It’s been busy, so I’ll back track little bit to when we first got here to Normandy.

 

            One of the first things we needed to do was set up a retrans site on the FOB that would enable comms out into our AO.  There was already a site in place, so location was no big deal.  I went with a few of my guys to check it out and make sure it was acceptable.

            The site itself was fine, it lacked some amenities (such as working AC), but other than that was good.  The interesting thing about the site was its location.  It’s situated on a ridgeline about 200 feet above the rest of Iraq, overlooking our AO.  Immediately surrounding the site are the high, sandstone rocks that make up the ridgeline.  In this stone are numerous shallow caves, old Arabic writings carved into them, and the typical refuse that occurs when people enter an area.

            The whole of FOB Normandy is rich in history, ranging from its use during World War I as a British/Indian/Pakistani fort overlooking the area (the towers still dot the ridgeline and the tomb of a British General still remain to this day) to its most recent occupants before us – a Corps of Iraqi Army Soldiers and a Basic Training location for the Iraqi Army.  Today it is mostly occupied by New Iraqi Army Soldiers and us.  There are not enough Soldiers here to use all of the structures that are here; many have become abandoned, disused and neglected.  This was once a well-kept place, you can tell by the structures that are here.  There are mosques, buildings with swimming pools, shooting ranges, and two vehicle scarp yards.  

One scrap yard is full of old tanks and armored vehicles that someone is still trying to fix up to make operational for the Iraqis – in it are old T-72 Soviet tanks, M-68 American tanks, British tanks, and numerous APCs, Anti-aircraft tracks, rocket trucks, and other armored vehicles that for one reason or another have come to rest here.  In the other scrap yard are the armored vehicles that have little to no chance of recovery and those are the ones I was told to be careful of.  Some of them have big holes punched in their turrets that indicates they were hit by depleted uranium rounds.  Depleted uranium is radioactive.  They don’t glow at night, but I’ve steered clear of there anyway.  Better safe than sorry.

But, back to the site in question.

Once we were up on the hill, I decided to look around – being of a curious nature.  From the top of the hill I can see almost to Baqubah to the west and on a clear morning can see the mountain ranges in Iran in the east.  A lake north of Normandy is also visible and the Diyala river that runs out of it.  It appears as though at one time in the past, the entire ridgeline was underwater.  Great chunks of land have been pushed up to the east, causing a broken effect on the terrain and making it appear difficult to cross in that direction.  Down the slopes of the ridgeline, I found old Arabic writing, discarded Anti-Aircraft rounds, and, oddly enough, white sea-shells – in the mountains of Iraq; I thought that was odd.  On top of the ridge-line are old anti-aircraft gun emplacement and the occasion AA barrel.

Walking down the path, I discovered what appeared to be a man-made tunnel, evidenced by the bricks that supported its roof, and two metal boxes that looked very much like CHUs.  Upon closer examination of the tunnel, it was indeed manmade.  It looks like someone tried to block it off, but only managed to make it inaccessible by vehicle traffic, it was still very easy to walk into.

Once inside the tunnel, the ground turned very very soft and the air was dusty.  Above our heads, bat flew around near the ceiling, ducking in and out and generally bouncing around the area.  We could see the end of the tunnel about 150 meter straight through and began to walk.  As we did, the bats became thicker over us.  The ceiling to the tunnel was approximately 15 feet high and the bats swarmed all over it.  We were wearing our uniforms with sleeves rolled down, gloves, hats and eye protection, so we were pretty well covered if a random bat bumped into us by accident.  

About halfway through the tunnel there was a big crack than ran through the ceiling.  The crack appeared to be very deep into the mountain and was full of bats, just hanging there.  Towards the end of the tunnel was a huge cavern in the ceiling, almost perfectly round and straight up.  It was also full of bats.  I’d estimate the bat population in the 10,000s.  Continuing through, we ran into another half-assed blockade and climbed over it back into the sunlight.  It was hot, and we had checked out the tunnel, but down the road to our front lay another tunnel – and who can pass up a little exploration?

We walked another 300 meters to the beginning of the next tunnel and walked through.  This tunnel was very unlike the first.  There were no bats and the dust was thin on the ground.  The tunnel was shorter (about 50 meters long) and we walked through.  On the other side we came out and saw an inscription engraved on the wall.  It read, “106th Huzzara Pioneers, 1918.”  So, the tunnels were carved out of the mountain in 1918, but the question still remained as to why.  We walked further up the road until it stopped winding and opened into a vast open space into the desert.  Across the open desert we saw three big caves that appeared to be almost identical.  They seemed to have openings at least 30 feet high and were about 10 feet apart.  I was tempted to give it a shot and walk across, but it was too far.  At that point we stopped – we were hot, sweaty, and didn’t have water with us (it was in the trucks we left up at the site).  Taking into consideration these factors, we stopped there and turned around to head back.  

Nearby, the Diyala river flowed past, beckoning us to go for a swim.  But, we know what is in the water and so it really wasn’t that tempting.  It looked like a nice clean clear blue water, and by Iraqi standards I’m sure it was very clean, but by US standards it was bad.

After coming out of the first tunnel I stopped to check out the boxes that looked like CHU’s.  They were train cars.  So, putting two and two together, I determined that the 106^th Huzzara Pioneers had carved the tunnels in the mountains for a railroad link that ran probably between Turkey or Iran and here to what was once their out-post during World War I.

There are many other things to find here on this FOB that are lost, ruined, or abandoned.  History lives here somewhere – its just a matter of finding it.

The Arabic writing on the stones.  No idea what they mean.

 
Bats swarm above the heads of my Soldiers as the near the end of the first tunnel.

 
”106th Huzzara Pioneers, 1918.”

 
Showing the more elaborate entrance to the tunnel with the pioneer’s emblem in the corners.

 
Just posing with some WWI memorabilia.

 
Looking through the second tunnel towards the first.

 
The entrance to the tunnel – partially blocked off.

 
Why I think it was a train tunnel.

First day of school

         So my youngest daughter started school the other day.  She was soooo excited!  I wish I could have been there but Ive been able to live vicariously through all of the pictures and all the play-by-play my wife sent.  I sorta was there because I was on the phone with my wife at the time and it was very exciting!  And somewhat scary  I mean, its my last kid to get into school shes not a baby any more.  Shes not a toddler shes actually in school!  Ok, so, its pre-school, but she still goes somewhere during the day and learns stuff from someone else shes not just OURS anymore.
             She was very very excited about school and has been since she first realized that her sisters were going somewhere all day and then coming back later.  She realized that she was missing something and was jealous of them. 
             When we first took her to daycare, I thought she would be scared and afraid to stay without a parent, but I was wrong.  She took off after a few moments, said, Im going to color! and that was it she was gone.  Not a look back, maybe just a wave goodbye.  That was her start in school and shes been hooked on it since.  I suppose thats good             So, I got to hear her first day to school.  She was very excited and didnt want to talk very much but who can blame her!  She was off to her first day of school!  It hurts that I couldnt be there, but Im glad that I did talk to her while she was getting ready to go.  That helped me to feel like a part of it, even just a small part.
               I thought maybe the excitement would wear off after a few days, but it doesnt seem to have abated much, she is still excited to go and cant wait to get out the door.  So far, her only real complaint is that she doesnt get to ride the bus with her sisters.
               I cant wait to get home and see it for myself.  Below are some pictures of her first day to school:
***

Talking on the phone with Daddy before going to school.

