It Takes the Right Support.

It's been a few weeks. I've sat down at the computer a few times...and just stared at the screen. My days have been so long lately, and I've had so much I've wanted to say...but when I sit here, I'm just so burned out from my work day, that I just want to drop.

Well, I got some good rest last night, and don't have much to do today...so it's time to catch up on some writing.

So, I was trying to get into the grove here....and find my rhythm. I did. And it comes in the form of 12-14 hour long days. From the time I get accountability in morning formation until the time I am on my way home...I feel like I'm moving a thousand miles an hour.

One of the first things I noticed about my unit....after the exercise was over and I was actually getting integrated...was that communication was broken. I had to fix that quickly. Let me explain.... My platoon works the Theater ACE (Analysis and Control Element). It has a real world mission that is must accomplish 24/7. It is also made up of...SOLDIERS. All of whom must ALSO complete certain requirements not related to the ACE mission. There in lies the problem. Any time the Company needed to train one of my guys...it took them away from the Mission, or took their time off away from them. My guys were working ALL the time and the two elements that controlled their lives was always butting heads.

I fixed that. Well....we are in the process of fixing it. I knew it was going to take a LOT of work and a LOT of co-operation between the leadership involved....myself included. I went to my 1SG with my ideas to fix the problems that I saw in the platoon.

He didn't even look at it.

What he did....was tell me that it was my platoon and I should run it the way I thought it should be run. That was all I needed. I took the plan to the Leadership behind the wire...fully expecting it to be shot down. Every time I had mentioned making these changes, everyone told me not to hold my breath when it came to the leaders that ran the mission.

So....when it came time to present the plan to the Mission Leadership, I went in with some anxiety. I was ready to be shot down. I was ready to fight hard to make life easier for my platoon. The man I had to convince came in and sat across the table from me. I laid out my plan...and as he crossed his arms, I braced myself. Then came the questions. For every question he had, I had an answer. For every possible flaw in the plan, I had a solution. And after a barrage of 'what if's' and 'devil's advocate' questions....he sat back and raised an eyebrow. He only had one thing left to say.

"Let's give it a try."

Victory! I walked out of that meeting feeling like a million bucks. I was getting everyone on board. I knew that my plan was going to work, and life was going to be better for my guys. The best part is that my leadership was confident enough in me to allow me to work the way I thought I should to make things happen. It had been a long time since I felt that way about my leadership....or since I thought my leadership felt that way about me.

About a week later...as things were falling into place for my platoon and I felt like I was getting into a groove...life dropped another bomb on me. My 1SG approached me with a life changing decision.

Since I became an NCO, I've had one goal that I wanted to achieve before I left the Army. That is to be a 1SG. I've been in for 15 years now, and that time is coming soon. For whatever reasons....I was passed over the last 2 years...(which is understandable when only about 30 people total were promoted in my job over that time!) What my 1SG had to offer me pretty much guaranteed that I would get that promotion this year on the board.

The Battalion needed a 1SG for Alpha Company...and they wanted me to put my name in for consideration. There are several eligible soldiers over here that could have done it. I'm not claiming that I am the ONLY person they asked. BUT, all the others flat out said, "NO." And here's why: The acceptance of the position came with an extension of my time in Korea. Yep...in order to be 1SG here...I would have to stay for an extra year. So, when the others were offered the position...they didn't hesitate. It was too much time for them.

I didn't say no.

I did tell them that I had to think about it. First and foremost, I had to talk to my wife about it. I run all my big decisions through her. I made the call, expecting to hear a gigantic and emphatic "OH HELL NO!" Instead, she decided to throw me COMPLETELY off.

"You've sacrificed so much in your career that you wanted to do so we could have a more stable life. This sounds like it would be good for you. If we need to consider it then let's do that. I'll support whatever decision you make."

What? NO!

She was supposed to have a definitive answer. I was fully expecting the shut down. I almost welcomed it. Even if I thought I wanted the job, if she had said no....it would have been a simple decision. "No, 1SG, I can't do it...it's not right for the family right now." See? Besides....this meant that I had to think about it and make a decision. I make other people's decisions all day long. I really wanted my wife to make this one for me!!

So, I spent the next couple days mulling it over. After that first conversation about it, she and I didn't have much time to talk about it without the kids overhearing and making assumptions or getting freaked out. So...we avoided talking about it when they were around. I told my wife to make a list of pros and cons for me staying and taking the position. I would do the same and we would talk about it later. She e-mailed me her list. Then when we talked about it, it didn't go quite the way I expected. What had happened, was that she was simply voicing her concerns about me being gone for an additional year. It's what I asked her to do. But for some reason, I was taking it as her telling me she didn't want me to do it. After initially hearing that I had her support either way, this felt wrong. I found myself frustrated that she said she would support it, but when it came down to talking about it...I wasn't feeling very supported. We hung up the phone on a bit of a sour note and I felt that I had to decide on my own again....with her really not wanting me to do it...but not really saying that in so many words.

Then I received an e-mail from her.

It said everything that I needed to hear. She said in the e-mail that it would suck if I was gone...and of course neither she nor the kids wanted me gone for longer than I had to be. BUT, if I decided to do it, they really would support me and they would be fine. That was all I needed to hear. I needed to know....without a doubt...that she was on board with whatever I decided. I didn't want to feel like I was saying no to this opportunity and later going to regret it or have her regret the decision I made either.

I said no anyway.

And here's why: After I got that e-mail...after I knew I had her support no matter what...I was able to think about it clearly and unburdened. I knew that either way...she and I would be alright, that there would be no regrets and no resentment later on down the road. I thought about it...I even practiced telling my 1SG both that I had accepted the offer, and that I was NOT accepting the offer. Yes...I sat in my bed speaking out loud to an empty room. Every time I said "Thank you for the offer, but I'm going to have to say no. The timing isn't right," I had a sense of peace....of calm...that spoke to me.

