April Showers/May Flowers

May 1^st- What a wonderful day. What a wonderful week! Let me count the ways. First of all, I was awake and bushy tailed for the Royal Wedding on April 29. We watched the whole event live and I frequently checked the internet for updated photos of the dress, guests and those hats. Why don't we wear hats? Hats are so stylish and sophisticated and we only wear them to horse races. Such a waste.  When I say we, I subjected the boys to hours of live coverage and I do not have the least amount of guilt over it. I have listened to numerous hours over the past few weeks of idiotic sitcoms and movies and I enjoyed every last minute of their torture. MSgt Riegel came over from TMO and we conducted our own commentary as the wedding progressed. I’m not usually a sucker for weddings, but I was definitely caught up in the excitement over this one. I could not get enough  details and even googled “lip reading royal wedding.”  The tid bits we could not hear were even better and made the day all that romantic. Of course I believe every word I read as the internet does not lie.

Second of all, two words- TOBY KEITH, that man is just plain yummy. We knew he was coming for several weeks, but when his arrival date hit, I was beside myself with excitement. I looked over our planned flights for the day and passenger manifests for his name; I saw a Toby Covel and wondered if that was him. Later in the day Protocol called and confirmed his inbound flight. Part of our everyday job is to meet every inbound aircraft and also send off every outbound aircraft. I figured this was my opportunity the meet Toby and he wouldn’t be able to escape me.

Toby was due to arrive just before my shift started and I planned on coming in early to meet the plane. I asked the other shift if there were any changes to the arrival time to call my CHU. The next morning my alarm went off and I hit the snooze button. An hour or so later, I woke up. I was on time for work, but had missed my Toby. All was not lost I told myself as he still had to leave which gave me plenty of time.

His concert was later that night and TSgt Dixon was planning on going. I was on the fence if I should go or not. You know by now I really like Toby Keith and I do enjoy concerts, but I do not like the concert area that is set up for the USO shows. It’s a dirt/gravel area just outside the Exchange on the Liberty side and the concerts get filled with personnel shoulder to shoulder. If you have to get there early to stake claim to your square of dirt and if you can, bring your own chair. For me, this did not sound like fun. It really was the crowd part and being a part of a huge target. I told Dixon I would go and be his battle buddy since we are not allowed to go any where solo. At the last moment I bailed on him, but there were two others going and they all went together. Dixon came back and said the show great and I missed a good concert. As Toby was taking stage, the VBC took three IDF’s. Toby kept walking and said “Fuck them.” I would have enjoyed that part of the concert, but I don’t have any regrets. In my mind, I knew I still had the next day to see his plane off.  

As I left work, I again asked to be called if his departure time changed. He was scheduled to leave during my shift and I was not going to miss this last chance. I was just waking up when SrA Manriquez called me and said his plane was arriving early and this would mean the departure time would also be pushed earlier. I flew out of bed, dressed and was at work in less than thirty minutes. Dixon and I waited about an hour and half at the plane. We chatted with the C-130 crew as they were held hostage and were also waiting for their passengers. Protocol had an outbound manifest and we looked over the names and Toby Covel was listed again. We had much debate on if this was his real name or pseudo name. Dixon went with real and I went with pseudo. I later googled it and I was wrong, Toby Keith Covel is his legal name. Who knew? After his band equipment and baggage pallets were uploaded, I knew my patience would pay off and he would arrive shortly.

Remember those blacked out SUV’s I talked about previously? Well a long line of them rolled through the check point and stopped at our plane. There he was with his road crew carrying his own Harley Davidson bag. Before he arrived, Dixon and I swapped cameras and explained how each of our cameras worked so we wouldn’t be fumbling and wasting time. As he approached the plane, Dixon snapped my picture and I was able to get a picture of Dixon and Toby together. We left happy campers as he climbed the short stairs to the C-130 and buckled into the same red net seats we also sit in. 

I spoke to our First Sergeant, MSgt Paton later in the day and she mentioned how she was able to meet him also.  Prior to him driving up, he had been in what we call the Glass House and had met a few people in a brief meet and greet. As she spoke with him, she gave him a squadron t-shirt and coin and asked if he would display it in his Oklahoma bar. According to MSgt Patton, Toby will display items given to him while on tour. Toby took the items from her and said he would. He then turned to his manager and instructed him to do this as the manger placed a note on it and took the items from him. One of the entourage later told MSgt Patton, that Toby had done her right and it would be done. I almost want to go to Oklahoma just to see the t-shirt displayed. We both think the back side is the side he will choose as it’s a picture of a camel standing up carrying various items depicting the Logistical Readiness Squadron and related functions with the caption “You Can’t Make This Shit Up!” It seems Toby does this tour every year and this marks the ninth tour. You have to admire that.

Toby Day as it will now be known was actually my day off and I headed to my CHU to share with the world my picture taken with him. I cannot explain what I felt as I hit browse to upload on Face Book and saw there was no picture. How can this be? I saw the picture on my camera screen. I clicked browse again and still no picture. I clicked my computer, removable drive, DCIM folder, thumbnail, scroll, scroll and there it was- not a picture, but rather a video. I quickly looked at the camera setting and it was still on video. I’m not sure how it was toggled from auto to video, but somehow in the exchange of cameras, video was selected. I was not to be undone by this and I knew there would be several people in FB world who would know how to help me. Within a few hours my friends came to the rescue and were able to turn my video into a picture. Thank you! Thank you Thank you! Toby Day was saved.

Third of all, this was my last day off before coming home. I used this time to sort and pack up my worldly possessions. How many t-shirts did I really need and how many could I pack? Did I really need to keep the socks the laundry turned pink? Should I send a heavy bag home US Postal and pay the weight or trade it out for something lighter, but same size in the suitcase; all very important questions. I found my space bags squirreled away under my bed and filled them up with long sleeved t-shirts, a sweatshirt, those lovely PT pants, one uniform, various t-shirts I collected and traded plus some miscellaneous items. It looks like everything will fit and I am living off of the basics. This is better than packing for vacation.

