IRR Soldier

My Blog

2006-11-02T00:38:00.001-05:00

This is a blog I kept while I was in Iraq. I got back to the states in the middle of 2005. I've not really had any desire to post anything or talk about anything since I've been back nor have I felt like taking it down. I guess I'll leave it up for a while and see if anyone reads it. I do get e-mails from time to time mostly from people who have loved ones over there. Please feel free to read through it to get a little feel of what it was like where I was. There is also a link to a photo web site if you'd like to see some of my pictures. Leave a comment if you don't mind so I can see if anyone is really reading this.

Update

2005-11-12T15:29:00.000-05:00

Alright race fans, I'm back. My wife and I just got back from a cruise to Catalina Island and Ensenada Mexico. It was great, the first cruise we've ever been on. My Mom flew out to stay with our kids while we were gone. So here's the update on how I got out of the Army.

We landed in Louisiana a few days before Hurricane Rita hit. The knuckleheads that were outprocessing us decided not to make any decisions until right before the Hurricane hit. It was like they've never even heard of hurricanes in Louisiana before. So the evening the Hurricane was supposed to hit, right after they shut down all the airports, they evacuated Fort Polk. Well they evacuated everyone that didn't need an airplane. That left about 20 of us. We were living in a building on the top of a hill right until they all left. For some reason they thought it would be a much better idea to move us all into a metal building at the very bottom of a big hill. I assume it was so all the bodies could be easily found if we were all killed, or if it flooded we would be sure to wash away and then they wouldn't have to deal with us at all. When we asked about food and water they said, "Here's a pallet of MRE's and water, have fun." And then they left. We had no electricity, no communications, nothing. We just sat in the wind and rain and pitch black darkness and sweated our patooties off waiting to either be killed or for the storm to pass. Eventually it passed. While all of this was happening they had the whole Brigade except the out of state guys like me on pass. We had to stay in the stupid hurricane barracks and pine our lives away waiting for them to make up a new plan to outprocess while they were all at home with their families. They would put everyone on pass until the next Monday and they were supposed to come up with a plan so we could start outprocessing on that Monday. Instead they didn't do anything and then everyone would report back late Sunday night and form up in formation early Monday morning. Then the "Leadership" would come out and say something like, "Well, we have too many people here to outprocess so we'll put you all on pass again until next Monday. This happened twice and they still hadn't come up with a plan. So this whole time we would just sit there and wait for the next Monday to come to see if we could outprocess. Then the next Monday would come and we would do it all again. Finally they got a plan and said they would outprocess all the local guys so they could get home first and then they would take care of anyone who wasn't actually part of the Brigade like the IRR guys. Mind you these were the guys that had been on pass at their houses with their families for almost three weeks. We were the guys that were sitting with no electricity swatting mosquitoes and not seeing our families. At this point we had had it. One of the guys called his congressman and I call St. Louis and talked to the people that had recalled us. I asked them if we could go somewhere else to outprocess and they said no. It turns out that the IRR recall was such a failure that they actually closed down all the processing sites. After people started hearing that they didn't do anything to you if you didn't show up they decided to just stop the whole thing. Well, they couldn't do anything for us but somehow or another the Pentagon caught wind of it and called that evening. The instructions were very specific. "Take all the IRR guys and outprocess them tomorrow morning no questions asked!" Low and behold we were outprocessed and home in about three days. Bada Boom Bada Bing.

So there it is in a nut shell. I'll finish the game show in a few days. Life is getting back to normal around here and I'm looking forward to living a normal life again.

I'm Home

2005-10-09T19:10:00.000-05:00

I'm home. It took a lot longer than I had anticipated but it's finally here. One war, one hurricane and a number of life threatening situations behind me and I'm finally here. I've got a pretty interesting story to tell about how I was stranded and abandoned by the Army during Hurricane Rita and spent a number of days sitting in a pitch dark room swatting mosquitoes eating MREs and wishing I was back in Iraq. Give me a few days to get reacquainted with my family and I'll tell you all about it. I'll also finish up the lightning round. I never figured it would take this long but I've been without power or a computer for the last few weeks. Thanks for hanging in there and I promise I'll finish it up in the next few days

Almost Home

2005-09-19T08:09:00.000-05:00

Right now I'm sitting at a computer in Kuwait waiting for a flight to the States. My experience in Iraq is officially over. I flew out of Baghdad and into Kuwait on the 17th and expect to fly out of Kuwait for the States within the next day or two. I know you are anxiously chomping at the bit to find out what the outcome of the game show is but I only have 30 minutes on the computer and it took about 29 for this page to load. Rest assured I will resolve the situation within the next few days. In order to keep your curiosity I'd like to briefly summarize a few of the details. It seems this plot of deception includes such key players as Pete Townshend legendary guitarist for the band The Who, Chuck Norris famous martial artist, and a strange contraption that, on initial investigation, seems to be a the new invention of a totally wireless catheter/cell phone. Weird I know but I couldn't make this stuff up even if I tried. Well, maybe if I tried really hard. Anyway, I'll bring this whole nasty episode to a proper ending once I have a little more time at the computer. Until then I'll enjoy my last few hours in the middle east and look forward the once again inhaling the ever present air of Freedom only to be had in the God Fearing U. S. of A.

A Striking Development

2005-09-15T11:37:00.000-05:00

It seems that the results of the always exciting Lightning Round from the hit new game show "What Would You Do?" have been tampered with. There has been a series of very questionable events that have lead our panel of celebrity judges to launch a full scale investigation culminating in the arrest of one Jamie Good. Once the final interrogations have taken place I'll post a full account of the events and the ruling of the panel of celebrity judges. All I can say at this point is that in all my years of Game Showing I've never seen anything as sneaky and underhanded as this. But rest assured the dangerous criminal behind all this is safely locked up in an undisclosed location and will never again be able to harm another innocent game show contestant again.

Stay tuned for the full detailed report.

Back at Liberty

2005-09-08T01:58:00.000-05:00

Well, my responsibilities have ended. I'm back at Liberty in a trailer waiting out my last days in Iraq. So far all I've done is sleep in, eat, play basketball (which I'm not very good at), eat dinner, go to sleep. That pretty much sums it up. I think we're going to go to a different camp today to visit the Mecca of all Haji shops. I've only been there once before but I remember they have a pretty good selection. The mood here is very light now that we no longer have a mission and aren't really sending guys out into the streets anymore. We had an awards ceremony the other day where one of my friends got the Bronze Star. He really deserved it. But to sum up the whole experience as they were pinning the medal onto his uniform the metal star part fell off of the cloth ribbon part and almost fell in between the wooden slats of the deck we were standing on. You have to hand it to the lowest bidder. I'm still not exactly sure when I'll actually be at my house in the States. The story on how long the out processing process will take, and when it actually starts keeps changing. It seems the hurricane has shifted a large number of forces around in the states and processing centers for guys coming back from Iraq have been affected. Oh well, it'll happen sometime. I'm not too worried.

I'll wait a few more days to turn the results of the Lightning Round over to the celebrity judges. So far only Jamie Good has turned in a response. It was very creative, however I must point out that I really like my Mother-in-Law.

Word Verification

2005-09-03T05:34:00.000-05:00

I kept getting spam comments on my blog so I had to turn on Word Verification for the comments section. I should just add a small step to leaving a comment but I think it'll be worth it.

"What Would You Do?" The Lightning Round

2005-09-03T04:40:00.000-05:00

It's time for everyone's favorite game show "What Would You Do?". This is the episode you've all been waiting for. It's big, it's exciting, it's more exciting than sliced bread or magic nose goblins, I'm making it up as I go. It's the always exciting Lightning Round. You remember the rules? Well I've sort of forgotten them so it'll work like this. I'll post three pictures and you, the winners of the regular game, get to come up with what you think happened after the picture was taken, or what circumstances you think revolved around the picture. After the entries are in and the celebrity judges have made their decisions I'll announce the winners along with the actual story behind the picture. Are you ready? Ok, April, Jamie Good, and Peter if you're still out there your answers are the only one that count toward the mystery prize. Everyone is welcome to participate but their answers are the only ones being judged. Your answers will be judged on originality and creativity not necessarily accuracy. As network news has proven time and again accuracy isn't really all that important anyway. Here goes!!

Picture number 1

Picture number 2

Picture number 3

Disclaimer

2005-08-30T03:51:00.000-05:00

I must set the record straight. The last picture of me sitting in a chair was not taken in my room. My room is about 1/3 the size of the one in that picture. The room the picture was taken in belongs to a friend of mine who is a lieutenant. They get the nice rooms with the tile floors, we get the other kind. Anyway. I still promise to post the last round of What Would You Do but it takes time to come up with that stuff and time is something in short supply lately. So I'll buy myself a few more days with mindless rambling and a few pictures. This picture was taken as a submission to the Brigade yearbook. The three of us are the only ones from our little unit that are here away from the Brigade so we had to send our own picture in. The mustaches were from a previous exercise in pushing the limits of who can tell you what you can and can not do in the military. If there is any question as to who can and can not tell me what to do it would quickly be answered by the fact that I no longer have a mustache. It seems anyone can tell me what to do and I have to listen. Oh well, no skin off my back. Just hair off my lip. I didn't really like the mustache anyway.

I am so close to leaving this place I can hardly believe it. Looking back it seems like it flew by, but I can remember times I thought it would never come. I also remember times I was sure I wouldn't even make it out of here. All that is in the past and as long as I can go the very short distance we have left this will all be a few good memories and a bunch of stories who's accuracy will probably deteriorate as the years go by. This has been one amazing journey. I'll save all the sappy reflections for a later blog though. Until next time whenever you think of me think of me singing a little song I've made up that revolves around the quickly descending number of days I have left as I walk along with a big smile on my face thinking of the glorious September days just around the corner. But you have to picture it without the mustache. And no Army uniform, or weapon, or body armor, or ear plugs, or safety glasses, or helmet, or large Israeli bandage, small Israeli bandage, one handed tourniquet, or 210 rounds of ammunition, or radio, or gas mask, or anything else you have to carry to be a soldier.

It's Getting Close Now

2005-08-28T13:37:00.000-05:00

I know you all are expecting the Always Exciting Lightning Round of What Would You Do The Game Show, but man has it been busy here. We are getting ready, nay we are in the process of turning over our responsibilities to the next unit. I had to move my room this past week to make room for the new unit. We've been sending guys back to Liberty as the new unit has been moving in. That's pretty much all I can tell you about that In case the insurgents become interested in my blog and the Army decides I did something wrong and puts me in jail when I have such a short time left. So instead I'll tell you about how having the new unit come in has impacted my day to day Life.

A few days ago I had to move out of my nice four man room. My other three room mates had already moved out for various reasons including one AWOL. I don't know about you but to be out here fighting for your life and the guys life next to you it really ticks me off that someone would decide to go AWOL this late in the game. Not to mention the fact that he went on "Emergency" leave four times. Have you ever read the story about the boy who cried wolf? Well right now that boy is scheduled to be court marshaled. It's hard for me to have any kind of pity or sympathy for someone who would desert his unit in a time of war. However that's neither here nor there. So I had my own room with a shower and a sink. It was awesome. They asked me about a week before if I would move into a different room down the hall from mine so they could consolidate all the guys from our unit. I said yes but just laid low under the radar because I knew the new unit wasn't coming in for about another week and I also knew they wouldn't really need me out of my room until the new guys got here. So I stuck around in my room for another week of solitude and personal showers. Finally they forced me to move. My new room was a storage closet when this place was an Iraqi Soldier barracks under Saddam. It's large for a storage closet but small for a two man room. Anyway, the guy that was in the room moved back to liberty the day I moved in so I thought cool I'd get my own private storage closet/room. So I set up my bed, slid my still fully loaded wall locker down the hall, tossed my duffel bags under the bad, and settled in for the short remainder of my part in the Liberation of Iraq. Well about 11:00 that night they put another guy in there with me. He's pretty cool and we both work long shifts so we really only sleep in there at the same time and that's about it. The bonus to all this is I inadvertently got free internet access for a while.

About a month ago one of the local nationals set up a little Haji shop in a small metal building on our FOB. He also set up a satellite and some computers in the place. He charges something like 2 bucks an hour and he lets guys smoke in the building which was a brilliant niche marketing ploy if you ask me. If I had to guess I would say 75% or more of the Army are hardcore heavyduty chain smokers. He also started running a cat 5 cable to soldiers rooms for $80 a month. I only had one month left here when he started that and $80 is $80. So I didn't do it. A little too rich for my blood. The guy who's storage closet/room I moved into however did do it. So when I moved in there was this green cat 5 cable sticking out of the wall begging to be used. So I plugged it in and low and behold I had a pretty fast internet connection. That is up until last night. I was chatting with my wife on Yahoo when I lost my connection. I followed the cable down the hall and into the router they have set up in another Haji shop and saw that it was unplugged. What the heck? I asked the guy and he told me the man who runs the internet service came up and unplugged it. No problem, I said as I walked over to the router and started to grab my cable, can I plug it back in? You see, most of these guys are a little intimidated by Americans and generally want to please them. I figured I could at least get the last couple days of the month that I was sure the previous guy had paid for anyway. No, you have to go ask the guy in the internet place. So I grab all the crap you have to wear to be a soldier that walks out of a building and trotted down to talk to Mohammed. He speaks decent English so we were able to negotiate. I said what's up man, I thought the internet was by the month but it's only the 27th. I said this banking on the fact that he was just as disorganized as all the other Iraqis I've met and I was sure he would just plug it back in. To my surprise he pulls out a binder with entries of who has internet access, when it started, when it finishes, and how much they had paid. That single journal beats anything the Iraqi Army has been able to put together on their own so far. So I say look man, I'm only here for X number of days, how about 15 bucks and we call it good. Done deal. We shook hands, he tried to kiss me and it was all settled. So here I am in the comfort of my own bed typing away in pure bliss with the soothing sound of automatic machine gun fire outside the camp and the baby soft thump of distant mortar rounds pounding the snot out of probably absolutely nothing. Can it get any better than this? Why yes it can. In just about a month if all goes well I should be walking in the front door of my house in Any Town USA, dropping a load off on a real porcelain toilet, taking a shower without shower shoes on, and giving my wife a nice friendly handshake. (Censored for younger readers). It can get better than this. God Bless America

"What Would You Do?" The Game Show Results

2005-08-18T08:42:00.000-05:00

Just after I posted the first nationally syndicated episode of "What Would You Do?" The Game Show we lost internet connectivity here at FOB Justice keeping me from monitoring the contestants feedback. Here I am back online and glad to announce the correct answers and the contestants that will advance to the always exciting lightning round of "What Would You Do?" The Game Show.

The correct answers were:

Situation one:

C) Stand in the middle of the road and wait until you see the suction truck that sucks all the crud out of the septic tanks and chemical toilets. When you see him ask him to empty his truck full of solid human waste, urine, blue port-o-podie water, and who knows what other disease spreading contaminates all over the field where you plan to play soccer in the next oh say 30 minutes. Then when asked how you could possibly think this is a good idea just keep repeating in broken English, "I just want to do good things. I just want to do good things."

Situation two:

D) Choose C first and then when you realize the situation isn't getting any better, or maybe because the American's hysterical laughter peaked your curiosity as to what could be that funny, you get up off the ground, dust yourself off and decide to try out choice B about 10 times until an American with a fire extinguisher pushes you out of the way and puts the fire out in about 0.425 seconds.

I'll include the answers B and C since they were referenced in the correct answer

B) Use the very same hose, which is long enough to reach the fire, but instead of dousing the flames with the hose you instead repeatedly fill and empty a single liter bottle onto the hood never actually making contact with the fire but doing a good job of getting the side of the hood wet just incase the flames make it to that particular spot before the gas tank explodes.

C) Throw all the Styrofoam containers out of the truck onto the sidewalk, the reason for which you're not entirely sure. Stop drop and roll even though you're not on fire prompting the other four or five guys to do the same. So now not only are you not putting out the fire, you're just getting dirty and the Americans are now pointing and taking pictures.

Situation three:

D) After about 4 seconds of deliberation you decide a combination of a little bit of A followed by a short pause for medical reasons, and a simultaneous execution of B and C would best solve the problem.

Again, I'll include A, B, and C for reference.

A) Try the drill in another outlet to make sure the one you're using hasn't been disconnected but immediately dismiss that as a foolish thought because you're pretty sure it has power. After all when you stuck your screw driver in it a minute ago it popped real loud and shot fire up your forearm causing you to throw the already half melted and charred screwdriver across the room.

B) Cut the plug off of your drill and strip the ends of the wires. Next you just shove the bare wires into the slots on the 220V outlet hoping that solves the problem and doesn't reward you with the same electrical magic show the screw driver trick did

C) Send your assistant to the basement to stand in ankle deep sewage and water because the sewage pump is broken and randomly flip switches and pull fuses out of the main fuse box to the whole building having no idea if he's helping or not because he's three floors away.

Our panel of expert judges has reviewed the responses and are proud to announce the finalist in the first ever episode of "What Would You Do?" The Game Show.

The winners are:

April with her response of:

Hmmm...tough ones. I really think I'd go C, D and D. After careful deliberation, I would say that these seem like the best answers. So, did I win? :) Thanks for the laugh. April

jamie good said:

Not speaking from experience.....I am going to go with C, D, D, but then again, all of the above wasn't an option.That was just too funny!!! Please follow up with what really happened. And I bet you anything your grandmother said it as loudly as the rest of us.

And after a long deliberation, and an actual fist fight between two of the celebrities on the panel, our judges decided to accept Peter's answer.

Peter said:

Given the seemingly prevailing attitudes among so many of the locals I'd have to go with D in all three scenarios although I wouldn't faint with shock to have seen 'C' in the first one.

The judges decided to accept Peter's answer for a number of reasons that I feel require some clarification. First, and most important, he was the only male contestant to respond almost correctly. Secondly, as a small child I was so moved by the Brady Bunch episode where the Brady kids made their own singing group and tried out for a contest. In this particular episode Peter was going through a not so comfortable time in the exciting and scary life of a young boy. I'm sure we all remember the fateful day his voice changed right in the chorus of "When it's time to change you've got to rearrange". I was so moved by that episode that right there on the spot I swore that if I was ever recalled into the military and had the first ever blog/game show exploiting the cultural differences between Americans and Iraqis that I would do everything within my power to help anyone named Peter who got two out of three answers correct only to change at the last minute and get all three. And if I don't have my word as a Brady Bunch fan what do I have? So Peter, don't let me down in the always exciting lightning round of "What Would You Do?" The Game Show.

I thought I'd lay down the ground rules for the next round here in this blog and then actually run the program in the next blog. For the always excitng lightning round of "What Would You Do?" The Game Show we at the network have decided to take the production to a whole new level. The next round will consist of pictures with three scenarios following each picture. Two of the scenarios will be completely fictitious with one being the actual set of circumstances surrounding that particular picture. We've scanned high and low to find the best pictures possible and think we have come up with three choices worthy of the first ever always exciting lightning round of "What Would You Do?" The Game Show. We're also excited to announce the planning phase for the all new "What Would You Do?" The Clothes, which is a line of fine men's wear and boxers, and the much anticipated "What Would You Do?" The Lunch Box. We would also like to apologize to anyone whose lives have forever been altered by the marketing, sale, and subsequent law suit invovled with the "What Would You Do?" The Nasal Spray. It seems, upon reflection, the industrial strength jet stream areosol applicator was a bit over kill. Fortunately we found a new niche and after some re labeling we should be able to unveil the all new "What Would You Do?" The Roach and Ant Killer.

So stay tuned for the always exciting lightning round of "What Would You Do?" The Game Show.

"What Would You Do?" The Game Show

2005-08-11T11:04:00.000-05:00

Welcome to this weeks exciting installment of “What Would You Do?” (For the remainder of this Blog I’ll need complete audience participation. When ever you see the words “What Would You Do?” I need you to say, in your most robust and enthusiastic game show audience voice, “What Would You Do?”. Ok, let’s practice. On three. Ready, One, Two, Three “What Would You Do?” That was pretty weak and I know most of you are just pretending to say it but aren’t really saying it out loud. Let’s try it again. This time on two because I think two always feels a little left out. He doesn’t get to be first like One, and he’s never the magic number like Three that, once his name is called, everyone yells whatever it is they’re supposed to yell. So on two. Ready, One Two “What Would You Do?”. Not much better but that’s fine. If it makes you feel a little uncomfortable I understand. I am, after all, only over here sacrificing my life, spending nearly a year and a half away from my family, in constant danger and peril for you to exercise the very freedom to not say “What Would You Do?” So if it’s too much for me to ask for a little audience participation because it might take you out of your pathetic little comfort zone I understand. Grandma, if you’re reading this you’re allowed to not say it if you don’t want to. The rest of you have no excuse. Well, maybe my Pastor and his wife because they both survived cancer. So my Grandma and my Pastor and his wife, but everyone else has to say it. Ok, back to the game.

This is the Blog game show where you, the reader, get to decide what you would do if you were faced with certain, shall we say, real life experiences. For those of you tuning in for the first time, I assume that’s all of you since this is the first time I’ve ever actually done this, let me go over the rules of the game. I will present each contestant with a situation and a list of possible answers. Since the game is called “What Would You Do?” there are no wrong answers. However, since these are real life situations that have already happened there is one answer that could win you a trip to the always exciting lightning round. In fairness sake and for believability I have only chosen events that have been witnessed by Myself and at least one other person. If you don’t believe these events happened references can be made available upon request. If you pick all the answer to the situations that actually happened you will advance to the most exciting round of Blog Game Show play America has ever seen. When I say that I’m banking on the assumption that America has not yet seen any Blog Game Shows therefore mine wins the most exciting category by default. Ok, put on your thinking caps and get ready to play “What Would You Do?” (You forgot to say it already didn’t you?) If you’re more of a visual learner feel free to recreate these scenes at home if you feel it will help you better picture the situations.

Situation number one: Imagine yourself in a foreign country surrounded by local nationals whose customs and habit differ from your own. Let’s say this country has a national sport and that sport is soccer. Let us further assume that the country is fairly poor so they don’t really have soccer fields anywhere. They just play soccer anywhere there’s enough open space to kick a ball around. Let’s pick a spot I like to call the big dirt field in front of the building I work in. The scene looks something like this; Plowed up dirt and rocks with the frame of a soccer goal on each end but no nets, lot’s of palm trees, and lots of dust. On any given occasion you can see anywhere from 4 to 12 stray dogs roaming around the dirt biting each other. I know this because I count them every few days to see if we have any new ones. The Organization that runs the compound, we’ll call them, oh I don’t know, The Iraqi Army, decides they want to hire you to be the sports coordinator for the organization. You know, get some games together, get the organization physically fit, build some team work and confidence in the members. At this point let’s assume you are a local national. If you feel you’re under qualified don’t worry. The person that was actually chosen in the real life situation didn’t have any experience or skills either. Let’s just say you know somebody and that somebody is willing to create a job for you out of thin air and isn’t really going to require you to do anything anyway or even to show up for that matter. You never know, you may even get a Bronze star when it’s all said and done. But I digress. So here you are on your first day of the job. You figure you should at least do something incase anyone ever asks you for proof that you actually did something. You get a few of the guys out on the field and realize that the ankle deep soft dirt is not really all that conducive to playing soccer. Your first clue was the solid dirt cloud hovering at about shoulder height all around the field. You figure the best thing you can do is sprinkle a little water around to keep the dust down for the short term, but long term you’d like to plant a little grass so it looks nice and is easier to play soccer. A capital idea embraced by all. The only problem is the whole thing is located in a desert and the nearest water faucet is about 300 meters from the dirt field. Being the shrewd problem solver you are and drawing on your extensive background and skills outlined earlier in the situation you stop and ponder your options.

You could:

A) Nail a few hoses together until you have a long enough hose to set up a sprinkler to water the area.

B) Have one of the water trucks that sprinkles water on the dirt roads to keep the dust down dump a little water on your soccer field.

C) Stand in the middle of the road and wait until you see the suction truck that sucks all the crud out of the septic tanks and chemical toilets. When you see him ask him to empty his truck full of solid human waste, urine, blue port-o-podie water, and who knows what other disease spreading contaminates all over the field where you plan to play soccer in the next oh say 30 minutes. Then when asked how you could possibly think this is a good idea just keep repeating in broken English, “I just want to do good things. I just want to do good things.”

D) Just look at the dirt and say if Allah wanted grass to be there he would have put grass there and who are you to interfere with what Allah does and doesn’t want. And then go take a nap.

Wait! Don’t answer yet, in “What Would You Do?” You get to save all your answers until the end.

Situation number two: Imagine if you will that you are the driver of a small flat bed truck and you have four or five guys in the back of the truck. It’s about lunch time and you and the four or five guys have just gone to the local food establishment, for the sake of argument we’ll say it’s the Iraqi Chow hall, to get enough Styrofoam containers of chicken and rice to feed your whole battalion. You leisurely drive up to a place I like to call the front steps of the building I work in so you can deliver the tasty salmonella infested treats to your fellow soldiers. You carefully pull up to the curb so you don’t spill even a single tasty grain of rice on the ground, only to realize the front of your truck has just burst into flames. Ok, Keep cool you can get this one. Your next step would be what? Take a minute and ponder while we play the theme song to “What Would You Do?” which, oddly enough, sounds exactly like the theme song to jeopardy only a half step higher. Do do do do do do doooooo, do do do do do/, da do do do do. Do do do do do do doooooo. Doop da do doooo doop doop doop Ba Boomp.

Ok, here are your choices:

A) Grab the hose you just ran over that is always turned on spouting precious water into the drought torn desert 24 hours a day 7 days a week and easily douse the flames saving yourself, your fellow soldiers, and the Styrofoam containers of food.

B) Use the very same hose, which is long enough to reach the fire, but instead of dousing the flames with the hose you instead repeatedly fill and empty a single liter bottle onto the hood never actually making contact with the fire but doing a good job of getting the side of the hood wet just incase the flames make it to that particular spot before the gas tank explodes.

C) Throw all the Styrofoam containers out of the truck onto the sidewalk, the reason for which you’re not entirely sure. Stop drop and roll even though you’re not on fire prompting the other four or five guys to do the same. So now not only are you not putting out the fire, you’re just getting dirty and the Americans are now pointing and taking pictures.

D) Choose C first and then when you realize the situation isn’t getting any better, or maybe because the American’s hysterical laughter peaked your curiosity as to what could be that funny, you get up off the ground, dust yourself off and decide to try out choice B about 10 times until an American with a fire extinguisher pushes you out of the way and puts the fire out in about 0.425 seconds.

Alright, Judges do we have time for one more situation in the regular round of play on “What Would You Do?” Our panel of expert judges is telling me we have time for one more situation. Here we go.

Situation number three: You are a local national electrician in a third world country. You’ve been contracted by the Americans to run some plastic conduit and electrical wires in all the rooms of a building where the American soldiers are living. The building is made of concrete and brick so in order to fasten anything you’re going to need to drill holes into the walls and ceiling. You have some wire cutters, an electric drill with a masonry bit, a screw driver with a half melted handle and scorch marks on the shaft (this is important later because it suggests a certain pattern in your level of electrical knowledge), an assistant that just stands there and, using a crude form of sign language, asks if the Americans have any Fiki Fiki magazines he can look at, and a ladder that you built yourself out of scrap wood. The ceiling is about 13 feet high and you need to run the conduit out to the middle of the ceiling for what turns out to be no real reason at all because after the job is done you don’t even hook anything up to it. You have already worked out some sort of borderline magic trick/voodoo thing to keep you and the ladder balanced while you stand on the very top rung while extending your arms all the way to their fullest extent just to be able to barley skim the ceiling with the very tip of your middle finger. However, the electric drill you’re using doesn’t seem to be working anymore. You climb down from your ladder and scratch your head pondering what you should do next.

Your options are:

A) Try the drill in another outlet to make sure the one you’re using hasn’t been disconnected but immediately dismiss that as a foolish thought because you’re pretty sure it has power. After all when you stuck your screw driver in it a minute ago it popped real loud and shot fire up your forearm causing you to throw the already half melted and charred screwdriver across the room.

B) Cut the plug off of your drill and strip the ends of the wires. Next you just shove the bare wires into the slots on the 220V outlet hoping that solves the problem and doesn’t reward you with the same electrical magic show the screw driver trick did

C) Send your assistant to the basement to stand in ankle deep sewage and water because the sewage pump is broken and randomly flip switches and pull fuses out of the main fuse box to the whole building having no idea if he’s helping or not because he’s three floors away.

D) After about 4 seconds of deliberation you decide a combination of a little bit of A followed by a short pause for medical reasons, and a simultaneous execution of B and C would best solve the problem.

(Now for continuity in the story pretend you just heard a buzzer go off back stage)

Oh, that buzzer means the end of our regular play. Ok, I need each contestant to post his or her answers in the comments section so I can see who advances to the always exciting Lightning Round on “What Would You Do?”

“What Would You Do?” has been brought to you in part by our good friends in the IRR reminding you to get an unlisted phone number, caller ID, and a Post Office Box.

And also by a local Army Recruiter near you who would like to say “Just because my lips are moving doesn’t mean I’m not telling the truth. When I said they only use the IRR after the draft what I really meant was chances are good you’ll be recalled and sent off to war five years after you get out of the regular army. They’re really both the same thing when you stop and think about it.”

Tune in next time to see who the lucky winners are that advance to the always exciting Lightning Round on “What Would You Do?”

(Picture the camera pulling back to a wide shot of the set and me shaking hands and making idle chit chat with the contestants and periodically looking in the general direction of the camera and laughing at something witty I just said as the credits roll up the screen way too fast for anyone to read.)

An Excerpt From the Journal of Cody Badger

2005-08-05T03:50:00.000-05:00

I know it's been a while since I've posted but I've just been waiting for something good to happen to tell you about. It doesn't seem anything else good is going to happen in Iraq ever so I might as well post now. The one good thing is the timeline to leave Iraq looks to be the same. I will be home for the holidays this year.

Here's an entry I found the other day from the journal of my friend Cody Badger. I'm not sure when it was written because it wasn't dated.

Morale is at an all time low here right now. You'd think with the anticipation of going home everyone would be excited, but you'd be wrong. I never really thought about this until very recently, but as long as you didn't know when you were going home you had un unquantifiable amount of time to see if anything we were doing here would make any difference whatsoever. Granted I'm in a "Can't see the forest for the trees" point of view right now, but I've seen little to prove we've done any lasting good. We did liberate the country from Saddam, which is a good thing, but liberated into what? That remains to be seen. Living day in and day out with the Iraqi people, interacting with them much more than I interact with the Americans here has shown me a small glimmer of the hopelessness and despair that is Iraq regardless of who's leading it. The saying "You can't teach an old dog new tricks" isn't quite accurate. You can teach him all the new tricks you want. He may even do a few of them once or twice as long as you're standing right there watching him. But the minute you stop watching him he's going to do whatever the heck he wants to do no matter the consequence. And, as long as you don't set guidelines or enforce a certain standard all your doing is wasting time, or lives, to condone whatever the dog wants to do. You're just saying, "It's OK to do things anyway you want no matter the outcome because I'm here to justify you're decisions and shield you from any consequences." "If the other puppies don't see things your way it's OK to kill them or put them in prison or torture them, as long as it works out well for you go ahead, we'll even look the other way. Heck, well even pat you on the back and tell you good job. Why? Because it would be way to hard to make a system where all the different animals can get along. Let's just let the ones who can manipulate the power the best be the ones that get to write the next section of the history books. If there's anything we've taught anyone it's that the more power you have the more right you must be.

Good old Cody, he never sugar coats anything.

In some positive news I saved a ton on car insurance.

Freedom Rest Day Four

2005-07-22T02:47:00.000-05:00

It's actually been 10 days since freedom rest day four but it's been a busy ten days. The last day of Freedom Rest was like all the other days, relaxing and enjoyable. The night finished off with one of the funniest things I've seen since being here. They had a Karoke machine set up in the movie theatre and you could pick a song and do it. I didn't participate but got on the computer to chat with my wife instead. I was on a computer close to the door and as a result I could see what was going on in the hallway out of the corner of my eye. I thought I saw Michael Jackson walk by. You remember the white shirt, black arm bands and black hat era of Michael Jackson? That's when one of the guys said if you want to see the funniest thing you've ever seen you need to come to the theatre right now. Sure enough, one of the Iraqi guys that works at the Freedom Rest place was dressed like Michael Jackson, curly wig and all. As he started his way down the aisle the lights dimmed and a spotlight came on. Michael Jackson's Billy Jean started pumping through the speakers and the Iraqi MJ stepped on stage with all the grace and commanding personality of a seasoned performer. At first everyone was sort of quiet not really knowing what to expect.....Until he started dancing. This guy could really move. He started to dance and then threw his hat off stage just like MJ would do. This guy had choreographed the whole dance section from the Billy Jean music video. At this point everyone was on their feet cheering, and then he started singing. It was more or less on pitch but still had an Arabic accent to it. I got only one picture and it didn't turn out to well because it was dark, but they were taking a video of it. Earlier in the week they had told us that they took on average 500 pictures per cycle and at the end they gave everyone a CD with all the pictures on it. So I figured the Michael Jackson pictures and video would probably be on there too. After all the excitement I went to bed around 11:00 and got up for breakfast the next day and the dreaded return to my uniform and weapon. After breakfast and signing out of our rooms we had a little brief we had to go to to get the instructions for getting out of there. That's when they told us they had a problem with the pictures and couldn't make the disk. Oh well, I'll always remember Freedom rest and Iraqi Michael Jackson.

A convoy from our unit came and picked us up to take us back to Liberty. Once there I was supposed to catch a ride back to FOB Justice. I had a small layover there so I stopped by my company to see if there was anything I needed to take care of while I was there. As it turned out it was a good visit. The timeline for our departure from Iraq had been published that day. I can't really give any details but let's just say I have less than two months left in the country. After that it's only supposed to take a little over a week to get to the states and be completely out processed and back at home. All said and done my 18 month activation will only last a little less than 14 months. A long time still but not as long as it could have been. Once that timeline came out everything sort of hit the fan. Now we have to plan the turnover to the next unit and plan all the logistics involved in getting a Brigade from one side of the world to the other. The time is flying by because we're so busy and I don't really foresee it slowing down until the plane lifts off the runway and we wave goodbye to Iraq. I know it's really close because we're starting to turn in some of our gear and I already mailed a footlocker of personal stuff home. In case you wonder it costs 45 dollars to ship a footlocker from Baghdad to the west coast of the United States and it should take about a month to get there. In my haste to pack the box I accidentally put my Sim Chip for my cell phone in with the rest of the stuff. We don't have outgoing mail here so when they showed up unannounced for one afternoon everyone rushed to mail boxes and packages home. Not a terribly big deal but I won't be able to use my cell phone when I get to the states. One of the pictures I've had in my head is calling my wife from the plane as we taxi to the gate in the States and saying I'm home. I'll have to get a calling card or maybe have my wife overnight it once I get back to the States. I'm really starting to get excited. You have to disconnect yourself from your life back home just to be able to get through being here. Sort of an emotional buffer so you don't miss them so much. But now that the end is in sight I'm letting that down and I almost can't contain my excitement. It's like a little kid thinking about Christmas. You just play the different scenarios over and over in your head and almost can't contain yourself because of the excitement exploding from deep inside. I find myself just sort of giggling every now and then just to let a little excitement out so I don't explode. Sort of like an excitement steam valve. Once the pressure reaches a certain point it just opens for a second and everything's fine. Well, I'll keep you posted on any further developments.

