Some photos taken over the past couple of weeks by Josh.
A dust storm rolling towards Tallil Air Base (in Iraq):
A stop in Ireland:
A stop in Maine, where local volunteers greet the troops who come through:
Arriving in Wisconsin:
Photos of Fort McCoy, Wisconsin:
Photo taken at the Camp Adder Memorial Wall
Here is a photo from several weeks ago of Josh with another officer from his Brigade:
Not much new from Josh. Same ol', same ol' with him!
On the home front, we are mourning the loss of one of Josh's grandmothers. She passed away in Florida earlier this month. She was 92. She was very loved by all of us. We miss her very much.
In April, Amy and I are moving! Amy is getting bigger and more mobile and it is time that she had her own room! It will be quite the task to move everything here, but we hope to be settled into the new place before Josh returns at the end of the summer. That's all for now. Happy spring everyone!
A few days ago I finally was allowed to break out of the Brigade Headquarters and see a little bit of the world out there. My assignment was to make a presentation in Baghdad at a place I’ll just call “HQ" for now. The presentation was about… ha ha, thought you had me there. No, I can’t tell you that either. But it was an important subject, and I was rather happy to have been the BCT’s representative to discuss that subject with the people at “HQ." After having my 20 minute presentation whittled down to a 5-minute shell of its former self, I was ready to go. I just had to get there.
I could have gone by air, but that would have involved some complicated flight routing. Also, passenger service in this theater makes Northwest Airlines look good, so I ruled that out in favor of ground transportation (no offense to the Air Force – they do the best they can). Since one of 1/34 BCT’s two main missions is escorting logistical convoys, this was not a major problem. I got linked up with a CET (Convoy Escort Team) from the 1-34th Brigade Troops Battalion who were traveling in that general direction. The CET commander, SSG L, is a strong leader who is going to get a chance to go to Ranger School when the deployment is over and before he demobilizes – a very rare opportunity for a National Guard NCO. My colleague in the Plans Office, CPT J, used to command this company.
As an aside, that’s one big difference between the National Guard and active duty – years after leaving command, CPT J can go back to his old company and still know a lot of the people there – almost all of the NCOs, in fact. If I went back to D/1-9 IN to visit, there would not be a soul there who recognized me… the last one I knew to leave that company was Coax, the company mascot.
I met up with the CET a while before their departure time, so I could participate in their pre-combat checks and in their convoy briefing. It was a little awkward for me to just sit there and watch – I felt like I should be doing something. But my brain told me to hold back – it wasn’t my company, and SSG L knew what he was doing and certainly did not need any “help" from a Brigade staff officer! After making sure everything was working, he gathered the team together for the convoy briefing. He talked about recent enemy activity on the route, reviewed some other basic information, and reminded everyone of certain basic items of information such as their order of march.
I rode in the back of one of the vehicles. Again, I felt pretty awkward. From where I was sitting, I could see very little and I certainly could not direct anything. Once again, my brain told me that there was no need – that SSG L could handle any situation that we were bound to encounter. Still, a part of me wanted to be up where I could see, be able to issue instructions – basically, I wanted to be a company commander again. I always felt that while D/1-9 IN was a successful company, I never got things quite right. I often think about what I would do differently, knowing what I know now and with three years of perspective on the decisions I made then. True, you can never go back… but that doesn’t make it any easier to be a mere bump on a log, like I was. I really felt like I was a burden to those guys although again, logically I knew my presence really didn’t affect them much.
The crew I was with was an interesting bunch. The vehicle commander was a SGT who was on his third deployment with the National Guard in the last five years. He’d been in Bosnia with the MN Guard in 2003, and in 2001 he had been deployed to Kuwait. As it turned out, he had arrived in Kuwait shortly after I left, back when I was with 1-9 CAV. So he remembered a lot of the things that I did – the primitive desert camp known only as “The Kabal," Mutla Ridge, Camp Doha, its gym and the 24-hour MWR place called “Uncle Frosty’s." I didn’t get a chance to speak much with the driver. The gunner must be one of the youngest soldiers in the BCT: he had celebrated his 19th birthday just a couple months earlier. It’s hard to believe that he was born in 1987. I remember one day when I was the HHC/2ID commander, I observed to 1SG Tager that the new soldiers who were arriving in our company had absolutely no recollection of the Cold War, since they were only 4 years old when the Berlin Wall fell. Well, this gunner was younger still! No, wait… he wasn’t younger. I’m just older. Damn.
The vehicle that I was in had an air conditioner that worked extremely well. While it is starting to cool off here – the temperature barely cracks 100 now, as opposed to the regular 120-degree days in July – it still gets warm in a vehicle when you are wearing body armor. It felt a little silly to be sitting inside an armored vehicle wearing what felt like enough armor to protect another vehicle, but there’s good reason for wearing it. I was glad for the a/c, although I am of the small hard-core group that thinks it is not strictly necessary. I spent three hours one day riding in a HMMWV that had no working a/c and had the heater stuck on full blast. It was about 120-130 degrees outside the vehicle and noticeably hotter inside. I also remember back in 2000, some of my battalion’s Bradley Fighting Vehicle crews had to shoot gunnery while it was 140 degrees out, AND they had to wear their chemical protective gear (MOPP2). So I just shake my head when I hear about how important air conditioning is.