And if three reasons were not enough for a happy May 1^st, I confirmed on the manifest today our inbounds are in Al Udeid (IUD) and inbound to us shortly. And that my friends mean I am that much closer to being on the manifest out! If everything goes to plan and nothing ever does, once we leave, it will take us about 6 days to make the trek to California. We will have a long layover in IUD for several days and then we will catch our rotator home. When we hit the East Coast, I will have an overnight layover, but then it’s straight home. Well, straight to March to in process for a few days then home. If you count staying at March, it will be closer to 9 days from when I leave Bagdad to home sweet home.


I didn’t think the week could get much better; then it did. Most of our group had to move out of our CHU’s and into the transient tents to make room for our inbound replacements. I was fortunate enough not to move and was able to stay in place. When I learned Julie was one of the ones moving, I offered my extra bed up so she wouldn’t have to make the drag bag over to the tents. We had been roommates in Baghdad and this was a great reunion. We are on opposite shifts and do not see much of each other, but it’s nice looking over on the other side and seeing her stuff. It makes me wonder what I missed out by not having a roommate this time around. The best part is we both remember each other’s quirks and there is no adjustment period required. I came home early the other night and did some emailing and I remembered she liked to hear the clicking of the keys as it makes her sleepy. I typed away knowing I wasn’t disturbing her. Today, when I told her she laughed and couldn’t believe I had remembered. On a previous night, she came home early as I was getting ready and she had a cup of coffee for me. We make a good team.

Then there is the death of Bid Laden and as a Toby Keith song goes… “justice will be done”… and so it was.

A friend back home (Todd) has a brother stationed here and I was able to meet him. As luck would have it, Brian has been here the whole time and still has two months to go. I regret not meeting him earlier as he was fascinating to listen to. Brian is on the VBC side and works with the major players. His exposure and take on the bigure picture was captivating.

Everything is coming to a close as we have now transitioned the port smoothly over to the new group. I have left work early these past two days as TSgt Dixon has taken over the reins and is proving to be a capable Duty Officer. I have let go with a happy sigh. Today I sent a few emails to friends I have made asking to keep in touch. I have bequeathed my Sea Monkeys to Robin. I attended my last Top III meeting and watched a new person be voted in as the new Secretary. TSgt Duenas is putting the finishing touches on our unit “T” wall. All is well.


All that is left are a few last minute out processing items and our farewell pizza party. My bags are packed and we are forecasted to leave shortly with a very odd route to IUD. Let’s just say, I’ll be seeing some locations I saw on the last trip. This will be last post from Bagdad, but as we navigate home through a series of frog jumps, I’ll keep writing and post when I can.


                                                      Peace out Bagdad!

At Long Last

 April 2011

Happy Easter! I hope today is filled with joy and reflection as we look at what today means to each of us individually. This place gives you plenty of time to reflect upon yourself and to be alone with your inner thoughts, which at times can be very scary. I wrote this segment in my head last night as I couldn’t sleep and we will see how well I capture my thoughts in the daylight.

The end is in sight and my time here is coming to end. I have not written much lately, and for that I do have regret.  I have memories I will carry with me and hopefully not forget and by writing just a snippet, I hope it refreshes my mind as the years pass-Italian Compound, sunglasses for the scouts, sand storms, clicker nazi, Top III crack girl, coloring my hair, porta-pottie prank, Saying Goodbye, Girl’s Night Out/Dad- can we go, April Fool's, wind surfing, pool chick, Al Faw, to name just a few. With the good there is always the bad and I hope those fade like the pain of childbirth.

I have asked myself why I stopped writing and there were plenty of excuses, but one main reason when I was honest. I lost my way and the true reason why I write. I read a comment from a friend who very innocently wrote that it sounded like I was on vacation. After reading the comment, I began to censor my thoughts and began to doubt myself and my writing. I didn’t want to continue to give the impression this place is great and there should be a timeshare kiosk located next the exchange offering a free week if you buy now. I wondered if I was giving a false impression of what I was going through. Should I be writing about sitting on the floor with Bill on the phone while scared of the noises or would that upset those who read it and cause undo worrying? Would my frustrations with management and policies be taken as whining and would I lose autonomy if people in my unit and deployed with read this? When I took away the vacation highlights and put pen to paper, I was left with the negatives and that didn’t make for a very good blog entry either. What I should have done was continue to write and not given it a second thought. What I now realize is my blog is not for you the reader, but for me the writer. When I stopped concentrating on the positives, I stopped the way I process what I am going through. My writings and concentrating on the fun things help me breakdown and compartmentalize the bad things as well.

So, moving on…

The biggest challenge here has not been doing my job, but finding the motivation to do anything. In a word, this place SUCKS and is what I would call a life sucker. I certainly cannot speak for the entire unit, but the conversations I have had with various troops and fellow S/NCO’s leads me to this conclusion, it’s our own fault. A SrA said this to me this morning “It’s hard to be motivated when you have one plane all day and the biggest decision will be to choose a movie to watch.” Now this kid is one of the brightest and most motivating Airmen in the entire unit and he nailed it. Our unit just came off a very successful deployment in Afghanistan and we are used to working, working hard. We came here expecting to work and were deeply disappointed to find out otherwise. I truly believe we have a great unit and coming here was a mistake. Our expectations and level of expertise was our own downfall. There will always be ups and downs, but the little things become so much bigger when there is nothing else- idle hands become the devil’s playground-shift wars, squabbles, and laziness. Some people rose to the challenge and dove deep inside themselves and found their own motivation by participating in leadership classes, fitness programs, squadron activities and church.

From the very beginning, I tried to keep busy by attending Top III meetings and then being elected secretary, volunteering for the scouts a few times, teaching a block of the Professional Development Course and enrolling in Course 14. Hands down, Course 14 has had the biggest impact on me. If there is any positive to be taken away from this God forsaken place it is that, it has afforded me the opportunity to grow as a leader.

