The Costs of Christmas

I made my first Christmas at home in 4 years. I took a 7 day LWOP (Leave With Out Pay) and grabbed a frequent flyer ticket for my trip home. What a mess. Taji to Baghdad by helicopter. Dubai-Munich-Chicago-Austin by Lufthansa and United. I had good luck all the way over as I had aisle seats with an empty middle seat all the way. In Chicago they have a special line in customs for military so you are whisked through about twice as fast as everyone else. The trip back was another story altogether but I will cover that another time.

The long trip home was worth it as I got to see my 4 year old son run around looking at the bounty that Santa bestowed upon him. My wife thinks that I had more fun than him putting together all the Thomas the Engine train tracks and setting up a rail road.

Its funny how play prepares us for life. These are his first lessons in systems engineering. Tracks must be connected and set properly. Routes must be planned and laid out correctly. This means moving furniture if need be or rolling up throw rugs which are in the way. Trains must be prepared and fueled (AA Batteries). Environmental issues must be dealt with. That meant banishing the dog as he keep kicking the track. Maybe that was a Vector Control issue; either way he was a pest about it.

He also had to make value added choices. "Do I play with Thomas or my new basketball hoop?" "Do I play alone or ask Daddy to play?" "Who is better at tasks I need help with, Mommy or Daddy?" "Do I eat or play?" "Why is Daddy's hair sticking out in 500 directions and did I have anything to do with it?"

While he had to make these decisions I was struggling with my own internal costs. Even though I knew I had missed too many Christmases already and that it was my turn to be at home I was still feeling a bit guilty as I left my friends, brothers, and troopers back in Iraq. No matter how many times I go home I never feel like I am totally there. Some little part of me is still in Iraq just as some part of me is always at home when I am in Iraq. Its hard to explain but it is a mental and psychological cost of the war. Those of us making the efforts here will never be the same. My Christmases will never be the same. I will always think of my Christmases in Bosnia and here in Iraq. I will think of the massive party at BIAP the first year, the fizzled out party at Taji last year and getting home this year. Part of the cost of Christmas for me is knowing that I will miss some more before it is over. I am willing to pay this cost so that my son does not have to. If I can make a difference by spending holidays in the Sand Box to prevent him from having to then the cost is worth it.

I guess I ramble but I just want to get across that there is more than monetary cost at Christmas. What should be a gathering of love and sharing always becomes a stress filled battle to make everything "perfect." Just ask my wife. She almost went into meltdown about the timing of the meal. Our family tradition is to eat a hearty breakfast and then have a feast around 14:00. The rest of the day and evening is for snacking on leftovers. Her family does a Christmas dinner. Since my dad had to go back to his home Christmas afternoon she was going to prepare two dinners. It took a lot to finally hammer home to her that she was doing this to herself and that two complete dinners was ridiculous. She finally caved and made the 14:00 meal at a real time of 15:00. Dinner was awesome though. Prime Rib and Dark Star Zinfandel followed by a full bottle of Tawny Port and cigars.

Mys sister's new boyfriend was playing games with her and we didn't know if he would show up. My step mother got wasted and spent the day in bed. My father in law got into the Scotch bottle in mid afternoon and was in full form by early evening. The dog, my son, and I played with the trains and attempted to be the happy ones. Ah yes, there is nothing like having all the family around for the holidays.

The Shitty Ribbon Cutting

Today we had a special event. We built a pumping station for sewage over the course of a few months and it was opened today. It was a big challenge and we were quite proud even though it was something as simple as a pump station. The challenges in this theater to just conduct normal construction are extreme.

It may seem bizarre to have a ribbon cutting ceremony for a sewage station but we try and put some celebration in every event here. I sat out of the lime light on this one. Big Lou (That's him in the Hawaiian shirt) took the credit for this one and was front and center with the support troops who supported the effort. These are some of Minnesota's finest. They can't wait to get back and do some ice fishing and beer drinking.

I'm Back!

I did not give up blogging, I just could not get through the firewall that has been set up here. I don't blog because I "have to". I don't live and breathe it but it does bother me that it is so hard to get through as I know a lot of folks check here from time to time.

Elections here in Iraq are coming and with that is the usual flurry of activity and preparation. Unlike a lot of other bloggers I realize that Haji reads these things and I am not giving away anything he can use against us. While I can't go into specifics I can state that if Haji tries anything he may get punched in the nose.

The weather got cool enough for light jackets and now we are back to shirt sleeves. I get email updates from my favorite ski resorts and see all the groovy powder out there but it just seems unreal since we are in this temperate season. An indoor ski slope was recently opened in Dubai so I may try and catch some runs when I go through there the next time. Bad skiing is still better than working!

Speaking of Dubai, I had to go there three weeks ago for some meetings. What a nightmare! The company made my reservations for the wrong dates and when I arrived I had no hotel room. There was a huge trade show in town and there were just no rooms available anywhere. The hotel (Movenpick) tried to find me another room and after about 2 hours they found me a basement room in a flophouse in Bur Dubai.

I stayed one night and then checked out the following morning. Upon arriving at the meetings with all my luggage I got the personnel to start working on finding me a room. Low and behold, they found me a room at....you guessed it....the MOVENPICK! Seems they actually keep one room back just in case a member of the royal family drops in. When I got there in the evening they were just falling all over themselves to apologize and explain to me how they did not know "who I was" and other crap like that. I took their apologies and the key and checked in to the over $400.00 per night room.

It was palatial. It was one of the nicest rooms I have ever stayed in (Le Meridein in Budapest is #1). It is huge with a nice big walk in shower and lots of amenities including a private elevator to that floor and a concierge desk on the floor. Not that I used any of that. I just slept and ordered room service.

I leave again on the 19th for my first Christmas home on 4 years. I have missed 3 in a row. I'm not missing any more. They can ki$$ my big white A$$. I will try and get some more in now that I know how to get around this insidious firewall.

The photo was taken about last February at the Gold Souk in Dubai. Look at this gaudy crap!

Long Time no hear!

I am back in sunny Southern California. I WISH! I am back in Iraq but the weather is like SoCal right now. Cool in the day and nippy at night. I am glad and sad to be back all at the same time. I missed the people here but I damn sure did not miss the place. After 3 years deployed and two here I am getting a little weary. Maybe the fact that I get another 7 day break at Christmas will solve some of it. It will be my first Christmas home in 4 years.

My R&R was great. 3 days in Dubai (2 days too many) followed by 9 days in Jamaica (2 days too many) with Carren and Tanner and finished up with 3 days in Cambridge, England (2 days too short). Expensive as hell but much needed.

We threaded the needle on weather. We had two days of torrential rain in Jamaica followed by 7 days of glorious sunshine. We left just before the fringes of Hurricane Wilma came along. Cambridge was brilliant clear blue skies. Perfect for the air show I attended at Duxford.

I really wish there was some way to figure out how Carren could take these three day jaunts in Europe that I take on the way back. I enjoy them and need the time change break but I get lonely on them as I usually don't know anyone where I am going. I was fortunate this time that my buddy Dave was in a place called Sudbury visiting some of his friends. We spent one evening together as he was in London every day. I have done the London thing quite a bit and unless I am guiding Carren and Tanner around I really have no desire to hang out there. I have been there 9 times already.

