After leaving Ft. Dix and heading to Kuwait, I couldn’t help but have a million thoughts running through my mind.  Since this was my first time ever outside of the U.S., I was amazed at every stop we made!

One thing I noticed so vividly was the flight of birds, no matter the country. In Iceland and Germany, there were temperatures in the teens at least and snow visibly on the ground, but birds were still flying high.

Now you tell me, where do birds think they are?

Do they have some sort of map that says, “this is the southern most part of Iceland” or this is the U.S.?  Do they migrate closer to the equator during winter months or are they loyal to their country? Do they sing songs with German accents versus a southern tune? Just wondering…

At the same time, I saw a vehicle I had never had use for.  Thank you mister snow mobile! Before we pulled into our terminal in Leipzig, there were workers clearing the way for a safe arrival amidst inches of snow. I’ve always wanted to play in the snow & have a “White Christmas.”  So there he was, not John Deere but a new breed I’ve never seen before.  I call him, “Mr. Snow Mobile!”

There were toilets that flushed the wrong way, jack rabbits that hopped long, high, and super fast, and a German breakfast we shared complete with brats and hot mustard. It all made me think, “this must be what Wyoming is like…”

To top it all off,  and to finish our trip, we arrived in Kuwait just hours after I saw for the first time a glowing red sunset.  It capped off the trip. I encountered a U.S. sunset when we left Ft. Dix, the darkness of an Icelandic sky, the German sunrise, and then a sunset that only God could have colored.

So, I guess I’ll never have to ask again, “which way the sun sets…”

One of my best friends asked me if anything was the same here as in the states. If the books, calendars, and tv stations were similar, or the food, homes, or clothes were the same.

The books here are read from right-to-left instead of our usual left-to-right. The calendars are much the same except for the numbers I can’t read. The tv stations we get are all AFN, so theeeeerrrreee great! Then the food, homes, and clothes vary  by location.

Two things I can say has proven to always be the same in every place we’ve gone: the cereal and always Coca-Cola.

Every morning for breakfast, I grab a milk that has an outer appearance, one side English & one side Arabic. Then I grab a familiar cereal and get a touch of home before I start my day.

For lunch, I usually have a water with no label at all on it and sometimes I have the boxed juice that seems to always be 100% juice. Sometimes I grab a new soda to try out, but when I want to feel like home, I grab that red can and taste a somewhat familiar cola.

Now, it tastes more like a diet for us but its still a Coke. Always….

When I was growing up, I lived next to a train route that made me immune to the sounds of almost everything while I sleep… Well everything except helicopters.

If you’ve ever seen Forrest Gump and the scene where he and Bubba arrive in Vietnam, that’s just what I always feel like when I get back to my room here in Baghdad. It’s almost like I know someone will start playing “Fortunate Son” by Creedance Clearwater Revival just to relive the moment.

It makes me feel like I’m, ya know, “fighting,” until of course it’s time to go to sleep. Then I’m mad and up all night trying to listen to my prayers, my Ipod and the sheep that I try and count on  a regular basis.  

DOESN’T WORK!!!

Didn’t really sleep last night thanks to Rambo and company but I’ll be grabbing some chai tea and cream before bed tonight.. Wish me luck!!

Since I arrived in Iraq a lot has happened. We’re all settling into our respective duties. I have been tasked with credentialing all media who come through the Combined Press Information Center. Though I’m disappointed that I’m not doing a job more suitable to my MOS area of expertise, it’s interesting, all the different types of media I interact with on a daily basis. I’ve had both good and bad experiences with them so far and I’m sure, like with any “customer service” position, that won’t change.

Today I was given another separate job while I’m out here — back-up IMO. Though I’m flattered that I was chosen for this duty, it does concern me a bit just due to my rank and spot on the “food chain” around this place. My history with computers is a long one, however, I’m nervous to “play” around with the computers here, understandably so I hope.

On a different note, I’m determined to get promoted to at least Specialist while I’m out here. I already have plans in motion to get me there. Got a nice running course picked out, daily visits to the gym, and a good diet going, so things should be looking up very soon!

I really wanted to post some photos/art/videos for everyone to view but the videos are large files and SGM Falardeau, I believe, has to do the photos unless I’m able to upload them to a host site and direct link them, but with the speed of the internet out here, that would take forever so I’ll leave it up to him, LOL.

Now, even though my free time is limited, I’ve been feeling the old artistic urge lately to create.. stuff. So hopefully I’ll have a lot a nifty things to show off during my year here!

(MODERATOR’S NOTE:  Look for lots of photos from PFC Bernat beginning in the next week or so.)

