18 April 2006 – Hello to one and all. I apologize profusely for my neglect of correspondence over the past….two and a half weeks? To date I have received one care package from Shannon and the boys, as well as a very nice letter from John and Peggy Millman (thanks guys!) and a number of other nice emails which I have promptly ignored under the strangely perverted idea that “sometime” in the future, I would have….what do you call it…..”Time” to answer them. For this I am truly sorry, because I know that unless I strive to become a better pen pal, I won’t have anyone with which I can correspond. So here goes….
The flight into Baghdad was mysterious, scary, exciting, and strangely familiar in it’s standard military inefficiency. Myself and my traveling partner (also destined for my command) were told that we were leaving early, so we were whisked off to the terminal at about 1300 to “register” for the flight, with instructions to have our bags outside the tent at 1700 where we would be picked up….1715 rolls around (with a 1730 check in time….) A frantic and annoyed phone call later only to find out the folks arranging the flight were “assuming” the other had made arrangements for us to get to the airport….We got there just in time to throw our worldly possessions on top of the pallet of bags and get ready for a departure any moment. We got into the
bus at 1030, went to the tarmac, climbed aboard only to walk right off, because they “confused” our departure with another flight….we finally left at Oh-Dark-thirty and slipped into the icy blackness of the moonlight night and promptly went to sleep.
The landing while interesting and a little roller coaster like (we had one yakker!) was mildly interesting. We stumbled off the plane, waited to “get scanned into country” then wrestled with bag netting until we got our stuff. The welcome party of one (lucky bastard on duty – something that I would be repeating two weeks later!) was nice, informative, and bleary eyed. It made for an interesting introduction into county. Following a bumpy ride to base, check in to a rainy cot in a tent, and a mad dash to the phones to let Shannon know I was alive, we passed out at 5am until almost noon.
A word on the camp, or camps rather. After the invasion, the area was quickly cordoned off into about 10000 small camps, FOB’s (forward operating bases) and operational areas. As more folks have moved in, and not exactly wanting to risk your neck to work an admin job on the other side of the airport, they wisely decided to expand the barriers out, so each of the good sized camps are connected by a serviceable, partially paved, mostly potholed road with Saddam’s original barrier wall to the outside. Since that first night I have come to calm myself with several hundred trips back and forth on that road, but finding out on a moonless night two weeks ago that the only thing separating me from “hoardes” of Al-Qaida zealots was a cement block wall and contract (read mercenary) security from Africa at either end of the roads at various checkpoints, had me convinced that I had landed in lala land.
Since that first night however, things have steadily gotten better, and busier. People here are very open and welcoming. I spent only one night in the tent. While the waiting list for permanent trailers was a month or two, I was “helped” into a trailer at the other end of a nearby base with a handshake agreement until I was settled. Before I knew what was going on, I had a cell phone (of course, with Iraqna’s service, it serves well as a paperweight!), Toyota 4-runner, and a desk! My office didn’t have air conditioning, and after squeaking a bit, this wheel now has the best a/c in the building! Now if I can only do the same with internet in my trailer! I have moved out of the trailer too – I had to play musical “cribs” with a CDR who was returning from R&R, but once he moved out, I have settled into his CONEX box. Yes, I live in a shipping container. My room is about 7’ by 14’ with an AC, Fridge, Microwave, and most importantly, running water, toilet and shower! I don’t have to worry about walking through the mud and the muck to get to the latrines!
My days are now filled with meetings, hours on the computer, driving all over this base to arrange, and supervise testing, system installations, and attending more meetings. I am averaging about 20 hours a week in one Video Teleconference or another. It’s funny how quickly you can adjust to things though. I don’t even scratch my head anymore when I am saluted by a soldier wearing PT gear, no hat, yet carrying a Squad Automatic Weapon. Or better yet, seeing marvelous palaces made of marble serve as meeting rooms for the most dull and dreary plans. I can’t say that Saddam had any concept of good taste or décor, but some of the handiwork is truly fascinating. Giant chandeliers, detailed mosaic work, and the strangest names for streets – Sniper alley refers to a stretch of road on a nearby camp whose travelers were routinely exposed to sniper attacks from a nearby apartment building which had a clear view of the route. Not so anymore. Gotta love gallows humor though. Funny as well – when I was stateside at Fort Jackson, the graffiti on the walls of the latrines was annoying. Here, it has significance, much the same as Kilroy did for generations past.