Had I taken this correspondence course while at home, I would not have had the same experience or learned nearly as much. The biggest benefit was having MSgt Abeto (Mike) take the course at the same time. We pushed each other not only to complete it, but to learn at the same time. We would finish a block and then have discussions on what we just read. We would talk about situations currently happening around us and how it related to a particular block of instruction. These daily interactions reinforced what we were learning. A few weeks back, I lost 3/5 of my team due to a rotation and I had just finished the team building segment. Although I have previously been a part of teams, this time I was able to stand back and watch the dynamics in a much different light. There were times in the first few days I wanted to jump in, but I went to Mike instead and said I almost blew it, they are storming and norming and I can’t meddle in this process. Mike laughed at me and we talked all about team building and the essential process.  I think there is always that one person on a deployment you click with and for me it is Mike. We have been in the same unit for over 8 years and I never knew him. Today, I call him friend.

Being a Master Sergeant this time around also has brought its own opportunities for growth. One weekend a month does not give much opportunity to be a mentor or to know people. While here, people have come to me for advice or sometimes to just talk. I have been learning the difference between the two and offering advice only when asked. I have learned quite a bit by just listening and giving a nod to continue. It’s funny, after 20 min of mostly them talking; they walk away and thank me for helping.

I’ve been able to practice letting go. The last time I really worked in an aerial port was in Bagram as a TSgt and info controller. Here, my role is Duty Officer and to ensure the process runs smoothly. It means staying in my lane, giving guidance and knowing the difference between my job and there’s. Not to say I didn’t run to an aircraft from time to time to help out, but I tried to practice the concept of trusting your people and not micro managing.

When covering management styles and different types of authority, I looked at the management around me and saw traits I didn’t want to follow and took away positives from others. I saw negatives in myself as the light bulb over my head lit up. Categorizing employees and identifying best how to motivate them was another ah ha moment as I saw myself in the scenarios.

I’m leaving ATOC a cleaner and better organized office, big surprise on that one. I chuckled to myself and thought of Donna Boston when Jerry said the snack drawers looked like the movie Sleeping With The Enemy. The only thing missing were the labels not being aligned. If binders were old or not used, in the trash it went. Bulletin boards were cleaned up and old papers put in the burn can. Hot water was made thru the coffee pot to mop the floors even though the next day would be a sand storm.

I cannot be any happier knowing our replacements will be here by the end of the week and I will be home soon. I have struggled this entire time trying to find the good and not be a Negative Nancy, but this place is bad.

I have included an older post I never finished and that explains the date difference.

This isn’t good bye yet, but my time here is coming to a close.

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10 Apr 2011

What do you get when you add one flat tire with a mix of alpha males? In my book, that spells classic entertainment.  MSgt Abeto and I were out and about on Sather running errands and yours truly was driving the karaoke mobile. The ATOC truck was named so, because of my tendency to sing and dance when driving and listening to AFN (Armed Forces Network.) If you have shared office space with me or been in the car while I drove, you too have experienced the karaoke mobile. We were headed out of the LSA (living quarters) when I heard a very loud woosh and knew instantly I had driven to close to some scrap metal rods on the side of the gravel road. Mike asked if I was sure and there was no debating that loud sound. I continued to drive forward to get closer to the main access road and get out of the way on the narrow road between the CHU’s. I wasn’t looking forward to changing a tire and hoped we could call the equivalent of AAA, Mobile Maintenance. Mike crushed my hopes and reminded me flat tires are the responsibility of the user.  Heavy sigh. It’s not I don’t know how to change a tire and I firmly believe every female should know the basic fundamentals for such occasions, but if other options are available, why should I?

Mike and I quickly found the tools behind the back bench seat. While he started with loosening up the lug nuts, I located the owner’s manual. Note to self- I would not have known to loosen the lug nuts first and I have squirreled that little fact away. He quickly jacked up the truck and was ready for the spare. I looked around the license plate for the entry point to insert the crank tool thing to lower the spare. I was quite proud of myself for knowing there was such a point of entry. Bill had changed a flat on our truck back home and that was the tid bit I walked away with from that experience. I was unable to find it on this truck and as Mike looked around unsuccessfully, I referred to the owner’s manual. There it was, plain as day next to the license plate where it belonged.

Mike started to crank down the spare and as it had begun to turn dark, I held the flashlight. As Mike cranked away, the tire never dropped. He yanked and pulled on it, but it only dropped a few inches and would not fully disengage. The mosquitoes now realized we were there and begun the appetizer course. I quickly put my blouse back on and squashed several flying around my head. I continued with flashlight duty, but no matter what Mike did, the tire cable would not dislodge.

Chief walked by us and asked if we were ok and Mike told him it was under control. I was a great flashlight holder and never offered advice on the situation. Mike kept at it and was convinced he could make it work. Chief walked by the second time on the way to laundry and stopped to help. He too could not get it to drop and then continued on his way to the laundry facility. About this time SSgt Delaporte walked by and asked what we were doing. I found it annoying as it was obvious what we were doing; we were not changing a tire. Delaporte was convinced one Chief and two Master Sergeants were obviously overqualified for the job and decided he would be the one able to drop the tire. I found amusement in the fact; he too could not get it down. Chief now walked by for the third time and sees we are still there.

The access road we are on is also used as the running path and many runners found it necessary to comment as they passed with such clever questions as “How many people does it take to change a tire?” As our group grew I was relieved of flashlight duty, I parked my bum off to the side and watched. There really was nothing I could add and figured this was a better alternative and provided the bonus of entertainment.

Chief left us and headed to a phone to call Mobile Maintenance as it was obvious at this point something was broken. Chief came back and said the Calvary was on the way. Mobile Maintenance arrived and they attacked our truck. One guy took off the tire with power tools while the other crawled under the bed and he was going to show us how it was done.  Chief looked over and saw me sitting outside of the activity and laughed. He later said it was quite clever of me getting a flat tire so I could watch all these men.

