#1. Some of you have asked for an update on what we'd love to have in a care package, and I am your humble servant. :)
- Tootsie Pops
- Tootsie Rolls
- Kit Kats, Hershey Bars, Reece Cups (It's down to the low 100s, so stuff doesn't melt as fast. :)
- Rice Krispie Treats
- Brownies
- Energy Bars
- Peanuts
- Kleenexes
- Tylenol
- iTunes Cards
Again, thank you to all that have sent wonderful care packages. I hope you all don't mind, but I take great joy and sharing the goodies and treasures you send with the soldiers I work with and work around. Share the love!
#2. My wife Angela sent me a copy of The Shack to read. I highly recommend reading this book.
http://theshackbook.com/
I had no idea what to expect, though I did know this was a book about faith. Wow! I have not been taken on a roller coaster like that from a book in a long long time. The last time I remember being emotionally impacted like this was readying Where the Red Fern Grows as a kid and then A Time to Kill by John Grisham in college. I went from shock to terror to anger to fear and then I was pulled up by my emotional boot straps into this amazing sense of love and reconciliation.
William Young grabbed a hold of me using one of my greatest fears and took me on a ride with my faith that I'll never forget. I could barely read last 3-4 chapters from the tears flowing down my face.
Those of you that know me well know that I'm a intellectual believer. I like to understand things and reason through the "hows" and the "whys". I like to think things through. I like to talk things out. I've grown in my faith over the last few years, because I've had opportunities to do this and I've seen the results. I believe. I believe because I want to and I love how faith makes me feel. This book fits people like me perfectly. It really makes you think. It makes you look inside yourself and helps rationalize why faith and love are important...and useful.
I'd highly recommend picking up a copy of The Shaft or ordering the audiobook. (It's available on iTunes. I looked.) Check it out and feel free to share any thoughts on it here. I'd love to hear what other think.
#3. My deployment reading list. I had a lot more opportunities to read prior to getting to Kuwait. The daily 12 hour shifts have really curtailed by reading time, but I've continued to work through a couple of books. Here's what I've read since I mobilized in March.
Title : Author : Notes
The American Lion
Jon Meacham
Biography of Andrew Jackson
A Man After God's Heart
Thomas Nelson
A great book for Dads!
What Would Google Do?
Jeff Jarvis
Comparison of Business Practices
No Ordinary Time
Doris Kearns Goodwin
Biography of FDR and Eleanor
Mongoose Theatre
R.W. Meredith R
etired NCO and One of My Instructors
The Rum Diary
Hunter S. Thompson
Story of a Reporter in Puerto Rico
The Traveler's Gift
Andy Andrews
Positive Thinking / Self Help
The Cambridge History of Warfare
Geoffrey Parker
Reading for ILE
D-Day: 24 Hrs That Changed the World
Time
Coffee Table Book
Dark Wraith of Shannara
Terry Brooks
Fantasy
The Shack
William Young
Fiction: Story About Faith
Friday, September 11, 2009
Monday, September 7, 2009
Events from July into August in Kuwait
Wow! Where has the time gone? The 1st month took forever. The next month it started to speed up a little, but I was still getting my feet under me. 3 ½ months in and time is starting to fly. I can’t believe I’m already into September now. So…..what happened in July and August after the Peachtree Road Race on July 4th?
BATTLE RHYTHM
Some may have seen my posts on Facebook or just in reading this blog have seen where I refer to Battle Rhythm and are wondering what is Battle Rhythm? Think of starting a new job somewhere. You know how you spend the first month getting to know the office, getting to know co-workers, getting to know the job, etc.? It’s the same only we work here 24 hours a day 7 days a week and we’re in a different country. The assimilation into a job actually moves a little faster because of this.
My experience in the Army is in Armor (my original MOS/Branch), Armor and ROTC training operations, and the Signal Corps (my 2nd Branch). I honestly didn’t even know the Army had Space prior to this deployment. So….I’m not only dealing with being deployed overseas for a year, but I’m learning a whole new job in a whole new area. Needless to say, the learning curve has been incredibly steep.
We found out when we got here that our section put in a request for two reservists augmentees to assist with their mission from either the Signal Corps or Intelligence and with Top Secret clearances. They figured they’d had a better chance of getting a couple of smart soldiers this way. HA! The jury is still out. There is not yet a Branch for Space. It’s a functional area (FA), so Space has to pull in people from other Branches and train them in Space. On the clearance issue, Jim and I had Top Secret clearances, but no longer. They’re good for only 5 years. So, we’ve had to reapply since we’ve been here. It takes 3-6 months for the investigation.
So, we’re trying to establish a battle rhythm in a new place, learning a new job, and a new skill. For me, it all seemed to finally come together the beginning of August. That’s when I started to feel comfortable. I finally have a basic understanding of what I’m doing and what I’m supposed to be looking for. I’m a staff officer, so I don’t manage missions and troops. I do a lot of analytics
WORK –OUT RHYTHM
I thought I was doing pretty good working out 4-5 days a week before I got here. I’d improved my run time from 18 minutes for 2 miles to 16 ½ minutes. Little did I know that I wasn’t even close to what I was capable of. I set two goals when I arrived. I wanted to get down to 180 lbs and be able to max my PT test 2 mile rule. 13min 37 sec. Just to give you an idea of where I was starting from. …. I weight myself at 198 lbs in March right before I deployed. I was 192 lbs when I arrived in Kuwait.
I started first just making myself go to the gym every day, no matter what. (I took off 1 day a week to rest my body, usually Sunday.) If I couldn’t make it during lunch, I went on the evening. I cut my meal times down to 30 minutes or less to give myself more time in the gym. I first wanted to get in the habit of going every day. I wanted to get to where I’d feel bad if I didn’t get to the gym. That took about ½ a month to settle in. I then had to develop my routine.
You’ve seen in previous posts what I did with diet and work-out plan. The first month I saw results in my body hardening, but little weight drop. I weighed in at the end of June at 189 lbs. My run improved, but not a ton. I figured at this time it’d take me 3-4 months to really start seeing results. Wow! Was I off! It was like a switch went off right at the end of July. I started to fly on my run. I could see my body start to change. I kept having to cinch my belt tighter. Now, my rule was that I would only weigh myself once a month. I wanted to develop a routine, a rhythm. I didn’t want to be chasing a weight every day. Good plan! J I stepped on the scale at the end of July and weighed in at 183 lbs. I’d gotten my 2 mile run down to 13.45 for 2 miles. I’m already almost at my max time. I’m ahead of schedule.
August was where I really started to turn. I was settled into my work-out rhythm. I could feel my body changing every day. I could feel myself getting stronger. The MWR folks helped out but introducing a new short term program. They challenged us to Swim the English Channel. The shortest distance across the English Channel is from near Dover, England to Calais, France, a distance of 21.06 miles. That translates into 808 laps in the Camp Arifjan pool. The program started on August 12th. The incentive was a nice blue t-shirt and pride. Now, I thought I was a pretty good swimmer. At the beginning of August, I was swimming 18 laps a couple of times a week. HA! A mile was 38 laps! I had no idea what I was getting into. I was determined to keep up my regular work-out routine, so I’d do my normal work-out 4 days a week and swim the other 3 days or in the evenings.
Talk about watching the fat bleed off of your body. I’m wearing myself out, but I’m watching the change happen weekly. By the end of August, I could run 2 miles in less than 12.30. I can swim just short of 50 laps in an hour. The last week of August, 1st week of September, I was working out 1+ hour a day during lunch and swimming a mile every evening, so I could get done. My Space compadre, MAJ Corey Gerving, finished his swim on August 30th. I finished my on Labor Day (how appropriate right). I stepped on the scale at the end of the month last week, as is my rule, and weighed in at 178 pounds in my clothes.
REFEREE
Many of you know I referee basketball. For those of you that didn’t, I’ve worked up to high school men’s state tournament level and men’s junior college. I love basketball. I love the release I get out on the court. I was just starting to really start moving up the ranks when I got the call to deploy. I was really disappointed to have to take the year off. “Not so fast my friends”…. Camp Arifjan has a pretty robust recreation program, similar to that of a small college. I noticed the flyer one day and went to the Recreation Director to introduce myself. I found out there was a basketball tournament on the 4th of July weekend and I signed right up. I had Angela quickly ship me my gear. It was great to get back on the court! I found this also to be a great way to network on post and get to know more people. I followed up right after than into volleyball. I hadn’t done that since the University of Kentucky, but it was like riding a bike. I was lucky enough to get the championship game. I’m doing another basketball tournament through Labor Day, then flag football, and then back to the regular season for basketball during the winter. It all takes up some of the small amount of personal time I have each day, but it’s what I love. I won’t be as far behind as I’d thought for the 2010-11 season.
G31 SPACE SECTION
Now that I’ve been here 3+ months, I can talk more about the folks in my section. I’ve gotten to know them a lot better.
COL Henderson: He’s the Chief of Space and our top dog. He works in Atlanta, but has been forward for one exercise in June and now another exercise in August. He’s really tall and loves to tell jokes and stories. He keeps us going. He’s a big time horse enthusiast.
LTC Zellmann: He’s the Deputy Chief of Space and my direct supervisor. He worked as a physics instructor at West Point. He’s super sharp and tireless. He’s an absolute machine at work. He works out of Atlanta. He’s also been through for both exercises. He’s easy to talk to and doesn’t miss a thing.
MAJ Speth: Phil’s the Space officer Jim and I replaced. He’s gone back to Atlanta and he’s the lead for Space training. Phil’s one of those real attention to detail kind of officers. His work is tight. I got to know him pretty well when he was here with all the trips to Ali Al Saleem. He knows Army doctrine inside and out having worked in TRADOC.
MAJ Gerving: Corey’s been here since May, but I didn’t really start to get to know him until after the LW exercise at the beginning of June. He’s our Senior Space Officer forward. He’s here until November. He also taught physics at West Point. Super sharp, and he uses that brain power to remember everything, to include quotes from every movie he’s ever seen. Work-out partner and movie watching partner.
MAJ Kimbrell: Larry I probably know the least about. He’s been here a couple of times for the first exercise and the first week of July to fill in for Corey who went back to Atlanta for a short while for a conference. He came to Army Space from the Air Force’s missile program. He’s coming in October to replace Corey. Looking forward to getting to know him better.
SSG Holscher: The one and only NCO in our section. He’s a Signal guy (like Jim and I) specializing in SATCOM. Another super smart guy. He’s getting out of the Army in November. He’s at his 8 years. He’s already got multiple job offers. (Really good job offers) He works in Atlanta, but has been forward a couple of times now.
MAJ Jim Schultz: He’s my partner in current operations. I work the day shift right now and Jim works the night shift. We’ve been in the same place since the very first day. We mobilized at Camp McCrady on the same day and we’ve been together ever since. He’s an Arizona police officer in the “real world”. He’s married with two children.
That’s the crew! (We have a contractor in our section named Crawford Brown who I’ve only met once. I don’t know him, so I’ve got no info.) If you’d like to get to know Phil Speth, Corey Gerving, Jim Schultz, or Daniel Holscher better, they’ve got Facebook accounts. Go bug them there.
Basically a bunch of really, really smart guys. I mostly just keep my mouth shut and ears open. I’m absorbing from them everything I can as quick as I can.
COLD/H1N1
This is a big deal in the states and a really big deal in the military. Soldiers with flu symptoms are isolated, just like we do with the kids keeping them home from school. This is a major impact to operations, so as you can imagine, the top brass are really concentrating on it. I picked up what felt like a sinus infection at the beginning of August. It was concerning only because it weakened me and I did not want to pick up the flu virus. My partner Jim when down with what he originally thought was th flu for a week, but it ended up only being a sinus infection. I was concern with what was dragging on me, so I went to the TMC (medical center). I had not fever so flu got ruled out up front. So…I thought I had a regular bacterial sinus infection. The Doc said no that is was viral. Basically a cold. He prescribed Sudafed and rest. (Not much of a chance of rest. I can’t miss work or my work-out!) I wanted anti-biotic, but he wouldn’t give them to me. He said let it run its course and come back if it didn’t go away. I did not miss a day of work or a work-out, but it didn’t go away. I was still concerned because it continued to weaken me, especially at the end of the week. Two weeks later, I went back to the TMC. I got a different Doctor. He took one look at me and said….allergies. I hadn’t even thought about that. I had really bad allergy problems in Atlanta, but most of the problems went away when I moved to Florida. Good salt air! His first thing he said after examining me was that he wanted to treat this aggressively. Yeehaah! He gave me Flonase and Allegra for two months and said to come see him after that. Do you know that it started working after just 48 hours! Amazing! Apparently all the crap blowing out of Iraq through the desert into Kuwait was what was kicking my behind. I’m feeling great and I’m picking it up at work and at the gym!
TRIP TO KCIA
We don’t leave Camp Arifjan very often. We just don’t have the need to. However, every now and then we take a trip to Ali Al Saleem AFB or Kuwait International Airport (KCIA) when someone coming in needs a pick-up. I’d not had an opportunity to go to KCIA until this August. I’d only made the trip to Ali Al Saleem and Camp Buehring. I got my chance with the guys coming into Kuwait for the Lucky Strike exercise. SSG Holscher had come in with the lead element and he and I went to pick up LTC Zellmenn at KCIA. We had to change into civilian clothes, and due to a new policy that had just come out that week.
This trip was my first experience into Kuwaiti culture. First, I took a wrong turn and we ended up in a Kuwaiti neighborhood. It was what I would classify as a middle class neighborhood. Townhomes in a cul-de-sac community. They had swing sets. They had picnic tables. The cars were like any you’d see in a middle class American neighborhood. Really, the only difference was the architecture. All concrete with this sand colored stucco like finish. The second experience was in the airport itself. We didn’t want to go through a search upon running to Camp Arifjan, so I stayed with the vehicle while SSG Holscher went in to pick-up LTC Z. It was like any other bustling airport I’d ever been at only half the people coming and going wore the traditional white Arabic robes (men & boys) or the head to toe black burqa (women). Kids were still kids. They were excited and full of energy. Dads and Moms were just like us trying to keep them in tow while trying to get wherever they were going. There were the sprinklings of Europeans, American, or Middle Easterners not dressed in traditional Arabic outfits. It’s the first time I’d been in this country and actually felt like I was in a country with normal people rather than the isolated world that is a military post overseas.
