And American forces are still in Iraq. Surprised? The headlines, buried under the latest updates about the loss of the King of Pop, say that we have pulled out of Iraq. Well, not really. If that were the case I’d be sitting in my back yard drinking a cold beer instead of writing from eight thousand miles away.
As is often with the press, Western, Arabic, independent, or those owned by Rupert Murdock, the facts are often ignored in the message. It is true that on 30 June 2009, the coalition forces of the United States and, um, Texas, are leaving the cities. However, there are only twenty five major cities of Iraq across eighteen provinces (similar to states) that qualify for this distinction. For people like me, sitting on an old Iraqi radar station next to a corn field, there is no change to my “war” or my surroundings.
However, the celebrations are unfolding across the country. The Iraqis are parading in places like Karbala and Najaf where there haven’t been forces in over a year. In other words they are celebrating something they already enjoy. Or do they?
The other overlooked fact is that the resolution for us to move out of the cities is not binding. Not yet. The referendum that was supposed to go before the people this summer was postponed. In other words, we are honoring the intent of the Security Agreement even though it is not official yet.
This is good news for two reasons. First, it shows our intent and willingness to let the Iraqis control their own destiny. Second, it allows us to go in and support the Iraqis if they prove they can't.
It’s called “expectation management” and it means to prepare yourself and others for what the reality of the situation is going to be. For example; going to Disney World during Christmas week requires some expectation management – trust me on this one, I know from experience. We expect fairy tales come true, and Mickey Mouse, and FUN. The reality is that ten thousand other people are in line for the same thing. In Iraq some of the press is portraying this event as if we are never, ever going to be seen in a city again. Unfortunately for them, if you read the actual agreement, that’s not altogether true.
That means come the first few days of July everyone will be conducing “expectation mitigation” when the reality meets the expectation. The government of Iraq is already in front of the cameras explaining what will and won’t happen. Of course there are opportunists who will use this ambiguous situation to their own gain by blaming their own government for being weak when the first MRAP rolls through Mosul, or Basra.
In a few days we’ll celebrate our own independence. Independence earned many years ago with a clear victory in a place called Yorktown. Our enemy, in defeat, left our shores (only to become our greatest ally generations later). If only all of that were that easy here.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Love Stories from the Front
First, let me say that I love my wife and I consider myself a very lucky man. Not a day goes by that I don’t count my blessings. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s face it; love can be strange. Of course, love is even stranger in Iraq. Here are two stories about finding love in Iraq.
Several weeks ago I was approached by someone in the chain of command I work for with a simple question that derailed me for the next few days. He asked, “Did you know your officer, Captain JP, is trying to get married to a local national woman; today; on the FOB?”
The look on my face gave it away that I had no idea what he was talking about. That look quickly changed to one that said I was about to go find out.
Captain JP had been seen for the last month or so talking to, and having dinner with a local national woman who works on the FOB as a translator. This wasn’t news to me and I didn’t have a problem with it. I was aware of it and made sure that I told him what was considered acceptable and unacceptable behavior in having a relationship with an Iraqi. My concern was from an operational security point of view. Because neither person was married a relationship, per se, wasn’t off limits but there were points with in General Order #1 that forbid physical relationships. Captain JP acknowledged all of this.
To find out that my officer had decided to get married – literally out of the blue – caught me by total surprise. To learn of it from outside the chain of command sent me fuming to go find him. But first, the details.
It turned out that at breakfast, JP asked one of his peers to attend the ceremony to be held later that afternoon. His friend strongly suggested that there may be some l-e-g-a-l issues surrounding a US Soldier marrying a local Muslim woman and that he had better check with the JAG. Once he went to the JAG office, my officer learned of the extreme legal hurdles in his way and demurred from his quest.
Then I got a hold of Captain JP and counseled him. He had the unmitigated gall to say out loud that he couldn’t understand what the whole fuss was about and why the Army might have a say in his “private affairs.” I recommended that the best course of action for him was to return after the deployment, apply for a visa for her, and bring her back to the United States. When I laid it all out for him I think it was a little clearer and the matter, for the time being, was dropped.
