better run wide around him or I’ll become a stain on the road! There’s another pulling out. And another.”
Five minutes into the run…
“Hey, what’s that smell? Okay, the port-a-pottie sucker trucks, but what’s that other smell, like petroleum? Oh, that’s right, the power plant burns oil to generate electricity. Good thing those plumes are high up in the sky and blowing the other way.”
Six minutes later…
“Oh, I get it, the road goes in a big circle and now I’m running underneath them. Breathe shallow.”
On the back stretch now…
“What’s that buzzing sound? It sounds like 85,371 angry bees. Ah, high tension wires. Man, they’re only forty feet off the ground and they don’t sound like they are insulated. My sweat can't complete the circuit. Right?"
Home stretch…
“I wonder why those pipes are hissing? What’s that over there? I wonder if that glows in the dark? I wonder if I'm gonna glow in the dark?"
“Ah, the end of the run. Look at that time, 16:38! Not bad. I can’t wait to do this again tomorrow!”
I like to run.
As I mentioned in an earlier post, running on my base is difficult because there are very few long, smooth stretches of road inside the base. The pock marked, moon crater surface is killer on ankles, knees, and thighs. So it was a delight for me to take a trip off of the base to a place where every road was paved.
I spent four days at a power plant where the military unit actually lives on the plant grounds. Unfortunately, the “road” wasn’t “paved with gold” and a whole new set of risks presented themselves to me. So here, with a little editing, is the conversation that went on in my head for my first run at the power plant.
“Ah, what a great morning to run! And on pavement! Man, these Soldiers have it good. I wonder why more of them aren’t out enjoying this?”
Two minutes into the run…
“Oops, look out, there’s a two story tall, fifteen ton, MRAP pulling out from its parking spot. He can’t see me so I better run wide around him or I’ll become a stain on the road! There’s another pulling out. And another.”
Five minutes into the run…
“Hey, what’s that smell? Okay, the port-a-pottie sucker trucks, but what’s that other smell, like petroleum? Oh, that’s right, the power plant burns oil to generate electricity. Good thing those plumes are high up in the sky and blowing the other way.”
Six minutes later…
“Oh, I get it, the road goes in a big circle and now I’m running underneath them. Breathe shallow.”
On the back stretch now…
“What’s that buzzing sound? It sounds like 85,371 angry bees. Ah, high tension wires. Man, they’re only forty feet off the ground and they don’t sound like they are insulated. My sweat can't complete the circuit. Right?"
Home stretch…
“I wonder why those pipes are hissing? What’s that over there? I wonder if that glows in the dark? I wonder if I'm gonna glow in the dark?"
“Ah, the end of the run. Look at that time, 16:38! Not bad. I can’t wait to do this again tomorrow!”
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
So This Means I Get To Come Home in January, Right?
I first heard the news at 0715 local time. I was walking into the dining facility as Senator McCain was giving a gracious concession speech to his supporters: Barack Obama had won the election.
Put your politics aside for a moment and reflect on how lucky we are to live in a country where we can overthrow the government every four years without anyone dying or military intervention. A country where we can hold elections in the midst of a economic crisis, a war on two fronts, and numerous socio-economic issues. A county where 150 years ago someone like Senator Obama was still considered property, let alone a voter or a person able to run for public office.
Soon, the President-elect's politics and administration will be hailed and/or scrutinized by politicians and pundits alike. I have to say that from "my foxhole" I don't envy the man and I hope that the "change" he promises is a shining path and not an oncoming train.
However, for this brief moment, it is a great day to be an American.
Put your politics aside for a moment and reflect on how lucky we are to live in a country where we can overthrow the government every four years without anyone dying or military intervention. A country where we can hold elections in the midst of a economic crisis, a war on two fronts, and numerous socio-economic issues. A county where 150 years ago someone like Senator Obama was still considered property, let alone a voter or a person able to run for public office.
Soon, the President-elect's politics and administration will be hailed and/or scrutinized by politicians and pundits alike. I have to say that from "my foxhole" I don't envy the man and I hope that the "change" he promises is a shining path and not an oncoming train.
However, for this brief moment, it is a great day to be an American.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Gatherings and Goings
Last week our hosts, B/415th CA, the out-going Civil Affairs unit, held a barbeque for us a “Hail and Farewell” party. These events are not uncommon for the military, but the degree to which this one was done says a lot about the unit going home and the other residents of the FOB.
Happy election day.
The grill was enormous. It was big enough to lie down in. We started the charcoal around 
4:00pm and the first food went on the grates at 5:00pm. Most of the food was donated by the dining facility; however some, like lamb, was purchased off of the local economy through an interpreter. There were sausages, steaks, ribs, chicken, and lamb kabobs. The food was nonstop for three hours. The prime rib was still frozen at the core, so in typical Army fashion we cut it with a cordless saws all power tool.
