New Years Eve is finally upon us. Today will be a day of barbecuing, watching movies, and counting down until 2009 arrives. As we sit beside a fire, the distant sounds of a re-enlistment can be heard. As the clock strikes midnight, we all shout “Happy New Year”! as the first person in the Marine Corps signs for four more years of service. Today is about thanks.
First, I have to give thanks to God for everything he has done for me. He has kept me safe not only during this deployment, but from the moment I was conceived some 21+ years ago. Though I’ve had some very rough times, close calls with death, and memories I’d rather soon forget, He has always brought me through. As 2009 has arrived, I know He will continue to protect me and guide me along the path He sees fit for me
I’d like to thank my mother for being the strong woman that she is. Her courage and commitment has shown me that anything is possible. She has molded me into the man I am now. Her continuous encouragement throughout my life has helped me become the leader I am today.
My son, although barely over a year old now, has been an inspiration to me. He is the reason I continue to serve. I fight for him today so he won’t have to fight for a better, safer tomorrow. In November 2007, he saved my life at one month old and or that, I’ll never be able to show him how much I appreciate it. I look forward to the day that I’ll be able to hug him, looking in his eyes, and tell him how much I love him.
To Andre Salles, the staff writer for the Aurora Beacon. Thank you for showing interest and support in my blog endeavor. What started out as a way for me to document my holidays here in Iraq grew into a months-worth of blogs read by people all across the nation. After appearing on the front page of the Sunday paper, emails poured in from across the nation from well-wishers and supporters. I cannot begin to thank you enough for all you have done for me.
To the people at Prisco 55 and Better Group, thank you for the care packages that were sent throughout the month of December. Although I haven’t had the chance to formally meet you, I plan to personally thank each of you once I make it back from the deployment. The items were well-received by myself as well as the men who work in the office with me. Psalm 91, a book that was included in one of the packages, was a true inspiration to me, a book that I recommend to any person of the uniformed services looking for extra protection while performing their job.
To a good friend in Austin, TX who has been a great deal of help during this deployment. The constant communication I’ve had with you via email has helped the days go by a lot smoother. The weekly thoughts you’ve sent have been an inspiration and have helped me in ways you may never understand. I thank you for being there for the good days as well as the bad that I’ve been here. God places people in our lives for a reason and I’m thankful that he placed you in my life.
To those who have lost their lives in this war, your sacrifice will not be in vain. We continue to fight here in honor of the price you’ve paid. Nearly six years after we officially declared war, we continue to serve so others will remember what you’ve given up for us. From the bottom of my heart, my prayers go out to your families and friends who miss you most.
Finally, to the men and women of the uniformed services, thank you for your continued service over the years. For some of you, this is your first trip to the sandbox. For others, this is the fifth. The time you’ve spent away from family and friends, the numerous holidays and special occasions you’ve had to miss, we all share that common bond now. We’ve grown to be a family, veterans of Operation Iraqi Freedom or Operation Enduring Freedom.
Now that 2009 has rolled in, this will be our year. Our year to make more change, our year to progress, and our year to bring home some of the troops from a long and painful deployment. 2008 has gone, here we remain. 2009 has come, here we remain. As the war goes, it is here we will remain. Until the job is done, until the last one comes home.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Day 30 - Remembering the Holidays in Iraq
Serving in Iraq during the holiday season has been an experience. Good times and bad, separation and closeness, victories and defeats. Many of the lessons learned will carry over into 2009 but the greatest thing I can hope to do is remember these lessons and take them with me throughout my deployment, my military career, and my life in general.
The old saying “Never judge a book by its cover” has never had truer meaning until recently. As mentioned several entries prior, I learned this through the contact I had with an Iraqi contractor. It was all sparked with a “thank you” and a hug. I’ve learned many things about the people of this nation. I’ve seen their reactions to terrorism on their soil and the glow in their eyes as they wish to rid their country of evil. I’ve known about multiple local leaders who meet with the military, who are willing to work with us, to make their neighborhoods safe for children to play outside. As with any nation, not everyone is a bad person. There is surely a select few of individuals who wish to commit acts of violence or break the law, but these actions do not define the nation as a whole. Its taken many years since the attacks of 9/11 of me to realize this.
I will forever remember those who I’ve worked with in the past months. A group of individuals who accepted me for me. Being the only Air Force person not only in the office, but in the building, I was not treated any differently because of the service I chose to enlist in. From the countless nights we’ve spent together to the days we’ve spent at the chow hall checking to see who would leave the table so we could all stack our empty plates on their tray. Working with all the services as well as civilians, I’ve been able to gain knowledge beyond my dreams that I would not have attained otherwise. For this, I am thankful.
Friends and family back home have been a huge support to everyone deployed. From people we’ve known our entire lives to strangers we’ve never met, they have shown that they truly care about the people who are out here. From the numerous packages that arrive in the mail daily to the emails that I see flash across computer screens, they have been here to support the Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, Marines, and civilians every step of the way.
As New Years is only a day away, I will be sure to make several resolutions. As we move into 2009, I will have a completely different outlook on the war, the people of this country, and the value of life.
The old saying “Never judge a book by its cover” has never had truer meaning until recently. As mentioned several entries prior, I learned this through the contact I had with an Iraqi contractor. It was all sparked with a “thank you” and a hug. I’ve learned many things about the people of this nation. I’ve seen their reactions to terrorism on their soil and the glow in their eyes as they wish to rid their country of evil. I’ve known about multiple local leaders who meet with the military, who are willing to work with us, to make their neighborhoods safe for children to play outside. As with any nation, not everyone is a bad person. There is surely a select few of individuals who wish to commit acts of violence or break the law, but these actions do not define the nation as a whole. Its taken many years since the attacks of 9/11 of me to realize this.
I will forever remember those who I’ve worked with in the past months. A group of individuals who accepted me for me. Being the only Air Force person not only in the office, but in the building, I was not treated any differently because of the service I chose to enlist in. From the countless nights we’ve spent together to the days we’ve spent at the chow hall checking to see who would leave the table so we could all stack our empty plates on their tray. Working with all the services as well as civilians, I’ve been able to gain knowledge beyond my dreams that I would not have attained otherwise. For this, I am thankful.
Friends and family back home have been a huge support to everyone deployed. From people we’ve known our entire lives to strangers we’ve never met, they have shown that they truly care about the people who are out here. From the numerous packages that arrive in the mail daily to the emails that I see flash across computer screens, they have been here to support the Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, Marines, and civilians every step of the way.
As New Years is only a day away, I will be sure to make several resolutions. As we move into 2009, I will have a completely different outlook on the war, the people of this country, and the value of life.
Day 29 - Air Force Red Horse
Living in a deployed environment, there are things back home in the States that we take for granted. The biggest of these things would be the luxury of a bathroom, let alone running water, in a building where you work or live. Every time we need to take a shower, use the facilities, or wash our hands, we have to trek outside to the nearest restroom, dubbed “the head”. During the day this wasn’t a big issue because the sun normally kept us warm. During the evening hours, many could be seen running from their rooms to use the facilities. It began a tough decision to make during the evening hours. “Do I really need to use the restroom that bad or can I hold it until the morning?”
The situation we were in was soon to change. As the Air Force’s civil engineers, better known as Red Horse, arrived to camp, they quickly began to work on installing a plumbing system in my office building. With local national contractors doing construction on the inside, Red Horse was outside digging holes and running pipes throughout all hours of the day during their short stint here. With the distinctive red hard-hats, they could barely be seen as they worked several feet below ground connecting water lines and clearing debris.
One Captain who I’d known since the “old days” at the dance nights was the officer in charge of the operation. As I returned from a meeting one day, I saw him in one of the holes, demonstrating his superior supervisory skills. After briefly conversing with him, he decided to show me that in order to be a good leader, you have to be able to perform the jobs of those who work under you as well. As he climbed into the seat of a Bobcat, all of the Airmen had their cameras ready and waiting.
After receiving a brief demonstration and a walk-through, he began to scratch away at the hole, clearing a path to the water main. Getting excited and into the motion, he accidentally hit a communications line and cracked the barrier. As soon as the crunch of the metal-on-plastic was heard, he immediately hopped out of the machine, laughing because everyone else knew the line was there except for him.
As he reviewed the photos and videos of his endeavor, he jokingly begged us to delete them from our camera. Good times were to be had that day. As he walked to inspect the damage, he slipped on the hole he just made, sliding into the several feet deep hole. Again, cameras were out and flashes were going off as we documented another memorable day.
In all, the Red Horse guys had worked several hard days to provide us with running water. Though their mission is not complete, they still work as fast and efficient as possible to give us a bit more civilization than what we were used to having. At the end of this mission, they’re soon to be going to another location to perform other various tasks and help others with the difficult transition from civilization to the barren deserts of Iraq.
The situation we were in was soon to change. As the Air Force’s civil engineers, better known as Red Horse, arrived to camp, they quickly began to work on installing a plumbing system in my office building. With local national contractors doing construction on the inside, Red Horse was outside digging holes and running pipes throughout all hours of the day during their short stint here. With the distinctive red hard-hats, they could barely be seen as they worked several feet below ground connecting water lines and clearing debris.
One Captain who I’d known since the “old days” at the dance nights was the officer in charge of the operation. As I returned from a meeting one day, I saw him in one of the holes, demonstrating his superior supervisory skills. After briefly conversing with him, he decided to show me that in order to be a good leader, you have to be able to perform the jobs of those who work under you as well. As he climbed into the seat of a Bobcat, all of the Airmen had their cameras ready and waiting.
After receiving a brief demonstration and a walk-through, he began to scratch away at the hole, clearing a path to the water main. Getting excited and into the motion, he accidentally hit a communications line and cracked the barrier. As soon as the crunch of the metal-on-plastic was heard, he immediately hopped out of the machine, laughing because everyone else knew the line was there except for him.
As he reviewed the photos and videos of his endeavor, he jokingly begged us to delete them from our camera. Good times were to be had that day. As he walked to inspect the damage, he slipped on the hole he just made, sliding into the several feet deep hole. Again, cameras were out and flashes were going off as we documented another memorable day.
In all, the Red Horse guys had worked several hard days to provide us with running water. Though their mission is not complete, they still work as fast and efficient as possible to give us a bit more civilization than what we were used to having. At the end of this mission, they’re soon to be going to another location to perform other various tasks and help others with the difficult transition from civilization to the barren deserts of Iraq.
Day 28 - Secret Santa
Over the past few weeks, several members of my office were sent out on missions throughout the Christmas holiday. One, in particular, had organized an office Secret Santa but because of her duties that took her away from camp, we didn’t feel right in taking part in the gift exchange without here being present. As the days after Christmas rolled on, they began to arrive one by one. When we received word that the final Marine was headed back, we began to prepare for the evening to see who would receive what.
Before we could take part in the gift-giving, she first had to open up all the of mail that had accumulated while she was away. Care packages from family and friends back home were stuffed into boxes. Unsure of what to do with most of the items, she began handing things out that she knew others would enjoy. Mike and Ike candy, books, magazines, decks of cards, even phone cards. As she picked through her pile, we all went inside to find the packages with our names on them and bring them out to the patio to rest underneath our tree.
Once everyone had retrieved their gift from their Secret Santa, we stood in a circle and watched as each person opened their gifts. Some were hilarious pranks, some were items that we had been watching at the post exchange, others were gifts that were surely needed in the cold weather. I received an Air Force hooded sweatshirt for nights we would go to the gym. The limited number of civilian clothes I brought along with me were no match for the brutal weather here at night. The sweater was sure to get much usage in the coming weeks.
The funniest gift was from one of the Corporals to a Lieutenant. While he was away, he has asked fellow Marines to get a gift for his Secret Santa. That was his first mistake. Those Marines found an image of him in full gear looking off into the sunset and printed out a poster two feet wide by three feet long. When the Lieutenant unrolled the posted, a look of shock and awe overtook here. The rest of us knew about the prank and forced ourselves to hold back our laughs as she stood speechless. Once we told her the story behind everything, we presented her with the real gift he had gotten for her.
Some of the other gifts included a hand-crafted wooden pig, stuffed animals, a shot glass and flask set, a journal, and a man-bag. Yes, a man bag. All in all, we made a good decision to put off our holiday activity until we were all together. For the majority of them, they had been together for almost a year here in the desert and they wanted to make this holiday season one to remember. Though I had only been with them for two months, they all welcomed me as the “Plus One” to their Marine Corps gatherings. As they will be leaving soon and other Marines take their place here in Iraq, I will definitely miss the good times that I’ve shared with them. From the early days of building our patio through the New Years holiday, we had grown close. The bond between servicemembers is greater than any bond in the civilian sector. I volunteered to serve these months in Iraq and if given the chance to serve with these Marines again, I wouldn’t hesitate to volunteer once more.
Before we could take part in the gift-giving, she first had to open up all the of mail that had accumulated while she was away. Care packages from family and friends back home were stuffed into boxes. Unsure of what to do with most of the items, she began handing things out that she knew others would enjoy. Mike and Ike candy, books, magazines, decks of cards, even phone cards. As she picked through her pile, we all went inside to find the packages with our names on them and bring them out to the patio to rest underneath our tree.
Once everyone had retrieved their gift from their Secret Santa, we stood in a circle and watched as each person opened their gifts. Some were hilarious pranks, some were items that we had been watching at the post exchange, others were gifts that were surely needed in the cold weather. I received an Air Force hooded sweatshirt for nights we would go to the gym. The limited number of civilian clothes I brought along with me were no match for the brutal weather here at night. The sweater was sure to get much usage in the coming weeks.
The funniest gift was from one of the Corporals to a Lieutenant. While he was away, he has asked fellow Marines to get a gift for his Secret Santa. That was his first mistake. Those Marines found an image of him in full gear looking off into the sunset and printed out a poster two feet wide by three feet long. When the Lieutenant unrolled the posted, a look of shock and awe overtook here. The rest of us knew about the prank and forced ourselves to hold back our laughs as she stood speechless. Once we told her the story behind everything, we presented her with the real gift he had gotten for her.
Some of the other gifts included a hand-crafted wooden pig, stuffed animals, a shot glass and flask set, a journal, and a man-bag. Yes, a man bag. All in all, we made a good decision to put off our holiday activity until we were all together. For the majority of them, they had been together for almost a year here in the desert and they wanted to make this holiday season one to remember. Though I had only been with them for two months, they all welcomed me as the “Plus One” to their Marine Corps gatherings. As they will be leaving soon and other Marines take their place here in Iraq, I will definitely miss the good times that I’ve shared with them. From the early days of building our patio through the New Years holiday, we had grown close. The bond between servicemembers is greater than any bond in the civilian sector. I volunteered to serve these months in Iraq and if given the chance to serve with these Marines again, I wouldn’t hesitate to volunteer once more.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Day 27 - Another General Day
Since being here in Iraq, I’ve been given several opportunities that I may not have received back in the States. I’ve had the chance to work with people of a different nation, work with people of different services, and work with agencies that you would normally see in an action-packed movie. Dining with General Petreaus seemed to be the highlight of my time in Iraq. There aren’t too many people who can say they were invited to have Christmas lunch with the Commander of CENTCOM. My deployment had gotten off to a great start. There was very little that could make it better – or so I thought.
A late day in December, I was asked by my supervisor if I would be interested in having dinner with the Commandant of the Marine Corps, another 4-Star General. He would also be accompanied by the Sergeant Major of the Marine Corps. Excited and honored, I accepted. Little did I know that I has less than an hour to get ready for the event.
After changing into a clean uniform and brushing up my appearance, I headed over to the bus stop to catch a ride to the other side of camp. After waiting for what seemed like hours, a bus finally arrived and I was on my way. Once arriving at the chow hall, I hurried inside to the table where several others were waiting. The visitors had not yet arrived so I was still in good shape.
Upon his arrival, he was accompanied by several others, ranging from 1- to 3-Star Generals, Colonels, and a host of other officers and high-ranking enlisted members. Sitting next to a Sergeant Major from Japan and across from the Sergeant Major of the Marine Corps, we dined while making conversation with one another. Ironically, the Sergeant Major to my right was interested in motorcycles and we had a rather lengthy discussion of bikes and riding courses.
After chatting for an hour and a half, well past closing time for the chow hall, we all lined up to get in a few group photos. Within 72 hours, I had eaten with two 4-Stars and the entourage that accompanied them. The best part – at both events, I was the only Air Force person. I felt the huge honor of representing my branch of service during the two distinguished visits.
As the days here have began to become routine, a visit from a high-ranking official is a welcomed change of pace. Most would love (or be afraid) to have dinner with a General but I looked forward to the moment… twice. Adding another coin to my collection, I’ve added another story to pass on to friends and family back home once I return.
A late day in December, I was asked by my supervisor if I would be interested in having dinner with the Commandant of the Marine Corps, another 4-Star General. He would also be accompanied by the Sergeant Major of the Marine Corps. Excited and honored, I accepted. Little did I know that I has less than an hour to get ready for the event.