Freedom Rest Day Three

2005-07-12T01:05:00.000-05:00

Even though I call it day three it's really a recap of day two. After lunch I did spend quite a while out by the pool. To answer a question in one of the comments the orange cones by the ladders in the pool were there because they were vacuuming the pool and didn't want us in there stirring up the dirt. We had a little rotation going on at the diving boards trying to one up each other. I did pretty well. It's probably been 15 years since I've actually tried to do any kind of real dive. Not since High School swimming anyway. It was a lot of fun. When we first got here they gave us each a bottle of sunscreen. It's the spray on kind. It seems that yesterday when I put mine on in the morning I srayed everywhere except my right arm. I guess I forgot to change hands while I was spraying. So now I have a sunburned right arm. Oh well. I also played a whole lot of acoustic guitar again. What a great instrument. I can't wait to get back to playing it regularly. I read a Michael Crichton book for a couple of hours and ate an ice cream bar. The ice cream bar was of the chocolate variety and sort of messy. After I was done it looked like I not only crapped my shorts, but my shirt to. Fortunately there's a laundry place here where you can wash your own clothes. We had Lasagna and Spaghetti and some other Italian stuff for dinner. It's going to be disappointing to go back to the Army chow at FOB Justice. My Grandma was at my Parent's house visiting yesterday so I surprised her with a phone call from Iraq. It was good to talk to her. Well, I guess I'll get my busy day of relaxation started. Today is the last day here. We leave tomorrow morning.

Freedom Rest Photos

2005-07-11T04:44:00.000-05:00

This is a picture of the big pool at the freedom rest area. I'll post some more pictures in the photo album right after I post this blog. Then I'll update it as I take more pictures.

Freedom Rest Day Two

2005-07-11T01:54:00.000-05:00

Man this place is still great. Yesterday after the brief I hopped in the pool. They have scheduled activities throughout the four days or you can do whatever the heck you want to. As I was getting into the pool they were just starting the water volleyball tournament. That was great. Everyone is so relaxed and just wants to have some fun so it didn't turn out to be too terribly competitive. After that I just swam around and jumped off the diving platforms. I bought a pair of swimming shorts for 8 bucks at one of the shops. You're allowed to wear your PT shorts to swim but if you do you have to wear the whole uniform right when you get out of the pool. IF you wear civilian shorts it doesn't matter. Eight bucks is so incredibly worth it to not be in an Army uniform. Last night I watched a movie and a half in the movie theatre. They sell DVD's here at the Haji shops for two or three bucks a piece, but watching a movie on a laptop versus a theatre doesn't even compare. Not to mention the quality of a real movie is far superior to the Haji copies. It was great. We also had SUMO wrestling last night. You know where you dress up in the huge padded suits with the fake SUMO hair helmets and knock each other out of a circle. I didn't get in on the beginning when they had sign ups so I just watched. It was hilarious seeing grown men and women bouncing each other around in those big suits. Let's see what else was there? They had belly dancing lessons but I opted out of that one. Of course more music. I checked out the acoustic guitar, which turned out to be a very expensive Martin, and played that for a while. I think it'll take me a little bit to get my acoustic guitar chops back. The string tension on an acoustic is so much heavier than an electric. Even though I play my electric fairly regularly my fingers were a bit tired after the acoustic. But man was it cool. A few of the songs I've written are ones I planned on using an acoustic for so it was extremely satisfying to hear them on one. Plus chicks just dig acoustic guitars. We had steak for dinner last night. It had been marinating for a couple of days and it was unbelievable. I also had a fruit salad and some sweet potatoes. They have a place for breakfast where you can order omelets however you want them, but since I woke up around the crack of 10:00 I missed breakfast. This morning I sat out by the pool for about 45 minutes and then came to the computer lab. After lunch I plan on spending a large part of the day in the pool. I'll probably post again tonight and fill you in on the events of today. Maybe by then I'll actually get some of the pictures off my camera and post them for you.

Freedom Rest Day One

2005-07-10T03:26:00.000-05:00

Last night I convoyed back to Camp Liberty so I could catch a ride this morning to "The Green Zone" for a four day pass called Freedom Rest. I slept in my old room with a surprise new room mate. I guess I don't really have a room at Liberty anymore. We pulled out of Liberty this morning and convoyed to a resort on the Tigris river built by Saddam for his republican guard. This place is great. There are 2 pools, a gym, a music room, movie theatre, restaurant, you name it. The first thing we did was turn in our weapons and body armor. It was nice to get rid of them but sort of weird to walk around without a weapon. Every time I walk away from somewhere it feels like I'm forgetting something. They put us up in these little bungalows 6 guys to a room overlooking the two pools and a little outdoor section of the restaurant. I think it's sort of like a cruise though, you don't spend much time in the room. Next I did something I haven't done in the better part of a year. I took my uniform off and put on civilian clothes. Right now I'm trotting around in a t-shirt, shorts and flip flops. Who would have ever believed it. We took a short tour of the place before lunch. After the tour I headed up to the music room where a couple of guys were jamming and joined in. I played drums for a while and then switched to guitar. Someone donated a few drum sets, an electric and acoustic guitar, a bass and a few amps. The electric is an actual Gibson Les Paul (my personal favorite) and the amp is a Line 6 Spider II for anyone who cares. The point is that the stuff is actually pretty decent. After shaking the rust off of my drum chops and strumming a few melodious slabs of distorted guitar music I swaggered on out by the pool in my cool civilian duds to see what Saddam had waiting for us there. There's a regular spring board and two diving platforms at 5 and 10 meters respectively. I'm not sure why but there's also a little round pool a few feet deep with some slides. Looks like a kiddie pool. I guess Saddam was a real family type of guy. I think I'll wait until the brief at 1300 before I go swimming. Lunch was next. I ordered stir fry and they cooked it right there in front of me however I wanted it. This place is really cool. I think the thing that makes it so cool is that your in regular clothes and free to do whatever you want. They have a full size movie theatre so I think I'll catch a movie or two while I'm here. There's also a place they call "Vendor Alley". It's a row of little shops run by locals where you can buy anything from Muslim prayer rugs to $30 Nike shoes to fake Rolex watches. I'll have to check it out to see if anything strikes my fancy. All in all I can say I'm having a great time so far and I've only been here for a few hours. I'll post some pictures once I get a chance and I'll keep you updated on what I've done while at the glorious Freedom Rest Resort.

Kentucky Rides Again, and How to Fix an Iraqi Hose

2005-07-09T01:36:00.000-05:00

For those of you that remember Kentucky, the guy I went through the initial recall with, I heard from him the other day. He's alive and well and counting the days until he leaves. It seems when they cut his orders they were for 365 days instead of the 545 days the rest of us got. It looks like there may be a chance he will get to go home earlier than the rest of his unit. I hope he does. The big question remains what will happen to our bags when we leave? Everybody else is loading theirs up in a conex to ship back to their home station. We don't have home stations though. This is a problem for him too. It's good to know that there universally isn't a plan for everyone and not just me. As long as I'm not the only one that doesn't have a plan for getting home I feel better.

On to the Iraqi hose. I've noticed, since I've been working with the Iraqis, that they are a very resourceful bunch. They're completely comfortable with thinking outside the box. Not only in things like problem solving but also in law enforcement and human rights. My first glimpse at this was when they were trying to run some wire from one side of the building to the other. The building we live in is shaped like a "U" if you look at it from above. So from the hallway just outside of my second floor room I can look out the window and see the other wing across the courtyard. One day the Iraqis decided they needed to run a wire from our wing to the other wing. This does, on the surface, present a few problems. How do you get the wire across the courtyard, how do you get the wire from inside the hallway to the outside of the hallway, and once on the other side how do you get it back inside the other hallway? The answer to these and almost all other questions is a hammer. They just hit the window with the hammer breaking out a whole section. Then they tied the wire to the hammer and dropped it into the courtyard. Another guy in the courtyard would then throw the tethered hammer up onto the roof on the opposite wing. This took a few tries and more than one injury. Once the hammer and wire are on the opposite roof they just bashed out another window and fed the wire through. Problem solved.

A similar solution is used to install a car stereo system onto a scooter. You know the Honda Spree type scooters? Those are everywhere around here. And nothing says pimped out scooter like nailing a car tape deck and speakers to the plastic molding under the handle bars. I don't know about you but I think that just screams Chic Magnet! Once the stereo and speakers are nailed to the dash they take a wire coat hanger and wrap it around the whole front end. I guess this is a secondary safety incase the shattered plastic no longer holds the nails they drove into it.
Lets say you wanted to water the patch of dirt oh say 20 meters from your front door but only had two 10 meter hoses. What would you do? The obvious question is why do you need to water the dirt, and the answer is since the hose is never turned off you might as well water something. The hose outside the front of our building has been on since I got here a number of months ago. 24 hours a day the hose is on. There's no grass, just dirt so why do you need the hose? I don't know the answer but I do know that the hose must have been too short because as of yesterday it's now twice as long. How did they mend the two hoses together you ask? Simple, they nailed it together. I know you think I'm making this up so I have photographic proof. The service I use to post my blogs just came up with a way to post pictures without using a third party hosting site so here's my first trial at using it.

Iraqi Charades

2005-07-02T14:29:00.000-05:00

First I’ll set the scene. It was me and about five Iraqi soldier and officers sitting on a wooden bench outside the detention facility just as the sun was setting. Usually I have an interpreter with me wherever I go, but not this time. We were pointing at things around us and saying what the English word was and what the Arabic word was. Bird; Bil Bil, Puppy; Jerue, Door; Bob, open the door; Eftah Il Bob, close the door; Sed Il Bob. I’ve known these guys for a while and I’m pretty comfortable with them. They’ve taught me a lot about the Arabic culture and language. We’ve shared many meals together and stories about our homes and families. A few of them have even tried to kiss me on the cheek, which is normal in their culture but still a tad bit weird for me. So there we were trying to learn to communicate in each others language without the help of an interpreter. The words flowed pretty well until we got to the word pistol. Most Iraqis can write Arabic words using our alphabet to spell the words phonetically. Most of them can even sound out English words but have no idea what they are. It seems odd to me that they could actually read a book in English by sounding out all the words, even though it would take forever, but still have no idea what they just read. Anyway, we got to pistol and they told me three different words. War War (rhymes with Jar Jar), Masadas, and Fart (which I found out later is actually Fard). I was trying to figure out which was which, like did you use one word for one kind of pistol and another word for a different kind of pistol? At this point it broke into a game of charades. They kept saying Fart and the word Al Bedewa like that would clear it up for me. I still didn’t know what they were trying to make Fart mean but now it seemed Al Bedewa was important too. Now we have to figure out Al Bedewa to get Fart. Then they would explain it in Arabic and talk among themselves I guess to try to figure out how to tell me what they meant. It seemed the discussion produced the bright idea for the officers to tell the enlisted guys different things to act out so I could figure out the difference. One guy was walking around hunched over repeating a hand motion showing he had what I thought was a lump or tumor on his back. All I could come up with was Quasi Moto but that didn’t help. I couldn’t figure out what he was trying to show me but he kept saying Fart, Fart. So all I see is this guy walking around with a deformed back farting over and over again. He was actually saying Fard but I couldn’t tell the difference so I thought he was using some English slang. So I did what every American does when someone talks about farts. I laughed. The more he did it the more I laughed which made them laugh. They looked at me sort of strange so I used charades to show what the word Fart meant to me. This got them rolling. It seems the only culture that thinks human gas is funnier than Americans is Iraqis. The whoopee cushion my son sent me and the little electronic "pull my finger pen" my friends sent are testimony to this fact. So now they know what Fart is but I still have no idea what Fard is. The Major that was there tells one of his soldiers something and the soldier leaves. A minute later he comes back with some paper and a pencil, charades just turned into Win Lose or Draw. The Major draws a picture of a camel. Now the charades made sense, but I still didn’t know what Fard, Pistol and Camel had in common. Was it some special type of pistol you only shot camels with? So I act out the motion of shooting the camel and this makes them laugh more. He keeps drawing and makes a rope coming from the camels mouth and tied around the neck of a little stick figure dangling off the ground. Now I’m really lost. Now they are hanging people from camels? The Major sees that this illustration isn’t doing anything so he moves on to the word Masadas. For this he draws a man with a turban and a Dish Dash (the long man dresses some people wear). So now I think you must use a Fard to shoot camels and a Masadas to shoot men. What does it matter what weapon you use, the outcome is the same. So I think maybe it’s like the Eskimos and snow. We just say snow but they have a bunch of different words for snow depending on the way the flakes form together. It seemed sort of fitting that the Iraqis had different words for a pistol depending on what it killed. After all, they’ve been killing each other for 2000 years. It still seemed odd, and they were still walking up to each other and saying their new found English word Fart using animated motions and all. This scene sort of dissolved into hysteria and Fart jokes and not much learning. After a while one of the interpreters showed up and cleared the whole matter up. A War War is an old word used for a revolver, Masadas is a new more modern word used by more sophisticated people (Hence the Dish Dash), and Fard is the word the Bedewans (Al Bedewa) use out in the desert for pistol (Hence the camel). It turns out the guy they were lynching from the camel was in fact just taking the camel for a walk. This was probably the most fun I’ve had just hanging out talking with the guys here. When you have an interpreter you tend to use them as a crutch, and the rythym of the conversation is lost. You say something and then it’s translated. They say something and then it’s translated. You spend the majority of the time waiting for the translation. This way, even though we didn’t get much communicating done, it was more like we were bonding instead of trading ideas through an idea broker. I had a good time that night, in fact I stayed about an hour after my shift just laughing and learning Arabic words. These will be some of the times I’ll take back with me.

Photo update

2005-07-02T03:47:00.000-05:00

SCM has requested new pictures so she's got em. Her requests were the ones that prompted me to start the photo album in the first place, and she is probably one of the most loyal readers. So SCM, I updated the FOB Justice section of the photo album and I'll try not to neglect it so much in the future.

In other news I've got what's called a freedom rest pass coming. It's a three or four day pass to the "green zone" in Baghdad. I don't know all the details yet but I think there's a hotel with a pool so all the rest doesn't really matter. I'll fill you in more when I find out the details.

Thank You Mr. Congressman

2005-06-27T11:26:00.000-05:00

I guess I should have started the last blog with something like, "This is me venting and has nothing to do with my well being." Everybody here is in the Army so I can't really let off steam about the Army to them. So every once in a while I let it out in the blog. I don't mean to come off as negative, just need to let out some steam so it doesn't stay bottled up. So let me start this blog off with, "This is me venting and has nothing to do with my well being."

There was an order put out today by my Brigade that says all E-7s and above and Officers will receive Bronze Stars for being here. It doesn't say all E-7s and above and Officers will receive a Bronze star for something meritorious, but just that you will receive one because you're an E-7 or above. Not only do I think this is ridiculous for the obvious reason that it wasn't earned, but because it cheapens it for anyone who received it before. It's like saying everyone who finishes the NBA season and played at least one game gets a ring. Or maybe anyone who can either add and subtract, or complete a sentence using more than three words will get the Nobel Peace Prize, as long as they show up to the awards ceremony. I think the only person in America that deserves a prize for "just showing up" is Ralph Nader. Other than that you should actually have to do something. Oh, and by the way, all you E-6s and below thanks for coming along for the ride but we don't really appreciate anything you've done for us in this war effort. Well, other than all the work you did so we could get one of the highest Army awards there is. And remember to stand perfectly still at attention while we receive our awards. Because one day, if you work real hard and risk your life, maybe you too can get an award for just showing up. *

* (working hard and risking life optional, not available in all ranks, void where prohibited by law, award has no cash value, hazardous if swallowed, may depreciate in prestige if given as a blanket award)

Man, did I say that out loud?

I can't for the life of me remember why I didn't re enlist the first time around.

Oh well, I'm better now. This place is getting to me though. I would like my money back please, this ride kind of stinks.

Moving on to more positive things. Even though my hours have increased at work I've been able to schedule the time I do have off a little more tightly. I've been able to write a few more songs and I've been working out in the gym regularly. It's a lot easier to work out when you have other people to work out with. My motivation is higher if there are other people involved. I have not been able to get to the computer very much though. One day my blog will say something witty and retrospective about this whole experience from the comforts of my own living room. It'll probably sum up the entirety of this whole deal and outline all the positives that have come from it. Until then you'll have to endure my near bi-polar swings from positive and encouraging to "I can't believe people who do things this stupid actually remember to keep breathing" moments. Notice I didn't say the people are stupid, just the things they do. One thing is sure and constant though. God has been with me every step of the way. He has never given me more than I can handle. He has definitely helped me laugh at myself on many occasions. He's given me the courage to look at death and destruction and move on. He's also given me peace through it all. Peace is a very precious commodity right now, and I have more than I need. If anyone needs a little extra peace I'll give it to you for 500 dinar. As a little quiz does anyone know how much 500 dinar is worth? Answer in the comments if you know. All I know is that I don't know how people without God go through stuff like this? You can say I'm weak and need a crutch to lean on like God. And I'd probably say you're right. In fact I'm so weak I can't even prop myself up to lean on the crutch in the first place. I need a boost just to get to the crutch. Good thing Jesus is there to lift me up off the ground.

Anyway, my sanity wanes and clarity of thought eludes me. Disregard most of what I say but believe me when I say God is there for anyone who will receive him. Depression, addictions, failures, Cowboys fans, it doesn't matter. I guarantee if you try God on for size he'll fit and you'll never be the same. I dare you to try it. I double dare you. I Triple Dog Dare You.

Dear Congressman and Tax Payers

2005-06-25T03:14:00.000-05:00

Dear Congressman,

I would like to give you an update on the success of the IRR recall you authorized last year. I figure the best feedback you could use would be to compare the needs for the recall with the actual results of the recall. First and foremost the needs of the Army far outweigh any other form of logic in the known universe. It has always been this way and will always be this way. The recall was based on the needs the Army had in order to effectively and efficiently fight this war on terrorism. I am a patriot through and through and, if recalled again, would show up time and time again if the country needed me. However, the country doesn't need me. My job as a 98C Signals Intelligence Analyst is what is known as a "Critical MOS" (Military Occupations Specialty) There are just too few to fill all the slots the Army has. Since being recalled almost a year ago I have yet to even think about doing that job. Do you know what job I am doing now Mr. Congressman? I am guarding a detention facility, nay I am in charge of a detention facility. Not just any detention facility, but an Iraqi detention facility. I can count on Zero fingers the amount of training I've had to tackle such a sensitive assignment. I am the only American in the facility and ultimately responsible for the whole enchilada, or to be geographically correct the entire Kabob. The bulk of the job revolves around processing detainees on a computer. SO imagine my surprise when the American computer I was given to use was not compatible with the plugs in the Iraqi Prison. NO problem, they make adapters for just such instances. I went to our supply officer and asked for an adapter. I think the dialogue between us is best shared as it happened.

Eager to do the job I have no training for and have seen many of my fellow soldiers imprisoned themselves for not knowing the proper procedures I walk into the supply officer's office to request the adapter I need to plug the computer into the power at the detention facility.

"Sir, the computer I am required to use for my job needs an adapter to get power. Could I get one?"

"No, we don't have any, but you can go to Captain "Going to disappoint you" and he can give you money to buy one."

"Thanks Sir, I'll do just that."

knock knock "Sir I was told you may be able to help me get an adapter for the plug on the computer I have been ordered to use in a job I am completely unqualified for."

"Sure sergeant, you can buy them at the Haji shop here on post."

"Thanks Sir ,that is the most helpful advise I've ever gotten. I think you should be immediately promoted and lauded as the single most intelligent person on the face of the Earth. Could I get the money to carry out the most stupendous plan ever devised by a single person, ever?"

"No, you have to buy it yourself."

"I'm sorry Sir. I don't communicate on the same intellectual level you do, but I thought I heard you say I needed to pay for it myself?" I said as I had flashbacks of the time I was forced to pay for my own hotel room during the training for the job I'm not doing when the Army recalled me in the first place.

"That's right." He said with a dismissive wave as he turned his head to do whatever monumental world saving task he was tackling as I walked in.

"Sir, I'm not going to use my own money to fix a problem in a job the Army assigned me to do but didn't train me."

"That's fine."

"So, what your saying is I can sit there and read a book twelve hours a day, not do my job and it's OK because the Army isn't going to buy an adapter for the thousand dollar computer that will collect dust that the tax payers sacrificed and bought?"

"Yes, That's fine."

So to sum it all up the recall is working exactly as planned. Just like any other plan the military has devised as of yet. I just thought you might like the feedback for when you plan the draft.

Sincerely

SGT IRRSOLDIER

Sweet Sleep

2005-06-17T12:24:00.000-05:00

Oh sweet sleep, why dost thou elude me so? Dancing and flirting on the periphery of my consciousness, plying your wondrous wares just out of reach. Oh sweet sleep, why dost thou torment me so? Singing your sweet song in your barley audible tone for all but me. I would that thou wouldst open your bounty and pour your coveted gift upon my weary frame but for a moment. In your sweet comfort do I desire to be, embraced in your warm embrace but for a moment.

Alas, it is not to be.

You torment me with the promise of your sweet presence and then dash my hopes into a thousand pieces and cast them to the wind. You lull me with your sweet song, inviting me in only to turn a cold face as I approach. In vain I seek your comfort. In vain I wait for your rest. What must I do sweet sleep? What must I do? What price would suffice an exchange between us. Tell me now that I may pay it and be done. But trouble me no more cursed strumpet. I would that thou should leave me entirely than to tempt me to madness.

Alas, It is not to be.

Sweet sleep mocks me, laughs as it turns a deaf ear to my plea. Knowing my need and ignoring it all the same. I will hold out hope, no matter the cost. I shall one day find the embers of what we once had restoked to a blazing fire. Sweet sleep I will wait for your return. Oh yes, I will wait.

In other words I've been have trouble sleeping. Partly because of my roommate, and partly because I don't know why, I just can't sleep. I'll fall asleep for about a half hour and then I'm wide awake. I'll lay there, mad at my roommate for playing video games so late into the night, and hope sleep will come. It hasn't as of late. I talked with my roommate and he agreed to knock off earlier but I don't think that's the full problem. I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

Some Day

2005-06-15T07:02:00.000-05:00

I've started to let myself think about going home. Up until very recently I've sort of ignored the fact that this deployment would end and I'd be home some day. Probably some sort of defense mechanism or something, but I've just denied myself the thoughts of going home. I haven't given up hope or anything, just sort of put it on pause. The plan to leave the end of September early October has stayed pretty steady so I guess I can count on it enough to start thinking ahead. Woo Hoo. That puts me right at about three months before my responsibilities are done and then how ever long it takes to get home and out of the Army. Not that that really matters because I've been out of the Army once before and they seemed to find me anyway. Three months will be over before I know it though.

There is still a big question as to how I'll actually get out of the Army. I didn't come here with the Brigade I'm attached to. I came along as what they call a filler. I just showed up and they put me where they wanted me. Which, oddly enough, had nothing to do with the reason I was recalled. They told us they recalled us for our job specialty but I have yet to even think about doing my real job. No matter though. I think God wanted me to be here for entirely different reasons. Anyway back to the subject at hand. When the brigade came here they sent most of their stuff earlier in conexes. You know those big semi trailer looking boxes that sit out behind Wal-Mart. I didn't get to though. I carried all my stuff with me from the start. So now I have four duffel bags and a footlocker worth of stuff and you're only allowed to take two duffel bags back. The rest you put in a conex that may or may not show up in the states three to six months after you get home. I don't plan on sticking around that long to get my stuff back just to turn into the Army. The problem is that the Army issued me all this junk and I don't turn it in until I'm back in the states. They still haven't come up with a plan to get all the fillers and their stuff back home. I'm sure there is a plan at a much higher level somewhere, it just hasn't trickled down to my level yet. I'm not too worried about it though. Worst case scenario I put all my Army gear in a conex with the rest of the Brigade and have them give me a hand receipt for it. That way when it's time to turn in my gear I can tell them it's on a ship somewhere and here's the paper to prove it. That way I don't have to carry any stuff around. However it works out I know it will work out. Everything has so far.

I got two DVDs in the mail yesterday. The first one was the second half of my family's Christmas. The second one has misc stuff about my kids. I watched the Christmas one last night and I'll probably watch the other one in a day or two. It was good to watch but it was really hard at times. I didn't realize how emotionally disconnected I'd become. Again, I'm sure it's just a defense mechanism but it was good to see the family and have feelings for them. I think it'll be pretty easy to get back into the swing of family life. I've been fortunate in that I've had internet access pretty much everywhere I've been. I've been able to talk and instant message my family almost daily. Unlike the previous wars our country has had I've been able to sort of stay a part of my family's daily life in a small way. I hope that will help the reunion go a little smoother.

Just a few short months left, and there isn't a better time to leave Iraq than in the summer. It's been getting hotter each day. I think we were around 116 today. It's been really dusty too. There have been probably three or four dust storms in the last two weeks. You know the saying back in the States "Yeah, but it's a dry heat"? Well I think with the heat and the dust there should be a saying in Iraq, "Yeah, but it's a chewy heat." Not too much longer and I'll be able to take a shower without shower shoes, go to the bathroom in something other than a 200 degree green plastic box, Eat food that requires more than boiling to prepare, sleep in a room where nobody snores, nobody plays video games until 2 o'clock in the morning, and someone (not me) thinks they are a drummer so they slam drumsticks on their bed and stomp their feet as hard as they can on the floor for two to three hours at a time no matter how nicely you request them to stop and you feel the only options you have are to sleep outside or just shoot them and shooting them looks more attractive simply because your rifle is much closer than outside is, and the place I live doesn't smell like urine. Not to mention no longer worrying about being blown up, shot, kidnapped, tortured, catching some terrible disease from the water, or having to shoot merging traffic because they won't stop, or wondering which of the Iraqis are actually on your side or on the insurgent's side but the only way you'll ever know is if they shoot you or try to blow you up, or worrying that every car on the road is a bomb waiting to blow your convoy off the road. You know, just the simple things in life. That's all I ask. And you know what, some day I'll have it.

What's up my Homey?

2005-06-09T12:54:00.000-05:00

I know I haven't posted lately but it's been busy. Not the non stop busy that makes you pull your hair out, but just little spurts of busy throughout the day. Before I know it it's the middle of the night and I need to go to sleep. It's a good tempo though, it's making the days fly by. I don't really have anything important to say, I don't even have any witty garbage to fill a page. So I figure I'll just give you a few little tid bits of what I've been up to.

The weather is getting hotter. It's been about 108-109 with peaks around 112. I know it's going to get even hotter though. The summer where I live in the states gets into the low hundreds in the summer, but I expect 120-130 here when it really kicks in. The bugs are unbelievable. I counted the bites on my arms just now so I could give you a count. Right arm 27 left arm somewhere around 42. The left arm is harder to tell because there is this one little concentrated area on my elbow that I think a tiny bug landed on while I was sleeping last night and just went to town. The space is maybe two inches by two inches and there's around 20 bites just in that area. They're small and itchy and hard to count one from the next. Good news is that, unbeknownst to me, the Army has exterminators. In fact it was one of the guys I got recalled with and went through the initial training. He was spraying the common areas and I talked him into feeling sorry for a fellow IRR soldier and he sprayed our room today. Hopefully that helps. Between the bugs and the heat I haven't been sleeping very much, maybe 2-3 hours a night. I think that will change though. I cleaned the filter in the AC and we shut it off for a few hours today. Once I took the filter out we noticed that most of the inside of the unit was iced over. We let it thaw out and now it's really kicking some cold air. My hope is that the combination of spray and AC will chase the bugs away. These bugs aren't like American bugs. They know when you're swatting them away and when you're actually trying to kill them. The flys will let you touch them if they think you aren't trying to kill them. If they're on the table at dinner or something like that you can actually push them out of the way, but if you swing at them they'll fly away for a second. They're not shy like American flys. American fly are puny compared to these. I actually saw a fly give me the wing the other day.

I've been hitting the gym again too. I had started when I first got to Liberty but quickly faded out when I got my guitar. My energy level is a lot higher now that I'm working out again. We try to get into the gym 5 days in a row and then rest one to two days depending on what's going on. We've been playing a lot of basketball too. The people that know me know that I'm terrible at basketball, but it's different here. We play with the Iraqis who only know how to play soccer, and the goal is only eight and a half feet tall. It's really a cardio workout coupled with a few shots and a lot of laughs. It gets really intense though. It's fun.

I started e-mailing my company back in the States to give them a heads up that I should be back towards the end of the year. I also needed some information from them to plan my return. It's not going as smoothly as I had hoped but I know the whole shootin match is in God's hands and it'll all work out how it's supposed to.

Speaking of God, there's a Chapel here but no Chaplin. There's supposed to be a Chaplin here on Tuesdays from Liberty, but he's never made it here so far. He does come on different days sometimes but you don't know about it until he's here and ready for the service. So far I've only caught him once, and I was the only one in there. That particular time it was a Chaplin from a very formal background so instead of being like a one on one service he still conducted it very formally. It was a little odd, but a time to worship anyway. My wife and I are reading the same book of the Bible. It was her idea and we only started it this past week. I wish we would have thought of it sooner, not the reading part but the reading together part. I have been reading my Bible. Anyway, I really miss my home Church.

This deployment has really been just about as good as I could have hoped. Even still it's really wearing on me. I'm ready to be done with it. You know how in your job you can at least go home from it at the end of the day and get a little time from it. You can't in war. There really is no time that your not protecting yourself and your friends, or looking for the best spot to take cover if you're attacked, or looking at everyone around you and wondering if they're going to try to kill you, or wondering if that pothole is really just a pothole or if there's a bomb in it. It's not the actual fighting that wears you down, it's the anticipation of being killed while you're not fighting. At least in a fight you have a general idea who to shoot, or in what direction to shoot. It's the everyday wondering if a mortar is going to come over the wall, or a rocket. Now that we're in a FOB that we share with the Iraqi Army there's a lot of people walking around not in American uniforms. The problem is that they don't always wear the Iraqi uniform either. So now you have the added stress of trying to trust these guys, trying to get them to trust you, and here's this guy in civilian clothes with a vest on and you don't know if he's friendly or a suicide bomber. Those are the things that wear on me the most. In addition to this at the end of the day you don't clock out and go home to the Family. You do more of the same. You wonder what the explosions outside are, are they close enough I need to worry? Was that outgoing artillery or incoming? It's always there and you can never get away from it. A few more months and it'll all be over. In all actuality after a while you sort of ignore the explosions and the stuff that's not happening right around you. There's nothing you can do about it anyway. Keep focused on your job and trust that the guys around you are doing the same thing and it should be alright.

Well, that's about all I've got to say. I didn't really even plan on saying that much but it just sort of came out.

Thanks for all the e-mails and letters and packages. I can't tell you how much of a morale boost that stuff is. A letter or an e-mail or a package from home can turn even the worst day around.

Now that I've depressed you all you should go outside and take a deep breath of fresh air, or drink the non diseased water, or get a cookie out of the cupboard or use your running water and electricity, or make fun of George Bush or do any of these things just because your free and you can, and know that America is the best freaking place to live in the whole world bar none.

The Room

2005-06-01T02:52:00.000-05:00

Have you ever read a book or listened to a song, or heard a speech or sermon and said, "Man, that's exactly right, I've always known that, I've always thought that but I've never been able to put it into words." My wife forwarded an e-mail to me today. I have no idea where she got it, but it was one of those "Right On" type of things. I do the same thing most people do with forwarded e-mails. If it's not something with funny pictures or from someone who wants me to see a specific thing I delete it. Everyone does. I think it's one of the main reasons the delete key was invented. You did it with paper junk mail before computers, and you do it with electronic mail now. This one, however, was different. This entry says a lot of things I've tried to say or wanted to say but wasn't smart enough to put the words together correctly. So far my blog has been viewed over 7000 times. This is much more than I had thought it would be. The majority of it has been my experiences from the war and I've had a great time writing it. This entry is the one I hope people read if they only read one entry. It sums everything up in one short, powerful, concise story without all the extra fluff. I'll just let it speak for itself.

THE ROOM
17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write
something for a class. The subject was what Heaven was like. "I
wowed 'em," he later told his father, Bruce. "It's a killer.
It's the bomb. It's the best thing I ever wrote." It also was
the last.
Brian's parents had forgotten about the essay when a cousin
found it while cleaning out the teenager's locker at Teary Valley
High School.
Brian had been dead only hours, but his parents desperately
wanted every piece of his life near them-notes from classmates and
teachers, his homework.
Only two months before, he had handwritten the essay about
encountering Jesus in a file room full of cards detailing every
moment of the teen's life. But it was only after Brian's death
that Beth and Bruce Moore realized that their son had described
his view of heaven.
"It makes such an impact that people want to share it. You
feel like you are there." Mr. Moore said.
Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, the day after Memorial Day.
He was driving home from a friend's house when his car went off
Bulen-Pierce Road in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole.
He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed power
line and was electrocuted.
The Moores framed a copy of Brian's essay and hung it among
the family portraits in the living room. "I think God used him to
make a point. I think we were meant to find it and make something
out of it, " Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She and her husband
want to share their son's vision of life after death. "I'm happy
for Brian. I know he's in heaven. I know I'll see him.
Brian's Essay: The Room...

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself
in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the
one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the
ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in
alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor
to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very
different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first
to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I have liked." I
opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly
shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on
each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.
This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog
system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every
moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A
sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within
me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content.
Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and
regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if
anyone was watching.
A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have
betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright
weird. "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I have
Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed at." Some were almost hilarious in
their exactness: "Things I've yelled at my brothers." Others I
couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I
Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to
be surprised by the contents.
Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes
fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the
life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my
years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards?
But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own
handwriting. Each signed with my signature.
When I pulled out the file marked "TV Shows I have watched",
I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards
were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't
found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the
quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file
represented. When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts,"
I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an
inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I
shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such
a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me.
One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards!
No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In insane
frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I
had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end
and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single
card. I became desperate and pulled out a card only to find it as
strong as steel when I tried to tear it. Defeated and utterly
helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead
against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.
And then I saw it.. The title bore "People I Have Shared the
Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer,
almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more
than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the
cards it contained on one hand.
And then the tears came. I began to weep.. Sobs so deep
that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me.
I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the
overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in
my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I
must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the
tears, I saw Him.
No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I
watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the
cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments
I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper
than my own.
He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He
have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from
across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this
was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my
face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put
His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He
didn't say a word. He just cried with me.
Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at
one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to
sign His name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to
Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card
from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was,
written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus
covered mine. It was written with His blood.
He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and
began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how
He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him
close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand
on my shoulder and said, "It is finished." I stood up, and He led
me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were
still cards to be written.
"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."-Phil.
4:13 "For God so loved the world that He gave His only son,
that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal
life."