4:00pm and the first food went on the grates at 5:00pm. Most of the food was donated by the dining facility; however some, like lamb, was purchased off of the local economy through an interpreter. There were sausages, steaks, ribs, chicken, and lamb kabobs. The food was nonstop for three hours. The prime rib was still frozen at the core, so in typical Army fashion we cut it with a cordless saws all power tool. 
People came from all over; Soldiers from other units, civilian contractors, firemen, and guys from the Special Forces compound next to ours. Most came to say good-bye to the troops from B/415th.
At one point it was easy to forget where we were. It was a festive atmosphere and at one point the numbers swelled to about sixty. Music was blaring, cigars were being smoked, and everyone was laughing. A small group of us took up an invitation to go play volleyball at the Special Forces compound. They turned on their flood lights and spent the night chasing the ball through the air – and the darkness – for a spirited and sloppy game.
The reunion from the arrival of the main body of the unit the fews days before was short lived. In the days following the party three of my teams departed the FOB to go to remote stations to do their jobs. Although I had been apart from the company for a few days, this separation away from these teams will be longer. The challenge of leadership is harder in these situations and I guess that I worry about them - without sounding selfish or egotistical – now they are out from under my protective wing.
Finally, last night or early this morning, the last of the B/415th personnel boarded helicopters for the first leg of their trip home. The compound, the rooms, the offices, the missions are now ours.
The TOA (transfer of authority) is complete and responsibility for civil military operations in this area is now ours. The deployment began in August but the tour begins in earnest today.
Happy election day.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Reunions
Yesterday was a great day. My company, Bravo 403rd Civil Affairs, is reunited once again! On 14 October, I flew to Baghdad with my personnel/administrative sergeant, my operations sergeant, and my supply sergeant. We flew up early to start the transition process and to attend a conference on civil-military operations in this region.
We took a convoy from our base and drove thirty plus miles on a major highway to what is called, Victory Base, at the Baghdad International Airport complex. It was my first time outside of our FOB (Forward Operating Base) by ground. We arrived and had to drop off people, paperwork, and refuel before going to the tents where the rest of B/403rd spent the night. I was anxious. The whole time I felt like a parent who hasn’t seen their children in a long time – but that the last time they saw them they were glad to be away from them for a few days. We entered the tent complex and there was Zimmerman and Stotlar and a few others. We hollered back and forth to one another. When I entered the tent we all cheered. Some Soldiers rushed me and hugged me, others busted my chops for my leaving them in Kuwait for so long. There were smiles all around.
We were a family again.
In another reunion going on at the same time, my Soldier, PFC Garretto, was spending time with her dad, SSG Garretto, who is a helicopter mechanic with the Army National Guard. Although they had only half a day together, SSG Garretto flies to our base on a regular basis and father and daughter will get to spend time together when they can. It was the first time I had ever seen a parent and their child in Theater before, although the news covers it all of the time.
They were a family again.
Those haven’t been the only reunions. The other day I was in the dining facility when I was approached by one of my former students, Chris Remillard – now Captain Remillard – who is on the FOB as a physical therapist. Since then we’ve had lunch together and caught up on where everyone else from his class is at. This includes yet another of my former students who was living on the same base as I am but is currently and hour south of here. I’ve exchanged emails with CPT O’Brien and we’ll have dinner the next time he comes here.
And then, finally, I was walking into the “big” PX at Victory Base the other day and I ran into my friend’s wife, a Warrant Officer with the 101st Airborne Division. The last time I saw Carrie, she, her husband, Lisa, and I were all at dinner together in Cortland, NY on the eve of Kurt being deployed.
I am amazed at how small the Army is to be able to run into so many people that I know.
Now that we are on the FOB we are getting settled in and learning our way around. Now starts the process of learning the specifics of the jobs we will be doing. Now the real work begins.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Babylon, Waiting, and My First Run
I flew to Al Hilla, Iraq, on the west bank of the Euphrates River yesterday to attend a conference on Provincial Reconstruction. It was my first time crossing the river that has given this region so much.The flight down was at night in the body of a blacked out Blackhawk helicopter. We flew low enough that I knew we were no more than several hundred feet off of the ground. I stayed in an old Ba'ath Party hotel and met a group of State Department people who were spending a year in the country trying to get the government - at the provincial level - going again.
Across the river from the meeting place was the ancient ruins of Babylon. Once the greatest of cities in the world; the place where Alexander the Great died in 235 BC; a place still revered today. In the low, late day sun, I was fortunate to fly over the ruins. I'm sure they weren't all 2,400 years old. Babylon was destroyed and rebuilt more than once. However, to see them and imagine the size and scope of what it might have been like was a thrill.
