It's All About Letting Them Know How I Feel

I have been very tired lately. That is because I have not been sleeping like I should. I have averaged about four and a half to five hours a day. While that is not as bad as it can get...it is still very hard to maintain after a while. I couldn't figure out what it was either...until recently.

The normal noise of this place is one thing...but the noises in this city that I have come to know and hate have gotten quite frequent lately. It interrupts my sleep and once I am woken to gun shots or an explosion...it is hard to go back to sleep. And because of this...I have come to a conclusion.

Terrorists and Insurgents are inconsiderate.

That is because they interrupt my sleep A LOT! This past week has been possibly one of the hardest since I have been out here. I have said that I don't have it as bad as some people out here, because I am in the "Highly fortified Green Zone." Yeah...Well...This place sucks...Plain and simple.

It started early in the week, as my room mate and I were talking before I went to work. In typical fashion there was the sound of gunfire nearby. It is a sound that doesn't do much to me anymore...it is quite common place. I mean...most of the time they are fire fights out in the city...usually on the other side of the river. So...I am out of range...but I can hear it.

That night, though, it sounded a bit closer. We commented on it...and then continued talking. As I left, I realized that the sounds of the gunfire were still going on. That was a bit unusal, because they are usually over in a few minutes. It had been about 20 minutes at this point.

So I go into work and am met with bad news from the beginning. A Helicopter had gone down. All the personnel onboard were killed in the crash. It would be the first of four this week. That is never good. So needless to say...I was not in the best of moods.

After a long shift, I went back to the trailer for some much needed rest. I usually spend a couple of hours winding down...usually a shower, check e-mail, and then a TV show or two...then off to LA LA LAND. I drifted off at about 2:00 or 2:30. It didn't last.

I woke up on the floor. In my sleep, I reacted to an explosion that was much closer than normal. The Embassy had been hit with a rocket, and I only live a couple hundred meters from that. I was fine...and in the end, no one was killed...Thank God. But, my adrenaline told me that sleep was out of the question.

A couple days later...still short on sleep...I had another long shift. Yet another helicopter went down. This means a busy night for me. So, again it was off to bed for some much needed rest...after I tried to wind down and get all the garbage from my shift out of my head. After a while, blessed sleep took over again.

This time, I woke up on the floor because the blast actually knocked me out of bed. A mortar had hit forty-five meters from my trailer. I heard the dirt and debris landing on my roof. I held my breath and waited for the rest of the attack.

There is a strange thing that happens when one finds himself lying face down on the floor, waiting for the worst. Your mind goes into overdrive and a lifetime's worth of thoughts runs through it in a matter of moments. I worried about all kinds of things...like when and where would the next one hit?

I worried, that IF this was it...did I really want anyone to find me in my underwear, on the floor? I wondered if anyone else was lying on their floors waiting. I thought to myself that if I had gone to the PX like I had planned, would I even be asleep at that point...and if not...would it matter?

The worst part for me was the surreal feelings that I got when my mind focused on my family. I wondered what they were doing at that point. My son was at school, as was my Wife...and my daughter would have been at daycare. I had hoped they were all smiling and happy at that exact moment. I hoped they knew how much I loved them...and how scared I was that I thought I would never be able to tell them that again.

Clearly...I was fine. The attack ended as quickly as it began...as they tend to do. I went to work and called home. It felt good to hear their voices. I had a hard time hanging up. I didn't want to get into details...and at the time, I wasn't even aware of how I really felt...but I just knew I wanted to go home.

My wife told me that it would be soon...we didn't have that long left. What she didn't...couldn't understand...was that out here, there is no promise of tomorrow. There never is anywhere...but it seems that the world is more against you here.

I went through much of the week in a funk. I was told by more than a couple people that I looked more angry than usual...and that I had reached new levels of grumpiness. (The grumpiness is kind of my trademark...I like to think of it as part of my "Manly Charm"...or something like that.) I could not for the life of me figure it out.

Then it hit me.

I needed to talk to them...my family and make sure they knew how I felt. I knew I told them...but I needed to know that they KNEW. So I did. And I felt better. I had to get it off my chest...how scared I was that I could be gone and not sure if my Son knew exactly how much Daddy misses him...or if my Daughter knew that she was the number one girl in my heart!!!!

As I started typing this a couple days ago things were getting better. Then I came into work tonight. And another attack. It didn't happen here...not even close...at all. But, it was the worst attack since the war began...and it was the first thing I heard about when I got to work.

