MREeater

A Surge in Stupidity

2006-12-20T15:18:00.001-07:00

The idea of “surging” troops into Baghdad seems to be gaining popularity. That’s unfortunate, because it’s a bad idea.

Various numbers are in play, but they tend to range from 20,000 to 40,000, or two to four divisions. That might be enough to make a small difference in just Baghdad for a time, but it won’t help the overall situation. Consider the higher number. I’ve seen various tooth to tail ratios, usually 1 fighter to 3, or 4 or 7 supporters. In my unit I’d estimate it was closer to 1 to 1, or perhaps 1 to 2. Much of the support work has been contracted, leaving soldiers to be soldiers, not cooks.

Assume 1 to 2. That leaves 20,000 soldiers available for duty. If they work 12 hour shifts every day, that leaves 10,000 available for patrol at a time. 12/7 is unsustainable for long. Soldiers need to eat and sleep and maintain weapons and vehicles and plan and practice for the next operation, so more likely is three 8-hour shifts daily, which puts about 6700 soldiers on the street.

Soldiers run in packs. We wouldn’t leave the FOB with less than 9, and that was for a routine op. 4 HMMWVs, each with 5 soldiers, makes 20 per patrol, or checkpoint, or something small like that. Even at a checkpoint you have to have sufficient firepower that the soldiers can’t get overwhelmed. They have to have enough security to hold off an attack until a quick reaction force arrives. I’d want 20 soldiers at a check point. So the 4 divisions can set up 335 checkpoints, in a city of 5-6 million. That won’t have a momentum shifting impact. It might stabilize a small area, until they leave, but that’s it.

Even worse, I don’t hear any analysis of how they pick the number. You don’t just throw in some troops and hope they make a difference. You start with an objective and plan what it will take to achieve it. Example; in armored combat static defense has a 3 to 1 advantage over the attacking force. One battalion in defense can stand off 3 attacking. So if you know the size of the enemy force you’re attacking, you know the size of the force to attack with.

Some smart Army planner somewhere has, I guarantee, made a plan to secure Baghdad, or at least discrete chunks of it. How many roads in, how many soldiers per checkpoint per road, vehicle and weapons system needed, operations tempo (8 or 12 hour shifts, or whatever), etc. I was a planner for 3 years and did this all the time, our plans shop did it constantly, it’s a very well developed skill of the Army. I suspect these plans won’t see the light of day because they will either show the fallacy of sending in just 4 divisions, or will show how small an effect the 4 divisions will have.

I think Americans don’t support the war because it is pointless. If we had a true plan, clear objectives and timetables, I think most folks would sign on. They won’t support the current open ended no-plan plan. And of course, the big question is, what exactly are we getting for lives and money? Save face? Is that it?

On Patrol in Kirkuk

2006-08-29T04:10:00.000-06:00

A short video of a HMMWV patrol in Kirkuk. Taken October 2005. No shooting, just gives a feel for daily life for Iraqis.

Six months later

2006-06-14T08:26:00.000-06:00

I've been home for about six months now, and a blurb I wrote for a local publication kind of sums things up. Here it is.

Slipping seamlessly back into civilian life does not exactly describe my experience since returning from Iraq. I remembered how to drive a car, operate a washer, look up a statute, turn right on red and ride a bicycle, but I’ve enjoyed odd little hiccups of reentry.

In my absence, my civilian job migrated to another employee, never to return, so I have been learning new job duties at the Idaho Industrial Commission. My military position, Inspector General, was a casualty of the 116th’s reorganization and it vanished, dropping me into a slot for which I’ve not been trained, with duties that have not been explained to me, and with a boss who has not been identified. With these parameters it will be either very easy or impossible to succeed.

These things have changed. I am now easily startled; a ringing phone will accelerate my pulse, and a loud sound will stop it. I get very emotional hearing about injured and killed soldiers, as if I personally knew the victim. When I left Iraq I had a certain fondness for the Iraqi people, but my heart has hardened with each American casualty and I have little good will left for Iraqis. I have much more experience with listening to people explain their problems, but have much less patience for it. I have been strangely reluctant to balance my check book or figure out my monthly finances. Time spent with my children feels incredibly precious.

My memories of Iraq are bright and fresh and yet it seems to have happened a long time ago. I miss being involved in such an important and historic endeavor; the simplicity of the lifestyle (no cooking, no dishes to wash, few choices to make); my fellow soldiers; the way work and personal life were as one. I don’t want to go back, but would if called.

The sky is very blue here, and I’m still waiting for a hot day. It’s great to be back.

Before and after, or then and now, pix below.

Craven and Cowardly

2006-06-06T19:50:00.000-06:00

I guess something happened at Haditha, but until we get the facts I can’t draw any conclusions. I do know two things about it, however. One, if the Marines murdered innocent civilians, especially children, then they should receive full punishment.

Before I get to number two, I’d also like to note that it seems like Marine tactics should be reviewed. Marines purposefully instill a violent warrior ethos, which can serve them well in war. It can also lead to atrocities if not balanced by a strong values. Maybe I just notice Marines more but it seems like they get into this kind of trouble more than soldiers. Soldiers outnumber marines in Iraq by, what, 5 to 1, or something like that? Wouldn’t you expect more bad news about soldiers? Also, Marines seem to be in the news more for losing large groups at a time. I recall an incident last fall when 12 or so Marines, including female Marines, were killed by a roadside bomb.

I haven’t done the research so can’t really say, but I’d bet that more Marines are killed per capita than soldiers. I don’t think this is just because they are in more violent places. I have great respect for Marines and their war fighting capability; I’m just saying that I hope a high level review is conducted of their tactics and ethos because it looks like Marines are involved in problems that should be prevented.

The other thing I know about the killings in Haditha is that I keep hearing media reports of Iraqis complaining about the killings. (Apparently people were killed; whether Marines did that improperly I don’t know.)

Ya know, I am sick of hearing those complaints, and I have about zero sympathy for the Iraqis. I do feel sorry for the kids, but the adults, f**k them. Those bastards know damn good and well who the insurgents are, the ones who are trying to kill Americans and other Iraqis, and either they sympathize or they’re too goddam craven to stand up and report the info to the authorities.

These towns and neighborhoods are composed such that everybody knows what’s going on. They are much more personal than here in the States where you might not know your neighbor and be aware of their comings and goings. The people, culture and infrastructure make it pretty much impossible for the neighbors not to know.

If the Iraqis would step up and help stop the insurgents, our billions of dollars could help get the country back on its feet. But no, they won’t help out. They just stand around and bitch about how bad it is.

I know I’m generalizing, that there are exceptions, but yes, I think they are generally a bunch of cowards. They are not providing the crucial help and information, and they enable the insurgents to destroy infrastructure and kill innocents. F**k them and the camels they rode in on. American young people are getting killed over there, trying to help stand up the country. I say a pox on the worthless bastard Iraqis.

I hope the Marines didn’t do what has been alleged. It is wrong and not consistent with our ethos, but I can see how our military forces could wig out in that situation, given the depth of my feelings even at this remove. A bad deal all the way around.

Medals

2006-05-15T19:56:00.000-06:00

These are the four medals that all soldiers deployed to Iraq get. I think they are in order of precedence from left to right, although I'm not exactly sure. From left to right they are: Armed Forces Reserve Achievement Medal; Global War on Terrorism Meda; Iraqi Campaign Medal; and National Defense medal. I had 3 or 4 of the AFRAMs, and this is my third ND medal, though many reservists got it for the first time on deployment. It is pretty much an active duty medal.

Medals became a very charged issue in my unit. The scuttlebutt was that because the 42 ID was a NG division, it had an unrealistically stiff standard for medals and combat badges.

Deployment Cost Me My Job

2006-04-19T20:29:00.000-06:00

I have previously written that I got new job duties upon my return from active duty. The job was explained to me to be a promotion, and I got a small raise, so I wasn't greatly upset. I do miss the old job and don't like the new one as well.

Also, I had asked for the new duties. I had wanted them as extra duties to the job I held when I left. However, as it turned out, I lost the old duties and just got the new ones. I thought the change had occurred because of my request.

Over the three months I've been back at work, I've heard a few comments and learned some things that made me wonder. I had kind of an epiphany today and realized that my request had nothing to do with the change. I can't go into much detail because folks at work read this blog, but I'm comfortable with my conclusion.

Anyway, another casualty of war. A minor one in many ways, but one that changed my life and career, forever. Still, I don't have to share my office with this critter as I did in Kirkuk, so life is still better now.

1945 vs. 2005

2006-04-07T18:36:00.000-06:00

I got the following in a email, but thought it is worth sharing. Hat Tip to 1SG J.B. Head for sending it to me.

1945 - NCO'S had a typewriter on their desks for doing daily reports.
2005- Everyone has an Internet access computer, and they wonder why no work is getting done.

1945 - We painted pictures of girls on airplanes to remind us of home.
2005 - Do it now and see what happens

1945 - If you got drunk off duty your buddies would take you back to the dorms to sleep it off.
2005 - If you get drunk they slap you in rehab and ruin your career.

1945 - You were taught to aim at your enemy and shoot him.
2005 - You spray 500 bullets into the brush, don't hit anything, and retreat because you're out of ammo.

1945 - Canteens were made of steel, and you could heat coffee or hot chocolate in them.
2005 - Canteens are made of plastic, you can't heat anything in them, and they always taste like plastic.

1945 - They collected enemy intelligence and analyzed it.
2005 - They collect your pee and analyze it.

1945 - If you didn't act right, the First Sergeant put you in the brig until you straightened up.
2005 - If you don't act right, they start a paper trail that follows you forever.

1945 - Medals were awarded to heroes who saved lives at the risk of their own.
2005 - Medals are awarded to people who work at headquarters.

1945 - You slept in barracks like a soldier.
2005 - You sleep in a dormitory like a college kid.

1945 - You ate in a mess hall, which was free, and you could have all the food you wanted.
2005 - You eat in a dining facility, every slice of bread or pad of butter costs, and you better not take too much.

1945 - We defeated powerful countries like Germany and Japan.
2005 - We fight ideological wars with no specific enemies like the war on drugs and the war on terrorism, with no victory in sight.

1945 - If you wanted beer and conversation you went to the NCO or Officer's Club.
2005 - The beer will cost you $3.50, membership is forced, and someone is watching how much you drink.

1945 - The Exchange had bargains for soldiers who didn't make much money.
2005 - You can get better and cheaper merchandise at Wal-Mart and K-Mart.

1945 - We called the enemy names like "Krauts" and "Japs" because we didn't like them.
2005 - We call the enemy the "opposing force" or "aggressor" because we don't want to offend them.

1945 - Wars were planned and run by generals with lots of important victories.
2005 - Wars are planned by politicians with lots of equivocating.

1945 - All you could think about was getting out and becoming a civilian, again.
2005 - All you can think about is getting out and becoming a civilian, again.

Stop using our troops to score cheap political points

2006-04-05T09:11:00.000-06:00

I was reading an article about the towns in Wisconsin that voted to bring home the troops. The AP article written by Emily Fredrix contained the following:
"The morale of soldiers - and their safety - could dip when they hear about such referendums passing, said Bill Richardson, treasurer of Vote No To Cut And Run, a group that opposed the measures.
"It's a political statement and it's hurting people and it could cost lives," said Richardson, 63, a one-time bandmaster in the Wisconsin Army National Guard."

I'll tell you, I am so sick of people speaking for "the soldiers" in Iraq. It's just stupid on its face. "The soldiers" are just like Americans everywhere. They differ and have different experiences and opinions.

Sure, some soldiers may get bummed out that the folks back home don't support the war. Others will probably get excited that there is a chance they'll get out of there early, or not have to go back. I just returned from an 18 month deployment, 11 of which were in Iraq, and I'm still a member of the National Guard. I think most soldiers, being educated and on the whole pretty intelligent, will realize the votes are just politics and not likely to translate to anything meaningful in their lives.

Anytime a person speaks for "the soldiers" as a group the person is just trying to use the soldiers as an excuse to promote his or her own viewpoint. I think it is exploiting our troops, and I'm sick of hypocrites who say they support the troops using them for cheap political purposes.

A simple thing

2006-04-04T18:33:00.000-06:00

I have been unpacking my stuff that just arrived from Iraq. I had a large molded-plastic foot locker packed with various and sundry items; books, another pair of boots, posters, 4-cup coffee pot, DVDs, shampoo, batteries, etc. Stuff that I didn't really want to toss out, but stuff that I could live without. The foot locker, once so important to me, is now stored ignominiously outside in the rain with the hoses.

In preparation to come home, in September we packed some boxes and foot lockers , stashed them in a CONEX and locked it up. While in Iraq I had received packages in the mail (Yes!) and used these mailing boxes to consolidate items that went into the foot locker that went into the CONEX. As I unpacked today, I emptied the mailing boxes and tossed them into my garbage can.

As I unpacked I recalled the many mailing boxes I discarded while I was in Iraq. The difference was that in Iraq I stripped off any names and addresses on the boxes before tossing them. We didn't want the bad guys to get our names and ranks, and especially didn't want them getting the return addresses. In one round up of insurgents, the soldiers recovered a stack of magazines which still carried the mailing labels showing names and addresses. Many of them were sent to the soldier's home in the states and then forwarded to the FOB, thus showing soldier's home address. We worried that the family back home could be targeted by the knuckleheads.

Here I didn't worry about the names on the packages. A tiny but telling freedom that we all enjoy.

Jumpy at home

2006-04-04T17:17:00.000-06:00

I've been home for about five months, and I'm adjusting, though more slowly than I thought. I sat in the conference room at work last week. Just outside the room was a door the closed automatically, and closed pretty firmly.

Each time it shut, which was every couple of minutes or so, it would bang, and I would jump. After a few minutes I was feeling kind of woozy and my heart was hammering away. I almost left the room. I was not able to concentrate on the meeting I was attending.

I was not a jumpy person before Iraq, but I sure am now.

***

Some of our equipment has begun to arrive. Half of my stuff was unloaded last weekend, and hopefully the other half will arrive and can be unloaded next drill.

***

Went to yet another change of command ceremony on Sunday. The incoming commander told me that his chief priority is recruiting. Not training, recruiting. Big Army is talking about doing away with at least one Guard Brigade, and key factor will be personnel strength. Of the five under discussion, ours most recently came off deployment and is reorganizing, so our strength percentage is the lowest of the group. The losing brigade will be broken up and assigned out, piecemeal, to other units. Also, a good many jobs, both full-time and weekend, will disappear.

The first picture is of burning oil wells.

The second picture is also of burning oil wells.

The last picture is of an oil well being put out. Note the water being sprayed on the fire, and the white smoke.

More artwork

2006-04-02T21:59:00.000-06:00

Sorry about the hiatus from posting; took my daughter to a couple of colleges to see if she'd like to go there in the fall.

More pix of military artwork. If you should happen to want a high res copy for some reason, drop me a line and I'll be happy to send one or more to you. I'm still struggling with the photo ability of blogger, so they don't look as organized as I'd like, but I'm working on that.

BTW, some of our CONEX's got here, but not all of them. Most of my neat stuff is still in transit. The stuff I had to send early, that I thought I'd do without, is here. The important stuff, like my TV, that I sent later is still in transit.

And, a pre-emptive apology; I may accidently upload an image more than once; sorry.

Artwork

2006-03-22T19:17:00.000-07:00

I am trying to upload some pictures of military art work. I've seen photos of nose gunner art from WWII, and I think that this artwork is kind of in the same category.

I'm having trouble with Blogger uploading pix, so I'm limited to just one pic per post.

Art work

2006-03-20T17:31:00.000-07:00

A couple of photos showing some ofthe art work
around the FOB. The window looks like you're looking into a western cabin, complete with cavalry hat. It was painted on a piece of plywood that was covering a window. Almost every window was covered, I think for shrapnel or blast protection. If a rocket hit near the window, it would shatter the window and send the glass flying.

The other picture is of art work painted on a concrete barrier. Fairly typical.

Transfer of Authority

2006-03-12T12:17:00.000-07:00

I'm going to upload some of my favorite pictures, starting with some of soldiers.

This is a photo from our outgoing transfer of authority, when we handed the battle off to the 101st Airborne. This shows our Commanding General saluting. Our unit crest is below him, and he's surrounded by both the US and Iraqi flags. Our soldier is in tan, and the 101st soldier is in the new ACUs.

This photo is of a battalion commander, awaiting the action. The 101st Div Commander was late for the ceremoney, and we all stood around waiting for him.

This photo shows our XO, surrounded by cameras from mostly Iraqi media.

Self Destruction

2006-03-11T09:26:00.000-07:00

Sometimes the bad guys just take themselves out. The first picture shows what had been an Iraqi Army checkpoint between Kirkuk and Hawija. Hawija was a hot spot, with lots of former Baathists and al-Quaeda members and sympathizers. I read an article that lately the people of Hawija have been turning on the al-Quaeda types.

Anyway, one night a car/suicide bomber pulled up to the checkpoint building and detonated, and as you can see pancaked the building. The driver was killed, and I think the Iraqi soldier manning the checkpoint. However, several other Iraqi soldiers were sleeping on top of the building. They rode it down, and walked away.

The other picture is of a car (BMW) driven by a terrorist. He and his sidekick stopped to emplace an IED, but it exploded. The point of detonation was behind the front tire. What was left of the driver was on the other side of the car. The sidekick was pretty much vaporized; only his foot was found.