I have been here since 15 October and my Soldiers are finally coming up from Kuwait tonight. I arrived early to attend a Civil Military Operations conference and start the hand over of responsibilities from the out-going unit. My troops have been in Kuwait training and waiting to come up.
I miss "my" guys. Without them I am not a commander. I'm sure that when we get together there will be high-fives and hugs all around. The work ahead of them will require their very best.
The other day I went for a run around the FOB. It was difficult at best. The mud from the spring rains have left the internal roads pocked and hard to even walk on. This forces runners to the perimeter road, a four mile trek through moon dust, past the sewage dump, and out past where they burn trash. The moon dust is a talc like dirt/dust/river silt combination that and be up to an inch deep. Running in it kicks up clouds of dust and makes it look like you are running on the moon. The sewage is where the black water from all of the toilets goes and is basially an organic reclamation point - and I won't run by it again. By the third mile you are out past where anyone lives and they burn some/all of the trash. The smoke blows away from the camp - and I won't run by it again, either.
There are shorter routes and I will learn them rather than go on a treadmill. Running is important, especially given all of the food here. It lets me blow off steam, enjoy my ice cream without too much guilt, and it gets me away for a while.
All is well.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
I'm Flying, I'm Flying
Here is an image that should terror into the hearts of those who know me.
Here I am, cruising at 36,000 feet over Greenland, sitting in the pilots seat.
One handed! No kidding!
This photo was taken on 09 OCT 08 en route to Kuwait via Germany. The autopilot was on and no one was ever really in danger. Really.
Friday, October 17, 2008
On A Wing and A Prayer
I have been in Iraq for 48 hours. I left Kuwait Tuesday afternoon and flew to Baghdad in a C-130 along with two dozen other Civil Affairs people and some miscellaneous contractors. The flight was typical for entering Baghdad, we went from 30,000 feet to 10,000 feet in a matter of seconds and then banked into another combat dive onto the runway. At one point I think my feet left the floor.
Prior to leaving Kuwait they gave FORCEPRO (Force Protection)ammunition. This ammunition is meant for one purpose, and I have been wearing it every waking moment since I got here. I guess that makes it real - I am back in a hostile fire zone.
However, arriving in Iraq was anti-climatic. This airport is in the middle of one of the largest and safest bases in the country. I kept telling myself to expect to have everything different. However, I found out that it was mostly the same. There are more buildings and more twenty-foot concrete barriers, but the location of the "terminal" is still the same. The barracks where I spent the night is still the same. Even the location of the Subway shop is the same.
The next day (yesterday) I flew by helicopter to my base. As I was running to the helicopter - blades turning - I realized that I forgot my glasses. Great. I had to make hand motions to the crew and then sprinted back across the flight line to the terminal. I am relying on my glasses more than I thought.
My flight to my base brought the last three years full circle for me. As we flew south I was familar with the area we were over because I had worked nearby in 2004-2005. And then I recognized a place I knew. And then I saw one of the projects I had built in 2005: a water tower in a small, rural village. And then we flew over the other one. Wow. They were still standing. No one had come in after they were completed and destroyed them. I had to assume they were working and serving the needs of the community.
We flew over vast agricultural lands full of different crops. There were workers and tractors, similar to the ones I distributed in 2005, working in the fields. From the air I could see life on the ground.
I landed at the FOB and met the men and women we will be replacing. The FOB is dusty, and as I write this we are in the middle of thick dust storm. Dust covers everything, everywhere. I'll write more about the FOB another time, when I have had time to wander around.
I fought to get here with a four person detail to attend an important conference as well as start the process of transferring equipment, paperwork, and information. Most of my Soldiers are still in Kuwait. Before leaving I gathered them all into a small circle. I told them that we were going to go to work soon and that some of us would go to different locations. In fact it may have been the last time that we'd all be together as a unit. And then I asked them to pray.
Together we said a prayer for strength for each of us when we are weak. To know right from wrong and to chose the right path. To look out for one another. We asked for God to look after our families-- especially the ones with small children. We prayed for peace and patience and safety for the next nine months.
And then we said, "Amen."
All is well here.
Prior to leaving Kuwait they gave FORCEPRO (Force Protection)ammunition. This ammunition is meant for one purpose, and I have been wearing it every waking moment since I got here. I guess that makes it real - I am back in a hostile fire zone.
However, arriving in Iraq was anti-climatic. This airport is in the middle of one of the largest and safest bases in the country. I kept telling myself to expect to have everything different. However, I found out that it was mostly the same. There are more buildings and more twenty-foot concrete barriers, but the location of the "terminal" is still the same. The barracks where I spent the night is still the same. Even the location of the Subway shop is the same.
