Cooking - 5/29/07
.
Today I ran a familiarization range for the soldiers and airmen in my
section. Because most of the staff folks don't shoot much, it is
important to keep what little weapon skills they have by doing some
routine training. We had a good smattering of folks out to brave the
heat today for some basic rifle and pistol shooting, from the steely
eyed killers with tricked out M4s and itchy trigger fingers to the
shaking sheep who were so scared at the fact that they were holding a
deadly weapon that they didn't know which way to put the ammunition in
it ("Hey! The bullets come out of THAT end so don't point it at
anyone!"). Through some repetitive drills, a little bit of yelling and
lots of mentoring, we got most of them to actually put holes in their
targets only 7 meters away. Overall it was a good experience, until the
mortars came. Now mortar fire into the IZ is pretty regular. In fact,
you can expect to be taking cover at least twice a day. Most times the
alarms go off and you don't hear the boom, but other time you hear the
boom, followed by the sound of the alarms that are suppose to tell you
the rockets are coming. Kind of backwards if you ask me. In any case,
one minute I'm assisting a class on how to transition from their rifle
to their pistol and the next minute I'm hearing the sirens and hugging
the ground, wishing I could make myself flatter. Now, I'm going to let
you in on a little bit of info I failed to mention before. It's hot
here in the Middle East. It's not "summer hot" yet, but the temps are
still about 113 at the hottest part of the day. When the sun beats down
on things, like car hoods, sides of buildings, T-walls and weapons that
you lay on the ground, they too follow the laws of thermodynamics and
get hot. Picture if you will a bunch of folks, sweating from shooting
all day in the hot sun, suddenly throwing their bodies to the cement and
gravel deck in order to protect themselves from the possibility that an
explosion is about to land near them and ruin their day. You might see
them lay still for a little bit, but the hot concrete that they are
laying on is now radiating the heat it's collected all day right back at
them. Lying there, trying to avoid incoming, I could smell Korean
cooking.
.
"Wait a minute, that's ME cooking" I muttered as I tried to achieve
a compromise between a low profile and a careful balancing act on the
toes of my boots and my elbows in order to keep as many body parts off
the ground as I could. The "All clear" siren had not gone off yet and I
was getting warmer and warmer. I was starting to understand the plight
of bacon in a hot skillet.
.
"Great." I thought to myself. "I'm going to survive my first month
in theater only to be cooked to death on the ground of some rifle
range!" Eventually we got up and moved to a safer bunker, but not
before all the sweat on my uniform had dried up leaving only swirls of
white salt stains.
.
.
Interesting fact of the day: Slab side full auto M-16 lowers are very
old versions of the Army's main assault rifle. When I say old, I mean
Vietnam era old. Most of us now carry the M16A2, or the M4 carbine.
Today, from the hands of a United States Air Force pilot, I held a M16
slab sided rifle in my hands (with A2 hand guards) and was shocked that
they actually issued this weapon to him to go to war with. I guess
when we start depending on the Air Force to start shooting their rifles
well in a land war, then we're all in trouble. I told the pilot to
stick to fighting his battles in the air. He and his only slightly
perforated target agreed.
29 May 2007
See?
I had two spelling errors in that last blog. I typed "fort" instead of
"for" and "blog" instead of "blocked". I need to work on my
proofreading more.
"for" and "blog" instead of "blocked". I need to work on my
proofreading more.
Blocked again
Looks like Uncle Sam's access to the Blogger page is once again blocked.
Here is what it gives me each time I try to log on.
.
"In accordance with MNF-I Memo 11.1, Annex F.12: The internet will not
be used to access unauthorized web pages (i.e. pornographic, gambling,
extremist, or racist websites). Playing games, conducting personal
business for financial gain, using any chat services (i.e. Yahoo/MS/AOL
Messenger, MIRC, AKO Chat, etc.) or using streaming audio/video are not
authorized."
.
What's up with that? As far as I know, there is no porn, gambling,
extremism or racism on Blogger. I also can't play games, make money,
chat or use streaming video/audio on Blogger. It's not like I'm sitting
here all day trying to update my blog or anything. For the most part, I
type the things at night on my personal laptop and bring it into work to
upload before I even start work.
