The Final Week

Yep, this is my last week in Iraq. There were times I thought this moment would never come, but now I'm amazed it is here. I am definitely ready though. We talk about running all the way through the finish line. I think I got a leg cramp last week. Three days in a row I was bone tired. My motivation is also seriously lacking. I'm trying to stay focused on the things I have to get done this week.

I was asked if I will miss this place. I won't miss being here, but there are aspects of it I will miss.

First and foremost, the people. The people are not much different from those I work with back in the Pentagon, but the shared experience of being here changes things. Last night was a perfect example. I finished my day by having dinner with my State Department friends. One of their translators is an Iraqi-born woman whose family owns a restaurant in Arizona. She is an amazing cook. She made a huge spread of food for the State group, a reporter and cameraman from Fox News, and me. We enjoyed some delicious Iraqi food and great conversation. That type of experience isn't unique to here, but I appreciate it more when deployed because it is a nice escape from being here.

The job. The sad truth is, as a member of the military, working in a combat zone is what I train and prepare for throughout my career. I'm certainly not a warmonger, but over here I see a direct application of what I do and immediate results. I've received a lot of positive feedback lately, so I feel I made a difference here. I don't get the same job satisfaction at the Pentagon. This is one of the main reasons I volunteered to deploy to Iraq. For lack of a better phrase, this is where the action is and I wanted to come here to do my part.

The simple life. When I was back in the States in February, I was just blown away by all the options us Americans have, whether it's shopping, eating, things to do, or whatever. There is something to be said for a more simplistic lifestyle. I'm not talking Walden Pond simple here, but less distractions, less noise (okay, other than the frickin' F-16s taking off, someone please make them stop! sorry), less commercialism. The lack of options draws people together and makes it easier to focus on things such as staying in shape.

So while I will happily say goodbye to Iraq next week, in some ways I will look back fondly on my time here

Out in the Real Iraq

Last week I was able to go off base into a couple of local villages for the first time. Being an agricultural area, the people here live pretty simply. So what I saw is much different than what someone in the Baghdad area would see. Not surprisingly, walking through the villages reminded me of being in Africa. This area was not favored by Saddam Hussein, so they have mostly dirt roads, inconsistent electricity, and lack clean water. The houses are mostly mud and brick construction with mud or cinder block walls separating yards, although there are some places nicer than others. I saw a building that was bombed by Coalition Forces back in 2003 and looks like nothing has been done with it since.

People came out and saw us as we walked around. You will occasionally get people who will give you a dirty look, but most seem happy to see us. Kids come up to us to shake our hands and ask for money, candy, or toys. Unfortunately, we taught them to do that when we gave handouts as what we thought was a goodwill gesture. That is symbolic for what is happening at the local government level. The Iraqis want us to solve their problems by telling people what to do, throwing money at it, or doing another construction project. We are trying to get them to develop Iraqi solutions to Iraqi problems by working within their own political and budgetary system. Those systems aren't working very well yet though, so I am sure it is very frustrating for the Iraqis. Building a democracy is tough work and will take many years. I hope Iraq continues down that path and I wish them well.

The first day I went out was to see a local government in action. We parked our MRAPs (the huge armored trucks) next to the town hall and walked in. Some of the guys stayed there to attend the city council meeting while I went with another group to walk around town. We were escorted by several soldiers who ensured no danger came our way, so you don't need to worry mom (I know it is pointless to say that). Our first stop was to see a local police officer. One of the guys with me works with the local police and judges, so he talked with the Iraqi police officer about various cases they are working. He promised to provide any info he received about a couple of guys we are looking for and we promised to look for evidence to help build the case on someone the Iraqis have in jail, pretty normal police work. The next stop was to see the judge. The courthouse is not like we think of courthouses. The judges have offices where they hear evidence and make their rulings. Being the important Americans, we were escorted past men and women waiting to make their case before the judge. My friend had never met this judge, so mainly it was a social call. The judge even had chai (hot tea) brought in for us. My friend told us later that it is unusual for a judge to do that. We left the courthouse and went back to the town hall. One of the soldiers went to a local store and brought back fresh flatbread and candy bars for us. The bread was delicious. I then went into the council room to watch the rest of the meeting. I didn't have anyone to translate the discussions for me, but it didn't look much different than a city council meeting you would see in the States. I don't know if that is a good thing or if I should feel sorry for the Iraqis. After the meeting, we returned to our MRAPs and went back to the base.

The next day a group of us accepted a mayor's invitation to have lunch at his house. It was an opportunity for us to have a local, home-cooked meal and having the Americans at his house gives him wasta (basically, power). We piled into the MRAPs again and drove out to his village. The MRAPs are too big for some of the local roads, so we parked and walked about half a mile. Again people were out and the kids came up to us and walked with us. Not surprisingly, the mayor had a very nice house. He had a gated driveway and a very green front lawn. The mayor came out to greet us and introduced his children to us. The whole time we were there, we only saw men and children (boys and girls). The women remained in a different part of the house, which is traditional. There were also other local politicians and businessmen there (again, all about the wasta). We went inside into a traditional room for visitors. Here are one of the other guys and I sitting in there.


We socialized for about an hour before tables were brought in. The Iraqis have an interesting way of eating. At one end of the tables, the men set up one group of food that included lamb, lamb in rice with fried noodles and peanuts, fish, soup, vegetables, and bread. There were three more groups like that. Here is the group that was by me:


About 15 of us stood around the tables and just started digging in. We didn't sit down. We didn't have plates. We didn't have utensils (other than a spoon for the soup). You just grabbed food either by using the bread or with your bare hands. Three Iraqis across from me posed for a picture with one of the guys taking a bite of a piece of lamb. After the picture was taken, the guy put the half-eaten piece of lamb into the dish with the rest of the meat. I made sure I didn't pick any food from that side of the plate. All of us ate until we had our fill. The soldiers who escorted us, if they were brave enough, came in and got to eat also. Some of the men then cleaned up after us. We sat back down to continue socializing. Naturally, chai was offered. After being there about 3 hours, we posed for some pictures, said our goodbyes, and walked back to the MRAPs with of course the kids escorting us. It was great to get off base and just be able to relax with some local Iraqis.

