- Floating parking lots
- A cat that acts drunk, but really isn’t
- Extreme load bearing tests of the roof on a 1978 Chevy Suburban
- A friend of a friend who I haven’t seen in over 7 years
- A bird nest, in the hallway of the Iraqi Customs Security Building
- CareBears
- The ridiculousness that ensues when a general officer wants to tour of the port facility
Since I ended last time with a sad story about a cat, let me start this blog off with a feel good story that involves a cat. Let me tell you about Hippster. Hippster is a young stray cat that has become the unofficial mascot of the POETT at Haider. He should, for all intents and purposes, be dead. As a kitten he got into some rat poison which messed him up pretty good. It affected his muscle motor control which robs him of the sleek and graceful movement of a normal cat and replaced it with the gait of a drunkard. He walks sideways most of the time and frequently falls down for no apparent reason. His disability doesn’t stop him from being a cat though. He chases flies, climbs Hesco barriers and loves attention just like your typical feline. If it wasn’t for the POETT caring for him thus earning him the title of best fed cat in Iraq, he never would have survived his first kitty birthday in this harsh environment. He’s got good protection now, just as long as he doesn’t start side stepping up the grain tower stairs any time soon.
The Hippster
Yesterday and today was spent getting ready for a big visit from some high ranking folks at the POE. It was just coincident that LTC Ron and I were here for the tour and we were witness to a magical transformation of the port that only happens when important people come calling. Barriers were suddenly painted bright white, workers were actually wearing uniforms and trash that normally litters the place was partially picked up. In the last 24 hours, they tidied the entire port up in preparation for an Iraqi and US General visit. I guess it’s really no different than what we would do in the Army, or for that matter, what any normal person would do. If you have guest coming over, you tend to clean the dishes in the sink, hit the visible areas with a duster and even pick up the dirty laundry on the floor. I think it’s human nature to do that, but in this case it seems counterproductive to our efforts to make things better. A fresh coat of paint just hides the desperate need for infrastructure improvements, litter picked up from the vehicle inspection lot doesn’t allow one to see that the lot is made of roofing tar poured on the ground instead of asphalt or concrete, and a clean, pressed uniform only conceals the corruption of the person wearing it. Sometimes I think the high ranking individuals forget the lessons they should have learned with their rank and their little “visits” don’t accomplish anything but getting everyone into a frenzy to put on a show that doesn’t reflect truth.
5 star accomodations
The one good thing about the tour happened before the entourage showed up. I was sitting in the largest room the unit had for briefings when I noticed a guy sitting near the refrigerator that I recognized, or at least I thought I did. Turned out that he was a friend of a friend that I only briefly met many moons ago that I didn’t recognize because he had a mustache (and I think he put on some weight). Our mutual friends from Kansas had told each other that we would be in country at the same time, but Iraq is a big place. The chances of me getting to the border where he now worked were one in a million, but here we were, shooting the bull about our different experiences in the land of sand. It’s a small Army.
Bird nest in the hallway of the port
Our mission should end tonight as we catch two helos leaving for Sykes, although with our luck on transportation, this is more hopeful thinking than an actual plan. It’s been a good visit here to the border and I have a new sense of purpose in my job to help the port team and their mission at Rabea’a. Although the team didn’t have much, they offered up the little space they had, they fed us grilled food from their personal stash when our only other options were MREs or tainted MKT (mobile kitchen trailer) food, and they made two relative strangers feel welcome in a very foreign place. I feel vested in the future of their assignment here and having a goal will keep me focused (and that should make the time go by faster, I hope).
I don't know what's sadder, the fact that Love-a-Lot Bear is co-pilot of this truck or that I know his name is Love-a-Lot.
4 comments:
i hope that those suburbans don't have to make any sharp turns. are all the roads straight?
sure would like to hear the cat story.....
Since grandpam wanted to know, here is the story. Warning, for those of you with weak stomachs or cat lovers, you might want to go to another page.
Okay, so I’m on the top of this grain tower, 13 stories above the FOB and POE below and the Major is busy pointing to this and that on the ground below. We walk along the edge of the roof towards the side of the building closest to the port. The Major steps on a warped piece of plywood to point to the new vehicle inspection lot when out of the corner of my eye I see something move below me. At first, my mind told me it was a bird that was frightened by our loud talking, but then the Major barked an expletive and I realized that the bird had a tail. It wasn’t a bird at all, but a cat that we must have scared out from under the plywood and he darted out to run away. In an effort to get away from us, it leaped over the edge. The strange thing was the cat hung in the air for what appeared like forever. He seemed to float. You almost wanted to yell at someone below to try and catch him, but there was no one to yell to. He was a feline base jumper making a daring escape from the authorities and he hurdled himself while keeping a perfect form, legs and tail extended, all the way down. You would have thought that as he saw the ground fast approaching (and realizing that he did not in fact have a parachute) that he would spaz or freak out, but he didn’t. He never even meowed or squirmed which added to the purposeful perception of his flight and he was determined to land on his feet, like any good cat would do.
The Major, who is in every sense a snake eating killer, has a soft spot for cats, and he felt really bad about what had happened. There are stray cats everywhere on the base, but what was this cat doing on the 13th floor of the grain building? We both felt bad for the little guy and tried to convince ourselves that our 4 legged friend had a great flight, enjoying all 9 of his lives on his one and only free fall.
How sad. :(
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