And while the idea of getting married may have ended for my officer the situation was far from over for me because I work with a group of world class ball busters and this was a perfect diversion from their work and the issues within their own ranks. They pounced.
I had two choices, take a beating at the expense of the others, or go along with it at the expense of Captain JP. I found a middle ground. I expressed my embarrassment as a commander and made certain that I would contact my chain of command, advise them, and officially counsel my Soldier. I also took part in creating an elaborate story that was eventually told to the big boss.
The only fact the story that followed was that Captain JP had inquired on how to get married that same day. The part about the woman being the niece of one of the most influential sheiks in the region; we made that part up. The part about Captain JP promising a huge multi-million dollar project to the sheik as a dowry; we made that up too. The part about want to have extra ammo for “celebratory fire”; we made up. The part about Captain JP getting married because he HAD to; we made up. By the time we got done spinning the story no one knew what the truth was which helped to diffuse the situation entirely.
The original title of this entry was going to be, “The Bride Wore Body Armor," becuase there was only one story. Then the love bug bit someone else.
I thought the story of Captain JP was a love story gone wrong until I learned another story that left even more of a mark. A young Soldier (not mine) shot himself clean through the calf while trying to impress a female Soldier. Why did he have a loaded weapon? He was guarding local nationals working on the FOB! Imagine that; trying to impress a woman in front of the Iraqis and you shoot yourself through the leg. Imagine those Iraqi workers going home at the end of the day, “honey, those Americans are crazy! Today one of them tried to show a woman how tough he was by shooting himself through the leg!” Years from now, what kind of story the Soldier will tell his kids about that scar he got in the “Great War on Terror”?
To quote the great Bugs Bunny, “Love; ain’t it grand?”
Several weeks ago I was approached by someone in the chain of command I work for with a simple question that derailed me for the next few days. He asked, “Did you know your officer, Captain JP, is trying to get married to a local national woman; today; on the FOB?”
The look on my face gave it away that I had no idea what he was talking about. That look quickly changed to one that said I was about to go find out.
Captain JP had been seen for the last month or so talking to, and having dinner with a local national woman who works on the FOB as a translator. This wasn’t news to me and I didn’t have a problem with it. I was aware of it and made sure that I told him what was considered acceptable and unacceptable behavior in having a relationship with an Iraqi. My concern was from an operational security point of view. Because neither person was married a relationship, per se, wasn’t off limits but there were points with in General Order #1 that forbid physical relationships. Captain JP acknowledged all of this.
To find out that my officer had decided to get married – literally out of the blue – caught me by total surprise. To learn of it from outside the chain of command sent me fuming to go find him. But first, the details.
It turned out that at breakfast, JP asked one of his peers to attend the ceremony to be held later that afternoon. His friend strongly suggested that there may be some l-e-g-a-l issues surrounding a US Soldier marrying a local Muslim woman and that he had better check with the JAG. Once he went to the JAG office, my officer learned of the extreme legal hurdles in his way and demurred from his quest.
Then I got a hold of Captain JP and counseled him. He had the unmitigated gall to say out loud that he couldn’t understand what the whole fuss was about and why the Army might have a say in his “private affairs.” I recommended that the best course of action for him was to return after the deployment, apply for a visa for her, and bring her back to the United States. When I laid it all out for him I think it was a little clearer and the matter, for the time being, was dropped.
And while the idea of getting married may have ended for my officer the situation was far from over for me because I work with a group of world class ball busters and this was a perfect diversion from their work and the issues within their own ranks. They pounced.
I had two choices, take a beating at the expense of the others, or go along with it at the expense of Captain JP. I found a middle ground. I expressed my embarrassment as a commander and made certain that I would contact my chain of command, advise them, and officially counsel my Soldier. I also took part in creating an elaborate story that was eventually told to the big boss.