It's odd how you just seem to know when it's time to go home. And I think that we need to all just go home. It is almost to the point where we should say that we gave it the good old college try and that's the best we can do. But then again...I wouldn't want anyone to leave my country in this condition...

...Damn my desire to make life better for others.

When it all boils down to it...things like this past week...things that shake you to your very core....tend to bring you back to what is important, and give you a renewed focus. For me...it's all about letting them know how I feel.

SFC NEWMAN
OUT

The Winds of Change

There is a cold rain falling in Baghdad tonight. The weather is getting warmer again, after several weeks of cold temperatures...but tonight's rain is cold. I enjoyed it as I walked from my trailer to the Palace. I smiled as I saw all the people trying to hurry up to get out of it, who had themselves bundled up to stay warm.

I work the night shift...midnight to noon now...and it lends itself to a strange lifestyle. I sleep when most people are awake...and I start getting ready for work the day before my shift actually starts...(Strange, I know...but technically midnight is the next day.) Well...because of this strange pattern of life, I have become very aware of noises...sounds...and other things throughout the day that I never really paid much attention to before.

For example, I know what a mop sounds like when it is being swept back and forth across a four foot wide hall way just outside my door. Normally I wouldn't even pay attention to something like that, but lately...that has been the loudest mop in the world...everyday...at 1:35 in the afternoon...just as I start to doze off.

I hear birds sing in a way that I never thought possible. Now I can tell the difference between a pigeon cooing and scuttling around on the sidewalk outside my trailer, and a crow as it lands on my roof. I hear doors slam three trailers down, and dumpsters being emptied near the Palace.

I also now have the ability to tell the difference between a Blackhawk Helicopter and an Apache as they fly over my trailer. The "Little Bird" helo makes a distinctly different noise than the Chinook...but they all wake me up. I know how to distinguish between our guys practicing their marksmanship at the range, and a firefight between insurgents and Iraqi Police. I can tell you if that explosion was an 88 millimeter mortar round, or a Vehicle Borne Improvised Explosive Device. I can know in my heart and soul if the thudding that just shook my trailer was a controlled detonation of something that we found...or if it was another mortar that hit nearby.

I also noticed something today...that I have only heard a couple of times since I have been out here. The wind. The wind was out in full force today...Whipping around all sorts of debris and smacking it against my trailer. The sound of it whistling through the rows of trailers and shaking the tarps covering the sandbag walls echoed throughout the Embassy complex today.

It seems that when the wind blows through Baghdad, things start to happen. The last time there was a wind like this, the weather started to become colder. The mood of the whole place seemed to change.

I can feel it again...and have for some time now. Things are changing in Iraq. In my job...a slow boring day is a good thing. It means that more soldiers were able to call or write home that night and say, "I'm fine...I made it another day."

I have been extremely busy for the last few days.

What it is...I can't exactly say. Not because of security or anything like that...but because it isn't one single thing...more a series of events, or a set of circumstances that just seem a bit off.

Most people who follow the news and politics and stuff, will know that statements have been made from both sides of this thing. (You know...this whole war thing...) It seems that patience is wearing thin on both sides...and we are all testing to see how far the other will let us go. Unspoken tensions and frustrations seem to be changing the way people are thinking over here.

We now have the Prime Minister criticizing the policy over here. I think it's bad enough that our own policy makers are bickering over what to do with this situation and how to handle it...let alone that whatever it is we are doing seems to be so bad, or wrong, or whatever, that the people we are trying to help are pretty muh saying "Don't bother." (Or so it would seem half the time...trust me...come work where I work and you will learn to loathe the mainstream media as much as I do.)

So, as I walked to work, I noted the changes. The change is weather...it is really starting to warm up and get very nice out here again. The change in mood...it seems that everyone knows something is going on...but no one is saying anything about it. The chages in attitudes from the top down...just watch the news.

I can't imagine that a city with as much history as Baghdad, and as much potential as this place has can be happy about what is going on within its own streets. It felt to me, as I walked in that cold rain, that the city itself was sad. The winds...a sigh of frustration and despair...and Baghdad was crying.

Something is going to happen. I don't know if it is political, or something in the media...or just and overall shift in the attitudes of everyone involved.

Something is different.

I don't know what will happen...or how big it is going to be...but I do know that all day, as I tried to sleep...I tossed and turned, as outside my trailer and all throughout the streets of Baghdad blew the Winds of Change.