The other day, I shared with some of my sorority sisters (Epsilon Sigma Alpha International) the fact that I never got the chance to finish college. I attended Stillman College in Tuscaloosa, AL for 3 years as a ROTC cadet before I enlisted and went off to basic training.

When I graduated basic and arrived at AIT at Ft. Gordon, Augusta, GA, I was able to travel back to Stillman to see my best friend Lionel graduate with honors after only 3 years as a student. It of course was a bittersweet moment. Of course I was proud, but I was losing my best friend to his new-found adulthood, whereas I had become a soldier and adult of a different breed;  he had accomplished the task we had both sought after while my dream lies deferred.

I never thought I’d know how it feels to not complete a task, especially as great as earning a college degree but, I do. In short, you feel failure.

There are many soldiers that share my defeat.

Jen, my ESA sorority sister from California, and an active participant in our “Hope for Heroes” program for our troops, wrote words of encouragement that made all the sense in the world. The only way I can describe it is, “Yes I Can!”

Here’s what she said:

“Good news is that college is always waiting for us to finish no matter what
our age is when we do.

What college teaches us is to enhance the knowledge we already know, tweak it into a field of interest so that we may better the lives of others in
those fields that may otherwise never have known the information existed in the first place. And after you have put in hundreds if not thousands of
hours of hard reading, writing,sitting, standing, and paying - they invite
you to attend your graduation to receive a piece of paper to tell you that
you have the right to earn a few hundred dollars more then if you had not
received further education… and then you are not even really guaranteed a
job in that field because either the information you have been studying so
hard and for so long is now obsolete, or the field is.  In this economy it
could be both.

What you are doing right now is just as, if not more, important than what
college can teach you, and I am a big fan of college (graduated in Irvine,
CA, May 2007 - major: ECE, minor: math). You are learning a different sort of life experiences, team support, and security for all mankind regardless of
their reasonings.  You are assisting in  changing the views of others about
themselves and about the people around them, erasing the negative banter
that they were taught for years of who others are and that everyone who does not believe and/or think in the same manner that they do is wrong or evil. You are helping to teach compassion and understanding, to believe in oneself and know that it is not a weakness to need the support of others… That sometimes it does take a village to raise a child, but not always, sometimes it just takes a kind heart and a deep love for human kindness to raise a child up. And since we are all children of one God or another, it is only fitting that we should all want to play together and get along regardless of the language barriers we have all grown up with for centuries. Especially
when our families from all over the world came to the America’s seeking a
different lifestyle then the one they had in the other countries from which
they came, and for one reason or another were closed off from these family
roots, and thus forth came the myth or belief that all Americans are evil
people.  Yet, by having men and women like yourself in these countries
helping to secure their children’s lively-hoods to form a more unified
government where “everyone” is considered important and needed, you are in fact helping every families history to be healed, and mankind to be united
in a form of freedoms that they would otherwise never have, and that is
“peace.”

In away you are replaying out a part of American history in other countries.
You are fulfilling a position that many great men and women from our past
had set forth to change during the 1950’s, 60’s, and 70’s - that being
equality of all mankind regardless of age and gender, to pursue what ever
makes them happy without causing prejudice against his/her fellow mankind.

People hate Americans because of their blindness to the truth, and their
fear of change. Americans give everything they have, right or wrong, they confront and challenge change, and they protect everything change stands for - FREEDOM. Other countries do not think/feel that freedom is worth the death of our loved ones, yet it is you men and women (centuries before / after) that prove the others wrong time and time again. Because you go in, you see, you educate the present peoples, you assist with their needs, and sometimes you die for their changes too. They ask us why we call this freedom, and we explain because you choose this way of life, you are not forced into signing up and training for this line of work, you chose to face these challenges and give back to so many and receive so little from the few who know, understand, and support you in your calling, because you are not forced into signing up for the people you share land with.”

See you soon college degree!!!

Thanks Jen… Jonquil Love

Unlike my experiences in Kuwait (seeking the elusive Kuwaitis), I get to meet Iraqi people every day. In fact, all of our soldiers do — and a pretty good cross-section of their society at that.

In the morning as I drive to work , I can see Iraqis hard at work doing construction to rebuild their own national infrastructure here within the International Zone, as well as projects to support the U.S. military presence.  My experience has been that most of these laborers work pretty hard in jobs that most Americans would probably not put at the top of their list; I can only imagine what it would be like to do these strenuous jobs in summer when the temperatures are 130 degrees in the shade.