So, I'm still the ACE Platoon Sergeant. I am still making changes. I am still pushing toward my goal of 1SG...just not at the cost of leaving my family alone for that long. I feel like I can do anything...and make all my goals become reality in my career and my life.

But I can't do it alone. It takes hard work. It takes dedication. It takes sacrifice. It takes the right support. And, I have all that.

SFC Newman
Out

One More First Impression

Travelling to a new place is always a bit daunting. I've always had what I call the "New kid in school" syndrome when I have to go somewhere new, especially when the new place happens to actually be school. (My leadership courses, for example.) Multiply that feeling time infinity when I'm looking at the prospect of living in a whole new country...alone...for a year.


I've done it a dozen times. It's all part of the life of being a Soldier. Yet, every time...that nervous feeling of not fitting in, or not making friends finds it's way to the pit of my stomach.


Korea was no exception. As I said before...the day of the big move kind of snuck up on me. I guess it didn't get real until I was on the plane and waving goodbye to my friends, my family, and my country. I had a lot of time to think about it...and wonder what it would be like. I think the feeling was the worst once I landed at Incheon Airport.


There I was...the new kid...just getting off the bus, bag in hand...staring wide eyed at my new school. Everyone else seemed to know exactly what to do. Everyone else seemed to know exactly where to go. Everyone else seemed to have someone else with them! So, despite my nerves and uncertainy, I did what any good Soldier would do in this situation.


I followed the crowd like a sheep.


And it worked. My first impression of Korea was NOT what I was expecting. I was told that the country would stink. It did not. I was told that it was dirty. Incheon Airport was cleaner than many American medical facilities I've visited. I was told that the people are pushy and rude. Again...very wrong.


I followed the crowd, and made it to the customs and immigration stations. I must have looked completely lost, because every Airport employee I ran across jumped at the opportunity to show me where to go. And, they did it with a smile. Neither rude, nor pushy.


And that's how it was for the whole first week. Every Korean person I met was one of the most kind and genuine people I had come across. They were all very friendly and seemed happy to be hosting me, and the twenty eight thousand other US Troops that were here. All in all, I would say that it was a great first impression.


Then it was time to come down to Camp Humphreys.


It began on Thursday, actually...the day before I was to leave for Humphreys. This is when I met the liason for my gaining unit.


Let's call her....Bubbles.


I've got a few pet peeves in life. Who doesn't, right? Well, mine include (but are not limited to) people who wear sunglasses indoors, girls who make the duck face in their Facebook Pictures (or any picture for that matter), Lady Gaga, and people who have no clue what they are doing when it comes to their jobs....especially if thier job affects someone else's life.


So, I was trying to get answers as to where which unit I was being assigned to, when we were actually leaving, and did the paper work for my lodging expenses get taken care of before I leave. The response I got to each one of these questions was basically the same.


Bubbles would stare at me just to the point of it being annoying, then she would make a noise that sounded almost like she was trying to form a complete thought, followed by an awkward giggle and batting of the eyes...then the answer, "Um, I don't really know. Let me go check."


Pause for dramatic effect...and to allow my blood pressure to go back down...


"Yes, Please check, because we are leaving tomorrow...and I need to know who to contact once I get to Camp Humphreys...assuming I get on the right bus since you also have no clue which one that is either. While you're checking on that...please make sure to check on the lodging paperwork too. I have to check out of the hotel in the morning and I can't do that without the paperwork."


Stare...just to the point of annoying...strange thought-like noise....awkward giggle....batting of the eyes...and then, "Ok." She walked away...but, then...three steps later, turned back around. "Um, What's your name again?"


"SFC Newman. It's spelled the same as it is on my uniform," I said...pointing to my name tape.

"Oh, yeah,"....annoying giggle.


Well, despite all of Bubbles' attempts to cause a corinary infarction, I survived (and so did she). I checked out of the hotel and got on the right bus, and even made it to Camp Humphreys with a point of contact's name and number! So it was a minor speed bump on this journey of a year...that's all.


There were about fifteen of us on the bus to Camp Humphreys. Most of us had never been to Korea before. For many of them, this was their first assignment in the Army. I was the senior NCO on the bus...so, I made it a priority to ensure that everyone else was taken care of as we headed out. One of the things I like the most about what I do...about being a Soldier...is that we take care of our own. So I take pride in taking care of young Soldiers and making sure their first experiences away from home are as easy as I can make them. I want their first impression of their first duty assignment to be a good one.


We arrived at Humphreys and my sponsor was waiting for me. Good sign. I made sure all the other Soldiers from the bus were in touch with their sponsors and that they had rides to their units, and then I headed out with SFC Gamble (my sponsor) to my unit.

It was nearly 7:30 by the time I had checked into yet another hotel, and then headed back out to go to my unit to meet the First Sergeant. It was Friday night, so we were sure he was on his way out for the day. It was going to be a quick introduction....and then I'd start getting all in-processed and settled in come Monday. It was sometime durring this first conversation with SFC Gamble that found out he works night shift. He starts work at midnight and works until roughly 8:00 A.M.


And he's my sponsor. He's suppposed to show me around post and help me get settled in? I felt awful! How can they do that to this poor Soldier? He didn't seem to mind, though...


Off to meet First Sergeant, then.


Sure enough, the First Sergeant was just finishing up his work when we walked in. He seemed friendly enough...told me to relax and take a seat. We talked for a few minutes...I told him where I was coming from...and a little bit of my background. He told me that they planned on making me one of the Platoon Sergeants for the Company. This was good news, because that's exactly what I wanted. He also made one other thing very clear. He repeated it four times in the ten minutes we spoke. I guess wanted to make sure I understood. FOUR times in our ten minute conversation he said...