Easter in the Land of Islam

I stole the title from the pastor's sermon during this morning's Sunrise Service. I decided to go to the Protestant service rather than mass because I figure how many times will I have the opportunity to attend an outdoor service while the sun is coming up over Iraq. Hopefully just this once. Despite the wind and the haze obscuring the rising sun, it was a beautiful service. I really enjoy the contemporary music they played. The pastor gave a great sermon on "He is risen." Maybe it's the Catholic in me, but I can't say I was that inspired by the "inspirational dance." Still it was well worth getting up at 5am to go. Afterward, the buddy I went with and I went to breakfast.

I've spent the rest of the day just relaxing. After breakfast I took a nap and got up in time to go to lunch. Some days you just have to be a bum. I have a meeting today, but I decided not to go into work. I worked every other day--Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's Day, and even Groundhog Day--but I'm not going to work on this, the holiest day of the year. Although I'm not sure blogging and eating a chocolate bunny rabbit are the best ways to honor the resurrection of our Lord either. Oh well, Happy Easter!

A Taste of Iraq

I haven't had the opportunity to eat in a local restaurant or at an Iraqi's house yet, although I hope to before I leave. However, I did get to eat some authentic Iraqi food the past few days. On Thursday, two friends of mine went to an Iraqi restaurant that is off base. They had leftovers and shared them with me. There was shaved lamb, Iraqi pickles, something like pico de gallo, sautéed peppers, a rice dish, and, the staple of any Iraqi meal, pita bread. We made kebabs, aka sandwiches, with all the fixings. Fantastic. One of my friends, Sara, kept tearing off pieces of bread, picking up lamb with them, and then putting hummus on top. Delicious, but she kept giving them to me and pretty soon I was stuffed. Although the DFAC food is good, this was wonderful and a much appreciated change of pace.

I was invited by the same friends to join them for lunch at their office yesterday. Sara is well known for being a fantastic cook. She was born and grew up in Iraq before moving to the US. She started cooking Saturday night and finished about 1pm Sunday. The spread she laid out for the seven of us there was of Thanksgiving proportions. She made leg of lamb plus lamb meet for kebabs. There were two different rice dishes, potato curry with meatballs, tomato and pepper salad, hummus, and, of course, bread. We finished with traditional Iraqi chai (hot tea). This was by far the best meal I've had here. She did all this with only a two-burner hotplate and microwave. Amazing.

So I'm certainly not hurting for good food over here. It's a good thing I'm working out regularly.

My Front Lawn

You thought I was joking before when I said I would talk about my front lawn, didn't you? Nope, I even have proof:

Okay, so it would get me kicked out of any homeowners association in America, but at least it is green. So much of this place is brown, gray, or some variation of both of them. There is concrete everywhere, such as the T-walls that are at the top of this picture. People paint their unit symbol or other designs on them just to break up the scenery. So something green, anything green, is worth celebrating. The area around the base is not nearly so brown. We are located in the breadbasket of Iraq. The surrounding area is all farmland. One of the most popular crops in this area is grapes. I've been lucky that I've been able to fly off base in a helicopter, so I've been able to see all the green that surrounds us. Here is an example of what I'm talking about:

Dodgeball: A True Old Dog Story

Yesterday we knocked off early from work to spend some team building time hurling rubber balls at each other at high speeds. Or as it is more commonly known, dodgeball. Over 20 of us squared off on a basketball court with about 10 balls. Being a believer of leading by example, I was promptly hit by a ball in the first game, thus making me the first person eliminated. Adding injury to insult, I jammed my thumb when I tried to catch the ball. Thankfully it was on my left hand, so I was able to spend another hour being pummeled and occasionally pummeling someone else (don't worry mom, I didn't hurt anyone). It was a lot of fun and quite the workout.

After the adrenaline started to wear off, I realized my thumb was swelling up and really frickin' hurt. Another guy and I went to the chow hall for dinner. I put together a salad and sat down to eat it. Only one problem: the salad dressing is served in those individual-serving foil packets. Try opening one without using your left thumb. Not so easy, is it? After a couple of minutes of wrestling with it (because I'm too stubborn to ask my buddy for help), I finally got it open just enough to squeeze the dressing out. The time since then has been a lesson in evolution. (Sidebar: I'm a Christian but I believe in evolution. I believe it is God's hand at work.) I now truly appreciate how important opposable thumbs are. I've struggled with getting dressed, reading a book, being a Eucharistic minister (think about wiping the chalice with the purificator), and numerous other mundane tasks. I think working out tomorrow morning is out of the question. At least until my thumb turns back to a normal human color and has most of its former functionality. Despite the thumb, I had a good time at dodgeball and would do it again (once I forget how the rest of my body aches too).

I'll close this entry asking you to remember the Duranso family. Al Duranso--husband, father, and grandfather--passed away recently. The Duransos lived down our street when I was growing up and are related to us on my mom's side of the family. Having lost my dad, I have an idea of what they are experiencing. I also know that I was comforted by the love and support we received from our family and friends. So I ask that you keep the Duransos in your prayers during this difficult time for them.

Happy St. Patty's Day!

Hope everyone is having/had a wonderful St. Patrick's Day. I myself had a great day. I woke up at 5:10 to join my friends for a 5K run the base was having. Unfortunately I didn't get a t-shirt, but I had a great time anyways. The eight of us who went to the run together went out for breakfast afterward. When I got back to my room, I goofed off for a little bit before going into work late. Nothing special, good or bad, happened at work. At the end of the day, another guy and I did a radio interview with a woman in the Florida Panhandle for a radio station in Iowa. If you figure it out, let me know because I was confused. We had a good time with it. We talked about how the State Department, Army, and Air Force are working together to work with the local Iraqis to make this area better. I look forward to hearing how it turns out. I'll post the link once it's available online. So even though there was no beer (green or otherwise) involved, it was still a very good St. Patty's Day.

For those who didn't see it on my Facebook page, I stole this from Fr. Chuck's blog, the priest at my home parish in Alexandria, VA, and he got it from a mutual friend of ours.