We linked up with the trucks we were escorting and departed the base. The first leg of the trip was uneventful – just hours of sitting there, unable to see a darned thing. My feet were resting on a box of 40mm grenades, to my right were two M16s and an M4, and to my left were a box of flares, several drums of linked 5.56mm ammo, and a cooler full of water bottles and Gatorade. I didn’t have a headset, so I could rarely hear the crew. I passed the time by going through the greatest hits of Johnny Cash from 1955-1983.
We made a brief rest stop after a few hours at another base. I was impressed to see that SSG L quickly got out of his vehicle and went around to all his soldiers to remind them of their priorities of work. It’s easy for soldiers on a rest stop to immediately go for the Gatorade or for a snack, but SSG L made sure that their first priority was to make sure their vehicles were still good to go – cleaning their windshields and mirrors, checking their tire pressure, etc. He sent a couple of guys to grab some chow for the others, and kept most of his guys working. After a few minutes, they completed their checks and then could relax. Then we started on the second leg of our trip. Before long, we had some excitement.
I still had no headset, so I could hear very little of what the crew said. I do know that we were rolling along, when suddenly – WHAM! It sounded like someone popping a balloon next to my ear, and it made the vehicle shake. The vehicle commander immediately yelled to the gunner to make sure he was OK, and then asked what he could see. “I see a big cloud of smoke and sparks behind us, about 25 meters off the road!" Only seconds later, SSG L came on the radio asking all the vehicles to check in. Everyone checked in – our vehicle had been the one targeted. Nobody had seen anything other than the explosion. SSG L asked if there was any damage – none that we could tell. So wisely, he elected to continue the mission without stopping.
The rest of the ride was uneventful – for us. Occasionally the vehicle commander would yell out reports that he was getting. “IED detonation at Checkpoint ___!" “IED discovered at checkpoint ____" It was all either behind us or not on our route. Overall, not a terribly busy night in this part of Iraq. Obviously I can’t give any numbers, but there was a lot less going on this night than there usually was. Of course, if you’re the one who has an IED go off 25m away from you, it’s a pretty exciting evening.
We arrived at our destination, delivered all of the trucks to the truck yard, and then went to grab some temporary billets. The Movement Control Team at that camp is made up of soldiers from 1/34 BCT, so they take good care of our guys who show up there. I was a little embarrassed when they said they had a separate room for me, since the soldiers were staying in a tent. I went and grabbed about 5 hours of sleep, and then I had to get up to get breakfast and make my way over to “HQ."
The experience at “HQ" was certainly interesting. On my way in, I met the two people from our higher headquarters, the 13th Sustainment Command, who were also attending this meeting. We got to the briefing room pretty early, and were the first ones there. As others filed in, I soon realized I was one of the lowest-ranking people in the group – it was mostly COLs and LTCs or the equivalent – Navy Commanders, RAAF (Royal Australian Air Force) Squadron Leaders, etc. Not an NCO in the room. When I gave my presentation, the reaction was very positive – but I felt like a lot of the people present were thinking, “Wow, here’s a guy who has actually talked to REAL SOLDIERS who go ‘outside the wire.’" I don’t mean to insult them too much – it’s tough for Corps and Division staff officers to get a good picture of tactical realities while still doing their staff jobs – but it sure did feel strange.
After the meeting (of which my presentation was just one short segment) was over, I got stuck there for over an hour answering questions and having sidebar presentations. A number of officers just asked me to send them a copy of the presentation. I had one long conversation with another officer about some points I had raised regarding shortfalls in home and mobilization station training back in the US, and how we could better prepare units for deployment to Iraq. The officer I was talking to had some great ideas, and was interested in my thoughts. Unfortunately, he was an RAAF squadron leader – there didn’t seem to be a lot of US Army interest in those points. It figures.
After all of the sidebars and handshaking, I made a brief foray into the Operations Center at higher HQ, and then made my way back to the truck yard to meet SSG L and his team. I arrived in plenty of time to depart with them on the return trip, which was a relief – I knew they were a good bunch and didn’t want to take my chances with some random team! I’m sure there’s no bad teams in our Brigade, but still… I knew these guys and felt better about returning with them.
The trip back was not as smooth as the trip up. Our first hiccup was just trying to depart the truck yard. Something happened out on the road, and traffic was held up for quite a while. So, we parked the vehicles in the truck yard and waited… and waited… and waited. Finally the word came that we could “SP" (SP means “Start Point." Convoys will be assigned an “SP Time," which is the time they are supposed to depart their originating camp. “Being allowed to SP" meant we could start driving). Once again I was in the back seat and could see nothing – but this time I had a headset! At least that let me feel less oblivious.
