That’s what I am in right now, pure and simple. That’s the only way I can seem to explain the way I feel about going to Afghanistan. At a time when more than 50% of the guys in my battalion would gladly skip this deployment I am actually fighting to go. When asked why, I have been going with my generic fallback answer of money and college money but I don’t feel that those are the reasons anymore. I volunteered for this deployment 1 month after I got back from Iraq and the main reason being at that time was because I knew I would have to go whether I wanted to or not. Having been in the Army for some time I knew that it would behoove me to volunteer and go to a unit of my choice before I was voluntold and sent to a unit I would not like.
For my Iraq deployment money and college money were definitely a couple motivating factors but not so much this time around. I have been thinking a lot about this lately because so many of my friends both military and civilian think I am absolutely crazy for wanting to go. And I can see where they are coming from, I have no illusions about this deployment. It is going to suck and it is going to suck a lot. For one thing the weather over there is going to be extreme, extreme cold and extreme hot, two things I am not fond of. Also the living conditions are going to be way different than Iraq was. This time around there will be no climate controlled CHU with a defined living space and hard wired internet. Nope this time around it will be tents with wood floors.
So why am I so determined to go? Well it came to me while I was serving with my unit at Camp Grayling this last September. Plain and simple, because all my friends that I went to Iraq with are going. That right now is my driving force, my tunnel vision. It really hit home while I was working at the squad live fire range which every company from my battalion had to go through. All my friends that I made while serving in Iraq are sprinkled throughout the battalion in different companies. So as each company finished at the range I found myself having to say goodbye to my friends as they go onto more training in Mississippi before they leave for Afghanistan. And here I was stuck at home as they are leaving, it was not a good feeling. Saying goodbye to my friend Jim was the hardest of all, especially after he confided in me on how nervous he was about this deployment. It really hit me harder than I thought it would.
And last but not least it has always been my belief that if you are serving in the military, either active or reserves, you should be able to deploy. What is the point of being in the military if you are not able to go to war which is the main reason for having an Army in the first place. I see some soldiers here in the Michigan guard that have been in for 10 years or more yet they have never deployed and quite honestly it annoys the hell out of me. I dont ever want to be that guy.
So not to follow too many clichés. I want to go so that I can serve with my buddies to the left and right of me. Personally I do not hold much interest in the inner workings of Afghanistan, that’s not to mean that I do not care. But it is what it is, much like in Iraq, the future of Afghanistan is going to be made by the people of Afghanistan and not by whatever policy the United States may have in mind.
I do have to admit also that part of it is because the battalion medical officer made it pretty clear that he did not think I would be able to recover from my injury enough to be able to deploy. If there is one thing that motivates me to do something it is being told that I cant. For good or bad .
Bottom line, I want to go to Afghanistan because all my buddies are going and I do not want to sit at home while they are over there. That is why I am fighting to and determined to go.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Thursday, July 7, 2011
A short story-Fear
Below is a short story which I wrote for,and was first published in,the Huron River Review's volume 10. The Huron River review is a book of short stories,peotry and pictures contributed by current and former students of Washtenaw Community College.I wrote this story in the summer of 2010 when I first returned from Iraq and I was having a difficult time sleeping.Enjoy!
Fear
A train whistle , that damn train whistle, that far away lonely train whistle that prevented my sleep for so long. That train whistle that cut through the still night air all those nights. I can hear it, floating across the night air, singing its forlorn song for all the world to hear. That one note slowly repeating itself over and over in that long slow drawl. Like an unwanted alarm clock that you have no power to turn off, bleating in the night, interrupting all the stillness outside my bedroom window. Is that what has woken me this night?
Is it the wind chimes? The sing song of the wind chimes that you actually missed not so long ago. Gently tinkling in the mid summer breeze. The wind chimes that used to serenade me to sleep, that gave me that homey feeling. That sound that used to comfort me. That feeling that everything was alright in the world. Is that what has woken me this night?
Or is it the quiet then? The total and complete silence, that quiet that kept me awake those many nights. That quiet that permeates the night, that lays a dark blanket over my thoughts, keeps me from sleeping. The quiet that can be so loud sometimes, it keeps me awake for what seems like weeks, the quiet that almost drove me mad. Is that what has woken me this night?
Or is it the soft bump at my door, the nervous shuffling of feet on the wood floor. The slightest whimper issued from the throat, labored panting of distress. Is that what has woken me this night?
Then the sound again, that soft rumble in the distance. That sound that awakens the fear in me. The soft rumble that is slowly followed by the deep ripping sound as if the sky is tearing apart. It is a familiar sound, or is it? In that rift between sleep and reality it is hard to discern. Are those explosions in the distance?
The panic hits full force now, the hammering of my heart in my chest as if it is trying to burst through. The cool tingly release of pure adrenaline into the blood stream. My hands start to shake and my mind starts to race.
I jump out of bed in a total and complete frenzy. Where am I? What is going on? Where is my rifle, my helmet, my body armor? Searching the room with glazed, half-asleep eyes. The reality still escapes me. Only one thing on my mind. I have to get to safety, to the bunkers. Those cool, crypt-like shelters that are supposed to keep you safe. Those sandbag fortresses filled with other wide eyed soldiers praying silently under muted breath. The fear is like an electrical charge crackling in the air. So palpable you can actually feel the hair on your arms rise.
In that space between dreams and reality where everything is fuzzy and unclear I can hear him now. Impatient, waiting for me to open the door. As I reach out to open the door and let him in, I am still not sure if all this is real. Is it a dream, a nightmare?
He comes in hesitantly at first not really sure if this is the safest spot to be, but knowing it is safer than where he has come from. I’ve had the same feeling before. He hears the distant noise also and it affects him the same way. That deep rumble that has no origin, that comes out of nowhere.
He feels that same tightness in his chest. I can see it in his eyes, those deep brown eyes that usually hold nothing but innocence and happiness. That deep-rooted fear that starts in the gut and slowly works its way to the rest of the body. Radiating from my center, all my muscles constricting, my body shaking with anticipation. How is it possible that all my muscles can constrict at once? My mouth goes dry and I find it hard to swallow. That fear that seems to coat my mouth and tongue, thickening, overpowering. The weird coppery taste in my mouth, the buzzing in my ears. My eyes seem to grow and everything becomes clearer, crisper. I am the master of time. Yet, I feel as if I am moving through syrup. The kind that is thick and soupy, the kind that slows you down. I get that queasy feeling in my stomach. That loose feeling deep in my belly that makes me feel like vomiting.
He enters the room, it is always the same, those sideways glances, furtively seeking the safest spot. Is it under the desk? Is it under the bed? Is it inside the closet? But it always ends up the same, the safest most secure spot is on the bed next to me. I slowly drift back into the real world, I am not over there. My rifle is not next to the bed, I no longer have a need for a helmet or body armor. There is no need to run to the concrete shelters. There are no explosions, just the soft distant rumblings of a mid-summer thunderstorm.
As my heart rate slows and the immediate panic fades, I climb back into bed. Knowing that I will not be going to sleep any time soon, secure in the knowledge that I am finally home, safe. My buddy looks at me with soft pleading eyes and I pat the spot next to me on the bed. He jumps up eagerly. I gently stroke his head and he rewards me with a wet tongue across the face. Just me and my dog lying in bed listening to the rain.
This story is dedicated to my dog Smokey 2001-2011.
Fear
A train whistle , that damn train whistle, that far away lonely train whistle that prevented my sleep for so long. That train whistle that cut through the still night air all those nights. I can hear it, floating across the night air, singing its forlorn song for all the world to hear. That one note slowly repeating itself over and over in that long slow drawl. Like an unwanted alarm clock that you have no power to turn off, bleating in the night, interrupting all the stillness outside my bedroom window. Is that what has woken me this night?
Is it the wind chimes? The sing song of the wind chimes that you actually missed not so long ago. Gently tinkling in the mid summer breeze. The wind chimes that used to serenade me to sleep, that gave me that homey feeling. That sound that used to comfort me. That feeling that everything was alright in the world. Is that what has woken me this night?
Or is it the quiet then? The total and complete silence, that quiet that kept me awake those many nights. That quiet that permeates the night, that lays a dark blanket over my thoughts, keeps me from sleeping. The quiet that can be so loud sometimes, it keeps me awake for what seems like weeks, the quiet that almost drove me mad. Is that what has woken me this night?
Or is it the soft bump at my door, the nervous shuffling of feet on the wood floor. The slightest whimper issued from the throat, labored panting of distress. Is that what has woken me this night?
Then the sound again, that soft rumble in the distance. That sound that awakens the fear in me. The soft rumble that is slowly followed by the deep ripping sound as if the sky is tearing apart. It is a familiar sound, or is it? In that rift between sleep and reality it is hard to discern. Are those explosions in the distance?
The panic hits full force now, the hammering of my heart in my chest as if it is trying to burst through. The cool tingly release of pure adrenaline into the blood stream. My hands start to shake and my mind starts to race.
I jump out of bed in a total and complete frenzy. Where am I? What is going on? Where is my rifle, my helmet, my body armor? Searching the room with glazed, half-asleep eyes. The reality still escapes me. Only one thing on my mind. I have to get to safety, to the bunkers. Those cool, crypt-like shelters that are supposed to keep you safe. Those sandbag fortresses filled with other wide eyed soldiers praying silently under muted breath. The fear is like an electrical charge crackling in the air. So palpable you can actually feel the hair on your arms rise.
In that space between dreams and reality where everything is fuzzy and unclear I can hear him now. Impatient, waiting for me to open the door. As I reach out to open the door and let him in, I am still not sure if all this is real. Is it a dream, a nightmare?
He comes in hesitantly at first not really sure if this is the safest spot to be, but knowing it is safer than where he has come from. I’ve had the same feeling before. He hears the distant noise also and it affects him the same way. That deep rumble that has no origin, that comes out of nowhere.
He feels that same tightness in his chest. I can see it in his eyes, those deep brown eyes that usually hold nothing but innocence and happiness. That deep-rooted fear that starts in the gut and slowly works its way to the rest of the body. Radiating from my center, all my muscles constricting, my body shaking with anticipation. How is it possible that all my muscles can constrict at once? My mouth goes dry and I find it hard to swallow. That fear that seems to coat my mouth and tongue, thickening, overpowering. The weird coppery taste in my mouth, the buzzing in my ears. My eyes seem to grow and everything becomes clearer, crisper. I am the master of time. Yet, I feel as if I am moving through syrup. The kind that is thick and soupy, the kind that slows you down. I get that queasy feeling in my stomach. That loose feeling deep in my belly that makes me feel like vomiting.
He enters the room, it is always the same, those sideways glances, furtively seeking the safest spot. Is it under the desk? Is it under the bed? Is it inside the closet? But it always ends up the same, the safest most secure spot is on the bed next to me. I slowly drift back into the real world, I am not over there. My rifle is not next to the bed, I no longer have a need for a helmet or body armor. There is no need to run to the concrete shelters. There are no explosions, just the soft distant rumblings of a mid-summer thunderstorm.
As my heart rate slows and the immediate panic fades, I climb back into bed. Knowing that I will not be going to sleep any time soon, secure in the knowledge that I am finally home, safe. My buddy looks at me with soft pleading eyes and I pat the spot next to me on the bed. He jumps up eagerly. I gently stroke his head and he rewards me with a wet tongue across the face. Just me and my dog lying in bed listening to the rain.
This story is dedicated to my dog Smokey 2001-2011.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
On being "Home"
Being home has been a lot harder than I thought it was going to be. I was under the false assumption, that having been to war before, that coming home would be easier. But I have actually found that this time around was actually harder. The last few weeks in Iraq I couldn't wait to get home, but once I got here I felt extremely out of place. Basically it felt like I had been in a time warp where nothing at home had changed. Yet I had been to this foreign land and done all these crazy things over the last year (I have been home for 10 months and I still feel out of place). I found that the things that I thought I missed the most while I was overseas were not that exciting to me anymore. For instance, just hanging out in a bar and drinking, I found to be incredibly boring when I got back. I had all these aspirations to do all these things with all my friends that I had missed over the year. But after a few months of hanging out, all I wanted to do was have some quiet me time. Part of the reason for this is that over there you can never be alone. No matter where you go you are stuck on the FOB where there is always someone around.
One thing that made it harder for me being home was going on vacation to Korea so soon after coming home from Iraq. I should have waited at least four months before I went there. Traveling from one side of the globe to the other and back again really did nothing for my sleep schedule. The few weeks I was home from Iraq before I went to Korea I was unable to sleep. On a side note, when I got to Korea I had no problem sleeping. A lot of it had to do with the time zones, your body gets used to a certain sleep cycle when you maintain it for several months. So when I got home, I found it incredibly hard to adjust to the new time zone. I actually had to go the doctor and get sleeping pills because for several months I was unable to sleep for more than four hours at a time. Changing time zones had a lot to do with it but I also think that there was a lot of stress involved. My unit did not see very much combat while we were in Iraq, but nonetheless it was still a very stressful deployment. Being on constant alert for 10 months really wears you down.
Another mistake I made was not going back to work, I'm sure that when I go back to work I will want to kick myself in the ass for saying this. But I really do think that it was not a good idea. Going from being constantly busy, to a dead stop, did not work well for me. Going to school has alleviated a lot of the boredom. I constantly have to remind myself that the reason I went back into the military was so that I could go back to school. I am now in my second semester at Washtenaw community college and I am still enjoying it for the most part. But I find myself still not sure of what I want to go to school for. I am taking a introduction to journalism class this semester which has convinced me that that is not something I want to do. I am still considering becoming a high school English teacher, but I have not committed 100%. One thing for sure, I am done with construction, I have absolutely no interest in it anymore. Although after my next deployment I may have to do some of that type of work when I return just to keep myself busy.
Besides the basic stress of returning home after a year-long deployment in Iraq I have been plagued with several bad incidents concerning friends and family. It just seemed that it was one thing after another and I just couldn't catch a break. With these events and the grayness of winter I found myself in a deep depression. I would actually find at times that I missed being in Iraq as silly as that sounds. And I find myself actually looking forward to my upcoming deployment to Afghanistan. I know that sounds crazy but when I am here at home I feel like a lump on a log. I know that it will be dangerous over there but I find myself incredibly bored here. When you are overseas on deployment you actually feel as if you are a part of something bigger than yourself. I find myself on a fence when it comes to the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. I no longer feel that we have any business over there and that no matter what we do, nothing over there in either of those countries is going to change. Yet, if we are going to be at war, I find myself wanting to be over there at least doing something as opposed to being home and doing nothing. I think that serving in the military has made me somewhat of a adrenaline junkie. In the movie "The Hurt Locker" in the ending credits they make the statement "war is a drug" which I find to be a fairly true statement. The best way I can describe it is a quote from a soldier in the movie "Restrepo": reporter, how are you going to reintegrate back into civilian life, soldier "I honestly have no idea".
One thing that made it harder for me being home was going on vacation to Korea so soon after coming home from Iraq. I should have waited at least four months before I went there. Traveling from one side of the globe to the other and back again really did nothing for my sleep schedule. The few weeks I was home from Iraq before I went to Korea I was unable to sleep. On a side note, when I got to Korea I had no problem sleeping. A lot of it had to do with the time zones, your body gets used to a certain sleep cycle when you maintain it for several months. So when I got home, I found it incredibly hard to adjust to the new time zone. I actually had to go the doctor and get sleeping pills because for several months I was unable to sleep for more than four hours at a time. Changing time zones had a lot to do with it but I also think that there was a lot of stress involved. My unit did not see very much combat while we were in Iraq, but nonetheless it was still a very stressful deployment. Being on constant alert for 10 months really wears you down.