Everything is simultaneously important, significant and serious, but also silly, ridiculous, and full of irony. Maybe it’s that reminder of potential life and death that tempers your attitude, but helps you to revel in the absurd. Nighttime can be spent outside looking at the stars, marveling at the city outside the walls and the beauty of the occasional 50 Cal tracer string you see in the distance. Last week, a couple of mortar rounds dropped into the edge of camp. Two concurrent observations were made – an acquaintance was not allowed in the dining facility because he didn’t have a flak jacket…..incoming rounds have a tendency to suspend logic! The other observation is the enemy tactics. We think they hate the portapotty contractor (I don’t blame them!) They plant a tube in the bushes, and then somewhere down the road, walk by, drop a round and run. Their training and knowledge of parabolic trajectories is lacking however, because the tube is permanently aimed at the porta potties. Severity of the mortar fire is rated on a scale of how many shitters get demolished during the attack! I guess that is all much the better that I have indoor plumbing!
Tonight, as we were coming back from chow, we realized that we had missed most of a Charlie Daniel’s concert. We did manage to make it back in time to hear Devil Went Down to Georgia! He was in country here with Dave Price – a New York disc jockey who made a report on the today show earlier. From the critique, he really laid it into those who say the war is going poorly. That is nice, because as much as you can desensitize yourself to things, we are taking hits about one a day from IED’s. The PAO releases reports on a daily basis – one here, one there. I would like to think that I will have a hand in fixing things, and for every moment that I feel bad about not being home to coach little league, or fix up the house, or even just snuggle up with Shannon, I look at these amazing, weird, motivated, crazy kids wearing Kevlar, flak jackets, carrying serious hardware, all while goofing on the way to the chow hall. They may not agree with things, they may not like their situations, but they are living. That is a lot more than can be said for many back home.
How many times do you go to the malls, and see the bored looks, the lazy strolls, the self absorbed passing time? Waiting for what? Here, we are going 20 hours a day –
some of it wasted, some of it lost to the abyss of meetings, but altogether we are alive. Some of these kids realize as well how tenuous that is, and are determined to treat it as precious as diamonds. One final example – Huan and I had to go tour an Entry Control Point – access to the base recently. Since you are NEAR outside, but not necessarily in sight of the outside, we were armored up, with our weapons locked and loaded. We walked around, took pictures, and discussed the layout with the folks in charge of that part of security. All during this time, we were “shadowed” by an Army SPC. At first glance this soldier looked serious – ballistic glasses, M16, gloves. The soldier never looked at us, but wherever we walked was always between us and the outer gate, facing outward, even to the point of walking backwards at times. No one ordered the soldier to do this, but it was expected – someone was escorting us and covering our backs. This soldier stood about 5’8” or so, set jaw, no emotions. As we walked back to the inner perimeter, and back to the main trailer, the soldier relaxed a bit, started to smile, struck up a conversation and even laughed and joked a bit. SHE had been doing this job for about six months – was a truck driver by training, but had been pulled into security because of the need. The transition was amazing – this effervescent, young girl
(yeah, I know I am showing my age by referring to a 22 year old woman as a girl) just moments ago had been cold as steel and a warrior. This is someone who won’t go back home, and hang out waiting for something to happen. Once you have routinely stared at the uncertainty of life, death and roadside bombs, you learn not to wait for life to happen to you. I look at it this way – when or really if, someone ever would ask me how the war is going, I would answer that it doesn’t matter. Wars are planned and administered by Generals and their bean counters. By that measure, I could take or leave it as to our success. That is not why 99% of the kids over here are over here. They are doing this because while the conditions suck, they love their comrades, they like the professionalism and traditions of their duties, and because on some level they are adding meaning to their lives. The Iraqis not trying to blow us up realize this and from what I have seen in my limited exposure appreciate the fact that someone so young is willing to do this. For that reason, we can have no other option but to succeed.
So before I get more philosophical, I will sign off, and let Shannon hack this to bits with editing and insertion of my pictures. Hope all is well and keep the mail coming. I will strive to give weekly updates. In the meantime, take care, and live the lives we are blessed with!