SFC NEWMAN
OUT

Worth the Pain and Hurting

It would be an understatement to say that I was more unhappy with this half of the tour...Since I came back from R&R, that is...Than I was to originally come out here. I was warned that this half would be worse...Especially the first month to six weeks. I can see why. Everything irritates me more than normal. I am fed up with the weather...(Which has taken a 180 degree turn from when I first arrives in country by the way...It is now cold and rainy...Yes rainy.). I hate the the way that even though nothing has changed, everything seems different somehow. And worst of all...I have been back in country about a week and it seems like it's been month.

Beyond that, my kids seem to be having a harder time this time around than the first. At least that is the impression I am getting from home. My daughter especially. I think it is because she is older...At the age now where things like Daddy not being around makes more sense...And she gets that something is not right. She, and my Son, will be fine...I know...But it makes it hard when I hear them crying over the phone and there is nothing I can do to help.

I miss my wife more than I thought...Earlier than I thought. That sounds bad, I know...But in our situation, we learn to deal with being apart. Yes, we miss each other when we are separated, but we learn to live with it as part of our lives. This time, though...I don't know...I just really feel like part of me stayed back in Maryland...And it hurts. I can't wait for June...To be back with her.

And this brings me to my next point...When I get back, it is going to be a busy time. It will be the summer time and my wife and the kids will be on vacation. (She's a teacher, and they're...Well...Kids...It's summer time after all.) I intend to take as much leave as my unit will let me. I will have a lot of time to make up with my family. Shortly after I get back my wife and I are scheduled to go to a friend's wedding...In the Outer Banks, North Carolina...At the beach.

My wife has gone into "I need a Wedding at the Beach body" diet and exercise mode. She is my absolute hero when it comes to the dedication she displays when she puts her mind to her diet and exercise. Mostly because when it comes to that, I have the attention span of a fruit fly.

However...She has inspired me to get my hind quarters in gear and get back into the gym. If you have been reading this series for a while you will know that I made a comment a while back about those people that spend all their spare time in the gym and counting their caloric intake to the seventeenth decimal place. I am NOT one of those guys. I have decided, though, to get back into the gym on a more regular basis.

I used to go to the gym regularly. I worked twelve hour shifts when I was stationed in Denver, and we were given two hours during each shift to work out. I would go with my friend and we would actually have a decent workout. I looked pretty decent. Then I became a recruiter and they expected me to work 18 hour days and then work out on my own time...Yeah, right! Then I pretty much came straight over here...And I have not been as motivated to go to the gym here either.

I think it was the low pressure atmosphere of having that work out buddy in Denver...Coupled with the friendly competition we provided each other...That made it seem less like a chore and more like just hanging out. I don't have that anymore...And it has effected my motivation to go.

My room mate...All five feet two inches of him...(You're my boy, Rhino...You know Damn Right.)...IS one of those guys that lives and breaths the gym. He is one of those people that likes to pick up heavy things and make himself look all swollen and bumpy...Like he has a glandular problem. So I asked for his help. He was more than happy to set me up on a program.

This is what I told him...As far as what I was willing to put into this venture: "I don't want to spend more than an hour in the gym at one time...And I don't think I can stop eating all the junk I eat...Make me look like that guy on the cover of Men's Health."

He laughed.

Then he asked me what I really wanted to look like. I told him that I DID NOT want to continue looking like I USED to be in shape. Honestly, I am not that bad off...But I do have what I like to call my "hubby tummy," and I have lost a lot of the definition I used to have when I was 21. But who hasn't, right? Right.

SO...We determined that I need was to tone down, add a little bit of upper body bulk, and sculpt. He said he would jot down what I should do in the gym to get started. When he was done, he handed me a notebook, the first TWO WHOLE PAGES of which were filled out with words like "Press...Curl...Reps...And sets." I calmed down after I realized he had just given me a week's worth of workouts at once.

So, it was off to bed to get some rest so that I was refreshed for my work out in the morning. I woke up at about 3:15... Which for me is good and bad. Bad, because I don't sleep through the night. Good, because that happens to be the perfect time to call the kids and say good night.

So I did.

After a few minutes on the phone it was back to sleep. My room mate got up at his usual time...4:30 A.M. and went to the gym. He came back and got ready for work. As he left, I rolled over and forced myself to sit up. I suddenly remembered one of the reasons I stopped going to the gym...I love to sleep.

