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.