29 November 2007: Hmmmm....

A big benefit of having some rank around here is that it makes a difference on your billeting. Almost everyone lives in CHUs. However, the vast majority of those don't have bathrooms. This requires the majority of Joes to utilize shower equipped latrine trailers. I don't have to do this. Thanks to my rank, I have a CHU that has a shared latrine/shower in the middle. I live on one side and my neighbor lives on the opposite side of the trailer. The latrine is in the middle. Over time we get familiar with the routines of each other. To wit, my neighbor gets up ealier than me. It's his latrine noises that normally serve as my alarm clock. By the time I'm up, he's already gone to work. He told me once what he did but I forgot. I know he smokes because I hear him routinely stepping outside for a smoke break. Every morning when I go into the latrine I just think to myself hmmmm.......

I'm not certain what he's doing but it's much more than the old shit, shower, shave routine. He leaves water splashed everywhere. It's on the floor, on the walls, on the toilet lid, all around the sink, and all over the mirror. It's as though a little boy was playing in the sink and was splashing water in the way only little boys can do. This isn't an every now and then thing. He does this EVERY MORNING. Before I can do anything I have to take paper towels and dry his mess from around the sink and mirror. Due to our living arrangements, we never see each other unless it's a chance encounter. I'm not about to knock on the bathroom door when he's in there so I can ask what he's doing. I just deal with the mess and drive on. It's really weird.

I haven't seen Kitty Liberty in some time now. I'm not worried though. Strays are survivors. I'm certain there are other Joes leaving treats out. I did hear a cat under my CHU a few days ago. I was busy at the time so I didn't investigate.

Other than that, life goes on. We're another day down. Another day of mission has been completed. I'm in double-digits on my countdown.

28 November 2007: 100 days to go

A significant mental milestone was crossed today. I crossed the "100 days to go" barrier. I realize that literally counting the 365 days BOG isn't an exact science. It's a good estimate though. So before you attempt to rain on my parade I'll just continue to celebrate. I only have 100 days remaining on this deployment.

This place is an endless parade of new faces though. I can remember early in this (and previous) deployments how it felt to be the new guy. We always compare how many days we have to go. People who are early in their deployments speak of their remaining time in terms of months. Once someone gets past the two-thirds mark they transition into counting days remaining. I'm in that phase. I really feel for the Joe who says he has X-number of months to go. I also try not to gloat if I'm asked how much time remains. However, it was hard to keep from noticing the smile on my face today. This is the last triple digit day on my countdown.

There is an all-new variety of MRAP being fielded these days. Camp Liberty is the central issue location. These new vehicles are cool. If you recall, MRAP stands for Mine Resistant Ambush Protected. The new MRAPs are sleek, big, and simply bad-ass. I'm going to see if I can climb in one. I may just drive over to the issue and training facility and see if they'll let me take one on the driver training course. At lunchtime today there were around 30 of these bad boys lined up. I think a unit was training on them prior to taking ownership. They had all pulled into the DeFleury DFAC for lunch. There was a big crowd gathered around in admiration. These new vehicles are like the rock stars of Camp Liberty.

In the meantime, my team kept right on chuggin' along with making a difference. We got another couple of units completed. I love being the enabler for so many Joes to go home. Talk about a cool job in Iraq. I've got it. My team has it too. We have no complaints sans one - we're ready to go home too.

27 November 2007: Joe's love advice to Joe

As day's go, this one was mediocre. It wasn't exciting. It wasn't boring. My team had a small amount of work on the agenda. Once we finished there wasn't much to do other than the normal routine. I had the luxury of a nap. A poster at the DeFleury DFAC advertises an upcoming performance by Carlos Mencia. I believe I'll go. He's a funny guy. There's also a visit scheduled by the Washington Redskins Cheerleaders. I'll have to give up my seat to a Joe for that one.

I did encounter some particularly amusing love (or sex) advice from one Joe to another. As you could guess, it was displayed in a port-o-jon near the Scorpion MWR. The initial comment was by hard-up Joe.

Hard-up Joe: "I need some pussy!"

Dr. Ruth Joe: "It sucks to be you. Work on your game you fuckin' fag!"

Every problem in the world today can be solved by Joe's advice. You just have to scout out every KBR port-o-jon in Iraq to get your answers.

26 November 2007: A rocket? Really?

It is really quiet everywhere I go these days. In all the months I've spent in this country - both previous deployments and now - I've never known it to be so peaceful. It's been weeks since any serious mortar attack that I recall. It's very nice. That's why it was so unusual to have something happen today. Not long after the sun set there was a sudden "whoosh - WHUMP!!" It rocked our trailers. There was no alarm but I knew what it was. It was a rocket attack. The simple rule of thumb is that if you hear the "whoosh" you're ok. That means it's already flown over you. As I poked my head out my door to see if there would be any announcement, a Joe nearby asked another, "Hey dude, you know what that was?" The other Joe answered, "It was a fuckin' rocket man. I saw it in the air!" The first Joe looked around and back and said, "A rocket? Really?" I could see why he said that. It just doesn't happen every day around here anymore.

Another thing I noticed today was that several Joes have been fast to put up Christmas decorations. Several hooches already have holiday cheer displayed on the outside. Someone received a pre-wired artificial tree in the mail. I saw the WalMart box in the garbage. Thanks to the mail being delivered today, I have a flashy Christmas wreath. It brightens my room. I tacked it up as soon as I pulled it out of the box.

Even thousands of miles away in the most spartan of conditions, Joe will find a way to display holiday cheer.

25 November 2007: Remember the Titans?

They were 6-2 at one time this season. Damn! What a disgusting collapse they've had. I'm very glad AFN didn't televise the Titans - Bengals game. I tried to follow it online at NFL.com. I lost interest in the third quarter. In my mind I was visualizing the game as it would turn out in Madden Football. I was the Bengals and my opponent was an NFL Europe team played by the PS2. Those of you who are Madden fans know exactly what I'm talking about. The real game played out the same.

Meanwhile, the Patriots had a scare. However, they showed the mark of a great team - they prevailed. Take note - they're still undefeated. I think the game was a wake-up call. That's unfortunate for the rest of the league.

All the engineer Joes that live around me are highly bummed. LSU lost the other day to Arkansas. Thus endeth their national title run. There is no joy in Baton Rouge. There's also no joy on Pad 8, Camp Liberty. Most of the soldiers in my parent unit down in Kuwait are from Louisiana. Up until this weekend, I've been reading their boastful e-mails about LSU football. Their e-mails have been non-existent since the conclusion of the game. Don't get me wrong - I am an LSU fan also. Hell, I lived in Baton Rouge for nine years. I've never enjoyed any college football tailgating as much as what I experienced at Tiger Stadium. It's just an unfortunate loss.

Yeah, I didn't do anything today. My team is on recovery from our mission to Kalsu. Couple that with the fact that it's Sunday and it puts the icing on the cake. Even if we tried there wouldn't have been any work to do today. As for me? I continued to pursue the problems with my laptop. Although I didn't get it to work, I did verify that my hard drive is fine. All of my files are good. That was a huge relief.