I'm Not Gonna Make It, Go On Without Me

2005-05-28T05:44:00.000-05:00

I got my first combat wound and had minor surgery yesterday. Before you get too concerned read this entire blog and then decide if you should be concerned or not. There are two versions to this story. The first is “The War version” that I’ll probably tell for the rest of my life, and the second is a much less interesting version I like to call “The actual truth”. Here goes.

So there I was, hanging off a rope from a Blackhawk thirty feet off the deck M-16 in one hand and a bowie knife in the other. A grenade dangling from my teeth. Explosions to the south and sniper fire from the north. We were in too far to turn back now. It was all or nothing.

Intell had pinpointed the location of an enemy weapons cache filled with anti aircraft guns and munitions. The infantry needed an Intell assessment of the cache so Major M and I were asked to tag along. The mission was expected to be low profile and go off without any resistance. The cache was an underground bunker from the Saddam days and was thought to be forgotten by the regime. The plan was to go in, get whatever worked and blow the rest in place. We just wanted to get to the weapons before they fell into the wrong hands. We knew there was enemy activity in the area but figured they hadn’t found the cache yet. The action was too hot to go in on the ground so air insertion was the only option. We would go in on two Blackhawks and repel from 30 feet to the drop zone. Blackhawks can’t defend themselves on the ground so they wouldn’t be landing for the insertion, only the extraction. We knew that would be the most critical point in the mission. Enemy resistance was expected to be minimal.

“2 minutes to target”, our headsets crackled to life. “Do your final checks.” The pilot gave us periodic updates in the monotone character of a seasoned war pilot. We’d done our pre combat inspections and were ready to go. We patted each other down right before climbing onto the cargo deck of the helicopter. Helmet, ear plugs, and eye protection were all good. 210 rounds of 5.56 mm ammo strapped to our body armor vests in 30 round magazines. Two Israeli bandages, one 4 inch and one 6 inch were each in our cargo pockets along with a new addition to our personal first aid kits, the one handed tourniquet. Medical research had recently change it’s mind about tourniquets. Before, they were a last ditch effort used only when there was no way to save the arm or leg they were tied to. Now the thinking is to stop the bleeding and just loosen it every once in a while and let the blood flow so you don’t kill all the tissue. I kept my 4 inch bandage and my tourniquet in my left cargo pocket and my 6 inch bandage in my right cargo pocket along with my shot record and extra dog tags.

“On Target.” We tossed our headsets aside and knelt by the door. Slinging our rifles over our backs we tossed the rappel ropes over the side. Adrenaline surging through our veins, we cinched our black leather gloves tight around our wrists and peeked over the edge of the helicopter to see what the ground was like below. Dead palm branches and trash covered most of the ground, a perfect hiding spot for booby traps. The last few feet of the ropes coiled in a pile on the ground. Drawing from the practice of hundreds of drops the pilot held the helicopter perfectly still as we grabbed our ropes and prepared for the quick slide down. Major M was already down his rope and running 20 meters out to get out of the prop blast and take up his spot on the perimeter. I was down the rope next. Half way down the slide I heard small arms fire to the north. The infantry guys from the other Blackhawk were already on the ground returning fire and suppressing the enemy when we heard a huge blast from the north. For a second the helicopter shook but the pilot made a few adjustments and it was rock solid. Less than a second later I was on the ground taking my place on the perimeter. The lead Blackhawk did a strafing run across the enemy position spitting spent casings and chain links all around us as they unloaded a reign of fire. Then, just as if someone flicked a switch, there was silence, just the sound of your own breathing and your heart pounding blood and adrenaline through every vein in your body. The Blackhaws flew off to a safe area and maintained a constant flight path until they were to return for the extraction. We scanned our sectors of fire searching for the slightest movement, staying low for a few minutes as we assessed the situation. The bunker was shielded by a small berm situated between us and the enemy, but we knew we didn’t have much time to mess around. We made our way to the small opening of the underground bunker using tactical movements we’d practiced dozens of times. One team would leapfrog the other while they provided cover in case the insurgents showed themselves. Our training kicked in and we didn’t even have to think about the movements, they came as naturally as breathing or walking. A well orchestrated symphony of military power. We got to the opening without incident.

The platoon leader from the infantry unit snapped a couple of chemlights, shook them to activate the green chemical light, and tossed them down the opening. All clear. The plan was for Major M and me to go in first, snap a few pictures and identify the weapons. We shimmied down the half collapsed entrance and fell onto a pile of old Russian 20mm anti aircraft guns. Cobwebs and mosquitoes thick as fog in every nook and cranny. We batted the dangling silk traps out of our way and coughed up a few lungfuls of dirt as we slid down the hole swatting the stinging intruders. Our eyes adjusted to the eerie green light of the chemical glow sticks as we unpacked our cameras and started our job. The guns were rusted and battered but at least one of them looked like it would still work, maybe two. We’d have to take them all just to be sure. There were hundreds of rounds laying haphazardly in the piles of tangled metal and discarded weapons. Most of the stuff was junk, but it only takes one to kill Americans. This was a good find. We crawled out of the hole as the infantry guys slid down and started passing weapons and ammo out of the hole. There was a clearing to the west where we set up a small perimeter watching and waiting as the infantry guys hauled the find into the circle of protection. We radioed the Blackhawks for a pickup in five minutes. So far we'd had no enemy contact since the air insertion. With two men per gun we could load all the weapons up in one trip and then one additional trip for the ammo. All said and done the Blackhawks would only need to be on the ground and vulnerable for a minute at the most.

The first chopper touched down as we were running the guns toward it. Major M and I had one of the 8 foot long 200 pound guns between us. He had the muzzle and was in the lead as I brought up the rear holding the firing assembly and feed mechanism. Someone flipped the switch again. Small arms fire everywhere. We could hear 50 cal sniper rifles echoing from across the banks of the Tigris and small explosions were walking their way toward us as they tried to get their mortars zeroed in. We had only a few seconds to get the stuff on the birds and get out. The Infantry guys started laying down suppressing fire as me and Major M took a squad and ran back for the ammo. One can a piece and we were in a dead sprint toward the screaming door gunner in the second Blackhawk. That’s when it happened. A small explosion shook the ground right at my feet. White hot pain shot up my leg as I stumbled but didn’t fall. I knew if I fell I’d be dead. I fought the pain and dove into the helicopter, ammo can and all. My feet still dangling out the door we were airborne. The door gunners were ripping holes into the terrain below with their big belt fed machine guns as I clawed my way into my seat and fastened the five point harness around my wounded body. Trees and body parts exploded in the trail of metal and fire as the door gunners hammered the insurgents relentlessly. We were away. I turned to Major M and told him I was hit. It was my left ankle. Shrapnel smoked through slashes in my desert tan boots. Slowly and carefully we peeled the boot back and saw the shrapnel lodged in my ankle near the Achilles tendon. I tried to pull it free with my fingers but it was lodged too tightly. I pulled out my trusty Gerber multiplier and gave the steaming chunk of metal a tug. Nothing, it must have been too jagged and was cutting into the soft tissue inside my foot. As we approached the FOB the pilot radioed the Medical center and told them we’d be landing there.

A few minutes later I was out of my body armor and helmet and laying face down on a gurney in the makeshift operating room on FOB Justice. The second of the two gurneys sat empty on a pair of sawhorses just waiting for the next wounded soldier. To the left was a stack of plywood cubby holes filled with neatly stacked medical supplies. A small desk in the corner with a few file folders stacked in the center. One lay open with a pen slowly rolling off the edge of the desk. The Doc must have been taking notes when we rushed in. A quick shot of lydacaine to deaden the pain and he was quick to work. He slowly and carefully started cutting the metal shards from my foot dropping them one by one as they pinged into the bottom of the metal pan. I was on my belly so I couldn’t look back to see what was happening but I could feel him working his way around my ankle and toward the bottom of my foot. The drugs had deadened the area enough that all I felt was the Doc’s fingers and instruments pushing and prodding with a few more pings in the metal pan. A few minutes later it was cleaned and bandaged. An antibiotic shot to my butt and it was all over. All said and done we had expended over two thousand rounds between the soldiers and the helicopter and captured three working anti aircraft guns, one RPG, and multiple cases of ammo.

Now for the actual truth.

Major M and I got into the little Nissan quad cab that we use to tool around on FOB Justice. We knew of an underground bunker on the FOB that had some old Russian anti aircraft guns. We wanted to take a look at them to see if it would be worth taking a few back to the states to put in a military museum. We flipped on the air and cranked the radio up to the Armed Forces Network while we retold exaggerated stories from our days in Mahmudiyah. A few minutes later we were parked in a mess of old dead palm branches and piles of garbage. About 20 meters away we could see the small opening of an underground bunker long abandoned. Under the watchful protection of the American guard towers we leisurely strolled toward the hole snapping pictures of the surroundings as we went. One of the guns was laying in plain view on the ground obviously discarded outside the bunker. We each took turns posing with it and set it aside. We slid down the half collapsed entrance onto a pile of discarded weapons and containers. Half of them were American garbage earlier units had thrown down there instead of having to deal with them as inventory. We hauled the three guns out of the hole and took some ammo cans and an RPG. One of the guns might have been operable if you knew what you were doing. The others were rusted and burned beyond saving. It looked like some of the rounds had been cooked off in the bunker years earlier and probably started a small fire. We grabbed our loot and carried it back to the truck one piece at a time. As we were carrying the second gun my right foot snagged on a dead palm branch and drove one of the tines into my left ankle. There was a momentary sting and I figured it had just poked through the nylon part of my desert boots. The uppers are just nylon and the lower part is actual leather. This makes the boot lighter and cooler in the desert atmosphere. I shrugged it off and kept working. About thirty minutes later we had the weapons loaded in a conex and were back in the office. My ankle was hurting a little bit so I took my boot off. Sure enough there was a splinter about the thickness of a small knitting needle sticking out of the skin just in front of my Achilles tendon. I tried to pull the sock off but the barbs of the spike were holding it to my skin. Major M was nice enough to just rip the sock off sending a momentary burning pain through my ankle. I tried to pull it out with my fingers thinking it was just a small splinter. I couldn’t get a good grip on it so I pulled out the Gerber. Even with the pliers I couldn’t pull it out. Each time I tugged on it the skin all around would lift up but the barbs on the inside wouldn’t let go. I figured this was now a job for a trained medical professional. I hobbled to the Nissan and Major M took me to the TMC (Troop Medical Center). I hopped up on the stretcher on my belly and the Doc took a look. “It’s in too far, I’m gonna have to cut it out.” “What, it’s just a splinter, pull it out.” “I can’t, the barbs on the thorn will rip the tissue in your foot.” Fortunately he numbed the area before he cut it out. The incision was too small for stitches so he put some antibiotic ointment on and wrapped it with gauze and a bandage. I asked if I could keep the offending thorn so he put it into a little Ziploc bag. One shot in the butt later I was on my merry way back to work. No worse for wear.

Of the two versions of the story I do think I prefer the War version.

He Shoots, He Scores. Gooooaaaaal

2005-05-24T03:53:00.000-05:00

Man, it's been busy and excited and hot the last few weeks. I've formed a pretty good friendship with some of the Iraqi guys that attend the classes we give. It's really cool to just sit around after the class and just talk about whatever. I've learned so much about their culture and about Saddam's Regime. You just wouldn't believe some of the stuff that went on. Last night they invited me and one of my American friends to play football with them. Of course we're Americans and we already used that name for a sport so we call it soccer. It's kind of like the metric system. It works really well for the rest of the world, but since we can kick the snot out of everybody, we use something different. Football (soccer) is like the national sport in Iraq and everybody plays it pretty well. Last night was no exception. Those guys are a lot younger and a lot more skilled than we were but it was a blast. It wasn't competitive like a pick up game would be in the States. For them it was a chance to hang out and bond. They were more than willing to let the unskilled Americans take the goal shots. It was pretty cool.

After that my roommate and I came back to our room to a disheartening silence where the hum of the air conditioner should have been. For about the last week our power goes out around 10:00 in the morning. We put in a work order to have it fixed and they fix it the next day at 9:30 a.m. like clock work. Then, like clockwork, it goes out again at about 10:00 a.m. and we sleep in the steeping heat of the Tigris river swatting bird sized mosquitoes and listening to the scamper of La Cooks running on the floor. At least when the air does work it's too cold for the mosquitoes and too loud to hear the cockroaches running on the tile floor. Every time we come back to our room it's with bated breath and nervous anticipation. Will the power be on, will it be off? Will the Cockroaches be sleeping in my bed or will they be gone? Will Heraldo ever be respected as a real journalist. All of our questions are answered with the turn of a key. Well, not the Heraldo one, He pretty much answers that one over and over again on his own. I just keep telling myself it's an adventure and it will soon be over. It feels kind of hypocritical to be complaining about no power and no air conditioning when you think about all the previous wars America has been involved in. This is probably the most comfortable one we've seen.

We came to FOB Justice just as another unit was pulling out. With them went their chaplain and all religious services. Today I saw someone in the chapel working and there was a sign saying they would start services again this Sunday. I guess they found a spare Chaplain. It'll be good to get back to church.

There has been a terrible case of diarrhea and stomach flu going around camp. Some people say it's the Iraqi food but I don't think it is. I've eaten quite a bit of it and I haven't gotten sick. I think it's the water. Some guys use it to brush their teeth and I think that's where it's coming from. I use bottled water for everything except showering.

Last time I wrote we had just been introduced to our terrible bathroom. We scrounged around some of the other buildings that the other unit was moving out of and found some scouring powder and some of those little green scrubbing cloths. I put on the black elbow length rubber gloves that come with the chemical protection suits the Army gives us and went to town. We scrubbed every square inch of that place. Since it doesn't have a real toilet, only a hole in the floor and a hose, we were able to direct the water from the hose just about anywhere we wanted it. Of course sometimes it went where we didn't want it but that's a whole other story. You wouldn't believe the difference. We have a standing agreement that under no circumstances does anyone use the toilet, just the shower and the sink. There's a row of port-o-podies outside the building that do just fine. If you hit them in the morning they have T.P. if you hit them too late you'd better have some baby wipes. With the stomach problems going around T.P. has been in high demand. I've seen evidence of some very desperate soldiers in the form of soiled socks floating in the port-o-podies used in the heat of the moment when no T.P. was available. I guess Rummie's quote about war also applies to bowel movements. "You go to the Port-o-podies with what you've got. Not what you want."

That's about all that's going on right now. If the plan holds I should be out of here in about four months. Then it'll just be some memories, a few pictures, and some good friends.

Oh yeah, there's a little debate going around about the new Star Wars movie. It'll come out on Haji DVD in a day or two but We're sure it's going to be bad quality. The debate goes something like this. The movie will probably not be in theatres anymore by the time we get home, so we're probably going to miss the theater experience all together. "We're probably going to miss the theatre experience. Why what is it? It's a big building where people watch movies, but that's not important right now." (If you've never seen Airplane then ignore the last little section) The question is this. Get a Haji version and possibly ruin that first time movie watching experience, or wait until we get home and watch it on regular DVD and miss out on that universal new release feeling. I talked with my wife and we decided to wait until I got home, but the temptation is strong with this one. We'll see what happens. By the way, don't tell me what happens, as if the outcome is a mystery.

Can't See the Bathroom for the Mold.

2005-05-13T05:32:00.000-05:00

Last time we left our hero he was living in a storage room in the basement of Saddam's old Intelligence building. No air conditioning, 7 guys and a strange unidentifiable odor. What will happen next? Will our hero finally get a room? Will he live in the basement forever? What is that smell. Tune in for the exciting conclusion of "Find Your Own Room in Iraq, No not that one."

On Wednesday we got the word we had a room in the back of the building behind the chow hall. We packed up what little we had unpacked and went to scope out the new digs. Not too bad, not the greatest but not too bad. By the time we walked back over to the storage room/ living area the plan had changed. I'll pause here while you recover from your surprise' he says steeping in a heavy layer of sarcasm. It seemed we were to stay in the storage room just a bit longer.

Thursday afternoon, after a pretty exciting training session with the Iraqis, we were told we now had a different room and needed to vacate the all important storage room by midnight. We hoofed it to our new room and walked into a little bit of a surprise. We had heard that these rooms had regular bathrooms with a shower, a toilet, and a sink. That would be cool. I haven't had a bathroom since being in Iraq though I am unexplainably fond of the port-o-podies. Do you remember the bathroom I had at Fort Hood? No? I'll jog your memory. Urine soaked towel and trash everywhere. Well it seems that the guys who lived at Fort Hood before me have some Iraqi cousins and I just moved into their place. The bathroom here makes that one look like a gourmet restaurant. There is a toilet but not a toilet like you think. Oh no. It's a hole in the floor with a little hose so you can rinse your business down the hole. I don't think the former inhabitants understood the concept of the hose though. There's years of dry crusted urine on the floor. I can picture it now. "Habib, Habib!"' he cries as he squats over the hole in the floor. "What do you think this silly looking tubular thing is sticking out of the wall? Look I can make water come out of it." "I don't know Achmed, but hurry up I need to pee all over the floor too you know!" It seems aim was not one of their strong points. Volume however was. The shower doesn't have a curtain or doors on it, it's just a shower head and, once I scrape the mold off, I think there's a drain pan under the shower head. The sink, oh the sink. It reminds me of a beautiful hike I once took in Texas through a moss bog. The surprising thing was that none of it smelled badly. Well, until we turned the water on and got it wet. Dried urine doesn't seem to have a smell to it but get it wet and you could burn the nose hair out of a fisherman. I almost threw up but I think the vomit was too afraid to touch the floor so it decided to stay inside where it was nice and safe. The bad part of all this is that this is a really small FOB and there are no cleaning supplies to be had anywhere. There is also a little problem having to do with the lock on the door. Or should I say the lock that should be on the door.

When we were told what room to go to there was a phrase that caused me to pause for a second and just shake my head.

"When you get to your room it may or may not have a lock on it. If there is no lock then the Army will not be held responsible for anything stolen because you did not secure your room. Any questions?"

Well yeah, I have a few. "Who's responsibility is it to provide a lock for the door?"

"The Army's"

"So just to get this straight if the Army fails in it's responsibility to provide a lock and my stuff is stolen then it's my fault for not locking the lock the Army didn't provide?"

"Correct"

"Then would I be allowed to not go to work until either the Army provides a lock or until we go home?"

"Yes."

These are your tax dollars at work here ladies and gentlemen. I can be recalled from my civilian life and do nothing but sit in a room and guard my own stuff until it's time to go home.

"Grandpa tell me the story of when you were in the war."

"Well sweetheart, I moved some of my stuff from America to Iraq and sat in a room watching it until we went home."

"Oh, Grandpa, you're a hero. That's my favorite story, can you tell it again?"

"Well sweetheart, ........"

They did however install a lock so all would seem to be alright. Right? Wrong. The lock they installed has but one key. There are four guys to a room and they each work completely different schedules. So all that accomplished was to keep everyone out of the room including three of it inhabitants. Make another key you say? A capital idea. However nobody can do it. Little FOB remember. Fear not, I'm a handy little dude so I acquired a hasp and installed it on the door. Now we have a combination lock from one of the guy's duffel bags and the room is secured. Fear not Army my room is now locked, you can rest assured that if my stuff is now stolen I will allow you to pay for it all.

We spent Thursday evening into Friday morning lugging our crap from the storage room in the basement to the top floor of an entirely different building. This is a small FOB until you carry all your stuff from one end of it to the other for the second time.

Next time a convoy goes to liberty one of us is going to jump on it and get some keys made and pick up some cleaning supplies. Especially rubber gloves. Where's crazy bathroom lady when you need her?

On a more positive note this was the first week for the training with the Iraqi intell guys. It went very well. These guys are so excited to learn anything we have to show them. They treat every subject like it's the very information that will not only keep them alive, but also lead their country to freedom. You almost can't stop the class at the end because they want to learn more. Most of them are in their late teens or early twenties. Much like the American Army. It almost makes me embarrassed for Americans. If you put the same number of Americans from the same demographic together for the same reason you'd be hard pressed to get them to even pay attention. They'd be way too cool for school. On the contrary, these guys are so eager to learn there was even one guy who had scheduled some leave and was going to cancel it so he didn't miss any of the classes. We told him we would be here for a while and would catch him up on anything he missed. It's very exciting working with them and very validating. It almost makes up for the crusty urine.

One way the Iraqis show honor and respect is to invite you to eat with them. Food is a very important part of their culture. I'm pleased to say they've invited us to eat with them a few times already. The other day I had a dish they call Coobba. It's a yellow ball the size of a baseball. They make a paste out of something very similar to chick peas by grinding them up and adding some oil and water. Then they make a cup from the paste in their hands. They fill the cup with ground meat and onions and spices. Then they put more paste around the ball to close it off. I think they bake them to cook them. The paste gets firm but not crispy. They brought them in a pot with a red sauce and dipped them out onto plates. They also had many different plates with pickles and cucumbers and tomatoes on them. You eat everything with your hands and some flat bread similar to a pita. They serve the bread hot and sometimes use it to pick up the food. It was very good. Some of the guys have had some trouble because the sanitary standards aren't the same as ours, but I haven't had any trouble yet, knock on moldy porcelain.

I've put a few more pictures up on the photo album and made a new page called "FOB Justice". I'll post some more later this week. Hopefully the rest of the training will go as well as this week has.

Wagons Ho!

2005-05-09T10:34:00.000-05:00

On the afternoon of May 7th I moved to my new home at FOB Falcon. It’s pretty cool here. It’s smaller than Victory but it has established buildings. It also overlooks the Tigris river. This means grass and tress as opposed to the dusty barren desert of camp Victory. There’s also roads and sidewalks instead of foot trails beaten into the desert dirt. The trip here was pretty much uneventful. When we got here we fully expected to move into the rooms we had scouted out on a previous trip. They’re sort of dingy third world out of a movie kind of rooms. The paint is peeling off the 13 foot ceilings and there is a make shift fan with a missing blade loping in a lazy circle overhead. One wall was just windows with a panoramic view of concrete barriers set right in front of them. They are kind of cool in a 'just visiting wouldn’t want to live here forever' way. They have a bathroom in each room, well sort of. It’s a concrete room with a hole in the middle. It has a sink a toilet and a pan in the corner with a shower head over it. The shower isn’t enclosed or anything and the toilet is literally cemented to the floor. It looks like someone punched a hole in the floor, set a toilet down and mixed a bucket of cement around the edges of the toilet. I guess it’s OK as long as the guy living above you doesn’t have a similar setup. So I say we fully expected to move into these rooms because that’s what the plan was. If there’s one thing to count on in the military it’s don’t expect to follow the plan, especially if officers are involved.

My new assignment involves training the new Iraqi Army intell guys. I’m pretty excited about it because there are very few of us involved in the project. That means I should, if all goes as planned, (see above comment about plans) actually make an impact on the history of Iraq. Good or bad remains to be seen, but an impact none the less. This is a project that has been evolving for some time before I was actually plugged into the mechanics of it. Now the plan is in full swing and is drawing attention. Of course wherever attention is to be drawn you can rest assure the normal enlisted Army guys are obviously fully incapable of handling it, even though they got it to the point where the attention was drawn. Cue the officers. There was an entourage of brass through here today who decided that our rooms were perfect for them and we would have to find shelter elsewhere. The problem is that there is no elsewhere. Those chuckles were never part of the original plan so now there are more bodies than there are rooms. When there are officers and enlisted with a shortage of rooms guess who gets stuck holding the “go find your own room” end of the stick. So right now six of us are living in a storage room in the basement of one of Saddam’s old buildings while they try to unscrew the mess they’ve made. The door doesn’t lock so we have to have someone in the room 24/7 to keep an eye on our stuff. It’s not all bad though, it’s got a nice homey feel to it and it’s pretty spacious. We just pretend we’re special forces and we just commandeered a building for our use. We don’t actually pretend that but it was fun to think about. We’ll wait and see what tomorrow brings.

This place was some sort of military installation under Saddam’s regime. There are a few buildings here and there and even a big outdoor swimming pool. There’s no water in it but it has potential. There was talk of hiring a contractor to maintain the pool but I don’t think that’ll actually pan out. There aren’t enough American’s here to entice KBR to sign any contracts so we eat Army chow. It’s really not that bad though. Three meals a day compared to the one meal a day in Mahmudiah. There’s a small gym and a computer lab run by the Army. There are a few Haji shops but no phone centers. There are some phones in one of the Haji shops that the guy charges you 35 cents a minute. He’s also got a few computers you can use for $2.00 an hour. The Army ones are free and they’re faster than what I had in my room at Victory. You can get the phone cards for the cell phones here so I’ll end up using those. I was sad to see my internet connection go. That was my main means of communication with my wife. Hopefully we’ll be able to work out a schedule when I can go to the computer lab at the same time she can get on-line. That way we can chat on Yahoo. I don’t think they let you use a web cam in the Army internet café though. I let a guy take the cat5 cable from my room to use while I’m here with the understanding I get it back if I go back to Victory. The plan is to stay here for the rest of the rotation and leave the country from here. What a glorious day that will be.

What else? I shipped some Iraqi snickers bars back to my wife to taste test and pass out to a few people. It was sort of a test to see how they traveled before I bought them by a case size and shipped them. It seems snickers bars don’t travel well in the mail from the desert. She said by the time she got them they were hard and crumbly. I had a few here like that and they just sort of loose that special something. Oh well, you’ll just have to take my word for it.

I’m sure some exciting things will happen working here with the Iraqis. I’ll keep you posted on what I can. Oh yeah, it’s mosquito and sand flea season and all I can say is crap. I’ll try to post some pictures on the photo album later this week.

Dude, Where's My Humvee?

2005-05-02T12:15:00.000-05:00

The "Army Law of Efficiency" wasn't a rousing hit. Here's one that should be a little easier to follow.

About a week ago it really stormed here. It rained all day and night so the next day it was really muddy. It doesn't get muddy like in the states where it's thick dirty mud, it gets really slippery muddy here. The roads around Camp Victory are all dirt and some gravel. The dirt's real fine so when it gets wet it makes a paste first and then when it's fully wet it starts to turn to mud. So this was about the time when it was turning from slippery paste to full blown mud.

The Humvee we drive on post most of the time doesn't have any doors on it. It only has a cloth roof over the driver and passenger seat. The whole back end is just open to the elements. It was lunch time and shift change time. Usually the guy from the shift before me goes to lunch with us before we drop him off to go to bed. So,the Humvee had been sitting out in the rain overnight and the roof was bowed in with a big puddle of water. The shift change guy got into the driver's seat and as I was getting into the passengers seat he decided he should push up on the roof to get all the water off. Almost all of it ran off the roof, down the front of my body, and right onto the passengers seat. So my whole front was wet but my backside was dry. Looking down at the seat now filled with water I shot him a dirty glance as he laughed his head off. The operator's manual in a Humvee is in a three ring binder. It's fairly water proof so I put it on the seat and sat on that. We went on to lunch slipping and sliding all over the place. 4-Wheel drive is cool until all four wheel start spinning. Of course we didn't try to stop it. One of the perks of war is you can drive pretty much anywhere you want and run over pretty much whatever you want to. Curbs, hills, insurgents, it doesn't really matter. So we get to lunch, eat and exit the chow hall without incident. I dropped Mr. Shiftchange off at his trailer and headed back to work. He had used the "sit on the manual" trick also, but left the manual on the seat. As I'm slipping and sliding all over the road I look over just as the manual flies out the door. Oh well, I'll just pull over and grab it. I stop the Humvee on the side of the road and pull the emergency brake. Humvee's don't usually have park in the transmission. You just put them in neutral and set the hand brake. Little did I know but I had pulled just far enough over to get the passenger side wheels on the edge of the road that slopes off into a ravine. No sooner had I set foot on the ground then the Humvee starts to slide sideways down the embankment. Some guys were driving by and loudly and obviously laughed as my Humvee slipped right down into the gully next to the road. It wasn't like I'd be able to grab it and stop it so all I could do was watch it slide down the little hill hoping against hope it didn't roll over. "Umm, SGT. Where's my Humvee?" "Sorry First SGT but I left it in a ditch upside down." Standing there with a grimace on my face and hands clinched in anticipation I sighed with relief as it came to rest at the bottom on all four wheels. It took some wheel spinning and mud slinging but I muscled the Humvee back up the berm and slid my way back to work. No harm, no foul, just a muddy operators manual and a huge smile on my face. Next time it rains I think I'll try it again. It was a lot of fun in retrospect. You just gotta love the Army. Where else can you get paid to go four wheeling with a high powered semi automatic rifle? Oh yeah, they pay for the gas too.

The "Army Law of Efficiency" patent pending

2005-04-26T17:25:00.000-05:00

If you like nice tidy logical progressions in your reading you may want to skip this blog. This is a satire of the efficiency of the Army.

There's a common phrase in the Army that goes a little something like this. "If the Army wanted you to have _________ they would have issued it to you." You can fill in the blank with just about anything. An opinion, a wife, common sense. You name it and it fits. Things like this lead me to the only logical conclusion there is. Number one, If there is any conceivable thing in life that I need the Army would have issued it to me. Number two, If the Army did in fact issue something then it must be important and it must be used to it's fullest capacity.

There is also a method used by the Army for teaching that involves three parameter. Task, Condition and Standard. As long as you can force your idea to fit into this pattern it must be useful and therefore must be taught to every soldier because it must be valid because it fits the model. For instance the dreaded PT test

Task: Conduct a PT test.

Condition: Given a soldier, a stopwatch, a marked two mile course and a grader;

Standard: Conduct a PT test consisting of two minutes of pushup, two minutes of sit-ups and a timed two mile run.

That's the model. However, according to the Task Condition and Standard all your measuring is the ability to successfully administer a PT test. You aren't showing that a soldier is fit or unfit, only that you can perform the task to the given standard.

So I came up with a concept I call "The Army Law of Efficiency." It started at dinner chow tonight. As you walk out of the Chow hall there are two Third Country National men who stand at the trash cans where you throw your plastic plate and plastic silverware along with any uneaten food into any of the multiple trash cans lining the little walkway. When a trash can is full these guys take it to one of thirteen dumpsters behind the chow hall. As we were walking out today I said, "I wonder how much trash we generate from the chow hall each day?" An understandable question. One of the guys I was walking with has had trash detail before. This is where you escort a garbage truck around and make sure they do what they're supposed to do. So he says' "I don't know about in a day, but after Lunch chow there are always seven full dumpster." According to the Army theory if they issued thirteen dumpsters by God we'd better use thirteen dumpsters. I'm sure there was a committee put to task to find the correct number of dumpsters to place behind the chow hall. If we only needed seven dumpsters then there would have been only seven dumpsters. No more no less. I can draw only one conclusion. We aren't generating trash efficiently enough to fill the required thirteen dumpsters. Being the keen analyst I am I decided I should figure out how we can better utilize the empty dumpster space. After all if we don't fill them then we're just letting the country down. Now all I have to do is force my round idea into the square Army model that must be the best or the Army would have issued a round model for me to use.

Later in the evening while I was perusing the latest port-o-pody nuggets of wisdom scratched on the walls of my favorite plastic cubicle of relief it hit me. Since the Army obviously knows what they're doing in all matters and there is an obvious garbage shortage happening in the chow hall dumpsters, there must be a surplus somewhere else.

At the fuel point we have a certain undisclosed number of fuelers with diesel fuel. It's sort of like a little self serve gas station out of the back of a few big trucks. I know for a fact that we have too many fuelers and some of them go unused. They just sit there with fuel in them. Why did we bring too many fuelers? We couldn't have brought too many fuelers. That's how many fuelers the Army says we need. So, if the Army issued that much fuel we should, according to standards, use that much fuel. Obviously we aren't using the proper amount of fuel. So I figure at the end of the day whatever fuel wasn't put into vehicles and generators should be dumped into the dumpsters thereby alleviating both problems. The total amount of issued fuel is used per day, and the total amount of issued dumpster space is used. The beauty of the Army Law of efficiency is in the simplicity. You really just have to sort of stand back a smile while it works it's magic. A simple solution you would say but faulty on one point. This assumes the fuel is allocated per day. One of the guys I shared this theory with threw the wrench in the works by saying, "What if the fuel is allocated per week and not per day?" This threw me for a second, but I do, after all, have a fool proof model with which to work.

The solution is simple. Monitor the fuel usage for one month. At the end of the month take the average amount of fuel left over at the end of each of the four weeks and divide that by seven. This would give you an average amount of surplus fuel per day to dump into the dumpster. Problem solved you might say. You'd be wrong. As we get to the end of the deployment we would use less fuel as we would go on fewer patrols. This would shift the entire equation. Not a problem though. If you apply the newly invented Army Law of Efficiency you would come up with the obvious answer.

As the patrols dropped off the amount of fuel used would drop but we wouldn't have accounted for this in the previous weeks. The only solution is to have more fuel on hand to make up for the fuel we should have thrown away in the earlier months. However this would probably fill more than the issued thirteen dumpsters. So along with the extra fuel we would need extra dumpsters also. Now don't you feel dumb for not seeing that right away. This would be the most efficient way to deal with the lack of dumpster use that would have gone grossly undealt with had I not applied the simple universal truth of The Army Law of Efficiency.

Task: Implement The Army Law of Efficiency to all aspects of the Army within five years

Condition: given myself, a small handpicked team of experts, one Million dollars a year per person, and 15 years;

Standard: successfully implement the Army Law of Efficiency to all aspect of the modern military within the five year time frame.

Notice I built in an extra ten years in the condition portion for an extra buffer. That's the beauty of the Army Law of efficiency. As long as you can put it into a Task, Condition, Standard format it doesn't matter what you say. It has to be the truth. Of course once the plan is put in place problems will arise and need to be dealt with. That's where I cash in on the Fat government subcontracts to train the Efficiency task forces needed to ensure the Army Law of efficiency is correctly followed. This is gonna be great!

Random Junk About Nothing

2005-04-23T09:58:00.000-05:00

Here are a few things I think are funny but the Army doesn't

When saluting an officer it's proper to give the greeting of the day. Some examples are "To the Regiment" or "Courage and Fidelity". If you don't know or can't remember the greeting of the day "What's up my Homey" is not a suitable substitute.

It seems that the war on terrorism is in fact not a sneaky recruitment ploy to boost the numbers for the VFW.

Combat earplugs are for combat and not for briefings.

"That's your opinion" is not a proper response to a direct order.

Even if your Commander is quite a bit shorter than you it seems there is never an occasion where it's appropriate to rub his head and make a wish.

Even if, on paper, you do turn a profit you are not authorized to sell Humvees on e-bay. Especially not in Bulk.

Anyway, Nothing much exciting going on here. It's just been a while since I posted anything and I was sitting in the port-o-pody this afternoon and came up with these so I thought I'd share them. Spring has arrived in Iraq. We topped out today at 103 Degrees. With the wind chill factor it felt about 115. I don't think wind chill works in reverse but you get the idea.