Purple Heart Ceremony

2006-03-08T16:30:00.000-07:00

This is a photo of a purple heart award ceremony, held at the unit which received, by far, the most purple hearts.

The other is a close up of the soldiers at the ceremony. I wonder what's going through their minds?

Still waiting

2006-03-07T08:09:00.000-07:00

The highlight of drill last weekend was a mandatory ethics brief. We still don't have much to do because we haven't developed training schedules for the year and because our equipment still has not arrived.

We can't really do training schedules because of the huge reorganization and reshuffle. When a battalion moves from south Idaho to north Idaho, that tends to suck all available time. Essentially we will be doing only individual catch-as-catch-can (aka hip pocket) training.

Our equipment is arriving in Colorado, and is being staged to ship here. It should be here this month, and then we can start to unpack. Personally, I'm most looking forward to getting my nice Bose computer speakers so I can play music while at work.

Analysis? Whose Analysis?

2006-03-05T09:59:00.000-07:00

Your analysis.

Saturday morning on drill weekend, I went to my work place and finished setting up my new office, then went to track down my laptop computer. I had left it with the IT folks to configure for the Gowen Field network. After getting it back, I stopped by my company's orderly room, which is in the same building as the IT office.

I have been trying for about 18 months to get an evaluation report fixed. It was sent to me in Iraq, but no one had the program necessary to print it. I couldn't get the company clerk to send me a printable version, so I just stopped in yesterday to have her print it off. It needs to be signed and then formally filed.

As I talked to her, the company First Sergeant walked by, looked at me and said "I think you're on our list." He then went to check and returned saying, yes, I was on the list to submit to a urinalysis. This was about 0930. I told him fine (having no choice in the matter) but that I needed to prepare for the test (drinking a bunch of coffee and water).

This is pretty common because they don’t give you any warning that you get to contribute a sample, and you may have already drained the holding tank by the time you’re notified.

I went back to my office, worked on the computer, and drank liquids. Having taken what seems like a zillion piss-tests (probably a few dozen), I have learned that I want to really have to go before I try to fill the bottle.

The way the Army collects its samples is that you take off your shirt, wash your hands (to avoid contaminating the sample), and fill the bottle. The uncomfortable part is that there is a test proctor who wants to observe the action to ensure that you don’t fill the bottle with something other than your own personal warm specimen. And by observe the action, I mean the guy wants to see your equipment as you produce the sample. That’s why you have to take off your shirt; it might impede the view.

I tend to seize up and get stage fright when someone is watching me so closely. Accordingly, it helps to have a considerable pressure built up at test time. I achieved that after about an hour and a half. I returned to the orderly room at 1120, ready for action, but found that the proctors had left early for lunch so they could be back at 1300 to participate in a change of command ceremony. They wouldn’t be available until later the ceremony.

No way could I wait that long, so we decided I might just try later in the afternoon, after the ceremony, even though I would have to depressurize before then. They ended up not being available later, so I didn’t take the test. As the 1st Sgt. said, if you miss one of the “random” tests you tend to pop up on the next three or so “random” tests. So I’ve got that to look forward to.

The bright spot, for me, is that I’m not female. They have the same requirement of the eagle-eyed proctor. I suspect that their experience is probably even less pleasant than what the males endure.

Chemical Ali's Swimming Pool

2006-03-04T10:24:00.000-07:00

You probably recall the infamous Chemical Ali , known for gassing and killing thousands of Kurds. He had several villas west of Kirkuk, one of which was in the middle of a small FOB. Our soldiers lived in the villa and other buildings.

As you can see, the soldiers turned Chemical Ali's swimming pool into their clothesline for drying laundry.

Hillbilly armor

2006-03-03T09:54:00.000-07:00

I have a picture that shows the front of a HMMWV after an encounter with an IED. The front end was completely blown off. The engine, fenders, tires, everything is missing. You just see the windshield and the firewall. The occupants were not seriously injured, which is testimony to the design and build of the HMMWVs, and to the personal protection soldiers wear. In my unit, we were all required to wear ear and eye protection every time we left the FOB, in addition to our helmets and body armor.

This type of photo is now forbidden by the Army to be posted, but since I’m in the civilian mode at the moment, I’m not subject to that rule. (This weekend at drill is another story.) The Army’s rationale is that posting such photos will help the enemy by allowing them to learn of the effectiveness of their attacks, so that they can improve their techniques. I agree with this, and would not post a photo that could help the enemy or endanger US soldiers.

In this case, the attack was months ago, and I could post the picture without referencing when or where the attack occurred. I do not think the enemy could learn much from it. I have chosen not to post the photo, however, I guess because it could encourage the enemy. Even if they can’t learn from it, they could look at it and see that IED attacks can be affective. Boost morale, in effect.

So instead I have posted a picture of what we called “Hillbilly Armor.” This photo is of a 5-ton truck. The window was removed, and a piece of one-quarter inch steel was slipped down into the door. This was the protection for the vehicle as it was driven from Kuwait, through Baghdad, to Kirkuk.

The other photo is of a HMMWV with hillbilly armor strapped to the sides of the bed rails. Soldiers left our FOB every day in this vehicle, and this was their protection. This was used only for a very short daily trip into Kirkuk, and no one in the back was ever injured due to lack of armor. Still, the soldiers were not very happy about riding in this.

The US is making good progress in equipping the force with up-armored vehicles, but it still has a way to go. Our unit made efforts to allocate the safest vehicles to the most unsafe areas. The Army being the Army, some of the best vehicles were assigned to senior leadership, and would sometimes just sit for days without leaving the FOB. Soldiers saw this and complained bitterly about it, and to their credit, our leadership did try to respond and allow their vehicles to be used when not otherwise needed. However, by then it was too late and the “urban myth” of the up-armored HMMWV that never leaves the FOB was widely believed.

After the search

2006-03-02T08:45:00.000-07:00

This photo shows a scene right after a knock and search of this Kirkuk home. It was a couple of days before the Constitutional referendum and we were searching in neighborhoods around polling places. The idea was to see if we could find weapons, to send the signal that we were out looking for weapons in case anyone got a bright idea, and to reassure the locals that we were working to prevent election violence.

Seems odd, but the people liked us searching, for these reasons. They didn’t seem to mind us searching their homes, but who knows for sure.

We entered the front yard of this home. As usual, there is no grass, just either packed earth or concrete. We saw the camouflage uniform hanging on the clothesline, and this immediately drew our attention. Turned out the uniform belonged to the homeowner, who was a captain in the Iraqi Army.

Anyway, after that bit of drama, we completed the search and chatted with the captain. The picture shows one of our soldiers, relaxed and smoking a cigarette, talking with someone on the other side of the gate.

FOB Images

2006-03-01T09:58:00.000-07:00

This post shows some various photos. This first one showing two Hummers illustrates the effect of the armor on the Hummv. The one on the right has the add on package, which you can tell by the door window. Note how much lower it is than the one on right, and how the tires are tilted in at the top. This is due to the increased weight. Once the suspension gets this bad, they don't handle well and risk rolling over.

Even in a war zone you have to keep the car clean.

And you have to keep the parking lot clean.
And you have to get around. This soldier bought a bicycle in the PX and used it to get around, even in the 115 degree heat. Of course, the soldier also had to carry his weapon over his shoulder.

Missing equipment

2006-02-27T15:37:00.000-07:00

An article in the New York Times today reported that Governors are concerned that the Iraq war is stripping NG units of equipment needed to respond to state emergencies. I have not read the article because I don't subscribe to the online NYT, but I read a couple of references to it.

As I have written, we did leave a good deal of our equipment in Iraq, including weaspons and weaspons systems, radios, night vision equipment, and vehicles. Many of the vehicles we shipped back have been diverted to a Depot Rebuild, and we won't see them again.

So, I guess I'd have to agree that right now we have a vastly reduced capacity to respond to a state emergency, though we're not exactly shorn little lambs, shivering in the breeze.

The picture is of our company motor pool in February, 90 days after we returned, and not a single vehicle in the compound. The other pic shows one of the intangible advantages to being in the Guard. Driving to drill, I got to see this fantastic sunrise, which I otherwise would have slept through.

The Long War

2006-02-22T07:47:00.000-07:00

I heard a news report this morning that what was formerly called the Global War on Terror is now called The Long War by the Bush Administration. The folks interviewed made several salient points. You can't really have a war on a tactic (terror); you have wars on countries, groups, etc. Another person said that calling it a long war works because it implies that the military budget can't be cut; you don't cut the military when you're at war.

This person also noted that by far most of the spending is on conventional weapons and programs and very little is budgeted for anti-insurgency efforts. I took his point to be that the military-industrial complex is simply using the Long War as a rationale for defense spending in order to enrich the defense industry. This is a fairly cynical conclusion, though many people seem to reach it. I suppose some folks might support the war for personal monetary gain, but I don't think there's some big conspiracy to conduct war as a means of consumption in order to enrich the suppliers.

Anyway, at last drill, I attended a briefing on the Army's big picture plan. Apparently Guard and Reserve units, and active units with some different wrinkles, are going to be put on a six year plan. The year after a deployment, such as my unit is in right now, the unit will be recovering from the deployment. Manpower will be down and the unit will be missing much of its equipment.

As the unit rebuilds its combat power over the next few years, it gets increased funding, eventualy resulting in a deployment, or National Training Center rotaion, in the 5th or 6th year. Starting year four, the units will start doing 3-week Annual trainings (instead of 2-week).

As I sat there, it struck me that the plan is now for a Guard unit to be deployed every six years. This dovetails with the idea of The Long War.

Turmoil

2006-02-11T17:11:00.000-07:00

Our brigade is going through an amazing amount of turmoil, and the next 9 months hold a great deal of uncertainty.

Pretty much all senior leadership has turned over. Brigade cmdr, Bde Cmd Sgt Major, all battalion cmdrs and most CSMs. We have a new S1, S2, S6, S7, Deputy Bde Cmdr, and probably a new S3 (These are the various primary staff officers.) We have a new JAG, and the IG slot is going away.

In addition, we are completely reorganizing the brigade. The M1 tanks are going away, and those soldiers will become MPs and cooks and unmanned aerial vehicle operators and military intelligence types. The support battalion is moving to another part of the state. The truck drivers and material handlers and mechanics are going to become part of a recon and security battalion, driving Bradleys. The combat engineers in north Idaho are going to become the new support battalion. All this is happening in the months after returning from deployment, and leaders are trying to be sensitive to additional demands being placed on soldiers.

The numbers of people qualified in their jobs is going to plummet, and lots of folks will have to go to schools. Some folks will choose not to stay in because they don’t want to leave home again so soon, or because they don’t want to do the new job, and our personnel numbers are going to decline.
Recruiting is going to be a huge push. Idaho is one of five pilot states that will now pay a “bounty” on recruits. If I refer a recruit, I get $1,000 when s/he signs up, and another $1,000 when s/he completes schooling. Pretty much anyone is eligible for the bounty, even civilians.

Reunion

2006-02-11T07:13:00.000-07:00

Last night, Friday, we had our first drill with pretty much everyone in attendance. Two things stood out. On a drill before mobilization, we'd show up, mill around, say hello to other soldiers, have formation, then split for our various destinations and duties. Last night was not so different, except the feel of reunion in the air. People were shaking hands and hugging. Many soldiers lingered after formation to chat and catch up. There is clearly a bond among these soldiers that was not there before we mobilized.

I also couldn't help but notice the uniforms. I counted six different uniforms. Some wore green BDUs with beret, some with black boots, others with tan boots. Some wore tan DCUs with beret, or with the field cap. Some wore the new grey uniform. One soldier wore his PT uniform, I guess because he haad to take a PT test. It was a motley crew, and reminded me of the Iraqi Army, which also seemed to wear whatever they wanted.

The reason for our variation is that the new gray uniform is being phased in, while the green one is going out. However, the new ones haven't been issued yet, so any gray ones were self-purchased. Many soldiers have their uniforms still in shipment back from Kuwait, so the tan DCU is the only one they have. Some of our soldiers did not deploy, so only have the green uniform.

This variety in a sense reflects the turmoil the brigade is going through as it adjusts and reorganizes.

Funeral

2006-02-06T18:15:00.000-07:00

Here are some pictures, the likes of which you probably won't see in traditional media. This is a "ramp ceremony" for a soldier killed in Iraq.

I had some trouble getting the pictures in order. What you're seeing is the coffin being unloaded from the ambulance. An honor guard, lead by the Brigade Chaplain, carrying the coffin into the aircraft, and the aircrew saluting the coffin as it is emplaced.

Most of the rest of the Brigade is in formation in the background, saluting the fallen soldier.

Drill surprises

2006-02-03T19:00:00.000-07:00

I talked to a soldier who has been giveninformation about our upcoming drills that has her upset. By some regulation, we don't have to drill the first 60 days after demobilizing, so our first mandatory drill is next weekend, Feb 11-12. Our equipment hasn't arrived from Iraq yet, so we won't have too much to do in February. It should be here by March.

Traditionally, drill is the first weekend of the month. This may vary for the Superbowl, Mother's Day and opening day of hunting season. Most other weekends don't get much consideration for conflicts. Our April drill is the first weekend, i.e., April 1-2. Turns out that spring break for the school kids is the week of March 27-31. So, the last weekend of spring break will be drill, and apparently we will be drilling a MUTA 5, i.e., Friday night and all day Saturday and Sunday.

I had planned to take my kids on a vacation during spring break. This was to be our big reunion after me being gone for 18 months. I now have to reassess. Being back on Friday instead of Sunday will take some adjustments. The soldier I talked to was very annoyed about this imposition, as she also had plans to travel with her kids. It is not easy to get out of drill, even though the concrete repercussions aren't that severe. It's more a matter of pissing off your boss than specific punishment. Plus, it's bad form for a leader.

Another circumstance also had her irritated, but this story needs a bit of background. When we mobilized in June 2004, a few thousand local soldiers assembled in a local arena for a goodbye tribute. Mayors from 6 local towns showed up, but the mayor of Boise didn't. He is a Democrat, and the rest are republicans. Our Adjutant General, a 2-star (Major General), spoke at the rally. He is the top state Guard officer, appointed by the (Republican) governor. At the rally he took a shot at the Boise mayor for not being there.

This put the Boise mayor on the defensive, and he showed up at our departure to shake everyone's hand and give out a City of Boise lapel pin. He also put together a plan for a big welcome home party, involving local units and many of the larger corporations and businesses.

Since we have the first 60 days off from drill, the party couldn’t be in the first two months if attendance is mandatory. At first everyone is sick of the whole army scene, and probably wouldn’t attend voluntarily. Also, it’s cold and the streets can be slick. So, the party was planned for Memorial Day.

That has a nice connection to honoring the troops, and the weather will be nice. As it turns out, in order to support the party, drill has been scheduled for Memorial Day weekend. So for the third Memorial Day we will be in uniform and away from our families. This is also a MUTA 5, and will pretty much eat up the 3-day weekend.

Many soldiers are not in a happy frame of mind about military service, after Iraq. Such unnecessary impositions will probably contribute to soldiers voting with their feet.

Home Town Humor

2006-02-03T18:48:00.000-07:00

A dairy farm operates right next to the new high school. The owner seems to have a sense of humor, as he recently posted this sign next to a drainage pond. The pond drains the milking shed and the feeding troughs, so it's essentially a cesspool. If you can't read the sign, it says "Absolutely No Fishing or Swimming!"

You might notice the houses in background. They have been built in the last month, as Kuna grows, a classic case of coming to the nuisance. The diary farm has been there for years, but not the town has grown up to its edge. Pretty soon, I suppose, efforts to run the farm and its flys and odors off will begin.

Don't ask, don't tell

2006-01-31T19:51:00.000-07:00

While in Iraq a young male soldier came to me, pretty shaken up. He had checked his email and found that he had received a homosexual solicitation from a soldier on the FOB. The email praised his attractiveness, offered some explicit sexual acts, and invited his response. The message noted that the sender had seen the recipient around, and wanted to meet him, and wanted to have sex with him. The soldier was shaken because, not being gay, he was wondering if he came off as gay. He was also kind of angry, feeling that such a contact wasn’t right. He didn’t want to be around the sender, and requested a transfer.

Per the Army’s regulations on “Don’t ask, don’t tell”, investigation into alleged homosexuality is pretty tightly controlled. A soldier can’t be investigated upon a mere rumor. It takes an overt statement or act. Only the soldier’s commander can initiate the investigation, and who can be contacted during the investigation is limited. Since we had the explicit statements, we were justified in beginning an investigation.

The sender had used the Army’s email system to track down the email of the recipient, and he set up a bogus name to try to hide his identity. However, the latter effort was not successful, and we found the sender pretty quickly. His commander asked him if he sent the email, he admitted it, and he was discharged and sent home lickety split, within a couple of weeks. Normally a discharge takes a month or more.

The system worked pretty well. The sender’s identity was not revealed, nor was the reason for his discharge. A few people did know, of course, but word didn’t get around like you might expect. If the sender hadn’t sent the email, or if he had sent it to a willing recipient, no one would have known and he would have been left alone. The sender was a filler from a coastal state, not from one of the hometown units, so repercussions are unlikely, other than his military career is over.

