17 November 2004

I'm, finally, heading out on R&R!

I'm going to try to blog all of this, but it is not going to be as easy as last time. My Palm keyboard is dead and my laptop is on the fritz, as well.

Actually, it is almost like I have already started it.

I was given yesterday off to prepare for the trip. l slept late. Okay, later. I always sleep late. That is one of the joys of working the night shift. I got most of my stuff together yesterday. Then, I had a nice relaxing evening: reading, and watching DVD's.

I read a few more chapters of Joseph Bonnanno's autobiography. It is rather good, but a little self-serving. It, also, skips a lot of the good parts of the story. He explains why he did something, but never gets around to telling you what he did. It gets a little frustrating. I, also, think I might have OD'ed on the Mafia thing. In the last month, I have watched the movies: Mobsters, The Godfather Part I, The Godfather Part II, and most of The Godfather Part III; and read all of one gangster autobiography (Frank Costello) and part of another.

l've, also, been working my way through the second season of The Shield, and Band of Brothers. I'm in the middle of the second disc of four on The Shield, and, last night, I watched the fourth out of ten episodes of Band of Brothers.

It's not that I don't have enough to do. The problem is that, thanks to the hours I work, I am wide awake until about 4 in the morning. The people in the building I live in work normal Army hours and turn into pumpkins by 11 at night. I can do anything in the building I want, as long as I don't disturb them. Basically, anything that involves light or sound would disturb them. The only reason I can get away with reading and watching movies is that I have rigged my bunk (I have a set of bunkbeds to myself) so that it is enclosed, basically. I have a battery-operated lamp and headphones for either my computer or my mini-DVD player. If it involves leaving that space, l am, generally, disturbing someone's sleep.

So, anyway, I planned my "morning" for today, last night. I figured that I ought to get up at 9 to get everything done that I had to before I had to meet the convoy at 1:45. Then, I really got into watching Band of Brothers, an episode of The Shield, and, after having watched all of that heavy stuff, I needed something light to chill out with. It was about this time (almost 2 in the morning) that I re-thought getting up at 9. I could get everything done that I needed, without quite as much time. Getting up at 10 should be sufficient. So, I watched "Not Another Teen Movie".

If you have watched all of the John Hughes teen movies(Pretty in Pink, Sixteen Candles, Breakfast Club, etc.), Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Varsity Blues, et al, and enjoyed them, AND you have an hour and a half of your life that you want to COMPLETELY waste, then "Not Another Teen Movie" is exactly what you are looking for. I watched this on the recommendation of several friends. They thought it was hilarious. I thought it had several amusing parts, in kind of a "Porky's" way. The part with Molly Ringwald is a SCREAM! But, by then, it's not really worth the effort.

18 November

Well, I spent so much time talking about the 16th that I never got around to saying anything about the day I went through yesterday. So, I will pick up where I left off.

I told you about pushing back the time my alarm an hour before I went to bed. (Those of you that have known me for a while can see where this is going.) The alarm went off at ten. (I forgot to mention that I woke up Monday with a sore throat, and it appears that I am catching a cold.) I felt pretty rough. I did a quick mental run down of what I needed to get done, and how I felt. I came to the conclusion that, if I changed the order that I planned on doing things, it would use my time more efficiently and, much to the surprise of many of you out there, I am sure, I could sleep for another hour.

I got up shortly before 11. Got cleaned up, and started packing. Finished that up. I should mention that I was working in a mode that I refer to as "Don't rush, but don't waste any time." Not frantic, not even, really, rushed. Just busy. I had to be at the site to meet the convoy at 1:45, ready to roll. Not that the convoy actually was going to roll at that time. I just had to be there and ready. I did everything I needed to do at the unit, looked at my watch, and thought that can't be right. I double checked everything, and, sure enough, I had done everything I needed to do at the unit with over an hour to spare.

I made arrangements for my ride to the convoy start point to take my luggage and meet me at work. I hopped into my work vehicle and headed off to the MWR. Didn't see the boss. So, I turned over all my work keys to SGT Smith, and grabbed a cup of coffee. BS'ed with SGT Smith for a while, said my goodbye's to everyone, and hopped on my ride to meet the convoy.

