Let me preface this entry by quoting the Warrior Ethos - "I will always place mission first". Anyone reading this will already have the answer as to why we spent another fruitless night at Liberty Pad. If you are counting, this is the fourth night this week. It's already obvious that we didn't get out on a flight. Tonight's edition of this week's broken record saw me getting back to my hooch at 0230.
We should have known from the start that it would be another long night. First, the weather became increasingly cloudy as the day wore on. Second, since we were manifested for the night before we were counting on space available today. Third, from around 1330 on, a dusty, hazy fog enveloped the entire compound. From 1400 on, Camp Liberty was devoid of the sound of rotor blades overhead. That, above all, was the sure-fire sign we weren't going anywhere. We still had to try.
After checking in at 2100, we all settled into our normal spots and continued the same conversations as the night previous. Club Liberty Pad was packed. It truly was "weather hold Thursday" - except for it being Wednesday. There were no drink specials though. We listened to the normal announcements of flight cancellations. By 0100, only Invincible and Ironhorse flights were still on. Visibility was just as bad as ever. We all knew the inevitable. However, as long as the flights hadn't been cancelled it was necessary to wait. I walked into the pax tent at around 0115. "United 93", an outstanding movie, was on the TV. It had everyone riveted. I immediately settled in to watch. The film is intense. Many of the key players from 9/11 portray themselves - FAA director Ben Sliney, several air traffic controllers from Boston and New York, and Newark control tower personnel. The movie isn't for the faint at heart. If you haven't seen it you should. But I digress. At 0200 the announcement came. Invincible flights were cancelled. It was Liberty Pad Reprise.
For the fourth time in five nights my team loaded up and drove back to our respective hooches. I take this as God's way of saying this mission isn't going to happen.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
29 January 2008: Club Liberty Pad
If this is deja vu I'm not surprised. There is obviously a glitch in the matrix. The agents must've changed something several times this week. Once again my team spent most of our evening at Liberty Pad. Once again our flight cancelled. We came tantalizingly close too. Our showtime was 2200. It was a windy night and the pax tent was packed. However, helicopters were flying. Once we checked in we did the normal routine. Several of us drove over to Cinnabon to get coffee and hot chocolate for everyone. Then we sat outside sipping our hot drinks and swapping stories.
One of my NCO's joked, "When this is all over I'm gonna open my own club back in Houston. I'll call it 'Club Liberty Pad'. I'll have specials like 'Weather Hold Thursdays'." We all got a kick out of that. Everyone agreed that it would be a hit with Iraqi Freedom vets. At least we'd all get the humor and understand where it came from. I'm glad my team continues to find ways to laugh even when we are experiencing the frustrating moments.
I had walked into the pax tent, where everyone was enthralled by "Tango and Cash". After watching a few minutes I came to the conclusion that the movie was much shittier than I remembered. About 2330, the KBR lady rounded us all up and walked us to the opposite side of the landing pad. She said, "I'm walking you over here 'cause this flight always lands here. The helicopters are about fifteen minutes out." About 45 minutes of shivering in the high winds later, she called on the radio to see what was up. Then she announced, "Ok, those helicopters are still in Al Asad. They're on weather hold." There was a lot of grumbling in the ranks as we picked up our gear and trudged back to the pax area.
I walked back into the pax tent to find "Stripes" with Bill Murray on TV. Awesome! The movie is a timeless classic. I watched the whole movie. As it was nearing the end, I looked at my watch and wondered what was up with our flight. Right then the KBR lady came in and announced, "Invincible flights are cancelled!" Dammit! Here we go again. I got up and walked outside. The team was still out there laughing and joking. I let them know the flight was cancelled. At this point nobody seemed to care.
For the third time in four nights, we loaded up and drove back to our hooches - no flight. I was back at my hooch by about 0245. After sending an e-mail to the unit that was expecting us, I climbed in the fart sack and called it a night. I'll have to pay a visit to Club Liberty Pad when this is all over. That way my team can drink a toast (or two) to the many fruitless nights we spent at the real Liberty Pad.
One of my NCO's joked, "When this is all over I'm gonna open my own club back in Houston. I'll call it 'Club Liberty Pad'. I'll have specials like 'Weather Hold Thursdays'." We all got a kick out of that. Everyone agreed that it would be a hit with Iraqi Freedom vets. At least we'd all get the humor and understand where it came from. I'm glad my team continues to find ways to laugh even when we are experiencing the frustrating moments.
I had walked into the pax tent, where everyone was enthralled by "Tango and Cash". After watching a few minutes I came to the conclusion that the movie was much shittier than I remembered. About 2330, the KBR lady rounded us all up and walked us to the opposite side of the landing pad. She said, "I'm walking you over here 'cause this flight always lands here. The helicopters are about fifteen minutes out." About 45 minutes of shivering in the high winds later, she called on the radio to see what was up. Then she announced, "Ok, those helicopters are still in Al Asad. They're on weather hold." There was a lot of grumbling in the ranks as we picked up our gear and trudged back to the pax area.
I walked back into the pax tent to find "Stripes" with Bill Murray on TV. Awesome! The movie is a timeless classic. I watched the whole movie. As it was nearing the end, I looked at my watch and wondered what was up with our flight. Right then the KBR lady came in and announced, "Invincible flights are cancelled!" Dammit! Here we go again. I got up and walked outside. The team was still out there laughing and joking. I let them know the flight was cancelled. At this point nobody seemed to care.
For the third time in four nights, we loaded up and drove back to our hooches - no flight. I was back at my hooch by about 0245. After sending an e-mail to the unit that was expecting us, I climbed in the fart sack and called it a night. I'll have to pay a visit to Club Liberty Pad when this is all over. That way my team can drink a toast (or two) to the many fruitless nights we spent at the real Liberty Pad.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
28 January 2008: Censorship strikes the DFAC
Ah! Sitting in limbo at Camp Liberty! We didn't even try a flight today. We've moved on to plan B for the mission. After two late nights in a row waiting around for flights that failed to materialize, I gave the team a day off. I slept until 0900 and then lingered over coffee while I sent and received e-mails - mostly work related. The weather was reasonable and considerable drying of Liberty mud made walking to the DFAC an easier event. The DeFleury Cafe provided my highlight for the day.
Once I filled my tray with the usual lunch of chicken wings and a grilled cheese, I sat close enough to a TV to watch Sportscenter. The TCN's working the DFAC have a portable stereo set up behind the carving station in the front center section. I normally don't listen to the music they play, but today I perked up when a certain song came on. "American Idiot" by Green Day piped up. It was the sanitized radio version. Even so, I immediately thought, "I wonder how long this will last." I had no problem with the song but I knew someone in the DFAC would. The "flash-to-bang" was about one minute. Having perked up, I had my eye on the general area of the stereo. Sure enough, a stocky senior NCO ran up and had a talk with one of the TCN's. Immediately after that, the song abruptly stopped. It was replaced by some crappy country tune. I rolled my eyes in disgust. It was blatant censorship in the DFAC. The crazy thing is, I've heard that song playing on AFN radio many times during this deployment. The irony was the song was stopped right after the line, "I'm not a part of a redneck agenda!" Then it was replaced by country.
Sometimes I think people get offended just a little too easy. It creates an atmosphere of intolerance. Today was a very good example. The song is fine for play on AFN but not for the DeFleury DFAC.
Once I filled my tray with the usual lunch of chicken wings and a grilled cheese, I sat close enough to a TV to watch Sportscenter. The TCN's working the DFAC have a portable stereo set up behind the carving station in the front center section. I normally don't listen to the music they play, but today I perked up when a certain song came on. "American Idiot" by Green Day piped up. It was the sanitized radio version. Even so, I immediately thought, "I wonder how long this will last." I had no problem with the song but I knew someone in the DFAC would. The "flash-to-bang" was about one minute. Having perked up, I had my eye on the general area of the stereo. Sure enough, a stocky senior NCO ran up and had a talk with one of the TCN's. Immediately after that, the song abruptly stopped. It was replaced by some crappy country tune. I rolled my eyes in disgust. It was blatant censorship in the DFAC. The crazy thing is, I've heard that song playing on AFN radio many times during this deployment. The irony was the song was stopped right after the line, "I'm not a part of a redneck agenda!" Then it was replaced by country.
Sometimes I think people get offended just a little too easy. It creates an atmosphere of intolerance. Today was a very good example. The song is fine for play on AFN but not for the DeFleury DFAC.
Monday, January 28, 2008
27 January 2008: Mission via space A? NOT!
Some days are like the skip on a broken record. Today was almost an exact duplicate of yesterday. When our flight cancelled the night before, we began scrambling for alternatives. The clock becomes a real factor when there are multiple missions stacked on one another. We had a small factor of safety that allowed us to lose a day but still make the mission. Unfortunately, personnel can't manifest themselves on multiple flights to the same destination. If your flight cancels, you have to submit another request that takes 72 hours to process. In the meantime, space available is the only option. Given that all flights cancelled the day before, every person who was attempting to get to our destination yesterday was now attempting to fly space A today. That meant competing for space with everyone who was already manifested and the personnel who were attempting to get out with us the day before. The prospects were bleak. We knew that going in. The good news was that helicopters were flying. Only one flight was going where we needed to go though.
We signed up on the space A list at Liberty Pad as soon as we learned of the flight. My team started seventh on the list. We reported back to LP at 2100 to wait. The place was packed, but the turnover of personnel was steady. The stream of helicopters was continual. I had my NCOIC drive me back over to the Liberty PX food court. I bought everyone coffee and hot chocolate for the wait. It was right at the temperature where you feel fine, only to realize an hour later you're cold. We had about two hours to wait.
An interesting conversation suddenly began. It was strange that it took almost our entire deployment for this topic to come up. We began speculating how much money we would be making if our team was all contracted. Even the youngest, junior enlisted man on my team would probably be making $150k or more if his position was contracted. His knowledge and skills, coupled with our constant travel and the risks associated, would make his salary very lucrative. The intricate knowledge that I have on the entire process of brigade redeployments would certainly command a lot of money. It was amazing to all of us when we put our collective thought into this. Oh well, we do this for each other and for our fellow warfighters who depend on our services to get home. We can definitely hold our heads very high when we go home for a job well done. There are thousands of grateful soldiers back home that we assisted. It certainly wasn't for the money.
So what ended up happening with our flight? I'll get back to the story. At 2355 we lined up. Two CH46's landed. Seven people exited the aircraft. The crew chief spoke to the KBR lady holding the manifest/spaceA list. She came back and announced that there was room for six. Remember what I said earlier? Yep, my team started at number seven on the list. We looked around with anxious glances at one another. Then we shrugged our shoulders, picked up our gear, and loaded back on the truck. This isn't the first time. Shit, how many nights like this have we had in the past year? Fifteen minutes later, I was in my hooch. I sent an e-mail to the unit that was expecting us. No-go on the flight. We'll have to work another alternative course of action. Actually, I already did and it's already in motion. For now, we'll just continue to wait (like Chuck Norris) in Camp Liberty.
We signed up on the space A list at Liberty Pad as soon as we learned of the flight. My team started seventh on the list. We reported back to LP at 2100 to wait. The place was packed, but the turnover of personnel was steady. The stream of helicopters was continual. I had my NCOIC drive me back over to the Liberty PX food court. I bought everyone coffee and hot chocolate for the wait. It was right at the temperature where you feel fine, only to realize an hour later you're cold. We had about two hours to wait.