Another mistake I made was not going back to work, I'm sure that when I go back to work I will want to kick myself in the ass for saying this. But I really do think that it was not a good idea. Going from being constantly busy, to a dead stop, did not work well for me. Going to school has alleviated a lot of the boredom. I constantly have to remind myself that the reason I went back into the military was so that I could go back to school. I am now in my second semester at Washtenaw community college and I am still enjoying it for the most part. But I find myself still not sure of what I want to go to school for. I am taking a introduction to journalism class this semester which has convinced me that that is not something I want to do. I am still considering becoming a high school English teacher, but I have not committed 100%. One thing for sure, I am done with construction, I have absolutely no interest in it anymore. Although after my next deployment I may have to do some of that type of work when I return just to keep myself busy.
Besides the basic stress of returning home after a year-long deployment in Iraq I have been plagued with several bad incidents concerning friends and family. It just seemed that it was one thing after another and I just couldn't catch a break. With these events and the grayness of winter I found myself in a deep depression. I would actually find at times that I missed being in Iraq as silly as that sounds. And I find myself actually looking forward to my upcoming deployment to Afghanistan. I know that sounds crazy but when I am here at home I feel like a lump on a log. I know that it will be dangerous over there but I find myself incredibly bored here. When you are overseas on deployment you actually feel as if you are a part of something bigger than yourself. I find myself on a fence when it comes to the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. I no longer feel that we have any business over there and that no matter what we do, nothing over there in either of those countries is going to change. Yet, if we are going to be at war, I find myself wanting to be over there at least doing something as opposed to being home and doing nothing. I think that serving in the military has made me somewhat of a adrenaline junkie. In the movie "The Hurt Locker" in the ending credits they make the statement "war is a drug" which I find to be a fairly true statement. The best way I can describe it is a quote from a soldier in the movie "Restrepo": reporter, how are you going to reintegrate back into civilian life, soldier "I honestly have no idea".
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Back to it
As the people following my blog can see I made another post today. I took a long hiatus Since Iraq basically concentrating on getting back into the swing of things here at home, vacation and getting into my school routine. I have plenty more to write about from my adventures in Iraq and of course I will be starting the process of pre-deployment / deployment all over again in the coming months. Yes it is true, I volunteered for a tour in Afghanistan and I will be heading that way middle of next year or so. Just wanted to let people know that the blog is no where near to being over.
Stranger in a strange land
Well I have to say that Korea is nothing that I had expected it to be. It is not a bad place to visit but I find myself getting bored quickly. In hindsight I would say that three weeks here is too much, you could probably see all the cool sights and absorb the culture in about ten days or so. The culture here is very secular meaning that there is not a whole lot of outside influence. They do of course have some foreign brand names here but for the most part everything is Korean. One thing that I found to be different from a lot of countries is that hardly anyone here speaks English. Not that I am saying that foreign countries should adopt English but I have found in my various travels over the globe that even in most foreign countries there would be a portion that could speak at least a little English. Not here, though it makes for some interesting communication usually involving various hand gestures and pointing at objects. Basically trying to communicate here is a giant game of charades or pictionary.
One of the reasons I say that three weeks is too long is because pretty much every city in Korea is exactly the same. Without much outside influence they seem to be happy all looking the same. They all have the same style of clothing, the same haircuts (men and women) and when you are walking down the street the same stores. They may have a shopping district or market area that covers 5 square city blocks but on every block you will see the same types of stores. I think you could really get the feel of Korea by visiting Seoul, the DMZ (the de-militarized zone between North and South Korea) and Jeju Island.
For the most part the Korean people are very friendly and courteous but there are defiantly some here that want nothing to do with foreigners. Here in Korea a foreigner is referred to as a way-gook (now I know where the American soldiers from the Korean and Vietnam wars got their Monikers for the enemy soldiers which was gook) and every once in a while you will get called that, usually by an older man or woman. The younger generation seems to be a lot more accepting of foreigners than the older generations seem to be. One thing that I have had a hard time adjusting to here is the staring, every where you go people stare at you. Korea is not really a big tourist attraction, probably because no one knows anything about it. You can go days here without seeing another foreigner, in the bigger cities like Seoul and Daeygo they are more prolific but even then they are few and far between. So when you are walking around town you are defiantly the oddity and people will just blatantly stare at you which after a while can become quite annoying. Of course if you want to see a bunch of Americans you can always go to the Itchewon section of Seoul where you can witness the complete stupidity of our glorious American soldiers that are stationed here, idiotic morons that make Americans look like total retards (I just cant even put into words how annoyed I was when I went to the American GI section of Seoul, don’t get me wrong I have had my “I am in the Army away from home moments” but this was just ridiculous).
The foreign exchange here is not too bad. The Korean dollar is called a Won and at this point in time 1,000 Won equals about .80 U.S. cents. They also have coins which are the 500 won coin and the 100 won coin (I have been trying to get rid of all my coins but it seems to be impossible, my pack is now full of them and the exchange people at the airport are probably going to have me killed) When looking at the prices of things I just round up and think of it as 1,000 won to one dollar. Things are fairly cheap here you can get a full Korean meal for around 5000 or 6000 Won and a bottle of Soju for around 1500 Won. Those prices are for the basic Korean cuisine you can also of course go to a fancy restraunt and pay 300,000 Won for a meal, no thanks.
Soju is liquor that is made from potatoes or rice and tastes like watered down vodka. When it is mixed with any type of fruit juice it is extremely dangerous. Soju used to be made entirely from rice but when the Korean War started the government told the people that they had to stop making it out of rice which they all needed for food so then they started making it out of potatoes. The cheaper versions of Soju are still made from potatoes but you can also get Soju that is made from rice for a little bit more money. The potato soju is about 40 proof and the rice soju is 80 proof. If you ever find yourself in a situation where you are drinking soju, don’t be fooled by the lower proof, it sneaks up on you. There are some other unknown ingredients in there and in some of the cheaper versions there is definably a chemical type after taste. There is also a type of beer here called Malaki that is made of rice. I say beer because it kind of tastes like beer and is carbonated but that is where the comparison ends. It is a while milky color and not as carbonated as beer but has a higher alcohol content then our version of beer.
They have what I would term a drinking culture here in Korea. Public drunkenness is not frowned upon and you will frequently see young and old alike staggering down the streets in various stages of drunkenness. A lot of the drinking establishments here also do not have a specific closing time, they seem to close when the last customer leaves (or whenever they get tired of serving you). You can leave a bar at 4AM walk to the GS25 store (there is one on damn near every corner) and go buy as much booze as you like and sit on a park bench or on a street curb if you feel like it and drink till the sun comes up. But besides the occasional drunkard bobbling down the street there is very little crime in Korea. One cause for this is that there are video cameras everywhere. When I first got here I was in Iraq mode and would scan all the rooftops and look at all the buildings around me and the first thing I noticed was all the cameras. Even on the 30 story buildings of downtown Seoul they had cameras. They also have cameras on almost all of the traffic signal poles; they even have specially equipped police cars with cameras on the roof of the car that can be moved around by the cops inside.
Korean food is pretty basic meaning they do not have a lot of different dishes. There is of course the basic Bee Bim Bob dish which in America is pretty much the same, here in Korea there are a few more options but basically it is the same, a big bowl of rice with a bunch of stuff on top and the red sauce. They also have what they call Galbi which is Korean BBQ; it is not really BBQ like with sauce and what not. Basically you sit on a floor around a table and in the center of the table is a place for a tub of hot coals. They place the coals in, cover it with a metal plate then give you a plate of whatever meat you have ordered and you cook it yourself. There are a bunch of smaller side dishes mostly consisting of fresh vegetables with Kimchi sauce that come also. They do have Chinese, Japanese and other foreign food restraunts here but the difference between those types of restraunts here and the ones back home is that all that foreign food here is still cooked by Koreans so in most cases it is not that good.
One great thing about Korea is they are very energy conscious. You can literally take a bus from Seoul to Buson for about 35,000 won which equals about 28 American Dollars, now keep in mind that Korea is a small country ( about the size of Minnesota ) but even so that is a pretty good deal. All the cars here are of the economical variety and a lot of people ride little scooters or bicycles. A lot of the lights inside buildings are motion detection lights that turn off after a minute or so. They also do way more recycling than America; they have collection points spread out all over. Also instead of just one trash can there will be four in a row for each different type of trash.
As far as the whole North / South thing goes there does not seem to be much interest in re-integration. Most of the partially English speaking Koreans I have met don’t want to re-integrate with North Korea because it would be such a huge economic burden for the south. Also a lot of the families that have been split up by the Korean War have died off. I have been thanked numerous times, by people that find out I am in the Army, for Americas help during the Korean War which is an actual feel good moment. When I came here there was a lot of posturizing between the North and South over the sinking of the South Korean Naval warship. The American news agencies were making it sound as if war in Korea was just around the corner. Not one person mentioned it the whole time I have been here. Let that be a lesson for you about the Fear Factor American news machine.
One thing here in Korea that I think is absolutely brilliant are the Korean showers. Basically in your bathroom instead of having a separate shower stall your bathroom IS the shower stall. So not only can you take a shower but you can clean your bathroom at the same time. When you are done you just squeegee the floor and you are good to go. A couple things to keep in mind though. Make sure to put the toilet paper up and also be sure to put your change of clothes or towel in a semi dry spot. Other than that, simply genius. Another great aspect is you can pee in the shower (at least us boys, might not work as well for the girls) and no I do not mean on the floor. Usually the toilet is situated right across from the shower head, how excellent is that.
One of the reasons I say that three weeks is too long is because pretty much every city in Korea is exactly the same. Without much outside influence they seem to be happy all looking the same. They all have the same style of clothing, the same haircuts (men and women) and when you are walking down the street the same stores. They may have a shopping district or market area that covers 5 square city blocks but on every block you will see the same types of stores. I think you could really get the feel of Korea by visiting Seoul, the DMZ (the de-militarized zone between North and South Korea) and Jeju Island.
For the most part the Korean people are very friendly and courteous but there are defiantly some here that want nothing to do with foreigners. Here in Korea a foreigner is referred to as a way-gook (now I know where the American soldiers from the Korean and Vietnam wars got their Monikers for the enemy soldiers which was gook) and every once in a while you will get called that, usually by an older man or woman. The younger generation seems to be a lot more accepting of foreigners than the older generations seem to be. One thing that I have had a hard time adjusting to here is the staring, every where you go people stare at you. Korea is not really a big tourist attraction, probably because no one knows anything about it. You can go days here without seeing another foreigner, in the bigger cities like Seoul and Daeygo they are more prolific but even then they are few and far between. So when you are walking around town you are defiantly the oddity and people will just blatantly stare at you which after a while can become quite annoying. Of course if you want to see a bunch of Americans you can always go to the Itchewon section of Seoul where you can witness the complete stupidity of our glorious American soldiers that are stationed here, idiotic morons that make Americans look like total retards (I just cant even put into words how annoyed I was when I went to the American GI section of Seoul, don’t get me wrong I have had my “I am in the Army away from home moments” but this was just ridiculous).
The foreign exchange here is not too bad. The Korean dollar is called a Won and at this point in time 1,000 Won equals about .80 U.S. cents. They also have coins which are the 500 won coin and the 100 won coin (I have been trying to get rid of all my coins but it seems to be impossible, my pack is now full of them and the exchange people at the airport are probably going to have me killed) When looking at the prices of things I just round up and think of it as 1,000 won to one dollar. Things are fairly cheap here you can get a full Korean meal for around 5000 or 6000 Won and a bottle of Soju for around 1500 Won. Those prices are for the basic Korean cuisine you can also of course go to a fancy restraunt and pay 300,000 Won for a meal, no thanks.
Soju is liquor that is made from potatoes or rice and tastes like watered down vodka. When it is mixed with any type of fruit juice it is extremely dangerous. Soju used to be made entirely from rice but when the Korean War started the government told the people that they had to stop making it out of rice which they all needed for food so then they started making it out of potatoes. The cheaper versions of Soju are still made from potatoes but you can also get Soju that is made from rice for a little bit more money. The potato soju is about 40 proof and the rice soju is 80 proof. If you ever find yourself in a situation where you are drinking soju, don’t be fooled by the lower proof, it sneaks up on you. There are some other unknown ingredients in there and in some of the cheaper versions there is definably a chemical type after taste. There is also a type of beer here called Malaki that is made of rice. I say beer because it kind of tastes like beer and is carbonated but that is where the comparison ends. It is a while milky color and not as carbonated as beer but has a higher alcohol content then our version of beer.
They have what I would term a drinking culture here in Korea. Public drunkenness is not frowned upon and you will frequently see young and old alike staggering down the streets in various stages of drunkenness. A lot of the drinking establishments here also do not have a specific closing time, they seem to close when the last customer leaves (or whenever they get tired of serving you). You can leave a bar at 4AM walk to the GS25 store (there is one on damn near every corner) and go buy as much booze as you like and sit on a park bench or on a street curb if you feel like it and drink till the sun comes up. But besides the occasional drunkard bobbling down the street there is very little crime in Korea. One cause for this is that there are video cameras everywhere. When I first got here I was in Iraq mode and would scan all the rooftops and look at all the buildings around me and the first thing I noticed was all the cameras. Even on the 30 story buildings of downtown Seoul they had cameras. They also have cameras on almost all of the traffic signal poles; they even have specially equipped police cars with cameras on the roof of the car that can be moved around by the cops inside.
Korean food is pretty basic meaning they do not have a lot of different dishes. There is of course the basic Bee Bim Bob dish which in America is pretty much the same, here in Korea there are a few more options but basically it is the same, a big bowl of rice with a bunch of stuff on top and the red sauce. They also have what they call Galbi which is Korean BBQ; it is not really BBQ like with sauce and what not. Basically you sit on a floor around a table and in the center of the table is a place for a tub of hot coals. They place the coals in, cover it with a metal plate then give you a plate of whatever meat you have ordered and you cook it yourself. There are a bunch of smaller side dishes mostly consisting of fresh vegetables with Kimchi sauce that come also. They do have Chinese, Japanese and other foreign food restraunts here but the difference between those types of restraunts here and the ones back home is that all that foreign food here is still cooked by Koreans so in most cases it is not that good.
One great thing about Korea is they are very energy conscious. You can literally take a bus from Seoul to Buson for about 35,000 won which equals about 28 American Dollars, now keep in mind that Korea is a small country ( about the size of Minnesota ) but even so that is a pretty good deal. All the cars here are of the economical variety and a lot of people ride little scooters or bicycles. A lot of the lights inside buildings are motion detection lights that turn off after a minute or so. They also do way more recycling than America; they have collection points spread out all over. Also instead of just one trash can there will be four in a row for each different type of trash.
As far as the whole North / South thing goes there does not seem to be much interest in re-integration. Most of the partially English speaking Koreans I have met don’t want to re-integrate with North Korea because it would be such a huge economic burden for the south. Also a lot of the families that have been split up by the Korean War have died off. I have been thanked numerous times, by people that find out I am in the Army, for Americas help during the Korean War which is an actual feel good moment. When I came here there was a lot of posturizing between the North and South over the sinking of the South Korean Naval warship. The American news agencies were making it sound as if war in Korea was just around the corner. Not one person mentioned it the whole time I have been here. Let that be a lesson for you about the Fear Factor American news machine.
