Well, I am not all the way back yet... but, I am going back to Iraq for 8 fun-filled months...
A month ago, while in Thailand just after Thanksgiving (gallery.mac.com/dfaix for pics) I received an e-mail that said: we have a request for a Preventive Medicine doctor to go to Iraq, but don't worry, you aren't going to go
Three weeks ago I received a phone call that said: orders have come out for the PMO to go to Iraq, and your name is on them; but, don't worry because it is a mistake and you won't be going
One week ago I was told: we are still trying to change the name, but you might want to get ready just in case
Last night I was told: pack your stuff, you are going to Iraq
so, I am on my way...
If I wasn't such an optimist I might be bitter about "getting" to go to Iraq again wile others haven't gone yet... but, the Navy has often (usually!) sent me where I didn't want to go, and it has always turned out to be a great experience. I just hope the trend continues!
There will be some benefits to this deployment:
* I will get to run a lot--last time in Iraq I was in the best running shape of my life--maybe a PR marathon IS in my future
* I get to write this blog again--I have been missing it (although since I spend most of what used to be my free time with Izzy, it seems a fair trade off that I don't blog anymore!)
* Iraq is a wonderful weight-loss program--in anticipation I did nothing but indulge my every gastronomic desire during the last few weeks (Peg is too good of a cook!)
Friday, January 04, 2008
Thursday, December 15, 2005
Things that take a bit of getting used to…
Not having to get dressed to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. The first night back I woke up around 3am to go to the bathroom—I was pretty groggy after not having slept for 28 hours and was having some difficulty in the dark, fumbling about trying to put my shirt on. Peg asks, “What are you doing?” I answer, “I am going to the bathroom.”
“You are home now—you don’t have to get dressed to go to the bathroom!”
“Oh, right….” And I stumbled off into the darkness. But, I haven’t made that mistake again!
No ID card necessary to go for a run. When I was getting ready to go for my first run from home I started to run upstairs and get my ID to carry with me. Not necessary anymore—feels great to run without an ID. Funny thing is, I often forgot to take my ID with me to go for a run in Iraq… oops!
Water in the shower is OK to drink—don’t need to spit out the water while showering. The first week’s worth of showers back home I am doing a lot of spitting—but I don’t need to anymore! And, now I can brush my teeth with tap water!!! How convenient!
In Iraq, every time I went to have a can of Coke (diet, naturally), I had to wipe the dirt and dust off of it; or, if it had been sitting in water and ice I had to wipe that off of it. It takes a bit of getting used to; not having to wipe off my can of coke prior to drinking—not needed anymore!
“You are home now—you don’t have to get dressed to go to the bathroom!”
“Oh, right….” And I stumbled off into the darkness. But, I haven’t made that mistake again!
No ID card necessary to go for a run. When I was getting ready to go for my first run from home I started to run upstairs and get my ID to carry with me. Not necessary anymore—feels great to run without an ID. Funny thing is, I often forgot to take my ID with me to go for a run in Iraq… oops!
Water in the shower is OK to drink—don’t need to spit out the water while showering. The first week’s worth of showers back home I am doing a lot of spitting—but I don’t need to anymore! And, now I can brush my teeth with tap water!!! How convenient!
In Iraq, every time I went to have a can of Coke (diet, naturally), I had to wipe the dirt and dust off of it; or, if it had been sitting in water and ice I had to wipe that off of it. It takes a bit of getting used to; not having to wipe off my can of coke prior to drinking—not needed anymore!
Saturday, December 10, 2005
The Trip Home….
The trip home was high drama. It is interesting that you can know you are going home, but have no idea when you are actually going to fly—government transportation is an interesting beast. Recall that when we deployed out of San Diego we flew on Southwest airlines… Well, we were scheduled to fly on military aircraft from Al Asad to Kuwait to Bahrain and then switch to commercial flights… But, I am getting ahead of myself… “Scheduled” is too strong of a word. We planned on flying those routes with the military, but as we are a small team we don’t quite merit a reservation, so we were going to have to fly “space available” to Kuwait—we had some kind of semi-reservation to fly from there to Bahrain and, of course, the commercial tickets from then on were no problem—as long as we made it to Bahrain in time flying “space-A”.