There are no Joe stories today. I think every Joe in Camp Liberty was doing about the same thing as me. We slept, ate, worked out, watched football, and counted off another day closer to going home.

24 November 2007: Where's the local authorized Sony dealer?

My immediate concern for today was to find a way to get my laptop repaired. Without it I can't access the wireless network or utilize my hooch as an office. All my photos, files, and other important data is stored on the thing. It's dead. The damn thing simply shut off in the middle of the start-up sequence and won't respond to AC or battery power. I had a ton of photos from FOB Kalsu that I was going to post with my entries to help with my descriptions. They'll have to wait. I'm hoping that my hard drive data is still good. This was an unfortunate turn of events.

With all the above in mind, I gave the team a recovery day. Then I set out on a quest to find tech support. I stopped by several offices located on VBC. CSSAMO and BAE couldn't work on the computer because it's my personal laptop and not government owned. However, their consensus wasn't good. They both said that it sounded as though my motherboard was bad. I purchased the computer from the Navy Exchange in Newport, RI. I also bought an extended service warranty from the PX. I stopped by the MWR and filed a claim online using that policy. In the meantime, I attempted to contact Sony (the laptop is a VAIO) to see if they had any recommendations. From the Sony webpage I opened a chat with their online esupport page. I explained up front that I was a soldier deployed to Iraq. After explaining my problem the guy I was chatting with sent me a link to a troubleshooting procedure. I told him I'd already taken those steps with no effect. That's when Sony esupport made the most ridiculous recommendation possible. They said to take my laptop to "the nearest authorized Sony dealer." I reiterated that I was in Iraq. They made the same recommendation. WTF, OVER?! Are you fucking kidding me Sony?

I hope other soldiers in Iraq who own Sony VAIO's don't find the need to contact Sony technical support. As inconvenient as it was to do, I called Sony's stateside tech support line and lodged a complaint. At the end of the day I was no closer to having my laptop repaired than when it started. I'm just more frustrated.

I did stop by the bazaar and bought a portable case for my hard drive. At a minimum, I'll verify that my data isn't corrupt. A huge stage had been set up in the PX/bazaar area. Aaron Tippin, apparently a country music singer, was performing later in the evening. I resolved to stay away.

23 November 2007: Filling a sandbag before lunch

I found out this morning that FOB Kalsu does have a coffee shop. It's not a Green Beans. Instead, it's a little Iraqi shop that also serves as the sewing shop. I rejoiced when I learned this. After breakfast I stopped by for a cup. It was definitely better - and stronger - than the DFAC variety. The proprietor has been in business for awhile it seems. His wall is adorned with lots of photos of himself with soldiers and thank you notes. There were also letters of appreciation from various units that have called Kalsu home.

My team wrapped up their work this morning and packed up the equipment. Around lunchtime I walked over to the DFAC. Just as I was showing my ID the soldier at the entrance said, "Sir, you have to fill a sandbag before you can go in." I looked around and, sure enough, there was a huge pile of dirt with shovels. Every soldier, regardless of rank, was filling one sandbag prior to entering. I walked over an filled mine. A soldier next to me was having trouble so I helped him fill his too. He thanked me and then we both headed on inside. That's the first time I have ever had to fill a sandbag as a prerequisite to eating at the mess hall.

After lunch we learned that we'd be flying back to Camp Liberty that night. With that in mind, we all got our gear ready and waited. At supper there was some unknown musical act playing. They had two young blondes that they referred to as "The Blonde Squad". Their sole purpose was to mingle with the Joes and pull them up to dance in front of the band. One of my sergeants was pulled up to dance. That was funny. What was funnier was when they hauled a bunch of Iraqi soldiers up to dance and sing to "Sweet Home Alabama." I'm not even going to attempt description. It was goofy, hilarious, strange, and bizarre. The Iraqis were definitely having fun dancing with the Blonde Squad.

Around 2000 we said goodbye to the unit we'd been assisting. They will all be back in Alaska soon. We loaded onto two Chinooks and flew into a moonlit night. Around 2030 we landed at BIAP and made our way back over to Camp Liberty. Just as I fired up my laptop back in my hooch it went dead. I haven't been able to start it up since. It was bad news at the end of a good week. I won't stress over it though.

We probably won't see Kalsu again.

22 November 2007: Thanksgiving Kalsu style

Turkey day came just the same as it does everywhere else. Here at FOB Kalsu the DFAC served Thanksgiving dinner twice - at lunch and supper. My team and I went both times. It was an unbelievable spread of food. The only thing missing was the "pinch of love" that mom puts in everything. Well... that and the fact that we were all missing home. Missing home is an every day thing. It's just more acute on a day like today.

The DFAC was packed with Joes. We didn't have any dignitaries or VIPs visit. There was a band playing swing music. I'll do injustice in my attempt to describe the corny decorations. There were gawdy turkey statues. A huge cake adorned a centerpiece of watermelon carvings and fruit baskets. The Mayflower was displayed - at least a smaller version painted in brilliant sky blue and white. Perhaps the most ridiculous display was a teepee. I walked over to take a photo when I noticed movement. What I thought was another inanimate part of the display was a real person. She was dressed in a fake deerskin outfit and wore moccasins. Her hair was in the long braids you'd expect. I asked, "Are they giving you time to eat?" She laughed and told me that she did get a break. I went ahead and took the photo. Then I turned and walked back to my table. I was actually rather shocked at how cliche the American Indian display came across.

When I got back to my table I sat down and pounced on my turkey. One of my soldiers asked, "So Sir, who's the squaw?" I laughed and then started thinking. It couldn't have been Pocahontas. She was at Jamestown. Sacagewea? No - she was with Lewis and Clark. Come to think of it, I don't believe the Apponaug Indians (who dined with the Pilgrims) even used teepees. The answer to my soldier's question remains a mystery.

There must've been about a thousand turkeys or more that paid the ultimate sacrifice for the Thanksgiving at FOB Kalsu. They were delicious too - smoked. They were perfectly cut at carving stations. In addition we had prime rib, ham, dressing, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie, and all the other traditional fare. I believe every Joe and Josephine had a good feast. I know I did. Surprisingly, I was even able to get through when I called home.

We didn't do any work today. I tried to watch some football. Instead I had to sit through an episode of "America's Next Supermodel". Damn did that show suck. It was funny though.

21 November 2007: No Graffiti, No Green Beans

I’ve been scouring this place to find the pulse of Kalsu – Joe graffiti. I’ll be damned but I haven’t found any yet. There’s evidence of previous musings but it’s all been expunged. I’ll keep looking though. This FOB doesn’t even have a Green Beans. I mention that to emphasize the smaller, more remote nature of this place. There is a small PX and that’s about it. Joes here don’t have the luxury of a food court, bazaar, or any of the other trappings of the larger FOBs. That’s why I’m so keen to find the graffiti. Joes around here don’t live a “garrison” life. These troops are outside the wire all the time.