.
Just one more way fort "the man" to keep me down. I guess it's back to
the "email your blog in" method, which sucks because you can't put
pictures or edit what you type after you send it in. It's all good
though. I hope to get different access in the near future if they ever
move me to a permanent hooch. Rumor mill says that they will bring in
wireless access for a small fee. We'll see how that goes.
.
Interesting fact of the day: I hate silly firewalls that blog
everything with the word "blog" in it.
Here is what it gives me each time I try to log on.
.
"In accordance with MNF-I Memo 11.1, Annex F.12: The internet will not
be used to access unauthorized web pages (i.e. pornographic, gambling,
extremist, or racist websites). Playing games, conducting personal
business for financial gain, using any chat services (i.e. Yahoo/MS/AOL
Messenger, MIRC, AKO Chat, etc.) or using streaming audio/video are not
authorized."
.
What's up with that? As far as I know, there is no porn, gambling,
extremism or racism on Blogger. I also can't play games, make money,
chat or use streaming video/audio on Blogger. It's not like I'm sitting
here all day trying to update my blog or anything. For the most part, I
type the things at night on my personal laptop and bring it into work to
upload before I even start work.
.
Just one more way fort "the man" to keep me down. I guess it's back to
the "email your blog in" method, which sucks because you can't put
pictures or edit what you type after you send it in. It's all good
though. I hope to get different access in the near future if they ever
move me to a permanent hooch. Rumor mill says that they will bring in
wireless access for a small fee. We'll see how that goes.
.
Interesting fact of the day: I hate silly firewalls that blog
everything with the word "blog" in it.
28 May 2007
1 month - 5/29/07
1 Month - 5/29/07
I was taking the bus into work today... okay, let me clarify that since it sounds kind of weird. We live in a different base than where we work, therefore each day we “commute” to work on little busses with all of our gear on. The distance is not far and you can probably walk it when it’s cool outside, but being out in the open for no apparent reason is not wise here, so we take a bus. It’s a little bus that can hold roughly 18 soldiers or so. They are usually piloted by local nationals and the radio blurts out musak or Arabic tunes as we take the short 5 minute trip to the “office”. I just had to explain it because it sounds strange to picture us hanging out at a bus stop in body armor and weapons.
So anyway, I’m riding in the bus this morning on my way to work and I’m sitting next to a sergeant who does not work in my section, but deployed with the same unit as me. We were engaging in small talk about being in Iraq when we came to the epiphany that today marked the 1 month anniversary of being deployed overseas. It’s hard to believe that 30 days ago I landed in the desert to start the magic 365 countdown, which mean’s I’m 1/12 through this fun filled Middle Eastern vacation! And no sooner than we stopped giving each other verbal congratulations than the radio busted out with an instrumental version of the Carpenters “We’ve Only Just Begun.”
Interesting fact of the day: I hate the Carpenters today.
In other news, Brendan decided to actually post a blog entry. Strange things are afoot at the Circle K.
I was taking the bus into work today... okay, let me clarify that since it sounds kind of weird. We live in a different base than where we work, therefore each day we “commute” to work on little busses with all of our gear on. The distance is not far and you can probably walk it when it’s cool outside, but being out in the open for no apparent reason is not wise here, so we take a bus. It’s a little bus that can hold roughly 18 soldiers or so. They are usually piloted by local nationals and the radio blurts out musak or Arabic tunes as we take the short 5 minute trip to the “office”. I just had to explain it because it sounds strange to picture us hanging out at a bus stop in body armor and weapons.
So anyway, I’m riding in the bus this morning on my way to work and I’m sitting next to a sergeant who does not work in my section, but deployed with the same unit as me. We were engaging in small talk about being in Iraq when we came to the epiphany that today marked the 1 month anniversary of being deployed overseas. It’s hard to believe that 30 days ago I landed in the desert to start the magic 365 countdown, which mean’s I’m 1/12 through this fun filled Middle Eastern vacation! And no sooner than we stopped giving each other verbal congratulations than the radio busted out with an instrumental version of the Carpenters “We’ve Only Just Begun.”
Interesting fact of the day: I hate the Carpenters today.
