Old Stuff...

I'm not even sure what happeded to the following but check it out.... Dec. 31, 2006 Howdy! Well, 2006 is now history and 2007 is off and running. What did I do for New Years? We sat around and played poker. One of the guys received a box of holiday “chocolates” and we tried to catch a buzz but it was no use. Oh well, another holiday that we are going to have to celebrate when we return home. So what has been going on since the last time that I updated my blog? Lots of work with a couple of close calls. We have a couple more rockets that hit our perimeter. It’s kind of strange that we are now getting to know what the incoming rounds actually sound like. Not good. We continue to receive care packages from family members, friends, church organizations and strangers. Some of the gifts are very practical and some are just off the charts for example, the box full of sandwich bags that my buddy received. Regardless, the fact that we are being thought of really goes a long way to help us get through some of the tough times that all of us are going through. Being away from home this time of year is something that none of us are enjoying. We do lean on one another but it is just not the same as being home for the holidays. I received an e-mail from my oldest son. Sergio just turned eleven. (Sorry Mijo, but we will make up for it in a couple of months, how about a tattoo?) His e-mail read as follows: “Dad, we know that you love the Navy but we want you to retire. Don’t leave us again.….” Going into this deployment I knew that my being away was going to take its toll on the family and on me too. Can I tell you that he is not one to open up and seeing these words hit me harder than I have ever been hit before. Why am I putting this in my blog? Well, more than a couple of people have asked me why I stayed in knowing that I was going to deployed. The truth is it is my hope that my being away from home will prove to be the reason, or example that my sons need to keep from having to make some of the choices that I have had to make. If they decide to join the military, then so be it. All that is that they look into the various branches of the military, decide on what they want to do, short and long term and then go for it. Preferably with a commission. Yes, being out here the hardest thing that I have ever had to do. But I do not have any regrets about staying in and being out here is not about chasing glory it has always been about the guys that are next to me right now. We serve with pride and with honor. That in itself makes being here, away from all that we love, that much easier to deal with. Jan. 2, 2007 Another day down the drain. We spent today working on the IA side of the base, that would be the Iraqi Army. Their base is attached to ours with only a string of concertina wire separating us. We have heard stories and read some of the reports about these guys being trained by American troops only to switch sides and turn around and attack the same guys that trained them. The SOP for going over there is full battle dress. Which consists of flack jacket and Kevlar helmet and of course our M-16, loaded. I am certain that most of the IA’s do want our help over here but all it takes is for one of them to go over to the dark side and doing that will bring a world of hurt on everyone on that side. So we do not take any chances. We stick to a strict rule of two man integrity. Meaning, where one goes another man must follow. Jan. 4, 2007\ Well, we spent the last two days working on the Iraqi side of the base. We went into thinking the absolute worst but we were surprised by how friendly they are. Some of them did give some awkward stares but I think it just has to do with the fact that we are Americans and we just don’t belong here. The other thing is that they are very curious about us. One of my friends, Marty Gill received a couple of care packages from home. The packages contained canned goods, peanuts and lunch packs of tuna. He made the mistake of opening the package in front of a group of Iraqi soldiers. They made a bee line over to him and instantly began asking for hand outs. He obliged with a couple of items. He did want to hold on to a few things but they have a hard time understanding the word, “NO”. This happened yesterday so when they saw us return today they came over expecting another box of goodies. No go. We do not have to return to that side of the base for a while but I must say that my opinion has changed a bit. But I still cannot trust them 100%. Jan. 5, 2007 Today was one of those days where you keep telling yourself, “Self, why did you get out of bed this morning?”. It’s not that it was a bad day, we did get a lot done but it was cold and miserable and we got some rain mixed with ice. I almost forgot about the wind that kicked things around a bit for us. It was so cold that my fingers and toes were numb for most of the day. We were laughing about the weather and the gear that the navy issued us. See, when we were going through our training in Gulfport the higher ups decided that we had to mimic the conditions that we would have to deal with out here. So we drank a heck of a lot of water and carried all of our gear just about everywhere that we went. They got us worked up and ready for the extreme heat that this part of the world is famous for. Not once did anyone step and say, “Just in case it does get cold over there, you want to have some cold weather gear issued out as well.” That would have required foresight and , well, this is the military. That said, we are making due. Many of us are just throwing on layers of clothing, gloves, scarves and head gear. Most of it is not military issue but we have to take care of ourselves out here. Jan. 06, 2007 I need to tell you about Marty Gill. He is a fellow EO2, Equipment Operator Second Class. He and I work together each day. He has got to be one of goofiest guys I have ever known. We joke around with one another about 99% of the time. As cool as that is, it can get in the way of our ability to communicate with each other. Today was a perfect example of that. We receive our mission for the following day the night before. Last night was no different. We showed up at work went over the plan for the day one more time and then we headed out. Right before we left the wire Marty