Evidence of the work at hand abounds. Everywhere I look I see patrols lining up and ready to rumble. Artillery firing points are sending rounds downrange at all hours of the day and night (especially at night). I think someone tells the cannon crews when my team goes to bed so they can start shooting. Our billets are right next to the cannons. Helicopters are buzzing constantly. You can always hear a UAV overhead. FOB Kalsu is a fighting FOB.

My team kicked ass again today. I’m amazed at how much work so few soldiers can accomplish in so short a time. We came, we saw, we took care of business. Now we’ll kick back for Thanksgiving Kalsu style.

20 November 2007: Snores versus Artillery

Let me pick up where I left off. My team was put in transient billets at FOB Kalsu. These are plywood huts on concrete pads designed to hold several soldiers each. I was placed in a room with two other LTC’s. My team was adjacent to my building in another room. Once I was situated in my bed, I found it impossible to sleep. One of my roommates snored with confidence. Every time he got quiet, I would start to doze off. That’s the cannons nearby would start barking. Although I was horizontal by 0430, it was 0630 before I finally went to sleep. I slept until around 1000.

Once sleep Ops were complete, my team sprang into action. We worked into the evening. It’s amazing how much more efficient we are becoming at our job. It used to take days to accomplish what we now do in a few hours. I guess it’s the “veteran factor”. Now that we’ve got many units under our belt, we know exactly what to do and what not to do. Our day turned out to be much better than it started.

When I finally returned to my hooch, I was met with good news. My roommates were gone. They’d been moved into permanent billets. I had the place to myself. The result for me was a blissful night. The cannons didn’t even fire. I was out cold by 2230.

I don’t think we’ll be in Kalsu as long as we thought. We’re almost finished already. The unit we're assisting is going back to Alaska and they are quite happy to be leaving - the sooner the better.

19 November 2007: Next stop FOB Kalsu

The waiting game was on today. It was time for my team to move on. This time we were headed to FOB Kalsu - an outlying FOB near Iskandariyah. We’ve never been there. It’s southwest of Baghdad. I received confirmation of our flight and passed the word on the team. We’d be flying Chinooks out of Liberty Pad. Our showtime was 2130. I told everyone to hang loose, take care of last minute personal issues, and be ready to roll at 2100.

Everything was going according to schedule. We checked-in to the flight on time. A short while later, KBR personnel were calling for us to line up and get ready to leave. Our flight would be arriving in ten minutes. Sure enough, about ten minutes later two big, beautiful CH47s landed. We picked up our bags and got ready to load. I noticed confusion on the part of the KBR personnel. After about ten minutes of waiting, the helicopters took off and flew away. Nobody said a word. We kept standing there waiting – maybe those weren’t our helicopters. A steady stream of other helicopters came and went, disgorging and loading passengers and cargo. There were even two Marine V-22 Opsrey tilt-rotor aircraft that came and went. Still we waited.
After standing in the night chill for about an hour (remember that we were told ten minutes) a KBR worker told us that our flight was delayed and would arrive for another 45 minutes. After that time elapsed we were told “all division flights are running late and it will be another hour.” An hour later we were told to stay in the area, use the tent to warm up, and we’d be called when the aircraft were on their way. Most of us walked into the tent and waited. A very bad movie starring Steve Martin and Queen Latifah was on AFN. I guess it was around 0130 when someone finally told us the truth. The CH47s that landed earlier? Yeah, they were ours. For reasons that defied explanation, we were not loaded on them when they landed earlier. They had already flown back to Kalsu. We were left scratching our heads. We could’ve already been there, already checked into billets, already asleep. Instead we were still at Liberty Pad watching a really bad movie on AFN. In all the times we’ve flown we’ve never had this happen before. Even though we were ready and waiting, once our flight landed the KBR folks simply failed to load us up. I wanted to get mad but it wouldn’t have solved anything. I simply asked what our options were. They were working on getting the helicopters back.

Amazingly, they did manage to get the helicopters to return. We squeezed on a Chinook that was almost completely full of soldiers and cargo. I had a birds-eye view off the back ramp. It was a beautiful, moonlit night and the scene below was quiet. We made one stop at FOB Iskan. This is a postage stamp-sized outpost in the middle of a electric power plant and oil storage area. The scenery kinda reminded me of Pasadena, TX. We were only on the ground for a few minutes before we continued on to Kalsu. At around 0330 we touched down at our destination. Let’s see… that’s about five hours later than we should’ve been here.

It was a very long night. It wasn’t over. We loaded our bags on a truck but it didn’t show up where it was supposed to. Our ride wasn’t waiting on us. By 0400 we were faced with no ride, no bags, and no billets. I wasn’t happy at all. About fifteen minutes later our ride showed up. I sent him on a scouting mission to figure out what happened to our bags. After our bags were located we all moved over to the billets. FOB Kalsu is overcrowded right now. I was put in a room with two other LTCs. They were both sound asleep so I tried to be whisper quiet. One of the guys snored loudly – irritating the shit out of me. Every time he’d finally get quiet I’d start to doze off. That’s when the artillery would start firing and jolting me back awake. Sleep did finally overtake me but I don’t recall what at what time.

Welcome to FOB Kalsu.

18 November 2007: Army Football - "A Culture of Winning"

Did anybody see the Patriots dismantle the Bills? I don't think I've ever seen an NFL team that so thoroughly dominates every opponent. Not even the '85 Bears were this overwhelming. How many idiots out there still believe the Pats should have an asterisk next to their record if they go undefeated? Let me put it this way, if there is an asterisk it will be for something else. The asterisk will be to denote that the rest of the NFL failed to put up even meaningful competition for the entire season. So far this NFL season has been the Patriots versus the JV squad from every other NFL franchise. It's downright scary what they are doing. I'm glad I'm a Pats fan. I like the Titans too but I've already conceded that there is no way in hell the Titans would ever beat the Patriots this season. Whatever NFL team you root for, if it's someone other than the Patriots you might as well write-off this season and wait until next year.

Right now we're just standing by for the next mission. That means Sunday was open for lounging and watching football. The DFAC conversations centered around the previous day's college football games. AFN was showing all the highlights. Army lost as usual. Navy won as usual. Air Force won as usual. When I was home over R&R I attended my West Point reunion. One of the events was listening to a presentation by the Superintendent (3-star General). Inevitably, questions started to be asked regarding the sorry state of Army football. He replied with a "feel-good" answer about how they were trying to develop a "culture of winning" by adjusting the schedule to play easier competition. The only thing I can figure is that he meant developing a culture of winning for the sorry-ass competition. Eventually, even the shittiest of teams will know that if they have Army on their schedule they can chalk up at least one win. Let's see, so far this season Army has assisted the culture of winning for some notable football programs by losing to Akron, Central Michigan and Tulsa (to name a few). Man I can't wait for that schedule to get easier!

