Afrika Korps

Now I know how Erwin Rommel's troops felt in North Afrika.

Chow time was coming up. So I walked down to work to see if Chief wanted to go to dinner. I noticed that the sky was going purple and dark red.

There were occasional flashes of lightning. We were hoping for rain. The only reprise from the ever clinging dust. I remembered that sand storms sometimes cause lightning flashes. Too bad for us. It was a nice sandstorm and not some rain.

Chief and I raced back to the hooch area and joined a bunch of our sailors on the roof for a nice photo op. Naturally the sand came into the buildings and coated everything in a thin film of grit despite closing doors and such. Life in the suck.

Listening To: Old Crow Medicine Show "Down Home Girl"
Southern Culture On The Skids "Walk Like A Camel"

Same crap different toilet

As different as this tour is from the last one. Many things remain the same.

Using the water out of any tap here will earn you a great case of Saddam's revenge.

Dust will coat anything in a matter of seconds even if it is sealed in a container.

Somebody will institute a new rule just because they can.

The closer to the flagpole, the more REMFs running around enforcing chickenshit rules.

The price of admission

Ok.

I miss being outside the wire.

The feeling of really being out on a limb so far you can't see the tree anymore.

I miss my old team. My new team is great. They would love it outside the wire. I should have been a Marine or Army Infantry officer.

Surface of the sun

It's not even really hot here yet.

This blog will get really boring if I am not going outside the wire and there's nothing but sand too look at.

Due to stupidity the destroyed Iraqi MiGs are off limits. The one Oasis spot is also only accessable by guided tour.

This will be a tour where I struggle for writing material.

My guys already played a prank on me. At least I let them think they did. They tried to convince me an RFID tag was a personnel location device. All senior personnel had to carry it around. I knew what it was and played along.

The sand gets into everything. My feet are raw where some got into my boots. Arg.

Home sweet hades

My first full day back in the sandbox. It has been a year since I have been here.

I wake up to a good sandstorm and nearly 100 degree temps. Ah, spring in Virginia does not seem so bad now!

Still. I am well fed and looked after. Jet lag has made me Mr. Loopey. I slept for 10-12 hours last night and plan on doing so again really soon.

Still do not know how long my mission is. I could be here for a short while or months. Gotta love it!

Livin' the dream.....

Dante's 5th Level of Hell

I am on my 5 hour layover at Dulles Intl Airport.

I'd rather be in a phone booth with 5 angry pumas. Perhaps stuck in a room with my ex-girlfriends and they're armed.

I am draining a 22oz Blue Moon beer (a Lombardo fave) and eating fish & chips. Might as well enjoy a beer before I go to work.

Still feeling "Lost In Translation" Oh well.

The Road To Perdition

Sitting in the Airport waiting for the first flight.

The start of a 20+ hour journey. Solo. No fast friends met in training this time. I am an individual replacement. A spare part ordered up to replace a defective one. Fresh meat.

I feel alone right now. The disconnection is starting from my "home" life and going back to my "war" life. Communication fails, familiar becomes unfamiliar. The unknown becomes the norm.

TSA took apart my carry on. Unidentified "metal" in my back pack. Dog Tags on my boots. A woman asked why tags on my boots. It seemed funny to her until I told her. I told her it's in case my feet and legs get disconnected from my torso. Her condescending smile turned to a shocked dismayed look.

What do these people think happens when people die in war? No patriotic music playing in the background. No John Woo movie explosions. No hero gasping his last wishes to a buddy.

No glory. Just death. Idiot public. I like making the sheep wince with reality.

It's good my job there will be a cake walk. I wonder if I will miss the "outside the wire" time. That adrenalin rush is addictive. Putting a round in the chamber and checking gear as we walk out the gate to go to the secure parking lot to get our trusty ride.

Cadence To Arms

Tomorrow I head out to Iraq.

I only found out Thursday I am going. Not the planned deployment i had been easing into like a hot bath. This is a bucket of partially frozen camel manure dropped from a passing B-52. Everything is happening so fast my head is still spinning. Bewildering to say the least. I did not even get time to say good-bye to my Daughter face to face. Enough to make a grown man cry. You start going over the what-could-be's and the what-if's. Saying bye bye over the phone when you want nothing more to be there.

Still. It means a lot of extra pay for me. It means more money in my Daughter's college fund. Good for my career, blah, blah, blah.

I still cannot help feeling kind of maudlin and lonely. I will certainly miss my family and friends. That is what makes this hard. I do not care about any 'danger' associated with being there. That is a variable one cannot control. Afghanistan and Iraq are not epicenters of danger. Downtown anywhere U.S.A. can be just as bad if not worse.

I still love the adventure of it. The seeing of new places. Getting to do what many will never get the chance to do. Seeing what most will never see.

Once I settle into a routine, I'll be better. The next few days will be the hardest. That in-between state where the road ahead is foggy.