This picture reminds me of Dora the Explorer for some reason yeah, little blurry but I love it.

Just cant get the first-day-of-school smile off her face!

After a long day, she crashes on the couch for a few hours.

Another Journey

            Finally, after many weeks and months of yes and no, maybe, maybe not, going here, no go there, or there or maybe somewhere else.  We finally rolled out of FOB Wilson, leaving the FOB to the Iraqi Army, Police and a new Iraqi Company.

            We rolled out with about 50 trucks including M1114 Humvees, Lowboy Cargo trucks and HETT (Heavy Equipment Transport Trucks) with our heavy Bradley Fighting Vehicles on top.  Needless to say the trip was sloooooow.  I had the lead truck and we averaged about 15 miles an hour over the entire 140 mile trip.  Some of the slowness was caused by the inability for the big trucks to get up to speed before they had to slow down to turn or take a bridge (not exactly the US Interstate system here).  Then, going through towns and cities also slowed us down.  Another cause of decreased speed was having to look for pressure switch wires or plates in the road which is a common technique of the insurgents. 

            *A note on pressure switches: Pressure switches are anything that detonates an explosive by means of a vehicle of person causing the completion of an electrical circuit.  They come in many flavors and are often referred to as VIED (Victim-initiated IEDs).  Some are like plastic or rubber tubing with interwoven copper wires that connect when driven over; others are Christmas tree lights that complete the circuit when one of them is broken (by a humvee running them over).  The lights are strung across the road and painted black at night they are virtually impossible to see and ARE impossible to see when they are covered over on a dirt road.  Some recent insurgents have taken to rigging old Soviet Era anti-tank mines to pressure switches which ensures that the mine detonates underneath the personnel compartment of a tracked vehicle rather than a track.  Pressure switches cannot be countered by electronic means and there is no trigger man to identify so they are a great insurgent device.  * End of Note

            We drove slow, very slow.  The danger of an insurgent ambush is much lower than any of the IEDs that are out there.  And besides that, the insurgents wouldnt be able to hold up in a sustained firefight for any real length of time on a moving force with .50 cal machine guns, MK19 Automatic Grenade launchers, M240B 7.62mm machine guns and very quick access to AH-64 Apache Gunship Helicopters and Close Air Support from nearby F-16 Falcons and F-15 Eagles.  So, IEDs are the best bet.  Hit and run.  Or rather, hit and be no where around.

            Enroute to the first stop, one of the HETTs blew three tires and a small contingent of our security stayed behind while the rest of the patrol continued up the road to the next FOB.  At LSA Anaconda we waited for about an hour with no contact with the left-behind group before we got concerned.  When we couldnt reach them after that, we whipped out the Queams antenna and stood it up.  No more than 10 minutes later the left-behind group rolled up into the holding area.  We had been on the road for about 4 hours to go about 65 miles.

            One of the humvees blew its A/C line and dumped Freon into the atmosphere.  The bad news is that in 120 degree heat, with no AC, a humvee is just a convection oven and is unsafe to travel in.  Very unsafe.  We loaded that truck up with gear from the other trucks and put the people into other trucks.

            We left Anaconda at 1300 that day after grabbing some food, gas and some sleep on or in the trucks.  Back on the road we drove slowly again, even though it was daytime, so that the trucks could keep up.  At some point we crossed the Tigris River on a floating bridge.  The humvees have no trouble on the floating bridge, but the big trucks have to go over one at a time so that it doesnt put too much strain on it. 

            After the last truck crossed we began to move again but were halted by the patrol leader because of a heat casualty.  Someone got dehydrated and got sick actually two people were not doing well.  A medevac helicopter was called in and took them away one returned to Normandy that night, the other stayed over night with heat exhaustion.

            The rest of the painfully slow trip through Iraq, past FOB Warhorse, through Baqubah was pleasantly uneventful, even if damned hot.  Even with AC in a humvee the ambient air temp is about 90 degrees.  Add to that your IBAS body armor and Kevlar and your body temperature skyrockets.  Water and Gatorade in the cooler are necessities even after the water is hot you still have to drink it.

            Driving through Muqdadiah was also quiet, and slow.  The people seemed leery of us and didnt wave.  During the whole trip I was trying to pay attention to who waved and who didnt and I noticed that fewer people waved during this trip than on any of the other excursions Ive taken.  Maybe thats just my perception, maybe its nothing.  Some kids did wave, but fewer maybe it was just too hot to expend the energy.  Some adults waved too as we drove past their cars, so I take THAT as a good sign.

            Once on the FOB, the flaw in the grand movement plan showed itself.  No one met us at the gate to direct us where to go and no plan had been briefed about it, so we pulled into a big parking lot and called for guidance.  We were in the wrong parking lot and let me tell you, turning around 50 vehicles with heavy equipment on them in a confined space is not easy.
            So begins the next chapter of this Iraqi Deployment.

- My Truck

-The Big Trucks

-Inside the truck

-Setting up the Queams antenna

-Racked out for a few hours snooze

-The floating bridge over the Tigris

-Waving Iraqi

-"Hot" Iraqi Women (its 115 degrees out)