"Jesus, you're a big son of a bitch."


I guess I made quite a first impression on him.


So I relaxed in the hotel for the weekend. I walked around the post a little...got a little lost....but then found my way back. It was a decent weekend. In my meeting with the First Sergeant, Iwas told that there would be a recall formation on Sunday morning to kick off a two week exercise that was going on across the whole peninsula. First Sergeant told me he wanted me there...that I would sign in, show my face...and be done. He said to be ready around 6 A.M.


I woke up at 6. By 6:35, there was no call. I then assumed that they decided to just leave me out of this one...so I allowed myself to doze off once again. I woke up again, at 7:20. The phone was ringing.


"SFC Newman?" a rather nervous sounding voice asked on the other end.

"Yeah," I answered, evident that I had only mere moments ago been sound asleep.
"Uh...we're...um...there's a recall going on..." he stammered.
"Yeah," said again...although in my head I answered with a much more coherent response.
"They want you here. Um. Someone will be there soon to pick you up. Uh...I'm...I'm sorry I woke up," he mumbled.
"It's ok. I had to get up and answer the phone anyway," I told him.


So...I got dressed, again. And went downstairs to meet SFC Gamble. It was cold outside, and rainy. But, I was just going to sign in and show my face...then I'd be done. So, I decided to forego my coat since in my brief visit with the First Sergeant I discovered that most buildings on Camp Humphreys can double as convection ovens.

We arrived at the company to find a well formed gaggle of Soldiers standing around in various areas talking and smoking and well...just waiting. They all had their gear on...helmets, body armor, M16s...It ws great! I love being around Soldiers!


We went inside and found the sign in sheet. I signed it...and showed my face. I met all the people I would be working with. I was ready to head back to the hotel and rest up (remember...at this point I am still suffering from some serious jet lag...and in Soldier years I'm getting really old).


Well, it was just when I was ready to go back, when they called for a formation...outside...in the cold rain.


We stood in that formation for about twenty minutes...and no one really said anything. We were informed that the First Sergeant and the Company Commander were "still in a meeting with the Sergeant Major and Batallion Commander." My question: Then why are we standing in the rain if we know they aren't ready to talk to us?


No one seemed to know.


A sudden flash of brilliance struck the Sergeant leading the formation. "Why don't we go inside until they're ready?" he asked. The man was a genius. So we went back into the furnace for another twenty minutes, then they called us back outside to formation.


This time the First Sergeant and Commander were there. I was glad, too...because almost instantly this time, I lost feeling in my ears. For twenty seven minutes, the Commander and First Sergeant took turns telling us that the uniform for the durration of the exercise was ACU's...with patrol cap intead of barret, and have our gear on standby. That was it!


Oh...wait...I'm mistaken there was something else. The Batallion XO had to take a group picture of everyone in their gear. In the rain. But not just one picture...he had to take a couple...and then he said..."Everyone POSE!"

WHAT!?!?


After that formation I was MORE than happy to get back to the room and chill out...well, warm up, then chill out. Monday morning, I was going to get my permanent quarters and then start getting into a routine at work.


My first impression of my new unit was not as shining as my first impression of this lovely country.


Monday came...and Gamble came to pick me up. He took me to the housing office and I was given my key to my new digs! I was excited because I hate living out of a duffel bag.


That was Monday. For the most part...no one contacts me. I was told to take the next couple of weeks while everone is focused on the exercise to settle in.


But...I don't know where anything is. I don't know what I need to do to be ready to work when the exercise is over! It's to the point where I feel like I'm doing something wrong because I am so isolated! This can't be right...can it? I'm so worried about first impressions right now...I don't want THEIR impression to be that I'm slacking off...or hiding out. I didn't come half way around the world to sit in my room for a year...I promise.


I ended up finding some of the places to in-process on my own. I think I'm going to take Gamble's advice and fly under the radar this week and next. I've been in touch wiht him every day...and I'll arrange to meet with the Soldier I'm replacing so that I don't go in completely blind when the exercise is over.


That being said...I arrived under unusuall circumstances. This isn't how the unit normally operates and I'm the one that bennefits from it in the form of a very low key adjustment period. I'll chalk it up to that, and after the exercise I'll go in to the unit with an open mind...and they can make one more first impression.

SFC Newman
Out

Another Year...Thre's so Much to Learn.

It happened so fast. Even though we had plenty of time to prepare for it, the morning of my flight seemed to sneak up on us from nowhere. It wasn't until I was kissing three sets of tear streaked cheeks goodbye that it became overwhelmingly real.


I was leaving my family behind for an Army assignment again.


This time....one year in South Korea. It was going to be fine. We had done this before....and under more menacing circumstances. At least this time I'm not going to an active war zone. And besides....this was what was best for the family, right?

More on that later...

So....where was I? Oh yes...life was smacking me in the face with overwhelming reality.

So I found my seat on the airplane for the flight to Chicago O'hare. As I sat and placed my jacket across my lap, I found a card tucked into the inside pocket. My name was scribbed across the front in my wife's handwritting. I smiled as I opened it. I didn't know she had slipped it in there.


I read the card and my heart swelled. I won't go into details of what was written there...that's just between us. But I will say that as I looked up and smiled out the window...a tear fell from my cheek.

I had just left my heart behind.


So that's how it began. But, now onto the fun part...Actually getting to Korea. A 3 hour flight to Chicago, a 4 hour layover, then a 13 hour flight to Tokyo, five minute layover and a 3 hour flight into Incheon Airport in Korea. Sounds simple, right? Well, I wanted to DIE! My big 6'6" frame is not made to sit in an airplane seat for 13 hours. Hell, my body isn't made to do much of ANYTHING for 13 hours straight!


It's torture. It's rediculous. It is absolute insanity. It should be illegal to pack THAT many seats on one aircraft.

I think it was designed by terrorists.


