What day is it anyway?
Well, I've been 'In Country' now for about a week. What an easy and pain free experience that was. Seriously, I think I've seen surgeries on the Discovery channel that were less complicated than what I have been through in the last week. But, hey...I'm just a Soldier in the desert, right?
So it all actually started a couple of weeks ago, in Texas. (which is a whole other country anyway, right.) That's where the Army makes sure I am physically and administratively ready to suffer the travesty of being thrown into a strange land and experience the culture shock of a lifetime. (This is a nice thing for the Army to do, since I had already run all over Ft. Meade, ensuring that I was physically and administratively ready to suffer the travesty of being thrown into a strange land and experience the culture shock of a lifetime all on my own.)
After a week of poking, proding, and generalized group agitation, we boarded the plane for IRAQ. After a quick 24 hour flight, we landed in Kuwait, the first stop on my magical mystery tour. I'm not going to tell you how hot Kuwait is...as I'm sure you can assume for yourself. I will however comment that I did not know it was possible for weather to supply its own sweat.
Most people spend a couple of days in Kuwait, waiting for a flight into Baghdad International Airport...heretofore know as BIAP. Fortunatel I had an assertive First Sergeant in my group, and we were on a plane for BIAP within six hours. (This is good, because the tent we were placed in to wait for the flight thought it was a convection oven, and tried to cook us...I beleive I am now medium rare.)
The flight itself was OK...we had to wear all of our gear for the first time. This is a great method for making yourself very tired and often less hydrated than one would normaly like to be. (All my gear weighs about the same as my daughter...I'd much rather give her a piggy back ride, than wear that vest.) Flying on a Military C-130 Aircraft is not like hoping on a coach section of American Airlines and flying nonstop from D.C. to L.A. No, it's not quite that comfortable.
The "final aproach" to BIAP lasts about 3 seconds. The actual landing is more like a ride at Disney Land than an airplane ride. The good thing is, it's over quickly...very quickly. We went from Eleventeen Thousand feet to about two hundred feet in about three and three quarter seconds. (It was pretty cool...don't tell my Wife I said that.)
Once we landed at BIAP, it was time to get us to our final destination within Iraq. This is where the newcommer feels a bit overwhelmed and frankly...scared. If you've seen any newscast in the last three years, then you understand why.
I was scheduled to hop on a helicopter and fly into my area with four other soldiers...all officers. (It should be noted that flying is the prefered method of travel, as the insurgents have yet devised a method for suspending an IED {Bomb} in mid air...) As they were calling out the names on the manifest I could not help but notice that they forgot to call off mine.
This begins our lesson in politics and the enlisted man...Basically what happened was that approximately five minutes prior to my boarding the helicopter and taking a relatively safe flight into the city, I was bumped so that another officer could take my nice cozy seat. Military Mathmetics is as follows:
Colonel/O-6 + (4x LT. Colonel/O-5 x4) + SSG Newman/E-6 divided by 5 seats on the Helocopter= My ass on a convoy into the city.
So, it was the Rhino for me. What is the Rhino? It is a Winebego...on steroids. They try to make it seem better by painting it all black...which clearly states "Security" more than having the original 'Pierce Arrow' paint job of course, but when you break it down to the nuts and bolts of the thing...it was like a summer camp day trip down a possibly bomb ininfested road. Good times were to be had by all.
Despite all the trepidation...There were no explosions. That's a very good thing. It was after my arrival that I was ushered into a fifty man. This tent would serve as my home for the majority of the week. That's not a bad thing, except that it is virtually impossible to have any type of privacy in that situation. And again, this was an example of a tent having an identity crisis and trying to serve as an oven.
What's worse...no one here seemed to know that I was supposed to be here. However, no one wanted to let me go back home, regardless of the fact that I seemed to have no purpose here. (Hey, you can't blame me for trying...besides...it's hot here.) So after being shuffled from place to place for a few days, and sleeping in between movements...Here I am. I am finally in a permanent trailer...(I'll explain more about that next time!!!)...I am gainfully employed, and I've started to get some sleep. My schedule is not too bad...it's only half days. (12 hours is half of a day, right?) And seven days a week is normal...for prisoners.
What day is it anyway?