I will write more later but just wanted everyone to know that I am back. I have attached a photo of me from a river punt on the Cam river. It was just beautiful and very relaxing.

8 days and a wake up...Maybe

I am a single digit midget from leaving here for R&R. I count 8 days and a wake up but there may be a little hitch as I may have to go to another site for a briefing before I leave. We will see. I am ready too. The fact that I have so much less stress than last year has made me soooooo much calmer but I still am chomping at the bit to get away for a while.

Carren and T-Man are ready too. She is doing her usual planning and packing (How she gets that much in a bag is beyond me) and T-Man is telling Knock-Knock jokes and asking about the Hot Tub. He really liked the Hot Tub on the cruise ship and was disappointed we were not going on it again until he found out that we have a Hot Tub at the resort in Jamaica.

I have not planned like I usually do. Part of it is because every place I am going I have been before. Dubai, Jamaica, and the UK. I will spend a couple of days in Dubai just drinking beer and unwinding and the fly to meet Carren and the boy in Miami. We continue from there to Negril for 7 days and then 2 days in Mo'Bay. I leave there for the UK where I will spend 3 days in Cambridge. I am going bicycle riding and to attend the last air show of the season at Duxford.

When I called American Airlines about us all sitting together on the Miami-Mo'Bay flight the lady was most helpful. She automatically upgraded us to First Class and the way she did it was to change T-Man to a Gold level frequent flier. I have been Gold on American for a while but she made him Gold and Carren remains regular. He is probably the only 4 year old Gold level member in their system. I can't wait to check him in.

I also rejoined the AA Admirals Club for us all. It is not cheap but we all have club privileges at airports world wide. When you fly like we do that is huge. The airport at DFW, Miami, and London all have kids rooms, internet, bars, showers, leather chairs, etc. It just takes some of the pain out of travel. Plus you have a private check in desk so you don't have to stand at the gate waiting. If you travel international I highly recommend that you look into joining a club.

Salt Lick to the Rescue!!!!!!!!

The Salt Lick is a famous Texas BBQ place located just outside Austin, Texas. It has wonderful BBQ and terrific sauce. I contacted the owners and while they could not send us any BBQ they were kind enough to send a case of sauce. We had a big ole Texas style cookout and even invited some Texas National Guard troops to the cookout. Every bit of this sauce was either soaked into meat or sopped up with bread. This small gesture by the owners will cause years of good will with all the Texans who work, live, and fight here. Thank you Salt Lick!

Some times the little things from home go a long, long way. If any of the readers know people over here they should send them some small taste of home. I'm going after pickled okra next!

It's not my fault!

Every so often one of the crew is tagged as the "It's You Fault" person for the day. It does not matter what happens, they are at fault. If someone gets left off of a manifest, if lunch is late, if there is a flat tire, if it is hot, it is their fault. This joke goes around and sometimes is pretty elaborate.

One day I woke up and walked outside and started finding fliers posted all over stating that this was was my "fault" day. When I went in the office I found this poster up on the wall. They had taken a photo of me with a slurpee and changed it to look like a cigarette. It was funny except for the cigarette part. I have not smoked a cigarette for years!

I have some pretty talented folks in my shop but on this day I don't think they were busy enough.

I wish I took photos this good

This shot was taken by one of the Army photogs here on post. It is just a beautiful shot showing one of the AH-64s at sunset. I love the color play with the fade from yellow to red and the stark sihlouette of this non-nonsense killing machine. I admire these chopper jocks and have the greatest respect for them. I always though that fighter pilots were the end all of aviation unitl I started watching these guys. I know I promised more day to day "our life" photos but this one was just too good to pass up.

Labor Day in Iraq

Good Grub! This photo was taken on Labor Day. As you can see, we don't go hungry around here. In fact we joke that there are only three things to look forward to around here and they are breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

The cooks did a great job and made up a mess of fried chicken, ribs, collard greens, pinto beans, dressing, corn on the cob, cornbread, etc. Even though they are mostly from India they have learned to cook the American way and it took a few lashings but they save the curry and cloves for Indian food.

I am going to try and make some postings showing life around here. Everyone has seen all the sexy stuff like helicopters and tanks so I will try and go for the slice of life concept.

The Places I Have Been

A lot of people ask me how many countries I have been to. So far I have been to 30. They are, in order of first visits:

USA
Canada
Mexico
UK
Bahrain
Saudi Arabia
Qatar
Cyprus
Somalia
Egypt
Netherlands
France
Belgium
Luxembourg
Germany
Monaco
Jamaica
Cayman Islands
Russia
Croatia
Bosnia
Hungary
Italy
Vatican City
Greece
Kuwait
Iraq
UAE
Switzerland
Belize

Hurricanes and Politics

We have several people here who were directly affected by the hurricane in NO. A female flew home because her son was missing. One of our supervisors did not hear from his daughter for 3 days. One of the other women's families lost every house in the family. I am grateful that I was not directly affected and thankful that I am not there now. I am also thankful that I have my hands full here and am not assigned to that mess. I'm not hard hearted, I am just tired of being in the middle of an effort that becomes mired in politics and rhetoric as I see happening in the Big Easy. The only good thing I can see out of this is that we don't have to listen to Cindy Sheehan for a while.

I could pontificate but my friend David has done a much better job than I could on this subject. I invite you to read his blog on this at http://davesnothere.blogs.com/davesnothere/

Don't walk on my grave

One of the Marine mothers who is becoming vocal in support of the war stated that her son told her that if he died he did not want her to be another Cindy Sheehan. He told her, "Don't walk on my grave." He feels like 99% of us over here do. We still believe in the mission and can see the small daily changes. We wonder why our own media wants so badly to make this all go wrong.

I still feel sorry for Cindy Sheehan that she lost her son. I don't know how I would feel if Tanner were killed in a war but knowing what the stakes are here leads me to believe that even though I would be heart broken I would still understand that freedom is not free and that we continue to pay for the right to protest, have free speech, vote, own a weapon, etc.

Casey Sheehan volunteered to join the Army. He RE-ENLISTED too. He volunteered for the mission in which he was killed. He volunteered to pick up his rifle and try to help rescue comrades who were under fire. Should he have just said no? He could have when he signed up, when he signed again, or before the mission. He did not. He said YES three times. He knew what was happening, we all do but he knew he was going in harms way.

His mother soils his memory and the sacrifices of all the other parents who have lost their children by her incessant whining and pandering to the far left. The left has grabbed this straw and are using her. In her blog she swooned with star worship because Joan Baez came and sang at her mosh pit of a camp. That is the very same Joan Baez who was against the Vietnam war too.

Regardless what you hear, this is NOT Vietnam. In Vietnam you had a popularly supported uprising against an entrenched and very corrupt dictatorship. It was supported by more than 60% of the populace and funded by outside governments (Remember Mao, remember the USSR?). It pitted a standing army plus a very well organized guerrilla group of indiginous persons who sought self govenerment of their choice.