Paddy was driving down the street in a sweat because he had an important meeting and couldn’t find a parking place. Looking up to heaven he said, ‘Lord take pity on me. If you find me a parking place I will go to Mass every Sunday for the rest of me life and give up me Irish Whiskey!’ Miraculously, a parking place appeared. Paddy looked up again and said, ‘Never mind, I found one.’

Holy Cow, Yes It's a New Blog Entry

As my time in Iraq winds down, I thought what do I wish I had done during my time here. I decided it was reading and writing more (I'm feeling pretty good about the amount of arithmetic I've done). So in order to be more prolific (seeing as how I haven't written in almost 2 months, this paragraph already qualifies as "more prolific"), I decided I shouldn't wait to write an epic but instead write shorter pieces more often. Here is hopefully the start of something.

The big news today is I submitted my 2 weeks' notice to the general. No, this doesn't mean I'll spend my remaining time in Iraq kicking back at the pool drinking Mai Tais. Although that may be good preparation if my next assignment is Hawaii. What it means is I told him I need to quit one of the two jobs I've been doing for the past 5 months. I've been stressing lately that I've been messing up times two. If I tried to concentrate on one, the other suffered, and vice versa. So I did poor at both of them. The general told me I could quit the one job when he gave me the second one, so I only have my own stubbornness to blame. The rest of the day went great once I had that load off my shoulders. I also feel a lot better about my remaining time here.

I still plan on writing about the rest of my African trip. If nothing else, it'll be something to remind me when what's left of my memory is gone. Until then, I'll write about deep, introspective topics such as my front lawn. Until next time, cheers!

Africa: The Beginning

My first stop in Africa was Johannesburg. The airport is nice but a madhouse. When I walked into the main terminal, there was the usual large crowd of people waiting. There were also plenty of people offering taxi or tour services. I wasn't sure when the government would get me there, so I didn't even have a hotel room reserved yet. I stopped at the tourist information desk and asked the lady where she recommended. I looked at the list she gave me and chose the $100 a night place over the $300 a night ones. It wasn't especially fancy, but it was very nice and had a great (and free!) breakfast. It was located in a gated community among some very nice houses. So it was a safe place but nothing was within walking distance.

While at the tourist information desk, I also asked about tours. I had hoped to go to Kruger National Park, but I was told it was a 2-day trip and I didn't want to use all my time in Joburg for that. So then I looked at options in and around Joburg. I eventually decided on a driving tour of Joburg and Soweto, a visit to the Apartheid Museum, and a trip out to the area known as the Cradle of Humankind. The tours were a bit pricey (over $300 for 2 days), but I was getting personal service by a trained tour guide driving me around in his car. Desmond (that's him below) was extremely knowledgeable about the area and its history and could speak 10 of the 11 languages commonly used in the area. I learned a lot from him as we drove around the city. I was also glad he was the one driving. I wasn't ready to drive on the left side of the road in a city of over 9 million people.

Day 1 was spent driving around Joburg and Soweto. Joburg is, at best, a mess. Many businesses left the city in the early 90s after apartheid was lifted because of fear the country would descend into anarchy. So the downtown area is a collection of abandoned buildings. People from other African countries are now squatting in them, have set up stalls along the streets, and walk everywhere with no regard for vehicle traffic. There are some areas of downtown that are flourishing because the government has cleaned them up as part of a concerted effort to look good for the 2010 World Cup. Still, most of the businesses are in the northern suburbs now. Soweto, a township of Joburg, is another area the government is cleaning up. Desmond grew up in Soweto, so he knew the area well. First he showed me a 4-room house that was built by the government and is the most common lodging for the locals. Our next stop was what used to be the most common lodging for locals, a shantytown (now euphemistically called an informal settlement). Even here the government is doing what it can to make conditions better by providing electricity and water delivery. After that we went to a Catholic church, the only church that remained open during the Soweto Uprising of 1976, an important step in the fight against apartheid. You can still see bullet holes in the ceiling from when police went into the church to break up peaceful gatherings. Our last stop of the day was the Apartheid Museum. I was amazed how they justified the reasons for their policies and the measures they took to keep them in place. There was a section on Nelson Mandela. He is quite a man to go through what he did and still believe in a non-violent solution. I am inspired by stories like his, Gandhi's, and MLK's. It was a long but very interesting day.

The second day was a drive out into the countryside to visit an excavation site and museum that are part of the Cradle of Humankind. The drive out from Joburg was about an hour and a half through very pretty countryside. Desmond continued educating me on South Africa. We went to Sterkfontein Caves, a UNESCO World Heritage Site and the so-called Cradle of Humankind (I say so-called because Kenya also claims to be the Cradle). Many fossils have been found in the caves, including Mrs. Ples, the earliest human ancestor fossil found. Walking through the caves was a good time. I joined up with a group of accountants on a field trip. The ladies were giggling anytime we had to crawl under or over rocks. I'm surprised some of them made it, it was 200 feet down into the caves and not your basic walk in a park. The next stop was Maropengo, where other fossils have been found and there is a museum about the Cradle of Humankind. The museum has many hands-on displays and would be a great place for kids, but not so great for adults. Another benefit to having someone else drive--I slept on the ride back to Joburg. I took it easy the rest of the day, even going clothes shopping at a mall near my hotel.

All-in-all, Joburg was a good way to ease into my vacation. Two days was plenty of time. The only reason I would go back would be to see Kruger. Next stop: Livingstone, Zambia to see Victoria Falls.

Out of Iraq

I've been back for over 3 weeks, so it's past time I write about my trip. My first priority was to post my pictures from the trip and that took much longer than I expected. You can find them either on my Facebook page or at http://picasaweb.google.com/weissx4. I'm still working on the captions for them. So beyond posting the pictures, I'll just blame it on writer's block. Now that I've started, I'm finding a lot to say. This entry is all about getting down to South Africa. I'll write another two or three blog entries about my time in Africa.

