Sleepless

Last night I did not sleep at all. Not for any reason that can be understood easily. I was so tired that I could not keep my eyes open but when they closed it was like a kalidescope of things that I needed to do floating around and around. I completely rebuilt my carport at home in my head. I wrote memo's to handle all things that have gone wrong since being here. I remarried my Loving Wife again. So on and so on. The swirling would not stop. Sometime around 3 am I seemed to drift but only for a moment coming back to thoughts of what do I need to teach my Supply Clerk so she can handle my job while I am away. And of course the cycle started all over again. In my tired state I did not remember to set my clock as everyday on generator power the clock looses about 45 minutes. So my day started off wrong. Today however was a good day as my friend and I who oddly enough was born on the same day as I only 8 years later put together a BBQ and cooked steaks. We said Happy Birthday to each other as the day prior he did not have the time to slow down enough to even think of his birthday. You know it seems in life that just when you think you have it bad your are reminded in a subtle way that someone out there has it worse.

The Kids

You know kids say what they feel and they write it too. I have had the pleasure of recieving about 30 letters from kids in the school district from home. Most ask questions like is the food good or is it dusty or do you sleep outside. But one kid made a statement that will remain with me until this adventure is over. He said in closing his letter "I hope you make it back". This young man out of all the letters I received said something that was more memorable than any of the others. We all hope we make it back. It is so amazing that our kids today can think up and say things that will ever be set in our memories. God willing we will all make it back

Birthday

Today was my birthday. As my wife put 36 years ago God made something special for her. Today started off in a terrible way. It seems that a couple of E-8 who do not comunicate with each other very well got into a heated discussion over some decisions made to better take care of our soldiers. Of course shit rolls down hill so I was on the recieving end of lots of it. Tired worn out and pissed off I went to chow and talked with some friends. They were trying to get me to play dominos with them as I had done for the last 3 Fridays in a row. I did not want to go I just wanted to sit back and think about the dumb stuff that had happened earlier in the day. After some twisting of my arm I decided to go after-all these are my true friends here. Upon arrival we played several hands of dominos and I got up from the table and when I returned someone said "let's do it now". From around the corner the Lt brought a cake with happy birthday SSG B on it.(Biggerstaff would not fit) It was a wonderful suprise that not only did they remember but they called another Camp and asked the cooks there to prepare a cake for me. The cake was delicious. IT is incredible that when you seem to be down the most and family is not around that your friends no your True Friends come to the rescue. This was not my best birthday by far but it is one that I will not soon forget.

Leave me alone

Feelings of sadness from within they build. It is like it starts with the heart and then consumes the whole body. I cannot seem to shake it off. The building feelings of worry about the upcoming trip home combined with the fear of someone else handling my job while I am gone. No matter how hard I try to get things perfect prior to my departure I always remember something that I have neglected to teach. Will I be the same person I was when I left? When I get home will I feel like a stranger visiting “someone elses home”. The feeling of terror mounts. The WALL could this be it? Could this be what I have talked about and heard about for years. I want so much to go home but also have a fear of being there. It will be okay I tell myself but I do not know if it will or if I will. The burning sensation in the pit of my stomach has been building as I count down the days till I return home. I do not usually count days as it seems to make them slow down. A helpless feeling has taken over. I want to go home yet the fear almost makes wish not to return.

YUCK

All soldiers come from different backgrounds and walks of life. The other day I had to clean out a soldiers room. The soldier went home on leave and hurt his back and did not return. This soldier was obviously from a different walk of life that I will never travel. His room was a pig pen. Dirty cloths everywhere trash on the floor on the bed and even in his footlocker. I told his squad leader that he is partially to blame. The young soldiers who are married and away from home seem to have the hardest time. The simple tasks like doing laundry are hard for them. First Mom did their laundry and then their wife. Now they find themselves standing in front of the washer trying to make out the “Greek” writing on the knob. Cleanliness can and has to be forced upon some of these soldiers. I was completely disgusted with emptying his room.

BOOM

BOOM!!!!! What the hell was that? We all venture outside to see what was going on. I made it to the top of the steps when boom and then the sound of something flying through the air. It has begun again. A long night. The sound of the rocket cutting through the air really cuts deep. I heard it launch cut through the air and then impact. I am so thankful that they do not know how to aim these things. They get so close but so far we have been untouched. How long will they miss? We loaded up in the HUMMV and drove to check on our troops. My roommate is a 26 year old medic. He was born on the same day as I was only several years later than I. He is good at what he does. The day of the VBED right outside the wall he went out. He rendered aid to one of the soldiers in the vehicle that was destroyed by the VBED. We checked on the troops and then drove some of the perimeter. “there is a hole in the wall on the Victory” the voice on the radio reported to higher. Will this hole enabled them to get in? Would they come in and risk the chance of fight us face to face instead of trying to deal death from afar? It seems that the cowardess of these people is growing. Most are not willing to die for their cause.

Supply Run

Today I had to go on another supply run. The place we go to pick up supplies is under constant mortar fire. They cannot seem to locate those responsible for these attacks. One girl recounted of a recent mortar attack saying that one landed right beside her and broke into pieces. It did not go off or she would have gone home possible in a flag draped box. I really don’t like these days but it must be done at a minimum of three times a week. This is where all of the troubles always surface it seems. After dropping off the requests and picking up supplies we got back in the truck and tried to start it up but off course it did not start. We have been having some troubles with it for a while. Being a former mechanic I know that the main thing one must have is cables. We hooked up the cables and flagged down the nearest Hummv for help. It of course started right up. We hauled butt out of there just like we have done for some 4 months now. It is important as a leader not to send my troops into a place that I would not go so I make it a point to ride along at a minimum of twice a week.

This time Next Year

Next year at this time where will I be. There are talks about big moves back in the states. Last year we said “Next year we will be in Iraq dreaming of a cold beer and home”. We laughed and said that it was not true. Now in my 5 month in country I begin to wonder about what life will have in store if I do make it back. With all of the different things going on in life for me I wonder, What does my future hold in store for me? When I was young I wanted to be a writer but gave up on it after high school. I just did not know where to start or if college was required. I wish I would have stayed in college and finished. I could be a writer for a newspaper or just successful. I know that the job that we do here is important but how is success measured. It is measure by the amount of money that you have in the bank or the number of possessions that you have. To me success is measured by the number of people who love you and the number of friends made during your lifetime. I guess that by my own definition I am successful. I have a wife who tells me that she misses me on a daily basis. A son who said “I don’t know what I would do if my dad does not come home”, and a younger son who cries for me on occasion thinking that I will not come home. My brother and sister send emails frequently to check on me. My parents for the first time that I can remember told me that they love me and are proud of me. This is success. Faith Hope and Love the greatest is Love. As I ponder the future the present and the past I can really say that I am successful maybe not with possessions maybe not with money but I do have a bunch of people back home who really love me.

Depth of a Man

The depth of a man is measured by what?
The depth of a man is measured by what? If a shallow man is in charge of an intelligent man which one will prevail? Today I feel like someone just ran over my dog. As the pressure mounts more and more things seem to appear in my lap with a deadline of right now. As I think of the upcoming leave the pressure becomes really unstable. For the first time in a long while I feel as if I am away from home and that these strangers are not really my family. It seems that when you know what is going on and what is supposed to go on they give you so many tasks to do that even the simple stuff cannot be done correctly. Now in the midst of all of this work they have talked about taking yet another one of my soldiers away. Ever have one of those days when you want to throw your hands up in the air and say Screw it (not what I was thinking ). I have had a month like that today. I just don’t know where to start and where it will end. Leave, oh the wonders of home. The food the family I cannot wait. I wish I could go and stay there because I know that when it is time to leave I will fall into a depression that will only be lifted by “the end of this deployment”. When asked what I will do when I get home after this deployment, my answer is “I think I would really look good in those little blue postal shorts.” Truth be told I am scared to think of the future and seem to dwell in the present, never looking much more than two days ahead. The uncertainties in life are clear as I begin to feel again like that high school senior that I was some 17 years ago now. What does the future hold for me?