I have almost nothing to say. I will be moving again though. From the time I first deployed until now this will be the tenth time I've moved. Unless you count durations under a week, than it's like the 15th. I kind of like it though. It sort of breaks it up into smaller more manageable pieces. However I get more junk each stop and it gets harder to consolidate it all to move.

You'll be happy to know that I will get my new helmet next week. It's been here for a while but for some reason next Tuesday is the most convenient time for me to get it. The only reason I'm even getting it is because someone else who got here months after I did got theirs in but they had to leave for emergency leave and won't be coming back. So I get theirs. Mine must be in Limbo and I'll get it at my next duty station.

Enough rambling. I actually have things to say but they'll have to wait for a while.

Just know all is well here.

I'm pretty excited about my next move and once I do it I'll tell you more about it.

I miss my Family more than usual the past few days. It goes in cycles. I assume it must be the same for them. It sure makes you appreciate them more.

Oh well, enough babbling there are guitars that need playing.

A Crazy Lady Lives in Our Bathroom

2005-04-13T06:37:00.000-05:00

I've been back at Liberty for three days now. A few trailers down from mine are two trailers that sit back to back. One has toilets and sinks in it, and one has showers and sinks. These trailers are cleaned daily by a 40-50 something Filipino lady who is rumored to give soldiers "Change for a twenty" if asked. Though I've never tested the theory, nor do I plan to, I don't believe it to be true. Early on in our deployment there were two women named Fat Nora and Skinny Nora who would give soldiers "Change for a twenty." They promptly found their way to the infamous Abu Ghraib prison. So if the Crazy bathroom lady actually did give "Change for a twenty" I think she would be gone by now. Anyway, during these three days back the need to use the toilet trailer while in it's immediate vicinity has presented itself exactly four times. Of those four times She has been in the trailer all four times. Odd? Maybe not if I went at exactly the same time each day. However the times have been staggered to represent many different frames of time. Even less odd would be if she was actually cleaning each of the times. So far she hasn't been cleaning any of the times.

The first time I saw her she was just sitting on a stool relaxing. I trotted up the stairs ready to use a real toilet for the first time in about two month and there she sat.

She looked up with a smile and said, "Meester, Meester, is OK. You use. You use." and pointed to the open urinals about two feet from where she sat. With a polite shake of my head and wave of my hand I opted for the port-o-podies at the end of the row.

The second time was later that same evening. There she was again. Cleaning? No. Eating! She was just sitting on the stool with her food spread out on the counter where all the sinks are. Keep in mind that in the next row of trailers is the female latrine trailers. Why, if she wants to live in a bathroom, does she not pick those? Anyway, the same Meester Meester speech. Though the urinals are open to God and everyone there are doors on the toilet stalls so I figure what the heck. If she wants to eat her dinner while I lay my MREs to their final resting place that's her choice. So I went. That was day one.

Yesterday I woke up bleary eyed with an all to familiar pressure on my bladder. I put some shoes on and hobbled to the bathroom. There she was again. Cleaning? No.... Eating? No.... Sleeping! She was just sprawled out on the stool leaning half on the wall half on the counter in full snore. Well, You gotta do what you gotta do. So I went again.

Today, not five minutes ago, last nights lasagna came a knockin'. Do da Do da Do I trot to the crazy lady's house and sure enough there she is just sitting on the stool. I guess it's just going to be that way. I just hope she doesn't take her summer vacations in the shower trailer.

Woo Hoo

2005-04-11T07:01:00.000-05:00

I'm back at Camp Liberty. I did have a good time at FOB Mahmudiah though. I haven't had a day off in over two months, and I haven't slept in over 36 hours. I asked for and was granted the next two days off.

Without further adieu I am going to sleep.

Hello

2005-04-07T03:51:00.000-05:00

Hello to my new friend at Dartmouth. Hello to L.A. whose husband is stationed at FOB Kalsu here in Iraq. Hello to my friends and family, and Hello to the crazy Iraqi man who keeps calling my cell phone.

Since I posted an e-mail address on my blog I've gotten so may e-mails. I figured more people were reading the blog, I just never heard from them. Most of them say they either couldn't post a comment, or they didn't feel comfortable posting one in the public view. Rest assured I am the only one reading the e-mails that are sent to the link down by the photo album. It's been really cool to "talk" to these new people and know they care enough to take a few minutes to send me an e-mail.

Now, about the crazy Iraqi man on the cell phone. I've spent the whole morning trying to convince this guy that I don't speak Arabic, and he has the wrong number. The first time he called I thought it might be my wife. It would have been the middle of the night for her so I thought there might be some sort of emergency. You know how your mind jumps to conclusions. Maybe my son microwaved the cat. Maybe the house is on fire. Maybe I got orders in the mail recalling me into the Army. Oh, that really happened. When I flipped the phone open and said hello this guy starts in at about a hundred miles an hour. I politely interrupted him, in English, to tell him he had the wrong number. He said something that I thought I recognized but then started in again. I couldn't get him to stop, so I hung up. A few minutes later the same thing. He's called probably 20 times and it's always the same thing. The last time I decided I'd try to carry on the conversation. I have free incoming minutes and he really seemed like he wanted to talk so what the heck.

He starts in with his side of the conversation and I listen until he stops. Then I say, "I don't understand you, I only speak English." Then in slow drawn out English there's the phrase he kept saying that I recognized. "NO, LISTEN!", he says and then goes on in Arabic again. I tried to interrupt him a few times but he would get mad and would yell, "NO, LISTEN!" And then he would continue. I have no idea what he wanted or if I unknowingly committed to something for someone else, but after I listened he stopped calling. Weird huh?

Anyway, thanks for the e-mails. Keep them coming. If you already know me you can feel free to use names in the e-mails. Not comments here on the blog, but in the e-mails. If you don't know me but want to use your name feel free. I won't use mine though.

Thanks again

Alas Poor Magazine, I Knew Him Well

2005-04-04T05:32:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I took a little trip back to FOB Liberty or Victory or whatever they're calling it these days. We had a few meetings we had to go to. While I was there I had a little extra time and decided to take a trip to the PX. Ohhhhh real merchandise, real cashiers, real magazines. I was giddy with excitement. I could hardly contain myself. I ran from shelf to shelf looking at all the wears I could buy to heighten the enjoyment of my deployment. There it was, high on a dusty shelf alone and calling my name. The latest issue of Guitar Player magazine. The world stopped, lights shone on the shelf and all the soldiers stopped what they were doing and simultaneously joined in the Hallelujah Chorus. It brought a tear to my eye. It was the only copy. Quickly in a calculated manner I deftly snatched the much coveted copy and popped smoke (military jargon for got the heck out of there). In a rush of reality the solders stopped singing and the lights went back to normal as I found myself in the longest line I've ever been. No problem, I've got a magazine to pass the time. No, I better save it for a more opportune moment. As the line wore down I thought of all the happiness and joy this magazine was going to bring. The lessons I would learn and the reviews of gear and equipment that would make my guitar playing life so much more enjoyable. Finally only a few more people and it would be my turn.

"Attention shoppers, the Debit and Credit machine have gone down. We can only accept cash."

Shot down in my prime. The world went black, my chest tightened. All the soldiers laughed and pointed and chanted, "You'll shoot your eye out, You'll shoot your eye out." Wait, that was a movie, never mind that part. Dejected and down heartened I looked into my cashless wallet, my new wallet by the way because of the port-o-pody incident, and gently place the magazine on a display and walked out to continue my unfulfilled magazineless life.

Later that same day........

One of the guys I used to work with at Liberty needed to get his hair cut. I still had a few hours before our convoy left to go back to Mahmudiah so I tagged along. The PX is right next to the barber shop. There was still a chance at guitar reading bliss.

There it was, just as I'd left it. Jimi Hendrix looking right up at me in all his Rock and Roll glory. The magazine would be mine, oh yes, it would be mine. The line had doubled. The entire coalition force was in the PX that day. At least 300,000 people give or take 299,900. I waited in line, paid, put the magazine into my cargo pocket and stole my exit. Sitting in my old office I couldn't fight off the temptation to read the magazine. However, I really wanted to save it for when I was back at Mahmudiah. There just isn't anything to do but sleep, work and play guitar. I needed something to fill the time between. There was only one thing I could do. Put it on top of the filing cabinet and walk out of the room. I left it next to my Body armor and helmet so I wouldn't forget it.

Even later that day.....

Our convoy pulled back into Mahmudiah and we fueled the trucks back up before heading to the motor pool. We had gotten as many plates of food from the chow hall as possible for the guys at Mahmudiah. The food at Mahmudiah isn't bad, there just isn't much of it and there's even less variety. We walked in to some very hungry and grateful soldiers. We had gotten sandwiches and pizza, two things you can't get in FOB Mahmudiah. Not much was going on so I decided now was the time to read the magazine. I took off my gear, sat down at the computer and reached into my cargo pocket. Not there, Frantically I searched the other pocket and then the truck. Finally I realized what had happened. In my haste to get back with the convoy I'd left the magazine right on top of the filing cabinet in Liberty. I guess it just wasn't meant to be.

Alas poor magazine, I knew him well.

E-mail

2005-04-02T13:55:00.000-05:00

The comments don't really roll in like they used to. Maybe you're just timid to have everyone read what you have to say. Not a problem. If you look over by the link to the photo album you will see a new link that says "EMAIL ME!" click that and see what happens. If it works like I think it will you should be able to send me an e-mail. I'll check tomorrow to see if anyone actually cares that I'm here risking my life to fight for the very freedom you sleep under at night. Not that you should feel pressured to e-mail or anything.

Tonight I had the best dinner I've had since I've been deployed. They had a row of BBQ pits outside the chow hall tonight and they cooked the most tender juiciest steaks I can remember eating. We also had pecan pie. I think Disneyland has some stiff competition from FOB Mahmudiah for the happiest place on earth.

Anyway, drop me an e-mail if you don't feel like leaving a comment.

The Adventures of Cody Badger Part 2

2005-03-28T16:36:00.000-05:00

This is the second installment of The Adventures of Cody Badger, and I think it will be the last for now. I started it to get some of this out of my head. Just processing it into a story did the trick. I'm not saying Cody is gone forever, I just don't need him anymore right now. This is violent, graphic and contains profanity so consider yourself warned. Please don't let you kids read this until you have. This story and everyone in it is completely fictional. It is based on actual events but it is all made up.

"Badger, Badger, G** D*** it, get that 50 going"

I new somebody was yelling, but it just didn't make sense.

"Badger, are you listening, they're shooting at us, kill em!"

I knew they were yelling, I just couldn't hear them. All I could hear was the ringing in my ears. I was looking straight down the gunners hatch in our Humvee at Schmidt. He was pounding on my leg yelling but I couldn't figure out what was going on. I could see the intensity in his face, I just couldn't make any sense of the words.

I was the gunner in the last Humvee of a four truck convoy. Steve was the gunner in the third truck, and Tanner, one of the guys from our unit, was the gunner in the second truck. The lead truck was a group of MPs providing security for our convoy. We were on our way to raid the house of a target we had been working on for some time.

All of the sudden the sound flooded back in my ears like a rush. There was shooting on both sides of the road. Fire and smoke in front of us, and everyone was yelling. We needed to get out of there fast.

"Go, Go, Go" I shouted as I slammed my fist on the roof of the Humvee. "They're shooting at us!" It was an ambush. As soon as I said it I knew we couldn't. The fire and smoke in front of us was a Humvee. An American Humvee. Everything came back into focus. The blast, the gun fire, the screaming. One of the Trucks had hit an IED. The blast dazed me for a second but it all came back into sharp view. I saw Steve's truck in front of us but the gunners hatch was empty.

"Steve!" I yelled hoping he would pop up a start shooting

"Steve!"

His gun wasn't firing.

"Steve!" I couldn't see him in his hatch. The hood had been blown off of his truck, but people were firing out the windows. Somebody was alive in there.

"Badger, shoot the F****** 50 cal!" Schmidt kept pounding on my leg as he was shooting out his window.

Pop pop pop, I fired a burst toward the gun fire. I wasn't sure who was shooting yet, but they were shooting at us. Bullets were pinging off the armor on our Humvee, and it looked like one of the tires was flat.

Pop pop pop, another burst. I was coming back out of the initial shock of the blast. My mouth tasted like copper. I ran my hand across my face. Blood.

Pop pop pop, I saw the guy out of the corner of my eye. He had a bead on Steve's truck and was firing his AK-47 towards the gunners hatch. I spun my turret toward him as I saw his bullets walk up the road and then up the back of the Humvee as he tried to find his mark.

Pop pop pop pop pop, I fired a long burst and walked the shots up toward his body. He turned his head just as the last few 50 caliber rounds ripped into his hip and tore into his chest.

"Holy S***!" It literally ripped him in half. His head and arms flew back away from his torso as his lower body just slumped into a pile on the ground.

"S***!" I'd never shot anyone before. Ping, ping, ping. I didn't even have time to feel the shock before more bullets ricocheted off the coupola around the hatch I was standing in.

Pop pop pop, they were all over on both sides. Two more insurgent ran out to avenge their friend. Another long burst and both of them lay in a bloody pile.

It was a beautiful morning. There was a cool breeze and the morning sun was a blazing crest just popping up on the horizon. We had left the wire at about 0500 for the raid that morning. We were supposed to leave earlier so we'd be in and out before the sun came up. We'd done some raids in the daytime before but they always went better at night. We have a definite advantage in the dark. Some stupid mechanical problems held us up, but the target wouldn't be there all day. It was now or never. We'd been tracking this guy for a while and knew he'd be gone in a few hours. We pulled over the hill about 20 miles west of Baghdad just as the little village rose up over the hill. That's where we hit the IED. It hit the second truck. Tanner's truck. Their Humvee lay upside down in the ditch next to the road on fire. Smoke was pouring out of it and the flames were shooting up into the sky. The blast had shot the truck and it's five passengers up in the air, flipped it over twice before it landed upside down in the ditch. The third truck, Steve's truck, had the front two tries flat and the whole hood was gone. It looked like it was still running though.

Steve still wasn't in the hatch. Nobody was moving in the ditch.

Steve's truck was sitting sideways in the road. I don't know if the blast spun it around or if the driver was reacting to the explosion. I could see the rounds spraying across the bullet proof windshield. It cracked and spiderwebbed but it held together. Garrett stood up in the gunners hatch and lit up Steve's 50 cal. He got two of them before they even knew he was firing. Our main goal now was to kill all of the enemy or keep them from firing so we could attempt a rescue.

The flames from Tanners truck were licking at the sides of Steve's truck. I was at least 50 meters away but I could feel the intense heat on my face and hands. I could hear the RTO trying to scream into the radio over the noise. He was trying to call in air support. In a few minutes there would be attack helicopters circling the area ready to empty their mini guns into the sides of the road. The insurgents knew this too. This would be over very quickly one way or the other. And it was. Just as soon as it started it was over. I don't know where these people disappear to but it's like magic. A few more stray bullets in the distance and they were gone.

We cautiously dismounted our vehicles and set up a quick perimeter. We couldn't chase them, we had to protect the burning Humvee. We didn't know if there would be a second bomb, or another ambush. We needed to see if we could help the guys in the ditch.

Still no Steve and nobody in the ditch was moving.

By the time we got out of our vehicle Tanner's truck had burned to almost nothing. It was a mound of metal and a pile of ashes. Parts of the Humvee were scattered across the road and in those parts were five American soldiers I will never forget.

The blast had torn Tanners head and shoulders away from his body, threw him out of the hatch and into the ditch. The other four must have still been in the truck. Steve was laying across the backseats of his Humvee bleeding pretty badly from his head. One of the guys in the truck was a combat lifesaver and had given him first aid during the fire fight. Steve would lose his left ear and most of the side of his face before it was all over. His helmet saved his head and the throat guard on his Body Armor kept the shrapnel from tearing away his neck. I had some minor cuts on my face from Shrapnel but nothing major. It's not like in the movies where they shoot the place up, people die and then it cuts to the next scene nice and clean. It's not like that at all. You have to stay there and pick up the pieces. You clean up the metal and flesh and you carry on. You wash the blood from the Humvees so you can go on the next mission. You say goodbye to your friends and you wake up and do it all over the next day. And for what? We killed seven insurgents that day. A small victory for such a precious price. Five American families lost their sons and fathers and brothers. Steve has to call his wife and kids and tell them he's alive, but only has half of his face. What good can come from that? According to Steve Hope comes from that. I'll never forget what he told me that day.

The medivac helicopters came and took Steve back to the FOB. Another convoy came out to recover what they could of the vehicles and the bodies. We drove back to the FOB with their gun trucks. I went to see Steve before they flew him to Germany for surgery. His head was all bandaged and bloody, but he could still talk. I didn't know what to say to him. But he knew what to say to me.

"Cody, this was all part of God's plan."

"F*** God." I said, mad that he would even say something like that. "How can this be part of his plan."

"I don't know", Steve said, "But my hope is in him. I know he'll take care of me. He always has."

"No, man that's stupid why would God let this happen. It doesn't make sense."

"I don't know why, but I don't need to know. I trust him. Maybe someone else can see him through what happened."

The nurse was putting some medicine into a syringe next to Steve's bed.

"Cody, do me a favor."

"Sure man, anything."

"Give God a try."

That was it. Not tell my wife I love her. No patriotic keep on fighting crap. Just give God a try. That was the last thing Steve said to me. The nurses were sedating him for the trip to Germany and they made me leave. I haven't seen Steve since then. He had always talked about God. He'd tell me stuff but he never forced it on me. I knew what he believed. I didn't understand why he did, but I knew what he believed. I can't see how the loving God Steve talked about would let this happen. If there is a God I don't see how this could be part of a plan. But you know what. I'm going to give God a try. If Steve can go through this and still believe then maybe there's something to it I don't understand. I'm not making any promises, but we'll see what happens.

What a Good Day

2005-03-22T03:40:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was a pretty good day. All the mail that has been accumulating since February showed up. It was like Christmas. Packages, letters, books. It was a good day. Everybody got a bunch of mail, and for about 20 minutes there wasn't a war going on. People shared details from letters, cookies, gum, all kinds of stuff. Mail is a wonderful magical thing. I think the most universally enjoyed item was the selection of nerf guns some anonymous sender sent to us out here. We were dodging darts and mounting nerf attacks against one another all night. We found that a tiny dab of shaving cream will make a dart stick much better to a bald head. What a good day.

I updated the pictures. I put a little section called Mahmudiah Mud. You can get a small glimpse of how it looked here after the rain.

Cody Badger part 2 is in the works. The first installment didn't go exactly how I wanted it to. I didn't really want to spend much time developing the character, but just wanted to get right to the action. It just played out differently in my mind. I just couldn't make it work how I wanted it to. I think the next few episodes will be better.

Anyway, I've been having a pretty good time here lately. They worked the laundry issue out, I picked some up today and I think I know how they're turning it around quicker. It was still wet. I've got laundry hung, draped, laid out all over my little area. It shouldn't take too long to dry, it's just inconvenient, but it smells better.

Check out the pictures and stay tuned for part 2 of Cody Badger.

The Adventures of Cody Badger Part 1

2005-03-19T16:25:00.000-05:00

This is a series I want to write about how it is over here in the war. My blog has been mostly humorous and light hearted so far. If that's the experience you want from my blog that's fine, just don't read any of the entries about the fictitious Cody Badger. All the events are fabricated and are in no way meant to reflect real events that happened here. They are, however based on real events that have happened while I've been here. Some of the experiences are mine, and some are things that have happened to other guys. Also there is some profanity and violence in these entries. There is no way to capture the feeling without them. I apologize if it offends, but that's what it's like here. I'll post a disclaimer before each entry so you can consider yourself forewarned. Please don't let your children read these. This one is pretty mild, but the will get worse.

My name is Cody Badger. I'm a soldier in Iraq. I didn't grow up wanting to be a soldier, it sort of just happened. I got out of High School about a year ago and didn't really have anything better to do. An Army recruiter came to our school before we graduated and it sounded like a good idea, so I joined. When I went through the MEPS station I took the ASVAB test and had to pick a job based on my score. I never was all that smart and didn't really care what I scored. I just wanted to shoot stuff so I was going to pick Infantry no matter what my score. A month later I was at Basic Training at Fort Benning. That's where I met Steve Bennett. Steve was a lot older than me, but we were assigned to be battle buddies from day one. A battle buddy is a guy that goes where you go and you sort of keep track of each other. Since everything is done alphabetically we were always together. He stood right behind me in line for chow, we drew our weapons and turned them in in the same order. I think the only time in Basic I didn't see Steve was when I was asleep. But even then I could hear him. He slept on the bunk above me. A year later he's my room mate and my squad leader in the infantry unit I'm in in Iraq. I'm glad we got stuck together back in Basic. I know nothing's gunna happen to me as long as Steve's around.

I don't really know why Steve joined the Army. He'd already been to college, and was married. His wife had a daughter the month we left to come here. He only got to see her for a week before we mobilized and started heading out. That must really suck. Anyway, he's the smartest guy I know. He knows when the insurgents are going to hit us. It's like he can feel em coming. I guess it's a gift, but all I know is I'm glad he's on our team.

One of the first things we did when we got to Iraq was go to the range and zero our weapons. We had taken our turn and were waiting outside the area they made up for the range when some jerk takes a shot at us over the wall. It was over and done before we could even react. We were standing next to one of the Humvees talking and all of the sudden "POP" "ZING" and it was over.

"Steve, what the F*** was that?"

"Dude, get behind the truck" Steve said as he jumped behind the armored Humvee.

"S*** man, they're shooting at us", I said just standing there looking at the wall.

"Get down stupid!" Steve yelled as he grabbed the loop on the back of my body armor.

I hurried up and squatted down next to Steve behind the truck.

"Did you see em?"

"No, but it was about an inch from my head"

"Mine too",I said "what ear'd you hear it out of?"

"Left." Steve said as he scanned the top of the wall. We both had our M-16s propped up on the hood and aimed at the wall where the round had come from.

"I heard it out of my right." I said. "S*** a couple of inches either way and that would have been it."

Nobody ever saw who did it or how far away they were, but we heard it zing right between our heads and we were only about a foot apart. Plus we saw where the round went into the Humvee. That was day one.

That was the first time I'd ever been shot at. I wasn't as scary as I thought it would have been. It just happened and then it was over. I guess since we didn't anticipate it happening we didn't have time to be scared. I thought it would have been more dramatic, but it wasn't.

Our job is mostly driving around on patrols in the city in the day time, and doing raids and searches at night. The first few patrols weren't too bad. We usually convoy out with four or five Humvees and patrol around to see what's going on. Steve is usually the gunner in the middle truck, and I'm usually the gunner in the last truck. We're the guys who stand up in the middle of the Humvee in the gunners hatch and fire the 50 Caliber machine gun. It's pretty cool. There's an armored pod that we stand in and there's a place for the 50 to stick out the front. The whole pod rotates 360 so you can fire from any direction. I face backwards most of the time so I don't know what's coming, but the guys in the truck yell up to me and let me know what's going on. There's a little sling that you can sit in, but it always makes my butt go to sleep. We spend most of our time with our heads stuck out of the top of the Humvee swinging the 50 cal around from side to side. Not a bad job if you don't mind being the only guy with your head sticking out the armored Humvee. I'm not too worried though with Steve in the Convoy.

The biggest threat we face in Iraq isn't getting shot, it's IEDs. Improvised Explosive Devices. These jerks put old artillery rounds, land mines, or anything they can find in the road and blow them up when we drive over them. The lead trucks main job is to scan for IEDs. I'm glad I'm usually in the back.

We got hit with our first IED on the third or fourth mission outside the wire. We were just driving down a road and had no clue it was there. It hit the second truck. It was a pretty small one though and didn't do any damage. We didn't even stop. He ran right through the smoke and looked around for who set it off. We didn't see anybody. And didn't want to stop either. Sometimes they use the IEDs to stop the convoy so they can ambush it. We didn't plan on getting ambushed so we pushed through. When we got back we looked at the truck and it only looked like someone shot it with a shotgun or something. It had some shrapnel marks on the front fender, but it didn't even make the tire flat. So we just left it like it was and went to get some chow.

It's Your Money, You Just Can't Have It

2005-03-18T17:15:00.000-05:00

After proof reading this it came off a lot more negative than I planned, but it makes the point so I'll leave it. Don't think I flipped my lid, I'm actually having a half way decent time here. So, here goes.

There are certain things you can do in the Army. You can not see your family for long periods of time. You can give and receive gun fire. You can slosh through muddy water mixed with raw sewage. You can even pay for your own hotel room when the Army recalls you and doesn't have room for you.

There are certain things you can't do in the Army. You can't grow a beard. You can't sleep in. You can not, contrary to popular belief, shoot someone because you think they look like an insurgent. And, you can't get your own money out of finance if you are an E7 or below.

I haven't had shampoo or deodorant for a while because I don't have any money because they don't have finance here. Today finance came through for their once a month visit. I trudged through the mud and stood in line to take out my $50.00. When it was my turn I signed in and said,

"I'd like to take out $50.00 please."

"No problem Sergeant, just take this form and have someone E7 or above counsel you on the possible impact it could have on you to use your money and then have them sign this form and then come back."

I looked around for a second to see if they were kidding.

"You're serious, I have to get someone's permission to get my own money to buy toiletries? Surely you're kidding me."

They weren't. So I walked back through the mud and got someone 5 years younger than me with no wife and no kids and has never had a job because he's still in college counsel me on the use of my money. It amazes me that I even survived out of the military. It amazes me that I am a general manager for a company that did one Billion dollars in business last year. Billion with a B, but can't manage 50 of my own dollars. It amazes me that my family even gets out of bed in the morning and eats breakfast without an E7 or above to counsel us on the possible effects of eating the cereal out of the cupboard.

"You know Sergeant, that if you eat that cereal now you won't have it later. I know it's your cereal and that you need to eat it to survive, but I don't think you are capable of making that decision on your own."

"Oh, E7 or above, thank you so much for your insight into the use of my own cereal. Whatever was I thinking wanting to eat the cereal out of the cupboard. I would be better to never touch the cereal for fear of it not being there in the future. Thank you so much for your concern when I'm being shot at, or when I have to make the split second decision to let a vehicle speed up on me and possibly blow me up, or fill the cabin full of bullets and take the chance that it wasn't a suicide bomber but just a bad driver taking her kids to school. Thank you for wasting my time having me walk across the mud to get your signature to get my own money that I earned by getting shot at. You're right, I am incapable of making a decision. Thank you Thank you Thank you."

On a lighter note, the PX is out of Shampoo and deodorant.

Whew, I feel better. I think I will write that little fictitious series on the war.

Thank you. Elvis has left the building.

Rain, Rain go Away

2005-03-16T17:19:00.000-05:00

The last week here at beautiful FOB Mahmudiah has been rain, rain, and in between the drizzles we had full on downpours. Everything flooded. Most of the area was at least ankle deep mud. Some of it was knee deep, and there is one part that is still chest deep mud and water. I don't know this from first hand experience, just from observation. Marines will do anything. One of the perks of a flooded FOB is that the water trucks can't get in. No water, no showers. No water, no laundry. Not that it matters. They were supposed to have worked out the laundry issue but I've only been able to do laundry once this past month. So, I went about four days in the same stinky muddy clothes. Then one glorious day the water trucks showed up. I had my laundry done and a shower all in the same day. It was like Christmas, only muddier. On second thought Christmas was muddy too. So, it was just like Christmas.

Let's talk mail. I haven't gotten any for a few months. There are convoys that come here all the time. I look at them with the sad puppy eyes as everyone else is getting their mail but it doesn't help. I called back to my unit on Liberty and they said, "Oh, you have a pile of mail here." "Well, why don't you send it?" I asked in my most annoyed yet don't want to make them mad so they don't send my mail tone. "Yeah, I guess we could do that." Well, I don't want to inconvenience anyone.

Things have been going full bore here in Mahmudiah. It's like we're at war or something. However the end is in sight. The official word came out last week that my Brigade would leave Iraq in September. Woo Hoo. I always liked September, it always had that end of the war feeling to it. Based on my military history I figure September means I'll be home by Christmas.

I have a question for the comments section. My blog is generally light and humorous, but that isn't really how the war is here. I've been toying with the idea of writing a small series about some fictitious characters experiencing the war based on real events. The catch is it would be realistic. War is violent and full of profanity. It would mostly be for me to get some of this stuff off of my chest, but partially for you to get a glimpse of how it really is. Would that be too much for the blog or would you be interested in reading it. I figure it would be about 4 or 5 blog posts worth and would sort of follow a few main characters. I'll probably write it anyway but I'll wait for your comments to see if I'll post it.

Other than that not much going on here. I'll be interested to read your comments.

If You Can't Laugh at Yourself.....

2005-03-08T16:32:00.000-05:00

You know the old saying If You Can't Laugh at Yourself blah blah blah. Well, I wrestled with posting or not posting this one. It one of those that if you hear it about someone else it's hilarious, but if it's you it just sucks rocks. Well, it's a little funny. Anyway here goes.

You know about the port-o-podies so I don't have to set much up there. The setting does need a little set up though. Picture middle of the desert, middle of the night, pitch black, almost asleep.

It was getting toward the end of my shift tonight and the computers weren't working. I decided to take the time to visit one of the port-o-podies. As I learned in a previous lesson I used my little flashlight upon entering the port-o-pody. All was clear so I continued on with the mission at hand. I sat there, did my business, hummed a few tunes, Yada Yada Yada, the usual. When I was done I stood up and pulled my pants up. When I did I heard a faint but distinct "ker plunk". Curious, that doesn't usually happen. I wonder what that could be. I had been carrying my digital camera in my front pocket which I don't usually do. I know what you're thinking and you're wrong. I frantically felt my pockets thinking my camera had fallen into the abyss. No, the camera was still there, as was the flashlight and my memory stick. Hmm, must have been my imagination. I buckled my belt and started out the door. I have this little ritual I do when I leave a place. I pat my front pocket to feel for my keys, and I pat my back pocket to feel for my OH CRAP, MY WALLET. NO NO NO NO. I ran back into the port-o-pody flashlight blazing and peered into the place nobody ever want to put their hand. History will only tell if the next event was fortunate or unfortunate, but some one before me had left a large squishy pile right in the middle of the tank. There, scoffing at me, was about one inch of black nylon and velcro. Life slowed to a stop. If the wallet had fallen even one inch further in any direction it would have sunk to the bottom. I was staring down into a dark hole of human sludge engulfing my wallet and all of my identification. Oh No, my ID. If you lose your military ID in a hostile foreign country you're in deep doo doo (pun intended). There was no question about it, I had to go in, it was slowly sinking. Throwing caution to the wind I reached into the pile of unmentionable and retrieved my soggy wallet. I didn't really care about the cash, but I couldn't let anyone find my ID and my Credit Card. I plopped the wallet down on the little ledge and pulled out about 52 miles of toilet paper from the roll. I carefully opened the wallet and extracted my ID and Credit Cards. The pictures were ruined but the money was dry. So as of right now I have a cargo pocket full of things you'd find in a wallet. It's over you say? Not even close. I'm standing there with a wallet full of crap and blue fingers. How am I going to walk out of this with a modicum of dignity. There's only one answer. Ditch the wallet. So, with a quick remorseful flick of the wrist, I pitched the wallet back into the deep blue and wrapped the pictures up in toilet paper. I tried to scrub my fingertips as much as possible and then got the heck out of there. They have little dispensers with that hand sanitizer stuff in them attached to the outside of the port-o-podies. Well, the one where I was in now empty.

There it is. I suppose in a few days it will seem funny, but right now I've got to come up with a wallet. I'm sure I'll find one somewhere. I do have some ziplocks.

I also updated the photo album. I added a page for Camp Mahmudiah.

Would You Do It?

2005-03-04T15:35:00.000-05:00

I'm sitting here at the computer shaking my head. I just read an e-mail addressed to me from an Army Recruiter. He was singing the praises of being in the IRR and wanted to know if I was interested in re enlisting. After I dismissed the usual "when pigs fly, when hell freezes over, not on your life" responses I wrote him a cordial reply with a few demands in order for me to re enlist. I really doubt any of them will be met, so I probably won't be re enlisting any time soon. And if I do I'll be a rich person with no possibility of ever being recalled again. I don't think it will happen though.

I got hooked up with a Segovia VOIP (Voice over Internet Protocol) account the other day. They have these phones set up in the computer lab that you can talk on if you have an account. You go to their website and charge your account up with your credit card and they give you a pin number. I can talk to the States for 4 cents a minute. I think that's less than my long distance plan at home. It's a pretty good connection too. That beats the heck out of the 60 cents a minute for my cell phone.

We're expecting, of all things, a hail storm tonight. I can't really believe it'll happen though. It's pretty calm here and doesn't seem like a storm is coming. Hail is definitely one thing I didn't think I'd see here in Iraq, but stranger things have happened I'm sure.

Well, Someday I'll get to the Haji internet cafe and upload some pictures to the photo album. Until then just picture green tents full of cots with sleeping snoring stinking men, and dirt. That pretty much sums it up. I love it here though. I even volunteered to stay longer if they needed me to. The work environment is so much better. We're working 12 on and 12 off seven days a week and that's fine. There's not really anything to do here anyway. On the flip side, one day is just like the last day which will be just like the next one. The days go fast though.

Some people have asked about mail. We still get it here, it's just a little slower. It has to make it's way to Camp Liberty and get sorted to a bag that comes out to FOB Mahmudiah whenever there's a convoy. I'm sure it'll get here before the war is over.

FOB Mahmudiah

2005-02-27T16:33:00.000-05:00

As with all good relationships there are always things to learn about your partner. In the contiuing relationship I have struck up with the port-o-podies there are still lessons to be learned. For instance, just because all the port-o-podies I've used so far have a urinal on the left wall doesn't mean all the port-o-podies I will ever use have a urinal on the left wall. So, when I walk into one in the middle of the night and think I'm aiming at the urinal on the left wall, it may just be the left wall. Note to self, always use flashlight.

My time at FOB Mahmudiah has been great so far. It's like what I thought war would be like with all the tents and no amenities. Believe it or not it's been the best time I've had so far. There is one stiking discovery we made today though. Before we showed up the place was all Marines. Well, they have a contract with the people that come in and do the laundry. The contract is with the Marines only though. We went to take our laundry today and were greated by the soup Nazi from the Seinfeld show. Only he was shorter and arab, and he doesn't make soup. He does laundry. He said, in his broken english, "No laundry for you!". When questioned further his response was a firm but afraid "No laundry for you!" Appearantely his repertoire was exhausted, and he is afraid of angry Americans with guns. So we did what any kind hearted soldier liberating someone elses country would do, We put our laundry bags down and locked and loaded on him. No, we didn't, but that would have been a great picture. You know how when you buy a used car from someone it's used for them but just like new for you. I wonder if the same holds true for underwear? Anyway, I hope they figure something out. I did the math and I could only change my uniform every 11 days, my shirt every 6 days, and my underwear and socks every 4.2 days to make it to the end with a full bag of dirty laundry and a fully used uniform on my stinky body when we left here. Doable? Yes. Desirable? No. Oh yeah, the contract for the water to be trucked in for the showers, same story. That one should be worked out though.