LTC Z’s flight was late coming in and I had to take a leak so we switched. I got to check out the terminal. Everything was in Arabic…and English! Very interesting. The terminal was actually much cleaner and better organized than the ones I’d been to in Costa Rica, Mexico, and Turks & Caicos. We were both hungry, so we took advantage and grabbed some KFC. First KFC I’d had since early spring! (We just had to figure out how much change we’d gotten because it was all in Kuwaiti Dinars.
KIDS START SCHOOL
Audrey and Trey started 1st Grade on August 24th. I was so excited for them, but sad that I couldn’t be there to see them off. They’d had a great summer, but I know they were excited to. They love school. They love meeting people and making friends. They’re so not like me when I was a kid. J They got Ms. Patridge as their teacher. Angela sent me a picture from her camera phone right in front of school. I of course posted it right to Facebook. I’m so proud of them. Hard to believe that by the time I make it home for good they’ll be 7 years old and almost finished with 1st Grade.
LEAVE IS RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER!
OK, that brings me to here. It’s Monday, September 7th – Labor Day. I’m 191 days into the deployment (9 days short of halfway) and I’ve had 111 days “Boots on the Ground”. I’m scheduled for 15 days of leave at the end of this month. I cannot wait! I’m planning on resting, going camping with the kids, and going with my sweetie on a cruise. Man, I’m ready. I’m settled in here and in a rhythm, but no rhythm can get you over missing your loved ones. I can’t wait to take them into my arms!
BATTLE RHYTHM
Some may have seen my posts on Facebook or just in reading this blog have seen where I refer to Battle Rhythm and are wondering what is Battle Rhythm? Think of starting a new job somewhere. You know how you spend the first month getting to know the office, getting to know co-workers, getting to know the job, etc.? It’s the same only we work here 24 hours a day 7 days a week and we’re in a different country. The assimilation into a job actually moves a little faster because of this.
My experience in the Army is in Armor (my original MOS/Branch), Armor and ROTC training operations, and the Signal Corps (my 2nd Branch). I honestly didn’t even know the Army had Space prior to this deployment. So….I’m not only dealing with being deployed overseas for a year, but I’m learning a whole new job in a whole new area. Needless to say, the learning curve has been incredibly steep.
We found out when we got here that our section put in a request for two reservists augmentees to assist with their mission from either the Signal Corps or Intelligence and with Top Secret clearances. They figured they’d had a better chance of getting a couple of smart soldiers this way. HA! The jury is still out. There is not yet a Branch for Space. It’s a functional area (FA), so Space has to pull in people from other Branches and train them in Space. On the clearance issue, Jim and I had Top Secret clearances, but no longer. They’re good for only 5 years. So, we’ve had to reapply since we’ve been here. It takes 3-6 months for the investigation.
So, we’re trying to establish a battle rhythm in a new place, learning a new job, and a new skill. For me, it all seemed to finally come together the beginning of August. That’s when I started to feel comfortable. I finally have a basic understanding of what I’m doing and what I’m supposed to be looking for. I’m a staff officer, so I don’t manage missions and troops. I do a lot of analytics
WORK –OUT RHYTHM
I thought I was doing pretty good working out 4-5 days a week before I got here. I’d improved my run time from 18 minutes for 2 miles to 16 ½ minutes. Little did I know that I wasn’t even close to what I was capable of. I set two goals when I arrived. I wanted to get down to 180 lbs and be able to max my PT test 2 mile rule. 13min 37 sec. Just to give you an idea of where I was starting from. …. I weight myself at 198 lbs in March right before I deployed. I was 192 lbs when I arrived in Kuwait.
I started first just making myself go to the gym every day, no matter what. (I took off 1 day a week to rest my body, usually Sunday.) If I couldn’t make it during lunch, I went on the evening. I cut my meal times down to 30 minutes or less to give myself more time in the gym. I first wanted to get in the habit of going every day. I wanted to get to where I’d feel bad if I didn’t get to the gym. That took about ½ a month to settle in. I then had to develop my routine.
You’ve seen in previous posts what I did with diet and work-out plan. The first month I saw results in my body hardening, but little weight drop. I weighed in at the end of June at 189 lbs. My run improved, but not a ton. I figured at this time it’d take me 3-4 months to really start seeing results. Wow! Was I off! It was like a switch went off right at the end of July. I started to fly on my run. I could see my body start to change. I kept having to cinch my belt tighter. Now, my rule was that I would only weigh myself once a month. I wanted to develop a routine, a rhythm. I didn’t want to be chasing a weight every day. Good plan! J I stepped on the scale at the end of July and weighed in at 183 lbs. I’d gotten my 2 mile run down to 13.45 for 2 miles. I’m already almost at my max time. I’m ahead of schedule.
August was where I really started to turn. I was settled into my work-out rhythm. I could feel my body changing every day. I could feel myself getting stronger. The MWR folks helped out but introducing a new short term program. They challenged us to Swim the English Channel. The shortest distance across the English Channel is from near Dover, England to Calais, France, a distance of 21.06 miles. That translates into 808 laps in the Camp Arifjan pool. The program started on August 12th. The incentive was a nice blue t-shirt and pride. Now, I thought I was a pretty good swimmer. At the beginning of August, I was swimming 18 laps a couple of times a week. HA! A mile was 38 laps! I had no idea what I was getting into. I was determined to keep up my regular work-out routine, so I’d do my normal work-out 4 days a week and swim the other 3 days or in the evenings.
Talk about watching the fat bleed off of your body. I’m wearing myself out, but I’m watching the change happen weekly. By the end of August, I could run 2 miles in less than 12.30. I can swim just short of 50 laps in an hour. The last week of August, 1st week of September, I was working out 1+ hour a day during lunch and swimming a mile every evening, so I could get done. My Space compadre, MAJ Corey Gerving, finished his swim on August 30th. I finished my on Labor Day (how appropriate right). I stepped on the scale at the end of the month last week, as is my rule, and weighed in at 178 pounds in my clothes.
REFEREE
Many of you know I referee basketball. For those of you that didn’t, I’ve worked up to high school men’s state tournament level and men’s junior college. I love basketball. I love the release I get out on the court. I was just starting to really start moving up the ranks when I got the call to deploy. I was really disappointed to have to take the year off. “Not so fast my friends”…. Camp Arifjan has a pretty robust recreation program, similar to that of a small college. I noticed the flyer one day and went to the Recreation Director to introduce myself. I found out there was a basketball tournament on the 4th of July weekend and I signed right up. I had Angela quickly ship me my gear. It was great to get back on the court! I found this also to be a great way to network on post and get to know more people. I followed up right after than into volleyball. I hadn’t done that since the University of Kentucky, but it was like riding a bike. I was lucky enough to get the championship game. I’m doing another basketball tournament through Labor Day, then flag football, and then back to the regular season for basketball during the winter. It all takes up some of the small amount of personal time I have each day, but it’s what I love. I won’t be as far behind as I’d thought for the 2010-11 season.
G31 SPACE SECTION
Now that I’ve been here 3+ months, I can talk more about the folks in my section. I’ve gotten to know them a lot better.
COL Henderson: He’s the Chief of Space and our top dog. He works in Atlanta, but has been forward for one exercise in June and now another exercise in August. He’s really tall and loves to tell jokes and stories. He keeps us going. He’s a big time horse enthusiast.
LTC Zellmann: He’s the Deputy Chief of Space and my direct supervisor. He worked as a physics instructor at West Point. He’s super sharp and tireless. He’s an absolute machine at work. He works out of Atlanta. He’s also been through for both exercises. He’s easy to talk to and doesn’t miss a thing.
MAJ Speth: Phil’s the Space officer Jim and I replaced. He’s gone back to Atlanta and he’s the lead for Space training. Phil’s one of those real attention to detail kind of officers. His work is tight. I got to know him pretty well when he was here with all the trips to Ali Al Saleem. He knows Army doctrine inside and out having worked in TRADOC.
MAJ Gerving: Corey’s been here since May, but I didn’t really start to get to know him until after the LW exercise at the beginning of June. He’s our Senior Space Officer forward. He’s here until November. He also taught physics at West Point. Super sharp, and he uses that brain power to remember everything, to include quotes from every movie he’s ever seen. Work-out partner and movie watching partner.
MAJ Kimbrell: Larry I probably know the least about. He’s been here a couple of times for the first exercise and the first week of July to fill in for Corey who went back to Atlanta for a short while for a conference. He came to Army Space from the Air Force’s missile program. He’s coming in October to replace Corey. Looking forward to getting to know him better.
SSG Holscher: The one and only NCO in our section. He’s a Signal guy (like Jim and I) specializing in SATCOM. Another super smart guy. He’s getting out of the Army in November. He’s at his 8 years. He’s already got multiple job offers. (Really good job offers) He works in Atlanta, but has been forward a couple of times now.
MAJ Jim Schultz: He’s my partner in current operations. I work the day shift right now and Jim works the night shift. We’ve been in the same place since the very first day. We mobilized at Camp McCrady on the same day and we’ve been together ever since. He’s an Arizona police officer in the “real world”. He’s married with two children.
That’s the crew! (We have a contractor in our section named Crawford Brown who I’ve only met once. I don’t know him, so I’ve got no info.) If you’d like to get to know Phil Speth, Corey Gerving, Jim Schultz, or Daniel Holscher better, they’ve got Facebook accounts. Go bug them there.
Basically a bunch of really, really smart guys. I mostly just keep my mouth shut and ears open. I’m absorbing from them everything I can as quick as I can.
COLD/H1N1
This is a big deal in the states and a really big deal in the military. Soldiers with flu symptoms are isolated, just like we do with the kids keeping them home from school. This is a major impact to operations, so as you can imagine, the top brass are really concentrating on it. I picked up what felt like a sinus infection at the beginning of August. It was concerning only because it weakened me and I did not want to pick up the flu virus. My partner Jim when down with what he originally thought was th flu for a week, but it ended up only being a sinus infection. I was concern with what was dragging on me, so I went to the TMC (medical center). I had not fever so flu got ruled out up front. So…I thought I had a regular bacterial sinus infection. The Doc said no that is was viral. Basically a cold. He prescribed Sudafed and rest. (Not much of a chance of rest. I can’t miss work or my work-out!) I wanted anti-biotic, but he wouldn’t give them to me. He said let it run its course and come back if it didn’t go away. I did not miss a day of work or a work-out, but it didn’t go away. I was still concerned because it continued to weaken me, especially at the end of the week. Two weeks later, I went back to the TMC. I got a different Doctor. He took one look at me and said….allergies. I hadn’t even thought about that. I had really bad allergy problems in Atlanta, but most of the problems went away when I moved to Florida. Good salt air! His first thing he said after examining me was that he wanted to treat this aggressively. Yeehaah! He gave me Flonase and Allegra for two months and said to come see him after that. Do you know that it started working after just 48 hours! Amazing! Apparently all the crap blowing out of Iraq through the desert into Kuwait was what was kicking my behind. I’m feeling great and I’m picking it up at work and at the gym!
TRIP TO KCIA
We don’t leave Camp Arifjan very often. We just don’t have the need to. However, every now and then we take a trip to Ali Al Saleem AFB or Kuwait International Airport (KCIA) when someone coming in needs a pick-up. I’d not had an opportunity to go to KCIA until this August. I’d only made the trip to Ali Al Saleem and Camp Buehring. I got my chance with the guys coming into Kuwait for the Lucky Strike exercise. SSG Holscher had come in with the lead element and he and I went to pick up LTC Zellmenn at KCIA. We had to change into civilian clothes, and due to a new policy that had just come out that week.
This trip was my first experience into Kuwaiti culture. First, I took a wrong turn and we ended up in a Kuwaiti neighborhood. It was what I would classify as a middle class neighborhood. Townhomes in a cul-de-sac community. They had swing sets. They had picnic tables. The cars were like any you’d see in a middle class American neighborhood. Really, the only difference was the architecture. All concrete with this sand colored stucco like finish. The second experience was in the airport itself. We didn’t want to go through a search upon running to Camp Arifjan, so I stayed with the vehicle while SSG Holscher went in to pick-up LTC Z. It was like any other bustling airport I’d ever been at only half the people coming and going wore the traditional white Arabic robes (men & boys) or the head to toe black burqa (women). Kids were still kids. They were excited and full of energy. Dads and Moms were just like us trying to keep them in tow while trying to get wherever they were going. There were the sprinklings of Europeans, American, or Middle Easterners not dressed in traditional Arabic outfits. It’s the first time I’d been in this country and actually felt like I was in a country with normal people rather than the isolated world that is a military post overseas.
LTC Z’s flight was late coming in and I had to take a leak so we switched. I got to check out the terminal. Everything was in Arabic…and English! Very interesting. The terminal was actually much cleaner and better organized than the ones I’d been to in Costa Rica, Mexico, and Turks & Caicos. We were both hungry, so we took advantage and grabbed some KFC. First KFC I’d had since early spring! (We just had to figure out how much change we’d gotten because it was all in Kuwaiti Dinars.
KIDS START SCHOOL
Audrey and Trey started 1st Grade on August 24th. I was so excited for them, but sad that I couldn’t be there to see them off. They’d had a great summer, but I know they were excited to. They love school. They love meeting people and making friends. They’re so not like me when I was a kid. J They got Ms. Patridge as their teacher. Angela sent me a picture from her camera phone right in front of school. I of course posted it right to Facebook. I’m so proud of them. Hard to believe that by the time I make it home for good they’ll be 7 years old and almost finished with 1st Grade.
LEAVE IS RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER!
OK, that brings me to here. It’s Monday, September 7th – Labor Day. I’m 191 days into the deployment (9 days short of halfway) and I’ve had 111 days “Boots on the Ground”. I’m scheduled for 15 days of leave at the end of this month. I cannot wait! I’m planning on resting, going camping with the kids, and going with my sweetie on a cruise. Man, I’m ready. I’m settled in here and in a rhythm, but no rhythm can get you over missing your loved ones. I can’t wait to take them into my arms!