We had the Change of Command/Trasnfer of Authority ceremony (see last post) and then had a flight that was scheduled for later that evening—what luck—if we could get on the flight. Turns out, that we did get on the flight—things were going swimmingly! When we landed in Kuwait, the landscape was eerie, odd and mostly, foggy—some of the other folks on the plane with us were bummed because they were supposed to be catching another flight to Qatar but no flights were coming in our out of Kuwait after ours because of the thick fog… So, we hop on this bus that takes us over to the passenger waiting area and they herd us (literally) into this nasty old tent with a bunch of cots in it and we are told that no one is going anywhere until at least 0830 the next morning—arrrgh! We had had dreams of good food and maybe even beer—but, instead we got a cot, no blanket and an MRE—pura vida….
Turns out, after wandering around the next morning, that there was a nice chow hall only a 5 or ten minute walk away, but we didn’t know it—and no one had told us. We found this out after speaking with the good folks at the air terminal who told us that our flight was scheduled to arrive at 1830 that night. So, we were able to go to the chow hall and have a nice breakfast, and then a nice lunch and then a nice afternoon snack.—and that was our undoing…
The showtime for our 1830 flight was 1530—no problem. We were all there (12 of us on the team) and checked in and waiting around. Around 1630 we check with the staff and they tell us that we are on schedule and that it would be fine to go to the chow hall—just be back in the terminal by 1730. And this chow hall is worth the walk—maybe not today, but that day it was…
About 9 or ten of us go over to eat. After about half an hour two people want to go over to the coffee shop and say that they will meet us back over at the terminal at 1730. We start to head back to the terminal at 1710—timing is everything! About half way back HMC (she had stayed at the terminal) comes running up to us saying that the plane is about to take off and that the bus is waiting in the parking lot to take us out to the plane—MOVE!!!
So, we start moving. But then we find out that the two guys that left early are NOT already back at the terminal or ahead of us—they are somewhere behind us—ooops. So, I run back over to the coffee shop, and the gym, and the exchange, and the cafeteria, and every other place I could think of… No luck, no sight of them…
I run back to the terminal (in boots and utilities—not the best way to run)…the bus with the rest of my team is already gone—it is 1725… I get the manager to grab a bus and driver and take me out to the plane—about a 6-minute ride. Interestingly, when we get there the bus with my team on it is sitting on the runway and has yet to disgorge its passengers. This is because the plane is already full of space A passengers (we had a reservation for this portion of the trip). Much talk back and forth on the radio—the passengers that are on this plane are to be taken off and we are to get on—no sign of our two missing team members—arrghh!?!?!?
After about ten minutes we get on the plane with our stuff. We convince to plane to wait for our guys and they do so… But, by 1810 the4 guys still hadn’t shown up!??! Weird. And we have to take off or get off. I figure that it is easier for two guys to fly to Bahrain space A than for twelve—so, we take off…
Eventually, the two lost souls made it to Bahrain, but it was a few hours AFTER we flew out on the rest of our journey. But, they made it home (one on time and the other just 24 hours behind us) eventually. According to their side of the story they were at the terminal at 1730, but were told that our plane had already taken off…imagine their surprise!!! Luckily, they were resourceful and able to fly from Kuwait to Qatar to Bahrain to home…
Once we got to Bahrain, even though we were missing two team members, we made our way to the hotel bar and made up for the lack of beer in Kuwait (and drank one for the missing guys that had to spend the night in the tent again, but without any of their gear because it had got on the plane with us!). There was a bad band in the bar, but that didn’t stop us from dancing and having a good time. It was only when we got on the plane to Amsterdam the next evening and the stewardess says to our microbiologist “You must be tired for all that dancing last night!” that I realized how good of a time we had!!! This was followed by her pointing us out to several other flight attendants who all gave us knowing smiles—I am not sure what they knew…but there it was
So, that is the story of our trip home, complete with lost team members and a lasting impression on our flight crew before we ever got on the plane!!!