This time we were about halfway to our rest stop when the excitement happened. I was staring over at an LCD display in the vehicle when SSG L came on the radio: “SAF! SAF"? (Small arms fire). “12 o’clock!" That confused us for a while. If the small arms fire was coming from 12 o’clock – straight ahead – what were the enemy doing, standing in the middle of the road? It turned out that a convoy ahead of us was under fire. SSG L and his crew put their pedal to the metal and screamed down the road toward the convoy under attack so they could render assistance. Now, I can only imagine that there are some people out there wondering, “If you see that people ahead of you are getting shot, why would you speed up TOWARD them." Well, being a soldier means thinking about things a little differently, and to SSG L and his crew, that meant that rendering assistance to other soldiers (even though we had no idea who they were) was of paramount importance. So he tried to get up there and help them. Meanwhile, we were still confused by the initial radio call, trying to figure out where the small arms fire was. The vehicle commander was yelling instructions to the gunner, and I relayed them because his intercom box had gone out. “3 o’clock!" he would swivel the turret to the right, “No, 9 o’clock!" Around to the left. Finally, “Go back to 6 o’clock." It was almost funny looking at how eager the gunner was to shoot something, but we never saw anything. At least in relaying commands I felt marginally useful.
It turned out to be an intense but brief fire-fight, and by the time SSG L caught up, everyone had moved on. There were brush fires on the side of the road from the tracer rounds that the other American convoy had been firing. A few minutes later, when the rest of our convoy drove past, I just noticed a slight orange glow inside the vehicle.
We made it to the rest stop without further incident, but when we tried to start the next leg of our trip, we got held up again due to weather. This seemed odd, since it was a clear night with no wind and a nearly full moon. We later learned, though, that our destination (well over 100miles away) had been suffering a pretty substantial sand storm. We had to wait for it to clear up. Another convoy pulled up next to us to wait, and it turned out to be from the same platoon as the guys I was with. One of the soldiers remarked to me that “this is the first time we’ve seen these guys from our platoon in weeks." The teams have such a high operational tempo - escorting convoys all the time - that they rarely find themselves in the same place as the rest of their platoon!
Finally the word came to continue, so we drove the last leg of the trip – completely without incident. We dropped off the cargo trucks in the truck yard and then went back “home," long after sunrise. I grabbed my gear, wished the crew well, and that was it. I walked over to the headquarters, dropped my gear, and put in a full day’s work. My trip was over – no more talking with real soldiers, no more going outside the wire. Back to the powerpoint, the emails, and the bureaucratic squabbling. So much for being useful.
As always, it's tough to find something to write about. For the most part, my life here is quite uninteresting. Since I spend my days in the headquarters writing orders, whenever something interesting does happen, I usually can't write about it because it's classified! So, to tide everyone over until I can send another interesting story, here are a couple of anecdotes about life here:
1. I like to start the day with irony. So, I got an alarm clock that plays music. For the last couple of weeks, I had it set to play the U2 song, "Beautiful Day." But I eventually decided that was too much irony even for me. So yesterday I switched it to play Credence Clearwater Revival's "Have You Ever Seen the Rain?"
2. The base at which I am stationed also houses an Italian brigade. So, there's a joke going around here (OK, I started it) about an American soldier and an Italian soldier discussing what it's like to be in Iraq.
The Italian soldier says, "I think-a the best-a part of being in Iraq-a is the chow."
To which the American soldier replies, "Really? That's pretty surprising. I thought you had much better food in Italy."
The Italian soldier then says, "No, no, no. I mean-a, the best-a part is when I get on-a the plane to leave, and I say, 'Ciao!'"
Thank you, thank you... I'll be performing here all year.
9 August 2006Today I actually got to leave “the wire" for the first time in over a month. I accompanied the BCT Commander and some other staff officers on a trip to Basra. Basra is the second-largest city in Iraq, located near the Persian Gulf. It is also the site of the headquarters for Multi-National Division, South-East (MND-SE). MND-SE is a British Headquarters. Currently the 7th UK Armored Division headquarters is serving there.
Basra is also, according to some stories, the historical site of the Garden of Eden. It is near the spot where the Tigris and Euphrates rivers meet; since both those rivers contributed enormously to the “cradle of civilization" in this area, it’s only natural that their meeting point should assume some legendary significance. However, as one soldier pointed out, “If this place is the Garden of Eden, I can understand why they ate that apple." It’s hot, it’s dry, and you can only imagine what it smells like in a city of 1.5 million people with no municipal trash system and inadequate sewage.
It was exciting to meet the UK staff, though. The division staff there is mostly British, but there are also Australian and Danish officers. We found that we could usually understand the Danish officers better than the Australians and most of the Brits.
I was particularly amused by a few things:
1. As we were getting ready to go to lunch, an Australian Colonel with whom we had been meeting, said, “I’m going to head on over to the cookhouse and secure a table, mates. I’ll see you there." I wanted to tell him to throw a couple of shrimp on the Barbie for us, but I held back.