-What I assume to be a wedding vehicle

The RE-Sensing Session

The meeting last night was almost exactly the opposite of what I had first thought it would be.  It wasn't a witch-hunt to find out who dropped dimes on the Squadron or who said what or even as a form of mass punishment.  The reason for the second "sensing session" was an attempt by the SCO to find out what is truely wrong and what is just a bunch of Soldiers venting their frustrations to a willing ear - who happened to be a General. 
   Apparently before the General left, he gave the SCO a rather unpleasant monologue about how screwed up the Squadron is an that it all stems from the leadership in the Headquarters.  I knew that the General had said something like that.  And I knew that it would be a big blow for the SCO - a man who is very proud of what he does and what the Squadron has been doing here.  I don't know what the General's problem was, but I know that he does not have an accurate perception of what the Squadron is doing here.  To the credit of the SCO, he took it as well as one could expect and instead of retaliating or making any flash judgements, he went back to the people who had the complaints to find out what was going on.  That is a demonstration of good leadership.  Also, the fact that he didn't just blow off the scathing criticism, but is electing to do something with the parts that actually mean something is also good.
   We had a discussion about what was really wrong, and what was a perception issue in the Soldiers.  I think what it comes down to is a lack of telling the Soldiers "Why?"  Why they are going here or there (either before or after the mission) and also a lack of telling the Soldiers what the big picture looks like. 
    What our Soldiers need to know is that we are doing good things here, that the missions they go on aren't always successful in the fact that they don't always catch the guy they looking for.  BUT they ARE successful in the fact that most missions are not a single patrol going to one place to get someone.  They usually have three or so patrols out going to different places at the same time to catch someone.  Now, in that scenario ONLY *1* patrol is going to be successful, the other three won't be (in the sense of catching the bad guys), but ALL of the patrols were necessary to the big mission of CATCHING THE GUY. 
     Even the big missions where we don't get what we are looking for are generally successful in some sense of the matter.  We may not get exactly what we are looking for, but more often than not we are successful in getting something - whether its information, or a cell phone (that may have lead to information that eventually led to killing Al-Zaqarwi), or a weapons cache or any number of other things that the Soldiers just turn over to the higher ups and never see again.  The thing is all of that stuff goes somewhere and someone does something with it - the videos and cds get checked for clues as to where other bad guys are, or what they are doing and how they are doing it.  The cell phones are checked for numbers and traced to other people, creating a web of bad guys.  The weapons caches are blown up and that means less bombs and crap to blow us up with.  Each bit helps and each piece counts.  I only wish that the NCOs and the LTs that deal with the Soldiers on the line were able to convey this to them.  As it stands, apparently they don't and from my perspective, seeing what is going on at above the ground floor (but well below many others), *I* can see the difference.  The fact that we aren't screwing up people houses for the sake of it, that we haven't killed anyone here and we haven't been killed - that doesn't mean we are doing bad here, it means we are doing fantastic!  No one killed, but about 150 or more captured and send to jail is great!  And those people aren't the people getting out in 48 hours or 72 hours, those are bad guys who we have lots of info about and who go away for a long time.  The fact that the Squadron has not lost ONE SINGLE SOLDIER in the 9 months we've been here is nothing less than amazing and a tribute to the level of planning and consideration that goes into each and every mission that any of the Soldiers goes on.  Very few other combat units involved in the level of combat this Squadron has can say the same.  And few others can say they have killed zero civilians on accident or mistake and still have put bad guys out of the system.  Dead bad guys are bad guys no longer, but they don't have the ability to tell us where the other bad guys are. 
    Many of the bad guys aren't even really bad guys, in my opinion.  Do they set bombs on the side of the road?  Yes, some do.  Why are those people not really bad guys?  Well, they are and they aren't.  When they are putting the bombs in, I would have no issue with them getting shot and killed.  At that point they ARE the bad guy.  But, really, they are not the insurgents or the real bad guys.  Most of the IED emplacers are just local citizens who need the money provided by the insurgents (who get the money and are kept in the money by the corrupt government - but thats a whole different rant).  They are not much different from the mother who steals a loaf of bread to feed her children.  Is it wrong?  Yes.  Sometimes do you have a choice?  Maybe not.  Now, the reason I say this is because of the lack of success that 98% of the IEDs here are having.  Most are poorly placed and ineffective - I don't think that that's an accident with how long this fight has been going on.  They get paid by the bomb that goes off, not by what it does.  We can tell when a bomb is set by someone with intent to kill - they are sometimes effective.  We lost a truck to one - but the passengers got out ok.  The truck burned to the ground - THAT one was set by the REAL bad guys - not some poor Iraqi with no job and no money.
    We take every precaution to protect our Soldiers first and the lives of the innocent civilians second.  AND we get the job done.  We recently caught a guy in our area who was way up on the "catch" list - and even in that, no one was injured on either side.  Here, in this area, we are making things better.  In other places the case isn't the same - even though they may have a higher kill ratio - and probably have lost a Soldier or two.

Sensing Session

  Wow, yesterday's meeting is apparently not quite over.  Let me go back to last nights meeting with the General which was couched to us and the Soldiers as a "Sensing Session."  For the record, a sensing session is supposed to be where someone comes along and tries to guage the command climate in your unit - ie, is there sexual harrasment?  how much?  who is doing it?  do you feel comfortable talking to your chain of command.  Its usually about sexual harrasment, other harrasment and other kinds of EO stuff.  So, when we go in there at 2330, this is what we think its going to be about - and we've been on "standby" mode right outside the door for about an hour or more - so we're a little antsy. 
     We (we being all the LTs in the Squadron) go in and sit down.  The General is already there - of course.  The first thing his says is something about an "investigation" which immediately sets off bells in my head and changes my tone and attitude towards the meeting.  I know I haven't done anything wrong, but now I know to be on my guard.  Then he starts asking the LTs about EOF.  EOF stands for Escalation Of Force, or the steps we take before resorting to lethal force (ie, shouting, showing weapons, etc etc etc).  We get off to a bad start when the first LT he calls on doesnt even know what EOF stands for - I'm sure its just because he's tired and not understand the question or its context - but none-the-less, when an LT who leads patrols everyday and briefs his Soldiers on this doesnt immediately come up with the answer to an easy question like that - hell begins.  The questioning continues about EOF and ROE (Rules of Engagement), warning shots, etc etc.  And then it gets into the General asking questions that seem worded  to either A) draw a specific answer or B) are based on the answers given by the previous groups to talk to him (the NCOs and Soldiers).  I think its a mixture and the optimist in me thinks its more likely to be "B."  The questions range from whether or not the Squadron is micro-managing what the Troops do, to whether we should fire warning shots, to the perceived effectiveness of the missions we do.  I think that the Soldiers and/or NCOs pretty much told the General that most of the big missions we go on are a waste of time and we don't accomplish anything - which isn't true, but the Soldiers don't always get the bigger picture and so when THEIR particular piece of the pie has no cherries. they think the whole pie is empty (make any sense?).  After we left, an hour and a half later, I had a very bad feeling that this "anonymous" sensing session was going to come down hard on the SCO, mostly because of perceived - not actual - grieviences from Soldiers and NCOs and plain old stupidity and lack of concentration by the LTs.  Now, not everyone screwed things up and most people were good with their answers - but its always the bad ones that get the most attention you know?  One guy's answer to everything was that he didn't know because he'd only been here a couple months.  Not a good answer either.
    The General left this morning.
     This got worse today when the announcement was made that THE EXACT SAME PEOPLE need to be prepared for another sensing session (not the same groups or types of people [ie E1-E4; E5-E7; and LTs] but the EXACT SAME PEOPLE).  That does not bode well for us.  I have a feeling that tonights "sensing session" is going to be more of a "WTF were you thinking??!?!"  Followed by weeks and months of EO and EOF and ROE classes out the ass.  I really can't wait for the ass chewing tonight because it's always fun to get yelled at for something that you didn't do - mass punishment is great!!  But, it is the only way to ensure that the real fuck-ups get whats coming to them when everyone gets lumped together.  I would rather have taken a test and put my name on it so I could show that I wasn't fucked up.  The General did ask me questions, but I knew the answers to mine and once I said something about "my lane" in regards to dealing with our parent Brigade being good to deal with, and he asked what "my lane" was (which was intentional, I WANTED him to ask), I told him what my job was and he immediately understood that I didn't really have anything to do with patrols and all that and never even looked at me again.

