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.
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