An interesting conversation suddenly began. It was strange that it took almost our entire deployment for this topic to come up. We began speculating how much money we would be making if our team was all contracted. Even the youngest, junior enlisted man on my team would probably be making $150k or more if his position was contracted. His knowledge and skills, coupled with our constant travel and the risks associated, would make his salary very lucrative. The intricate knowledge that I have on the entire process of brigade redeployments would certainly command a lot of money. It was amazing to all of us when we put our collective thought into this. Oh well, we do this for each other and for our fellow warfighters who depend on our services to get home. We can definitely hold our heads very high when we go home for a job well done. There are thousands of grateful soldiers back home that we assisted. It certainly wasn't for the money.
So what ended up happening with our flight? I'll get back to the story. At 2355 we lined up. Two CH46's landed. Seven people exited the aircraft. The crew chief spoke to the KBR lady holding the manifest/spaceA list. She came back and announced that there was room for six. Remember what I said earlier? Yep, my team started at number seven on the list. We looked around with anxious glances at one another. Then we shrugged our shoulders, picked up our gear, and loaded back on the truck. This isn't the first time. Shit, how many nights like this have we had in the past year? Fifteen minutes later, I was in my hooch. I sent an e-mail to the unit that was expecting us. No-go on the flight. We'll have to work another alternative course of action. Actually, I already did and it's already in motion. For now, we'll just continue to wait (like Chuck Norris) in Camp Liberty.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
26 January 2008: On to our next mission...or...not
Last summer I ranted on and on about the "weather holds" we'd find ourselves in due to sandstorms. It's been awhile since we had to deal with another. Flying out of FOB Hammer was the first flight cancellation we've had in quite some time. Make it two in a row. Today we were supposed to head out on another mission. I won't tell you where we are supposed to be going until we're actually there. I'll just say that it's another FOB we've never been to. The day dawned gray, foggy, and with periods of rain. It really sucks because the day before was spectacular. I kept thinking it would clear out by the afternoon. It didn't. Regardless, we packed our rucksacks and took care of any personal issues needing attention prior to departure.
Around 2000, my NCOIC stopped by to pick me up. The fog was thick. We already knew we were on weather hold. I heard, perhaps, two helicopters all day. My hooch is right on the direct flight path for helicopters coming from, or headed to, the north. We arrived at Liberty Pad to find total silence. The pax tent was full. We stood outside swapping stories for about three hours. It dawned on me that I was shivering a bit so I snuck into the pax tent and found a place to sit. Several flights had already cancelled. The KBR staff would periodically step in to make announcements like, "Everybody flying on Ironhorse flights, those are cancelled. Marne Express has also cancelled." That would be met with groans as people stood up, grabbed their gear and left. It made more room for us.
At exactly 0030 - I know because I was looking at my watch - one of the civilian contractors who was on the same flight as us walked into the tent. He looked at the other two contractors and gave them a hand signal. They got up and started gathering their gear. Right behind them came the KBR lady. "All Invincible call signs have cancelled." That was us. Same old story, different missions.
We gathered our gear and moved out. I was back in my hooch about 0100. I told everyone not to unpack. We'll try again tomorrow. We'd claim duressed traveler to try and get some money back (or freebie roundtrip) except this is Iraq. The flights are free and they don't go anywhere we want to visit on vacation.
Around 2000, my NCOIC stopped by to pick me up. The fog was thick. We already knew we were on weather hold. I heard, perhaps, two helicopters all day. My hooch is right on the direct flight path for helicopters coming from, or headed to, the north. We arrived at Liberty Pad to find total silence. The pax tent was full. We stood outside swapping stories for about three hours. It dawned on me that I was shivering a bit so I snuck into the pax tent and found a place to sit. Several flights had already cancelled. The KBR staff would periodically step in to make announcements like, "Everybody flying on Ironhorse flights, those are cancelled. Marne Express has also cancelled." That would be met with groans as people stood up, grabbed their gear and left. It made more room for us.
At exactly 0030 - I know because I was looking at my watch - one of the civilian contractors who was on the same flight as us walked into the tent. He looked at the other two contractors and gave them a hand signal. They got up and started gathering their gear. Right behind them came the KBR lady. "All Invincible call signs have cancelled." That was us. Same old story, different missions.
We gathered our gear and moved out. I was back in my hooch about 0100. I told everyone not to unpack. We'll try again tomorrow. We'd claim duressed traveler to try and get some money back (or freebie roundtrip) except this is Iraq. The flights are free and they don't go anywhere we want to visit on vacation.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
25 January 2008: Reflections on Hammer
It's nice to be back at Camp Liberty for a couple of days. FOB Hammer was tolerable until it rained. Then the place became a complete disaster. A year ago there wasn't anything where Hammer is currently located. The FOB was established as part of the "surge" strategy. It has grown into a more functional location now. Everybody still lives in tents though. My proximity to the Mayor's Cell gave me access to the improvements in the works. Soon, CHU's will be placed to move permanent party personnel into better living conditions. I assume that will mean the VIP tent will get upgraded as well. Regardless, Hammer is a fighting FOB for certain. It isn't a staging area, or a contingency base. The Joes at Hammer are rocking the insurgency day and night. As time passes, they will have better facilities for their time off.
My day was spent with mission planning. The team's stay at Camp Liberty will be short. It was a spectacular weather day. The warm sun dried up a lot of the mud. Don't get me wrong, it's still a mess here. I did notice a huge upswing in the number of Joes wearing boots to and from the gym. I like to think I had something to do with that. It only makes sense. Perhaps the SGM I spoke with several days ago had a chat with his commander and had some policy memos changed. No matter what transpired, I'm just happy to see Joes aren't ruining their PT shoes in the putrid mess that's everywhere.
I know who my replacement is now. I'm really getting to be a short timer.
Friday, January 25, 2008
24 January 2008: Miracle flight out of Hammer
Today dawned with my team stuck at FOB Hammer. The prospects were not good. The weather didn't show much signs of improvement early on. There was still a lingering fog and drizzle. I resigned myself to an extended stay. Rumors abounded that all flights were allocated to tactical missions once the weather cleared. Armed with all this knowledge, I took my time at breakfast. The Hammer Jammer was operational again so I made a stop to check e-mail. Then I walked by Green Beans for a cup of coffee. Being stuck in a FOB is nothing new to my team. The wait can be very boring though.
Around 1130 I walked back by my tent to drop off a couple of items I had purchased at the PX. I noticed some members of my team were parked outside waiting for me. Apparently, there were two Blackhawks parked over at the flight pad. The crew was at lunch. They were eventually headed back to Liberty Pad and might, possibly, have room for us. I quickly packed and jumped in the humvee. When we got to the pax terminal I had a talk with the pilot of one of the helicopters. She said they were flying to a couple of other FOB's, would return to Hammer, and then fly straight to Liberty Pad. The good news she had was that there was plenty of room for us. What a stroke of good fortune! I directed my NCOIC to drive back and get the rest of the team. We would not be stuck at FOB Hammer after all.
Once we were all gathered it was just a short wait for the helicopters to return. By 1300 we were on our way back to Camp Liberty. I could see the relief on everyone's faces. At 1330 we touched down at Liberty Pad. The only thing we needed to do at this point was get back to our hooches. Our truck was still parked over at BIAP. We all loaded on the shuttle bus. My NCOIC would pick the truck up later, after dropping off his gear at his hooch. The bus dropped me off at a stop across the street from my hooch. I stepped off into ankle-deep, oozing mud. We may have made it out of Hammer but we didn't escape the mud. Camp Liberty was in a state of mud emergency. I wasn't complaining though. We weren't in Hammer anymore.
Despite the mud, I was back in time to get in a workout. I gave my team the rest of the day off. They needed it as much as I did. Now I can get on with planning our next mission. I'll have some privacy for a couple of days too. My hooch at Camp Liberty isn't much, but it's the Taj Mahal compared to the VIP tent at FOB Hammer.
One more mission is complete. There are only a few to go. Then it's time to go home. Happy Birthday Brittanie!
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
23 January 2008: Hammer, Muddy Hammer
About 0300 I awoke to the sound of pouring rain. When you are warm in the tent and in bed this is a soothing sound. However, when you remember that you are at FOB Hammer it creates a sinking, sickening feeling because of how the place is being transformed. It rained hard for about the next three hours. The rain continued as a drizzling nuisance for the rest of the day. FOB Hammer was turned into a muddy hell. Something as simple as walking to the shower became an excercise in the negotiation of sucking mud. There are fields of mud everywhere. The streets flow with a putrid slop that splashes at the slightest touch. Walking off the roads means your boots will sink to ankle deep or worse. No person, vehicle, building, or structure has been spared. Within an hour of waking up, my boots were completely caked, my uniform was splattered, and the inside of my tent was full of mud tracks. The most miserable time to be in Iraq has arrived. This wasn't a random shower that cleared to reveal sunshine later. This is weather that's set in with fog, drizzle, and cold.
Regardless of the weather, we drove on with training. The chapel quickly became a mess as all the UMO's walked in tracking chunks of mud everywhere. Everyone's faces were long today. My team wasn't as enthusiastic either. Even coffee didn't help much. Around 1000 I had to excuse myself to find a latrine. That became an adventure unto itself. I negotiated some of the most god-awful mud I've ever seen just to find the latrine trailer. A group of Joes stood in their IBA as they received a briefing prior to going outside the wire on convoy. They looked like forlorn puppies. They all appeared much older than the twenty-somethings they were. I figured, if they can endure going on mission in this then I can surely survive my latrine march. I drove on.
At 1500 we reported back to the brigade HQ. The Executive Officer had a small ceremony for the team and presented each of us with a coin and a certificate of appreciation. I'm losing count on how many we've received so far. I told my team a year ago that by the end of this deployment we'd all have a stack of CoA's. I wasn't kidding either.
Our next priority became the flight out of here. It wasn't to be. The fog had all flights on hold. Our flight ended up cancelling. We are officially stuck at FOB "Mud" Hammer. I have no idea when we'll be able to extract ourselves from this mess. At least the food is good at the DFAC.
Regardless of the weather, we drove on with training. The chapel quickly became a mess as all the UMO's walked in tracking chunks of mud everywhere. Everyone's faces were long today. My team wasn't as enthusiastic either. Even coffee didn't help much. Around 1000 I had to excuse myself to find a latrine. That became an adventure unto itself. I negotiated some of the most god-awful mud I've ever seen just to find the latrine trailer. A group of Joes stood in their IBA as they received a briefing prior to going outside the wire on convoy. They looked like forlorn puppies. They all appeared much older than the twenty-somethings they were. I figured, if they can endure going on mission in this then I can surely survive my latrine march. I drove on.
At 1500 we reported back to the brigade HQ. The Executive Officer had a small ceremony for the team and presented each of us with a coin and a certificate of appreciation. I'm losing count on how many we've received so far. I told my team a year ago that by the end of this deployment we'd all have a stack of CoA's. I wasn't kidding either.
Our next priority became the flight out of here. It wasn't to be. The fog had all flights on hold. Our flight ended up cancelling. We are officially stuck at FOB "Mud" Hammer. I have no idea when we'll be able to extract ourselves from this mess. At least the food is good at the DFAC.