I think at this point Mike was feeling his manhood had been questioned. Changing a tire should not be this hard and certainly did not require the size of our peanut gallery. To his comfort, Mobile Maintenance couldn’t do it either and they even had power tools and a cool HMV out rigged with manly greasy tools. When they realized the contraption holding the spare must be broken, they slapped on the new tire they brought with them and told us to bring the truck into the garage.

We arrived at the garage and now a team of four maintenance guys all crawled underneath the bed and yanked, pulled, and pried at the spare.  The conclusion they came to was the mechanism was broken and a part had to be ordered for a proper fix. Short term fix was to cut the cable and throw the spare in the bed of the truck.  The karaoke mobile lived to see another day.

When we first arrived here, some of the guys found a little piece of heaven known as Happy Feet. For the first several months, that was THE place to go on your day off. Happy Feet is a little CHU located on the other side near the Taja grocery store, down a dirt road and tucked behind a car wash. You have to know where this place is or you will never find it. Twice now, Julie and I have been able to arrange our day off for the same day and have enjoyed a few relaxing hours pretending we were somewhere else.

Our first day trip begins by picking up our vehicle. Vehicles are a hot commodity here and in the past you were able to take a work vehicle if the mission supported its absence. Recently however; many of our vehicles have been turned into Vehicle Operations as part of our draw down. Now, when you want to leave Sather and need a vehicle, you put in a request a few days in advance and then go over to Vehicle Ops to pick it up. Julie and I check in with Vehicle Ops for our vehicle and I ask for the Ford Excursion with blacked out windows and various satellites antennas on the roof with satellite GPS. I see the Special Op guys driving them and so should I. Sgt Mackey instead offers the “exotic” Deer and not just any Deer, but the Super Deer.  Julie chimes in and says it’s just like the rental car places in the States; you ask for one thing and get another.

The Super Deer is one hot ride. It has upgraded stripes on the exterior sides and the dash is wood grain. The true selling point was the cassette player and red carpet interior; a true gem, this Super Deer. We headed out and Mackey yells after us “You can drive a shift right?” I learned on a stick and my first purchased vehicle was a manual Ford Ranger.  I’m feeling confident in my abilities. We throw our IBA’s (Individual Body Armor) in the back bed and we are ready! I put it in first and start the engine. BAM, Julie gets whiplash. I forgot to keep the clutch in. Silly me, I try again and now we are off. We stopped at the Exchange for something and when I start the truck, BAM, Julie gets whiplash. That darn clutch again. We head towards the Sather exit, made a right turn and headed out for adventures.

We stopped at the Mediterranean Café and enjoyed a meal that was not the chow hall. Our eyes were bigger than our stomach and ordered too much food, but it was great. We had lamb, humus, flatbread, pizza and things we had never had before. Time was getting short and we hated to go, but we jumped in the Super Deer. I started her up and BAM, Julie got whiplash. Why can I not remember the clutch?

We arrived at Happy Feet a little late, which was a bummer, but soon found out why appointments are hard to make. When you pull up and park in the dirt lot all you see is this little CHU with a sign and arrow. When you walk in though, you have magically been transported to another place. Soft music plays in the background mingled with the sounds of trickling water. The smell is not of dirt and sand, but rather the special scent only spa seems to have. The lights are dim with a sign posted please speak softly. Where have you been all my life?

The front receptionist is a blonde Russian gal who also gives facials. On a different trip, Edwards has one and is amazed. She walks Julie and I back to the massage area and these two little Korean women go to town on us. By time we are done, we have been bent and twisted like pretzels. My foot had still been bothering me at this point and she works on that for me and brings some pain relief. Our time is up and we must go, but we promise to return. In the background you can hear live fire and we are brought back to reality. With a heavy sigh, we headed back to Sather. Oh Happy Feet, how I love you and for those of you dying to know, no they do not offer Happy Ending.

Every time we stop and get out, we lug our IBA’s from the bed to the cab and lock them up. We don’t want to tempt some poor Army guy who lost theirs and sees our as an easy fix. It’s heavy, cumbersome and not really needed. I love outdated and unnecessary policies. We dragged our IBA’s from the cab to the bed and head for home, BAM, Julie gets whiplash. It has now become ridiculous.

We turn our vehicle in, check in with the UCC, return our IBA’s to our respective work centers and parted ways in happy bliss.

Just for the record- I have since checked out the same Super Deer and remembered the clutch every time.

Shades for Scouts

http://blog.ocsd.org/post/2011/03/08/Katrina-Faulkner.aspx

Purgatory

Its been a long time since I have sat down and wrote out my thoughts. Basically, I have been in a slump of sorts and just plain didn’t wanna.  I attributed it to mid deployment blues and had nothing nice to say, so I chose to say nothing.  I’m still in my slump, but I’m trying to pull myself up by the boot straps and snap myself out of it.

I had an epiphany the other night, this place is like purgatory; It’s not quite war and it’s not quite stateside. When you first arrive and become settled in, you think it’s not so bad here. Living conditions are great, there are amenities, activities to keep you busy and the workload is far from stressful.  Compared to my last deployment and the only deployment I can use as a gauge, this place is great.

Yes, the rains came and that was not the best, but you have to have something to complain about right? It has not rained since I washed the truck with rain water and would gladly take the rainy season back.  The winds came and replaced mud pits with dust bowls.

Maybe the winds made me a little crazy as they were horrible. We had days where the visibility was very low and the airfield was closed. You turn on the air-conditioner and the air taste like dust. No matter how much you clean, everything is dirty. You feel dirty. The constant noise and dust really bugged me. Had I been a farmer‘s daughter or wife in the 1930’s, I think I would have taken the family’s chicken ax to the family.

About this time, the façade started to crack and I realized this place isn’t that great. There are just enough amenities to lull you into thinking this a good deployment location (heaven), but the rules and restrictions (hell) are ridiculous. “They” want you to be mindful of situational awareness and to remember we are at war. Rules are in place for our safety and protection.  I can live with that, if I were truly at war and truly expeditionary. When the Army has fewer restrictions and you can order Taco Bell for dinner, it’s hard to see the value.  It’s limboland here, caught in the middle of two very different worlds.