In other news, Brendan decided to actually post a blog entry. Strange things are afoot at the Circle K.
Happy Memorial Day
Happy Memorial Day
Today is Memorial Day. For most of the folks back home, they are enjoying a long weekend off from work or school. For some, this weekend marks the unofficial start to summer and they are at the lake or campground bringing in the warm weather by enjoying the outdoors. For others, they are riding their motorcycles through the streets of our nation's capital bringing awareness of Americans who have not returned home from combat overseas. Regardless of what you end up doing today, remember what Memorial Day is for. Today is a day to appreciate the freedom of being an American and enjoy the liberties that were bought with the sweat and blood of American soldiers, marines, sailors and airmen.
So, take a minute today and set down the watermelon wedge or the bottle of beer and remember that there are men and women, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, parents, grandparents, family, friends and loved ones who have made the conscious decision to protect those freedoms that you are enjoying today and every day in America. Many are far from home, doing what needs to be done, and they don’t ask for anything more than for you to enjoy this day of rest, to eat another slice of watermelon for them, to drink a beer for them, and whatever you do, please don’t forget them because they will not forget you, for you, and our country, are the reason they are making the sacrifices they make today.
Today is Memorial Day. For most of the folks back home, they are enjoying a long weekend off from work or school. For some, this weekend marks the unofficial start to summer and they are at the lake or campground bringing in the warm weather by enjoying the outdoors. For others, they are riding their motorcycles through the streets of our nation's capital bringing awareness of Americans who have not returned home from combat overseas. Regardless of what you end up doing today, remember what Memorial Day is for. Today is a day to appreciate the freedom of being an American and enjoy the liberties that were bought with the sweat and blood of American soldiers, marines, sailors and airmen.
So, take a minute today and set down the watermelon wedge or the bottle of beer and remember that there are men and women, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, parents, grandparents, family, friends and loved ones who have made the conscious decision to protect those freedoms that you are enjoying today and every day in America. Many are far from home, doing what needs to be done, and they don’t ask for anything more than for you to enjoy this day of rest, to eat another slice of watermelon for them, to drink a beer for them, and whatever you do, please don’t forget them because they will not forget you, for you, and our country, are the reason they are making the sacrifices they make today.
26 May 2007
Could this be?
It looks like "big brother" has given us limited access to the internet blog sites. I better post a picture while I can.
This was a picture taken of me while waiting for one of the many air flights from Kuwait to Iraq. It's your typical "angry Asian" face. The date is wrong, but the emotion is real. I had played my PSP for about 2 hours straight and the face is the result of the pain from the onset of carpel tunnel syndrome. The hours I spend behind the keyboard and mouse here isn't helping matters much. I'm in desperate need for some ergo help.
If this photo works, I might be able to go in and add pics to my previous posts! Let's cross our fingers and hope for the best.
This was a picture taken of me while waiting for one of the many air flights from Kuwait to Iraq. It's your typical "angry Asian" face. The date is wrong, but the emotion is real. I had played my PSP for about 2 hours straight and the face is the result of the pain from the onset of carpel tunnel syndrome. The hours I spend behind the keyboard and mouse here isn't helping matters much. I'm in desperate need for some ergo help.
If this photo works, I might be able to go in and add pics to my previous posts! Let's cross our fingers and hope for the best.
Bedding - 5/25/07
Bedding - 5/25/07
I need to buy a lottery ticket. Not only have we been free of mortar
attacks in last 48 hours (well, at least free from serious barrages),
but good fortune has arrived in B-town for two straight days making me
the luckiest Asian IRR callback in my unit (did I mention that I'm the
only Asian call back in my unit?). Yesterday was the arrival of the
much missed "world traveling duffle bags" and today was the arrival of a
large box containing love from home, twin sized. My folks, the great
and wonderful parents that they are, sent me a memory foam mattress pad
to battle the sagging excuse for a bed that I've been racking on since
my arrival here. Now don't get me wrong, I'm happy to have a bed as
some soldiers are sleeping in the sand, on cots or in fetal positions on
the floor of a Bradley turret somewhere in the land of no A/C. I'm
grateful for an elevated sleeping surface with moderate padding, but if
it wasn't for the scorpions and spiders around here, my yellow butt
would be sleeping on the floor, especially since my sleeping bag arrived
with my duffles. This is because the springs of my current mattress
jabbed me in the side as I slept, not to mention it gave about as much
support to my back as an oversized halter top would give to... well, you
know. Anyway, I'm happy as a clam at the prospect of a good night's
sleep. I'm not really sure what that means except for the fact that
mollusks who live under the surface of tranquil waters must be pretty
content creatures.