After changing into a clean uniform and brushing up my appearance, I headed over to the bus stop to catch a ride to the other side of camp. After waiting for what seemed like hours, a bus finally arrived and I was on my way. Once arriving at the chow hall, I hurried inside to the table where several others were waiting. The visitors had not yet arrived so I was still in good shape.
Upon his arrival, he was accompanied by several others, ranging from 1- to 3-Star Generals, Colonels, and a host of other officers and high-ranking enlisted members. Sitting next to a Sergeant Major from Japan and across from the Sergeant Major of the Marine Corps, we dined while making conversation with one another. Ironically, the Sergeant Major to my right was interested in motorcycles and we had a rather lengthy discussion of bikes and riding courses.
After chatting for an hour and a half, well past closing time for the chow hall, we all lined up to get in a few group photos. Within 72 hours, I had eaten with two 4-Stars and the entourage that accompanied them. The best part – at both events, I was the only Air Force person. I felt the huge honor of representing my branch of service during the two distinguished visits.
As the days here have began to become routine, a visit from a high-ranking official is a welcomed change of pace. Most would love (or be afraid) to have dinner with a General but I looked forward to the moment… twice. Adding another coin to my collection, I’ve added another story to pass on to friends and family back home once I return.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Day 26 - Christmas Has Gone, Here We Remain
Now that Christmas has gone here in Iraq, things are sure to go back to how they were pre-holiday. Long work hours, no days off, and more urgent matters requiring urgent attention. What have I learned during my first holiday season away from home? What have I learned during my first holiday season spent in the cold desert known as Iraq?
The first thing would have to be the support of the American people. A nation of millions, split between those who do or do not support the war, all seem to support the Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, Marines, and civilians who serve here. I have received care packages and cards from people I have never once met in my life. These are people who care about the welfare of the troops who sacrifice not only during the holidays but for months at a time. A particular group of care packages that stand out in my mind the most came from a Girl Scout group back in my hometown. I had never interacted with these young girls, never heard a word spoken from them, never seen a smile on their face. But as three boxes were delivered to my office one early December day, it was apparent I would not be completely alone during the holidays. Filled with cards and goodies that would last me for weeks, I knew then there were people back home who really cared. To the girls of Prisco 55 and Better Group, I thank you for the kindness you have shown m this holiday season. Words cannot express how thankful I am to have made contact with you.
Another lesson I’ve learned here is how open the Iraqi population is to American culture. As I ride across camp on one of the several bus lines, American music is sure to be heard as the local drivers nod their head. Each driver has his own taste, be it rock, oldies, R&B, or Hip Hop. If I were ever looking to catch up on newly released tracks, it was sure to be heard on one of the busses throughout the day. The biggest indication of how the Iraqi people have accepted the American presence here – they’ve recently declared Christmas an official holiday. While sitting in the chow hall, it was on every news channel when the official word came down. Just knowing this occurred is a tremendous stride for the men and women who have worked so hard over the past few years. Being here, deployed to Iraq during Christmas as it happened, is a memory that I will have forever.
The final lesson that I’ve experienced time and time again here in Iraq – the importance of family. Yes, family we’ve all left behind in the States play a great role in our lives here. Bu for most, the family I speak of refers to fellow brother- and sisters-in-arms. From the moment our boots touched ground, we only have each other to depend on. Whether we’ve working side by side in an office, patrolling the streets, or sleeping two to a room, we have all become family. Evidence of this can be seen everywhere. When a Soldier needs a spotter in the gym, a Marine is happy to step up and assist. Went a Seaman needs help with a failing computer system, an Airman isn’t far behind with the right tools for the job. On duty and off duty, we have all become a family in this unstable, but improving, country. Nightly activities sponsored by different units promoted friendships, created bonds, and renewed once-broken connections. Here, we have no enemies amongst us. Every one is a friend – a brother or a sister.
Now that Christmas has gone and a year will pass before it arrives again, here we will remain until the fight is done. A slow process burdened with setbacks and challenges. We will stay here until every person comes home. He we remain through the hours of the night, the chill of the winter and the heat of the summer, rain or shine. Staying true to an oath we all took the very first time we raised our right hands, we serve with honor. Likewise, we are honored to have the support of a nation thousands of miles away. We will return home one day, arriving to groups with open arms and open hearts. Until that time comes, we will continue our mission that we have been sent here to do. Until that precious day arrives, here we will remain.
The first thing would have to be the support of the American people. A nation of millions, split between those who do or do not support the war, all seem to support the Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, Marines, and civilians who serve here. I have received care packages and cards from people I have never once met in my life. These are people who care about the welfare of the troops who sacrifice not only during the holidays but for months at a time. A particular group of care packages that stand out in my mind the most came from a Girl Scout group back in my hometown. I had never interacted with these young girls, never heard a word spoken from them, never seen a smile on their face. But as three boxes were delivered to my office one early December day, it was apparent I would not be completely alone during the holidays. Filled with cards and goodies that would last me for weeks, I knew then there were people back home who really cared. To the girls of Prisco 55 and Better Group, I thank you for the kindness you have shown m this holiday season. Words cannot express how thankful I am to have made contact with you.
Another lesson I’ve learned here is how open the Iraqi population is to American culture. As I ride across camp on one of the several bus lines, American music is sure to be heard as the local drivers nod their head. Each driver has his own taste, be it rock, oldies, R&B, or Hip Hop. If I were ever looking to catch up on newly released tracks, it was sure to be heard on one of the busses throughout the day. The biggest indication of how the Iraqi people have accepted the American presence here – they’ve recently declared Christmas an official holiday. While sitting in the chow hall, it was on every news channel when the official word came down. Just knowing this occurred is a tremendous stride for the men and women who have worked so hard over the past few years. Being here, deployed to Iraq during Christmas as it happened, is a memory that I will have forever.
The final lesson that I’ve experienced time and time again here in Iraq – the importance of family. Yes, family we’ve all left behind in the States play a great role in our lives here. Bu for most, the family I speak of refers to fellow brother- and sisters-in-arms. From the moment our boots touched ground, we only have each other to depend on. Whether we’ve working side by side in an office, patrolling the streets, or sleeping two to a room, we have all become family. Evidence of this can be seen everywhere. When a Soldier needs a spotter in the gym, a Marine is happy to step up and assist. Went a Seaman needs help with a failing computer system, an Airman isn’t far behind with the right tools for the job. On duty and off duty, we have all become a family in this unstable, but improving, country. Nightly activities sponsored by different units promoted friendships, created bonds, and renewed once-broken connections. Here, we have no enemies amongst us. Every one is a friend – a brother or a sister.
Now that Christmas has gone and a year will pass before it arrives again, here we will remain until the fight is done. A slow process burdened with setbacks and challenges. We will stay here until every person comes home. He we remain through the hours of the night, the chill of the winter and the heat of the summer, rain or shine. Staying true to an oath we all took the very first time we raised our right hands, we serve with honor. Likewise, we are honored to have the support of a nation thousands of miles away. We will return home one day, arriving to groups with open arms and open hearts. Until that time comes, we will continue our mission that we have been sent here to do. Until that precious day arrives, here we will remain.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Day 25 - Christmas Has Come
Awaking at 11am, I began to get dressed to head off for a lunch I would remember for the rest of my time in the military, if not the rest of my life. A few days earlier, I was asked to submit information on my job and responsibilities while serving here in Iraq. Not knowing the full extent of the request, I completed it and turned it in, never thinking too much about it. The previous day I found out that I would be a guest of honor for a very distinguished person – General David Petraeus, commander of Central Command (CENTCOM).
I had been one of ten individuals selected to dine with the 4-star General that afternoon. In all, there were six Marines, two Sailors, one Soldier, and myself. It was a huge honor to be selected to represent the Air Force here on this base for the high-visibility visit. Not only was this a success for the Air Force and my unit back home, this was a personal success for myself as well.
As the General entered the dining facility, surrounded by several armed military members, cameras began to flash. There were numerous photographers and videographers on scene, ready to capture every moment of the event. Walking around the table, he greeted each of us with a firm handshake, asking our names and where we worked. After being invited to sit, we were able to relax as he went around the table with questions for each of us.
Though I can’t go into detail about what was exactly discussed at the table, the one central theme most of us young warriors portrayed was how we celebrated Christmas in Iraq. For most, it was our first deployment. For others, it was their first time away from family for the holiday season. Varying in time, we were deployed between two and eleven months at the time. Some were weeks from going home. Others, like myself, still had several months ahead of them.
Seeing so many stars is an inspiring ordeal. Before me sat a man who had served for over 33 years, and was recently assigned the duty of the top commander for all of CENTCOM. Sharing his experiences, he divulged that he never believed he would make it to the rank he now holds. As he went around the table, there were a few of us who had aspirations to go from being enlisted to officers once we completed our bachelors degree.
Along with the General, there were also 3-Star Generals, 2-Star Generals, Colonels, and a host of other brass floating around, sitting within arms reach of us. As we dined and conversed, many made it a point to walk past our table to get a glimpse of what was going on, pulling out digital cameras to capture the moment as well. In an odd sense, I was not afraid to be in his presence. Yes, he was the one of the few people who could decide our future in Iraq, Afghanistan, and every other country covered in his command. At the same time, he was just that – a person.
After we had all dined on a great meal prepared by the dining facility staff, we stood next to the Christmas decorations to take several group photos. Before the blinding camera flashes took place, we were each presented with a General’s Coin. For those who know the tradition behind military coins, having a 4-star coin in your collection was something to be very proud of. As he stood splitting our group, five warriors on each side, dozens of photographer lined up before us, getting as many shots as they could before the General had to depart.
For Christmas, many will brag about gifts they received, compare monetary values, or compare presents with relatives and friends. For us here in Iraq, we had something to really brag about. We were serving a great country in a time of need, making the ultimate sacrifice of being away from loved ones, ensuring a better tomorrow. In the process, we also took home a coin that few can say they were personally presented by the Commander of CENTCOM. What a great way to spend a Christmas.
I had been one of ten individuals selected to dine with the 4-star General that afternoon. In all, there were six Marines, two Sailors, one Soldier, and myself. It was a huge honor to be selected to represent the Air Force here on this base for the high-visibility visit. Not only was this a success for the Air Force and my unit back home, this was a personal success for myself as well.
As the General entered the dining facility, surrounded by several armed military members, cameras began to flash. There were numerous photographers and videographers on scene, ready to capture every moment of the event. Walking around the table, he greeted each of us with a firm handshake, asking our names and where we worked. After being invited to sit, we were able to relax as he went around the table with questions for each of us.
Though I can’t go into detail about what was exactly discussed at the table, the one central theme most of us young warriors portrayed was how we celebrated Christmas in Iraq. For most, it was our first deployment. For others, it was their first time away from family for the holiday season. Varying in time, we were deployed between two and eleven months at the time. Some were weeks from going home. Others, like myself, still had several months ahead of them.
Seeing so many stars is an inspiring ordeal. Before me sat a man who had served for over 33 years, and was recently assigned the duty of the top commander for all of CENTCOM. Sharing his experiences, he divulged that he never believed he would make it to the rank he now holds. As he went around the table, there were a few of us who had aspirations to go from being enlisted to officers once we completed our bachelors degree.
Along with the General, there were also 3-Star Generals, 2-Star Generals, Colonels, and a host of other brass floating around, sitting within arms reach of us. As we dined and conversed, many made it a point to walk past our table to get a glimpse of what was going on, pulling out digital cameras to capture the moment as well. In an odd sense, I was not afraid to be in his presence. Yes, he was the one of the few people who could decide our future in Iraq, Afghanistan, and every other country covered in his command. At the same time, he was just that – a person.
After we had all dined on a great meal prepared by the dining facility staff, we stood next to the Christmas decorations to take several group photos. Before the blinding camera flashes took place, we were each presented with a General’s Coin. For those who know the tradition behind military coins, having a 4-star coin in your collection was something to be very proud of. As he stood splitting our group, five warriors on each side, dozens of photographer lined up before us, getting as many shots as they could before the General had to depart.
For Christmas, many will brag about gifts they received, compare monetary values, or compare presents with relatives and friends. For us here in Iraq, we had something to really brag about. We were serving a great country in a time of need, making the ultimate sacrifice of being away from loved ones, ensuring a better tomorrow. In the process, we also took home a coin that few can say they were personally presented by the Commander of CENTCOM. What a great way to spend a Christmas.
Day 24 - Half Day Hammock
On Christmas Eve here in Iraq, many people are looking for the day to come to an end. The majority of the personnel here have time off today and will probably have most of Christmas off as well. My plans for the day included sleeping in late, going to eat, working out, and calling friends and family back home once midnight struck here.
Most of my afternoon was spent alone in the hammock out on our patio. Supported by two trees above a pile of sand, I lay there reading a book that I received in a care package a few day prior. Psalm 91, which breaks down each verse of the chapter and goes into detail about how everyone is protected against every form of evil. Being deployed to Iraq, there are several different forms of evil that we can face here. Knowing that we are always protected against everything makes the days go by a lot smoother.
After sitting in the hammock for several hours, I decided to go into the office to make several calls back home. Earlier in the day during lunch, I was given several phone cards from Senior NCOs as Christmas gifts. It would not be long before I was putting them to good use. The first person on my list to call – my mother.
After getting through the operator, my mother answered the phone. Before I even had a chance to say hello, she knew it was me. A tradition my family has had for several years has been getting together on Christmas Eve to spend time together. There were several aunts and cousins there. As she yelled to the crowd telling them I was on the phone, I head a multitude of shouts from family wishing me a Merry Christmas. Stepping into a separate room, we chatted for about an hour, checking up on each other to see how things were going. During the middle of the conversation, she accidentally three-way called my brother. We spoke briefly before he had to go. My mother and I talked for a few more minutes before I got off the phone.
The next person on my list to call was my grandparents. Since being deployed, I had not spoken to them over the phone. After sending them a holiday card in the mail, she later sent me a letter from her and my grandfather. That was the extent of our conversations for the two months I had been gone. We talked about how this holiday season was the first time I’d ever missed both Thanksgiving and Christmas. She promised to send me the aromas of her cooking in a sealed envelop so I would not miss out on the great home-cooked meals. Speaking to my grandfather who is retired Army, he continually reminded me to keep my head down, pray, and make it home safely.
By the time I had gotten off the phone with them, it was after 2am in the morning… Christmas morning. After checking my email one last time, I called it a night, wishing all the other warriors who were still in the office making calls home as well a Merry Christmas.
Half days are very rare here in Iraq. Though we celebrate a holiday, evil never takes a day off. Though Christmas was only a few hours old, events were still occurring in my area of operations (AOR) that required attention. For some, they would not be able to enjoy these first few hours as there was work to be done. For me, I would remember my half day I spent in the hammock, making phone calls home. The next morning, I planned to sleep in.
Most of my afternoon was spent alone in the hammock out on our patio. Supported by two trees above a pile of sand, I lay there reading a book that I received in a care package a few day prior. Psalm 91, which breaks down each verse of the chapter and goes into detail about how everyone is protected against every form of evil. Being deployed to Iraq, there are several different forms of evil that we can face here. Knowing that we are always protected against everything makes the days go by a lot smoother.
After sitting in the hammock for several hours, I decided to go into the office to make several calls back home. Earlier in the day during lunch, I was given several phone cards from Senior NCOs as Christmas gifts. It would not be long before I was putting them to good use. The first person on my list to call – my mother.
After getting through the operator, my mother answered the phone. Before I even had a chance to say hello, she knew it was me. A tradition my family has had for several years has been getting together on Christmas Eve to spend time together. There were several aunts and cousins there. As she yelled to the crowd telling them I was on the phone, I head a multitude of shouts from family wishing me a Merry Christmas. Stepping into a separate room, we chatted for about an hour, checking up on each other to see how things were going. During the middle of the conversation, she accidentally three-way called my brother. We spoke briefly before he had to go. My mother and I talked for a few more minutes before I got off the phone.
The next person on my list to call was my grandparents. Since being deployed, I had not spoken to them over the phone. After sending them a holiday card in the mail, she later sent me a letter from her and my grandfather. That was the extent of our conversations for the two months I had been gone. We talked about how this holiday season was the first time I’d ever missed both Thanksgiving and Christmas. She promised to send me the aromas of her cooking in a sealed envelop so I would not miss out on the great home-cooked meals. Speaking to my grandfather who is retired Army, he continually reminded me to keep my head down, pray, and make it home safely.
By the time I had gotten off the phone with them, it was after 2am in the morning… Christmas morning. After checking my email one last time, I called it a night, wishing all the other warriors who were still in the office making calls home as well a Merry Christmas.
Half days are very rare here in Iraq. Though we celebrate a holiday, evil never takes a day off. Though Christmas was only a few hours old, events were still occurring in my area of operations (AOR) that required attention. For some, they would not be able to enjoy these first few hours as there was work to be done. For me, I would remember my half day I spent in the hammock, making phone calls home. The next morning, I planned to sleep in.