It looks like the winds have stopped and we are experiencing warmer temperatures. I believe warm last a few days and quickly turns to hot. Warm weather has brought out the mosquitoes and strange ants with wings resembling termites. At night you can see bats flying around which I welcome as they eat the large mosquito population. Spring here makes me long to be home as the first few weeks of April is my favorite time to enjoy the backyard. I try very hard not to count my days and not think about the date when I leave, but I am looking forward to home more than I ever have before.

I have not been doing much on my day off other than just holing up under the sheets with a movie or book. I haven’t been going to the gym either as I have had a case of the lazies. I was off yesterday and took advantage of the time by cleaning my CHU. I swept my rugs, took baby wipes to the floor and night stand and cleaned my AC filter. The office sent two mini flower pot sets with soil and Forget Me Not seeds. I planted those and put a sandwich bag over the top to create mini greenhouses. I re-seeded my Chi Pet and hope all three sprout in the next week or so. After a new air freshener and a good dose of Febreeze, I’m ready to start my week with my new attitude.

Ode To The Ground Hog

I've been in such a slump

This place is a real dump

I have to disclaim

Each day is the same

I declare it's Ground Hog’s Day- Everyday!

Parkhov

22 February 2011

Have you ever had a project you thought was so overwhelming you were just frozen and couldn’t even begin? That is how I feel. Our tempo has picked up a little the last week and it has been a great excuse to not write. I’ve also been busy pursuing “professional” growth. I mentioned previously I was attending Top 3 meetings which are held every other week. This past meeting I ran for Secretary and was elected.   I’m sure my EM friends are giggling as once again I’m taking meeting minutes.  I'm also completing Course 14 which is as fun as walking over hot coals. Course 14 is required for promotion and is a web based course that will take my entire time here to finish. I have scheduled a test every two weeks and when I have down time at work, I try and force myself to click through the presentation.  It takes about a week to complete each block and I use the second week to click back through it and take notes. Gone are the days of the instructor stamping his foot on the ground to indicate “you might want to remember this point.”  Kudos for making us actually think as the questions are not simple either. It requires you to know the material and not answer memorized facts.  And lastly, I volunteered to teach a block of instruction for the upcoming Combat Professional Development Course, my block is Enlisted Heritage and is taught twice.  I have been reviewing the previous material and making it my own and doing research on the history of Sather. That’s me in a nutshell for the past few weeks and all of that has given me a great excuse to not tackle writing about my palace tour.

I have struggled with how to describe the tour and how it affected me and yet remain unbiased. My blog is not to share my political beliefs or to go on long rants about political parties, but rather my experiences being in a deployed location. It is not always easy to separate the two as my beliefs/values color my experiences. After much ado, here it is…

Once again my day off was cold and wet. I was hoping for cold and dry and I would wear my PT shorts and jacket combo.  It was cold, misty, muddy and required pants. Given I only have two choices, cammie bottoms or PT pants, you think it would be an easy decision.  Since it was my day off and I hadn’t solved my foot pain yet, I really wanted/needed a break from my boots. That left me PT gear. I have worn my PT pants 4 times my entire time in the Air Force and all of those times have been while I was here. I HATE these pants. They are known worldwide throughout the Air Force as MC Hammer Pants. I kid you not. The person(s) who created these pants and those who sat on the uniform board and approved them will have their own circle in hell dedicated solely to them.

Their punishment will be to wear them for all eternity and to hear the swish swish non-stop.  The jacket is doable and does it job. The shorts are bad and bunch up in the crotch for both men and women. You get used to seeing grown adults pulling their shorts down or sticking out a leg and giving a wiggle to get them back in place. But those pants…  All three pieces are made out of a hard nylon material that swishes when your legs rub. It doesn’t matter how skinny the person is, everyone’s legs rub and swish. You can hear people walking outside from the swish. Its been said you should be careful if running in them, because you could start a fire with the friction of the swish.  I broke down and wore them and regretted it the whole time. I should have just worn my uniform. Our Commander happened to be on the tour also and he looked at me and made the comment “I see your wearing the MC Hammer pants. I never wear mine.”  The shame of it all.

Edwards, Keoni, Young and I met at the Chapel for the group tour and discovered Chief Wood and our current Commander Lt Col Gonzales were also going. Keoni and I rode the bus with the other random folks while Young and Edwards rode with Chief and Commander.

Our first stop was Camp Slayer. Camp Slayer was originally apart of the Abu Ghurayb Presidential Palace and where we stopped was some sort of military compound area.  We all emptied out of the bus and started snapping pictures.

This mural of Saddam is the last known mural to have survived. We walked around and took random pictures of the buildings. When we first invaded this area these buildings were used to house our soldiers. You can still see remnants of our stay and see the primitive conditions they lived under before our camps were built. We were a mob of sorts and went wherever we wanted. I felt sorry for the girl leading the tour as we were her first group and didn’t listen very well.

We entered one building which used to be an Iraqi chow hall and started walking around the bombed out building. I started to walk into one area and the smell of urine was so strong I started to gag and heave. It once had been a bathroom and I don’t know if the lingering smell was from us or them, but it was powerful.

On the perimeter wall you can see target outlines used for practice shooting. The only problem was the wall faced Flintstone Village and live ammo was not authorized for fear of hitting the kids.  I haven’t been told otherwise, but I suspect that is not the true reason. I could be off base and giving to much credit to their military, but why would you shoot up your own perimeter wall? You can see from the pictures there is no berm, and the silhouettes are rather amateur.  Maybe it really was just for “dry” fire. 

We loaded up and headed to Victory Over America.  After the Iran/Iraq War, Saddam felt it was a victory as he was still in power and built the palace, Victory Over Iran. After Desert Storm/Shield, he used the same logic and declared victory over the United States and to celebrate his fine achievement, he then built Victory Over America over the previous palace.  The guide used this as an example:  close your hand into a fist, now cover your hand with your other hand, like rock, paper, scissors. This is how the two palaces are connected.