Thursday, August 6, 2009
The next couple of weeks were just dedicated to settling in. Imagine picking up your entire life, packing it into 4 suitcases, moving to a foreign country, and living out of those 4 suitcases while trying to learn a new job. Oh, and no runs down to the local pub to blow off steam. It makes every day interesting. It really, really sucks living in an open bay barracks with no idea when I’m getting permanent housing. It’s not so much the open bay, but the fact that I could be moving any day, so I can’t unpack. I can’t put up the drawings done by my kids or leave out my computer. Everything has to be tucked away each day I leave for work. Also, lights are only on from 1700-2200. A lot of people work shifts, so you’ve got to be quiet and respectful.
Now, the really interesting adventure in the barracks had to do with post housing deciding to “upgrade” our bay. A couple of the many bays in our building, the “I” building, have these cubicle types of partitions that separate each set of bunks. Essentially, every two people get a little private area in the bay. They decided to install these partitions in our bay. For the better part of 3 days, they installed them. Most of the time in the afternoon, but Sunday they decided to start about 0800. I’m glad I was already getting up to go to church! When they started on Friday, I noticed this odor and my eyes would burn when I lay down in my bunk. I was exhausted and the sand was blowing around, so I just crashed and didn’t think anything about it on Friday and Saturday. By Sunday, it was really starting to bother me. I spoke with a couple of the other guys in the bay and they said the same thing. One guy said it felt like CS burning. I went to the housing office and reported it that afternoon. They had the fire department come through soon after that. They walked through the building and then left. Guess what they decided to do? They pulled the fire alarm around 2130 hours, right before I was getting ready to crash. I wasn’t thinking, and I threw on some shorts and my flip flops. I stood outside for about an hour and watched the fire fighters go through the building. They taped off a perimeter. A few more “official looking” people came in. I went over to the gym and watched the NASCAR race with some other soldiers. About midnight, they decided they weren’t going to clear the building for reentry until the entry until morning, and everyone needed to go across post and stay in the tent housing. I was in a t-shirt and flip flops. I got luck and I ran into CW4 Kono. He works right behind me in the command center. He had a car and drove me over to the tents. He gave me a pillow, sheets, and blanket, which was a god send. I crashed in these open tents in a bunk with the lights on. I think I slept about 3-4 fitful hours with all the other folks coming in and out. Chief Kono had agreed to pick me up at 0900. I had nothing to take a shower with or even brush my teeth. I obviously called into work and told them I’d be a little late for my shift. Chief picked me up and took me back over to my building. They still had it closed. They let me
go in to get shower supplies and my uniform, but I had to go over to the gym to shower. The “experts” were in our bay testing the air. In fact, they were right next to my bunk. Apparently, I was at the epicenter. They about 10 people running around trying to figure it out. I stood there as I gather up my stuff and told them the problem had started when they installed the partitions. It was like light bulbs started going off everywhere. Man…I could have told them the night before. They let everyone back in the building about an hour later, except for those of us in that bay. We had to gather up all our gear and move. Pain in the ass! I finally got over to work about noon.
I got to take a 3rd trip off post to Ali Al Salem Air Base. Phil Speth and I went to meet up with the guys coming back from the Space Conference. They’d left all their gear at Camp Arifjan while then went to Qatar to the conference. We took all the stuff up to Ali Al Salem to synch up before they headed back to Atlanta. We had quite an adventure going from the Army side of Ali Al Salem to the Air Force side and back to the Army Side. It’s all the same air base, but you’ve got to go on and off and through check points each time. The Army side didn’t like the stamp the Air Force side had put on our secure to secure paperwork and we had sit around for a “higher up” to decide that one Colonel, one Lieutenant Colonel, and 4 Majors that had just been at the
Air Force part of the post 5 minutes earlier weren’t a threat. Typical military security snafus. The crew we were transporting was COL Henderson, the ARCENT Chief of Space, LTC Zellmann, the Deputy (and my boss), MAJ Kimbrell, ARCENT Space Ops, and MAJ Gardner, 1st Space BDE reservist here for the exercise and conference. All stuffed into an SUV with Phil Speth and myself. Needless to say it was interesting. COL Henderson has a quick wit and he had all of laughing while packed into the car like sardines. It was a pretty funny site. Phil and I dropped them off and headed back to Camp Arifjan. We got back around 11.00pm.
I’m starting to settle in more. The job is getting easier. I’ve developed a schedule for each day. The work-out and new diet is starting to work. I refuse to step on a scale, because I don’t believe in weight watching. I like to set goals and go after them. I’d rather just check myself once a month to see how I’m doing and not every day. My goal is to get in great shape and get my weight down below 180. I realized early here that they feed us to well. It’s way too easy to feed your face at the DFAC (chow hall) each day. I stop the TCNs (Third Country Nationals) who work at the DFAC from giving me the normal portions. I try to just get half portions. It took me a month or so to figure out what was available at the DFAC, but I’ve got a system down.
Here’s my typical weekly diet.
Concentration on the Following….
- Protein
- Low Carbs
- Fruit
- Smaller Portions
Breakfast
Scrambled Eggs, Omelet or Boiled Eggs
Hash Brown
Bacon, Ham or Sausage
3-4 Pieces of Fruit (Cantaloupe, Honey Dew Melon, Watermelon, Strawberries)
Gatorade
Snack
Peanuts or Nutra Grain Bar
Lunch
Tuna Salad, Egg Salad, Chicken Salad or Deli Sandwich or Taco Salad
Chips or Noodles
Jell-O or Pudding
Gatorade
Snack
Piece of Fruit
Dinner
Meat, Fish or Wrap
Vegetable
Salad
Pudding or Pie
The two big events (to me) for the months of June/July are my birthday on June 27th and the Kuwait version of the Peachtree Road Race. My birthday was no big deal to everyone else here, but it’s huge to me. The weekend of the 26th, 27th, and 28th was supposed to be the big weekend for my 40th birthday party down in Destin. I’d been planning the thing for about 5 months when I’d gotten orders to deploy. Postponed! Not cancelled! However, it was kind of a bummer to finally get to this date, and here I was in wonderfully hot Kuwait with no cocktails surrounded by people I barely knew. The nice thing was so many people back home reached out to me. I got tons of birthday wishes from friends on Facebook and Plaxo. I get birthday wishes via email and cards. I got some really nice packages from my family. Thank you to all of you. It made it all a little bit easier. I’m 40 years old now! (I did get to meet Wee Man of Jackass fame. Picture above. He signed my picture wishing me Happy Birthday. :)
Anyway, back to the run. The race is scheduled for 0500 on July 4th. I ran a 5K the weekend before my birthday and did pretty well. I’m definitely getting better. I found out that our Deputy Commanding General (DCG) is a big runner. MAJ Corey Gerving is the Senior Space Ops officer that is replacing MAJ Phil Speth. We’ve been getting to know each other. We were talking about the DCG at the morning shift change brief one morning being such a good runner. I told Corey I was running in the 10K race. He bet me a pizza I couldn’t beat the DCG in the 10K. Now, I’m 40 years old. The DCG is 51 years old. But….he works out like a fiend every day! Surely I can beat him right?
The day of the race came. There are a couple of significant things to report before I talk about the race. First, when I signed up for the race on the 23rd of June, I was given number 40 as the 40th person to sign up. How random is that? I then found out the morning of the race that this was the 40th running of the Peachtree Road Race. Now, this race in Kuwait is actually officially a
part of the race in Atlanta. We’re timed group #12 and our results are sent back to Atlanta to include with theirs. Anyway, how about that for a sign! 40, 40, 40. I’m no Jose Canseco or Barry Bonds, but I’m part of my own 40-40-40 club! I can only see this as a sign that somebody wanted me here! J One more event that played into this weekend. I got my room assignment on Wed. I moved all afternoon and evening on Thursday. This was significant, because I actually got a good night’s sleep on Friday night before the race! My roommate is no here on Camp Arifjan. I’m not sure where he is, but I’m not complaining. I’ve got a room to myself right now.
On to the race….nice set-up, much like the one in Atlanta. Lots of energy and enthusiasm. They had music blasting and tones of volunteers. My unit, USARCENT, is based in Atlanta, so we’ve
got a lot of people that are familiar with this race. The only thing really missing were the Atlanteans along the road handing out beer! There actually were some runners that dressed in costume just like they do in Atlanta. Anyway, the gun went off and there we went. I started out pretty fast, but the DCG took off like a rocket. I thought to myself “Oh Crap!”. He was fast, and I couldn’t keep up. My goal was to try to run in 48 minutes or less, so I just settled into my pace and let the race happen how it was going to happen. I did really well for the first 3-4 miles (5Ks). I was on pace. But…I started to tire. I started falling off pace by 10-20 sec for KS 6,7,8. However, much to my surprise, the DCG started slowing down more. I began to reel him in. I caught and passed him at 7 Ks. Now I just wanted to stay focused and get as close to my goals as I could. I knew I wasn’t going to get 48 min, but maybe I could make up some seconds at the end. I did have some energy left (a little) and picked up the pace over the last K. I ran it as fast as I’d run the first. I finished the race in 51 minutes flat. I beat the DCG by almost a minute. I was very pleased. I ran pretty well, and now I have a baseline to work up from. J (Though the race did whip my behind. I was a wet noodle at work that day.)
This pretty much sums up June and the beginning of July. I’ll check in again soon!
Now, the really interesting adventure in the barracks had to do with post housing deciding to “upgrade” our bay. A couple of the many bays in our building, the “I” building, have these cubicle types of partitions that separate each set of bunks. Essentially, every two people get a little private area in the bay. They decided to install these partitions in our bay. For the better part of 3 days, they installed them. Most of the time in the afternoon, but Sunday they decided to start about 0800. I’m glad I was already getting up to go to church! When they started on Friday, I noticed this odor and my eyes would burn when I lay down in my bunk. I was exhausted and the sand was blowing around, so I just crashed and didn’t think anything about it on Friday and Saturday. By Sunday, it was really starting to bother me. I spoke with a couple of the other guys in the bay and they said the same thing. One guy said it felt like CS burning. I went to the housing office and reported it that afternoon. They had the fire department come through soon after that. They walked through the building and then left. Guess what they decided to do? They pulled the fire alarm around 2130 hours, right before I was getting ready to crash. I wasn’t thinking, and I threw on some shorts and my flip flops. I stood outside for about an hour and watched the fire fighters go through the building. They taped off a perimeter. A few more “official looking” people came in. I went over to the gym and watched the NASCAR race with some other soldiers. About midnight, they decided they weren’t going to clear the building for reentry until the entry until morning, and everyone needed to go across post and stay in the tent housing. I was in a t-shirt and flip flops. I got luck and I ran into CW4 Kono. He works right behind me in the command center. He had a car and drove me over to the tents. He gave me a pillow, sheets, and blanket, which was a god send. I crashed in these open tents in a bunk with the lights on. I think I slept about 3-4 fitful hours with all the other folks coming in and out. Chief Kono had agreed to pick me up at 0900. I had nothing to take a shower with or even brush my teeth. I obviously called into work and told them I’d be a little late for my shift. Chief picked me up and took me back over to my building. They still had it closed. They let me
go in to get shower supplies and my uniform, but I had to go over to the gym to shower. The “experts” were in our bay testing the air. In fact, they were right next to my bunk. Apparently, I was at the epicenter. They about 10 people running around trying to figure it out. I stood there as I gather up my stuff and told them the problem had started when they installed the partitions. It was like light bulbs started going off everywhere. Man…I could have told them the night before. They let everyone back in the building about an hour later, except for those of us in that bay. We had to gather up all our gear and move. Pain in the ass! I finally got over to work about noon.I got to take a 3rd trip off post to Ali Al Salem Air Base. Phil Speth and I went to meet up with the guys coming back from the Space Conference. They’d left all their gear at Camp Arifjan while then went to Qatar to the conference. We took all the stuff up to Ali Al Salem to synch up before they headed back to Atlanta. We had quite an adventure going from the Army side of Ali Al Salem to the Air Force side and back to the Army Side. It’s all the same air base, but you’ve got to go on and off and through check points each time. The Army side didn’t like the stamp the Air Force side had put on our secure to secure paperwork and we had sit around for a “higher up” to decide that one Colonel, one Lieutenant Colonel, and 4 Majors that had just been at the
Air Force part of the post 5 minutes earlier weren’t a threat. Typical military security snafus. The crew we were transporting was COL Henderson, the ARCENT Chief of Space, LTC Zellmann, the Deputy (and my boss), MAJ Kimbrell, ARCENT Space Ops, and MAJ Gardner, 1st Space BDE reservist here for the exercise and conference. All stuffed into an SUV with Phil Speth and myself. Needless to say it was interesting. COL Henderson has a quick wit and he had all of laughing while packed into the car like sardines. It was a pretty funny site. Phil and I dropped them off and headed back to Camp Arifjan. We got back around 11.00pm.I’m starting to settle in more. The job is getting easier. I’ve developed a schedule for each day. The work-out and new diet is starting to work. I refuse to step on a scale, because I don’t believe in weight watching. I like to set goals and go after them. I’d rather just check myself once a month to see how I’m doing and not every day. My goal is to get in great shape and get my weight down below 180. I realized early here that they feed us to well. It’s way too easy to feed your face at the DFAC (chow hall) each day. I stop the TCNs (Third Country Nationals) who work at the DFAC from giving me the normal portions. I try to just get half portions. It took me a month or so to figure out what was available at the DFAC, but I’ve got a system down.
Here’s my typical weekly diet.
Concentration on the Following….
- Protein
- Low Carbs
- Fruit
- Smaller Portions
Breakfast
Scrambled Eggs, Omelet or Boiled Eggs
Hash Brown
Bacon, Ham or Sausage
3-4 Pieces of Fruit (Cantaloupe, Honey Dew Melon, Watermelon, Strawberries)
Gatorade
Snack
Peanuts or Nutra Grain Bar
Lunch
Tuna Salad, Egg Salad, Chicken Salad or Deli Sandwich or Taco Salad
Chips or Noodles
Jell-O or Pudding
Gatorade
Snack
Piece of Fruit
Dinner
Meat, Fish or Wrap
Vegetable
Salad
Pudding or Pie
Tea or Soda
Camp Arifjan is divided into multiple zones. There does not look like they have zones for any organizational purpose, but rather just added to them according to need. I currently live in Zone 1 in the “I” Building. I work in Zone 2 in Bldg 505. I hope to move to permanent housing in Bldg 507, right around the corner from my work soon. There is a DFAC in Zone 1 called The Oasis. It’s run by the Kuwaitis. There’s a DFAC in Zone 2 run by us. Zone 2’s DFAC is much better! The Oasis is nicer and you get to eat with real silverware, but the food is nowhere near as good. The Zone 2 DFAC is in trailers rather than a permanent building and you eat with plastic silverware (not good for always over cooked steaks), but the food quality and selection is
so much better. Also, Zone 1 is where the movie theater, big PX, and gyms are. There’s a Zone 6 where the tent city is located for more temporary personnel and it has the biggest PX. I don’t venture down there yet. I’m still figuring out Zone 1 and Zone 2.