Life-time Realization

Lifetime Realization
Getting married entirely too young I found myself madly in love but wanting to be a kid too. I was 18 when I met the most awesome girl. She was beautiful. The day we met I was working at Wal-mart and attending college in Odessa. I was outside of the store when her and a mutual friend entered the store. I had decided earlier in my life that I was not meant to have a beautiful girlfriend or wife and that I would have to settle for what I was given. I held the door open for her as she entered and said “Hello”. I may have thought that beautiful girls were not for me but I was not afraid to talk to them. Within the next couple of days the mutual friend had a party at her house and we were both invited. As a friend and I walked up to the party I remember seeing a 1972 Dodge Challenger in the parking lot. I remember telling my friend that I would give anything to drive a car like that. As we entered the party I saw her again. This time she had a glow about her. I checked my glasses to make sure that they were not dirty. They were not and the glow would not go away. Her eyes, her smile, her hair, and her shape, everything about her was perfect. Later on she was sitting on the back of the couch, which was close to the kitchen table where they were playing games. I approached and asked,“Is this seat taken”. There was just enough room beside her for me to sit down. I remember her perfume. It was like a gust of spring on a hot summer day. “Man she smells good’, I thought. We sat and laughed and talked and then a guy came and asked me to move. I did because again I thought that I was not meant to have a woman as perfect as she was. After awhile someone started causing problems and the party started to break up. I was sitting on the couch waiting for my friend to come back when I saw her out of the corner of my eye. I turned and we made eye contact. She waved me over. I was unsure if she was waving to me so I quickly checked over my shoulder. No one else in the room she must mean me I thought. I got up and went to her and she asked if I wanted to go for a ride. I said “Sure”. Momma did not raise no fool. As we walked down the stairs and through the parking lot she asked me if I wanted to drive. I said, “Sure, which car is yours.” The blue one she said. Yes you guessed it. It was the Challenger. I think a God, who I had not spoken to most of my young life, put this night together. My family and I did attend church but it was a forced to deal and I never really paid attention or under-stood. I started the car and turned on the headlights. Playing right in front of the car was a west Texas jackrabbit. I pointed it out to her. We drove around and talked for a while and really hit it off. When we returned and I turned into the parking space we saw two rabbits. Back then I thought of this as just neat but now I think it was an early sign of future things. This was the most awesome night of my life. We have been married for some 15 years and I still look upon her as beautiful and she still has the beautiful eyes, hair and shape. I still have the scrap of paper she wrote her phone number on and still know the number by heart. These things can cause a soldier so far away from home to either be really depressed or really happy. I, myself can say that I have something special to go home to and cannot wait until that day comes.

Censored

Censored
Today I had a meeting with a man who I have nothing but respect for. I was told that my last article Silence should not be sent to my home town newspaper. I listened to the reasoning attentively and nodded a few time here and there but I do not understand. People are dieing over here and that is what I wrote. I wrote the feelings I had when I found out that death was so close that day. I do not understand and really do not feel much like writing anymore. He recommended posting my writings on a Bloger or something to that affect. What I have written is from the heart and I guess that is not acceptable in certain settings. If it is a recruiting thing that we are trying not to ruin then enlistment would be a lie. Soldiers die and have been dieing nearly everyday for some two or three years since the beginning of this conflict. I am confused. I want to write about everything that goes on but want to share with the people I know not so much the people I do not. Feelings can’t be censored but who is allowed to hear or read about them obviously can be. Not intended to offend intended to express feelings and nothing more.

Silence

Silence
The roar of the mess hall was halted by the sound of a loud boom. Was it another controlled detonation? Everyone continued eating shortly after. This is the way it has been around here, a large blast means dramatic pause and then business as usual we cannot dwell on the fact that it could have been some horrific. This time it was. As I got on my bike and road up Main Street I saw it a plume of smoke rising high over the place that I have called home for so many days now. As I road closer my speed increased thinking that it looked as if it had hit my home. The closer I got I realized that it was outside the wall. Thank God I remember thinking. Upon arrival I talked to the guys who had not gone to chow. They said that the whole building shook and things fell off the shelves. It blew the door open breaking the door stricker plate. The helicopters were flying overhead and are still there as I write this. A friend returned from the tower overlooking the nightmare and told of what he had seen. It was a VBED (vehicle with an explosive device mounted on it). These have become the chosen way for the terrorists to strike terror. It worked, in my case anyway. This attack from what I am told took no lives but caused many injuries and totaled out one hummv. The Med Evac chopper was called in and landed to take away the most serious casualties. My roommate showed up just minutes before and made a mad dash for his Blackhawk aid bad and then was gone in the blink of an eye. As I stood and watched from my vantage point I could see only smoke and helicopters but could here the small arms fire. When my friend returned he informed me that the small arms fire that we had heard was that of the rounds cooking off in the Hummv. The hummv did not catch fire until all occupants were out. Thank God. I can only hope that the injuries were not severe. I will try to find out what the extent of the injuries because my brothers were out there. We have come to be a total force. Whether they are Texans or soldiers from Louisiana we are all brothers. I hope that the LA soldiers did not loose another one of their own. There is some question as to which the soldiers belonged to. Some say it was soldiers from the 10th Mountain, out of New York, I believe. One fact that came in a little bit later is that two soldiers were killed and several more were injured. I guess the initial report that all got out of the Hummv prior to it catching fire were untrue. Oh my God what a terrible day it has started out to be. I wonder if when they got up this morning if they felt that things were a little off center or abnormal. I wonder if they had families back in the states who would be devastated by this tragedy. I wonder what if anything could have been done to avoid this. Take them Home Lord to your place. “No greater love hath a man than to lay down his life for his fellow man.”

Whirl-Wind Tour

2 days 3 countries the whirl-wind tour
The mission was fly to Tallil pick up uneeded equipment and handle any property book issues possible. First step the Airport. The regular soldier departure terminal was just now beginning to dry out from the three-day rain we have several days earlier in the week. We were mixed in with the dignitaries in their terminal. Amidst all of the passengers I ran into a friend who had retired from the unit several years back. He came over to work as a civilian and make big money doing it. After we visited for a while we were sent to the waiting tent. Amidst all of the passengers in the tent I noted an NCO lying on a cot reading a book. It seemed normal until he got up. He was a soldier in full uniform wearing handcuffs. What possible crime could this soldier have committed to be paraded around in his uniform with handcuffs on? Maybe this was one of the soldiers involved in a stabbing at the MWR show earlier in the week. Did the stress and environment some how make him snap and do something he would come to regret for the rest of his life? Will we have soldiers in our unit who snap and follow the same path? Only time will tell.
The Plane. An Iraqi owned C-130. What were we thinking giving them a plane? What if they decide to use it as a weapon against us or if a madman takes over again? These planes were given to the Iraqis by the US just a few months back. Now the US pilots are tasked to train the Iraqis how to fly. Our crew consisted of 3 Iraqis and 4 US servicemen. The American pilots come from all over but several were from our very own Dyess AFB. Small world I remember thinking to myself after finding this out. We were assured that the Iraqis are being well trained and can handle it but some of my fears are multiplied by knowing that these people cannot fly. I don’t think they got a plane off the ground, during the first stages of the war. As we waiting we finally found out why we had to wait so long. A US senator (Oregon) was flying out and he takes priority over the working people of the country. I am not sure what they come here for but they keep coming. I am sure it is not for votes because the elections are over. The training flight begins. Oh my God we are going to die I remember thinking. Is this a roller coaster or an airplane? First up and then way way down. Then something I have never experienced, a fish tail. I did not think this was possible but I was wrong and starting to turn green at the gills. At times it was hard to lift my head. I think as soldiers we are owed the decency of knowing what we are getting into before we get on the plane. After this flight from hell I am certain that Iraqis are not meant to fly. With all property book issues handled and equipment gathered up we had time to take a tourist trip. The Birthplace of Abraham. This was awesome. We went here while in Tallil. Finally after all these years I believe. I believe the Bible. Being a new Christian away from my church and my family I begin to feel myself fade from my religion as well as my faith. Today it hit home. I stood at the Birthplace of Abraham. I marveled at this place that had stood the tests of time. God has a plan for me in life. It was his plan for me to stand where I stood today and feel what I felt. This feeling evolved into a discussion of religion without people who I would have never thought had a shred of God in their hearts. I even talked to one who was not involved in our conversation. Four soldiers in full battle gear with weapons and loads of AMMO standing where Abraham was born so many years ago.
After our little tour was over it was time to check into our flight home. We were told that one was leaving this evening but it is not going directly to Baghdad. After checking to see if it was a training flight, it wasn’t, we scheduled. This flight would prove to be a disaster. The Air Force sergeant at the terminal told us that this flight would go to Kuwait and then we should arrive in Baghdad around 1:30. This would have been great however things changed. 2 hours late we touched down in Kuwait. The pilots then informed us that they were short of time. After much deliberation it was decided that the trip back to Baghdad was cancelled and we would not make it to Baghdad tonight. The choice is stay in Kuwait and wait for a flight or fly to Qatar and try from there. We were told that we would have a better shot from Qatar. So myself my buddy and 7 new friends all decided to make the flight to Qatar. It was 4 am when we arrived. We were unsure where we were or what next. We checked in and found out that the next flight to Baghdad was not until 8 o’clock in the evening. What are we going to do? By now all I want to do is sleep. Just lay down on the floor on the ground anywhere and sleep. We found out that if we left the airport we could get a temporary trailer to stay in until our flight time. We all decided that this would be the thing to do. We then found out that no weapons are allowed outside of the airport in Qatar. We walked up to a table to turn in our weapons and AMMO and I remember feeling like a gangster going to a rap concert. I had bullets in 5 pockets and two weapons to check in. I am sure glad they did not ask for my knives cause I was carrying two of those too. Finally around 6 o’clock we had our rooms and went to eat. Chow hall was nice and the food well it is still all the same. After we ate we laid down for some much needed rest. Head hit the pillow and out went the lights. I awoke only 2 and half hours later. Completely rested and ready for the day. I finally got a shower and relaxed a bit. I walked the camp but there was really not much to see. I returned to the room and managed another 2 hour nap. Then it was time to get to the terminal and wait on the flight. For some reason you have to be there three hours before the flight is scheduled to land. This makes no sense. They say that it is incase the flight arrives early. I have not been on an early military flight yet, but I guess there is always a first time. The plane ride home was about 2 hours and 45 minutes. It was really uneventful with the exception of some air turbulence here and there. When we started our descent it was a quick drop. I remember counting the number of times my ears popped on our way down.12 The water bottle I had emptied and put in my pocket was sucked flat by the drop from the sky. Finally we landed. While waiting on the plane for a forklift to remove all baggage a young lady from the terminal came out and was talking to the loadmaster. They were talking about were we were shot at. Apparently somewhere over Baghdad something had been fired at the plane. We did not know anything about this until the landing. What if we would have been hit? That would have been it. I have faith in the pilots and the machinery now but not when it has been hit by some kind of missile or what have you. Thinking it through the only rational thing I could come up with is that it was just not my time.