I had a fantastic time on my trip, even better than I hoped. My luggage never got lost, every place I stayed was terrific, I didn't get mugged as I anticipated, none of the food made me sick (well, not for long), and every location was beautiful. I intentionally didn't worry about any money I spent while I on the trip. I figured it was a once-in-a-lifetime trip and not the time to be counting nickels and dimes (or South African rand even). After I got back home and checked my credit cards, I figured out I spent about $8,000. It was worth every dollar and I have no regrets about the cost.

When someone does a 1-year tour over here, the government pays for an airplane ticket anywhere in the world for the person's mid-tour leave. So the good news is the government pays for it. The bad news is you are dependent on the government to get you there. My travel to the continent took a little longer than I expected. The morning I was flying out of Iraq was very foggy. So I spent an extra 4 hours hanging around the passenger terminal, reading, and standing in Army formations. Apparently it's a natural instinct for Soldiers to fall into formation when standing in a group. Not quite so natural for an Airman, but I did my best impression of a Soldier. When we eventually did get to Kuwait, there was more standing around and formations. After some time, I got my commercial ticket and a cot in a large tent. The cot had a lovely green plastic cover, like you would have for a kid who wets his bed (no comment), but no linens. I was told a lieutenant colonel doesn't rate linens. Thankfully the BX was still open so I could buy a travel pillow and fleece blanket.

Other than shivering through the night, I didn't mind spending a day and a half in Kuwait. 1. I wasn't in Iraq. 2. I had time to make more of my travel arrangements (planning ahead is for wimps). 3. I didn't have a care in the world. It was a nice break from the usual frenetic pace of Iraq. The evening after I arrived in Kuwait, I took a 1-hour plus-long shuttle from the base to Kuwait City International Airport. So what did I do there? You got it, more waiting. My flight wasn't for another 5 hours and I couldn't even check my bags for another 2 hours. I went to Caribou Coffee, a place I frequent often back in the States, and enjoyed more time to relax.

From Kuwait I stopped in Dubai before making my way to Johannesburg. I was flying on Emirates Air and they are based in Dubai, that is why I stopped there. Dubai airport is huge! The bus ride from the airplane to the terminal was 20 minutes at least. During the ride, I saw the world's largest building that has been in the news lately, Burj Dubai. No surprise, it's big and it towered over the rest of the city. Inside the terminal was a multitude of stores and restaurants. The stores were the usual electronics, books, and clothes but there was even a grocery store. If you ever have the chance to fly Emirates Air, I recommend them. Every chair has its own entertainment center. I watched a couple of movies, including District 9 (it's set in Johannesburg, so I figured I had to watch it), during the flight down to Johannesburg. If you have money to burn, I recommend flying first class on Emirates. They have the newest chairs, the ones that lay completely flat and have a curtain you can put around yourself. My government-paid ticket wasn't nearly that nice but it did the trick, it got me to Africa.

During the next week (I promise I won't take another 3 weeks), I'll write about Johannesburg, Victoria Falls, Kenya, and Cape Town. If you have any questions or if there is something specific you want to know, please let me know in the comments.

Thanksgiving in Iraq

Let me say up front, I had a great Thanksgiving. If I can't be with my family for a holiday, the next best place is to be deployed with my Air Force family. This Thanksgiving was definitely better than my two Thanksgivings in Virginia. It's just not possible for it to be better than last year's Thanksgiving though. Last year I was with my mom, Terry, John, Henrik, and David for Thanksgiving, mom and Terry's wedding, and mom's birthday. Nothing could top that.

This is my third deployed Thanksgiving. I don't remember much about the last one in 2004. I fondly remember the one in France in 1994. My unit had a small corner of a French Air Force base. People in the unit set up tables and decorated the central room of the building where our offices were. There was quite a selection of food spread out over the tables. I filled up a plate and took it back to the office I shared with two enlisted Airmen. We had our fill of some very good food and great conversation. Yep, that was a good one too.

I worked on Thanksgiving, but it was a slow day so I mainly worked on getting ready for my upcoming trip. At lunchtime, a group of over 20 people from work went to the DFAC together. The DFAC was all decked out. There were streamers all over the place and Thanksgiving-themed paper decorations everywhere. What was really impressive though were the decorations made from food. There was a life-size turkey made from potato chips. A 5-foot long alligator made from pineapples and a watermelon for the mouth. Bread baked into different shapes, 4-foot long sheetcakes, a gigantic cornucopia, and a huge eagle that I have no idea what it was made from. There were even more decorations, such as a Statue of Liberty and Taj Mahal (I guess for the Indians at the first Thanksgiving?), but you get the idea. Why don't I have a picture of all that? That's a story in itself.

I'm watching people run around at lunch taking pictures and wondering why I didn't bring my camera. I decided I would stop by the DFAC at dinner, whether I was hungry or not, with my camera to get pictures then. So after work, I went to my room and grabbed my camera. I decided to go to the BX to pick up a few things before going to the DFAC. I got all the way to the entrance of the BX before I realized I forgot my ID card. You need it to get into the BX or DFAC. I went back to my office, grabbed my ID card, and returned to the BX. When I got back to the BX, it was closed because there had been a fire inside. I stood around for about 15 minutes before giving up on it opening soon. I headed over to the DFAC to take pictures and grab something to eat. I went inside the DFAC, took out my camera, and...dead battery. UGH! Oh well, I had a second Thanksgiving meal (ham instead of turkey this time) and went back to my room to watch the Lions lose. The picture below is from a coworker who took a picture of the lunch group.

Hope everyone had a blessed Thanksgiving!

Into Africa

Those of us who are here for a year get a 2-week vacation. The Army has a similar policy. Usually it is taken at about the half-way, or 6-month, point. I hit 6 months last week. I'll take my leave just short of being here for 7 months. I like that because I'll have less than 5 months left after I return. The military provides us with a commercial airline ticket to anywhere we want to go. I'm sure my mom would prefer I come home to see her, but I decided to take a trip to Africa.