The next day (yesterday) I flew by helicopter to my base. As I was running to the helicopter - blades turning - I realized that I forgot my glasses. Great. I had to make hand motions to the crew and then sprinted back across the flight line to the terminal. I am relying on my glasses more than I thought.
My flight to my base brought the last three years full circle for me. As we flew south I was familar with the area we were over because I had worked nearby in 2004-2005. And then I recognized a place I knew. And then I saw one of the projects I had built in 2005: a water tower in a small, rural village. And then we flew over the other one. Wow. They were still standing. No one had come in after they were completed and destroyed them. I had to assume they were working and serving the needs of the community.
We flew over vast agricultural lands full of different crops. There were workers and tractors, similar to the ones I distributed in 2005, working in the fields. From the air I could see life on the ground.
I landed at the FOB and met the men and women we will be replacing. The FOB is dusty, and as I write this we are in the middle of thick dust storm. Dust covers everything, everywhere. I'll write more about the FOB another time, when I have had time to wander around.
I fought to get here with a four person detail to attend an important conference as well as start the process of transferring equipment, paperwork, and information. Most of my Soldiers are still in Kuwait. Before leaving I gathered them all into a small circle. I told them that we were going to go to work soon and that some of us would go to different locations. In fact it may have been the last time that we'd all be together as a unit. And then I asked them to pray.
Together we said a prayer for strength for each of us when we are weak. To know right from wrong and to chose the right path. To look out for one another. We asked for God to look after our families-- especially the ones with small children. We prayed for peace and patience and safety for the next nine months.
And then we said, "Amen."
All is well here.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Why I Love The Army. Reason #214
Soldiers are the world's best complainers. They can bitch about anything.
This Kuwait. This is the middle of the desert. This is where Bedouins and their camels roam freely (I've seen them). It is over 100 degrees here in the middle of the day and the wind blows so hard that the port-a-potties need to be anchored to the ground. To walk anywhere here - and you have to walk everywhere here - requires you to drink a bottle of water before and after your trip. In other words, it's hot.
What do my Soldiers comlain about? What is it that causes them to vetch at breakfast?
It turns out that the air conditioning in our 60 person tent is too COLD!
That kind of complaining takes practice.
I won't be in Kuwait for very long. However, I was here to celebrate the Navy's 233rd birthday by running a 5k fun run in one of the heaviest and wettest fogs that I have ever encountered. The fog was so thick that I couldn't see more than four runners in front me. Out of the 150-200 people who ran I have no idea how I finished other than a respectable time of 20:24. (Neal, I sprinted the last 1/4 mile for you as a wedding present.)
I will be posting pictures as soon as I get to Iraq and get settled.
This Kuwait. This is the middle of the desert. This is where Bedouins and their camels roam freely (I've seen them). It is over 100 degrees here in the middle of the day and the wind blows so hard that the port-a-potties need to be anchored to the ground. To walk anywhere here - and you have to walk everywhere here - requires you to drink a bottle of water before and after your trip. In other words, it's hot.
What do my Soldiers comlain about? What is it that causes them to vetch at breakfast?
It turns out that the air conditioning in our 60 person tent is too COLD!
That kind of complaining takes practice.
I won't be in Kuwait for very long. However, I was here to celebrate the Navy's 233rd birthday by running a 5k fun run in one of the heaviest and wettest fogs that I have ever encountered. The fog was so thick that I couldn't see more than four runners in front me. Out of the 150-200 people who ran I have no idea how I finished other than a respectable time of 20:24. (Neal, I sprinted the last 1/4 mile for you as a wedding present.)
I will be posting pictures as soon as I get to Iraq and get settled.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Welcome to Kuwait!
We are safely in Kuwait with all of our gear ready to start the last phase of our preparations for Iraq.
We left New Jersey in the early morning of October 9th. Our take off was delayed for several hours. Fortunately for me, because of the delay, I was able to call home shortly after midnight and wish Lisa a happy anniversary.
We flew on a contracted United 747 with a great, and very attractive, crew who met us at JFK for our refueling. Although many of us slept for the first few hours of the flight eventually we all woke up and moved freely about the plane. The flight attendants let us get our own coffee and tour the cockpit, and we in turn let them get pictures holding our weapons. On a funny note, yes, we were allowed to bring our rifles on board the plane, but not our knives.
We landed in Germany for ninety minutes, changed out crews, and flew on to Kuwait. I slept as much as I could on this leg knowing that I'd land in the morning hours. We came in over the desert as the sun was rising and I was reminded how desolate parts of the world are.