This is a conflict of deposed dictatorship lackeys who want their power back. They were and are a minority in their own country and are split along religious lines. It has foreign zealots who come in and kill the locals who just want to be left alone. It has a freely elected government that is struggling to stay afloat amidst the carnage caused by these unpopular and not well supported entities. They kill each other at times and wnat nothing more than all out civil war.

The Vietnamese did not fight for this or like this. This is NOT Vietnam. So; Joan Baez, Cindy Sheehan, Kim Basinger, Alec Baldwin, Sean Penn, and all you other leftists need to understand the real issues, the real fight, and the real danger here. What gets to me most of all is that every time we get in a protracted fight the left wants to remember Vietnam. I prefer to think of something much more recent. I think about 9-11. Where were all these so called experts then? Where was their outrage? Are they going to blame that on Bush and Cheney too?

When I have Time

I was chastised by a friend the other day because I don't post every single day. I don't because sometimes I just don't have time. Sometimes I am too tired. Sometimes I just don't have anything to say. I get worn down. 12 hours a day with no days off for 4 months grinds you to where you are mentally whipped and the last thing you want to do is type some profound or interesting tid bits for everyone to read. Don't misunderstand me, I love letting everyone know what is going on with me but I just don't feel like it is a duty to post everyday.

Today is slow though and I have some time. It is not always like that. I find myself saying the same thing my dad used to tell me. I would ask if we could do something and he would say, "When I have time." He almost never had the time and it still affects us to this day. I caught myself telling a buddy of mine that today and realized that it was a lame ass excuse for really wanting to say, "Man, I am tired and just don't want to bother with this right now."

I know that sometimes Carren can hear it in my voice. We talk a lot (Thank God for the satellite link to CONUS) but most of the time it is in the morning for her and in the late afternoon for me. I am tired. I want to talk and I don't want to talk. It is important to talk. I have to shift gears. I have learned to stop what I am doing and listen. I am just too tired to multi task. I never want her to feel like I don't want to talk but there are times when I am just worn out. I never want to tell her that I don't have time. I never want to tell T-Man that either. Probably the biggest reason for me to be here is that I want to be able to be at home and not be on the road all the time like I have been the last 5 years.

Maybe I will be able to coach T-Ball or Pee Wee football. Maybe I will be a Cub Scout leader or a Sunday School teacher. I don't know but I will definitely make the time.

R&R Plans

One thing about this life is that it gives you the opportunity to have some great vacations. We (Carren, Tanner, and I) are planning our third trip to Jamaica in as many years. We are comfotable there. Noel Coward was the one who called it "Dr. Jamaica" for the sense of healing he got from the place. Sure it has crime and poverty but so does anyplace in the world except maybe Dubai. The trick is avoiding the areas where this exists. Jamaica relies on tourism so they take pains to keep the tourist areas safe.

We are trying a different Beaches resort. This time we will go to Sandy Bay. It is a much smaller resort than the last one we stayed at outside of Ocho Rios. We will stay there for 7 days and then stay in Montego Bay proper for 2 more days. Beaches is owned by Sandals and it is a first rate experience. They really take care of everything and we love the all inclusive, no tipping policy. They have all the Sesame Street stuff for the Little Guy so he in entertained while we scuba, snorkel, etc. We loved the cruise but it was all about planning around a feeding schedule wheras the beach thing is planning around a drinking schedule.

I will start by having 2 days in Dubai to drink and drown and then fly to Jamaica. It's an easy route as there are nonstops to London and Air Jamaica flies non stop to MoBay. After the 9 days in Jamaica I will go to London and stay in the UK for 4 days, taking in the last air show of the year in Duxford. Duxford is just outside of Cambridge and is only 90 minutes away from London by train.

The Dubai stop is try and make up for the last one. We scheduled to stay in Dubai for 2 days and did not get to because we were trapped in Baghdad in a sand storm. We had 19 hours in Dubai and it was a miserable time really as we were all so tired and hot. Maybe this time we will finally get a chance to do the Desert Safari or hit Wild Wadi water park.

My buddy Dave is traveling with me through Dubai and then he is just going straight to England. He has an old girlfriend in Sudbury which is also close to Cambridge. He will stay there and we will link up on my arrival. Pubs, Fish and Chippy shoppes, and WWII airplanes. It doesn't get much better than that.

An Open Letter To Cindy Sheehan

I took the liberty of copying this open letter from Mohammed at "Iraq The Model". He tells the misguided Ms. Sheehan what the war in Iraq is all about much better than I ever could. I know she grieves but she truly does not understand that what she does is so damaging as to make her son's life and sacrifices all in vain. She met the President but demands more. He cannot bring her son back. She is being used as a pawn by those who would do anything to damage the effort here to meet their own short sighted political goals. Right now she is the #1 Poster Child for Al'Zarqawi and his kind. They want to see a lot more Cindy Sheehans.

IRAQ THE MODEL
Friday, August 12, 2005
A message to Cindy Sheehan
I realize how tragic your loss is and I know how much pain there is crushing your heart and I know the darkness that suddenly came to wrap your life and wipe away your dreams and I do feel the heat of your tears that won't dry until you find the answers to your question; why you lost your loved one?I have heard your story and I understand that you have the full right to ask people to stand by your side and support your cause. At the beginning I told myself, this is yet another woman who lost a piece of her heart and the questions of war, peace and why are killing her everyday.

To be frank to you the first thing I thought of was like "why should I listen or care to answer when there are thousands of other women in America, Iraq and Afghanistan who lost a son or a husband or a brother…”But today I was looking at your picture and I saw in your eyes a persistence, a great pain and a torturing question; why?I know how you feel Cindy, I lived among the same pains for 35 years but worse than that was the fear from losing our loved ones at any moment. Even while I'm writing these words to you there are feelings of fear, stress, and sadness that interrupt our lives all the time but in spite of all that I'm sticking hard to hope which if I didn't have I would have died years ago.

Ma'am, we asked for your nation's help and we asked you to stand with us in our war and your nation's act was (and still is) an act of ultimate courage and unmatched sense of humanity.Our request is justified, death was our daily bread and a million Iraqi mothers were expecting death to knock on their doors at any second to claim someone from their families.Your face doesn't look strange to me at all; I see it everyday on endless numbers of Iraqi women who were struck by losses like yours.Our fellow country men and women were buried alive, cut to pieces and thrown in acid pools and some were fed to the wild dogs while those who were lucky enough ran away to live like strangers and the Iraqi mother was left to grieve one son buried in an unfound grave and another one living far away who she might not get to see again.We did nothing to deserve all that suffering, well except for a dream we had; a dream of living like normal people do.