I'll fly out of here on 30 Nov and initially go to Kuwait. I'll wait there until the military can get me on a commercial flight to Johannesburg, South Africa. I plan on spending a few days there. I'll check out the city, including some museums. I'll also do a day safari in Kruger National Park. From there I'll fly up to Livingstone, Zambia. I chose there because it is the closest city to Victoria Falls. Unfortunately it is the dry season, so the falls won't be in their full glory. Oh well. I'll also check out some parks in that area. Nairobi, Kenya is the next stop after Livingstone. There are multiple museums in the city, national parks are nearby, and Mount Kenya isn't far away. I'll take a day trip to see Mount Kilimanjaro in Tanzania (I decided to pass on the 6-10 day trip for climbing the mountain). I'll leave Nairobi and go back to South Africa, Cape Town this time. I have wanted to go to Cape Town ever since I saw pictures from a visit by friends of mine. I love that the mountains are right next to the ocean. I'm going to experience both, Table Mountain and the beaches. I'll also go out to the Cape of Good Hope and go where I can see sharks and penguins. I'll spend some time relaxing before I have to return to Iraq.

Obviously I'm very excited about the trip. Not only am I looking forward to the experience, but I'm ready for a break from here. I'm also looking forward to wearing civilian clothes, not shaving, and having a beer. My mom is concerned about the crime rate in African cities. She said she'll be happy when my trip is over. I asked her, "So you'll be happy when I'm safe and sound in Iraq?" We had a good chuckle about that.

I promise to give you a recap of the trip and provide pictures when I get back.

My New Office

Shortly before I arrived at Balad, my office was finished being built and my predecessor moved into it. The building I am in has been there since this was an Iraqi base. It had a courtyard that was closed in to create additional offices including mine. Being a new office, it had nice clean white walls and a new tile floor. My furniture included a new modular desk with a matching vertical bookshelf, a comfortable mesh desk chair, and a large leather chair that was very comfortable. Once my 40+ inch flat panel TV was hung on the wall (it took 4 months to get someone to do it!), it was a great office to work in and watch football on Saturday and Sunday nights (after work hours, I promise I'm not wasting your tax dollars). Easily one of the best offices in the building.

I'm talking about it in the past tense because I recently was moved to another office. A few weeks ago the general told me he wanted my office for a waiting room for his visitors. He said he chose my office because it is the closest to his (which is true) and I shouldn't take it personally. However, this news came at the same time as a couple of other less than stellar comments about me, so it was hard not to take it personal. It took a couple of days to get over it. I was happier though when I found out there was another room in the headquarters building so I wouldn't have to find some place in another building. When it came time to make the move, it wasn't that big of deal to me.

My new office isn't as nice as my old one, to put it nicely. Considering Iraq's history, I could imagine it being used as a place to beat up people Saddam didn't like. It has a prison shower motif to it due to the dingy yellow tile on the floor and walls. The only thing missing is a drain in the middle of the floor. I still don't mind the move because I was given a large wooden desk that I really like and I don't look around the room anyways. When I'm in there, I'm focused on my computer screens. What did bother me was the constant stream of people coming by my first day in the office to offer their condolences for me getting shafted. I appreciated the concern, but I had heard it enough by the seventh person. I did laugh when someone asked me if I knew where my stapler is (Office Space reference). The pity party died off after a couple of days and it's no longer a big deal.

I only bring this up because of the latest development. We had a heavy thunderstorm Friday night. When I got to my office, I could tell the ceiling in my office leaked. Where did it leak? Right above my desk where I have all of my electronics--two computers, two phones, and two monitors. Thankfully nothing was damaged. There is a duct right above my desk that obviously wasn't sealed very well. I could put my desk on the other side of the room, but then I would be looking right into the ladies' bathroom. Um, no. Instead I put in a request to get the duct sealed. Hopefully they take care of it soon (at least faster than they installed the TV in my old office; speaking of the old office, I don't think it has been used once in the 2 weeks it has been a waiting room). The forecast called for another thunderstorm last night, but thankfully it missed us. In the meantime, I'll break out the umbrella and trash bags to cover everything. Still beats the heck out of being in a tent in the middle of the desert.

If You Can't Laugh at Yourself...

I don't usually do CrossFit on Saturday but decided to last weekend since I missed a couple of days during the week. The class starts at 0545. I wanted to be sure I didn't oversleep (it's been a problem for me). I woke up at 31 past the hour. I got up and got dressed. After I left my room, I checked my watch. The time was 0046. I thought crap, I'm late. It took a few steps for my brain to start working and realize not only wasn't I late, I was 5 hours early. I chuckled at myself (it was definitely a moment worth a chuckle) and went back to bed. I did manage to wake up at the right time and made it to class on time.

Last Sunday I joined other people from my office for a softball tournament to kick off the government's annual charity drive. I love playing softball, but I'm beginning to think it doesn't like me. In the first game we played, I hit a fly ball into the outfield. It should have been an easy out, but it bounced off the outfielder's glove. I was between first and second when I saw that happen, so I turned on the old-man jets. They burned out pretty fast. I felt a twinge in my left hamstring as I got to second base. We were behind at the time, so I had to decide if I should push it or pull up. I pushed it. Somehow I scored on the play, putting us ahead. We ended up losing by two runs but it was exciting for a little while. In the second game, I was playing shortstop. There was a guy on first when a grounder was hit to me. I bobbled it a little bit but then grabbed it with the intent to step on second and make a throw to first to try for the double play. When I looked up after bobbling it, the guy coming from first was on top of me and I couldn't avoid him. He ran into me full speed. I went flying. I was rolling around on the ground, saying words I won't repeat here, and desperately trying to breathe. It was a few minutes before I could catch my breath. Someone asked me how I was doing. I said I've had better days. I then asked the guy who ran into me if he played linebacker. He said no, strong safety. I was told later the guy was at least 6'2" and 220lbs. All that matters though is I got the out. We later lost that game in extra innings by 1 run. We were eliminated from the tournament and I hurt like heck, but we had a lot of fun.