I didn’t hear of any other gay soldiers, but lesbian soldiers were pretty visible. There was a general agreement about who was probably a lesbian, and I came to believe that the scuttlebutt was accurate. For one reason, I talked to a female soldier who roomed with an admitted lesbian. (They were both fine with that.) This source confirmed the rumors, and I guess she’d know as well as anyone. They seemed fairly open about it, but made no statement or committed no acts that would trigger an investigation. The command climate was such that it had many more important things to worry about than a person’s sexual orientation. As long as command was not forced to take action, it didn’t.

Thus, some of these gals were pretty casual about it. I ran into one when I was going home on leave and she was returning. She told me that her “partner” (code word for sweetheart) had split with her on leave, and she had to find and buy a new home, move out and then into the new place, all on her two weeks leave.

Interestingly, two of these lesbian soldiers were partners before we got mobilized. They were in the same section, and pretty much roomed together the entire deployment. In Iraq, the two of them shared a CHU, with just the two of them. Don’t you love the irony. A married couple couldn’t live together, and since they couldn’t even enter the other's living space they couldn’t have sexual relations. However the lesbian couple did get to room together, and do whatever they wanted, I guess.

Home Town

2006-01-31T19:27:00.000-07:00

I live in a small town south of Boise. The area is growing rapidly, but for now is still pretty rural. Here are some pictures of town.

The top picture is is looking north down on Kuna. In the foreground is, yes, a dairy farm. Downtown is just beyond it, and then fields and farms. In the distance is "Squaw Butte." That's its official name, and it is the subject of some controversy.

The second picture is looking toward Boise, which rests against the snow covered hills.

The bottom picture looks west towards Oregon. On a clearer day you can see mountains across the Oregon-Idaho border, about 60 miles away.

Kirkuk Crud

2006-01-30T18:33:00.000-07:00

In mid October, while we were still in Iraq, I began to suffer from what the medics eventually diagnosed as a sinus infection. The colonel from Brooklyn told me that the body is like plumbing. If the drainage gets plugged up, moisture can pool up and mold can grow there. So he prescribed antibiotics and something to dry up my sinuses. I’ve had sinus infections before and as usual I began to feel better quickly.

We left Iraq on November 1, and arrived back in Idaho in mid November. A couple of weeks later, the infection returned, a little stronger. I was on terminal leave, still on active duty, when I went to my local clinic for treatment. The PA there treated the returned infection aggressively, including antibiotics, something to dry me up, steroids (for something, I dunno) and an injection of anti-inflammatories. I thought “Hot Damn!”, this guy’s going for it. And the treatment didn’t cost anything.

I felt better pretty quickly. However, about a month later the infection returned, even stronger. I returned to the PA and he pretty much gave me the same treatment, except with out the injection. He also sent me for a CT scan to look for something that might harbor the offending infection. That came back essentially negative, but I was feeling better so I didn’t much care. I got a bill this time, though.

About three weeks later, the infection returned, but this time it was pissed off. So, back to the doc. I saw a different PA, and got a different prescription. This guy consulted the CDC and concluded that I had received the incorrect antibiotic for an “international traveler.” So now I am on the strongest antibiotic, for twice the length of time. The first few days I was pretty worthless, but I’m beginning to think that I might be human again one day.

Interestingly, while I was on active duty the docs and prescriptions were at no cost to me. Although I get 6 months of Tri-Care health insurance, after I ended leave the treatment began to cost me. Doesn’t matter that it’s clearly related to active duty, I still have to pay. (Not a lot, but still a payment). An active duty guy my shoes wouldn’t pay anything. One on hand I’m glad to have the insurance, but on the other it just doesn’t seem equitable. And I wonder about this crud I brought back from Iraq. Is it really just a sinus infection, or did all the toxins I was exposed to make me the lucky recipient of some type of Gulf War Syndrome? Doubtful, but it makes a guy wonder.

Easing back in

2006-01-10T19:30:00.001-07:00

The reintegration is proceeding, encountering the various glitches that you can’t anticipate specifically, but of the type you know you’ll encounter. Murphy’s law, and all. Our state headquarters moved into a new armory while we were gone, resulting in new phone numbers and new locations. Our guys now don’t know where to go to get an ID card, or get a computer fixed, or whatever.

While we were gone the brigade armory was used by various vagabond units, and kind of trashed. Right before we returned the armory was stripped of contents and new carpet was laid. That’s nice, but when we returned all our stuff was in boxes packed by the carpet contractors, so it required unpacking. For some reason, phone lines were disconnected. The computer network was completely reconfigured, so all our computers no longer work. The fax machines disappeared. We took the printers with us, and either they died or we left them in Iraq. I went by my office and found that it was occupied by somebody else. I’m officially homeless.

We have no equipment, and no operations to plan for. Our motor pool is completely vacant; not a single vehicle darkens the pavement. Normally our staff is busy planning and making arrangements, but we have no exercises on the horizon. Therefore, nothing to plan for. The only activity is with the guys planning for the return of our equipment.

Divorces

2006-01-10T19:30:00.000-07:00

During the weekend I heard of four more post-deployment divorces. Once female soldier went home and told her husband “I’ve found someone else.” Apparently she hooked up with somebody in Iraq. I had noticed that she lost quite a bit of weight, which is usually a bad sign for the spouse. Another female soldier came home to find unpaid bills and unknown debt. She had been very happy believing that she had paid off her credit cards and having managed to build a savings account for the first time in her marriage. Her soon-to-be-used-to-be had apparently been spending away, and she had a gut full of it. Not much info available on the other two. Still, 4 more marriages toasted by the deployment. Maybe, maybe not, but the post hoc ergo propter hoc timing makes you wonder.

Reassembling

2006-01-10T19:28:00.000-07:00

I went to drill last weekend, which was the first time I had been back in a military situation since REFRADing (REFRAD=Return From Active Duty). We are allowed 60 days before we have to drill (February), but many of us decided to go in early.

I saw soldiers in the green Battle Dress Uniform, wearing black or brown boots. Both are now authorized. Some soldiers were wearing the Desert Camo Uniforms, which aren’t authorized but are probably all they have to wear. Funny; when we were all in the DCUs, the BDUs looked funny. Now, the DCUs look out of place.

My first sergeant told me that formation was 8-ish. When I got there, he told me I probably didn’t have to actually stand formation. Things were a bit relaxed. I entered the armory and saw Sergeant Major A, and he said “Congratulations.” “Thanks”, I said, “for what?” “Your new job.” “What new job,” I asked.

Our armor brigade is reorganizing into a Unit of Action, Rumsfeld’s new basic building block unit. As part of this, my slot, the Inspector General, has gone away, so I am without a home. In the Guard, each soldier has to have a slot, and mine just vanished. So, the powers that be, taking care of me, moved me to another LTC slot. I am now the Comptroller in the USPFO (United Stated Property and Fiscal Office).

I have no qualifications for this job, as I understand it, but that doesn’t matter. I only warm the chair on drill weekends. It is a full time job occupied by another soldier M-F. Essentially, I am being parked somewhere. Which is okay with me. My leaders are taking care of me, and found a place for me to exist until something else comes open, if it does. That’s just the way of the Guard.

Close Encounters of the Mormon Kind

2006-01-03T19:56:00.000-07:00

A friend I’ve known for 45 years invited me to attend his daughter’s recent wedding reception. I was in Iraq when the announcements went out, so I missed the mailing, but he told me about the wedding when I returned to Idaho. He said he’d send me an invitation, which was kind of funny and important because he had related a long story about how painful it was to get the invitations out.

The invitations were hand made, hand cut, hand folded, as were the envelopes, and very labor intensive. Of course, all that hand work tended to be imprecise, so the invitations sometimes wouldn’t fit into the envelopes, which delayed the process and threatened the wedding timeline. I was looking forward to getting such an invitation.

But it didn’t come. One day I talked to my daughter about holiday plans. Her mom had received an invitation, and as I talked to my daughter I found that the wedding was the next day. I called my friend and his wife and asked about it, accusing them of trying to sneak the wedding past me. They assured me they’d sent an invitation, told me when and where the reception would be, and said they’d hand me an invitation at the reception.

Good Mormons like to get married in an LDS Temple because they can get sealed to their spouse “for all time and eternity”, i.e., they will be together after death. They believe that if they do things right here on Earth they will receive certain rewards after death. It’s not 72 virgins like a Muslim martyr, but it is meaningful to a Mormon believer. To get into an LDS Temple, you have to have a “Temple Recommend.” Your Bishop – a lay person appointed into a leadership position for a while, perhaps a few years – will give you a Recommend if you live the appropriate life.

Well, non-Mormons don’t get Temple Recommends, so aren’t allowed in the temple. My friend’s daughter wanted a temple wedding, and she got one, but my friend isn’t Mormon (his wife is), so he couldn’t go. He had to cool his heels in a waiting room just inside the temple door while his daughter got married. In order to give dad a chance to walk his daughter down the aisle, they held a ring ceremony and a normal LDS church.

As I talked to my friend’s wife, I asked her if the reception would be in the LDS church next to the Boise Temple, and she said yes. She also said that I could come a half hour early and attend the ring ceremony. I live a ways away, so I left early enough to ensure I got to the ceremony on time. Traffic was unexpectedly light, so I ended up getting there almost a half hour early. After rattling the doors on the LDS church and finding them all locked, I sat in the parking lot and waited, figuring I was just early. As I sat there, I watched car after car enter the temple parking lot, but none came into the church parking lot.

I thought that perhaps the temple has some room set aside for non-Mormons and that the ceremony might be held there, so I kind of barged into the temple. Inside the door I saw the waiting room on the left, and a few stairs ahead. At the top of the stairs, behind a podium, two elderly men were checking ID’s, looking for Temple Recommends. These men were dressed entirely in white; shoes, socks, pants, belt, shirt, tie, and jacket. They both had white hair and had white name tags (with black letters). I asked them about the ring ceremony, and drew blank looks. I mentioned the name of my friend’s daughter. They consulted a list and then informed me that she had been married about eight hours earlier. Meanwhile, people were streaming past me into the temple.

I left and called my daughter to ask for the address of the church. It was a few blocks up the road; there are lots of Mormon churches out here. I took off and got to the church on time, as they say. My friend was impressed by my sticktoitiveness; despite the efforts to misdirect me, I found the reception.

Dad walked his beautiful daughter down the aisle, the bishop read a few phrases, and the kids recited a nice statement to each other and they exchanged rings. They did not exchange vows. The bishop did not say “I pronounce you husband and wife” or “You may kiss the bride.” That was all done earlier, I guess.

The venue in the church was not the chapel; it was the gymnasium. Most such receptions are held in the gym, on a hardwood floor, and literally below a basketball hoop, as was this one. And that’s how Mormons get married in Boise.

Christmas Eve in Kuna

2005-12-29T11:11:00.000-07:00

Being a single dad, I usually end up being alone for at least part of any holiday, and this year was no exception. I got together with family early on Christmas Eve, but then after about 1600 I was alone. I sat around the house for a few hours, scanned some old family photos, a watched a little TV. I got antsy around 2000, and decided to see if the movie rental place was open.

It wasn’t, so made a pass through town to see if anything was happening. The only two places open were a gas station and Cowgirls saloon, so I figured “What the heck” and went in Cowgirls.

I was surprised to see about 30 other patrons in the bar. Who’d figure that in such a small town, 30 people would have nothing better to do on Christmas Eve than go to a bar. Kind of pathetic, in a way.

Inside the bar, the Tequilaria was open, I guess for those last minute Christmas gifts of t-shirts, cowboy hats, underwear and the like. The bar was having a promotion for the best Santa costume, but only a few women were participating. One of the waitresses, a shapely, statuesque six foot tall in two inch heels, was wearing a Santa hat, a small red bikini top lined with white fur, and chaps over jeans. Quite the festive outfit. Her top was apparently a bit small as she kept …. adjusting.

Another waitress was wearing a low cut red mini-dress, lined with white fur at the bottom. She wore a normal cowboy hat and knee high patent leather boots with 4 inch spike heels. A female patron wore a similar mini-dress but without the fur. A guy wore a cowboy hat with a Santa hat pulled over the crown.

The most interesting activity was on the dance floor. The DJ played music from a laptop computer, so he had time to leave it and dance. He was the only guy dancing, and he danced with a couple of different women. One had spiky blond hair and a black t-shirt with two arrows pointing up bracketing text that said “My eyes are up here.” She and the tall waitress ended up dancing on the bar later on.

The DJ had two flashy dance moves to liven up his usual country swing. For one, he somehow got his partner’s leg over the front of his shoulder with her foot hooked behind his neck. He held her hands, and with her head pointed down at the floor, he would swing the gal up and around.

For the other move, the woman would bend over and stick both hands out behind her between her legs. The guy approached her so the top of her head was against his legs. He grabbed her hands and yanked her up, and she flipped over and ended up sitting on his shoulders with his face pressed against her lower abdomen.

One of the soldiers I helped a few times in Iraq was working in Cowgirls as a bouncer. He was excited about having transferred to a Special Forces reserve unit in Utah. He was a Ground Surveillance Radar operator in Iraq, but got into a little trouble and had an unforgiving First Sergeant, so he was looking forward to a fresh start in a different unit.

So, that was Christmas even in Kuna.

Adjustments

2005-12-16T14:25:00.000-07:00

I stopped by the armory today to pick up the form that will allow me to get National Guard plates for my car, and to pick up some shoulder patches. Now that I’m a combat zone veteran, I get to wear our unit patch on my right shoulder as well as my left. A snake sandwich, as it were.

A young female OIF veteran came into the Armory seeking tuition assistance, as she has enrolled in college part time. She also just started a new full-time job. And she just moved into a new apartment. And she just filed for divorce. She said that she was married about three months before being deployed. During the 18 month separation, she and her new husband grew apart, and now they’ve decided to call it quits. I guess you could say she’s putting her life back together after redeploying.

I came across another OIF vet, a middle-aged master sergeant. I understand that his wife went to Ft. Lewis to be with him upon deplaning. However, once back home in Boise, his wife also filed for divorce, which apparently took him by surprise.

After leaving Gowen Field, I went back to the mall for a bit more shopping, and ran into a full time soldier whom I’ve known since our ROTC days. We got to discussing all the changes that will occur now that we’re back. This soldier did not deploy, but stayed on the job here. He said that he’s already seen a difference in approach from the deployed soldiers toward the non-deployed. For one thing, email requesting support or assistance don’t really request it, they demand and expect it. I think this is more due to the way we did business in a war zone than it is due to resentment between deployed and non-deployeds, but the resentment is there with many soldiers and we will see it surface.

Readjusting takes many forms.

Where's Our Stuff?

2005-12-15T06:53:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks before we left Iraq, we packed up everything that we couldn’t carry on our backs, and shipped it home. We first laid it out for the MPs to do a customs inspection, which is what’s going on in the picture. After the inspection, we loaded the stuff into the 4 x 4 x 4 wooden boxes you can see. The boxes were then placed in a CONEX container for shipment. When I left the FOB, the CONEX with my stuff in it was still sitting there, baking in the sun.

The plan was to load the CONEXs on trucks, take them to Kuwait and load them on a ship, ship them to Beaumont Texas, put them on rail cars, and ship them to Boise. Truck them onto Gowen Field and then unload them, probably in February during our drill. If they’ve arrived by then.

All our section equipment, and most of my personal stuff, is supposedly floating somewhere right now.

Like most other Guard units, we lost a bunch of our equipment to our replacement unit. We left all the up-armored HMMWVs, of course, but also radios, machine guns and weapons, night vision devices, trucks, etc. We will not have equipment to train on when we start drilling again, and if we get called for a state mission, such as floods in the spring, we may not be able to do it, at least not well.

To my knowledge, we did not get much equipment from our predecessor unit, an active unit, but we did leave a bunch with our successor unit, an active unit. I was told that we tried for six months to get an ONS approved (Operational Needs Statement) but never got it approved. (I think we got one early with a few things, before arriving in country.) The 101st arrived, looked over our equipment list, selected what they wanted, and got an ONS approved in five days reassigning our equipment to them.

An ONS tells Dept of the Army what you need, in addition to your assigned equipment and manning, to do a current assignment. Surprisingly, the 101st, a light infantry unit, asked for our Bradleys. They don’t have trained drivers, operators, or mechanics for the Bradleys, but they got the request approved. I understand a political fight ensued, and we eventually got them back.

We have full time Guardsmen employed to maintain the Bradleys, so losing them would also mean losing jobs here at home.

Power Shopping

2005-12-14T18:58:00.000-07:00

I’m still not back at work, figuring that a few weeks off are in order. Like most soldiers in my unit, and no doubt in any unit, I did not have a day off in the last 18 months, except for two short periods of leave. I’m returning back to my job with the State of Idaho on January 2 (or 3, if Monday is a holiday).

So today I went into Boise to knock out some shopping. In Best Buy I ran into a friend I’ve known since second grade. He said he was taking a day off to do “power shopping.” We chatted for 20 minutes, and spent most of the time talking about people we used to know but who are now dead.

On the way into my power shopping day, I noticed a bunch of pigeons hunkered down on top of a run down farm shed. It has been cold here, and even the pigeons looked cold.

I spent most of the day wandering around our mall, and most of that time I spent looking for pants that would fit me. I did get most of my Christmas shopping done. I saw a soldier in green BDUs (Battle Dress Uniform) shopping in Target. It looked odd to see the green uniform after spending so long surrounded by the tan DCU (Desert Camouflage Uniform). I also saw two Marines in Toys R Us, hawking their Toys for Tots program and taking donations.

