DAY 11 / DEC 9

DAY 11 DEC 9
Woke up at 0600 and looked over the room to the BN XO and saw that he was still racked out, so I rightly guessed that the meeting was either cancelled or not very important. I went back to sleep.
We woke up at 0700 and went to breakfast at the DFAC (took the bus again) and came back in time to be told that there was another meeting at 0900 to tell us that they didn’t know when we were leaving but that we would have another meeting to tell us that information later on.
0900 came around and the meeting went as expected. No new news, just that we would like up again about 1300 for another meeting.
We took off to hang out on the LSA again, with nothing else to do, we wandered around, looking at this and that for the second or third time.
The day drug by and we had lunch and came back to the PPC and waited for the next meeting.
At 1300 we had a meeting and were told that at the 1700 meeting we would definitely know something – maybe.
Often times I wonder whether or not the Iraqi people want us here. Do they understand what we are doing and why we are doing it? I think that some do, but most are just happy to take our high paying (in their opinion) jobs and go on their merry way. I haven’t actually asked, because none that I have run into seem quite intelligent enough to hold on a conversation about politics or anything like that. I’m sure that I’m just not seeing the people for who they are, but only for what my prejudices have told me they are. I will, at some point, try to talk to some, to see if they understand what we are doing, and why its important and whether they really want it or not. I know why I’m here, I just wonder whether they do. Sometimes I feel like its like trying to rescue an injured wolf in a trap that doesn’t understand that you are trying to help and keeps nipping at you, even as you try to free it.
At the 1700 meeting, we learned that we actually DID have some helicopters coming to get us that night and that our bag drop was at 1900. We quickly hopped the bus to the DFAC and ate and came back so we could get our bags out to the pad quick-like. We ended up having our bags on the pad about an hour before 1900, but after that we just hung out there and waited for the busses to come. There was a unit that was to go before us, and so they loaded up on the first busses. We waited until about 2000 for our busses, but they finally came and we finally got on – another step forward to getting to where we were going. All dressed up in IBAS and feeling like turtles we crushed onto the bus and drove around the airfield to our stopping point.
We were dropped off at the helicopter waiting point and were told that our guide had made a small error and that our helicopters would not be coming until two hours after we were told they would. Not surprised, we resigned ourselves to two hours of waiting.
- Another Side Note –
I just wanted to make a quick comment that I should really write to Sony about their new Playstation Portable (PSP), which I bought before coming out here – much to the chagrin of my wife, who of course didn’t seem put out in the least by it. The PSP has been, by far, hands down, the best investment for portable entertainment, ever. I carry mine around in my pocket and it comes in handy for those times when you get an unexpected two hours of nothing to do – and it works in the dark (unlike a book).
-End of Side Note-
So we played PSP for about two hours. We played against each other (me and some other people there smart enough to have one) and it made the time go by quickly and also made us forget the cold for the time we were playing.
Around the time that we were supposed to go, a couple of Chinook helicopters fly under, tossing up dust, but we were grateful that our flight actually came on time. We were grateful that is, until they taxied up to our area and kept on taxiing, right into a hanger or somewhere out of sight.
At some point during our wait, another three busses of people rolled up and offloaded their bags. They apparently had a flight also – and we were concerned that maybe they thought they were getting our flight, and so we almost had to beat them down. But we didn’t, they stayed far enough away that violence never became an issue.
After waiting for about three hours, someone came up and told our coordination guy that the helicopters had been delayed for about an hour and fifteen minutes. But when didn’t know when that hour and fifteen minutes started – right then, or an hour and fifteen minutes ago when they began being late. Once again we began waiting. A couple of Blackhawks fly by, and some Apaches, and even a Chinook or two made promising gestures before moving away. One Chinook even landed, unloaded a bunch of troops and loaded up about 6 journalist type people and took off again.
At some point, a pair of F-16 fighter jets took off. They made a roaring like no other as the raced down the runway with full afterburners blazing in the pitch black. All we could see what a dim outline of a small fighter and a blue blaze of fire out the back like a huge oversized butane lighter. The power was awesome and everyone was impressed. But definitely not worth waiting three hours for.
Finally, our birds arrived and disgorged their passengers. This is about midnight or so. We had to pick up our bags (three each and not light) and carried them the 100 meters of so to the back of the birds and used the chain system to get them loaded. As it turns out, not everyone thought they needed to be in the chain. I found out later that our Brigade S-6 had got on the bird first, with a bag, and sat down in a chain and didn’t move from it – even when everyone else helped load the bags down the center aisle of the helicopter.
As we loaded, I noticed that the prop wash was cold, and the engine exhaust hot but if you found a happy medium you got to be both hot and cold for alternating short periods of time.
Finally, the bags were loaded and all crammed ourselves like sardines along the sides and into cloth, fold-down seats. There was no way to get to the seatbelts, nor any need, we couldn’t move one bit and the bags stacked up to the ceiling and were inches from our faces. When everyone was loaded, the helicopter pulled up and we were off.
Or so we thought. Seconds later the guy next to me tapped me on the shoulder and yelled that the bird was going to land and we were to get off, but not go far. This concerned me, and I began to think of all the things that could be wrong that we were landing so quickly after taking off. I came to the conclusion that we had loaded the bird lopsided and the pilot wanted to reload it so it flew better. I was wrong.
The bird landed and we all piled off and moved off the concrete pad we had landed on. Standing in the cold rotor wash, we watched through the darkness as the crew got out and appeared to fuel up the helicopter. Some people thought they were checking on some problem with the engine, but to me it looked like a simple refueling operation. 10 minutes later, we were allowed to get back into sardine formation and we took off.
This Chinook was outfitted a little bit differently than the one I had ridden on at Fort Lewis. On this one, the rear door didn’t close all the way, but stayed at the perfect angle for the rear crew member to sit at an M-240 machine gun and watch the ground for bad guys. It was different, but not surprising.
I watched as much as I could as the bird lifted into the sky and the lights faded away into darkness. I closed my eyes, just for a second, to rest them – and I couldn’t really see anything anyway. I knew that I would open them soon enough and be able to experience the descent and landing properly. Once again, I was wrong.
Only a few seconds after closing my eyes, I felt a tap on my shoulder and noticed that the people closest to the rear door were already out. Still in a state of semi-sleep and confusion, I got up and walked out the door and stepped onto a gravel surface. We had finally arrived on Warhorse. It was very dark.
We went to work unloading the bags far enough away from the bird. Once the helicopter was unburdened by us and our crap, it popped off the ground like a model rocket and swept into the sky, flying away before we realized it. Well, we DID realize it; it blew small rocks all around and pelted us with them.
We carried the heavy bags to another area and loaded them into a 5-ton truck to move onto the FOB. Once again we chained up and got half the bags onto the truck. About half of our group walked into the FOB to unload the truck while the rest of us waited for it to return and get the rest of the bags. We were all exhausted and tired and our IBAS made our shoulders throb. But no one complained. Everyone was relieved to finally be on the ground at our destination. Most of us would be staying on Warhorse, but a few were going to other places, like Gabe.
After loading up the second truck, we walked onto the FOB and into a heated tent. We snatched up cots and searched through the dark for our bags. Once all the bags were claimed, I had no energy left and rolled out my sleeping bag on a cot and fell asleep.
Before crashing, I noticed that Warhorse seemed to be made mostly of hesco barriers (wire mesh boxes with a cloth lining, filled with dirt or rocks), and a few concrete barriers around the important stuff (like the phone center and MWR center). At night, the FOB looked pretty dismal. I hoped it would look better in the morning.