Our replacements are in Kuwait! I have waited almost eleven months to be on the other end of that message; our replacements are in Kuwait. I have one of my guys down there to help them, train them, and escort them north to Iraq sometime soon. It is a relief. They are the relief. It’s almost time to go home.
I count the small victories over the past year. None more so than the four Soldiers I just sent home early so that they can start college on time. It was the cause that I got wrapped up in and fought to make happen. It wasn’t my idea to take credit for, but once the issue was brought to me it was clear that it made no sense to keep these Soldiers around during the time that they should be enrolled in classes. If we had been here another month I would have probably turned them down but this was just a matter of a few days. The Army wouldn’t miss them, but college would. For one Soldier it was his senior year of school and missing the fall semester requirements for the spring semester classes meant another year lost to gaining his degree.
Of course the first responses were, “No.” No justification, just, “No.” The Army is a big bureaucracy and NO is usually the first line of defense. However, asking the right person, the right way, at the right time led to the paperwork getting approved. It only took three months.
Aside from all of my Soldiers coming home safely; having never been shot at or blown up or hurt, this is a win for the little guys. In each of them there is promise; one will be a great NCO, the other will go to do good things as a teacher, one may even decide to be an officer through ROTC. My hope is that they remember back to this moment until they are in a time and place when they can help someone else. Pay it forward.
Their departure and the arrival of the new unit signifies the beginning of the end of the tour. We are preparing all of our continuity books and writing our after action reports for the tour. Work has indeed gotten busier, but busier in a good way.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
The Soundtrack
In my free time I go to the gym, because, honestly, there isn’t much else to do. I lift weights with my First Sergeant just before lunch. We go in uniform and take off the cap, gun, and ACU top shirt to work out in our t-shirts, pants, and trousers – just like 75% of the other troops in the gym. Like anything that you stick with over time, it gets easier. It gets easier because I am getting stronger. But I have never been much of a “body builder.” I have always been a runner.
When I’m lucky I get in a good cardio workout at least three to four times per week. I bring the iPod that Lisa gave me, grab water from the fridge and head to a treadmill. Although I am an outdoor runner and loathe running in place, the weather and road conditions really prohibit running outside. Over the months I have found the set of music that as I get ready, pipes through my ear buds and carries me through the next 40 minutes.
I warm up and stretch out to Queen’s, Fat Bottom Girls, for no particular reason. For a longer stretch I add Metallica’s, I Disappear, before mounting the machine. I don’t particularly believe the pace the machine says I am running but it’s all I have to report on.
I start off at a 7.5mph pace to The Red Hot Chili Pepper’s, Dani California. I never got too into the group, but I loved this video. That gets the blood going for the first half mile. I turn up the pace to 8.5mph for AC/DC’s, Highway to Hell, and then right into, Thunderstruck. By now I am sweating. When The Doors, LA Woman, starts the tempo brings me to an 8.7mph pace that lets me keep in time with the beat. By now I am at least two thirds done with my run. I dial up to 9.1mph and instantly feel more sweat run down my forehead, off my eyelashes, into my ears. Depending on how I am feeling I finish with a little GnR, Welcome to the Jungle, and briefly imagine Lisa on Guitar Hero, or back to Metallica with either, Whisky in a Jar, or, Fuel.
My run's over and it’s time for the rowing machine. I added rowing about two months ago to include upper body movement to the cardio work out. By now my t-shirt is wet and I am slick with perspiration. I row to more AC/DC – Shoot to Thrill and Have a Drink on Me. The Back in Black album is one of my top ten, must-have-in-my collection. I have been able to cover 2 kilometers in the time it take to play both songs; a little under ten minutes. I am getting fast enough that I’ll add another song and another kilometer this week.
Now it gets tough. Now I am soaked through my shirt. If I were any other gym people might stare by now. Here I am just another person with a tough workout to get through and I am about three quarters done. I go to the decline sit-up bench set at a forty-five degree angle. I take a twelve pound medicine ball and hold onto it as Van Halen’s, Panama, starts. I take the ball and hold it over my head and sit back until I am lying on the bench and the ball touches the ground. Then I sit up. Sometimes I throw the ball in the air, catch it, and do a sit up. Sometimes I turn from side to side holding the ball. Sometimes I just hold it into my chest and do sit ups. Whatever I do, I do it for the whole song without stopping. Panama is three minutes and thirty one seconds long.
I get off the bench and go to the mat. The Black Eyed Peas, Pump It, starts and I finish my abs with crunches, leg lifts, scissor kicks, bicycles, and the like for the entire song. But at least I am now near the finish line.