Not having been in the mall for so long, I was kind of getting a fresh look. Two things really struck me. One, the large number of people walking the mall and in stores eating or drinking something, and two, how many people were talking on a cell phone. And regarding cell phones, I saw several with a cell phone headset hanging on their ear. They weren't talking; they were just wearing the headset. I guess it's a new fashion accessory. Odd that people will pay $6,000 for a hearing aid that is tiny enough to avoid notice, yet others will hang a brightly colored very large hearing aid looking thing on their ear and sport in in the mall.

On the way home, I noticed a car parked in my subdivision. It was seriously TPd. I think it was squirted with catsup, wrapped with toilet paper, egged, and sprinkled with some white powder, possibly powdered sugar. It has been there for a week now, and my girlfriend had speculated that some guy was cheating with a gal in the subdivision and his wife found the car. Of course, it has all frozen solid by now. The name Scott is written in catsup on the hood.

Home Town

2005-12-13T14:02:00.000-07:00

I live in a small town, about 6,000 people, but it seems smaller because it is a bedroom community for Boise. It has only a tiny business community. In fact, main street is a single street about 3 blocks long, and almost all the businesses in town are located on the three blocks. The picture at right shows main street. All of it.

Two banks (one so new it's in a manufactured home), two pizza places, three gas stations, two Mexican restaurants, one regular restaurant, four hair and nail places, four bars, four churches that I know of, two car washes, a feed store, and a couple of car repair places. One grocery store, one liquor store, one car parts place, a hardware store and a lumber yard. One lawyer. Two movie rental places. Two coffee shops. One fitness place. Zero stoplights. A few other odds and ends, but that's about it. Until you get used to it, the trains coming through at night wake you up. You can often stand outside and not hear any noise, except wind or maybe a dog barking.

The town has been very supportive of the Guard, and many Guardsmen and women live here. For the first few weeks, I saw many signs welcoming us home. The community hall flew a flag with our unit patch. The city park is partially fenced, and the fence bears yellow ribbons each with the name and rank of a soldier from town. I think they included pretty much all the soldiers from town, though I got overlooked somehow.

Warrant officers

2005-12-13T09:52:00.000-07:00

I ran into a couple of warrant officers last night, watching Monday night football in “Cowgirls”. Cowgirls bills itself as a “Coyote Ugly” type of establishment, complete with straps hung from the ceiling over the bar for bar dancers to hold. Last night there were only about 10 guys there, and one waitress. She was wearing a denim miniskirt, but also fur lined boots, and did no dancing that I saw.

Anyway, one of the warrant officers lives in this small town, the other came over for a visit. I hope he got home okay; he drank a bunch of whatever he was drinking, bourbon and Coke or something like it.

One of them, the single one, didn’t have much to say about his transition back to pre-war life. Mostly he went off on his wartime boss, bluntly saying “He’s a piece of sh*t!” several times. I’m not a big fan of his former boss, but POS might be a bit too harsh an assessment. Luckily, the warrant now has a different boss. Both warrants, and the POS, are full time Guardsmen. I guess they’ll have a bit less adjustment, since they will continue to work in a military situation.

The other warrant, the married one, has been having adjustment issues. He returned home a couple of months early, as his wife was having mental health issues related to his absence and needed him here. But, he said, after getting here he tried to get involved and start taking care of things, but his wife didn’t want him to. “She wants me here, but she doesn’t want me to do what I do,” he complained. They have not been married long, and it’s his second marriage, so he’s trying hard to make it work.

You should get out more

2005-12-12T11:44:00.000-07:00

I followed a link on Andrew Sullivan’s blog to Julian Barnes’ blog (US News & World Report), and read about activities of one of the units that replaced us. Barnes wrote about how the 101st soldiers seemed to have a better grasp of the area than preceding units, i.e., my unit. I don’t recall him spending time with us so I don’t know upon what he bases this opinion, but it may well be true. The 101st has been there before, and that experience has to help.

It got me thinking about information flow. The military gets out and about and mixes with Iraqis, and I suppose the CIA does too, and these agencies report up the chain to the national security decision makers. The group that doesn’t get out is the State Department employees.

Kirkuk had a Regional Embassy Office, and the State Dept employees stayed there in a secured compound. Sometimes they’d come to our FOB, but more often we’d go there to meet with them. Iraqis would also go there for meetings, after passing through security of course.

However, the SD folks would seldom if ever go out and meet with Sheiks or muktars, or just rub shoulders with Iraqis. I didn’t hang around the State Dept at all, but a colonel who went there at least weekly told me about this. When the SD employees would seek to leave the compound, they’d have to get it cleared through Baghdad, and Baghdad would never give permission. The word always was, too dangerous.

There was danger, but it wasn’t that bad, and precautions can be taken. The denial was based on the recommendation of the SD’s security group, Blackwater Security. Of course, Blackwater’s job is to avoid injury to its protectees. If anyone gets hurt, Blackwater looks bad, so they recommend against risky behavior. Naturally. The SD types, according to the colonel, seemed pretty uninterested in leaving the compound anyway. He said that the SD employees just seemed interested in getting their ticket punched as having had an Iraq tour, and then getting out of there safely.

All of this is understandable behavior, and I’m not criticizing it. SD employees are civilians, not soldiers, and can’t be expected to risk their lives more than necessary. I just think that the SD recommendations are probably not as well informed as they could be because of their isolation. And, a great many political decisions defaulted to the military leaders

Can you trust a general's advice?

2005-12-06T09:44:00.000-07:00

I saw that President Bush recently affirmed that he intends to stay in Iraq, and that he will listen to his generals and follow their advice about when and how to draw down and eventually exit.

This seems reasonable, but I’m not so sure it is. Staying or leaving is a political decision, not a military one. Generals don’t decide national policy, politicians do. If a general is told to pull out, the general can then figure out the best way to do that and can advise of the expected consequences. That is not happening yet, so asking a general about when to leave is pointless.

If the President is determined to stay the course, and you ask a general about pulling out, of course you’re going to get an answer that says pulling out is bad. Generals support the president. They’re military men and women, and it’s in their nature and training to agree with the President. Also, the example of General Shinseki, who famously opined about the large numbers of troops we’d need contrary to the administration, and whose career then immediately suffered, reinforced the need for generals to support the administration position.

Which they should do. We don’t want generals to set national policy. Being military, they will believe that a military solution is best, just as if you ask a surgeon and a non-surgeon about how to cure an ailment, the surgeon will recommend surgery and the non-surgeon will recommend drugs or physical therapy. A person always turns to what they know.

President Bush should listen to his generals about how to accomplish a mission, not whether to accomplish it.

Of cooks and outlaws

2005-12-06T09:25:00.000-07:00

I’ve run into a few soldiers since we’ve returned, and we all agree; the adjustment back to civilian life is not as uneventful as we thought it would be. Not difficult, but not a seamless process, either.

I went into the Red Robin Restaurant to celebrate my birthday a couple of days ago, and saw a master sergeant who had served in the Headquarters Company of the Support Battalion. He said that when he drives in traffic, he feels hemmed in and nervous.

I stopped into the Red Eye Saloon to catch a bit of the Seahawks-Eagles game, and saw a young married couple shooting pool. They had both been in the Supply & Transportation company of the Support Battalion. I guess they fell in love while we were training in Texas, as they married while on leave in November. Now that they’re back, they’re beginning their lives as husband and wife. In Iraq, as I’ve written, they weren’t allowed to be together except in public. They admitted last night that they pretty much ignored that rule, as did many others. So about all the rule did was make outlaws of good soldiers. Including their First Sergeant.

This couple told me that they, like me, are not in the swing of cooking. When they want to eat, they head to the chow hall, i.e., a restaurant. I like to cook, but I’ve found that I’ve forgotten much of my cooking knowledge. Example; I used to have a bunch of meals and options stored in my head that I could sort through and select from at meal time. Now, I don’t. When I shop I don’t think of the items from which meals are made, so when it comes time to cook I don’t have the stuff to cook up. So, I either go to the grocery store, or a restaurant, or skip the meal. This is slowly changing.

Lunch, with pix

2005-12-02T09:35:00.000-07:00

I wrote a while back about a trip I took into the hinterlands south of Kirkuk to meet with a sheik to tell him about election preparations. The sheik was in town, and while we stood around debating what to do, his sons and nephews killed a sheep and the sheik’s wife and daughter (I think)cooked it up for lunch. We were invited to lunch while waiting for the sheik to return.

Here are some pictures from that trip. The first shows a couple of soldiers watching the sheep being skinned. Note the horizon; nothing there. Also note the plants around the fence. Mrs. Sheik had planted some shrubs for color.

The next picture shows one of the nephews inflating the sheep. He poked a hole in its leg and blew into it, and pretty soon its belly was extended and its legs poked straight out. I guess this was an aid to skinning it.

They gave us Chai tea, and fixed a nice meal of rice, mutton, tomatoes and cucumbers, and a tomato stew. Excellent food, even if I was a bit leery of gastrointestinal side effects, which did not materialize by the way. This sheik was a Sunni, and was certainly hospitable to us. They even took Chai to the gunners who stayed on the machine guns maintaining security.

The last picture is of a beautiful young girl, a daughter of one of the nephews, I guess. I suppose the woman who helped cook lunch could be a second wife of the sheik's, and the little girl could be from that union. Second wives are common in Iraq. Our soldiers would sometimes get offers to have a marriage arranged, and when they'd protest that they are already married, the objection would be waived off as irrelevant.

Love and Marriage

2005-12-01T07:51:00.000-07:00

After demobilizing, we don’t have to drill for 60 days. Since drill is usually the first week in the month, and most of us finished up around the 15th, we will drill again in February. Rumor has it that Annual Training is optional, but that remains to be seen.

I was picking up some broccoli for dinner last night, and saw two soldiers, a husband and wife, whom I got to know in Iraq. They looked happy. The first time I met the wife was at a combat lifesavers course. As part of the training, we all had to “stick” an IV, and have one stuck in us. Mrs. Soldier has an aversion to needles, and she was looking pale and jumpy. Turns out that she successfully avoided the needle that day.

In our division, the 42nd Infantry Division headquartered in New York, male and female soldiers were not allowed to enter the CHU of the other gender, pretty much for any reason. Didn’t matter if there were several soldiers there. Husbands and wives thus had to discuss family matters in the chow hall, or sitting outside, somewhere with no privacy. Outside wasn’t always that pleasant when it was 115 degrees and mosquitoes were buzzing around. If they wanted to discuss their children left back home, or money, take it outside.

The real point was that soldiers weren’t supposed to be having sex. However, sexual relations weren’t forbidden; you just had to find a bunker or a vehicle or an office to have sex. Other FOBs allowed married soldiers to live together. On our FOB, even soldiers who worked together all day couldn’t watch a movie together off duty. Several soldiers lost rank for being in a CHU with the other gender.

So, the husband and wife saw each other probably daily, but had to ignore the physical aspect of their relationship. Public displays of affection were forbidden, so they couldn’t hold hands, or lean against each other. No wonder they look happy now.

At right is a picture of a male soldier, taken about 0700 a couple of weeks before we left. Note the pajama bottoms. The female soldier is packing up her CHU. He is entering the items she packs onto a packing list (some DA form) as she packs them. He couldn't go in her CHU, so he sat at the doorway.

Routines

2005-11-29T14:51:00.000-07:00

I’ve been home for two weeks now, and have spent most of the time getting moved back into my home. I’d had a house sitter, who moved out a couple of days before I returned. She has lived in my house longer than me, by a few months.

I’m finally up and on line, so I hope to catch up on postings. I won’t be seeing too many other soldiers for a while, so until we start to drill again, I’ll be writing about things that I couldn’t write about while on active duty. My leave ran out yesterday, and I am today, for the first time in 18 months, not on active duty. Thus, I am not subject to many of the restrictions I used to have to obey.

**
A master sergeant from my unit lives around the corner from me. We saw each other almost daily in Iraq, since our CHUs were near each other. I drove by his house a couple of days before Thanksgiving, and he was standing in his yard. It was fairly warm, and he was in a short sleeved t-shirt, drinking a Corona. As I passed, he grinned and thrust the bottle in the air, part wave, part salute, part celebration of being home. Over this last weekend he was up on his roof, bundled and hatted against the cold, putting Christmas lights on his house.

It feels a bit odd to me to be taking care of the usual household chores. All my little routines disappeared, and I’m feeling my way back to them. I suppose the sergeant felt a bit strange to be up on his house, in the cold, stringing lights.

Back home

2005-11-23T11:28:00.000-07:00

My unit has now essentially demobilized, and we are returning to civilian life. I, like many others, am still on orders, using up accrued leave. I plan to return to my civilian job after the first of the year.

I try not to talk too much about what’s happening to me in my blog, but since I’m not around soldiers much right now, I don’t have much to report on. We have our first two drills off, so we will all reassemble for the first time in early February. It will be very interesting watching the changes and dynamics.

Our unit, the 116th Cav Brigade, has been changed from a heavy armor enhanced brigade to a new Unit of Action. That means many changes, but we’re not sure exactly how it will play out. Also, various leaders are now due to rotate out of leadership positions, so that will also trigger changes.

I am in the process of moving back into my house and trying to restart my life. It’s been a week now, and my reactions to things continues to surprise me. For one thing, as I unpack I am finding it very easy to discard “stuff” I’ve been keeping. Having lived a pretty Spartan life for the least 18 months, much that used to seem important now doesn’t seem so.

Oddly, frequently when I contemplate my experience over there, I want to cry. I looked over a retrospective of our deployment, published by the Idaho Statesman, and cried all the way through it. I’m starting to tear up as I write this. I don’t know why.

I’m writing this from the Kuna, Idaho library, as I’m not back on line yet, so posting will be a bit sparse for a while. I’ll keep writing about the experience as long as I think I have something interesting to say. I will try to talk about soldiers, rather than myself.

Demobe

2005-11-14T09:31:00.000-07:00

We are now safely in Ft Lewis, Washington, going through the demobilization process. This consists mostly of standing in line for hours, then spending a minute or two in a chair looking at paperwork.

Yesterday I arrived at 0800, even though we were told to arrive at 1000. I waited in line, slowly advancing to the front of the line. At 0911, somebody called my name, I went to the front of the line signed an insurance form, and was done for the day. The day before, we didn't do anything, just took the day off.

It has been cool, 50s, and raining off an on. Lots of folks have colds, including me. Still, it's nice to be here. We're supposed to be outta here in a couple of days.

Internet access is almost non-existant. I just got lucky for a moment to send this update.

We are staying in the old WWII open bay barracks. Not great, but not bad. We have the same food as we've been eating, and it's hard to go to the chow hall. We do have the freedom to come and go, so if a person has wheels or a ride, we can eat off post.

Bear with me

2005-10-31T01:09:00.000-07:00

We are in the process of pulling outta here, and my access to the internet will be spotty for the next couple of weeks. I will post when I can. Currently, the network is in flux because the incoming unit is configuring it to their needs, so it keeps going up and down. It's often difficult to even send an email.

It seems that my blog has been sniffed out by the comment spammers. I would delete them, but am restricted from accessing blogspot. My apologies for the spam.

Long and winding road

2005-10-28T10:17:00.000-06:00

A group of soldiers was to fly out of here this morning at 0030 (half hour after midnight). To be ready to fly then, they assembled at 1800, did roll call, did a little bit of processing, and loaded their bags. The bags are stacked on a thin metal pallet, then secured with a web of nylon straps, so they don’t come loose during the flight. The soldiers leave here on Air Force C130s, and the palletizing is one of the ways they do business.

Well, the 0030 plane didn’t come. It broke down. So the soldiers waited. Another plane was to arrive at 1000. It did, but some other group got on it. So they waited. Another one was due at 1500. It got diverted. So they waited. While they wait, they have to stay in the terminal, because a plane can drop in at a moment’s notice, I guess.

One lieutenant here, going home for leave, encountered the usual delay. He didn’t want to hang around the terminal, so counting on the planned next arrival, he took off for a little while. He thought he’d be back in plenty of time. Of course, a plane came in early, and left without him. So everyone just stays in the terminal.

I saw one of the stranded soldiers in the chow line, and he looked tired and unshaven. He doubtless got virtually no sleep last night. How well do you sleep in an airline terminal? And, because the bags were palletized, they weren’t allowed to get to them. No access to his shaving kit, or a clean t-shirt.

It's surprising he was allowed to go to the chow hall. Last time I was in the terminal, we were allowed to help ourselves to MREs and bottled water they had available. His next chance at a flight must be a ways off. Still, he was philosophical. He's going home, if he ever gets on a plane.

I think the reason that flights are so unpredictable is that soldier transport is, must be, the lowest priority on the Air Force’s list. I’m not sure what else the big transport planes are being used for now that is so urgent (got to get that shipment of MREs to Pakistan TODAY, it can’t wait until tomorrow, they’ll go bad), but the unpredictability, from a soldier’s view, is impressive.

Chair force

2005-10-26T10:53:00.000-06:00

We spent a few weeks last year in Ft. Polk, LA for training at the Joint Readiness Center. The training was pretty good, and some of it we actually used on our rotation. In an October post, I talked about the Observer/Controllers (OCs). I have been reflecting on that experience lately; one of the lead OCs was to come over here to see if what they taught us was what we needed.

I found the OCs to be kind of funny. Some of them were prima donnas. Their job is to “observe” and “control” our training event, and they tell us what we did wrong (per their playbook) and how to improve. Being the expert just naturally leads one to take on airs, I think.