The directions say to open the vacuum packing and let it rise and "air
out" for 24-48 hours because it might have a chemical smell to it.
However, I'm throwing caution to the wind and am going to lay her down
on the bed tonight and let her take me to dream land in a way that only
her "engineered for astronaut" technology can. I'm a rebel like that!
And yes, mattress pads, like soap, are female too.
Interesting fact of the day: You spend almost a third of your life
sleeping. That's averaging about 8 hours of sleep a night. Now if I
could just increase the number of hours I sleep here during my
deployment to 12 hours a night, then the deployment will only be half as
long! Thank goodness I've got a comfy mattress pad to try that theory
out! Thanks mom and dad!
I need to buy a lottery ticket. Not only have we been free of mortar
attacks in last 48 hours (well, at least free from serious barrages),
but good fortune has arrived in B-town for two straight days making me
the luckiest Asian IRR callback in my unit (did I mention that I'm the
only Asian call back in my unit?). Yesterday was the arrival of the
much missed "world traveling duffle bags" and today was the arrival of a
large box containing love from home, twin sized. My folks, the great
and wonderful parents that they are, sent me a memory foam mattress pad
to battle the sagging excuse for a bed that I've been racking on since
my arrival here. Now don't get me wrong, I'm happy to have a bed as
some soldiers are sleeping in the sand, on cots or in fetal positions on
the floor of a Bradley turret somewhere in the land of no A/C. I'm
grateful for an elevated sleeping surface with moderate padding, but if
it wasn't for the scorpions and spiders around here, my yellow butt
would be sleeping on the floor, especially since my sleeping bag arrived
with my duffles. This is because the springs of my current mattress
jabbed me in the side as I slept, not to mention it gave about as much
support to my back as an oversized halter top would give to... well, you
know. Anyway, I'm happy as a clam at the prospect of a good night's
sleep. I'm not really sure what that means except for the fact that
mollusks who live under the surface of tranquil waters must be pretty
content creatures.
The directions say to open the vacuum packing and let it rise and "air
out" for 24-48 hours because it might have a chemical smell to it.
However, I'm throwing caution to the wind and am going to lay her down
on the bed tonight and let her take me to dream land in a way that only
her "engineered for astronaut" technology can. I'm a rebel like that!
And yes, mattress pads, like soap, are female too.
Interesting fact of the day: You spend almost a third of your life
sleeping. That's averaging about 8 hours of sleep a night. Now if I
could just increase the number of hours I sleep here during my
deployment to 12 hours a night, then the deployment will only be half as
long! Thank goodness I've got a comfy mattress pad to try that theory
out! Thanks mom and dad!
Lost and Found - 5/24/07
Lost and Found - 5/24/07
The bags are here! I read the email this morning at work that told of
the place to pick them up and didn't believe it. I showed up at the
appropriate time to get the bags out of the connex (cargo container
unit) and didn't believe it. I stood in a work line shuffling bags out
of a hot and dusty freight box car for almost an hour and STILL didn't
believe it. It wasn't until I was standing next to my 4 long lost bags
that I actually allowed myself a small grin of excitement. Now, as they
are nestled under the confines of my warping bed, I am debating about
digging the keys out of my back pack to unlock the travel locks secured
to each hasp thus allowing me access to all my worldly possessions, or
at least all that I own on this side of the world. I have decided to
hold off for a few more days as the rumor mill states that there still
exists a small chance that we will get moved into our permanent rooms in
the near future. The Room Fairy has graced some more fortunate than I
(Brendan and Kevin for starters) with rooms of their very own and I
anxiously await the scrap of paper taped to the dirty wooden door that
there is a room of my very own out there, somewhere. Until that day, I
will refrain from opening my bags, not because I don't long to reveal
their hidden contents that I've lived without for the better part of a
month, but because I don't want to repack these things again when I
move. What can I say? The heat has made me lazy.