2. While using a porta-john (I’m not sure what the Brits call these – maybe a “porta-loo?"), I noticed some authentic British Army Graffiti: “The QRH [Queen’s Royal Hussar’s] RSM [Regimental Sergeant-Major] is a WANKER!!!"
3. The British Division Chief of Staff looked almost exactly like Minnesota Governor Tim Pawlenty, to the point where LTC Kerska (our BCT Operations Officer) confessed that he kept wanting to call the guy “Tim."
4. While a few of us were waiting in the lobby of the HQ between meetings, we were trying to decipher some poorly edited Iraqi English-language newspapers. A British soldier who was guarding the entrance walked over to us and said, “Here, gents. You look like you need to read some REAL newspapers," and handed us a stack of British tabloids. That was much appreciated by a lot of the guys.
I can’t write about the actual substance of the meetings, of course. They may provide a mildly interesting passage in a book someday.
Here are a few pictures from the trip (captions are below the photos):
I rode down to Basra and back with these guys: SPC Olson and SPC “Dirty" Whelpley. As with most Army nicknames, you really don’t want to know where that one came from.
This is me in Basra, with the vehicle. COL Elicerio, the BCT Commander, also rode in this vehicle, but he didn’t pose for photographs.
How do most people in Iraq live? Well, most of them live in cities, often in very crowded neighborhoods, trying to get by with 6-12 hours of electricity a day (which seems to come at the times you need it the least). I rarely go into the center areas of any large cities, though, so most of the Iraqis I actually see live like this family, along the main highway. As you can see, it’s a mud house. There are no electrical lines to it, a few animals, and little to no shade. Most of the families I see along the road, I have difficulty figuring out what they do to get by. Very few of them seem to have crops growing (there are a few irrigation canals, in very poor condition). Few of them seem to have enough animals to make a viable living from that. Some of them run little roadside shacks from which they sell items, and others, no doubt, are somehow involved in smuggling. Actually the ones with the roadside shacks probably are also involved in smuggling. For some of the tribes here, smuggling has been their way of life for as long as anyone has recorded their existence – hundreds, if not thousands, of years. As long as they are not helping insurgents, we leave the smuggling issue to the Iraqi authorities. Sometimes it’s best not to mess with the local traditions.
Most of the tribes here were fully nomadic until the early 19th century. Around that time, the Ottoman Empire launched a campaign to forcibly settle the nomads in this part of their empire. When the southern Iraqi tribes settled and switched to a more agrarian lifestyle, they also converted to Shi’a Islam. Partly this was due to their anger at the (Sunni) Ottomans who were forcing them to change their ways, and partly because Shi’a clerics aggressively targeted these tribes for conversion at around that time. It also helped that the two main Shi’a shrines and centers of learning, Karbala and Najaf, are in Southern Iraq. Some scholars say that before settling down, the nomadic tribes really could not be described as either Shi’a or Sunni, since they had kept themselves apart from the main streams of Islamic thought. In any case, something like 95% of the tribes adopted Shi’a (more specifically, “Twelver Shi’a") Islam at around this time.
Hard to believe, but it appeared that there were people actually living in this house.
It’s also hard to believe that this land was once the “Fertile Crescent." A long time ago, it really was perfect for agriculture and city-building. The mud here makes good bricks, and there was natural tar available upriver. The Tigris river level was slightly higher than the Euphrates, so irrigation canals were built between the two, and huge plots of land could be cultivated. These natural advantages help explain why so many well-known empires were based here: Sumer, Assyria, Babylon, the Sassanids, the Abbasid Caliphate….Over time, though, governments stopped maintaining those canals, and they fell into disrepair. Finally the Mongols destroyed most of what was left.
More recently, Iraq used to produce 90% of the world’s dates. But 12 years of UN sanctions destroyed that industry. The Iraqis are trying slowly to bring it back, but first they must defeat a parasite that has infected or killed most of their date palms.
Anyway, that’s all I have time to write for now. I could say a few things about my daily activities, but unfortunately most of it is extremely boring. Stone Cold the polar bear manages to have a lot more fun than I do - you should check out his site if you haven’t already.
I shall write more soon, Insh'allah.
"Many Arabs hate and fear the Jew, and so did I - but not any more, because now I have met and spoken with you." - Zakar (Last Name Withheld), Judge Advocate for the Iraqi Army Camp Ur Garrison
According to the book of Bereisheet (Genesis), Avram (later Avraham) was born in Ur. The Arabs refer to Avraham/Ibrahim as "Father of the Prophets." Excavations of Ur turned up the foundations of this house, which is supposed to have been the house of Avram and his father, Terah. Naturally we don't know for sure that this was the house, but it could have been; with its many rooms and courtyards, this was clearly the home of an important, but not royal, family - such as Avram and Terah's. The house was partially reconstructed in the 1990s using the original foundations.
Here I am standing in front of some shelves in what may have been Avram's library or (more likely) a kind of living room with some shelves for idols - the idols he eventually smashed.