Although the Army requires you to remove head gear in almost every case, the OCs kept their hats on in doors. I asked one why, and he said it was to set them apart, so we know who the OCs are. It would seem easy to tell us from them because we wore tan uniforms, they wore green. They had radios and cell phones, we were forbidden them. (Reason; must train like we fight, and there are no cell phones in Iraq. Wrong. It seems that every Iraqi has a cell phone, better than ones I’ve seen in the states, and there are some areas our radios don’t work but cell phones do. So we have them.) You could also tell the OCs because part of their uniform was a chair.

A stool, to be precise. One of the folding stools made from metal tubes. Two rectangles, hinged in the middle of the long leg, with a swath of fabric between one of the short ends and feet on the other. The type of stool favored in athletic pursuits such as fishing or camping. Folds up and packs small, and deploys with a flick of the wrist.

The OCs, expressing their originality, wore their chairs in various fashions. Some liked the over the shoulder look, and would stand and talk with their thumb hooked on the tube. Some hung it from their canteen, and some used a D-ring. Some wore it on the right side, for a quick slap, draw, flick, sit. Others liked to do a cross draw, reaching across the body. They’d sit on the low stool, elbows on knees, eavesdropping while pretending to be listening to the radio ear plug, and scowling.

I got to wondering about those chairs. A friend suggested that they were awarded upon graduation from OC school: “Upon your successful competition of the OC course, I now bestow upon you, this chair….”

Do they wax the stools? Oil the hinge? Did they have quick draw contests? Grab, open, sit; two seconds. I suppose the rookies and klutzes would get flustered and deploy the stool upside down, sit on the wrong spot and stick one of the little feet where the sun don’t shine, then fall over. All the other OCs would laugh at them; “Ha ha, you looked really stupid sitting on that stool.”

Probably some of the OCs let the habit bleed over into civilian life. “I’m ready to go shoe shopping with you dear, I’ve got my Leatherman and my chair.” His wife would ask “Are you going to wear that?” The OC could sit and clean his nails and scowl at passersby for hours, while his wife tries on shoes. Both would be happy. In church: “I see my favorite pew is occupied, good thing I’ve got my chair. Wonder where the wife will sit?”

Getting ready to go

2005-10-25T08:08:00.000-06:00

The greeting in vogue right now is “How long you got left?” Soldiers see others in the chow hall, or the restroom, and that question always gets asked, and the answer is always served with a smile. I heard one soldier reply, “I’m a one-digit midget.”

The new guys, although they haven’t formally taken authority, are not shy about taking over. They’ve been painting over unit signs and vehicle numbers, rearranging offices, and generally taking charge. When we moved in a year ago, the outgoing guys wouldn’t let us do anything until after they moved completely out. Just one of the differences between Active and Guard units, I guess.

We get some feedback on what is supposed to happen, but are pretty much in the dark. We don’t know the time the plane will land or leave, or what happens after we leave, or really much of anything. I looked at pictures in the newspaper of our soldiers arriving in Washington, and learned more from studying those photos than I have been told.

I saw the soldiers get off the plane with no helmet, and no body armor. Which tells me we will turn that in somewhere along the line. On the flight over last year, the plane was uncomfortably overstuffed. No one wanted to or could wear hot, rigid body armor on a 15 flight, so we took it off. But, there was no where to put it. Overhead bins were all full. We just ended up with no leg room, and often the damn things sitting in our laps. So the idea that we can fly back without it is pretty welcome.

Surprise, surprise

2005-10-24T10:40:00.000-06:00

The crew was emptying our green plastic dumpsters into the garbage truck today, and one of the workers reached in, lifted out a clear bag of trash, and dumped out the contents. He reached down, picked up a CD jewel case, inspected it, and threw it back in. The crew then hooked the dumpster to the truck and hoisted it overhead, spilling it empty.

A KBR worker was watching me watch the garbage men, and he said “They’re supposed to check it.”

“Oh yeah” I said, “what for?”

“Hazardous materials, wood, things like that. Yesterday they found two live practice mortar rounds and a clip full of M16 bullets.”

Active duty

2005-10-23T08:20:00.000-06:00

Our replacements have arrived, and the FOB is teeming with soldiers. The chow hall is teeming, especially lunch, the PX is teeming, the gym and Rec centers, teeming. Probably can’t say the unit, but they are active duty and a well known unit. If a civilian can name 3 or 4 Army units, this would probably be one of them.

They have lots of fancy stuff, big flat screen monitors, etc. Shipped in a bunch of leather chairs for the conference room. Our cheesy Haji chairs are now out in a junk pile. And, they managed to grab a bunch of our equipment we were shipping home. This is an issue because our unit will not get any equipment to replace it, not until the war is over. All the production goes right here. And, the folks who were paid to maintain the equipment won't have anything to maintain, so you have to wonder about how long their jobs will last.

The new unit's CONEX containers have all been deposited in a big field near the tent city. As I walked back and forth to chow, I’d always see two soldiers sitting on a cot. Smoking, chatting, reading, listening to music, watching a DVD on a portable player, just seemed to be there, killing time, different soldiers each time. I asked them if they were on guard duty and they said yes, they were guarding the CONEXs. These are steel boxes, 6 ft by 6 ft by 4 ft, with high security padlocks on the door. They were guarding against the eventuality that someone might sneak in with a fork lift and steal a container.

To know me is to not fear me

2005-10-17T06:51:00.000-06:00

We drove the empty streets of Kirkuk the night before and the night after the referendum. Kirkuk is probably the most ethnically mixed city in Iraq. It has Sunni and Shia Arabs, Kurds, Assyrians, Turkmen, and some Christians.

In this city, US soldiers are well received. People all over the city wave at us. If we stop we tend to get mobbed by children, although that is due a large part to us handing out candy and gifts like school supplies and soccer balls. After one stop, we drove away from a large group of children as they cheered for us.

After the election the streets were empty of cars and mostly deserted by people. We did see a group of guys hanging out, so we stopped and got out. The guys ranged in age from young boys to men in their 60s. They were playing backgammon and dominos. We mingled among the group, mostly composed of Kurds but not entirely. One soldier played dominos with the Iraqis. I walked into a small shop and saw boys playing Grand Theft Auto and a couple of other Play Station games. They brought us all Chai to drink, including the gunners who stayed on the vehicles to man the machine guns. The younger boys flocked around us like magpies, chattering “Mister Mister”, and “Give me”.

What struck me the most was that we easily mingled in. There was ABSOLUTELY no fear of us, even though of course we are bristling with weapons. They just accepted our presence with grace, good humor, hospitality and lots of pictures. I saw some women looking out of windows, or down from balconies above, and they smiled and waved.

Every time we stopped and got out, the citizens just took it in stride. It wouldn’t even cause a ripple of anxiety. I was watching the faces on the people when we got out, and no one looked nervous or upset. Nobody left the area.

I don’t know that the people of Kirkuk love us, but I can say with certainty that they accept us and don’t fear us.

Air Force Doing Army Jobs

2005-10-11T08:22:00.000-06:00

The Air Force just sent 3,000 troops to do traditionally Army jobs, per the LA Times.

http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/nation/la-na-airforce11oct11,0,5242046.story?page=1&coll=la-home-headlines

Interesting article. It looks like the Airmen are going to be trained in some Army schools, and may be working for the Army. I saw some Airmen wearing the new Army uniform the other day, so I know that Airmen do fill roles that report to Army leaders.

The article talks about longer deployments for the AF, more than the usual 4 months. It also alludes to a bit of culture shock when the AF has to do Army business. The cited example is the forced march, which to the Airmen has little to do with being an intel pogue.

The Navy is doing customs inspections. Sailors inspected my gear when I went on leave, and I wondered why, and now I know. The Army is running out of bodies.

This presages a fight in congress. Each service battles over its budget and number of troops it can have. If Airmen are doing Army jobs, the question will arise, why not just reduce the AF and increase the Army? Something to watch.

Helmet

2005-10-11T08:06:00.000-06:00

Behold the lowly helmet. High on the body, low on the totem pole. Our version is just the recent expression of a soldier’s desire to protect the skull.

We wear our helmet whenever we leave a building, and we wear it when we drive, even in an SUV or civilian auto. If we lounge around the CHU or walk to the gym wearing our PT uniform, we wear the helmet. We wear it all the time, except when inside, or when doing PT. Inside a tent counts as inside, so we don’t wear our helmet there.

I have been wearing my helmet pretty much constantly for 16 months. During those months, it has been hot and very hot. Ever see an old straw hat or baseball cap that the wearer has heavily sweated in? Dark and stiff around the headband? Our old helmets had a leather headband, which got dark and stiff after not very long. When you were issued a new helmet, you’d always try to get a new sweatband, although sometimes you were stuck with the one sweated in by whomever wore the helmet before you got it.

We have a new version of helmet now. You can see the soldiers wearing it on TV and in pictures. The old one, made of Kevlar, resembles the German WWII helmet, and dips down over the ears sheltering your entire head. However, if you lay on your stomach and try to fire your rifle, the back of the helmet hits your back and tips down over your eyes, making it difficult to see, and shoot.

So, the new helmet is shorter and does not cover the back of your head as much, so you can lie prone and shoot. The down side is, it exposes the base of your skull. Unfortunately in this war, we don’t do a lot of lying on our bellies and shooting. The biggest risk is from IEDs, bombs lying on the ground, exploding upward. Covering the lower part of your skull might be useful from a ground explosion. We don’t get a choice of helmets; we wear the new style, regardless.

The new style has nice cloth-covered foam pads to hold on your head, much more comfortable that the old leather sweatband and mesh. The foam pads are black, and we get issued one set with the helmet. I have been sweating into those pads for 16 months, less about 3 cooler months. Lucky they’re black to begin with, or they'd look like the old leather sweatbands.

When I take off my helmet, I put whatever I’m carrying into it so I don’t forget it and leave it. Notebook, sunglasses, water bottle, whatever. I have to be careful with my sunglasses and be sure that the lenses don’t touch the pads, or they will get smeared with oil. I try not to think about those pads against my head.

In WWII movies the soldiers never fasten their chip straps, and they always swung loose, even in combat action. We always do. Look closely at pictures; you won’t find a American soldier with an unfastened chin strap.

A Day for Smiles

2005-10-06T08:20:00.000-06:00

We went on a knock and search today, accompanied by some Iraqi Police, and it struck me that many of the families whose homes we searched were happy to see us. Smiling, some laughing, didn’t appear to be irritated at all.

Almost every home has two floors, many have three, and a couple had four. The top floor is always the roof, but they use it to sleep on when it’s hot, also just as an outdoor room, much as American might use a deck or patio. We searched in body armor and although it was only in the low 90s, before long the soldiers were sweating under the armor. One soldier, taking a brief break, lit a cigarette and complained good-naturedly about the exercise “And I put on fresh uniform today.”

A soldier came in for some help today in getting some money he’s owed, related to a foot injury. Having my attention directed to his feet and thinking “Man, that’s a lotta foot to hurt” I asked, pointing “What are those, about size 13s?” Smiling, he replied “These are 13 and a halves, but in civilian shoes I wear a 16.”

Missing in Action: Main Stream Media

2005-10-05T05:35:00.000-06:00

This post is a bit long, and doesn’t talk about soldier life. I offer my view about how reporting of the war could be improved.

Much ado over the recent announcement that only one Iraqi battalion is up to snuff, when Congress thought it was three. I just don’t get this. Why is Congress so uninformed? There are frequent CODELs (Congressional Delegations) coming over here; what do they do here? It’s not like they’re busy golfing or vacationing. The main reason, I believe, is that they just don’t talk to soldiers when the come. I blogged about this in an earlier post about bigwigs visiting. If you only talk to Commanders, all you’ll get is the Command Message, and that begins at the top.

Likewise, the MSM gets lots of criticism for not reporting the war well. I guess one reason is editorial decisions not to print or show routine stuff; a new water project just doesn’t grab attention like a bomb does. But, you’d think a report about the lack of readiness of Iraqi battalions would be interesting. I suppose I’m assuming this hasn’t been reported, based on Congress’ surprise.

What I’m getting at is that the MSM isn’t sending reporters out, not in our area. Near as I can tell, they pretty much just huddle inside the Green Zone in Baghdad. We’ve seen a few here; some from home to report on hometown soldiers, some from Stars & Stripes, but nothing extended.

For whatever reasons, we don’t have many (any?) reporters hanging out with soldiers in our area. It’s easy enough to catch a spare seat on a patrol, or to a meeting with a local Sheik or to the military assistance team training the Iraqi Army. Hang around the regional embassy and observe state dept staffers. How about having a reporter live for three to six months here with us? A month or two? A few weeks?

MSM and CODELS ought to get out of the headquarters buildings and circulate among soldiers. It’s simple to ask the guys training Iraqis “What do you think of their readiness? What standards are they meeting?” I’ve asked that in the chow hall, and the recent assessment that surprised Congress was consistent with what the soldiers told me. Or, ask the soldiers if more troops would help, and if so, how? I’ve done that, and the answer often isn’t exactly what you hear from command.

Of course, the view from the dirt is limited in range, so the Joes have only a part of the truth. Embedded reporters did a great job reporting the initial attack. Embedding seems to be a thing of the past. Embedded reporters wouldn’t be at any greater risk than soldiers. Probably a bit less. I’d like to see reporters assigned to a FOB or large unit for an extended period.

Fobbits and Their Bras

2005-10-04T10:53:00.000-06:00

Some of the soldiers on our FOB (Forward Operating Base) rarely or never leave it. These soldiers are called Fobbits. Fobbits use the term freely, perhaps a bit sheepishly, because there is a certain amount of machismo in going outside the wire. Soldiers who do go out regularly also use the term Fobbit, but a bit more pejoratively.

Of course, whether you leave the FOB or not is usually not a matter a choice. Plenty of soldiers would be happy to change circumstances and leave, or never leave, depending on what they’re doing now. A soldier told me he goes out almost every day, and the novelty wore off for him a long time ago. He’d prefer not to leave the safety of the FOB. His platoon has lost a soldier to an IED. Also, soldiers who never leave the FOB support those who do. Without the support Fobbits, the mission here would not get done. We all know that.

A FOB Bra is the pistol holster worn around the shoulders and neck. Many consider it more comfortable than the leg holster. However, if you wear the Bra, you can’t wear the body armor over it, which implies that you don’t ever use body armor, that you never leave the FOB. Thus, FOB Bra, worn by girley men. Watch news reports and photos, and you’ll see lots of soldiers – sans body armor – bearing a brown leather or black canvass Fob Bra. You’ve ID’d a probable Fobbit.

Honk if You’re Horny

2005-10-04T05:10:00.000-06:00

Traffic in many places here is chaotic, and seems lawless. I have a picture of a small Japanese pickup truck bearing three Iraqi men and an overloaded bed full of green vegetables. The hood (engine cover) is missing, as is the front bumper, headlights, turn lights, parking lights, grill and pretty much everything in the front of the radiator. But, it is still on the road, which suggests that either traffic laws are minimal or they are not enforced. No doubt the police have plenty to do just to maintain security, much less worry about vehicle inspections.

So traffic is not orderly. Roads are adequate but not particularly wide, especially in town. When our large HMMWVs enter the picture, they don’t share the road well with the generally smaller Iraqi vehicles. And, we are road hogs. We won’t allow ourselves to get stuck in traffic, because that is a good way to become a target.

We often have to bully our way through the traffic. Some of the Iraqi drivers don’t notice us and don’t get out of the way. We don’t bump them, we don’t throw things, we don’t shoot, of course, to get their attention, we do what people everywhere do; we honk the horn. In most cases, all we do is wave or honk.

HMMWVs have a horn like the one on my motorcycle. Beeeeep beeep, beeeeeeeep, tinny little bleating sound that can easily be missed, especially if the Iraqi driver has the window up or is listening to the radio. Getting the up-armored HMMWVs is nice, and saves lives. It would also be nice if they’d put a real horn in the HMMWV. An air horn would be nice, or at least a really loud regular horn.

I have begun to see soldier modification to the HMMWVs. Example; I saw a couple of aimable lights mounted on a hood, to help with locating IEDs at night. Like a spotlight, but not operable from inside. Perhaps soldiers can start mounting air horns or loud car horns. Or maybe they can get the portable compressed air horns like you hear at sports events, or on boats.

Metal rain

2005-10-03T10:47:00.000-06:00

I woke up around 0200 this morning and couldn’t return to sleep. Insomnia and I are old friends, so I just relaxed bed, waiting for morning, listening to the air conditioner. I moved into my CHU last December and turned on the unit and haven’t shut it off since. Last winter I needed the heat; this summer, the AC. And it provides a white noise to mask sounds from my neighbors, two of whom work from 1500 until 0300, then come in and watch movies.

I guess most of us are experiencing at least a low level on ongoing stress. When a CHU door slams, or you hear a similar sudden noise, you wince, wondering if it is a rocket attack. As I lay in bed this morning, the compressor in the AC unit suddenly engaged with a thump. My heart startled into high gear for a few moments, even though I knew quickly it was not a rocket attack. That bloom of adrenalin ended any hope I had to get back to sleep.

We mounted up today around breakfast time and drove to a village where we met with some locals, made plans for the referendum and walked around town in a dismounted patrol. School let out as we walked and kinds in blue and white uniforms swarmed around us.

We pulled out of our parking lot after receiving the mission and briefing, and headed for the gate. Our gunner was standing up in the hatch as we rolled along. We hit a rough patch of pavement, and some liquid splashed down inside. Apparently the gunner had spilled something.