In other news, I love it here. It's more the work environment than the setting. I'm really contributing to the war effort here and I'm much happier. I've taken pictures but they don't let you upload stuff here. I'll have to go to the pay side and upload some pictures soon. Did I tell you about the Snickers bars here? The Snickers here are the best Snickers I've ever eaten. We think it's because of the high fat content in the dairy products they use here. The unanimous conclusion is that Middle Eastern Snickers could beat the crap out of the North American Snickers with one creamy nouget tied behind it's back. mmmm Snickers.

Alright, I'll post again as soon as I get a chance. It sure was convienient when I had internet access in my room. The trade off in level of satisfaction is worth it though.

I'm Here

2005-02-23T01:56:00.000-05:00

Well, I'm here at beautiful FOB (Forward Operating Base) St. Michael near the thriving metropolis of Mahmudiyah Iraq. For a paltry sum you too can have your own tent, along with thirteen other guys, and miles and miles of lush desert landscape. And, if the cooks aren't on guard duty, they might even have food for you.

Actually I love it here. It's like the real Army. Tents and cots and MREs. Best of all, no changing spaces into underscores. We got here a few days ago and have been working non stop to set everything up. The first day we took it easy and only worked 15 hours. Yesterday we hit it hard and worked 17. Now that it's all set up we'll fall back into our 12 on 12 off schedule, but there aren't enough guys to have days off here. I haven't stopped smiling since we got here though. Satisfaction is found more in your work environment than it is with comforts. I love it here.

The tents do have a heater/airconditioning unit in them. The first night got down to about 40 outside, but we couldn't figure out how to turn the AC off so it was probably in the thirties inside. Good thing I brought my sleeping bag. The contractors came to fix it last night but I guess it'ss all the way broken now. Oh, there are two internet cafes here. One is run by the Army and is free to use, the other is run by a Local Guy and costs $2.00 an hour. I thought I was in the free one but I, just at this moment, found out I'm in the $2.00 one. Oh, well, live and learn. This place is starkly different than Camp Victory. Camp Victory is bigger than some cities in the States. I could probably throw a baseball from one corner to the other here. Along with the small size comes a proportionate lack of amenities. However, there is a place to sleep, a place to eat, a place to shower, and internet service, a place to play my guitar, and my old boss is nowhere to be found. What more could you really ask for. We should be here for 6-8 weeks and then we'll go back to Camp Victory. My hope is that someone else will be sucked into my old position and then when I get back I can do my real job. We'll see what happens. I'll post some more pictures in a few days. Now that I'm understanding this internet cafe it looks like you can bring your own computer and hook it up. Good thing I brought mine.

Well, I better not run up a tab so I'll post another bolg and some pictures in a few days.

On the Road Again, Again

2005-02-19T07:03:00.000-05:00

I'll be moving for the fourth time this week. I volunteered for this move though. Can't really say too much about it until after the fact but I can give a few details. I'll either be living in a tent, or these little plywood room things that they've built. There is internet access but not from your room. You can eat chow as many times as you want, only they spell it differently. They spell it MRE. Oh, yeah, it's the rainy season here right now and our living area in a big depression. All this and they even pay you. What a deal. Seriously, I'm excited about the move. I haven't really felt like I've contributed since I've been here. Well there was that one time on the 13th of February. I even marked it on the calendar at work. My boss didn't think it was funny. She doesn't really think anything is funny, especially the fact that I volunteered to go to this new assignment and She's going to have to actually come to work during the days. I really think I'll be able to contribute at this new thing. It's only for a few weeks and then back to the grind. However, there is a rumor floating on the breeze that when I get back from this little vacation in the mud someone else will be in my job and I'll move again to the place they actually do my real job. We'll see what happens. I'd like it if that happened.

Was that last paragraph as hard to follow as it was to write. I'll clear up all the details after we've moved. Don't want anyone planning an attack based on my blog. Once I'm there I'll probably be just as safe as I am right now.

We did have some fun the other night. It was a little slow around evening chow time so Me and two other guys decided to go to the Corps chow hall instead of ours. We'd heard stories about it like it was some magical wonderland where all your dreams come true. When you live in the desert during a war chow is about all you have to look forward to so it tends to take on mythical qualities at times. Anyway, we mounted our trusty Humvee and drove the fifteen or twenty minutes to the area we knew it was in and conducted a "tactical dismounted patrol" in search of the chow hall holy grail. When we walked through the door or quest was rewarded with culinary treasures only dreamed of by mortal men. There were booths you could sit in like real restaurant, and fresh pies for dessert. The lines we like 2 seconds long compared to the 10-20 minute lines in our chow hall. I'm not sure but I think I even saw little chow hall fairies dancing and flying singing songs of pure delight. I wanted to stay there for the rest of my life. Well, until I was done eating anyway. Like all things in the military, the closer you get to the flag pole the nicer the amenities.

I posted a few pictures in the Texas section of the photo album, and I'm almost done with the Camp Slayer section. I'll update the album in a few hours when all the pictures have posted. With this new move I'm not sure when the next time I'll be able to post is so don't worry if you don't hear from me for a while.

Did He Really Do That?

2005-02-18T02:58:00.000-05:00

My internet connection has been very sporadic lately. I mean to post more pictures, but I can't keep the connection going long enough to upload them. I'll try some more tonight.

Warning, this blogs is not for the squeamish. Do not read on a full stomach.

Yesterday I was sitting in my office working and talking to a guy who just got back from a 4 day pass to Quatar. I was asking him about what there was to do and if he had a good time. I'm the kind of person who likes to maintain eye contact during a conversation. You know that whole non verbal communications thing. Well, this guy had a whole different set of non verbal communication skills. As we're talking he keeps flirting with the edge of his nose. So I'm listening to him but in my mind pleading with him not to take the next inevitable step. Well it happened, he goes in and picks a winner. I can tell by the content of what he's saying that the conversation isn't even close to over. Oh well, everybody picks their nose though right? But there's more. As he's talking, he's rolling it in his fingers and looking at it without missing a beat in the conversation. I'm still listening but wishing I could leave or that he'd just get rid of it. You know the old saying be careful what you wish for you just might get it. Well I got my wish. He got rid of it. Right into his mouth. I know you may be thinking I'm making this up but I'm not. At this point I have no clue what he's saying. I'm still struggling to maintain eye contact, but all I can think is I just saw a 40 something year old man eat the fruits of his labor. So as I'm struggling with the notion to just feign unconsciousness to escape this conversation, or just be polite and trude through. But it gets worse, oh yes, it gets worse. How you ask, just listen.

Apparently his nose was sufficiently stripped of all nourishment so he starts to pick at what must be a sore or a scab on his head. Not just a scratch, or a rub, But a full fledged get your fingernail caught in the cracks kind of picking. This goes on for a good 10 to 15 picks when whatever it is comes loose from his head and is now in his fingers. As per his normal practice (I assume) he starts to roll the whatever it is in his fingers. Now I'm desperate. I have to terminate the conversation or .....NO, HE DIDN'T. Oh yes, he did. Just like you'd take a piece of pop corn and tilt your head back and pop that sucker in, he did. He tossed the whatever it is into his mouth. Now, it didn't go right down mind you, he chewed it for the rest of the conversation.

I'm not really sure what he did in Quatar, or what he said during the conversation, but I haven't been hungry since. And, before anyone asks, I didn't get any pictures to add to the album.

On a different note, I will be moving again, this time I volunteered. I know you're not supposed to volunteer in the Army ,but it was for the better. I'll fill you in the next installment. Right now I have to go try to scrub the stomach turning images that have been forever burned into my retinas.

Photo Album

2005-02-13T18:24:00.000-05:00

Alright blog fans, you asked and I delivered. On the right side of this page just below the archives should be a link that says Photo Album. Click that puppy and see if it works. When I tried it tonight it was a little slow to load, but be patient. I only loaded pictures on the pages called "Kuwait" and "Baghdad". I have more but I'm getting tired. I'll put some more up in the next few days. I'm pretty proud that I figured it out in the first place. It turned out better than I had hoped. I actually had to learn some HTML to be able to do it. If you don't know what that is don't worry. It's the magic that lets you click on a word and bring up my photo album. I'll add more photos in the next few days. If you have anything you are curious about here ask and I'll take a picture of it if I can.

Health and Welfare

2005-02-13T11:20:00.000-05:00

Right now I am sitting in my room waiting for what the Army calls a "Health and Welfare". In laymans terms a room inspection. They say it is to make sure your room is clean and healthy. What they really mean is to make sure you don't have anything you're not supposed to. So, I'll gladly sit here instead of at work and wait for them to come around and inspect my room.

Our Family Readiness group sent me a Birthday present today. It was quite a surprise especially since it's not my birthday. In fact it's almost as far from my birthday as you can get without getting closer to my birthday. It was a nice thought though. They gave me a pillow case with an iron on picture of an eagle flying past a flag and below that is an iron on patch with my name, spelled incorrectly of course. They did give me an AAFES gift certificate. That the PX or BX systems on all the military posts. They accept them here at the PX, so that's nice.

Well, the Health and Welfare is officially over. They just stood in the room and looked around and left. So that will conclude this episode of a day in the life of an IRR Soldier. Tune in next time for another exciting installment sure to add joy and fulfillment to your life and mine.

Look Before You Leap

2005-02-12T13:13:00.000-05:00

Look before you leap doesn't only apply to jumping and making decisions. It also applies to using port-o-podies. Since I work noon to midnight it's dark for more than half of my shift. There's a row of port-o-podies in front of our building and good old pot-o-pody number two is my particular favorite. The lock works for one thing, also it's not the first one in the row so fewer people pull on the door to check if it's unlocked while you're in it. For tactical reasons there aren't any lights anywhere so it's pretty dark out everywhere. I have a small flashlight I carry around for just such occasions. There are many times you have to wipe the seat off before settling in to do your business. That's just an accepted part of the game. However, you don't usually have to scoop the seat off if you catch my drift. I can understand missing number one, but how do you miss number two? You don't even have to aim? Physics and anatomy make it sort of a given that the deposit will end up in the correct account. How could you possibly miss? Well, someone did. Good old port-o-pody number two is now good old port-o-pody number two for an entirely different reason.

Well, I've been piddling around with the photo album idea and I think it's solved. I have to upload the pictures now but the structure is there. Look at the side bar where the archive are in the next few days for a link you can click to open the photo album. I'm not promising any Pulitzer prize winning stuff here, but I hope you enjoy it. Can you win a Pulitzer for photography, or is it just for journalism? Anyway, it'll be there in a few days. My internet connection has been slow and cutting out the past few days.

I'm starting to get a complex. I've been here for about four months and have had three different rooms. Each room mate has left for one reason or another. Now my new room mate is going to move out. I'm not too broken up though. There is an extra blanket that was in the room when we moved in, so I'm going to make the other bed so it looks like someone lives here. That way if they come through to do any maintenance they'll think there's two guys in here. Having your own room is a good thing if you like to play guitar. My room mate sleeps about 52 hours a day. Every time I'm here he's asleep. Now maybe I can play some more guitar. I've got about four songs toward the album so far. I'm not sure they're all keepers but it's a start anyway.

I'm gonna go work on the photo album now. Let me know what you think once it's up.

Moving Day Take Three and Mardi Gras

2005-02-07T01:33:00.000-05:00

I've been a little busy since I got back from leave. Most notably I've moved into my third room in as many months. The problem with this move was that nobody told me until the person moving into my room was knocking on the door. This is one I'll never figure out. I had to pack all of my stuff up and move into the room of the person that moved into my room. Did you catch that. We just swapped rooms. What's the point. There were about 20 people involved in a room shuffle and I just traded rooms with someone. Why not just leave us alone? That was one of the dumbest things I've had to do so far until I got to work yesterday. My task for the whole 12 hour shift, and I'm still not even halfway done, was to go to all the file names on our computer and take out any spaces and replace them with an underscore. If that's not contributing to the war effort I don't know what is. I thought maybe it was some formatting thing so people could search our files easier or something. No, that's just a new naming convention my boss wants to implement and thought we should do it to all the files. If any congressmen are reading this and you're wondering if recalling the IRR is helping the war effort you can be rest assured that if I wasn't changing spaces to underscores we would most definitely lose the war.

Yesterday was also my first taste of Mardi Gras. The unit I'll attached to is from South Louisiana and they organized a Mardi Gras parade around the camp. The decorated vehicles and dressed up in stuff people had sent from back home. They threw beads and everything. It was pretty cool. This coincided with what is probably the largest morale boost here so far. There was a superbowl party tonight here on the camp. General order number 1 makes it illegal to drink alcohol, which doesn't matter because there isn't any to drink. Well, Anheuser Busch donated 120,000 bottles of Budweiser and chartered a plane into Baghdad to transport it. Every soldier could go to a table they had setup and slide your ID card to get 2 bottles of Bud. I don't drink so I gave mine away, but you could see the morale rise as guys were drinking "real" beer. They have non-alcoholic beer in the chow halls but hardly anyone drinks it. They say it's terrible. So the combination of Mardi Gras, Superbowl, and beer made for one Americanized good time on Camp Victory last night. You could almost see the mullets grow as visions of motorcycles and bass boats twinkled in every eye.

This morning I was startled by a knock on the door and four foreign men standing over me as I woke up. KBR, the people that maintain the sleeping quarters here, came to clean the little air conditioner/heater unit in my trailer. They didn't knock and then let me answer the door. They knocked after they unlocked the door and were stepping into the trailer. So here I am in my underwear in the little 4ftx10ft space I live in with four other guys in muddy coveralls trying to get some clothes on and get out of their way. All of this in the first few seconds of waking up. I considered getting my rifle but thought that wouldn't really help the situation any. So it's three hours before I actually have to get up but I can't go back to sleep. Guess I'll go take a shower and get this day started. You can never get too early of a start when your changing spaces into underscores.

It's supposed to get down to 30 degrees here on Thursday. We haven't seen temperatures that low here yet. Of course it's raining and our humvee is broken down.

One of the Floats

Another float

Mardi Gras Girl

Chow Hall Parade

Back to Baghdad

2005-02-02T05:33:00.000-05:00

Well I'm back. I didn't anticipate this but it's actually sort of a relief to be back. Not a relief to be here instead of home but just to finally be back after traveling. You know that feeling you have when you come home from a vacation and open your door and just breathe a sigh of relief. It's like that. It's comfortable to get back to a routine. I've said it before but these are the nicest port-o-podies in the world. Honestly I've never seen cleaner. The two days I spent in Kuwait were port-o-pody hell. They were stinky, dirty, and never had toilet paper. That may be OK in the Middle East culture but I prefer toilet paper. I left the west coast of the United States at 6:30 a.m. on Jan 28th. I unlocked the door to my trailer at about 11:00 p.m. on February 1st. I spent two days in Dallas TX and two days in Camp Doha Kuwait with a stop over in Rhein-Main Air Base Germany in the middle. The delays weren't bad, just one more day not in Baghdad. But it was settling to get back to my familiar surroundings at Camp Victory. When my unit picked me up from the airport they told me I didn't have to go into work the next day (today). That was nice, it helped me finish turning the time around from the 11 hour difference. The flight from the States to Kuwait was nice. It was a huge commercial plane with stewardesses and food and everyone got their own row. I picked the center row that was four seats wide so I could lay down and sleep. The two hour flight from Kuwait to Baghdad on a C-130 was the worst part of the whole trip. You sit sideways in a row of "Lawn chair couches" with the legs of the guy facing you right between your legs touching your seat. You're just woven together like a human watch wrist band. The worst part is the seats are just a piece on Nylon slung between two aluminum poles. If that flight was one minute longer I'm convinced my butt cheeks would have fused together.

There seems to be a feeling of validation around camp from the elections. Like what we're doing here actually has some purpose. Some estimates I've heard have participation in the elections at 70+ percent. Could you imagine if we had that much participation in the States. Do you think the campaign strategies would change if the candidates expected everyone to come out and vote? Anyway, in a weird way it's good to be back. I'd rather be home, but if I have to be here, here's not so bad.

When I got back they told me my room mate wasn't coming back at all. He's still in Texas and has to have back surgery. I heard from Kentucky a few weeks back. He's in Iraq now with his unit but that's about all I know. I'll e-mail him shortly and ask him for more details. Then I'll ask him if he cares if I share them. I know his wife was reading the blog early on but I haven't heard from her in a while.

So, since I didn't have to work today and my room mate isn't coming back I think I'll rearrange the room a little bit. He had about 2/3 the space and I had the other 1/3 with his refrigerator and the cleaning supplies on my side. I think I'll go for a little more 50-50. Also, since I only really got to play my Christmas guitar that one day I think I'll have a little "Rock the 'a little bit closer to freedom' world" day. Check out the "Raise Your Goblet of Rock" post if that didn't make any sense.

I found a way to post links to a photo album here on the blog but it didn't work exactly like I thought. It gave the viewer (you) access to change and post pictures which didn't sound like a good idea to me. My wife said she didn't think anyone would care about pictures. If that's the case I won't try anymore options, but if you'd like to see pictures leave some comments and I'll check out some more options.

Well, that's about all the news I've got. Let me know in the comments if you'd like to know anything else I never talk about. I'd also like to use this blog to give people answers to what they're curious about concerning life over here.

Hello From Germany

2005-01-30T02:21:00.000-05:00

Just wanted to take the opportunity to say hello from Germany. I've never been able to say that before, and I'm not sure I ever will again. So without further delay......Hello From Germany. (conduct spell check) Hey, this is the first Blog so far that didn't turn up any misspelled words. Either I'm getting smarter, or I just used stupider words in this one. (conduct spell check again) I guess I ruined it because I misspelled the word misspelled. I was sure there was only one s but the computer tells me there's two. It still looks wrong so I'm going to tell myself it was right the first time.

And Now Back to Our Program

2005-01-28T23:43:00.000-05:00

When we last heard from our hero in his on going military saga he was leaving Iraq to go on his "mid tour" leave. Did he get there? Did he have a good time? Did Squishy Santa make a guest appearance? Stay tuned for answers to these and other exciting questions as we return to "IRR Soldier part two: Back to Baghdad" (Ominous music plays while the part of IRR soldier, played by Val Kilmer, does cool spy looking things with high tech gadgets and neat looking weapons and the opening credits scroll by.)

Well, it's been 19 days since my last post. Right now I'm sitting on a King sized bed in a suite in an undisclosed hotel somewhere in Texas digesting my prime rib dinner from the hotel restaurant. I flew out of my home town at 6:30 this morning to catch a connecting flight in Dallas. For some reason not even known to the Army they gave us tickets that got us here a few hours after our connecting flight had already left. That's just good planning. So they put us up in a hotel for the night. This time they pay for it. Not me. This is probably the nicest hotel I've ever been in. When we went to check in all the other guys were going to the counter in pairs. A lot of them are from the same unit. I don't know any of them so I just went up by myself figuring they'd pair me up with some other unsuspecting sucker. Imagine my surprise when they asked me if I'd like to room alone. I didn't know that was an option but snatched up the chance before anyone was the wiser. And here I am now blogging on my free T1 connection compliments of the hotel.

When I got home for leave my wife met me at the airport and we drove to a cabin in the mountains for a few days. It was good to see just her. It made the transition back a little smoother. We had a great time. There was snow everywhere, and a herd of wild buffalo that would come to the fence line outside our porch to drink water every morning and evening. We went into the little town there a few times but mostly just hung out at the cabin watching movies and playing games. It was great. My Mother-in-law and CNH took turns watching our kids while we were gone. Our friends and family have come through with support in ways that I'll never be able to thank them for if I tried for the rest of my life.

The kids were great. I spent most of the time back playing with them and just hanging around the house. The first day back from the cabin was a Sunday. We went to church and that was the first interaction I had with anyone other than my wife. It was unexpectedly overwhelming. I don't think I realized how disconnected from people I had become. I'm around people in my job in the Army all day, but I guess you sort of put up a barrier because of all the death and violence around. That day at Church was really emotional. Everyone meant well and I really wanted to talk to all of them but I was so overwhelmed I couldn't. I was just stunned like I was watching it all unfold in a movie. That night and the next day were a little tough. All the family connections came flooding back mixed up with joy and frustration and anger all in this tight little ball of confusing emotion. I was overjoyed to be back with my family, sad for all the families who would never see their soldiers again, mad at the war for what it was doing to my family and other families. The whole time away so far had just been going from one day to another. Now I had a chance to sit back and reflect on it all. After those first few days I bounced back to normal and really enjoyed the time with my family.

This blog is my view of what's going on in my life right now and is subject to change as situations change. I'm mad at this war for separating Daddys from their little boys and girls. I'm mad that American Soldiers are dying and they aren't really sure why they're there. I'm mad because when I'm gone my 4 year old boy gets so angry and he doesn't even know why. I'm mad because I don't know if the Iraqis know what's going on and if they do if they even care. What if they don't want to be liberated. "Hello fairy princess I'm here to rescue you." "Rescue me from what, self proclaimed knight in shining armor?" "Why from your evil oppressor of course." "What evil oppressor?" "Oh silly princess, Just be quiet and let me rescue you." What if we're wasting lives there. I have no control over anything that's happening to me or my family. Have you ever been in a situation like that? I never had until now. I have absolutely no say in even the most minute details of our lives. Anything could happen and all I could do is sit there and watch, and deal with the outcome. But you know what, that's OK. I'm mad at the war right now but there is still a God that's much bigger than me calling the shots. This has been a very trying few weeks, probably the worst so far, probably the worst in my life, but I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that God is in control. I'm mad now but I'm not defeated. I have no control now, but He does. My thoughts are jumbled and disorganized and I don't know what to make of them, but his perfect plan is still in motion. Sometimes I just want to throw in the towel and quit believing there's a plan, but I know in the deepest fibers of my body that God is real. And at the end of processing that I find comfort in knowing this simple truth. God loves me and aches for me to love him back. He doesn't care how feeble my faith is. In fact I don't think his love for me even requires me to love him in return. My salvation depends on it, but he'd still love me even if I spit in his face. He'll always be there helping me take each step. When I'm strong He'll let me walk, and when I'm weak He'll carry me. When I fall He'll pick me up, dust me off, and point me in the right direction. I've spent a lot of my life walking. I've spent most of the last few months being carried.

Well, that's probably enough emotional regurgitation for one entry. I believe all the stuff about God in there, all the rest will probably change as we see how the war unfolds.

Feel free to comment. I talked to quite a few people back home that read the blog and I had no idea they ever even looked at it. Come on guys show me some love. Leave a comment every now and then.

On the Road Again

2005-01-09T10:34:00.000-05:00

My guitar day off went pretty well. In giddy anticipation for what was ahead of me I woke up at the crack of 2:00 p.m., wiped the sleep from my eyes and picked up the guitar. I planned ahead the day before and brought home a sandwich from the chow hall so I didn't have to wake up and walk there for lunch. I got a couple of chords into "Rock the not so free world day" (hereafter referred to as RTNSFWD, see previous blog)when there was a knock on my door. I was playing through headphones so it couldn't be the noise. I hesitated to answer because my boss is notorious for having me come in on my day off. I've vowed never to answer my door on my day off again, but I usually get tricked. For instance, last week I was enjoying a good early morning snooze when I heard what I could have sworn was a car alarm. I was at that point of sleep where you aren't sure if you're awake or not so I figured I was dreaming. Besides, there aren't any cars around here to have alarms anyway. In reality it was a new siren they're trying out on the Humvee's to get traffic out of the way during patrols and convoys. Believe it or not some of the people around here don't get out of the way when they see Humvees and Tanks driving right down the middle of the road with guns trained right on their car. However in my dream I thought it was my car alarm. As I'm dreaming this there's someone knocking on my door. Still in dream land it makes perfect sense to me that someone is knocking on my door in Anytown USA so I can turn off my car alarm. No problem, I get up, thinking I'm back home, and answer the door. Imagine my surprise when I see my boss at the door and a Humvee in the background setting off this siren to see if it works. Tricked I tell ya!! I swore not to answer the door but she somehow invaded my dreams and tricked me into answering the door. Trixy Hobbitses. So, not only did I work the regular 12 hour noon to midnight shift on my day off, but it started at 8:00 a.m. making it a 16 hour shift. Nice day off huh? Anyway, Back to RTNSFWD, there's a knock on my door. You can understand my hesitancy to answer it. But something in the back of my mind told me it was OK. I spent the next few seconds mentally battling the curiosity of what was on the other side of the door versus the chilling possibility it could be her trying to suck every last bit of enjoyment out of this war. What to do, what to do. ARGHHHH I answered the door. It was my First SGT. Odd, he's never been to my door that I can remember. We'll get back to him in a minute. Note to self, quit answering door on day off.

When the Brigade that I'm attached to got here, they all signed up for when they'd like to go on leave. During your rotation here in Iraq the Army tries to send you home on leave roughly half way through. Obviously not everyone will be exactly half way or there would be nobody left here. Since I didn't come with the Brigade I didn't get to pick my leave date. I just got put into whatever slot was left. Mine happened to fall at the end of March. That was pretty cool. It was close to half way. It would break up the rotation into smaller somewhat equal more manageable pieces. So I thought. Back to my First SGT.

Knock Knock Knock. "Hey, First SGT, what can I do for you?" said the eager to please, always diligent SGT.

"SGT ______, Pack your stuff you're going on leave on the 10th." huffed the, I don't care what happens in your life personification of the Army, First SGT.

"First SGT there must be some mistake, my leave is in March." replied the never complaining model soldier.

"Nope, you're a filler, you don't get to chose when your leave is."

"But you were the one that told me it was in March."

"Well, It's now do you want to go or not?" Said the, at this point, impatient First SGT

"Do I have a choice of now or later?" implored the desperate but good looking soldier hoping he could go a little later to break up the rotation more evenly.

"Sure you have a choice. Now or never."

So, I'll be on a plane home for 15 days tomorrow morning. Don't get me wrong, I'm very excited to go home, it's just that now it could be a whole year before I'm home again. I just got here. I mentally prepared to go at this thing a little differently. Oh well, What are you gunna to do. My wife is going to tell the kids that she's picking me up and it's far away so it'll take a few days. Then she's going to pick me up at the airport and we're going to stay in a cabin in the mountains for a few days. That way we can see each other and then I can give the kids my full undivided attention. I don't think the kids know yet so lets keep that on the QT.

the way they work the leave seems more than fair. They pay for all the travel and don't count it in your leave time. Once you get to the main airport near where you live you sign in. Then your 15 days starts the day after that. So if you hustle you really get 16 days for the price of 15. A shrewd bargain in any market. And in true Army fashion you don't know exactly when you'll be home until you get there. You don't have an itinerary, you just get the next set of travel documents as you get to each leg of the trip along the way. It's like the amazing race. You know there's an end, you just don't know when or where. I can't imagine why the military is having trouble getting people to re-enlist. Speaking of which, there's a re-enlistment bonus in my unit of $15,000 tax free if you re-enlist while you're here. They announced that and then looked at me and said "SGT, that doesn't apply to you because your IRR. Would you like to re-enlist anyway?" "Um Yeah, I'm going to have to get back to you on that one." How does not now and not ever sound. Not to mention I've already said no, that's why I'm in the IRR and not still in the ARMY. But, that zero dollar re-enlistment bonus sure does sound nice. Especially when everyone else is getting $15,000. By the way, would I have to pay taxes on that zero dollars? The Army, you gotta love em.

So, if you planned on stopping by the trailer to visit or jam or something, we'll have to reschedule. Just leave a note on the door and I'll have my people call your people.

Raise Your Goblet of Rock!

2005-01-07T19:15:00.000-05:00

Today is going to be "Rock the not so free world" day. Back in the States a common cheesy phrase among musicians is "Rock the Free World" It just doesn't have the same ring here in Iraq. I got my guitar the other day and today is my day off. I say today because it's 3:20 a.m. Saturday so technically it's my day off but I haven't gone to bed yet so when I wake up it will be my day off. This will be a day full of melodious licks and fat slabs of juicy distortion that can only be served up by a savory dual humbucker equipped guitar. If that last part meant nothing to you fear not, I will tread onward in my journey of musical nirvana completely unscathed and chalk up your guitar lingo ignorance to complete misfortune. So in tribute to my guitar day you should join me in a toast. First you must get up from your desk or table and assume a hardy, wide footed, legs spread and knees slightly bent, classic rock and roll guitar stance. If you have a guitar even better. If you don't just pretend. It's not like anyone can see you. Or can they? Doesn't matter, your this far into it might as well finish. Besides, I'm here defending your freedom to do things like stand in a Rock and Roll guitar stance any time you want. There's starving kids in China that would love to stand in a Classic Rock and Roll guitar stance. So if it's not too much to ask... Once in your stance extend your left hand as if to hold the neck of the guitar, maintaining your solid guitar stance raise your right hand high above your head as if holding a guitar pick/whatever drink you use to toast. Now in your deepest most guttural gravely slow loud commanding British rock and roll accent exclaim for all to hear "RAISE YOUR GOBLET OF ROCK" and strum a big fat chord on your imaginary guitar. If the mood strikes go ahead and play a few licks complete with your own dance moves. If you happen to work at my church stick your head into Pastor F's office and get a quick picture of him doing this for me. As a true brother in Christ surely he wouldn't deny me this one request. Then when he's not looking put it onto the projector during announcements at church.

Anyway, there is one more order of business to attend to. Some people have asked about the 12 days of Christmas list. For those of you just tuning in, my wife and some friends put together a list of 12 items and mailed me 12 gifts for Christmas. I got to open one each day until Christmas. The list was clues as to what the gifts were. The theme was Lord of the Rings. So here it is drrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr (drum roll)

Day 1 Treebeard = Small Christmas Tree
Day 2 Treebeard's Jewels = Ornaments and lights
Day 3 Gandalf's Light = Mini Mag Lite
Day 4 Helms Deep's beginning = Little Star Wars Lego ships
Day 5 Scroll = Book one in the Circle Trilogy by Ted Dekker titled Black, I subsequently ordered books two and three (RED and WHITE) from amazon.com. These books are great, right up there with DaVinci code.
Day 6 Elfish Songs = The new Jeremy Camp CD
Day 7 Lamnas Bread = Reese's peanut butter cup Christmas Trees
Day 8 A Hobbit's Yule = National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation DVD
Day 9 Hairy Feet = A little stocking for Jesus with a poem
Day 10 A Hobbit's written Yule = A Christmas Story DVD (You'll shoot your eye out)
Day 11 The Precious = Christmas tree lights shaped like the Leg Lamp from #10
Day 12 Trixy Fobbiteses = Gameboy w/ Lord of the Rings game.

I know the movie buffs will say #12 is supposed to be trixy Hobbitses but there's a story behind that. Here in Iraq our bases are called FOBs (Forward Operating Base). Back in the day if you had a job that kept you "inside the wire" you were called a REMF. I won't tell you what REMF stands for but it is definitely derogatory. Anyway, some people now call the ones who have jobs that keep them in the FOB, fobbits. Hence the term Trixy Fobbitses. I had a great time going through each day waiting to see what the gift turned out to be. It wasn't even the gifts that were the best part, it was the thought and care for me that went into the preparation. It really gave me something to look forward to each night. It was great.

Now, in the immortal words of Forest Gump "That's all I got to say about that".

2005-01-06T17:38:00.000-05:00

My room

Guitars, Webcams and Little Green Army Men

2005-01-06T14:56:00.001-05:00

I know it's been a while but it's been pretty busy. Before I get started I would like to point out the picture of Squishy Santa at the bottom of the Squishy Santa post. I finally got the software to post pictures on the blog. I'll try to post some you may find interesting.

Quick update on Squishy Santa. The next day when I went into work there were little green army men lined up on the top of one of the computers. The guy who works there said it was a perimiter defense against Squishy Santa. People talked about Operation Squishy Santa for a couple of days. It seems it was a success after all.

My guitar finally arrived. It actually arrived a while ago but they "forgot" to tell me. Anyway, it's really good to have a guitar back in my hands. I haven't really had a chance to play it yet but Saturday is my day off.

My wife and I finally got our Webcams to work. We were having problems with the server that I connect to the internet through. It works now but my connection is too slow for voice and video so we just chat in the little chat window and see each other in the video window.

This isn't as indepth as most of my blogs but I can't keep my eyes open or think straight right now. Just wanted to give you a quick post since it had been a while. I'll put some more pictures up Saturday and try to give you something a little bit more interesting to read. I'll add a picture to the end of this blog of the view of my front yard on Christmas morning. It pretty much sums up how Christmas was here.

Christmas Morning

Operation Squishy Santa

2004-12-29T16:59:00.002-05:00

Today I launched my first military operation titled Operation Squishy Santa. We work two 12 hour shifts in my section in order to have 24 hour operations. When I came in to start my shift today I could tell there was some pretty thick tension in the air. We work in a room about 10 foot by 6 foot and there's usually anywhere from 2 to 6 people in there at a time not to mention all the equipment. Oh yeah, there aren't any windows either? Anyway, it's not hard to get on someone's nerves after 12 hours of that. Sensing the tension at the shift change I decided to implement Operation Squishy Santa.

Over the Holidays everyone and their brother sent care packages which were greatly appreciated. One item that has been floating around our office, and I use the term office lightly, is a little foam Santa ball. You know the little foam balls they give you to squeeze when you give blood. It's like one of those. I thought it would lighten the mood if when someone wanted to talk to me they had to talk to Squishy Santa and he would relay the message to me. As Operation Squishy Santa unfolded it quickly became an abysmal failure. However, the Squishy Santa ball is now a highly coveted item in my section. I thought in this blog I'd share some of the failures of Operation Squishy Santa with the hope they might help anyone wishing to plan their own military operations in the future.

Here is a list of failures associated with Operation Squishy Santa.

1. My superiors do not think it's funny when Squishy Santa answers questions directed at me.

2. Just because you have a Squishy Santa in your pocket doesn't mean you can ask everyone in the chow hall if they'd like to sit on your lap.

3. Trying to explain to the people in the chow hall that it's O.K. because you have a Squishy Santa in your pocket does not help the situation.

4. Offering to show them the Squishy Santa in your pocket helps even less.

5. The MPs don't think it's funny if I sit in the passengers seat and let Squishy Santa drive the Humvee through the check point.

6. Squishy Santa is not authorized to declare Jihad on the infidels.

7. Although the real Santa may be Omniscient, Squishy Santa is not and therefore should not be used for predictive analysis.

8. "Hey man, would you like to see my Squishy Santa?" is not the proper salutation for my Brigade Commander (a 1 Star General).

9. "Hold on, Let me ask Squishy Santa" is not the proper response to the question, "Sergeant, have you completely lost your military bearing?"

10. Squishy Santa is not authorized to relieve me of guard duty even if I do leave my weapon for him to use.

11. "What Would Squishy Santa Do" is not the new Army Motto.