So...I left home at 3 am on Saturday. I landed in Korea at about 9:30 pm Sunday night. I still wasn't done. We had to take a 45 minute bus ride to Yongsan, durring which I dozed off and spilled hot coffee in my lap. In retrospect....that was probably the best part of the whole trip.

I got to the hotel and crashed. I slept for what felt like days...(actually it was about 9 hours). Then I got up and contacted the family. Luckily for me, Monday was a Federal Holiday...so I had it off. Which is good, because a couple hours later....back to sleep, until 2 am. I got up again and Skyped with the kids and my wife. Then I got ready to start in-processing here for my assignment.

So far it's been pretty amazing. The country, I mean...not the in-processing.

The Korean people are some of the most genuine and kind people that I have met. The country is rich with history...5,000 years worth. They are a proud people. I am in culture shock....yes...but it's a good feeling. I know I am going to experience life in a different way for the next year.

Which is why I find myself back in the blogosphere. I started this blog as a way to keep friends and family informed while I was gone. It turned into something completely different. It became a sort of therapy, and commentary....all rolled into one.

My tour in Iraq left me a different person. It changed me. But, through all that I learned a lot and I attempted to share that with you all through this blog. My year in Korea looms ahead and I stare ahead into it with optomism.

Korea is known as the Land of the Morning Calm. So far, I've tried to take that to heart. Each day I wake up, I spend a few moments setting my mind right. There's no TV. There's no internet. It's just me and the Morning Calm.

I know it's been a long time since I've written. I know this post is kind of all over the place. Perhaps I'll get into some of the things I SHOULD have written about durring the last couple of years. The changes I mentioned earlier in this post...The perspective I've had working at the Pentagon...The rollercoaster ride that is life in general. I don't know...maybe I did MYSELF an injustice by not writing about it.

Like I said...I'll catch everyone up on that stuff eventually.

For now...I look at the next 12 months ahead of me. I'm excited and anxious. It should be an interesting year. I look forward to learning, and experiencing new things. It's not just 12 months away from the family. It's a time to grow. It's another year....and there's so much to learn.

SFC Newman,
Out

The More Things Change.

OK, so it's been a while. Sorry. But a lot has been going on since I got back. It is only recently that I realized that it has been more than four months since I have written...wow.

So, I get back from Iraq, and begin to bask in the glow of my joyful reunion with my family...despite Life's unrelenting attempts to prevent that at all cost.

One of the first things we did was to take a family vacation to Colorado. This trip was fun...because normally if we go somewhere, we have a reason to be there. Weddings seem to be the main reason these days. BUT, not this time.

We actually took a family vacation and did what you are supposed to do on a vacation...everything!!! We did all the touristy things that we never did when we actually lived in Colorado. We saw the Aquarium, the Zoo...and Old Chicago Pizza.

(OK...TECHNICALLY, Old Chicago Pizza is a restaurant chain...not a tourist attraction. But if you have ever had one of their Double Deckeroni Pizzas...you will agree that is should be an attraction.)

We took the kids to the Garden of the Gods. Every time I go there it takes my breath away. If you've never been...GO! It is amazing. There are all these giant red rocks that are just...there!!! They are gorgeous. Looking at them it takes my imagination on an adventure. I can almost hear what went through the minds of the frontiersmen who first happened upon such an amazing sight.

It was probably very similar to my kid's reactions..."Whoooah. Cool."

Then it was time to head to the real wild west. To place where the men were real men, and the women didn't know about shaving their legs. We travelled through time to a place just outside of Canon City to a place known as Buckskin Joe's Frontier Town.

Yeah...you heard it right. An 'authentic' frontier town where you can watch 'real' cowboys walk the dusty street. (Yes...there is only one street.) Where lawmen gun down bandits in front of the saloon. Where you can see what life was like in the wild west by checking out the displays in the fifteen to eighteen museum buildings...you can tour the Movie Building, and see pictures of actors that have starred in movies that were made right there in Buckskin Joe's...you can satisfy you cowboy sized hunger with a Buffalo burger in the saloon...and then go back outside to watch the bandits that the sheriff killed, get up and shoot him down in the street.

Ah...good times.

It was actually fun...the kids had a great time. (Though my son was rather concerned that no one did anything about all shooting.) But, the most amazing part of that portion of our vacation was right before the amazing Buckskin Joe's. Joe's was for the kids...only after they tolerated what we wanted to see first. SCENERY!!!

The Royal Gorge can only be described as what it must look like when God reaches down from heaven, and actually touches the Earth. A short little train ride to a viewing platform was well Worth the trip once we could see the amazing sight of sheer rock touching the sky, and a sparkling river snaking its way past where we stood.

Then from there...it was time to see some family. I hadn't seen my Grandfather since he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. A visit was long overdue...whether I thought I was ready or not.

I took my wife and kids to my Grandmother's house. My daughter made a new friend in the form of Grandma's dog...Bubbles. Once we put the kids to bed, we stayed up with Grandma for several more hours...talking about Grandpa Babe.

It is amazing to me how many lives he touched. There were stories that I had never heard about how he taught something to everyone he met. How he made an impact on every life he came across.

I think of all the comments that night, the one that sticks with me the most is one that Grandma said one of Babe's young assistants had said. Babe used to work the rodeo, breaking and training horses and riders. He had a couple of young kids that he taught how to ride. Grandma was telling me about a conversation that one of these guys was having, where another man was talking about 'cowboys.'

The kid looked at the guy and said, "You haven't seen a cowboy...until you've seen Babe Wilson in the saddle." That made me smile...because he's right.

The next day, we went to go see him. It was hard. To see the man that I remember as larger than life itself sitting in a wheelchair was almost more than I could handle. But...when I looked into his eyes, he was still there. He couldn't say much...or didn't. But I could tell that something was there, even if he couldn't verbalise it.