The vehicle commander asked what he was drinking, and the gunner replied “A near beer.” About then the beer smell filled up the cab. I’m glad he didn’t spill it on me. I’d hate to be reeking of beer when meet with Muslims Iraqis.

We went through the gate, and stopped briefly to test fire the machine guns. The gunner fired several rounds into a dirt berm, and the spent shell casings and linkage tink tink tinked down through the hatch into the cab like metal rain. One of the casings landed in a puddle of near beer.

Later in town I was happy to drink sweet Chai tea with the hospitable Iraqis, as the caffeine helped offset my lack of sleep.

Self help

2005-10-01T09:02:00.000-06:00

I went with a unit on some mounted and dismounted patrols today, in both Arab and Kurdish areas. (I'm nervous writing about thisl, given the new info re blogs. I don't want to divulge improper info. Hmmm. I guess being nervous is probably my internal warning that I'm treading on thin ice.)

What struck me the most was that the village leaders we talked to all asked for things from us. Water projects, help with setting boundaries between off limits areas and sheep grazing areas, etc. After listening for a while, I was yet again reminded of the communist background of the Baathist party, and its effect on the country.

Iraq has only been unified, in its entire history, when it had a strong leader. However, a strong leader means the individuals looked to the leader to get things done. Coupled with the communist beliefs of the Baath party, the locals aren't used to doing much more than asking for help.

So, in one village, we were asked about a water project. A canal flowed - that's misleading, as no movement existed - through the village, near houses, along the street. The water was filthy, green and full of trash. I saw one woman toss some garbage into it, right in front of her house. The water stunk.

When asked for a water project, we told them that they have to work through the city council and use the proper process. The didn't get this, for whatever reason. We also told them to use self help and clean up the canal. Again, I'm not sure they got this.

The Chai was hot and sweet. The famous Arab hospitality is alive and well, in my experience.

The children kind of circled around, and once we broke out the candy they mobbed the guy with it.

I gave one small girl a stuffed Pink Panther donated by a company in Boise. She grabbed it and ran off, pursued by other kids. As we pulled out, I saw a bigger boy holding the pink toy.

New Army Warnings Issued To GI Bloggers

2005-10-01T08:48:00.000-06:00

So says the headline in Stars and Stripes today, Saturday, Oct 1. www.stripes.com

According to the article, a new warning has been issued by the Army. Prohibited activities include posting photos (one part of the article says 'Do NOT post any photographs on any Web sites'), posting official information, and releasing information detailing job responsibilities.

I was not aware of this new warning until I read the S&S today. Apparently my post about dumpster diving was a violation.

I'm confident that no soldier wants to give away information that can be used to harm soldiers; I know I don't. It seems that the Army is growing more concerned about blogs and the information given away, or the opinions expressed.

I guess I'm done posting photos here. I wonder how the policy applies to Guardsmen; if I am not on duty, what restrictions apply? When I'm not in a pay status, i.e., a civilian, can I post pictures?

I suspect that as time goes on, milbloggers will get pretty scarce.

What Would You Like On Your Pizza?

2005-09-30T07:22:00.000-06:00

I gave a soldier a ride to our FOB Green Bean coffee shop today, and on the way he told me about his soon-to-be-ex-wife, his two year old daughter, his plan to go to Afghanistan and then work for a security firm, and his plan to retire by age 28, at which point he plans to get custody of his daughter. I dropped him off at the coffee shop, and as I pulled away I noticed a Third Country National worker behind the Pizza Hut.

The worker was wearing a dark blue shirt with a red PH logo, and was sitting in the back step of the PH trailer. I saw him holding and looking at something long and white. As I drove past, I saw that it was a sock and that his left foot was bare. He put down the sock and began to devote some attention to his foot, picking between his toes. I wonder if he was the cook? "I'd like the small pepperoni pizza please, and add some toe jam."

Fresh food

2005-09-29T07:32:00.000-06:00

The platoon ate mutton for lunch yesterday, and it had been on the hoof only about two hours before it was on our plates.

We left after breakfast to drive to the far southern edge of our area, to meet with a sheik to discuss various matters. He was supposed to be around his home for about three days, so we drove out to see him. Of course, we can’t say when we plan to get there; that would just make us a target.

We drove for about an hour on paved roads, then for another hour on dirt roads. The dirt roads followed the edge of fields, canal banks and in some places just seemed to meander across the landscape. We took the roundabout path in order to avoid driving on the main road and risking an IED attack.

Eventually we arrived at the village, and asked for the sheik. In a village of mud huts, his house was the nice one; air conditioning, electricity, modern kitchen, TV in an entertainment center in the living room, outdoor, but plumbed, bathroom.

Turns out the sheik was in town. One of the Iraqis called him, and after a short conversation told us that he sheik was on his way, and he’d be there in an hour. We stood around, like soldiers do, and pondered our next move. Wait and be out quite a bit longer than we planned, or head back. The Iraqis invited us to sit for spell, and one brought out a pitcher of cold water and one glass. We each took the glass, sipped or drank, depending on thirst, and replaced the glass. The Iraqi held the tray, refilled the glass as necessary, and handed the glass around until everyone had some water. They did this a couple more times later, but used a small stainless steel bowl instead of a glass.

The guy left, and came back with cups of strong sweet Chai. As we sat and chatted and sipped Chai, we saw two of young men walking up carrying a dead sheep. Apparently the sheik told his family to prepare lunch, so they killed the fatted calf, so to speak. They walked around the edge of the house, and pretty soon we heard a scraping sound. They were sharpening a knife on the edge of the concrete walkway.

One of the men cut off the sheep’s head, then poked a hold in its hind leg. He blew into the hole and inflated the sheep until all four legs stuck straight out. He then cut down the center, and commenced to skin the sheep. I’m not quite sure what inflating it did for him. He still had to separate the skin form the meat, using the knife to cut the fascia. As he was doing this, a few sheep walked by, just on the other side of the fence.

After he got the skin off, he hung the sheep and disemboweled it into a large pan. After the sheik’s wife took over and cooked up lunch, which took about two hours from baa to being served. The sheik arrived during this time and we talked with him a bit, drinking cold cola. They served the mutton boiled with onions, kind of a soup with meat in it, white rice, a bowl of fresh cucumbers and tomatoes chopped into jellybean sized pieces, like a salsa, and a dish of tomato slices that had been boiled and seasoned. It was delicious. None of the Iraqis ate, at least while we were there.

We finished up lunch with more sweet Chai. We departed soon after, and left some candy and school supplies, and a case of bottled water, then motored back the way we came. Mission accomplished.

Pizza and heart rates

2005-09-27T08:50:00.000-06:00

I have a wide variety of duties, and a couple of nights ago my duty was dumpster diving. We had an allegation of wrongdoing, the evidence of which was supposed to show up in the trash. It didn’t, but I was otherwise surprised by what I saw.

In two words, pizza boxes. We have a Pizza Hut outlet – a converted CHU, essentially – on the FOB, and it apparently does a land office business. Every dumpster I peered into had multiple pizza boxes. Way more than I had expected. Four, five, six, ten, more. The dumpsters are emptied almost daily, or no less than every other day, so the pizza boxes were all recent.. Apparently lots of soldiers are skipping the chow hall.

Also saw a shelf, about eight brand new steno notebooks, DVD cases, and lots of stuff that soldiers are tossing out in preparation to leave. I guess they’re getting skinny, notwithstanding the pizza.

A friend of mine was showing off his fancy Polar heart monitor watch. The sensor straps to his chest when he works out, and talks to his watch for heart rate, lap times, and all sorts of stuff. He has a sensor in his shoe that tells his watch info about his stride.

He uploads his watch into his computer, and it makes charts and graphs, tells him what his fitness age is, and helps him plan his workout. He was showing me the graph of his heart rate from his 8 mile run the other day. Average mile time; 9 minutes, 32 second. The watch tracks temperature and altitude, and the graph showed the altitude of his run.

At several points, the graph showed his heart rate briefly dropping to near zero. I asked him if he has heart problems or something. He said no. He thinks the dip was when he ran near jammers, and his heart monitor couldn’t talk to his watch.

A Gross Post

2005-09-26T08:38:00.000-06:00

It cooled off today, into the low 90s. Finally. So I went for a run this afternoon. Afterward, I took a shower. The shower I normally use was in use so I used the one next to it.

In my usual shower, the curtain has been raised way up, above my head, but a couple of days ago it had been lowered enough to easily see over. When I showered a couple of days ago, I had to duck below the curtain rod to get in and out of the shower. Exiting, I also had to step up over the lip of the drain pan. Ducking and stepping up simultaneously is just too much for me to do safely more than once, and I conked my head on the shower curtain, leaving a lump and a scrape. But I still stuck to that shower, mostly because I like the shower head.

Today, as I showered, the guy showering where I usually do was taking a nice long shower. At one point, he coughed and hacked up, well, you know, and then did it again a minute later. So, he was either holding it in his mouth, swallowing it, or spitting it in the shower. Jeez. After that, I heard him blow his nose. In the shower. I couldn’t see, but I’m pretty sure it was the deal where you put a finger on one nostril and blow out through the other. Either that or he used his washcloth. The shower was still running so I’m sure he wasn’t using a tissue.

Afterward, I regarded him with some disgust as he leaned forward to the mirror and popped a pimple. I think I might change showers.

The Beginning Of The End.

2005-09-25T01:12:00.000-06:00

Although our departure date is a ways away, we have begun preparing for it. Logistics, it is said, doesn’t win wars but it can certainly lose them, and logistics takes planning. For now, we’re packing up equipment that we can do without for a while. “Getting skinny”, as it’s called. I’ll probably see the gear again in about 6 months.

Last week several sections gathered to pack and stow some of their gear. First, we decide what we can live without, and what we are required to take with us on the plane. The latter changes as guidance from higher is received. Originally we were supposed to take all our Organizational Clothing and Individual Equipment (OCIE) so we can turn it in at the de-mobilization station. That is pretty bulky stuff, and since we’re limited to two duffle bags and a backpack, it would prevent taking much of anything useful.

OCIE includes, for example, elbow and knee pads, pup tent halves with stakes and poles, an entrenching tool (foldable shovel), cold weather gear, and lots more crap that we just won’t need to de-mobe.

The new guidance allowed us to pre-pack and send OCIE home in a CONEX container, so I filled up two duffle bags of that stuff and a couple of folding chairs. I also sent a foot locker. It had books, posters, folding stools, rope, and just a bunch of stuff that I though I might need for this tour, most of which I didn’t.

Here’s the process. You pack your bags and footlocker so that you know what fits, and fill out a form (make 5 copies) listing everything in the bag or locker. The picture was taken at 0700, and shows a male soldier, still in his pajama bottoms, helping a female soldier (he's not alowed to enter her CHU). He is typing the form while she loads up her duffle bags.

After completing the form, load up the stuff into a truck, take it to a central area, unpack it and lay it out on cardboard. The MPs will then root through your stuff looking for contraband or other stuff you can’t ship. After they clear you, you repack, put everything into large boxes, marked and numbered, and then box is fork lifted into the CONEX container and the container is sealed, ready for shipment. Until it ships, it will just sit in the sun and bake. A copy of your packing list goes in each duffle bag, on the outside of the box, on the CONEX container, one to the First Sergeant, and one for you, total of five. Load lists are important. We lost a CONEX container for a while on the way over here. It was later found in Kuwait.

For me, the MPs rejected some prescription meds (have to hand carry them, and they have to have your name on the container), some vitamins (once opened, who knows what’s in the bottle, so they can’t go), some batteries (they might leak), and the mosquito net issued to me here. I never used the net, but it is similar to camouflage netting and neither can go home. We don’t have to turn it back in, either, so the advice was to just throw it away. Oddly, the commercial mosquito net I brought with me was allowed to go home.

I saw TV’s, small refrigerators, a violin, books, CDs, DVDs, and a rich variety of miscellaneous personal stuff being loaded. Here in a while we’ll do it again, and pack up the offices and pretty much everything else. We’ll be living out of duffle bags for a couple of weeks at the end of our stay in Iraq, and for the few weeks it will take to finally get home. I’ll have mostly clothing and hygiene items, along with a small footlocker of office stuff; active files, laptop, whatever I need to do business during the de-mobe.

If you're married, one of the rules of travel is "Don't whistle while you pack." At least here we didn't have to hide our good spirits as we prepare to travel.

Awards

2005-09-24T07:37:00.000-06:00

One of our commanders said “Awards are the most difficult thing we’re doing in theatre.” As we approach the end of our tour, the awards controversy is growing.

Awards are always subject to some tension. Deserving soldiers should be recognized, but if too many awards are handed out, it cheapens the awards. Drawing the line inevitably causes disagreement. Because enlisted soldiers get promotion points per award, getting a medal can determine whether you are elevated in rank. Some medals are not authorized in a combat zone; others are awarded only in a combat zone.

All soldiers serving in Iraq and supporting the Global War on Terrorism will receive at least two medals. One is an Iraqi (or Afghanistan) service ribbon, and the other is similar; you get it for showing up and participating. Other awards are given for either service or achievement. That is, you serve admirably for a period, or you have certain achievement that merits a medal.

A Bronze Star is a combat zone only medal. Under our division’s rules, these tend to be given to soldiers with large responsibilities, i.e., higher ranking soldiers. It is a higher medal than an Army Commendation Medal (ARCOM), which you can get in peacetime or at war. Either can be given with a “V device”, a tiny bronze “V” placed on the medal, for valor.

Rumors abound of other units freely handing out awards, particularly active duty units, but our division is very restrictive. Many soldiers believe that division is defensive and out to prove that National Guard divisions don’t just hand out meaningless awards. Because the Bronze Star is a pretty significant medal and not easily won, the next medal in line is the ARCOM. Well, ARCOMs are given out during peace time. Thus, a soldier who has distinguished him or her self in a war zone might only get the same medal as given back home on Annual Training. This is a controversy that will never go away.

Awards are also difficult because of the justification required. Leaders are trying to get their soldiers the Combat Action Badge, the Combat Infantryman Badge, or the Combat Medic Badge. Packets with dozens of pages of justification have been submitted, only to be rejected. There are issues about whether incoming rockets or mortars will qualify you for the badge, how close do you have to be to it, what if it’s a dud, and were you on duty at the time. For example, if I leave my office to go to lunch and a rocket lands near me, I probably won’t qualify. If I’m walking with a soldier who is going to the chow hall to pick up food and take it back to fellow soldiers, he will qualify. He is on duty, but I’m not.

And on and on. Purple Hearts are given for battlefield injuries. However, here, if the injury is not visible, it usually won’t earn a Purple Heart. Ruptured disk from being banged around inside a HMMWV when an IED explodes; nope. Brain damage from concussion, but no gash or blood; nope. Burst eardrum from proximity to explosion; nope. Cut from flying shrapnel that requires only first aid; nope.

Awards are a difficult issue, but greatly affect morale.

Bathroom Wars

2005-09-22T11:51:00.000-06:00

An internecine war has broken out among soldiers on the FOB, and the battleground is the bathrooms.

We have “Cadillacs” for shower and bathroom facilities. That is, modular buildings plumbed and outfitted for one or the other of the functions. The buildings are set by a crane on cement blocks, and plumbed into the black and gray water systems. Buildings run in two lines through our CHU area, showers all in a row behind the restrooms, also all in a row. Each building has one door, and two windows on opposite walls. The windows can be opened part way. Fans next to the windows exhaust air 24/7.

These buildings are okay, as far as they go. The restrooms tend to get dirty, and the showers tend to run out of hot water, but all in all, adequate. The worst part, I think, is doing the shower shuffle, i.e., walking from the CHU to the shower, carrying your little ditty bag and towel. For me, that’s about the length of a football field. Well, actually, the worst part is the dirt bags who never learned how to clean up after themselves and leave evidence of their passing in the sink and on the floor.

People being people, they have their preferences. If the windows are closed, the fans pull in air from the sewer because the sinks and urinals don’t have P traps to stop the inflow of sewer gas. So if the windows are closed, the rooms stink. If the windows are open, it lets in hot air and overpowers the air-conditioning. So I’ll walk in a bathroom with the windows shut and open them to get in some air. Later I’ll return and someone will have shut them, preferring cool sewer gas over warm oxygen. And back and forth.

Likewise, the showers. We have flimsy plastic shower curtains, with smiling fish or happy whales or pastel geometric designs. Being flimsy, and soldiers being pretty ham-fisted, the curtains don’t last too long and are frequently replaced. As you shower, the air is warmed by the shower water and rises, sucking in the lightweight shower curtain and plastering the moldy fabric against your leg, which is nasty.

Apparently two schools of thought about how to avoid this prevail. One, lower the curtain rod so far that the curtain laps onto the ground. The other, raise it so that plenty of air can flow under it and avoid sucking in the curtain. In the shower I prefer, the curtain rod goes up and down as much as a window shade. I used to be a low-rod ground-lap man, but lately it doesn’t seem to matter if my ankles show.

On Patrol

2005-09-20T11:05:00.000-06:00

I went on a presence patrol into Kirkuk. After a little stutter-step getting going, we got off, though a bit late. That’s okay as we try to vary our routine anyway, so being late works toward that end. It was bad news for our interpreter, though. He just got married, in June, and his bride was expecting him by a set time. Well, our late start caused him to miss his deadline, and pretty soon his cell phone started ringing. Contrition and explanation looks the same in any language, it seems.