After we landed we were hustled on to busses for a ride into the middle of the Kuwaiti desert. In fact, the exit sign on the major highway read, "DESERT" with an arrow. Two hours later I was reminded in very clear terms what "desolate" actually is.
We are in the middle of no-where on a huge staging base. Here we will get used to the heat and the time change, refire our weapons, get some more training, and then move on to Iraq. We could be here a week. We could be here longer.
Despite being in the middle of no-where, this base is firmly established. Once inside the perimeter our bus passed a Taco Bell, Burger King, and Subway. This morning I stopped over to a Starbucks and ordered a coffee. The gym is enormous. The new dining facility has an ornate water fountain in it. Austere this is not.
The mood in the unit is very positive and everyone is doing great. Personally, I feel like I am in a time warp, instantly sucked back to 2004-2005. The sights, smells, and sounds of this place made it feel like I had never been away - very strange.
Finally, there are representatives from the unit we are replacing here. We are able to pick their minds and get ready for the mission ahead of us. We all have dozens of questions apeice and they are doing their best to answer them all.
That's all for now. I will keep in touch.
We left New Jersey in the early morning of October 9th. Our take off was delayed for several hours. Fortunately for me, because of the delay, I was able to call home shortly after midnight and wish Lisa a happy anniversary.
We flew on a contracted United 747 with a great, and very attractive, crew who met us at JFK for our refueling. Although many of us slept for the first few hours of the flight eventually we all woke up and moved freely about the plane. The flight attendants let us get our own coffee and tour the cockpit, and we in turn let them get pictures holding our weapons. On a funny note, yes, we were allowed to bring our rifles on board the plane, but not our knives.
We landed in Germany for ninety minutes, changed out crews, and flew on to Kuwait. I slept as much as I could on this leg knowing that I'd land in the morning hours. We came in over the desert as the sun was rising and I was reminded how desolate parts of the world are.
After we landed we were hustled on to busses for a ride into the middle of the Kuwaiti desert. In fact, the exit sign on the major highway read, "DESERT" with an arrow. Two hours later I was reminded in very clear terms what "desolate" actually is.
We are in the middle of no-where on a huge staging base. Here we will get used to the heat and the time change, refire our weapons, get some more training, and then move on to Iraq. We could be here a week. We could be here longer.
Despite being in the middle of no-where, this base is firmly established. Once inside the perimeter our bus passed a Taco Bell, Burger King, and Subway. This morning I stopped over to a Starbucks and ordered a coffee. The gym is enormous. The new dining facility has an ornate water fountain in it. Austere this is not.
The mood in the unit is very positive and everyone is doing great. Personally, I feel like I am in a time warp, instantly sucked back to 2004-2005. The sights, smells, and sounds of this place made it feel like I had never been away - very strange.
Finally, there are representatives from the unit we are replacing here. We are able to pick their minds and get ready for the mission ahead of us. We all have dozens of questions apeice and they are doing their best to answer them all.
That's all for now. I will keep in touch.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Anticipation
We are waiting for transport to the flight line. The bags are packed and loaded. The barracks are cleaned and empty. The farewell ceremony is over. All of the weapons have been issued.
There is laughter, some of it nervous, as Soldiers joke with one another.
There are lot of cell phones out with text messages and call being sent.
Some are reading. Some have found a whiffle ball and bat and have started pick up game. Others are sitting under a tree picking at the grass generating rumor mill content.
This is the longest part of the entire deployment; getting there, or waiting to get there. The anxiety is real. No matter how many past deployments someone has been on, those nervous butterflies manifest themselves in many ways.
Writing, for me, is the way to relieve some of that waiting anxiety.
I hope all is well with you, wherever you are.
There is laughter, some of it nervous, as Soldiers joke with one another.
There are lot of cell phones out with text messages and call being sent.
Some are reading. Some have found a whiffle ball and bat and have started pick up game. Others are sitting under a tree picking at the grass generating rumor mill content.
This is the longest part of the entire deployment; getting there, or waiting to get there. The anxiety is real. No matter how many past deployments someone has been on, those nervous butterflies manifest themselves in many ways.
Writing, for me, is the way to relieve some of that waiting anxiety.
I hope all is well with you, wherever you are.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
24 Hours
24 hours to go.
What goes through a Soldiers mind at this time? It ranges from the critical to the absurd.
I think about my family and worry about the challenges that they will face without me. I also think about the joys that they will share with me in pictures and video. I feel the ache of starting a long time of being physically apart from them.
I think about the mission. Ft Dix is no longer a concern. Kuwait, additional training, movement to Iraq, and learning the particulars of the area is a concern. What can I do to make all of those things smooth for my Soldiers?