Church

Church
The melody of the hymn was broken by the clatter of a tank rolling by outside the window. Combat Church this feels so strange. As the speaker gave his message two helicopters flew low overhead. I cannot get over it this is a church in a combat zone. At any moment a mortar could hit this church but I seem to disappear from the existence I have come to know over the last few months. It is as if I am back home in my church in Merkel sitting with my family rejoicing. The tanks and helicopters making me return ever so briefly from the place my heart does truly long to be. Life away is hard but my life itself has never been better. I am able to see from a far what people can see everyday. I have a truly wonderful family, wife and kids who love their husband/father. I have a wonderful church family whose support is wonderful and for the first time in life I can say that I actually have true friends. I would like to thank all who supported My Family while we went through some trying times.

Vise

Vise
What was I thinking? The only vise that I really hung on to was nicotine. I really enjoyed a big fat pinch of snuff between my check and gum. So what would posses a soldier so far from home without family and good food to quit. Just to lay it down and not have another one. Now I feel terrible and know that if I have one I will begin again like I never quit. I am not a very good quitter I have quit several times before. I hope that this is the last time I quit…

Fears Gone

Fear’s gone
We have been here now for going on three months. The fear of new is gone and forgotten. As I read back over these pages I have written I laugh and I cry. The emotion written on these pages brought back to life just add eyes. I remember all of the fears and all of the uncertainties and wonder. Life will never be the same but it really is not all that different. I am finally able to see the clear bright eyes of some of our soldiers who drank way too much at Fort Hood. You see how soldiers react to the distance and how differently they think between here and home. Most of us have adapted to the change without ever hitting the wall. I know in the early stages of this deployment you hardly saw a bowed head in the chow hall giving thanks for the food. Now it is ever apparent that some soldiers have once again turned to God for help with whatever ales them. I remember in basic training that all soldiers found God, not really but this was a place that the Drill Sgt could not mess with you. So everyone went to church. I see it differently now. These young soldiers are praying and talking with God. I think back on my life and wonder if I had known God a little sooner in my life where would I be now? Fear is gone. Living each day like it is the day before we leave and loving my wife more and more as our separation passes. Family, the reason I wake up in the morning Family and Country the reason I do the job that I do. God a new guide in my life through him all things are possible.

Manic Monday

Manic Monday
Everyday is Monday. It is like the ground hog sees his Monday shadow everyday. Everyday is the same just like the last. Nothing changes here. The chow is the same the same the same. I just wish for Taco Bell or Taco Bueno or heck even Mc Donald’s. They have a Burger King on the other side but it is always so crowded that I have not eaten there yet. I came here with some money in my pocket and still have some of the same money in my pocket. There is just nothing. I work till late because nothing matters. It is just life. I know we have it good. I have been to the other side of the camp. Those guys have it rougher than we do by far. They live in tents in a dusty nasty place. The bathrooms are separate so if you need to shower or what have you, you have to walk. I thank God that we are where we are but wish we were somewhere else. I am here for a reason whether it is understood or not. I know that I exist for a reason and the only thing I can say is that I exist. I exist so others in this country can exist. Existence is a strange thing. Why are we here? Death comes to all whether it is quick and meaningless or slow and painful. It is just a fact of life. For the first time however I can say that I existed for a reason and God only knows if my existence will be longer or shorter than I hope. This comes on Monday the eve of Monday and the day before Monday and you guessed it yesterday was Monday too.

Real Mission

Real Mission
As I sit here in total comfort I cannot help but have a sense of sorrow for some of my fellow soldiers. These soldiers have been tasked to do other missions. They sleep where they can and always have to watch their backs. These soldiers have a real mission. We too have a mission but it just seems so minor in comparison. In some ways I wish that I were there with them. The desires to leave the confines of the wall have become ever apparent in my day-to-day life. I want to see the real Iraq and not some base made by the soldiers and contractors. I want to know how life is on the outside and wonder if I will ever get that chance. It has been about two months now and I feel like an animal caged or an inmate. I want to go and see it. I hear the stories of the soldiers who on a daily basis venture outside the wire and wish I could be there. Some soldiers have been fired on. Is it worth the risk to go out, sometimes I think yes and sometimes no. The curiosity will bother me until I either venture out or come to grips with the fact that this is not my mission. I do not want to put myself at risk but I do want to know what happens outside the wire.

My Pets

My Pets
Every morning I get up and take care of my personal hygiene and then I feed the fish. In front of the building we live is there is a canal. The guys before us told us there were fish in there but I could never have imagined just how many. Each morning we throw out a variety of stale cereal, pretzels or bread. The fish churn the water like starving perrona on fresh meat. There are hundreds of them all sizes. The little ones try and try to get to the food but never seem to make it. There are some larger fish in there that appear to be four of five pounds. They just swim to the top and take the food without a care. One day we will pull some of them out with a rod and reel. But this is definitely a catch and release location as the water is very nasty and smells bad

Mission

Mission
Today some of our guys ventured outside of the wall. Apparently there was a wall with the picture of Sadam on it. This picture was right in front of one of our observation towers. Apparently the Iraqi people used it for target practice on occasion and some of the shots came close to the tower and caused the soldiers manning the tower to open up on the people. This is one of the Rules of Engagement do not fire unless you feel threatened, and I am quite sure that they felt threatened. So today some our guys ventured outside the wall with the wrecker and removed the wall. I am sure that the Iraqi people were happy to see the face of a tyrant torn down. The mission went off without a hitch no shots fired and no injuries. Tell me, this is a nation that does not want us here. I think not…….

Sunset

Sunset
As I sit and think of all that has gone wrong today I look through the pictures that I have taken. I remember this sunset. It was so beautiful. The tents bring back the thoughts of Kuwait. Everything we owned was covered in a fine layer of sand. The tents were packed with 50 to 60 troops with all of our gear and we waited. We waited for the day to come. The thoughts of Christmas at home still fresh in our minds. When the call finally came it was 1000 in the evening and I was told that I would leave at 3 am. We were on the weapons test fire range. After we finally made it back to the tents I packed all of my things and left only what I needed to sleep. By then it was 12 midnight and man was I tired. The next morning would be an eye close away. The whole night I dreamt of the upcoming plane flight. The flashback of horror only allowed for 30 minutes worth of sleep tops.