22 January 2008: FOB Hammer - day 2
I forgot to mention that FOB Hammer has an excellent DFAC. It only has one but it's very good. An interesting phenomenon here is that the smaller the FOB the better the DFAC. This place has loads of fresh fruit, the food preparation is done with better care. Everyone agrees that if there is bright spot to Hammer it's the chow. On that subject, yesterday was MLK birthday. Once again, the DFAC turned in a cliche performance. This one is right up there with FOB Kalsu and the tee pee at Thanksgiving. This time is involves the menu for MLK day supper. They served fried chicken, ribs, collard greens, black-eyed peas, mashed potatoes, cabbage, corn bread and watermelon. Does anyone see the ironic cliche within? At least the food was delicious.
Day 2 at FOB Hammer meant my team was busy teaching our classes. We must've had 60 or more Unit Movement Officers crammed in the chapel. There were musical instruments everywhere so I had to provide the disclaimer that our training was not a song and dance routine. Everything proceeded normal and the training was well received. Later in the afternoon, we went outside for some hands-on training on container inspections. It was another spectacular day.
Later on I was walking back to my billet and noticed the Iraqi bazaar shops along the way. I was amused that one of the places was named "The Ossus", which I assumed was supposed to say The Oasis. There were a number of misspellings on the sign. I promptly snapped a photo. Then I saw a trash bin dedicated to scrap metal. However, the stenciling was also incorrect. It read "SCARP METEL" on all four sides. Maybe it was dedicated to scarp metel? If so, I have no idea what scarp metel is.
I spent the rest of the day cruising the gym, eating chow, and visiting the Hammer Jammer. HJ was packed and I had to wait for quite some time. Everyone waiting had to stand outside and shiver in the cold until called. I struck up a conversation with some Joes about the Super Bowl. They both believed the Giants would win. I didn't offer commentary, other than to say I thought it would be a good game. They both confided they were Giants fans. That figures.
Something very foreboding happened while I was on the internet. Clouds rolled in. It was a very dark walk back to my tent.
Day 2 at FOB Hammer meant my team was busy teaching our classes. We must've had 60 or more Unit Movement Officers crammed in the chapel. There were musical instruments everywhere so I had to provide the disclaimer that our training was not a song and dance routine. Everything proceeded normal and the training was well received. Later in the afternoon, we went outside for some hands-on training on container inspections. It was another spectacular day.
Later on I was walking back to my billet and noticed the Iraqi bazaar shops along the way. I was amused that one of the places was named "The Ossus", which I assumed was supposed to say The Oasis. There were a number of misspellings on the sign. I promptly snapped a photo. Then I saw a trash bin dedicated to scrap metal. However, the stenciling was also incorrect. It read "SCARP METEL" on all four sides. Maybe it was dedicated to scarp metel? If so, I have no idea what scarp metel is.
I spent the rest of the day cruising the gym, eating chow, and visiting the Hammer Jammer. HJ was packed and I had to wait for quite some time. Everyone waiting had to stand outside and shiver in the cold until called. I struck up a conversation with some Joes about the Super Bowl. They both believed the Giants would win. I didn't offer commentary, other than to say I thought it would be a good game. They both confided they were Giants fans. That figures.
Something very foreboding happened while I was on the internet. Clouds rolled in. It was a very dark walk back to my tent.
21 January 2008: Hammer time!
I know. The subject for today sounds corny. I couldn't resist. I'm referring to FOB Hammer. That's where my team was off to today. It's a rather spartan place located twenty or thirty miles east of Baghdad. A year ago there wasn't anything here except dirt, blown up buildings, and some worn out roads. Now there's a FOB that is continuing to expand. The dirt remains.
My team flew out of BIAP. Our showtime wasn't until 1245. It was a spectacular day for flying. We took off on time and had an uneventful flight. For my team this is uncharted territory. None of us have ever been to FOB Hammer before. The place looks like any other FOB from the air. There is no runway, so everything coming in and out of the place is either on helicopter or ground convoy. Our Blackhawks whipped up a hurricane of dust as they landed. We had to wait a few minutes for the dust to settle before we could exit the aircraft. Our ride was waiting so there was no delay. Everything was dry as a bone but there were ominous indicators of what could be in the future. The NTV (a Ford Explorer) was caked with huge chunks of mud. The same storm that brought snow to Baghdad a few days ago had turned Hammer into a complete quagmire. We immediately knew to start praying for fair weather for our entire stay.
My billet was adjacent to the Mayor's Cell. It was only "VIP" in name. The place was a tent with bunk beds, no linens or pillows, and a few wall lockers. The bathroom and shower were inside the building that housed the Mayor's Cell. The team was billeted within walking distance (everything is walking distance at Hammer) in some transient tents. They were closer to the PX, gym, internet cafe, and DFAC. Since we weren't due to provide our training until the next day, I gave everyone the rest of the day to take care of personal matters. Mainly that means sleep, eat, workout, or use the internet. There isn't much else to do around here.
After supper I waited in line to use a computer at the "Hammer Jammer". That's the name of the internet cafe here. Around 2130, I walked back to my tent. While I was walking the ground suddenly shook, a flash brightened the sky, and a rocket streaked into the distance with a mighty "whoosh". There was an MLRS (Multiple Launch Rocket System) firing its deadly payload. It provided a most spectacular sight. The rockets continued to launch about once every five minutes. As I approached my tent, I noticed a Joe working night shift at the MC standing outside for a smoke. He was watching the MLRS. I said, "MLRS is quite a sight isn't it?" He responded, "Yes Sir! I love hearing those things going off. Every time I hear one I know someone at the other end is getting fucked up!" I laughed and agreed. Only Joe can sum it up like that.
My team flew out of BIAP. Our showtime wasn't until 1245. It was a spectacular day for flying. We took off on time and had an uneventful flight. For my team this is uncharted territory. None of us have ever been to FOB Hammer before. The place looks like any other FOB from the air. There is no runway, so everything coming in and out of the place is either on helicopter or ground convoy. Our Blackhawks whipped up a hurricane of dust as they landed. We had to wait a few minutes for the dust to settle before we could exit the aircraft. Our ride was waiting so there was no delay. Everything was dry as a bone but there were ominous indicators of what could be in the future. The NTV (a Ford Explorer) was caked with huge chunks of mud. The same storm that brought snow to Baghdad a few days ago had turned Hammer into a complete quagmire. We immediately knew to start praying for fair weather for our entire stay.
My billet was adjacent to the Mayor's Cell. It was only "VIP" in name. The place was a tent with bunk beds, no linens or pillows, and a few wall lockers. The bathroom and shower were inside the building that housed the Mayor's Cell. The team was billeted within walking distance (everything is walking distance at Hammer) in some transient tents. They were closer to the PX, gym, internet cafe, and DFAC. Since we weren't due to provide our training until the next day, I gave everyone the rest of the day to take care of personal matters. Mainly that means sleep, eat, workout, or use the internet. There isn't much else to do around here.
After supper I waited in line to use a computer at the "Hammer Jammer". That's the name of the internet cafe here. Around 2130, I walked back to my tent. While I was walking the ground suddenly shook, a flash brightened the sky, and a rocket streaked into the distance with a mighty "whoosh". There was an MLRS (Multiple Launch Rocket System) firing its deadly payload. It provided a most spectacular sight. The rockets continued to launch about once every five minutes. As I approached my tent, I noticed a Joe working night shift at the MC standing outside for a smoke. He was watching the MLRS. I said, "MLRS is quite a sight isn't it?" He responded, "Yes Sir! I love hearing those things going off. Every time I hear one I know someone at the other end is getting fucked up!" I laughed and agreed. Only Joe can sum it up like that.
Monday, January 21, 2008
20 January 2008: My arm still hurts
Can you believe it? We're already 20 days into 2008. It's not even vogue to say "Happy New Year" anymore. This is good. The deployment is dwindling down to its final weeks.
My arm still hurts. Typical post-anthrax shot symptoms include soreness in the arm, minor swelling and redness in the area of the shot, and slight fever akin to the flu. I've got all the above. There's a small knot inside my shoulder where the serum was administered. It's red and sore to the touch. I wandered through my day feeling a slight fever. I'm not looking for sympathy. I just want you to see what a real pain in the ass the anthrax shot can be.
Most of my day was spent filling in time in anticipation of the AFC Championship game. Kickoff wasn't until 2300, so that's a lot of time to fill. We had no inspections so I worked on our upcoming RIP-TOA. I attempted a nap in the afternoon but every time I rolled over on my shoulder the pain woke me up. Fortunately, there were some good movies to watch. The AFN cable here at Camp Liberty has standard programming, but there's one extra channel. It's like a "pirated movie" channel. There is a continual stream of movies - some are the real deal, some are pirated DVD's. I never know what they are going to show. Today there were a couple of classics. I watched "An American Werewolf in London" and "Kelly's Heroes". They helped the countdown to kickoff go by a lot faster.
As for the game? I was very surprised how sloppy the Pats played in the first half. I must've jinxed Tom Brady by mentioning his streak of red zone TD's without an interception. The Pats won though. They find ways to win. That's what separates the great teams from the good teams. Now they get a rematch with the Giants for the Superbowl. My prediction? The G-men are playing very well and are on a roll. I believe this will be a good SB. The Pats win in a very competitive game by a score of 33-30.
My arm should be completely healed by then.
My arm still hurts. Typical post-anthrax shot symptoms include soreness in the arm, minor swelling and redness in the area of the shot, and slight fever akin to the flu. I've got all the above. There's a small knot inside my shoulder where the serum was administered. It's red and sore to the touch. I wandered through my day feeling a slight fever. I'm not looking for sympathy. I just want you to see what a real pain in the ass the anthrax shot can be.
Most of my day was spent filling in time in anticipation of the AFC Championship game. Kickoff wasn't until 2300, so that's a lot of time to fill. We had no inspections so I worked on our upcoming RIP-TOA. I attempted a nap in the afternoon but every time I rolled over on my shoulder the pain woke me up. Fortunately, there were some good movies to watch. The AFN cable here at Camp Liberty has standard programming, but there's one extra channel. It's like a "pirated movie" channel. There is a continual stream of movies - some are the real deal, some are pirated DVD's. I never know what they are going to show. Today there were a couple of classics. I watched "An American Werewolf in London" and "Kelly's Heroes". They helped the countdown to kickoff go by a lot faster.
As for the game? I was very surprised how sloppy the Pats played in the first half. I must've jinxed Tom Brady by mentioning his streak of red zone TD's without an interception. The Pats won though. They find ways to win. That's what separates the great teams from the good teams. Now they get a rematch with the Giants for the Superbowl. My prediction? The G-men are playing very well and are on a roll. I believe this will be a good SB. The Pats win in a very competitive game by a score of 33-30.
My arm should be completely healed by then.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
19 January 2008: Anthrax booster
I won't bore anyone with the mundane details of today. I'll just get to the subject. I received my anthrax annual booster today. My NCOIC had researched another TMC here at Camp Liberty and determined that they had anthrax serum in stock. We wouldn't be seeing the Metrosexual Joe again after all. About 1800 we drove to another section of Camp Liberty to visit Riva Ridge TMC. There was a long line of Joes and they were all waiting for the same thing. When I walked inside, the medic said, "Sir, you don't need to get in this line. Just fill out the paperwork and we'll get you out of here." I gratefully complied.