I think about the packing that I've done and the identification of luggage. Everything I own or that has been issued to me is going into green duffle bags that look e-x-a-c-t-l-y like everyone else's green duffle bag. I think about what to put in my carry on in the event that everything is lost or misplaced (it wouldn't be the first time).
I think about the responsibility that I have for these Soldiers. I think about the obligation that I have to their families to train them, send them into harm's way, and bring them all home safely. I think about what else I need to do for those who will sacrifice so much - because I owe them everything.
I think about the laundry that I need to get done so that I can fly in clean clothes.
I think about my bed in Cortland and how much I will miss it.
I think about the good times to come - Thanksgiving, and the Holidays, where I serve (literally) my Soliders and share a meal with them.
I think about how I can be a good Civil Affairs Soldier. I think about how to do my job and enable my commanders to help the people of Iraq. The sooner they can establish/run/manage their essential services, infrastructure, and government systems the sooner we can all come home.
And then the process starts over. I think about my wife, my daughter, my son and how much they mean to me and how much I will miss them.
The clock is counting down from 24 hours until a new clock starts counting down 300+/- days.
What goes through a Soldiers mind at this time? It ranges from the critical to the absurd.
I think about my family and worry about the challenges that they will face without me. I also think about the joys that they will share with me in pictures and video. I feel the ache of starting a long time of being physically apart from them.
I think about the mission. Ft Dix is no longer a concern. Kuwait, additional training, movement to Iraq, and learning the particulars of the area is a concern. What can I do to make all of those things smooth for my Soldiers?
I think about the packing that I've done and the identification of luggage. Everything I own or that has been issued to me is going into green duffle bags that look e-x-a-c-t-l-y like everyone else's green duffle bag. I think about what to put in my carry on in the event that everything is lost or misplaced (it wouldn't be the first time).
I think about the responsibility that I have for these Soldiers. I think about the obligation that I have to their families to train them, send them into harm's way, and bring them all home safely. I think about what else I need to do for those who will sacrifice so much - because I owe them everything.
I think about the laundry that I need to get done so that I can fly in clean clothes.
I think about my bed in Cortland and how much I will miss it.
I think about the good times to come - Thanksgiving, and the Holidays, where I serve (literally) my Soliders and share a meal with them.
I think about how I can be a good Civil Affairs Soldier. I think about how to do my job and enable my commanders to help the people of Iraq. The sooner they can establish/run/manage their essential services, infrastructure, and government systems the sooner we can all come home.
And then the process starts over. I think about my wife, my daughter, my son and how much they mean to me and how much I will miss them.
The clock is counting down from 24 hours until a new clock starts counting down 300+/- days.
Monday, October 6, 2008
48 Hours
48 hours ago I was home with my family in the middle of one of the nicest weekends anyone could ask for. 48 hours from now I will be on an airplane somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean on my way to Kuwait.
Last week I spent Wednesday night to Sunday evening on pass at my home, with my family. It was four absolutely wonderful days.
Lisa brought TJ downstairs to find out who was behind the mysterious voice coming from the living room. TJ smiled and walked by me as if I had been downstairs the whole day long. It took him a day but he soon realized that the guy in the picture he kisses every night was the same guy picking him up. He got so big in such a short time that I wonder what the next ten months will bring. I will have to live vicariously through Lisa and the photos and video she sends me.
Lisa and I took the time we needed to connect. We went to dinner to our favorite places. We went for a run. We went shopping for TJ’s Halloween costume. We ran in the Pumpkin Fest 5k. We went to church. We hung out. She reminded me how lucky I am every day to have her as a friend, wife, and mother of my child. We reminded each other that we are strong enough to face the challenges that will come over the next year.
On Friday, we picked up Samantha from school and she took over the primary role of TJ’s favorite person in the family. She is involved in so many things at school that I have a hard time keeping up with all of her activities. Sam did great all weekend long until Sunday. Whether she tuned me out, mentally blocked the message, or didn’t understand – Samantha didn’t come to the full realization that I was leaving home until two hours before my ride arrived. In the last ten minutes the full weight of my departure hit her like a ton of bricks. Unfortunately, my daughter is also a bit of a drama queen. Fortunately, I missed her running down the street after the car and dousing herself in my cologne after I left.
My brother and his family came to town on Saturday. We cooked out, went to a football game (without the children, allowing my niece to babysit!), and had a great dinner together before coming back to the house for an outdoor fire.
The weather was nice and autumn was already present in Upstate New York. Everything about these last few precious days helped recharge my batteries for the next few days and will hopefully carry me for the next few months.
This afternoon we received the itinerary for our flight. We will be on a huge contracted commercial airplane flying from New Jersey to New York to Europe to Kuwait. It only took me a few seconds to realize that I would be spending my wedding anniversary on the plane; ugh. I also found out that all of the packing that I have already done needed to be un-done and packed over. There is not much left to do here except attend a farewell ceremony.