We had the Change of Command/Trasnfer of Authority ceremony (see last post) and then had a flight that was scheduled for later that evening—what luck—if we could get on the flight. Turns out, that we did get on the flight—things were going swimmingly! When we landed in Kuwait, the landscape was eerie, odd and mostly, foggy—some of the other folks on the plane with us were bummed because they were supposed to be catching another flight to Qatar but no flights were coming in our out of Kuwait after ours because of the thick fog… So, we hop on this bus that takes us over to the passenger waiting area and they herd us (literally) into this nasty old tent with a bunch of cots in it and we are told that no one is going anywhere until at least 0830 the next morning—arrrgh! We had had dreams of good food and maybe even beer—but, instead we got a cot, no blanket and an MRE—pura vida….
Turns out, after wandering around the next morning, that there was a nice chow hall only a 5 or ten minute walk away, but we didn’t know it—and no one had told us. We found this out after speaking with the good folks at the air terminal who told us that our flight was scheduled to arrive at 1830 that night. So, we were able to go to the chow hall and have a nice breakfast, and then a nice lunch and then a nice afternoon snack.—and that was our undoing…
The showtime for our 1830 flight was 1530—no problem. We were all there (12 of us on the team) and checked in and waiting around. Around 1630 we check with the staff and they tell us that we are on schedule and that it would be fine to go to the chow hall—just be back in the terminal by 1730. And this chow hall is worth the walk—maybe not today, but that day it was…
About 9 or ten of us go over to eat. After about half an hour two people want to go over to the coffee shop and say that they will meet us back over at the terminal at 1730. We start to head back to the terminal at 1710—timing is everything! About half way back HMC (she had stayed at the terminal) comes running up to us saying that the plane is about to take off and that the bus is waiting in the parking lot to take us out to the plane—MOVE!!!
So, we start moving. But then we find out that the two guys that left early are NOT already back at the terminal or ahead of us—they are somewhere behind us—ooops. So, I run back over to the coffee shop, and the gym, and the exchange, and the cafeteria, and every other place I could think of… No luck, no sight of them…
I run back to the terminal (in boots and utilities—not the best way to run)…the bus with the rest of my team is already gone—it is 1725… I get the manager to grab a bus and driver and take me out to the plane—about a 6-minute ride. Interestingly, when we get there the bus with my team on it is sitting on the runway and has yet to disgorge its passengers. This is because the plane is already full of space A passengers (we had a reservation for this portion of the trip). Much talk back and forth on the radio—the passengers that are on this plane are to be taken off and we are to get on—no sign of our two missing team members—arrghh!?!?!?
After about ten minutes we get on the plane with our stuff. We convince to plane to wait for our guys and they do so… But, by 1810 the4 guys still hadn’t shown up!??! Weird. And we have to take off or get off. I figure that it is easier for two guys to fly to Bahrain space A than for twelve—so, we take off…
Eventually, the two lost souls made it to Bahrain, but it was a few hours AFTER we flew out on the rest of our journey. But, they made it home (one on time and the other just 24 hours behind us) eventually. According to their side of the story they were at the terminal at 1730, but were told that our plane had already taken off…imagine their surprise!!! Luckily, they were resourceful and able to fly from Kuwait to Qatar to Bahrain to home…
Once we got to Bahrain, even though we were missing two team members, we made our way to the hotel bar and made up for the lack of beer in Kuwait (and drank one for the missing guys that had to spend the night in the tent again, but without any of their gear because it had got on the plane with us!). There was a bad band in the bar, but that didn’t stop us from dancing and having a good time. It was only when we got on the plane to Amsterdam the next evening and the stewardess says to our microbiologist “You must be tired for all that dancing last night!” that I realized how good of a time we had!!! This was followed by her pointing us out to several other flight attendants who all gave us knowing smiles—I am not sure what they knew…but there it was
So, that is the story of our trip home, complete with lost team members and a lasting impression on our flight crew before we ever got on the plane!!!