This week, I received some photos from Josh. He sent me prints through the mail and asked me to scan some of them into the computer so that I could share them with family and friends. Because they were taken with a disposable camera and I had to scan them in from prints (they were not digital to start with), they are not the best resolution or quality, but they should still give you an idea of what Josh has been up to nonetheless. These photos were taken between January and April 2006:
(Mar 2006) Civil Assistance in Iraq: Soldiers passing out candy to kids near an Iraqi school.
(Mar 2006) Civil Assistance in Iraq: Josh tried to take a photo of the shy girl on the wall who was watching everything going on near the school where the Army was distributing humanitarian aid. (There are some children in the foreground.) Josh wondered what she was dreaming of and whether she's going to have a chance to achieve those dreams.
(Mar 2006) Iraq: Here is an NCO who accompanied Josh on one of the missions. The Iraqi boy next to him loved taking and being in photographs (he took the three photos following this one).
(Mar 2006) Iraq: The Iraqi boy took this photo of Josh and the NCO.
(Mar 2006) Iraq: Another photo of Josh and the NCO.
(Mar 2006) Iraq: This is Josh asking the Iraqi boy to give the camera back. (The boy REALLY enjoyed taking photos.)
So far, Josh has been able to contact me regularly via email from Iraq. All seems to be going well, relatively speaking. He ate at an italian restaurant on base this weekend and was even able to call me! He managed to send me some photos the other day and I wanted to share them:
Josh in Kuwait, standing next to a sign placed there by his former unit (he used to serve with the 1st Cav Division a few years ago - I've blurred the background for security reasons):
Josh on the C-130 (large plane that took him to Iraq):
(Note that most future photos I get from Josh may be blurred or rendered to make them safe to share with friends and family.)
I almost forgot! Josh sent this message from the polar bear, Stone Cold:
The temperature here is quite bearable for the humans - it is February, after all. I am still having trouble, though. If you thought it was amazing that a male polar bear could eat 160lbs of food in a single meal, you should see how much water we drink when you put us in the desert! All of the soldiers usually carry around a 1.5 liter water bottle and when they go outside the base they have a 3-liter "Camel-bak" that we drink from. I think I may have to start pulling around one of these 500-gallon "water buffalo" trailers.
I enjoyed the flight in to Iraq. I'm grateful that CPT Simer was able to convince the loadmaster on the C-130 that I didn't need to be strapped down to a pallet. What was most fun is that we were blacked out for most of the flight. Some of the soldiers on board got a little dizzy because of this, and because the C-130 made a few hard turns that you would never see a commercial jetliner do. But I enjoyed it.
That's all for now. Oh - someone please write to my division back home and tell them not to issue the other bears any additional cold weather gear. I will never need to wear that polar fleece, and when I tried to eat it, it tasted terrible!
(In case you are wondering about this polar bear, you can find out more about him here: Almost ready to go)
Josh is in Iraq now. He caught a ride on a C-130. He can't tell me which base yet, but says it's a quieter part of Iraq. He's living in a trailer and will have a roommate once the rest of the Brigade arrives at the end of this month or early next month. Luckily, he thinks his roommate will be one of his friends - a fellow officer from his unit. All in all, Josh sounds optimistic and as you can probably tell, he hasn't lost his sense of humor. He has granted me permission to share this information from his email today. Enjoy:
Everyone from the brigade we're replacing has been very friendly - they're all quite happy to see me, for some reason.
We flew in by C-130 from Ali Al-Salem airbase in Kuwait. When I was last here, in 2000, Ali Al-Salem was a Kuwaiti air force base with a large US presence. Now the US presence overwhelms the Kuwaitis. Ali Al-Salem is an absolutely dismal place as air force bases go, which means it's still a hell of a lot better than most Army bases. There's also a lot of different units, forces, and countries represented there. At one point we passed by an Australian supply depot. They had stuff on shelves inside tents, and a bunch of stuff stacked on pallets outside. I couldn't tell what was in the boxes, but I joked that it was all Vegemite. After all, they have several hundred soldiers in Iraq - they must go through a lot of Vegemite. "Aw, crickey! An IED!" I can just see Steve Irwin picking up an IED and saying, "Isn't she GORGEOUS! Look at 'er! Don't worry, little girl. I'm not here t o hurt you - whoa!" and then the IED explodes, miraculously leaving him unharmed except for scratches and soot all over. "Whew! You really have to be careful with those things, I tell you!"
Cut to Terri Irwin... "While Steve is out there picking up IEDs, I stay here on the FOB and organize the supplies. Hey, guys! Put that back! Ramadi only gets FIVE cases of Vegemite!"