Day 23 - No Pain, No Gain
The closer it gets to Christmas here in Iraq, the faster most operations draw down, giving troops time to make calls back home or send emails to loved ones. After trying to connect to the base operator for several hours, I gave up on trying to call my mother and decided to head to the gym. It was a cold night, the perfect type of weather for lifting weights. Hopefully, the gym would not be crowded and I would be able to get in a solid workout. After taking my daily supplements, a Marine buddy and I headed off to the gym for two solid hours of lifting.
Each day, we rotate the muscle groups we want to target. This day, it would be chest – all chest. Going from machine to machine, free weights to free weights, there was little time in between for resting or conversing. Completing 3 sets of 15 repetitions each, we flew threw stations, adding additional weight to each set. Every machine we worked, I grew a little more sore, a little more fit. My body was beginning to tire as we approached the 2 hour mark of working out.
Our final exercise of the evening would be a wide bench press, immediately followed by a dumbbell press. With 45-pound plates on each end of the bar, a 110-pound dumbbell waiting at my side, I laid down and prepared for my final workout of the evening. As I pressed out the first few repetitions, I felt my right shoulder begin to give way. Moments later, there was a loud popping noise and an intense burning sensation. My Marine buddy, who was spotting me at the time, caught the bar as my arm gave way. Racking the bar, I stood up to examine the extent of the damage.
Hanging slightly lower than usual, my arm had dislocated out of socket. Walking to a doorway I quickly and painfully shoved it back into socket. As several people looked on, they noticed that I was doing something very odd to be in so much pain – I was laughing. Laughing has always been my method of dealing with pain. Against much discouragement from others, I completed my sets of lifting before calling it quits.
During the ordeal, I felt like quitting, like giving up then and there. I began to think about my fellow servicemen and women who were outside the wire. They may be under heavy fire, wounded and surrounded, but still find the will to continue on. There have been several instances where, against all odds, they have been able to conquer any challenge set before them. My dislocated shoulder was but a single tear drop in a sea of mourning. There will surely be times in my life where I’ll want to give up because of pain or an injury or overwhelming odds. The one thing I will not do, for as long as I wear this uniform, is ACTUALLY give up.
Walking back to my room for the night, I did something I had not done in a while: I prayed. Not for my arm to get better, but for those out in the field. I prayed that they would not give up the good fight, that they would not be overcome with feelings of defeat, and that they would make it back to camp safely. Though they may be tired, hungry, or injured, they have not given up in the past and I don’t anticipate they will give up anytime soon. Fighting this war has brought several heartaches and pains, but the outcome has proven to be great. As many gym buffs will tell you, “No pain, no gain”. This applies both to the weight room and life in general. Though full of aches and disappointments, the end result will prove to be great.
Each day, we rotate the muscle groups we want to target. This day, it would be chest – all chest. Going from machine to machine, free weights to free weights, there was little time in between for resting or conversing. Completing 3 sets of 15 repetitions each, we flew threw stations, adding additional weight to each set. Every machine we worked, I grew a little more sore, a little more fit. My body was beginning to tire as we approached the 2 hour mark of working out.
Our final exercise of the evening would be a wide bench press, immediately followed by a dumbbell press. With 45-pound plates on each end of the bar, a 110-pound dumbbell waiting at my side, I laid down and prepared for my final workout of the evening. As I pressed out the first few repetitions, I felt my right shoulder begin to give way. Moments later, there was a loud popping noise and an intense burning sensation. My Marine buddy, who was spotting me at the time, caught the bar as my arm gave way. Racking the bar, I stood up to examine the extent of the damage.
Hanging slightly lower than usual, my arm had dislocated out of socket. Walking to a doorway I quickly and painfully shoved it back into socket. As several people looked on, they noticed that I was doing something very odd to be in so much pain – I was laughing. Laughing has always been my method of dealing with pain. Against much discouragement from others, I completed my sets of lifting before calling it quits.
During the ordeal, I felt like quitting, like giving up then and there. I began to think about my fellow servicemen and women who were outside the wire. They may be under heavy fire, wounded and surrounded, but still find the will to continue on. There have been several instances where, against all odds, they have been able to conquer any challenge set before them. My dislocated shoulder was but a single tear drop in a sea of mourning. There will surely be times in my life where I’ll want to give up because of pain or an injury or overwhelming odds. The one thing I will not do, for as long as I wear this uniform, is ACTUALLY give up.
Walking back to my room for the night, I did something I had not done in a while: I prayed. Not for my arm to get better, but for those out in the field. I prayed that they would not give up the good fight, that they would not be overcome with feelings of defeat, and that they would make it back to camp safely. Though they may be tired, hungry, or injured, they have not given up in the past and I don’t anticipate they will give up anytime soon. Fighting this war has brought several heartaches and pains, but the outcome has proven to be great. As many gym buffs will tell you, “No pain, no gain”. This applies both to the weight room and life in general. Though full of aches and disappointments, the end result will prove to be great.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Day 22 - A Season to Savor
With Christmas being three days away, it was apparent that many here would miss out on the great home-cooked meals that had enjoyed in the past. I, for one, would miss going to my Grandmother’s house each Christmas and dining several times on the meal she had prepared for the family. She always provided a large assortment of food, especially for me since I eat very minimal amounts of meat. The things I miss most about her cooking was how she made her rolls from scratch. No recipe, no instructions, no prepackaging. Everything she had done was passed down to her when she was growing up, experimenting with the recipe to suit her taste as well as the tastes of her guests.
The experience here in Iraq with food has been hit or miss. Depending on the time you were able to go and get food, you either had a decent meal or the cold leftovers that most had picked around. But, in the holiday spirit, that all changed. The meal for the day was one to remember. Everything including but not limited to ham, turkey, dressing, several types of gravy, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, beans, corn, cakes and pies, and a large selection of drinks.
As I walked into the chow hall, the line was exceptionally long. There were civilians working who split the line into two separate lines to make room for the masses still entering the facility. Most of the tables were full, most of the staff working feverishly to replace food as it disappeared, and most of the people in the line were ready to eat.
Accompanied by the usual crowd I eat meals with, we stood in line wanting and waiting. We had sent someone to hold us a table while we contemplated on what we would be eating for the evening. The meal was surprisingly good and it was apparent a lot of hard work went into the preparations. Each table was lined with Christmas colors, adorned with candy canes and ornaments, topped off with bottles of sparkling red or white grape juice.
That evening we ate together, comparing the food here to what we would have enjoyed if back in the States. Looking around at our table, counting the number of completely empty plates, the meal was enjoyed by all. We made our way to the dessert bar and were confronted with one tough decision after another. Cake or cookies? Cookies or ice cream? Ice cream or pie? Knowing that we only have this opportunity when major holidays come around, we decided to combine several items. Cake topped with ice cream and chocolate fudge sauce. Ice cream covered in peanuts, caramel, whipped cream, and cherries. Pie with a dollop of ice cream covered in blueberries. Cookies broken into small pieces over two hefty scoops of ice cream.
Meals here are typically hit or miss. You either had a decent meal or the cold leftovers that most had picked around. But as Christmas grew evermore closer and the holidays were winding down, this meal in Iraq was definitely one to savor.
The experience here in Iraq with food has been hit or miss. Depending on the time you were able to go and get food, you either had a decent meal or the cold leftovers that most had picked around. But, in the holiday spirit, that all changed. The meal for the day was one to remember. Everything including but not limited to ham, turkey, dressing, several types of gravy, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, beans, corn, cakes and pies, and a large selection of drinks.
As I walked into the chow hall, the line was exceptionally long. There were civilians working who split the line into two separate lines to make room for the masses still entering the facility. Most of the tables were full, most of the staff working feverishly to replace food as it disappeared, and most of the people in the line were ready to eat.
Accompanied by the usual crowd I eat meals with, we stood in line wanting and waiting. We had sent someone to hold us a table while we contemplated on what we would be eating for the evening. The meal was surprisingly good and it was apparent a lot of hard work went into the preparations. Each table was lined with Christmas colors, adorned with candy canes and ornaments, topped off with bottles of sparkling red or white grape juice.
That evening we ate together, comparing the food here to what we would have enjoyed if back in the States. Looking around at our table, counting the number of completely empty plates, the meal was enjoyed by all. We made our way to the dessert bar and were confronted with one tough decision after another. Cake or cookies? Cookies or ice cream? Ice cream or pie? Knowing that we only have this opportunity when major holidays come around, we decided to combine several items. Cake topped with ice cream and chocolate fudge sauce. Ice cream covered in peanuts, caramel, whipped cream, and cherries. Pie with a dollop of ice cream covered in blueberries. Cookies broken into small pieces over two hefty scoops of ice cream.
Meals here are typically hit or miss. You either had a decent meal or the cold leftovers that most had picked around. But as Christmas grew evermore closer and the holidays were winding down, this meal in Iraq was definitely one to savor.
Dy 21 - When Life Gives You Lemons...
Life here in Iraq during the holidays has been filled with its ups and downs. What was once a popular nightly activity full of music and dancing was soon taken away. What was typical internet speed has been drastically reduced as people poured in on rotations to replace those leaving. Life had begun to sour here in the desert, covered in the lemon juice that is life.
Like the old saying goes “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade”, we have done just that. While walking from the restrooms I noticed a large group of people in the row of cans behind mine. Using sheets of plastic, duct tape, laundry detergent, and water, they had constructed their own Slip N Slide. Bringing back childhood memories of running and sliding into a large puddle, these Marines had made the most of the lemons they had been given.
As the sun began to set and the temperatures slowly dropped, most would think the crowd would soon disperse and seek warmth. That was not the case here in Iraq. More people began to show up, more soap was added, warm water replaced that which was once cold, and excitement levels continued to climb. Drawing random spectators and passer-byers to the fun, many tried their luck down the slippery lane. Civilians watched in awe as one by one, warriors took running starts to dive onto their bellies, sliding down the thin layer of plastic which covered the rocks below.
There were few cuts, few bruises, few who disagreed with the activity. As a Master Sergeant in the Marines walked past, he paused for a minute, shook his head, and continued to his room. Moments later, he returned wearing only his PT shorts and yelling “I’ll show you young bucks how it’s done!” As cameras focused on him, video recorders running, he not only slid down the lane, but off it as well. Hyped and excited, he immediately jumped up dissatisfied, claiming he had not slid far enough. He went once more, this time rolling off the end of the plastic. Covered in mud, slightly scraped y gravel, and covered in mud, he looked towards me and said “Marines can have a good time in any situation”.
As bodies covered in soap, overcome with laughter, headed to showers, the night was still young. There were many more activities to be had. Once the majority of the crowd returned, the BBQ for the evening began and food was provided to all who desired. Cameras were passed around as each of us looked on and laughed. This would be a night to remember, for we had truly made due with what we had, given our circumstances.
That month of December, life had given us lemons. We did what we knew how to do best – improvised and came together to turn those lemons into something more useful. No, we didn’t make lemonade that night. Instead, we made laughter, joy, memories, and more lasting friendships.
Like the old saying goes “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade”, we have done just that. While walking from the restrooms I noticed a large group of people in the row of cans behind mine. Using sheets of plastic, duct tape, laundry detergent, and water, they had constructed their own Slip N Slide. Bringing back childhood memories of running and sliding into a large puddle, these Marines had made the most of the lemons they had been given.
As the sun began to set and the temperatures slowly dropped, most would think the crowd would soon disperse and seek warmth. That was not the case here in Iraq. More people began to show up, more soap was added, warm water replaced that which was once cold, and excitement levels continued to climb. Drawing random spectators and passer-byers to the fun, many tried their luck down the slippery lane. Civilians watched in awe as one by one, warriors took running starts to dive onto their bellies, sliding down the thin layer of plastic which covered the rocks below.
There were few cuts, few bruises, few who disagreed with the activity. As a Master Sergeant in the Marines walked past, he paused for a minute, shook his head, and continued to his room. Moments later, he returned wearing only his PT shorts and yelling “I’ll show you young bucks how it’s done!” As cameras focused on him, video recorders running, he not only slid down the lane, but off it as well. Hyped and excited, he immediately jumped up dissatisfied, claiming he had not slid far enough. He went once more, this time rolling off the end of the plastic. Covered in mud, slightly scraped y gravel, and covered in mud, he looked towards me and said “Marines can have a good time in any situation”.
As bodies covered in soap, overcome with laughter, headed to showers, the night was still young. There were many more activities to be had. Once the majority of the crowd returned, the BBQ for the evening began and food was provided to all who desired. Cameras were passed around as each of us looked on and laughed. This would be a night to remember, for we had truly made due with what we had, given our circumstances.
That month of December, life had given us lemons. We did what we knew how to do best – improvised and came together to turn those lemons into something more useful. No, we didn’t make lemonade that night. Instead, we made laughter, joy, memories, and more lasting friendships.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Day 20 - Celebrating Another Year of Life
This day in December, as temperatures dipped down into the low-40s, we celebrated another birthday of a fellow Marine. His 36th birthday was spent in Iraq surrounded by coworkers and friends of multiple units. As the grill was fired up, our fire pit roared, we began another evening of festiities.
Different genres of music played on our audio system as we partied the night away. Grilling chicken, hamburgers, and hot dogs, accompanied by a host of snacks and drinks, we made sure his birthday evening would not be one of sadness. Sadness of being away from a wife and children back in the States, we did our best to ensure he did not slip into a state of regret for both his birthday and the holidays.
Throughout the evening, we all partook in salsa dancing, trying to learn the perplex movements. With an MP3 player, we were about to quickly select songs that would be appropriate for the evening. Listening to songs in both English and Spanish, heads were nodding and feet were tapping as people stood and watched. There were still a few people missing who needed rides to the event. This served as the perfect time to send him on a little errand so we could prepare for his surprise.
While he was away, we hurried to bring out his cake which had been made that afternoon. Using 550 cord, we hung up his piñata from a tree that was off to the side. Cards were passed around and signed by everyone while the finishing touches were added to presents. Knowing that he would not be gone long, we were almost caught as he returned through the back entrance.
As he walked down the patio towards the grill, his cake was waiting in-hand. Three attempts later, we were able to successfully sing “Happy Birthday”, overcome with laughter as he would dance to the lyrics of the song. After accepting his cake, it playfully met his face, coating his nose and lips in frosting. After cleaning himself off, he was presented with the multitude of cards that had gone around earlier that evening. Reading through each of them, he thanked everyone in attendance, helping to make his birthday one to remember.
The evening had almost come to a close when we decided it was time for him to take a swing at the piñata. Blindfolded, he spun around a bat 36 times, if you can call it spinning. Falling several times and laughing, it appeared he would have more fun spinning than he would swinging at the colorful race care suspended above him. After every swing he would fall to the ground, still dazed from the large number of spins he had performed. Finally getting the car to expose its goods, he jumped on top of it like a child, ensuring he had claimed victory. Shortly after, the night came to a close as many had to work the next morning. Leaving with hugs and handshakes, we were glad to be able to set up another celebration of life.
Different genres of music played on our audio system as we partied the night away. Grilling chicken, hamburgers, and hot dogs, accompanied by a host of snacks and drinks, we made sure his birthday evening would not be one of sadness. Sadness of being away from a wife and children back in the States, we did our best to ensure he did not slip into a state of regret for both his birthday and the holidays.
Throughout the evening, we all partook in salsa dancing, trying to learn the perplex movements. With an MP3 player, we were about to quickly select songs that would be appropriate for the evening. Listening to songs in both English and Spanish, heads were nodding and feet were tapping as people stood and watched. There were still a few people missing who needed rides to the event. This served as the perfect time to send him on a little errand so we could prepare for his surprise.
While he was away, we hurried to bring out his cake which had been made that afternoon. Using 550 cord, we hung up his piñata from a tree that was off to the side. Cards were passed around and signed by everyone while the finishing touches were added to presents. Knowing that he would not be gone long, we were almost caught as he returned through the back entrance.
As he walked down the patio towards the grill, his cake was waiting in-hand. Three attempts later, we were able to successfully sing “Happy Birthday”, overcome with laughter as he would dance to the lyrics of the song. After accepting his cake, it playfully met his face, coating his nose and lips in frosting. After cleaning himself off, he was presented with the multitude of cards that had gone around earlier that evening. Reading through each of them, he thanked everyone in attendance, helping to make his birthday one to remember.
The evening had almost come to a close when we decided it was time for him to take a swing at the piñata. Blindfolded, he spun around a bat 36 times, if you can call it spinning. Falling several times and laughing, it appeared he would have more fun spinning than he would swinging at the colorful race care suspended above him. After every swing he would fall to the ground, still dazed from the large number of spins he had performed. Finally getting the car to expose its goods, he jumped on top of it like a child, ensuring he had claimed victory. Shortly after, the night came to a close as many had to work the next morning. Leaving with hugs and handshakes, we were glad to be able to set up another celebration of life.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Day 19 - Until Every One Comes Home
The holidays here in Iraq have been full of new experiences, new faces, and new life lessons. One of the reasons many here continue to have the will to go on is because of the many men and women of the USO. A non-profit organization, they provide morale, welfare, and recreation to thousands working at hundreds of locations. Composed primarily of volunteers, they have worked through the cold hours of the evening to bring us entertainment on multiple occasions.