When or if I ever get a room, I’ll probably become just a Zone 2 person. I got a bike from MWR. I figure a bike will be good to ride to and from Zones to work-out and to go to the movies. It’s a pretty nice mountain bike. You sign them out. You just have to take them back one a month for maintenance and cleaning. They give you a helmet, lock, and lights on the bike for night ridding. I’ve not ridden a bike for years!
Father’s Day came and went. It was sort of a sad day, because I wasn’t with my kids, but I got to talk to them and Ang. I’ve realized that I’ve got to steel myself. I’m here and I’m not going home till September or leave. It’s part of what soldiers go through. You can’t let the separation get you down. You have to develop a rhythm, a daily system so that you can click the days off. You can’t dwell on what you don’t have. You have to concentrate on doing the job and moving on to the next day. I’m starting to settle in. I can feel myself hardening emotionally. I don’t like it, but I know it’s necessary. I’ve been through separation with the military, but never anything quite like this. This is really something new for me, and I’ve realized something new for Ang and the kids. We’re all cooping. For now, I’m really concentrating on my rhythm, so I can settle in and Ang won’t worry about me. That’s really the takeaway from my Father’s Day. Perspective….being away from family and friends on important holidays really helps you to appreciate better what you have.
Camp Arifjan is divided into multiple zones. There does not look like they have zones for any organizational purpose, but rather just added to them according to need. I currently live in Zone 1 in the “I” Building. I work in Zone 2 in Bldg 505. I hope to move to permanent housing in Bldg 507, right around the corner from my work soon. There is a DFAC in Zone 1 called The Oasis. It’s run by the Kuwaitis. There’s a DFAC in Zone 2 run by us. Zone 2’s DFAC is much better! The Oasis is nicer and you get to eat with real silverware, but the food is nowhere near as good. The Zone 2 DFAC is in trailers rather than a permanent building and you eat with plastic silverware (not good for always over cooked steaks), but the food quality and selection is
so much better. Also, Zone 1 is where the movie theater, big PX, and gyms are. There’s a Zone 6 where the tent city is located for more temporary personnel and it has the biggest PX. I don’t venture down there yet. I’m still figuring out Zone 1 and Zone 2.When or if I ever get a room, I’ll probably become just a Zone 2 person. I got a bike from MWR. I figure a bike will be good to ride to and from Zones to work-out and to go to the movies. It’s a pretty nice mountain bike. You sign them out. You just have to take them back one a month for maintenance and cleaning. They give you a helmet, lock, and lights on the bike for night ridding. I’ve not ridden a bike for years!
Father’s Day came and went. It was sort of a sad day, because I wasn’t with my kids, but I got to talk to them and Ang. I’ve realized that I’ve got to steel myself. I’m here and I’m not going home till September or leave. It’s part of what soldiers go through. You can’t let the separation get you down. You have to develop a rhythm, a daily system so that you can click the days off. You can’t dwell on what you don’t have. You have to concentrate on doing the job and moving on to the next day. I’m starting to settle in. I can feel myself hardening emotionally. I don’t like it, but I know it’s necessary. I’ve been through separation with the military, but never anything quite like this. This is really something new for me, and I’ve realized something new for Ang and the kids. We’re all cooping. For now, I’m really concentrating on my rhythm, so I can settle in and Ang won’t worry about me. That’s really the takeaway from my Father’s Day. Perspective….being away from family and friends on important holidays really helps you to appreciate better what you have.
The two big events (to me) for the months of June/July are my birthday on June 27th and the Kuwait version of the Peachtree Road Race. My birthday was no big deal to everyone else here, but it’s huge to me. The weekend of the 26th, 27th, and 28th was supposed to be the big weekend for my 40th birthday party down in Destin. I’d been planning the thing for about 5 months when I’d gotten orders to deploy. Postponed! Not cancelled! However, it was kind of a bummer to finally get to this date, and here I was in wonderfully hot Kuwait with no cocktails surrounded by people I barely knew. The nice thing was so many people back home reached out to me. I got tons of birthday wishes from friends on Facebook and Plaxo. I get birthday wishes via email and cards. I got some really nice packages from my family. Thank you to all of you. It made it all a little bit easier. I’m 40 years old now! (I did get to meet Wee Man of Jackass fame. Picture above. He signed my picture wishing me Happy Birthday. :)Anyway, back to the run. The race is scheduled for 0500 on July 4th. I ran a 5K the weekend before my birthday and did pretty well. I’m definitely getting better. I found out that our Deputy Commanding General (DCG) is a big runner. MAJ Corey Gerving is the Senior Space Ops officer that is replacing MAJ Phil Speth. We’ve been getting to know each other. We were talking about the DCG at the morning shift change brief one morning being such a good runner. I told Corey I was running in the 10K race. He bet me a pizza I couldn’t beat the DCG in the 10K. Now, I’m 40 years old. The DCG is 51 years old. But….he works out like a fiend every day! Surely I can beat him right?
The day of the race came. There are a couple of significant things to report before I talk about the race. First, when I signed up for the race on the 23rd of June, I was given number 40 as the 40th person to sign up. How random is that? I then found out the morning of the race that this was the 40th running of the Peachtree Road Race. Now, this race in Kuwait is actually officially a
part of the race in Atlanta. We’re timed group #12 and our results are sent back to Atlanta to include with theirs. Anyway, how about that for a sign! 40, 40, 40. I’m no Jose Canseco or Barry Bonds, but I’m part of my own 40-40-40 club! I can only see this as a sign that somebody wanted me here! J One more event that played into this weekend. I got my room assignment on Wed. I moved all afternoon and evening on Thursday. This was significant, because I actually got a good night’s sleep on Friday night before the race! My roommate is no here on Camp Arifjan. I’m not sure where he is, but I’m not complaining. I’ve got a room to myself right now.On to the race….nice set-up, much like the one in Atlanta. Lots of energy and enthusiasm. They had music blasting and tones of volunteers. My unit, USARCENT, is based in Atlanta, so we’ve
got a lot of people that are familiar with this race. The only thing really missing were the Atlanteans along the road handing out beer! There actually were some runners that dressed in costume just like they do in Atlanta. Anyway, the gun went off and there we went. I started out pretty fast, but the DCG took off like a rocket. I thought to myself “Oh Crap!”. He was fast, and I couldn’t keep up. My goal was to try to run in 48 minutes or less, so I just settled into my pace and let the race happen how it was going to happen. I did really well for the first 3-4 miles (5Ks). I was on pace. But…I started to tire. I started falling off pace by 10-20 sec for KS 6,7,8. However, much to my surprise, the DCG started slowing down more. I began to reel him in. I caught and passed him at 7 Ks. Now I just wanted to stay focused and get as close to my goals as I could. I knew I wasn’t going to get 48 min, but maybe I could make up some seconds at the end. I did have some energy left (a little) and picked up the pace over the last K. I ran it as fast as I’d run the first. I finished the race in 51 minutes flat. I beat the DCG by almost a minute. I was very pleased. I ran pretty well, and now I have a baseline to work up from. J (Though the race did whip my behind. I was a wet noodle at work that day.)This pretty much sums up June and the beginning of July. I’ll check in again soon!
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Guest Post: CPT Chris Myers from Afghanistan!
This is a guest post from a friend I made while mobilizing. CPT Myers and I trained together at Ft. Gordon Signal school. This....is a great post! When I saw it, I had to share it with those 2 or 3 of you that read my blog. :) I asked and Chris agreed to be a guest blogger for us today. CPT Chris Myers is an Army Reserve IRR soldier like myself. In civilian life, he's an English teacher in San Fransico. Enjoy!
10 July 2009Kabul, Afghanistan
Greetings, all, from beautiful downtown Kabul. Yes, after over three months of inprocessing, integration and training in Georgia and Indiana, my deployment proper has finally begun. I am stationed here at Camp Phoenix, which (at the moment, anyways) will be my home for the next nine months or so. Phoenix, as some of you may know, is a mythical bird that self-immolates and then regenerates itself from the ashes—in a sense continually rebuilding itself out of dust. In a secondary sense, Phoenix also refers to a city in Arizona, best known for its scorching dry heat and population of displaced, disgruntled Republicans. Under either definition, the Camp Phoenix designator is appropriate.
In the limited communications I’ve had with some of you since my arrival, one word keeps resurfacing as a descriptor: surreal. Despite being in a warzone, I cannot write that I miss the honkytonks, Dairy Queens and Seven-Elevens, considering there is a Pizza Hut, Dairy Queen and faux-Starbucks here on base—the latter serving a mean spiced chai triple espresso. Surreal. There are salsa lessons offered every Thursday night, sandwiched between karaoke Wednesdays and Hip-Hop Fridays. Surreal. I am living in a wooden hut with five other officers, across the street from the Romanians and next to the French contingent, which has built a small windmill amidst their barracks. Surreal. I currently have a job title for a position that does not officially exist. Surreal. The on-base, bi-weekly, local national bazaar offers gold lame Aladdin slippers with curled toes for three dollars. I am un chien Andalusia. As the time slowly melts away, here’s the latest from this edge of the world.
> You may find yourself living in a shotgun shack / You may find yourself in another part of the worldThe first leg of our journey to the East began as we left Camp Atterbury, flying out of Indianapolis International Airport. Our transportation was a commercial jet, serviced by Omni Air International (the Wal-Mart brand of international carriers). Given that the flight was not full to capacity, I was sharing a row of three with only one other person. The center seat of our row was reserved for our excess gear, to include our M9 pistols, while our M4 rifles lay on the floor beneath the seats—“with muzzles pointed toward the aisle” as the attendant casually announced over the speaker (Surreal.) Sharing my row was a fellow IRR captain who I work with regularly out here, and who has crafted his bitterness into something of an art form (he was called back a mere six months after getting out). As we taxied the runway out of Indianapolis, he mentioned to me that he was going to get up mid-flight, start waving around his pistol and screaming madly, eventually busting a window and sending us all to a fiery death. I told him it would be something to be part of an international incident like that, and to wake me up before he did it so, on the off chance I survived, I could attest to the tortured souls of the IRR recalls on Larry King Live. Alas, he chickened out and I spent most of the 23 hours in flight sleeping, waking up only for our mandatory fuel stops and a breakfast meal that resembled cat food on a sponge and tasted much the same. We had layovers at airports in Shannon, Ireland (pleasant) and Bucharest, Romania (less so) before finally landing at Manas Air Base in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan.
We stayed at Manas for three days before completing our final leg into Afghanistan. Kyrgyzstan grabbed some headline space last month, when its president was threatening to force out the U.S., unhappy with our continued presence in using the country as a staging base for the escalating conflict in Afghanistan. This threat dissipated after the U.S. renegotiated our land lease with the Kyrgyz government, agreeing to pay more than three times our current $17 million annual rent, as well as an additional $60+ million for other Kyrgyz projects, illustrating that at least the government’s stimulus package is working in places like Kyrgyzstan.
Other than that recent turn in the news cycle spotlight, the only other claim to fame that Kyrgyzstan holds is, of course, The Great Vowel Pogrom. Back in the late 12th-Century, the Mongol Invasion led to a mass exodus of vowels from the country, resulting in a hostile, consonant-led dictatorship that is still firmly entrenched today. Threatened with violence that included the flogging of their serifs and amputation of their ligatures, the vowels fled the country en masse during the 1180s, seeking sanctuary in the remote mountains of neighboring Kazakhstan and Tajikistan. The traitorous Ys overran the country, burning entire villages of Es, Is and, occasionally the wayward Js, who were sometimes accused of being pro-vowel sympathizers. Numerous vowels relocated to Scandinavia, where they flourished after cleverly disguising themselves with umlauts, breves and other diacritical camouflage. Another sect of Kyrgyz Vowel refugees established themselves in Great Britain, where then blended in seamlessly (if needlessly) in words like colour, humour and cheque. Still others can be found in the United States, where a pocket of vowels with Kyrgyz decent settled in Fon du Lac, Wisconsin. They frequently visit the Wisconsin Dells, enjoying the fried cheese curd, as well as matinee performances of Tommy Bartlett’s Ski and Sky Show.
> You may find yourself in a beautiful house with a beautiful wife. On Tuesday, June 16, we departed Manas via military aircraft (a C-17, for those who know military aircraft…or who like to make SnapTite models) and flew into Afghanistan, arriving to Camp Phoenix that night. It did not go unnoticed that, as I was aboard the aircraft, proceedings were taking place a few time zones west of me and, by the time I landed in Kabul, I had gained a brother-in-law. (Yes, I know this may be the least romantic, least poetic way ever to describe a wedding. One should note, however, that there’s a reason there has never been a film or poem called “Honeymoon in Afghanistan.” Regardless, congratulations Melissa and Tom. You are now obligated to build a small wooden house in the woods of Northern California, so that if I ever have kids, I can take them to Uncle Tom’s Cabin).
Enroute to the camp from the airport, our driver shared this bit of trivia. This could be fact, legend or an over-embellished truth, but it has been repeated since my arrival here and, even if it’s complete BS, it still makes a good story: Apparently Camp Phoenix is “one of the safest bases in Afghanistan,” according to the driver, having gone almost two years without an attack. It seems that in 2007, the camp was attacked with indirect mortar fire. The local warlord—a supporter of the troops here—was incensed at the attack and ordered the perpetrators to be found. They were, and when they were, they were skinned alive and their families slaughtered. Since then, there has not been an attack on Camp Phoenix. Fact or fiction, it’s fair to assume that, right now, every death penalty proponent is licking his or her lips, wondering where the Tim Robbins/Sean Penn movie is dramatizing that account.