This morning I ran in the Army 6.8 Miler. The race is actually 10 miles long. I was supposed to meet my racing partner, Andria, at 0345 and the race started at 0445. I woke up at 0500 (told you I've had a problem with that). As soon as I woke up, I knew I was late. I rolled out of bed, got dressed, and put my contacts in. I didn't know the race course, but I knew it went by my housing area. I found the course and followed it back toward the start. After walking for about a mile, I saw Andria. She was pissed! She asked where I had been and what my excuse was. As I said, she was pissed. I ran with her. She was moving really fast (probably because she was pissed) and I wondered if I could keep up with her. As we ran and talked, she eventually forgave me. We did really well, better than either of us expected. We hoped to run under 9-minute miles (I should say I hoped and Andria agreed to run slower so I could keep up with her). She finished in under 1:17, which is about 7:40-minute miles. I was happy to keep up that pace and still felt strong at the end. She got an Army Ten Miler shirt when we finished. I looked around but didn't see any Army 6.8 Miler shirts.

So wherever I end up in life, at least I'll have myself to laugh at.

Missing Kenin

For those who don't know, Kenin is my dog. Outside of my immediate family, he is the most important "person" in the world to me. I adopted him in April 1997. There were some growing pains as we learned to live together. Most of the pains were mine as he did some damage to my new house--tearing out all the window screens when I left him outside, digging a whole in the living room carpet, and chewing up the moulding in the kitchen, to name a few things. Thank God for a handy father and father-in-law. But then, and now, he is well worth any trouble he caused me.

That was never more true than when my ex-wife asked for a separation in June 2006. This was just weeks before we were to drive out of Alaska together to make our way to my next assignment at the Pentagon. So when I drove out of Anchorage, it was just Kenin and me in the truck. He was my copilot for the drive from Alaska to Virginia, including stops in Vancouver and Michigan (like an AF copilot, he wasn't much help with figuring out where we were going). I have some great pictures of him standing on the back seat looking out the window. Our first extended stop was in Vancouver to visit my brother John. All three of us enjoyed the few days we had together. From there we made the cross-country drive to see my mom and other brother David in Michigan. Although it would have been nice if he had taken his turn behind the wheel, he still makes a great traveling companion. We had a great visit in Michigan. Kenin loves running up the stairs to my mom's condo. After a week in Michigan, it was time to drive to Virginia and finish our 5,000-mile odyssey.

The first year or so in Virginia was a very difficult time in my life. The future of my marriage was very uncertain. I had a decent apartment, but it was very lonely. I received a lot of support from my family, especially my mom. However, they of course couldn't be there in Virginia with me. I don't know if I could have handled coming back to the apartment day after day if Kenin wasn't there to enthusiastically greet me everytime. There is a dog park just a 10-minute walk from the apartment. We went there often, although I should have taken him more than I did. We also went on many hikes. We went to almost every park in Northern Virginia that had a trail and even out west to the Shenandoah Valley. I'll treasure those memories for the rest of my life. I give my mom and Kenin credit for getting me through that time.

When I thought I might be deploying, my main concern was what to do with Kenin. Because of how important he is to me, I wouldn't leave him with just anybody. I asked my mom who she thought would be willing to take him. She suggested Mark and Teresa. Mark's family lived next to mine when we were growing up, so we've known each other our whole lives. Our families remain very close. Teresa didn't hesitate to say yes when my mom asked her. At that time I thought I was going to be gone for just 6 months. When I found out it would be a year, I called Teresa and again she said yes without hesitating. God's hand was obviously on this decision because I could not have found a better family to leave him with. Mark and Teresa send me updates on how he is doing, my mom tells me how well he is being taken care of, and even Jenny, Mark's sister, has visited him and told me how happy he is. I am very grateful that he is with such a loving family.

Other than when I first dropped him off at Mark and Teresa's house, I haven't really felt like I am missing him. Even when I received updates on him, it didn't affect me much. However, when Jenny sent me pictures of her and Mark and Teresa's kids playing with Kenin, then I missed him badly. I especially felt his absence when I saw this picture.

That is such a classic look for him and brings back such great memories. For a while I had the picture set as my computer's wallpaper. I would "pet" him before shutting down my computer for the night. I told Jenny not to feel bad that the picture made me sad because I love it and am glad she sent it. So now I think about him more and I still miss him, but it is okay because I know he is doing well.

Are You Ready for Some Football?

Apparently the Detroit Lions defense wasn't! Losing to the Saints 45-27 and letting their QB throw for 6 touchdowns. It wasn't shown live here, which is just as well. It was replayed on Monday, but for some reason I didn't feel like watching it.

Despite the inauspicious start for the Lions, I'm still thrilled the football season started. I, like many others here, have been looking forward to this for weeks. Watching football over here, like many other things, is just a little bit different. We are 7 hours ahead of the Eastern time zone, so the early college football games start at 1900 and the early pro games start at 2000. I can usually watch either half or all of those games. It is bedtime for me when the mid-afternoon games are starting. The night games have already started when I wake up in the morning, so I can watch part of them before church on Sunday or work on Monday and Tuesday. The daylight savings time change will make it easier to see the night games but harder to watch even the early afternoon ones. Wah!

Those who know me know I'm a diehard Michigan Wolverines fan. Of course I root for my alma mater, the Air Force Academy, but I live and die with the U of M. All last week I was looking forward to the Michigan-Notre Dame game. For me, ND is the second most hated rival behind Ohio State. I spent all day last Saturday looking forward to the game since it started at 2230. At game time, I was comfortably settled into my recliner (yes, I'm spoiled) and ready for some football. I watched the game nervously as it went back and forth. About halftime, which was around midnight, I almost fell asleep. I am so glad I stayed awake. What a game! When Michigan scored the go-ahead touchdown with 10 seconds left in the game, I had to restrain myself from yelling and possibly waking up my neighbor. I was also really excited when CMU (where my brother John went to school) upset MSU on a last second field goal (sorry Jenny). I can't wait for the rest of the season (in fact, I'm watching the UM/EMU game as I type this).

In addition to watching the games, it is nice to have something to look forward each week other than work. People mark their time here in different ways. Some people count each day. That would drive me crazy. The DFACs (aka chow halls) have different specialties on different days. One day will be Chinese, another Mongolian BBQ, another Arabic, and so on. So some people mark their day by when their favorite food is being served. Even after 4 months here I still can't remember the DFAC schedule, so that doesn't work for me. I'm not counting down my days, but I am looking forward to football making the time pass. Also, I already figured out I'll have 3 months left after the Super Bowl and I'll be close to finding out where my next assignment is. Therefore, football is my calendar.