We cried out of joy the day your son and his comrades freed us from the hands of the devil and we went to the streets not believing that the nightmare is over.We practiced our freedom first by kicking and burning the statues and portraits of the hateful idol who stole 35 years from the life of a nation.For the first time air smelled that beautiful, that was the smell of freedom.The mothers went to break the bars of cells looking for the ones they lost 5, 12 or 20 years ago and other women went to dig the land with their bare hand searching for a few bones they can hold in their arms after they couldn't hold them when they belonged to a living person.I recall seeing a woman on TV two years ago, she was digging through the dirt with her hands. There was no definite grave in there as the whole place was one large grave but she seemed willing to dig the whole place looking for her two brothers who disappeared from earth 24 years ago when they were dragged from their colleges to a chamber of hell.Her tears mixed with the dirt of the grave and there were journalists asking her about what her brothers did wrong and she was screaming "I don't know, I don't know. They were only college students. They didn't murder anyone, they didn't steal, and they didn't hurt anyone in their lives. All I want to know is the place of their grave".Why was this woman chosen to lose her dear ones? Why you? Why did a million women have to go through the same pain?We did not choose war for the sake of war itself and we didn't sacrifice a million lives for fun! We could've accepted our jailor and kept living in our chains for the rest of our lives but it's freedom ma'am.Freedom is not an American thing and it's not an Iraqi thing, it's what unites us as human beings. We refuse all kinds of restrictions and that's why we fought and still fighting everyday in spite of the swords in the hands of the cavemen who want us dead or slaves for their evil masters.

You are free to go and leave us alone but what am I going to tell your million sisters in Iraq? Should I ask them to leave Iraq too? Should I leave too? And what about the eight millions who walked through bombs to practice their freedom and vote? Should they leave this land too?Is it a cursed land that no one should live in? Why is it that we were chosen to live in all this pain, why me, why my people, why you?But I am not leaving this land because the bad guys are not going to leave us or you to live in peace. They are the same ones who flew the planes to kill your people in New York.I ask you in the name of God or whatever you believe in; do not waste your son's blood.We here have decided to avenge humanity, you and all the women who lost their loved ones.Take a look at our enemy Cindy, look closely at the hooded man holding the sword and if you think he's right then I will back off and support your call.We live in pain and grief everyday, every hour, every minute; all the horrors of the powers of darkness have been directed at us and I don't know exactly when am I going to feel safe again, maybe in a year, maybe two or even ten; I frankly don't know but I don't want to lose hope and faith.We are in need for every hand that can offer some help.

Please pray for us, I know that God listens to mothers' prayers and I call all the women on earth to pray with you for peace in this world.Your son sacrificed his life for a very noble cause…No, he sacrificed himself for the most precious value in this existence; that is freedom.His blood didn't go in vain; your son and our brethren are drawing a great example of selflessness.God bless his free soul and God bless the souls of his comrades who are fighting evil.God bless the souls of Iraqis who suffered and died for the sake of freedom.God bless all the freedom lovers on earth.
- posted by Mohammed @ 23:24

To read more try the blog at: http://iraqthemodel.blogspot.com/

A genuine American Hero

I am proud to know Butch Jacobs and even more proud to call him a friend. LTC (Now COL) Jacobs is a Southern Gentleman with the refined airs of the genteelness that still exists in places like South Carolina. Butch is a product of that state and that culture. He was our Mayor while in Iraq and I worked with him on an almost daily basis. He and I had many difficulties and hurdles to overcome but we managed to do so with out rancor even though conditions were harsh, we were under fire, and we had marginal support. We built a fine camp for our soldiers.

Butch is a Vietnam veteran, Gulf War veteran, and now an OIF veteran. He is a member of the South Carolina National Guard and is also a High School football coach. South Carolina and the USA should be proud that they produce men like COL Jacobs. He led his team of South Carolinians in a way that few can match. He did so with strength, humility, kindness, firmness, and care all at the same time. I took a lot of leadership lessons from him and he did not even know it. Of all the coins I have been awarded, his is the one I am most proud of.

How would you like to see this in your rear view window?

Say what you will about the Army but they have the most lethal helicopter fleet in the world. These Apaches can take out a tank from 3 miles away with a HellFire and they can take on any infantry or APCs with the 25mm chain gun on the chin. This one came in low over me when I happened to have my camera with me. He has some rockets in pods so he is out hunting for bear. I have gotten to know a lot of the pilots of these birds and they are all either crazy or fierce and some are both! They get right down in the middle of it and they will take any fire to protect the ground pounders. This is a weapons system worth the money we spend on it. The Apache is a beast!

Shamal Season is here!

There are times when it only seems like we are in barren areas and then there are times when we are reminded that we are in the middle of the desert. We have had a few sand storms but this was a true "Shamal" which came in. They are called Scirrocco in Northern Africa but it is the same thing. Hot, dry winds carrying lots and lots of sand and fine dust. The dust just gets everywhere and it even come through the air conditioning filters. It clogs up all your pores and makes some monster "Boogie Nose".

Visibility is limited to about 25 yards of clear vision and about 50 of cloudy vision. After that you can't see at all. I took this photo of a HUMMV that was only about 3 car lengths in front of us. As you can tell, it is not that visible. Everyone has on their lamps and driving is slowed considerately. Dust gets tracked everywhere and those who have sensitive respiratory systems have a hard time with it. Oh well, it comes with the job.

Good News from Long Beach

My wife gave me some great news today.

When we left California we left behind some dear friends and neighbors that we really miss. Our next door neighbors were the perfect family. Business owners, good looking, nice home, 2 kids, one dog. After we had been in Texas for a few months my wife called to talk to them. She was stunned to find out that the couple's oldest child Tyler had died of leukemia. I too was shocked. He was such a sweet little kid and only 6 years old. He was very shy and I have this clear memory of him coming to our house on Halloween dressed in his Blues Clue's costume. He was too shy to say "Trick or Treat". He would work in the yard with his daddy fetching tools and stuff. I guess that he is one of the reasons that I consented to trying to have children. I saw how he and his daddy were together and it was a far cry from my own relationship with my father. I wanted to do the same things with my own children.

When Tyler developed leukemia and died the family was shattered. They were emotionally crushed. Tyler's dad would sit in the dark and cry. The grandmother had a heart attack. Their business suffered and so on and so on. The recovery took a long, Long time and I don't think they have ever really gotten over it. How do you?

They have a daughter Kelly, who was born while we lived there and she is beautiful and worshipped her older brother. She too was profoundly affected by this tragedy. Every time I think about it I think about how much I am missing with my little guy. There are times I will never be able to replace with him.

When my wife called our ex-neighbors to tell them she was coming to CA this week to visit she heard a baby crying in the background. We did not know. They now have an 11 month old son that is named Jesse. He was named this by his older sister. When her brother was dying they contacted Make A Wish to tell them that Tyler's favorite TV show was Monster Garage with Jesse James (Sandra Bullock's Husband). Jesse came to visit Tyler. Kelly was so impressed by this that when her little brother was born she told everyone they were naming him Jesse because Jesse James came to see her brother Tyler.

There are some heroes in this world and some times they come in unusual ways and unusual guises. Here is a rough, tough celebrity who came to see a little boy. Some celebrities would have sent a picture or made a phone call but Jesse came to meet Tyler. I am now a fan of his.

Remembrance of things past

Was this just 5 weeks ago? It seems like 5 months. The days roll together in a seemingly never ending cycle. I get up, drink coffee, get ready, walk to my office, work 12 hours, eat three times, watch an hour of TV and go the bed. This is every...damn...day. The only thing that keeps me from chuking it in is knowing that my bride is strong and supports this. Not too much longer. Gotta get that new house built. Gotta get that youngster's college tuition put away. I can rest then. Sleep fast, sleep when you are dead.