One thing here in Korea that I think is absolutely brilliant are the Korean showers. Basically in your bathroom instead of having a separate shower stall your bathroom IS the shower stall. So not only can you take a shower but you can clean your bathroom at the same time. When you are done you just squeegee the floor and you are good to go. A couple things to keep in mind though. Make sure to put the toilet paper up and also be sure to put your change of clothes or towel in a semi dry spot. Other than that, simply genius. Another great aspect is you can pee in the shower (at least us boys, might not work as well for the girls) and no I do not mean on the floor. Usually the toilet is situated right across from the shower head, how excellent is that.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Travelings of a moron
Well my Korean vacation really got started on the wrong foot I would say. Mostly due to my own ineptness. Every time I looked at my ticket, I was looking at when my flight left L.A. for Seoul and the date of that flight was on Friday 18 June. Well I was not paying attention and the real deal was that I was leaving Detroit on Thursday but I was thinking for some reason that I was leaving on Friday. Well imagine my joy while sitting at my desk in my boxers looking at my ticket reservation and realizing that my flight out of Detroit was actually leaving 2 and a half hours from that very moment in time. I am eternally grateful that I am somewhat OCD about packing so I had already packed most of my stuff. So then began the mad dash of packing my computer and a few other things and rushing to the airport. My friend Bjorn was home at the time and I enlisted him to give me a ride to the airport (we almost died on the way) and he actually got me there in time (felonious driving). I then pulled the military card, got myself into the fast moving security line, and began my O.J. Simpson run through the airport to my gate. Got to the gate only to find out that the damn plane was an hour late, oh well. When I ran out of the house in a blind panic I only had the very most basic flight information with me and very little of the information that Jody had sent to me about the guest house we would be staying in in Seoul, not good. I would be punished for this later.
We finally load up the plane and I start my slow process to Korea. The service was horrible on this flight, I asked for a blanket three times and it finally got to me 2 hours into the flight. By that time, I was already into the late stages of hypothermia because for some reason it was cold as hell on the plane. Then when they finally gave me the blanket the flight attendant asked me “are you happy now?” I wanted to stab her in the neck with a dull pickle fork. (*Side note : why did Delta buy Northwest? I thought Northwest was the bigger better airline. My flight to L.A. with Delta sucked and if I can avoid it, I will not be using them for travel again anytime in the near future). I think I was also in a foul mood because I was not ready for this trip, you know, thinking that I was supposed to have been leaving the following day and all. To make my trip even more enjoyable there was a man and women on the plane that were not able to control their children whatsoever. I pretty much take it into account that no matter when I fly there is going to be a screaming child on the flight. I have resigned myself to this fact. However, usually the screaming offender is shushed and not encouraged to scream at the top of their bloody lungs for hours on end. For one thing, they had a boy of about seven whom I am convinced had TB as he coughed for the whole flight. I felt bad for the little guy but I wanted to pour hot oil on the fathers head as he sat there and did not try and cover his child’s mouth for the whole coughing fit duration. Then there was the 4-year-old girl who literally screamed at the top of her lungs for 15 minutes at a time with brief 5-minute oxygen breaks in between while the mother just sat there with a goofy smile on her face (there just never seems to be enough bullets). Finally we arrive in L.A. and of course we are an hour late which is cutting into my in between flights smoke break I was planning on taking. Once on the ground they tell me that not only do I have to go to the international terminal but also I have to go there “right now”. Back to running through the damn airport, out the front doors and a quarter mile to the international terminal, son of a…!
Let me just say that the folks at Korean air were very helpful and courteous and I really enjoyed flying with them so basically the exact opposite of Delta. What I did not enjoy was that they told me that they were going to be loading the plane an hour early and that I really needed to start heading towards the gate because the line to get through security was taking about an hour to get through.( *Side note #2, it really annoys me that when you are late for your flight through no fault of your own they do not have a “I am late for my flight through no fault of my own” fast lane to get through security.) And Guess what, no &*%$##$&* smoke break and no using the military ID to get through the fast lane here. By this time I am getting a little cranky because it is midnight my time and I had gotten up early that morning and done a bunch of running around town, why, because I thought I was leaving on Friday, idiot.
I finally got to the gate and quickly realized that I was going to be one of three westerners on a flight of 300. The flight was not bad, I did manage to get some sleep, and I had Korean airline food, which was entertaining. It was a long flight, thirteen hours, but I do have to say having just done that same flight more or less coming back from Iraq that this one was much more enjoyable as a civilian. I arrived in Korea at five a.m. Saturday morning; this too is a huge mistake on my part because I had told Jody that I would be arriving Friday morning at five a.m. I told her that because I am a moron and forgot to add the day to account for flying halfway around the damn world. Now the fun really begins because A: at this time I actually think that it is Friday morning and B: when I left the house I only had time to write down the most basic information that Jody had given me in regards to where we were going to be staying in Seoul. I should probably explain that the airport is actually in a city called Incheon which is an island and about 1 hour away from Seoul. They have a bus line that you can take but after 18 hours of flying and airport time I was not in the mood for a bus ride so I had already decided on the flight over that I would pony up the hundred dollars for the cab ride. As soon as I cleared customs I got the piece of paper on which I had scribbled as much information onto as possible and thought that I was good to go, nope wrong answer do not pass Go do not collect two hundred dollars. One bit of info that Jody had given me was her phone number , good deal right, not if your damn $%^**&*(%&$&$%##!!!!!!!! Expensive ass super cool touch screen internet wireless thing a ma jigger phone doesn’t work in Korea. So cant call Jody, no big deal right, we still have the name of the guest house we are staying at right, wrong wrong wrong wrong. I had the name of the guesthouse but not which guest house because it is a G****** chain, aaarrrrggghhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Did I mention that while I am realizing all of this I have 3 chicken hawk taxi pimps trying to get me into their taxicabs. It was a little much after all my traveling but one good thing about them was that some of them spoke a little bit of English. So besides not being able to call Jody and not having the true address of where I am going I still have one trick up my sleeve, my computer. So I tell the guy that speaks the most English that I need to find someplace with internet and he directs me to a free internet café. Now we are good to go right, NO we are not good to go, laptop battery is dead. Holy mother of all that is unfair in the universe…………! Long story even longer I go to the little store in the airport and buy a plug adapter for the laptop, plug it in and the taxi guy uses his phone camera to take a picture of the info off my laptop screen. So finally things are going my way, get in the cab, smoke damn near a pack on the way to Seoul and arrive at the guesthouse. It is during this ride that I am informed that no it is not Friday morning but instead it is Saturday morning and Jody has been waiting all night for me to arrive. The last thing the taxi driver says to me is “ you are a bad traveler” to which I have no reply because by this time I feel like a total retard.
Welcome to korea!
We finally load up the plane and I start my slow process to Korea. The service was horrible on this flight, I asked for a blanket three times and it finally got to me 2 hours into the flight. By that time, I was already into the late stages of hypothermia because for some reason it was cold as hell on the plane. Then when they finally gave me the blanket the flight attendant asked me “are you happy now?” I wanted to stab her in the neck with a dull pickle fork. (*Side note : why did Delta buy Northwest? I thought Northwest was the bigger better airline. My flight to L.A. with Delta sucked and if I can avoid it, I will not be using them for travel again anytime in the near future). I think I was also in a foul mood because I was not ready for this trip, you know, thinking that I was supposed to have been leaving the following day and all. To make my trip even more enjoyable there was a man and women on the plane that were not able to control their children whatsoever. I pretty much take it into account that no matter when I fly there is going to be a screaming child on the flight. I have resigned myself to this fact. However, usually the screaming offender is shushed and not encouraged to scream at the top of their bloody lungs for hours on end. For one thing, they had a boy of about seven whom I am convinced had TB as he coughed for the whole flight. I felt bad for the little guy but I wanted to pour hot oil on the fathers head as he sat there and did not try and cover his child’s mouth for the whole coughing fit duration. Then there was the 4-year-old girl who literally screamed at the top of her lungs for 15 minutes at a time with brief 5-minute oxygen breaks in between while the mother just sat there with a goofy smile on her face (there just never seems to be enough bullets). Finally we arrive in L.A. and of course we are an hour late which is cutting into my in between flights smoke break I was planning on taking. Once on the ground they tell me that not only do I have to go to the international terminal but also I have to go there “right now”. Back to running through the damn airport, out the front doors and a quarter mile to the international terminal, son of a…!
Let me just say that the folks at Korean air were very helpful and courteous and I really enjoyed flying with them so basically the exact opposite of Delta. What I did not enjoy was that they told me that they were going to be loading the plane an hour early and that I really needed to start heading towards the gate because the line to get through security was taking about an hour to get through.( *Side note #2, it really annoys me that when you are late for your flight through no fault of your own they do not have a “I am late for my flight through no fault of my own” fast lane to get through security.) And Guess what, no &*%$##$&* smoke break and no using the military ID to get through the fast lane here. By this time I am getting a little cranky because it is midnight my time and I had gotten up early that morning and done a bunch of running around town, why, because I thought I was leaving on Friday, idiot.
I finally got to the gate and quickly realized that I was going to be one of three westerners on a flight of 300. The flight was not bad, I did manage to get some sleep, and I had Korean airline food, which was entertaining. It was a long flight, thirteen hours, but I do have to say having just done that same flight more or less coming back from Iraq that this one was much more enjoyable as a civilian. I arrived in Korea at five a.m. Saturday morning; this too is a huge mistake on my part because I had told Jody that I would be arriving Friday morning at five a.m. I told her that because I am a moron and forgot to add the day to account for flying halfway around the damn world. Now the fun really begins because A: at this time I actually think that it is Friday morning and B: when I left the house I only had time to write down the most basic information that Jody had given me in regards to where we were going to be staying in Seoul. I should probably explain that the airport is actually in a city called Incheon which is an island and about 1 hour away from Seoul. They have a bus line that you can take but after 18 hours of flying and airport time I was not in the mood for a bus ride so I had already decided on the flight over that I would pony up the hundred dollars for the cab ride. As soon as I cleared customs I got the piece of paper on which I had scribbled as much information onto as possible and thought that I was good to go, nope wrong answer do not pass Go do not collect two hundred dollars. One bit of info that Jody had given me was her phone number , good deal right, not if your damn $%^**&*(%&$&$%##!!!!!!!! Expensive ass super cool touch screen internet wireless thing a ma jigger phone doesn’t work in Korea. So cant call Jody, no big deal right, we still have the name of the guest house we are staying at right, wrong wrong wrong wrong. I had the name of the guesthouse but not which guest house because it is a G****** chain, aaarrrrggghhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Did I mention that while I am realizing all of this I have 3 chicken hawk taxi pimps trying to get me into their taxicabs. It was a little much after all my traveling but one good thing about them was that some of them spoke a little bit of English. So besides not being able to call Jody and not having the true address of where I am going I still have one trick up my sleeve, my computer. So I tell the guy that speaks the most English that I need to find someplace with internet and he directs me to a free internet café. Now we are good to go right, NO we are not good to go, laptop battery is dead. Holy mother of all that is unfair in the universe…………! Long story even longer I go to the little store in the airport and buy a plug adapter for the laptop, plug it in and the taxi guy uses his phone camera to take a picture of the info off my laptop screen. So finally things are going my way, get in the cab, smoke damn near a pack on the way to Seoul and arrive at the guesthouse. It is during this ride that I am informed that no it is not Friday morning but instead it is Saturday morning and Jody has been waiting all night for me to arrive. The last thing the taxi driver says to me is “ you are a bad traveler” to which I have no reply because by this time I feel like a total retard.
Welcome to korea!
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Mosul
Sitting on a concrete stairway looking out at night at the twinkling lights of Mosul really makes you think. The stairs I am sitting on used to belong to the Iraqi Army and the barracks that I sleep in were also used by them. All the buildings in my area are peppered with shrapnel holes. Some of the metal pole roof supports have holes blown through them. One of the barracks we first stayed in had a very obvious roof patch done recently most likely to repair bomb damage. As a matter of fact almost everything in this country is scarred by signs of war. Whether it is the shrapnel marks in these buildings or the water filled bomb craters sprinkled throughout the area. It is just strange sometimes to think that we occupy all these areas in Iraq. Most of the US bases here are old Iraqi Army bases and airfields. I guess the surreal feeling for me is being so close to it. Here is this large city that I can see from my temporary barracks where people still launch mortars at us. And to know that there are people in that city that would kill me without hesitation is just a strange feeling.
Of course now and days the chances of being killed here are pretty slim as we are not allowed to travel into any of the cities anymore. In a way that is a good thing for the soldiers that are stationed here. But it also creates a certain type of hell. Imagine going to a foreign country and not being allowed to leave your hotel, ever. That would really kind of suck. Personally I am grateful that I was able to go on as many missions as I did. Sure I was nervous and sometimes freaked out but on the other hand I was also able to have many experiences that most others will not. Drinking Chai tea with the local sheik and all the village elders or handing out Ann Arbor skate park shirts to the local kids, heck I even got to ride a donkey with all my gear on. I camped out on top of a mountain and manned a checkpoint in the middle of the desert. I have seen almost all of northern Iraq perched atop a huge steel behemoth. I’ve thrown candy to kids and helped villages get new water wells and electricity. You can’t pay for those types of experiences. A lot of soldiers currently serving over here in Iraq will never leave the base they are assigned to, imagine a whole year stuck on a FOB just waiting for time to pass by. I have only been here for about 11 days and I am already going stir crazy. I would absolutely lose my mind if I had to stay on a FOB for a whole year. And this is not to say “hey lets go out and kill people” although have no doubt there some still in this country that would deserve it. I guess what I am saying is that we have been here too long, if you have 140,000 troops in a country just sitting around on base doing nothing that might be a sign that it is time to go. I mean seriously, and they wonder why the suicide rate is so high these days.
I also reflect on the effect time has on opinions. When I first got here I felt that we were actually helping people and in some ways we have. But on the other hand I think we should have just removed Saddam and been done with it. Unfortunately my idealistic views have disappeared and I feel that whether we are here for 10 more days or 10 more years the result is going to be the same. I am not under the impression that Democracy is going over real well here. I am of the opinion that no matter what we do these folks are going to have a civil war. Who knows maybe it will work out but after a year here and seeing how these people live I just can’t see it. Not to be a negative Nelly, I do hope it all works out in the end.
I still feel that my coming here was a good thing. It certainly has changed my perspective on many things both here and at home.
Of course now and days the chances of being killed here are pretty slim as we are not allowed to travel into any of the cities anymore. In a way that is a good thing for the soldiers that are stationed here. But it also creates a certain type of hell. Imagine going to a foreign country and not being allowed to leave your hotel, ever. That would really kind of suck. Personally I am grateful that I was able to go on as many missions as I did. Sure I was nervous and sometimes freaked out but on the other hand I was also able to have many experiences that most others will not. Drinking Chai tea with the local sheik and all the village elders or handing out Ann Arbor skate park shirts to the local kids, heck I even got to ride a donkey with all my gear on. I camped out on top of a mountain and manned a checkpoint in the middle of the desert. I have seen almost all of northern Iraq perched atop a huge steel behemoth. I’ve thrown candy to kids and helped villages get new water wells and electricity. You can’t pay for those types of experiences. A lot of soldiers currently serving over here in Iraq will never leave the base they are assigned to, imagine a whole year stuck on a FOB just waiting for time to pass by. I have only been here for about 11 days and I am already going stir crazy. I would absolutely lose my mind if I had to stay on a FOB for a whole year. And this is not to say “hey lets go out and kill people” although have no doubt there some still in this country that would deserve it. I guess what I am saying is that we have been here too long, if you have 140,000 troops in a country just sitting around on base doing nothing that might be a sign that it is time to go. I mean seriously, and they wonder why the suicide rate is so high these days.
I also reflect on the effect time has on opinions. When I first got here I felt that we were actually helping people and in some ways we have. But on the other hand I think we should have just removed Saddam and been done with it. Unfortunately my idealistic views have disappeared and I feel that whether we are here for 10 more days or 10 more years the result is going to be the same. I am not under the impression that Democracy is going over real well here. I am of the opinion that no matter what we do these folks are going to have a civil war. Who knows maybe it will work out but after a year here and seeing how these people live I just can’t see it. Not to be a negative Nelly, I do hope it all works out in the end.