stops and asks me “What are we doing again?” I smirked and asked, “You’re joking right?” He went off the deep end but I thought that he joking so I kept at it. He got even more upset. I went over the plan again and we headed off. A few hours later, after we returned from our mission I went over to talk to him and he gave me the cold shoulder which is not like him to do. Understand that he is one of the most upbeat, level headed guys out here. He is definitely one of the guys that keeps me going, heck , he does that for a lot of the guys that are out here with us. I don’t think that he knows that. We did get around to talking about it and things are back to being cool again. What I wanted to say about the guy is that he went through a real ugly divorce, got hammered in court, even though she had a year long affair. He is paying a mint in child support but his little girl, Lindsey, spends most of the time with him. If this was not enough, soon after we arrived in country he received a “Dear John” e-mail from his girlfriend of three years. He had no idea it was coming. I know that it was killing him. Through all of this hardship he manages to keep a joker like smirk on his face and he makes it a point to keep those around him in a good mood. We have had some long and deep talks about life back home. If nothing else the man can listen and he can also give some heartfelt advice. Jan. 10, 2007 It’s the moments alone that really make this place hard to deal with. I find myself lost, literally lost, in my thoughts and memories of home. We go about our day to day stuff like robots. This actually helps with dealing with the fact that we are so far from home but it’s the time spent alone that forces us to look deep within ourselves. I had one of those days today…. I was working at one of our sights, filling the Hesco’s . I was out there by myself. I started thinking about my boys, my wife, my mom and dad. Just going down the list of the people that I miss the most and it hit me. I have now been gone for over four months with at least two to three more to go. What do my sons really think of me? Do they resent me? What about my wife, does she really and truly understand why I am out here. Why I stayed in the reserves? And my parents, they were not born here. How do they really feel about me being out here? So many questions and no answers, not a single one. As it is the hold that I have on my sanity is a very fragile one at best. I was so close to giving up today. I thought about going to the chaplain’s office and just letting it all out with the hopes/intention that he would get the ball rolling to get me out of here ASAP. I’m not even sure if he could do that but the thought was definitely there. Jan. 19, 2007 This morning I received word that I will be leaving this place a few days ahead of schedule. I will be out of here on March 11. That means that I should be home in time to see my daughter pop out of the oven. Receiving the news this morning did wonders for my personal morale. I did not realize that it was that low but I can tell you that I noticed the difference immediately. Since arriving in county I set my calendar up with me arriving in El Paso sometime in April. Needless to say my countdown has taken a big and very welcome drop. As of today my count is at fifty days. Just typing fifty days makes me smile. Ha! I can now actually start planning on doing the things that I have been missing and every one of them involves my wife and kids. Ah, to be home again. Feb. 5, 2007 I am now back at Al Asad, not my favorite place to be but I am almost out of here. According to my Chief I will be on the early bird in a little over a month. I cannot wait for that. Feb. 07, 2007 I had my first official day off yesterday. Although it was very nice to not have anything to do, it still sucked. I sat around and just got lost in my thoughts. I kept thinking about my wife, the boys and my family. So much time has gone by since the last time that I saw them. How different are things for them now? How are they going to react to having me around again? These thoughts stayed with me all day long. For the most part, I was miserable. Feb. 19, 2007 I had a real scare today and that is not something that is easy for me to admit. I was told a few days ago that I would be heading out for another mission. I was slated to convoy to KV, Korean Village, which is near the Syrian border. KV is not a bad place, at least that is what I am told. I was more concerned with the trip up there. I was going to go in one of our armored trucks. I was dreading it. As I said, I knew about this trip and it had been weighting and today it hit me. Hard. I kept thinking about the battalions that have come before us and historically the last month of the deployment has been the scariest and in some cases, the deadliest. I let so many negative thoughts come over that I just let them get the best of me. I sat in my can and cried. It was nothing but fear pouring out of me. I prayed to God to keep me from going. I returned to out compound and I let a few people know that I did not want to go. I did not tell them how badly this was affecting me. It did not look too good for me and I could not back out of it completely. I went to work and those thoughts came back. I sat there and thought of typing up a few good bye letters to my wife, my boys, my family and to the other ‘bees. Just in case. Chief Price came up to me and said, “Well, I hope that you did not have your heart set on this trip but I need to send someone with some solid experience on this type of equipment. Just like that, I was off of the hook. I have to say that with all of the work that the Marines and the Army have put into securing the roads for all of us, the trip itself would not be that dangerous but I let the thoughts get in, I just mind fucked myself, all day. My wife could tell that something was wrong but I could not bring myself to tell her. Not in her condition. I am now sitting in front of my can thinking about how things work and how God does work in mysterious ways. Do I deserve this reprieve? March 11, 2007 Well, Izabella Angel joined our family on February 23. Monica started bleeding and they had to go in and do an emergency C-section. Mom and the baby came out of it with flying colors. I had to wait a few days