End of R&R

When I got off the plane in Kuwait, it really wasnt as ungodly hot as I thought it would be.  It was the middle of the night, but it was also 100 degrees.  It didnt feel like 100.  Not having the sun beating on you helps.  We were whisked away on the cute little Haji busses to somewhere "secret" (specifically instructed not to take pictures - like the enemy doesnt know after all this time where we go to and from right?). 
  I don't think I've ever explained the Haji busses.  Haji busses are like... well, they are like airport shuttle busses... with 2 seats on one side of the aisle and 1 on the other side and then each row has a drop down seat.  Actually its a good idea, rather than either having someone stand in the aisle or have it empty.  The haji busses make use of that space.  So, Haji busses move us around and are also the primary means of transportation on the big FOBs.
  So, the Haji busses take us back to the FOB in Kuwait where we did out outgoing stuff and once there we do our incoming stuff (get a room and then get told where to go next).  Our bags were supposed to be sniffed by dogs, but that didnt happen for one reason or another.
   Once there, my mission was to get a ride back to my FOB in Iraq.  Either said than done, especially with a last name that begins with "Z" and everything is pretty much done alphabetically.  I came into Kuwait with about 6 people from my unit going to the same place (just make a note of that).
   I'm kinda into going by the rules and not jumping the line, so I just follow along with the plan and get things at the same time and the same way as everyone else.  I don't mind. 
   Pretty much it seems like the method there is, 1. put people on a list to go wherever they need to go.  2.  Tell them to come back at x time to see if they made the list for the next plane out.
   They have about 4 formations a day to figure out when and if you are going somewhere and in between those formations times, you get to go out and run around the FOB - within a well contained area.
   I wandered around the FOB area for awhile, but it was hot as hell, and I was tired - but couldnt sleep because I had to be at the next meeting at x time which was only 4 hours away and if I went to bed, I knew I would sleep for a loooong time - and they always threaten you with death (or worse - staying in Iraq for another tour) if you miss any of the seemingly random formation times they put out.  Ok, not death, but they do threaten to get you in trouble.  I suspect its actually too much paperworjk to ACTUALLY get you in trouble, but I don't like test things sometimes.
   So, as it turns out, nothing changed from when I left when I got back and boredom quickly set in.  I hung out in the MWR taking my turn on the computer and on the phone back home.  I really miss home pretty much all the time and every phone call is like a mini oasis.
   I'm sure some people think I call home too much and have too much contact with my family.  I think that's the stupidest thing I've heard in a LONG time.  It seems to be a common misconception that if you only call home once in a while (say, once a week) that your family will somehow miss you less, and worry less.  And there is some merit to the worry argument, but I still think its stupid.  Wait, let me rephrase that.  It would be stupid for me, because thats not how MY family works.  Some people don't tell their families the truth about life here - I do.  Some people say everything is happy go lucky and we are safe as houses all the time - but we aren't and I'm not going to lie about it to make anyone feel better.  Why?  Because unless they are completely ignorant of world events, they know that its not all daisies and roses and happy smiling children.  They know its dangerous.  Why would someone lie to their family for the sake of maintaining a facade that everyone knows isn't real?  I don't know why.  But, I tell my family the truth as I see it to the fullest extent I can and still maintain OPSEC.  So, bad news for anyone reading this who might be hearing other stuff from their spouses or sons or daughters who are here.  If you want ignorance - stop reading  this and go back to Saturday morning cartoons and Ozzie and Harriet and the Donna Reed Show.  If you aren't afraid of a little truth, by all means keep reading.  I can't guarantee excitement (my job is not one that routinely involves any extra danger), but I will guarantee honesty. 
   So, now that I'm done ranting on that... I forgot where I was.  Still in Kuwait I'm sure because I was there forever.  At the first formation, I find out that everyone from my unit got on an earlier flight and left already.  Great.  Now, I'm all by myself.  I think its better that way.  No one to tell me where to go or any of that.  Just me.At some point I made it on a list.  BUT, the list was for a day or two later.  However, there was an open slot on a soon to be outgoing C-130 that I asked if I could have and was given.  Whoo hoo!  As much as I hate to say it, being back on my FOB is better than being in Kuwait.  I have my own stuff, my own time, and I still don't do very much.
   Another Haji-bus ride later, I'm back behind a green AirForce C-130.  The last one I was behind was still running.  Let me say, walking into the rear of a C-130 (where the door is) while its running is somewhat what I would imagine the first few steps leading into hell are like.  About 100 feet back from the plane it gets hot and the wind blows against you like a blow dryer set to high(er).  Then you trudge forward against the blast of the four huge propeller engines towards the black maw.  Each step seems to include a temperature increase of 10 degrees and by the time you are within 10 feet of the drop down door, you feel like the cake you put in the over at 400.  Actually, it feels just like when you open that oven with your face too close and you get that superheated air rushing out at you - except it doesnt stop.  Then you finally get in the plane and get to sit on a a drop down seat that is like a cargo net with bars for supports.  Usually, you are unluckly enough to sit ON a bar that runs right up your ass and all your weight (which is actually YOUR weight plus 50 pounds for your body armor and crap) rests on this very uncomfortable metal bar against your tailbone. 
  So, this is where I was.  On the seat, but I DIDN'T have the bar, just the net - I got lucky this time.  Its hot in the plane.  Probably about 110-115.  But, we know that in a short while (an hour or so) we will be getting off the plane and get back onto solid ground.  So we suck it up, buckle up and get ready to go.
   The crew loads up the pallet of cargo - a pallet is a big metal plate about 15x15 where you put all your cargo that yo uaren't carrying on you - like you duffle bag or whatever.  Personally, I packed super-light to avoid said pallet and the pain in the ass that it is.  The way the pallet works is that everyone puts their stuff down near it and other people come and put it gently on the pallet, then set everyone elses stuff gently on yours.  THEN once that is done, they take more cargo nets and ratchet them down against your bags until they are thoroghly crushed - but stable.
   So, they load up the pallet of everyone's crap (about 50 of us) and then start to close the door.  Apparently it doesnt close all the way, and a little warning light goes off so they open it back up and begin to screw with it.  Once they screw with it for awhile they try to close it again and it makes this wonderful grinding, clicking, screetching noise that would mean your car engine just siezed - if it were a car engine.  But, its not a car engine and so that horrible noise just means they have to open it back up and try again.  After awhile, I get tired of the sweatbox torture and take off my IBAS and uniform top until we get going.  Its safe in Kuwait.  Everyone else on the plane does the same.
    At some point the door closes with an acceptable amount of clanking and grinding and screetching and we're off.
   While we're flying over Baghdad I realize that the GPS picture on the commerical plane we flew into Kuwait on went right over Baghdad.  I wonder why that plane cant just land at Baghdad and send us on our way from there... I will probably never get an answer.
   Finally we land and get off.  The engines are going, so its like walking OUT of hell.  Which is better than walking in.  Then we wait on the Tarmac until another Haji bus comes along.  Everyone else on the FOB is going to stay on THAT FOB, but not me, I still have another trip to take.
   I go to the heliport area (because the next leg of my flight involves a helicopter).  There is no helicopter out to where I'm going until at least the next night - and probably not even then.  I call my unit and they tell me I'm SOL until the next day because there is no patrol in the area or planned in the area for awhile.
   The next day I'm told that there could be a flight at 1000 and that I should sit in the building and wait.  So I do.  And I wait and wait and wait until 3pm.  At which point a bus comes and we drive around here and there trying to catch a helicopter that seems to be everywhere EXCEPT where we are.  Eventually, I got on the helicopter and back to my FOB. 
   FOB sweet FOB.  It aint home and it aint R&R, but its better than nothing.  And everyone is happy to see me.  Especially my Platoon Sergeant who is now grateful that he never decided to become and officer.  He hates my job.  I'm glad he does.  I like my job.  And I like that no one else does.  I HATE it here, no question about that.  And I can't wait to go home, to be with my family - with those that love me and whose support is all I need.  And, hopefully my next job will not include Iraq or Afghanistan, but some cushy job in a plush office overlooking a pretty park or something.  And I will get off work at 2pm everyday - except Fridays (because Fridays are days off in this job).  Oh and every once in a while, I get to take trips to foreign countries (with my wife) for seminars of meetings or some other crap that doesnt involve actual work.  The kids get free babysitting while I'm gone. 
  Does this job exist?  Probably not, but I have a while to search for it.