Our first few days at Camp Phoenix were filled with the joys of the ever-ubiquitous PowerPoint briefings, proving that if the world ever ends, only the cockroach and the Army PowerPoint brief will survive the Armageddon. Most of these briefings were tedious and repetitive, but one bears special mention as the most-discussed of the lot, as it featured the Army’s official policy on sex while deployed in theater. Usually, when the Army is against something, they put out the information in no uncertain terms. For example, General Order Number One whilst deployed can be summarized simply as “Don’t drink any alcohol,” followed by a litany of “or else” punishments that make mandated sobriety seem a rather obvious choice. Sex, on the other hand, isn’t quite as verboten, though the Powers That Be have found a way to make sure you can’t enjoy the otherwise pleasurable act of copulation without first wading through a morass of governmental litigious red tape. So I don’t misrepresent the policy, here is a summary, courtesy of Military Times:
“The new regulation warns that sex in a combat zone 'can have an adverse impact on unit cohesion, morale, good order and discipline.'
But sexual relations and physical intimacy between men and women not married to each other are no longer banned outright. They're only 'highly discouraged,' and that's as long as they're 'not otherwise prohibited' by the Uniform Code of Military Justice, according to the new order.
Single men and women can now also visit each other's living quarters, as long as everyone else who lives there agrees, and as long as visitors of the opposite sex remain in the open 'and not behind closed doors, partitions or other isolated or segregated areas,' according to the new regulation.”
Now, note that it doesn’t simply say “No sex while deployed,” so there’s a loophole there that absolutely no one could miss. Rereading the policy, however, more than implies that, Yes, you can have sex in your room, so long as you keep the door open and no one in the room minds watching you get it on. Essentially, you can read this as the Army endorsing exhibitionism and voyeurism, and considering what is NOT explicitly stated in the policy, that may be just the tip of the…uh, iceberg. Frankly, this is the kinkiest thing the Army has done since Lyndie England’s pyramid of naked detainees. The only downside to this pseudo Free Love doctrine is that the pool of people you could potentially couple with all look like they are deployed in a warzone in the middle of Afghanistan. To paraphrase an earlier reference, you don’t see many pornos titled “Army MILFs: The Afghanistan Mission.” Sex may be permissible, but—much like seeing a Dane Cook movie—just because you can, doesn’t mean you have to.
> You may ask yourself, “How do I work this?” / You may ask yourself, “Where is my beautiful house?”As a base that I will be calling home for the foreseeable future, Camp Phoenix is not bad. Comparable in many ways to Camp Victory in Iraq (albeit on a much smaller scale), Camp Phoenix has its share of creature comforts to remind us all of home (though, ironically, these touches also amplify how far from home we really are). Geographically, the camp is rather small, though it is in the process of expanding to accommodate the influx of troops. Much like a city that branches toward suburban sprawl, each section of the camp has its own urbane nickname. When we first got here, I was staying in a 20-man tent in part of the camp’s nascent “Northern Expansion,” a part of the camp that is being developed to house upwards of 1,000 troops. I have since moved to the East Side, located between the French compound—which they have christened Quartier Layfayette—and the Romanian section—which, to my knowledge, does not have a chic name, though does have a makeshift tavern that serves beer. (*Not to American soldiers, though. See General Order Number One.) My eventual goal is to get into LegoLand, a series of hardened single rooms, structured in such a way that they resemble a geometric block of Lego-like housing. As noted, my current living situation is not bad, as I have only five roommates, all of whom are senior officers and easy to get along with. It is a wooden building (a shack, really) with air conditioning and electricity. Ventilation leaves something to be desired, however, and I note this only because at the end of each day as we settle into our beds, the entire room assumes the unpleasant aroma of dust and feet. For good reason, the Glade people don’t market a “Dust & Feet” potpourri spray (“At last--the fresh scent of foot fungus and Middle East dirt!”), so if you are jonesing for care package ideas, a cardboard tree air freshener would be welcome. Like, REALLY welcome.
Not to digress into bathroom humor, but inevitably someone asks about our bathroom accommodations here in the middle of nowhere. There are trailers set up all around the base that house flushing toilets, sinks and showers. This may disappoint those expecting a collapsing shower tent a la Sally Kellerman in “M*A*S*H,” but I’m not going to complain about indoor plumbing and hot water showers (It is worth noting, however, that KBR—the contracting firm that installs and maintains the shower trailers—made headlines last year when it was reported that deployed service members were electrocuted in their shower trailers due to faulty wiring. I don’t know if you get a Purple Heart for that, though I imagine other body parts may indeed change to that hue.) Of course, like any dust covered construction site, you also have an assortment of portalets that litter the landscape, which—while fully functional as latrines—serve as mini private art galleries for military graffiti. Ninety-nine percent of this bathroom poetry is lame jokes about various Army units sucking, somebody's mothers blowing, or illustrations of penises with inordinately large balls. I did, however, happen upon one portalet that featured a chain of graffiti that Sacha Baron Cohen would have been proud of: Someone had started by writing “Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo Yankee Oscar Uniform.” Aside from demonstrating a perfunctory knowledge of the phonetic alphabet, with the words vertically stacked, they spell-out the acronym “f--- Hardly the most novel message for a bathroom wall, but whatever. Apparently, though, another person was particularly underwhelmed and decided to write “Foxtrot Alpha Golf” next to it (get it?) along with a little arrow indicating who the homosexual in question was. Not to be outdone, a third man of letters continued the chain, writing next to “fag,” “Romeo Echo Alpha Lima Lima Yankee Alpha Foxtrot Alpha Golf,” or “really a fag.” This is where things turn a corner, though, since the last writer put his first Alpha before the Echo, so it wound up spelling “Raelly a fag.” What brought all this nonsense to my attention in the first place (aside from the fact that it was all at eye-level while I was taking a leak) was that someone actually took the time to correct the spelling mistake by writing “switch these” next to the misplaced letters, adding the editorial comment “dumbass” as well. As an English teacher, I felt a pang of relief. Sure, we might be crass, grammatically-challenged homophobes, but the recognition of proper vowel patterns is always a welcome sight.
Having reached the point of copy-editing bathroom scrawl, you would think this last addition would have would ended things and we could return to cartoon genitals, but no, the chain continued thanks to a huge black arrow that pointed to the aforementioned graffiti. Affixed to said arrow was the message “Your all fags.” Alas, you see the problem here. Well, so did another English-savvy urinator, who made the astute correction—almost—writing “You Are Is Your’e.” Damn those pesky apostrophes, but this faux pas did not go unnoticed by the final vandal, who set everyone straight with “It’s You’re Dumbass” (circling the placement of the apostrophe for added emphasis). Alas, not every portalet so thoroughly illustrates this open-minded, literary side of the American military, and one hopes that future generations will have a better understanding of appositives, but keep in mind that the government decided my services were needed more as a soldier than an English teacher.
Outside of the well-decorated facilities, there are many other sources of entertainment here at Camp Phoenix. I mentioned the Pizza Hut, Dairy Queen and coffee shop, but there is also an Orange Julius, a barber shop, massage parlor (sans happy endings), along with Morale Welfare Recreation (MWR) facilities like the gym, gameroom, computer/phone lounge and reading room. Most notable about Camp Phoenix is the weekly bazaar that comes on base every Friday. Run by local nationals, the event features everything from rugs and hand-carved chess sets, to antique rifles, pirated DVDs and high-end personal sundries like sunglasses and watches whose brand names are curiously misspelled (you are all getting a Roolex for the holidays). There are also bizarre curiosities, like the Aladdin slippers, a six-foot, hand-carved wooden giraffe and glass-encased scorpions with “USA-Afghanistan!” painted over them (you’re getting these, too). I have yet to fully immerse myself into the bartering madness, but I did succumb to purchasing a native hat (“Just like [Hamid] Karzai wear!”) and scarf for four dollars. When worn in conjunction with my sunglasses, I look like a thug terrorist. It’s not quite as goofy as the picture of me in the flying taco sandwich board, but it’s close.
> Carry the water / Remove the water. l this is background noise amidst the daily grind of my job—which, as I mentioned, technically does not exist. Without getting into all the details, I was deployed as the Brigade S6 (signal/communications/computer guy). The only problem is that, once we got here, we were told that there was not going to be a Brigade staff. The decision came from a two-star general. Our one-star general fought it. I was not involved in any of this, though I imagine the back-and-forth involved a lot of desk-pounding, cigar-chomping, the yelling of the phrase “No, YOU stand down, good sir!” and possibly a duel to the death with pistols at sundown. However it went down, I am a man with a title, but no job. At the moment, I may become a signal guy for the Task Force Staff, which—in layman’s terms—is akin to having worked as the manager of the Chic-Fil-A at the mall and then being told that you have been promoted to managing all the Chic-Fil-A’s in the tri-county area. Until official word comes down, I have anointed myself as “Task Force J6 Ambassador,” since my role is now going to the other bases in country and visiting with my signal counterparts to find out how their actual, truly-existing jobs are going. Lest you worry, my traveling is on a limited basis and mainly by air, not convoy. Seriously, mom, I'm okay.
I did this last weekend, when I visited a nearby base. At said base, there was a contingent of Afghan workers who were helping in the construction of the base’s expansion. Part of the base was being used for our troops to train the Afghan Army, which is really our overall mission out here. You always hear about the bombings and kicking-down of doors, but our primary goal is to train the Afghan National Army and Police Force to take control of their own country. Our soldiers are working with them, training them, living with them and helping them to develop infrastructure (wells, schools, etc.) And while the mission has met with a fair share of challenges and setbacks, most of the Afghans want this to succeed (as do our soldiers, so we can get the f---out of here). You can imagine, however, that the challenges—large and small—are unique, which brings me back to the construction workers. As they were working, two of the workers began getting into a rather heated argument. It escalated and—despite the supervisor and interpreter attempting to calm things down—things got physical. One of the workers lunged toward the other and, in a defensive maneuver, the second worker picked up a full bottle of water and chucked it at the other guy’s face from about two feet away. The bottle made contact right on the guy’s eye, producing a massive shiner that swelled nicely (the water bottle defense did, however, work. The initiator was startled enough that he never made contact with the water guy). The scene eventually calmed, everyone went back to work, and the workday was otherwise uneventful. Still, you've got to hand it to the Afghanis, who already seem to have our American version of civil discourse down pat.
> Letting the days go by / Letting the days go by. I don’t know what else to tell you right now. The weather is fine here. It gets pretty hot in the afternoon, but mornings and evenings are cool and, actually, pleasant. An annoyance is when the winds pick up, creating dust storms that make breathing all but impossible, not to mention covering you in a fine coating of grit. When the dust settles long enough, you can look around the base and see a picturesque view of snow-capped mountaintops. If it wasn’t for the occasional barbed wire or machine-gun-mounted watch tower, the view of the horizon is worthy of a postcard or, for that matter, a Coors Light ad. Time-wise, Kabul is eight-and-a-half hours ahead of the East Coast, and 11.5-hours ahead of San Francisco. I’m not sure where the wayward half-hour went to, or even how the 30-minute shift makes sense, but I suspect this odd half-hour time warp has something to do with the daily 4:15 a.m. sunrise. The food here is quite good—we have a full-service, 24-hour dining facility that has all the trimmings: Salad bar, short-order grill, sandwich bar, dessert bar, vegetarian selections, and the occasional theme night (every Friday is surf and turf—who-hoo!). Things get into a pretty regular grind with no days off and nowhere outside of our rather modest base to go, so there are special events and morale boosters (i.e.—co-ed sports tournaments; movie nights, etc.) to keep spirits up.
And they occasionally need the boost. It would be unfair and ultimately untruthful to not acknowledge the harsher realities of what is going on over here. While I may complain about the smell of a crowded room or joke about the four-dollar coffee, the truth is that I am quite fortunate. Most soldiers in the unit are spread out all over the country, with many living in far more austere conditions. We have some teams that are working to train the Afghan Army in desolate parts of the country. They are sleeping on the ground outside in more extreme weather; they are without showers or toilets and have no internet or phones, let alone hot meals or gourmet coffee. Many soldiers are on bases that do not have the benefit of a real or imagined warlord protector, and are fired upon on a daily (and nightly) basis. A number of our soldiers are out on the roads every day, driving convoys through crowded villages in less-welcoming areas, or worse, travelling along dangerous roads that are easily ambushed. And, as always, there is the constant threat of IED attacks—an unfortunate fate that has already claimed the lives of seven of our unit’s soldiers since we arrived in theater this April. I may gently mock the creature comforts and relative safety of Camp Phoenix, but I do not take these aspects for granted. According to the Associated Press, we are on pace for a record month of violence in Afghanistan. It will be a rough summer, that is for sure. Please know that I am as safe as one can possibly be in such a situation, but there are many who are not.
Today was a microcosm of all that is good, bad and otherwise about the whole deployment thusfar.
The sun was in full blast at 5:00 a.m.; it was 70-degrees.
I grabbed a morning coffee and reported to my non-existent job.
With nothing to do today, I spent much of the day typing this e-mail.
At 5:00 p.m., hundreds of soldiers on base assembled outside for a memorial ceremony.
We honored two of our unit’s soldiers that were killed by an IED last week. One was the brother of my roommate.
It was the third memorial service I’ve been to since June.
Despite being in the middle of Afghanistan, tonight they serve crab legs and shrimp for dinner.
A helicopter lands in the middle of the half-mile track that I’m running on.
The Romanians are drinking beer by their outdoor barbeque.
It’s Hip-Hop Night.
Surreal.
Peace.
--chris
10 July 2009Kabul, Afghanistan
Greetings, all, from beautiful downtown Kabul. Yes, after over three months of inprocessing, integration and training in Georgia and Indiana, my deployment proper has finally begun. I am stationed here at Camp Phoenix, which (at the moment, anyways) will be my home for the next nine months or so. Phoenix, as some of you may know, is a mythical bird that self-immolates and then regenerates itself from the ashes—in a sense continually rebuilding itself out of dust. In a secondary sense, Phoenix also refers to a city in Arizona, best known for its scorching dry heat and population of displaced, disgruntled Republicans. Under either definition, the Camp Phoenix designator is appropriate.