A few minutes later, another eager medic came out and reviewed my paperwork. Then she asked, "Sir, which arm?" I took off my ACU jacket and rolled up my left t-shirt sleeve. Upon seeing my tattoo, she exclaimed, "That is beautiful artwork! I love it!" I thanked her and asked that she just not stick me in the middle of my dragon. Needles are no problem to me. I didn't even feel this one. She extracted it and said, "There you go, sir. Let me know if you have any unusual discomfort. You've had several anthrax before." The "flash-to-bang" was about thirty seconds. Some of the Joes were watching me. I tried to hide the wince of pain. Holy shit! The searing burn from within ripped through my shoulder. I actually broke out in a minor sweat. My NCO looked at me and asked, "Sir, you ok?" I looked at him, winced again and said, "I'm only going to say this once - mother fuck!" The Joes in line overheard me and laughed. I grimaced as I put my ACU top back on. I hate the anthrax shot. It is the most painful serum once it's inside your arm. The burning wore off several minutes later. My arm remained sore for the rest of the night.
Oh well, necessary evil of military life. I'm good on anthrax for another year. I reviewed my shot record later just to tally up the number of immunization shots I've received over the course of my past four deployments (starting in 2003 through now). Keep in mind that several immunizations involve multiple shots in series. I've had almost 60 shots since January 2003. That includes shots for typhoid, yellow fever, rabies (yes there is an immunization for that too), smallpox, anthrax, hep A, B, and C, tetanus, and various other things. I'm amazed that I don't glow in the dark. It's no wonder I never feel the needles.
A few minutes later, another eager medic came out and reviewed my paperwork. Then she asked, "Sir, which arm?" I took off my ACU jacket and rolled up my left t-shirt sleeve. Upon seeing my tattoo, she exclaimed, "That is beautiful artwork! I love it!" I thanked her and asked that she just not stick me in the middle of my dragon. Needles are no problem to me. I didn't even feel this one. She extracted it and said, "There you go, sir. Let me know if you have any unusual discomfort. You've had several anthrax before." The "flash-to-bang" was about thirty seconds. Some of the Joes were watching me. I tried to hide the wince of pain. Holy shit! The searing burn from within ripped through my shoulder. I actually broke out in a minor sweat. My NCO looked at me and asked, "Sir, you ok?" I looked at him, winced again and said, "I'm only going to say this once - mother fuck!" The Joes in line overheard me and laughed. I grimaced as I put my ACU top back on. I hate the anthrax shot. It is the most painful serum once it's inside your arm. The burning wore off several minutes later. My arm remained sore for the rest of the night.
Oh well, necessary evil of military life. I'm good on anthrax for another year. I reviewed my shot record later just to tally up the number of immunization shots I've received over the course of my past four deployments (starting in 2003 through now). Keep in mind that several immunizations involve multiple shots in series. I've had almost 60 shots since January 2003. That includes shots for typhoid, yellow fever, rabies (yes there is an immunization for that too), smallpox, anthrax, hep A, B, and C, tetanus, and various other things. I'm amazed that I don't glow in the dark. It's no wonder I never feel the needles.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
18 January 2008: Metrosexual Joe
In the midst of writing AAR's, updating SOP's, and getting ready for our upcoming TOA, I set aside time to do a few things. First up was a haircut. Three separate times I stopped by the barber shop, only to find it full of Joes. Another item on my agenda was to receive my annual anthrax booster. My NCOIC needed one too so the two of us rode over to the TMC during the regularly scheduled hours for immunizations. Despite the fact that they told us previously they had anthrax boosters, we were turned away. The Joe working the front desk said they were out. "We've had some on order, sir. It just hasn't come in." I grabbed a couple pieces of Super Bubble brand bubble gum from the candy dish on his desk. What was quite curious to me was that the Joe's eyebrows appeared to have been waxed. He, for all intents and purposes, was a "Metrosexual Joe". This is a strange place to find a metrosexual. The anthrax booster will have to wait. I guess I'll have to see Metrosexual Joe again.
It was a day of valiant efforts for no return. In the end, I didn't get a haircut nor did I receive my anthrax shot. Some days just happen this way.
It was a day of valiant efforts for no return. In the end, I didn't get a haircut nor did I receive my anthrax shot. Some days just happen this way.
Friday, January 18, 2008
17 January 2008: BOG says 50 to go!
50 days to go! Ok, it's not a completely accurate measure of the days remaining. It's pretty damn close though. I began my BOG exactly 315 days ago. I am quite pleased at the thought of seeing home again. Yes, it's been a good deployment. However, no deployment tops being home. I reminded my team of the dwindling number of days remaining.
Celebrations will have to wait until later. I still have work to do. Today I completed the AAR for the mission we just completed at FOB Falcon. Another mission is looming large so it was necessary for me to complete the risk assessment and mission plan. Those documents accompany me on every mission. The risk assessment outlines all the major risks that we face on every mission (like indirect fire, hostile enemy action, etc.). I then outline the steps taken to mitigate each into an acceptable overall mission risk. The mission plan outlines everything we're doing and contains all the crucial components of mission success. It's a reminder guide for me to use in ensuring we do everything we set out to do.
Hot damn, 50 days! I'm ready to go home.
Celebrations will have to wait until later. I still have work to do. Today I completed the AAR for the mission we just completed at FOB Falcon. Another mission is looming large so it was necessary for me to complete the risk assessment and mission plan. Those documents accompany me on every mission. The risk assessment outlines all the major risks that we face on every mission (like indirect fire, hostile enemy action, etc.). I then outline the steps taken to mitigate each into an acceptable overall mission risk. The mission plan outlines everything we're doing and contains all the crucial components of mission success. It's a reminder guide for me to use in ensuring we do everything we set out to do.
Hot damn, 50 days! I'm ready to go home.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
16 January 2008: Goodbye FOB Falcon!
In my haste to report on yesterday's events I failed to note an important milestone. Yesterday was the one-year anniversary of my unit reporting to Camp Shelby, MS, for our pre-deployment training. Today bears witness to a more ominous anniversary - my annual anthrax booster shot. It's ominous because it means I'm due another annual booster. The anthrax shot is a real bitch. I can't adequately explain the pain. It's not from the needle. About thirty seconds after the needle is extracted from your arm you feel a painful burning from within your arm. This burning pain can last for a few seconds, a few minutes, or even a few hours. I have this shot to look forward to later this week. There's no choice in the matter. All immunizations are mandatory when they are due. It's a standing order.
Our training was complete so our only order of business was a return flight to Liberty Pad. Unfortunately, our flight wasn't sourced so we were forced to pursue space available. The stroke of good fortune was that the brigade we trained was able to manipulate the manifests to get us on a flight. Our showtime was 1715. That gave us the rest of the day to chill. FOB Falcon is a very small place so it isn't difficult to walk around and see everything that it offers. It was slightly warmer outside so after breakfast I walked the loop around the place just to see everything. Then I stopped by the internet cafe to send in a SITREP and check my e-mail. After lunch I went back to the ALOC to make sure all was well with our flight. Then I walked back to my hooch, packed, finished reading my magazines, and took a short nap. I never did see anyone from my team. They laid low all day.
My ride came to pick me up about 1645. Once we checked in at flight ops, we walked to the DFAC for supper. The only thing on TV was the election returns from the Michigan primary. Nobody seemed interested. One thing I can say about Joe, he votes but he isn't prone to political discussion. It's one of those subjects that he keeps to himself. That's fine with me. I hate talking politics with anyone.
Back at the pax terminal, we were joined by a bunch of Joes that were on the same flight. There was also a French journalist who had an interesting story about Kuwait. Apparently, his cameraman was Mexican. When the Kuwaitis saw his passport, they immediately told him that, "Mexicans are not welcome here. You can't come here and take our jobs." They put him on a flight to Mexico and sent his camera equipment on a different flight to Malaysia. They told him not to ever come back. The Frenchman was completely baffled (as were we). He then told us how happy he was that France now had a new President who was promoting good relations with the United States (he was being genuine). He called Jacque Chirac a "pussy" who always went on vacation to Libya or Lebanon with his "money friends". The Frenchman was a talkative, jovial sort. His stories were quite enjoyable. He had been imbedded with some of the Joes on our flight and it was obvious they had struck up a strong friendship. The Joes were sorry to see him leave.
About 1900 we headed to our Blackhawks. There was no frost on the "Bridge of Peril". Everyone crossed without incident. By 1930 we were at BIAP. We still needed to get to Liberty Pad, which required a series of shuttle buses. First we rode one to Striker Stables. Then we rode another bus to Victory Base. From Victory Base, we rode to Liberty Pad. It was almost 2100 by then. My team was dragging ass by now. We walked in slow motion to our NTV, loaded up, and took off to our billets. I was back in the hooch about 2130. My night drama wasn't over. I arrived at the hooch to find my heater/AC unit wasn't working. I tinkered with the thing for another thirty minutes when, amazingly, it came back to life. By 2230, life in my Liberty hooch was back to normal.
Our training was complete so our only order of business was a return flight to Liberty Pad. Unfortunately, our flight wasn't sourced so we were forced to pursue space available. The stroke of good fortune was that the brigade we trained was able to manipulate the manifests to get us on a flight. Our showtime was 1715. That gave us the rest of the day to chill. FOB Falcon is a very small place so it isn't difficult to walk around and see everything that it offers. It was slightly warmer outside so after breakfast I walked the loop around the place just to see everything. Then I stopped by the internet cafe to send in a SITREP and check my e-mail. After lunch I went back to the ALOC to make sure all was well with our flight. Then I walked back to my hooch, packed, finished reading my magazines, and took a short nap. I never did see anyone from my team. They laid low all day.
My ride came to pick me up about 1645. Once we checked in at flight ops, we walked to the DFAC for supper. The only thing on TV was the election returns from the Michigan primary. Nobody seemed interested. One thing I can say about Joe, he votes but he isn't prone to political discussion. It's one of those subjects that he keeps to himself. That's fine with me. I hate talking politics with anyone.
Back at the pax terminal, we were joined by a bunch of Joes that were on the same flight. There was also a French journalist who had an interesting story about Kuwait. Apparently, his cameraman was Mexican. When the Kuwaitis saw his passport, they immediately told him that, "Mexicans are not welcome here. You can't come here and take our jobs." They put him on a flight to Mexico and sent his camera equipment on a different flight to Malaysia. They told him not to ever come back. The Frenchman was completely baffled (as were we). He then told us how happy he was that France now had a new President who was promoting good relations with the United States (he was being genuine). He called Jacque Chirac a "pussy" who always went on vacation to Libya or Lebanon with his "money friends". The Frenchman was a talkative, jovial sort. His stories were quite enjoyable. He had been imbedded with some of the Joes on our flight and it was obvious they had struck up a strong friendship. The Joes were sorry to see him leave.
About 1900 we headed to our Blackhawks. There was no frost on the "Bridge of Peril". Everyone crossed without incident. By 1930 we were at BIAP. We still needed to get to Liberty Pad, which required a series of shuttle buses. First we rode one to Striker Stables. Then we rode another bus to Victory Base. From Victory Base, we rode to Liberty Pad. It was almost 2100 by then. My team was dragging ass by now. We walked in slow motion to our NTV, loaded up, and took off to our billets. I was back in the hooch about 2130. My night drama wasn't over. I arrived at the hooch to find my heater/AC unit wasn't working. I tinkered with the thing for another thirty minutes when, amazingly, it came back to life. By 2230, life in my Liberty hooch was back to normal.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
15 January 2008: It's a small Army
Our first order of business at FOB Falcon was teaching our classes. Training began at 0900 in a side conference room of the DFAC. We had over 60 attendees. As I began the introduction, I noticed a beaming face in the crowd. I instantly recognized him as someone I recruited into ROTC a few years ago. He was a Bryant University sophomore at the time and just a kid enrolled in my Basic Military Science class. Now he's a First Lieutenant serving as an Executive Officer for a Cavalry Troop here at FOB Falcon. It's a small Army. My team cruised right through our training. I lost count on how many times we've taught (and applied) this stuff. The training wrapped up around 1530. I had my photo taken with my former student in front of a dragon sculpture that adorns the DFAC. The brigade here is known as "The Dragons".