To make a long story short, it was a lot of "hurry up and wait" to get the convoy underway. The convoy, itself, was boring. As I have mentioned before, a boring convoy is a good thing. AND to dispel a myth that the media perpetuates, most convoys are boring. There are hundreds, if not thousands, of convoys going from place to place in this country, daily, that you never hear about because there is nothing to tell. They leave on time, have no incidents on the way to their destination, and arrive on time. Don't blame the media for you not hearing about them. They don't report the number of planes that take off and land, daily, on time and without incident either. The closest thing to excitement on the convoy was that I am pretty sure that I was, at least, an inch shorter when I climbed off the back of the truck than when we started. The ride was pretty rough. Iraqi roads are not in the best of shape, and Army cargo trucks are not designed for the comfort of passengers riding in the back. I handed off my M-16 and all of my ammunition to the guy that was going to take care of it for me. You would be amazed at how much lighter the armored vest is after you take 180 rounds of ammunition and the equipment to hold it off.

The people at the passenger terminal informed us that check in for our flight was at 6 AM the next morning. (More on the process of getting on a military flight later.) On hearing this, I knew I had all kinds of time. They put us and our gear in a tent with cots and left us on our own. Got something to eat. Then, settled into my little space for the evening. Wrote my entry for yesterday, watched the next episodes of Band of Brothers and The Shield.

There are no showers, sinks, or, even, real bathrooms out here at the passenger terminal. Just four tents, a shack for the office, and four portajohns. There, also, aren't any lights outside. So, about 10 last night, I needed to go "meditate". Couldn't take a book, because there was no light. I have multiple books on my Palm. I decided to pick up one of those that l had started.

Let me paint this picture for you:
I am sitting in a portajohn in the middle of a war zone. It is about 10:30 at night. The only light I have is provided by the screen of my Palm. And, I am reading a conversation that that took place about 2,000 years ago between Socrates and a man named Meno about the definition and nature of "virtue".

I couldn't decide if this moment was "centering", helping me stay grounded and sane, or, if it was just completely surreal and absurd.


19 November

I got up at about 5:45. We were supposed to check in at the PAX terminal office at 6. I hadn't slept much. I had a great spot in the tent, but it included a broken cot. The cold had only become worse, and I had sneezed and coughed all night.

When I got to the office, almost everyone that was going out on my flight was there. I knew what to expect. So, I hadn't packed any of my stuff, and had just rolled out of bed to get a word. My plan was to go right back to sleep. Almost everyone in my tent had completely packed their stuff and was ready to go right then. They were amazed and completely disappointed when they found out that our flight was scheduled for 9 that night, and we wouldn't do anything towards checking in for the flight for 12 more hours. I, on the other hand, was completely prepared for this and went back to the tent and slept.

A quick aside: in general, the cabin crews for World Airlines suck. More on that later.

I woke up about 3 hours before time to "manifest". l know it sounds like either something destined to happen or an airline employee is going to appear supernaturally, but this when you do what would be "check in" on a real airline. Following so far? Let me recap. "Check in" on a military flight is not when you check in. It is when you find out when to check in. "Manifest" is when you check in. Thoroughly confused yet?

I made sure all my stuff was packed up and got ready for "hurry up, and wait".

We, finally, arrived in Kuwait about midnight. We did what was supposed to be the first day of two days processing to go on leave in about 2 hours between 1 and 3 this morning. It is not so scary that we did what they, normally, drag out into an entire work day in just two hours. I didn't find that out until we were almost done. What is scary is that during those two hours the number of times I thought they were either wasting time or dragging something out much longer than it should have been.

I ended up getting to bed about 4. Had to be up and at a formation where "important" information was going to be put out. Well, the "important" information was either irrelevant to me or a repeat of information that had been beat to death earlier.

The formation did have an upside. It got me out of bed to take care of what had turned into a couple of important things.