We stopped at a police precinct for a brief visit. We sat down with the head policemen, not in the city but in the precinct. He had a clean office, painted blue on the lower half, and light blue on the upper, with a small window in the corner. His desk was clear except for inbox, pencils, and office utensils, and had recently been wiped off. He had a desk and return, his chair, a tiny refrigerator, two sofas and two love seats, all matching, and a TV on a stand.

Within a couple of minutes a policeman wearing a blue shirt and new black body armor came in with a tray and several little glasses of dark Chai. About two inches tall, the bottom half inch was all sugar. I stirred it with tiny spoon and drank most of it. If you drink it all, you get a refill, so it’s important to leave a bit. I was a bit leery about the water source, but took the risk. After a few minutes of chatting, and listening to our interpreter make excuses, we left to drive around the streets, accompanied by some Iraqi Police (IP).

We stopped and talked to a shopkeeper who was sitting in a little windowless stall, about 8 by 15. The front was painted pink, and inside colored lights (Christmas lights) helped the feminine presentation. I saw deodorants, shampoos, hair coloring, lipsticks, eye liners, pretty much most of what you’d see in a normal grocery store, with a couple of exceptions.

He had a variety of products, but no variety among products. That is, he had several different scents of deodorant, for example, but only one brand. The products were not lined up by type, but more by symmetry. I saw a row of various round containers, deodorants, lipsticks, eyeliners, etc, all lined up in a symmetrical pattern. Lipsticks were all over the shop, as they made nice colorful counterpoints to larger items. His biggest seller; shampoo. He had a few articles of clothing, including to my surprise, a negligee. And what looked like a moo-moo.

We took off after a few minutes and continued the patrol. Saw several mosques, some sheep, some goats, lots of trash, and some absolutely beautiful children dressed in bright cothing. After a while the IP had to return to their station for another mission.

Looking for progress? The soldiers I was with told me they have seen a great deal of progress in the IP since we arrived several months ago. They are getting better equipped; the body armor was brand new, which might explain why the guy delivering the tea was wearing it. The IP set up good security when stopped, and generally looked pretty good. Coming along nicely.

Honoring a fallen soldier

2005-09-16T09:43:00.000-06:00

We held a ceremony today for a fallen soldier. He was 29 years old. Most of our large company was able to attend, along with a couple of generals, all the battalion commanders and their sergeants major, and even some Air Force representatives.

After an invocation and the national anthem, the soldier’s company commander spoke, followed by the soldier’s supervisor and his roommate. All the speakers knew the soldier, and spoke movingly of his dedication, love of service, how their lives were enriched by knowing him, and of how much he will be missed.

They held a roll call for the soldier. The company First Sergeant called roll of the soldier’s section by rank and last name, and each soldier responded “Here, First Sergeant.” When the First Sergeant came to the fallen soldier’s name, of course there was no answer. The 1SGT called his name again, adding his first name to his rank and last name. After a moment of silence, the 1SGT called his name a third time, using the soldier’s full name, first, middle and last. After a brief silence, someone answered “The soldier is out of ranks First Sergeant.” From outside we then heard a 21 gun salute, three rounds of seven rifles, followed by taps.

In closing, all the soldiers, starting with the generals, moved into the aisle fronted by a helmet on a rifle, with boots at the bottom. In threes and fours, all the soldiers approached the memorial and delivered a slow salute, then executed a right face and marched out.

The soldier had been a Marine for several years, and the program handout proudly featured the Marine Corps Motto, and the Eagle, Globe and Anchor of which Marines are so rightly proud. The soldier had volunteered to serve with our unit. Semper Fidelis.

Don’t Eat Yellow Snow

2005-09-15T08:26:00.000-06:00

And watch what you’re drinking. We get Gatorade and Crystal Light packets to mix with water, as well as instant tea, and Kool Aid. Most soldiers just figure out the proper amount to pour into a half liter or one and a half liter bottle and mix the beverage in the bottle. You’ll see soldiers drinking red, green, orange, purple, yellow or brown liquid form the water bottles.

Of course, soldiers also use the bottles to spit in when they chew tobacco. And, the one and a half liter bottles are popular to use as, uh, chamber pots. If it was good enough for the founding fathers, one soldier said to me, it’s good enough for him.

Rather than get dressed and walk to the restroom, some soldiers choose to refill the large water bottles instead. Making Budweiser, some people would say. This is not limited to the male soldiers, though I’m sure it’s more prevalent among them. I heard the story of a KBR A/C repairman who went into a female CHU. Two female soldiers lived there, one of whom had some refilled bottles. The repairman knocked one over, and unfortunately the lid wasn’t on tight. It fell to the other roommate to clean up that hazardous waste spill, and she subsequently requested a new roommate.

I’ve been in CHUs with several large bottles of yellow liquid stacked on a shelf, or against the wall, or just lying around. For a while, the soldiers threw the bottles in the dumpster. The garbage men objected, so the soldiers had to either disguise the bottles before throwing them in the dumpster, or empty them in the restroom.

Just for the record, I don’t subscribe to the “if it’s good enough for the founding fathers” theory; no refilled bottles in my room.

Strategic Privates

2005-09-15T05:21:00.000-06:00

Strategic Privates exist, every unit has them, and they can determine an entire course of events.

Strategic Privates are soldiers whose acts or words influence policy, command philosophy, or standard operating procedure far beyond their rank or position. They are not always privates, but they typically are lower ranking soldiers. If CNN comes around, they seem to easily find the strategic private who will do or say something stupid or off command message.

In New Orleans, CNN won a lawsuit (I think it was dismissed) for the right to take photos of corpses and to access stricken areas of the city. After prevailing on this against the administration, CNN was later told by a Strategic Private that the military has its own rules and the military would not allow CNN the access it desired. An LTC later clarified and CNN was allowed its access. The LTC said something like “There are lots of ‘Joes’ out there and this one didn’t get the message.” No doubt that at least for a short time command devoted its scarce and precious time to clearing up the confusion sown by that Strategic Private.

Lindy England at Abu Ghraib is a good example of a Strategic Private, assuming that she was acting on her own and not according to direction. The soldier who asked Donald Rumsfeld about armor for HMMWVs was another Strategic Private. Richard Reid, that mope who tried to explode his shoes on the airplane, could be considered a Strategic Private. Remember Mathias Rust? The 19 year old German flew his Cessna into Red Square, thereby allowing Gorbachev an excuse to purge hardliners who were blamed for the security breach, and setting the stage for the end of the Soviet Union; the ultimate Strategic Private. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Athena_Rust

Watch for them. They’re out there. You’ve probably got one in your unit or your business. Despite your best efforts, the Strategic Private will find his or her way to the front, or to the reporters, and will take control of events away from the leaders.

Holy cow

2005-09-14T09:57:00.000-06:00

A soldier from Pocatello, Idaho told me that he’s looking forward to going home to assistant coach his youngest son’s baseball team. He said that his oldest son is going to Cooperstown.

We got to talking about livestock, somehow, and he shook his head at the sorry state of beef cattle here in Iraq. “I haven’t seen any beef cattle” he said, exaggerating, meaning that he hasn’t seen any up to his standards. “I saw some wondering around Sulaymaniyah, eating garbage out of garbage cans. They wouldn’t know grain fed beef if they tasted one” he said, warming to the subject. “Just like the chow hall’s motto. ‘I never saw a piece of meat I didn’t overcook.’ They can have this frickin’ country”.

I guess he’s ready to come home.

Car Wars Victory

2005-09-13T06:12:00.000-06:00

I wrote a few days ago about some Iraqis who were trying to lay claim to my NTV, but before I coughed it up we required verified proof of ownership. Well, the Iraqis produced their ownership documents which were shipped off to Baghdad. Baghdad determined that the documents were forgeries. Yes! I get to keep the NTV, at least for now. Ha ha! Take that, you bastards!

So there you go. An Iraqi success story. The Iraqi government has a functioning bureaucracy that is capable of determining vehicle ownership. Alert the media!

Hello, goodbye, hello, goodbye

2005-09-12T07:28:00.000-06:00

Yet another group of Air Force has rotated through our FOB. The group here when we arrived last December was around for a month or so, then rotated out, replaced by a new group. That group was here for four months, then they left and another new group came in. That group just left, and now the fourth group of Air Force service members has arrived. Four Air Force units, and we’re still here. (Oddly, the unit name never changes. I don’t get that)

One of the obvious questions is, can the AF be effective in such a short time? What about the learning curve? It seems that they are plenty effective, perhaps because what they do here is very similar to what they do before they come here. There have been some glitches, such as when some new airmen shot up a car full of Iraqi civilians, but all in all the AF pulls off the short rotations pretty well. In our area, much of the AF mission is on the FOB, infrastructure support and the like, so it is not new to them.

The last AF rotation was from a base located in our home state, and some of our soldiers live not far from the base. One of the soldiers told me “One of these days when we get back, I’m going to be in [his favorite bar] and I’m going to hear some of these AF guys talk about their four month Iraq rotation. I’m going to be sh*thouse drunk, and it’s not going to sit very well with me, and I might say something I regret.”

I don’t begrudge the AF their short rotations; it’s good work if you can get it. I do think that if the Army can learn entirely new missions, then so can the other services. As reported in the MSM (I’m not giving anything away), soldiers are doing primarily infantry and MP missions here, regardless of their type of unit. So, for example, if tankers can learn to do knock and searches, I would think that airmen and sailors could. I don’t see why some of the other services can’t bear more of the burden of this war. This might even free up National Guard for flood and fire duty.

Good Help Is Hard To Find

2005-09-11T07:41:00.000-06:00

Walking along the gravel road near our CHUs, I saw the cleaning crew spread out and working in various bathrooms and showers. The crew is composed of locals, supervised by a civilian, and overwatched by soldiers, which the soldiers call TCN (Third Country National) duty. I walked by the civilian, who was saying to the soldier “Look at ‘em. Diggin' for gold. None of ‘em got a damn thing.”

Looking up the road I saw a young Iraqi standing by a dumpster. He had the garbage can from a bathroom, to be emptied into the dumpster. But, before he dumped in the garbage, he sorted through the dumpster. He extracted a sack of potato chips and peered into it. Apparently empty, he threw it back and continued with his work.

Two soldiers carrying bulging green cloth laundry bags caught a ride with me the other day. Noticing the bags, and proudly demonstrating my command of the obvious, I said “Headed for the laundromat I see.” “Yes sir.”

They had chosen to do their laundry themselves, and spend about three hours doing it, rather than turn in the laundry to the KBR laundry. I asked them why, since they could turn in the laundry just a short distance from where they live, and it would save them hours of time.

“We work TCN duty” one of them said, as if that explained it all. “Oh, okay,” I said, “What does that have to do with it?”

“Well sir, we watch the locals who work in the KBR laundry, and it’s bad. Real bad. You don’t want to get your laundry done there. I saw one guy wipe his face with a clean shirt.”

Communist?

2005-09-09T08:15:00.000-06:00

I guess in some minds, the cold war isn't over.

After washing my hands before entering the chow hall, I struggled with the paper towel dispenser. Large non-perforated rolls of single ply tissue, about 8 inches wide, hang on pipes by the sinks. Soldiers tear off a length of tissue to dry their hands. The tissue is about the same consistency as toilet paper, and little pieces tend to tear off and stick to your hand after you dry them.

I was trying to start a new roll, which involves peeling off the big sticker, then trying to start the roll. Like toilet paper, the first few sheets are glued down, and it’s confusing which way the roll will roll, until you get a few layers off. Of course, as you peel off the layers, they rip down the middle.

As I peeled off strip after strip, the crusty old sergeant waiting behind me said “Boy, that’s a communist thing, isn’t it?” I said “My hands have air dried while I’ve been fighting it.” The female solder behind the sergeant said “It’s just being difficult, like everything else in this country.”

You want the truth?

2005-09-08T05:02:00.000-06:00

Americans seek “the truth” about what is happening in Iraq. I’ve have many people tell me that they would like to “really” know what is going over here. Americans have a huge stake in this war, in blood and money, and they want to know whether the endeavor is worth the cost.

The main stream media (MSM) is not trusted to accurately report. MSM focuses too much on the bad news and destruction, it is said, and by failing to report the good new the MSM presents a skewed picture of what is happening here. Conservatives recently sent a “Truth Tour” to Iraq because they think the good news isn’t getting out.

What is the truth about this war? I’m reminded about the story of the five blind men and the elephant. Each feels part of the elephant, the tail, the ear, leg, truck or side, and each describes the elephant in those terms. It is like a snake, or flat and thin, or like a tree truck. Each is correct, for the small part of the elephant they’re trying to describe, but none has the full picture.

Likewise, the reporting here tends to be about small events, and seldom does a citizen have enough freedom of movement to get around and be able to report the big picture. Military leaders do have a much better view of the big picture, but won’t talk about it for fear of encouraging the Anti-Iraqi Forces or of irritating higher or political leadership.

The most comprehensive reporting I’ve seen is in the Stars and Stripes, Middle East Edition. The paper edition daily carries many pages of stories about this war, and more importantly, its reporters are out there with the troops. Our unit has been visited many times by S&S reporters, and the resulting stories seem accurate and balanced. The stories printed also seem balanced; not overly sunny and mindlessly supportive of the war, but not unfairly critical. It also has the most personal interest stories I’ve seen.

Of course, that may be because it is the only paper I see regularly. But I get to see CNN, Fox News, MSNBC, ABC, and many internet news sources. We do also get hometown newspapers, and of all those, the S&S paper version has the most complete picture. Also, it carries letters to the editor that really let you know what is on the soldiers’ minds. And they’re often funny, as when a Marine complained about fat soldiers, of course drawing a counterattack. Another fascinating string erupted when a soldier complained about praying in the chow hall and suggested that prayer ought to be saved for church. Letters are available online. www.stripes.com

If you want some good news stories, check out The Snakebite at http://www.idarng.com/snakebite.asp. This is a unit newsletter, one of many like it, and while it definitely supports the command message and is pretty upbeat, it also reports reconstruction stories that you don’t see in the MSM, as well as soldier personal interest items.

If you want to know what’s “really” going on in Iraq, you’ll have to work at it and assemble it yourself from many sources.

Mudville Gazette

2005-09-07T12:29:00.000-06:00

I noticed that the Mudville Gazette has linked to a few of my posts lately. Thank you, and welcome to all Mudville Gazette readers. I hope you enjoy my blog.

I usually have to email in my postings and cannot see my blog, or respond to comments, due to security restrictions. I appreciate the comments you leave, which are emailed to me, and I'm sorry I can't respond to them.

Gently Rapping At My Chamber Door

2005-09-07T03:57:00.000-06:00

Over the past few months, I’ve heard knocking on my CHU door. Usually it was three quick Rap Rap Raps, sometimes four or five, but always kind of soft and evenly spaced.

Typically I’d hear this in the early morning, and most of the time I was still in bed. The rapping woke me up a few times, and other times I was lying there partially awake and trying to crawl out of the pit of sleep. I usually wondered if I had really heard it. I’d lie there and wait for another knock, but it would never come. Once in a while I’d roll over, crane my neck around my locker, and look for a shadow in the bright sunlight shining under my door, but I never saw anyone. One of life’s little mysteries.

One morning I got up early and stepped outside my CHU, headed for work, and I heard three quick Rap Rap Raps. As I looked around I heard it again, and then it dawned on me; I was hearing machine guns being test fired. Mystery solved.

Until 0200 a couple of nights ago. I was sound asleep, and dreaming. In my dream I was trying to print something in color (I guess I dream in color). The first page came out all crinkled and smeared. After adjustments, the next two pages came out sideways, and then I heard three sharp knocks, which woke me up. My first thought; weapons test firing. After a few moments I realized that the test firing had never awakened me up from a deep sleep, and that the knocks had been pretty loud and I thought it might actually be a visitor.

Of course, a 2 AM visitor never brings good news, so I rolled out of bed and opened the door wondering what evil had befallen me. The last time something like this happened, I was told my Uncle Eldon had been killed in a car wreck. But, it was my sergeant, doing her part to count noses. There had been a report of a missing soldier, so the units did a head count to account for everyone. I went back to sleep until I heard the machine guns later in the morning.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the FOB

2005-09-05T05:13:00.000-06:00

I was in a convoy a few days ago heading to another FOB, and midway on our trip we saw a civilian car turned on its side, with several Iraqis and their cars and little pickups milling around. By the debris on the road and the charred weeds, it was clear that an IED had just exploded.

Seeing no other military on the scene, except a couple of Iraqi police, we stopped to check it out. All the Iraqis, including the police, took off immediately, leaving the scene to us.

I couldn’t tell what type of car it had been, other than color and that it was a fairly new sedan, because the IED rent it asunder. Tires stripped off the wheels, frame bent, glass blown out, large chunks and tiny pieces strung all over the highway. The blast flipped the car up on its side and torched the weeds on the other side of the road.

There were also remains of the driver, although he was pretty well rent asunder as well. I don’t feel too sorry for the guy though. After an investigation was complete, it turns out that there were two guys killed in the explosion. They had emplaced an IED up the road a little ways – which by the way exploded with a deep BANG and a tall column of dust and black smoke while we were there - and they had stopped to emplace another. Apparently the 2nd one went off while the passenger was putting it down next to the car, and it killed both of them.

I’m not sure how to characterize this event. Human Tragedy? Just Desserts? Natural Selection? I have to admit, I’m not charitably inclined toward the former.