My sarcasm shines through once again. Navy goes to a bowl game again, Air Force goes to a bowl game again, and Army stays home for the holidays.

17 November 2007: Smash Mouth Joe sings up the treadmill

I have to disagree with an old beer jingle. Weekends were not made for Michelob. However, I'd even kick back one of those skunky mule-piss beers right about now. This is a life that defies proper explanation or description. No matter how hard I may try, the right words always escape me. As much as I want every reader to experience the real-life comedy that this whole deployment really is I feel that I'm failing. Every time I walk outside, I work with another unit, hop on a Blackhawk for a ride to another distant FOB, or roll my eyes at another announcement of "Incoming! Incoming! Incoming!" another moment has passed and the right analogy just doesn't come to mind. I laugh anyway. Yeah, I'd even take a Michelob right about now.

The Joes from Louisiana are still just as goofy as ever. Today they were gearing up for yet another route recon. Two Joes were fully armored up and still managed to have a game of catch with a football. Here's the kicker, they weren't on the ground. They were throwing the ball from on top of one MRAP to another. Meanwhile their .50 caliber machine guns revealed full loads of AP-T (armor piercing tracer) rounds. That's some bad-ass shit. I couldn't believe the amazing accuracy with which they tossed the ball. Were I a college recruiter I may have been talking to both of them. The ball never touched the ground.

The most ridiculous moment of the day came later. As usual, I went to the gym after work. About five minutes after I started my run an awkward looking Joe climbed up on the treadmill next to mine. Meanwhile, AFN "The Eagle" radio blared in the background. Just as Joe fired up the treadmill and started his lurching run the song "I'm a Believer" came on. It wasn't the original by the Monkees. It was the remake by Smash Mouth. To my astonishment, the Joe started happily singing along in a booming, out-of-tune voice. I figured he'd stop after a few moments. Wrong! He sang the entire song. I really don't care for that song - especially the remake - but it was cause for a priceless moment. Once again there was a Joe who was making me laugh.

I really wish those of you who've never served could just spend a week here and see what reality is. Joe isn't the "victim" some people try to portray him as. He's over here doing his job. It's a job he volunteered to do. He knew the risks when he signed up. He accepted that it would be necessary to live by an honorable code. He embraced the idea that he would become closer with the ones he serves alongside than even his own family. He loves his country. He loves serving his country. He knows in his heart that he has accepted a calling. Don't ever call Joe a victim. Weapons and technology are not the reasons the American military is the finest the world has ever known. Joe and Josephine are the reason. They are your neighbors, your friends, your co-workers, your sons, your daughters, your father, and even your mother. There is nobody finer, more humble, more committed, more humane, more compassionate, or more professional than an American soldier. Goddam I'm proud to have served with so many.

16 November 2007: Hail "Bob"

In the midst of an uneventful Friday at Camp Liberty I discovered another category of graffiti Joe - the evangelist. I'll get to the story in a moment. First let me tell you about the rest of the day. My best description would be a final coordination day for upcoming missions. I spent several hours over at the MND-B HQ talking on the phone to some key players. That was followed by the ubiquitous "follow-up e-mails". Once all that was complete I spent the rest of the day on personal time. I gave the rest of the team a "personal recovery day" to catch up on their affairs (that means sleep, laundry, chow, whatever...).

Once I got into my personal time I waltzed on over to the Scorpion MWR Gym (that's the name of the gym adjacent to my hooch). I had to pee so I walked into a port-o-jon next to the gym. Yep, graffiti aplenty! However it was unlike what I typically find in the port-o-jon. Everything in this one had a religious overtone. Since I was on my way to the gym I didn't have my camera or a pen and paper. That means I had to find the notable quotes and commit them to memory. Somewhere on Camp Liberty resides "Evangelical Joe". His graffiti is causing other Joes to ponder their mortality (and morality). One of Evangelical Joe's quotes brought a response from two other Joes.

Evangelical Joe: "God forgive them for they know not what they do"
Joe1 response: "I guess this guy's never been blown the fuck up"
Joe2 response: "I have and I agree with him"

I scratched my head and pondered that forum for a moment. I didn't have time to ponder long though. As I turned to walk out of the port-o-jon I saw another quote. All I could figure is that another Joe is promoting a new religion. I don't know what that religion may entail. I just know that it's focused around "Bob". Here's what this Evangelical Joe wrote (in cursive no less, which is a font I don't have on this forum):

"God loves you but "BOB" really loves you. HAIL "BOB"!

Uh... Ok, whatever you say Evangelical Joe.

15 November 2007: Ides of November

I don't recall anyone warning me to beware the coming of today. I can see why. Nothing happened today. My knee feels better. It does have a nasty bruise though. I don't think it qualifies for a Purple Heart (ala John Kerry). I'm not limping anymore.

My team had very little to do today. I gave most of them a "personal day" to take care of laundry and other things. We did have a HAZMAT inspection but it was brief. It's much easier to schedule outdoor appointments for midday now. It isn't ass-blistering hot anymore. We're in the interlude before the next round of shitty weather - the rainy season.

The "Ides of November" came and went with a wimper. My team has sprinted through the first half of the month. Now we're taking a short breather before we sprint the second half of the month. I can't see the actual light at the end of the tunnel but I do see the residual glow way in the distance. It's getting closer.

113 days (estimate) until I have my next beer.

14 November 2007: BIAP via QWest

We made it back to Camp Liberty. After enduring Dr. Phil and the romance novels, we boarded a C130 at around 0030. It had one stop but was eventually flying to BIAP. This flight turned out to be one of the most uncomfortable I've endured. C130's are definitely not luxury aircraft. They don't even rate coach. Passengers sit on cargo net seats that fold down from the sides of the cargo hold. If your back is leaning against a bulkhead, strut, or support then so be it. When there aren't many passengers it's easy to at least stretch out to mitigate the discomfort. The worst flight is when you are crammed in with both passengers and cargo. I'm getting somewhere with this.

Leg 1: Mosul to FOB QWest

As we boarded the aircraft it became obvious that trouble lay ahead. Only the front third of the cargo hold was configured for passengers. This was a sure sign we'd be picking up bulky cargo on the next stop. In the meantime, we all crammed into the forward area. The AF flight crew were discouragingly rude (unusual). They were barking at us like we were children. I was shoved into a seat between two very large Joes. As I struggled with the seat belts I realized (to my dismay) that my seat had two "female" buckles - meaning I couldn't latch up. There was nowhere else to sit so I just prayed nothing would happen. My knees were shoved against the person across from me. Despite the fact that it was hovering around 50 outside, the crew had on the AC. Wouldn't you know it? Fucking thing was blowing directly down on me and freezing my ass off. This was the condition for the fifteen minute flight to QWest.