Dance troupes, singers, rappers, comedians, actors, sports athletes, all using their holidays away from family and friends to come and show their support. Whether inside a building with the comforts of heat or outside frigid and windy, thousands would line up for an evening of entertainment. Standing or sitting in close quarters, many would huddle up to see the acts performed as we would cheer.
Though there have been several events held here during my time, there were two memorable ones that come to mind. The first was a group of women performing under the name of “The Purrfect Angelz”. Based out of California, these women would travel the middle East bringing song and dance to many. Six women total, some who were making their first tour to Iraq while some had been several times in the past. As they would dance across the stage to patriotic tunes, the crowd would yell and shout, singing along every so often. Wearing outfits colored in red, white, and blue, as an American flag suspended behind them, we were reminded that we were here to do a job, to accomplish our mission. Afterwards, hundreds lined the aisles to get autographs and take pictures with those who had taken time out of their lives to come visit the troops of Iraq.
The second event that I’m reminded of was the comedy/country music tour that arrived here in mid-December. As we arrived to the outside stadium, the sun was still shining, bringing warmth with each ray. That would not last long though. As we waited for everyone to set up, the sun ducked down behind the horizon and the cold rolled in. Weather would not be a factor to turn us away from this evening. The show kicked off with four comedians, each making us laugh at our situation we were in. At the end of their act, they would thank us for our service. Following them was a song by a familiar actress who had starred on several hit television shows as well as in a recent movie. During her performance, some of the Soldiers snuck in a plastic blow-up doll, passing it around as a giant beach ball. Mid note, she stopped singing and was overcome with laughter. The crowd went wild as the doll floated from hand to hand. Continuing with her song, she would hit notes bringing a chill to the soul. Receiving a standing ovation, she thanked us for what we were doing as she introduced the next act.
Kellie Pickler, a young up-and-coming country singer, hit the stage as a mass of troops inched closer to the platform. As she sang and danced around the stage, it was amazing to see the number of cameras focused on her as I sat atop the bleachers to the rear. The continuous flashes and LCD screens focused on her showed the troops here supported her as much as she supported up. Inviting many to sing along, the crowd would yell the lyrics to “Red High Heels”, both men and women alike.
The guest of the night came out during the coldest part of the event – Kid Rock. Upon his entrance, the audience stood to their feet, applauding and cheering for several minutes, barely able to clap as hands were hindered by the effects of the weather. Performing several hit songs, each with improvised lyrics to depict what we were doing here in Iraq.
As he was due to exit the stage, the crowd, including myself, chanted “One more song!”. In the spirit of the holidays and with the hopes that we would all make it home soon, we were honored to have him Sing “Sweet Home Alabama”. One day, we all would be home again.
The performers who come through Iraq typically have busy schedules full of events. Performing one, two, or three events per day, they fly across the country showing their support to thousands of awaiting fans. Not only are we gone for the holidays, but as are they. Accompanying them, making these events possible, are the men and women of the USO. Without their efforts, none of this would be possible. This holiday season I am proud to serve in a time when many show their support. Special thanks goes out to those of the USO who will continue to give well after the holidays have passed – until every one comes home.
Dance troupes, singers, rappers, comedians, actors, sports athletes, all using their holidays away from family and friends to come and show their support. Whether inside a building with the comforts of heat or outside frigid and windy, thousands would line up for an evening of entertainment. Standing or sitting in close quarters, many would huddle up to see the acts performed as we would cheer.
Though there have been several events held here during my time, there were two memorable ones that come to mind. The first was a group of women performing under the name of “The Purrfect Angelz”. Based out of California, these women would travel the middle East bringing song and dance to many. Six women total, some who were making their first tour to Iraq while some had been several times in the past. As they would dance across the stage to patriotic tunes, the crowd would yell and shout, singing along every so often. Wearing outfits colored in red, white, and blue, as an American flag suspended behind them, we were reminded that we were here to do a job, to accomplish our mission. Afterwards, hundreds lined the aisles to get autographs and take pictures with those who had taken time out of their lives to come visit the troops of Iraq.
The second event that I’m reminded of was the comedy/country music tour that arrived here in mid-December. As we arrived to the outside stadium, the sun was still shining, bringing warmth with each ray. That would not last long though. As we waited for everyone to set up, the sun ducked down behind the horizon and the cold rolled in. Weather would not be a factor to turn us away from this evening. The show kicked off with four comedians, each making us laugh at our situation we were in. At the end of their act, they would thank us for our service. Following them was a song by a familiar actress who had starred on several hit television shows as well as in a recent movie. During her performance, some of the Soldiers snuck in a plastic blow-up doll, passing it around as a giant beach ball. Mid note, she stopped singing and was overcome with laughter. The crowd went wild as the doll floated from hand to hand. Continuing with her song, she would hit notes bringing a chill to the soul. Receiving a standing ovation, she thanked us for what we were doing as she introduced the next act.
Kellie Pickler, a young up-and-coming country singer, hit the stage as a mass of troops inched closer to the platform. As she sang and danced around the stage, it was amazing to see the number of cameras focused on her as I sat atop the bleachers to the rear. The continuous flashes and LCD screens focused on her showed the troops here supported her as much as she supported up. Inviting many to sing along, the crowd would yell the lyrics to “Red High Heels”, both men and women alike.
The guest of the night came out during the coldest part of the event – Kid Rock. Upon his entrance, the audience stood to their feet, applauding and cheering for several minutes, barely able to clap as hands were hindered by the effects of the weather. Performing several hit songs, each with improvised lyrics to depict what we were doing here in Iraq.
As he was due to exit the stage, the crowd, including myself, chanted “One more song!”. In the spirit of the holidays and with the hopes that we would all make it home soon, we were honored to have him Sing “Sweet Home Alabama”. One day, we all would be home again.
The performers who come through Iraq typically have busy schedules full of events. Performing one, two, or three events per day, they fly across the country showing their support to thousands of awaiting fans. Not only are we gone for the holidays, but as are they. Accompanying them, making these events possible, are the men and women of the USO. Without their efforts, none of this would be possible. This holiday season I am proud to serve in a time when many show their support. Special thanks goes out to those of the USO who will continue to give well after the holidays have passed – until every one comes home.
Day 18 - Memories Through Photography
As I look through my camera I purchased in Kuwait before moving into Iraq, I am overwhelmed at the number of photos I have taken. Hundreds of pictures and several videos. Each one tells a different story, highlighting a memorial day in my life that I will not soon forget. From training to gifts to parties to dances to team members, every picture captured adds another piece to the puzzle. This day, all these memories will be documented through photos.
(Photos will be uploaded to a central site once I make it back to the United States. If a book follows this blog in the future, you may also view them there as well.)
(Photos will be uploaded to a central site once I make it back to the United States. If a book follows this blog in the future, you may also view them there as well.)
Friday, December 19, 2008
Day 17 - Defending a Defamation
With a deployment comes many stresses unfamiliar to civilians back in the States. There are things we have to deal with and work through that many wouldn’t be able to comprehend unless they too were in the same situation. Times get hard and people may have feelings that they want to vent out. With most other situations, there is a time and place for this to be done. A prime example of where not to make such comments is in an office environment where many people try to promote the well-being and success of the Iraqi people. Not only does this prove to be harmful to the work environment, it tends to negate any strides we as a nation have made.
One day as I was sitting in the office working on a report as the individuals behind me were talking about an issue that had occurred not too long beforehand. For the privacy of this person, I will omit his name, rank, or branch of service. He had been deployed for 11 months and was weeks away from returning home. The entire duration of his time here, he had complained about why we were here, our mission that we were to undertake, and the way the people of Iraq were not worth our efforts. He had not been able to interact with any of the population, letting his biases dictate his judgements.
As they began to talk about the incident of the Iraqi throwing a shoe at President Bush, this individual began to go off on a rant. During this time period, he continued to say how the people of Iraq were not worth our efforts. Hurling insults and demeaning phrases just as fast as the Iraqi journalist threw his shoe, I began to grow agitated. We were in Iraq for a reason – publicly insulting the people of this country was not one of the reasons.
After a few minutes of letting his rants and raves continue, I took of my headphones and turned to the individual. Sternly yet respectably, I pointed out the errors of what he was doing. I let him know he was in no position to pass judgments on that Iraqi man, nor any other people of Iraq. Not once had he gone outside the wire to interact with the people. Not once had he been around a native of this country, listen to their side of the story, get their feelings of the war. His opinions were based on the information being passed around in the media. Working in the office we did, he of all people should know the vast majority of the information in the media being circulated is incorrect or full of biases.
As I laid out the facts of the situation, citing several references we both had access to, he gave me a look of disbelief. Once I was done, he turned to me and asked “Why do you care about these people? They haven’t done anything for you”. Little did he know the people of Iraq have been an inspiration to me. They had shown me things I would never have known prior to this deployment. As mentioned previously, I began to see them as people rather than terrorists. Not all people of this country are tools of evil as the media so often portrays them to be. Even in the US we have criminals. Does that mean the entire population back home should be frowned upon? Every country, every state, every person has their faults. This, however, is not grounds to judge the population as a whole. Explaining one of my encounters with an Iraqi, he began to understand my point of view, my stance, and what I based my judgments on.
Later that day, after quietly researching the information I had given him earlier, he came to me to apologize. Realizing he was wrong in both in information and his actions, he retracted all of his comments. Defaming a person based on personal biases or misinformation is, in my opinion, one of the worst ways to hurt someone, to hurt the efforts of others, specifically the mission of the US military in Iraq. Since the event occurred, he has been less eager to judge and more eager to research prior to making comments that would defame someone. With one person’s perspective impacted by my words and my actions, I feel as if my purpose here in Iraq is clear. Not only am I here to fight a war amongst thousands, but to spread the knowledge that many lack, promoting a better environment for all.
One day as I was sitting in the office working on a report as the individuals behind me were talking about an issue that had occurred not too long beforehand. For the privacy of this person, I will omit his name, rank, or branch of service. He had been deployed for 11 months and was weeks away from returning home. The entire duration of his time here, he had complained about why we were here, our mission that we were to undertake, and the way the people of Iraq were not worth our efforts. He had not been able to interact with any of the population, letting his biases dictate his judgements.
As they began to talk about the incident of the Iraqi throwing a shoe at President Bush, this individual began to go off on a rant. During this time period, he continued to say how the people of Iraq were not worth our efforts. Hurling insults and demeaning phrases just as fast as the Iraqi journalist threw his shoe, I began to grow agitated. We were in Iraq for a reason – publicly insulting the people of this country was not one of the reasons.
After a few minutes of letting his rants and raves continue, I took of my headphones and turned to the individual. Sternly yet respectably, I pointed out the errors of what he was doing. I let him know he was in no position to pass judgments on that Iraqi man, nor any other people of Iraq. Not once had he gone outside the wire to interact with the people. Not once had he been around a native of this country, listen to their side of the story, get their feelings of the war. His opinions were based on the information being passed around in the media. Working in the office we did, he of all people should know the vast majority of the information in the media being circulated is incorrect or full of biases.
As I laid out the facts of the situation, citing several references we both had access to, he gave me a look of disbelief. Once I was done, he turned to me and asked “Why do you care about these people? They haven’t done anything for you”. Little did he know the people of Iraq have been an inspiration to me. They had shown me things I would never have known prior to this deployment. As mentioned previously, I began to see them as people rather than terrorists. Not all people of this country are tools of evil as the media so often portrays them to be. Even in the US we have criminals. Does that mean the entire population back home should be frowned upon? Every country, every state, every person has their faults. This, however, is not grounds to judge the population as a whole. Explaining one of my encounters with an Iraqi, he began to understand my point of view, my stance, and what I based my judgments on.
Later that day, after quietly researching the information I had given him earlier, he came to me to apologize. Realizing he was wrong in both in information and his actions, he retracted all of his comments. Defaming a person based on personal biases or misinformation is, in my opinion, one of the worst ways to hurt someone, to hurt the efforts of others, specifically the mission of the US military in Iraq. Since the event occurred, he has been less eager to judge and more eager to research prior to making comments that would defame someone. With one person’s perspective impacted by my words and my actions, I feel as if my purpose here in Iraq is clear. Not only am I here to fight a war amongst thousands, but to spread the knowledge that many lack, promoting a better environment for all.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Day 16 - Conversation With A Contractor
Spending the holidays deployed to Iraq is something many members of the armed forces are currently doing. It has placed a distance between thousands of families. Not only do military members feel the disconnect caused by serving, but contractors as well. As I work with contractors and military alike, I began to notice their discontent as the holidays grew closer.
One event was with another translator that works in a nearby office. As he walked down the hall, head towards the ground and hands in his pockets, I noticed he wasn’t the same man I had seen so many days in the past. This day, he was grim. Now looking in my direction, I stopped just shy of my office door to talk with him. Normally the friendly guy who would walk into the office just to say hello or offer a handshake, it was apparent that something was troubling him.
During the course of the conversation, I began to learn why he was down, understand and relate to his situation. Three months prior he had filled out paperwork so he would be able to get a flight back home to spend the holidays with his family. Speaking in broken yet understandable English, he expressed his disbelief. Each day he had returned to the travel office, spending countless hours asking questions, only to return after being told “maybe tomorrow”. For months, that phrase would haunt him as each day he looked forward to spending time with his family.
Having just purchased his first house in his home-country, he was eager to spend his first Christmas with his family. Because he was a foreign-national contractor, his request for a flight was not as high as a priority as military members going on leave or on their 96-hour pass. Because he isn’t a citizen of the United States, does it mean he hasn’t sacrificed? Does it mean his worries and concerns bear less meaning than those of others? Since being here, he has been a hard worked, a go-getter, and a true friend. He deserves, much like every Soldier, Sailor, Airman, or Marine, the chance to spend time with his family when his time is due. This day, after three months of wanting and waiting, we come together to make he concerns known.
With several phone calls, emails, and personal visits to high-ranking officials here on camp, he is one his way home for a well-deserved three weeks. Strength in numbers has always been a key factor in winning any battle. That day, offices came together to accomplish the goal set before us. As he soars high in the sky for his trip back to his homeland, we all know that we did our part to ensure he could enjoy his holiday season. Although the remainder of us will spend our Christmas with each other, we put the needs of someone else before our own, demonstrating the true meaning of Christmas. This day wasn’t about receiving cards or care packages in the mail, hanging lights, or singing carols. It was about coming together as a team and, thousands of miles away from home, emphasizing the real meaning of the holidays.
One event was with another translator that works in a nearby office. As he walked down the hall, head towards the ground and hands in his pockets, I noticed he wasn’t the same man I had seen so many days in the past. This day, he was grim. Now looking in my direction, I stopped just shy of my office door to talk with him. Normally the friendly guy who would walk into the office just to say hello or offer a handshake, it was apparent that something was troubling him.
During the course of the conversation, I began to learn why he was down, understand and relate to his situation. Three months prior he had filled out paperwork so he would be able to get a flight back home to spend the holidays with his family. Speaking in broken yet understandable English, he expressed his disbelief. Each day he had returned to the travel office, spending countless hours asking questions, only to return after being told “maybe tomorrow”. For months, that phrase would haunt him as each day he looked forward to spending time with his family.
Having just purchased his first house in his home-country, he was eager to spend his first Christmas with his family. Because he was a foreign-national contractor, his request for a flight was not as high as a priority as military members going on leave or on their 96-hour pass. Because he isn’t a citizen of the United States, does it mean he hasn’t sacrificed? Does it mean his worries and concerns bear less meaning than those of others? Since being here, he has been a hard worked, a go-getter, and a true friend. He deserves, much like every Soldier, Sailor, Airman, or Marine, the chance to spend time with his family when his time is due. This day, after three months of wanting and waiting, we come together to make he concerns known.
With several phone calls, emails, and personal visits to high-ranking officials here on camp, he is one his way home for a well-deserved three weeks. Strength in numbers has always been a key factor in winning any battle. That day, offices came together to accomplish the goal set before us. As he soars high in the sky for his trip back to his homeland, we all know that we did our part to ensure he could enjoy his holiday season. Although the remainder of us will spend our Christmas with each other, we put the needs of someone else before our own, demonstrating the true meaning of Christmas. This day wasn’t about receiving cards or care packages in the mail, hanging lights, or singing carols. It was about coming together as a team and, thousands of miles away from home, emphasizing the real meaning of the holidays.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Day 15 - Season of Separation
This holiday season has proven to be one to remember. 59 days and counting since I was last back in the United States. So much has changed - I’ve made so many friends, left so much behind. One of the few things that has kept me going over the weeks has been those lasting friendships that have developed. We share a common bond – separation. Separation from everything we left back home. Friends, family, possessions…all of it gone for now, awaiting our safe return. This too, they have become part of the growing separations faced here in Iraq.
Several Marines I have worked closely with over the past two months received notice that they would be out on missions for the reminder of the month. Within a matter of short days, they had packed up and left, leaving behind the comforts they once enjoyed here. The rooms, although small and primitive compared to American standards, will be a luxury missed. The twin-sized beds and one power outlet will no longer be available. For these troops, home will be where they park their Humvees for the night. Whether sleeping in their seats as the engines run or underneath the chassis, bundled up and huddled closely together, they have been separated once again.