John (the 1LT) and I agreed to meet back for supper. I cruised on to the gym to fight the crowd. On the way, I stopped to watch a bunch of Joes playing "ultimate football" on a very muddy field adjacent to the gym. I snapped a few photos of them just to freeze the image. Then I hurried through my workout so I'd be on time for supper.
John and I chatted for over an hour. He told me he was planning on proposing to his girlfriend back home as soon as he redeployed. Apparently, he purchased the ring over R&R. He told me he was undecided about staying on active duty. I advised him to at least stay in the Army Reserve or National Guard. He agreed. We need good leaders to stay in, whether it be active duty or not. He's poised to go to his Captain's Career Course after he gets home. He's also going on leave around the time of his old ROTC battalion's commissioning ceremony. I asked him to attend. It would be awesome for the new lieutenants to be able to see a recent alumni who's just back from the war. Hopefully, he'll attend. I also invited him to my assumption of command ceremony next summer (although I don't know the date).
After supper he had to attend a meeting. We parted ways and I cruised over to the brigade ALOC to check on our flight out of Falcon. Then I cruised Green Beans for some hot chocolate. There really is very little entertainment at this place. I made the cold walk back to my hooch. Once there, I read a magazine over hot chocolate. With nothing else to do I went to bed.
John (the 1LT) and I agreed to meet back for supper. I cruised on to the gym to fight the crowd. On the way, I stopped to watch a bunch of Joes playing "ultimate football" on a very muddy field adjacent to the gym. I snapped a few photos of them just to freeze the image. Then I hurried through my workout so I'd be on time for supper.
John and I chatted for over an hour. He told me he was planning on proposing to his girlfriend back home as soon as he redeployed. Apparently, he purchased the ring over R&R. He told me he was undecided about staying on active duty. I advised him to at least stay in the Army Reserve or National Guard. He agreed. We need good leaders to stay in, whether it be active duty or not. He's poised to go to his Captain's Career Course after he gets home. He's also going on leave around the time of his old ROTC battalion's commissioning ceremony. I asked him to attend. It would be awesome for the new lieutenants to be able to see a recent alumni who's just back from the war. Hopefully, he'll attend. I also invited him to my assumption of command ceremony next summer (although I don't know the date).
After supper he had to attend a meeting. We parted ways and I cruised over to the brigade ALOC to check on our flight out of Falcon. Then I cruised Green Beans for some hot chocolate. There really is very little entertainment at this place. I made the cold walk back to my hooch. Once there, I read a magazine over hot chocolate. With nothing else to do I went to bed.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
14 January 2008: FOB Falcon and the Bridge of Peril
We were at Liberty Pad early this frosty morning. I do mean it was frosty. Our showtime was 0630. Unbelievably, once we checked into the flight we found the people in the pax tent were watching "Teletubbies". I exclaimed disapproval immediately. One of my Coast Guard Petty Officers changed the channel to Sportscenter. Nobody protested.
About 0730, the KBR personnel held roll call for our flight. Our destination was FOB Falcon. This is a small FOB located a short flight from Liberty. It was very cold - well below freezing. A wind whipped across the flight line, which added to our misery greatly. We stood shivering for about twenty minutes until our Blackhawks arrived. There were only nine passengers among us so we had plenty of room to stretch out. I purposefully selected a seat in the rear of the aircraft where the compartment was heated. About 0815 we lifted off for the five minute flight to Falcon. The flight was very uneventful.
When we touched down we quickly exited the aircraft and made our way over to the waiting area. At Falcon, passengers have to cross a small wooden walk bridge as they exit the landing pad. My team crossed the bridge ahead of me. I noticed one of my Sergeants turn and start signalling to me (we couldn't hear anything from the rotor blades). He was pointing down towards the bridge. I acknowledged him, but didn't register what he was trying to tell me. At the exact moment I stepped onto the bridge it hit me. The wooden planks were coated with a deep layer of frost. It was too late. My foot failed to gain traction and I fell backwards. With a heavy thud, I hit the ground laden with all my gear. That's probably what saved me from any pain. My rucksack hit first, I was wearing my IBA, and my Kevlar bounced the concrete. I had encountered the FOB Falcon "Bridge of Peril" and had failed to negotiate. My team laughed at me. I stood up and grinned. The second attempt at crossing proved much more successful.
FOB Falcon is a small place, but home to a lot of Joes. Space is a premium. There's mud everywhere. Our ride was waiting on us and whisked us to our billets to drop off our gear. Surprisingly, I was housed in the nicest CHU I've seen in Iraq. On the outside it looks like every other CHU. It's pimped out on the inside. It has real furniture, a nice bed with linens, and its own full bathroom. I couldn't believe the place. It's all mine for a few days.
We set off to work right away. Later we hit the gym. The place was packed. There are few sources of amusement at a small FOB like Falcon. That means everybody goes to the gym. The MWR is getting renovated. The PX has a Green Beans. I bought a couple of magazines to read. There is no TV in the hooch. I could only find one internet cafe and only managed one quick check of e-mail. It was too cold out to do anything so after supper I cruised back to the pimp-daddy hooch and read my magazines.
Now that you have read this entry you should all be forewarned. If you travel to FOB Falcon in winter you must take caution when crossing the Bridge of Peril. Otherwise, you will have a very embarrassing moment - like I did today.
About 0730, the KBR personnel held roll call for our flight. Our destination was FOB Falcon. This is a small FOB located a short flight from Liberty. It was very cold - well below freezing. A wind whipped across the flight line, which added to our misery greatly. We stood shivering for about twenty minutes until our Blackhawks arrived. There were only nine passengers among us so we had plenty of room to stretch out. I purposefully selected a seat in the rear of the aircraft where the compartment was heated. About 0815 we lifted off for the five minute flight to Falcon. The flight was very uneventful.
When we touched down we quickly exited the aircraft and made our way over to the waiting area. At Falcon, passengers have to cross a small wooden walk bridge as they exit the landing pad. My team crossed the bridge ahead of me. I noticed one of my Sergeants turn and start signalling to me (we couldn't hear anything from the rotor blades). He was pointing down towards the bridge. I acknowledged him, but didn't register what he was trying to tell me. At the exact moment I stepped onto the bridge it hit me. The wooden planks were coated with a deep layer of frost. It was too late. My foot failed to gain traction and I fell backwards. With a heavy thud, I hit the ground laden with all my gear. That's probably what saved me from any pain. My rucksack hit first, I was wearing my IBA, and my Kevlar bounced the concrete. I had encountered the FOB Falcon "Bridge of Peril" and had failed to negotiate. My team laughed at me. I stood up and grinned. The second attempt at crossing proved much more successful.
FOB Falcon is a small place, but home to a lot of Joes. Space is a premium. There's mud everywhere. Our ride was waiting on us and whisked us to our billets to drop off our gear. Surprisingly, I was housed in the nicest CHU I've seen in Iraq. On the outside it looks like every other CHU. It's pimped out on the inside. It has real furniture, a nice bed with linens, and its own full bathroom. I couldn't believe the place. It's all mine for a few days.
We set off to work right away. Later we hit the gym. The place was packed. There are few sources of amusement at a small FOB like Falcon. That means everybody goes to the gym. The MWR is getting renovated. The PX has a Green Beans. I bought a couple of magazines to read. There is no TV in the hooch. I could only find one internet cafe and only managed one quick check of e-mail. It was too cold out to do anything so after supper I cruised back to the pimp-daddy hooch and read my magazines.
Now that you have read this entry you should all be forewarned. If you travel to FOB Falcon in winter you must take caution when crossing the Bridge of Peril. Otherwise, you will have a very embarrassing moment - like I did today.
Monday, January 14, 2008
13 January 2008: Football Sunday
Today's headline sums it up. It was NFL divisional playoffs. I attempted to get up early this morning to watch the Pats - Jags game. That was a dismal failure. I awoke thinking it was 0500. When I turned my TV on there was only 22 seconds left in the game. Upon further inspection, my watch read 0700. Oh well... I watched the replay later in the day. I read a statistic later that is simply astounding. The last time Tom Brady threw a red zone interception was two years ago in the divisional playoff loss to Denver. Since then, he has thrown over 60 red zone TD passes without an interception.
I thoroughly enjoyed watching the Chargers end Peyton Manning and the Colts' season. I thought the most amazing part of that game was watching Billy Volek substitute for an injured Phillip Rivers. Who would have thought that Billy Volek would be the QB to lead the Chargers on a 70-yard, 4th quarter winning TD drive? I'm glad I stayed up to watch the game.
What about work? I already told everyone. As long as there is mud everywhere, nobody wants to open up their containers for us to look at them. Mud and customs regulations do not mix. Don't worry though, we've got some more travels and missions upcoming - sooner than you realize.
Patriots 19-0? History is in the making.
I thoroughly enjoyed watching the Chargers end Peyton Manning and the Colts' season. I thought the most amazing part of that game was watching Billy Volek substitute for an injured Phillip Rivers. Who would have thought that Billy Volek would be the QB to lead the Chargers on a 70-yard, 4th quarter winning TD drive? I'm glad I stayed up to watch the game.
What about work? I already told everyone. As long as there is mud everywhere, nobody wants to open up their containers for us to look at them. Mud and customs regulations do not mix. Don't worry though, we've got some more travels and missions upcoming - sooner than you realize.
Patriots 19-0? History is in the making.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
12 January 2008: Boots and PT uniform
It's still muddy here. Although it hasn't rained again, the amount of precipitation yesterday was significant enough to create a mess that will linger for several days. There was some drying today but not enough to provide Joes safe passage on foot. I made the observation today that a lot of Joes were now wearing boots with their PT uniforms. I would like to believe that I had some influence on this - at least this little niche of Camp Liberty. I credit it more to Joe just using the same logic I applied to the mud challenge. That is, rather than ruin perfectly good running shoes just wear boots to and from the gym. Either the uniform policy was changed or Joe just realized it's "easier to ask forgiveness than ask permission".
Today was a rather slow Saturday. The mud seems to have put everyone into slow motion. There seems to be great reluctance on the part of various units to have my team come support them with inspections while everything is surrounded by spackle. I can understand this. Customs requires everything to be free of dirt and mud in order to ship. Doing any work right now with containers runs the significant risk of getting very stubborn mud on everything. That just creates more work.
The mud didn't stop the Cajun Combat Engineers from going out on their normal route recon. All of their engineering equipment is now two-tone. That would be desert sand paint on top, mud on the bottom.
Today was a rather slow Saturday. The mud seems to have put everyone into slow motion. There seems to be great reluctance on the part of various units to have my team come support them with inspections while everything is surrounded by spackle. I can understand this. Customs requires everything to be free of dirt and mud in order to ship. Doing any work right now with containers runs the significant risk of getting very stubborn mud on everything. That just creates more work.