Layover in QWest

Once the plane stopped and the ramp went down the flight crew asked for the QWest passengers to exit the aircraft. About two thirds of the people onboard got up and left. I sighed deeply and jumped over to what I thought would be a more comfortable seat. That's when another flurry of activity commenced. First, a whole group of new passengers boarded and squeezed us all forward. Next, some loose luggage (yes, I mean suitcases) belonging to one of the civilian interpreters started getting passed forward so it would be clear of the cargo area. Someone tried to hurl the biggest suitcase forward but instead it landed right in my lap. With a dull thud I felt the pain instantly in my kneecap. One of the rollers from this very heavy suitcase had dug deeply into my knee. It hurt so much that it stunned me momentarily. Once I recovered I gave the culprit a very nasty eye. I could read his lips over the noise of the engines. He said, "sorry, sir!"

Meanwhile the flight crew was busy directing the traffic of forklifts. First they removed the cargo pallets already onboard. Then came the bulky cargo to be loaded. It was a twenty foot container. It took them forever to line up the lift so the container would roll straight onto the plane. Even then it seemed as though it wouldn't fit. One of the crew was obviously new and attempting to learn how to lock and unlock the cargo position latches. He kept locking up the wrong ones. The end result was that it took almost 45 minutes to place the container on the aircraft. Normally, loading something like that would only take around 20. We were on the ground in QWest for well over an hour. We finally took off around 0230. My knee was throbbing, my new seat was against a bulkhead that vibrated with the engines, and the AC was still blowing right on me.

Leg 2: QWest to BIAP

This is about an hour flight. Shit it seemed a lot longer. I couldn't get comfortable or warm. I watched some of my team that sat across from me with great envy. They seemed to be sleeping so comfortably. I wanted to drop them for push-ups (not really). One of my team members sat adjacent to the container. I laughed when I saw him size up the container and write "NO GO" in chalk on the front. Even on the C130 my team is on the job. About 0345, mercifully, we landed. I staggered off the plane with a slight limp. I wanted to kiss the tarmac. Our flight from hell was over. We were back at BIAP.

I told my team that I didn't want to see them the rest of the day or evening. By 0430 I was in my bed back at my Camp Liberty hooch. I slept until almost 1000. What did I do the rest of the day? Absolutely nothing. I enjoyed every minute of it too.

13 November 2007: Dr. Phil and romance novels? WTF, over?

The main priorities for today were finishing up our work and trying to find space on a flight back to BIAP. Neither was easy in coming. Most units think that it's ok to drag their feet when they know we're around. It's almost as if they assume we're only around for them and nobody else. Truth is, we've got units all over this place screaming for our help. We had one inspection to complete our work. In the meantime, we had secured space onboard an embassy flight back to BIAP. We had to miss the flight and try for another. The unit wasn't ready. They assumed we'd be available all day. Unfortunately, it ended up taking all day. I wasn't happy. Shit got done though.

Without the earlier flight it seemed there was no way we'd get out today. I resigned myself to another night in Mosul. It's getting cold here in the evenings. I don't mind being here so if the team is stuck somewhere it might as well be here. I sound like I'm getting picky when I complain that it's getting cold. It's my fault. I didn't pack for cooler weather because I'm still in the hot temperature mindset. Note to self - lesson learned.

As it got closer to the evening we learned of another C130 flight. It wasn't leaving Mosul until well after midnight but had seats available. After supper we packed and hurried back over to the pax terminal. I've mentioned in a previous entry that the pax terminal in Mosul is nice. The adjacent MWR is a former palace and very comfortable. It's no big deal to hang out here. Originally, I thought I'd check e-mail at MWR while we waited. That was a no-go due to a communications blackout. Eventually my entire team ended back over at the pax terminal watching AFN at Java Hut. The place was crawling with Joes, contractors, and interpreters. Everyone was fixated on the TV when I walked in. I assumed it was sports or news. I was wrong. It was Oprah. Fortunately, the episode was ending when I walked in. The programming got worse. Next up was Dr. Phil. I thought that certainly someone would change the channel. Wrong again! I was too tired to walk around. It was too cold to wait outside. My only option was to stay put. Why the fuck wasn't anyone changing the channel? I can't believe I'm admitting this, but... I sat through the entire episode of Dr. Phil. It's a "first" that will never get an encore.

During some of the commercial breaks I'd walk around the Java Hut area to look and see what novel titles were on the bookshelves. People send novels over here all the time by the boxload. That's a good thing except that a disconnect exists between folks back home and Joes over here. For some inexplicable reason, people send shitty romance novels. Every time I look around in the MWR, the pax terminal, or anywhere else that novels are stacked up it's always titles like "Bubbles Betrothed" or "A Passion Below". WTF, over? For God's sake people! Do you really think Joe wants to bury his head in a Danielle Steele novel (or worse)? There was even one book (in hardcopy no less) that was nothing but an equivalent of Penthouse Forum as told by black men - the title escapes me because I didn't write it down. Stop sending us this shit to read! Please!

The day ended with us still waiting for our flight. We remained glued to Dr. Phil and surrounded by shitty romance novels.

12 November 2007: Thunderstorm before dawn

Something I love about Mosul is that FOBs Diamondback and Marez aren’t overcrowded. There’s always plenty of room to spread out in the DFAC or the gym. We don’t have to contend with heavy vehicle traffic. It’s like a sleepy military town. The general situation on the ground here is very peaceful. U.S. Army units turned over security in this region to the Iraqis a long time ago. We still have a presence here but it’s more of an “overwatch”. There are also Albanian troops here assisting with base security. The net result is that Joes live a more normal pace of life here. My team never feels stressed when we’re here.

The “hands-down” highlight of the day came just before dawn. We had a thunderstorm. I couldn’t believe. I was in a deep sleep when rumbling thunder pried my eyes open. There were flashes of lightning. Then the rain came. It was brief and heavy. The rain made a pleasant, soothing sound on the metal roof of my hooch. It’s been so long since I felt rain that I almost walked outside. I’m not that stupid though. My bed was feeling too comfortable. Amazingly, most of the puddles were dried by the time we were up and headed to breakfast. The morning sky was crystal clear blue. The temperature had fallen about ten degrees. It was a true sign of the changing weather. The broiler hot summer is long gone.

We could hang here for the rest of the deployment with no problem. That’ll never happen though. Our days are numbered in Mosul.

11 November 2007: Veterans' Day in Mosul

How does one describe Veterans’ Day in Iraq? You can’t really. Everyone here is a veteran. If I were to live the “thank a veteran” creed of today I’d be thanking everyone I saw. It’s not just that everyone here is a veteran – most of us are veterans of multiple deployments. Almost as a collective, every unit in FOBs Diamondback and Marez took the day off. We did the same. I went to breakfast with a couple of my team members. Afterward we stopped by the airfield MWR to check e-mail. Then we walked next door to the pax terminal to buy some coffee. The weather was spectacular so we sat on the patio of the pax terminal and sipped our coffee. There were a couple of civilian aircraft on the tarmac. The place was almost empty. Sitting in the sun without sweating your ass off is welcome. It’s cooled off quite nicely.