The only fact the story that followed was that Captain JP had inquired on how to get married that same day. The part about the woman being the niece of one of the most influential sheiks in the region; we made that part up. The part about Captain JP promising a huge multi-million dollar project to the sheik as a dowry; we made that up too. The part about want to have extra ammo for “celebratory fire”; we made up. The part about Captain JP getting married because he HAD to; we made up. By the time we got done spinning the story no one knew what the truth was which helped to diffuse the situation entirely.
The original title of this entry was going to be, “The Bride Wore Body Armor," becuase there was only one story. Then the love bug bit someone else.
I thought the story of Captain JP was a love story gone wrong until I learned another story that left even more of a mark. A young Soldier (not mine) shot himself clean through the calf while trying to impress a female Soldier. Why did he have a loaded weapon? He was guarding local nationals working on the FOB! Imagine that; trying to impress a woman in front of the Iraqis and you shoot yourself through the leg. Imagine those Iraqi workers going home at the end of the day, “honey, those Americans are crazy! Today one of them tried to show a woman how tough he was by shooting himself through the leg!” Years from now, what kind of story the Soldier will tell his kids about that scar he got in the “Great War on Terror”?
To quote the great Bugs Bunny, “Love; ain’t it grand?”
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Father's Day 2009
Happy Father's Day!
I miss my kids. At times I am so tired of Iraq. Tired of the mission. Tired of dust and the heat and the routine. Tired of being lonely for my family. I look at my countdown clock and wish it faster.
In closing I offer another unaltered picture of "red air" taken the other day outside of my door. I wrote on Facebook that "I went to bed on Earth and woke up on Mars." Indeed.
I have two great kids; Samantha and TJ. Being away from them on Father's Day is just another reminder that the sacrifices Soldiers pay is not merely paid out by Soldiers alone. There is a cost levied on the children, spouses, and loved ones too.
My Father's Day started almost like any other Sunday; first I opened my presents that Lisa and the kids sent. Cards, a picture frame with a photo of TJ and I hamming it up, and a "Life is Good" t-shirt. Then is was off to an early breakfast, off to the office, read through emails which included a really sweet email from my daughter, when the power suddenly went out. The power went out because someone dug up the powerline putting in the swimming pool; which is a story for another time. Since all of my war fighting is done with a computer I was out of action.
With no power I went back to the compound - where there was electricity - and conducted "tanning operations". In other words I sat in the sun and worked on a tan until its intensity drove me inside. I got my hair cut, grabbed some lunch and confirmed that the power would be out until dinner. Great.
We wound up watching the Lord of Rings, The Fellowship of the Ring, for the three plus hours it takes to watch it. And still there was time left in the day. It's moments like those, when you are not busy that you miss home the most. On Father's Day only makes it worse. I headed to the gym to burn up some daylight and get some miles in on the treadmill.
I miss my kids. At times I am so tired of Iraq. Tired of the mission. Tired of dust and the heat and the routine. Tired of being lonely for my family. I look at my countdown clock and wish it faster.
In closing I offer another unaltered picture of "red air" taken the other day outside of my door. I wrote on Facebook that "I went to bed on Earth and woke up on Mars." Indeed.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
The Army Birthday
Today is the 234th birthday of the United States Army.
The parade showed the creativity of the Soldiers - although gladiators were a common theme. However, it was the flatbed truck with "The Village People" singing on it that won the commander's cup.
As usual, the dining hall did a phenomenal job of decorating and putting on tons of decent food and I put away my share of lobster tails and shrimp.
The day ended by being able to see Samantha, Lisa, and TJ from my computer with the help of Skype. Another day down. A good day all in all. Happy birthday to the one thing that I have been a part of for all my adult life.
We took an unofficial day off by not going into the office for more than three hours during which time we mostly caught up on emails. We also attended a parade put on by the brigade. Another sign the war is coming to an end is when you have time to have a parade, make floats for the parade, bring water guns, throw water balloons, and generally avoid work.