12. "Come here and tell Squishy Santa all about it" is not an Army approved medical treatment for battle related stress.

13. I still have to listen to my superiors even if I do think that my Squishy Santa can beat up their Squishy Santa.

14. Bouncing Squishy Santa off of my lieutenant's head is not considered P.T. (physical training)

15. Nor does it have anything to do with "sharpening my marksmanship skills"

Unfortunately there weren't really any successes I can share with you. It did make the day go by quicker and got a few laughs. Hopefully you learned from some of my mistakes in this operation and are better prepared to plan your own in the future.

Squishy Santa

Merry Christmas and Welcome To My Trailer

2004-12-27T17:12:00.000-05:00

This is the first blog from my very own trailer in Baghdad Iraq. I got my internet connection up and running on Christmas eve for a few hours and it has been down ever since. As it turns out the Cat 5 cable I told you about in the last blog was an old one I didn't know was there. "How in that monumentally large trailer could you have missed such an object" you say. Well, I mentioned in an earlier blog that my room mate was leaving because of some back problems he was having. Well, he had just tucked it away behind a box he had. When he left it was just sitting there so I assumed it was new. It wasn't. So I stopped by the dudes room that's putting all this fancy stuff together. I said, "Hey dude", really I just asked him when I could expect the internet to be up and running. He told me it already was. I asked when I could expect a cable. You know the old adage be careful what you ask for. Well, he hands me a bulk roll of Cat 5 cable. I had really meant when could I expect the other end of this cable to be sticking through the wall in my trailer. Oh well. I stuck one end through the hole in his floor and started unwinding cable until I got to my trailer. Then, as if by an act of God, a guy comes out of nowhere and asks if I need the ends of the cable crimped. On the surface this may not sound odd but you have to consider the situation. The entire network of cable, and when I say network I mean completely unorganized strands of cable running across the desert floor from room to room, had been set up a few weeks before. Also, It's about 1:00 in the morning. But here is this guy with the special crimping tool and a pocket full of the little ends that go on the cable. Have I wowed you with my command of all these technical terms? So, I get the cable hooked up and a few hours later I'm up and running on the internet. We tried all night and into the next morning to get the web cam to work between me and my wife (who is at my parents right now) to no avail. I'm not really sure what's wrong, but that's a problem for a different blog. Anyway, that was the last time the internet worked in my room until now. For some reason it's been down since early Christmas morning. Contrary to early touting the connection is slow as molasses in January. But, it's still an internet connection in my room in the middle of the desert, in the middle of a war. I don't have much I can complain about. As far as wars go I'm pretty comfortable. I almost feel ashamed when I think of the guys from the World Wars or Vietnam or Korea. You guys had it much worse.

So, after that meaningless paragraph how would you like to hear about my Christmas. Christmas fell on a Saturday which is, on the schedule anyway, my day off. As it turned out it was my first day off since I've been here that was actually a day off. I got off at midnight Christmas eve and fiddled with the internet like I explained in the first paragraph. I ended up going to bed about 7:00 a.m. Christmas morning. I slept until about 3:30 p.m. and then woke up to go to the Haji shop to buy some phone cards for my cell phone. When I opened the door it was pouring rain. It doesn't rain that often in Iraq but when it does it's miserable. Picture that fine dusty black dirt that's really fine and gets into every crack and orifice of your body. Now put a couple of inches of water on top of that for as far as you can see and mix it up really good. Now drive really big trucks and tanks all over it. Then live in it. Oh well, I thought, it's Christmas and I wanted to buy some phone cards so I could talk to my family. I tried to buy them on Christmas eve but it was Friday, the Holy Day here. All the Haji shops were closed. Well, I walked to the entire other side of camp in the ankle deep mud to find the shop closed. No phone cards today. There are two ways I talk to my family. Usually at the phone center with a calling card because it's cheaper, or on the cell phone with a pre paid card. The phone centers are 16-19 cents per minute depending on what card you have, and the cell phones which are supposed to be 35 cents a minute are really 50 cents a minute. Truth and time are two thing in Iraq that don't really hold to the same standard we have in America. However, you don't have to walk far to use the cell phone, and you don't have to wait in line. I did have a couple of regular phone cards because a friend of our sent me $100.00 to buy phone cards for Christmas. I can't believe how much people are helping us out through this. Thanks for the phone cards.

It was about 4:30 now and I was near the tents where the PX is so I walked around in there for a while to get out of the rain and kill a little bit of time before chow. Chow was supposed to be at 5:00 so I showed up at 5:00 to find a huge line and a sign saying it would start at 5:30 Well, it actually said it would start at 1730 but we'll just say 5:30. So I stood in the freezing rain for 30 minutes. It would have taken that long to walk back to my room so I figured what the heck, I'd stick it out. The Army really went all out to make it feel like Christmas that day. There were white silk cloths on all the chairs with red sashes wrapped around them. They had a gingerbread village set up in the middle of the chow hall. There were probably 10 little buildings and they were each two or three feet tall and decorated with all kinds of cookies and candy. They had a jazz band made up of a group of soldiers playing Christmas Songs. And the lights were all off and they had candles everywhere. It was really nice. They had an old man with a white beard and a Santa suit set up with a nice chair and a backdrop so you could get your picture with Santa. The officers were serving the food and it was great. I had honey backed ham, stuffing, green beans, and something else I can't remember but I remember it was really good. It wasn't until this point that I started to feel sad. Up until then it was just another day in the desert. This whole thing has just been a matter of waking up and doing what I had to do and then going back to bed. But seeing all of this made me really miss my family tremendously. When I walked into the chow hall it was like I was really missing home. Everything was so nice and Christmasy but I couldn't stay there. I ate as fast as I could and got out of there. I had to fight back the tears the whole time I was eating. It came as a complete surprise. I wasn't sad going into the chow hall, but seeing all the Christmas stuff really did it for me. I think you go to a place mentally here where you can deal with all the stuff going on and that place has nothing to do with home or the things you're used to in your real life. I never really thought about it until those two realities collided. I just knew I needed to get out of there as quickly as possible. There's nothing more pitiful than a man wearing body armor carrying a loaded M-16 crying. I wanted to stay and listen to the band but I couldn't. So I made my way back through the mud to the phone center.

I ended up in the longest phone line I've ever been in. Usually they don't have anyone monitoring the phone center but it seems to run fairly quickly. On Christmas they had someone there that would let you talk for 30 minutes. (which I found out during my conversation). I never talk that long anyway. We usually talk for 15 to 20 minutes. So 30 minutes sounded like a long time. I also figured it would take forever because the line was so long. It ended up running faster than normal. I guess most people talk longer than 30 minutes on the regular non Christmas days. Anyway, I talked for 30 minutes and when they tapped me on the shoulder I got up and went out to the end of the line and waited to talk another 30 minutes. It was good to talk to everyone. My wife and kids are at my parents house for Christmas. My brother and sisters live in the same area so they could all get together. It sounded like they were having a good time. In real life I live where it doesn't snow, so my kids don't really get to see snow. Their Grandparents live where it does snow. It sounds like they're having a blast. They built snowmen and went and looked at Christmas lights. I'm sure the opened about a billion presents. You know how Grandparents are with Grandchildren. Some of my wife's friends surprised her a mailed a bunch of presents to my parents house for her. I know she was surprised on Christmas and I know it really meant a lot to her that they took the time and thought to do that.

So that brings me up until now. Not much going on with regular life here. We've all been a little more on edge since the attack in Mosul. Death is an ever present thing here in Iraq. I feel so terribly bad for all the families that get calls or a visit saying their son or daughter, or husband or wife has been killed. I hope you can find God's peace in all of this.

Anyway, that's what's going on here. Sorry for the negative tone of the last blog, I shouldn't have said some of the things I said. This place really gets to you sometimes and I should have waited a day before I posted that. I apologize. Everything always seems a lot better the next day.

Next blog I'll share the list of the twelve days of Christmas my wife and friends put together for me. Now that I can get on the internet I'll try to post more frequently. I've missed dong it, it gives me an outlet to release some stuff. Thanks for reading and feel free to pass the address on to anyone you'd like. I love to get comments (hint hint).

Random Thoughts With No Particular Focus

2004-12-18T08:32:00.000-05:00

The Army, Ah what can you say about the Army. If the Army wants to do something their not supposed to do they simply title the action something else. For example; (I'm not sure a semicolon is the right thing to use here) If something goes wrong in a mission we don't retreat, the Army never retreats, instead we perform retrograde maneuvers. If they want to physically punish you for something they don't put you through physical duress or anything, they perform corrective training. Let's pull a purely hypothetical situation out of thin air. If they (read someone in particular higher in rank than I am) plans poorly, for multiple weeks in a row, they don't actually take away your day off, for multiple weeks in a row, so you can fix stuff, they just move your day off to a new day to be determined later. And when that day is decided upon, they move it further.

In this blog I would like to share some seemingly random thoughts. In order to make it easier to follow I'll start out with a brief outline of the contents. There will be times that none of it makes sense but just take the good with the bad and hopefully you'll fell a little more informed on the other end. I know I'll feel a little more relieved having shared it.

Part 1. Thoughts about a song I like.
Part 2. Thoughts about my boss.
Part 3. News about my internet connection.
Part 4. Being in a foreign country.
Part 5. Christmas so far.
Part 6. Update on my roommate
Part 7. Differences between church back home and here.

Part 1. Thoughts about a song I like.

There is a band I like called Third Day. I got to see them in concert a while ago and they are great. On one of their albums they have a song that talks about the old saying "If you can't say nothin good don't say nothin at all".

Part 2. Thoughts about my boss.

This part left intentionally blank.

Part 3. News about my internet connection.

A cat 5 cable showed up in my room through a hole in the wall someone drilled the other day. It runs behind the row of trailers where I live. I only noticed it because I tripped on it in the dark after walking back from the shower the other night. I plugged it into my computer but it doesn't recognize that there's a network on the other end. Today as I was walking to the computer lab to post this blog I traced the cable to it's source. There were a couple of guys working on some satellites so I struck up a conversation with a black haired flaminco dancer....Wait a minute, I struck up a conversation with them and found out the network should be up in the next two or three days. That will be very cool.

Part 4. Being in a foreign country.

Everything about this place is foreign. In my job I deal with a lot of information about the local populace. I expected this to be a foreign adventure but there are many things I didn't expect, everything is foreign. The smells, the interaction with the people, the plumbing, the electricity, everything is so different. Some of the electrical connections are a British type of a three pronged plug kind of like our 220 volt plugs. Some of them are a different type with two small round barrel type plugs. The toilets don't actually flush like our do. They just fill with water and eventually flows out of the toilet. So if you have to use more than one square of toilet paper the toilet won't be useful until the cleaning people come in and do whatever it is they do to clear them out. So if you have to do anything besides pee your better off in the Port-o-podies. Regular readers will know that I actually prefer the port-o-podies, but it is still winter, we'll see when it's 140 degrees out. I'm not sure what the news back home says about the upcoming elections but they aren't anything like what we think of as elections. Back home we have to major parties and only a handful of parties that don't actually stand a chance, and it's a good bet that the loser won't just kill the winner after the elections. Well, here there are basically three major sects that break down into about 150 different parties. Most of these parties would just as soon kill the members of the other than to lose an election to them even if they are in the same sect. It will be interesting to see how the elections go off and then see how the results play out.

Part 5. Christmas so far.

I think I already mentioned that my wife and some friends back home sent me presents to open one each day until Christmas with some clues about the gifts. The clues had to do with the Lord of the Rings. The first clue "Treebeard" was a small Christmas tree. The second clue "Treebeard's jewelry" was some lights and decorations for the tree. The third clue "Helms deep's beginning" had me confused. I figured the first two out no problem but couldn't get the third. In case you've been off planet on vacation for the past three or four years and aren't familiar with the Lord of the Rings trilogy, Helms Deep is a large fortress used for protection. Well, Helms Deep's beginning turns out to be bricks. More specifically in this case Legos. They sent me some little Star Wars Lego ships. I really enjoyed these. I open the gifts when I get off of work and I've put one ship together each night for the past two nights. I've got one more to put together tonight. I know it may sound silly but it's been great. This war isn't terribly demanding on me physically, but mentally it is non stop. There are times I get off of work and call my wife and I can't even connect sentences because my mind is numb and I'm so tired. To have something as simple as Legos, that have nothing to do with this war, to spend some time on is great. The fourth clue was "Scrolls" I figured it was a book and I was right. The book is called "Black" and it's by an author named Ted Dekker. I read another book by him recently called "Three" and it was great. I would highly recommend it. When I get the internet access in my room I'll try to figure out how to put a list on the side of this page so I can list the books I've read while I've been gone. Even though your dead tired at the end of your shift you have to populate your mind with something other than the war. Reading works well. Today's clue is "Elfish Tunes" which, coupled with the shape of the present, is probably a CD. I'll let you know how the rest of the trail unfolds. I'm really happy with the idea they came up with to string Christmas presents along for 12 days. It really gives you something to look forward to each day. Also, Some friends and family put some money together for me to buy a guitar while I'm here. They do sell them here but they're very expensive and very poor quality. It was cheaper for me to order one from one of the online music stores and have it shipped here. I ordered the guitar and some other little gadgets to help move along the idea of having an albums worth of music by the time I leave Iraq. That may be a larger task than I have time to accomplish. We'll have to see.

Part 6. Update on my roommate.

I took my roommate to the TMC (Troop Medical Center) the other morning for him to ship out to Germany. He'll be there for a while while they treat him for some nerve damage in his back. So, for the time being, I once again have a room to myself.

Part 7. Differences between church back home and here.

The differences in church back home and here are purely physical. God is still God here or at home. The difference here is I go to church in a tent surrounded by concrete bunkers to protect us from mortar attacks while we're in church. Our Chapel shares some real estate with our Paladin Guns so during service the ground shakes as we send artillery down range. And I don't know who coined the phrase quiet as a church mouse, but they aren't really all that quiet. Oh yeah, everyone has a loaded weapon. They are building a permanent building for the chapel and they hope to have it done by Christmas Eve. I'll post some pictures once I get the internet access in my room.

Well, If you followed all of that you should be commended. Once I have a little easier access to the internet I'll try not to use the shotgun method of communication and try a more focused approach. But with time being of the essence there you go.

Thanks so much to the people back home that have sent cards and packages. That's a morale booster the effects of which you'll probably never understand. Also thanks to the people and organizations that send boxes and cards to units to distribute to the soldiers. The delivery of the mail is the happiest time there is. The sacrifices you've made to give some cheer to the soldiers here is appreciated by everyone here without exception. Thanks aren't enough to communicate how this makes us feel, but Thanks.

Second Day Off

2004-12-09T03:53:00.000-05:00

I guess since my last post was titled first day off and this one is second day off that means it's been a week since I posted. The days don't mean anything here. One is just like the next. I knew it had been a few days since I posted last but I didn't realize it was a week. I guess time flys when you're liberating a country. Let's see what happened this past week.

Yesterday LT Hook Me Up got everyone's room numbers so they could start running the cat 5 cable to the trailers for our internet access. I can't wait for that. I'll be able to post a lot more then. I also got three packages this week.

One from my wife and kids and some friends back home, one from my mother-in-law, and one from my Mom and Dad and sisters and some friends where I grew up. It was great to get these.

My wife and kids sent Christmas presents that are numbered. They go along with the 12 days of Christmas. Each day I get to open one present until Christmas, then my kids sent me a few presents I can't open until Christmas day. There is also a list that goes along with the presents. They picked the Lord of the Rings as a theme. The first two gifts are called Tree Beard and Tree Beards jewelry. Using my keen analytical skills and judging by the shape of the boxes I'm guessing the first two are a small Christmas tree and some ornaments. Honestly I haven't even had enough time to look at the rest of the clues to guess what they are. I think I'll look at the later today.

My parents and family sent me all the snacks and junk food you could want. In fact I didn't even go to dinner last night. Instead I ate cashews, honey roasted peanuts and my all time favorite "Monster Cookies" If you haven't had monster cookies they go a little bit like this. About 50 pounds of peanut butter, a small wheel barrow load of butter, oatmeal, and M&Ms. There's probably more to it than that but I've never actually made them. I have, however, eaten more than my share over the course of my life so far.

My Mother-in-law sent me a box with a stocking and nuts in it. When I say a box of nuts I don't mean a box of nuts. I mean a BOX of nuts. There's probably 10 pounds or more of assorted nuts. She also sent a nut cracker. So we have a box of nuts sitting in our room and we eat a few here and there. You know the typical story about mother-in-laws, but I got lucky. She's a great woman and I'm glad to have her. Even though I'm not supposed to peak I saw in the stocking a copy of the movie "It's a Wonderful LIfe". I'm glad she sent it because I don't think I can remember a Christmas where I didn't watch it. It's one of those stupid little qwirks that don't really mean anything but it's just one little unexplainable piece of home I'm glad to have. It was very thoughtful, thank you.

Usually my room mate comes and picks me up at the end of my shift to go eat dinner. Last night he didn't show up. It wasn't too odd because there are days he works late. So I walked home with the plan of Monster cookies for dinner in my head. It got to be about 9:00 p.m. and he still wasn't there. I had to go to the supply guys to get some stuff and they asked me if I heard about my room mate. When some one in a war asks you if you heard what happened to your room mate that usually means about a week later there's a building named after them somewhere on camp. This sort of freaked me out at first but this is what happened. His back had been bothering him since we got here. He went to sick call a few times but all they did was give him motrin. Well, yesterday when he woke up he couldn't move. I had already left for work so all he could do was yell and throw things at the wall whenever he heard people walking by. I guess this went on for a couple of hours until someone heard him. They had to get the ambulance to take him to the TMC (Troop Medical Center). So at about 9:00 I walked down to the TMC to see if he needed anything. He was asleep so I went home. AT about 6:00 this morning he knocked on the door, I guess he forgot his keys, and got some clothes. They're going to take him to a hospital we have set up somewhere else in Iraq for an MRI. I hope he's O.K.

Well, I'm going to go enjoy my day off. Everything here is fine. Contrary to a rumor that I understand is going around I don't believe our camp was bombed last week. My wife said she heard that. If it was I must have missed it. But I think you would notice something like that.

I'll leave you with a few thoughts from Murphy's Law of Warfare.

Friendly fire isn't

The cost of a weapon has a direct correlation to how far away you have to send it to get fixed.

Field experience is something you don't get until ten minutes after you needed it.

stay tuned for more.

My First Day Off

2004-12-02T06:10:00.000-05:00

Welcome to my first day off. I thought I'd share the day with you so you could see some of the things that go on over here. First some administrative information.

I have to move out of my room. So far I've had a room to myself and I thought as long as I kept quiet about it I'd still have a room to myself. However, in an effort to make the soldiers happy and comfortable the Army decided to switch out the one inch thick foam mattresses on our beds with a very well meaning but much more uncomfortable version of a regular twin mattress. In order to do that a guy from KBR (Kellogg Brown and Root, they run everything over here) came around to see how many mattress were needed. Bada bing bada boom my evil plans were foiled. However, the room I'm moving into, though occupied by another person, is larger than the one I'm in now. It's the same size trailer, but instead of being divided into three rooms it's only divided into two. I'm surprised they don't make us put three guys in it. I hope no one from KBR reads this and gets any ideas. All in all I think we're probably the most comfortable soldiers in Iraq. Notice I said Soldiers and not Airmen. The Airforce is historically much more comfortable than the Army. If you're thinking about enlisting and you enjoy comfort keep that in mind. Also do a little research on the IRR, you might change your mind. Anyway, I'll be moving today.

Woke up about 10:00 a.m. My 12 hour shifts 6 days a week have turned out to be more like 13 to 13 and a half hours. For some reason known only to God and the Army my noon to midnight shift starts at 11:10 and ends about 12:30. I guess it's just easier to say noon to midnight.

Showered and shaved and headed to breakfast (lunch). On the way I dropped off my laundry. KBR has little trailers around where you can drop it off. A nice lady helps you inventory your dirty laundry and fills out a receipt for you to come back in two days to get your laundry. Not a bad deal really, it's free. They take the laundry off in your laundry bag to some laundry fairies somewhere and they magically reappear two days later clean as a whistle.

Got to the chow hall a few minutes early along with about a thousand other people. I stood in line behind a soldier talking about how she couldn't pass her GED or the ASVAB but the recruiter let her in anyway. She seemed pretty proud. Had Pizza and cranberry sauce with some red gatorade and a glass of ice tea. On the way out I grabbed two oatmeal raisin cookies and saw some guys I know. I told them about having to move and asked if they got new mattresses yet. After I told them the story they both, not having room mates, decided their imaginary room mates would be out on patrol if anyone asked.

Next on the agenda was a call to my wife. I don't usually call her this time of day because it's middle of the night for her but I had an important financial transaction pending and it needed immediate attention. More on that later. The phones and internet have been down for a little while for various reasons and I really needed to get in touch with her because she has all the money, Oh yeah, I love her too, can't live without her, I'd give my life for her, but she has all the money. I woke her up and got the proper approval to pursue my plan further. With a smile on my face and a spring in my step I hoofed it to the finance building conveniently located about 1000 miles from anything. Right next to the post office. You can eat and get shot at just about anywhere you want, but if you need money or mail you'd better have a vehicle or a free day of walking.

Money is an odd commodity here in camp. Cash rules the world but everyone has direct deposit so nobody actually has cash. The PX takes credit and debit but you can only get $20.00 back. If you need money you have to go to finance. You can draw $350.00 casual pay per month that is taken out of your next check, or you can cash a $250.00 check I think once a week. I never need this much money except on this wonderful momentous occasion. I got to finance in a little under a week and a half, really more like 30 minutes. Signed in and waited in line. There were so many people in line you'd think they were giving out money or something. When it was my turn I took out the maximum $350.00 and folded it safely into my black nylon wallet with handy Velcro closure. Velcro is on everything but it's not really all that tactical. You better hope you're not trying to sneak up on someone and realize your extra magazine of ammo is in it's little Velcro pouch on your body armor. Anyway, money in hand I went to find the man we'll call lieutenant "hook me up". He works in our brigade HQ. Which is about half way back from "1000 miles from nowhere".

Found the LT and handed him 300 cold hard cash in exchange for a receipt. LT "hook me up" struck up a deal with some hajis to get us a satellite with internet access. It's supposed to be 512 up 512 down for those of you who know anything about bandwidth. I have my doubts about the 512 up part though. Anyway, it's going to be a ton faster than the dial up service I have back home. I still can't believe I'm in Baghdad fighting a war and I have a cell phone and will soon have internet access in my room. If you didn't get shot at, and they paid worth a darn I might think about sticking around. And if it wasn't far from home, and you didn't have to run, or listen to people 10 years younger than you with no education tell you what to do, or if it wasn't the military. On second thought, I think I'll come home when this is done. Anyway, I paid my 300 for my share of the equipment and the first three months of service. Actually this covers me and my new room mate. He's going to give me his half later. I believe he will because when I was talking to him I was holding a loaded weapon. Who lies to a man with a loaded weapon? After that the fee will be $30.00 per month per room. A paltry sum. The plan is to be able to talk to my wife and kids over the web cam. It won't cost anything for that. Opposed to anywhere from 30-60 cents a minute elsewhere.

After the exchange I stopped by our company HQ to pick up my Humvee license that was supposedly ready two days ago. No big surprise, it wasn't ready.

I'm not sure if I'm getting used to a level of dirtyness or if they really keep things clean here, but I made the following observation. After leaving the Company area I stopped off at one of the port-o-podies to drop the kids off at the pool. Before I could stop myself I thought, "Wow, this one's really nice." No sooner had I thought that than I looked at myself, figuratively of course, and thought, "did you just say this port-o-pody is nice?" In all actuality it was one of the more satisfying port-o-pody experiences I think I've had. I think I'm going to vary my walking pattern to work so I can pass that one more often. Maybe when I get internet access in my room and there's any interest I may even post some pictures. We'll see.

Well, That brings me to the computer lab where I am now. I checked my e-mail and started in on the blog. It's only 3:00 p.m. so I've got a lot of time left today. I'll probably get a haircut and pick up the laundry I dropped off a few days ago. I didn't get it when I dropped off the other because I didn't want to carry it all over camp. Also, I'm not sure why, you're not allowed to bring any bags of any type into the chow hall. That's unfortunate because it's in the same area as the PX. So if you buy anything at the PX you have to carry it back to your room and then walk all the way back to the chow hall to eat. I'm sure there's a good reason. Wait, no I'm not.

After that I'll pack all my stuff and move into my new room. I've been going to the gym every night after work but I think I'll skip it today. I've really been working hard on my upper body, and I'm really seeing results. Have you seen the movie Troy? Well Brad Pitt plays the part of Achilles. There's more than one time when he takes his shirt off and flashes his big pecs and rippled abs. Yeah, mine don't look anything like that. I usually get home about 12:30 or 12:45 and go work out in the gym until about 2:00 a.m. Then I shower and go to bed. I'm not sure what my room mates schedule is but I'm sure we'll work it out.

Got My First Mail

2004-11-28T10:23:00.000-05:00

I've been away from our camp for a few days. We had some convoy training to do at a different camp and since it's convoy training you can't exactly convoy to the training. So in the first few hours of thanksgiving morning I was flying over Iraq in a Chinook helicopter. How many people can say that? We did some close quarters training where you'd have about 30 guys firing all around you all within inches of each other. It was pretty cool. Up until then I had never fired my weapon with anyone else firing within 50 feet or so. It was good to have all that chaotic firing going on around you and be able to trust that your buddy wasn't going to shoot you. We also fired from a bunch of different positions just to get familiar with being able to react to any situation. The camp we went to had accommodations that just don't quite meet the luxury digs I'm used to so far in war time. It was small and dirty but had a neat "Haji" shop. Locals come in and sell just about anything you can imagine. These guys had hundreds of DVD's for $3.00 a piece. I bought the Polar Express to send home to my son and Troy for myself. They get the movies out on DVD like immediately. Thy even had National Treasures, didn't that just come out? I'm sure they're bootlegged somehow but they play just fine. They come with the jacket cover from the DVD but they're in a plastic sleeve instead of the hard plastic cover. One thing I learned is if one of them starts dancing around and asks you if you want "fiki fiki" it's not really the kind of movie you want to take home to the kids. It's hard to communicate because their English is so broken and my Arabic is non existent. So here I am looking at these movie and trying to talk to one of the guys. He kept saying" is good? Is good?" and showing me all of the movies on the rack. I kept saying no because I hadn't found what I wanted yet. That's when he gets a bright look on his face and starts the fiki fiki dance. To do the fiki fiki dance you hold your arms out to the side slightly bent and shake your chest and shoulders while swaying back and forth. Not understanding what fiki fiki was I follow the mysterious dancing man over to one of the tables where he pulls out a box and shows me the movies. Fiki fiki loosely translated must be freaky freaky and involves many people with very little clothing. Once me and all the guys around me got a good laugh we moved away from the fiki fiki section. I picked my two movies and asked how much. He said $6.00 but I only had $5.00. I said how bout 2 for $5.00. He says "tomorrow 2 for 5, today 2 for 6. I said how about today 2 for five and tomorrow 2 for 6? I showed him the money and we had a deal. I'm pretty sure that if you walked in there with just one dollar you could walk out of there with something. Some of the stuff is a good deal but some of it's not. They got some Xboxes somewhere and were selling them for $250.00. I'm not a gaming connoisseur but I think they're really cheaper than that in real life.

Well, we were supposed to fly back after the third day but they canceled our helicopters. The only problem was they didn't tell us they canceled our helicopters until we had waited in the freezing night for, oh about 8 hours. So at about 2:00 a.m. we got some cots out and went to sleep. At 5:00 a.m. they woke us up and said our helicopters would be there that night at 10:00 p.m. I looked at my watch and figured they could have waited to tell us that but there was another reason they woke us. We had to put our cots on a truck back to camp victory. So much for sleeping. All said and done it was a lot of fun. During the convoy training you would drive down the road while these targets popped up. As any good soldier would do you proceeded to blow the crap out of anything that moved. All the while your flying down the road in a humvee. Pretty cool.

When I got back my platoon Sgt had a card for me. It was a thanksgiving card from Cousins P&M. That's the first mail I got. It was postmarked the 22nd and I got it on the 26th. Maybe even earlier because I had been gone. That's faster than I thought it'd get here. Thanks for the card. I hope the Thanksgiving dinner was good. We got to eat a Thanksgiving dinner out in the field. They had everything you'd have at a regular dinner back home. The cooks even dressed up like pilgrims.

I found out that I'll start work tomorrow. I'll work from Noon to Midnight 6 days a week. I think it'll be good to start because I should be able to get into a routine. We took a tour of Saddam's Baghdad complex today. We got to go into the big palace here in Baghdad and see some of the buildings on the lake. Our whole compound is surrounded by cement walls and barbed wire that Saddam was nice enough to have installed before our arrival. This whole area was his palace and recreation area. Apparently the whole place was stocked with animals and he would hunt and water ski here.

I can't post any pictures because you have to install software to be able to post any pictures. The Army doesn't like it when you install software on their computers. Something about going to jail or something. We are, however, supposed to get satellite internet access in our rooms soon. Can you believe that. It's even going to be faster than the service I have at home. This is more like camp than war. The Family Readiness Group for our unit raised a bunch of money to buy it now it's just a matter of having it installed. I'm not sure what the timeline is. Whenever that happens I'll be able to post pictures from my own computer. I also bought a sim chip for my cell phone the other day. They work on a pre paid system here. You buy the chip for $50.00 and then charge it up $20.00 at a time. It costs 39 cents a minute to call back to the states. I have a local Iraqi phone number and can receive phone calls. Incoming calls and text messages are free, but I don't know how much it costs to call here from the states. If you want to give me a call ask my wife for the number. I'd be more than happy to talk to you on your nickel. I only turn it on when I'm in my room so you don't have to worry about alerting the enemy to my whereabouts. "Ah, habeeb, could you stop shooting for a second, I really need to take this call, thanks...Hello"

That's about all that's going on so far. Let me know if you'd like to know about anything else. Thanks for all the comments and e-mails. They're like getting presents everyday.

First Few Days in Baghdad

2004-11-22T08:39:00.000-05:00

There are three separate posts for today so you should probably start with the one called "How I Got to Kuwait" and work your way back up to this one.

The first few days have been pretty cool so far. Both in content and temperature. I haven't really been in extreme danger so far and I'm sort of having fun. I finally feel like I can settle in and get this thing started. It's just like camping in the desert with a weapon.

When we first got here they gave us a few briefs on rules and conduct and things like that. It just so happened that they dropped us all of at the unit I was going to. When we were jumping off of the trucks I heard someone calling my name. When I got to that person it was the commander of my unit. He said they'd been waiting for me for a while and they were glad I finally made it. That was pretty reassuring to know there had actually been a plan from the start. In the back of my mind I was afraid I'd show up and they'd be surprised I was there. After that we were assigned to our rooms.

I was surprised to find that we were living in trailers. This is about the best senario you can ask for. We live in these trailers sort of like a small mobile home. They're divided into three rooms that each have an outside door along the side of the trailer. Each room sleeps two people. There are two beds and two lockers and an air conditioner in each room. The room is about the size of an average bedroom in a house back home. They have electricity but it's 220 and they use British plugs. I am very comfortable in my room. They have a bizarre next to the PX where local merchants sell anything from jewelry to computer parts. I bought a little voltage converter for $15.00. The bizarre is kind of neat because it's just like what you'd think a third world market would be like. It's dirty with so many different smells. It's busy and many different languages are flying around all over the place. One booth could be selling knives and kids clothing all in a 10 foot square. There doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to the arrangement of merchandise. I think they just sell whatever they can get their hands on.

The chow hall is awesome. It's run by a civilian contractor and it's great. They have every kind of food you could imagine. It's organized with your usual main line where you get your meal, but then there are all these little bars around to get whatever you want. There's potato bars, ice cream bars, sandwich bars, pizza bars, salad bars. The food is very good and the place is very clean. I'm really surprised at the quality of food. A million times better than at Fort Hood.

We had a class yesterday on cultural awareness. They had local Iraqis come in and give the class. It was really interesting to learn about their culture and customs. I really feel like the Iraqi people support what's going on here. Well, at least the ones our government is paying to come in and give us the classes. I was a little embarrassed at the amount of knowledge they had about my country, language, and culture. I don't know anything about theirs. Americans really live in this little bubble of our own.

I did a little work on my weapon at the range today and it shot a lot better. We got to watch some of the snipers qualify with their 50 cal sniper rifles. When one of those goes off you're glad you're on the sending end and not the receiving end. The sound alone can probably kill small woodland creatures. My M-16 puts a hole the size the end of a pencil in the target. Those rifles put a hole the size of my fist in the target. If I don't get another weapon I feel pretty comfortable with this one. No matter where you go you have to carry your weapon with live ammunition. Even to the showers.

Well, now that I'm caught up I'll try to organize my thoughts a little better from now on. I've got an address here now you can get from my wife or my parents. If you hurry it's not to late for Christmas. Not that I'm fishing for packages or letters or anything. In fact e-mail would be fine. I might need to clear up some information I wasn't clear on. In an earlier post I said my address was no longer good because I was leaving Fort Hood. I meant my mailing address. My e-mail address will be the same forever. I've had some questions on that and thought I should clear it up. By the way, the person who told me he wasn't e-mailing me because of that little misunderstanding still hasn't e-mailed me. You know who you are. Speaking of that person, for all you left handers out there the Iraqi people think it's impolite to eat with your left hand, when we asked why they said that only the devil eats with his left hand.

Hello From Baghdad

2004-11-22T07:53:00.000-05:00

Well it's been a while since I've had time to post or had access to a computer. I'm now in Camp Victory Baghdad. The name is actually changing to Camp Liberty. So much has happened in the last week I hardly know where to begin. (At this point you need to imagine the deep baritone voice of the guy who narrated the Mighty Mouse cartoons.) When we last left our hero (me) he was dangling by a thread anticipating the issue of body armor among other things. Will he get it? Will he not? Will he need it if he does get it or will the forces of evil prevail against him. Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion of "Does Anybody Really Care".

I suppose it was the 17th of November when we walked down to the RFI (Rapid Fielding Initiative) site for some more gear. There were about 90 of us and they asked who didn't have body armor. Everyone raised their hand. The guy who asked the question let out a line of explicatives and asked why the explicative we left the states without body armor. When we told him they sent us out and told us our armor would be here in Kuwait there were a few more minutes of explicatives followed by a short pause then a few more explicatives to finish the point. He told us he didn't think he could come up with that many. So, off we marched to get the rest of our gear with the body armor issue no closer to being solved.

We were given some pretty cool stuff though. We got two more pairs of boots, brining the total so far to 5, we were measured for the new ballistic helmets and told we would get them in a few months. As with all things government these were awarded to the lowest bidder. It is a mom and pop shop somewhere in the Midwest and he is nowhere close to being able to stay up with the demand. Oh well, my old kevlar helmet will still stop a bullet. I think, I've never actually tested the theory. They also gave us a camel back bag you fill with water and wear like a backpack. It has a tube that comes around front that you can drink out of. They gave us some fire retardant gloves and some fleece pants and jacket. The jacket and pants are my favorite pieces of gear the Army has ever given me. We also got some cool Willey-x ballistic sunglasses, some silk weight long underwear, and some socks and t-shirts. All in all this was the best issue I've ever gotten, I'm more than pleased with these items.