Ok. Made it to Dubai. Two days late, hungry, cranky, and 20:00 but here none the less. We get our bags and waltz through customs. Since we have landed at the charter terminal and the customs folks know we have come from Iraq they don't search any of us. I don't know if this is because they think we are all stone killers or because they know there is nothing to smuggle out of Iraq except dirt. Either way we waltz.

You go outside and try to put your luggage into the compartment of the 40 passenger bus. Keep in mind that this is a day coach design and while it carries 40 passengers, it is designed for 20 backpacks or so. if you are not one of the first 10 people you can't get your bags in and you have to lug them into the coach. All of this makes you start to wonder just what the hell these people are taking with them. You have a weeks worth of clothes and a camera in one bag. Some of these people need a train of native porters to haul their stuff. I wonder if they are not really smuggling dirt at this point. You finally get everything loaded and go off on the bus. Yay! We are going to the hotel only we are now informed that since a pair of nitwits streaking drunk through the lobby got us thrown out of a really nice hotel, we are now HQ'd in a not so nice hotel across the street.

Upon arrival we are met by more fierce looking security guards. They have us form another line. We stand in line for our airplane tix for the trip home. All this time you are steaming to get A: Something real to eat. B: A BEER There are nitwits in front of you arguing about their tickets. They wanted the 12:45 from London to Miami but since it is the height of tourist season they are on the 12:50 flight. THIS is a major problem. After 30 minutes Bubba from Mississippi finally understands that it all washes out in the end and takes his ticket. You wait some more and then they get to you. This is not the ticket you asked for. Bubba had a 5 minute difference. Yours is at the wrong time, on the wrong date, to the wrong location. THIS is a major problem!

"Oh, so sorry sir! That is not your ticket. Here is yours! You decide against acting on the homicidal impulse which first occured to you. Your ticket is fine (HA! More on that later.) You finally have a ticket in your pocket, money in your pocket, you are out of Iraq and off the books. What is the first thing you do? You walk over to the bar, get 2 beers, and shotgun them. Now, let's get a cab and be off to the hotel.

Days and Nights and Long, Long Flights

I had a meeting with some night shift personnel and asked them what benefits there were for working on night shift. Along with the usual "There are no big wigs roaming around" and "It is much cooler" were some really good comments. There was one guy though who really put where we are in perspective when he stated that he did not have any jet lag flying to and from the states. By working night shift here he was on an ordinary schedule with the US.

That is a bigger benefit than most folks realize. Most people don't know just how exhausting it is to travel from this part of the world to CONUS. Imagine this and follow me.

You work a 12 hour shift and report to leave. You leave for the flight line at 21:00 for a 22:00 flight. It is a 15 minute ride to the flight line. You do this because the helicopter may be early. It does not show up until 01:30. You get in line and walk through the hot exhaust. You are wearing a full rifle protection vest, a kevlar helmet, long sleeves, ear plugs, safety glasses, and carrying two bags. It is 110 degrees ambient temperature and about 140 in the exhaust area. You work your way past the Machine Gun post and sit sideways along with up to 50 other people. The bird lifts off and you are lulled to sleep in 2 minutes by the hum and vibration of the ride. A minute later you are woken into a semi panic state as the automatic flare system is popping off because they got to close to a burning garbage pile. You don't sleep after that.

The Chinook sets at a pad at the airfield. You get out and have to walk about 1/2 mile to the transient center. You find out that no one sent a bus for you. You go into the center and no one there has commo with your company. You go back out to the parking lot and sleep on your bags.

About 06:00 a bus rolls up and you finally get a ride to the BTC. This is the place where you process out for travel. You get there and they assign you a space in a room designed for 4 people. There are two bunk beds in each room. The staff apologizes that there are no sleeping bags or pillows but you are OK with this because you have traveled this route enough to know to bring a pillow, towel, and space blanket with you. You get to your room and discover that the bunks are all full and there are two cots for you and some one else. You don't care because you are tired and just want some more sleep before the 10:00 roll call. You settle in the bunk fully clothed and nod off. This is interrupted 20 minutes later by your new room mates coming in and talking about subjects you have no interest in. They are oblivious to the fact that you want to sleep so you give up and go to catch the bus for breakfast.

At breakfast you run into several people you really don't want to talk to but they sit down and you force a congenial conversation. You return via bus for the roll call. You have a 2 day lay over planned in Dubai and have hotel reservations so you make sure you are on time so you can catch the afternoon charter flight out.

At roll call they announce a sand storm has settled in and all flights are cancelled. You have the joy of staying at the BTC another day. Whoopee. You suffer it but retain your composure as there are a lot of others in the same boat. The personnel handling the BTC announce that there will be roll calls at odd times and that you will have to use your psychic powers to figure out when. If you miss one of them you get bumped from the flight. because of this no one strays away very far.

You get back to the room and find that while you were gone two people moved out so you now get a top bunk. That's OK until you look on the bunk and see the old piss stains. You decide the cot is better.

You spend a boring day eating, attending roll calls, and trying to sleep and check in for the briefing the next day. The sand storm not only has not abated, it is almost a sand hurricane. Needless to say, they don't want any flaming wrecks from the sky so no flight. Another 100 people arrive who are trying to leave and now some serious crowding issues begin. You have now lost 2 nights at your hotel that were pre paid. You have one night left. Yippy Skippy.

Low and behold, the flight leaves the next day. You are bussed to the terminal and sit for almost 5 hours until they are ready to board you. During this time you are forced to form a line at all times. The security personnel handling this have zero people skills and attempt to make up for that by constantly scowling and looking fierce. After standing in line three seperate times and making a forced march to the holding pen the fierce looking security folks announce that the snack bar has been judged to offer the worst food this side of Tijuana. Having been to TJ and never gotten sick I am at best, cynical about this. However, the prospect of being on your well deserved R&R while taking the Saddam Two Step is not very appealing so you opt for a can of Pringles and twco cokes. Some of the others have also bought Pringles that are different flavors so you all sit around and share. It is sort of a meze type lunch.

They finally announce that you will board and once again the fierce looking security guards have you line up. You now go through a pat down from some Iraqi security personnel. It is not a good idea to wink at thses guys or be a smart ass of any kind. You just suffer through another indignity so you can get the hell out of here.

You load up in an old rickety bus that reeks of diesel fuel and has stained seats. The crappy stereo is playing the Offspring wailing 90's tunes at full cracking volume. The driver grins and gooses the accelerator. Several people almost fall but he just keeps on grinning.

You get aboard and find that your seat adjustments do not work at all. You start to look around and notice that the charter company has changed again. This one is called Phoenix Air. You are not very comfortable with the fact that they have named the airline after a bird that rises from the ashes. The Russian crew can barely speak English. You notice that the backs of the tray tables are all labeled in Spanish and English. The lit signs above the seats have been painted over and English scratched out of the paint for instructions. You wonder which language they painted over.

