My last entry set the stage for what you know happened. Our flights were cancelled. At around 0230 Catfish Air cancelled all missions due to low visibility. There were sandstorms in Balad. My NCOIC suggested we go to transient billets at the embassy. I decided that wasn’t our best course of action. The whole team was sweaty, stinky, and tired. We’d stick out like a sore thumb in that environment. In addition, transient billets were composed of three unsecured tents. The mausoleum at least offered a door with a lock. We called back over to Union III and in no time they returned to pick us up. By 0400 we were all sleeping next to the dead guy.
Around 0930 the lieutenant from the unit we inspected stopped by our room. He informed us that their striker QRF (Quick Reaction Force) would give us a ride back to Camp Striker. All rotary wing traffic was still on hold so helicopter travel was out. However, fixed wings were flying out of BIAP so that was our best hope of getting back to LSAA. Not being interested in another night at Union III, we all agreed that the striker convoy was a good idea. My guys were psyched. We never get to ride ground convoys. At 1030 we met the striker platoon leader and attended his convoy briefing. His platoon was very motivated. They were extremely excited to go because it would give them a chance to go to Liberty PX and eat chow at another DFAC. By 1100 we were on our way. Each member of the team loaded on a different striker. We just stayed out of the way. I sat in a seat just behind the vehicle commander. I had no view of anything except the interior of the vehicle. It was no different for any of the other team members. Hell all we have is 9mm pistols so we were more of a liability. We rolled for about 45 minutes with a couple of security halts mixed in. At about 1230 the convoy stopped, the ramps came down, and we stepped out at Camp Striker. I thanked the platoon for their efficient service. They rolled on.
Our next priority was to get on the space available list for a flight back to Balad. We rode the bus over to the pax terminal and stopped by customer service. After adding our name to the list for a C130 flight we walked to the DFAC and ate lunch. I spent the afternoon at an MWR watching TV and checking e-mail. At 1745 we checked back in for the flight and waited. We made the cut – this was our flight. By 2045 we were on the aircraft – crammed in with about 40 other fully armed Joes, two full pallets of cargo, and a military working dog team. It must’ve been 120 degrees onboard. In just a few minutes we were all sweating fiercely. They finally cranked the engines thirty minutes later and got some air circulating. In the meantime we passed around water bottles. It’s not really a long flight to Balad from BIAP. We touched down at around 2200. It was good to be back. I’d have solitude, a shower, and clean clothes tonight.
If you’ve followed this trip you’ll remember that when we left it was on Catfish Air. That pax terminal is nowhere near the fixed wing terminal. I was waiting on the bus when a KBR employee offered a ride. I gladly accepted. He was a chatty sort. He told me about how he was beginning his third year in Iraq, his wife had divorced him, and how he used to be in the Air Force. Just when I thought he was going to stay on sad subjects he brightened up and started telling me about his new wife. Apparently, he has a friend who married a woman from Thailand. They introduced him to another Thai lady. According to him, “they knew after the first night.” Inside I thought “oh, boy”. This was obviously a “fly-by-night” kind of thing. I asked him questions regarding where they intended to live and stuff like that. He hadn’t thought much of it through. For now they have a place in Bangkok. In my mind I kept hearing that 80’s song “One Night in Bangkok.” Mr. KBR is 48. His new Thai bride? 28. I won’t say any more. He seemed real happy.
I was ecstatic to peel off those dirty clothes and take a long shower. My bed felt wonderful. It was very quiet too.
Around 0930 the lieutenant from the unit we inspected stopped by our room. He informed us that their striker QRF (Quick Reaction Force) would give us a ride back to Camp Striker. All rotary wing traffic was still on hold so helicopter travel was out. However, fixed wings were flying out of BIAP so that was our best hope of getting back to LSAA. Not being interested in another night at Union III, we all agreed that the striker convoy was a good idea. My guys were psyched. We never get to ride ground convoys. At 1030 we met the striker platoon leader and attended his convoy briefing. His platoon was very motivated. They were extremely excited to go because it would give them a chance to go to Liberty PX and eat chow at another DFAC. By 1100 we were on our way. Each member of the team loaded on a different striker. We just stayed out of the way. I sat in a seat just behind the vehicle commander. I had no view of anything except the interior of the vehicle. It was no different for any of the other team members. Hell all we have is 9mm pistols so we were more of a liability. We rolled for about 45 minutes with a couple of security halts mixed in. At about 1230 the convoy stopped, the ramps came down, and we stepped out at Camp Striker. I thanked the platoon for their efficient service. They rolled on.
Our next priority was to get on the space available list for a flight back to Balad. We rode the bus over to the pax terminal and stopped by customer service. After adding our name to the list for a C130 flight we walked to the DFAC and ate lunch. I spent the afternoon at an MWR watching TV and checking e-mail. At 1745 we checked back in for the flight and waited. We made the cut – this was our flight. By 2045 we were on the aircraft – crammed in with about 40 other fully armed Joes, two full pallets of cargo, and a military working dog team. It must’ve been 120 degrees onboard. In just a few minutes we were all sweating fiercely. They finally cranked the engines thirty minutes later and got some air circulating. In the meantime we passed around water bottles. It’s not really a long flight to Balad from BIAP. We touched down at around 2200. It was good to be back. I’d have solitude, a shower, and clean clothes tonight.
If you’ve followed this trip you’ll remember that when we left it was on Catfish Air. That pax terminal is nowhere near the fixed wing terminal. I was waiting on the bus when a KBR employee offered a ride. I gladly accepted. He was a chatty sort. He told me about how he was beginning his third year in Iraq, his wife had divorced him, and how he used to be in the Air Force. Just when I thought he was going to stay on sad subjects he brightened up and started telling me about his new wife. Apparently, he has a friend who married a woman from Thailand. They introduced him to another Thai lady. According to him, “they knew after the first night.” Inside I thought “oh, boy”. This was obviously a “fly-by-night” kind of thing. I asked him questions regarding where they intended to live and stuff like that. He hadn’t thought much of it through. For now they have a place in Bangkok. In my mind I kept hearing that 80’s song “One Night in Bangkok.” Mr. KBR is 48. His new Thai bride? 28. I won’t say any more. He seemed real happy.
I was ecstatic to peel off those dirty clothes and take a long shower. My bed felt wonderful. It was very quiet too.
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