During my brief time in Kuwait, I went to a couple of different camps and got to see a wide range of units: a MEU, an armored brigade, various USAF units, and even a Navy construction battalion ("Seabees") that was way too far inland. I watched some Seabees prepare a new trailer park at one camp. They were setting out concrete blocks for the trailers to rest on. One day, they surveyed the site, and staked it off. Two days later, one of the four sides had string running between the stakes. (it was about 60 meters on a side). The next day, another of the four sides had string. On day five, they laid one row of about 20 cinderblocks. The next day, another row. All told, they probably put in 20 minutes of work a day on this. Now, I'm going to assume that this was not their main effort and that they probably just had a small crew working on it in what little time they had to spare from more important tasks. This is becaus e I know the Seabees have not fallen that far from their glory days in WW2 when they could turn jungle into a fully operational airbase in a matter of days. Of course, they were only making Marine airstrips. If they had been constructing air force bases, they would have spent the first week just digging the pool and arranging the beach chairs, then another week building and furnishing the dining facility, another week on the BX, and then might have gotten started on the runways after a month or so.
By the way, it's a lot easier to make an airstrip or a road in the desert than in the jungle, especially if you can get by with a dirt road or airstrip. Matter of fact, in a lot of places in Kuwait, the only difference between the road and the desert on either side is that there are no potholes in the desert. So why don't you just leave the road and drive the desert? Because it's so easy to get lost once you get off the road - you can't navigate when the only recognizable terrain features move every time there's a strong wind!
So this was an entry in our staff journal from one of the days of this training exercise (I don't remember it word for word, but it was something like this):
"CAS [Close Air Support]: B52 drops 1000lb JDAM munitions at grid XYZ and grid ABC. BDA [Battle Damage Assessment]: 1 Auto rifle."
This was only an exercise, so nobody actually dropped any bombs, but I was just trying to imagine this happening in real life. I picture some Iraqi insurgent telling his story: "So there I was, in the woods, when suddenly this 1000-pound bomb comes flying right at me... and thanks be to Allah, it only hit my rifle, or I could have been killed!"
After we issue an order from the brigade to the battalions, the battalion staffs sometimes have questions about things in the order that need to be clarified, or questions that were not answered in the order. When this happens, the battalion staff sends up something called an RFI, or Request For Information. It arrives at the brigade headquarters, and an NCO decides who on the brigade staff should answer it, and then forwards the RFI to that individual, who is expected to reply if he can answer the question.
Some of the RFIs we receive are poorly worded. I've had a chance to reply to a few doozies. Here are some examples:
RFI: Where is the MA on FOB (Forward Operating Base) FORGE? Has C company identified?
Response: Unclear which meaning of "MA" you are referring to in the first question. In the second question, the verb "identified" requires a direct object for the meaning of the question to be clear.
RFI: Are we allowed to disperse fuel at the FOBs?
Response: EPA regulations prohibit the dispersal of fuel at FOBs. Fuelers and fuel tanks may be dispersed.
RFI: What is the requirement for refueling with regard to containment barriers?
Response: There is no requirement for you to refuel the containment barriers.
I am no longer allowed to answer RFIs.
In Memory of VADM William Lawrence
13 January 1930 - 2 December 2005
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Some background from the Tennessee Sports Hall of Fame:
Every so often, a person comes along whose life is a model of distinction and whose accomplishments are truly inspiring and extraordinary. On so many levels, Vice Admiral William Lawrence is just that kind of example: A true American hero.
A native of Nashville, VADM Lawrence graduated first in his class at West High School and was President of the Student Body. He was ranking officer in the ROTC, All-City in football, All-State in basketball, a member of the state championship basketball team, state boy's tennis champion and a recipient of the coveted William Hume Award.
Lawrence attended the U.S. Naval Academy, where he played three varsity sports and ranked 8 out of 725 academically. He also served as Class President, Commander of the Brigade of Midshipmen, and led the establishment of the present-day Brigade Honor Concept.
Upon receiving his Naval Aviator Wings in 1952, he was deployed twice to the Middle East. VADM Lawrence became the first Naval Aviator to fly twice the speed of sound in a Navy airplane, was among the final 32 candidates for the Project Mercury astronaut program, and was called the "ablest flyer, all things considered, that Pax River (Naval Air Test Center, Patuxent River, MD) ever produced."
While Commanding Officer of Fighter Squadron 143, he was shot down over North Vietnam in June 1967 and held as a Prisoner of War until March 1973. He was awarded the Silver Star for his selfless courage and the Distinguished Service Medal, the country's third highest military award, for his inspirational leadership of fellow POWs while under constant pressure and mistreatment from his captors. During his imprisonment in North Vietnam, VADM Lawrence composed a poem entitled "Oh Tennessee, My Tennessee" which was designated by the state legislature as the official poem of the State of Tennessee.
VADM Lawrence's military decorations include: Distinguished Service Medal (4 awards), Silver Star (3 awards), Legion of Merit, Distinguished Flying Cross, Bronze Star with Combat V, Purple Heart (2 awards), Air Medal (3 awards), Joint Service Commendation Medal, and Navy Commendation with Combat V (2 awards).
Among his many honors, the Nashville Chapter of the National Football Foundation and College Hall of Fame established the William P. Lawrence Award, given annually to the outstanding football scholar-athlete. In 1979, he received the National Football Foundation and College Hall of Fame Gold Medal, the foundation's highest honor. And in 1982, the Naval Academy established the Vice Admiral William P. Lawrence Award, a sword given annually to the most outstanding woman athlete. In 1984, he received both the NCAA Theodore Roosevelt Award (the association's highest honor) and the Liberty Bowl's Distinguished Citizen Award.