I got up, though, and went. I did the work out he gave me. I hate him.

It's not that it was a tough work out...It is a basic "getting back into shape" routine. It's just that I am so far "OUT" of the shape I used to be in...It's going to take some time.

My muscles actually yelled at me this morning. I remembered that I don't like trying to pick up things that are so heavy they cause me to make silly faces as I lift them. I remembered how much I hate to sweat. I also remembered that I have very white legs...(hey, I'm not the one who said "I've got a great idea...Let's put mirrors on ALL the walls of the gym so no matter where you look you can see all the flaws you are trying to get rid of from MULTIPLE ANGLES!!!!!). The paleness can't change in the gym, HOWEVER it IS noticeable...But that will be changed when the weather gets warmer and I can get back to the pool...Swimming is a great workout.

I guess another reason I stopped going to the gym was that I have quite a poor image of myself. I still see that gawky kid with the two different colored shoes who, when it was time to pick teams in gym class used to get picked after the chess club kids and the guy who wore a helmet in the lunch line every time I look in the mirror.
And, as stated the gym is a masochistic and twisted 'hall of mirrors' with sweat. But this was going to make me feel better...Right?

Ah...The price of beauty.

I know what the end result is going to be, though and it actually is helping me have something else to focus on instead of how much I hate being here. I actually love how I feel after a good workout...(at least immediately after...I am going to hate how sore I am in the morning.)...And I want to not be embarrassed when we go to the beach this summer.

So...It is not an ideal situation. My kids are sad that I am gone, I am not happy...And generally it is a daily countdown until I get to go home again. I am trying to get out of this funk that i have been in since I got back, and I think I have found one distraction that makes me feel good and is good for me. It has given me a goal to work towards...And I hope to impress my wife when I get back, since she is my inspiration. (As is the never fading image of my own pasty white legs...Yuck...)

I just hope when I get back, that it is all worth the Pain and Hurting.

SFC NEWMAN
OUT

The Worst Best Thing They Can Do

I got off the airplane and started walking down the hall. The last three days had gone by relatively smoothly. I had left Baghdad and was well on my way to my long awaited R&R. The trip out of Iraq for a soldier is not what one would call an easy thing. It starts with a midnight ride to the airport on the lovely little rhino. (We all know how much I love that thing...just check out my post entitled "What Day is it Anyway?") It is then followed by two to three days in Kuwait...mostly waiting and doing nothing...except going through customs and then being locked into a containment area so that you can't sneak in veggies or illegal porn. Other than that it isn't too bad.

I was excited beyond words. I had been waiting to see this day for seven months now. It was the longest that my wife and I had been apart since we had met. As I walked through the security check point, I saw her. She was beautiful. It was like seeing her for the first time all over again...and I fell in love one more time.

She smiled at me and I smiled right back. Then we put our arms around each other and just stood there...enjoying the moment. It felt so good to be back with someone I truly cared about. After we finally let each other go, it was time to go surprise the kids. They didn't know that I was coming home and I couldn't wait to see their faces.

My wife dropped me at the house and I went and waited in the living room. She picked the kids up from daycare and told them she had a big surprise at home. They came in and began to look for their surprise. My son found the Mac and Cheese that my mother in law had left for me and asked in a disappointed voice, "Is that it?" I had to force myself not to laugh out loud...but then they came around the corner and saw me.

My son screamed, then looked closer and realized it was me. "Daddy?" he asked...almost not sure what to do. That lasted about half a second. He jumped on me and began laughing...I cried.

My daughter just stood there for a minute, smiling...but still not sure what to do. I looked her in the eye and said..."Come here, Poodle." She laughed and ran up and hugged me. She didn't let go for three days.

It was wonderful...and strange all at the same time. Things were almost too normal. By that, I mean that I was not used to being in a place where it seemed like everyone actually wanted me to be there. It is hard over here in Baghdad because it really doesn't seem like anyone cares about the individual. But here I was, at home and everyone wanted me there. It took a while for me to let my guard down...I was a bit defensive when I shouldn't have been.

After a few days, though...It was back to normal. It also struck me how much I had missed the quiet. When the lights went out that first night home and we were laying there about to go to sleep...there was no noise. It caught me off guard. I am used to the sound of my AC/Heater vibrating the whole trailer...or the distant (or not so distant) sounds of a gun battle lulling me to sleep. There was not an explosion to be heard, nor helicopter over head. I fell asleep smiling that night.