In the limited communications I’ve had with some of you since my arrival, one word keeps resurfacing as a descriptor: surreal. Despite being in a warzone, I cannot write that I miss the honkytonks, Dairy Queens and Seven-Elevens, considering there is a Pizza Hut, Dairy Queen and faux-Starbucks here on base—the latter serving a mean spiced chai triple espresso. Surreal. There are salsa lessons offered every Thursday night, sandwiched between karaoke Wednesdays and Hip-Hop Fridays. Surreal. I am living in a wooden hut with five other officers, across the street from the Romanians and next to the French contingent, which has built a small windmill amidst their barracks. Surreal. I currently have a job title for a position that does not officially exist. Surreal. The on-base, bi-weekly, local national bazaar offers gold lame Aladdin slippers with curled toes for three dollars. I am un chien Andalusia. As the time slowly melts away, here’s the latest from this edge of the world.
> You may find yourself living in a shotgun shack / You may find yourself in another part of the worldThe first leg of our journey to the East began as we left Camp Atterbury, flying out of Indianapolis International Airport. Our transportation was a commercial jet, serviced by Omni Air International (the Wal-Mart brand of international carriers). Given that the flight was not full to capacity, I was sharing a row of three with only one other person. The center seat of our row was reserved for our excess gear, to include our M9 pistols, while our M4 rifles lay on the floor beneath the seats—“with muzzles pointed toward the aisle” as the attendant casually announced over the speaker (Surreal.) Sharing my row was a fellow IRR captain who I work with regularly out here, and who has crafted his bitterness into something of an art form (he was called back a mere six months after getting out). As we taxied the runway out of Indianapolis, he mentioned to me that he was going to get up mid-flight, start waving around his pistol and screaming madly, eventually busting a window and sending us all to a fiery death. I told him it would be something to be part of an international incident like that, and to wake me up before he did it so, on the off chance I survived, I could attest to the tortured souls of the IRR recalls on Larry King Live. Alas, he chickened out and I spent most of the 23 hours in flight sleeping, waking up only for our mandatory fuel stops and a breakfast meal that resembled cat food on a sponge and tasted much the same. We had layovers at airports in Shannon, Ireland (pleasant) and Bucharest, Romania (less so) before finally landing at Manas Air Base in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan.
We stayed at Manas for three days before completing our final leg into Afghanistan. Kyrgyzstan grabbed some headline space last month, when its president was threatening to force out the U.S., unhappy with our continued presence in using the country as a staging base for the escalating conflict in Afghanistan. This threat dissipated after the U.S. renegotiated our land lease with the Kyrgyz government, agreeing to pay more than three times our current $17 million annual rent, as well as an additional $60+ million for other Kyrgyz projects, illustrating that at least the government’s stimulus package is working in places like Kyrgyzstan.
Other than that recent turn in the news cycle spotlight, the only other claim to fame that Kyrgyzstan holds is, of course, The Great Vowel Pogrom. Back in the late 12th-Century, the Mongol Invasion led to a mass exodus of vowels from the country, resulting in a hostile, consonant-led dictatorship that is still firmly entrenched today. Threatened with violence that included the flogging of their serifs and amputation of their ligatures, the vowels fled the country en masse during the 1180s, seeking sanctuary in the remote mountains of neighboring Kazakhstan and Tajikistan. The traitorous Ys overran the country, burning entire villages of Es, Is and, occasionally the wayward Js, who were sometimes accused of being pro-vowel sympathizers. Numerous vowels relocated to Scandinavia, where they flourished after cleverly disguising themselves with umlauts, breves and other diacritical camouflage. Another sect of Kyrgyz Vowel refugees established themselves in Great Britain, where then blended in seamlessly (if needlessly) in words like colour, humour and cheque. Still others can be found in the United States, where a pocket of vowels with Kyrgyz decent settled in Fon du Lac, Wisconsin. They frequently visit the Wisconsin Dells, enjoying the fried cheese curd, as well as matinee performances of Tommy Bartlett’s Ski and Sky Show.
> You may find yourself in a beautiful house with a beautiful wife. On Tuesday, June 16, we departed Manas via military aircraft (a C-17, for those who know military aircraft…or who like to make SnapTite models) and flew into Afghanistan, arriving to Camp Phoenix that night. It did not go unnoticed that, as I was aboard the aircraft, proceedings were taking place a few time zones west of me and, by the time I landed in Kabul, I had gained a brother-in-law. (Yes, I know this may be the least romantic, least poetic way ever to describe a wedding. One should note, however, that there’s a reason there has never been a film or poem called “Honeymoon in Afghanistan.” Regardless, congratulations Melissa and Tom. You are now obligated to build a small wooden house in the woods of Northern California, so that if I ever have kids, I can take them to Uncle Tom’s Cabin).
Enroute to the camp from the airport, our driver shared this bit of trivia. This could be fact, legend or an over-embellished truth, but it has been repeated since my arrival here and, even if it’s complete BS, it still makes a good story: Apparently Camp Phoenix is “one of the safest bases in Afghanistan,” according to the driver, having gone almost two years without an attack. It seems that in 2007, the camp was attacked with indirect mortar fire. The local warlord—a supporter of the troops here—was incensed at the attack and ordered the perpetrators to be found. They were, and when they were, they were skinned alive and their families slaughtered. Since then, there has not been an attack on Camp Phoenix. Fact or fiction, it’s fair to assume that, right now, every death penalty proponent is licking his or her lips, wondering where the Tim Robbins/Sean Penn movie is dramatizing that account.
Our first few days at Camp Phoenix were filled with the joys of the ever-ubiquitous PowerPoint briefings, proving that if the world ever ends, only the cockroach and the Army PowerPoint brief will survive the Armageddon. Most of these briefings were tedious and repetitive, but one bears special mention as the most-discussed of the lot, as it featured the Army’s official policy on sex while deployed in theater. Usually, when the Army is against something, they put out the information in no uncertain terms. For example, General Order Number One whilst deployed can be summarized simply as “Don’t drink any alcohol,” followed by a litany of “or else” punishments that make mandated sobriety seem a rather obvious choice. Sex, on the other hand, isn’t quite as verboten, though the Powers That Be have found a way to make sure you can’t enjoy the otherwise pleasurable act of copulation without first wading through a morass of governmental litigious red tape. So I don’t misrepresent the policy, here is a summary, courtesy of Military Times:
“The new regulation warns that sex in a combat zone 'can have an adverse impact on unit cohesion, morale, good order and discipline.'
But sexual relations and physical intimacy between men and women not married to each other are no longer banned outright. They're only 'highly discouraged,' and that's as long as they're 'not otherwise prohibited' by the Uniform Code of Military Justice, according to the new order.
Single men and women can now also visit each other's living quarters, as long as everyone else who lives there agrees, and as long as visitors of the opposite sex remain in the open 'and not behind closed doors, partitions or other isolated or segregated areas,' according to the new regulation.”
Now, note that it doesn’t simply say “No sex while deployed,” so there’s a loophole there that absolutely no one could miss. Rereading the policy, however, more than implies that, Yes, you can have sex in your room, so long as you keep the door open and no one in the room minds watching you get it on. Essentially, you can read this as the Army endorsing exhibitionism and voyeurism, and considering what is NOT explicitly stated in the policy, that may be just the tip of the…uh, iceberg. Frankly, this is the kinkiest thing the Army has done since Lyndie England’s pyramid of naked detainees. The only downside to this pseudo Free Love doctrine is that the pool of people you could potentially couple with all look like they are deployed in a warzone in the middle of Afghanistan. To paraphrase an earlier reference, you don’t see many pornos titled “Army MILFs: The Afghanistan Mission.” Sex may be permissible, but—much like seeing a Dane Cook movie—just because you can, doesn’t mean you have to.
> You may ask yourself, “How do I work this?” / You may ask yourself, “Where is my beautiful house?”As a base that I will be calling home for the foreseeable future, Camp Phoenix is not bad. Comparable in many ways to Camp Victory in Iraq (albeit on a much smaller scale), Camp Phoenix has its share of creature comforts to remind us all of home (though, ironically, these touches also amplify how far from home we really are). Geographically, the camp is rather small, though it is in the process of expanding to accommodate the influx of troops. Much like a city that branches toward suburban sprawl, each section of the camp has its own urbane nickname. When we first got here, I was staying in a 20-man tent in part of the camp’s nascent “Northern Expansion,” a part of the camp that is being developed to house upwards of 1,000 troops. I have since moved to the East Side, located between the French compound—which they have christened Quartier Layfayette—and the Romanian section—which, to my knowledge, does not have a chic name, though does have a makeshift tavern that serves beer. (*Not to American soldiers, though. See General Order Number One.) My eventual goal is to get into LegoLand, a series of hardened single rooms, structured in such a way that they resemble a geometric block of Lego-like housing. As noted, my current living situation is not bad, as I have only five roommates, all of whom are senior officers and easy to get along with. It is a wooden building (a shack, really) with air conditioning and electricity. Ventilation leaves something to be desired, however, and I note this only because at the end of each day as we settle into our beds, the entire room assumes the unpleasant aroma of dust and feet. For good reason, the Glade people don’t market a “Dust & Feet” potpourri spray (“At last--the fresh scent of foot fungus and Middle East dirt!”), so if you are jonesing for care package ideas, a cardboard tree air freshener would be welcome. Like, REALLY welcome.
Not to digress into bathroom humor, but inevitably someone asks about our bathroom accommodations here in the middle of nowhere. There are trailers set up all around the base that house flushing toilets, sinks and showers. This may disappoint those expecting a collapsing shower tent a la Sally Kellerman in “M*A*S*H,” but I’m not going to complain about indoor plumbing and hot water showers (It is worth noting, however, that KBR—the contracting firm that installs and maintains the shower trailers—made headlines last year when it was reported that deployed service members were electrocuted in their shower trailers due to faulty wiring. I don’t know if you get a Purple Heart for that, though I imagine other body parts may indeed change to that hue.) Of course, like any dust covered construction site, you also have an assortment of portalets that litter the landscape, which—while fully functional as latrines—serve as mini private art galleries for military graffiti. Ninety-nine percent of this bathroom poetry is lame jokes about various Army units sucking, somebody's mothers blowing, or illustrations of penises with inordinately large balls. I did, however, happen upon one portalet that featured a chain of graffiti that Sacha Baron Cohen would have been proud of: Someone had started by writing “Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo Yankee Oscar Uniform.” Aside from demonstrating a perfunctory knowledge of the phonetic alphabet, with the words vertically stacked, they spell-out the acronym “f--- Hardly the most novel message for a bathroom wall, but whatever. Apparently, though, another person was particularly underwhelmed and decided to write “Foxtrot Alpha Golf” next to it (get it?) along with a little arrow indicating who the homosexual in question was. Not to be outdone, a third man of letters continued the chain, writing next to “fag,” “Romeo Echo Alpha Lima Lima Yankee Alpha Foxtrot Alpha Golf,” or “really a fag.” This is where things turn a corner, though, since the last writer put his first Alpha before the Echo, so it wound up spelling “Raelly a fag.” What brought all this nonsense to my attention in the first place (aside from the fact that it was all at eye-level while I was taking a leak) was that someone actually took the time to correct the spelling mistake by writing “switch these” next to the misplaced letters, adding the editorial comment “dumbass” as well. As an English teacher, I felt a pang of relief. Sure, we might be crass, grammatically-challenged homophobes, but the recognition of proper vowel patterns is always a welcome sight.
Having reached the point of copy-editing bathroom scrawl, you would think this last addition would have would ended things and we could return to cartoon genitals, but no, the chain continued thanks to a huge black arrow that pointed to the aforementioned graffiti. Affixed to said arrow was the message “Your all fags.” Alas, you see the problem here. Well, so did another English-savvy urinator, who made the astute correction—almost—writing “You Are Is Your’e.” Damn those pesky apostrophes, but this faux pas did not go unnoticed by the final vandal, who set everyone straight with “It’s You’re Dumbass” (circling the placement of the apostrophe for added emphasis). Alas, not every portalet so thoroughly illustrates this open-minded, literary side of the American military, and one hopes that future generations will have a better understanding of appositives, but keep in mind that the government decided my services were needed more as a soldier than an English teacher.
Outside of the well-decorated facilities, there are many other sources of entertainment here at Camp Phoenix. I mentioned the Pizza Hut, Dairy Queen and coffee shop, but there is also an Orange Julius, a barber shop, massage parlor (sans happy endings), along with Morale Welfare Recreation (MWR) facilities like the gym, gameroom, computer/phone lounge and reading room. Most notable about Camp Phoenix is the weekly bazaar that comes on base every Friday. Run by local nationals, the event features everything from rugs and hand-carved chess sets, to antique rifles, pirated DVDs and high-end personal sundries like sunglasses and watches whose brand names are curiously misspelled (you are all getting a Roolex for the holidays). There are also bizarre curiosities, like the Aladdin slippers, a six-foot, hand-carved wooden giraffe and glass-encased scorpions with “USA-Afghanistan!” painted over them (you’re getting these, too). I have yet to fully immerse myself into the bartering madness, but I did succumb to purchasing a native hat (“Just like [Hamid] Karzai wear!”) and scarf for four dollars. When worn in conjunction with my sunglasses, I look like a thug terrorist. It’s not quite as goofy as the picture of me in the flying taco sandwich board, but it’s close.
> Carry the water / Remove the water. l this is background noise amidst the daily grind of my job—which, as I mentioned, technically does not exist. Without getting into all the details, I was deployed as the Brigade S6 (signal/communications/computer guy). The only problem is that, once we got here, we were told that there was not going to be a Brigade staff. The decision came from a two-star general. Our one-star general fought it. I was not involved in any of this, though I imagine the back-and-forth involved a lot of desk-pounding, cigar-chomping, the yelling of the phrase “No, YOU stand down, good sir!” and possibly a duel to the death with pistols at sundown. However it went down, I am a man with a title, but no job. At the moment, I may become a signal guy for the Task Force Staff, which—in layman’s terms—is akin to having worked as the manager of the Chic-Fil-A at the mall and then being told that you have been promoted to managing all the Chic-Fil-A’s in the tri-county area. Until official word comes down, I have anointed myself as “Task Force J6 Ambassador,” since my role is now going to the other bases in country and visiting with my signal counterparts to find out how their actual, truly-existing jobs are going. Lest you worry, my traveling is on a limited basis and mainly by air, not convoy. Seriously, mom, I'm okay.