I go to the pull up bar and turn on Aerosmith’s, Honkin’ on Bobo album. The band put out this blues-cover- tribute-sounding album a few years ago and it can really get me going. As, Road Runner, starts and continues into, Shame, Shame, Shame, I complete a set of two pushups for one pull up for five to six sets. I am up to seven pull ups. Seven times five is thirty-five. Fourteen times five is seventy. Sweat pools below me now. Still on the Bobo album I finish the workout with, Baby Please Don’t Go, with four or five sets of weighted abs.
And that’s it. Maybe a little Neal Young, Keep On Rocking in the Free World, as I head back to the office as wet as if I’d showered with my clothes on. There are times I leave the gym nauseous. I finish my daily report and go shower before dinner.
Most times the music is white noise to take my attention away from the other sounds in the gym. I can tune out the white noise and think. Othertimes the music carries me and pushes me when I would rather slow down or hit the stop button. However, I doubt I can hear any of those songs again without thinking about the treadmill, or the decline bench, or the hours I spent getting in the best shape of my life.
When I’m lucky I get in a good cardio workout at least three to four times per week. I bring the iPod that Lisa gave me, grab water from the fridge and head to a treadmill. Although I am an outdoor runner and loathe running in place, the weather and road conditions really prohibit running outside. Over the months I have found the set of music that as I get ready, pipes through my ear buds and carries me through the next 40 minutes.
I warm up and stretch out to Queen’s, Fat Bottom Girls, for no particular reason. For a longer stretch I add Metallica’s, I Disappear, before mounting the machine. I don’t particularly believe the pace the machine says I am running but it’s all I have to report on.
I start off at a 7.5mph pace to The Red Hot Chili Pepper’s, Dani California. I never got too into the group, but I loved this video. That gets the blood going for the first half mile. I turn up the pace to 8.5mph for AC/DC’s, Highway to Hell, and then right into, Thunderstruck. By now I am sweating. When The Doors, LA Woman, starts the tempo brings me to an 8.7mph pace that lets me keep in time with the beat. By now I am at least two thirds done with my run. I dial up to 9.1mph and instantly feel more sweat run down my forehead, off my eyelashes, into my ears. Depending on how I am feeling I finish with a little GnR, Welcome to the Jungle, and briefly imagine Lisa on Guitar Hero, or back to Metallica with either, Whisky in a Jar, or, Fuel.
My run's over and it’s time for the rowing machine. I added rowing about two months ago to include upper body movement to the cardio work out. By now my t-shirt is wet and I am slick with perspiration. I row to more AC/DC – Shoot to Thrill and Have a Drink on Me. The Back in Black album is one of my top ten, must-have-in-my collection. I have been able to cover 2 kilometers in the time it take to play both songs; a little under ten minutes. I am getting fast enough that I’ll add another song and another kilometer this week.
Now it gets tough. Now I am soaked through my shirt. If I were any other gym people might stare by now. Here I am just another person with a tough workout to get through and I am about three quarters done. I go to the decline sit-up bench set at a forty-five degree angle. I take a twelve pound medicine ball and hold onto it as Van Halen’s, Panama, starts. I take the ball and hold it over my head and sit back until I am lying on the bench and the ball touches the ground. Then I sit up. Sometimes I throw the ball in the air, catch it, and do a sit up. Sometimes I turn from side to side holding the ball. Sometimes I just hold it into my chest and do sit ups. Whatever I do, I do it for the whole song without stopping. Panama is three minutes and thirty one seconds long.
I get off the bench and go to the mat. The Black Eyed Peas, Pump It, starts and I finish my abs with crunches, leg lifts, scissor kicks, bicycles, and the like for the entire song. But at least I am now near the finish line.
I go to the pull up bar and turn on Aerosmith’s, Honkin’ on Bobo album. The band put out this blues-cover- tribute-sounding album a few years ago and it can really get me going. As, Road Runner, starts and continues into, Shame, Shame, Shame, I complete a set of two pushups for one pull up for five to six sets. I am up to seven pull ups. Seven times five is thirty-five. Fourteen times five is seventy. Sweat pools below me now. Still on the Bobo album I finish the workout with, Baby Please Don’t Go, with four or five sets of weighted abs.
And that’s it. Maybe a little Neal Young, Keep On Rocking in the Free World, as I head back to the office as wet as if I’d showered with my clothes on. There are times I leave the gym nauseous. I finish my daily report and go shower before dinner.
Most times the music is white noise to take my attention away from the other sounds in the gym. I can tune out the white noise and think. Othertimes the music carries me and pushes me when I would rather slow down or hit the stop button. However, I doubt I can hear any of those songs again without thinking about the treadmill, or the decline bench, or the hours I spent getting in the best shape of my life.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
What’s Hot
Iraq in the summer time tests the will.