It was amazing to see his face light up at the sight of my kids. He smiled, and Grandma and I cried.

We talked for a little while. I would ask him if he remembered such and such...and he would say, "No, I don't reckon I do," or simply..."Yeah." Then it was time to go. I told him to take care of himself. I told him that I missed him. I told him that I loved him, and then I kissed him on his forehead. As I walked toward the door, I'll never forget what I heard next.

Grandpa Babe...my hero...looked up into Grandma's eyes and said, "Who the heck is he, anyway?"

I laughed, in spite of the situation...and then heard Grandma tell him, "You know who that is...it's Luke...Ronny's Son." Grandpa remembered me...I know. Because it was after that when he said..."Oh. You come back now." He always used to say that when we would leave.

It was a good visit. I needed it...and I think he did too.

Then it was time to come home. We needed a break from our vacation. It was out at dinner one night, when the unthinkable happened, though. We were at one of our kid's favorite pizza places. Then, my wife's cell phone rang. She answered it and then looked very confused. "It's for you," she said...handing me the phone. (Which is weird...because I have my own phone...that people can call me on.)

The voice on the other end was one I was not expecting. It was my First Sergeant. He's my boss. For him to call on my wife's phone...(I soon realized that I had left mine at home...) meant that it was IMPORTANT.

"There's no good way to tell you this," he said. My mind raced. Was it my parents? My brother? What had happened? Had my Grandfather taken a turn for the worse?

"What is it?" I asked...nervous.

"You have been called back to recruiting duty," he said. "Your leave has been cancelled. You start on Friday."

It was Tuesday...night.

Yup...I felt like I was kicked right in the cash and prizes. Recruiting was the worst duty I have done in my military career. And now...against my will, and all my plans...I was being sent back. But I had only been home for a month...how could they do this?

Because I am in the Army...that's how.

Don't get me wrong...I love the Army...I just don't like the way it acts sometimes. It's kind of like how one loves their children. You will always love your kids...even when you want to strangle them, or sell them to the highest bidder.

Short story Long...that is over and I am now at my new job. I have been assigned to the Pentagon for over a year and a half...and have actually been working there for about a week now.

The best part is that I get to do something every day, that I used to only do on special occasions. I get to take PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION!!!

Yes...life with the Mole People is interesting. It is common, when taking the subway (Metro-rail) to work, or anywhere for that matter...that you DO NOT speak to anyone. Hell...you try not to even look at anyone else. That's just the way it is.

SO...it should make sense that so far...every day that I have taken the train in to work, some poor, lonely degenerate freak of society wants to talk to ME!!!!!!!! The first day, it was a guy who told me not to "let the Army send me to war...to have them send 'their kids' instead." I said thanks. Then there was the guy who was chewing on his fingers and arguing with himself. He wasn't too intrusive, until we reached the first stop in the District of Columbia. That's when he decided to tell me, in a voice loud enough that people outside of the train could hear, "This where all the Black population is. You wait...you'll see. A bunch of Black guys will get on and off from here on out."

Since then, there has been the man wearing the purple cocktail dress and diamond earrings, the guy who thought everyone was staring at him and then missed his stop, and the guy who periodically checked to make sure his hands were still attached...and breathed a big sigh of relief when he saw that they, in fact, were.

I can't help but think after this crazy summer, that it seems the more things change...the stranger they get.

SFC NEWMAN
OUT

You Can't Go Home Again

They told us that the process of re-uniting with our families would have its ups and downs. They told us that we would have a long period of adjustment ahead. They told us that it would be emotional and trying and that we should be patient and try to be as normal as possible.


They were wrong.


What they didn't tell us was how emotional it would be. They didn't tell us that it would be almost too much to handle...and that they didn't give us time to prepare.


Now...before anyone thinks that I am complaining about being home with my family, let me assure you that I am NOT. Being back with my family is a dream come true. There are not words to describe how I feel about it...Happy, excited, ecstatic...they don't even begin to scratch the surface.



I sat and listened to the briefings with the rest of my group from Iraq. I shuffled through the medical screenings and got the two shots that I needed. I sat in another room and covered all the paperwork that needed to be complete before I got home.


And...less than twenty four hours from the time I landed in Texas, I was on an airplane home.


That's part of the strange quandary of the whole situation. They rush us through quickly so that we don't have to be delayed in our reunions. However, in doing so...I think that they don't prepare us enough for what it is really going to be like.


I got off the airplane in Baltimore and headed straight to the baggage area. As I stood there waiting, I heard the slapping of little flip-flopped feet on the tile. I turned just in time for my son to slam into my legs, wrapping his arms around my middle and nearly taking me to the floor. Right on his heels was my daughter. I hugged and kissed them, and looked up to see my wife smiling at us all as she walked toward us.


I hugged and kissed her and the feelings inside me were the most overwhelming I have ever felt. It was pure bliss to be back home.


The next couple of weeks were great. I hadn't started my leave, because I was waiting for my wife and son to be done with school. So I went back to work for a couple of hours a day until school was out...then it was time for vacation.


It was during this time though...that reality set in. At some point, during a conversation with my wife, we realized that for each of us...life had gone on without the other for the last year. It was a tough a blow, and an emotional one at that. One that the military didn't prepare me for. One that caught me off guard.


Fortunately, for my wife and I...what this did was spark a realization that we were taking a lot of our relationship for granted. I think I can actually say that we are growing closer than ever now that I am back.

But...regardless of how close we are now...or how strongly we are reconnecting...it is evident that life went on for a whole year while we were apart. Some of this is good....some, not so much.

I know that I felt like I was doing the right thing by keeping certain details from my wife. Details like how close the rocket was that hit near my trailer...or how close I was to getting hit when the Helicopter I was on got shot at...or how close the car bomb was when I saw it go off. You know...the basics.