The second palace phase was never completed and two cranes are still positioned outside. It seems we asked the French if they wanted them back as they were the ones doing the construction and they said yes if we shipped them at our cost. As you can see, we didn’t take them up on the offer. It's also rumored we bombed the palace not because it was a target, but the name pissed us off.

Our group was led inside and we walked throughout the palace. The size is indescribable. The ballroom is the size of a football field and that is only one of the many rooms. To think this was built on the backs of his people is truly disturbing.

 During the onset of the tour I happened to be eavesdropping on a conversation next to me. There was an older man giving local history of the palace and about Saddam that was not included by our guide. I started chatting with him and was fascinated. He gave accounts on how the Iraqi people lived under the dictatorship and the fear they were ruled with. As we walked from floor to floor and room to room, he would give such insight. I was captivated.

Outside of the palace there were smaller out buildings off of the man made lakes and you could see Flintstone Village. He had his mother-in-law quarters built next to the residence of his main mistress. What a keeper that Saddam. In the distance you can see the “Perfume Factory.” This was the designated brothel for the Baath Party members.

Saddam wanted to be a permanent part of history and every building has his name or initials built into the structure. The balcony rail of his mistress’ residence is made of hearts with his initials linking the hearts together. In different rooms though out the palace are his initials in the crown moldings.

We loaded back up and headed to the Baath Party House. Walking through there was touching history. Dan Rather had his interview with Saddam right before the war in that building, it was the first building to be hit at the beginning of the war, it was used for torture and contained a movie house.  I talked earlier about the pool room and I was able to observe it for myself. It was very sobering. Rumor is when we arrived on scene after the bombing the last victim was still handcuffed to the pool stairs. Fact is what you see next to the stairs is human DNA and was lab tested. The stain has been preserved through the dust sticking to the matter. See the picture tab for pictures, could be graphic for some.

Reports state when we hit the Baath House, we missed Saddam by 20 min. The remaining members were watching Pretty Woman and the film was still on the reel rolling. 

My private tour guide made the trip. The canned script is very informative, but to hear actual accounts is so more real. After this post I will include the script as it has items I didn’t cover and is interesting as well. Do you think I can remember my guide’s name? I repeated it several times with care so I would not lose it, but its gone. I know he is Armenian/Greek, is an interpreter for us, previously was an accountant and lives in Pasadena Ca, has been working for us for 7 years and on his last trip home went to Napa with his son, but his name escapes me. He left one clue for me to follow, he hosts combat fishing trips on Sunday.

Yep, two weeks later I went combat fishing for two reasons; something to do and to get his name. And his name is Parkhov. Now what the heck is combat fishing?

Edwards and I headed to the chapel to meet the fishing group and we learned we were an hour early. With my ID in hand (this will become important) we headed back to our CHUs to wait. Our LSA area requires a special Sather Badge to enter. I like to think I live in a gated community. We have our own fire station and the guards are private security contracted from Uganda and wear their own uniform.  

Edwards and I go back to the chapel and learn the group includes us and two other girls; an all girls fishing trip with Parkhov as the leader. We jump in the van and off we go. It turns out the two girls are from Command Post which makes for an interesting dynamic. We work with them extensively as they call us on every plane with a 20 min out call and then a follow up call when it has landed. CP has direct radio contact with the pilot and will give us our download and we in turn will advise of what we are uploading. We have been having some communication problems lately as they have just gone through a turnover. It was good to find this out at the beginning of the trip and not the end. It was also helpful to put a face to the voice. Young and I had been talking about going over and introducing ourselves to get that personal touch going. We normally are collocated with them and not separate as we are here.

Parkhov took us over by the al Faw Palace which is another Presidential Palace surround by man made lakes. Al Faw is just around the corner from VOA Palace and not very far. How many palaces did this guy need? We park across the street from a hotel that is currently being used for visiting dignitaries. All of us girls grab some gear and head out to one of the buildings surrounding the lake. Parkhov points out varies buildings and what they are currently used for as he sets up our poles. It seems Iraqi fish like Cliff Bars, bread with cream cheese and coco puffs.

Parkhov assembled my pole and set me up with two fine blobs of peanut butter Cliff Bar and sent me on my way.  I looked at him and the reel and he realized I was not in my element. He walked with me to the water and showed me how to flip the little bar hinge thing and hold the line with my fingers, give it a quick snap of the wrist and let go.  Simple right? He cast off for me and walked away leaving me holding the fishing pole. I felt a little tug and thought I had something. I quickly reeled in the line and found I had whatever is green and grows in lakes.  Time to cast off for myself; I go throw the steps, hold my breath and snap my wrist. My line went high and to the right, right into a tree. Parkhov came over, cut the line and I followed him back to the table where he handed me another pole. He was very gracious and said I didn’t walk on my first attempt and it takes practice. I walked away determined to practice. I cast a few times trying to get the hang of it and my line tangled. I untangled it and tried a few more times. I tangled again and at this point I'm enjoying being out and near the water more than the fishing itself. I turn my pole in and decide to take a look at the hotel.

I open the front door and enter the lobby. It still has its original furnishings and is a bit worn, but even if it were new, the style is rather hideous.  I would describe it as the Easter Bunny meets French Baroque.   I headed back to the group.

By this time the sun was setting and getting dark. It had been a chilly day, but now was getting cold. I had worn a long sleeved t-shirt, sweatshirt, PT jacket and of course shorts.  I was freezing. We hauled the gear back to the van and discussed dinner plans. We collectively had wanted to go to the Mediterranean Café, but Parkhov was fundamentally opposed to the idea because it was ran by Turks. He was willing to take us though, but out of courtesy we decided to go to the chow hall. To me all chow halls are the same, but this one since it was on Liberty was claimed to be better.  We all pile out with Edwards and myself at the rear. I reach in my pocket for my ID holder and I cant find it. I check both pockets and nothing. Edwards goes inside to find Parkhov and get the van keys. I'm hoping as I reached for my reflective belt in my pocket, my holder fell out. At this point, I'm a human popsicle and I'm sure it was minutes, but it seemed forever as I slowly froze to death. Edwards makes it back and we look through the van, nothing.  I tell her she should eat and Ill wait in the van, but she sits with me as we wait for the two girls and our fearless leader.