I am glad that we are leaving soon. Another group will be here until Saturday, and that is just too long to sit around and do nothing; now that we’ve said good-bye to our families let’s get going. I feel the anxiety building – not just in me but in everyone – as the last minute things that can get accomplished here press against us and the uncertainty of the next few weeks is only hours away.
There is more work to do before we get into Iraq. We’ll spend some time in Kuwait to train, acclimatize, and outfit into the latest protective gear available. We are only getting started.
If you are reading this and I did not call, stop in, or otherwise let you know I was in the area this weekend – I apologize. I you are reading this and I did get a chance to see you and say “good-bye” – thank you for adding to my weekend.
Last week I spent Wednesday night to Sunday evening on pass at my home, with my family. It was four absolutely wonderful days.
Lisa brought TJ downstairs to find out who was behind the mysterious voice coming from the living room. TJ smiled and walked by me as if I had been downstairs the whole day long. It took him a day but he soon realized that the guy in the picture he kisses every night was the same guy picking him up. He got so big in such a short time that I wonder what the next ten months will bring. I will have to live vicariously through Lisa and the photos and video she sends me.
Lisa and I took the time we needed to connect. We went to dinner to our favorite places. We went for a run. We went shopping for TJ’s Halloween costume. We ran in the Pumpkin Fest 5k. We went to church. We hung out. She reminded me how lucky I am every day to have her as a friend, wife, and mother of my child. We reminded each other that we are strong enough to face the challenges that will come over the next year.
On Friday, we picked up Samantha from school and she took over the primary role of TJ’s favorite person in the family. She is involved in so many things at school that I have a hard time keeping up with all of her activities. Sam did great all weekend long until Sunday. Whether she tuned me out, mentally blocked the message, or didn’t understand – Samantha didn’t come to the full realization that I was leaving home until two hours before my ride arrived. In the last ten minutes the full weight of my departure hit her like a ton of bricks. Unfortunately, my daughter is also a bit of a drama queen. Fortunately, I missed her running down the street after the car and dousing herself in my cologne after I left.
My brother and his family came to town on Saturday. We cooked out, went to a football game (without the children, allowing my niece to babysit!), and had a great dinner together before coming back to the house for an outdoor fire.
The weather was nice and autumn was already present in Upstate New York. Everything about these last few precious days helped recharge my batteries for the next few days and will hopefully carry me for the next few months.
This afternoon we received the itinerary for our flight. We will be on a huge contracted commercial airplane flying from New Jersey to New York to Europe to Kuwait. It only took me a few seconds to realize that I would be spending my wedding anniversary on the plane; ugh. I also found out that all of the packing that I have already done needed to be un-done and packed over. There is not much left to do here except attend a farewell ceremony.
I am glad that we are leaving soon. Another group will be here until Saturday, and that is just too long to sit around and do nothing; now that we’ve said good-bye to our families let’s get going. I feel the anxiety building – not just in me but in everyone – as the last minute things that can get accomplished here press against us and the uncertainty of the next few weeks is only hours away.
There is more work to do before we get into Iraq. We’ll spend some time in Kuwait to train, acclimatize, and outfit into the latest protective gear available. We are only getting started.
If you are reading this and I did not call, stop in, or otherwise let you know I was in the area this weekend – I apologize. I you are reading this and I did get a chance to see you and say “good-bye” – thank you for adding to my weekend.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Changes
There is a big change on this deployment.
During my medical in processing I spent a little extra at the Optometrist. It turns out that I need glasses. I sort of felt that this was coming. I found my eyesight a little blurry - especially after a long day when I am tired. My glasses arrived the other night when I was out on the field problem (Mission Readiness Exercise). The difference was immediate and shocking. Off and on again - wow. So now I am learning to live with glasses. I don't need them all of the time and they only work for distances but here I am...
There are some other big changes that I am accutely aware of since 2005.
First, since 2005, I lost both of my parents. I lost my dad in June of 2006 to a three year long battle with cancer (In fact when I first saw the picture above I saw my dad in my face). Then, ten months later, I lost my mom as the result of complications from surgery. Dad always around his house to answer the phone and gave a familiar voice to listen to whenever I needed it. Mom, well, mom took my deployement a lot harder and worried excessively about my safety. If she knew that I was going back she'd be frantic but proud of me. I miss them both and will miss reaching back to them from Iraq, just to talk.