After we got all of that cool stuff we went back to our barracks and put it all away. All that gear brings me up to 4 duffel bags worth of stuff. One and a half of which are, as we speak, sitting under my bed in a category I like to call "why the heck did I have to carry this useless junk half way around the world?" To our surprise a guy showed up with three different sizes of body armor for everyone to try on. A few hours later we walked back down to the RFI center and signed for our body armor with plates and all. If you've ever seen the movie Blackhawk Down you can see what the plates sort of look like when the guy decides he doesn't need the one in the back of his armor and lays it on the floor. That's not something I plan on doing. With the plates in it the body armor weighs 40 pounds or so. This is a weight I don't mind carrying.

Well, we didn't do too much more in Kuwait except drive to the Air field to fly out to Baghdad International Airport (BIAP). Here's how that went.

We were supposed to fly out on the 19th. We loaded all our duffel bags onto a truck and convoyed to the air field. Once there, we unloaded all the duffels, 90 people times 4 duffel and one personal bag per person, onto these big pallets. Then we put big cargo nets over them and cinched them down. This was about 10:00 in the morning on the 19th. A few hours later half of us plus two pallets of bags loaded on a c130 and taxied out onto the runway. Then we stopped and were informed that not all the engines worked and we'd have to get off the plane. So we did. We waited in a big tent for a few hours and then were told we couldn't leave until about 3:00 p.m. the next day, Oh yeah, your bags are still loaded on the pallets so you can't get them out. Not to big of a deal, so we thought. We spent the rest of the evening in a tent talking and eating MRE's until we went to sleep on cots. The temperature was probably in the 60's and kept getting colder. It would have been O.K. except they had these huge air conditioners blowing full force and everyone was shivering. Then it started to rain. Finally we decided we were breaking into our bags anyway, which were outside in the rain. I found my fleece jacket and my poncho liner, which is sort of like a blanket and slept the rest of the night no problem except the tree days worth of fuzz that was now growing on my unbrushed teeth. The next day we flew to Baghdad without incident. When we landed there was a small PX right off of the runway, our bags were still on pallets but one the top to one of my friends bags was poking right out of one of the spaces in the pile of bags. He had just enough room to open the padlock and wiggle out the blessed item on top of his bag. A tube of toothpaste. I hurried into the PX, which was the back of a semi trailer, and plunked down 50 cents for a toothbrush (mine was still in the pile of bags it had been in for about three days.) It is a good feeling to brush your teeth. I think if you want to live this adventure right along with me you should not brush your teeth for three days, walk, not drive, to your nearest walgreens, scrounge a squirt of toothpaste from someone you've just met, and buy a toothbrush. My dad was right, it is more satisfying when you work hard for something.

I think this blog has served it's purpose so I'll catch you the rest of the way up to speed in my next blog.

How I Got to Kuwait

2004-11-22T07:44:00.000-05:00

This is a blog I did on my computer a few days ago and haven't had a chance to post yet. Though I don't use profanity this particular blog alludes to it.

11-16-04
Camp Doha
Kuwait

We started our trip to Kuwait at 3:30a.m. Ft Hood Texas time. We didn't take off until about noon. First off we carried our three duffel bags worth of stuff downstairs to be loaded on a truck and ultimately the plane. Then we drew weapons and MRE's (Meals Ready to Eat) for the trip. When I came around the corner from the weapons room I was forcibly volunteered to be the seating NCO (non commissioned officer) for the plane. This is important later. Every task in the Army has something called the NCOIC (NCO in charge) For this particular task I was supposed to make sure everyone filed onto the plane and filled it from the back in an orderly fashion. One of my friends was in Saudi Arabia for the first gulf war and has story about being the NCOIC for a particular duty. It seems at this particular camp they didn't have port-o-podys, they had these little huts with a big metal drawer under them. The only way to get rid of the previously made deposits was to take them out in the desert and burn them. So him and another guy would take these big drawers and load them onto a humvee and take them out in the desert. Now, as he explains it you have to imagine carrying a big metal drawer full of urine and feces. The shear grossness of the task makes you laugh, the more you laugh, the more it sloshes around. The more it sloshes around the more that gets on you. The more that gets on you the only thing you can do is laugh and the cycle starts again. Once there they would pour some fuel on the drawers and let em burn. You can imagine the smell that would permeate your clothes and skin. He said it would even smell when he'd sweat because it would come out of his pours. Anyway, in colorful Army terms he was called the crap burning NCOIC only his title started with the letter S. I guess that was a pretty crappy job. (sorry, I had to) At this point we weren't sure what type of plane we would be on or how many seats it would have. The morning progressed like this with us sitting outside under an awning in the freezing rain. We had already turned our room key in and had nowhere else to go.

When it was time for us to get going we went to a gym on post where they were playing really loud, really bad country music. I know what you're saying, is there such a thing as good country music? I'll let you debate that fact. So, after sitting here for a few hours we finally get on a bus out to the flight line. To our satisfaction we were flying on an ATA 757. I was the first on the plane so I could do my all important job of seating NCO I'd been training all these years for to find we had about three times the number of seats that we need. So we put two people to each row of three seats. When it was all over I got to sit where I wanted. I got a whole row to myself. This came in handy when I wanted to fold the arms up and lay down across the whole row.
A few hours later we were at McGuire Air Force Base in New Jersey. We picked up a few more people and some more equipment. They had a small USO in the hanger where you could get some free snacks and sodas and play games like ping pong and pool. I'm proud to say I skillfully defeated all ping pong challengers. All two of them. We stayed here for a couple of hours and then boarded the plane.

A few, few more hours later we landed in Shannon Ireland. We got to spend about an hour in the terminal. It was middle of the night for them so there weren't many people in the terminal. They did have a duty free shop where you could buy stuff. A few guys bought Cuban cigars for $160.00 for two boxes. He says it's a good deal but it sounds expensive to me. They took Euros or American dollars. I tried to get some euro coins but they wouldn't change dollars to euros. If you paid in dollars you got dollars for change. They did have a little exchange place but it didn't open until the next morning. The ATM, however, disbursed euros as an unfortunate soldier accidentally found out when he tried to get one hundred dollars out. He was surprised to get euros. If you went to Ireland and used an ATM what do you think would come out. He got a few people to buy them but they were close to 20 dollar notes and I didn't want that much.
A couple of more hours and we were in Budapest Hungary. They didn't let us off the plane here so we spent the next two hours looking out the window.

22 hours after we left Fort Hood we landed in Kuwait.

The trip was actually quite comfortable. Since it was a civilian plane we had stewardesses and hot meals and in flight movies. I got quite a bit of sleep off and on. When we landed in Kuwait it was morning by my biological clock but it was late at night locally. We got a few briefs and went to midnight chow. This was the best food I've had since being back in the Army. Since it was midnight chow we had the choice of breakfast or lunch. The chow hall was big and nice. So far it doesn't really feel like a foreign country. We're on an American installation surrounded by Americans. The only thing that looks different is the signs written in English and Arabic. And the Kuwait license plates on the numerous SUVs. They put us in a building with a bunch of bunk beds and we tried to sleep. I got about an hours sleep and couldn't sleep anymore. I walked down to the AT&T phone center to call my wife to tell her I got here alright. I found that the exchange rate on phone cards is 10 to 1. So the 500 minute card I had was worth 50 minutes. I'm not sure what it'll be like in Iraq. I've heard of different options like VOIP (Voice Over Internet Protocol) apparently there's a company called Segovia that has set up these types of phones in certain camps. You can go to their website and charge minutes to a virtual calling card. I've heard anything from 5-10 cents a minute internationally. Hopefully this option exists. The time difference is close to half a day ahead of the states so if I call in the morning I get my wife before she goes to bed. If I call before I go to bed I get her just after she woke up. So far so good. We're supposed to get more equipment tomorrow, including body armor. I'll let you know what happens.

Well, I'm Back

2004-11-15T13:17:00.000-05:00

Got back to Fort Hood on Saturday night, it was raining and cold. Woke up Sunday morning to go to church and it was still raining. Long walk plus freezing cold rain equals go back to bed. Woke up this morning to go to breakfast and it's still raining. It's kind of nice because they don't make you stand out in it so once you go back to your room it's too hard for them to find everyone if they've got some stupid stuff that needs to be done. Speaking of stupid stuff, here's one for the "just shake your head" file. I got back on Saturday the 13th. Went to the chow hall for dinner and there was a sign on the door saying the chow hall was close for the week and will re-open on Monday under new management. Under new management?? How does a chow hall on a United States Army Post re-open under new management. Who's going to manage it now? Canada? Not likely, they're the Switzerland of North America. I don't think they'd get involved. Maybe Mexico, the food would probably be good but stay away from the water. Whoever is running it now it was opened for breakfast this morning and didn't seem much different.

Right now it's 12:30 ish just after lunch. Just before lunch we turned in our sheets and blanket in preparation for leaving tonight. We're not sure if we're flying out at 2:00 a.m. or going to the airport at 2:00 a.m. but so far we know that something is happening at 2:00 a.m. It's quite possible that at 2:00 the thing that happens is that they tell us nothing is happening. Either way I'm packed and ready to go with three duffel bags worth of gear and a small handful of personal items. I'm glad I didn't really bring anything because you're only allowed three duffels and a carry-on. The stuff the Army issues you takes up 2 3/4 duffels so you basically have room for a shaving kit and a bible. I'm not sure if you can bring more back than you brought but how many times have you gone somewhere for a year and didn't come back with more stuff? My plan is still to acquire a guitar while I'm there even if I have to give it away or sell it at the end. My goal is to write an albums worth of music while I'm over there and hook up with some guys I've played with back home and start a band. It's been my only dream since I was old enough to have dreams and I figure now's as good of time as any. So if any record labels or independently wealthy music lovers wants to fund our first tour leave me a comment.

The vacation with my family was awesome. We spent a few days at home, went to Disneyland and gave them all of our money, then spent a few more days at home. I know all the sappy stuff about cherishing your family and absence makes the heart grow fonder but I did have a great time. In normal life you have so many other things going on that compete for your attention. On this leave time I didn't let other things have my attention. We even told people that we couldn't have dinner with them or go out because we wanted to spend all of our time as a family. Thanks to those people for understanding. It was a fine line between worrying you were offending someone but really needing to spend the time as a family. Thanks to our friends for understanding.

The plan from here is to go to Kuwait for an undisclosed amount of time to do something I have not yet been told. Then, at another undisclosed time we will move to somewhere in Iraq by an undisclosed mode of transportation. That's how much I know about what the future holds. In fact I had to stretch some of it just to make a sentence. I'm sort of glad I don't know because how can you worry about something you don't know is coming.

I'll try to post as much as possible. I figure some pretty interesting things are about to happen so feel free to ask questions. Treat this as some sort of interactive journey where you can live vicariously through me. You don't get to be as good looking as me but you can pretend. Also you don't get a weapon, but so far you already have the same body armor I have.

Last Day of Leave

2004-11-12T13:45:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow I have to go back to the Army. Blah. It's been great to be back with my family. We spent part of this leave at Disneyland and had a blast. Other than that we've seen friends and just hung out around the house. I took the kids hiking yesterday and went on a "tiger hunt". Although it was pretend my boy had some trouble going to sleep last night.

I'm not sure when I'll have a chance to post again. I fly back to Texas tomorrow and then to Kuwait on Monday. I'm not sure what will happen after that or what the communications options are. I'll try to post as often as possible. I'll probably write the posts off-line and then upload them when I get a chance. Also, it'll probably be a while before I have a good address again for mail. If you have my current one it's not good anymore. Anything you send to that address will either get lost or returned. If you know my wife or parents they should get the new address whenever I do. Mail of any kind is always appreciated. If you know any soldiers over there drop them a line. Mail is a real morale booster. Packages are even better. Go to google and search for packages for soldiers or anything like that. This will give you ideas for things to send. Snacks, books, magazines, and powdered drink mixes are always popular if you know what they like to read. There are companies out there that will sell you a pre assembled package and mail it for you if you're not sure what to send. Go to www.usps.com/supportingourtroops/supportingfaqs.htm
for information on sending mail and packages to soldiers overseas.

That's about all I have here. The adventure is about to really get underway so stay tuned.

It's Been a While

2004-11-04T13:48:00.000-05:00

I know it's been a while since I blogged but it's been pouring rain for the last couple of days and the computer lab is a long walk. So here's what's been happening since last time. Nothing. The validation process proved to be the type of thing that's reinvented after every use. I did get validated mid day Tuesday, bought a ticket to fly home a few minutes after that, and am now writing to you from the comforts of my own home.

It was a happy reunion at the airport. I'm going to be home for about ten days and we're going to Disneyland for our first time as a family. I'm not sure who's more excited, my wife or my kids.

Remember the hotel fiasco? Well, the money finally caught up with me. The Army gave me about $1,200 more than what it actually cost me. I didn't realize this but if they don't provide you housing they will pay for your room plus give you a per diem. So they basically paid for my flight home and our trip to Disneyland.

At the risk of sounding like a preacher for two blogs in a row I have a question. What's the one thing in the Bible God says to test him in? Giving your tithe. The most miraculous part of this deployment has been our finances. With the change in income you naturally worry about money. We haven't had one problem with money that I know of. In fact, money has just been coming out of nowhere whenever we need it. Our church took up a collection before I left that made up the gap of the initial income change shock and then some. People from our church have been to the house to mow the lawn, fix some plumbing, babysit the kids. And now the Army was nice enough to give me the money to take my family on vacation before I head over to Iraq. I honestly think this is a direct result of our faithfulness in tithing. I'm not saying this to blow my own horn. I'm saying it to blow God's horn. I want you to view this as proof that God holds to his promises. When I share this story with people some of them say, " oh great, all I hear about church is give money, give money." It's not that at all. It's a test to see if I'm going to trust God with my money. Giving money has nothing to do with the church making money. Can I prove this? Yes. The amount of money the church gave my family the day before I left to go back into the Army was more than the total amount I had thithed in the whole year before. Business wise the church didn't make any money on the deal. So if the Bible talks about tithing only to make money that wouldn't have happened. If God is who he says he is, you know created the whole world and all, raised from the dead in three days, fed the five thousand, would he really need my money? No. It wouldn't mean anything to him. It's just a test to see if I'll be obedient when he asks me to give ten percent of my earnings to the church. Look at the returns he's given me. Anyway, give it a try, see what happens.

Well, I probably won't post to much while I'm on leave. For those of you tired of hearing me talk about God and the Bible stick around. I'm leaving for Iraq in less than two weeks and should have plenty of blood and guts and Army type stuff to post then. Should be something for everyone.

Don't Just Do Something, Sit There

2004-10-31T14:25:00.000-05:00

That's what evil in this world hopes we do. It worked in Germany with Hitler, and if we don't do something now it will work in America.

What was it like in school when you were a kid. I'm 31 years old to put things in perspective. When my parents were children the bad things going on in school were things like talking in class or chewing gum in the hallways. When I was in school the bad things were smoking and drinking. Sex was an issue but it wasn't the norm. Now that my children are starting to go to school the bad things are drugs, sex, prostitution, murder. These are things going on in the schools.

This is the last Sunday before the elections and I'm sure many of the sermons have to do with that issue in some way. Some might be about the moral decline of America. Some might be about apathy and inaction. Ours was about inaction. I'd like to share some of the points the Army Chaplin shared in my service and mix them with my own. Hold on while I climb up on my soapbox.

Why are we fighting this war? Because the only thing evil needs to win is for good people to do nothing. If we don't fight it now in Iraq we'll have to fight it later in America. Duty is my responsibility, results are God's responsibility, all I have to do is make the stand and fight. Growing up in my short life time I've seen the morals of our country decline and sometimes felt like there's nothing I can do about it. There really isn't anything I can do about it alone. But if we stood as a nation and said "We won't stand for this any longer" things would change. Since the inception of our nation our foundation of Christian principles has wavered. It wasn't that the world came in and pushed us off course. It's because when the world showed up we stepped aside and let them take over because we didn't want to ruffle any feathers. In the book of Matthew in the Bible God calls us the Salt of the earth. Our Christian faith and morals that our country was founded on were supposed to be the guiding rudder to the ship of America. We were never supposed to be passenger in the journey of our nation, we are supposed to be the navigators. Hope is out there, peace is out there, we just need to stand together and help shape the future towards it.

Well, Now that most people have clicked to a different website I'll tell you what's going on in my world. You may have seen in the news lately that the Department of Defense stopped the Anthrax vaccination program. How does this affect me? Apparently it takes three injections to gain immunity. I've only had the first two. The DoD says they need to pause the program so the FDA can iron out some legal issues. So what does that do to me? I don't know. Can I only touch two dead cows and the third one will give me anthrax? If I get anthrax will it only affect one third of my body? Nobody knows. But as it stands there are no more vaccinations until further notice. I'm not really worried because I know God goes before me.

Now that we have a definite date we're leaving the country it feels much more final. There are lots of emotions in the guys here. Probably in the girls here too, I'm just not around any to see it. Some guys all of the sudden have some terrible medical problems they feel need immediate attention. Fact or convenience? Not for me to say, just seems a little curious.

Anyway, I'm in an introspective mood today and don't mean to bring anyone down. So, if you're an optimist then in the famous words of the oracle from the Matrix, As soon as I walk out of here I'll be right as rain. If you're a pessimist then heed the words of the lead character in the movie All Mine To Give. "Sometimes life's just a puke sandwich."

Done With Training

2004-10-30T15:35:00.000-05:00

In order to leave the country your training has to be "validated". All this time everything I've done has been recorded and we turned it all in Friday. Some people look over it and check to make sure you has the right skills set to go to Iraq. This, like everything else in the army, changes pretty regularly. So for the last three days we've done the same class three times in a row. First they told us if we did it as a unit it would count. So we did. Then they said," no, your going to have to go out in the field again and have someone else give you the class." Alright, whatever. Then they said, "no, maybe what you did was good but we got rid of the roster", so instead of making a new roster and having everyone sign it we had to do the class again. Finally, they weren't sure again if it would pass so to be absolutely positively sure we better do the class one more time.

If you got lost in that last paragraph don't worry, I lived it and I still don't understand it. However, we're finally done and should be validated by about the middle of the week. Once we're validated they're going to let us take leave for a week or more. We have a definite date we need to be back, but the date we can actually go on leave depends on when they consider us validated. Either way I should get at least a week, probably more. Then I'll come back and fly to Kuwait the very next day. It looks like we'll spend a few weeks in Kuwait before going into Iraq. Then the adventure will start a whole new chapter.

For now, all I have to do is wake up, go to formation and then do nothing. Not too bad. So far we haven't done any P.T. but they say since we're done training we should start. So, starting Tuesday we have to get up earlier and go running. I know it'll pay off in the long run, but who wants to get up earlier and run?

One thing I forgot about the army was that everyone smokes. Non smokers are the overwhelming minority. The crappy part is that every so often all the people whether you smoke or not have to do a "police call" in the smoking area. Even though there are four giant trash cans and two smaller smoking trash cans for some reason the smokers still throw most of the butts in the rocks around our barracks. So for a few hours last night we had to pick up all the cigarette butts all around the barracks. I hate that job. I didn't put them there, in fact I don't even spend any time around there because the smoke is too thick. And since every task in the Army has at least two smoke breaks involved half the time we were picking up the butts the smokers were taking a smoke break. So who does that leave picking up the stupid cigarettes? The non smokers. I guess it's good we don't walk around with live ammo all the time.

Anyway, A few people have asked about the chow hall and I've never given a good description. So here goes. You usually have three meat choices. They're usually BLAH, barbecue BLAH, or BLAH with gravy. Then there are usually two potatoes choices and mixed vegetables. The food isn't terrible but you could close your eyes, point randomly at what you wanted and it would taste exactly the same every time no matter what you were eating. I'm interested to see how they handle the food situation in Iraq. I guess I'll see soon.

Cool Couple of Days

2004-10-26T17:00:00.000-05:00

The last few days have been pretty cool. The Sergeant Major told us in formation yesterday that we were pretty much done with our training. Just a few more classes. Our ship date has been pushed back a little and he said once we were done they'd try to get us some leave before we ship out. That would be pretty cool. It's been a few months since I've seen my kids. It'll be hard to leave them again but worth it.

Yesterday we went through the gas chamber. It's a little different from basic training. In basic you had to go in with your gas mask on and stand under a number on the wall. The guy in charge would tell you to do some stuff like jumping jacks or something. Then you'd take a deep breath and close your eyes while you lifted your mask away from your chin. This let the gas into your mask. Then you put your hand over the input part of your filter and blow out to clear your mask. At this point your face is on fire and your eyes are tearing up. If you're lucky you clear most of it out but there's always a little left. Instinctively you take a breath and your lungs start burning and your nose starts running. After a few minutes they tell you to take your mask all the way off and do it again. OK, no problem so far. After that's done they tell you that you have to take your mask off and when everybody has theirs off you can leave the room. So, you take a big breath, close your eyes , take your mask off and wait, and wait, and wait. Just about the time I couldn't hold my breath anymore the drill sergeant says as soon as number ten takes his mask off we can leave. At this point I can't hold my breath anymore so I turn and look at the guy in the number ten spot. This knucklehead has his hands over his mask and isn't moving. By now you've already taken a few small breaths of CS gas and your eyes are on fire. All the guys in the room rush the number ten guy and try to pull his mask off. He's holding on for dear life and doesn't care what happens. As if we were telepathically connected we all decide the best way to get him to part with his mask is to beat the snot out of him. So we all start pounding him and eventually he lets go. Finally we got his mask off and threw it across the room. He bolts for the door but the drill sergeant won't let him out. By now we've all taken a few deep breathes of it and are hacking up lungs while this guy tries to get out. We're all collected at the door, stomping up and down doing a rendition of what they call the kickin' chicken. You're taking breaths but you don't fell like your getting any air. Now the Drill Sergeant says we can't leave until number ten gets his mask back. Well, he decided he's not leaving from the door for anything, no matter how hard we pound him, so we have to go get his mask and bring it to him. Finally we're out the door, snot running all the way to the ground, some guys are tossing their breakfast and we're all running around waving our arms trying to get the gas out of our clothes. Nobody can see a thing because our eyes are burning and one guy runs smack into a tree and knocks himself almost unconscious.

Man, Good Times.

Well, this time around you just had to break the seal and clear your mask. No problem. After that, the guy in charge asked if anyone wanted to take their mask off. He said it was completely optional. That's kind of like saying, "Hey, you won the lottery. Would you like to pay taxes on that? It's completely optional." If something I don't want to do in the first place is optional I'm not doing it. Well, of course there are a few "high speed" guys that have something to prove and they take theirs off. That's fine. If we ever get chemically attacked I hope I'm standing next to them. It'd be nice to know if it's safe to take my mask off or not. Besides, I'd like to see if those atrapine injectors they give us really work. What better way to try it than on someone else. This gas chamber wasn't too bad though. A little burning on the skin but it only lasted ten minutes or so.

Today went well. We got a few classes out of the way and I got promoted. For pay purposes it was effective on the 13th of October. In the Army the stupid stuff rolls down hill just like anywhere else. Now I'm just one step further from the accumulation at the bottom of the hill. Now, instead of wallowing in it I'm merely wading.

I know I've complained about the weapons and the body armor a few times and some of my family has voiced serious concerns. I would like to put those concerns to rest. I fully expect to get body armor in Kuwait. It's just fun to complain about it some times. And they have confirmed that this is the weapon I'm taking over seas. They say I may trade it over there for a new one, but not for sure. That's alright though, the problem is with the front sight post and can be fixed. If it is the weapon I end up with it shouldn't be too much of a hassle to fix it and re zero.

I'm Back

2004-10-24T13:29:00.000-05:00

Well after five fun filled days in the field here's what I have to say. It rained, there was mud up to my ankles, it was hot and humid, since I don't have body armor I had to wear the monumentally heavy Vietnam era flack vest and we ate MRE's for most of the time. And you know what, I loved every minute of it. I love going to the field. It's like backpacking with a weapon. It's like playing Army but with real toys. What could be better. There's simulated mortar round exploding everywhere, civilians walking around dressed like Arabs trying to smuggle weapons in and out of check points, and Army food. The training was pretty good. Actually it was the most comfortable time I've ever had in the field. They called the training "The FOB" That stands for Forward Operating Base. They had a camp set up similar to what it's supposed to be like in Iraq only much smaller. There were about seven or eight circus type tents set up in various locations. These were command centers, 2 DFACS (dining facilities) and sleeping tents. The cool thing was they were all air conditioned. Can you believe it, what's the Army coming to. I never had air conditioning in the field before. In fact, not that I'm complaining, I was freezing every night. I figured we were sleeping out side like we had every other time I'd been to the field so I only took the outside cover part of my sleeping bag. The temperature in those tents had to be high 50's or low 60's. When you walk out of the back of one of these tents there was a flat bed trailer from a semi that barely held two air conditioning units, one per side of the tent. They had these huge tubes like those collapsible tunnels you'd play in when you were a kid. These were hung from the ceiling of the tents and ran the entire length. They had little holes that the cold air blew out of. We also slept on cots. If this is how they are in Iraq I'll be more than comfortable. I didn't count but I bet the tents held about 150 - 200 cots. Not much privacy but sure beats the heck out of sleeping in the mud. They had these trailers that had showers and sinks in them with hot water and everything. Best time I've ever had in the field. A lot of guys complained but I had a blast. I woke up every morning with a smile on my face and came in every night covered in sweat mud and dirt and still had a smile on my face. The only down side is that my orders for my promotion hadn't come in before we left so I only had one uniform with the correct rank on it. Five days of sweat and mud later that uniform could stand on it's own.

The training was pretty good. It was all focused on basic soldier skills needed for Iraq. The unit in charge of training us is just finishing up their time here and the unit that's taking over was there to observe. The cool thing is the unit taking over is made up of people that have just come back from Iraq. So we would go through a class and then they would say " here's how it really is" and give us the real scoop. A word about Army training. Nothing in the world can take place unless there's an Army regulation or Field Manual saying it can happen. I mean anything. There's even a field sanitation field manual. Loosely translated how to poop in the woods. Whether the information is still useful or applicable there's a regulation that tells you how to do just about everything. Unfortunately most of these focus on fighting the Russian doctrine, not the guerrilla warfare we're seeing in Iraq. However, it seems like the information is flowing to the training pretty quickly, especially with the guys just getting back and starting to do the training.

The most important thing I got out of the training was convoy safety. It seems like convoys are a particularly dangerous adventure in Iraq. Right in the middle of the training, as we're standing in ankle deep mud, having the fear of God driven into us about the dangers of convoy operations, the Major in charge comes up and stops the training to introduce our "very important guests". The San Francisco 49ers cheerleaders. Low and behold out of a black SUV jump four or five girls in warm up suits right in the middle of the muddy woods at Ft. Hood. They said they were happy to be there and what heros we were for our sacrifice. Then they wanted to give us a treat by signing autographs of a swim suit calendar they had put together. They were more than happy to sign as many autographs as we wanted on all the calendars we were willing to buy. WHAT? Willing to buy? For one thing, I didn't really care about the cheerleaders, I was more interested in not getting blown up on a convoy. For another thing, If we're such big heros and they're sooooo proud of us give the calendars away, don't make us pay for them. I chose that time to eat my beef and mushroom MRE. It seemed the Sergeant giving the class wasn't very amused either. He let the little party go on for fifteen minutes or so and then about 10 feet from the cheerleaders he set off a hand grenade simulator. These have all the bang without the bite. At 30 feet or so it'll make your ears ring and you can feel the concussion in your chest. Those cheerleaders screamed and jumped back into their SUV and decided that was enough of the Army and we went back to training.

All in all I had a good time in the field and I think I got some really useful training. When we got back they told us we had a van reserved if we wanted to go off post and go out to eat. After 5 days of MRE's going out to eat sounded pretty good. We cleaned our weapons and took showers and two minutes before the chow hall closed (which is a five minute walk) they decided we weren't allowed to go off post anymore. No reason, just not allowed to. If we didn't like it we were more than welcome to take it up with the Commander on Monday. Lots of good that did us for dinner that night. So now it's too late to eat at the chow hall and we can't go anywhere to eat. That's how stupid some things in the Army can be. Fortunately there's a Papa John's that delivers to our barracks. Some times you have to look at the Army and just shake your head.

Some people have asked what body armor is. If you go on Google and search for Interceptor Body Armor you can see what it is. It's a vest with removable plates in the front and back. With the various options it comes with it can protect your torso from throat to groin. Most all of your vital organs are protected. Or you can wear the old flack vest that, for the most part, will dissipate the blow of a punch in the stomach by an underdeveloped middle school kid with asthma and a retainer. No offense meant if you fall in that category.

Well, I'm back and I'm happy. The next step in training is the Gas Chamber. That should be fun.

Gonna Be Gone for a Few Days

2004-10-18T17:36:00.000-05:00

I've got some training coming up that'll keep me away from a computer for a few days. I should be back this weekend or so. Just thought I'd let you know so you didn't worry. I'd also like to thank Tess for being my first guest celebrity and being a good sport about it. I don't think I'll be around for mail call this weekend so I'll answer a few questions now.......O.K. one question

How's the chow.

It's here and I get it three times a day. And that's all I have to say about that.

Today has been one of those "do stupid things you've already done a million times because we don't have anything better for you to do" days. There are four or five of us a few days ahead of the others in training. The last few days they've let us do constructive things like read or go to the library or do laundry. Today they decided we should just redo some of the classes we already did just so we would be doing something. They put a guy in charge of us who meant well but didn't really have any sort of plan. This turned into a full day, I repeat a FULL, MIND NUMBING, JAB YOUR EYES OUT SO IT'LL STOP day of listening to some guys recall stories of the stupid things they did that caused a judge to give them the choice between the military or jail. They were pretty proud of the wrong they'd done. I'm not that much older than them but it seemed different when I grew up. It didn't seem like the kids were so blatantly disrespectful. Maybe I'm just seeing a small concentrated sample.

Anyway, that has nothing to do with anything so I'll get on with this.

Have you read about or heard of the Soldiers in Iraq refusing to go on a mission because their equipment was bad? Well how about this. Everyone in my unit that has gotten their gear got body armor. I went through last Wednesday and didn't get any. They said they weren't giving it out here anymore and I'd have to get it later. They couldn't tell me where or when later would be. Well, the group that went trough on Friday got brand new body armor still in the package. I don't know about the other three guys that went through with me but I don't plan on doing to much fighting without body armor. I'm sure it'll get fixed eventually but when it comes to my weapon or body armor I'm not going to take "I don't know" as an answer. I'll let you know what happens.

Tess is Great

2004-10-17T13:11:00.000-05:00

I would like to address the comment left by Tess. If you haven't read it you can look at the first comment to the post titled Mail Call on Oct 15th. First, I appreciate her (I'm assuming it's a her) concern and thank her for looking out for me. Also I think it's cool that she came across the site accidentally. Thanks for posting your comment. Opsec (Operational Security) is a big concern in the military. Some people might remember the phrase from the first and second world war era "loose lips sink ships". Opsec was a concern of mine when I started this blog in the first place. When I got my orders and started to do some research on the internet I came across these things I'd never seen before called bolgs. Some of them were like the one I've made where they keep their family and friends updated, some were political in nature. One blog in particular gave me the most information of any one source out there. His blog was shut down by his chain of command because they felt he was giving out too much information. I thought about the whole blog thing for a while before I actually started mine. In order to make sure I didn't violate any security concerns I decided to use the litmus test of open source news. I wouldn't post anything you couldn't find in a newspaper or on the evening news. I've never said what unit I'm in or where we're going or what our mission is. Any information I've given could be found by doing a search on Google and looking in nothing more than newspaper articles. If I told you what unit I'm in you would even be able to find our deployment schedule along with numbers of troops in each unit. This is all from open sources. I understand your concern and thank you for it. I'll make sure to be extra careful in the future. I also encourage anyone with concerns comments or questions like Tess's to feel free to comment. It also gives me material to write about that I don't have to come up with. In fact I'd like to sing a song to Tess. Please follow along with the melody from Bill Cosby's chocolate cake song. If you don't know it make up your own. Ha Hem.... "Tess is great, She gives me stuff to write about" You sort of have to scrunch the words "write about" together to get them to fit in but it works. Thank you Tess and thank you Bill Cosby.

Mail Call

2004-10-15T10:37:00.000-05:00

First question is about a book I read and if I would recommend it or not. The book is called "A Table in the Presence" by a navy Chaplin named Carey H. Cash. It tells about the first few days of the war when we crossed into Iraq. It talks about some of the spiritual needs the soldiers were facing and some pretty miraculous things that transpired. I would highly recommend this book.

A few people have asked if I'll be able to keep the blog up when I get to Iraq. I should be able to. It seems there are tents set up with internet access and many people have bought satellites and put them on top of buildings for satellite internet access. As one unit rotates out they sell them to the next unit. Believe it or not I've heard of many people having internet access in their rooms. Different kind of war huh? It seems most people are now living in what they call containerized housing units. These are small little two man rooms that are pre constructed and shipped to Iraq. They're supposed to have air conditioning and electricity in them. Your living conditions really depend on where you go in the country. Once I get there I'll try to post some pictures. In order to post pictures on the blog I had to install some software on my computer, since I can't use my computer in the computer lab I can't post any pictures right now.

In regards to voting. I haven't voted yet but will probably next week. Soldiers can send in a national absentee ballot. Apparently it's a little different from the state absentee ballot you would have mailed to you from your state.

I think I have a definite ship out date now. For the last few days they've been telling us we'll be flying out on November 8th. They've said the same date enough times in a row that I believe it to be true. Looks like the adventure will take another step forward shortly.

Take a Deep Breathe, This is a Long One

2004-10-14T17:23:00.000-05:00

Man, it's been a while. We've been pretty busy the last couple of days. I'll try to catch you up on the last few days.

Tuesday:

Tuesday morning we got to formation and they told us to get ready to go draw our desert uniforms. This is always a good sign because it means you're one step closer to going over, which means you're one step closer to coming back. I also recently found out that I'm promoteable and all I lack is a record P.T. test. That's physical fitness test. Well, the last one I took was probably five or six years ago. When I got out of the Army the first time I had three short term goals. Don't wake up early, don't run, and don't shave. I'm proud to say I accomplished those goals almost immediately. In fact, the "don't run" one was still in effect until Tuesday afternoon. An army P.T. test consists of two minutes worth of all the push-ups you can do followed by two minutes of all the sit-ups you can do followed by a timed two mile run. There's a chart that tells you according to your age and sex how well you have to perform in each of these three events. Those performances are translated into a number. Each event has a maximum score of 100 for a total 300 possible points. You need 180 to pass but you have to have at least 60 points in each category. When I was in the Army the first time I would score 290 or better. This time I scored 186. Let's just say it's two days later and I'm still hurting from the run. However, I passed and got my commander to sign a memo to fax to the proper people to get my promotion. More on that later. I spent the next few hours showering and not moving at all. Next thing I know it's morning.