Watching football brings a taste of home to the deployment. I can't say this enough, I have it good that I can watch the games, especially in the comfort of my room. I don't have to get dressed up to watch the game at a rec center or, even worse, not be able to watch the games at all and have to wait a day or two to get results. Hallejuah for the Armed Forces Network and having a TV in my room and office (where I'm at now). Go Blue, go Air Force, and go Lions!

Murph

I mentioned in the past doing the CrossFit exercise program. The centerpiece of the program is the workout of the day (WOD). The WODs vary widely, but they always include some combination of metabolic conditioning (aka aerobic activity), Olympic weight lifts, and/or gymnastic movements (i.e., pullups, pushups). Many of the workouts are "named" WODs. The names are either those of girls or heroes. The hero WODs, such as Murph (I'll explain where the name came from later), are usually pretty brutal.

This past Saturday a group of nine of us met at 0530 at the stadium that is on base to do Murph. There were six men and two women doing the workout. The ninth person was Vanessa (the woman I dropped during the fire muster but who carried me without a problem). She did Murph on Friday so she was there to be our motivator, timer, and photographer (I'll post my pictures when I download them off my camera). The workout is running a mile (we did it around a 1/4 mile track), doing 100 pullups/200 pushups/300 air squats, and then running another mile. Oh yeah, you do this while wearing your body armor vest (about 25-30 pounds). We broke down the pullups/pushups/squats into 20 sets of 5/10/15. Some people didn't wear the vest and others, like me, took off the vest part way through the workout. Vest or no vest, it is a very difficult workout.

We all started together on the run. Some people took off like a shot and some of us (yours truly) were happy to plod along at a more modest pace. The "like a shot" group completed the mile in under 7 minutes. I came in at over 9 minutes. Then it was time to start the real part of the workout. The first couple of sets went pretty well. After that I started to feel the effect of the vest. Before we started, we attached resistance bands to the pullup bars. So when I got tired, I put my foot in the other end of the band and used it to help me up. I still did full movement pushups and squats. While I was in the middle of my exercises, one of the guys took off to do his second 1 mile run. Someone asked me what set I was on. I said I'm not going to tell you now after seeing that guy take off (I was only on 8 or 9). After 10 sets of the exercises, half the workout, I dropped the vest. I kept plugging away and eventually completed the exercises. I might have been able to do the pushups and squats with the vest on, but there is no way I could have done the pullups. I put my vest back on for my second 1 mile run. I ran (if you can call it that) at an even slower pace than I did my first mile, but I wanted to do it right. I had hopes at one time of beating Vanessa's time. She completed Murph in 1 hr, 8 minutes. I started my run at 1 hr, 1 minute, so I knew there was no chance of beating her (as I said in the fire muster, I knew she could kick my butt). I finished the WOD in 1 hr, 12 minutes.

So why is that session of self-abuse called Murph? As I mentioned earlier, it is named for a hero, Navy LT Michael Murphy. Here is what the CrossFit website says about it:

"In memory of Navy Lieutenant Michael Murphy, 29, of Patchogue, N.Y., who was killed in Afghanistan June 28th, 2005. This workout was one of Mike's favorites and he'd named it 'Body Armor.' From here on it will be referred to as 'Murph' in honor of the focused warrior and great American who wanted nothing more in life than to serve this great country and the beautiful people who make it what it is."

That doesn't begin to tell you what a hero LT Murphy was. He was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor, the highest military honor. He was a Navy SEAL on a scouting mission in Afghanistan when his 4-man team was ambushed by over 50 enemy. LT Murphy deliberately exposed himself to enemy fire so that he could get in a better position to radio for help. During the attempt to rescue the SEALs, a helicopter was shot down killing all 16 aboard. The SEAL team continued to fight against an overwhelming force. Eventually, three of the men, including LT Murphy, were killed and only Hospital Corpsman 2nd Class (SEAL) Marcus Luttrell was rescued. You can read the entire story here.

So why does anyone do something like Murph? For me, it's the same reason I do triathlons, the upcoming AF Half Marathon, or other events like those. It is a challenge to test myself. Also, even though I dropped the vest halfway through the exercises, I felt very proud of myself for finishing the full Murph. I'm not saying I'm looking to do it again anytime soon, but I'm glad I did it.

Fire Muster

A fire muster is a fire department competition consisting of several different events from a dummy drag, putting out a "fire" using a bucket brigade, rolling up a hose, and spraying a hose at a target. All of the activities resemble training the firefighters use to keep their lifesaving skills sharp. Each challenge is just a sample of the complex and vital job for firefighters and first responders. Basically, the events gave us non-firefighters an opportunity to walk in their shoes. The team event included 24 five-people teams from across the base competing in four challenges against each other. All this took place on a Sunday morning, 9 August.

I was on a team with the wing's lead lawyer (Josh), two people from his staff (Jim and Kat), and the wing's Sexual Assault Response Coordinator (Vanessa). All of us had to participate in each event. The first one was a series of different firefighter carries. We started with Vanessa using the fireman's carry to carry me the length of the basketball court. She then set me down and we switched. I only got a few steps before I fell flat on my face and dropped Vanessa on her behind. Thankfully she was very understanding. I was incredibly embarassed. We got back up but lost valuable time. Not surprising, we were in last after the first event.

It was an intense competition, Jim is really into it.

Next was the bucket brigade. We had to put our bucket in a pool, run over to a wooden house, and throw the water on top of the house. A tube in the house poured the water into a large trash can next to the house. We had to run back and forth until the trash can was about 2/3 full. I think I redeemed myself for the earlier fall. So if you ever need someone for a bucket brigade, I'm your man. Our team did much better in that event, 9th place and we moved up to the middle of the pack overall.

Josh and Kat leading the way, look at my form rolling out the hose!

Next event required rolling out two firehoses the length of the basketball court, connecting them together and to a water supply, and then spraying the wooden house until a softball popped out the top. I thought we did pretty well, but we ended up near the bottom.