The mud didn't stop the Cajun Combat Engineers from going out on their normal route recon. All of their engineering equipment is now two-tone. That would be desert sand paint on top, mud on the bottom.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
11 January 2008: Snow?! In Baghdad?!
I woke up about 0300 to the sound of rain. It's a soothing sound when you are warm and dry. I quickly fell back into a deep sleep. My neighbor woke me up with his normal morning noises. He gives new meaning to the three S's of manhood - shit, shower, shave. Looking at my watch, I saw that it was going on 0700. I got up and started coffee. While I waited for my neighbor to finish up his usual water splashing, I kept hearing Joes outside yelling in a curious manner. By that I mean they were saying things like, "Get out here! You ain't gonna fuckin' believe this!" This would be followed shortly later with, "You gotta be fuckin' kidding me!" Well, I had to see what was going on. Upon opening the door of my hooch, I was met with a most unexpected surprise. It was snowing! SNOW?! IN BAGHDAD?! That's when I said, "You've gotta be fuckin' kidding me!" Actually, it was a wintry mix. It was coming down very hard and steady. Visibility was very poor. The flakes were heavy and wet. They melted as soon as they hit the ground. I tried to take a photo. Nothing came out right. Every picture I took just looked like heavy fog and mud. Nobody knows if this has ever happened before. I heard later that some say it snowed briefly back in 1940 (or thereabouts). Some people are claiming this is the first time in recorded history that snow fell in Baghdad. We were here to witness the event.
Let me make certain that nobody reading this now assumes Camp Liberty became a winter wonderland. This is Iraq. It had been raining most of the night. The "suck factor" has been multiplied by 100. It's cold. It's wet. There's deep mud everywhere. My team had inspections scheduled. The unit we were supporting contacted us to cancel. That was good news. In the blink of an eye, this place has been transformed into a sea of the shittiest, stickiest, slickest mud imaginable. It's unavoidable. Every vehicle is plastered, every boot is caked, every Joe is gingerly stepping in a failed attempt to avoid ruining boots and uniforms. Mud is now tracked into the DFAC, the MWR, the gym, every HQ building, and, of course, every hooch.
I wasn't going to let the mud disaster prevent my workout. Oh, the snow? It ended around 0830. Anyway, I wasn't about to ruin my running shoes walking to the gym. Instead, I wore my boots and carried my running shoes. About halfway to the gym a Sergeant Major popped out of nowhere to confront me. "Those boots ain't authorized with PT uniform." I was not amused. I said, "SGM, I could care less. For once, can common sense be applied to uniform standards? I am NOT going to take these boots off and ruin my running shoes." He frowned and snarled, "What's your name?" I told him and added, "go ahead, report me to the mayor's cell!" Upon learning my rank, he said, "Sir, I apologize. I'm just doing what I was told."
"I know SGM. I'm not in your unit either. However, I'd recommend you use initiative and see that what I'm doing is common sense. It prevents running shoes from getting ruined AND it keeps the gym facilities clean. Perhaps you should ask your commander for permission to authorize boots for your soldiers going to and from the gym. In the meantime, have a nice day."
Anyway, it snowed this morning. For all intents and purposes, it snowed mud.
Let me make certain that nobody reading this now assumes Camp Liberty became a winter wonderland. This is Iraq. It had been raining most of the night. The "suck factor" has been multiplied by 100. It's cold. It's wet. There's deep mud everywhere. My team had inspections scheduled. The unit we were supporting contacted us to cancel. That was good news. In the blink of an eye, this place has been transformed into a sea of the shittiest, stickiest, slickest mud imaginable. It's unavoidable. Every vehicle is plastered, every boot is caked, every Joe is gingerly stepping in a failed attempt to avoid ruining boots and uniforms. Mud is now tracked into the DFAC, the MWR, the gym, every HQ building, and, of course, every hooch.
I wasn't going to let the mud disaster prevent my workout. Oh, the snow? It ended around 0830. Anyway, I wasn't about to ruin my running shoes walking to the gym. Instead, I wore my boots and carried my running shoes. About halfway to the gym a Sergeant Major popped out of nowhere to confront me. "Those boots ain't authorized with PT uniform." I was not amused. I said, "SGM, I could care less. For once, can common sense be applied to uniform standards? I am NOT going to take these boots off and ruin my running shoes." He frowned and snarled, "What's your name?" I told him and added, "go ahead, report me to the mayor's cell!" Upon learning my rank, he said, "Sir, I apologize. I'm just doing what I was told."
"I know SGM. I'm not in your unit either. However, I'd recommend you use initiative and see that what I'm doing is common sense. It prevents running shoes from getting ruined AND it keeps the gym facilities clean. Perhaps you should ask your commander for permission to authorize boots for your soldiers going to and from the gym. In the meantime, have a nice day."
Anyway, it snowed this morning. For all intents and purposes, it snowed mud.
Friday, January 11, 2008
10 January 2008: Back to Camp Liberty - again
My showtime for my return flight was 0630. It was very cold - below freezing. I got up early enough for a to-go plate from the DFAC. Once at the pax terminal, I checked in and munched on a breakfast of bacon, cinnamon roll, and OJ. The two Coast Guardsmen were already there. They had their black fleece jackets on. After a few minutes, the roll call took place. We were then given the standard flight briefing from the KBR guy. He was very adamant that people couldn't wear fleece on the aircraft. I wasn't wearing mine, but at least half the passengers were. There were a lot of dismayed faces as people took off their fleece jackets. A short bus ride later and we were at our awaiting C130. Wouldn't you know it? Several of the flight crew were wearing fleece. I thought to myself, "what difference does it make wearing fleece or not? If the plane were to crash we're all toast regardless." The AF crew members who were wearing fleece never took theirs off. None of the passengers ever put theirs back on. We all just froze our collective asses off as we sat inside the airplane cargo bay waiting for the aircraft to start up. It was the coldest I've been in this country. The wait wasn't long but it seemed like hours.
About 0900, we taxied down the runway and took off. The heater kicked in and finally warmed us back up. It was a short flight. We were landing at BIAP by 0930. Our ride was there so within minutes we were whisked off back to Camp Liberty. I was back in my hooch by 1015. I had coffee ready by 1025.
We conducted a couple of HAZMAT inspections after lunch. Then we were finished for the day. It was a good thing too. The clouds had thickened. A light drizzle began to fall. The real Iraqi winter seems to have finally arrived. It's going to get real ugly around here now. Given the choice between Iraqi summers with dust and winters with rain, I'll take the summers. I think I speak for all Joes when I say the worst weather to endure is when you have to be cold and wet. "General Mud" is about to make a return.
About 0900, we taxied down the runway and took off. The heater kicked in and finally warmed us back up. It was a short flight. We were landing at BIAP by 0930. Our ride was there so within minutes we were whisked off back to Camp Liberty. I was back in my hooch by 1015. I had coffee ready by 1025.
We conducted a couple of HAZMAT inspections after lunch. Then we were finished for the day. It was a good thing too. The clouds had thickened. A light drizzle began to fall. The real Iraqi winter seems to have finally arrived. It's going to get real ugly around here now. Given the choice between Iraqi summers with dust and winters with rain, I'll take the summers. I think I speak for all Joes when I say the worst weather to endure is when you have to be cold and wet. "General Mud" is about to make a return.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
09 January 2008: Balad for a day
I believe I failed to mention that BIAP now has upgraded its pax terminal. There are new buildings for inbound and outbound. Surrounding the buildings are tents that house an internet cafe, a PX outlet, and overflow tents for waiting passengers. The big concrete pads with aluminum roofs that used to serve as the pax area are still there. There's just better facilities for everyone. It's still a dirty work in progress.
Why am I telling you all of this? I had to fly back to Balad today. The last two members of my team that were working in Taji had a flight back the same day. It was time for them to clear their hand receipts in Balad and return to Kuwait to begin the process of getting ready for redeployment. Having had deployment plaques made for everyone on my team, I needed to make certain they received theirs. It also allowed me to thank them personally for their hard work. So at 0900 I rode over to BIAP to catch a C130 back to Balad. The flight was fast and uneventful. I arrived at the new Balad pax terminal about 1030.
I found my office a shambles. Apparently, the unit that hosts my team had decided - without telling me - to take away half of our office space. It meant we now had to make due with one-half what we started with. There was shit stacked everywhere. I had two computers on my desk. It was hard to just find a clear path to walk from the door to the desk. I didn't have time to worry about it though. I needed to update my mission books. It has been over 70 days and multiple missions so that added up to a lot of updating. I worked all afternoon and into the evening.
I also returned to find my hooch with electrical problems. The lights and AC still worked. However, my electrical outlets didn't. This was bad because my mini-fridge had defrosted. It was dank, moldy, and stinky. The drip pan under the freezer was full of scummy water. I reported the problem to the billeting office. They couldn't promise me it would get fixed any time soon. I double checked the breaker box. Whatever the problem was, it wasn't a fuse. I went ahead and cleaned the fridge, dusted, and swept. The bathroom was a shambles too. My old neighbor had moved but hadn't notified housing. That meant nobody came to clean after his departure. I didn't mess with his old room (it wasn't locked). I did clean the crud out of the shower and sink.
About 2030, I drove over to Catfish Air to meet my two personnel flying in from Taji. I arrived just in time. It was below freezing so I bought them both a hot chocolate from Green Beans. We loaded all their gear on the truck and drove back by the office to drop it off. They also wanted to use the phones and internet. I gave them their plaques. We laughed over a few stories from their mission in Taji. It's easy to relate since we've all been there. After about an hour in the office, I took them back to their respective hooches. I thanked them again and drove back to my place.
Once back in the hooch, I took a long shower. Then I repacked my ruck. Lights out was 2330. It was a quick strike on Balad. I believe I took care of everything I needed to do. LSA Anaconda hasn't changed any.
Why am I telling you all of this? I had to fly back to Balad today. The last two members of my team that were working in Taji had a flight back the same day. It was time for them to clear their hand receipts in Balad and return to Kuwait to begin the process of getting ready for redeployment. Having had deployment plaques made for everyone on my team, I needed to make certain they received theirs. It also allowed me to thank them personally for their hard work. So at 0900 I rode over to BIAP to catch a C130 back to Balad. The flight was fast and uneventful. I arrived at the new Balad pax terminal about 1030.
I found my office a shambles. Apparently, the unit that hosts my team had decided - without telling me - to take away half of our office space. It meant we now had to make due with one-half what we started with. There was shit stacked everywhere. I had two computers on my desk. It was hard to just find a clear path to walk from the door to the desk. I didn't have time to worry about it though. I needed to update my mission books. It has been over 70 days and multiple missions so that added up to a lot of updating. I worked all afternoon and into the evening.
I also returned to find my hooch with electrical problems. The lights and AC still worked. However, my electrical outlets didn't. This was bad because my mini-fridge had defrosted. It was dank, moldy, and stinky. The drip pan under the freezer was full of scummy water. I reported the problem to the billeting office. They couldn't promise me it would get fixed any time soon. I double checked the breaker box. Whatever the problem was, it wasn't a fuse. I went ahead and cleaned the fridge, dusted, and swept. The bathroom was a shambles too. My old neighbor had moved but hadn't notified housing. That meant nobody came to clean after his departure. I didn't mess with his old room (it wasn't locked). I did clean the crud out of the shower and sink.
About 2030, I drove over to Catfish Air to meet my two personnel flying in from Taji. I arrived just in time. It was below freezing so I bought them both a hot chocolate from Green Beans. We loaded all their gear on the truck and drove back by the office to drop it off. They also wanted to use the phones and internet. I gave them their plaques. We laughed over a few stories from their mission in Taji. It's easy to relate since we've all been there. After about an hour in the office, I took them back to their respective hooches. I thanked them again and drove back to my place.