Car Wars

2005-09-04T09:49:00.000-06:00

This war has many battlefields.

When we first got here, everyone scrambled to get one of the few NTVs (Non Tactical Vehicles) available for soldiers to use. Without an NTV, the only way to get around is on foot (LPCs – leather personnel carriers), bicycle, or bus. Two of those involve physical exertion in the hot sun, so aren’t favored. The bus is OK, but time consuming. If I wanted to go to an hour meeting, I had to leave more than an hour early, then wait for a bus back, and it was usually a three hour endeavor to go to a one hour meeting. When I got my NTV it was a good day, and it has been nice to use in the since then.

My NTV has a checkered past. A starter went out, and we couldn’t get a replacement because the NTV was not covered by the lease contract. It is a rogue, probably confiscated from someone. We haven’t been paying for it.

The other day, four Iraqis showed up at my door, with a soldier escort, and in very broken English demanded the NTV. They wanted to drive it away, and I knew if they did I’d never see it again. I scrambled around and talked to our logistics folks, who said that we need to require some proof of ownership, Iraqi title documents. We will then send the documents to Baghdad to verify ownership and status. Some confiscated vehicles must be returned to the owner, others can stay on our use, depending on from whom they were confiscated.

Hopefully this process will go slowly and I can use the vehicle for the rest of the time I’m here. Otherwise, it’s back on the bus for me.

Mammy

2005-09-01T06:26:00.000-06:00

I suppose soldiers and shovels have been partners for thousands of years. It's no different here.

While walking through the new tent city I saw five soldiers with shovels standing and just looking around. I went over to see what they were doing, and as we stood there a little front end loader, like a Bobcat, turned a corner and drove toward us. It got a few feet away, dumped a load of rocks, then spun around and headed back to the rock pile for a refill. The soldiers got busy with the shovels, spreading out the rocks to form a pathway between the tents so that when it rains, soldiers do not have to walk through mud.

When the loader dumped the rocks, it also unleashed a choking cloud of dust. One of the soldiers buried his face in the crook of his elbow. Another squeezed his eyes shut and turned away, a natural but pointless act since the dust swirled all around us. After it cleared a bit, I noticed that the soldiers were all thickly coated with grime, except their eyes and lips, making them look like brown faced Al Jolsons.

I continued on to lunch (spaghetti & meatballs), they continued to shovel rocks in the 110 degree heat.

Relief in Sight

2005-08-31T06:28:00.000-06:00

It has been a 115 degrees (46 C) or hotter every day since I returned from leave in June. I have scanned the sky every day, looking for clouds, but have seen none. None. I had thought that we’d have a summer storm or two sweep through, but no. Just an unbroken string of cloudless hot days.

The last couple of days have been a little cooler, 112 or 113 F, but last night and today I saw a harbinger of relief on the horizon; clouds. Not a lot of them, but some, and they’ve built up today so that instead of just a couple, we now have quite a few.

I’m hoping that the clouds mean cooler weather is coming.

Tent city

2005-08-30T07:53:00.000-06:00

We are going to get to leave here one of these days, I can’t say exactly when, but it’s coming up pretty soon. As part of our transition out of here almost everyone will move into a tent city that is being set up.

I wrote about the earth moving and dust creating a few days ago, and that was part of setting up the tent city. The field was flattened and graded for run off, and then wooden floors constructed. Now the tents are being erected.

Each tent is about 20 feet by 50 feet, and made of fabric with a rubbery coating. These are brand new tents, provided by the Air Force. They are tan, and each has a fly above it. The fly is the same size as the roof, and is held about 10 inches above the roof so air can circulate and reduce solar heating. Inside the tents are black, but all have in inner white liner, again for insulation and to lighten up the inside. A divider cuts the interior in two, with a door between.

Each tent comes with an air conditioner/heater and a light set, and a large air plenum runs down the middle of the ceiling to distribute the air. All in all, pretty nice, for tents. Way better that that nasty greasy canvas stuff we used to have to use.

The tents open onto a concrete walkway, which will be nice during the muddy season. There are lots of tents, but we also have lots of soldiers to pack into them, so I guess each tent will house are least dozens of soldiers. Exactly how many per tent remains to be seen. Our stay in the tents should be short, maybe a couple of weeks.

Slug it out

2005-08-29T08:20:00.000-06:00

Our FOB held a “smoker”, an amateur boxing match, the other night in the gym, and it was the most well-attended MWR event ever. Hundreds of spectators came to watch about 12-14 matches, two of which featured female fighters. One female match was planned in advance, but the other was just two soldiers who got inspired and decided to box. The skinny fast female won that, because she’d throw a few punches then run behind the referee.

Weights ran from a low of 145 pounds to a high of around 250 pounds, and most of the matches were pretty even. One match, a grudge match I guess, was between soldiers in the same unit. However, one fighter weighed around 200 lbs and 6 feet tall, the other 250 lbs, 6 ft 6 inches. The big guy won.

Most of the fighters just went out and flailed away, throwing a spectacular number of punches. All of them were exhausted by the last, the third, round. Round were two minutes with a one minute rest between. The referee was pretty aggressive about protecting the boxers, and he stopped over half of the matches. Our surgeon was there and checked out the pugilists as well.

The rounds started off with an air horn to start and stop rounds, but it ran dry and they ended up using a whistle. Only two helmets and two sets of boxing gloves were available, so the time between fights was a bit slow.

The guys who spend lots of time in the gym preferred to fight with their shirts off. One of the female boxers has her dad here, and he was in her corner giving her the benefit of his boxing wisdom. Another boxer, one of the heavyweights, has his wife here, and she was in his corner.

You’ve heard the saying, don’t bring a knife to a gun fight. Well that night, most people brought guns to a boxing match.

Circularity

2005-08-27T05:18:00.000-06:00

President Bush was in Idaho last week, thanking the Idaho National Guard and other service members for serving in Iraq. As he pointed out, of all 50 states Idaho currently has the highest percentage of its Guard force on active duty. There are a few Idaho soldiers serving elsewhere, but almost all of the state's Army Guard is now in Iraq.

So, the people George Bush was thanking weren't there because they were away doing what he was thanking them for. Still, it was nice to be recognized and thanked, though a bit surreal. The President was in Idaho thanking Idaho soldiers who were in Iraq watching the President on Al-Jazeera TV.

Modern medicine

2005-08-26T07:52:00.000-06:00

Today a couple of soldiers told me about one of their many visits to the hospital in Kirkuk. They didn’t exactly describe things as I am here, and they saw this stuff over several visits, but for the ease of telling I’m going to write it as one visit. All the facts and info came from the soldiers. I just added the narrative.

The soldiers took an Iraqi to the hospital to be treated for a gunshot wound. When they first pulled up to the hospital, they saw bloody bandages and dressings scattered around the outside. They saw a bunch of needles lying on the ground. The hospital is run down, dirty and trashy, inside and outside, and has a terrible smell.

Once inside, they saw more bloody bandages on the floor in the hallway and rooms. They laid their patient on a gurney made of plywood. The top was dirty and had fresh blood on it from another patient. The patient lay bleeding there quite a while with no medical personnel paying attention to him, but with his family standing around him, wailing and crying and adding to the chaos. The people standing around him were smoking, and the patient was having trouble breathing, but his family continued to smoke around him.

They saw a dead young girl lying on the blood stained cement floor in the hallway. No one paid much attention to her, either. Locals bring in blankets for their relatives, as the hospital has none. The locals also tear up sheets to serve as bandages, again, because of shortages.

They saw a dead patient be lifted from a bed and carted off to lie in the hallway. The bed was soaked with blood. A new patient was put on the blood soaked bed.

They took a recently arrived lieutenant with them, and he emerged white faced and shaken. The soldiers wondered what rural hospitals are like, if a city hospital had these conditions.

For better or for worse

2005-08-25T10:36:00.000-06:00

As I exited the chow hall tonight carrying my foil covered chicken breast and broccoli, a soldier said hello. I’ve gotten to know this soldier fairly well on the deployment, and I asked him how things have been going.

“I was on emergency leave” he solemnly informed me. Emergency leave is granted when the soldier has a serious problem back home; a death in the family, a life threatening situation, or some emergency that requires the soldier’s presence. I have worked several emergency leave cases, and usually it’s a matter of the commander trying to decide if the request meets the criteria required by the regulation.

Death = approved. New baby = maybe. Post partum depression = doubtful. It’s almost always bad news. The run of the mill new baby doesn’t rate emergency leave; the ones that almost kill mom leaving her a basket case incapable of caring for the other kids, and no other family is around, can justify the leave.

I said “Uh oh, that doesn’t sound good. What happened?” As I’ve written, I think people don’t bring this stuff up unless they want you to ask about it.

“My wife burnt down the house and blew up my pickup” he replied, calmly. Immediately I thought “Man, this guy is going through a REALLY nasty divorce.” He added “And she got pregnant.” Of course, I thought that not only was she really mad at him, she was sleeping with some other guy. Even though the person might want to talk about it, you still have to be sensitive. You can’t just say “Jeezus. What a b*tch.” You never know.

I said “Well, I hope you were there when she got pregnant.” “Oh yeah” he said. I thought, this guy’s soon-to-be-ex torched his house and bombed his truck, and he gets her pregnant? “What were you thinking?” I blurted, shocked. He showed me a new wedding ring he was sporting, a beautiful Titanium and Platinum ring, three bands in one ring, grayish, lighter in the middle third. “Feel it” he offered, and handed me the ring. I hefted it and handed it back, by now really confused.

Turns out that on the Fourth of July, his wife left the garage door open. Some kids threw fireworks in the garage and got things going. A propane bottle exploded and took out his truck. The garage burned. The rest of the house was spared, but smoke damage pretty much ruined everything.

Good news; insurance will cover the damage. Bad news; with the new baby, they now need a minivan. Goodbye to the pickup days.

Bottoms up

2005-08-23T08:02:00.000-06:00

We are supposed to drink only bottled water because the local water is suspect, and this rule is easy to comply with. Pallets of bottled water are frequently deposited anywhere that soldiers congregate. Lots of them in the living areas, many near offices and the gym, and I even saw a pallet next to the running track.

Most of the bottles are 1.5 liters, but half liter sizes are available and much sought after. If you get a cold 1.5 liter bottle (about a quart and a half), it gets warm before you can finish it. Also, because you can’t drink that much very quickly, you always end up setting it down somewhere, like everybody else, and then you can’t remember which water bottle was yours. I guess the Army buys the large bottles because they’re cheaper, but in the long run I doubt it saves much money, because of all the wasted water in the big bottles.

These pallets unfortunately just sit out in the sun and wind, so if you grab a bottle during the day it’s going to be 120 degrees or more. After not too long the bottles are dust caked, which makes them look like they’ve been sitting in the heat for a long time. No one seems to want to drink water that’s been sitting in the sun for weeks, so the dirty bottles tend to build up and hang around for a long time.

The water doesn’t seem to go bad, but who knows? Maybe that is the source of an ongoing gastrointestinal problem that plagues the FOBs. Or, maybe it is the non-potable water we have to use. Showers and bathrooms use non-potable water. It’s tough to keep water completely out of your mouth and off your lips when you shower, if you try to take a good shower. Some soldiers brush their teeth with the sink water. And, since we wash and rinse with the non-potable water, how clean can our hands be? Let all the eye rubbers, nose pickers and finger lickers be warned.

I talked to a soldier whose job it is to run a high-volume water purifier. They do what they can, but they don’t make enough water for showers and bathrooms. He told me that local well water for soldiers’ use is pumped into an open topped tank on one of the FOBs, so bugs get in the water, and birds swoop down into it. Recently they found a dead cat in the tank.

Y'all get cleaned up for dinner

2005-08-22T06:21:00.000-06:00

A graveled field separates our chow hall from the soldier housing area, and many soldiers walk across it on the way to chow. Others, like me, stumble across it because it is nearly paved with large rocks, some as big as your head, most about fist size, smaller ones mixed in. The rocks are a way of avoiding walking through mud when it rains.

Lately the field has been prepared for future operations by grading it flat and mostly level, with some slope to account for run off. The rocks have been turned under and covered with dirt. As part of the process, Hesco barriers are being erected to protect soldiers from rocket attacks. Hesco barriers are 6 foot cubes made of strong wire mesh lined with a heavy fabric. Picture making a thick flexible fabric out of cement. The barriers are shipped folded flat. After being unfolded and emplaced, usually several in a row shoulder to shoulder, the cubes are scoop-loaded full of dirt. A quick, and I suppose relatively cheap, way to shield soldiers from indirect fire.

Soldiers continue to walk across the field as it is prepped, but risk getting dusted. A stiff breeze blows across the field, and as a scoop loader gobbles up a huge bucket of earth from the trucked-in piles, a thick cloud of dirt kicks up. This cloud rides the wind and attacks across the field, engulfing unwary soldiers and completely swallowing them, like The Blob. After disappearing briefly, the soldier reappears, usually stumbling, head down, face and eyes twisted shut, and often waving at the dust like it’s smoke in the face.

At dinner time it’s usually about 115 degrees, so even after the cloud moves on much of it is left stuck to the perspiring soldier.

Moral quandry

2005-08-16T10:29:00.000-06:00

Our chow hall has a one way flow through it. Once you exit the back door, the only way back in is to go around, show your ID card, and reenter through the front. Tonight I walked outside, dumped my plastic plate into the trash, and headed for the parking lot. I turned back to look at something and saw a couple of soldiers walking toward me. One was carrying in his left hand a plate of food for his buddy, covered with aluminum foil, and holding the napkin and utensils on top of the plate with his right hand. He saw me turn to look at him, so he snapped out a salute. Of course, the no longer secure napkin and utensils blew off and tumbled into the dirt at his feet. I wonder if he went clear around and back through the chow hall to get clean utensils, or if he just dusted them off and didn’t say anything to his buddy. What would you do?

Dahling, you've never looked so lovely

2005-08-16T08:25:00.000-06:00

I had to use the internet café to post a blog, not my favorite thing to do. The A/C is weak and I was perspiring before I even got fully logged on. You have only a hard wood bench to sit on, and if it’s too close, or too far away, tough, because 3 other soldiers are sitting on it as well. The person next to you is just inches away; sometimes you bump elbows.

The last time I was in the internet cafe the guy next to me was a two finger typist. He typed fairly quickly using just his two pointer fingers, but that method requires a pretty close focus on the keys, so he was glaring down at the keyboard. What he lost in typing speed he made up for in vigor. He’d stab out a few letters, then WHACK the space bar, type a bit more and WHACK the enter key. I started to feel sorry for the keyboard. I’ll bet his two pointer fingers are shorter now than when the deployment began. Because both arms were pumping up an down, the guy's upper body was rocking from side to side.

I looked at the magazine rack on the way out, and noticed that someone had doodled on a picture of a famous actress. With the goatee, I think she nowe looks like Dennis Miller. I also saw similar doodling on a cover photograph of the new Pope, but that was a week ago and the magazine was no longer there on my most recent visit. I wonder if that had anything to do with the two little devil’s horns someone drew sticking out of the Pope’s hat.

What did Dewey do?

2005-08-15T03:40:00.000-06:00

Between where soldiers live and the chow hall, wetlands have developed. Gray water, water from sinks and showers, drains into a large holding tank. The gray water used to be pumped out and into tankers to be taken to a sewage treatment facility, or at least off the FOB. Black water from the toilets is still pumped and hauled away, but they quit trucking off the gray water because of lack of trucks, I think.

A large drainage ditch cuts across the path from the living area to the chow hall, and into this ditch the gray water is pumped. The water flows down the ditch and ends up in a holding pond, where it seeps into the ground, or evaporates. The ditch is uneven and the low spots always contain standing water because the holding tank is emptied daily. Reeds and plants are growing, and it attracts birds, so a little habitat is developing.

The gray water is laden with soap, phosphates I guess, which is nutrient for aquatic plant life, algae looking stuff. The ditch and ponds are lined with sheets of algae, the rocks thorough and over which the water flows are green and scummy, and the water smells like the drain in your kitchen sink.

People being human, they do not want to walk around the ditch so they cut across it. At two or three crossing points, large rocks form stepping stones. Since the rocks can be slick, and since the water is nasty, you tend to pay attention to where you’re stepping. Crossing the ditch on the way to lunch today, I noticed that someone has left a message written on one of the stepping stones, where it is sure to be read: “F**k off, Dewey!” Not exactly a message in a bottle, but it gets the point across.

Wrinkle free

2005-08-13T08:03:00.001-06:00

I watched a soldier carefully fold his tee shirts in the Laundromat. His entire laundry consisted of five brown Under Armor tee shirts, the tight stretchy kind that fit sort of like spandex. He carefully laid out each shirt and smoothed out all wrinkles with the side of his hand. He tugged at the seams, pulling each straight and flat. Once he got the shirt lying as flat and wrinkle free as a piece of paper, he folded up the bottom 2-3 inches, creating a cuff around the outside of the shirt. Next he folded it into thirds, vertically, taking care to keep the sleeves unwrinkled.

As I watched, I wondered why all the effort at avoiding wrinkles; it’s a stretch shirt and any wrinkles it might have will disappear as soon as he puts it on. Once he got it neatly into thirds, he started tightly rolling it up at the neck, pressing down so hard that his fingertips whitened. When he got to the end, he tucked the folded shirt into the cuff and was left with a neat 4 inch long tee shirt sausage, suitable for inspection.