Back to the sandbox.

Leaving home again was one of the hardest things I've done.  It was actually HARDER to leave the second time than the first.  Why?  Good question.  I've thought about it, and the best I can come up with is that when I left the first time, I left with people I knew, going to a place I didn't and had had about a year or more to prepare for it.  This time, I had two weeks to NOT think about it - and believe I did everything in my power to NOT think about it.  But that meant I didn't have any time to prepare for the actual leaving again.  Which made it harder.  When I left the first time, I had my company with me, who I had worked with for 1 1/2 years and were like another family.  This time, I was alone.  Its a different feeling - being alone.
   I think I handled it ok though.  Not too much crying (I made sure I was dehydrated before leaving the house for just that purpose).  On the plane from Colorado to Texas, I talked to people, so that made it easier.  Everyone has a story to tell.  I don't remember WHAT stories they told - just that one guy was a salesman who travelled around the country and golfed a lot and the lady across the aisle from me was travelling around speaking to public schools about how to best help children who have parents in the military.  The flight was uneventful, but leaving home sucked.
   Once in Texas, the real wait began.  The process to get back to the desert is supposed to similar to the process going home, but it doesnt always work that way.  When I arrived at the terminal, there were already a bunch of other Soldiers waiting to go back - their plane from the day before was late or something and a lot of people had to sleep in hotels.
    Anyway, so, eventually, the Army people start manifesting the Soldiers who had to stay overnight first and then they start on us.  I stood in line with a bunch of people I didn't know, snaking my way through the little Tensi-Barriers back and forth over and over again until finally I was four people from the front (this took about two hours).  Then they said the first plane was full and that we could take a ten minute smoke break while they set everything up for the next flight - NOTE: Regular airlines don't have this problem which is why the Army should stick to killing people, not trying to fly them around - besides, Stewardessess handing out peanuts to terrorists just wouldnt get the job done - bottom line: everyone needs to stay in their lane. END OF NOTE.  About half and hour after the ten minute break ended, they started manifesting the next flight, due to leave Texas in a few hours - plenty of time to grab a bite of food, get through security and lounge around for a few.
  Security at airports is fun and exciting.  First you get in line - go figure - and then you have to put your stuff through the xray machine which apparently can't see through stuff very well because I have to take most of the stuff out of my bag and put it into a separate box to go through.  Lovely.  Oh, my boots have to go through the xray machine also - (my thanks to the shoe bomber guy for that one).  Once on the other side of the security center I repack my carry-on and find my gate.
   Oddly enough, after the appropriate amount of time, I got onto the airplane and found my seat and got all settled in.  The flight wasn't full, so no one sat directly next to me, but skipped a seat - good stuff.  The Warrent Officer who sat by me had worked some some of the people from my old company during their first deployment.  So, we had a nice conversation about all of that stuff.  During our conversation the lights went off in the plane and the A/C went out - not too worrisome because I don't know anything about planes - maybe it's normal and I just never noticed before.  An hour and a half later.  The power is still out and they say we should get off the plane - now THAT is not normal - I know that.  But, still not worried.  Someone says its something about not being able to charge the power from the somethingerother and I don't really care because the plane has been sitting in the Texas sun for 2 hours without AC and is rather warm.
    Back in the terminal we wait to get the plane fixed until someone comes out and says we need to get our bags off the plane.  Great, the plane is not fixed.  By this time, I have a splitting headache from lack of water (remember the whole dehydration thing - I was counting on plane food and water to recover).  I follow along with the crowd as we go out of the terminal and wait for busses to go to a hotel "nearby."  Its about midnight.
   The busses arrive and we pack them full to capacity and probably more than capacity but I'm told its ok to stand in the aisle and anywhere else because the hotel is "nearby."  I know that "Everything is Bigger in Texas," and that must include sense of distance, because when the bus pulls onto the interstate I know that "Texas nearby" is NOT equal to "Colorado nearby."  However long later we pull up to the hotel and are told that we will each get a room and that we need to catch the shuttle bus BACK to the airport at 0730.
   The hotel is nice, has a pool and everything, but by the time I get my room its about 2am - and besides, I don't have my swim trunks with me.  I call home and tell my wife the story of the day. 
   When I first got in the room, it was hot - I immediately went over and cranked the AC up.  It seemed to work alright.  After awhile, it wasnt getting cooler, but I wasn't concerned yet.  I called home and then took a cool shower and stood in front of the AC to cool off.  That helped a little.
   When I laid down on the bed, it was way too damned hot to sleep, so I pulled the little lounge chair over in front of the AC and set up a little bed for myself there.  It worked, I fell asleep.  Sometime in the night, I woke up and laid down in the real bed. 
   Thankfully, I had given my wife the number for the hotel and she called to wake me up at 0630.  I had asked the front desk for a Wake Up call, but it never came.  Yeah, my wife actually keeps me on schedule more than anyone else - even in the desert.
   After getting up I grabbed a little breakfast from the hotel and back on the bus I went.  For the "short" ride to the airport and once again through security.
   And then the wait - our first scheduled boarding time was 1200.  Let me just say that the boarding passes they gave us were pretty funny, considering the situation.  Mine was orange with #55 on it - but the funny part was the slogan, "When you fly ATA - you're on vacation!"  HAHAHAHA.  Some vacation.
   When the plane wasn't ready for us at 1200, we were told to try again at 1700.  And they let us go get some food by using our boarding passes as meal-tickets.  Our options were Popeyes Chicken and McDonalds - I chose the chicken initially, but when I saw the line, I went to McD.  I'm not a real big fan of McD, but I suppose a Big Mac once a year won't hurt me - especially if I'm not paying for it. 
   While we're waiting, another group of R&R folks gets to the terminal and gets manifested for a flight.  As you'll see later, they actually left BEFORE we did!  In that group was my old company commander and some of my old troops from my other company.  It was nice to catch up - especially when they said (the troops, not the commander), that the guy who took my job is making me look better every day.
   At 1700 we boarded the plane and sat down.  The pilot joked about the power issue the plane had earlier and everyone laughed.  Everything was all good until the pilot started doing something (preflight checks is my guess), and the power and AC went out again.  Everyone groaned and laughed and wanted to get off the plane.  Someone suggested that the in-flight movie was "Final Destination" and someone else had a tray table that wouldn't stay upright.  Bad omens all around.  Eventually it was back off the plane.
    2000 - another try at the plane.  Everyone is much less jovial and the feeling is one of "what will go wrong next."  This time we actually start taxiing towards the runway.  Then, we turn around.  Great - what this time?  Turns out that some E-7 in the back isn't feeling well, hyperventilating, panic attack, whatever and so they are getting him off the plane.  Is that all it takes?  Sheesh, I could do that.  Back at the terminal we let him off and taxi away again before doing another lap around the nice grass and going BACK again to the terminal.  By now, I'm ready to go to sleep and forget about everything for awhile.
   Off the plane.  No explanation or anything.
   2200 ish - time to get back on the plane again - I don't think I've ever been off and on one plane more often than this one.  The explanation for the last delay was the fact that its unsafe to fly with fuel spewing from the wings.  Go figure.  Someone had filled the wings the night before and when it sat in the sun, it expanded and so when we started moving around it blew out some sort of valve and thats why we had to get off the last time.  They assured us it was safe - this time. 
   Our flight across the ocean was uneventful.  Whatever movie they had wasn't good enough to keep me awake and neither was the first meal - which I slept through.
    We landed in Germany and were immediately bussed away from the actual terminal (with civilians) and to some itty bitty little place.  Boring.  Took pictures.  Wanted to get back on the plane.  Germany was very pretty from the air and actually not too bad on the ground.  But the terminal/cell they let us into was crappy.
   Back on the plane to Kuwait.  Also uneventful.  When we landed it was about 2300 local time and 100 degrees.  Damn.  The daytime was going to suck.