I still feel that my coming here was a good thing. It certainly has changed my perspective on many things both here and at home.
Army organazation
I thought I would do a quick explanation on how the Army is organized as I know most folks are confused by it. Currently I am serving in a company. Usually a company consists of 4-5 platoons. So to lay it all out here is how it goes:
A squad = 6-8 Soldiers
A Platoon = 4-5 Squads
A company = 4-5 Platoons
A battalion = 4-6 Companies
A brigade = 3 Battalions
A Division = 3-5 Brigades
Squad members consist of Privates and specialists E-1 through E-4
A squad is lead by an E-5 or E-6 Sergeant
A platoon is lead by an E-7 Sergeant and a 1st or 2nd Lieutenant
A company is lead by a Captain and an E-9 First Sergeant
A battalion is lead by a Lieutenant Colonel and an E-9 Command Sergeant Major
A division is lead by a General & many other officers
Usually when you are in a company you are part of a battalion which has 4-6 companies. The companies are listed by the phonetic alphabet. So in a battalion with 5 companies you would have a Headquarters company then Alpha company, Bravo Company, Charlie Company, Delta Company. To give an example in Michigan we have an infantry battalion called the 125th Infantry Battalion. There are 125th units spread throughout Michigan. There is 125th Headquarters company in Flint, Alpha company out of Detroit, Bravo company in Saginaw, Charlie company in Wyoming and Delta company in Big Rapids. A brigade that consists of 3 Battalions is recognized by numbers. I will use the first unit I served in as an example. On my first enlistment I served with 1/505th Parachute Infantry Battalion. So basically because there are three battalions in a Brigade we had the 1/505th, 2/505th and the 3/505th. So when someone says they are in 2nd squad, 3rd platoon, Charlie company of the 1/505th, 82nd Airborne Division you know what unit they are in.
The company I serve in is considered a special unit because of the type of work we do and because we are pretty self sufficient because we have our own Headquarters and communications platoons integral to our company. Usually those sections are a separate company. The plus side to this is that we are fairly self sufficient, the downside is that we do not have much star power as the highest ranked officer we have is a captain. Usually this is not a problem when we are at home in Michigan. The problem becomes apparent when we deploy as we get assigned to work for someone in theatre. It is usually not a big deal unless you get assigned to work for someone that is horrible to work for which was the situation we found ourselves in here in Iraq when our parent unit changed.
When you come overseas to a war zone you get assigned to a bigger organization. When we first got here we worked for the 6/9 Cavalry. They were pretty cool to work for; they assigned us our battle space (the area in Iraq that we would be responsible to patrol) told us what they wanted us to accomplish then left us alone to do our job. They left for home in December and were replaced by the 3-73 Cavalry, I cannot put into words at this time how much this parent unit has sucked. Stories of these $@###!!!&&^%%% will surely be sprinkled into future blog entry’s.
A squad = 6-8 Soldiers
A Platoon = 4-5 Squads
A company = 4-5 Platoons
A battalion = 4-6 Companies
A brigade = 3 Battalions
A Division = 3-5 Brigades
Squad members consist of Privates and specialists E-1 through E-4
A squad is lead by an E-5 or E-6 Sergeant
A platoon is lead by an E-7 Sergeant and a 1st or 2nd Lieutenant
A company is lead by a Captain and an E-9 First Sergeant
A battalion is lead by a Lieutenant Colonel and an E-9 Command Sergeant Major
A division is lead by a General & many other officers
Usually when you are in a company you are part of a battalion which has 4-6 companies. The companies are listed by the phonetic alphabet. So in a battalion with 5 companies you would have a Headquarters company then Alpha company, Bravo Company, Charlie Company, Delta Company. To give an example in Michigan we have an infantry battalion called the 125th Infantry Battalion. There are 125th units spread throughout Michigan. There is 125th Headquarters company in Flint, Alpha company out of Detroit, Bravo company in Saginaw, Charlie company in Wyoming and Delta company in Big Rapids. A brigade that consists of 3 Battalions is recognized by numbers. I will use the first unit I served in as an example. On my first enlistment I served with 1/505th Parachute Infantry Battalion. So basically because there are three battalions in a Brigade we had the 1/505th, 2/505th and the 3/505th. So when someone says they are in 2nd squad, 3rd platoon, Charlie company of the 1/505th, 82nd Airborne Division you know what unit they are in.
The company I serve in is considered a special unit because of the type of work we do and because we are pretty self sufficient because we have our own Headquarters and communications platoons integral to our company. Usually those sections are a separate company. The plus side to this is that we are fairly self sufficient, the downside is that we do not have much star power as the highest ranked officer we have is a captain. Usually this is not a problem when we are at home in Michigan. The problem becomes apparent when we deploy as we get assigned to work for someone in theatre. It is usually not a big deal unless you get assigned to work for someone that is horrible to work for which was the situation we found ourselves in here in Iraq when our parent unit changed.
When you come overseas to a war zone you get assigned to a bigger organization. When we first got here we worked for the 6/9 Cavalry. They were pretty cool to work for; they assigned us our battle space (the area in Iraq that we would be responsible to patrol) told us what they wanted us to accomplish then left us alone to do our job. They left for home in December and were replaced by the 3-73 Cavalry, I cannot put into words at this time how much this parent unit has sucked. Stories of these $@###!!!&&^%%% will surely be sprinkled into future blog entry’s.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Staying in shape
I used to think I was in shape, I mean round is a shape isn’t it? It is just now towards the end of this deployment that I realize how out of shape I really used to be. The other day I looked at a picture of myself when we were at NTC (National Training Center) in California last March and I could not believe how big I looked. By big I mean round.
I used to get out of breath just wearing my body armor, and by that I mean just wearing it, not even moving. And carrying my .50 cal across the parking lot to my truck would seriously wear me out (it does after all weigh about 80 pounds with both pieces, but still). Now and days I can damn near run with the thing while wearing my body armor and carrying all my other gear as well and I still feel great. It is also nice to be able to go running and actually enjoy it. Don’t get me wrong I am still horrible at running but I used to run like a crippled water buffalo with asthma. Cutting down on smoking has helped a lot with all this. I had actually quit for about 3 weeks but then I fell off the wagon ( I plan on quitting again soon, no really after this pack) hmmmm (or maybe the next one). Smoking and keeping my weight down have been the biggest battles so far. It is actually hard to lose weight here. This is in part because they serve you way too much food at the chow hall and I can’t seem to break the habit of eating every damn thing that they put on my plate. I also go to the gym as often as possible and actually find myself getting annoyed when I can’t go. If you had told me that I would feel this way 2 years ago I would have flicked my cigarette butt at you, poured my drink over your head and then gone back to eating my pizza.
I think my greatest fear right now is that I will get home and fall into all my old patterns and get big again. I plan on getting a membership at the Y when I get home but it will defiantly be a test of willpower to go everyday versus sitting on the couch watching TV and eating pizza. There will of course be some of that as I just plain need a break for a bit. But I think that with my return coinciding with spring / summer it should be pretty easy to get out and about and not spend too much time on the couch. And of course I expect Trevor to hound me about skateboarding which does not seem doesn’t seem like such a bad idea after this experience.
Well that’s all I have to say about that. I would like to urge all my friends that smoke to cut back, even a little, and try and do some cardio every once in a while. It really sucks for the first 4 weeks but man after that it really starts to feel great. I mostly wrote this Blog for myself though so don’t feel as if I am preaching to anyone please. When I find myself sitting on the couch watching too much TV and eating too much pizza I can read this to remind myself to get my fat ass off the couch and go for a run.
I used to get out of breath just wearing my body armor, and by that I mean just wearing it, not even moving. And carrying my .50 cal across the parking lot to my truck would seriously wear me out (it does after all weigh about 80 pounds with both pieces, but still). Now and days I can damn near run with the thing while wearing my body armor and carrying all my other gear as well and I still feel great. It is also nice to be able to go running and actually enjoy it. Don’t get me wrong I am still horrible at running but I used to run like a crippled water buffalo with asthma. Cutting down on smoking has helped a lot with all this. I had actually quit for about 3 weeks but then I fell off the wagon ( I plan on quitting again soon, no really after this pack) hmmmm (or maybe the next one). Smoking and keeping my weight down have been the biggest battles so far. It is actually hard to lose weight here. This is in part because they serve you way too much food at the chow hall and I can’t seem to break the habit of eating every damn thing that they put on my plate. I also go to the gym as often as possible and actually find myself getting annoyed when I can’t go. If you had told me that I would feel this way 2 years ago I would have flicked my cigarette butt at you, poured my drink over your head and then gone back to eating my pizza.
I think my greatest fear right now is that I will get home and fall into all my old patterns and get big again. I plan on getting a membership at the Y when I get home but it will defiantly be a test of willpower to go everyday versus sitting on the couch watching TV and eating pizza. There will of course be some of that as I just plain need a break for a bit. But I think that with my return coinciding with spring / summer it should be pretty easy to get out and about and not spend too much time on the couch. And of course I expect Trevor to hound me about skateboarding which does not seem doesn’t seem like such a bad idea after this experience.
Well that’s all I have to say about that. I would like to urge all my friends that smoke to cut back, even a little, and try and do some cardio every once in a while. It really sucks for the first 4 weeks but man after that it really starts to feel great. I mostly wrote this Blog for myself though so don’t feel as if I am preaching to anyone please. When I find myself sitting on the couch watching too much TV and eating too much pizza I can read this to remind myself to get my fat ass off the couch and go for a run.
Friday, January 29, 2010
In da field / Hurricane Abdullah
I know that on my last blog I said I was going to cover the different ethnicities here and the mechanics of the country but I recently had an experience that I want to put out before I do that. While it was happening it was absolutely miserable but as it is with most bad experiences I have had I can now look back and laugh because some of it was comical.
My section and some others were recently tasked to go out into the middle of no where and pull security for some engineers that were working on a project. The weeks leading up to this adventure were filled with days of gathering materials from cots to tents to burn latrines. Burn latrines are big wooden stall toilets in which you have to burn the waste at the end of the day. I had a lot of experience with them during Desert Storm so imagine my joy when I heard we were bringing them out to the field with us. We started our grand adventure early one Monday morning by meeting up with all the trucks from the engineers and some other elements out in the dust bowl. The dust bowl is a large open area here on base where the larger convoys stage their trucks before rolling out the gate. We were originally tasked as convoy security but ended up doing route security instead. This means that we roll ahead in our trucks about an hour before the main convoy and make sure the road is clear of IED’s and whatnot. Added to our convoy was a bomb sniffing K-9 unit and the base EOD team.
The convoy out went well and we had no problems which was a good thing. It was actually a fairly nice day, the sun was out and it was pretty warm. We arrived at the work site around noon and the Engineers went right to work offloading their equipment. The K-9 unit was deployed to search the area for IED’s or any unexploded ordinance that might be in the area. As soon as the dog got out of the truck we were suddenly surrounded by all the local dogs. This caused quite a scene and at one point I was actually preparing to shoot the dogs which would have sucked but there was a point where we thought that was what we were going to have to do. One of our guys finally diffused the situation by using a slingshot with rocks to shoo the dogs away ( don’t ask why they have slingshots, you don’t want to know, I will save that explanation for when I get home ). By the time the dog had sniffed the whole area and announced the all clear the engineers had unloaded all their gear and went straight to work. I am not sure what unit these guys were from but I do know they are a National Guard unit from Indiana and they do not fool around. They worked 24 hours a day ( except during hurricane Abdullah ) the whole time we were out there.
We were pulling security for the sight so we had a truck parked on each corner of the project area. When pulling security you must have a gunner up in the turret and at least one other person in the truck at all times. About 4 hours into the project the wind started to kick up and an hour after that it was gale force winds with a full compliment of dust to boot. By 6pm the few trees I could see were being blown sideways and we could not see anything beyond 20 feet. We had 5 guys in our truck initially but once we arrived on site one of our guys had to go help commo ( the communications section ) set up the radio station. Around 8pm we get a call on our radio that 3rd platoon would be coming out to our truck to trade it for one of theirs that was broken down. They were working in another portion of our battle space ( the area in which a unit is responsible) and their truck broke down so instead of having to go back to base to get another one they came and stole ours ( bastards). We were currently in an MRAP which was nice and big with a good heater, and what we got from 3rd platoon was a broken down HUMVEE that would not run so we had no heat. This would probably have not been too bad except that shortly after they dropped the truck off and we had moved all our gear over it started to rain. Not any silly little rain either, this was rain in buckets accompanied by the gale force winds and lots of dust. I am actually hard pressed to remember ever seeing a storm like this either here or at home, that is how bad it was, and we were out in it. Let me tell you that standing in the turret of a truck in a full blown storm like that goes beyond any words to describe it. We were truly “in the suck” as they say in the military. Around midnight I had had enough of being in the turret ( about 15 hours of enough) and decided to take my gear and go to the tent that they had set up earlier in the day. The tent was approximately 200 meters from where my truck was parked which is no big deal under normal circumstances. But with that rain and wind and trying to hump my rucksack ( Army backpack, usually filled with way too much stuff ) through the mud it was a difficult task to say the least. By the way, the mud out there was different then the mud on base. Out there it was like pudding and slick as hell, I almost face planted on many occasions.
I finally get to the tent completely exhausted and ready for some serious rack time, so I set out my sleeping bag, lay down and all is good in the world and then I completely pass out.. One hour later I am woken by one of my buddies who affectionately kicks me and yells “get the heck up, the tent is blowing down“. Mind you I have been awake for 30 hours and have only gotten 1 hour of sleep. I lift my head up and look to my left and ………yes, the whole end of the tent is gone and by gone I mean gone ( for my Face book friends there are pictures of this ). This really is no way for a civilized person of my stature to be woken up but this was the situation I found myself in that evening. As I madly scramble up to stuff my sleeping bag back into my ruck and try and account for all my gear the other guys are frantically stuffing gear under a tarp which is where I finally deposited my gear also. Once we got all the gear under the tarp we used some very wet sandbags to hold the ends down. All the guys that had been sleeping in the tent had originally come from the trucks that were pulling security. The Sergeant Major puts out a call for those trucks to take turns pulling up to the tent area to pick up their guys, the first truck in got stuck in the mud so no more trucks coming to the tent. That equates to Jim and one of the Terps (interpreter) having to walk out into the weather to get into a truck. My truck was too far away so I was sent to another one ( which in my humble opinion was farther away than my truck , string of curses). By this time the storm was in full gear and I was really not happy to be going back out into it but since the tent was disintegrating around me I really had no choice. I was totally soaked within 10 meters and the wind was gusting so hard that at times I would have to stop and brace myself against it. It was gusting so bad that when I stopped and braced, the wind would actually push me over the surface of the mud, kind of like wind surfing but different. The Terp and I finally reach the other truck only to find out that they were not expecting us so there was some arguing about what in the hell we were doing there. By this time I was in no mood for anything so I plainly stated I was staying and that was all there was too it. I finally pass out while sitting on someone’s rucksack and get about 4 hours sleep before I am woken and told that they need me back in my original truck ( not really my original truck , more like the broken down piece of junk that 3rd platoon had left us). I get back to my truck and I do not leave it ever again for the following 4 days of our stay out at the sight.
The next day all the trucks rigged ponchos over the top of the turrets, it rained a bit that morning but by the afternoon it had all cleared up. For the ret of our stay we worked 3 hour shifts on the gun and took cat naps in between as you cannot get any real sleep sitting upright in a truck with body armor on. By the second day 3rd platoon was kind enough to drop our MRAP back off to us and take away their HUMVEE, it was really nice to have heat again and I do not think we ever turned it off the rest of our stay.