Not only are they out on mission, carrying full packs and burdened with 60 pounds of additional equipment, they are unable to partake in what we have worked so hard to accomplish. The patio we constructed now feels empty and meaningless. Our fire pit lacks several individuals who frequently stood beside it. The nights of playing Hearts under a full moon have dissipated. And why? Is it because we are here fighting a war that many do not support?
Do I support all of the decisions made by the President? In this day and age, very few are likely to support every decision made by a single person. But, as my Commander-In-Chief, I must obey the orders of him and the officers appointed over me. As over 150,000 troops remain in Iraq, with thousands more being sent to Afghanistan by the summer of 2009, more and more families will have to part ways with loved once. For some, they will be reunited in 4, 6, or 12 months. For others, they may never see US soil again. So is the way of war. Full of uncertainties, unforeseen circumstances. There is one thing that has been certain for me while deployed: late 2008 is a season of separation. As 2009 creeps upon us, it ushers in hope. The hope that these wars will soon end. The hope that families will be reunited with loved ones. The hope that those who have fallen in the line of duty did not fall in vain, that they will be remembered as heroes.
As of December 12, 2008, there have been 4,200+ Americans who lost their lives in the war in Iraq. Another 31,000+ have been wounded in action. Each one a brave man or woman of the Armed Forces, they have served their country with honor. They have done their part to ensure a safer tomorrow not only for the people of our country, but for the people of Iraq as well. For many months, they have worked tirelessly to protect the lives of millions while risking their own.
In the Air Force, we live by three core values – integrity first, service before self, and excellence in all we do. Being separated from family and friends is a hard task for anyone. Doing so while being on the front line, working multi-hour days with no down time is even harder. This is where the service before self comes into play. Putting the needs of the military and of the nation ahead of our own, we live up to this core value. We serve here with integrity day in and day out, performing our duties to the best of our abilities. We give our all during this tough season normally spent with family.
Though we have been separated, we are also united. Five branches of the military, multiple nations, officers and enlisted, active duty and guard and reserve, contractors and civilians. United we stand, divided we fall. Here in Iraq we stand united, on a camp with a population exceeding 15,000. There are not too many families who boast the numbers we have here. A family which is sure to grow and change in the coming months.
For my fellow Marines who have gone outside the comfort and safety of the “wire” to perform their duties, know that a nation is praying for your safe return. Know that thousands of brothers and sisters are keeping a watchful eye on your every move. From above we guide, from behind we follow, and from the front we lead, doing all we can to ensure your ultimate safety. During this season of separation, we do everything we can to transition into the season of uniting again as one.
Several Marines I have worked closely with over the past two months received notice that they would be out on missions for the reminder of the month. Within a matter of short days, they had packed up and left, leaving behind the comforts they once enjoyed here. The rooms, although small and primitive compared to American standards, will be a luxury missed. The twin-sized beds and one power outlet will no longer be available. For these troops, home will be where they park their Humvees for the night. Whether sleeping in their seats as the engines run or underneath the chassis, bundled up and huddled closely together, they have been separated once again.
Not only are they out on mission, carrying full packs and burdened with 60 pounds of additional equipment, they are unable to partake in what we have worked so hard to accomplish. The patio we constructed now feels empty and meaningless. Our fire pit lacks several individuals who frequently stood beside it. The nights of playing Hearts under a full moon have dissipated. And why? Is it because we are here fighting a war that many do not support?
Do I support all of the decisions made by the President? In this day and age, very few are likely to support every decision made by a single person. But, as my Commander-In-Chief, I must obey the orders of him and the officers appointed over me. As over 150,000 troops remain in Iraq, with thousands more being sent to Afghanistan by the summer of 2009, more and more families will have to part ways with loved once. For some, they will be reunited in 4, 6, or 12 months. For others, they may never see US soil again. So is the way of war. Full of uncertainties, unforeseen circumstances. There is one thing that has been certain for me while deployed: late 2008 is a season of separation. As 2009 creeps upon us, it ushers in hope. The hope that these wars will soon end. The hope that families will be reunited with loved ones. The hope that those who have fallen in the line of duty did not fall in vain, that they will be remembered as heroes.
As of December 12, 2008, there have been 4,200+ Americans who lost their lives in the war in Iraq. Another 31,000+ have been wounded in action. Each one a brave man or woman of the Armed Forces, they have served their country with honor. They have done their part to ensure a safer tomorrow not only for the people of our country, but for the people of Iraq as well. For many months, they have worked tirelessly to protect the lives of millions while risking their own.
In the Air Force, we live by three core values – integrity first, service before self, and excellence in all we do. Being separated from family and friends is a hard task for anyone. Doing so while being on the front line, working multi-hour days with no down time is even harder. This is where the service before self comes into play. Putting the needs of the military and of the nation ahead of our own, we live up to this core value. We serve here with integrity day in and day out, performing our duties to the best of our abilities. We give our all during this tough season normally spent with family.
Though we have been separated, we are also united. Five branches of the military, multiple nations, officers and enlisted, active duty and guard and reserve, contractors and civilians. United we stand, divided we fall. Here in Iraq we stand united, on a camp with a population exceeding 15,000. There are not too many families who boast the numbers we have here. A family which is sure to grow and change in the coming months.
For my fellow Marines who have gone outside the comfort and safety of the “wire” to perform their duties, know that a nation is praying for your safe return. Know that thousands of brothers and sisters are keeping a watchful eye on your every move. From above we guide, from behind we follow, and from the front we lead, doing all we can to ensure your ultimate safety. During this season of separation, we do everything we can to transition into the season of uniting again as one.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Day 14 - The First Phone Call
Being in Iraq for the holidays is always hard. Adding to the feelings of being alone is knowing that we here left all of our families and friends behind. Although we are here to a noble purpose, a calling many would not choose to answer, we do miss some of the things we have left behind.
As another nightly BBQ was taking place, I had completed all of my work for the day, I decided to do something I hadn’t had time for since arriving to Iraq. I dug in my pockets looking for a notebook with my calling card information so that I could call back to the States. When trying to decide who to call, only one name came to mind, one person who I missed talking to: my mother.
As she answered the phone, not knowing who was calling, I held back tears of happiness. It had been 56 days since I last spoke to her since leaving with four days notice for my deployment. Once I told her I was calling, she let out a loud scream of joy. Even with the few seconds of delay, the hour I spent talking with her was well-needed. Before getting off the phone, she continued to encourage me, tell me how proud she was of what I had volunteered for and what I had accomplished. The main thing she said was to continue praying. As we got off the phone, I headed to my room for the evening.
My mother is a strong woman. With three boys, she did everything she possibly could to make sure we were taken care of, to make sure we were protected. As times got hard and we moved around several times in the recent years, she continued to have faith that things would get better. She continued to push me so that I would be able to live a better life. When it came to choosing between her getting something she had saved for and getting something for her children, she would always choose her sons over herself.
When she first learned of my volunteering to come to Iraq with less than a week to prepare, she was furious. She was a mother who was going to lose contact with her youngest son. She would not be able to see me grow as she had in my earlier years. Those feelings of anger and outrage quickly turned to pride. For seven long years, she knew my dream was to come here and serve. She knew since I enlisted in the military I had been waiting to do my part. Now that the chance had been given to me, she was going to support me all the way.
They say it takes a village to raise a child. Personally, my mother was more than any village could provide; she was my world. Even though we had been separated since 2005 due to my military aspirations, we would talk constantly through email and on the phone. Very seldom did more than a day go by without us talking. She instilled the value of honor in me, one of the ways I choose to live my life. When I felt as if I had made a bad decision or needed advice, she was always there to comfort me, staying on the phone to talk to me as long as I needed.
Since being in the military, two significant events happened in my life that landed me in the hospital, one almost claiming my life. Each time, she had made a 1,300 mile trip in less than a day to be by my side. Staying until I felt I was well enough for her to leave, she would stand over me, sit next to me, talk to me, and pray for me. Whether she knows it or not, she has made a tremendous difference in my life. I am now able to brave dangers as I work in a country where violence is rampant. I know that wherever I go, whatever I’m doing, she is going to be somewhere thinking about me, waiting for me to come back safely.
A wonderful woman she is indeed. 57 days seemed like an eternity without being able to hear her voice. This holiday season in Iraq, I couldn’t ask for anything more. As long I was able to hear her voice, to laugh and joke on the phone as we had done so many times before, my holidays were complete. As many of the troops here wait for gifts and cards, I only await another night where I am free of work, so I can once again hear the voice of the one woman who means the world to me. I wait for the chance to enjoy one more phone call during the dark hours of the night so my mother can once again brighten up my day.
** Dedicated to S. Finley **
As another nightly BBQ was taking place, I had completed all of my work for the day, I decided to do something I hadn’t had time for since arriving to Iraq. I dug in my pockets looking for a notebook with my calling card information so that I could call back to the States. When trying to decide who to call, only one name came to mind, one person who I missed talking to: my mother.
As she answered the phone, not knowing who was calling, I held back tears of happiness. It had been 56 days since I last spoke to her since leaving with four days notice for my deployment. Once I told her I was calling, she let out a loud scream of joy. Even with the few seconds of delay, the hour I spent talking with her was well-needed. Before getting off the phone, she continued to encourage me, tell me how proud she was of what I had volunteered for and what I had accomplished. The main thing she said was to continue praying. As we got off the phone, I headed to my room for the evening.
My mother is a strong woman. With three boys, she did everything she possibly could to make sure we were taken care of, to make sure we were protected. As times got hard and we moved around several times in the recent years, she continued to have faith that things would get better. She continued to push me so that I would be able to live a better life. When it came to choosing between her getting something she had saved for and getting something for her children, she would always choose her sons over herself.
When she first learned of my volunteering to come to Iraq with less than a week to prepare, she was furious. She was a mother who was going to lose contact with her youngest son. She would not be able to see me grow as she had in my earlier years. Those feelings of anger and outrage quickly turned to pride. For seven long years, she knew my dream was to come here and serve. She knew since I enlisted in the military I had been waiting to do my part. Now that the chance had been given to me, she was going to support me all the way.
They say it takes a village to raise a child. Personally, my mother was more than any village could provide; she was my world. Even though we had been separated since 2005 due to my military aspirations, we would talk constantly through email and on the phone. Very seldom did more than a day go by without us talking. She instilled the value of honor in me, one of the ways I choose to live my life. When I felt as if I had made a bad decision or needed advice, she was always there to comfort me, staying on the phone to talk to me as long as I needed.
Since being in the military, two significant events happened in my life that landed me in the hospital, one almost claiming my life. Each time, she had made a 1,300 mile trip in less than a day to be by my side. Staying until I felt I was well enough for her to leave, she would stand over me, sit next to me, talk to me, and pray for me. Whether she knows it or not, she has made a tremendous difference in my life. I am now able to brave dangers as I work in a country where violence is rampant. I know that wherever I go, whatever I’m doing, she is going to be somewhere thinking about me, waiting for me to come back safely.
A wonderful woman she is indeed. 57 days seemed like an eternity without being able to hear her voice. This holiday season in Iraq, I couldn’t ask for anything more. As long I was able to hear her voice, to laugh and joke on the phone as we had done so many times before, my holidays were complete. As many of the troops here wait for gifts and cards, I only await another night where I am free of work, so I can once again hear the voice of the one woman who means the world to me. I wait for the chance to enjoy one more phone call during the dark hours of the night so my mother can once again brighten up my day.
** Dedicated to S. Finley **
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Day 13 - Desert Deprivation
All good things must come to an end. This is a well known statement, a part of life. Before making it to Iraq, this statement had no significance to me, having only applied to my life a few times to date. Today was one of those days. One thing that we Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, and Marines here cherish is the nightly club-style events that we have grown accustom to.
As I was in the morale tent checking email and sending messages to friends back home, I looked forward to the weekend because two of my favorite dance nights were approaching: salsa night and hip-hop night. As I closed out of the web browser and headed towards the exit, I noticed a sign taped to the door of the dance hall. “ALL DANCE LESSON CLASSES ARE CANCELLED”. Devastated, I walked to the counter to ask why. Even the civilian working was baffled as she felt dance nights were an essential and vital part of the base, giving troops a time to relax and remember a sparkle of life back home.
As I waited for the bus, I talked with others who stood close-by waiting, upset about the decision the base leadership had made. The ride back to work was a long one, full of disgust and disbelief. So upset about the situation, I hadn’t noticed that I had boarded the wrong bus and ended up on the other side of base that evening. With the temperature just about 40, I walked back, kicking rocks and playing with the charging handle of my rifle.
Back at the office, I walked in and told the others the news. In utter amazement, everyone began to question the decision…all but one. With a sinister smile, he stepped back to watch his frustrated coworkers throw a fit. As we were looking at the negative side of things, he was looking towards the future. He knew that we had been looking for a way to get more people to come out to our BBQs and movie nights on our patio. The sole reason we built it was because we wanted to build bonds and relationships with others across the base.
Once he revealed his ideas to us, everyone set to work. They began to compose a list to send out to all the close contacts they had across the base. Within minutes, we had organizations looking to donate food, drinks, and supplies for the upcoming weekend. They too were looking for an alternative place to hang out during the evening and little time we had to ourselves on the weekends.
After we had most of the arrangements, we began to send out emails to close friends that we knew. I compiled a list of friends in the Air Force while they worked on the Marines here. In all, trying to keep the list as small as possible to prevent our nights from being invaded and possibly shut down, 30 people were invited for the weekend.
Though the saying is true that all good things must come to an end, I was raised on another saying. God never closes a door without opening a window. Times seemed to be horrible as one of our only sources of enjoyment and entertainment had be abruptly taken away from us. At the same moment, we had been provided a way to keep spirits high for the holiday season. Now that our patio was complete, food and drinks were ready, and we had recently installed our projection screen, we would very soon bring joy and holiday cheer to many others. To celebrate our triumphing and plans for the coming days, we all went out to our little area, lit a fire, and sat down to watch another movie for the evening. That day, some tried to deprive us of what meant so much to many. That day, we denied their desert deprivation.
As I was in the morale tent checking email and sending messages to friends back home, I looked forward to the weekend because two of my favorite dance nights were approaching: salsa night and hip-hop night. As I closed out of the web browser and headed towards the exit, I noticed a sign taped to the door of the dance hall. “ALL DANCE LESSON CLASSES ARE CANCELLED”. Devastated, I walked to the counter to ask why. Even the civilian working was baffled as she felt dance nights were an essential and vital part of the base, giving troops a time to relax and remember a sparkle of life back home.
As I waited for the bus, I talked with others who stood close-by waiting, upset about the decision the base leadership had made. The ride back to work was a long one, full of disgust and disbelief. So upset about the situation, I hadn’t noticed that I had boarded the wrong bus and ended up on the other side of base that evening. With the temperature just about 40, I walked back, kicking rocks and playing with the charging handle of my rifle.
Back at the office, I walked in and told the others the news. In utter amazement, everyone began to question the decision…all but one. With a sinister smile, he stepped back to watch his frustrated coworkers throw a fit. As we were looking at the negative side of things, he was looking towards the future. He knew that we had been looking for a way to get more people to come out to our BBQs and movie nights on our patio. The sole reason we built it was because we wanted to build bonds and relationships with others across the base.
Once he revealed his ideas to us, everyone set to work. They began to compose a list to send out to all the close contacts they had across the base. Within minutes, we had organizations looking to donate food, drinks, and supplies for the upcoming weekend. They too were looking for an alternative place to hang out during the evening and little time we had to ourselves on the weekends.
After we had most of the arrangements, we began to send out emails to close friends that we knew. I compiled a list of friends in the Air Force while they worked on the Marines here. In all, trying to keep the list as small as possible to prevent our nights from being invaded and possibly shut down, 30 people were invited for the weekend.
Though the saying is true that all good things must come to an end, I was raised on another saying. God never closes a door without opening a window. Times seemed to be horrible as one of our only sources of enjoyment and entertainment had be abruptly taken away from us. At the same moment, we had been provided a way to keep spirits high for the holiday season. Now that our patio was complete, food and drinks were ready, and we had recently installed our projection screen, we would very soon bring joy and holiday cheer to many others. To celebrate our triumphing and plans for the coming days, we all went out to our little area, lit a fire, and sat down to watch another movie for the evening. That day, some tried to deprive us of what meant so much to many. That day, we denied their desert deprivation.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Day 12 - Learning to Project
Sitting around the table that cold December night we watched movies play on the wall. Distorted by every crack, every crevice, we could no longer take the unbearable pain. We decided to do what we know best: improvise. Scrounging through a storage room full of things we weren’t using, we stumbled across an old yet useful projection screen. Was this screen, gently used and covered in dust, what we had been searching for?
In the hours of darkness, while everyone else was away preparing for another day’s work, we began yet another project that would bring cheer to all for the holiday season. Carrying the screen out to the patio, careful not to drag it as others were still in the building working on last-minute tasks, we managed to maneuver it around a tight corner and finally outside. The easy part was done as the real work lay ahead.