R&R

R&R came and went like I'm sure it does for everyone - comes slow and goes fast - I'm sure I'm not alone in that boat.  I am however grateful that I got mine when I did so that I could be home for my anniversary of my marriage to my beautiful wife who has put up with too much during the last 7 months.  And continues to do so - generally without complaint.
    R&R consists generally of going from point A (say Iraq) to point B (somewhere with a big airfield in Iraq) to point C (somewhere is Kuwait where its hotter than hell and there is nothing to do) to point D (a refueling point between C and E - sometimes Ireland [good], sometimes Germany [not as good]), to point E (one of the hub cities) to point F (home city - or nearest city with an airport).
   Then you get your 15 days of Rest and Relaxation to do with what you will.  Personally, I chose to spend it all with my family, doing whatever family stuff we wanted - and I wouldn't trade it for anything.  We went to the pool, went to semi-pro baseball games [ok, not really semi-pro, but my daughter does play very well], went camping in the rain, and watched the fireworks show that was set up for our anniversary (how nice it is every year!).  At the house, we lounged around, watched movies and TV (not really watching TV or the movies, but just cuddling and being close - refilling up on each other), we laid on the hammock outside and watched as a storm rolled over the mountain and settled on us and getting us pretty wet before coming inside.  We watched the lightning in the storm dance between the clouds and occasionaly find the ground.
   One of my favorite times on leave was actually the last full day I was home (I loved every minute being home, but this one sticks out), we had baseball pictures in the morning, and then the rest of the day we spent at home, just being together.  That night, we watched movies back to back to back until we fell asleep on the couch together.  During the night, I got up and put in a new movie (at about 3am) because the TV was still on.  I put in Moulin Rouge, a romantic musical.  Although we slept through the whole thing, I remember hearing the music and movie in the background of my dreams, of holding my wife close and whispering the words to the songs in her ear as we slept.  I loved that time of peacefullness and tranquility - that all that existed at the moment was us.
    Another reason I put in movie after movie was to add that many more things that had to be done before I could leave the next morning.  I know it doesnt make much sense, but to have something, ANYTHING, between me and that time of getting on the plane was worth it.  It may not have added any more hours to my R&R, but it did add events - I guess it would be somehwhat akin to not being able to change the length of a river, but of just increasing the volume of water that flows in it.  Making the most of what we had.
    I cherish every second I had home.  And although being deployed to this wasteland sucks - maybe it helps me to appreciate being home that much more.  Not that I ever take my wife and family for granted, but a cool rain is that much cooler after a hot summer day.
    I only hope I can maintain that razor-sharp edge of absolute thankfullness for my wife that she so richly deserves - especially after I get home and get settled back in.  If we can make the most of every day together (whether its R&R in a deployment or lunch while in garrison), then we have succeeded in this life.

Toe in the water

With my toe in the water, I test the temperature of the ocean and decide whether to dive in, or stay on shore.

DAY 119 / MAR 28

DAY 119 / Mar 28

 

Apparently not a day goes by that I can't talk about this whole Afghan thing that I find so interesting.   The bad news is that this has become a no-win situation for the United States and the Western world in general.  If Afghan caves in and releases this Ex-Muslim, the Arab world views the new Afghanistan as nothing but a puppet government for the United States (and rightly so – we pulled the strings on their president and got what we wanted).   If they don't and eventually execute the Ex-Muslim, the whole point of the United States being in Afghanistan (and Iraq for that matter) go down the drain because we failed in bringing about a free nation.   We just overthrew one tyrannical religious zealot country and installed another.  I think this just goes to show – you can lead a horse to water (hell, you can even throw the damned thing IN the water), but you can't make it drink.   Maybe some of the religious zealot countries need to die of dehydration instead of us giving them the IV.

 

Oh and heres the Ex-Muslim story update.  They released him and he disappeared.   Hmm, I wonder what happened to him?

 

Now, I'm sure that everyone thinks I'm anti-Muslim, I'm not… I'm anti-religious fanatical.  But, heres another Muslim story I ran across recently – and no, I don't just go looking for them.  It just seems like that.  I suppose I could talk about the fundamentalist Christians who let their kids die by not taking them to doctors because they are waiting for God to heal their kids.   Fanatics in every group.  Or is it all one group, and they just don't see it?

 

But, anyway, here's my next "Crazy Fanatic" story.

 

In India recently, a Muslim man said the magic "divorce (taliq)" word three times in his sleep and now, the religious leaders are saying that him and his wife must separate!   Ok, see?  Another crazy religious thing.  The guy was ASLEEP.  Damn.  And to make it worse, its not like they can just go and get remarried – oh, no, that would be too easy – they have to wait 100 days AND the wife has to marry someone else first and stay with him for a night and then that new husband has to divorce her also.   THEN she can remarry her actual husband of 11 years with whom she has 3 kids.  Yeah, so, another crazy ass religious story.   Sorry.  They just keep coming up.

 

So, for the local news:

 

It had been warming up – it was in the 80s-90s earlier this week.  Today it rained.   All that nice baby powder sand turned back to mud.  Good thing I didn't clean it all off my boots from the last time yet.  All quiet here, no mortars or anything for 50 days and no blackouts for 32.

 

I read that the Department of Defense has now said that the Shiite militias are a greater threat to us than the insurgents.   Hmmm, in that case, I think it may be time to pack it up and head home.  If the insurgency isn't the problem anymore, but the local Iraqi militias area – doesn't that mean that the whole civil war we are ignoring is the real problem?   And if it is, should we really be involved in it?  This country will never be stable enough to rebuild a formidable army again for many decades – it will no longer be a military threat to the US.   If the people want something other than what we are offering, can we really make them take it and make it work?  Remember the whole thing about the horse?   It applies here also.