On the third day my truck got moved to the southern part of the work site and part of our job was to observe the traffic that was using a bypass road because we were doing some work on the main road. The bypass road was really just open desert that the people were driving across to bypass our area which was completely blocked off. The problem was that about halfway down this road was a low spot where a lot of water from the rains had collected and created a big muddy mess. Around noon of that day we noticed that there was a huge traffic jam building up on the bypass road. Basically a couple of large trucks had gotten stuck in the mud and were completely blocking the road. So we had to call up the engineers who sent out a bulldozer to fix the road. Another soldier and I had to dismount and provide security for the bulldozer operator while he worked. So I am standing out there in the mud with all my gear on sweating my ass off as the sun has come out in full force and I have all these Iraqi men surrounding me gastrulating wildly and pointing at their stuck vehicles. I just want to mention that I do not speak the local language, so I basically just stood there with a goofy grin on my face and nodded a lot. The bulldozer finally pulls out all the vehicles and fixes the road but he is only able to make one lane. As soon as he moved the bulldozer, traffic from both sides starts to move forward and before you know it we have a traffic jam. It took about half an hour of cursing and wildly waving arms to get them to cross over one at a time but we finally got our point across and the traffic jam cleared up. The rest of our stay was pretty uneventful, although I will say that 90% of us never tried to sleep in a tent again. Never get out of the boat, words to live by.
And in the end the best part of the whole trip for me was I did not get stuck on poop burning detail.
Sergeant Major to me: Clarkson, you getting any sleep?
Me: Roger that Sergeant major.
Sergeant Major: Your not lying to me are you?
Me: Negative Sergeant Major, I wouldn’t lie to you about that sergeant major.
Sergeant major: You know it is illegal to lie to a Sergeant major about anything.
Me: No comment.
My section and some others were recently tasked to go out into the middle of no where and pull security for some engineers that were working on a project. The weeks leading up to this adventure were filled with days of gathering materials from cots to tents to burn latrines. Burn latrines are big wooden stall toilets in which you have to burn the waste at the end of the day. I had a lot of experience with them during Desert Storm so imagine my joy when I heard we were bringing them out to the field with us. We started our grand adventure early one Monday morning by meeting up with all the trucks from the engineers and some other elements out in the dust bowl. The dust bowl is a large open area here on base where the larger convoys stage their trucks before rolling out the gate. We were originally tasked as convoy security but ended up doing route security instead. This means that we roll ahead in our trucks about an hour before the main convoy and make sure the road is clear of IED’s and whatnot. Added to our convoy was a bomb sniffing K-9 unit and the base EOD team.
The convoy out went well and we had no problems which was a good thing. It was actually a fairly nice day, the sun was out and it was pretty warm. We arrived at the work site around noon and the Engineers went right to work offloading their equipment. The K-9 unit was deployed to search the area for IED’s or any unexploded ordinance that might be in the area. As soon as the dog got out of the truck we were suddenly surrounded by all the local dogs. This caused quite a scene and at one point I was actually preparing to shoot the dogs which would have sucked but there was a point where we thought that was what we were going to have to do. One of our guys finally diffused the situation by using a slingshot with rocks to shoo the dogs away ( don’t ask why they have slingshots, you don’t want to know, I will save that explanation for when I get home ). By the time the dog had sniffed the whole area and announced the all clear the engineers had unloaded all their gear and went straight to work. I am not sure what unit these guys were from but I do know they are a National Guard unit from Indiana and they do not fool around. They worked 24 hours a day ( except during hurricane Abdullah ) the whole time we were out there.
We were pulling security for the sight so we had a truck parked on each corner of the project area. When pulling security you must have a gunner up in the turret and at least one other person in the truck at all times. About 4 hours into the project the wind started to kick up and an hour after that it was gale force winds with a full compliment of dust to boot. By 6pm the few trees I could see were being blown sideways and we could not see anything beyond 20 feet. We had 5 guys in our truck initially but once we arrived on site one of our guys had to go help commo ( the communications section ) set up the radio station. Around 8pm we get a call on our radio that 3rd platoon would be coming out to our truck to trade it for one of theirs that was broken down. They were working in another portion of our battle space ( the area in which a unit is responsible) and their truck broke down so instead of having to go back to base to get another one they came and stole ours ( bastards). We were currently in an MRAP which was nice and big with a good heater, and what we got from 3rd platoon was a broken down HUMVEE that would not run so we had no heat. This would probably have not been too bad except that shortly after they dropped the truck off and we had moved all our gear over it started to rain. Not any silly little rain either, this was rain in buckets accompanied by the gale force winds and lots of dust. I am actually hard pressed to remember ever seeing a storm like this either here or at home, that is how bad it was, and we were out in it. Let me tell you that standing in the turret of a truck in a full blown storm like that goes beyond any words to describe it. We were truly “in the suck” as they say in the military. Around midnight I had had enough of being in the turret ( about 15 hours of enough) and decided to take my gear and go to the tent that they had set up earlier in the day. The tent was approximately 200 meters from where my truck was parked which is no big deal under normal circumstances. But with that rain and wind and trying to hump my rucksack ( Army backpack, usually filled with way too much stuff ) through the mud it was a difficult task to say the least. By the way, the mud out there was different then the mud on base. Out there it was like pudding and slick as hell, I almost face planted on many occasions.
I finally get to the tent completely exhausted and ready for some serious rack time, so I set out my sleeping bag, lay down and all is good in the world and then I completely pass out.. One hour later I am woken by one of my buddies who affectionately kicks me and yells “get the heck up, the tent is blowing down“. Mind you I have been awake for 30 hours and have only gotten 1 hour of sleep. I lift my head up and look to my left and ………yes, the whole end of the tent is gone and by gone I mean gone ( for my Face book friends there are pictures of this ). This really is no way for a civilized person of my stature to be woken up but this was the situation I found myself in that evening. As I madly scramble up to stuff my sleeping bag back into my ruck and try and account for all my gear the other guys are frantically stuffing gear under a tarp which is where I finally deposited my gear also. Once we got all the gear under the tarp we used some very wet sandbags to hold the ends down. All the guys that had been sleeping in the tent had originally come from the trucks that were pulling security. The Sergeant Major puts out a call for those trucks to take turns pulling up to the tent area to pick up their guys, the first truck in got stuck in the mud so no more trucks coming to the tent. That equates to Jim and one of the Terps (interpreter) having to walk out into the weather to get into a truck. My truck was too far away so I was sent to another one ( which in my humble opinion was farther away than my truck , string of curses). By this time the storm was in full gear and I was really not happy to be going back out into it but since the tent was disintegrating around me I really had no choice. I was totally soaked within 10 meters and the wind was gusting so hard that at times I would have to stop and brace myself against it. It was gusting so bad that when I stopped and braced, the wind would actually push me over the surface of the mud, kind of like wind surfing but different. The Terp and I finally reach the other truck only to find out that they were not expecting us so there was some arguing about what in the hell we were doing there. By this time I was in no mood for anything so I plainly stated I was staying and that was all there was too it. I finally pass out while sitting on someone’s rucksack and get about 4 hours sleep before I am woken and told that they need me back in my original truck ( not really my original truck , more like the broken down piece of junk that 3rd platoon had left us). I get back to my truck and I do not leave it ever again for the following 4 days of our stay out at the sight.
The next day all the trucks rigged ponchos over the top of the turrets, it rained a bit that morning but by the afternoon it had all cleared up. For the ret of our stay we worked 3 hour shifts on the gun and took cat naps in between as you cannot get any real sleep sitting upright in a truck with body armor on. By the second day 3rd platoon was kind enough to drop our MRAP back off to us and take away their HUMVEE, it was really nice to have heat again and I do not think we ever turned it off the rest of our stay.
On the third day my truck got moved to the southern part of the work site and part of our job was to observe the traffic that was using a bypass road because we were doing some work on the main road. The bypass road was really just open desert that the people were driving across to bypass our area which was completely blocked off. The problem was that about halfway down this road was a low spot where a lot of water from the rains had collected and created a big muddy mess. Around noon of that day we noticed that there was a huge traffic jam building up on the bypass road. Basically a couple of large trucks had gotten stuck in the mud and were completely blocking the road. So we had to call up the engineers who sent out a bulldozer to fix the road. Another soldier and I had to dismount and provide security for the bulldozer operator while he worked. So I am standing out there in the mud with all my gear on sweating my ass off as the sun has come out in full force and I have all these Iraqi men surrounding me gastrulating wildly and pointing at their stuck vehicles. I just want to mention that I do not speak the local language, so I basically just stood there with a goofy grin on my face and nodded a lot. The bulldozer finally pulls out all the vehicles and fixes the road but he is only able to make one lane. As soon as he moved the bulldozer, traffic from both sides starts to move forward and before you know it we have a traffic jam. It took about half an hour of cursing and wildly waving arms to get them to cross over one at a time but we finally got our point across and the traffic jam cleared up. The rest of our stay was pretty uneventful, although I will say that 90% of us never tried to sleep in a tent again. Never get out of the boat, words to live by.
And in the end the best part of the whole trip for me was I did not get stuck on poop burning detail.
Sergeant Major to me: Clarkson, you getting any sleep?
Me: Roger that Sergeant major.
Sergeant Major: Your not lying to me are you?
Me: Negative Sergeant Major, I wouldn’t lie to you about that sergeant major.
Sergeant major: You know it is illegal to lie to a Sergeant major about anything.
Me: No comment.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Comments
Unfortunatly I had to set my blog settings so that only registered viewers of my blog will be able to post comments. This is due to the fact that some hacker or some such person was posting comments on how to pirate software. So there you have it. I will be posting another blog soon. Just got back from 4 & 1/2 wonderfull days in the desert so I am going to sleep for 14 hours now.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Mud & Rain
Mud, I have had many experiences with different types of mud. From the grey mud at Ft. Bragg that is so slick that it is like grease. That stuff was really nasty and it was not odd for your truck to get stuck in it even if it was only a couple inches deep, that’s how slick it was. Or the nasty red clay mud at Ft. Benning that either wet or dry would eventually cover you and turn your clothes red if you spent any time at all out in the field. Even the clay mud at home which can be measured not only in inches deep but in feet. But nothing I have come across in all my travels comes even close to the mud we get here in Iraq. The mud is so thick and nasty here that it is like concrete. This is the type of mud that sticks to your boots and does not come off. It cakes to the bottom of your boots and as you walk more and more of it cakes on and squishes out from the bottom of your boot. You would think that as it squishes out that it would fall off as new mud was added. That is not the case; instead it just keeps squishing out until it covers your whole boot. The end result is that whenever you walk somewhere you end up with 10 pounds of mud on your feet. And when you finally reach whatever destination that you were headed to you have to find whatever you can to scrape the mud off. At one point they added pea gravel and regular size gravel to some of the really low areas around our bunker to fill holes and low spots. This seemed like a great idea when it was dry around here but turned out to be not so great when you add the mud factor. Now when you walk on those areas not only do you get mud but you also get rocks stuck on the bottom of your boots, very annoying.
Up here in northern Iraq we do not have a lot of sand. Instead the ground consists mostly of dirt and rocks with scattered pockets of moon dust. It is the dirt that makes the horrible concrete mud. The moon dust just turns into a slurry mess when it gets wet. This slurry can sometimes be up to 6 inches deep which a wonderful thing is when you are stumbling home in the dark and you step into a hole of it (string of expletives). The major thing about the mud is that it is everywhere and covers everything. A few of the roads here on base are actually asphalt but for the most part they are dirt. And of course the rest of the base is dirt so when I say the mud is everywhere I do mean everywhere, there is no escaping it. Even when it stops raining the mud persists for several days after words.
Currently we are in the middle of the rainy season here in Iraq. It is much cooler in the days and actually a bit nippy at night. Nothing compared to back home I assure you. The days are usually 50-60 degrees and at night it gets down into the 40’s. Not bad by Michigan standards but when you are used to 120 degrees it is a bit of a temperature change. Not that it is depressing enough being in Iraq but to add days on end of grey cloudy cold days sometimes with a steady downpour it all seems a bit too much. The days that I really enjoy the rain (Not) are the days that it is cold, wet and raining and we have to go out on a mission. There is really nothing quite like standing in a truck with the top half of your body sticking out rolling down the road and getting rained on. If you do not cover every square inch of your face it feels as if hundreds of tiny ice daggers are stabbing you in the face. If you don’t believe me try sticking your head out of your car window next time it rains. If you really do this and tell me that you did it I am going to point at you and laugh, best to just take my word for it, really.
The rain here can be anything from a constant drizzle to a constant downpour that lasts for days at a time. Which at home would not be bad since you would be able to stay inside or if you had to go outside you could just take the car? But over here (except on missions of course) everywhere you go you are walking. And if you are in your CHU and you want to take a shower or you have to go to the bathroom, guess what, you’re going to get wet. This is especially nice when it is 40 degrees and a steady downpour. The CHU’s are metal so you get that nice patter sound when it rains which I always enjoy (the sound of rain on a metal roof not rain) but the problem lies in the fact that all our roofs are flat. I do not think these things were meant for this environment because when it rains the roof usually leaks and to get it fixed you have to walk a mile to the Mayors cell to contact KBR to come fix it which usually takes a few days because everyone’s roof is leaking. The Mayors cell is where the base sergeant major stays and his job is to insure that everything is running smoothly on base and to solve any problems that might arise concerning basic services and housing.
That's it for Mud & Rain , my next group of blogs is going to cover the different ethnicity's and religions here and I will try and explain some what the big picture over here. Until then...............
Up here in northern Iraq we do not have a lot of sand. Instead the ground consists mostly of dirt and rocks with scattered pockets of moon dust. It is the dirt that makes the horrible concrete mud. The moon dust just turns into a slurry mess when it gets wet. This slurry can sometimes be up to 6 inches deep which a wonderful thing is when you are stumbling home in the dark and you step into a hole of it (string of expletives). The major thing about the mud is that it is everywhere and covers everything. A few of the roads here on base are actually asphalt but for the most part they are dirt. And of course the rest of the base is dirt so when I say the mud is everywhere I do mean everywhere, there is no escaping it. Even when it stops raining the mud persists for several days after words.
Currently we are in the middle of the rainy season here in Iraq. It is much cooler in the days and actually a bit nippy at night. Nothing compared to back home I assure you. The days are usually 50-60 degrees and at night it gets down into the 40’s. Not bad by Michigan standards but when you are used to 120 degrees it is a bit of a temperature change. Not that it is depressing enough being in Iraq but to add days on end of grey cloudy cold days sometimes with a steady downpour it all seems a bit too much. The days that I really enjoy the rain (Not) are the days that it is cold, wet and raining and we have to go out on a mission. There is really nothing quite like standing in a truck with the top half of your body sticking out rolling down the road and getting rained on. If you do not cover every square inch of your face it feels as if hundreds of tiny ice daggers are stabbing you in the face. If you don’t believe me try sticking your head out of your car window next time it rains. If you really do this and tell me that you did it I am going to point at you and laugh, best to just take my word for it, really.
The rain here can be anything from a constant drizzle to a constant downpour that lasts for days at a time. Which at home would not be bad since you would be able to stay inside or if you had to go outside you could just take the car? But over here (except on missions of course) everywhere you go you are walking. And if you are in your CHU and you want to take a shower or you have to go to the bathroom, guess what, you’re going to get wet. This is especially nice when it is 40 degrees and a steady downpour. The CHU’s are metal so you get that nice patter sound when it rains which I always enjoy (the sound of rain on a metal roof not rain) but the problem lies in the fact that all our roofs are flat. I do not think these things were meant for this environment because when it rains the roof usually leaks and to get it fixed you have to walk a mile to the Mayors cell to contact KBR to come fix it which usually takes a few days because everyone’s roof is leaking. The Mayors cell is where the base sergeant major stays and his job is to insure that everything is running smoothly on base and to solve any problems that might arise concerning basic services and housing.