Eye in the Sky Part II

Eye in the Sky Part II
Apparently some miscommunication took place over the last several days. The eye in the sky had been flying high above the camp but now is docked at the docking station and has been there for a while. Apparently a bad call or a bad report came across and the 5 million dollar balloon was left in flight during a lighting storm. One lighting bolt hit it and did 600 thousand dollars worth of damage. Now we have a 5 million dollar balloon that does absolutely nothing. I think we should fly it anyway so the people can see it. They don’t know whether it is broken or not. They probably did not know what it was for anyway. They just seemed to use it for target practice.

Water Boy

Water boy
Apparently some people in this outfit are too lazy to do anything. About a week ago I received a call that the TOC needed water. I informed the caller that we had water here at the supply room. The next day I received another call that I needed to deliver water to the TOC. I said I do not think so, and again told the caller that we had water in supply. The next day a soldier came down to supply from the TOC and picked up office supplies. When asked if he was going to pick up water he replied no that we were supposed to deliver it. NOT!!!!!! The next day well do you see the pattern? Some people in the world today are too lazy to steal and too lazy to do the job that they were hired to do. They completely disregard their soldiers’ health and welfare with simply things like water. Now it seems that they feel as if they are untouchable. They cannot pull duty they cannot get their own water. Next I will be called to go to the TOC with toilet paper so I can wipe the MSG ass. Gees, I wish we were a real honest to God Army unit and not a bunch of weekend warriors on patrol.

Hum Drum

HUM DRUM
The daily humdrum is becoming quite the norm. Get up go for a run if the urge hits me, then chow, then work frantically, look up and it is lunch time. Eat back to work and then before I know it is chow time once again. I have not been hungry since I have been here but always seem to make it to the chow hall for meals. I do not think I have gained any weight but I have not been checking. Just wondering what is in store for me when I return home. I have some decisions to make. I am close to retirement as a weekend warrior. I can retire in late 2008 but if I do I cannot collect a retirement check from the military until I reach the age of 60. I could stay in and in 14 or so years I can retire active duty and collect a retirement check almost immediately. In those 14 years this deployment could be the norm. If I stay I figure I have at least 3 more before I through. Do I really want to spend that much time away from family? If I do not stay can I find a job that will support my family like the military does? One of the guys we replaced here said his wife was leaving him when he returned. She told him that she did not join the military He did. My wife is not like that but will she be if I have to do this several more times. I don’t know I do know however that she wants me to re-evaluate my chosen career. What does this mean? Does she want me to leave a job that I have had for almost half of my life? I cannot say that I have ever enjoyed this job but I can say that it is one that will put my first son through college and quite possible my second son as well. As for re-evaluation I will but I feel as if I already know the answer, I just am not ready to admit it or tell my wife that the military has become my life. I will learn to like what I do I will just have to get into the job that suits me. Supply is for the birds. Always worried always stressed always asked to do things that are not in my lane.

Super Bowl

Super Bowl
Today is super bowl Sunday but actually it is super bowl Monday with the 9-hour difference. The super bowl is on at 0200 in the morning. I probably will not watch it. Anheiser Bush the makers of Budweiser and all the real beers donated beer to us here. We were allowed two beers each and man were they good. The real thing not near beer as we call it here. This was the highlight of the day. It was like drinking a coke for the first time. It went down smooth and seemed to clear the heads of people. Some people even seemed like the two might have given them a buss. Now I sit here completely relaxed with a number two on my hand signifying that I had my two beers and that I am not allowed anymore. This is fine because I am not a heavy drinker. Two or three when I get the urge does me fine and let me tell you the urge was there today.

Music

Music
It seems to take me home. I listen to the songs that I brought with me from home and it seems to take me there. I can see the house, the yard (that I am sure needs to be mowed) the wife and the kids. I feel as if I am there with them working on some meaningless task or honey do’s. The desire to be there fads for the duration of the song but quickly returns as my eyes open once again and I realize that I am still here. Music whoever the inventor was never could have imagined the impact in would have on society and the world.
I know this man. This man was part of the reason that I applied for the job that I do. He is a tall man and well known in the community in which I live. He seems to always have a smile and always know what it is that a soldier needs to hear. Don’t get me wrong I have seen the man get angry when things were not going the way that they were supposed to.

Thank you Sadam

Thank you Sadam
You ask why would I say this. He built the place in which we stay. Some soldiers are not as fortunate as I am. They stay in trailers built here on the base. The trailers consist of a tin roof and some thin walls. A direct impact of a mortar on one of these trailers will turn the trailer into “Swiss cheese”. I was told of one guy who went home on leave and when he returned he returned to a trailer with a hole in the roof and in the floor. The only reason that the trailer was still there is because when the rocket went through the floor it tangled in some carpet and jammed it from exploding. Would it have gone off if he had been there? God only knows. For the most part the terrorists are bad shots. They shot and disappear so as to go undetected by the eye in the sky. This I am sure causes them not to aim anything but just shot and hope that they hit something. Thank God they are no good at what they are doing or we would be in trouble.

Eye in the Sky

Eye in the Sky
There is an eye in the sky. It is a blimp that has cameras on it. The government paid millions of dollars for these things so they can watch the areas just over the wall. They watch the neighbors to make sure they will not cause trouble. I have seen the monitors and I could sit and watch them all day. There is just something fascinating about watching these people carry on about their daily lives. It seems like with all of the technology today that they could have put a laser or something on it so it could shoot down the mortars as they fly by it. It seems as if the Blimp is a target. Some say they have seen tracers in the night sky trying to hit it. The eye in the sky it sees everything but seems to have little to no effect on the incoming mortar fire, but then again I was not here before the blimp it could have been worse then. I will never know.

The Wall

The Wall
A ten to twelve-foot wall has replaced the thoughts of the wire. I have not been outside of this wall. Once when we first got here I saw over it from a tower but other than that it is like a prison that you cannot escape from and in some ways do not want to escape from. I am now starting to have a desire to see the other side of the wall. I want to know what it is like on the other side of the wall. Are they all trying to kill us or is it just a few. People who venture to the outside tell me that most people are happy to see us. I see the Few, who do not want us here, as a bunch of drunks in their back yards laughing and shooting mortars at us over the wall. Before I leave this desolate God forsaken land I will venture outside the wall to see what we are here for. I do not question the reason just want to know that we are doing some good here. Will this be something that family would understand? Probably not but as a soldier some things that do not make sense to others make sense to Us.

Daily Life

Daily Life
Today I felt for the first time a slow depression. The sadness is always evident, in the people in the location and the colors. The color of this place is tan. everything covered with a thick layer of dust, dirt or sand. The sharpness in life seems to have faded to these same damned colors. I remember as a kid I had bad eye site. Mom took me to Sears and I had my eyes checked and when I put on glasses for the first time the world was sharp crisp and colorful. Now it is as if my eye site has faded back to the same as when I was young. I long for the green grass and trees. The palms have no green this time of year and grass is non-existent except for some places where it is obvious that someone has planted it. Upon arrival I marveled at the structure built by this tyrant. Now they too have lost excitement and have blended into the drab background in which I now live. This just goes to show you another proof that the old adage you don’t know what you have till its gone is ever so true.

Sadness

Sadness
I met this guy today. He is a soldier in the unit that we are here to replace. He is a small man short and slim. He seems to smile sometimes but through a bitter sadness it seems. He eyes are sad as he walks slowly by. The work he does here seems to be meaningless to him but he is praised by all who know him. I made the mistake of asking why he seemed so sad all of the time. I did not ask him I asked someone who works closely with him and this is what I was told. You see he had a lifelong friend, a hunting buddy and just a true best friend. This friend was a member of the same unit as he is. One day last year this friend was tasked with the mission to escort a dignitary around the city of Baghdad. I understood that this was not the normal job of this soldier that he had been called in at the very last minute. They dawned all of the appropriate gear and headed out. They were driving an up-armored suburban. Then it happened out of nowhere came a crazed terrorists. I can only assume that this terrorist was like all of the rest, not afraid to die for a cause only known by a few in this country. This was it the test of a lifetime would they pass or fail. As the vehicle approached driven by this terrorist I am sure that he was warned to stay back but kept coming. This soldier new to this job acted appropriately either out of instinct or fear. Does it really matter which? The soldier put his vehicle in the way of the terrorist to ensure that the “target Vehicle”(the one with the dignitary in it) was not approached. When this was done and the terrorist realized that they would not be allowed to get any closer they blew up the vehicle. I was told that whoever had wired this one had done it right because the vehicle blew out not down like most of them do. The soldiers were killed instantly. The blast rolled the vehicle that contained the dignitary. Other than a little shaken the dignitary was okay. I just do not understand why anyone would want to put their lives on the line to tour the city, the ruins the obvious dangers involved had to be unsettling. None-the-less two heroes were born that day and Weed lost a lifelong friend. This sadness is now understood.

