Leaving on a jet plane...

The laundry is all done, allowing me to start my new job with clean socks and t-shirts. The pictures are all down from their places on the wall and, along with some “boodle”, are tucked into easily accessible places for the long flight. The gear is all packed up and with the exception of a small backpack, a toothbrush, my computer and poncho liner, it’s all crammed into 4 large green duffle bags, all painted with my name and last four of my social, waiting to be loaded onto trucks sometime in the next day or two. I’ve been freshly sheared so as not to deploy as a walking Chia Head and preventing me from hunting for a barber during my transition through the various countries I’ll be visiting on my way to the “sandbox”. My batteries for my MP3 player, laptop, flashlights, and PSP are all fully charged and along with a stack of magazines, stationary and various paperbacks, are fully prepared to help me fight the boredom of a 22 to 24 hour plane trip. Uncle Sam has also added even more to my resume of shots in the form of Anthrax and hepatitis B #2 thus bettering my post-deployment chances in a career as a professional pincushion or lab monkey. The internet guy is coming out soon to disable my electronic access to the world at large (and my main source of communication with my friends and family), and the cell phone goes dead tomorrow afternoon. Not much left to do but wait. Oh, there is a “graduation ceremony” some time tomorrow that the powers that be decided we needed to have (which was received with a groan from most of the deployees). There is also the cleaning of the barracks that will take place in the morning allowing those who follow in our footsteps the advantages of sleeping in a clean room and using a clean shower; luxuries that were not afforded to us since we spent the better part of two days cleaning the mildew out of our bathrooms in order to comfortably use them. We’ll eat in the chow hall a few more times which we will do begrudgingly since we are growing tired of the shredded lettuce salad bar, dried chicken and variations of the “ball of meat” courses that have become the staple of our Ft. Riley diets these past 3 months. And there will be more waiting, an art that the military has perfected.

So, as I said before, it looks like this thing is really going to happen. A lot of folks have asked me if I’m ready for this. I guess I am. I know that doesn’t sound as confident as I would like it to but that’s how I feel. I’ve been given a LOT of training and empowered with a lot of information to help me do my job and hopefully, do it well. I’m not sure if I’m anxious to just get this job done with or if I’m just eager to leave Kansas!

People also ask me if I’m scared of getting hurt, or worse. Since most of the injuries have been based on being the unlucky vehicle in the convoy that gets hit, or being in the inopportune place when the random mortar round comes in, the chances of getting hurt are just that: chance. It doesn’t make much sense to be scared of something that is so random that no matter how much training you receive to protect you and your fellow soldiers, or how much armor you burden yourself down with or hide behind, or the degree of firepower you have at your disposal to inflict on the enemy, it won’t matter if you are unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. This doesn’t mean that if given the opportunity I won’t use that training, armor, and firepower to make sure me and my fellow soldiers get out of a sticky situation. On the contrary, I don’t plan on making it easy to get hurt. What it does mean is that I’m not going to preoccupy my mind with fear and instead try to focus on the things that are within my control. This may sound all macho and cocky, but it’s not meant to be because the answer to question of whether or not I’m scared is yes; I am a little scared. One would be foolish not to be with the knowledge that there are people out there who are willing to sacrifice themselves and others to hurt you and those around you. But I’m more scared of failing the people who depend on me than of getting hurt or dying.

So with that I will not say goodbye, but rather “so long” since I hope to have internet access on the other side to continue my blogging. Besides, today’s blog has gotten a little too interpersonal for my taste and it’s best to end it before I blather on any more. So in the immortal words of Ben Affleck in the movie Armageddon:

“All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go (how in the hell am I suppose to carry 4 duffles at once?)
I'm standin' here outside your door (or sitting in the bleachers at some gym on post)
I hate to wake you up to say goodbye (don’t wake me from my nap)

But the dawn is breakin', it's early morn (someone has to talk to the Army about sleeping in)
The taxi's waitin', he's blowin' his horn (more like a big yellow school bus)
Already I'm so lonesome I could die (but I’ve got a whole bunch of other folks to share the misery)

So kiss me and smile for me (don’t ask, don’t tell)
Tell me that you'll wait for me (best not to wait cuz this is going to be a while)
Hold me like you'll never let me go (there won’t be a lotta huggin’ going on)

'Cause I'm leaving on a jet plane (a big one at that)
I don't know when I'll be back again (hopefully not 15 months from now)
Oh, babe, I hate to go” (yes... I hate to go, but don’t fret, I shall return)