I did this last weekend, when I visited a nearby base. At said base, there was a contingent of Afghan workers who were helping in the construction of the base’s expansion. Part of the base was being used for our troops to train the Afghan Army, which is really our overall mission out here. You always hear about the bombings and kicking-down of doors, but our primary goal is to train the Afghan National Army and Police Force to take control of their own country. Our soldiers are working with them, training them, living with them and helping them to develop infrastructure (wells, schools, etc.) And while the mission has met with a fair share of challenges and setbacks, most of the Afghans want this to succeed (as do our soldiers, so we can get the f---out of here). You can imagine, however, that the challenges—large and small—are unique, which brings me back to the construction workers. As they were working, two of the workers began getting into a rather heated argument. It escalated and—despite the supervisor and interpreter attempting to calm things down—things got physical. One of the workers lunged toward the other and, in a defensive maneuver, the second worker picked up a full bottle of water and chucked it at the other guy’s face from about two feet away. The bottle made contact right on the guy’s eye, producing a massive shiner that swelled nicely (the water bottle defense did, however, work. The initiator was startled enough that he never made contact with the water guy). The scene eventually calmed, everyone went back to work, and the workday was otherwise uneventful. Still, you've got to hand it to the Afghanis, who already seem to have our American version of civil discourse down pat.
> Letting the days go by / Letting the days go by. I don’t know what else to tell you right now. The weather is fine here. It gets pretty hot in the afternoon, but mornings and evenings are cool and, actually, pleasant. An annoyance is when the winds pick up, creating dust storms that make breathing all but impossible, not to mention covering you in a fine coating of grit. When the dust settles long enough, you can look around the base and see a picturesque view of snow-capped mountaintops. If it wasn’t for the occasional barbed wire or machine-gun-mounted watch tower, the view of the horizon is worthy of a postcard or, for that matter, a Coors Light ad. Time-wise, Kabul is eight-and-a-half hours ahead of the East Coast, and 11.5-hours ahead of San Francisco. I’m not sure where the wayward half-hour went to, or even how the 30-minute shift makes sense, but I suspect this odd half-hour time warp has something to do with the daily 4:15 a.m. sunrise. The food here is quite good—we have a full-service, 24-hour dining facility that has all the trimmings: Salad bar, short-order grill, sandwich bar, dessert bar, vegetarian selections, and the occasional theme night (every Friday is surf and turf—who-hoo!). Things get into a pretty regular grind with no days off and nowhere outside of our rather modest base to go, so there are special events and morale boosters (i.e.—co-ed sports tournaments; movie nights, etc.) to keep spirits up.
And they occasionally need the boost. It would be unfair and ultimately untruthful to not acknowledge the harsher realities of what is going on over here. While I may complain about the smell of a crowded room or joke about the four-dollar coffee, the truth is that I am quite fortunate. Most soldiers in the unit are spread out all over the country, with many living in far more austere conditions. We have some teams that are working to train the Afghan Army in desolate parts of the country. They are sleeping on the ground outside in more extreme weather; they are without showers or toilets and have no internet or phones, let alone hot meals or gourmet coffee. Many soldiers are on bases that do not have the benefit of a real or imagined warlord protector, and are fired upon on a daily (and nightly) basis. A number of our soldiers are out on the roads every day, driving convoys through crowded villages in less-welcoming areas, or worse, travelling along dangerous roads that are easily ambushed. And, as always, there is the constant threat of IED attacks—an unfortunate fate that has already claimed the lives of seven of our unit’s soldiers since we arrived in theater this April. I may gently mock the creature comforts and relative safety of Camp Phoenix, but I do not take these aspects for granted. According to the Associated Press, we are on pace for a record month of violence in Afghanistan. It will be a rough summer, that is for sure. Please know that I am as safe as one can possibly be in such a situation, but there are many who are not.
Today was a microcosm of all that is good, bad and otherwise about the whole deployment thusfar.
The sun was in full blast at 5:00 a.m.; it was 70-degrees.
I grabbed a morning coffee and reported to my non-existent job.
With nothing to do today, I spent much of the day typing this e-mail.
At 5:00 p.m., hundreds of soldiers on base assembled outside for a memorial ceremony.
We honored two of our unit’s soldiers that were killed by an IED last week. One was the brother of my roommate.
It was the third memorial service I’ve been to since June.
Despite being in the middle of Afghanistan, tonight they serve crab legs and shrimp for dinner.
A helicopter lands in the middle of the half-mile track that I’m running on.
The Romanians are drinking beer by their outdoor barbeque.
It’s Hip-Hop Night.
Surreal.
Peace.
--chris
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
June Update from Camp Arifjan
I wanted to say very quickly...Thank You, Thank You, Thank You to all that have sent me packages. It seems like a small thing, but believe me I look forward to opening the smallest piece of mail. My admin section is amazed by the amount of mail I get. SFC Moore, who handles the mail for our G3 section gets tickled. I've developed a nice relationship with her because of all of you guys. It's good to have your admin people know who you are! They handle my mail, finance, leave requests, etc.
I've had 30+ days now to get a better feel for the things I need month in and month out here. Many of you have asked, so here's the newest list. Nothing is every expected. A simple card, letter, or postcard (Thanks Brad) is enough to brighten my day. However, many has asked what they can send, so here goes.
- Irish Spring (blue) soap
- Colgate toothpaste
- 30 SPF sun screen
- Gold Bond body powder
- Dental floss
- iTunes gift cards
- AAFES gift cards
- Any candy in individual wrappers so I can share
- T-shirts (Yes, I didn't bring enough civilian t-shirts to work out in. You want to advertise, I'll wear your shirt while I run or work-out. Nothing "questionable" please.)
That's all for now. BTW, if anyone would like to send a care package to another soldier here, let me know. I've got some good friends sprinkled throughout Afghanistan, Kuwait, and Iraq, who I know would love contact from home.
I'll have an update on the last 30 days out before long. For now, I'm wanted to share my work-out schedule. With not much to do but work, most all of us work-out at least once a day. I've created a work-out schedule for myself 6 days a week. So far, so good. I usually work out every day during lunch. I'm actually starting to see results. Imagine that....no alcohol and working out every day. Guess what happens? :) I'll have pictures out in another month or so when the results really begin to show.
A work-out week in the life of a deployed soldier.
DAY #1: Chest & Triceps [45min – 1hr 15min]
Notes: Do 3 sets of each weight training exercise 10-15 reps per set. Gradually increase weight each time to increase resistance. Try to use free weights as much as possible, but the machines are just fine.
- bench press
- triceps press
- incline beach press
- dumbbell or curl bar triceps press
- decline bench press
- dips
[2 Mile Run]
DAY #2: Shoulders & Abs [45min – 1hr 15min]
Notes: Do 3 sets of each weight training exercise 10-15 reps per set. Gradually increase weight each time to increase resistance. Try to use free weights as much as possible, but the machines are just fine.
- shoulder press
- incline sit-ups (as many as possible in one try)
- shoulder pull-downs
- ab machine or crunches with weight on chest
- single arm dumbbell shoulder lifts
- 3 sets of crunches (75+ per set)
[15+ min on Elliptical]
DAY #3: Back & Biceps [45min – 1hr 15min]
Notes: Do 3 sets of each weight training exercise 10-15 reps per set. Gradually increase weight each time to increase resistance. Try to use free weights as much as possible, but the machines are just fine.
- upper back press
- bicep curl machine
- lower back press or rows
- bicep pull-down
- lower back exercise (3 reps. Inverted, right side, left side
- single arm dumbbell curls
[1.5 Mile Sprint Run]
DAY #4: Kegs & Abs [45min – 1hr 15min]
Notes: Do 3 sets of each weight training exercise 10-15 reps per set. Gradually increase weight each time to increase resistance. Try to use free weights as much as possible, but the machines are just fine.
- squats or leg presses
- sit-ups (simulate the PT test)
- leg curls
- 3 sets of crunches (75+ per set)
- hamstring curls
- groin press
[15+ min on Bike]
DAY #5: Joints – Neck, Wrists, Ankles 45min – 1hr 15min]
Notes: Do 3 sets of each weight training exercise 10-15 reps per set. Gradually increase weight each time to increase resistance. Try to use free weights as much as possible, but the machines are just fine.
- push-ups
- neck press
- single wrist dumbbell curl
- shrugs
- calf raises
[5K Run]
DAY #6: Sport / Aerobic Activity [1hr]
Notes: The goal is to get the heart rate up while doing something fun!
- swim
- basketball
- etc.
DAY#7: Rest
I'm also going back to my refereeing roots. I'm refereeing intramurals here on Camp Arifjan. Right now we're doing volleyball. I've got a basketball tournament coming up this weekend, which I'm excited about. Thanks Ang for sending me my referee stuff!
That's it for now. Thanks for reading and I'll see you all next time.
I've had 30+ days now to get a better feel for the things I need month in and month out here. Many of you have asked, so here's the newest list. Nothing is every expected. A simple card, letter, or postcard (Thanks Brad) is enough to brighten my day. However, many has asked what they can send, so here goes.
- Irish Spring (blue) soap
- Colgate toothpaste
- 30 SPF sun screen
- Gold Bond body powder
- Dental floss
- iTunes gift cards
- AAFES gift cards
- Any candy in individual wrappers so I can share
- T-shirts (Yes, I didn't bring enough civilian t-shirts to work out in. You want to advertise, I'll wear your shirt while I run or work-out. Nothing "questionable" please.)
That's all for now. BTW, if anyone would like to send a care package to another soldier here, let me know. I've got some good friends sprinkled throughout Afghanistan, Kuwait, and Iraq, who I know would love contact from home.
I'll have an update on the last 30 days out before long. For now, I'm wanted to share my work-out schedule. With not much to do but work, most all of us work-out at least once a day. I've created a work-out schedule for myself 6 days a week. So far, so good. I usually work out every day during lunch. I'm actually starting to see results. Imagine that....no alcohol and working out every day. Guess what happens? :) I'll have pictures out in another month or so when the results really begin to show.
A work-out week in the life of a deployed soldier.
DAY #1: Chest & Triceps [45min – 1hr 15min]
Notes: Do 3 sets of each weight training exercise 10-15 reps per set. Gradually increase weight each time to increase resistance. Try to use free weights as much as possible, but the machines are just fine.
- bench press
- triceps press
- incline beach press
- dumbbell or curl bar triceps press
- decline bench press
- dips
[2 Mile Run]
DAY #2: Shoulders & Abs [45min – 1hr 15min]
Notes: Do 3 sets of each weight training exercise 10-15 reps per set. Gradually increase weight each time to increase resistance. Try to use free weights as much as possible, but the machines are just fine.
- shoulder press
- incline sit-ups (as many as possible in one try)
- shoulder pull-downs
- ab machine or crunches with weight on chest
- single arm dumbbell shoulder lifts
- 3 sets of crunches (75+ per set)
[15+ min on Elliptical]
DAY #3: Back & Biceps [45min – 1hr 15min]
Notes: Do 3 sets of each weight training exercise 10-15 reps per set. Gradually increase weight each time to increase resistance. Try to use free weights as much as possible, but the machines are just fine.
- upper back press
- bicep curl machine
- lower back press or rows
- bicep pull-down
- lower back exercise (3 reps. Inverted, right side, left side
- single arm dumbbell curls
[1.5 Mile Sprint Run]
DAY #4: Kegs & Abs [45min – 1hr 15min]
Notes: Do 3 sets of each weight training exercise 10-15 reps per set. Gradually increase weight each time to increase resistance. Try to use free weights as much as possible, but the machines are just fine.
- squats or leg presses
- sit-ups (simulate the PT test)
- leg curls
- 3 sets of crunches (75+ per set)
- hamstring curls
- groin press
[15+ min on Bike]
DAY #5: Joints – Neck, Wrists, Ankles 45min – 1hr 15min]
Notes: Do 3 sets of each weight training exercise 10-15 reps per set. Gradually increase weight each time to increase resistance. Try to use free weights as much as possible, but the machines are just fine.
- push-ups
- neck press
- single wrist dumbbell curl
- shrugs
- calf raises
[5K Run]
DAY #6: Sport / Aerobic Activity [1hr]
Notes: The goal is to get the heart rate up while doing something fun!
- swim
- basketball
- etc.
DAY#7: Rest
I'm also going back to my refereeing roots. I'm refereeing intramurals here on Camp Arifjan. Right now we're doing volleyball. I've got a basketball tournament coming up this weekend, which I'm excited about. Thanks Ang for sending me my referee stuff!
That's it for now. Thanks for reading and I'll see you all next time.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
June - July Continuing Update w/ Pictures :)
OK. I’ve been gone a little longer than I intended. Today is Monday, July 6th. It’s a little over a week after my 40th birthday. I’ve been here in Kuwait with US ARCENT for 37 days. I’ve now been on active duty for 120 days! Only 280 days to go!
I’ll start my catch up here with the 1st week in country. We went right to work on that first day. MAJ Phil Speth is the guy Jim Schultz and I are replacing and our trainer. Still struggling from jet lag, Jim and I staggered into our first day on the Command Operations and Intelligence Center (COIC) floor. We definitely could have used a day or so to at least try to get our bodies somewhat on track. Oh well.
Now, I have to be very careful here as I speak about my job and where I work. To gain entry to the floor, you have to at least have a secret clearance. About everything that happens where I work is secret / need to know. However, I can give some overviews. (To put it in perspective, there are no cell phones, Blackerrys, iPhones, cameras, recording devices, etc. allowed on the floor.) You have to go through two levels of security to even get in. We working a desk area at the front of the command center close to the projection screens. When we go there, we had 3 computer screens with programs we monitor.
That first week Phil Speth turned the fire hose on us again. He jumped right in and went at us with all the things space soldiers due for current operations here on the floor. We rolled on Friday, Saturday, Sunday afternoon, and Monday from 7am to 6-7pm each day. This is also when we found out that we’re going to work 24 hours a day 7 days a week, 12 hours shifts. Jim volunteered for the night shift, so I’m working 6am-6pm. Not thrilled about working 12 hours a day for the next 10 straight months. I fear that burn-out will happen much quicker working this kind of schedule. However, we were given Sunday morning off to sleep in a little and go to church. I needed just to try and catch up to the time change a little.
The following week we continued training on Monday and then started our shifts on Tuesday. My entire concentration right now is on learning the job and trying to get into a battle rhythm. Survival deployed is dependent upon developing a schedule, a system, a rhythm to each day. It’s the only way you can get over the “suck” and get the days clicking by. Here’s a look at a typical day I’m trying to organize for myself.