What I didn't realise was that when I got home...I needed to share all that with her. When she found out...it was as if I was keeping things from her. I took that part of out communication for granted. And now I...now WE...realize that communication is more important than ever. Even though we are back in the same house...the communication is almost more important now than it has ever been.

Then there are the kids.

I couldn't get them to realise that I am home now...for a long time. My son wanted to do everything that we couldn't do for the last year...the day I came home. It has been about six weeks now...and I think he has finally realized that I am not going anywhere.

My daughter...who has grown into quite the little lady...has a whole new personality that is all her own. For the first few weeks I was home, she would crawl into bed with me at anywhere between five and six in the morning.

She has calmed down now, and sleeps in her own bed until about eight almost every morning now.

We went back to the beach...the same one that we visit every year...and the same one that I told you about before I left. It felt so good to go and just relax...as much as I could.

We ate at our favorite pizza joint every day (sometimes twice daily...but that for the kids...honest...) On two occasions, I found myself bracing against the table as a balloon popped, and my new natural reaction to that type of noise is to hit the floor.

That brings me back to my point of not having enough time...or being prepared for the integration back into real life. I could see the look on my wife's face...as she saw the look on mine when I would brace after the "bang."

She didn't know what to think...and frankly neither did I. I was embarrassed...and then a bit angry...and in the end...I laughed it off. I almost feel like there should be a class that spouses of deployed soldiers could attend. It could teach them, or at least give them a heads up...about the possible effects of a year in Iraq on those of us that were there.

My wife is amazing. She just looks at me and I can tell that she wants to honestly make sure I am O.K. It is that look in her eyes that helps me come back to wherever I am.

I had forgotten how it is in those eyes that I found my soul mate. It is in those eyes that I found my best friend. And it is in those eyes that I am home.

So...while there is actually is an emotional roller coaster attached to re-uniting with one's family after a year apart...and it is harder than I ever thought it would be...it is wonderful. It breaks my heart when I hear about the soldier who comes home to a family that is no longer there. Or there is a certain level of irreconcilable turmoil for soldiers returning home...and their families.

What I think we all need to do...in both cases...is stop and listen. Then, put yourself in their shoes. Not just the spouses. Yes, my wife needs to know where I am coming from and it is hard for her...nigh impossible for her to understand or even fathom some of what I have been through...but she tries. And that's all it takes.

On the other hand...I can't sit here and think that she had a year long vacation. She has been a single mother for the last year. She didn't really sign up for that gig. So while I went through a world of crap last year...so did she.

She had to endure the tear filled, sleepless nights when my kids were asking, "When is Daddy coming home?" She had to go to the family cook outs...alone, and watch the other couples live their day to lives without a single care. She had to go to sleep not knowing if I would call the next day or not...because she never knew if I would make it through the night.

I can't imagine the hell she went through...nor can she imagine mine. But what he have quickly learned is that there is no such thing as "I had it worse than you."

I am back. I am happy. I have found a renewed sense of what drew me to my wife in the first place. It takes work...and patience...and a big sense of humor. But I couldn't be happier...nor would I want to be.

I am living proof, and it is for these reasons that I don't buy into the old adage...that you can't go home again.

SFC NEWMAN
OUT

Leaving on Jet Plane

One year.

In real life...that's not that long...is it? Well, for a Soldier in Baghdad...it's an eternity. And now...it's over.

We had our going away lunch this past week. I really am not a fan of the public forum for that kind of thing...I would much rather just slip out quietly and not make a big fuss over it. Ah...but as we all know...the Army is about making a big deal of comings and goings.

So, to start things off, we had the presentations of our certificates the evening before our lunch. This when all the people that work near you, but never really talk to you...tell you how nice it has been serving with you for the last year, and then give you a piece of paper to prove it.

A lot of nice things were said. And for the most part, I could tell that they were heartfelt. The Colonel that runs the Intel section...to whom I was tasked out for the year...talked about how the team functioned well and she never left wondering if things were OK in the evenings because she knew that SFC Newman, and the Night Crew, were more than capable of taking care of things.

I smiled...because she was right. We could take care of anything that came our way. The Night Watch Cheif of Operations...another Colonel, and a very big, and intimidating man, whom I worked directly for durring the majority of my time...was always quick to call SFC Newman to "Front and Center" to answer a question or give an Intel assessment.

He called me down one night when we had a "situation" going on. He asked me what Intel thought of it, and began to reiterate to him what the assesment had been from the Main INTEL section over at Camp Victory. He listened, and then said..."OK...so what do YOU think?"

I was taken aback. He looked me in the eye and asked me..."In your personal opinon, SFC Newman, is this worth persuing?" Without blinking I answered, "I'd go get him myself, if you want to drive."

He smiled...and from that point forward...I was his Intel guy. He came to me first for everyting Intel related.

There was another Colonel...(Yes, this is the third...I worked in FORCE Headquarters...Colonels came cheap there)...who had the same type of working relationship with me, when I worked days and he was the Day Chief of Operations. He switched positions...but continued to use my section for Intel.

We worked so well together that he even said that I should go work for him. I ran that by my wife...who asked, "Where is he stationed." I told her he worked at the Command Sergeant Major's Accademy, in Fort Bliss. She replied simply with..."But, that's Texas."

He and I talked for a while, and he...too...had some nice things to say. I smiled every time one of them said how well I did.

I know I am good at what I do...but I also know it isn't just me. The best conductor in the world can stand in front of the orchestra and meaure out each note of the ensemble in perfect time...but if he doesn't have very talented people playing the instruments...he's just a guy standing up there waving a stick.

That's how I feel about this last year. I was the conductor. I told my crew when to send a report, or when to hold off. I told them which guy to look for mor information on....and which guys to not spend too much time with. I work with very talented people...and if it wasn't for them helping to make me look so good...I would just be a guy standing there waving his stick.