Interesting fact of the day: A bar of Ivory soap will last exactly 1
month if used every day for a shower. I know this because the bar I
have has lasted 28 days and it only has about 2 more showers left in her
before she turns into a pile of white mush in the soap dish. Yes, I am
happy that my resupply is here. And yes, bars of soap are of the female
gender.
The bags are here! I read the email this morning at work that told of
the place to pick them up and didn't believe it. I showed up at the
appropriate time to get the bags out of the connex (cargo container
unit) and didn't believe it. I stood in a work line shuffling bags out
of a hot and dusty freight box car for almost an hour and STILL didn't
believe it. It wasn't until I was standing next to my 4 long lost bags
that I actually allowed myself a small grin of excitement. Now, as they
are nestled under the confines of my warping bed, I am debating about
digging the keys out of my back pack to unlock the travel locks secured
to each hasp thus allowing me access to all my worldly possessions, or
at least all that I own on this side of the world. I have decided to
hold off for a few more days as the rumor mill states that there still
exists a small chance that we will get moved into our permanent rooms in
the near future. The Room Fairy has graced some more fortunate than I
(Brendan and Kevin for starters) with rooms of their very own and I
anxiously await the scrap of paper taped to the dirty wooden door that
there is a room of my very own out there, somewhere. Until that day, I
will refrain from opening my bags, not because I don't long to reveal
their hidden contents that I've lived without for the better part of a
month, but because I don't want to repack these things again when I
move. What can I say? The heat has made me lazy.
Interesting fact of the day: A bar of Ivory soap will last exactly 1
month if used every day for a shower. I know this because the bar I
have has lasted 28 days and it only has about 2 more showers left in her
before she turns into a pile of white mush in the soap dish. Yes, I am
happy that my resupply is here. And yes, bars of soap are of the female
gender.
24 May 2007
Returned 5/24/07
Returned 5/24/07
So, after a whole mess of traveling, and some crazy stories to tell, I'm
back driving the computer at my desk at work. I just posted some of the
stuff I wrote while I was gone, although I was too tired to finish the
rest of my miandering thoughts. I didn't return to the hooch until
3:30am last night. I felt bad for my hooch mate after stumbling in the
dark like a three legged ox, but turns out that he didn't get back until
1:30am from his own travels. Spent a lot of time at BIAP where I
expected to see Brendan still stuck there, waiting for transportation
back. He was no where to be found because he returned already from his
mis-adventures. Debriefing of our trips will be discussed over
sandwiches at lunch with Kevin.
Wish I could post pictures. They say that they will have wireless
access at the hooches that won't be regulated by Uncle Sam in the next
few weeks. There is also a rumor that our bags are here and we have to
get them tonight after work. Its strange how so much can happen in just
two short days. I'll post pics when I can of Basrah. It was an...
interesting place to visit. I'll leave it at that.
I'm not quite sure how I can have 40 email messages to sort through from
being gone just two short days, but I best start cracking.
Interesting fact of the day: Soda cans (or pop cans for my Michigander
brethren) have pull tabs over here. I think the US got rid of them a
long time ago for safety reasons. I guess little kids getting tentnus
from stepping on pull tabs is the least of Iraqi concerns.
** Edit **
Here are some pictures:
So, after a whole mess of traveling, and some crazy stories to tell, I'm
back driving the computer at my desk at work. I just posted some of the
stuff I wrote while I was gone, although I was too tired to finish the
rest of my miandering thoughts. I didn't return to the hooch until
3:30am last night. I felt bad for my hooch mate after stumbling in the
dark like a three legged ox, but turns out that he didn't get back until
1:30am from his own travels. Spent a lot of time at BIAP where I
expected to see Brendan still stuck there, waiting for transportation
back. He was no where to be found because he returned already from his
mis-adventures. Debriefing of our trips will be discussed over
sandwiches at lunch with Kevin.