0500 Wake-up
0500-0530 Personal Hygiene
0530-0600 Breakfast
0600 Report for Shift
1130-1230 Physical Training
1230-1300 Personal Hygiene
1300-1330 Lunch
1800 Off Duty
1800-1900 Dinner
1900-2000 Return Emails, Write Letters, Blog
2000-2200 Personal Time (Wash clothes, watch movie, phone calls, etc.)2200-0550 Sleep
The rub is that any deviation to the schedule like a long day at work because of a significant event, or I miss my lunch time work-out because of a meeting and I’m off. I’ve got to make it up. I’m told that we’re not going to get Sunday mornings off, but that’s BS. I’ve got to work on that. I need at least one sleep in day to recharge for the next week.I actually took this scheduling issue to my network of Army friends that I’ve made over the last few months. Every person that replied said that no soldier could maintain 12 hours a day 7 days a week and mentally survive the deployment. From the infantry soldier that walks patrols every day to the commander to the support folks, all take a break. You have to have rest, even a short one, to maintain any focus.
I took the issue to my boss. He didn’t agree with me on a better way to sustain ourselves during this tour, but he agreed to sit down with me after the 1st quarter (3 months) to re-evaluate. That’s something at least.
The first week in addition to trying in our job, we in-processed. We had to go by the STB to get a checklist. (The military loves checklists.) Here’s where we go to the armorer to get assigned a weapon. Because we in Kuwait and not Iraq or Afghanistan, and because we don’t carry a weapon here, I got assigned a 9mm pistol. Yay! We go to the transportation office and get our driver’s license. You have to sit through a class about how bad a place Kuwait is to drive in. I’d already seen that first hand. We have to hit the admin folks, the supply folks, and the security folks. One of the things that has always drive me crazy about the military is you have to give the same paperwork to different people (and many times the same people after they loose it) each time. Everybody wants a copy of the same orders. You’d think we’d be able to give one copy and they could share it, but not in the military. Anyway, it’s a lot of trudging around in the heat.
I’m definitely not getting climatized quickly. It’s hot and I sweat. My undershirt is usually sopping wet a couple of times a day. It’s amazing to, because the humidity is only like 10%
I had one of those random events happen to me. My big brother in my fraternity, Lambda Chi Alpha, at the University of Kentucky’s name is Derek Duncan. He’s the guy that convinced me to join LXA. I later also become very good friends with his brother Jon Duncan, who was my brother John’s roommate in the fraternity house. Many, many years ago I’d met most all of Derek and Jon’s extended family. One of their nieces was Meena. She was quite a bit younger than me, cut I remember that she was a college cheerleader. Anyway….she’d found me through Derek and Jon on Facebook. She’s now living in California and a cheerleader with the Oakland Raiders. We started chatting, because she’d read that I
was being deployed in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom and she’d been to Iraq on a moral trip with a group from the Raiders. We agreed to stay in touch and try to link up if we could. There are 130,000+ troops in Iraq and about another 25,000+ in Kuwait. What are the chances? Well I was sitting at my desk doing my usual stuff one day when I get a phone call. She and her group were on Arifjan. She’d used the information I’d posted on Facebook and asked the LTC escorting them if he could find me. He said no problem, and he did. She and the other Oakland Raider cheerleaders were staying in the very same building I was staying in! We agreed to meet for lunch. I got to sit and catch up with her among the rest of the cheerleading squad who’d come on the trip at the mess hall. It’s not every day that 5-6 beautiful women sit down in a military mess hall. It’s was a nice little break in the day.We got another nice break in the training and in-processing that same day. The Space team from Atlanta is in for an big exercise the unit’s doing. MAJ Speth, SSG Holscher, and myself drove up to Camp Buehring to check out the exercise and meet everyone. MAJ Jim Schultz wasn’t able to catch a ride with us, so he got to catch the Blackhawk helicopter up. It just do happened that Meena and her group were going to Camp Buehring to perform that night. Small world! However, I didn’t get to watch the performance. My unit’s base camp was set up a good distance from the center of Buehring out in their own tent city.
It’s interesting driving through Kuwait during the day time. I took my camera and got a good handful of pictures. The whole country’s a desert. Even close to the Arabian Sea it’s arid. You know how you drive through certain parts of the US and each has a color signature? You go through Georgia and you see green trees mixed with colors like from the azaleas
and the dogwoods. You go through Florida and you get the light green of the palm and pine trees mixed with the blue skies. You drive through the mid-west and you get either the combination of colors from the leaves in the fall or the new buds in the spring. Even in the winter, you’ve got the drab gray, but you’ve still either got white or green. In Kuwait, it’s just brown. It’s sandy, dusty brown and it’s everywhere. Even the few trees and bushes they have are brown, because they’re usually covered with a layer of dust. I’m was just struck by all encompassing the brown layer of dust was.It was neat to get to see some of the architecture. They build everything out of concrete. Even the water towers are made of concrete. You’ll notice from the picture that they look like martini glasses. That’s because they’re concrete instead of steel like the ones we build. Heck, we’ve got a regular round steel one at Camp Arifjan, but when you leave they’re all these martini glasses.
We drove north towards Iraq for a good part of the trip, but then turned west from the coast. We stopped by Ali Al Saleem AFB so that I could pick up a 9mm holster from RFI. I was carrying my pistol with a clip of ammo in my pocket. RFI is you get new equipment from. I’d gotten everything but a holster issued from the RFI at Camp Shelby.
From there, we headed north again for Camp Buehring. This post is located right on the border of Kuwait and Iraq. This is where all Army personnel that go into Iraq start from. Here they go to the range for more weapons training and prepare to move into Iraq. CPT Rob Disney and CPT Warren Read are just a couple of my friends who’d already been through here. One of our landmarks was a dead camel. I’m serious. Apparently, camels lay down and die in the desert. Folks here just let them lay and let the desert claim them. This one had been dead a couple of weeks according to Phil and you could only see about half of it. It won’t be a land mark much longer! Our “turn left just past the dead camel” will only work for a short time!
We got to Camp Buehring, jumped through hoops to get on the post (which is standard practice), and then headed to the airfield to pick-up Jim. He’s just made it in time to catch the chopper. He wasn’t to happy, because he’d had to wear his body armor and helmet. We then headed over to the tent city. It’s amazing what the Army can do on just a patch of dessert. They’d set-up this huge command center. Absolutely amazing! COL Henderson, LTC Zellmann, and the rest of the Space team were there. We also got to meet the ARSST team. They’re a group of reservists from Colorado. MAJ Brett Garner was the team leader. Really nice guy. So, we got the group together to take a picture. COL Henderson wanted an entire group picture. Realize that’s this is not easy to pull off. You have to get special permission from the Public Affairs Officer (PAO) to take a picture inside a classified area, but we got 
one. We’re all right outside the command post. Pretty cool group pick, except Jim forgot to take off his reflector belt, which we all have to wear at night, and the flash lit it up like a light bulb. That was about it for our trip to see the exercise. We had dinner with the group, and then the four of us headed back to Camp Arifjan. We got back around 2300.That's what I've got for now. I'll be back shortly with more on getting settled in, my birthday, getting a private room, and the 4th weekend.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
The First Two Weeks in Camp Arifjan, Kuwait
(Sorry for some of the redunancy. I wrote this at work and then uploaded it at my bunk.)
Quick note: I’m back in the Army now, so I’ve got used to talking in “Military Time” or using the 24 hour clock.
Convert Military Time: http://www.spacearchive.info/military.htm
We arrived in Kuwait City late on Thursday the 21st of May. 8 hours of a day gone just like that! We loaded up on buses for the trip to Ali Al Saleem. It was interesting because we were told no personal electronic devices and we had to keep the curtains closed on the bus. Most of the soldiers (as soldiers do) just went to sleep, but I’m the curious type, so I peeked. Airport, desert…..not much to see. It was dark by this time. What I did notice was that everything was so lit up. They have artificial light all over the place.
Kuwait City Info: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kuwait_City
We had a sort of strange stop mid-way through the trip. They had an area in the middle of no where secured with concrete barriers. We stopped here just for a break. It was simply a gravel area with lines of porta johns and stacks and stacks of bottled water. We spent about 30 minutes here and then headed on.We arrived at the Ali Al Saleem Air Force base around 2000hrs. We went thru formation and then a quick in-processing. My first experience on a desert post. Big warehouse type buildings and lots and lots of tents. We were starving, so MAJ Jim Schultz and I went to find dinner. We just had missed chow, which closed at 1930hrs, but guess what we found on this little dessert Air Force base? McDonalds! They really are everywhere. Quick dinner and then it was time to find our bags and look to catch the bus to Camp Arifjan. We were told that one of our guys was supposed to meet us to help us get to Arifjan.
Ali Al Saleem Air Base Info: http://www.globalsecurity.org/military/facility/ali-al-salem.htm
We found our bags and then we found MAJ Phil Speth waiting for us in the MWR tent.
What is MWR? http://www.armymwr.com/
Phil had a nice surprise for us. He’d been able to get an SUV with a co-pilot to take us and our gear to Camp Arifjan. Very nice! I had not been looking forward to lugging 4 very heavy bags on a bus to another post. We policed up our gear and headed out about 2200hrs.This ride was my introduction to Kuwaiti highways and Kuwaiti drivers. We wound our way out of the security gates at Ali Al Saleem and jumped on the highway. What struck me at first was how well lit the roads are here. You seriously don’t need head lights. They have very bright street lights that line up and down the center of these 3-4 land highways. The second thing that struck me was how everyone drives here. It’s like driving in Atlanta only faster and they pass you any way they can. Phil was giving us the low down as people were flying past us, and we were riding with the flow. They pass on the shoulders. If they can’t pass, they get right up on you and blink their lights until you get over or they find a way to pass. On top of all that, driving down the road and we go from three lanes to zero lanes. There were no lane lines! That’s when everyone decided that 4-5 wide was OK. It was like being in a Daytona 500.
Kuwait Info: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kuwait
It took us about 1 ½ hours to get from Ali to Camp Arifjan. Ali is on the northern border close to Iraq. Camp Arifjan is on the south western border near Saudi Arabia. The entire country is about the size of Rhode Island, so you blink your eyes (or miss and exit) and you could be at the border. We rolled into Camp Arifjan about 0030hrs. It took us about 15 minutes to get through the gates. We had to check our IDs and paperwork 3 different times. Being a combat zone there are some pretty stringent rules, even though this is an allied country. You have to have two people in the vehicle to leave post and both have to be armed with ammo. You have to have a signed letter. You have to have a risk assessment and you have to document all leave time, mileage, etc. every time you leave and enter a post. Finally, you have to get out and clear your weapon before you drive on to post.Anyway, we finally got to the housing office late that night. It’s called the “I” building simply because it’s shaped like an I. We checked in and of course they could find none of the paperwork that had been turned in on us, but they found us nice little bunks in the open bays. Apparently, t his is the transition barracks where everyone stays before the deploy into Iraq, re-deploy, or for short stays. We’re told that we get on a waiting list and we’ll get to move into Bldg 507, and residential building for ARCENT folks staying here for the long haul. They have two person rooms w/ TVs and fridges in this building. So, for now we’re in the open bays. We moved in to our bunks in the dark of course. Thank goodness for Phil and MSG Stewart who road along as Phil’s TC. They helped us haul all our gear.I was given an upper bunk, but there were a lot of bunks available, so I went back down to the desk and had them switch me to a lower bunk. I wasn’t to interested in jumping up and down out of bed each day. We each one locker…..picture this….we have all the gear the Army’s issued us since we mobilized. I have 4 large bags. No way this’ll all fit in a wall locker. They have these cages for extra stuff going up and down the middle of the bay, but they were all full. I was too tired to worry about it. I just laid down and crashed. (Even with the snoring and people moving around at all hours.)
The next morning Jim snagged a cage and we threw all our stuff in. One less thing to worry about…your stuff disappearing. (BTW, they logisticians estimate they issue soldiers deploying today about $17,000 worth of stuff. American tax dollars!) We cleaned up and headed right to work for the 0800hrs morning shift change brief. No chance to fight off the jet lag! Phil jumped right in and started training us. Again…just like in Atlanta…put the fire hose in my mouth and turn it on. Neither of us had every done this job before, so everything but how to use the computers was brand new. These are the points where my stories get very vague. Jim and I are going to work at US ARCENT’s forward command center. It’s highly secure and most everything we look at every day is classified SECRET. (This is already driving my Dad crazy. I can’t give him many details.) I leave this part with it’s a desk job, and I look at a lot of screens all day until something happens in my area and I have to spring into action.Anyway, this was the next couple of weeks. Sleep (fitfully), eat (good chow), work, and work-out.
They have fantastic facilities here. They’re as good or better as any post I’ve been on since mobilized. That includes Ft. Jackson, Camp McCrady, Ft. Gordon, and Camp Shelby. The gyms are equipped with every piece of equipment you could want. They have flat screen TVs all over the place to include the gyms and mess halls. They’ve got fast food joints like Taco Bell, Burger King, and Pizza Inn. (I’ve avoided them so far.) The chow halls have salad bars, specialty bars, tons of fruit, and Baskin Robbins ice cream (which I’ve also avoided so far). That part is as bad as Camp McCrady from the beginning.
And I digress back to the parts that are no fun.....you have not privacy. Someone always snores. People work on different shifts. You have no space for your stuff. And, lights don’t go out until 2200hrs. I really can’t wait to get a room. How long will we have to wait is the question….I’m just trying to settle into a rhythm. We’re working 12 hours shifts 6.5 days a week. Jim volunteered to take nights, so I’m working 0600hrs – 1800hrs.
I’m trying to work into a system where I work out and shower at lunch. I then have my time after shift change and chow for laundry, phone calls, checking e-mails, and ultimately sleep. We’ll see. They say the first 30 days is the toughest part.
It is hot, hot, hot here! The average temperature since I’ve been here has been about 115 degrees. When I walk across post at lunch time (about a 15 minute walk) it feels like I’m cooking. The thing is…there is 0 humidity. I sweat, but just from the heat. You carry a drink around or lay it on a desk and there never is a ring. That freaked me out the first time I saw it. I’d forgotten about a fountain drink that I got from the mess hall and when I remember I was like, oh damn, I’m going to get paperwork wet. No condensation!
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