The parade showed the creativity of the Soldiers - although gladiators were a common theme. However, it was the flatbed truck with "The Village People" singing on it that won the commander's cup.
As usual, the dining hall did a phenomenal job of decorating and putting on tons of decent food and I put away my share of lobster tails and shrimp.
The day ended by being able to see Samantha, Lisa, and TJ from my computer with the help of Skype. Another day down. A good day all in all. Happy birthday to the one thing that I have been a part of for all my adult life.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Ikea, Junk Food, and a Flag for TJ
We are in the long haul to the finish line. Most of my Soldiers have been home on Leave and the last of them are coming back soon. Our replacements will leave the US in less than sixty days. In the mean time we still work in the day to day comings and goings of being deployed.
Last week I noticed that there were cups, real, dark blue ceramic cups, in the dining hall. Since I arrived here I have had to drink my coffee out of a Styrofoam cup in the morning, so getting a cup of coffee in a real mug is a great touch of “home”. The cups are located next to the coffee machine and are stacked upside down from the dishwasher. One day I noticed the bottom of the cup read “Ikea” the high end Swedish furniture and house wares store that my wife would drive four hours to go to. Cups from Ikea; bringing a touch of class to the war.
The other day someone brought the contents of their care package to the office. Sitting on the common table where our coffee maker is were assorted lollipops, chocolate, and a tube of Pringles®; sour cream and onion Pringles®. I had two or three because I like them and it had been a while since I had eaten real junk food – the kind with zero nutritional value but one hundred and ten percent taste. The transfat hit my taste buds and I knew in an instant that the tube was a goner. Fat tastes good. I ate at least half – in an hour – before I made one of my Soldiers get rid of them. With all of the food available in the dining hall all of the time it is easy to stop counting calories and enjoy food, glorious food! Since I arrived here in October I have been careful about what I eat allowing myself to let loose only once in a while. The Pringles® reminded me how easy it is to just gorge.
Last weekend was my son’s second birthday. TJ is an energetic boy who loves his trucks and trains. He loved to play cars with me when I was home. He misses me although I am a weird apparition to him showing up for a few weeks at a time or talking through the computer. In fact if you asked him where I was he’d probably point to the computer screen. Trying to find the right toy for him for his birthday was a challenge for me. Lisa and I could agree on a present from both of us, but I wanted to have something for my children that would be a unique present to represent their birthday while I was deployed. Iraqi toys come from China just like they do in the US and souvenirs from Babylon wouldn’t mean that much in years to come. In the end the answer was simple, really. I flew a US flag in our compound in Babil on my son’s birthday. It will be folded, cased, and given to him to have forever.
The days are getting longer and hotter; a sure sign the end of the deployment is coming. I keep posting until I get home.
Last week I noticed that there were cups, real, dark blue ceramic cups, in the dining hall. Since I arrived here I have had to drink my coffee out of a Styrofoam cup in the morning, so getting a cup of coffee in a real mug is a great touch of “home”. The cups are located next to the coffee machine and are stacked upside down from the dishwasher. One day I noticed the bottom of the cup read “Ikea” the high end Swedish furniture and house wares store that my wife would drive four hours to go to. Cups from Ikea; bringing a touch of class to the war.
The other day someone brought the contents of their care package to the office. Sitting on the common table where our coffee maker is were assorted lollipops, chocolate, and a tube of Pringles®; sour cream and onion Pringles®. I had two or three because I like them and it had been a while since I had eaten real junk food – the kind with zero nutritional value but one hundred and ten percent taste. The transfat hit my taste buds and I knew in an instant that the tube was a goner. Fat tastes good. I ate at least half – in an hour – before I made one of my Soldiers get rid of them. With all of the food available in the dining hall all of the time it is easy to stop counting calories and enjoy food, glorious food! Since I arrived here in October I have been careful about what I eat allowing myself to let loose only once in a while. The Pringles® reminded me how easy it is to just gorge.