As two men held the screen in place over the doorway, another began to hammer away. Clinking in the middle of the night, the sound of metal striking metal in a combat zone is one to be feared. Several times the door flung open as curious ears inquired. Marveling at the work we’d put into our area, a few offered helping hands. A Christmas tree adorned with lights was our only source of brightness. Long colorful shadows were cast as each of us worked, shivering slightly because of the weather.
After driving four nails through the rungs of the screen, deep into the slab of concrete above the door, our endeavor came to an end in an hours time. Satisfied, we decided on a movie for the remainder of the night, testing our craftsmanship. Saving Private Ryan. Classic war movie about friendship and brotherhood during times of war.
As the movie played seamlessly, I began to think, gazing off as sand blew lightly in the wind. This projection screen symbolized a lot of things going on in our lives at that time. As people were due to rotate out and be replaced by a new bunch of people, things would not run as smooth as they had for the past two months. Every flaw in our operation, every hindrance would be noticed. Having to start over from step one, helping others learn the processes and techniques used to do our job, would be a long and repetitive journey. As with the movie being projected on the wall, we would all have to come together and work as a team to find a solution to all of our issues.
Although some expressed interest in extending beyond their original date of departure, the majority would be going back to families and friends shortly after the holiday season. Those who remained would be the foundation for those due to arrive. I would be the bridge between the two groups, having learned the jobs of many over the course of my time in Iraq. I would be the voice to others, both junior and senior personnel, imparting the knowledge passed on to me prior to their arrival. The way I communicated would be key to our success or failure as a unit.
For now, we are the movie playing on the screen above a newly constructed patio. In a few months time, we would be back at square one. A group of people who may not have ever worked together learning to communicate with one another. We would have to learn how to notice every fault and attack it as a team, looking for alternative solutions until we arrived at an agreement.
As the movie continued to play and I rejoined reality, it became clear. I would be a leader during this transition phase approaching. I would have to step up and take responsibilities normally not given to me. A new year approached, a new assortment of troops awaiting their time to do their part in the war. I would need to be the solution we devised that holiday season night, learning to project knowledge and insight to the future protectors of our great nation.
In the hours of darkness, while everyone else was away preparing for another day’s work, we began yet another project that would bring cheer to all for the holiday season. Carrying the screen out to the patio, careful not to drag it as others were still in the building working on last-minute tasks, we managed to maneuver it around a tight corner and finally outside. The easy part was done as the real work lay ahead.
As two men held the screen in place over the doorway, another began to hammer away. Clinking in the middle of the night, the sound of metal striking metal in a combat zone is one to be feared. Several times the door flung open as curious ears inquired. Marveling at the work we’d put into our area, a few offered helping hands. A Christmas tree adorned with lights was our only source of brightness. Long colorful shadows were cast as each of us worked, shivering slightly because of the weather.
After driving four nails through the rungs of the screen, deep into the slab of concrete above the door, our endeavor came to an end in an hours time. Satisfied, we decided on a movie for the remainder of the night, testing our craftsmanship. Saving Private Ryan. Classic war movie about friendship and brotherhood during times of war.
As the movie played seamlessly, I began to think, gazing off as sand blew lightly in the wind. This projection screen symbolized a lot of things going on in our lives at that time. As people were due to rotate out and be replaced by a new bunch of people, things would not run as smooth as they had for the past two months. Every flaw in our operation, every hindrance would be noticed. Having to start over from step one, helping others learn the processes and techniques used to do our job, would be a long and repetitive journey. As with the movie being projected on the wall, we would all have to come together and work as a team to find a solution to all of our issues.
Although some expressed interest in extending beyond their original date of departure, the majority would be going back to families and friends shortly after the holiday season. Those who remained would be the foundation for those due to arrive. I would be the bridge between the two groups, having learned the jobs of many over the course of my time in Iraq. I would be the voice to others, both junior and senior personnel, imparting the knowledge passed on to me prior to their arrival. The way I communicated would be key to our success or failure as a unit.
For now, we are the movie playing on the screen above a newly constructed patio. In a few months time, we would be back at square one. A group of people who may not have ever worked together learning to communicate with one another. We would have to learn how to notice every fault and attack it as a team, looking for alternative solutions until we arrived at an agreement.
As the movie continued to play and I rejoined reality, it became clear. I would be a leader during this transition phase approaching. I would have to step up and take responsibilities normally not given to me. A new year approached, a new assortment of troops awaiting their time to do their part in the war. I would need to be the solution we devised that holiday season night, learning to project knowledge and insight to the future protectors of our great nation.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Day 11 - Stockpiles of Stocking Stuffers
As another day inches past, more people here anxiously await Christmas. Boxes continue to arrive full of decorations. Aisles are emptied daily at the exchange as people rush to do last minute shopping, searching for that perfect gift for a loved one. Here where I work, the vast majority of us have completed our shopping for others. There has been one goal on our mind for the past month or so: stockpile as much as possible for the day of celebration.
Each day we attend chow, bottles of sparkling grape juice were handed out. With a sign posted reading “Please Take Only Two”, we did just that…each. As we traveled back to our makeshift patio, we’d receive looks and comments from others. “Looks like someone is about to have a party” someone would say as they passed us by. 10 bottles between five of us, we were well on our way to a festive event.
Back in the comforts of our “E-Club”, we would unload our bottles carefully into awaiting coolers packed with ice. An assortment of flavors to suit just about any taste. Grape, white grape, even diet, graced us with their presence. As alcohol is not permitted here and most likely won’t be lifted for the holiday, we prepare for the worst case scenario.
Juice hasn’t been the only items we’ve stockpiled over the past few weeks. With any great celebration, there are going to be lots of hungry guests to feed. Plates and cups gathered in our office, napkins sitting on top. Each trip to the exchange brought us one item closer, helped us check off one more necessity. Unopened herbs and spices rested inside an empty shoebox, creatively labeled by other members of the office. Homemade rubs to flavor the steaks, which were due to arrive in the coming days.
Our pending celebration was not only about food and drinks. Uploading movies to external hard drives and creating playlists on MP3 players, we ensured there would be continuous entertainment for all. Additional card tables had been purchased, extra chairs rolled outside. For those who enjoyed the occasional tobacco product, we’d even designated an area laden with ashtrays and a fire extinguisher, just to be on the safe side.
A friend had sent me an email saying she would be spending the holidays with her father who was coming in from out of town. Her plan was to have the week off, relax, and enjoy her time with her family. As there are no holidays here, no days off, I felt slightly down about my situation. This holiday season would be the first time since enlisting in the military that I would be away from my family. Every other year I would save my vacation time until December, anticipating going home for two of the greatest weeks of the year. This year would be different. Not only was there the physical separation by distance, there was the emotional separation as well. Would I miss those holiday cards and “Merry Christmas” wishes I had grown accustom to over my few years of being on this Earth?
In a short moment, I realized that I was not alone. Much like myself, everyone else here also felt the strain of being away from home on the holidays. The positive side to this was that we were not alone as we had all become a family. We’d worked together, bunked together, dined together, and played together. For hours every day, we were in close proximity to one another. Indeed, we had grown into a strange yet successful and accomplished family. This holiday season, as we stockpiled supplies and stocking stuffers, we take a moment to realize that we are not alone in this time of celebration. We take a moment to be thankful for what we have here now, what we have already been blessed with, and what we have to look forward to in the coming months.
Each day we attend chow, bottles of sparkling grape juice were handed out. With a sign posted reading “Please Take Only Two”, we did just that…each. As we traveled back to our makeshift patio, we’d receive looks and comments from others. “Looks like someone is about to have a party” someone would say as they passed us by. 10 bottles between five of us, we were well on our way to a festive event.
Back in the comforts of our “E-Club”, we would unload our bottles carefully into awaiting coolers packed with ice. An assortment of flavors to suit just about any taste. Grape, white grape, even diet, graced us with their presence. As alcohol is not permitted here and most likely won’t be lifted for the holiday, we prepare for the worst case scenario.
Juice hasn’t been the only items we’ve stockpiled over the past few weeks. With any great celebration, there are going to be lots of hungry guests to feed. Plates and cups gathered in our office, napkins sitting on top. Each trip to the exchange brought us one item closer, helped us check off one more necessity. Unopened herbs and spices rested inside an empty shoebox, creatively labeled by other members of the office. Homemade rubs to flavor the steaks, which were due to arrive in the coming days.
Our pending celebration was not only about food and drinks. Uploading movies to external hard drives and creating playlists on MP3 players, we ensured there would be continuous entertainment for all. Additional card tables had been purchased, extra chairs rolled outside. For those who enjoyed the occasional tobacco product, we’d even designated an area laden with ashtrays and a fire extinguisher, just to be on the safe side.
A friend had sent me an email saying she would be spending the holidays with her father who was coming in from out of town. Her plan was to have the week off, relax, and enjoy her time with her family. As there are no holidays here, no days off, I felt slightly down about my situation. This holiday season would be the first time since enlisting in the military that I would be away from my family. Every other year I would save my vacation time until December, anticipating going home for two of the greatest weeks of the year. This year would be different. Not only was there the physical separation by distance, there was the emotional separation as well. Would I miss those holiday cards and “Merry Christmas” wishes I had grown accustom to over my few years of being on this Earth?
In a short moment, I realized that I was not alone. Much like myself, everyone else here also felt the strain of being away from home on the holidays. The positive side to this was that we were not alone as we had all become a family. We’d worked together, bunked together, dined together, and played together. For hours every day, we were in close proximity to one another. Indeed, we had grown into a strange yet successful and accomplished family. This holiday season, as we stockpiled supplies and stocking stuffers, we take a moment to realize that we are not alone in this time of celebration. We take a moment to be thankful for what we have here now, what we have already been blessed with, and what we have to look forward to in the coming months.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Day 10 - Stepping Stones
As with the typical holiday season, there is sure to be an overindulgence in home-prepared meals, contributing to those dreaded “Holiday 15 lbs”. Here in Iraq it is no different. As dining facilities have begun to prepare luscious feasts well in advance of Christmas, the effects have become more apparent. Stuffed and sluggish, troops can be seen stumbling away from the table, full of holiday goodness, looking for a place to lay their head for an hour or two.
Being at war means being prepared for combat at a moments notice. As blouse tops are stretched thin, several Marines have taken the initiative to combat excess weight gain. Three times a week, a step class is conducted during the busiest hour normally reserved for dinner. Growing in participants, both by choice and leadership direction, the class has been making drastic changes in many lifestyles here in the desert. As packages arrive in the mail full of sugar-filled snacks and as shelves of chocolate bars empty daily, the need was apparent.
As the music begins and warm ups have been conducted, its off to a well-needed hour of exercises. Each day has proven to be a challenge as different muscle groups are targeted, with and without the aid of weights. As instructors complete movements in front of the class, a mirror provides him a way to ensure everyone is able, and capable, to perform as well.
Each day, a different playlist is loaded onto his MP3 player, varying the speeds of each workout. On days where tempos are often slow and relaxed, weight bars are used to add resistance, steps are raised a few inches. As dreaded Wednesdays come, the music is fast and the heart is racing. These are the days one is truly put to the test in their physical performance.
One of the amazing things about the class is the amount of teamwork displayed. When one struggles, exercises are often repeated. As others encourage, obstacles are easily overcome. When one reaches the point where they believe they can no longer continue, the point where most would give up, they look to their brothers- and sisters-at-arms for support. Even in an environment as common as a gym workout room, anything is possible.
Not only has step class proven to increase the health of those who participate here, it has also increased morale. This day, instructors and students alike stepped to remakes of familiar Christmas tunes, brandishing Santa hats, candy cane socks, or a snowman scarf. As requests have poured in from numerous people and playlists have expanded, the duration of the holiday season is sure to be one combining excitement and fitness into one.
As the clock reaches 1630, music continues to play as cool downs are performed. Today, we were not only working out our muscles, but we exercised our spirits. Group exercises such as step class provide us a way to bond with each other, to unwind from a stressful day of work, and a stepping stone to better overall health. Walking out of the door, drenched in sweat-soaked clothing, I vow to never attend the class again, as I typically do after every session has ended. Muscles sore, I stagger towards the men’s locker room, maneuvering past a group of bystanders. As they stare with a look of confusion, I realize their upcoming fate…they are the next class for the evening.
Being at war means being prepared for combat at a moments notice. As blouse tops are stretched thin, several Marines have taken the initiative to combat excess weight gain. Three times a week, a step class is conducted during the busiest hour normally reserved for dinner. Growing in participants, both by choice and leadership direction, the class has been making drastic changes in many lifestyles here in the desert. As packages arrive in the mail full of sugar-filled snacks and as shelves of chocolate bars empty daily, the need was apparent.
As the music begins and warm ups have been conducted, its off to a well-needed hour of exercises. Each day has proven to be a challenge as different muscle groups are targeted, with and without the aid of weights. As instructors complete movements in front of the class, a mirror provides him a way to ensure everyone is able, and capable, to perform as well.
Each day, a different playlist is loaded onto his MP3 player, varying the speeds of each workout. On days where tempos are often slow and relaxed, weight bars are used to add resistance, steps are raised a few inches. As dreaded Wednesdays come, the music is fast and the heart is racing. These are the days one is truly put to the test in their physical performance.
One of the amazing things about the class is the amount of teamwork displayed. When one struggles, exercises are often repeated. As others encourage, obstacles are easily overcome. When one reaches the point where they believe they can no longer continue, the point where most would give up, they look to their brothers- and sisters-at-arms for support. Even in an environment as common as a gym workout room, anything is possible.
Not only has step class proven to increase the health of those who participate here, it has also increased morale. This day, instructors and students alike stepped to remakes of familiar Christmas tunes, brandishing Santa hats, candy cane socks, or a snowman scarf. As requests have poured in from numerous people and playlists have expanded, the duration of the holiday season is sure to be one combining excitement and fitness into one.
As the clock reaches 1630, music continues to play as cool downs are performed. Today, we were not only working out our muscles, but we exercised our spirits. Group exercises such as step class provide us a way to bond with each other, to unwind from a stressful day of work, and a stepping stone to better overall health. Walking out of the door, drenched in sweat-soaked clothing, I vow to never attend the class again, as I typically do after every session has ended. Muscles sore, I stagger towards the men’s locker room, maneuvering past a group of bystanders. As they stare with a look of confusion, I realize their upcoming fate…they are the next class for the evening.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Day 9 - Meeting A Mouse
One early December afternoon I stood outside awaiting several coworkers as chowtime approached. We had been at work early that morning and had not yet had a chance to eat. As I stood inside a small wooden gazebo, I reached inside my cargo pocket to enjoy my last pack of cheese-on-cheese crackers. That day, as on many other days in Iraq, work had consumed the majority of the morning, limiting the time one had to step out for a brief yet satisfying meal. Overcome with hunger, I was eager to indulge in the snack.
As I snacked on the crackers, welcoming the warmth of the sun beating down on me, I noticed that I was not alone that afternoon. Below me sat a mouse, eyes affixed on the wrapper, ears twitching at every crumple of the plastic. Squatting down to look closer, the mouse showed no fear. He did not run. Instead, he stood on his hind legs, begging to take part in the dining. Breaking off a small corner, I dropped it in front of him, watching as he dragged it into a dark corner before devouring it within seconds. As I stood up, searching for my fellow troops, I noticed a mouse trap next to a bunker. Inside, motionless, laid another larger mouse.
Was it possible the mouse I had just fed was now alone in this world, looking for a means to survive. Taking chances, trusting others with his life, so he could see another day? As I returned to my crackers, the mouse too had returned. His small size and absence of fear told me it was very young, oblivious to the dangers of life. Opening my snack completely, I dropped an entire cracker for him as I sat on a bench, watching. Instead of taking the cracker into the dark corner as he did once before, he dragged his food towards me, resting on the side of my boot, as he began to eat.
By this time, everyone was ready to leave for lunch. As they approached me, they too noticed the small mouse which had grown comfortable next to me. Fascinated, they too began to entertain the baby mouse. As we fed him and watched him run as if playing hide-and-seek he brought excitement and laughter to the group. Several minutes had passed before we left the mouse and headed off for lunch. As I looked back, I could see him running after us for a short distance before finally stopping, standing on his hind legs once more, watching as we departed.
Meeting this mouse put yet another thought into perspective for me. As the military has sent countless troops to Iraq to fight this war, how many children of this country have been left to fend for themselves as parents would not return home? Home many innocent faces of American youth would chase after their parent setting out for war, watching and waiting for them to return? As with the mouse, I have seen military members here feed the hungry mounts of the children of Iraq. I have seen the smiles of joy and heard the sounds of happiness from countless children as troops roll into poverty-stricken neighborhoods.
As many may criticize the war due to numerous casualties on both sides, many often overlook the attempts made here to bring comfort to the needy children. Food, water, clothes, supplies. Everything makes a world of difference for many of the youth here, who have grown accustom to going without things we take for granted. Many Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, and Marines here feel deep regret for what has transpired here since this brutal war began many years ago. Many look into the eyes of a struggling Iraqi child and see the hurt that has been caused, the damage done, the families destroyed.