Forty five minutes later, they came back. Miss Bubbly did bring me a to-go container which I said thank you for, but did not want to eat. The only thing on my mind was finding my ID holder. My military holder had my ID, Sather Badge, Eagle Card, random pieces of paper allowing me to drive, take pictures on the flight line, etc.  From my perspective it was either gone forever or in my CHU.  If it was gone, there was nothing I could do other than pay the piper (aka get my ass chewed) and replace everything. All I wanted to do was go home and check. Parkhov wouldn’t listen to me and Miss Bubbly in the backseat wouldn’t stop with the questions. Where did you last have it? Did you have it here? Did you have it there? How about…?? How about you shut your face, if I knew the answers to any of those questions, I would know where it was.  I didn’t say that, but really really wanted to. Parkhov insisted we go back and retrace every step in the freezing cold with a flashlight.  It was my problem and I was getting upset about not being listened to and rather than be bitchy, I shut down and stopped talking. I went along for the ride and tried to keep quiet.

We back traced every step I took and no ID. We finally headed back to Sather and I was wondering the whole time how that was going to work. You have to show your ID to enter Sather since it has it's own perimeter and main gate. Parkhov had the same question, but he said he knew how we could get around it. Parkhov was very creative and snuck me and the rest of the girls on without showing ID. All I'm going to say is he held the wire as we crawled under.

Once on Sather, he sweet talked his way on to the LSA and I checked my room. There it was sitting on my nightstand. I went back to the others to let them know and we all were relieved. The other girls actually said I had kept calmer than they would have, if the situation were reversed.

By this time I was starving and the chow hall was closed. The to-go container was looking pretty good at this point and I ate cold corned beef and cabbage in my room and was happy about it. The next day as luck would have it, I called Command Post for something and Miss Bubbly answered the phone. I thanked her again for the to-go as it had saved me.

I walk away with three lessons learned:

#1 Don’t talk when you are angry

#2 If you ask someone if they need help with a lost item and they say no, listen and don’t ask a bunch of questions

#3 Be nice to people as you never know when you will see them again.

When it gets warmer I might go combat fishing again, but I think I will bring a book and just sit at the lake and read or keep Parkhov company. I don’t think I'm cut out for fishing.

08-10 February 2011

08-10 February 2011

Before snuggling in last night and taking my Tylenol PM’s, I checked weather.com and was excited to see clear skies all week with no rain. We had rain 4-5 days ago and we still have rain puddles and mud pits to navigate.  I opened my door this morning and was met with a sheet of water falling from my door ledge. I won’t repeat what expletive came from this virtuous mouth. Running late, I grabbed my gortex jacket, left my flip flops on and headed to the restroom.  Big mistake, I should have taken the time for my running shoes. As I head towards the Cadillac, I slosh through the multiple lakes and my feet are now freezing and very wet.  After brushing my fangs and face I head home. More lakes and more frozen toes.  

I came with two pairs of running shoes; one pair I wear around base and the other, I hand carry to the gym and do a change over once inside.  My first week I made the mistake of wearing my good shoes to the gym and was embarrassed after my run to find a pile of dirt at the end of the treadmill. As the belt went around, dried mud from my shoes would fly backwards into a neat pile. That would also explain the posted signs of no muddy shoes in the gym. 

The rainy season has definitely hit Baghdad. On sunny days like today, I truly appreciate Operation Pimp My CHU. I leave my door open as much as possible when I'm getting ready in the morning for fresh air and it also gives me a chance to view my “garden.”

The gal before me had left a planter with faded flowers in it and I have augmented it with flowers sent from my Mom. I took empty water bottles and filled them with rocks and used these as vases. The vases I then crammed in the rebar loops in the mini T walls lining my door entrance.  With the addition of a bright green chair cover, I have my own oasis. I planted a Garfield Chia Head, but I have yet to see any sprouts. I'm wondering if the rain is keeping it from growing. I'm also told pink flamingos and a gnome are on the way. I'm very excited to see how my veranda will changes over time. One of the other CHU’s is now sporting a lawn flag and Julie has put out a wicker vase with silk flowers. It is on the silly side, but I do enjoy walking around my T wall and seeing this splash of color greeting me. We had mail call today and I was told I have started something. Edwards received skeleton flamingos and Austin now has a lawn flag as well. If you know Austin and Edwards, you know this fits them both perfectly. The other day, I had a late start which was lovely. I took advantage of the extras hours by enjoying the rare nice weather with a cup of instant Starbucks coffee on my veranda. It truly is the small things in life.              

I came home a few days ago to find a love note on my bed. KBR, the local contracting company, left a note stating they installed a fire extinguisher inside my CHU while I was out. I turned around and there it was, attached to the wall next to my door. It is the biggest individual  fire extinguisher I have ever seen. In the event I didn’t notice or maybe got lost in my CHU, they also installed a large reflective arrow sticker pointing to the extinguisher. Here is the best part, when I walked outside, I noticed all they had done was take the fire extinguisher from the outside and mounted it on the inside. Now there is a giant arrow pointing to a nonexistent extinguisher. I'm not following the logic on this.

We had our first unit BBQ and broke in the back patio area. We grilled hamburgers and hotdogs during shift change and we hoarded lettuce, tomatoes, pickles and sodas from the chow hall. The day before, me, Julie and Walker hit up the PX and the two grocery stores for last minute items. The PX carries a few items, The Palms has a small grocery and the Taha Mall grocery carries the most.