Once back in the hooch, I took a long shower. Then I repacked my ruck. Lights out was 2330. It was a quick strike on Balad. I believe I took care of everything I needed to do. LSA Anaconda hasn't changed any.
08 January 2008: Looking ahead
At this point, it's very difficult to make it through a day without thinking about redeployment. It's so close now. I can't even have a discussion with someone on my team without the subject coming up. They have questions about what day we'll be leaving to Kuwait, when the unit flies back to the States, how long we'll demobilize at Camp Shelby, and other redeployment issues. I really don't have the definite answers right now. We only know the approximate day we'll be flying back to Camp Shelby. It's an exciting time. My concern is that we maintain mission focus. There's still work to do. I can't deny that I've been looking ahead. too.
The redeployment support mission we've had ongoing in Camp Taji came to a close today. That means some more members of my team are headed back to Kuwait. Pretty soon, the only people I'll have left here are the soldiers who originally came to Balad with me. I'll also have my latest iteration of Coast Guard. The USCG rotates their personnel too frequently. I can't keep the same people more than about three months at a time. This will be the crew that will sprint with us to the finish line.
There's about 59 days to go. See? There I went, looking ahead again. Happy Birthday Sis!
The redeployment support mission we've had ongoing in Camp Taji came to a close today. That means some more members of my team are headed back to Kuwait. Pretty soon, the only people I'll have left here are the soldiers who originally came to Balad with me. I'll also have my latest iteration of Coast Guard. The USCG rotates their personnel too frequently. I can't keep the same people more than about three months at a time. This will be the crew that will sprint with us to the finish line.
There's about 59 days to go. See? There I went, looking ahead again. Happy Birthday Sis!
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
07 January 2008: GEAUX TIGERS!
I think the title about sums it up. My unit is based in Baton Rouge. I lived there for several years prior to moving to Providence. I may not be an LSU graduate, but I am a fan. I've got a lot of friends who are on cloud nine right now. If you are within driving range of Baton Rouge right now I recommend you make the trip. That's where the party is tonight and the rest of the week. Hell, this party will last right on through Mardis Gras.
I've got a little slice of Baton Rouge right here in Camp Liberty. Those happy-go-lucky engineers who go out every night on route recon call Red Stick home. They'll be the happiest group of Combat Engineers in all of Iraq now that LSU is National Champs again. LSU - the only two-time BCS Champion. GEAUX TIGERS!
I've got a little slice of Baton Rouge right here in Camp Liberty. Those happy-go-lucky engineers who go out every night on route recon call Red Stick home. They'll be the happiest group of Combat Engineers in all of Iraq now that LSU is National Champs again. LSU - the only two-time BCS Champion. GEAUX TIGERS!
Monday, January 7, 2008
06 January 2008: Rain, then cold
Sometime around 0200 I woke up to the sound of heavy rain. A fast moving front came through and dropped just enough rain to make the morning trod to breakfast a very messy affair. I elected to skip the DFAC and, instead, ate dry cereal in the hooch. Fortunately, a fresh supply of my favorite coffee had arrived the day before so I enjoyed a taste of home. It was a bright and clear morning but the passing front brought colder temperatures. Today may have been the coldest of the deployment. It is at least 80 degrees colder now than it was just three months ago. I'm not going to debate my friends in Providence. This isn't Rhode Island cold. It's in the thirties with wind chills in the twenties. Winter has arrived in Iraq.
I spent a little time today staging stuff to be mailed home. That's yet another sign that the end is near. Most of the stuff I've accumulated in Camp Liberty I'll either give away or mail home. There's no sense in taking it back to Balad. I'll be doing the same thing with most of my gear there. It is astounding how much junk a person acquires in a year of deployment. When I first arrived, I had two dufflebags of issue equipment and uniforms, IBA, kevlar, weapon with magazines, and a backpack with laptop and personal documents. Now I've got two hooches (one in Balad and one in Camp Liberty), furniture (nothing that I paid for), TV's (again, not that I had to buy), a refrigerator, coffee brewers, loads of extra equipment that various redeploying units have given my team, and various other odds and ends. Most of this stuff I'll just hand off to my replacement. Combining the gear from this deployment with that of previous deployments, I've got enough to open my own military surplus store. It seems that way at least.
I stayed up late to watch the Titans - Chargers playoff game. As expected, the Titans lost. Jeff Fisher is a good coach but his offensive strategy always has Titans fans living on the edge. We call it "Fisherball". Fisherball is intentionally keeping the score close in every game - always rely on defense to bail you out. Have you every noticed how rare it is for the Titans to blow out an opponent? It almost never happens. This is why I love Bill Belichick. He goes for the jugular early and never lets up. I like that strategy so much better. Piling on the points is a great defense as well. Build an insurmountable lead early and then just unleash your pass rushers to feast on the opposing QB. The Titans can't ever do that because the game is always too close.
That's ok. I said it before and I'll say it again. This is the Patriots' year. I'm glad I like the Patriots.
I spent a little time today staging stuff to be mailed home. That's yet another sign that the end is near. Most of the stuff I've accumulated in Camp Liberty I'll either give away or mail home. There's no sense in taking it back to Balad. I'll be doing the same thing with most of my gear there. It is astounding how much junk a person acquires in a year of deployment. When I first arrived, I had two dufflebags of issue equipment and uniforms, IBA, kevlar, weapon with magazines, and a backpack with laptop and personal documents. Now I've got two hooches (one in Balad and one in Camp Liberty), furniture (nothing that I paid for), TV's (again, not that I had to buy), a refrigerator, coffee brewers, loads of extra equipment that various redeploying units have given my team, and various other odds and ends. Most of this stuff I'll just hand off to my replacement. Combining the gear from this deployment with that of previous deployments, I've got enough to open my own military surplus store. It seems that way at least.
I stayed up late to watch the Titans - Chargers playoff game. As expected, the Titans lost. Jeff Fisher is a good coach but his offensive strategy always has Titans fans living on the edge. We call it "Fisherball". Fisherball is intentionally keeping the score close in every game - always rely on defense to bail you out. Have you every noticed how rare it is for the Titans to blow out an opponent? It almost never happens. This is why I love Bill Belichick. He goes for the jugular early and never lets up. I like that strategy so much better. Piling on the points is a great defense as well. Build an insurmountable lead early and then just unleash your pass rushers to feast on the opposing QB. The Titans can't ever do that because the game is always too close.
That's ok. I said it before and I'll say it again. This is the Patriots' year. I'm glad I like the Patriots.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
05 January 2008: Joe knows NFL playoffs
Some days I just don't have much inspiration for an entry. Being deployed in Iraq is definitely not a life of exciting adventure every day. As a matter of fact, there are long stretches of boredom and routine. Unlike a Hollywood war flick, every day isn't filled with explosions, gunfire, and combat. Even Joes that go out on patrols or recons every day will tell you that it's more routine than exciting. That doesn't mean it's not dangerous. It just means that the normal patrol is uneventful. Although my team doesn't go out on patrol, or conduct recons, we still have days that stand out as one where danger was too close for comfort. By the same token, we have days that don't stand out at all - today for example.
My primary focus was working on the continuity book. Another day passed without any word on awards. I'm feeling more at ease in that regard. Awards may actually be complete.
At lunch I sat near a bunch of Joes who were all hyped talking about the NFL wild card games. There's ESPN Sportscenter, and then there's Joe. Joe takes sports to a personal level. He knows everything about every sport. What's even more amazing is that Joe knows every professional athlete personally. Joe never "speculates" on matters of sports. He knows. Do you want to know who is going to win a game? Ask Joe. Do you want to know how your fantasy running back is going to play? Ask Joe (your fantasy running back is a personal friend of Joe). Are you confused about a call on the play? Ask Joe.
Joe also gets very animated on sports issues. I was trying very hard to listen in on their conversation. Every one of them was talking, every one of them was loud, and every one of them knew the deal. I think half of them were convinced the Steelers were going to win. The Steelers lost. It had to be Divine intervention. Joe is never wrong.
My primary focus was working on the continuity book. Another day passed without any word on awards. I'm feeling more at ease in that regard. Awards may actually be complete.
At lunch I sat near a bunch of Joes who were all hyped talking about the NFL wild card games. There's ESPN Sportscenter, and then there's Joe. Joe takes sports to a personal level. He knows everything about every sport. What's even more amazing is that Joe knows every professional athlete personally. Joe never "speculates" on matters of sports. He knows. Do you want to know who is going to win a game? Ask Joe. Do you want to know how your fantasy running back is going to play? Ask Joe (your fantasy running back is a personal friend of Joe). Are you confused about a call on the play? Ask Joe.
Joe also gets very animated on sports issues. I was trying very hard to listen in on their conversation. Every one of them was talking, every one of them was loud, and every one of them knew the deal. I think half of them were convinced the Steelers were going to win. The Steelers lost. It had to be Divine intervention. Joe is never wrong.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
04 January 2008: Reaching another milestone
It's been over 24 hours since the last word from higher regarding awards. I think we're all in the clear - finally. Quite frankly, I can't think of another setting that could possibly exist for their sliding scale of standards.
Another milestone in the deployment was reached today. I haven't passed it yet, but my team has reached this very important weigh-station. Today I began updating the team continuity book for our replacements. This book is a very important piece of any TOA. In my case, the continuity book will give the incoming Team Chief a complete overview of the team, its missions, mission requirements, standard operating procedures and command responsibilities. Most importantly, it will provide my replacement with a guide on how to perform his job. When I arrived back in March, there was no continuity book. I had to figure all this stuff on my own. My team had no mission statement, no guidelines, no mission definitions, or even description of individual responsibilities. I'm making certain my replacement won't be faced with the same shit sandwich I inherited. I'm also requiring each member of my team to create a continuity folder for their individual replacement counterpart. We will set up the incoming team for success.
I also started updating the command summary briefing. The last time I updated the thing was back in August. I didn't realize how much we'd accomplished over the past four months. We've been very busy. Our numbers are staggering. We've redeployed fifteen Brigade Combat Teams. This required processing almost 16,000 shipping containers, certifying over 700 HAZMAT containers, and providing in-transit visibility to almost 9,000 vehicles. My team has conducted redeployment operations from Iskandariyah in the south, to as far north as Tal Afar. Over 20 Forward Operating Bases have seen visits from my team. Busy? I'm only talking about everything we've done since August. Like I said, the overall numbers for my team dating back to March 2007 are staggering.
When it's time to leave, I can say with the utmost confidence that my team has earned their keep.
Another milestone in the deployment was reached today. I haven't passed it yet, but my team has reached this very important weigh-station. Today I began updating the team continuity book for our replacements. This book is a very important piece of any TOA. In my case, the continuity book will give the incoming Team Chief a complete overview of the team, its missions, mission requirements, standard operating procedures and command responsibilities. Most importantly, it will provide my replacement with a guide on how to perform his job. When I arrived back in March, there was no continuity book. I had to figure all this stuff on my own. My team had no mission statement, no guidelines, no mission definitions, or even description of individual responsibilities. I'm making certain my replacement won't be faced with the same shit sandwich I inherited. I'm also requiring each member of my team to create a continuity folder for their individual replacement counterpart. We will set up the incoming team for success.
I also started updating the command summary briefing. The last time I updated the thing was back in August. I didn't realize how much we'd accomplished over the past four months. We've been very busy. Our numbers are staggering. We've redeployed fifteen Brigade Combat Teams. This required processing almost 16,000 shipping containers, certifying over 700 HAZMAT containers, and providing in-transit visibility to almost 9,000 vehicles. My team has conducted redeployment operations from Iskandariyah in the south, to as far north as Tal Afar. Over 20 Forward Operating Bases have seen visits from my team. Busy? I'm only talking about everything we've done since August. Like I said, the overall numbers for my team dating back to March 2007 are staggering.