The Friday before Christmas we hosted a little get together at my house so that all my friends could come and tell me how much they love me!!!! It was fun. I enjoyed getting to see everyone that I had missed for the last seven months and just relax and talk....Reminisce about the fun we all had. One of my friends that showed up was a guy that I hadn't seen in nearly a decade. Again it was just great to relax and have fun...and feel like I was actually wanted.

Christmas eve came and that means a trip down to my parents house. We loaded up the van and headed south into Virginia to spend the night and then go to Christmas Eve services at the church I grew up in.

The plan was for my wife and I to spend the evening in a hotel room while the kids had a sleep over with Nana and Pappy. I think it was too much for the kids...they didn't want me to go away again...and they let us know it. At first I was very upset. You see, my dates for R&R had changed, and I was home earlier than I had originally planned. This put me home more than a week before I wanted to be...which means my wife had to continue to work for the first week that I was home and the kids still went to school and daycare.

So...I was very upset because this meant that my wife and I wouldn't get a night to ourselves the whole time I was home. We still went out to dinner, and talked. She did that thing she is so good at...and made me realize that it wasn't the end of the world. I calmed down...and we went back to my parents and had a great time.

Then it was Christmas eve, and that means Church and then the drive home. My kids were great...a bit ansy...but good overall. We got home and my wife and I put the kids to bed and then did the "Santa thing" and put out the remainder of the gifts. This ALWAYS entails me putting together some complicated toy of some sort for one or both of the kids. This year it was soccer goals for my son...It took me about half an hour to put eight pieces of tubing and a net together!

Christmas morning...it is a magical and wonderful day...children smile and laugh...and wake their parents up way too early. I love it. For us...there are two stages to Christmas morning. First...we open gifts at our house, then we move over to my wife's parents' house and open gifts there, followed by the best brunch of the year. This year, Christmas morning lived up to all my expectations.

The best gift I could have received was the opportunity to come home during this time of year. There are so many of us that serve that did not get the opportunity and had to spend the holidays overseas. I am so grateful that I could go home and be with those that mean the most to me in the whole world. It was as perfect a Christmas as I could wish for...and I thank my family for making it so.

I love you all so much.

Which brings me to the irony in all of this. The one thing that could take the euphoric feelings and happy emotions and stomp all over them was looming on the horizon. My kids could tell. They knew that this was a special trip and Daddy was not home for good. And, the night before I left...it showed.

My son got out of bed about four times, with various excuses...but every time my wife and I could tell that he was making sure I was still there. I went back in his room with him and laid down after the last time and promised him that I wouldn't leave without telling him.

My daughter called me in about three or four times as well. One time she was crying and said she had a bad dream. I asked what her dream was about. She told me, "I dreamed you went back to Iraq already." Again, I laid with her and gave her the same assurances.

My heart was broken...but I knew from the beginning that this was how it would be. I laid next to my wife, with her in my arms and just wished that I could stop time. I had missed having her close to me for so long, and now that we were getting used to each other again, I had to go.

What this vacation has done for me is something I can never let go...and it is what will keep me going for the remainder of my tour. It has cemented in my heart and my mind the relationship that my wife and I have...the love I have for my children and they for me...and my place in the world.

Everything I do, is for my family. They are the reason I get up in the mornings and do what I do everyday. I love them like I have never loved before and that love seems to grow more everyday.

While getting back on that airplane was not as difficult this time as the first, it was still one of the hardest things for me to do. My children handled it better...at least as I boarded. They looked very sad, and I could barely look into their eyes. I could see how much I was hurting them by leaving again. The only comfort I had was knowing that this time was a bit shorter than the first.

So...while going home was the best and most needed thing that I could have done...leaving them again was the worst. It is strange...taking leave, that is much needed...and the level of emotional "roller coasterness" that you are sent through. (Not to mention that I...being six and a half feet tall...was shoved in the last seat of the airplane for the twenty hour journey from Atlanta to Kuwait...and then froze to death in Kuwait for two days until I got my flight to Baghdad.)

I think that I would have been a miserable bastard if I had not taken my R&R. However, I think it may have also been easier not to go...because I would not have had to leave my family again. As much as it is needed...it almost seems like a double edged sword. YES...I am so very happy that I got to go home and see my family...but I am heart-broken that I had to leave and hurt them all over again. This is why the R&R program is the Worst Best thing they can do.

SFC Newman
OUT