That's it for Mud & Rain , my next group of blogs is going to cover the different ethnicity's and religions here and I will try and explain some what the big picture over here. Until then...............
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Here & Home
Here: I have to walk 150 feet to go to the bathroom or take a shower.
Home: Indoor plumbing, sigh.
Here: Soldiers (the good ones at least) have a heightened situational awareness. Meaning they pay attention at all times to what is going on around them while driving or walking.
Home: People don’t seem to pay attention to anything that is going on around them. I found myself thinking several times while at home and observing people that most of them would not survive a day in Iraq. People just seemed to be so self absorbed that they usually have no idea what is happening around them at any given moment.
Here: People actually respect personal space, meaning they do not crowd up on you and actually keep their distance.
Home: You have no personal space. In restraunts, bars even walking down the street people constantly bump into you or lean on you. Or my personal favorite (once again I am lying) people that feel the need to either grab you or stand 2 inches from you or both to have a conversation.
Here: Having to use bottled water to brush my teeth or just too simply drink.
Home: Water from faucets that you can actually drink, what a concept.
Here: Even the youngest soldiers have some idea of the schematics of both Iraq and Afghanistan in relation to the different religions and what is actually going on.
Home: I would have to say from my experience back home that maybe 1 in 10 people actually knew what was going on here in Iraq and in Afghanistan. I was actually amazed at the amount of well educated people that knew absolutely nothing about either one of these countries.
Here: The wars in Iraq and Afghanistan are very real and are topmost on people’s minds.
Home: A lot of people seemed to have forgotten that we are currently embroiled in not just one war but two. I also hate to say it but I actually ran into several people that really just didn’t give a damn about either war and could care less about them one way or the other. I have said this before and I will say it again, most folks are not affected by these wars unless they have a friend or family member fighting in them. Welcome to the “its all about me generation” if it does not affect me I don’t really care. (Disclaimer: I am not saying that all people that do not have friends or family serving feel this way but there are a lot of folks that do).
Here: We have a PX which is the Army’s version of a store, sometimes called a shopette. The one we have here at Sykes is very small and there is not much to buy there.
Home: The sheer amount of stuff that was available to buy in even the smallest store was amazing. The first store I went to when I was home was a gas station on the way home from the airport and I remember just standing in front of the drinks cooler and being amazed at all the different choices.
Here: Darkness, complete and total. It makes for great star gazing but really sucks when you are trying to navigate around the base and keep from breaking your ankles on all the wonderful rocks in the area.
Home: Everything is lit up. From streetlights to businesses to front porch lights. There are not a lot of places that are completely dark. Even out in the country you can see the glow from distant cities.
Here: No real personal freedoms. You can’t just jump in your car or truck and go for a drive.
Home: Being able to wake up at 3am and just get into a car and go to a store was awesome. Or the simple fact of being able to drive down the road and not having to stop at 7 police checkpoints in a 20 mile drive.
Here: You are always around people. No matter where you go on this base there is always someone around.
Home: You can find someplace to just sit and relax and not be around anyone either at your house or out and about.
Here: Our generators have to be fueled and serviced every day at 9am and to do that they have to turn them off. This means that every day when I get home to my CHU I have to reset my clock and my alarm and relog onto the internet (when it is working that is).
Home: Constant power all the time (except when you have a big winter storm, hope you are all enjoying the snow, I do not miss it )
Home: Indoor plumbing, sigh.
Here: Soldiers (the good ones at least) have a heightened situational awareness. Meaning they pay attention at all times to what is going on around them while driving or walking.
Home: People don’t seem to pay attention to anything that is going on around them. I found myself thinking several times while at home and observing people that most of them would not survive a day in Iraq. People just seemed to be so self absorbed that they usually have no idea what is happening around them at any given moment.
Here: People actually respect personal space, meaning they do not crowd up on you and actually keep their distance.
Home: You have no personal space. In restraunts, bars even walking down the street people constantly bump into you or lean on you. Or my personal favorite (once again I am lying) people that feel the need to either grab you or stand 2 inches from you or both to have a conversation.
Here: Having to use bottled water to brush my teeth or just too simply drink.
Home: Water from faucets that you can actually drink, what a concept.
Here: Even the youngest soldiers have some idea of the schematics of both Iraq and Afghanistan in relation to the different religions and what is actually going on.
Home: I would have to say from my experience back home that maybe 1 in 10 people actually knew what was going on here in Iraq and in Afghanistan. I was actually amazed at the amount of well educated people that knew absolutely nothing about either one of these countries.
Here: The wars in Iraq and Afghanistan are very real and are topmost on people’s minds.
Home: A lot of people seemed to have forgotten that we are currently embroiled in not just one war but two. I also hate to say it but I actually ran into several people that really just didn’t give a damn about either war and could care less about them one way or the other. I have said this before and I will say it again, most folks are not affected by these wars unless they have a friend or family member fighting in them. Welcome to the “its all about me generation” if it does not affect me I don’t really care. (Disclaimer: I am not saying that all people that do not have friends or family serving feel this way but there are a lot of folks that do).
Here: We have a PX which is the Army’s version of a store, sometimes called a shopette. The one we have here at Sykes is very small and there is not much to buy there.
Home: The sheer amount of stuff that was available to buy in even the smallest store was amazing. The first store I went to when I was home was a gas station on the way home from the airport and I remember just standing in front of the drinks cooler and being amazed at all the different choices.
Here: Darkness, complete and total. It makes for great star gazing but really sucks when you are trying to navigate around the base and keep from breaking your ankles on all the wonderful rocks in the area.
Home: Everything is lit up. From streetlights to businesses to front porch lights. There are not a lot of places that are completely dark. Even out in the country you can see the glow from distant cities.
Here: No real personal freedoms. You can’t just jump in your car or truck and go for a drive.
Home: Being able to wake up at 3am and just get into a car and go to a store was awesome. Or the simple fact of being able to drive down the road and not having to stop at 7 police checkpoints in a 20 mile drive.
Here: You are always around people. No matter where you go on this base there is always someone around.
Home: You can find someplace to just sit and relax and not be around anyone either at your house or out and about.
Here: Our generators have to be fueled and serviced every day at 9am and to do that they have to turn them off. This means that every day when I get home to my CHU I have to reset my clock and my alarm and relog onto the internet (when it is working that is).
Home: Constant power all the time (except when you have a big winter storm, hope you are all enjoying the snow, I do not miss it )
Home!
Coming home turned out to be a lot weirder for me that I thought it was going to be. The days leading up to my leave seemed to take forever but when the day finally came I had some kind of weird anxiety thing going on. I don’t really know how else to explain it. The first 5 days seemed to go by fairly slowly but after that they just seemed to fly by.
Three things stand out the most to me about my time at home on leave. Number one would be all the different colors. Everything over here is a brown reddish color. Occasionally you will see a house that is pink or purple but other than that it is mostly plain Jane. Green grass, trees with the changing leaves, different colored houses, different colored lights downtown, peoples colorful clothes, total culture shock. I actually went on several walks around town admiring all the different colors.
The number two thing that stood out while I was home was my complete inability to get any decent sleep for the first 5 days back. The realization that I eventually came to was that it was way too quiet. Over here there is always some type of noise whether it is the helicopters at the airfield or the generators that are constantly running. I am sure that jet lag figured in there also. All I know for absolute sure is that in that first 5 day period I only got about 20 hours sleep total. I also seemed to be in military mode for those first few days where I was totally wound up. After a few days I seemed to get used to the idea that I was actually back home. And of course by the time I felt completely at ease and relaxed it was time to go back.
But I have to say the biggest thing that I noticed while I was at home was how much nothing had changed. In this whole period of time where I felt like I had already lived a whole separate lifetime of doing things everyone back home had not done much except exist on a daily basis. I don’t want folks back home to take this the wrong way so let me explain myself. I was extremely elated to see as many people as I did and I thoroughly enjoyed my time at home and hanging with my friends, but at the same time I quickly grew bored and actually looked forward to coming back to Iraq. I think that part of it was the fact that most people had to work during the day so the only time I could hang out with folks was at night. But coming from a situation where I work 7 days a week and then going to a schedule of having nothing to do all day took some adjustment. I also think that with all the experiences I have had in the last 6 months, experiences that most people will never have (probably a good thing), made being home all the much weirder.
Before all my friends start thinking that I hated being home I will add some of the highlights of my trip:
Seeing Heather who was the last friend from the states that I saw before I left and hanging out with her for a night was awesome. Playing with my dog Smokey and sleeping on the couch with him. Pizza. Sleeping in a real bed. Drinking was cool but hangovers were not. Being able to smoke inside was a nice change. Hanging out in Trevors backyard and chatting.Hanging out with Lyn, Vinnie & krystal. Ron & Lisa's guy falkes day party. Hanging out with Jim A.,Stacy,Carly and Rob for Dart night. Seeing all my friends at the Arena and Blind Pig. Dinner at Knights steak house with my mom. Driving where ever I wanted to when ever I wanted to. Complete and total freedom. Real food with actual nutrients that have not been completly processed out of them. Fall colors. Raking leaves ( yes I actually enjoyed doing it ). Being able to choose what clothes I was going to wear.
Another thing about going home was the fact that I was in really good shape before I left. But while I was home, due to my own lack of motivation, I managed to gain about 10 pounds which took about 3 weeks to get rid of. There was also the whole traveling aspect. To put it simply the traveling to and from leave was absolutely horrible. You are literally treated like cattle during the whole process which really just sucks. I also had the austere pleasure of flying out of Detroit on Veteran’s day which was a strange experience to say the very least. A lot of people wanted to shake my hand and thank me for my service which was a good feeling. But on the other hand I was leaving home and not in the highest of spirits and talking to a bunch of strangers over and over again was a little overwhelming. There was one guy in the Atlanta airport that got my spirits back up with his simple statement of “ thank you for serving, go get those bastards for us” which for some reason brought my spirits back up. I am not saying that I do not appreciate the thank you’s I get just that sometimes it get’s to be a bit much.
In the end I would have to say that although I very much enjoyed seeing all my friends and family I almost wish I had never gone home on leave at all. Part of that stems from the fact that I had a sort of groove going over here and time was flying by for me. Then I went home and that groove was disrupted for about 5 weeks. It was hard to get back into things once I returned and time just seemed to crawl by. Of course the Army keeps rolling along and did not care that I was not back in my groove yet. Because 1 day after I returned I had the awesome pleasure of pulling 5 missions in a row. Talk about jumping in with both feet.
Three things stand out the most to me about my time at home on leave. Number one would be all the different colors. Everything over here is a brown reddish color. Occasionally you will see a house that is pink or purple but other than that it is mostly plain Jane. Green grass, trees with the changing leaves, different colored houses, different colored lights downtown, peoples colorful clothes, total culture shock. I actually went on several walks around town admiring all the different colors.
The number two thing that stood out while I was home was my complete inability to get any decent sleep for the first 5 days back. The realization that I eventually came to was that it was way too quiet. Over here there is always some type of noise whether it is the helicopters at the airfield or the generators that are constantly running. I am sure that jet lag figured in there also. All I know for absolute sure is that in that first 5 day period I only got about 20 hours sleep total. I also seemed to be in military mode for those first few days where I was totally wound up. After a few days I seemed to get used to the idea that I was actually back home. And of course by the time I felt completely at ease and relaxed it was time to go back.
But I have to say the biggest thing that I noticed while I was at home was how much nothing had changed. In this whole period of time where I felt like I had already lived a whole separate lifetime of doing things everyone back home had not done much except exist on a daily basis. I don’t want folks back home to take this the wrong way so let me explain myself. I was extremely elated to see as many people as I did and I thoroughly enjoyed my time at home and hanging with my friends, but at the same time I quickly grew bored and actually looked forward to coming back to Iraq. I think that part of it was the fact that most people had to work during the day so the only time I could hang out with folks was at night. But coming from a situation where I work 7 days a week and then going to a schedule of having nothing to do all day took some adjustment. I also think that with all the experiences I have had in the last 6 months, experiences that most people will never have (probably a good thing), made being home all the much weirder.
Before all my friends start thinking that I hated being home I will add some of the highlights of my trip:
Seeing Heather who was the last friend from the states that I saw before I left and hanging out with her for a night was awesome. Playing with my dog Smokey and sleeping on the couch with him. Pizza. Sleeping in a real bed. Drinking was cool but hangovers were not. Being able to smoke inside was a nice change. Hanging out in Trevors backyard and chatting.Hanging out with Lyn, Vinnie & krystal. Ron & Lisa's guy falkes day party. Hanging out with Jim A.,Stacy,Carly and Rob for Dart night. Seeing all my friends at the Arena and Blind Pig. Dinner at Knights steak house with my mom. Driving where ever I wanted to when ever I wanted to. Complete and total freedom. Real food with actual nutrients that have not been completly processed out of them. Fall colors. Raking leaves ( yes I actually enjoyed doing it ). Being able to choose what clothes I was going to wear.
Another thing about going home was the fact that I was in really good shape before I left. But while I was home, due to my own lack of motivation, I managed to gain about 10 pounds which took about 3 weeks to get rid of. There was also the whole traveling aspect. To put it simply the traveling to and from leave was absolutely horrible. You are literally treated like cattle during the whole process which really just sucks. I also had the austere pleasure of flying out of Detroit on Veteran’s day which was a strange experience to say the very least. A lot of people wanted to shake my hand and thank me for my service which was a good feeling. But on the other hand I was leaving home and not in the highest of spirits and talking to a bunch of strangers over and over again was a little overwhelming. There was one guy in the Atlanta airport that got my spirits back up with his simple statement of “ thank you for serving, go get those bastards for us” which for some reason brought my spirits back up. I am not saying that I do not appreciate the thank you’s I get just that sometimes it get’s to be a bit much.
In the end I would have to say that although I very much enjoyed seeing all my friends and family I almost wish I had never gone home on leave at all. Part of that stems from the fact that I had a sort of groove going over here and time was flying by for me. Then I went home and that groove was disrupted for about 5 weeks. It was hard to get back into things once I returned and time just seemed to crawl by. Of course the Army keeps rolling along and did not care that I was not back in my groove yet. Because 1 day after I returned I had the awesome pleasure of pulling 5 missions in a row. Talk about jumping in with both feet.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Out of Afric…. Um I mean Iraq
And here I thought getting into Iraq was difficult. We left Sykes at 2230 on Friday the 23rd and arrived at Detroit metro at 1230 Monday the 26th.We left Sykes in a C-130 much to the chagrin of all involved. Our problems began with a lightning storm above Balad which grounded our plane. Then due to Air Force rules we were not allowed to leave the plane and were stuck on the plane for over an hour waiting for the storm to abate. Once we got into the terminal we were told that we would be leaving in a couple of hours but that turned out not to be the case, go figure. Every 3 hours we would line up for roll call only to be told that they did not have another flight out for us. What happened to the original plane we flew in on I never found out. We ended up stuck in Balad for 11 hours; in case you were wondering the concrete floor there is not very comfortable for sleeping. Finally the next day they got a flight for us, a C-17 thank all the gods in the universe, and off we went to our next destination, Baghdad (oh Joy). We land in Baghdad and have to deplane again and spend 5 hours at that terminal. After spending 5 hours of trying to discern what the disembodied voice on the large speaker system is saying we hear that our plane is once again ready to take to the skies. So once again we grab all our gear and trudge out to the flight line and out to our plane for hopefully the last leg of our journey to wonderful Kuwait which as you all know is my most favorite place in the whole world (heavy sarcasm). In the end it took over 20 hours to travel what should have taken 3 hours, ah the joys of military travel. By the time we got to Kuwait all the scheduled flights out were gone so we had to stay the night there which worked out great for me as I had no sleeping gear with me.