DAY 117 / MAR 26

DAY 117 / MAR 26

 

Ok, back to Afghanistan.  It appears that the Christian Ex-Muslim case has brought to a head the differences between "Western" culture and Muslim culture in a way that no war or political negotiations have.   The President of Afghanistan, Karzai, is caught between a rock and a hard place that is somewhat symbolic of the plight that faces any Arab/Muslim nation that desires a place in the more "civilized" world.   On one hand, under the Shiara law in Afghanistan, the Ex-Muslim should be sentenced to death.  On the other, the country is currently supported by and secured by a nation (the United States) that has brought freedom of religion to it by getting it to agree to follow the Universal Declaration of Human Rights in its constitution.  As it turns out, they can't have both.   Karzai's decision at this time will directly impact whether Afghanistan continues to be supported by us, or not.  If he chooses to release this Ex-Muslim, I'm sure we will continue to support his government.   If he chooses to let the trial continue and the EM is executed, I would expect an outcry from the "western" world and the possible hasty removal of support, including Soldiers, from that country.   I think its interesting that this has become what it has – even the Pope weighed in to influence Karzai to stop the trial.  But more than one of the religious leaders on the ground in Afghanistan seem adamant about killing this EM, one saying, "We don't care if the West drops its support for us. God will look after Afghanistan."

            Maybe we should test his theory.

DAY 116 / MAR 25

DAY 116 / MAR 25

 

            With the weather having warmed, all of the moisture has evaporated into the air and the ground is dry.   The sand is more of just a thick layer of dust.  The density and texture is that of baby powder or powdered sugar.   It is easily kicked up in the air and blows around forever.  Everything gets a nice layer of dust on a daily basis and no amount of canned air keep the electronics clean.

 

            The bugs are different here than back home.  The ants are still ants, and the mosquitoes are still mosquitoes, but they have slight oddities to them.   All of the walking critters seem to have longer legs than those back home, the ants look like they are "lifted."  The flying things are slower and bigger and more aggressive.   I still haven't seen any of the famed "Camel Spiders" or anything that was much bigger than normal – and with any luck, I never will.

DAY 113 / MAR 22

Day 113 / Mar 22

 

The other day, anywhere between 100-200 insurgents attack a jail in the town of Muqdadiyah.  Their attack was well coordinated and had a purpose behind it – to free the insurgents held in the jail.   The level of planning and execution was very high, especially for a group of people who we keep saying can't do things like this.  They managed to free about 30 prisoners and suffered only light casualties and even killed more Iraqi police than they lost themselves.   The Iraqi police ran out of ammo.  The insurgents set up car bombs to block any incoming assistance and escaped relatively unharmed.  

 

Then a couple days later, they attempted another attack on a jail near Baghdad.  This time they weren't so successful.   The attackers failed to break anyone out of the jail and the Iraqis actually captured about 50 of the bad guys.

 

Clearly, the insurgents are not only acting in very small groups of 5-10 and have the capability to mass forces over 100.   This doesn't seem like the scattered groups of insurgents that we keep hearing that we are fighting.  These people are becoming actual fighters with command and control, planning, and the ability to carry out sophisticated attacks.

 

However, all was still quiet here, so I can't complain.

DAY 112 / MAR 21

DAY 112 / MAR 21

 

Please note: When I refer to a Soldier as a "he" I really mean he or she – just so everyone understands that I'm not making any disparaging remarks about female Soldiers.

 

I have been away from home for 112 days.  I have learned that it is harder for the families

back home to live with this time that their Soldiers are away from home than it is for the Soldier.  Yes, the Soldiers suffers physical hardship, danger, loneliness and endless drudgery, but it is truly their families that suffer worse.   The families suffer physical hardship: doing the work of two alone; endless stress from the usual day to day events – school programs, conferences, homework,   every day, without reprieve.  They suffer the loneliness like the Soldier does, but their suffering is compounded by the suffering of their children and neighbors, which they also bear on their shoulders.

 

            The Soldier is in constant danger from mortars, bullets, bombs, terrorists, and a portion of the "civilian" population that works on their base during the day, and launches attacks at night.   He knows when mortars are falling, or bullets flying and only fears them at that time.

            The Family is worse off in that they KNOW their Soldier is in danger, but have no real idea of how dangerous it is at any given time.   The IDEA of someone they love being in danger of mortars, bullets, bombs, etc is worse than the actual reality of them.

            The Soldier is lonely, he misses his family, his wife and children, and his home everyday, but can always remember them as they were when he left.   Time stops for a deployed Soldier – every day is like the last and tomorrow will be the same as today (for the most part).  There are no weekends, no breaks, and no changes.

            The Family misses its Soldier, but time doesn't stop for them.   Every day life goes on, the kids go to school, get report cards, go to classes, etc etc etc – time doesn't stop for them, life goes on with the family.  Living with the time is worse than having it stand still.   The concept of how long their Soldier has been gone weighs greater on them than it does the Soldier who views his world in a stasis.

            The Family must deal with other families going through the same extreme level of stress and must also deal with the equally frustrating fact that NOT everyone else is going through it!   Especially when OTHER families get their Soldiers back!  Regardless of whether or not THAT Soldier has been gone a year, the family that doesn't have their Soldier harbors a quiet jealous hatred for the family that does.

 

There are many more reasons why Families have it worse, and you don't even have to look very hard for them.

 

 

 

***

 

All in all a quiet day.  Nothing happened.  Nothing blew up.   Another success.

           

DAY 111 / MAR 20

DAY 111 / MAR 20

 

            Ok, maybe I'm wrong, but, I thought we went into Afghanistan to get rid of the Taliban because of their involvement in the 9/11 attacks and to stop their oppressive restrictions on women and religion and all that.   And I thought we won and they had free elections and women could run around with their faces showing, etc, etc, etc.   And, in fact, we are STILL there hunting down terrorists, right?   I know I saw something about us having a bunch of Soldiers still in that country.  Ok, with that said – I read this today…

 

http://www.jamaica-gleaner.com/gleaner/20060320/int/int4.html

 

AFGHANISTAN: Afghan faces death for becoming a Christian

 

This story says that this guy converted from Islam to Christianity 16 years ago.  Well, I guess it is still illegal in Afghanistan (where we have made all these great strides towards freedom and all that) to convert away from Islam.   The punishment for doing so is death.  So, really, it appears that all we have done is stop one form of oppression in that country and are now helping to support another form – where is the sense in that?   I don't care that the guy converted to Christianity – that's not the point.  The point is that this guy couldn't convert FROM Islam at all or he was punishable by death.   In fact, in the article, the judge said, "We are not against any particular religion in the world…" which really translates to "We are against every other religion in the world."   The defendant couldn't convert to Judaism, Catholicism, Hindu, Buddhist, Atheist, Wiccan, Pagan, or anything without being punished with death.  I see that we really did a lot of good there.   I can't say that I would be very proud of our accomplishments there if things like this are still acceptable.

 

***

 

I was awoke from my beauty sleep early this morning by the call to get together a patrol to go somewhere and fix something, again.   Luckily, I didn't have to actually go, I just had to put it all together – which I did.  Then, later on, I went to Brigade to learn some things about my new and upcoming job.   As it turns out, its mostly an OJT kinda job because learning all I would have to learn is like trying to drink a swimming pool with a spoon.

 

Back home, the kids had their first snow day off of school.  Its kind of ironic that it comes on the first day of Spring.

DAY 110 / MAR 19

DAY 110 / MAR 19

 

Still quiet here.  Its been 41 days since the last mortars fell here and 23 days since the last blackout.   I hope it continues to stay quiet.