Wish I could post pictures. They say that they will have wireless
access at the hooches that won't be regulated by Uncle Sam in the next
few weeks. There is also a rumor that our bags are here and we have to
get them tonight after work. Its strange how so much can happen in just
two short days. I'll post pics when I can of Basrah. It was an...
interesting place to visit. I'll leave it at that.
I'm not quite sure how I can have 40 email messages to sort through from
being gone just two short days, but I best start cracking.
Interesting fact of the day: Soda cans (or pop cans for my Michigander
brethren) have pull tabs over here. I think the US got rid of them a
long time ago for safety reasons. I guess little kids getting tentnus
from stepping on pull tabs is the least of Iraqi concerns.
** Edit **
Here are some pictures:
British Merlin Helicopter we rode in
The entire Iraqi Navy (seriously)
Travel 5/22/07
Travel 5/22/2007
.
.
Mission to head south. Only way to go is by helo and cargo plane.
Brits are running this one so we skip some unnecessary procedures.
Night flight, normal for most flights outside of the IZ now due to
choppers being hit. Walk to LZ from my hooch with my boss. Helmet,
body armor, rifle and assault pack on my persons. IBA is heavier due to
carrying basic load plus of ammo. Walk is long. Waiting area at LZ is
crowded. Missions going in and out crowd area near briefing trailer by
converted parking lot. Soldiers and civilians pass one another, barely
visible in the dim light. Traveling with a small group. Important
people in our numbers that don't wear the uniform. This is not their
first chopper ride, but their faces show apprehension. The Brits fly
Pumas. Smaller than our Blackhawks, but versatile. We wait on the side
of the tarmac in darkness. Briefing says that they are breaking us up
into 3 different birds. We split up accordingly and watch other helos
come in and pick up their passengers. A Russian made HIP, some small
Defenders and a sortie of Blackhawks. The helos come in low and with
lights out. Pilots fly with goggles that allow them to see what we
can't. Rotor wash pushes us and our bags around like tumbleweeds.
Dusty and hot. Like being hit by a giant hair dryer. Loud, but sound
muffled by yellow foamy earplugs. Pumas sound different than American
helos. They are heard before they are seen. First one down, then
number two. Bird number one is mine. I escort my half of team to
Puma's door. Gunner/crew chief is a young Brit, no more than 19 or 20.
Can only see his eyes from back glow of night vision goggles on his
helmet. Takes our bags and stows them in back. Helps civilians first,
then soldiers. Don't spend a lot of time on the ground. Security
conscious. Take off. Glow from the Embassy lights below fall away, but
not that far. Low flight path. Not a leisure flight. Combat flying
banks us left and right, up and down. Suddenly, Puma banking hard to
right. Staring at ground below from my seat. Flash! Pop! Flares
launch from either side of the open door. Someone in back yelps.
Gunner is calm. Normal procedures to avoid ground fire. More hard
turns. Blades dig into the air with resounding thuds. Blackness ahead
disrupted by blue runway lights on horizon. Within minutes, a smooth
landing denotes first leg of mission complete. Airport is busy. Air
punctuated by sounds of jet turbines and chopper blades. Even at this
hour, uniformed personnel with reflective belts scurry about. Moved to
a tent to wait. Moved to another tent, and then another. Time to move
to airplane. Hercules, but British version. Rotors have 6 blades
instead of 4. Can carry 64 soldiers. We have less. Passengers are
mostly British soldiers. A few civilians being taxied to their next
destination. Single file to the ramp. Cargo net seats. Cramped.
Neighbor has bad BO. Trip will be an hour or so. Helmet and armor push
me down into the netting. Can't feel my rear. Smooth take off. Trying
to find comfortable position to sleep. Surrender to a restless flight.
Land at Basrah. Brit controlled. Single file to awaiting busses.
Can't take helmet off. Soldier escort informs us that mortars are
landing all around. Be careful. Terminal is a tent. Bags are
recovered. Movement by Land Rover to living area. Fort is guarded.
Perimeter is in sight, which means that we are very close to Red Zone.
Tents are dark, surrounded by earthen barriers. Hescos. It's tomorrow
already. Watch reads 3:30am. Sleeping soldiers in my tent. Find an
empty cot and remove my gear. Tired and hot, but feel much better now
without my suit of armor weighing me down. Cot is a welcome feeling.