The next day consisted of briefings, briefings and more briefings. My travel companions and I did discover a bit of valuable information, volunteer for the baggage detail. When flying in country all the flights are military cargo planes but once you leave Kuwait it is a chartered civilian aircraft. The deal is they need people at the Kuwait airport to load all the baggage into the belly of the plane. This occurs while all the rest of the people going on leave board the plane and get situated. The end result is you load the plane last and get to sit in first class all the way back to the States. I can not put into words how awesome that was. The people in the back of the plane were absolutely packed in like sardines and looked extremely uncomfortable. I on the other hand had plenty of leg room and the seat next to me remained empty for the whole trip to Germany and then to Atlanta, there was much rejoicing. After all the briefings we were taken to a very large warehouse where we had to deposit all our body armor and Kevlar helmets. For some reason the Army insists that you fly with body armor and helmets, like that would save you in a crash, NOT. Once we dumped the gear we then headed off to Navy customs, apparently they frown on bringing explosives and that sort of stuff back to the states, I can’t imagine why. After shuffling through all the various customs stations and getting cleared we were unceremoniously dumped into the lockdown area. This is a fenced in area that you cannot leave and are basically trapped inside until your flight leaves. We were only in there for about an hour before the call came down that the buses were there to take us to the Kuwait National airport. An hour and a half later we were at the airport and my buddies and I were loading baggage while the rest of the folks crammed into their seats.
Even in first class the flight home was absolutely grueling, I cannot imagine how lame it must have been riding in the back of the plane. The first leg of the flight took us somewhere in Germany. I say somewhere because by the time we got there I was so tired that I had no idea what was going on or where I really was. We were there for about 3 hours, none of which I can really remember. The only thing that I remember about Germany was that they had some really cool Jaegermeister shirts that I wanted to buy for my friends at home but I had absolutely no room to put them, bummer. The flight from Kuwait to Germany was only about 5 hours, the flight from Germany to Atlanta was 11 hours of pure and wondrous joy, I am lying. For some reason our flight took us way north, all the way to the tip of Greenland then across the ocean some more then through the top of Canada then south to Atlanta. I know this because they had one of those annoying graphic displays that show you on a map where your plane is going. I say annoying because I had to sit there and watch as the graphic of my plane flew directly over Detroit then continued on its merry way to Atlanta (Head spins around on neck, pea soup ejects from mouth). As our plane flew over Detroit I told the stewardess that I would gladly pull a DB Cooper and parachute into Detroit. Apparently she did not understand the reference and just looked at me strangely while she gave me my coke; they must not know who DB Cooper is in Germany.
We finally arrive in Atlanta around 0700 on Monday morning which I am going to say in the mildest terms was a complete shock to the system. Basically in a three day period we went from a totally barren world only to arrive into a bustling American airport full of business commuters and random travelers. It was a great feeling to be back on American soil but I felt a little bit like a stranger in a strange land. As soon as we got off the plane we were ushered into an open area where they had several temporary airline service counters. Basically you would go to which ever airline you were scheduled to fly on next and they would do what they could to get you the first available flight to your home of record (where you live). I was originally scheduled to leave Atlanta at 1400 and arrive in Detroit about 1530 but they were able to get me a seat on the 1230 flight for sure. They also put me as a standby for the 0800 and 1000 flight. Turns out the 0800 flight was absolutely booked but one of my fellow travelers and I were able to get onto the 1000 flight which we were both very grateful for. We almost missed out on the whole deal as we had waited to get onto the 0800 flight with no luck so we assumed the same would be true for the 1000 flight. We just happened to be walking past that particular gate on our way to the coffee shop when they called out our names as having seats on the 1000 flight. My buddy waited in the stand by line as I ran the OJ Simpson mile through the airport to grab our carry on baggage from the other gate. Usually when I travel in uniform I feel like a fish in a fish bowl, you tend to stand out. But when you are wearing a uniform and sprinting through the airport you garner much more attention, I did not really care because by this stage I was absolutely ready to be done traveling and just get home. Just as I get back to the gate they announce that they have seats open so my buddy and I do a quick victory dance and proceed to board the aircraft. Shortly thereafter we touch down safely at Detroit metro to begin our 15 days of leave. More on that in another post.
The military is not much of a timely organization but they are good at getting large groups of people to different areas, eventually.
The next day consisted of briefings, briefings and more briefings. My travel companions and I did discover a bit of valuable information, volunteer for the baggage detail. When flying in country all the flights are military cargo planes but once you leave Kuwait it is a chartered civilian aircraft. The deal is they need people at the Kuwait airport to load all the baggage into the belly of the plane. This occurs while all the rest of the people going on leave board the plane and get situated. The end result is you load the plane last and get to sit in first class all the way back to the States. I can not put into words how awesome that was. The people in the back of the plane were absolutely packed in like sardines and looked extremely uncomfortable. I on the other hand had plenty of leg room and the seat next to me remained empty for the whole trip to Germany and then to Atlanta, there was much rejoicing. After all the briefings we were taken to a very large warehouse where we had to deposit all our body armor and Kevlar helmets. For some reason the Army insists that you fly with body armor and helmets, like that would save you in a crash, NOT. Once we dumped the gear we then headed off to Navy customs, apparently they frown on bringing explosives and that sort of stuff back to the states, I can’t imagine why. After shuffling through all the various customs stations and getting cleared we were unceremoniously dumped into the lockdown area. This is a fenced in area that you cannot leave and are basically trapped inside until your flight leaves. We were only in there for about an hour before the call came down that the buses were there to take us to the Kuwait National airport. An hour and a half later we were at the airport and my buddies and I were loading baggage while the rest of the folks crammed into their seats.
Even in first class the flight home was absolutely grueling, I cannot imagine how lame it must have been riding in the back of the plane. The first leg of the flight took us somewhere in Germany. I say somewhere because by the time we got there I was so tired that I had no idea what was going on or where I really was. We were there for about 3 hours, none of which I can really remember. The only thing that I remember about Germany was that they had some really cool Jaegermeister shirts that I wanted to buy for my friends at home but I had absolutely no room to put them, bummer. The flight from Kuwait to Germany was only about 5 hours, the flight from Germany to Atlanta was 11 hours of pure and wondrous joy, I am lying. For some reason our flight took us way north, all the way to the tip of Greenland then across the ocean some more then through the top of Canada then south to Atlanta. I know this because they had one of those annoying graphic displays that show you on a map where your plane is going. I say annoying because I had to sit there and watch as the graphic of my plane flew directly over Detroit then continued on its merry way to Atlanta (Head spins around on neck, pea soup ejects from mouth). As our plane flew over Detroit I told the stewardess that I would gladly pull a DB Cooper and parachute into Detroit. Apparently she did not understand the reference and just looked at me strangely while she gave me my coke; they must not know who DB Cooper is in Germany.
We finally arrive in Atlanta around 0700 on Monday morning which I am going to say in the mildest terms was a complete shock to the system. Basically in a three day period we went from a totally barren world only to arrive into a bustling American airport full of business commuters and random travelers. It was a great feeling to be back on American soil but I felt a little bit like a stranger in a strange land. As soon as we got off the plane we were ushered into an open area where they had several temporary airline service counters. Basically you would go to which ever airline you were scheduled to fly on next and they would do what they could to get you the first available flight to your home of record (where you live). I was originally scheduled to leave Atlanta at 1400 and arrive in Detroit about 1530 but they were able to get me a seat on the 1230 flight for sure. They also put me as a standby for the 0800 and 1000 flight. Turns out the 0800 flight was absolutely booked but one of my fellow travelers and I were able to get onto the 1000 flight which we were both very grateful for. We almost missed out on the whole deal as we had waited to get onto the 0800 flight with no luck so we assumed the same would be true for the 1000 flight. We just happened to be walking past that particular gate on our way to the coffee shop when they called out our names as having seats on the 1000 flight. My buddy waited in the stand by line as I ran the OJ Simpson mile through the airport to grab our carry on baggage from the other gate. Usually when I travel in uniform I feel like a fish in a fish bowl, you tend to stand out. But when you are wearing a uniform and sprinting through the airport you garner much more attention, I did not really care because by this stage I was absolutely ready to be done traveling and just get home. Just as I get back to the gate they announce that they have seats open so my buddy and I do a quick victory dance and proceed to board the aircraft. Shortly thereafter we touch down safely at Detroit metro to begin our 15 days of leave. More on that in another post.
The military is not much of a timely organization but they are good at getting large groups of people to different areas, eventually.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Why I do it.
A friend of mine recently asked me why I do it, and why did I volunteer to go to Iraq. I usually answer with an off the cuff remark or just say that the economy in Michigan sucks so bad that I am just doing it for the money. But there are many reasons why I do it so here are a few of them.
I don’t want to be a fly on the wall, I want to actively participate in something that is bigger than my self, even if I do not totally agree with the initial motivations for the wars ( well at least one of them ). I do it for all the soldiers that have come before me and come home wounded or worse yet did not make it home at all. I do it in the hopes that none of my nephews, cousins, godchildren, friend’s children or for that matter any ones children have to go serve in these wars 15 or 20 years from now. I do it for money, I won’t lie. I do it for college money and for retirement money. I do it because besides all the unfairness in the world and even in our country I love America and am grateful to be a citizen of America. I do it because I enjoy being in the military and I missed being part of it even though there are some days I hate it. I do it because I actually feel as if I am making a difference in some people’s lives even though I do not personally know them. I do it because the very presence of U.S. soldiers in some parts of Iraq saves the lives of thousands of people that I feel deserve to be saved. I do it for the other soldiers standing there next to me. I do it because I want to see with my own eyes what is actually going on in the world and I do not want to rely on the horrible news coverage that our so called journalists report on. I do it because besides my sometimes negativity I still believe that I can help make a positive impact in the world. I do it so that all the people I know have a constant reminder that there are people still serving overseas and putting their lives in danger for them. I do it because I hate bullies and that is what I think most insurgents are and I honestly do not have a problem with the idea of completely eradicating them from this earth. I do it because I am deep down an adrenaline junkie and some where along my life I have lost all sense of excitement and I wanted it back. I do it because I have hit some kind of crossroad in my life and was not exactly sure which road to take. I do it because I feel it is making me a better person both mentally and physically.
And last but not least I do it for you, my friends and family, so that maybe even if just a little bit I can make you feel safer knowing that my fellow soldiers and I have your back.
And yes, my service here in Iraq on this current tour has changed the way I look at and feel about things to a certain extent.
I don’t want to be a fly on the wall, I want to actively participate in something that is bigger than my self, even if I do not totally agree with the initial motivations for the wars ( well at least one of them ). I do it for all the soldiers that have come before me and come home wounded or worse yet did not make it home at all. I do it in the hopes that none of my nephews, cousins, godchildren, friend’s children or for that matter any ones children have to go serve in these wars 15 or 20 years from now. I do it for money, I won’t lie. I do it for college money and for retirement money. I do it because besides all the unfairness in the world and even in our country I love America and am grateful to be a citizen of America. I do it because I enjoy being in the military and I missed being part of it even though there are some days I hate it. I do it because I actually feel as if I am making a difference in some people’s lives even though I do not personally know them. I do it because the very presence of U.S. soldiers in some parts of Iraq saves the lives of thousands of people that I feel deserve to be saved. I do it for the other soldiers standing there next to me. I do it because I want to see with my own eyes what is actually going on in the world and I do not want to rely on the horrible news coverage that our so called journalists report on. I do it because besides my sometimes negativity I still believe that I can help make a positive impact in the world. I do it so that all the people I know have a constant reminder that there are people still serving overseas and putting their lives in danger for them. I do it because I hate bullies and that is what I think most insurgents are and I honestly do not have a problem with the idea of completely eradicating them from this earth. I do it because I am deep down an adrenaline junkie and some where along my life I have lost all sense of excitement and I wanted it back. I do it because I have hit some kind of crossroad in my life and was not exactly sure which road to take. I do it because I feel it is making me a better person both mentally and physically.
And last but not least I do it for you, my friends and family, so that maybe even if just a little bit I can make you feel safer knowing that my fellow soldiers and I have your back.
And yes, my service here in Iraq on this current tour has changed the way I look at and feel about things to a certain extent.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Questions?
If anyone has any questions about what it is like being in Iraq or what is going on here please feel free to send me an e-mail and I would be happy to answer it or put up a blog about it.
FOB life
My knees hurt, actually every old injury from former car crashes, motorcycle accidents, skateboard falls and bar fights I have ever been in seems to have come back in the last month or so. My knees hurt the most though. At first I thought it was because I have been doing so much running after not having done it in a while but my new theory is they hurt because I live on a rock planet. I am either walking on rocks all day or on cement, I miss grass. We have regular sized rocks that we walk on all around our CHU’s then we have the large surface of the moon rocks spread sporadically throughout the base. We also have patches of pea stone and the ever present moon dust which is so fine it is like talcum powder. My personal favorites are the moon rocks and the moon dust. The moon rocks are about as big as my fist and when you walk on them your legs get a real stability work out, I blame them for my knees hurting. The moon dust is pretty much everywhere although sometimes you find small pockets of it where it is 5 to 6 inches deep. You usually find those spots by accidentally walking into them and not really realizing it until you have a face full of dirt. The moon dust is also what the dust storms mostly comprises of . There is an actually difference between a dust storm and a sand storm. Dust storms can literally be hundreds of feet high and can envelop whole cities and close down all air traffic for a region.. Sand storms on the other hand are usually only about 30 feet high and tend to blow through pretty quick. For the most part we have only really had dust storms here so far.
Constant noise is another fact of life here. All of our electrical power is provided by huge generators which run 24 hours a day 7 days a week. They actually just replaced the ones over by our CHU’s to much quieter ones but you can still hear them. As a matter of fact the whole base’s electricity comes from generators so no matter where you go you can hear them running. By far the loudest thing here is the helicopters, we live on an old Iraqi airfield and the cavalry guys have a squadron of helicopters here that are also on a 24 hour rotation so no matter what time of day it is there is always a helicopter either taking off, flying overhead or just running on the runway.
There is no light here. In Kuwait the whole base was illuminated by portable gas powered spotlights. The spotlights were everywhere and they were set up much like streetlights back home so visibility was not an issue. But here there are no spotlights, some of the CHU’s have outside lights and the chow hall/ gym area is lit up but other than that there is no artificial light. This is a good thing I suppose since we are technically out in the middle of no where in a foreign country where ,yes, people still want to kill us. But it makes for a difficult walk when the moon is obscured by a dust storm or lately clouds or just does not seem to be out at all. I think it is on these night time strolls to the gym or chow hall that my knees are getting really banged up because you are essentially walking blind on rocks.
One of the more nerve racking elements here on the FoB, at least when we first got here, has been the local E.O.D. ( Explosive Ordinance Disposal ) unit here on base. Periodically throughout the month they blow stuff up out on one of their compounds which is about a quarter mile away from our CHU’s. I specifically remember one Sunday morning when we were all sitting around the CHU drinking coffee and working on our computers when all of a sudden there was a very large explosion followed by our CHU shaking on its foundations. Needless to say there was a little bit of running around outside with my rifle wondering what the hell was going on. Another time I was sitting outside my CHU drinking coffee ( there is a pattern here ) when I saw illumination flares being shot into the sky which looked like they were coming from the perimeter fence. Turns out that both times it was just E.O.D. getting rid of out dated munitions. But like I said , just a little bit nerve racking.