It has been a mild summer so far. There have only been a few days where the temperatures have risen over 130°. Most days it gets into the upper one-teens and when we actually notice the heat enough to comment on it, it’s a sign that the mercury is over 120°. So how hot is that?
At 120°, when the wind blows at a steady five miles per hour, it gives the impression of being in front of a constant hair dryer. I haven’t needed a hair dryer in about twenty years when I wore a Don Johnson mullet; you know, “business up front, party in the back.”
It’s so hot here that we have no cold water. Ever. Our water tanks sit outside so they can be filled each week. The water is warm even in the morning because the temperatures rarely go below 85°. The midday sun gets that water over 100° and then when we turn on the faucet or shower after the gym the initial burst is scalding. Have you ever brushed your teeth with hot water?
It’s so hot here that sometimes metal is too hot to touch. The other Sunday I was doing a crossword puzzle outside at 1030 hours. I put my pen down to get something, got sidetracked for a few minutes and when I came back the pen was cooking. If I am outside for too long my pistol grip gets hot.
It’s so hot here that if you breathe through your nose on a hot, hot day it burns the inside of your nostrils.
It’s so hot here that if you are outside for a few minutes you clothes get warm to the touch.
It’s so hot here that I can hand wash my gym shorts and shirt, hang them up outside in the sun, and be ready to wear them again in twenty minutes.
We combat the heat with water; clear, clean, cool water. There are liters of it in every building. I can go through three to four bottles a day. We also have air conditioning, without which we’d all be extremely miserable. My office, room, and truck are all air conditioned. The MRAPs are air conditioned. The gym, dining facility, and coffee shop are all temperature controlled for comfort.
It’s possible to survive in these conditions; just look at the Iraqis. Arabs have existed and lived in this place for thousands of years. They farm this land, channel water for thousands of miles via canals, and manage the heat as they have learned from their ancestors. And while I cannot fathom why they choose to live here, I suppose after one “lake effect” winter in Syracuse, NY they would wonder the same about us.
It has been a mild summer so far. There have only been a few days where the temperatures have risen over 130°. Most days it gets into the upper one-teens and when we actually notice the heat enough to comment on it, it’s a sign that the mercury is over 120°. So how hot is that?
At 120°, when the wind blows at a steady five miles per hour, it gives the impression of being in front of a constant hair dryer. I haven’t needed a hair dryer in about twenty years when I wore a Don Johnson mullet; you know, “business up front, party in the back.”
It’s so hot here that we have no cold water. Ever. Our water tanks sit outside so they can be filled each week. The water is warm even in the morning because the temperatures rarely go below 85°. The midday sun gets that water over 100° and then when we turn on the faucet or shower after the gym the initial burst is scalding. Have you ever brushed your teeth with hot water?
It’s so hot here that sometimes metal is too hot to touch. The other Sunday I was doing a crossword puzzle outside at 1030 hours. I put my pen down to get something, got sidetracked for a few minutes and when I came back the pen was cooking. If I am outside for too long my pistol grip gets hot.
It’s so hot here that if you breathe through your nose on a hot, hot day it burns the inside of your nostrils.
It’s so hot here that if you are outside for a few minutes you clothes get warm to the touch.
It’s so hot here that I can hand wash my gym shorts and shirt, hang them up outside in the sun, and be ready to wear them again in twenty minutes.
We combat the heat with water; clear, clean, cool water. There are liters of it in every building. I can go through three to four bottles a day. We also have air conditioning, without which we’d all be extremely miserable. My office, room, and truck are all air conditioned. The MRAPs are air conditioned. The gym, dining facility, and coffee shop are all temperature controlled for comfort.
It’s possible to survive in these conditions; just look at the Iraqis. Arabs have existed and lived in this place for thousands of years. They farm this land, channel water for thousands of miles via canals, and manage the heat as they have learned from their ancestors. And while I cannot fathom why they choose to live here, I suppose after one “lake effect” winter in Syracuse, NY they would wonder the same about us.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
The Fourth of July and Other Good News
We hold these Truths to be self evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness –
This weekend we pursued happiness on the Fourth of July with a party to remember. A lot of effort went into the day’s festivities and I have to hand it to those who put it together – it wasn’t bad.
Our day started early with the July 4th 5k race. Half of my company got up with the sun and headed to the start line before the sun got to intense. Most of them just wanted the free t-shirt, but found out that they had to actually run first. The race had about 140 people come out and everyone seemed to have a good time. After the race I headed off to work because there was work to do. By 1500 (3:00pm) we were done with work and went back to the compound to change into civilian clothes. Yes, we were allowed to wear civilian clothes to the party.