The plane takes off and makes several hard banks to the left as they corkscrew out of the airport. This maneuver is supposed to make you think they are avoiding missiles but it does no good at all for that. The bad guys can set up two miles away and hit you with a stinger. This vomit inducing move is for random gunfire. You feel like you are in the airline version of a NASCAR race.

You then start to notice that your knees and ass are numb from being squeezed into the smallest seat ever put in a commercial airplane. You wonder if this thing used to belong to Willy Wonka and the plane was used to transport Oompah Loopahs.

2 1/2 hours later you land in Dubai. It is 20:00 two days after you left your camp. The first thing you wonder upon landing is if you really packed enough underwear this time.

TOMORROW - THE DUBAI LEG

18 Hours in Dubai

The Burj al Arab is the most photographed place in all of Dubai. On our way to R&R the three of us stopped of for an 18 hour tour. We of course had to have our picture taken at the place. It is sort of like the Eiffle Tower for the Middle East.

Dave, James, Brent and two Asian girls who were not smart enough to get out of the way.

Hit in the gut

I had a great R&R with Carren and Tanner. I'll put more on that later but I wanted to share a letter I wrote today to some friends. It follows here:

While I was on R&R I heard that we had lost an Apache in Baghdad. Even though the news did not confirm it I knew it had to be one of ours stationed here at Taji. I always have a feeling like I have been hit in the gut when I hear about helos going down. This has been ever since 1st Cav lost an Apache and I knew both the airmen. This was the same.
I knew them both. I didn't know them closely but I had met them in an MWR center and we talked aviation shop talk. These Apache crews are joined at the hip. They call each other "front seat" and "rear seat".
They rag on the Black Hawk pilots and are considered the elite of the rotating wing air world. They are the best helicopter pilots in the world and they are absolutely fearless.
I know a lot of the guys from here who have been killed or wounded. I also knew several of the contractors and some Iraqis who have died.
Today we got news that a bus on its way to the airport was ambushed and 4 women in it were killed. Sure enough we heard that two of the women worked at the snack bar in the airport. This just makes me ill. These were young girls. They were good Muslim girls who wore their head scarves and did not flirt but just conducted their business professionally and while being friendly about it. Nice girls, educated, and good English speakers. I spoke with them several times and like most Iraqis they just want all the strife to end so they can get on with their lives.
I know all this will be over one day and we will all go on with our lives but I just hope that none of these people are forgotten. I remember a promise I made to myself at the very beginning that I would not forget those I knew. I still think from time to time about Francis Vega. She was the first I knew to die. She worked in the postal section and had handled several packages for me at BIAP. She was transferred North and when she got her R&R her Chinook was shot down with 17 casualties. This was in November of 2003. They named the Post Office at Camp Liberty after her.
I hope that no more people I know die but I am sure some will. I am glad that most of my friends have made it home safely. Guys like Butch Jacobs, Dwayne Koontz and Neil Cohen. They are unsung heroes who did their time and now are just trying to get on with their lives. I know that they talk about all of this to people but that they always hold something back. They tell some of it but not all. They understand now why Vietnam vets would say," You would not understand, you were not there." Its true, you don't understand unless you have been here. I am glad they are OK but I know that they wake up every day and wonder how their friends over here are doing.
I got a phone call today from a guy who worked for us in 2003 and early 2004. He wanted to check up on everyone and see how we were doing. He also just wanted to vent a little about how the media is misrepresenting all of this. He knows what we know. We are not fighting the Iraqi people, we are fighting radical Islam. We have no beef with the Iraqis. For the most part they are good honorable people who just want to get on with life. We want to help them to accomplish that.
Sometimes the violence hits close. I mean this in a literal and figurative sense. Mortars, rockets, and sniper fire are one form of it. Violence perpetrated on those you know or are affected by is another form. It all plays on our souls and on our attitudes. My attitude about this is unshakeable. This is a good fight. This is the right thing to do. There are those who want us to fail but we will not. We can't. Our very way of life depends on it. I may die over here. If I do I hope no one forgets my sacrifices the way I don't forget the ones before me.

One day and a wake up!

Only one more full day after today and then I am outta here for two weeks! I have been through a lot of stress this time around and am really looking forward to getting away for a while. I some times wonder how I can continue when I miss Carren, Tanner, and Bosco so much but our futures are so intertwined with the work I am doing that I can't just pack it in and go. My mood swings a lot when I get past 100 days and it is actually easier to work and stay focused early in my rotation rather than later. I guess that is why we had 90 day rotations in the Balkans. It did not seem like any big deal to lose one rotation a year but it is a heck of a big deal.

Lots of the Army personnel look at us and think it is unfair that they "only" get one R&R in their one year tour and we get 3. Fact is, they come over for 1 year only and then go home. We have been here since 2003 and will be here long after they have gone home and gotten on with life. At least they all know their end dates. I have goals but I really still only guess at mine.

I won't be posting while on R&R but I will return in early July. AMF YO-YO!

Long Days

As I get closer to my R&R it seems that the days are just getting longer and longer. I know that the hours of daylight are increasing because we have not reached summer solstice yet and that is not what I am commenting on. What I mean is that each and every day seems to last 30 hours. I try and stay focused but after 100 days straight about all you can think about is getting out of here for a while. There have been a lot of changes here lately and I don't agree with all of them and maybe this is what has me itching to get away.

I'm ready for vacation!

Saddam got me! 

Weather Report From Iraq

It's hot. It's real fucking hot and it will remain hot until it is followed by a cool spell some time in October.

It hit 110 degrees in the shade today. It will be only 99 tomorrow. The OIC at the BUB today said we were looking at a cooling trend!

The weirdest war

This war sometimes just floors me. I have buddies who go outside the wire every damn day risking their lives and when they get back on base they are just happy as a clam to have a hot meal, a shower, a gym, PX, etc. The damn Fobbits (Those who never leave the FOB) drive me nutty. They always want to complain about something and it is usually something trivial. Let me give you a couple of examples.

An E-5 (3 stripe Sergeant) that I know was out side for a night. His unit took on an IED, two drive by shoots, three foot patrols in Baghdad and then drove back on highway 1 which is without a doubt even more dangerous than the 405 in LA at rush hour. When he got back in it was between meal times so he sent a specialist to see me to find out if they could get something from the DFAC. That was the easiest thing in the world, all I did was make a phone call and order it. You would have thought I had given these guys $1000.00 each they were so greatful. That is what makes my sacrifices worth it, the smiles and the gratitude of those who are defending you.

On the flip side another NCO who wears pressed, starched DCUs (Where she gets this done is beyond me!) is all bent out of shape because this very same DFAC runs out of Baskin Robbins Ice Cream and lettuce on a frequent basis. Mind you, it always has lots and lots of food but we run out of perishable and popular items like this because of the convoy system which is wat beyond our control. No matter how many time I explain it she still thinks I am trying to pull a fast one.

What a weird war. The media thinks we are losing and we are not. The public thinks the soldiers don't have enough body armor and they do. The Iraqis think we are all rich and we are not. The soldiers think we should be out and in the public more and we are not. The contractors all think they are safer in the FOBs and sometime they are not. Its just a weird war. You can't read the local language as it is not in a Roman or even Cyrillic alpahbet. The people have no cultural similarities to us and we really don't understand them very well some times.