Baghdad Home of a Madman

Baghdad home of a madman
After off-loading our bags we had a 30-40 minute wait before our ride arrived. While we stood outside joking and carrying on a fifty cal machine gun broke into our conversation. At first I was a little startled but as I looked around at the folks with patches on their rights sleeve I noticed that they had not even missed a beat in their conversation. (Soldiers with patches on their right sleeve have been in country for a while. There is a time frame that you must be here before you allowed to wear the Combat Patch) would this be me in a couple of months? If so would this really be a good thing or a bad thing? We boarded the bus and headed out. All that could be seen was the destructive power of the millions of dollars of bombs that we had dropped on this country. Everything was a sandy gray color. Most buildings that we passed had holes in them or the roof was gone. A sad sight even to a GI who was glad that we were doing what we were doing. As we went over speed bumps around potholes and through checkpoints nothing changed, until we reached the inside of the wire. Inside the wire I saw millions of dollars in temples and hideaways. This madman built an enormous playground for the kids. The kids whose parents he had enslaved beaten and stolen the spirit from. Inside the palace the first thing I noticed was the marble. Not only were the floors made of marble but the walls as well. And then there was the lighting, chandeliers in every room. Enormous beautiful rooms with grand archways. It could be seen that the man had a passion for spending the aide monies that the US and other countries had sent his people. As we were shown around the base I saw where many buildings had been patched with new brick. Man, we really did blow the shit out of HIS country. Finally we were shown to our trailers and we were able to put up our things. I decided that even though I was tired I would get a quick shower before calling it a day. As I was finishing up I heard it BOOM then a delay and BOOM again. Oh shit I thought. Please do not let them take me out day one on the ground. I want to go home all in one piece. I quickly dried put on my clothes and swiftly headed back to my trailer. Like there was some kind of safety in my tin trailer house. As I entered the room my roommate said jokingly “ You still alive “. I said yes but I just could not get it out of my head. Would this be the closest I ever got to death? I sure as hell hope so.

3 o'clock Wake-up

3 o’clock Wake-up
After spending half the night packing, 3 o’clock was entirely too early. It is finally time to go and get the mission started. As we boarded the plane, uneasiness came over me, a flashback to another C-130 flight. As we taxied down the runway the loadmaster opened the cargo door for what I am unclear. As the door closed my heart began to race and my hands shook as I nervously rubbed my protector (my weapon). Closter-phobia has always plagued me, and this put me back in that state of mind. I am unsure why I feel this way because the inside of the plane would fit three full size SUVs without a problem, but never the less I had to talk myself through it. Not many of my fellow soldiers know of my fear because it is a sign of weakness and I choose not to say anything. Some soldiers sleep others read and others gaze off as if to ask what next. One and a half hours and we are in BAGHDAD.

Camels on the Range

Camels on the Range
Today we went to the range in Kuwait to shoot. I have been here ten days now, and I am ready to get to where we are going to stay for a while. Living out of a bag well it just sucks. On our way to the range I took note of the bus driver. He was young but with most of the people here ages are hard to guess. I noticed his hands more than anything. They were scared as if they had been burned or something horrible had happened. I wonder when and where this happened to him. Upon arrival to the range I saw my first “wild” camel. They roam wild just like horses did when the Americas were first settled. These things are giants. They are very ugly and smelly but I guess they are good for something.

Old Guy

Old Guy
I remember when I used to make fun of the Old Guy. I used to say things without even thinking of whether or not it would hurt his feelings. Now I find myself as the Old Guy in the younger generation. Today at chow I found out that one soldier was born in 1984. I joined the military when this soldier was 4 years old. I have now become the old fart in the unit. I am not the oldest by far but when you are put in this category then it just does not matter. Some say you are only as old as feel and sometimes I feel a hell of a lot older than I actually am. I know that it is only in fun but sometimes it can still hurt.

Flow Chart

Flow Chart
If I were to create a Stupidity Flow chart all bad arrows would lead back to the same two people. The creation of policies and SOPs are done without even writing them down now. No one knows what these policies are until they try to do their job and are told to stop because a policy of SOP has been broken. If these people were ever of lesser rank they do not show it. The complete control and micro-management shown by these people is intolerable and unacceptable. I sure hope that when we actually do come under fire or need something immediately I hope that these people are not there. The stupidity seems to start at Brigade level and emulate in all directions. The separation of Brigade and intelligence began when the training did. When will it stop?

First Encounter

First Encounter
“What the hell is he doing?” the driver says out loud as a man steps into the street ahead of him. There were six passengers in the NTV (non-tactical vehicle). As they approached vehicles on the side of the road one man walked out in front of them waving his arms to stop. There were about six of them behind two Toyota trucks. They slowed their approach, as an uneasy feeling came over all in the vehicle they all began to chamber rounds. The driver then saw it a machine gun coming around to take aim at their vehicle. “Go go go”, he said as he swerved to miss the man in the road. He had made it passed and the others in the convoy followed suit. Was this an attempted car jacking or was this our first encounter with terrorists? In the big book on terrorism did we pass the test or fail? They were not ready but they would not go without a fight. You would think that during a war they would have enough rounds to support all troops while deployed but on this particular night they were only carrying about 10 rounds per vehicle. What would they have done if the driver would have stopped and they would have opened fire?

News from Home

News from home
Some people get good news from home and others bad. One soldier who phoned home was informed of an auto accident involving his son. My phone conversations are very short as it is 9 hours difference between here and home. I would call and talk for hours if it were possible. It just seems that I do not have a family any more rather a friend in a distant state who I talk to on occasion. My desire to talk to my wife and kids leaves me in a bad mood. It sometimes leads to tension between myself and other soldiers. I just want to go home and be who I was before I left. A father, a dad, a husband and a studying Christian, Damn it I want to go home.
First Encounter

Nelo

Forty -TwoThis is a game worthy of even the most intellectual. Just as I learned the initial way to play they add in things like Nelo and Push. “ You can’t win if you don’t play”, they say. This is true with so many things. But in War what is winning? Is it the total annihilation of the bad guys? Or is it the liberation of a country that has had the hell beat out of it. I hope and pray that these people learn to stand up for themselves after we leave. If they do not then we will return again to the same War. The circumstances around this war were in question at first but now it seems that people are finally starting to realize that these people deserve to live in a world of freedom.

To Up-Armor or NOT

To Up-Armor or NOT
The evidence of “Hilly Billy” armor is everywhere. Hill Billy armor is metal plates installed on the vehicle, be it welded or just rigged somehow to provide some sense of safety. These plates are dug from trash bins and piles left by other units. As you can imagine these metal plates are hard to come by in the desert. I can imagine that if a unit brings them with them from the states that they would have to guard them 24/7. Would another soldier steal this to insure his safety? I am sure that there are a few but I myself would steal them if it insured not only my safety but also the safety of my fellow soldiers. It is like stealing from a cousin to help out a brother. We are all family just at different family levels. This is something that I believe is in the process of being fixed. With the question to Mr. Rumesfeld, himself comes some kind of fix or evidence of a fix for his problem. The president has begun to check into this I believe because he speaks of it in his speeches. I thank God for Mr. Bush because he seems to have a genuine concern for the soldiers of the Armed Forces. If the 507th would have had up-armored vehicle would Johnny still be alive? With the exception of a convoy of up-armored HUMMV’s there is just not enough to go around. I saw an up-armored HUMMV this morning on my way to chow. It appeared that it had been shot at and the front of it was mangled. The shots where on the drivers side right where the drivers head would be. The bullets did not penetrate the ballistic glass installed on the vehicle. Are WE prepared for such encounters? The answer is most definite not as none of our vehicles have even a shred of Hill Billy much less the up-armor.

Todays Excitement

Today’s Excitement
Today actually early tomorrow morning we will go to the airport to pick-up the rest of the company. We will depart at 22:30 today and pick them up at 03:00 tomorrow. With every trip it becomes increasingly evident that we are not safe here, and this is only Kuwait. Every bus must have a minimum of two armed guards. Any vehicle that leaves the “Wire” must have an armed guard. Ammo everywhere. States side AMMO is a big deal. Counting for each and every bullet on a daily basis. Here it is not just handed out but it is greatly abundant. Finally without a doubt I know that we are all in a dangerous environment and our lives depend on not only our equipment, but also each other. With the help of the Good Lord above and the attention to detail required that of a soldier we will prevail and bring home every soldier with all 10 fingers and 10 toes.