Much better than the bed at the hooch. Above the sound of snores, sleep
is calling me. Lay down, but not for long. Sirens alert of incoming.
Twice. Not a restful night. Busy day ahead. Need to find food.
.
Interesting fact of the day: Brits say "cheers" instead of thank you.
I thought that was just in the movies.
.
.
Mission to head south. Only way to go is by helo and cargo plane.
Brits are running this one so we skip some unnecessary procedures.
Night flight, normal for most flights outside of the IZ now due to
choppers being hit. Walk to LZ from my hooch with my boss. Helmet,
body armor, rifle and assault pack on my persons. IBA is heavier due to
carrying basic load plus of ammo. Walk is long. Waiting area at LZ is
crowded. Missions going in and out crowd area near briefing trailer by
converted parking lot. Soldiers and civilians pass one another, barely
visible in the dim light. Traveling with a small group. Important
people in our numbers that don't wear the uniform. This is not their
first chopper ride, but their faces show apprehension. The Brits fly
Pumas. Smaller than our Blackhawks, but versatile. We wait on the side
of the tarmac in darkness. Briefing says that they are breaking us up
into 3 different birds. We split up accordingly and watch other helos
come in and pick up their passengers. A Russian made HIP, some small
Defenders and a sortie of Blackhawks. The helos come in low and with
lights out. Pilots fly with goggles that allow them to see what we
can't. Rotor wash pushes us and our bags around like tumbleweeds.
Dusty and hot. Like being hit by a giant hair dryer. Loud, but sound
muffled by yellow foamy earplugs. Pumas sound different than American
helos. They are heard before they are seen. First one down, then
number two. Bird number one is mine. I escort my half of team to
Puma's door. Gunner/crew chief is a young Brit, no more than 19 or 20.
Can only see his eyes from back glow of night vision goggles on his
helmet. Takes our bags and stows them in back. Helps civilians first,
then soldiers. Don't spend a lot of time on the ground. Security
conscious. Take off. Glow from the Embassy lights below fall away, but
not that far. Low flight path. Not a leisure flight. Combat flying
banks us left and right, up and down. Suddenly, Puma banking hard to
right. Staring at ground below from my seat. Flash! Pop! Flares
launch from either side of the open door. Someone in back yelps.
Gunner is calm. Normal procedures to avoid ground fire. More hard
turns. Blades dig into the air with resounding thuds. Blackness ahead
disrupted by blue runway lights on horizon. Within minutes, a smooth
landing denotes first leg of mission complete. Airport is busy. Air
punctuated by sounds of jet turbines and chopper blades. Even at this
hour, uniformed personnel with reflective belts scurry about. Moved to
a tent to wait. Moved to another tent, and then another. Time to move
to airplane. Hercules, but British version. Rotors have 6 blades
instead of 4. Can carry 64 soldiers. We have less. Passengers are
mostly British soldiers. A few civilians being taxied to their next
destination. Single file to the ramp. Cargo net seats. Cramped.
Neighbor has bad BO. Trip will be an hour or so. Helmet and armor push
me down into the netting. Can't feel my rear. Smooth take off. Trying
to find comfortable position to sleep. Surrender to a restless flight.
Land at Basrah. Brit controlled. Single file to awaiting busses.
Can't take helmet off. Soldier escort informs us that mortars are
landing all around. Be careful. Terminal is a tent. Bags are
recovered. Movement by Land Rover to living area. Fort is guarded.
Perimeter is in sight, which means that we are very close to Red Zone.
Tents are dark, surrounded by earthen barriers. Hescos. It's tomorrow
already. Watch reads 3:30am. Sleeping soldiers in my tent. Find an
empty cot and remove my gear. Tired and hot, but feel much better now
without my suit of armor weighing me down. Cot is a welcome feeling.
Much better than the bed at the hooch. Above the sound of snores, sleep
is calling me. Lay down, but not for long. Sirens alert of incoming.
Twice. Not a restful night. Busy day ahead. Need to find food.
.
Interesting fact of the day: Brits say "cheers" instead of thank you.
I thought that was just in the movies.
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