Wednesday:

Wednesday morning we were told to draw our weapons to go to the range and qualify. All of the IRR guys just qualified last month. In fact I shot 38 out of 40. That's important later for comparison purposes. We had the certificate to prove we had just qualified but they said too bad you have to shoot again. That's not really all that bad because, as we discussed in an earlier post, who doesn't like shooting little paper men. However, we asked if this was the weapon we were taking to Iraq and nobody really knows. I figure if it's not the weapon we're taking why waste a day when there's other stuff we could be doing. Then again the Army doesn't generally ask my opinion so I went. First you go to a range to Zero your weapon. You shoot a series of rounds and make adjustments to the weapon. Then you go to a different range and qualify on little plastic target that pop up and different distances aptly named pop up targets. I couldn't get mine to Zero though. I've never had any trouble Zeroing. This was sort of a shot to the pride because I always zero easily and shoot very well at the range. In fact it's never taken me more than one try to qualify, even the first time around in Basic Training. Remember last month I shot expert. Well, they said it was good enough so I needed to move on to the qualification range. OK, they know what's best right. Well the first time around I shot 19 out of 40. A remarkably embarrassing score That's like shooting ten over on every hole on the golf range. I know this from personal golfing experience. Second time 18 out of 40. Third time 22 out of 40. You need a bare minimum of 23 to qualify. Everyone else qualified first time around except me and another few guys, by the second time there were only two of us and his weapon was broken so he had a valid excuse. Third time around I found the problem. The front sight post on my weapons wasn't fixed in place, it could move up and down. Now, I told myself, it wasn't my fault. Well the lieutenant with us had another opinion and since there is no possible way I could know anything about anything his was the only opinion that mattered. Well, I'd swallowed my pride already but I was still hurting from the P.T. test, so every time I had to go out and fire I had to lay on my stomach and support an M-16 with my elbows propped up. By the fourth time my back was killing me. I feel sorry for the people that have to fight next to me in Iraq. I'm going to have to call a time out every now and then. So, the fourth time I shot 23. We started this whole fiasco around 7:30 a.m. and now it was about 5:45 p.m. I had just enough time to eat for the first time that day and get back by 6:30 to night qualify.

To qualify at night they hang a chem light on a target 50 meters away and you shoot at it 30 times. It's not really an aiming challenge as much as it is to familiarize yourself with shooting in the dark. Well, The first round nobody told the guys running the range we needed to qualify, so they didn't turn the computer on to track our hits. So wee all shoot and go back to the van to go home. The L.T. comes running over and says we have to fire again because of the mix up. What are you going to do. So we get back in line and wait for our turn to fire again. When you're firing at night you load tracer rounds in your magazine after every so many rounds. These make a red streak from your weapon and you can see where the rounds are going. These are pretty cool because it looks like lasers from Star Wars or something. The bad thing is there burning pretty hot by the time it hits it's mark. The grass way down range caught on fire. Not a big fire, but it still needed to be taken care of. Nothing in the Army happens right away. A bunch of guys have to get together and see who's more important so they can use his idea of how to rectify the situation. Apparently fires are the same way. It took 30 or 40 minutes for them to decide 6 guys should walk up to the small fire and kick dirt on it. After the 30 or 40 minutes they needed about a fifteen minute safety brief followed by 5 minutes or so to get ready. Finally the fire was stamped out in about 5 seconds. The range was clear. By this time most of the chem lights had gone out. So the second time around you didn't know where the target was. Can you guess what the Army answer to this one was. Just point your weapon down range and fire all of your rounds so we don't have to turn them back in. How will we qualify you ask? Good question. The L.T. runs out of the tower to tell us how bad we did. I hit the target 6 out of 30. I thought that was pretty good, what are the odds I'd accidentally hit the target six times on blind luck? He didn't see it that way. Two of the lanes had the 18 hour chem lights on them so they broke the ten of us up and ran us in shifts through those two lanes. You only had to hit it 7 times so after I hit it 10 times they told me to rapid fire down range to get rid of the ammo as fast as I could. As long as I qualified I didn't care so look out here goes nothin''. I pretended I was one of the guys on the A-team and we were trapped in an impossible situation with only a bulldozer, some conveniently placed armored plating and a welder. I laid down some rapid cover fire while BA welded us a tank so we could drive out of town. Those dirt mounds didn't stand a chance. Sixteen hours and one meal after the day started I took a shower and went to sleep around 11:30

Thursday:

Not much going on today so I faxed the memo for my promotion and followed it up with a call. The guy on the other end told me he had gotten the paper work and I should see my promotion orders this time next week. About that time I got all of my desert uniforms back from alterations with the now incorrect rank on them. You get four sets of uniforms so I took three of them back and got the new rank put on. I figure if I need one before next week I'll have it. We're still wearing the green uniforms right now anyway. I'm pleased with the promotion. It'll be a few hundred dollars a month extra but, more importantly, it takes me one step further from crappy jobs. Now instead of them saying "Specialist, take this bucket of crap and go burn it", they say,"Sergeant, tell a specialist to take this bucket of crap and go watch him burn it." Also, as if by the miraculous hand of God waving over in a majestic tribute to knowledge, I am actually allowed to make decisions now. I'm sure glad that happened, I don't know what I've been doing for the past 31 years of my life.

That's it in a nut shell. Tomorrow should be a regular day so I'll be able to get back here to the computer lab to do mail call. By the way, today's my 31st birthday. Happy Birthday To Me, La La La La La La.

Thanks For The Comments

2004-10-10T09:32:00.000-05:00

Like the title says, thanks for the comments. It's cool that people I don't even know are reading the blog. All the comments that are posted are also forwarded to my e-mail account. The first thing I do whenever I get onto the internet is check my e-mail with giddy anticipation. It's always cool to see comments. One of the commentors, not to be confused with co-mentors, even left the address to his blog. While we have differing political views it is exactly that right to have your own opinion that we're fighting for in Iraq, and we fought for here on our own soil a few hundred years ago.

I'm still on my extended weekend vacation with my wife here in the thriving downtown metropolis of Copperas Cove, Texas. If your in town drop me an e-mail, maybe we could have lunch. So far we've just bounced around the area, did some shopping for the kids and saw a movie. We're really just relaxing and talking and taking it easy.

I just wanted to post a quick thank you for the comments. Comments are kind of like when you we're in college, or camp, or somewhere away from your family and you got mail. You remember going to the mailbox everyday with that small glimmer of hope that there might be a letter or note only to have your frail hopes dashed against the razor sharp rocks of lonely disappointment. Well it wasn't really that bad but you get the picture. So thanks for saving my frail psyche from a watery grave.

Once the Army starts up again I should have more interesting things to post.

Mail Call

2004-10-08T20:51:00.000-05:00

Today is the first installment of Mail Call. As I get the electronic letter opener out and put on my pretend reading glasses I peer into the curiously empty mailbag. I can count on one finger the number of posts that request an answer. This shouldn't take very long. First though, I would like to make a request. I see the counter on the right of the screen going up so people must be reading this page but, I'm not feeling the love. My request is if you read this post please leave a comment. You don't have to say anything but hi. Just click on the comments thing at the bottom and post the word hi. That'll give me an idea of how many people are actually reading this. I'm starting to think it's just my Mom and Dad getting on about a hundred times a day. It would just sort of let me feel connected to you guys a little better.

The question asked was whether or not I saw the first presidential debates and what I thought. I'll answer this from the point of view of how this effects me as a soldier.

Please read my disclaimer to the right. This post is only my opinion. I'm not extremely well versed in politics and would probably lose most political arguments. However, I've done some research and here are my feelings. Feel free to agree or disagree. Just make sure you vote to validate any opinions you might have.

I did see the debates and was a little surprised. I thought Bush was going to come out as the clear cut unquestioned winner. John Kerry surprised me though. He was clear and concise and seemed to leave president Bush stammering a few times. John Kerry said a number of times that he had a four part plan to win the peace in Iraq and then start to withdraw the troops. He referred to his plan a number of times but didn't line out the details. I went to www.JohnKerry.com and read his plan. He plans to expand the number of troops we have, Increase the number of special forces, modernize the military equipment, and strengthen the National Guard to increase homeland security. The things he doesn't say are how he's going to do these things. How is he going to get 40,000 more troops to volunteer to join the Army? I could come up with that as one of my points in a presidential campaign but I couldn't back it up. I don't think Kerry can either. He also talks of modernizing the military to be able to fight this new kind of enemy. He faults the president for not having us trained now to fight them. My argument is that no matter who the president was when we fought Iraq it would have been the same. We have always been successful fighting the way we fight so why would we have changed. John Kerry just has the advantage of hind sight and not being the president responsible for Iraq to fall on. I don't really see how John Kerry will do the idealistic things he is offering.

This war was started by President Bush and should be finished by President Bush, or at least his plan. I think the conflict in Iraq will last longer than President Bush. Having been in the Army under Bill Clinton and now again under President Bush I have seen a transformation. The Army is much more fluid and capable of change now than it was the first time I was in. I think the Army will totally change it's fighting methods in the next few years no matter who is the Commander and Chief. Kerry claiming he wants to transform the military is a self fulfilling prophesy. It's going to happen anyway out of necessity. The fear I have is that we withdraw troops too early from Iraq and nullify the sacrifices made by American men and women so far. We can't afford to lose in Iraq or everyone with an AK-47 will think they can be the United States. Not only that but the war in Iraq is a lightning rod for terrorists. As long as we're fighting them there where it's convenient for them to fight, they're not coming over here to America. President Bush started pitching this game and he needs to finish it.

I also fear what John Kerry said about putting the American defenses up against a more global test. The rest of the world doesn't elect the president and shouldn't have the final say in how we defend ourselves as a sovereign country. The president and the American people have the final say in how we defend our nation. President Bush has the courage to do that and he will get my vote.

Mrs. GWM

2004-10-08T20:41:00.000-05:00

Since I am here (Mrs. GWM), I thought I would take the time to check out my husband's laptop and post a blog at the same time. I personally like how the keys click on the keyboard and the screen is really nice. Two thumbs up for this magical portal into the world of the internet. I hope you all are enjoying my husband's view of his experience, and of course his sense of humor. I strongly encourage you to post a comment when you have a chance. This blog allows us to feel connected with GWM and his IRR life right now. I think it would help him to feel connected with you through your comments. Well, I must pass the computer over for mail call. Take care.

Gonna See My Wife

2004-10-08T13:59:00.000-05:00

I found out Yesterday that we're going to get a four day weekend this weekend. I found this out about lunch time. At the same time I found out we weren't going to get a chance to see our families before we deploy like eveybody else did since we're coming through on the tail end of our Brigades deployment. What they call the "Main Body" left for Kuwait this week and we'll follow behind and catch them there or in Iraq. So the plan here is to push through as fast as possible. The bad part about that is we're getting the junky left over gear. So far we haven't gotten the cool gear like the camelback water systems, the new lighter stronger Kevlar helmets, or the Wiley-X sunglasses that everyone else got. Why? Because the supply Seargent has already left. That's good planning. Hopefully we'll get that stuff in country. If not, as long as I get a weapon and body armor everything should be O.K. If I don't get those things I think I'll tell them they can fight without me until they come in. What are they going to do kick me out of the Army? Or worse, send me to Iraq?

Anyway, when I found out about the four day weekend I called my wife who got on the next plane to Dallas. Right now I'm writing from a hotel room outside of post while she's taking a nap. She had to fly through the night and hasn't slept yet. This is the first chance I've had to use the built in wireless card on my laptop. It's pretty cool and the service here is really fast. Obviously it was good to see her pull around the corner in the rental car we have for the weekend. Don't really have any plans but, don't really need any. The kids think Mommy is going to see a "friend" for the weekend. I think it would have been too hard on all of us for them to come, and I don't think I could say goodbye to them again and explain all over why I wasn't coming home for a long time. I would have loved to see them but I think this is best all around. So, if you know my kids don't talk about mommy seeing daddy this weekend. By the way, if you rent a car from Avis it's about $90.00 a day. If you rent a car from Hertz it's $15.00 a day. Where's the invisible hand of competition? I guess it's slapping the snot out of Avis right now.

In an interesting turn of events I have small pox. Not really small pox but the vaccination for it. So I've got a contagious oozing knot of puss on my shoulder under a large bandage. mmm tapioca anyone? I also got the Anthrax vaccine and a typhoid shot. The Anthrax is a seires of shots lasting more than a year. You get a booster every so often to keep your immunity up. Appearantly you also lose any desire for cheesy eighties heavy metal. Too bad they don't give you the bullet vaccine, or the hand grenade vaccine. I felt sick for about a day but, in the immortal words of Monty Python, "I got better".

I'm reading a book by Dan Brown called Angels & Demons. It's the prequel to The Da Vinci Code. It's pretty good. it seems the main character follows over into the next book, which I guess is why they call it a prequel.

Since today is Friday I'll start the weekly run of mail call this afternoon or this evening. If you have any questions now's your last chance for this week.

Will We Ever See Kentucky Again

2004-10-05T16:43:00.000-05:00

Well part of the cost of the hotel I paid for at Goodfellow has been recouped. The advance I put in for on the 15th of September that was supposed to take 48 hours went into my account on October 4th. They gave me roughly 80% and I should get the rest when I reconcile the entire bill with the Army.

We started the week of here at Ft. Hood with death by powerpoint. The information is useful though. Mostly we've focused on IEDs (Improvised Explosive Devices) that the enemy likes to put along roadsides to disrupt our movements. Me and three other guys are going through this training together. The plan was that since my unit has already left for Iraq I would fall in with another unit for training. This doesn't seem to be the case any longer. They're just moving us from station to station as individuals in what seems to be a random pattern. Actually the pattern is if there's a place open we go to it. This isn't entirely bad because the teacher to student ratio should be pretty favorable. For those of you with military background you'll be interested to know the field expedient way to disarm an IED is the same way you check to see if all of the gas is out of the air. "Hey lieutenant, come look at this."

Kentucky got his orders today taking him to Ft. Bliss. It seems our paths will likely separate here. There was a list we got ahold of that had me, Kentucky, and a friend of ours from Texas all going to the same place. Well, none of us did. Texas is going to a unit in Mississippi.

There's a rumor going around that we'll get to fire all kinds of weapons while we're here. Contrary to the movies most soldiers only ever fire the M-16. When I was in the first time I had a grenade launcher attached to my M-16. That was pretty cool except since you were carrying all those High Explosive rounds on you nobody wanted to walk near you. Well, one of my personal favorites as far as weapons goes is the Mark 19. This is a fully automatic grenade launcher. The only thing cooler than a grenade launcher is a fully automatic grenade launcher. This thing fires Campbell soup can sized explosives at a rate of something like 200 per minute. Praise the Lord and pass the ammo.

Anyhow. It's rained quite a bit here. Hope it stops before we go out in the field. But, like they say in the Army: If it ain't rainin', we ain't trainin'.

Back at Fort Hood

2004-10-02T13:40:00.000-05:00

I spent most of my time in the Army the first time at Ft. Hood. Here I am again. I arrived early this morning after leaving San Angelo around 5:30 p.m. We were stuck in Dallas for many hours because of lighting. When I got here to Ft. Hood the power was out in the barracks I was assigned to and I spent the next couple of hours getting sheets and blankets and getting to my room. Whoever had this room before me wasn't very neat. There was (and still is) trash everywhere. There were even trash bags full of old food and garbage in the dresser drawers. The shower was moldy and the whole bathroom smelled of a certain bodily fluid.

So here's the picture. It's about 1:00 in the morning, pitch black, pouring down rain. I'm wearing a headlamp and kicking the garbage on the floor out of my way so I can try to make my bed. I walk into the bathroom and decide I can't sleep until I clean it. So, by headlamp in the middle of the night, I find a scrub brush and some bathroom cleaner in a cupboard and go to town. The whole shower is tile so I just sprayed everything and scrubbed it down. Then I sprayed some cleaner into the toilet and used a not so clean toilet brush to scrub a little. That's when I find the odorific offender. Curled up by the toilet is an old towel I assume was originally white. They must have used it as a floor mat near the toilet. This is what was giving off the all to distinguishable urine odor. I reasoned back and forth with myself about what to do with it. I didn't have any trash bags or gloves or anything, so I couldn't throw it away. I thought about kicking it out the door onto the balcony but figured I'd get in trouble if someone walked by. I thought maybe it would fetch a fair price on e-bay as war memorabilia or something but then remembered you can't ship hazardous waste through the mail. So, as of right now it's still there. I figured as long as the shower was clean I'd be O.K. for the morning and could deal with the rest later.

I reported at 7:00 a.m. to turn in some of my paperwork and then ate chow. Since my mini cleaning spree in the dark took a few hours I only slept last night for a couple of hours so I went back to my room and went to sleep until lunch. After lunch I found a little shopette and bought some trash bags and paper towels and found this computer lab in what they call the Army Learning Center. Just thought I'd catch you up before I really cleaned my room. It's possible you may never hear from me again.

The plan is that I'll be here for three or four weeks and do some training before going to Kuwait to link up with my unit. They may already be in Iraq by that time so maybe I'll push on from there and meet them in Iraq. It seems like this is where the adventure really starts.

On the plane from Dallas to Killeen I sat next to one of the guys that put on the training for the unit I'm attached to. It seems that they went trough 2 or 3 months of training as a unit on a bunch of useful skills. How to clear a room, how to move in a convoys, how to fire and maintain a bunch of different weapons. It seems I'll go through an abbreviated individualized version of these types of skills and then head out. I was glad to have talked with this guy because it eased my concerns about not getting enough training. Most of this training is done with live ammunition which was always a concern of mine. We don't really train very much with live rounds so when you actually get them you're a little scared of them. Since you carry live rounds all the time in Iraq I'm glad to have the chance to do some training with them in squad and platoon sized drills. It just makes you a little more comfortable carrying around a "hot weapon" when you get to spend some time with one. More importantly I want the guys around me to be comfortable with live weapons.

Well, post some questions if you have them and I'll try to answer them in Mail Call next Friday. So far the Mail Call concept hasn't really caught on. I'll see how it goes the next couple of weeks. Some of you have voiced some concerns because one of the comments was deleted. I was the one that deleted it because it contained a little too much personal information. Well, that does it for me. I'm off to do some cleaning.

Have Gun Will Travel

2004-10-01T09:59:00.000-05:00

Well, I don't actually have a gun yet but today isn't going so bad. I had hot water and I got orders taking me to Ft. Hood. This is exactly the same path I took the first time I was in the Army. The unit I am attaching to is an Intell unit which makes me feel good. That at least gives me a glimmer of hope that I'll be doing my real job and not just a warm body to put on guard duty. When I called the unit to make arrangements they said they had requested a person with my job because they had an opening that wasn't filled. Apparently the Army did have a plan after all. One thing I did find out is that the unit just left for Iraq. The story so far is I'll train with a different unit and go over and hook up with my unit.

I wanted to post this because I don't know when the next time I'll have internet access is. I have to check out of the hotel, which I'm still paying for out of my own pocket, in less than an hour and I still have to pack my one pair of shorts and 2 T-shirts.

Here Is My Day

2004-09-30T15:06:00.000-05:00

Found notice on my door that the hot water would be turned off for the next three days. Wonder if I can get a discount. Also found out that the travel advance I put in for to pay for the hotel here still hasn't dispersed. It was supposed to go out on the 15th but they keep saying maybe tomorrow. Now they say that since it is the end of the year for the government (Oct 1-Sep 30) the funds are frozen. They're sorry and they hope it doesn't put an undue hardship on me. The person that was supposed to give me my orders so I could get out of here and stop paying for the hotel room, the same person that told me to call her this morning is gone for the rest of the week. I should check back Monday. About five minutes from my room I got caught in a torrential downpour of biblical proportion. Also, since they told us we would be in Iraq quickly and wearing Desert Uniforms I only brought one pair of shorts and 2 t-shirts. Guess what I've been wearing for the past 30 days. Other than that Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?

In other news, after processing all that for about half an hour I realized it was actually pretty funny. What other job pays you to sit around in a hotel room doing nothing? I think they have the recruitment strategy all wrong. They need to put a Nintendo in the hotel rooms and film us doing nothing but playing Nintendo. They're selling the Army to the wrong audience. Honestly, I know this will all work out. I know it's a piece of a puzzle that God is putting together. One things for sure, it's never dull.

I think I'll start a little something to try to make this blog a little more interactive. If you have any questions about anything post them throughout the week as a comment and on Fridays I'll do "Mail Call". If there are questions I can answer about the military, how things are going with me and my family, or anything at all, I'll try to answer them. Also, it makes me feel better when people post comments. Please realize I can't say anything about operations or troop movements, strengths or weaknesses. That doesn't mean you can't ask, I just can't answer them. So anyway, there you have it, a day in the life of an IRR soldier.

Orders Day

2004-09-27T17:58:00.000-05:00

Today is the day I was told I'd get my orders. Utah and I met in front of the Battalion building at 1300 (1:00 p.m.) and went to the person that told us to be here to get our orders. She was, however, conveniently at an "appointment" and wasn't expected back at all for the rest of the day. We were encouraged to check back tomorrow. Instead of putting on my uniform and walking across the post only to find out she isn't there tomorrow I asked if we could call. They said fine and gave us the phone number. So, we'll wait and see if tomorrow turns anything up.

In unrelated news, Kentucky owns a condo on the beach in Alabama. Ivan hit it last week and he is still waiting for news from the management company as to the condition of his condo. Their website has a place you can put in some information and look at a picture of your unit to see the damage. He put the info in but no picture. He called them and they said they would get someone to take a picture for him.

The guy I told you about that got sent from Ft. Sill to Mississippi by mistake is now here. I saw him today and talked with him for awhile. He isn't scheduled to start class until Oct 27. So for the next month he just sits around and pays for his hotel bill. Speaking of paying for your own hotel bill. I still haven't seen the money for the hotel I'm paying for that the Army told me a week and a half ago would only take 48 hours. When I called Friday to follow up they said they processed it and it would go into my account any time now. When asked what "any time now" meant they couldn't say. What if, when I get my orders I don't show up, and then I just tell them I'll be there any time now. Do you think they'd accept that.

Well, If your anywhere near San Angelo Texas give me a call, I've got plenty of time for visitors. I'd even sublet half of my hotel suite for a good price.

San Angelo Sheep Run

2004-09-25T16:38:00.000-05:00

Today was the second annual San Angelo Sheep Run. Picture the running of the bulls but with sheep. I guess it's a Texas thing. Kentucky's wife is here and they invited me to go with them. Since my schedule is pretty wide open for the next year and a half I said yes. There was a short parade of about 6 horses and 5 or 6 antique cars followed by the 200 or so sheep for the sheep run. All said and done it took about 5 minutes. That included the three minute intermission between the parade and the Sheep Run. Now the sheep run was mighty impressive but the thing that impressed me the most was the amount of sheep poop left behind after a sheep run. It took place on a road about the width of four lanes and went for probably a mile and a half. There was a solid trail from start to finish non stop. There were probably 10-15 pooplets per square foot. I don't know how many square feet there are in a mile and a half of four lane road but enough that I would think the sheep would be empty about half way through. I'd be wrong though.

After the all exciting sheep run there was a blues band contest in an amphitheater along the river. Some of the bands were good and some were not so good, but you really can't go too terribly wrong with live music. The day was topped off with a canoe race on the Concho river. Although most of the events were corny it was a really fun day. It was a fair type atmosphere with funnel cakes and hotdogs and even Lamb Fajitas. I had one of these and it tasted like smoked beef but very lean. It was a nice break from sitting in my room and watching T.V.

Kentucky got an interesting phone call today. One of the guys that was at Ft. Sill with us called. This guy was supposed to come to Goodfellow at the same time we were(two weeks ago) but got held up at Ft. Sill for some reason. Anyway, he called today to say he had finally made it. The Army had sent him to Mississippi to train on some other job that wasn't his. He had no idea what it was and they had no idea why he was there but they said since his orders said it it must be right. Two weeks later they realized he wasn't supposed to be there and sent him here. How comforting. I did read an article in the Army Times that said of the first round of people that were called up only 2/3 of them actually showed up. They said they are listing them as AWOL and the next step would be deserters. If they really go trough with this the deserters will be getting first hand experience in making big rocks into little rocks.

Well, I'm going to clean the sheep poop off my shoes and tend to my sunburn because I'm not smart enough to wear sunscreen. In my defense I didn't know we were staying longer than the sheep run.

It was really hard not to ram all of the baaaa d sheep jokes ewe might expect into this blog. It took shear will power for me not too try to pull the wool over your eyes. Alas, I knew I'd just be spinning my wheels.

Still Here

2004-09-24T15:52:00.000-05:00

Well, I don't have any orders yet. They said check back Monday to see if anything is new. I'm not holding my breath. I'm now operating under the assumption that I'll be here at least another week. It's not all bad though. Since I'm not in class any more I don't have anything I have to do. And since I don't really belong to anyone there is nothing they need me to do. Right now I just live in the hotel and do whatever I want. I don't have to show up to any formations or do any duties at all. I'm not the kind of person that can sit around and do nothing though. There is a movie theatre about a 2 minute walk from my room, a library and a gym about 5 minutes from here. You can also rent movies for $1.99. I suppose a week of sleeping in and getting paid for it won't be too bad.

I came across this list while reading some stuff on the internet and it made me laugh. Thought I'd share it with you.

"Aim towards the enemy." - Instruction printed on US Army rocket launcher

"When the pin is pulled, Mr. Grenade is not our friend." - US Army training notice

"Cluster bombing from B-52s is very, very accurate. From 30,000 feet, every single bomb always hits the ground." - US Air Force ammunition memo.

"If the enemy is in range, so are you." - Infantry Journal

"A slipping gear could let your M203 grenade launcher fire when you least expect it. That would make you quite unpopular in what's left of your unit." - Army preventive maintenance publication

"Try to look unimportant; they may be low on ammo." - Infantry Journal

"Tracers work both ways." - US Army Ordnance Corps memo.

"Five-second fuses only last three seconds." - Infantry Journal

"Bravery is being the only one who knows you're afraid." - Col. David H. Hackworth

"If your attack is going too well, you're probably walking into an ambush." - Infantry Journal

"No combat-ready unit has ever passed inspection." - Joe Gay

"Any ship can be a minesweeper - once." - Anonymous

"Never tell the Platoon Sergeant you have nothing to do." - Unknown Army recruit

"Don't draw fire; it irritates the people around you." - Your buddies

"If you see a bomb disposal technician running, try to keep up with him."

- US Army ordnance manual

"It is generally inadvisable to eject directly over the area you just bombed" - US Air Force flight training manual

Hey, Are Those my Teeth?

2004-09-22T18:59:00.000-05:00

Well, it's been a fairly uneventful few weeks here at Goodfellow. I'll finish class tomorrow but still don't have my orders for the next leg of this journey. The guy I told you about who was going down south isn't anymore. We'll call him Utah. We were supposed to get our orders yesterday but they weren't in yet. They did tell him that he's now attaching to a unit in Hawaii. Sounds pretty rough huh? Hopefully I'll know where I'm going next by Friday. I think I'll go one more place after this and then go to Iraq. I just don't know where that one place is.

One thing that is going well is dental. I know most people don't have good stories about dental in the military but I do. I fact, while I was going through Fort Sill they weren't even fixing cavities. They were just pulling the teeth. I had a small cavity that they didn't care about. When I got here to Goodfellow I made an appointment to have it filled while I was in the states at an Air Force Base. I figured better now than an Army dentist in a tent somewhere in Iraq. That's not the good part though. First, I have to give a little history.

About 14 years ago or so I had 5 of my front teeth knocked out in a little tussle I had with somebody's foot a mirror and a brick wall. Long story short I see the teeth on the ground and figure they're no good anymore. Besides the were all broken up, so I threw them in the trash, went home and told my parents I needed to go to the dentist. Mom freaks out and I think it was my Dad that called the dentist. He says to bring the teeth and come in right away. Well, I don't have the teeth, they're in the trash can on the other side of town. Well, it was more like " I don hab da teef, vere in da traf can on da udder side ub town. He says get the teeth, put them in a cup of milk, and hurry. So we did. He re-implants the broken teeth into my mouth and gives me 5 root canals all without anesthetic. Now, once your teeth come out, your body figures they should stay out. Something about foreign bodies. I had to go back regularly for the next year or so and the dentist would drill holes up the back of my teeth and put medicine in there so my body wouldn't reject the teeth. Well, all of this worked however my front teeth were still all broken and jagged. My dentist put a temporary plastic coating on my teeth to even them out and said it would last a year or so. 14 years later I still have the plastic, but it's worn down and discolored and starting to crack. I was looking into having them capped before I was recalled but couldn't afford it. Long story short here is where the good part comes in.

I asked the dentist here if he would cap my teeth for me. He says "sure how long are you here." I say "two weeks" and he says "not long enough." However, he says, you really need a month or so to bleach your teeth so they're nice and white. Then you cap them to match a nice white color. So he made some imprints of my teeth and I pick up the trays and whitening kit Friday. The Army is paying for me to get my teeth whitened. He said if I'm at my next station long enough maybe I could talk them into doing the caps. I figure this way when they ask me to make the movie about my life I'll already have that "drive the girls wild" white smile all thanks to the Army. It's the least they could do.

When Star Wars Ruled the World

2004-09-18T13:55:00.000-05:00

I know it's been a few days since I posted last, so here's what's been happening. I've done my first week of classes to re train on my job in the Army. We will be finished with the class by end of next week and I'll get orders to the next part of this journey. My job, in case you don't know, is called 98c Signals intelligence analyst. Rent Enemy of the State with Will Smith and Gene Hackman. That movie shows, in a Hollywood way, the civilian equivalent of my job. It really is pretty cool if you are actually doing the job and not just looking at oil drip out of the bottom of a Humvee. Which, believe it or not, is something you have to do in the military. Not only do you have to watch it, you have to document it.

The last week has been classes. Friday night Kentucky ad I went to a high school football game to break up the monotony. It was fun to be out away from the post. Today I am watching a special on TV called "When Star Wars Ruled the World". I'm going to watch the movie Pearl Harbor later today. That is the height of the excitement here at Goodfellow.

One interesting turn of events happened this week. One of the guys going through this refresher course with me got his next set of orders. So far we get orders to one place, do whatever it is we need to do there and get orders to the next place. That has been a little frustrating. You know the end destination is Iraq but you have no idea how many stops there are between here and there. I would rather just get there, do the mission and come back. Anyway, This guy got orders to go to a reserve unit down south who is mobilizing to go to Iraq. This is good and bad from my point of view. Good because you go to Iraq with a chain of command that hopefully will take care of you instead of going over as an individual and getting stuck where ever with whoever doing whatever. Bad because it extended his orders six months. I don't think I'll get extended right away like he did for two Reasons. First, He got his initial orders a few months before I did when they were just recalling a few soldiers here and there. His orders were for 12 months where as mine were for 18 months. I think the whole point of this is to spend a one year rotation in Iraq so they built in 6 months to train and deploy. He also had a problem with his security clearance because after he got out of the Army the first time he married a Canadian. Apparently that's a security risk that needed further exploration. The reasons I don't think my orders will be extended are as follows. First, I think the Army realized the re training portion was taking longer so they started issuing them for 18 months from the start. Second, I have no problems with my security clearance.

I'm glad they looked into the Canadian issue. You sure don't want all those Canadians rushing across our border and using up all of our non socialized expensive health care, or taking all the fish out of our lakes in Minnesota, or rushing in to teach us how to play hockey....Well, I guess that's all they would do. So good thing were watching.

Aside from leaving my family this hasn't been too bad so far. I spoke with a person who had just gotten back from Iraq and she said some pretty interesting things. She said that the enemy can't aim worth anything and, unless it's front line fighting stuff, the only time people are hurt or killed is when the enemy is lucky and we do something stupid at the same time. The thing that sounds the most dangerous to me is when you have to convoy. You hear about IED (Improvised Explosive Devices) going off during convoys. She said she did at least two convoys per day and only ran into one IED. She said it did little more than throw some rocks and dirt into the air. I realize it probably depends on where you are but I'm going to accept what she says and not worry too much. What choice do I have anyway.

Well, the Star Wars show is talking about Boba Fett Pez dispensers so I'd better pay attention.

Not all Bad

2004-09-14T10:53:00.000-05:00

I know my previous post was a little negative. I didn't mean to come off that way, I was just venting a little. All in all I'm still pretty positive in attitude about the recall. I think the negativity came from the fact that I don't really know anybody all that well here, and don't have anyone I can gripe to. The Army is by far the largest branch of military personnel wise, they just haven't figured out what to do with us yet. I know in the end the will take care of it.

We started class today and I am glad to revisit some of the stuff I used to do. Honestly my job in the Army is pretty cool when you are actually doing it. Besides, I get to carry a weapon. People argue less with you when you have a weapon. Actually now that I think of it the person that sees the fewest arguments is probably a cook in the field. Not only does he have a weapon, he controls what goes into your mouth. Think twice before ticking him off. Another good thing about being in the Army State Side is that right now I'm on a two hour lunch break.

Well, I told you I got a webcam. My wife bought one too but we haven't been home at the same time to try them. Hopefully this evening we'll have a chance to try them out.

You Too Can Join the Army for $99.95, but Wait There's More

2004-09-13T11:24:00.000-05:00

I feel I've kept a pretty positive attitude about being recalled, an I think I still will. Having said that there are two things that I find ridiculous and thought you might too.

First, one of the guys going through this with me is married to one of the instructors here at Goodfellow. Odd coincidence but true. He has been out of the Army for a number of years living here in San Angelo. He's friends with all of the people here in the Army. The odd thing is, he had to get special written permission to associate with his wife. Part of the condition for him to be able to associate with his wife is that he can't have lunch with her. Welcome back to the Army.

Second. If you are recalled to the Army apparently you get to pay for it. I said earlier that I had to give them a credit card when I checked in. When we reported to our unit today we asked who was paying. They told us we weren't supposed to be in the Inn but we were supposed to be in the barracks. This is the same unit that said we weren't allowed in the barracks but had to get a room in the Inn. So at this point I'm only out the money it cost for this weekend. Next I go to the housing office to get a room in the barracks and they tell me no. They say since I am only here for two weeks on TCS orders (temporary change of station) and not PCS orders (permanent change of station) that my previous unit needs to pay for me to stay in the Inn. Well, my previous unit was Ft. Living Room. As in I don't have a previous unit. I don't actually belong to anyone so nobody is willing to pay. My question is if I don't belong to anyone what happens if I don't show up tomorrow? There's a Master Sergeant that's trying to straighten this all out so hopefully she will come up with an answer. As it stands right now if I want a room to sleep in I have to pay for it.

Inhale, Exhale. Out with the bad, in with the good. I hope when I get to Iraq I don't have to buy my own M-16. "Would you like bullets with that?"