Morning

Morning
When I woke this morning I knew I was still here long before my eyes ever opened. The sounds of the generators are constant non-stop. These generators power the entire city in the desert. It is really quite amazing that everything here is sustained from within. There is a Subway a Pizza Hut and even a Hardees. I just do not see how anyone would turn down the food in the mess hall and pay for a meal. Maybe this is just me and my tight wad self.

Chow

Chow
Oh my what a difference, Why is it that the chow stateside was like that of a new wife who could not cook? Now they feed us good. The food looks good and tastes good. Yesterday as the first holiday in this country passed they had T-bone steaks for lunch and lobster for dinner. I guess this is all we can expect for a holiday celebration. The mess hall is clean and they have everything except Diet Dr Pepper. I wish I had a Diet Dr Pepper. You just do not realize how good you have things until one day they are gone.

Week One

Week one
We got off the plane and onto another bus. Before leaving the airport area two soldiers on the bus were issued ammo to protect us. The hour ride clearly showed that we were in another country but the look and smell reminds me of Odessa Texas where I grew up. As we drove I saw mounds of trash on the side of the road and rows of trees planted one beside the other, none taller than 15 or 20 feet. The Kuwait Police escorted us to the base. As we entered the base we were stopped at two checkpoints and then finally allowed to enter. All that could be seen from the bus was a tall mound of sand. This sand mound I would later find out was the limits of the base. Sand sand everywhere is sand, and no color. What happened to this country? The Bible says that it was green and full of life at one time. With exception of an occasional lizard I have seen nothing that resembles any kind of wild life.

Route

Route
The map appears to show us flying right over the country we are trying to help. Will they see us coming? As I look out the window of the cockpit I think of Johnny. He died down there somewhere. I wonder if he arrived here the same way with the same thoughts that I am having and praying the same prayers.

Man in the Mirror

Man in the Mirror
As I sat in the airport I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflective glass. Who is this man in the mirror? A battle has begun in my head. Am I really a soldier or a family man? How is it possible to be both? What if I have to kill someone? Will I still be the patient father I was when I left or will I become an impatient jerk who is set off by any little thing? Will I at years end be afraid to return home, as I was afraid to leave? Or will everything be the same and all of these worries that I have written be a note of humor?

First Stop

First Stop
Frankfurt, I have been here before just not in this airport or under these conditions. Life and War have similarities. The small battles, the taking of lives or killing of emotion there is one thing for certain there will always be a winner and always a loser. I can only hope that I have learned enough to proclaim victory when I am called to meet my maker or at years end.

Jetlag

Jetlag
As the ranking officers stretched out in full comfort on the front of the plane, I find myself bobbing and nodding trying to sleep with the dream of the little boy fading in and out. The coffee, the Copenhagen and the lack of sleep make me feel and look like a drug addict coming down from a two-day high. The flashes of the dream not helping matters at all. As I try to interpret the dream I pray that it never comes true. Red eyes 24 hours without a shave it has finally begun…..The Year.

The Flight

The flight
“ Flight time to Frankfurt Germany is just short of 9 hours with continuing service to Kuwait”, says the captain as we prepare for take off. This is it. We are finally on our way. On our way to what? Was the training adequate enough to get us through? God only knows. Will this be my last flight or is this just the beginning of an experience that I will never forget? The people, the land this is what we have trained for. Will it be anything like what we expected? With my weapon under my seat and the ground so far below, my fear of flying over the water is drowned out by the building fear of what’s next. Will God answer my pleas to bring us home safe? With life is death and with death new life, but what does this life have in store for us next. The world has changed and now we are like a world police, with some in total agreement and some not. Like dad said before I left “I understand it but I don’t like it none the less.” I as well support this effort and also don’t like it. If this is my time to go let me go like a brave hero and not a dumb coward. Dios nos ayudamos.

The Gym

The Gym
Why did we stop here? “Everyone off the bus.” Single file into the gym, now it seems we can only take one bag. Would someone please make some kind of decision and stick with it. These last minute changes are killing morale. The music is so loud will someone please turn it down. Is this supposed to motivate us or give us a headache? The highlight had to be the hug from the little white haired lady. What a good job she is doing?

Final Good-bye

Final Good-bye
This was by for the toughest thing I have ever done. As I hugged one of my sons and told him good-bye my wife burst into tears. I went to comfort her and reassure her of that which I was unsure of (my return) both of my boys began to cry. Even Andy sensed the high emotion and seemed to get teary eyed. I had only met Andy a couple of months back. He is a foreign exchange student who is staying with my sister. As I watched them drive away I felt as if a weight had been lifted and wiped a lonely tear from my eye. I spent several minutes alone to shake off the emotion remember “Real Men” don’t cry, and they don’t lie either. As we sat and waited for our departure my mind begins to wander. Did they make it home safe? I do not worry as much for my safety as I do for theirs; I just want my family to be the same when I return, as it was when I left. However I know that this is just not possible. I think back on the 9 days spent at home but it just seemed like 2. The days quickly passed like a movie flash back. If you love someone set them free, if they return it was meant to be. We will be back God willing.

Deployment Ceremony

Deployment Ceremony
As the ceremony commenced with my family watching I could not help but feel the excitement build, but Why? Why did the thought of going to war excite me? Leaving behind family had never seemed so easy. As the National Anthem played I wondered if someone in the formation of 400 would not return or could it be me? And if I did return and one of my fellow soldiers did not would I feel guilty? As I looked out over the crowd I saw tears flow. Would we all come back home?

Bus Ride

Bus Ride
As the trees pass by I think of the upcoming leave and the upcoming mission. Will I still feel out of place even though this will be my last trip home? As the bus bounces and rolls down the highway I think of my new family, the one that has by now completely replaced the one I am returning to see. I hope all make it home safe and return. It is as if the concern for them is greater than the concern for my real family. I want all of the family to be there when we leave.

Bull by the Horns

Bull by the Horns
I feel like I am in a different world. My Family seems so far away. I will feel out of place for the majority of my coming days off. It will not be until I return to my unit that I will feel at home. It is a strange kind of reality check. I feel more at home here than in the home that my family and I built. What is the deal? The only contact with home is email or phone. There is no sense of touch in these types of conversations. I listen attentively but it is as if I cannot get satisfied. I just want to jump head- first back into my old life. Sometimes the depression makes one forget about what it is they are here for. The thought of death is overpowering at times but we must battle on and show no weakness. I have a friend who used to ride bulls for a living in fact he was a world champion. They say a bull can sense fear and weakness. He had to overcome any weakness and fear, like we have to. To me he is a real soldier. Most Fridays or Saturdays he would do battle with a ton or so of unpredictable rage. We as soldiers in the military are preparing to do battle with a country full of rage. As he willing mounts this bull he prepares for the upcoming battle and shows no fear. The preparation of a soldier is much the same. Repetition and practice will help to hang on whether it be for 8 seconds or for one year. The practice pays off whether they pin an award on your chest or give you the gold buckle or whether you just get back home in one piece. All are proud. I salute the soldiers in whatever career field they choose, and pray for a safe and short battle.

Struck a Nerve

Struck a Nerve
I guess no one ever talks about the things that I have written. It is as if they really do not want to acknowledge that these feelings exist. As I sit and watch peoples expressions as they read my feelings on paper I realize that maybe I am not the only one who feels these things. I see the tears well up in some eyes and see the utter shock in others but for the most part I hear the same response. “ I feel that too, I just do not know how to word it, or “can I get a copy of that when you are done”. As I sit here in the dark and type I feel as if maybe these words could help families and friends to understand what it is that a GI feels when the wheels of fate run him down.


All of our property is scattered to the winds. We have to pay for this stuff if it gets lost yet we load it on all sorts of trucks vans and ship it out at different times and dates. This makes accountability next to impossible. Home much will I have to pay if I return?

Final Visit Home?

Final Visit Home
Will this be the last time I see my family? Will this be the last time I see my friends from church? It is unbelievable to say I do not want to go home, but I don’t. Since the beginning of this nightmare I have wished to just get there. To just arrive in country and get it started so I can get it over with. The training seems long and drawn out and for the supply side of the house it seems pointless. Everyone has the same outlook. They say when do we leave. We cannot wait to get over there. It is not an excitement to be there but a sigh of relief. Training behind us we can concentrate finally on the job at hand. Will this be my last entry in my pages of gibberish? Will this indeed be my final visit home?