before I was able to receive and view the pics that the family had sent me. Izabella is one beautiful baby. She looks just like her big brother Sergio looked at that age. Which means that Izabella looks a lot like me. Oh well. “Sorry kid, dems da breaks.” Ha! So now I am finally on the first leg of my journey home but let me back up to Feb. 20. I was extremely concerned about the mission that I was pulled from but fate was not on my side. Due to lack of operators my Chief had to put me on a list for an upcoming series of missions. I was assigned to UD Green 2. A Driver, Comms.. with Dano as my driver. Dano, or Boy Band, is one of my closest friends out here so being assigned to his truck was easier for me to deal with. Yes, being out on the road, outside the wire, did pose a bit of a problem with me but since Dano has been running convoy missions since Day 1. So being on this (these) mission(s) with him were easier to get through. He knew that I was more than a little concerned but he did not pull me aside to give me a pep talk or go out of his way to keep me motivated. Nope, he just went about his usual routine. His “It’s just another mission” approach to this mission made me feel at ease. Their was still some apprehension but it was now manageable. We headed out on our mission, at night, and it was not as bad as I had imagined it would be. Actually, it sucked. The trucks that we ride in are not designed for comfort, they are designed for safety. Which is not a bad thing but would it cost the government that much to install another couple of inches of the soft stuff on the seats? Jeez! Dano and I rode along, the conversation was flowing. The guy is as down to earth as can be. He puts the low in mellow. He carries himself with a calmness that affects everyone around him. He is like a hit of weed. I call him the Columbian Red, the Jamaican Gold, the Ganja. Not that I know what these names mean but they sound cool. Anyway, we had been rolling along for about three hours when I spotted tracer rounds at about 500 meters. Since I was running comms, I called it in. “Victor 1. Green 2. Tracer rounds spotted. 10 o'clock. 5 clicks. Over.” You sure? “Stand by.” I turned on the NVG's, looked out towards my ten. One-thousand. One thousand-two. One thousand-...TRACERS!!! “Victor 1. Green 2. Confirmed. Tracers at 10 o'clock.” By now the other vehicles had spotted the same thing. The gunners had zeroed in on the location. We called it in to the COC. The army had engaged the enemy. Back up was not requested or needed. We waited for a few minutes. Which felt like hours but the call came over to push forward. We started moving along when our truck stalled. It just died. The convoy kept moving forward but we were dead. The lights from the vehicles ahead of us faded into the distance. Dano and I sat there, in the dark, in a dead truck. “Victor 1. Green 2. We have lost power. I say again, we have lost power.” Understand that if one vehicle dies, the other vehicles cannot go around that vehicle. All the vehicles behind that vehicle have to sit there until the vehicle is back on line, towed or dead lined. Luckily, thanks to one our seven ton trucks, we were able to pull start it. The kicker to this break drown was that after we had traveled to a point that put us right in line to where the tracer rounds were spotted. 'Yikes', is right. We made it back to our home base a little over an hour later. Whew. March 12, 2006 We have started the trip home. It is not as easy as getting on a plane and skipping over the Atlantic. We have to make a few stops, pick up a few more folks, stop in Kuwait and begin the decompression process. Once that is complete we will hop on another plane and then make it to either Germany or Ireland. After that we will stop in New York City or Bangor, Maine before making our final stop, as a group, in Gulfport, Mississippi. After returning all of our gear, attending a few re assimilation classes and getting checked out by medical, we will then be released into the wild, umm, start our (22 days) leave period. It is then, and only then, that we will be able to return home. Needless to say, with a brand new baby girl, two great, great sons, a loving wife and a supportive family (extended too) I cannot wait to get home. March 20, 2007 I am now going through the demobilization process. So much of it is such a waste of time. We are ordered to muster at a certain time but we never start the scheduled evolution on time. Most of the time has been spent listening to briefs on material that we are all ready familiar with. Before making it back to Gulfport, the military had been putting such an emphasis on helping us to transition back to 'normal'. The truth is so much of what we have done so far is absolutely unnecessary. Much of the information that we have received is overkill. We have been through much of this training before. It almost seems like they dug up ways to fill up our days but yet we get two to three hours for lunch. “We want to help you get processed out ASAP so that you can get back home.” And yet, if you need any follow up or additional information no one can be found as the regular navy cuts out by 3 p.m. So we have to wait until the next day. Thanks! But there's more. This morning we went down for our morning muster at 0715. We turned in the last of our gear. We were finished by 0730. I was back in my room and I did not have to be back until 1300. That is more than five hours of nothing. It does not make any sense for me. “We want you out of here ASAP but we are going to give you lots of time off.” Don't they understand that all that we do, all of us, is sit around and have WTF?! conversations about this process? For me, all that I can is watch the second hand on the clock and wonder, “How much longer before I get to go home? Hold the baby for the first time? My boys? Monica? My family? I am in a hurry to go home but before I do that I feel that I do need to uncork some of the “stuff” that I have kept inside. I have requested permission to not fly home but instead take a road trip across this part of the country. I've always enjoyed road trips but this time it will be “new”. While I was away I kept picturing scenes from small town America. The out of the way towns, hidden along the back roads that, to me, have always defined America.