The rest of our day was spent doing various leisure activities. I went to the gym. We watched boxing on AFN. Later we held a cookout. I bought steaks and near-beer at the PX. Then we fired up a grill and cooked up a feast. After a bountiful dinner, we sat outside in the cool evening air and smoked some Cuban Montecristo #4’s. We laughed and retold stories of our deployment. I have a great team.

The low point of the day came after the cookout. I went back to the MWR to watch football. AFN aired the Titans – Jaguars game. My Titans absolutely laid a stink bomb. I’m becoming convinced they have the worst offense in the NFL. They’ve been riding their defense all season. Today a couple of key players on their D-line were out so they couldn’t stop the run. It became predictable. They fell behind early and the offense continued to put the defense in unfavorable field position with turnovers and “3-and-outs”. Vince Young is having an atrocious season so far. This just isn’t going to be their year. At least I have the Patriots to pull for. Alas, they didn’t play today. Every pro game I was keeping an eye on came out unfavorable but one – the Colts were beaten by San Diego.

10 November 2007: HAZMAT Marathon

The word of our arrival spread quickly throughout FOB Marez/Diamondback. We're the redeployment "enablers." My Coast Guard personnel are the HAZMAT gatekeepers. If they inspect it, the container will clear the port without any problems. Units started calling early. I thought we were just going to visit a few people and assist them with identifying HAZMAT for shipment. At first that's all we did. After lunch things got hectic. A mad rush ensued. Several units at once wanted us to come seal their HAZMAT containers. We are here to serve so we decided to work until finished. Around 1930, and several containers later, we sealed the last one for the day. We worked by the headlights of a forklift - it gets dark here by 1730. There was a definite chill in the air too.

We barely had time to make it to the DFAC for supper. After taking our time at chow we went back to the office to check e-mail. I tried a phone call home but couldn't get through. By 2100 I was back in my room reading.

It was a HAZMAT marathon. We'll probably finish up early here. Folks sure are eager to go home.

Oh, one more thing.... Happy Birthday U.S. Marine Corps!

09 November 2007: Barnstorming C130 to Mosul

Today dawned just like all the days previous at Camp Liberty. There was one difference – we were leaving. This time we were off to Mosul. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. We’ve been there already. If you haven’t figured it out already, our missions are based around major hubs where the units we support are based. Hence we return to Mosul.

Unlike the normal routine that we’ve come to expect, our flight was at a reasonable hour this time around. Our showtime was 1220 at BIAP. That meant we all had the chance to chill out at our own pace until time to go. I used my time wisely. My morning was DFAC, more coffee, reading e-mail, taking a healthy shit, packing for mission, and cleaning up the hooch. It’s a nice thing to leave out on mission, yet, not be rushed. I even had time to drop off my laundry. We won’t be in Mosul long. I’ll have clean clothes waiting on me back at Camp Liberty.

Once we checked into the flight we dropped our bags off at the pallet yard. Then we walked over to Sather DFAC for lunch. The weather was beautiful. Temperatures are very nice these days. They’re more akin to late September in Rhode Island. Once lunch was over we sat around the pax terminal, waited, and battled flies. I don’t know if it’s the cooler temperatures or what but flies are in much greater abundance. Fuckers are aggressive too.

Flies or no flies, we boarded our C130 at about 1545. There were about thirty other people and a couple of pallets onboard. We made a stop in Balad. All we saw of Anaconda was what we could see out the back ramp of the aircraft. One pallet and about twenty people got off. Another pallet and about forty more Joes boarded. A short time later we were on our way to Mosul. I slept for most of the flight – however uncomfortable it was. As we began our descent the plane started rocking in a series of violent motions. I was expecting that at any time the pilot would perform a World War I style snap barrel-roll. I had the vantage point of looking out of one of the small windows. It was dark outside but from the ground lights I could only reach one conclusion – the pilot misjudged the airfield and had to gun the engines to gain altitude again. It was a crazy ride. Times like these I’m very thankful I don’t get airsick. That would have been the time for it to occur.

At last we made it to Mosul. We should’ve been here about five days ago. It turned out the airfield had been under repairs – cancelling all flights. One of my soldiers was there to pick us up. I had sent three of my team up a week ago to get started early. We love coming here because it’s quiet, accommodations are nice, and the unit we support takes excellent care of us. A few minutes later we were in our rooms. I had some cigars and invited my team to come out for a smoke. We sat around in the cool night air and smoked cigars until around 2230. The sky was crystal clear. The city lights of Mosul twinkled peacefully. Around this part of Iraq a person could forget there’s even a war. My team has another 119 days.

Back home the day has another significance. It’s Jacqueline’s birthday. I didn’t forget. Happy Birthday Jacqueline! You better have had fun or else!

08 November 2007: 245 days BOG

BOG means "Boots on Ground." It's a phrase that was coined in 2003 when the Department of the Army decided that rotations to Iraq for Army units would be 365 days. Ever since then Joes refer to this policy as "365 BOG." This past year it changed to fifteen months for larger sized units due to the surge strategy. Fortunately, I wasn't affected. Today marked my 245th day of BOG. The count begins the day you swipe your ID card upon arriving in theater. I swiped mine on 9 March 2007. If 365 is an accurate count then I have 120 days BOG remaining. I'm over the two-thirds mark! Somebody pop a Yuengling for me!

In the meantime, I'll be here. I'll still be counting the days down. Missions make that countdown go by very fast. Since my team is sprinting to the finish line, the next time I come up for air to count I'll be down to around 30 days. Yeah, I know what you're thinking. I haven't seemed to be doing much the past few days. Well it actually is due to matters beyond my control. I don't control flights around here. As soon as we can finally get a flight to our next mission we'll be running again.

Excitement comes in spurts over here.

07 November 2007: Three hours for five minutes

As much as I want to write something exciting, funny, or interesting I'm finding that nothing about today fits the bill. I spent half the day down at the MND-Baghdad HQ. That was because I needed to use the phone. I received an e-mail the night before requesting that I call to discuss an issue. Wouldn't you know it? Nobody answered. So a trip to the HQ that should have lasted about twenty minutes took all morning. Finally someone picked up the phone and five minutes later the phone call was over. That came to three hours invested for five minutes of talk. In between attempts at calling I yucked it up with the folks in the G4 section. They always love to see me because it means more of their stuff is heading back home.

Unfortunately, some of my team had to wait out my attempts at the phone. We only have one vehicle. I let them decide where we'd go to lunch. I should've known what they'd want. A few minutes later we were driving over to Sather Air Base to eat at the AF DFAC. It's not so much the food - it's the women. My guys like to look at the AF women. I'm not convinced but the military urban legend is that the AF women are prettier. One of my guys got the shits right as we were leaving the DFAC. That meant we had to wait while he left a permanent mark on one of the KBR port-o-jons.

That was the story of my day. My team is completed with our current mission so we're just biding time waiting on the next one. Basically, we're making up stuff to do for a couple more days. That's ok though - we've got VBC Landfill to entertain us.