Its all just weird. I can get the new Star Wars movie on DVD 3 days after it premiers anywhere in the world and yet I can't get a beer. I can smoke a cuban cigar any day of the week but I can't own a Playboy magazine. I have to drive like a maniac when I go outside the fence but I will get fired if I exceed the speed limit on post.

This all makes it hard to readjust when I go home on R&R. I involuntarily flinch every time I hear a door slam or a "pop" of any kind. I can tell the type of round that has impacted by sound alone. I can tell if it is a 60mm or 82mm mortar. I can tell if it is a 122mm or 105mm rocket. I can tell if an IED is made from an old artillery shell or from harvested explosives.

I don't know what TV shows are popular. I have no idea what is in the Top 20 of new music. I don't know half the celebrities that are listed on the web. I try and fail at following baseball. I try and fail at keeping good line of commuincation open with my wife.

I can call home anytime I want and can email anytime I want but the company firewall will not let me use a video link. Even with all the technology I find us growing more and more distant and that just will not do. I didn't come over to this weird war to be alienated from my family. I will finish what I started but I will come home. I hope I do before I get too weird.

My oh my! It be a mortar! 

Saddam and Me! The last untagged Saddam portrait in Taji. 

A friend sent this to me and I just HAD to post it. I agree with George and I too am a Bad American!

YES, I'M A BAD AMERICAN by George Carlin

I Am Your Worst Nightmare. I am a BAD American. I am George Carlin.

I believe the money I make belongs to me and my family, not some mid level governmental functionary be it Democratic or Republican!

I'm in touch with my feelings and I like it that way, damn it!

I think owning a gun doesn't make you a killer, it makes you a smart American.

I think being a minority does not make you noble or victimized, and does not entitle you to anything.

I believe that if you are selling me a Big Mac, try to do it in English.

I think fireworks should be legal on the 4th of July.

I think that being a student doesn't give you any more enlightenment than working at Blockbuster. In fact, if your parents are footing the bill to put your pansy ass through 4 years plus of college, you haven't begun to be enlightened.

I believe everyone has a right to pray to his or her God when and where they want to.

My heroes are John Wayne, Babe Ruth, Roy Rogers, and whoever canceled Jerry Springer.

I don't hate the rich. I don't pity the poor.

I know wrestling is fake and I don't waste my time arguing about it.

I think global warming is a big lie. Where are all those experts now, when I'm freezing my ass off during these long winters and paying, paying, paying?

I've never owned a slave, or was a slave, I didn't wander forty years In the desert after getting chased out of Egypt. I haven't burned any witches or been persecuted by the Turks and neither have you! So, shut-the-Hell-up already.

I want to know which church is it exactly where the Reverend Jesse Jackson practices, where he gets his money, and why he is always part of the problem and not the solution. Can I get an AMEN on that one?

I think the cops have every right to shoot your sorry ass if you're running from them. I also think they have the right to pull your ass over if you're breaking the law, regardless of what color you are. And, no, I don't mind having my face shown on my drivers license. I think it's good.....and I'm proud that "God" is written on my money.

I think if you are too stupid to know how a ballot works, I don't want you deciding who should be running the most powerful nation in the world for the next four years.

I dislike those people standing in the intersections trying to sell me crap or trying to guilt me into making "donations" to their cause. These people should be targets.

I believe that it doesn't take a village to raise a child, it takes two parents. And what the hell is going on with gas prices... again?

If this makes me a BAD American, then yes, I'm a BAD American.

A child's mind

I have always wondered what Tanner might be thinking about me being away all the time. It finally dawned on me that he thinks I am in an airplane all the time. He sees me come and go in airplanes and he has been in quite a few himself so he thinks that is where I am.

The other night Carren put him on the phone and he took it into his room to talk to me. This was our first ever "private" phone conversation. While chatting about his bed and his speedy track he just about floored me when he asked me if I would bring my airplane and come to see him. I started to shed a tear and he said that I could come because it is my house too and that he wants me to see his new cars. I told him I would be there in 5 weeks. He asked if that was tomorrow. I said no, that it was later but that I am coming and we are going on a big boat to Mexico. I was crying in full bloom by this point but he can't see it so he did not know. he was aksing me if I could see his new cars. I told him no at first but then I started saying that yes I could, and had him describe them to me.

He is growing up so fast. I am missing so much by being here but I still have some time to do. I am guessing that in about 16-18 months I will be done with all of this and I can stay home for good. I hope so.

DFACs on Fox News

Last week there was a film crew here from Fox News. They were here to film a story on the two DFACs that we erected last year. I have not seen the story but we have gotten some email traffic on it. We are quite proud of these facilities. It normally takes 160 days to build one of them and we built two of them simultaneously in a 46 day period.

Changes

The only constant in life is change. As inexorable as death and taxes, change takes place. The site has turned from a Task Order site into a full blown project with a full project management team. They have moved a team from a project location that was closing and I have been reassigned as the Project Operations Manager. What this really means is that I have gone from being the Duke of the Realm to being a member of the royal court. It is much like as S-3 shop for the military. I am now responsible for information, information, information. I have been told it is a promotion and that it is another step on the path to becoming a project manager. It sure does not feel like it though. I did get a small raise so that is nice. Time rolls on.

The Tigris River at the Green Zone. 

It's Hajiriffic! Here are some Iraqi laborers setting up a road detour. Note which way the arrow points! this should tell you a lot about the level of education and workmanship that we deal with. 

Mysterious Ruins. We see these all the time but no one can tell us anything about them. We are all very curious. they are located about 5 miles NNW of the baghdad Airport. 

One of the nicer neighborhoods of Baghdad 

BLACK HAWK UP! The best shot I have taken of a Black Hawk so far. I caught this one in a remote area coming low and fast and was lucky to get my camera out in time. 

Bummers Happen

We got some bad news. Our home away from home is being taken away from us. Taji is being split off into its own Task Order and they are shifting an entirely new team from a base closure to take over. My team and I are being shifted down south to another location. I should be flattered that it take a full Project Management staff to replace me and mine but it still sticks in my craw as I have busted my ass for 14 months to build this place up and now some other staff comes in and grabs all the assets we have labored to build.

Life goes on and no one said it is fair.

Songs

I have discovered the joys of the i pod. I have been using itunes on my computer to store music for some time now but have always resisted downloading it into an electronic player because of cost. One of the guys here bought a 40 Gig Ipod at the PX for $400.00 He can store DAYS of music on it. It has more memory than my laptop. I listened to it and I am sold. I getting one next month when that fat 5 week paycheck comes floating in.

Elusive Birds

UH 60 Shadow

Trip over Baghdad

I took a rather long helicopter flight today and saw a lot of Baghdad from the air that I had never seen before. I get requests to post more photos so I decided to put one on that I took today. Baghdad is like any other city in that it has both good and bad. This is a shot I took while we were in a banking turn. What I really like about it is that you can see the shadow of our bird.

