Going back to Cali...

Going Back to Cali...

They found our bags! They had not fallen off the truck on the way to the airport, they didn’t find them floating in the Atlantic, and they were not stolen by terrorist in an evil plot to steel our individual supplies of Gold Bond powder and beef jerky. Somehow they never made it off the plane when we landed in Kuwait and were taken back with a Marine unit stationed in California returning from theater. Now the question is how are we going to get this stuff back in time for us to show up at our next duty station? Enter our friends at Federal Express who are going to get the bags and fly them over to us in a most Ricky-Tick fashion. We won’t get them for a few days still, and most likely they will meet us in Iraq instead of here in Kuwait, but at least the days of washing my underwear in the sink are numbered. I’m looking forward to getting my stuff back. Even though I had packed two pair of running shoes in 2 of the 4 missing duffle bags, in order to be able to wear my PT uniform I had to purchase a pair of horrendously ugly, day-glow orange running shoes at the Base Exchange. I chose them not because I’m a fan of day-glow orange, but they were the only shoes they had in my size since the pickn’s are slim in the middle of no-where.

Tonight is suppose to be steak and crab night in the dining facility, or at least that’s the rumor. Now before you go thinking that life can’t be so tough for a soldier when the Army is feeding him/her a surf and turf meal, let me say that while it can be morale booster, it is often a crushing let down since the steaks are boiled and the crab legs are rubbery. It’s still better than chile-mac and dried chicken, but only slightly.