Last weekend was my son’s second birthday. TJ is an energetic boy who loves his trucks and trains. He loved to play cars with me when I was home. He misses me although I am a weird apparition to him showing up for a few weeks at a time or talking through the computer. In fact if you asked him where I was he’d probably point to the computer screen. Trying to find the right toy for him for his birthday was a challenge for me. Lisa and I could agree on a present from both of us, but I wanted to have something for my children that would be a unique present to represent their birthday while I was deployed. Iraqi toys come from China just like they do in the US and souvenirs from Babylon wouldn’t mean that much in years to come. In the end the answer was simple, really. I flew a US flag in our compound in Babil on my son’s birthday. It will be folded, cased, and given to him to have forever.
The days are getting longer and hotter; a sure sign the end of the deployment is coming. I keep posting until I get home.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Around the World in 80 Days
Today we crossed that intangible line in space and time that marks eighty days to go until we are released from our mission. Intangible is a good word to use because I won’t be leaving Iraq in eighty days, I certainly won’t be done with work eighty days, and I most definitely won’t be home in eighty days. However, eighty days is less than three months, a little over eleven weeks, and that suits me fine.
Everyone is talking about going home in part because we have to and because we finally can. We have to talk about going home because the process to plan and coordinate the movement of people, equipment, and other logistical moves takes months to arrange. Units enter into a complex system that plugs into a long calendar with various important trigger points along the way. Packing gear in huge containers. Clearing customs. Transferring equipment. Flying to Kuwait. Flying home. All of these things and more need to synchronized, and for any one piece not happen at the right time the entire system breaks down. My crew is paying very close attention to those trigger points! In addition to this there are administrative, personnel, operational, and other logistical requirements for us to redeploy. It will be a long summer in the office sitting behind a desk.
And we are talking about home because we can. I think it’s unofficially okay to talk about going home once you fall within the ninety day window; anytime before ninety days and you’re just pining away and homesick. And – the more days that get crossed off of the calendar, the more enthusiasm you can say, “I’ve got X number of days left.”
With all of this going on we have also hit an upswing in work. The operational part of Civil Affairs has gotten busier in the last few weeks. What had been a long dry period of work and creativity has turned a corner in the last few days and I have found a project or two that can really occupy my non-administrative time over the next few weeks. I am excited and looking forward to these projects turning my remaining weeks in Iraq as busy as the first few weeks when I arrived here in October.
My countdown clock reads 80 days, 2 hrs, 18 min, 49 sec until I can really look forward to going to the other side of the world.
Everyone is talking about going home in part because we have to and because we finally can. We have to talk about going home because the process to plan and coordinate the movement of people, equipment, and other logistical moves takes months to arrange. Units enter into a complex system that plugs into a long calendar with various important trigger points along the way. Packing gear in huge containers. Clearing customs. Transferring equipment. Flying to Kuwait. Flying home. All of these things and more need to synchronized, and for any one piece not happen at the right time the entire system breaks down. My crew is paying very close attention to those trigger points! In addition to this there are administrative, personnel, operational, and other logistical requirements for us to redeploy. It will be a long summer in the office sitting behind a desk.
And we are talking about home because we can. I think it’s unofficially okay to talk about going home once you fall within the ninety day window; anytime before ninety days and you’re just pining away and homesick. And – the more days that get crossed off of the calendar, the more enthusiasm you can say, “I’ve got X number of days left.”
With all of this going on we have also hit an upswing in work. The operational part of Civil Affairs has gotten busier in the last few weeks. What had been a long dry period of work and creativity has turned a corner in the last few days and I have found a project or two that can really occupy my non-administrative time over the next few weeks. I am excited and looking forward to these projects turning my remaining weeks in Iraq as busy as the first few weeks when I arrived here in October.
My countdown clock reads 80 days, 2 hrs, 18 min, 49 sec until I can really look forward to going to the other side of the world.
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