06 November 2007: VBC Landfill

The Victory Base Compound (VBC) just seems to get dirtier and uglier by the day. I can't even describe how huge the dimensions of this place are. It's referred to as VBC because that's exactly what it is. Included within the compound are Camps Victory, Liberty, Striker, Cropper, and Slayer. You'll also find Sather Air Base and Baghdad International Airport (BIAP). The whole area was Saddam's playground of palaces at one time. There are acres and acres of abandoned bungalows, destroyed palaces (many still being used as office space), a former game ranch (now devoid of animals except stray dogs), torture chambers, man-made lakes, and other outcroppings of the glory days of the old regime. I've driven all over this place and still never seen the whole compound. What I do know is that it just keeps getting more dilapitated by the hour.

When I would visit this place back in 2005 it wasn't nearly as crowded. Now there's way too much traffic. All the curbs are smashed by oversize, military traffic. The palaces are falling apart and nobody seems interested in fixing them. There are entire stretches of road that have been reduced to dirty, pothole filled tracks that rattle civilian cars to pieces. The military is pretty good about picking up garbage. However, if you drive out to the areas where the contractors work and live there are trash heaps and garbage along the streets. My team actually found a place adjacent to an abandoned mosque that's become a HAZMAT dump. We found it purely by accident when we were driving out near the civilian terminal of BIAP. The corporate HQ of Iraqi Airlines is still in business but looks like it's ready to collapse. There's a restaurant there that's frequented by the contractors. Wouldn't you know it? They serve beer and wine. No military allowed - we had to find out for sure.

Today we didn't have any appointments so we loaded in our Ford Explorer and went "sightseeing". We mainly spent time over on the civilian side of BIAP. Most of us had never been there before. Some female contractors waved at us so we stopped to see what they wanted. They just weren't used to seeing military driving by and waved. We swapped pleasantries. They were on their way to the same restaurant I mentioned above. The civilian terminal was definitely in operation. There was a massive AN-124 Condor transport plane taking on cargo. I just couldn't believe how dirty everything has become. All we could think was who was going to clean this place up? It's a mess.

Sometimes I see things that simply baffle me. The disrepair of BIAP is an excellent example. What I saw wasn't battle damage. It was neglect. It made no sense.

I'm afraid that at some point in the future this entire compound will simply be known as the VBC landfill.

05 November 2007: Every day's a Monday

It seems like that anyway. Somehow the months change so that must mean the days of the week do, in fact, go by. But wait... Today was Monday. Damn! It seemed like any other day. That's my point - every day is Monday here.

At lunch today I walked to the DFAC right in front of a couple of Joe's who were talking about post-deployment purchases. I had to hang back to eavesdrop. After all, Joe may know something I wasn't aware of.

Joe 1: "Well I know I need some clothes. I'll be buyin' lots of clothes."
Joe2: "Yeah me too. I really don't need much else. I got stuff for my place already. Well, most everything. I guess there's some things I need."
Joe1: "Dude don't rent to own!"
Joe2: "Oh I won't do that. I learned that fuckin' lesson already."
Joe1: "My place is pretty good too. I mean I got a bed, a sofa, a love seat, and a coffee table. I got all my kitchen shit and appliances. Well, actually I got two sofas - one's a piece of shit. I guess I need to replace it."
Joe2: "Man let me tell you about sofas. They're all the same. It just depends on where you buy it. All that overhead and shit... Sofas don't cost that fuckin' much to make."
Joe1: "Well I was plannin' on somethin' cheap."
Joe2: "You need to go to this place a buddy of mine runs. It's called 'Weekends Only'. That's because he only opens on weekends to save overhead. You figure if he's only open weekends he doesn't have to pay his employees much. Then he gets his stuff wholesale. I mean he marks it up a little. It's a whole warehouse of furniture -fuckin' cheap. You need to go there!"
Joe1: "Sure man that sounds like a place I need to go."

In the meantime I'm thinking of what a shitty bachelor pad this guy must have. It reminds me of back in the day when I had a living room set from Service Merchandise. It all matched right? It must be nice right? I'll bet chicks really dig Joe's interior decorating skills. I'm glad Joe2 was looking out for Joe1 on the furniture purchases. That's what the buddy system is all about.

Now I'm curious to poke my head in "Weekends Only". I'd be certain there are mullets-a-plenty. Only on weekends though...

04 November 2007: Comet Holmes and the Pats game

A couple of nights ago I was walking back from chow when I noticed something in the night sky. I thought it was a planet. However, it seemed odd and out of place. It was hazy, bright and reddish. I figured my bearings and confirmed it was in the northern sky. When I got to my hooch I did some quick research online and determined that what I saw was an exploding comet. Have any of you taken the time to look? It's named Holmes. Find a pair of binoculars or a telescope. This thing is pretty spectacular. I'm not certain, but it may be a once in a lifetime event. I've been telling people about it here but Joes don't seem that interested. I was always fascinated by the stars. One of my favorite things to do was visit the planetarium. I could sit and watch for hours. If you are missing Comet Holmes then get your ass out on a clear night and look. It's worth your time. Now I'm finding myself staring at it for a few minutes every night.

My team had no work for Sunday. I went by one of the Multi-National division HQs so I could digitally sign one final award (the last one I'll submit for my soldiers). Once that was complete I went to the Iraqi Bazaar adjacent to the Liberty PX. When I walked inside I was thinking I'd drop a few bucks. While there I checked out rugs, jewelry, postcards, trinkets, knives, leather goods, trophies, plaques, and various other things. When it came down to deciding I decided against. I've been extremely disciplined in spending money on this deployment. In past trips I've bought all kinds of stuff - rugs, gold, jewelry, and various junk. Not so this time - I haven't bought anything. I noticed there were lots of Joes spending money. It seemed like most of them were buying things like old Iraqi Army bayonets and junk similar to that. I probably wandered the bazaar for an hour just gawking. I walked away empty handed.

Next order of business was football. It was an awesome football Sunday - even if I did have to stay up until 0340 to see all of the Patriots - Colts game. AFN didn't carry the Titans game so I had to keep up on NFL.com. My wireless is too slow for streaming audio. However, they won. Next, I walked to the MWR and found a seat among a room full of Joes. The crowd was about evenly split between Patriots and Colts fans. What a game! The Patriots rock. I was getting very sleepy and at halftime I considered leaving. Hell it was 0200 at that point. I am glad I stuck it out. The Patriots overcame a ten point 4th quarter deficit (as well as some shitty calls by the officials - what the hell were those pass interfence calls on Hobbs in the 1st half and Moss in the 2nd half?). Final score Patriots 24 Colts 20. I loved seeing Peyton Manning getting sacked and fumbling on their last possession. Like I said, I got to bed around 0340.

That was Sunday at Camp Liberty.