The last year has taught me a lot of lessons. I have learned SOMETHING from almost everyone I have come in contact with. Some of those lessons were good...and some were bad. But I learned from them all.

I have learned how to listen, even when I know I am right. I have learned to let others feel like they are in charge of the situation...even when they have no clue as to what is going on. I learned that no matter how hard you try to teach some people...they will never learn...because they refuse to follow before they can lead.

My perspective has changed...I have changed. I have lived in some of the worst conditions imaginable...and worked in some of the best. (My office used to be a ball room in the Presidential Palace for crying out loud...that's not too bad!) I have grown...I think...as a person.

I have learned to cherish what I have at home, and appreciate what I have when I am gone. I have learned the importance of telling little ones to have Sweet Dreams, and the effect it has if I am unable to do so.

I have watched my children grow in pictures and on the webcam...and somehow feel closer to my family than ever. I have learned that they can go on without me around...but they can't wait for me to get back.

I have learned that absence makes the heart grow fonder...and comunication makes the relationship stronger. I know that I can survive on my own...but that I am better with my soulmate.

Someone asked me if I would do it over again. I would. I have learned so much and had an impact on something. I am leaving a different Iraq than the one I came to last year. I have a hard time thinking that we have not made ANY impact on the people of Iraq. But, I question if we have made enough of an impact...or the right kind.

Now...for me, at least...it's over. For now.

I have clearly had a lot to say...and I don't think I'm finished. Just because I am leaving Iraq, doesn't mean I'm done saying all I have to say. If you're interested...keep watching this space..I may still have a few things to sound off about.

As for now...I'm heading home. I can only hope that the men and women I leave behind stay safe and get home soon. They are capable...talented people...and I'm better for knowing them.

To my family...get the grill ready. Daddy's coming home and I really want a decent burger! They say you can't make up lost time...but I sure as hell am going to try with every moment I have. I know my kids are dying for me to be back.

As for me? Well, tonight...I'm leaving on a jet plane.

SFC NEWMAN
OUT

It Ain't Over 'Til It's Over

I was dreaming. At least it was as close to a dream as I can call them lately. Not a nightmare, at all...I was actually enjoying it. Then I heard something. I distinctly remember the noise.

I opened my eyes as it grew louder. It was a kind of howling whistle sound. I sat up as the howling stopped...and the explosion rocked the trailer. It was the first of ten that would hit in about a ten minute period.

I looked over at my room mate, who was standing up now and looking rather...well, he was pissed. "It too close," was all he said. He was so right.

I am down to 17 days at this point...too close for something 'bad' to happen. But still not as close as him...he leaves a week before me.

They say that complacency kills...and I believe that. It only took two days after the last big attack for people to "get tired of putting all that stuff on, just to walk to work." And that attack was lethal! I don't think I will understand...ever.

So...I tried to calm down and go back to sleep. I accomplished a quick nap before having to get up for the night...typical. When I walked into work, I didn't know I would be walking into one of the most busy nights I've had in a while.

Being busy is not a problem. Being busy with nonsense work IS a problem. I work the INTEL section here at the Embassy. In the room in which I work, there are several different sections each with their own tasks. It really puts me in a bad mood when my section is used as the busy work guys. I understand that INTEL is supposed to 'know everything' (go ahead...you can laugh) but that doesn't mean that we DO all the little tasks that others are getting paid to do.

SO... that being said...we lost and still had to do the other sections' busy work. That would be the main reason I was in a bad mood...well, at least the catalyst for why I was in a bad mood.

Then came the other reasons...the Officers.

NOW...don't get me wrong. I completely respect Officers for what they do, and for the rank they hold. However...I have met many that qualify as morons. These are college educated men and women who have much more responsibility than I do...and frankly that often scares me.

I work with possibly the loudest man on the planet. He works several "rows" down from me...but he never fails to let everyone hear what is on his mind, regardless of how idiotic it may sound. He has offered up "solutions" to "this problem" as varied as "Let's just make it policy to shoot them all on sight," to "What if we put them all in camps...the men in one area, and the women and children in another?"

Sounds great...if you're into genocidal concentration camps!

It was only when I called him on how moronic that sounded, and told him that he was an example of "A waste of education" that he changed his views.

So...I am busy doing work for other sections...while I continue to answer to the Chief of Operations...and having to listen to the overwhelming voice of the loud guy. All of this after one of the largest attacks in recent history.

Then comes the arrival of the day crew. Oh, goodie...more people to irritate the hell out of me!

There is a common line of thinking, in and out of the military, that most men don't like women in the military. I don't know how true that is...honestly. I also don't see things like most people, so don't take my word as carved in stone law. (Besides...there are some women in the Army that can easily kick my ass...Dave, I'm talking to you!! And, yes...Dave is a woman.)

I believe that once you put on the Uniform, there is no more race, gender, or religion. We are all one gender...and that is Soldier. We are all one color...and that is green. And we are all one religion...that is the Army.

What I DO have a problem with is when a female soldier perpetuates the stereotypes that so many have worked hard to destroy. There are two that stand out and drive me crazy. The first is what I like to call "the pampered Princess."

The Pampered Princess comes in many forms...but usually, (at least the ones I have encountered...) a semi attractive female soldier (though on occasion I HAVE come across the male version...and it ain't pretty!) that has gotten through most of her life on her looks, or her puppy dog eyes, or her "girlyness!" I actually love encountering this type of stereotypical soldier. BECAUSE, I don't see gender when I put on the uniform. I treat all my soldiers as equals and rate them on their ability, not their gender.

This is especially fun when the Pampered Princess has to do "Soldier Stuff." Soldier stuff includes, but is not limited to disassembling and re-assembling an M-16/M-4, carrying a heavy pack for long distances (upwards of twelve miles or more), crawling through the mud on one's face, or trying to find one's way through the woods with naught but a map and a compass.