As we move through this holiday season, the brave men and women of the military are working tirelessly to make a difference. Bringing holiday cheer to the lives of many, we have the chance to meet and interact with the population here. Timid at first, they grow used to our presence, often welcoming us in a hail of giggles and hugs. Much like the mouse I encountered, they too only yearn to be taken care of, wanting someone to show they care. Asking for no more than a handshake or a meal to share with their family, they touch the hearts of many this holiday season.
As I snacked on the crackers, welcoming the warmth of the sun beating down on me, I noticed that I was not alone that afternoon. Below me sat a mouse, eyes affixed on the wrapper, ears twitching at every crumple of the plastic. Squatting down to look closer, the mouse showed no fear. He did not run. Instead, he stood on his hind legs, begging to take part in the dining. Breaking off a small corner, I dropped it in front of him, watching as he dragged it into a dark corner before devouring it within seconds. As I stood up, searching for my fellow troops, I noticed a mouse trap next to a bunker. Inside, motionless, laid another larger mouse.
Was it possible the mouse I had just fed was now alone in this world, looking for a means to survive. Taking chances, trusting others with his life, so he could see another day? As I returned to my crackers, the mouse too had returned. His small size and absence of fear told me it was very young, oblivious to the dangers of life. Opening my snack completely, I dropped an entire cracker for him as I sat on a bench, watching. Instead of taking the cracker into the dark corner as he did once before, he dragged his food towards me, resting on the side of my boot, as he began to eat.
By this time, everyone was ready to leave for lunch. As they approached me, they too noticed the small mouse which had grown comfortable next to me. Fascinated, they too began to entertain the baby mouse. As we fed him and watched him run as if playing hide-and-seek he brought excitement and laughter to the group. Several minutes had passed before we left the mouse and headed off for lunch. As I looked back, I could see him running after us for a short distance before finally stopping, standing on his hind legs once more, watching as we departed.
Meeting this mouse put yet another thought into perspective for me. As the military has sent countless troops to Iraq to fight this war, how many children of this country have been left to fend for themselves as parents would not return home? Home many innocent faces of American youth would chase after their parent setting out for war, watching and waiting for them to return? As with the mouse, I have seen military members here feed the hungry mounts of the children of Iraq. I have seen the smiles of joy and heard the sounds of happiness from countless children as troops roll into poverty-stricken neighborhoods.
As many may criticize the war due to numerous casualties on both sides, many often overlook the attempts made here to bring comfort to the needy children. Food, water, clothes, supplies. Everything makes a world of difference for many of the youth here, who have grown accustom to going without things we take for granted. Many Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, and Marines here feel deep regret for what has transpired here since this brutal war began many years ago. Many look into the eyes of a struggling Iraqi child and see the hurt that has been caused, the damage done, the families destroyed.
As we move through this holiday season, the brave men and women of the military are working tirelessly to make a difference. Bringing holiday cheer to the lives of many, we have the chance to meet and interact with the population here. Timid at first, they grow used to our presence, often welcoming us in a hail of giggles and hugs. Much like the mouse I encountered, they too only yearn to be taken care of, wanting someone to show they care. Asking for no more than a handshake or a meal to share with their family, they touch the hearts of many this holiday season.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Day 8 - A Birthday to Remember
As days continue to pass by here in Iraq, we here have more to look forward to than the holiday season. Many here will celebrate anniversaries, personal milestones, and birthdays. Although away from loved ones back home, they are fortunate to be surrounded by a group of people who relate to their experience, doing what they can to ensure a memorable day. Today, two Marines celebrated their 21st and 22nd birthdays in Iraq. Initially homesick, their fellow warriors soon made their day truly a day to celebrate.
The first, a Lance Corporal in the Marines, was sent away by her supervisor to work for a few hours. Meanwhile, we were back at the office preparing for her surprise. As lookouts kept a watchful eye on entrances, we worked to wrap her present: a sweater she had been looking at the past few days at the Post Exchange. Placed in an empty box wrapped in white paper, we added our own touch to liven up the décor. In colorful letters read the words “Happy Birthday”. Affixed to the box was a card we secretly passed around the office earlier that morning for everyone to sign.
As the birthday Marine walked back into the building, feeling down about having to work, as well as being away for her 22nd birthday, she was stopped in the hallway by an awaiting superior. Told she had made a mistake on her prior day and needed to correct it, she stood outside as we hurried into her office. As she stepped through the doorway, we greeted her with the thunderous roar of a “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Surprised, she took a step backwards to take in the occasion. All of her fellow coworkers, those she have known for as little as 7 weeks to as long as 11 long grueling months, were there to support her.
With the present situated on her desk, which was also adorned with Christmas decorations, she hesitated for a moment before opening her gift. Upon seeing the sweater, she quickly put it on, thanking us all for showing how much we cared. As we attempted to sing the traditional lyrics of “Happy Birthday”, there she stood awestruck. Applause heard from offices opposite of ours, she paused for pictures documenting the occasion.
Wearing the sweater, she invited us all to see why she had desired it. Sewn into the material was a logo which reminded her of home. It reminded her that she had less than two months before being reunited with family and friends back in the States. She invited us to feel the softness and warmth of the material, an amenity needed here during the cold days of December. Though we were in a combat zone where most of us felt insignificant in a mass of warriors, today was her day. Today, several friends came together to show her how much we cared.
Later that evening, another Marine was due to celebrate her 21st birthday. As we piled six people into a 5-seater pickup truck, loaded with prepared meat, a BBQ grill, cards and a gift, we made our way across the camp for another evening of festivities.
Arriving early to set up and start the grill that would soon feed many, we took in the sights. Surrounded by military vehicles and supplies, we were able to transform a warehouse into a ballroom, complete with music and food. We were able to rid the area of military association for a night and bring in the comforts once enjoyed, comforts surely to be enjoyed upon returning home.
As the grill was filled with seasoned pieces of chicken, ribs, and hamburgers, guests began to arrive with sides, drinks, and snacks. A table sat to the side covered in a variety of chips, drinks, snacks, candy, and utensils. As music played in the background, card games were played between groups who came out to show their support.
As cameras flashed, the Marine celebrating her 21st birthday, her 1st birthday away from home, was amazed at the effort that went into the planning of her special day. A sign hanging from the large folding door would become the background for many pictures throughout the night.
After all had enjoyed their fillings of food and drink, the birthday Marine stood in a large circle conversing, her surprise being carried in behind her. A cake which had been prepared just hours prior, topped with 21 Jolly Ranchers in place of candles, was presented to her amongst the large group. Cards were passed to her as we sang another round of “Happy Birthday” to a special friend we had made here in the desert.
The night constantly illuminated with the flash of cameras, we brought out her surprise gift, one she was sure to enjoy: a Dora the Explorer Piñata. Upon seeing the gift, she immediately looked to the members of my unit, all of us knowing she was fascinated with the character. Thanking all of us, she posed for another round of photos.
Upon the urging of many, the piñata was strung from the ceiling, a bat placed in her hand. Blindfolded and spinning in a circle 21 consecutive times, she prepared for the highlight of the evening. Losing balance for a brief moment, falling to the ground, she was guided onto the “firing range”. Three fierce swings later, candy poured onto the floor, troops rushing to have their pick.
This joyous day in Iraq would be one to remember. Although alcohol is not permitted, we proved it was not needed to celebrate. We were each other’s entertainment; we were the spirits that would keep the party going for hours into the night. For today was not about firing a weapon, riding in a convoy, or soaring high in the sky, but for two Marines who many came out to support. Surrounded by friends, they celebrated a birthday to remember this December day.
The first, a Lance Corporal in the Marines, was sent away by her supervisor to work for a few hours. Meanwhile, we were back at the office preparing for her surprise. As lookouts kept a watchful eye on entrances, we worked to wrap her present: a sweater she had been looking at the past few days at the Post Exchange. Placed in an empty box wrapped in white paper, we added our own touch to liven up the décor. In colorful letters read the words “Happy Birthday”. Affixed to the box was a card we secretly passed around the office earlier that morning for everyone to sign.
As the birthday Marine walked back into the building, feeling down about having to work, as well as being away for her 22nd birthday, she was stopped in the hallway by an awaiting superior. Told she had made a mistake on her prior day and needed to correct it, she stood outside as we hurried into her office. As she stepped through the doorway, we greeted her with the thunderous roar of a “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Surprised, she took a step backwards to take in the occasion. All of her fellow coworkers, those she have known for as little as 7 weeks to as long as 11 long grueling months, were there to support her.
With the present situated on her desk, which was also adorned with Christmas decorations, she hesitated for a moment before opening her gift. Upon seeing the sweater, she quickly put it on, thanking us all for showing how much we cared. As we attempted to sing the traditional lyrics of “Happy Birthday”, there she stood awestruck. Applause heard from offices opposite of ours, she paused for pictures documenting the occasion.
Wearing the sweater, she invited us all to see why she had desired it. Sewn into the material was a logo which reminded her of home. It reminded her that she had less than two months before being reunited with family and friends back in the States. She invited us to feel the softness and warmth of the material, an amenity needed here during the cold days of December. Though we were in a combat zone where most of us felt insignificant in a mass of warriors, today was her day. Today, several friends came together to show her how much we cared.
Later that evening, another Marine was due to celebrate her 21st birthday. As we piled six people into a 5-seater pickup truck, loaded with prepared meat, a BBQ grill, cards and a gift, we made our way across the camp for another evening of festivities.
Arriving early to set up and start the grill that would soon feed many, we took in the sights. Surrounded by military vehicles and supplies, we were able to transform a warehouse into a ballroom, complete with music and food. We were able to rid the area of military association for a night and bring in the comforts once enjoyed, comforts surely to be enjoyed upon returning home.
As the grill was filled with seasoned pieces of chicken, ribs, and hamburgers, guests began to arrive with sides, drinks, and snacks. A table sat to the side covered in a variety of chips, drinks, snacks, candy, and utensils. As music played in the background, card games were played between groups who came out to show their support.
As cameras flashed, the Marine celebrating her 21st birthday, her 1st birthday away from home, was amazed at the effort that went into the planning of her special day. A sign hanging from the large folding door would become the background for many pictures throughout the night.
After all had enjoyed their fillings of food and drink, the birthday Marine stood in a large circle conversing, her surprise being carried in behind her. A cake which had been prepared just hours prior, topped with 21 Jolly Ranchers in place of candles, was presented to her amongst the large group. Cards were passed to her as we sang another round of “Happy Birthday” to a special friend we had made here in the desert.
The night constantly illuminated with the flash of cameras, we brought out her surprise gift, one she was sure to enjoy: a Dora the Explorer Piñata. Upon seeing the gift, she immediately looked to the members of my unit, all of us knowing she was fascinated with the character. Thanking all of us, she posed for another round of photos.
Upon the urging of many, the piñata was strung from the ceiling, a bat placed in her hand. Blindfolded and spinning in a circle 21 consecutive times, she prepared for the highlight of the evening. Losing balance for a brief moment, falling to the ground, she was guided onto the “firing range”. Three fierce swings later, candy poured onto the floor, troops rushing to have their pick.
This joyous day in Iraq would be one to remember. Although alcohol is not permitted, we proved it was not needed to celebrate. We were each other’s entertainment; we were the spirits that would keep the party going for hours into the night. For today was not about firing a weapon, riding in a convoy, or soaring high in the sky, but for two Marines who many came out to support. Surrounded by friends, they celebrated a birthday to remember this December day.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Day 7 - A Familiar Dance
For many here in Iraq, this is their first deployment. Many are young, many are low ranking, and many have missed out on a favorite past time enjoyed back home – dancing. That too, much like the holiday season, has found a way to come to Iraq these brisk days, brining smiles and happiness to the faces of many.
The morale tent houses a large recreation room for a host of events during the day. At night, it is turned over to the military, both young and old. Complete with a speaker system and assorted colored lights flashing, we bring life to the night. Each day of the week there is a different genre of music, a different crowd to take part. Salsa, Reggae, Hip Hop and R&B, Country, Old School. There is music to suit the tastes of just about anyone and everyone who enjoys a good tune.
The first hours are typically dedicated to instruction. Learning the basic steps to a complicated Latin dance, the finesse that goes with the moves in a Temptations song, or the beat that accompanies a large line dance, many are quick to take part. We partner up in many cases, providing us a chance to meet people from all walks of life, people living on the opposite side of camp, from all career fields. For now, the lights are on and uniform tops are removed, providing a comfortable and inviting learning environment.
Once the lights are turned off and the music starts playing is when the true spirit comes out of the crowd. For the next four hours of the night, we are free to revert back to life at a lounge, club, or bar. There is no alcohol involved as it is banned in-country but its aid is not needed to promote such a lively environment. As cameras flash and video cameras roll, many document the festivities to remember the good times. While green and red lights flash behind us, illuminating the dancing area, masses migrate to the floor to the rhythm of a familiar tune.
On this December night, it is Salsa night. The instruction has passed, the lights have dimmed, and music has been turned up. The pounding of the bass provided by a floor-mounted subwoofer can be felt. The music draws two towards the floor, then two more. In minutes, everyone is on their feet. Whether taking part of watching from the sidelines, everyone is sure to have a good time. Here, you can dance with anyone without having to worry about rejection. As Marines dance with Army, Air Force dances with Marines, the Navy dance with the Air Force, and a host of other mixes, the songs continue to play, providing a link to life at home. As the next song begins to spin, partners are switched as people break off for water, only to return for hours of more fun.
The most amazing part is not the fact that we have dance nights here in Iraq. It is that in addition to the military taking part in these events, Iraqis and foreign national contractors enjoy the nightlife provided as well. People we once despised for acts against our nation several years ago now dance amongst us, and with us, for evenings of enjoyment, learning traditional dances of the different cultures we have to offer. Coming in groups, they watch in awe and marvel as dancers perform synchronized and often complex moves. Not only are they excited to watch but anxious for their chance to try out their newly acquired moves.
During these nights, they too show us dances of their culture. As American music is played, we get a taste of what dancing means to them. Speaking in broken but improving English, they guide us through the steps and movements. Laughing together at mistakes, we pause to regain ourselves before getting back into the swing of things. Not only do we learn make honest attempts to learn the moves, we unknowingly learn their language as they name the steps and count the beats in their native tongue.
The holidays have always been known for bringing cheer. For us who are deployed, they have done that as well as brought us closer to those once viewed as an enemy. Dancing, laughing, and singing together, negative preconceptions we previously held have begun to diminish. Ties are being made, friendships built. Through close interactions and movements we have forgotten our differences and embraced a culture which many still look down on.
This night, this holiday season has proven to be one to remember. Not only have the brave men and women of the military been given the opportunity to freely express themselves through the art of dance, but we have learned valuable lessons. As we dance our nights away here in Iraq, we remember life back home. For the moment, with the aid of lively music and the positive attitudes of people of this country, this is our home. This will be a dance that will not soon be forgotten.
The morale tent houses a large recreation room for a host of events during the day. At night, it is turned over to the military, both young and old. Complete with a speaker system and assorted colored lights flashing, we bring life to the night. Each day of the week there is a different genre of music, a different crowd to take part. Salsa, Reggae, Hip Hop and R&B, Country, Old School. There is music to suit the tastes of just about anyone and everyone who enjoys a good tune.
The first hours are typically dedicated to instruction. Learning the basic steps to a complicated Latin dance, the finesse that goes with the moves in a Temptations song, or the beat that accompanies a large line dance, many are quick to take part. We partner up in many cases, providing us a chance to meet people from all walks of life, people living on the opposite side of camp, from all career fields. For now, the lights are on and uniform tops are removed, providing a comfortable and inviting learning environment.
Once the lights are turned off and the music starts playing is when the true spirit comes out of the crowd. For the next four hours of the night, we are free to revert back to life at a lounge, club, or bar. There is no alcohol involved as it is banned in-country but its aid is not needed to promote such a lively environment. As cameras flash and video cameras roll, many document the festivities to remember the good times. While green and red lights flash behind us, illuminating the dancing area, masses migrate to the floor to the rhythm of a familiar tune.
On this December night, it is Salsa night. The instruction has passed, the lights have dimmed, and music has been turned up. The pounding of the bass provided by a floor-mounted subwoofer can be felt. The music draws two towards the floor, then two more. In minutes, everyone is on their feet. Whether taking part of watching from the sidelines, everyone is sure to have a good time. Here, you can dance with anyone without having to worry about rejection. As Marines dance with Army, Air Force dances with Marines, the Navy dance with the Air Force, and a host of other mixes, the songs continue to play, providing a link to life at home. As the next song begins to spin, partners are switched as people break off for water, only to return for hours of more fun.
The most amazing part is not the fact that we have dance nights here in Iraq. It is that in addition to the military taking part in these events, Iraqis and foreign national contractors enjoy the nightlife provided as well. People we once despised for acts against our nation several years ago now dance amongst us, and with us, for evenings of enjoyment, learning traditional dances of the different cultures we have to offer. Coming in groups, they watch in awe and marvel as dancers perform synchronized and often complex moves. Not only are they excited to watch but anxious for their chance to try out their newly acquired moves.