03 November 2007: Congratulations Navy Football!

Navy slays the beast! Congratulations to my friend and fellow Avery County, NC native Paul Johnson! You are one of the finest college coaches in the country and it's about time you start getting some due respect. Anyone who says that Academy football shouldn't compete in Division 1A is simply uninformed. Navy and Air Force do it successfully year in and year out. Only Army stumbles. What Paul Johnson has done at the Naval Academy is legendary. This is his sixth season. He has won five straight Commander-in-Chief Trophies (for the Academy that wins the season series against the other two), won four straight bowl games, and had a winning percentage close to .700. His Naval Academy teams have led Division 1A in rushing yards almost every season and do so again this year. He's brought Naval Academy football back into the national spotlight - a major recruiting factor for young men and women looking at college options. This season Paul has Navy poised to bring home another CinC Trophy (already beat AF Academy) and play in yet another bowl game. Now Paul has done what no Navy coach has been able to do in 43 seasons - beat Notre Dame.

In the meantime, Air Force Academy is no slouch either. Even though Fisher DeBerry retired a couple of seasons ago they continue to be very competitive. Since the early eighties they've been to multiple bowl games, won most of them, and had many more winning seasons than losing seasons. They continue to run Coach DeBerry's flex-bone (variation of wishbone) offense to perfection. What's more? They bombed Army again 30-10. Yes, just as I suspected - Army was destroyed again by a fellow service academy.

What's the problem with Army? It's very simple. A passing-based, West Coast-style offense will never work at a service academy. It isn't LSU or USC. Those type of athletes will never be attending West Point, Annapolis, or AF Academy. Why in the hell are Army coaches of late insisting on running that style of attack? When I was a cadet Army was coached by Jim Young. They ran the wishbone. During that time Army led the nation in rushing offense, won three CinC Trophies in five years, and went to three bowl games (winning two and losing the third by one point). Jim Young retired after a short stint of six seasons but his legacy (and lessons) live on. Push the clock forward to today. Navy runs a variation of the wishbone. They win. AF Academy runs a variation of the wishbone. They win. Army insists on passing. They lose. Army had all of 26 yards rushing in today's loss to Air Force. 26!! That's fucking pathetic, it's embarrassing, and it's cruel to your defense (indicates you simply can't control the ball or the clock, thereby dooming the defense to exhaustion in the second half of every game). Would the West Point athletic department, superintendent's department, and Department of the Army please WAKE UP?! I don't have to ask if I speak for other West Point Alumni because I know we all feel the same way. ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!! We want to WIN. We want to BEAT NAVY! We want to BEAT AIR FORCE! Pride is killing the minds that control the fate of Army Football. There is no shame in accepting a simple, plain fact - Air Force and Navy run the right systems for Academy football success and Army doesn't.

There I said it. I'm fed up with Army football. I'm sticking to my guns about the Army - Navy game. It will be a blowout to the tune of Navy 49 Army 14.

Yeah, I watched a lot of football today. We didn't have much work to do. The Cajuns left out on another night route recon again. This time they had a female reporter imbedded with them. I don't know what news affiliate she was with. I walked past them as they were gearing up. She was talking on a satellite phone and wearing black IBA with the word Press. I hope she got a good story. That is, a peaceful patrol with no incident.

02 November 2007: Shorter days, cooler nights

This place is going through a transformation. By that I mean the temperatures and length of days. As amazing as it may seem, I don't even run my AC at night anymore. It gets into the high 50's. Just one month ago it was still blistering hot. In the morning it's actually crisp. By the same token, the days are getting much shorter. The sun sets now around 1700. It rises around 0630. I'm almost reminded of the short, fall days of New England (except for the scenery).

This is obviously filler. My Friday was bland and boring. I worked, I worked out, I ate, and I slept. That's it in a nutshell. At least there's football during the weekend. I wonder how badly Army will get bombed by Air Force?

Alas! Another day of deployment is in the books and documented in the blog.

01 November 2007: "The Cat Whisperer"

I am "The Cat Whisperer." It may sound like hype but it's true. I am blessed with an ability to gain the loving trust of cats everywhere. How do I do this? First, I am a cat lover. My family has always owned cats. Second, I learned from the master. My dad, as burly as a Marine can be, is an unlikely person to be someone cats flock to. However, they do. Third, I speak in the soothing siren voice to the cats. It rarely takes me more than a few minutes before a cat is purring and crawling all around me. I've won over cats in many countries. Iraq is no exception. I am "The Cat Whisperer." I struck again today.

I noticed a couple of days ago that a cat was scurrying underneath the hooches. I spied him from a distance as I made my way back from the DFAC. Today I saw him as I came back from breakfast. I called to him and chatted him up for about a minute. He eyed me from a distance. I continued on to my hooch. Several hours later I stepped out of my hooch to find him waiting for me underneath the steps. I chatted him up some more and left to continue my day. The cat was waiting on me when I came back. We had a talk. After a few minutes of chatting him up he spoke in a soft meow. One meow became several - just the soft hello-type that cats are known for. It was obvious that this fellow wanted to adopt me (it's happened before). He's a stray (of course). I harkened back to the kittens at UNION III. His fur pattern reminded me of one of them. Throughout the remainder of the day he stayed. As I left and returned he looked at me with that trusting gaze. He seems to have taken up residence under my hooch.

General order #1 isn't just about alcohol. One of its provisions is that a soldier cannot have pets. It doesn't mention anything about the animal adopting someone. In that regard, I didn't do anything wrong. I just spoke to him. I now call him Kitty Liberty.

A bowl of tuna and a bowl of water magically appeared under my hooch after supper. I wonder how that happened?

31 October 2007: Halloween

After much deliberation and planning, I decided to dress up like a soldier. It must be a popular costume this year. Everyone seemed to be wearing the same outfit. Actually, you wouldn't really have known it was Halloween except for the corny decorations in the DFACs. I did see a couple of civilians wearing costumes. One lady dressed as a devil - horns, tail, and all. Some dude strutted into Victory DFAC dressed as Santa Claus. That was unusual for certain. He may have forgotten what day it was. That's easy to do around here. I heard there were some parties around Liberty (sans alcohol). It didn't seem like anything I wanted to investigate. I treated today like any other day.

You may recall from earlier entries that when I stay in Camp Liberty my hooch is adjacent to several combat engineer units. They used to be Puerto Rican. Now it's a bunch from Louisiana. Having lived in the Pelican State for several years I can understand that accent. Well last night the Coonasses were on the hunt. Just before dusk they were gearing up for some heavy duty action. AC/DC's "You Shook Me All Night Long" was blaring. Some of the guys were tossing a football in full IBA. Others were loading up the MRAPs and Buffaloes. They were laughing and joking. In the words of ZZ Top, "they be bad, they're nationwide." These happy Cajuns were going out on a night route recon. I liked to think of it as this - they were going out trick-or-treating for real.

It was just another day at the office for Joe (or should I say night?). It doesn't matter where he comes from, what his background, or who he voted for. Joe is the king of happy-go-lucky resiliency. He's my hero.