The clothing was the biggest surprise of the day because day in and day out all we ever see of one another is ACUs or PTs (Army shorts and t-shirt). The freedom of expression in personal attire was interesting. There were Goths and punks, gangsters and cowboys, Hawaiian shirts and "wife beaters". And for the first time since they got here the women were allowed to let down their hair and wear make up – and did they ever. Let’s face it; guys look the same in uniform or civies. There’s not much you can do with the quarter inch hair. Women on the other hand just look different when they are not in uniform.
We all rolled out to the main brigade area, which we call “the quad” because it is surrounded by four long buildings in each direction, for a formation, a short speech and the start of the events. The quad had been transformed into volleyball courts, arm wrestling tables, RockBand contests, Near Beer Pong tables, barbeque pits, and the infamous Slip-n-Slide.
The slip-n-slide was put in late last month along with a thirty foot long, two and half foot deep wading pool. This is what they were making the day they cut the main power line to my building. The excavated dirt made up the ramp for the slide. The dirt was covered with a heavy tarp, then plastic sheeting, and then a coat of baby oil. Water was pumped through a 5,000 gallon water truck. It wasn’t pretty, but it was fun.
The party got rambunctious when water balloon and water guns were introduced into the fray. No one from the lowest Private to the Brigade Commander was immune to the random acts of water fight violence. Then, because all parties with a pool end this way, people were simply thrown in.
Of course the night ended with a bon fire and the obligatory fireworks which were handed out to the troops just like on New Year’s. And just like New Year’s it’s a wonder and a miracle that we didn’t burn any of the plywood buildings down.
In other good news we began to ship the first pieces of military gear back to the United States. It was loaded, labeled, lifted, and trucked to Baghdad where it will be inspected by U.S. Customs before being flown back to home.
Having less gear in my room is another reminder that “this” is coming to a close, that we will be home soon.
This weekend we pursued happiness on the Fourth of July with a party to remember. A lot of effort went into the day’s festivities and I have to hand it to those who put it together – it wasn’t bad.
Our day started early with the July 4th 5k race. Half of my company got up with the sun and headed to the start line before the sun got to intense. Most of them just wanted the free t-shirt, but found out that they had to actually run first. The race had about 140 people come out and everyone seemed to have a good time. After the race I headed off to work because there was work to do. By 1500 (3:00pm) we were done with work and went back to the compound to change into civilian clothes. Yes, we were allowed to wear civilian clothes to the party.
The clothing was the biggest surprise of the day because day in and day out all we ever see of one another is ACUs or PTs (Army shorts and t-shirt). The freedom of expression in personal attire was interesting. There were Goths and punks, gangsters and cowboys, Hawaiian shirts and "wife beaters". And for the first time since they got here the women were allowed to let down their hair and wear make up – and did they ever. Let’s face it; guys look the same in uniform or civies. There’s not much you can do with the quarter inch hair. Women on the other hand just look different when they are not in uniform.
We all rolled out to the main brigade area, which we call “the quad” because it is surrounded by four long buildings in each direction, for a formation, a short speech and the start of the events. The quad had been transformed into volleyball courts, arm wrestling tables, RockBand contests, Near Beer Pong tables, barbeque pits, and the infamous Slip-n-Slide.
The slip-n-slide was put in late last month along with a thirty foot long, two and half foot deep wading pool. This is what they were making the day they cut the main power line to my building. The excavated dirt made up the ramp for the slide. The dirt was covered with a heavy tarp, then plastic sheeting, and then a coat of baby oil. Water was pumped through a 5,000 gallon water truck. It wasn’t pretty, but it was fun.
The party got rambunctious when water balloon and water guns were introduced into the fray. No one from the lowest Private to the Brigade Commander was immune to the random acts of water fight violence. Then, because all parties with a pool end this way, people were simply thrown in.
Of course the night ended with a bon fire and the obligatory fireworks which were handed out to the troops just like on New Year’s. And just like New Year’s it’s a wonder and a miracle that we didn’t burn any of the plywood buildings down.
In other good news we began to ship the first pieces of military gear back to the United States. It was loaded, labeled, lifted, and trucked to Baghdad where it will be inspected by U.S. Customs before being flown back to home.
Having less gear in my room is another reminder that “this” is coming to a close, that we will be home soon.
I wrote in my daily report that we are reminded on the Fourth of July that the freedoms we enjoy come at the price of eternal vigilence. I didn't make that up, its a quote that's stuck in my head. I went on to write that like millions before us we take up an oath with the full knowledge that we will go into harm's way for a people who can seem less appreciative than we expect, in a country inhospitable with heat and dust, and where complacency can can kill. We hope that one day the people of Iraq can celebrate their own independence as we celebrate ours.
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