During my medical in processing I spent a little extra at the Optometrist. It turns out that I need glasses. I sort of felt that this was coming. I found my eyesight a little blurry - especially after a long day when I am tired. My glasses arrived the other night when I was out on the field problem (Mission Readiness Exercise). The difference was immediate and shocking. Off and on again - wow. So now I am learning to live with glasses. I don't need them all of the time and they only work for distances but here I am...
There are some other big changes that I am accutely aware of since 2005.
First, since 2005, I lost both of my parents. I lost my dad in June of 2006 to a three year long battle with cancer (In fact when I first saw the picture above I saw my dad in my face). Then, ten months later, I lost my mom as the result of complications from surgery. Dad always around his house to answer the phone and gave a familiar voice to listen to whenever I needed it. Mom, well, mom took my deployement a lot harder and worried excessively about my safety. If she knew that I was going back she'd be frantic but proud of me. I miss them both and will miss reaching back to them from Iraq, just to talk.
In the last three years I married Lisa. Although we were engaged at the time I left the last time we were not under the same roof. Under an October sunset in 2005, at the end of a pier in Key West we made our vows to one another. Now, Lisa is my wife. She is my best friend and a rock I can rely on. I have never known a better person and I am so lucky to be married to her.
Finally - I am a dad again! My son, TJ, was born in June 2007, and is the light of my life. He is an absolutely gorgeous toddler who lights up with a smile whenever I walk into the room. Being away from him and all of the "firsts" he is going to go through is probably the hardest part of this deployment.
There will be more changes in the year to come. Iraq will be different. It will be more or less secure and there will be more or less progress. I will be different. I will be a company commander with new challenges to my leadership. Homelife will be different. Lisa will be the head of the house and the sole parent present for raising TJ.
Through it all I will continue to post and keep you up to date.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Combat Lifesaver and Convoy Live Fire Training
Our training for deployment has included Combat Lifesaver and a live fire Convoy Exercise - and both are scary.
Combat Lifesaver was taught by our own resident LPN while we were out on our training exercise, living in tents, in a Iraq-like operating base. This training gives every Soldier the absolute necessary skills to provide immediate care under fire. If the wounded Soldier's buddies can stop traumatic bleeding and start an intravenous line then a Soldier stands a 97% to 98% chance of survival if they reach the combat hospital.
The classroom instruction is very hands on. It teaches the latest in bandages, hemostat powder (a chemical agent that when introduced to a profuse bleeding wound almost immediately clots it - to include severed arteries), relieving collapsed lungs, and how to start an IV. And as part of the practical exercise and final exam Soldier have to do a IV "stick" on a live person.
Breathe deep. Prep the arm. Find the vein. Clean, sanitize, and prepare the area. Breathe deep again. Take out the needle and catheter. Breathe deep again. Introduce the needle and slide in the catheter. Secure, seal, and start a saline solution. Exhale.
Combat Lifesaver was taught by our own resident LPN while we were out on our training exercise, living in tents, in a Iraq-like operating base. This training gives every Soldier the absolute necessary skills to provide immediate care under fire. If the wounded Soldier's buddies can stop traumatic bleeding and start an intravenous line then a Soldier stands a 97% to 98% chance of survival if they reach the combat hospital.
The classroom instruction is very hands on. It teaches the latest in bandages, hemostat powder (a chemical agent that when introduced to a profuse bleeding wound almost immediately clots it - to include severed arteries), relieving collapsed lungs, and how to start an IV. And as part of the practical exercise and final exam Soldier have to do a IV "stick" on a live person.
Breathe deep. Prep the arm. Find the vein. Clean, sanitize, and prepare the area. Breathe deep again. Take out the needle and catheter. Breathe deep again. Introduce the needle and slide in the catheter. Secure, seal, and start a saline solution. Exhale.
Convoy live fire is another intimidating training event but for a whole different set of reasons than Combat Lifesaver. Six vehicles travel down a winding road while the machine gunner scans for targets to engage with live ammunition.
This training takes several days of preparation to execute. First, all of the gunners need to qualify on the firing range with their assigned weapon. Second, all of the drivers need to go through driver's training and learn the particulars of operating a two ton truck in adverse conditions. Next, the entire convoy practices the range using blanks so they know when and where to aim - and when and where not to aim.
Finally, on the last day, there is an extensive safety briefing followed immediately by the convoy briefing. Each truck has a safety officer who rides in the vehicle. They watch the machine gunners throughout the entire event.
As we rolled out and made the first turn the targets popped up and we immediately engaged by six separate gunners, each throwing rounds down range at rate of 200-300 per minute. From my vantage point, everyone followed their instructions and the training was over far too soon.
All is well here. We are getting a little stir crazy from living on top of one another and are looking forward to our pass in twelve days.
All is well here. We are getting a little stir crazy from living on top of one another and are looking forward to our pass in twelve days.
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