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Transfer of Authority
Here is a picture of us and the wonderful Army team that relieved us--our new BESTEST friends!!!
This is the TOA (transfer of authority) day picture right after we ahnded over the mission--time to go home--more later more!!!
Friday, December 02, 2005
First Thing
“What is the first thing you are going to eat when you get back?”
“What is the first thing you are going to do when you get back?”
“What do you miss the most?”
“What is the first thing…?”
These are the questions that one hears constantly while one is deployed, especially if one eavesdrops just a little… People talk about this for hours on end day after day… Answers vary quite a bit… A sampling of things I have heard include (in no particular order):
Going fishing, watching TV, golfing, eating good food, doing nothing, drinking a cold beer, hanging out with friends and family, and a few other things that I won’t put in this PG-rated blog…
As far as eating—that is the major topic of discussion—what to eat when one first gets back—burritos (near the top of my list!), pizza, a good steak, fresh fish, sushi, vegetables of any sort—these are the common answers…
So, the answers to the query, “What do you miss the most?” are not a surprise: good food (see a pattern here?) and those activities that are the answer to “What’s the fist thing you’re going to do when you get back?”
When I was stuck in Balad—read that post here—we had a chance to watch a few movies. One of them was Crash. In the beginning of that movie one of the main characters—immediately after being rear-ended in an automobile—says that in Los Angeles people don’t touch each other and they miss the human contact, so they crash into one another to make up for the lack physical closeness… I think that being in the US military in Iraq is very much like living in LA—no human contact… Now, there are good reasons why we don’t go around hugging each other all day every day—that would be a whole new Marine Corps!! But, that is what I miss most, the closeness of family and friends.
So, when I get back, the first thing I will do (and, I imagine, everyone else that can) is to hug my family and hold on tight! I don’t even care what we eat, although a Santana’s burrito wouldn’t be a bad thing…
“What is the first thing you are going to do when you get back?”
“What do you miss the most?”
“What is the first thing…?”
These are the questions that one hears constantly while one is deployed, especially if one eavesdrops just a little… People talk about this for hours on end day after day… Answers vary quite a bit… A sampling of things I have heard include (in no particular order):
Going fishing, watching TV, golfing, eating good food, doing nothing, drinking a cold beer, hanging out with friends and family, and a few other things that I won’t put in this PG-rated blog…
As far as eating—that is the major topic of discussion—what to eat when one first gets back—burritos (near the top of my list!), pizza, a good steak, fresh fish, sushi, vegetables of any sort—these are the common answers…
So, the answers to the query, “What do you miss the most?” are not a surprise: good food (see a pattern here?) and those activities that are the answer to “What’s the fist thing you’re going to do when you get back?”
When I was stuck in Balad—read that post here—we had a chance to watch a few movies. One of them was Crash. In the beginning of that movie one of the main characters—immediately after being rear-ended in an automobile—says that in Los Angeles people don’t touch each other and they miss the human contact, so they crash into one another to make up for the lack physical closeness… I think that being in the US military in Iraq is very much like living in LA—no human contact… Now, there are good reasons why we don’t go around hugging each other all day every day—that would be a whole new Marine Corps!! But, that is what I miss most, the closeness of family and friends.
So, when I get back, the first thing I will do (and, I imagine, everyone else that can) is to hug my family and hold on tight! I don’t even care what we eat, although a Santana’s burrito wouldn’t be a bad thing…
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