 

Things are changing here; at least they are for me.  During this last week, I've learned that I will be moving on from where I am now.   I will be moving to another Battalion on another FOB near Ad-Dawr within the next month or so.  The potential for moving has been out there all along (because nothing ever stays the same in the Army) but I had kind of hoped that I would have a little bit longer to prepare the way.  

 

The unit I'm going to is nothing like where I am and the next job I have will be nothing like what I do now.  I have been trying to get some information from the guys there now and its slowly starting to trickle in, but the things I don't know by far outweigh the things I do.  The big things aren't going to an issue – I know that I will still redeploy back home at the same time as the rest of the Brigade because the unit I'm in is still in the Brigade (although it is detached from the Brigade and is attached to another Division).

 

I'm still trying to get info on the recent enemy activity in the area, but because its out of our Brigade's area of operations, it takes a little longer to get.   I do know, from some things my wife discovered and sent me, that the area I'm heading into is the same area where Saddaam was captured in 2003.  As for its current situation – I don't know.

 

Back home, the gas prices are still going up despite all the oil we are supposedly stealing here.  None of my cars has less than eight cylinders.   As it turns out, my wife and I loaned a nice, reliable four-cylinder Mazda to my brother for a couple months – that was about 2 ½  years ago.   And, we're still trying to get it back – or have him buy it.  The car is worth well over $15k, but just to be done with the deal, we'd take $3k.   The problem comes in the fact that my brother left the car with his girlfriend in Florida who is subsequently NOT his girlfriend and in fact, has ANOTHER boyfriend.   Convincing him to go get it hasn't been easy although we have been promised numerous times that he will be going to get it soon, or that they will start paying for it soon, or that she will be bringing it up soon.   Moral of the story is: don't loan stuff to your family.

Day 105 / Mar 14

Day 105 / Mar 14

            It was a mostly quiet day, nothing big going on.

Something happened down the street (outside the FOB).  It was a very fast series of decent sized explosions one right after another.  My first thought was that it was mortars landing someone outside the wire, but in order to have been mortars, there would have had to have been at least 6 mortar tube firing all about the same time – which is highly unlikely.   I suspect that on the Iraqi FOB down the street, someone did something stupid with a box of explosives, grenades maybe and set them all off at about the same time – or set one off and caused a series of secondary explosions.

Day 104 / Mar 13

Day 104 / Mar 13

 

As it turns out, we were apparently too hard on the poor signal people we played football with and their mommy (Commander) said they couldn't play with us anymore.   Wah.  So, if something is dangerous and could get people hurt, we can't do it?  Then why the hell are we here!?   Lets all go home!  I mean, it IS dangerous here, and people DO get hurt, so clearly we must go now.

 

Ok, so, I've had some dolls sitting around that I couldn't give to Iraqi children because its against the rules.   Luckily, I have just found someone willing to launch them from the turret of our trucks as they fly through the villages.  Whoo hoo!  But, it's a secret and they probably can't do it very often.  So don't tell anyone.

 

Another quiet day means no bombs and no explosions and no one died (here, at least).  So, I can't ask for much more than that, can I?   Well, I suppose I could hope for a full shower tomorrow.  My one this morning was really only a ¾ shower because during the "rinse" phase, the power went out.   No power means no water pump which means, of course, no water.  I guess it could have been worse, it could have happened during the shampoo phase… that would have been ugly.   So, if the worse thing going on is an intermittent power problem… I suppose I can live with that. 

Day 103 / Mar 12

Day 103 /  Mar 12

 

Today we reached a total of 34 days without a mortar attack (a new ongoing record), and 16 days without a blackout (tied for the old record).

 

We also managed to play a short game of football with the other signal platoon on the FOB.  They won, but it was close.   They had been practicing and actually had a plan – we just kinda went out and hoped for the best.  Next time, we will be ready.

Day 102 / Mar 11

DAY 102 / MAR 11

 

Weapons of peace.  Is there such a thing?  Someone said, "if you want peace, prepare for war," and he was right.   But it is not the peaceful aspect of an Army that provides peace, it is the willingness and ability to do great violence and harm that deters others from doing things to bring it upon themselves.   That is where we have gone wrong.  The United States government has taken an Army (actually, the whole military) and tried to play it on both sides of the fence.   We go kick ass - which we do very well and there is virtually no one who can oppose us in a conventional war; then we try to be all goody-goody nice guy and make things all better.   That's bullshit.  Armies don't keep peace, the whole purpose of an Army is to destroy, not to build.  The government that invokes the power of their military does it for one purpose, to destroy the enemy.  Not help them, not rebuild their cities.  We bomb the hell out of them, kill them – and their families is they happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and we do it without remorse for the "innocent" civilians and soldiers who may not have wanted to fight.   I'm sorry, but that is the purpose of the military.  We are not, contrary to the popular opinion of the government, peacekeepers.   The UN has "Peacekeepers," use them.  We are hurting the military might of our country by using the military as anything but what it is – a deadly fighting force.   You can't build a house with a sword.

 

Am I rambling?  Maybe.  But, I know that somewhere, deep within all of the rantings is a grain of truth.   The bottom line is, we should be using the military to kill people and destroy stuff that needs to be killed and destroyed.  Then, we should take our military and go home until the next guy needs to be killed or destroyed.   We don't go to help people, we go to kill them.  We fought WWII to stop the Germans from taking over the world.   We didn't do it by trying to play nice, we did it by carpet bombing their cities and using the military to kill and destroy them.  Did we stick around for a bit to rebuild?   Sure, we did.  But, we didn't have to.  Our military philosophy should be to go in, eliminate the threat to us, and leave.   If the world, or even the US wants to rebuild the country we just rolled over, then send in the right people to do it.  If that country attacks the people there to help, the UN, the engineers, the volunteers, too bad for them – those do-gooders will leave and the country will either recover on its own under decent leadership or it won't.   Either way, we protected ourselves.  Take it for what its worth.

 

 

On another note, it's a bit odd the things you can get used to and accept if they happen enough and you have absolutely no control over it.  Our office is right next to our helipad where helicopters of all shapes and sizes (Apaches, Blackhawk, Chinooks, Kiowas) land and take off, usually at night.   Here I am, yelling into the phone to be heard by my wife who is back home at a parade where she is also yelling into the phone to be heard.  But, for her its unusual to be yelling into a phone, for me, its commonplace.  We grow to accept the things we deal with day in and day out and eventually even the craziest things become routine.   Take for instance the generator that sits outside my CHU – it provides the whole area (our pad, the offices, etc) with power – so it makes a lot of noise.   Its somewhat like sleeping by a running semi-truck.  The odd thing is that I've gotten used to it, my roommate and I really don't talk much in the room, because we almost have to yell, but we have accepted that and its no big deal.   The other odd thing is that when its NOT going in the middle of the night, I wake up and wonder whats wrong.  Its not that the lights go out, because there are none on.   Its just the sound and vibration that I've become accustomed to.  When they go away, it triggers something inside that says something is not as it usually is.   It must be a instinctive survival reflex that kept our cave dwelling forefathers safe from critters coming into their caves, or bears, waking up from hibernation and coming out.