Josh looks like a pro on the firehose and Kat looks like she is hanging on for dear life.

Josh is on the hose and I'm second, trust me.

The last event was called "tug of war" but it was actually two teams facing off against each other with firehoses. The teams both sprayed at a target on a rope over the court, the object being to push the target past the other team's line. It was a best two out of three. Those hoses put out a lot of water and it was impossible to see anything. We got spanked twice. Overall, we ended up tied for third from the bottom. Oh well, I had a blast and look forward to doing it again while I'm here.

The happy, albeit soaked, team.

My fellow blogger, Jake, also participated in the team event with his coworkers. He was manning the hose for his team for the "tug of war" competition. He was incredible and they just blew people away. Unfortunately, they ran out of water or else I'm sure Jake and his team would have won that event.

There was also an individual competition called the Firefighter's Challenge. It is known as the toughest 2 minutes in firefighting. I wish I had signed up for it but I was a scaredy cat. It was basically an obstacle course. The course was carrying a "hotel pack", a firehose folded up and tied down, the length of the basketball court and then back through a set of cones...pulling on a rope tied to a rolled up firehose at the far end of the basketball court until you pulled the hose to you...using a sledgehammer to hit a large tire with a sandbag in it along and then off a 6-foot long bench...running the length of the court and dragging back a firehose; after getting to the free-throw line, turning on the hose and spraying a ball off the top of a cone...climbing up and down a 15-foot ladder three times...and finally dragging a 180-pound dummy the length of the court. Whew! It was a lot of fun to watch. There were men's and women's competitions and a team competition between the senior officers in the wing versus the senior enlisted of the wing. Vanessa, the women I dropped, took third place in the women's competition. She definitely could kick my butt, so I'm glad she didn't after I dropped her on hers. This is a picture of her doing the dummy drag. The guys around her are spotters so that she doesn't fall. She did an amazing job!

All in all, it was a great way to spend a Sunday and fun to do something different. It certainly helped me appreciate what firefighters have to go through.

The Gamble

The Gamble is the title of a book by Thomas Ricks that I have been reading for the past couple of months (too much tv watching, not enough reading). It is the second book Ricks wrote about the Iraq War. His first book, Fiasco, described the disaster that ensued after our invasion of Iraq in 2003. The title of The Gamble is a reference to the surge in troops and effort in 2006 that essentially prevented a disaster, both on the ground here in Iraq and for the US on the international stage. The surge was more than just an increase in the number of boots on the ground. It was also a major change in strategy, operations, and tactics. At the strategic level the focus shifted from figuring out how to get out of the country as painlessly as possible to protecting the Iraqi people. Operationally, US forces began working with and even hired insurgents who had been attacking them just weeks or even days prior. The significant change in tactics was putting troops out into the local populace. This helped the troops learn the area they were protecting, ensured insurgents couldn’t move into the area after the US left, and, most importantly, encouraged the Iraqis to assist in the security operations rather than tacitly or overtly supporting the insurgents. No one can now say the surge didn’t work (I was among the skeptics at the beginning).

I assume you heard about the 30 June deadline for us to move our forces out of Iraqi cities. That date was established as part of the Security Agreement signed between the US and Iraq. Prime Minister Maliki, the leader of Iraq, declared 30 June as a national holiday on par with Iraq evicting the occupying British forces in 1920. Not exactly a “thanks for a job well done.” You may have heard about a memo from a senior advisor in Baghdad that was recently leaked (go here for a link to a NYT article about it). This advisor, Col Reese, says we should declare victory and go home. The current plan is to reduce our combat forces in Iraq to 50,000 (currently about 130,000) by August 2010. Col Reese says we should completely leave the country by August 2010. At the end of The Gamble, Ricks presents many competing theories about how long the US should remain in Iraq. They range from proposals similar to Col Reese’s to keeping combat forces here indefinitely. The author himself thinks we are only at the halfway point of our time here, meaning we will be here until 2015 or later. My problem with all of those theories is they are based on what the US wants to do. What about the Iraqis?

I think there soon will be a second gamble in Iraq. The gamble this time will be by the Iraqis though, not us. Not only have we left the cities, but now we defer to the Iraqis to lead operations against the insurgents. I’ve often heard times when the Iraqi Army told our guys to stay home because they don’t need us. I don’t have a problem with that. This is their country and they should shoulder the responsibility for it. I’m just not sure the Iraqis are ready for it. Regardless, I think whoever wins their national elections in January 2010 will tell us it is time for us to go. We may get until August 2010 just because the sheer logistics of it, but they will want us out sooner rather than later. Sorry mom, I don’t think this means I will be coming home early. The Iraqis will need the USAF and other, specialized groups to remain because they don’t have the capability to replace us yet. The rules for us are changing and they are being written by the Iraqis. I’m certain, whether they are truly ready or not, they will become even more assertive after next year’s elections. I pray that they are ready.

Another Voice in the Desert

I am in the same building as the wing's Public Affairs office (essentially the AF press corps). I was talking one day with one of the guys in the office. He heard I was writing a blog and was interested because he is writing one too. So we talked that day, and since then, about what to write on and how to say it.

Jake is writing his blog for the Arizona Daily Star. They want him to give an Airman's perspective on what it is like to be over here. He is an excellent writer (quite honestly, he is much better than me) and I have thoroughly enjoyed reading his posts. Here is the beginning of the latest one:

Day 23: No pressure
07/24/2009 12:52 PM
SSgt. Jacob Richmond
So, this is what it’s like to be a military journalist at war.

Back at home, the stories we write are often specialized and geared toward our own military audience; and when our stories are good enough to transcend that category, they’re usually covered by the “real media” (a victory in the public-affairs world). Today, though, after a rare chance to interview a group of true heroes in the combat zone, I realize that their story is one only I can tell. The real media isn’t here to cover it, and even if they were, they don’t have the military perspective to pull it off the right way. So, it’s on me.

It only gets better from there. I encourage you to visit his blog, Indirect Fire, to read the rest of that post and his other writings.