The Blue Book on Terrorism

The Blue Book on Terrorism
If there were such a book can you imagine the things it would have in it. Chapter 1 how to kill Americans Chapter 2 how to kill Americans, and so on. It would teach young boys how to die at the whim of a madman. It would detail the ways to create death. How to implant death and how to install misery. Do these people understand why we are here?

Outside the Wire

Outside the Wire
In our minds the wire is the safe zone, yet many will have to venture outside the wire. The wire is no more that the outskirts of the base. It must be guarded or it could be compromised. Today in training we dared to venture outside the wire. It was just to pick-up some supplies necessary for the mission. As I locked and loaded my M4 I could not help but feel some sense of excitement and fear. To me the training is being conducted in country. This is the real thing. I hope to never have to make a trip outside the wire but have been told that at a minimum I will once a month. Will these trips yield death? The death of a fellow soldier seems as if it would hurt worse than my own. Is this what hero’s are made of. Is this what they think when their heroic act is performed? Could I protect the soldiers who I told I would bring home, would it cost me my life to carry out my promise? I will not put any of my soldiers in harms way I will be the one to make the trip outside the wire.

TAPS

TAPS
This has to be the only song in the history of the United States that can make even the most hardened soldier cry. This song represents the death of a soldier, a friend and a family member. All soldiers in the US military are members of a family. Today during training we had a memorial ceremony for the “dead” soldiers of the Battalion. From the Weapons standing on end to the boots in front, this is tough to take. During Roll Call the names of some soldiers present for the ceremony are called out. The soldiers all answer with “here top” or “here first sergeant”. Then the names of the dead are called out, the response is bitter silence. This starts the emotion to flowing deep down inside. As the tears start to well up inside TAPS is played. Even if you have led a sheltered life and never heard it, it hurts and the tears will flow. It has finally hit home for some soldiers, we are going to War. Crying as a soldier in this situation brings no shame and shows no weakness. In today’s society it seems that people believe that men do not cry except in weakness, but certain situations can not be bottled up inside. As the soldiers passed in their somber mood it is even apparent that they know it is training yet feel as though it was real. Soldiers are assured that we will ALL come back home safe because the cold bitter reality could cause soldiers to hit the wall head on and cause loss of life. They played Taps on two separate occasions when they laid Johnny to rest. I did not deal with it well. After Johnny died the somber feeling had me hovering near the wall for a while. The emotional low was the lowest I can remember since the death of a brother-n-law. While on active duty I attended the ceremony of another soldier not killed during combat but given the same respect as the combat veteran. Dieing for ones country is an honor but I do not want anyone in my unit to receive this honor. Lord Please bring us home safely.

Morning Coffee

Morning Coffee
It is hard to get out of the bunk in the morning. We know we have to be somewhere at a certain time but still we wait until we have 3 or 4 minutes to be there. The hours are okay but we are just so damned tired. Why? It starts with a bunch of noise from one soldier who believes that if he is up we should be up. Then the lights, then the smell of coffee, this is when I get up. Coffee, what an amazing discovery. I cannot make it through the day without it. It can keep you up when you’re so tired that you cannot keep your eyes open. It can also help with a sore throat. Coffee the wonder drug, I think it is time for another cup.

Trigger Squeeze

Trigger squeeze
With the first trigger squeeze will there be a decision to make? Will the persons whose life that I have to take be an armed adult shooting at me or will it be a kid with a weapon. I have had many dreams of just this, a kid with a weapon. Just as my finger closes down on the trigger, I wake up from the nightmare. I do not want to make a decision I would much rather be being shot at than have to decide if the person is a threat. Why do we allow them to carry weapons around? The perceived threat from a person with a weapon is extreme. This causes mixed emotions in me and I am not even there yet. Will these types of exchanges have a lasting effect on me for the rest of my life? If they do not does it mean that I am a cold-hearted killer? Most soldiers hope that their trip over will not yield any firefights. My goal is to go over there and come back without firing one single round. If the shoe was on the other foot and they were coming here would I give my wife a gun to defend herself? Would I get shot and would this give her the courage to shoot at some one out of revenge? I do not want to kill anyone especially not a woman or child but I guess if the threat is there is disarming them is out of the question then it will be done. Will I have to? I sure hope not.

The Journey North

The Journey North
One of my greatest fears about this whole mission has got to be the road from Kuwait to Baghdad. This is a two days journey full of IEDs and enemy. With the soldiers question to Mr. Rumesfeld, came a heightened awareness of the problems during this journey. A soldier asked him what they were doing to correct the armor problem in Kuwait. They have soldiers digging in trashcans and piles of old ballistic glass in an effort to provide more protection for themselves. Why is it that they have up-armor Hummvs here in the United States and have a shortage of them in Country? The road to Baghdad has taught the military many things and caused changes to the way we do things. Just off this highway is where Johnny was killed. With the attack on his convoy I feel confident that this situation was re-checked and other safety measures were put in place. Did he have to die? Could it have been prevented?

Its gone

Its Gone
“Someone stole my helmet,” says a voice in the doorway to the supply room. Well what can I do about it? I can charge the soldier for a helmet and get one in a few days to a week. I just do not understand how some one could steal something that is more valuable than almost anything the young soldier owns. This could cause him great problems. Now he thinks of the money first and foremost and then he thinks of his life. He will not sleep tonight and will not stop looking for it for days. He might even resort to lifting someone else’s helmet, thus the cycle begins. It is not so much for his safety that he would do it but it is for the financial aspect of it. Young soldiers are kind of like kids jumping off the roof of the house. The first time is terrifying but they still do it. They believe in their minds that they are indestructible. With age comes the wisdom that indestructible behavior can cause a kind of self-destruction. The fear in the young soldiers eyes is not necessarily about combat but that of separation. Separation from family, friends and life style can cause a young soldier to hit the “wall” hard and not recover. With this some soldiers go AWOL not knowing how to cope. Again it comes back to an attentive NCO, Officer or other soldier to recognize and provide some guidance.

Interpreter

InterpreterI met an Iraqi today. As a soldier looking from the outside in the people of Iraq all seem like heartless insurgents. A hatred developed for these people with the death of Johnny. It is almost like a slow prejudice for a people who I really do not know. With the be-headings of several civilians and other personnel in Iraq the hatred grew until today. These are just people trying to survive. They do not necessarily want our help but I believe they need our help. I am sure that some of the Iraqi people also believe that we are doing some good over there, but with the international incidents like Abu Grab and the killing of an unarmed insurgent it has really seemed to put more people against us. The interpreter spoke to us. He watched a movie with us. During this movie US soldiers murdered lots of people. This made me feel uneasy. I do not know why or have any explanation for my feelings. It just seemed as if we were telling him that this is the way all Americans operate. I finally decided that it was not worth feeling that way and left him to watch the movie alone. Prior to the movie, we asked how to say certain words in his language, like stop, hello and short phrases to help in confrontations. In his eyes it seemed that he just wanted some peace for his people. Does he understand that we are trying to bring them such peace? Or would he turn against us once he returned to his own soil. I think not, but I have always been one to find good in people. Being married to a Hispanic woman for going on 16 years I have heard the prejudice from people who do not even know the definition of prejudice, and from people who you would never expect. My oldest son has been told on several occasions that, “My dad or mom will not let me date a Hispanic”. Is this society so blind that it would rather alter the definition of a word rather than admit that they are what they are? I do not remember asking for their permission to marry out of my race, and have not read any where in the Bible that tells me that it is wrong. I know what prejudice is Do you? My definition of prejudice is judging some one by something other than who they are. People are good and people are bad. My theory is that all races have good and bad and God created them all.

The wall

The Wall
Any military member who has been deployed can tell you about the proverbial wall. The wall is a point you reach when you just do not care anymore. Almost as if living and dieing does not matter, this being the most drastic incident when hitting the wall. If training is not to standard and all you do is sit and watch or train on something even though you know it is wrong then you are headed that direction. A soldier who has hit the wall could not give a damn about anything that goes on. They sit and wonder off in their own head blocking out all reality. I have been to this wall on several different occasions. It is like driving in a tunnel without a light. Try thinking of all the problems you have or have had in your life and then multiple by ten, then sit in a dark room and ponder all of these problems and shut out everything else. Some people hit this wall when they loose a close friend or fellow soldier. This wall can stop the mission if left alone. It is the responsibility of all soldiers to recognize someone who has hit this wall and try to bring the soldier back to reality. Anyone can do this if they approach the issues with care. It is kind of like marriage counseling. It is not a good idea to tell someone what you would do in their particular situation rather to help them reach their own decision through encouragement and perhaps relating some personal experiences to help.