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My family first met VADM (Ret) Lawrence when my sister was a junior in high school and considering applying for admission at the Naval Academy. A family friend who had served with him introduced him to my mother and sister, and they met him and his wife Diane on a visit to the Academy in August of 1995. I was in Airborne School at the time, and my mother mentioned this to VADM Lawrence and then asked if he had ever done any parachuting. His reply was simple: "Once...."
The Lawrences were very helpful to my sister as she decided to apply and then went through the application process. One could hardly ask for better role models, and I think their help, and their example, were a big part of the reason Joanna ended up going there. In addition, Joanna also got to meet their daughter Wendy, who is now a Navy Captain and an astronaut - another excellent role model.
When Joanna died a year later, the Lawrences were there to help us. I first met them in the Academy Chapel. VADM Lawrence had suffered a stroke and had some difficulty walking, but he was determined to be with us at that time, just as he was determined to help his fellow POWs in North Vietnam, no matter what the cost.
And that is perhaps what best describes VADM Lawrence's character, at least what I saw of him: He never quit. A lot of men would have felt that serving as a POW for so many years and guiding fellow prisoners through the ordeal while suffering the worst abuses yourself, was enough. Not VADM Lawrence. He continued to serve, and became a much-admired Superintendent of the Naval Academy and a Fleet Commander, passing on what he had learned to younger officers and sailors. When he did retire, he could have said that was enough. But he continued to be involved with helping to mentor and develop our country's leaders. His physical condition slowed him, and now his body has failed completely. But VADM Lawrence's spirit has never wavered. It survived the POW camp, and all the other tribulations that life threw at him, and it lives on still in the hearts of all who served with him, and all those of us who knew and admired him.
He will never be forgotten.
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Oh Tennessee, My Tennessee
by Vice-Admiral William Lawrence
Oh Tennesee, my Tennessee
What love and pride I feel for thee.
You proud ole state, the volunteer,
Your proud traditions I hold dear.
I revere your heroes
Who bravely fought our country's foes.
Renowned statesmen, so wise and strong,
Who served our country well and long.
I thrill at thoughts of mountains grand;
Rolling green hills and fertile farm land;
Earth rich with stone, mineral and ore;
Forests dense and wild flowers galore;
Powerful rivers that bring us light;
Deep lakes with fish and fowl in flight;
Thiving cities and industries;
Fine schools and universities;
Strong folks of pioneer descent,
Simple, honest, and reverent.
Beauty and hospitality
Are the hallmarks of Tennessee.
And o'er the world as I may roam,
No place exceeds my boyhood home.
And oh how much I long to see
My native land, my Tennessee.
Well, my first full day of work on the brigade staff is halfway over. I compiled an order and looked up some stuff on the Army Publishing Directorate website. It was about as professionally fulfilling as, say, brushing my teeth.
I told the Major that I wanted to redefine my role and responsibilities to better use my experience and abilities. He seemed responsive to that, but I'm not getting my hopes up for anything dramatic.
He wants to work me into the Training section of the Operations shop. I responded that I was willing to do that, but would like to have an opportunity to do some training, see some training, and lead some training - not just sit in HQ writing about training. During my time with C-Company 134th Brigade Support Battalion (the people I mobilized with), I realized that I can do a pretty good job of articulating important concepts to soldiers and leaders at all levels. There were a couple of times I was able to give an impromptu class and I think those classes went well. I don't think I'm the world's leading military genius, but I did learn a few things in 7 years of active duty and would like to share that.
The Major indicated that he agreed with my thoughts on that but did not commit to anything specific - which I guess is understandable. We're still trying to sort ourselves out from the mobilization and adjust to this new organization. He wants to feel more comfortable with day-to-day operations before trying anything unusual.
My role after arriving in Iraq is uncertain, and I don't expect to have a better sense of that for several months, until we run a few Command Post Exercises and we see how it goes. I'm disappointed - very disappointed - not to have the Iraqi Army Training mission, but that's neither the first nor, doubtless, the last major disappointment of my military career.
...
I guess there's not much more to write at the moment. This morning, I got tapped to ride with the Brigade Commander in his government issued pickup truck to show him where the pistol range was. I was uniquely qualified for this task, because I had been to a nearby (3-4 miles away) rifle range and therefore I knew the area better than anyone else on the Brigade staff.
After one missed turn, we found the range, but no one was running it. So, we visited some other ranges, talking to the soldiers there. The Colonel was disappointed to find that our NCOs were going to these ranges and acting like "Joes" - they were letting the Training Support Battalion (reservists who are here to assist us in our training) run the show. They were not keeping track of, helping, or checking on their soldiers. Obviously, this is an attitude we must change and quickly!