When it's time to leave, I can say with the utmost confidence that my team has earned their keep.
Friday, January 4, 2008
03 January 2008: I'm trying to sleep here!
Some of the lessons taught in Iraq 101 are reinforced on an unpredictable, inconvenient timetable. IDF attacks are one of those lessons. I'm not sure what time of the morning it was - maybe about 0500? I was sound asleep. It seemed like someone was shaking me awake. As I started to wake up, I realized the CHU was shaking. The cobwebs slowly released my senses. That's when it registered. "WHUMP! WHUMP! WHUMP!" Each impact caused the CHU to rock and vibrate. Next the alarm sounded. "INCOMING! INCOMING! INCOMING!" This was quickly followed by another two impacts. They weren't hitting anywhere close enough to concern me (or anyone else on Liberty Pad 8 for that matter). I kept dozing back off just in time for another impact. All I could think was, "I'm trying to sleep here!"
I never could get back to sleep. The "All Clear" sounded. I got up and made coffee.
Later in the day I found out that the saga of awards wasn't over. That's right. Two awards were sent back to me with a whole new set of guidance from above. Fortunately, it was only two awards. I knocked them out in a jiffy. Then I took them to the Engineers' orderly room to digitally sign. They knew exactly why I was visiting as soon as I walked in. Their CQ, a Specialist, looked up and said, "Good evening Sir! Awards again?"
After supper I gathered up a big box of food items that have accumulated in my hooch. I've received a lot of packages in the mail. Once I picked through and retrieved the items I wanted, I had a lot of leftovers. I took them to the Engineers and thanked them for letting me continually use their orderly room. They were grateful.
Ok, no IDF tonight! I need some uninterrupted sleep.
I never could get back to sleep. The "All Clear" sounded. I got up and made coffee.
Later in the day I found out that the saga of awards wasn't over. That's right. Two awards were sent back to me with a whole new set of guidance from above. Fortunately, it was only two awards. I knocked them out in a jiffy. Then I took them to the Engineers' orderly room to digitally sign. They knew exactly why I was visiting as soon as I walked in. Their CQ, a Specialist, looked up and said, "Good evening Sir! Awards again?"
After supper I gathered up a big box of food items that have accumulated in my hooch. I've received a lot of packages in the mail. Once I picked through and retrieved the items I wanted, I had a lot of leftovers. I took them to the Engineers and thanked them for letting me continually use their orderly room. They were grateful.
Ok, no IDF tonight! I need some uninterrupted sleep.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
02 January 2008: 300
I'm definitely not making reference to the movie. This was day 300 of my deployment. If I do the math correctly on that 365 BOG, I believe that means 65 days to go. It's been almost a year since I reported to Camp Shelby, MS, with my unit. I'll be certain to celebrate that anniversary - NOT!
Now that awards are complete (I hope), I was able to catch up on some considerable paperwork that has backed up. I had three separate AAR's to write for starters. My team didn't have any inspections or other work scheduled so I gave them a personal day. They did stop by my hooch late in the afternoon to drop off a couple bags of ice. Unlike Balad, my hooch here doesn't have a mini-fridge. I rely on a cooler.
I've attempted to watch a few bowl games but it's difficult at best. Most of the games are in prime time in the U.S. That means kickoffs are after midnight. I can't hang. What ends up happening is I catch the highlights in the morning. Then AFN shows repeats all day. Everywhere I go - DFAC, gym, MWR, HQ's - there are games on. However, it's no fun to watch because we all know who won and have seen all the highlights.
Speaking of football, I've heard that Army is planning on switching to the "spread-option" attack next season. My stomach is turning already at the thought. This offense is based on a quick passing scheme and utilizes multiple receivers. Why are the powers that be at Army so fixated on passing attacks? Army simply doesn't have the athletes or size to be competitive with pass-based offenses. The reason Navy and Air Force succeed is because they utilize offensive schemes that negate size advantages of the competition. Their running of triple-option offenses allow their outsized teams to put multiple "hats" at the point of attack. This should be an easy concept for Army to grasp. We teach the importance of having mass and deception when preparing officers to lead offensive operations. I want to be wrong, but, I already have a bad feeling about next season. As long as Army focuses on passing it's going to be a long season.
Anyway, I've got 300 days down on this deployment.
Now that awards are complete (I hope), I was able to catch up on some considerable paperwork that has backed up. I had three separate AAR's to write for starters. My team didn't have any inspections or other work scheduled so I gave them a personal day. They did stop by my hooch late in the afternoon to drop off a couple bags of ice. Unlike Balad, my hooch here doesn't have a mini-fridge. I rely on a cooler.
I've attempted to watch a few bowl games but it's difficult at best. Most of the games are in prime time in the U.S. That means kickoffs are after midnight. I can't hang. What ends up happening is I catch the highlights in the morning. Then AFN shows repeats all day. Everywhere I go - DFAC, gym, MWR, HQ's - there are games on. However, it's no fun to watch because we all know who won and have seen all the highlights.
Speaking of football, I've heard that Army is planning on switching to the "spread-option" attack next season. My stomach is turning already at the thought. This offense is based on a quick passing scheme and utilizes multiple receivers. Why are the powers that be at Army so fixated on passing attacks? Army simply doesn't have the athletes or size to be competitive with pass-based offenses. The reason Navy and Air Force succeed is because they utilize offensive schemes that negate size advantages of the competition. Their running of triple-option offenses allow their outsized teams to put multiple "hats" at the point of attack. This should be an easy concept for Army to grasp. We teach the importance of having mass and deception when preparing officers to lead offensive operations. I want to be wrong, but, I already have a bad feeling about next season. As long as Army focuses on passing it's going to be a long season.
Anyway, I've got 300 days down on this deployment.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
01 January 2008: Hello 2008!
Once again, I will buck my normal practice of posting the day after. New Year's is simply too important. Happy New Year from Camp Liberty! There were actually a few signs indicating some effort to celebrate. They were subtle.
I awoke in time for early breakfast. I got back to my room in time to see the ball drop in Times Square. That's 0800 here. AFN sports also showed the live broadcast of some guy breaking the world record motorcycle jumping record. Then I set about the task of completing the final touches on my team's awards. I took about another hour out of the morning to observe another HAZMAT inspection.
At lunchtime, I found the DFAC staff was in the New Year spirit. All the TCN's were wearing pointy party hats. They were serving Welch's sparkling grape juice to whoever wanted to pretend it was champagne. A couple of the TCN's were traversing the mess hall and randomly blowing plastic party horns. Most of the Joes ignored this. It was goofy though. Since it was random, every horn blast caused someone to jump.
I stopped at the engineer's orderly room after lunch. I had to borrow one of their computers to digitally sign the awards. I wished everyone a happy new year. The Sergeant Major was practically demanding that every Joe walking into the orderly room had to say happy new year. I said it on my own accord. Everyone seemed relatively happy.
A few hours later those same engineers were gearing up again. It may be New Year's Day but there's still work to do here. Instead of watching football, eating black-eyed peas, and spending a day with family, these Joes were going outside the wire to perform their dangerous mission. As I watched them gear up I couldn't help but be proud of all of them. They were laughing, joking, and feeling alright. Yeah they bad, they're nationwide.
I hope ZZ Top doesn't mind me borrowing a line of lyrics. Happy New Year everyone!
I awoke in time for early breakfast. I got back to my room in time to see the ball drop in Times Square. That's 0800 here. AFN sports also showed the live broadcast of some guy breaking the world record motorcycle jumping record. Then I set about the task of completing the final touches on my team's awards. I took about another hour out of the morning to observe another HAZMAT inspection.
At lunchtime, I found the DFAC staff was in the New Year spirit. All the TCN's were wearing pointy party hats. They were serving Welch's sparkling grape juice to whoever wanted to pretend it was champagne. A couple of the TCN's were traversing the mess hall and randomly blowing plastic party horns. Most of the Joes ignored this. It was goofy though. Since it was random, every horn blast caused someone to jump.
I stopped at the engineer's orderly room after lunch. I had to borrow one of their computers to digitally sign the awards. I wished everyone a happy new year. The Sergeant Major was practically demanding that every Joe walking into the orderly room had to say happy new year. I said it on my own accord. Everyone seemed relatively happy.
A few hours later those same engineers were gearing up again. It may be New Year's Day but there's still work to do here. Instead of watching football, eating black-eyed peas, and spending a day with family, these Joes were going outside the wire to perform their dangerous mission. As I watched them gear up I couldn't help but be proud of all of them. They were laughing, joking, and feeling alright. Yeah they bad, they're nationwide.
I hope ZZ Top doesn't mind me borrowing a line of lyrics. Happy New Year everyone!
31 December 2007: Goodbye 2007!
The final day, the last act, the setting sun, and in mortar lingo - "rounds complete!" Yes, 2007 has come to a close. It's New Year's Eve in Iraq. I can only speak for the microcosm of Camp Liberty. Today was like any other day. If it weren't for the calendar, I'd never know.
I kept my eyes open for signs of celebration. The decorations in the DFAC are still leftovers from Christmas. There were no flyers at the MWR advertising festivities. Perhaps one in ten Joes even said "Happy New Year!" I guess they are saving up for tomorrow.
I spent a good portion of the day finishing up the latest round of awards. My team also conducted a couple of HAZMAT container inspections. Work went on as usual. As dusk started to fall, the Cajun engineers were gearing up as usual. New Year's Eve or not, they were doing their normal night route recon. All their RG31's, Huskies, Buffaloes, and MRAP's were loaded, armed, and ready to rumble.
My last gasp on any celebration came as the clock approached midnight. I stepped out into the very chilly night to look, listen, and wait. At midnight it was almost whisper quiet. In the distance I heard a car horn honking. I shivered for about ten minutes past. As I turned to walk back inside I noticed a helicopter popping flares on the western horizon. Happy New Year! I had to go look at the calendar again just to be certain.
At least AFN carried the bowl games. I watched the Armed Forces Bowl and pulled for Air Force Academy. I was too tired to stay up for the other games.
That pretty much sums up the entire day. Goodbye 2007!
I kept my eyes open for signs of celebration. The decorations in the DFAC are still leftovers from Christmas. There were no flyers at the MWR advertising festivities. Perhaps one in ten Joes even said "Happy New Year!" I guess they are saving up for tomorrow.
I spent a good portion of the day finishing up the latest round of awards. My team also conducted a couple of HAZMAT container inspections. Work went on as usual. As dusk started to fall, the Cajun engineers were gearing up as usual. New Year's Eve or not, they were doing their normal night route recon. All their RG31's, Huskies, Buffaloes, and MRAP's were loaded, armed, and ready to rumble.
My last gasp on any celebration came as the clock approached midnight. I stepped out into the very chilly night to look, listen, and wait. At midnight it was almost whisper quiet. In the distance I heard a car horn honking. I shivered for about ten minutes past. As I turned to walk back inside I noticed a helicopter popping flares on the western horizon. Happy New Year! I had to go look at the calendar again just to be certain.
At least AFN carried the bowl games. I watched the Armed Forces Bowl and pulled for Air Force Academy. I was too tired to stay up for the other games.
That pretty much sums up the entire day. Goodbye 2007!
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