During these nights, they too show us dances of their culture. As American music is played, we get a taste of what dancing means to them. Speaking in broken but improving English, they guide us through the steps and movements. Laughing together at mistakes, we pause to regain ourselves before getting back into the swing of things. Not only do we learn make honest attempts to learn the moves, we unknowingly learn their language as they name the steps and count the beats in their native tongue.
The holidays have always been known for bringing cheer. For us who are deployed, they have done that as well as brought us closer to those once viewed as an enemy. Dancing, laughing, and singing together, negative preconceptions we previously held have begun to diminish. Ties are being made, friendships built. Through close interactions and movements we have forgotten our differences and embraced a culture which many still look down on.
This night, this holiday season has proven to be one to remember. Not only have the brave men and women of the military been given the opportunity to freely express themselves through the art of dance, but we have learned valuable lessons. As we dance our nights away here in Iraq, we remember life back home. For the moment, with the aid of lively music and the positive attitudes of people of this country, this is our home. This will be a dance that will not soon be forgotten.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Day 6 - Four Suits
Each night after endlessly working in the office, fatigue normally sets in at 5pm. Being deployed is hard, working seven days a week, 12 hours a day. Somehow, the holidays have found a way to lessen the pain. As the days pass, we here find more ways to ease the stressors of everyday life.
A common activity that took place during the late evening hours at my unit was card games. Hearts was typically the game of choice. Involving strategy, deception, and occasionally handing out punishment, it was a game that we all enjoyed. Sitting by a burning fire pit for warmth, it was typical to see a group of warriors at 2am, yelling and laughing, movies playing in the background.
As we sat outside that Saturday in December, surrounded by decorations we planned to set up in the coming days, we would forget, for a brief moment, that we were in a combat zone. Free of weapons, wrapped in warm clothes brought from home, we gathered around a table, pen and paper in-hand ready to keep track of the score. Jokingly eying each other, tossing playful insults at each other, the mind games started early that night.
As with most decks of playing cards, Hearts is played with four different suits. Cards represented by numbers and members of the royal court represent a rack-and-stack amongst themselves. Much like the military, each suit of the deck is different, serving a different yet vital role depending on the situation. When used in the right situation, each one has the capability of gaining an advantage even in the face of adversity. In some instances, combining the efforts has the greatest impact, increasing the chances of overall victory.
Every branch of the military has made tremendous contributions to the war effort. Whether flying above, marching below, typing behind a screen, or sailing out at sea, every service has done their part to ensure a decisive victory.
As planes patrol the skies above, we here are not weary of surprise. We can perform our duties during the day, relax during the evening, and sleep well at night knowing that the Air Force provides us with a blanket of aerial protection. Fast yet agile, planes circle above with a watchful eye. Helicopters whir on the horizon, able to spot the slightest movements of all, large or small. With painted sleights and photos of Santa on their sides, the come bearing gifts for all: the gift of promise. As we sleep during the hours of darkness, they have made a promise to protect us as we rest our eyes these chilly winter nights.
As armored vehicles prepare for evening missions, Marines stand proudly beside them, performing checks of equipment and weapons. Some, in place of their standard covers, wear the familiar sight of a red cone with a white ball attached to the end. Santa hats had been passed out the night before, sparking the holiday cheer within each of them. Jokingly, they load their equipment into the large vehicles. “Timmy, were you good this year?” asks one Marine to another as he tosses his gear. Vehicles ready, gunners manning turrets while braving the harsh temperatures, they roll out into the darkness of night, leaving behind a lingering cloud of dust. That night they make a list, checking it twice. The only thing on their agenda: make it back safely so they could safely return to their family, both here and back in the States.
Powering around in an endless convoy of Humvees, the Army does their part this holiday season. Completing tasks during all hours of the night, working tirelessly to ensure the mission is complete. As the days grow nearer to December 25th, they patrol outlying areas ensuring we are safe for another day of celebrating. Insides of vehicles are sparsely decorated with ornaments, miniature wreathes, and candy canes. They too have found a way to keep the holiday spirit.
The Navy, as they guard the coasts just off shore, keeps us safe for maritime attacks. As piracy becomes more of an issue this side of the world, they step up to be the watchful eye for those in need. Removing large cutouts of turkeys from Thanksgiving, they replace them with sleighs and reindeer, gliding across the waves with ease and grace. For here in Iraq, reindeer don’t fly - they water ski.
With most game of cards, there are typically four different suits, each different from the next with different strengths and weaknesses. The military too, with our four suits designating our respective service, has our strengths and weaknesses. But when combined and used at the most advantageous point, we become a force not to be reckoned with. Whether we are fighting a war or celebrating the holidays together as a family, no other combination of suits in the world match the power, or brotherhood, of the United States Army, Air Force, Navy, or Marines.
A common activity that took place during the late evening hours at my unit was card games. Hearts was typically the game of choice. Involving strategy, deception, and occasionally handing out punishment, it was a game that we all enjoyed. Sitting by a burning fire pit for warmth, it was typical to see a group of warriors at 2am, yelling and laughing, movies playing in the background.
As we sat outside that Saturday in December, surrounded by decorations we planned to set up in the coming days, we would forget, for a brief moment, that we were in a combat zone. Free of weapons, wrapped in warm clothes brought from home, we gathered around a table, pen and paper in-hand ready to keep track of the score. Jokingly eying each other, tossing playful insults at each other, the mind games started early that night.
As with most decks of playing cards, Hearts is played with four different suits. Cards represented by numbers and members of the royal court represent a rack-and-stack amongst themselves. Much like the military, each suit of the deck is different, serving a different yet vital role depending on the situation. When used in the right situation, each one has the capability of gaining an advantage even in the face of adversity. In some instances, combining the efforts has the greatest impact, increasing the chances of overall victory.
Every branch of the military has made tremendous contributions to the war effort. Whether flying above, marching below, typing behind a screen, or sailing out at sea, every service has done their part to ensure a decisive victory.
As planes patrol the skies above, we here are not weary of surprise. We can perform our duties during the day, relax during the evening, and sleep well at night knowing that the Air Force provides us with a blanket of aerial protection. Fast yet agile, planes circle above with a watchful eye. Helicopters whir on the horizon, able to spot the slightest movements of all, large or small. With painted sleights and photos of Santa on their sides, the come bearing gifts for all: the gift of promise. As we sleep during the hours of darkness, they have made a promise to protect us as we rest our eyes these chilly winter nights.
As armored vehicles prepare for evening missions, Marines stand proudly beside them, performing checks of equipment and weapons. Some, in place of their standard covers, wear the familiar sight of a red cone with a white ball attached to the end. Santa hats had been passed out the night before, sparking the holiday cheer within each of them. Jokingly, they load their equipment into the large vehicles. “Timmy, were you good this year?” asks one Marine to another as he tosses his gear. Vehicles ready, gunners manning turrets while braving the harsh temperatures, they roll out into the darkness of night, leaving behind a lingering cloud of dust. That night they make a list, checking it twice. The only thing on their agenda: make it back safely so they could safely return to their family, both here and back in the States.
Powering around in an endless convoy of Humvees, the Army does their part this holiday season. Completing tasks during all hours of the night, working tirelessly to ensure the mission is complete. As the days grow nearer to December 25th, they patrol outlying areas ensuring we are safe for another day of celebrating. Insides of vehicles are sparsely decorated with ornaments, miniature wreathes, and candy canes. They too have found a way to keep the holiday spirit.
The Navy, as they guard the coasts just off shore, keeps us safe for maritime attacks. As piracy becomes more of an issue this side of the world, they step up to be the watchful eye for those in need. Removing large cutouts of turkeys from Thanksgiving, they replace them with sleighs and reindeer, gliding across the waves with ease and grace. For here in Iraq, reindeer don’t fly - they water ski.
With most game of cards, there are typically four different suits, each different from the next with different strengths and weaknesses. The military too, with our four suits designating our respective service, has our strengths and weaknesses. But when combined and used at the most advantageous point, we become a force not to be reckoned with. Whether we are fighting a war or celebrating the holidays together as a family, no other combination of suits in the world match the power, or brotherhood, of the United States Army, Air Force, Navy, or Marines.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Day 5 - A Winter Walk
Contrary to popular belief, the desert isn’t continuously hot. In the early days of December, temperatures reach the 30s and 40s by sundown. Its not exactly the type of weather you’d want to walk in to get everywhere you need to go. At my camp, I was fortunate to have some type of transit system. There were five different buses, five different routes, all which I rode hundreds of times to get to my destination. Unfortunately, unlike the Chicago CTA, there is no set schedule when buses will arrive or depart. Playing a game of hit or miss can be the difference between a warm ride and a frigid, often lengthy, walk.
Early in December, there was an exceptionally cold night that I remember. Though I was bundled in my typical gear, the unusually strong winds cut through open seams, taking advantage of any exposed skin. As I left the morale tent after hours of searching the web for aftermarket parts to my motorcycle, I would ultimately play the waiting game, only to find myself victim to mother natures wrath.
30 minutes had passed as I stood against a port-a-john, trying to block the fierceness of the wind. Not a single bus had passed. Those who drove by in vehicles paid no attention to me as I stood on the roadside, watching the warm breath escape my mouth. I could continue to wait, standing as my legs stiffened and my eyelids grew heavier. My other alternative: walk a mile back to the warmth of my “can”.
Another ten minutes elapsed and headlights came and went before I decided to make the trek back by foot. The first steps were brutal as a strong gust roared, wind temporarily preventing me from moving forward. As I prepared to for the long walk ahead of me, I began to think about how far the military has come since we began this war several years ago. The challenges we’ve had to endure and the road that lies ahead.
Ever since the planes hit in New York and Washington DC and crashed into a field in Pennsylvania, our country has been at war. We have sent thousands of souls to man the front lines of Iraq and neighboring countries, many on several occasions. The United States of America would not falter in the eyes of defeat, we would not fail against any adversiy, and we would not give into the evils of terrorism.
4,200+ deaths since the war first “officially” began back on March 19th, 2003. Initially estimated to last only a few months, with the following year or two left to rebuild, we were led to believe that things would get better. We were led to believe that the majority of us would return home after a few months.
As May 2003 rolled around, President Bush announced total victory in Iraq. Could a war on terrorism possibly be won in only 3 short months? In all actuality, it was only the beginning of what would later be known as Operation Enduring Freedom. Enduring translated into years trying to rebuild a broken nation, years of casualties, years of a nation left to question the legitimacy of the war.
Along with the majority of the country, I too questioned the motives and necessity of troops being in Iraq. After seven long years of conflict, we are still sending our loved ones to fight for reasons unbeknownst to the majority of the human populace. But in six short weeks of being in Iraq, I have seen the change. I have noticed the progress, paid attention to the difference we are making, and seen the lives we’ve touch on a daily basis.
As supply trucks roll in, civil engineers are building infrastructures alongside Iraqis. Homes and schools are being repaired, work centers erected, roads paved, sewage lines buried beneath the ground. Not only have we been aiding in the rebuilding process, we’ve been providing jobs to those who have next to nothing. We’ve provided a source of income for a man to be able to support his family. We’ve trained people in construction, which will benefit them long after we have left this country. The road to self-preservation begins with the will to care for oneself. With training and guidance, the Iraq people are well on track to rebuilding a more stable area.
Brave Iraqi men and women have stepped forward to protect their homeland against those who have chosen to do harm to them. Not only do these forces fight for themselves, they fight for a better tomorrow. They train alongside the troops of several nations. Freedom is never easily attained; there will always be setbacks and challenges along the way. What matters most is they have chosen to stay true to their vision, not straying for a second.
For years we have been at war, now teetering on the brink of war with yet another country. The progress we have made has come at a significant cost to us dearly. Our nation has fallen into a near-recession, the American dollar has weakened while the cost of living has steadily increased, jobs have been terminated, and homes have been lost. The once most powerful nation in the world now struggles to survive into the next day. Unable to see victory in the near future, we are blinded by the dense fogs of combat. Will we ever end this war? Will our country ever go back to how it used to be, before the all the bloodshed?
As I finally arrived to my room on that cold December evening in Iraq, I had a sudden realization, an epiphany. The walk, much like the war, seemed to be a long and dangerous one to complete. It was a road rich in disappointments, false hopes, and a gloomy overcast. Though times had gotten hard and I wanted to give up several times, I pressed on to eventually reach the warmth and safety of my room. Had I given up, all of my efforts would have meant nothing, proving only to be a waste of time and energy.
Seven longs years, accompanied by slow progress and a multitude of setbacks, the warmth of home seems faint. Accomplishments appear minute and insignificant. However hard it gets out here during the holidays, every mission brings us closer to success. Every victory brings us closer to family. For now we press on, looking ahead to the warmth of peace, reuniting with loved ones, hoping our winter walk will soon end.
Early in December, there was an exceptionally cold night that I remember. Though I was bundled in my typical gear, the unusually strong winds cut through open seams, taking advantage of any exposed skin. As I left the morale tent after hours of searching the web for aftermarket parts to my motorcycle, I would ultimately play the waiting game, only to find myself victim to mother natures wrath.
30 minutes had passed as I stood against a port-a-john, trying to block the fierceness of the wind. Not a single bus had passed. Those who drove by in vehicles paid no attention to me as I stood on the roadside, watching the warm breath escape my mouth. I could continue to wait, standing as my legs stiffened and my eyelids grew heavier. My other alternative: walk a mile back to the warmth of my “can”.
Another ten minutes elapsed and headlights came and went before I decided to make the trek back by foot. The first steps were brutal as a strong gust roared, wind temporarily preventing me from moving forward. As I prepared to for the long walk ahead of me, I began to think about how far the military has come since we began this war several years ago. The challenges we’ve had to endure and the road that lies ahead.
Ever since the planes hit in New York and Washington DC and crashed into a field in Pennsylvania, our country has been at war. We have sent thousands of souls to man the front lines of Iraq and neighboring countries, many on several occasions. The United States of America would not falter in the eyes of defeat, we would not fail against any adversiy, and we would not give into the evils of terrorism.
4,200+ deaths since the war first “officially” began back on March 19th, 2003. Initially estimated to last only a few months, with the following year or two left to rebuild, we were led to believe that things would get better. We were led to believe that the majority of us would return home after a few months.
As May 2003 rolled around, President Bush announced total victory in Iraq. Could a war on terrorism possibly be won in only 3 short months? In all actuality, it was only the beginning of what would later be known as Operation Enduring Freedom. Enduring translated into years trying to rebuild a broken nation, years of casualties, years of a nation left to question the legitimacy of the war.
Along with the majority of the country, I too questioned the motives and necessity of troops being in Iraq. After seven long years of conflict, we are still sending our loved ones to fight for reasons unbeknownst to the majority of the human populace. But in six short weeks of being in Iraq, I have seen the change. I have noticed the progress, paid attention to the difference we are making, and seen the lives we’ve touch on a daily basis.
As supply trucks roll in, civil engineers are building infrastructures alongside Iraqis. Homes and schools are being repaired, work centers erected, roads paved, sewage lines buried beneath the ground. Not only have we been aiding in the rebuilding process, we’ve been providing jobs to those who have next to nothing. We’ve provided a source of income for a man to be able to support his family. We’ve trained people in construction, which will benefit them long after we have left this country. The road to self-preservation begins with the will to care for oneself. With training and guidance, the Iraq people are well on track to rebuilding a more stable area.
Brave Iraqi men and women have stepped forward to protect their homeland against those who have chosen to do harm to them. Not only do these forces fight for themselves, they fight for a better tomorrow. They train alongside the troops of several nations. Freedom is never easily attained; there will always be setbacks and challenges along the way. What matters most is they have chosen to stay true to their vision, not straying for a second.
For years we have been at war, now teetering on the brink of war with yet another country. The progress we have made has come at a significant cost to us dearly. Our nation has fallen into a near-recession, the American dollar has weakened while the cost of living has steadily increased, jobs have been terminated, and homes have been lost. The once most powerful nation in the world now struggles to survive into the next day. Unable to see victory in the near future, we are blinded by the dense fogs of combat. Will we ever end this war? Will our country ever go back to how it used to be, before the all the bloodshed?
As I finally arrived to my room on that cold December evening in Iraq, I had a sudden realization, an epiphany. The walk, much like the war, seemed to be a long and dangerous one to complete. It was a road rich in disappointments, false hopes, and a gloomy overcast. Though times had gotten hard and I wanted to give up several times, I pressed on to eventually reach the warmth and safety of my room. Had I given up, all of my efforts would have meant nothing, proving only to be a waste of time and energy.
Seven longs years, accompanied by slow progress and a multitude of setbacks, the warmth of home seems faint. Accomplishments appear minute and insignificant. However hard it gets out here during the holidays, every mission brings us closer to success. Every victory brings us closer to family. For now we press on, looking ahead to the warmth of peace, reuniting with loved ones, hoping our winter walk will soon end.
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