I actually enjoyed spending those 3-4 hours talking to the Colonel. Among other things, we discussed how hard it is to go from being a company commander to being a "staff weenie." He was sympathetic to my frustrations but told me I could still make a difference; I just need to figure out how. So that helped me feel better. We talked about a number of other subjects and also stopped for awhile to gather fire wood. (The Colonel has a small cabin to live in and it has a fireplace.)
All in all, it was good to finally get to talk to the Colonel directly. For the last 8 months, I've barely spoken a word to him directly, so he seemed like an abstraction.
On the other hand, the more I hear from the guys in Iraq, the more frustrated I get. I keep asking: "Why are we doing things THAT way?!?" ...I still believe that we were right to overthrow the Ba'ath (regardless of whether they had WMD) and that it is essential for us to get the new government on its feet.
...
If this were the "civilian world," I would take my ideas, round up the other young officers with great ideas, and start a rival Army to compete with this one, rake in the profits, have an IPO, and become a billionaire. Unfortunately, we've got what we've got.
I guess there's not much more to write about. Today (3 Oct), I am putting together another exciting, "Fragmentary Order" and trying to figure out when and where Rosh Hashanah services are and how to get there. Tomorrow morning is my unnecessary oral surgery, and I will go directly there to an Urban Operations seminar. That will be fun.
...We got here on Wednesday, arriving by bus from the Gulfport, MS airport. There was still a huge tent city there, set-up by the National Guard but it seemed pretty empty. The damage from Katrina was noticeable - lots of fallen trees and blue tarps used in place of roofs, some buildings completely wrecked, debris everywhere. We did not see the area hit by the storm surge - this was all wind damage. It was pretty much the same story for the entire bus ride.
Once we got to Shelby, the civilian buses dropped us off in a gravel parking lot. The S-3 of the 134th Brigade Support Battalion was there and she told everyone from HHC 1st Brigade to fall out and talk to this guy, LT Martin. There were 4 of us, and we followed her instructions. So Lt Martin tell us, "wait here and I'll send a van to get you." Then he leaves. Fifteen minutes later, a van pulls up with some guys from the staff and one of them says, "get on and we'll take you to where the HHC is." We do so, but when we get there the NCOs in the office are surprised to see us and tell us we are not supposed to be there. After much difficulty, we manage to call LT Martin, who tells us that we got on the wrong van. He sends the "right" van, which takes us back to where we started. We wait there to link up with the next group coming in and ride with them to the Forward Operating Base (FOB) where we've been living ever since.
...There's not much else to tell. The weather stinks - humidity over 90% all the time, so I am constantly wet. Nothing dries out here, no matter what you do. Iraq will be hotter, but at least I won't be wet. In another couple of days we will surely start seeing some mold and fungus problems.
Friends and family,
Once again, I apologize for the necessity of sending out a mass email. As most of you know, in a couple of days I will be returning to active duty, mobilizing with the 1st Brigade Combat Team, 34th Infantry Division, of the Minnesota National Guard. We will be going to a mobilization station in the US for approximately 5 months of training before we go overseas in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom.
Most of you know that I had been trying for some time to deploy to Iraq or Afghanistan. We've known that the brigade would be deploying since about March of this year. The date has changed more times than I can count. That's just the way it goes sometimes.
I will be on the brigade staff for this deployment. Although my precise role is not exactly top-secret, I won't send it out by email for a number of reasons. What's most important to me is that I won't be stuck in the Brigade TOC (Tactical Operations Center) writing orders for 12 straight months! I would go nuts if that were the case.
The expected length of the mobilization is about 18-19 months, which includes 5-6 months of training and about a year in Iraq, plus a little time after we return to turn in equipment, outprocess, and do a few other things. As many of those who have been deployed to Iraq know, one year "in country" can turn out to be a bit longer. That's just the nature of war - our enemies don't usually agree to go along with our schedules.
My plan is to return to school in the fall of 2007 and complete my MBA in the spring of 2008. of course, that's a long time from now and a lot might change.
In the meantime, I expect to have some degree of internet access, but probably not enough to stay in touch with people to the degree that I usually do. Therefore, Kelly has set up a website at http://www.thesimers.com/blogs/, where I will be posting updates. It's impersonal, but I'm afraid it will be the best I can do. Once I properly register it so that the folks in intelligence can make sure I'm not giving out classified information, I will post there as often as practical. Don't expect a lot of specifics, though.
In the meantime, I wish you all the best during the time that I will have poor communications, and look forward to catching up when I return. If you are interested in sending care packages, Kelly will post my snail-mail address - but let me say this: I probably will not be desperately in need of anything while I am mobilized. Leave the care packages to immediate relatives; it would mean more to me if you took that time and/or money and gave it to the Red Cross or otherwise spent it making your community a better place. Of course, if you're one of those still serving our country on active duty, you're covered. ;)
I will accept well-wishes. I will not accept sympathy. I'm glad to be going and participating in this war, and fifteen years from now when my kid(s) ask what I did in the war on terror, I'll be able to say that I was part of it - not one of those cheering or booing from the sidelines (see George C. Scott in "Patton" for a more colorful speech on that subject).