Let me backtrack for a moment. I mentioned earlier that I have been coming down with a cold. Yesterday was miserable. All I could get to drink was water. Couldn't get to a PX to get medicine, and I started getting what I thought was one of the worst sinus headaches I have ever had. It was still with me when I woke up, and, by the time the formation was over, it felt like someone was driving a railroad spike through the bridge of my nose.

Second backtrack: I posted some time ago that the tailor from our bazaar was killed. Since then, none of our Iraqi workers have come on post. This includes the only two barbers on this post. I had been trying to get in to see them, but something always came up. By the time the trip started, I was just barely, but very noticeably, out of the bounds of military regs with my hair. Did I mention that the officer who is second in command(Major), and the Command Sergeant Major of the battalion that oversees the MWR are both going on leave now, and they are both going to Germany too? This doesn't quite put me up the creek of organic fertilizer, but it will if I don't get a haircut the first chance I get.

So,to sum up, at the end of the formation, I have a blinding headache that is seated in my sinuses and right behind my eyes, and I have two senior people keeping an eye on me to see that l get a haircut. I, also, have about 5 hours before I have to be anywhere or do anything.

First, I head to the barber shop. This is the great part about having been through here last month: I know where everything is.

Then, off to the PX. Where I buy: mouthwash (the PX on Danger has been out for over a month), some Alka Seltzer Cold medicine, a cup to drink it out of, and, because I am really dragging now, a can of Starbuck's Double Shot. As I walk out of the PX, heading towards the vendor I purchased my "Jokelys" from last month, I down the can of espresso in, pretty much, one gulp. Within 1 minute, I feel my "sinus headache" melt away like an ice sculpture under a heat lamp. I, almost, regretted buying the Alka Seltzer Plus, but not quite. About 10 steps after the headache disappeared, guess who I run into? That's right. The Major and Command Sergeant Major. They loved the haircut.

Shortly after that, I ran into a guy I know. We arrived at Bamberg together, did the three weeks of in processing Germany together. Then, went to different units. He's at a different base in Iraq than I am. I've seen him once before, since we've deployed. He was on Danger a few weeks before the episode with Chewie, and just happened to come into the MWR about the time I came on duty. Now, we're going to R&R at the same time, on the same flight, to the same little town in Germany. The military is providing, basically, an express bus from the airport in Frankfurt to Bamberg. He and I will, probably, be the only ones on it.

Not much to tell after that. My first shower since I started writing this felt good. The process of getting on the plane to Germany (FINALLY!) was more "hurry up and wait", but it was painless, relatively. Customs was a breeze, and I had heard those guys were a real pain. I napped in the terminal. Which probably, with the coffee I have had, explains why I am still wide awake and writing.

To give you a progress report: l should have changed to 20 November. It is 4:20 AM, Iraq time. I have been in the air about 3 hours, or so. We should land in the next hour and a half to two hours. l expect to be home by noon, or so, Germany time, or in about 10 hours. We'll see.

20 November

Well, I'm in Germany. Had to sit through about 6 different briefings. They lasted about an hour. There was about 10 seconds of useful information, total. l can see why these people were left back as rear detachment.

Let me illustrate.

I have just walked into the terminal off of the plane. I am in the desert camoflage uniform. 1st Infantry Division soldiers wear full color patches with this uniform. Since I have been deployed over 30 days to Iraq, l have the right to wear a division patch on my right shoulder. So, l have a large, dark green patch on each shoulder. In the middle of each of those patches is a large, BRIGHT red 1. Because of the way my carry-on luggage has to be carried, I walk into the terminal leading with my right shoulder. Patch slightly lower than my chin. Because of my height, this puts my division patch right in the line of sight of anyone of normal height that walks up to me. The 1st Infantry Division liaison NCO, a woman of average height, walks straight up to me and asks me if I am a 1st Infantry Division soldier. I come real close to telling her that, no, l am just wearing the division patch on both shoulders because it looks cool. ... And after that, get REAL sarcastic. Except for the chaplain, nobody else meeting us was any brighter than the first one. Actually, she seemed brighter than several of the others, which is a scary thought.

I don't know that I have an awful lot of room to talk. There was a bus reserved specifically for the people going to Bamberg. I'm riding home in it as I write this. It's a "short bus."