Price of Freedom

Price of Freedom
Life love and the pursuit of happiness should include freedom. Freedom is not free. Many brave men and women have fought to ensure that our freedoms never fade. But what of the rest of the world, Should we go and help or stay and watch them self-destruct. As I watch the news I cannot help but wonder why some people are the way they are. It seems that some people love to see others suffer. Why can they not suffer so they can feel the same way that they make others feel?

Lets kill another tree shall we

Lets kill another Tree shall we.
The military writes re-writes and re-does it again. Why? I have come to believe that Army Regulations are worthless. They can be superceded by anyone with the knowledge to write an SOP or a Memorandum. In the earlier years the Regs were more than just guidelines to follow. They were Gospel. Now you cannot find anything out by just reading the Reg alone. So many SOPs and local policies govern things it is a wonder that we get anything done at all. It is like re-creating the wheel every time something happens. Some would let people fall on their face rather than help, and some would rather screw-up royally than take advice from some one else. Unit used to be characterized as unity one family but now it seems like it is all for themselves. What’s next?

Pondering the Future and Laugh at Death

Pondering the Future
As I ponder the next year a reoccurring question remains imbedded in my head. Is this my time? If I am not killed will I be the same when I get back. I would think that after a year in a strange country bearing witness to such horrific sights that it might change someone’s outlook. Would I be changed? Will I be the one on the News who would shoot someone at the drop of a hat? In my thoughts I feel scared. Would I be, the someone, Dad, Husband and Friend that I was before I left when I return? My fear of death does not out weigh the pride that I have in fighting for my country. The founding fathers of this Nation knew that we would not survive if we did not fight for what we believe in.

Laugh at Death
During training Death is funny to most. “ Ha-ha he got shot”, but to me the soldier is dead. If he died in training then he could die in combat. We all could die in combat. Does it mean that I am a coward if I chose not to go outside? That is not my mission. What will I do when we arrive in country? This is just training. Are heroes born or is it some situation that they find themselves in and instinct takes over. I believe that soldier’s instincts are implanted during training. I wonder if I could be a Hero or will I turn tail and run. Like all other soldiers I think of myself as the hero type, but I will not know until it happens. I think that if my fellow soldiers were in trouble I would come to their aid no matter what the danger. Please God do not let it happen.

People die everyday. Drugs, auto accidents etc. but when they do they are gone. A small send off and they are gone. If a soldier dies, he dies for his country, for the citizens of it and the soldiers who defend it. The send off for a soldier is awesome. From the Flag draped casket to the playing of Taps. This is the way I want to go just not at this age. I have so many things that I have not done in life. I want to go on a cruise. I want to fly to another country for a vacation not a War.

No Fear

No Fear
During the day I keep up my Attitude I show no weakness. Never back down for fear of losing face in front of my troops. It seems almost wrong to say, but I would rather take a beating than lose face in front of the soldiers I train with. They need to see a leader, a soldier and then a friend not a coward. As time progresses I become a confidant, some one to come to with problems, problems with life, problems with home or just plain problems. I help when I can and direct them to help when I cannot. As an NCO with years of experience the troops look to me for guidance. But do I really know what to do? Am I a real NCO or just another good Ol’ boy, who got promoted by Friends and not by the rules? As I stand back and watch the other NCOs I feel as if I missed something. I realize that we all went to different schools and were taught different things but did I retain any leadership from the schools I attended some ten years ago. Am I an NCO of the same stature as the NCOs who I respect?

Johnny

Johnny
As I watched the news of the war on TV, the body count rose. I did not associate the count with actual people. It seemed to be just a bunch of numbers. Then they called up my nephew, Johnny. He was the reason I joined in the first place. I went to see him and his wife Nancy at Ft Hood and decided that the military was the life for me. After I returned home from Ft Hood I enlisted. Now he was going to War. His unit, the 507th Maintenance Company out of El Paso Texas deployed in February. I have seen pictures of vehicles lined up and ready to go into Iraq. The picture showed miles and miles of vehicles all in line ready to roll. I believe that Johnny was in there somewhere. I wonder what he was thinking about and whether he had the fear that is beginning to build inside of me. What does the next year hold in store for me? For us? In March Johnny’s convoy was ambushed just outside of An Nassaria and Johnny was killed in action. He was only 35. I am only 35. Now the body count has come to life, now the count became soldiers. It just hit me kind of like a movie flash back of a person’s life when they die. All of the photos and faces of the fallen soldiers flashed by, and stopped on a picture of Johnny. It is sad that it took the death of a relative to bring the numbers to mean something. We had just talked not 6 months prior and now he is gone. I told him that he would not be there long and that they would be home soon. I would like to say that he is not forgotten by the country he so bravely defended but truth is his name has just become another number in the endless numbers of causalities. It seems with the media coverage that they pick someone to make a hero of and forget all others. The people who return from combat injured are remembered longer than those who gave the ultimate sacrifice. Everyone remembers Jessica Lynn as the cute female soldier who was rescued but not too many remember the other members of the unit. We as family and friends keep Johnny’s memories alive. Don’t get me wrong I have nothing but respect for PFC Lynch. She was the only soldier riding in that particular Hummv who lived yet, when she returned she chose to tell the truth in her interviews rather than some contorted story to make herself look better. Do I know that it was the truth? No, I was not there, but she quietly said that she did not shoot at all that her weapon was jammed. How could someone make up a lie like that? If she were going to make up a story it would have been one to bring more attention to herself. Will I be the one to return with a story or will I be the one who is only remembered by family and friends? What fate is in store for me? For us? The next 12 months will tell the tale.

Reality of War

Reality of War
The reality of war is that some people understand it and some don’t. As I sat in the early stages and watched the war, the protestors really disturbed me. They burn our flag and shame our President. What would it take to make them understand, a bomb dropped in the middle of the United States? If each protestor had lost a family member in the attack of 9-11 would they feel differently? They just do not understand. Why do they disgrace us the way they do? Some act as if they are better than we are. They spit on my fellow soldiers and call them names. Do they not understand? This gives me some idea as to what the Viet Nam veterans felt when they returned home. When I am called on, I will fight for the American protestors just like I do for the people who do understand.

Cutting Ties and Train-up

Cutting Ties
Long before a soldier ever leaves home he slowly fades from the day-to-day activities of the family. Is this some kind of defensive tactic or just a tactic to help with the pain of departure? The daily family activities seem to mean nothing. It is as if the soldier leaves before he is ever gone. It is not to say that he does not love his family or care anymore but I believe it to be a defense set up to protect the emotions that he knows will swell when he does finally leave.

Train-up
As we train in various locations on different military installations (posts), we learn to deal with what we are dealt. The conditions that we find ourselves in are all too often unfavorable. The chow is most times something that cannot be recognized but some how we manage to eat it. The barracks are run down, as we are visitors to their post, so we get what they have left. Even though we are classified as active duty we are often times treated as Guard soldiers. But as they say,” we have a mission.” I enlisted in the military some 16 years ago, not knowing if this day would ever come. Being a new recruit I felt the same feeling as others feel today “how do I get out of going if it happens.” As I worked my way up through the ranks as an Active duty Army soldier I came to the realization that one-day it would happen. Then in my third year of service it did. Iraq Part I ………The military was called to do its job and this was the first time that I felt as if I would miss something if I did not go. Our unit was on stand-by but never got the call. The closest I got to combat was loading baggage for soldiers who were deploying. They had the somber look of kids whose parents were late to pick them up from school. I felt a sense of sadness because I had missed what it was that I was trained for. But every evening when I returned home to my wife and kid I was glad that I did not go.
The years spent on Active Duty seemed to fly by, but when it came time to get out I decided that my uniform did not have enough rank or awards on it to hang it up. I could not help but think that it would not be impressive to my grandkids the way it was. So after 3 and a half years on active duty I called it quits and joined the National Guard. I remember while stationed at Ft Lewis saying,” look at those hippies they must be guard soldiers. “ Now I found myself as one of them. After working a dead end job for some ten years (and being a week end warrior) I decided to return to an Active duty position. Active Duty National Guard (AGR). I always thought that AGR soldiers did nothing all day. I thought the job would be easy, that I would sit and drink coffee all day and do nothing. Man was I wrong. An AGR soldier does more by far than an active Army soldier. After ten years It happened. The rumor, the reality the training. Oh my God we are going to War.