Walker had purchased what she thought was an apricot fruit roll up and I bought two bags of dried apricots from the mini grocery store at The Palms. On the way back to Sather, Walker unrolled her dried fruit and gave it the sniff test. She said it smelled funny and wasn’t sure about it. She tore a piece off and passed it up to Julie to try. I then gave it the sniff test and thought it smelled like rancid oil, much like when Crisco goes bad in my cast iron pots. I wasn’t about to try it and by this point, you know Ill try just about anything. Julie took a small bite and instantly stuck her tongue out and couldn’t get the taste of her tongue. Walker and I are in hysterics at this point. From the look on her face, it had to be pretty bad.

Later that night I was watching a movie on my laptop in my CHU and broke out the baggie of dried apricots. In the store I was fascinated the apricots were not Dole perfect and they looked very natural and something you would see from your own food dehydrator. If you grew up in the ‘70’s you know what I'm talking about as your mother probably dried every fruit known to man. In the dark I munched away and left just a few in the bag. The next morning when I reached for the bag I noticed bits of leaves and what looked like a bug stuck in one of the folds of the fruit. I still have one bag left I haven’t touched.

I'm always fascinated with the Taha grocery store and always seem to pick something up to try. On a previous trip I bought a box of sweets labeled Turkish Delight. At first this gave me flashbacks to Bagram where Ed Bobbet had Turkish Delight sent to him. I have to say, it is the most heinous thing I have ever eaten. It is some Irish treat Ed goes crazy for and has his family from Ireland send it to him. He didn’t have to worry about the shift eating it, as we all thought it was disgusting.  This Turkish Delight however reminded me of the jelly squares I used to eat from Sunkist and was eager to try. The only resemblance to Sunkist was that it was a jelly candy. The flavors were green, yellow, orange and pink. The only flavor I recognized was pink, which was rose water. I don’t like rose water. The squares were also covered in what I thought was powdered sugar, but it wasn’t sweet like sugar and was more like talc powder. Overall I can say I tried it, but the box went into to the trash.

I am very happy with the Turkish Restaurant and the brick pizza place. I wrote about the shared pizza earlier I ate with Julie. I would order it again, but I can’t seem to walk past the Turkish place without ordering, it is phenomenal. I have ordered the same chicken dish twice now which comes with yummy rice, tomatoes, and this lovely bread. I now order extra bread and a container of hummus on the side. This hummus is like no other and I could eat it plain with a spoon. I'm sure it is in its raw state and does not contain preservatives, chemicals, natural added flavorings and who knows what else we normally eat. This last time I ordered the chicken dish resembling a burrito with a side of hummus and bread. I was not disappointed. They have a lamb dish I ask for every time, but they never seem to have it available. At some point I hope to change it up a bit and get off the chicken kick, but it is a proven winner.

In the same area is a bakery I normally walk right past. This time I stopped in and discovered the equivalent of a macaroon. The day before I rotate home, I will have to buy the whole lot and bring them home in a zip lock bag. These cookies are rich, dense and with the perfect coconut flavor without being too sweet. I think it’s a good thing the bakery is far and out of the way, otherwise I would eat these everyday and come home looking like a macaroon.

The theme here seems to be food so I’ll go with it. I purchased a crock pot from Target and had it shipped directly to me. So far I’ve made AOR Queso, coined by Nick Botich from our Bagram trip and shredded chili verde. Whatever canned goods I can find, I dump in the crock pot with Velveeta cheese. Oddly enough its quite delicious and I get no complaints. After all, anything with Velveeta is good, right? The chili verde turned out very well. We had a pork roast in the freezer I thawed and put in the pot. I seasoned it with a misc. assortment of spices we have and added chow hall orange juice/drink. I'm going with it being more juice than drink, but you never know. Later I added a can of diced Ortega chili’s and a can of Herdez green salsa. That cooked a little more and it was ready. Walker made rice in a rice cooker plus she had lime juice. Those two additions made it perfect.  I'm hoping for reinforcements to make more AOR Queso and I'm going to tackle cobbler next.

Today was a sunny day and the rain had cleared. In its wake  were massive lakes. When I headed to the Cadillac, it was like jumping from lily pad to lily pad. Wooden pallets had been placed over the lakes to give us a path to the entrance. Yesterday was nearly impossible to reach the bathroom as it was surrounded by a moat.

When it rains, 4x4 posts are laid out for us to walk on, but they were actually floating when we stepped on them.   

Yesterday during the rain, Renee and I were out running errands. Our vehicle needed gas and the gas pumps are only open from 0700-0930 which is before our shift. I hate relying on the other shift and gave our friends at POL (Petroleum, Oil and Lubricants) a call. They agreed to sign out the key to us and off we went. We stopped at Comm and exchanged a radio battery and then went to Comm Focal Point to have one of our Motorola radios re-keyed. Then it was off to the pumps. We drive up and and get out of the truck. We both looked at the pump and wondered what the key is for. The hose/nozzle is not secured to the pump, but when you squeeze no gas. Our main office with the big wigs was close by and we headed over there. We stopped at a nearby electrical box with two levers that happened to have locks on them. We unlocked one and moved the lever in the up position and tried the gas. Nothing. We walked back to the box and I tried to unlock the other lever, but my fingers were frozen and they would not cooperate.  Renee thinking I was a dork tried the lock herself and realized it wasn’t me, but the cold. She gets it unlocked and flips the lever while and I  squeeze. Success, the little spin dial thing wasn’t turning on the pump showing how many gallons I was taking, but I could feel the fuel in the hose. When it spilled out, I figured the tank was full.  I admit, every time I take the ASVAB, Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery, I fail the mechanics and electronic portion. According to the test results, I'm not eligible to work most items requiring moving parts.  

Our vehicle hadn’t been washed since I arrived and it was a muddy mess. It was to the point, you couldn’t see out the side windows. Our power washer has been either missing or broken, so just how do you wash a vehicle? In the bed of the truck was a giant window squeegee on a long stick. I squeegeed the sides and rinsed the squeegee in the water puddles. I tried to loosen and wipe off as much mud as possible, but left quite a bit behind. Renee and I still had more errands to do and as I drove around base I would speed up as I approached the puddles hoping the splash would reach the sides and rinse the mud off. This was actually quite effective and as it continued to rain it washed the remaining mud.