SSG Newman
OUT
So it all actually started a couple of weeks ago, in Texas. (which is a whole other country anyway, right.) That's where the Army makes sure I am physically and administratively ready to suffer the travesty of being thrown into a strange land and experience the culture shock of a lifetime. (This is a nice thing for the Army to do, since I had already run all over Ft. Meade, ensuring that I was physically and administratively ready to suffer the travesty of being thrown into a strange land and experience the culture shock of a lifetime all on my own.)
After a week of poking, proding, and generalized group agitation, we boarded the plane for IRAQ. After a quick 24 hour flight, we landed in Kuwait, the first stop on my magical mystery tour. I'm not going to tell you how hot Kuwait is...as I'm sure you can assume for yourself. I will however comment that I did not know it was possible for weather to supply its own sweat.
Most people spend a couple of days in Kuwait, waiting for a flight into Baghdad International Airport...heretofore know as BIAP. Fortunatel I had an assertive First Sergeant in my group, and we were on a plane for BIAP within six hours. (This is good, because the tent we were placed in to wait for the flight thought it was a convection oven, and tried to cook us...I beleive I am now medium rare.)
The flight itself was OK...we had to wear all of our gear for the first time. This is a great method for making yourself very tired and often less hydrated than one would normaly like to be. (All my gear weighs about the same as my daughter...I'd much rather give her a piggy back ride, than wear that vest.) Flying on a Military C-130 Aircraft is not like hoping on a coach section of American Airlines and flying nonstop from D.C. to L.A. No, it's not quite that comfortable.
The "final aproach" to BIAP lasts about 3 seconds. The actual landing is more like a ride at Disney Land than an airplane ride. The good thing is, it's over quickly...very quickly. We went from Eleventeen Thousand feet to about two hundred feet in about three and three quarter seconds. (It was pretty cool...don't tell my Wife I said that.)
Once we landed at BIAP, it was time to get us to our final destination within Iraq. This is where the newcommer feels a bit overwhelmed and frankly...scared. If you've seen any newscast in the last three years, then you understand why.
I was scheduled to hop on a helicopter and fly into my area with four other soldiers...all officers. (It should be noted that flying is the prefered method of travel, as the insurgents have yet devised a method for suspending an IED {Bomb} in mid air...) As they were calling out the names on the manifest I could not help but notice that they forgot to call off mine.
This begins our lesson in politics and the enlisted man...Basically what happened was that approximately five minutes prior to my boarding the helicopter and taking a relatively safe flight into the city, I was bumped so that another officer could take my nice cozy seat. Military Mathmetics is as follows:
Colonel/O-6 + (4x LT. Colonel/O-5 x4) + SSG Newman/E-6 divided by 5 seats on the Helocopter= My ass on a convoy into the city.
So, it was the Rhino for me. What is the Rhino? It is a Winebego...on steroids. They try to make it seem better by painting it all black...which clearly states "Security" more than having the original 'Pierce Arrow' paint job of course, but when you break it down to the nuts and bolts of the thing...it was like a summer camp day trip down a possibly bomb ininfested road. Good times were to be had by all.
Despite all the trepidation...There were no explosions. That's a very good thing. It was after my arrival that I was ushered into a fifty man. This tent would serve as my home for the majority of the week. That's not a bad thing, except that it is virtually impossible to have any type of privacy in that situation. And again, this was an example of a tent having an identity crisis and trying to serve as an oven.
What's worse...no one here seemed to know that I was supposed to be here. However, no one wanted to let me go back home, regardless of the fact that I seemed to have no purpose here. (Hey, you can't blame me for trying...besides...it's hot here.) So after being shuffled from place to place for a few days, and sleeping in between movements...Here I am. I am finally in a permanent trailer...(I'll explain more about that next time!!!)...I am gainfully employed, and I've started to get some sleep. My schedule is not too bad...it's only half days. (12 hours is half of a day, right?) And seven days a week is normal...for prisoners.
What day is it anyway?
SSG Newman
OUT
posted by Unknown at 7:02 PM
2 Comments:
Hey there SSG Newman- :D
Glad to see you're on the ground and in fairly good spirits. We're thinkin about ya a lot here in deep south of the USA- I was gonna say the "hot" south- but compared to where you are- this is probably frigid. Anyways- U STAY SAFE=
Russ, Rachel & the Kiddies
Hey check your email if you can
Post a Comment
<< Home