I would be remiss if I did not mention KBR ( Kellogg, Brown & Root ) in my FoB life blog. This company is heavily entrenched in the war on terror, that seems to me to be the most politically correct way to put it. Don’t get me wrong I really do not mind not having to do K.P. or my own laundry. But on the other hand I see how much money they are making both in Iraq and in Afghanistan and it kind of bothers me , war profiteering comes to mind. Basically every service you can imagine is run by KBR. Everything from the chow hall, gym, MWR ( Morale Welfare Recreation ) truck wash rack, plumbers, electricians, carpenters, truck drivers, laundry, grounds maintenance and vehicle maintenance are provided by KBR. They also supply all the CHU’s we live in and all the NTV’s ( non-tactical vehicles ) that we use on base at a rather large cost. It used to be that all those services would be provided by military personal, so when I hear the Army say that they have plenty of troops and that recruitment is up it makes me think that they are flubbing the numbers because they are not providing these services themselves any more. There are actually MOS’s ( military occupational skill ) that cover all of those services but the Army has replaced those military jobs with civilians. On the one hand it is nice because to be honest having to serve in Iraq and do my regular duties plus having to do KP and all the other banalities of military life would be a little bit oppressing. But on the other hand it annoys me that the government is spending so much money on these private contractors. A large part of the problem for me is the fact that there is no accountability. Recently in the news was a story about a Special Forces soldier that was electrocuted and killed in a shower trailer that was provided by KBR. Well it turns out that he was the 21st soldier to die by electrocution from poorly grounded equipment that KBR supplied. The family sued KBR and lost because there was not enough documentation to prove that it was KBR’s fault which to me translates to shoved under the carpet. But because they are civilian contractors they are not held to the same standard that their military counterparts are so they seem to get away with things that in the military would not fly.
That’s all I have to say about that ( said in my best Forrest Gump voice ) …………..
Constant noise is another fact of life here. All of our electrical power is provided by huge generators which run 24 hours a day 7 days a week. They actually just replaced the ones over by our CHU’s to much quieter ones but you can still hear them. As a matter of fact the whole base’s electricity comes from generators so no matter where you go you can hear them running. By far the loudest thing here is the helicopters, we live on an old Iraqi airfield and the cavalry guys have a squadron of helicopters here that are also on a 24 hour rotation so no matter what time of day it is there is always a helicopter either taking off, flying overhead or just running on the runway.
There is no light here. In Kuwait the whole base was illuminated by portable gas powered spotlights. The spotlights were everywhere and they were set up much like streetlights back home so visibility was not an issue. But here there are no spotlights, some of the CHU’s have outside lights and the chow hall/ gym area is lit up but other than that there is no artificial light. This is a good thing I suppose since we are technically out in the middle of no where in a foreign country where ,yes, people still want to kill us. But it makes for a difficult walk when the moon is obscured by a dust storm or lately clouds or just does not seem to be out at all. I think it is on these night time strolls to the gym or chow hall that my knees are getting really banged up because you are essentially walking blind on rocks.
One of the more nerve racking elements here on the FoB, at least when we first got here, has been the local E.O.D. ( Explosive Ordinance Disposal ) unit here on base. Periodically throughout the month they blow stuff up out on one of their compounds which is about a quarter mile away from our CHU’s. I specifically remember one Sunday morning when we were all sitting around the CHU drinking coffee and working on our computers when all of a sudden there was a very large explosion followed by our CHU shaking on its foundations. Needless to say there was a little bit of running around outside with my rifle wondering what the hell was going on. Another time I was sitting outside my CHU drinking coffee ( there is a pattern here ) when I saw illumination flares being shot into the sky which looked like they were coming from the perimeter fence. Turns out that both times it was just E.O.D. getting rid of out dated munitions. But like I said , just a little bit nerve racking.
I would be remiss if I did not mention KBR ( Kellogg, Brown & Root ) in my FoB life blog. This company is heavily entrenched in the war on terror, that seems to me to be the most politically correct way to put it. Don’t get me wrong I really do not mind not having to do K.P. or my own laundry. But on the other hand I see how much money they are making both in Iraq and in Afghanistan and it kind of bothers me , war profiteering comes to mind. Basically every service you can imagine is run by KBR. Everything from the chow hall, gym, MWR ( Morale Welfare Recreation ) truck wash rack, plumbers, electricians, carpenters, truck drivers, laundry, grounds maintenance and vehicle maintenance are provided by KBR. They also supply all the CHU’s we live in and all the NTV’s ( non-tactical vehicles ) that we use on base at a rather large cost. It used to be that all those services would be provided by military personal, so when I hear the Army say that they have plenty of troops and that recruitment is up it makes me think that they are flubbing the numbers because they are not providing these services themselves any more. There are actually MOS’s ( military occupational skill ) that cover all of those services but the Army has replaced those military jobs with civilians. On the one hand it is nice because to be honest having to serve in Iraq and do my regular duties plus having to do KP and all the other banalities of military life would be a little bit oppressing. But on the other hand it annoys me that the government is spending so much money on these private contractors. A large part of the problem for me is the fact that there is no accountability. Recently in the news was a story about a Special Forces soldier that was electrocuted and killed in a shower trailer that was provided by KBR. Well it turns out that he was the 21st soldier to die by electrocution from poorly grounded equipment that KBR supplied. The family sued KBR and lost because there was not enough documentation to prove that it was KBR’s fault which to me translates to shoved under the carpet. But because they are civilian contractors they are not held to the same standard that their military counterparts are so they seem to get away with things that in the military would not fly.
That’s all I have to say about that ( said in my best Forrest Gump voice ) …………..
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Don’t mess with the wild life……..
I saw a bee today. It was the first bee I have seen since I have been here. I have seen my share of flies and ants though. The one insect here that has proven to be a huge pain, literally, is the sand flea also known as the no see um. I am not sure if they are actually from the flea family as they fly but they definatly attack like fleas. Usually when you get bitten you don’t notice it until they are gone. The bites itch like hell and I am pretty sure that I may have permanent scaring on my legs from some of the bites I have gotten. The scaring is from itching the bites too much, this was before I had my mom send me every type of anti itch medicine there is. They actually take a chunk out when they bite you, it can be very irritating. Sometimes they get into your clothing and you get multiple bites in one area. Some of the spots that are bad are areas like around your boots and belt. For a while my roommates and I were getting chewed up in our CHU until we discovered that if you cranked your AC up to the maximum it would make them dormant or at least that is the theory.
There are also a lot of ants here. There are your garden variety black ants and then there are these weird looking indestructible ants that have really long legs kind of like a spider. The long legged ants are impossible to kill I have proven this by stepping on one nine times to include grinding my foot on one to no avail.
I have only seen one camel spider so far and it was a little tiny one. I don’t feel bad about this as I remember seeing one in ‘91 and they are nasty so I am fine with not seeing any more. I heard that one of the sergeants found a black scorpion in one of the latrines at the bunker but that is unconfirmed. We did find a dead scorpion which proved to be loads of fun in the form of scaring the crap out of people but that’s about it.
Surprisingly I have only seen two camels so far. I have been told that they are not such a big commodity to have here up north and that most of the camel herders are farther south. I have seen one horse so far and someone was actually riding it so that was cool. Most of the animals up here consist of herd animals such as sheep and goats which seem to be the majority with a few scraggly cows sprinkled in for good measure.
They have a lot of dogs here also. They don’t keep them as pets and rather treat them as a nuisance. The kids throw rocks at them, which pisses me off. It makes me want to throw rocks at the kids but we are not allowed to interfere. I did see two dogs humping in night vision and some donkeys going at it so that was entertaining , when you are in Iraq it is the small things.
And that brings me to another form of wildlife that the Army includes in its policy of not messing with the wild life, the local kids. As soon as we roll into a town or village the kids start coming in swarms and surround our vehicles. One day it was so bad that I felt as if I was in some kind of zombie movie with dozens of kids running towards our vehicles from all points of the compass. The end result was approximately 150 kids surrounding our trucks. We thought this was cool at first but after having several missions under our belts it has become a huge pain in the ass. It is a hard thing to deal with on several points. On one hand you want to help them by giving them food and water to help them out. But on the other hand you realize that no matter how much you give out it is never enough. The problem arises when you do start handing stuff out which causes an immediate riot. One of the major problems is that all the bigger kids beat the crap out of the little kids and take every thing that you have just given them from them. On our last mission we handed out some tooth brushes and tooth paste and I saw no less them five actually fist fights in a five minute period. One of our Sergeants explained it best. When you start handing stuff out they are grateful but then it starts fights and people get hurt which creates resentment which is the exact opposite of what we are trying to accomplish here.
I would say in some of the outlying villages we visit that those kids really do need help with food and water. But when we go to some of the bigger towns most of the people seem to be doing fairly well. One day I sat and watched as a group of kids begged some guys from another company for some water then when they got it they ran to another truck and tried to sell the water to those guys, crazy business. Not all the kids want you to give them stuff. Sometimes you get large packs of kids that want to sell you stuff, anything from cigarettes to sandwiches. I even had a kid offer me some whiskey in one town we visited, I passed on the offer as you never know what the hell they might actually give you. Same goes for the food, part of me would like to try the local cuisine but a bigger part of me does not want to end up on the toilet for three days if you know what I mean. One thing that the beggars and the sellers all have in common is an unbelievably annoying persistence. They will just sit and stare at you for long periods of time. I am not sure if this is a tactic they have developed by being exposed to American soldiers or where they got it from. But I have watched as they try and beg or sell something and get rebuffed then just stand there and stare until the object of their attention caves in. It is actually against Brigade ( the larger Army unit we fall under ) policy to give or buy anything from the kids but people do it anyways and that is part of the problem. There is also the problem of having all these little kids around these huge trucks that have really bad blind spots when trying to drive away. Or in some cases just driving in the town as they like to run alongside the trucks and dart in front of them.
The behavior is also vastly different depending on what type of village you are in. If you are in a Kurd or Izidi (sp?) village where we are fairly well liked it is still a swarm but they are not as rude. But if you are in a Sunni Arab village where we are not as popular they literally rip stuff out of your hands and try and go into your pockets and steal what they can. Another difference that we noticed has been that in the Kurd and Izidi villages the kids are boys and girls but in the Arab villages it is just boys.
Now I don’t want to come off as the big bad American that hates little Iraqi children, it is not like that at all. Rest assured we are doing some great things for the people here and are trying to help them as much as we can. Cant go into the details so you will just have to trust me on this one.
During the writing of this blog post I suffered through no less then 4 sand flea bites.
There are also a lot of ants here. There are your garden variety black ants and then there are these weird looking indestructible ants that have really long legs kind of like a spider. The long legged ants are impossible to kill I have proven this by stepping on one nine times to include grinding my foot on one to no avail.
I have only seen one camel spider so far and it was a little tiny one. I don’t feel bad about this as I remember seeing one in ‘91 and they are nasty so I am fine with not seeing any more. I heard that one of the sergeants found a black scorpion in one of the latrines at the bunker but that is unconfirmed. We did find a dead scorpion which proved to be loads of fun in the form of scaring the crap out of people but that’s about it.
Surprisingly I have only seen two camels so far. I have been told that they are not such a big commodity to have here up north and that most of the camel herders are farther south. I have seen one horse so far and someone was actually riding it so that was cool. Most of the animals up here consist of herd animals such as sheep and goats which seem to be the majority with a few scraggly cows sprinkled in for good measure.
They have a lot of dogs here also. They don’t keep them as pets and rather treat them as a nuisance. The kids throw rocks at them, which pisses me off. It makes me want to throw rocks at the kids but we are not allowed to interfere. I did see two dogs humping in night vision and some donkeys going at it so that was entertaining , when you are in Iraq it is the small things.
And that brings me to another form of wildlife that the Army includes in its policy of not messing with the wild life, the local kids. As soon as we roll into a town or village the kids start coming in swarms and surround our vehicles. One day it was so bad that I felt as if I was in some kind of zombie movie with dozens of kids running towards our vehicles from all points of the compass. The end result was approximately 150 kids surrounding our trucks. We thought this was cool at first but after having several missions under our belts it has become a huge pain in the ass. It is a hard thing to deal with on several points. On one hand you want to help them by giving them food and water to help them out. But on the other hand you realize that no matter how much you give out it is never enough. The problem arises when you do start handing stuff out which causes an immediate riot. One of the major problems is that all the bigger kids beat the crap out of the little kids and take every thing that you have just given them from them. On our last mission we handed out some tooth brushes and tooth paste and I saw no less them five actually fist fights in a five minute period. One of our Sergeants explained it best. When you start handing stuff out they are grateful but then it starts fights and people get hurt which creates resentment which is the exact opposite of what we are trying to accomplish here.
I would say in some of the outlying villages we visit that those kids really do need help with food and water. But when we go to some of the bigger towns most of the people seem to be doing fairly well. One day I sat and watched as a group of kids begged some guys from another company for some water then when they got it they ran to another truck and tried to sell the water to those guys, crazy business. Not all the kids want you to give them stuff. Sometimes you get large packs of kids that want to sell you stuff, anything from cigarettes to sandwiches. I even had a kid offer me some whiskey in one town we visited, I passed on the offer as you never know what the hell they might actually give you. Same goes for the food, part of me would like to try the local cuisine but a bigger part of me does not want to end up on the toilet for three days if you know what I mean. One thing that the beggars and the sellers all have in common is an unbelievably annoying persistence. They will just sit and stare at you for long periods of time. I am not sure if this is a tactic they have developed by being exposed to American soldiers or where they got it from. But I have watched as they try and beg or sell something and get rebuffed then just stand there and stare until the object of their attention caves in. It is actually against Brigade ( the larger Army unit we fall under ) policy to give or buy anything from the kids but people do it anyways and that is part of the problem. There is also the problem of having all these little kids around these huge trucks that have really bad blind spots when trying to drive away. Or in some cases just driving in the town as they like to run alongside the trucks and dart in front of them.
The behavior is also vastly different depending on what type of village you are in. If you are in a Kurd or Izidi (sp?) village where we are fairly well liked it is still a swarm but they are not as rude. But if you are in a Sunni Arab village where we are not as popular they literally rip stuff out of your hands and try and go into your pockets and steal what they can. Another difference that we noticed has been that in the Kurd and Izidi villages the kids are boys and girls but in the Arab villages it is just boys.
Now I don’t want to come off as the big bad American that hates little Iraqi children, it is not like that at all. Rest assured we are doing some great things for the people here and are trying to help them as much as we can. Cant go into the details so you will just have to trust me on this one.
During the writing of this blog post I suffered through no less then 4 sand flea bites.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
My opinion
Several people have asked me my opinion on a subject recently and I thought I would put a post up about it. The question is in relation to the recent release of some photo by the associated press showing a young Marine dying in Afghanistan. The main question being what do I think about it. My answer is this,would any of you or anyone in my family want to see a picture of me as I lay dying somewhere. I don't think so or I certainly would hope not. Now do I think that the military and the government have been avoiding pictures like this to help sort of sanitize the war for the people back home. I would have to say yes. But I think there are other ways to show the human side of these wars other than posting pictures of U.S. soldiers wounded or dying. I for one believe there should be more coverage of Dover Air Force Base when the flag draped coffins come home, or asking the families of the fallen if they can be present for the soldiers funerals. Personally I think it was irresponsible of them to post that picture especially in the light of the fact that the family asked them not too. Imagine being the family or friends of Nick Berg whose head was cut off, while he was still alive, early in the war in Iraq and knowing that there was a video of it up on the web for anyone to see. I just think there has to be a better way to show the sacrifices these folks make besides posting their deaths in a picture or video for all to see. That's just my 2 cents.
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