A year ago

I was asked by our MWR Newspaper Editor if I would write an article or message to the team. I have been thinking a lot about what happened here last year. I was scared. I told Carren I was not but I was. It was the very worst that we went through but we got through it by bonding together. It was the biggest test I have ever had as a leader and I did the best I could. I told my staff that every man wonders what it is like to be at the tip of the sword. We know now. I also know now what Vietnam vets meant when they just did not want to talk about it with anyone who had not been there. They would say, "You won't understand." That is true. I find it easier to write about it than talk about it. I have a bond with these people that I will never have with any others. I was under fire with them.

I chewed rocks with Bob Johnson in a parking lot outside the DFAC during a mortar attack. I sat in a bunker with Lou Stall where a 1st Cav trooper hit me up for a job while we had 13 rockets land within 200 yards. I drove like a madman when we took fire outside Balad in a convoy. I made Ed Bruener spill his coffee in his lap. I don't know what made more noise, the Humvee in front of me cooking of with Ma Deuce (.50 caliber) or Ed screaming from the scalding coffee. I sat on the Baath party star in our parking lot with Specialist Lakin while he calmly shot three nitwits trying to come through the fence naked. The survivor said they had seen the movie Predator and figured that is they were naked and covered with mud the guards would not pick them up with night vision. I was in the TOC when Chief Keaton called in artlillery on a mortar position and killed 6 insurgents with one round. It goes on and on. It's not all violence but the violence sticks with you.

I don't think I will have any long term problems but I know that I am not the same person I was when I got here. I have changed. My world has changed. My priorities have changed. I love life.

Anyway, here is what I wrote.

Message to Team Taji,

A year ago we went through a terrible week. We had fellow KBR employees killed and captured by insurgents in convoys right outside our gates. Taji was declared a safe haven and the truckers came pouring in. It was chaos and it took us two days to get everyone together under one roof and accounted for. The truckers were angry, scared, and confused, but they responded to the quiet leadership offered by some of the same people here today.

As there was a stop move order they were stuck here with us. Some of them had lost everything and did not even have a change of clothes. One of them had been declared dead and we were overjoyed to find he was alive. Our personnel took them in, gave them clothes, vehicles to drive, food to eat, phone and email access. Our team went the extra mile to help these wonderful men. They responded in kind. They became part of Team Taji. They helped us pick up trash, haul water and laundry, and did everything they could to assist us in our mission. They became part of our community. When they rolled out we were concerned and made sure they contacted us when they got to their home bases.

Before they left they paid us a wonderful tribute. On the wall beside the morale phones is our wall of honor. The truckers who were stranded here wrote notes of thanks and gratitude where they can still be read today. They did this with no prompting because they wanted to leave something behind that would remind us of them. Every time I see this wall my eyes well up with tears remembering that awful, wonderful week when we became a family here at Taji.

Some of these heroes are with us today. Joe Markin is here and so is Dan Randall. They were stranded here and loved it here. They came back to work specifically for Taji. They are heroes as are any person, man or woman, who has ever driven a truck outside that gate. This is the reason we go the extra mile for these people. Nothing gets here unless it is on a truck. That truck is driven or commanded by someone from back home. They are fathers, mothers, husbands, wives, sons, and daughters. They are heroes, they are brave, they are Americans, and they are welcome at Taji.

These boys mean business! 

Being bad is a full time job

The media at home infuriates us. They only harp on bad news and what happens to our soldiers. If it bleeds it leads. They don't tell you how many bad guys we kill. I'm glad they gave up the body count after Vietnam but it would go a long way toward making everyone feel a lot better this time around if the truth were told.

I was asked by a friend to add more pictures. Ok, I will. I'll add what I can that is not too gruesome or anything that will upset my family but this is a photo I love. It was taken during the invasion by a soldier from the 203rd Engineers, Missouri National Guard. How would you like to be on the receiving end of that 25mm chain gun?

I can see the light at the end of the tunnel

I just hope it is not an oncoming train! I was up until 05:00 this morning with the Project Manager selling off some of our budgets. We are 75% finished and have sold off all the major elements. Captain Dodge emailed me and told me to just take folders, put last years budget in it, and mark +10% on the cover of each. I wish it were that simple.

Soon I will be able to get back to the relative comfort of Taji. I never knew how special our Base was until I had to spend two weeks here. There is always a lot of arrogance at the flag pole but this is magnified by the Bosnian Mafia.

Our company has some new commercials coming out starting today. It's about time! We are sick and tired of all the bashing we have been taking in the press. I know several of the people in the commercials too. There is an interesting bunch!

Cold, tired, and ready to fly 

Still here

I am still trapped at Camp Liberty working on the BOE. The Army says it is the Basis Of Estimate for the budget. I have heard it called the Bullshit Of Existence, Bag Of Ether, Basis Of Excrement, Big Ol Excitement, Blowing Our Estimates, Bag Of Enemas, etc.

No one wants to work on it anymore, we are all burned out and just want to finish it off. I feel like a matador who has toyed with a mad bull for about 2 weeks and now I am ready to put it to the sword.

We have a bunch of FNGs who are all excited about being here. They wnat to hear war storeis about the early days but I just don't have the energy to relay what really happened here in 2003/04. I just want to work, sleep, and be left alone.

That is not how I normally am Maybe the fatigue is setting in and maybe it is just because this camp is so unfriendly. Either way I can't wait to get back to Taji.

R&R

My R&R was not everything I hoped for. it is becomming routine now and the homecomings are less and less intense. It is not that my wife does not care, she is just getting used to it. That has it's dangers but we work hard to keep in touch and keep complacency from setting in.

After two weeks at home I went to Zurich for 3 days. I had hoped to get some skiing in at one of the famous resorts there. not to be. The first night I was there I had Turkish food and I am guessing that it was the lamb that caused me to have a remake of War and Peace in my abdomen. Zurich is nice but I would not go back to it as a destination.

I came back from R&R a week ago and ran into a firestorm. The Army has invoked Alpha Contracting which means we are under an electron microscope when it comes to cost. We have spent the last week working on nothing but the budget for the upcoaming year. We have worked some brutal hours too. I put in 22 hours in one day and 18 the next. It is grueling but is still better than having to go outside the fence!

Every intel type I talk to says the insurgents are mentally worn down. The election that the media wanted to fail has had the effect we hoped it would. It showed the bad guys that they have no real popular support. These people do not want to go back to the days of Saddam and they damn sure don't want an Islamic Theocracy.

New stuff!

I saw a real historical event yesterday. It was the first time that an Iraqi Army armored convoy went on patrol since the invasion. The marines have been hard at work training these guys and getting their equipment up to speed but it is starting to pay off. They will be much better fighters now that they have some armor for protection. Over here its is not so important to outgun as it is to outprotect!

Taking it to the streets

I watched some of the boys saddling up for another day in the hood. They were going out in their up armored HUMMWVs and were armed with M-240s, M-249s, Mk 19s, etc. They are not happy with the indiginous population right now because they lost three of their brothers a few days ago. They had fire in their eyes and have ice water in their veins. They are so close to going home and it just does nothing but piss them off when this happens.

When will Haji learn? All they have to do is stop shooting at us and we will go home. It's that damn simple.