Usually, in my experience, the Pampered Princess will attempt one of the above Soldier stuff tasks no more than once before the whinging starts. I love it when they look up at me and pout and ask for someone to "Help," (which is Princess talk for "Someone else do it for me).

I look them dead in the eyes and tell them that they don't stand a chance with the pouting...I am immune to it. (Seriously...I have a three...almost four year old little girl who is a REAL LIFE PRINCESS who actually practices her pouting in the mirror so she can get it just right.) BUT...in the end...after I MAKE them do what is expected of them all by themselves...I usually get a thank you. I am often told that they never had been challenged before and I taught them something about themselves.

The other, more irritating side of the Pampered Princess is the Disillusioned Princess. This is actually a subset of the Pampered Princess, and is much more irritating in that they can rarely be taught anything without my just being flat out mean.

This type of Princess finds herself in the minority...being female...and revels in the attention her own gender garners. They are prevalent in places that lack a female presence...Like Iraq for example!!! It gets irritating when (and again, this is just MY experience talking) EVERY TIME she comes back from the chow hall, or the bathroom, or from running downstairs to make a phone call, or even just coming in for the shift...I have to hear how"The guards told me how nice I looked today," or "They smiled and said that they can tell I am losing weight," or "That one guard told me how pretty I am today."

REALITY CHECK TIME: You are a female in a place where males outnumber the females seven to one. Those guards are even more isolated from us, because they don't even live in the same compound as us...and have you seen any female guards...no. Most of them (at the time) had been here six months or longer. You are not special...they are just horny. STOP TELLING ME ABOUT YOURSELF!!!!

The second stereotype that irritates the hell out of me is the female Soldier who feels they have something to prove...even if I have never given them reason to feel that way!!! This is the species known as Jannie Rambo.

Janie Rambo will "one up" anything a male Soldier says...regardless of whether or not the male Soldier was trying to have the 'pissing contest' that good ole Jannie thought he was having. I want to take this opportunity to point out the difference between a good solid female Soldier...and a Jannie Rambo.

The good female soldier is simply that...A SOLDIER THAT IS GOOD AT WHAT SHE DOES. Be it working out, running, knowing the technical or tactical side of Soldiering, she is good at it and that is that.

Jannie Rambo, on the other hand, may be good at her job...that's not the issue. The issue is when she must point out HOW good she is at her job...or anything else for that matter.

I found out that one of my co-workers is a Jannie Rambo...much to my surprise. She is very good at what she does. She is physically fit, and doesn't pull the "Girly Card" ever. We get along, as we share the same sense of humor. (No, Dave...this isn't you...you are not a Jannie Rambo.)

The Jannie in question, had been having a bad day the day before this (my "Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day") and had even told me how badly she needed her half day. She had been working an average of 14 hrs a day for a month with no break. I fully supported her and told her she should take her time off as soon as possible. "What we don't want," I said, "Is for you to burn out. Take the time and recharge...then come back in full swing."

I then went on to tell her I understood. I told her how I found that I needed time off when I worked those ridiculous hours in the beginning...(I then brought up my infamous 21 hour work day.) I insisted that she take time or I would be making her go to her trailer and rest.

Two days later, and I was having my bad day. I asked her, "Do you remember how you were feeling the other day...when you said you needed your half day?" To which she replied, "Yeah...I needed it too...I'm glad I took it." So, I said to her...during the morning of my very bad day...that "I am feeling the same way right about now."

Why did I say it? To vent mostly. Because I thought since she vented to me, I could do the same. (She outranks me...so I can vent up...not down.)

Her response? "Have you done four weeks yet, without a break? Fourteen hours a day?"

There are multiple layers to how wrong this is...so bear with me a minute.

First...on a personal level, that was just rude. I never went into how hard I had it when she told me she needed time off. And, was I supposed to feel bad that she had to work all that time? We ARE in a combat zone after all...any time is better than none.

Second...on a professional level, turning it into a contest of who had it worse is beneath either of us. If she felt like I was whining...then just say so. I'm a big boy...I can take it. But to compare...well, just not cool.

Third...on a leadership level...well, let's see. First off, don't compare how bad you have it with anyone who is saying they need a break. By saying that, she immediately minimized my feelings and told me that what I said I needed wasn't important to her because I hadn't gone through as much as she had. (or so she thought...) Secondly, you don't compare how hard you have it to your SUBORDINATES!!! You are the leader...therefore you must show them that no matter how hard things are, they aren't unbearable. You acknowledge their feelings as legitimate, and re-enforce their confidence levels by showing confidence in their ability to complete the task before them. Encouragement was in order...not a pissing contest.

For the record...I know it sounds like whining now. Let me clarify what my main problem with it is. POOR LEADERSHIP!!! She is one of those college educated, highly trained LEADERS...OFFICERS...that I was talking about earlier. I consider myself a good leader. I also think I can recognise when there is a flaw, or lack of experience, or lack of judgement in leadership.

I don't know what the case was with her this particular time...but she perpetuated the stereotype of the Jannie Rambo by jumping straight into a competitive mode in the conversation.

That was about it for me that day. I clenched my jaw, cracked my neck and focused on the computer and my work for the last hour and a half. Then I immediately left and went back to my trailer.

I guess part of the reason I am venting now, is because I thought that after all this time out here...it would have gotten better. The inane stupid crap that fills the spaces between work, sleep, and indirect fire attack never seems to go away...it will be here as long as we are.

The next morning, I checked off another day on my calendar...the picture of my daughter smiling at me as the Sharpie squeaked a big black "X" across the date. Shortly after that, five more rockets hit the compound, reminding me again that It Ain't Over, 'Til It's Over.

SFC NEWMAN,
OUT