I also see Iraqis either zooming by in their military and non-military vehicles (they drive as “offensively” as I do), or driving very slowly on the sidelines trying to avoid the rest of us.  They are also standing guard at the entrances to Iraqi military and other strategic locations.  Today, as SFC Poulten and I were walking around the compound where we work, a group of younger Iraqi enlisted soldiers waved for us to come over and meet them.  We spent a few minutes “talking” — a combination of us practicing our very limited Iraqi Arabic skills and them practicing their very limited English skills, and both of us using hand gestures that we hoped had universal meaning.  We took a group picture with them (they had a camera, your Public Affairs soldiers did not).

Once I am inside my office building, I am surrounded by Iraqis — including janitorial staff, translators, members of Iraq’s fledgling media, senior members of the Iraqi civilian goverment and military, and the personal security details (i.e., big guys with guns) for those officials who unfortunately are sometimes targeted by other Iraqis (or maybe people from other countries) who don’t want them to succeed in rebuilding this nation. 

When I get a break at lunch or after I get back to Camp Prosperity at the end of the day, I meet merchants selling all kinds of things (some of my family and friends will be receiving these things for Christmas next year).   When I am out there shopping, I can tell this part of the world was a crossroads of trade routes:  these folks are very experienced in the art of the bargain.  For instance, I’ve learned that the first price I am told for an item is only a starting point.  In some ways, it seems that the back and forth negotiating is a way to get to know each other — the same way that Americans sometimes gossip back and forth.  My pocketbook says I need to work on this skill.

There are not many Iraqi children in the International Zone — at least not as far as I have seen.  I suppose most are kept inside by parents that have seen a lot of bad things happen to other children (or maybe even their own).  Occasionally, I will see one of two teenagers on streets where soldiers traverse.  They are peddling old (and now worthless) Saddam Hussein dinars or bootleg DVDs.  I am glad that they are making money this way rather than getting it from people paying them to take their own life in an attack on us.  Note to self — buy more bootleg DVDs tomorrow (sorry Hollywood).

Despite all the Iraqis I meet every day, I still somehow feel set apart.  Every day I hear our soldiers warning about accidently leaving our protective cocoon.  I’m glad they are aware of the limits of our protection, but I am concerned they might see everyone outside these limits as a potential enemy.  Hopefully sometime before the end of our year in Iraq, I’d like to be able to venture outside the walls of the International Zone that keep up from meeting more of this country’s people…and keeps us from meeting them. 

As one of our Army Reserve officer’s said last year in a television interview, “One of the good things that will come from all of this is that lots of Americans will get the chance to meet lots of Iraqis — and they will become friends.”

So it has been one crazy day after another. Most of my days are longer than 10 hours and we haven’t had a day off yet. Those are still in planning, which I can’t wait for. The biggest bane of my existence is the title of “Information Management Officer”, or IMO. That gives me about 90% of my workload so far and has been running me ragged. I’ve taken computers apart, worked on countless network problems, taken computers to get re-imaged (meaning wiped clean of all data and re-loaded with a basic data set needed for each computer), and moved so many computers around to try and meet the needs of my unit. Not to mention that I feel like I’m an Outlook pro by default because of having to deal with numerous issues with that. To compound it all, the network is slower than dial-up somedays, which means a good amount of sitting around waiting for things to load.

It has by no means been all bad though. One of the highlights of my day is when I get to go out and talk with the Peruvians and practice and learn more Spanish. I’ve gotten to be pretty good. I’m able to hold a fairly normal conversation for a good 15 minutes or so. I have a feeling by the time this deployment ends, I will be fluent. Another highlight is that I get to feed the fish every morning and afternoon. They always enjoy that. Whenever I walk up to the fish tank, they always start swimming towards the top and go into a frenzy. It’s fun to watch them go at it when the food falls into the tank. I don’t think I’ve ever seen goldfish swim that vivaciously.  I also look forward to the 2 hours of time I get before everybody else comes in. I come in at 6 and everybody else comes in at 8, so I spend that two hours catching up on my e-mails that I get every day and do some other menial tasks while nobody bothers me about a tech issue they have. Another highlight of my day is when I’m here for that 2 hours before everybody else, I turn on the TV so I can listen to AFN play music. It may not be the best music, but it’s awesome to just sit in my chair and listen while I do my work. I also get to put in requests so I can hear the songs I want, which is always a good time, especially when they say my name over the radio.

So it’s not all bad. There is most definitely some good. When my schedule slows down, I will figure out time for PT, reading and smoking my pipe, and playing table tennis, which is different from ping pong… but that’s a-whole-nother issue/blog altogether. I’m excited about finding a rhythm and working off that to schedule fun times for myself and my troops. But until then, that’s the way the cookie crumbles…

(MODERATOR’S NOTE:  A previous blog entry supports 2LT Larrew’s statement that being a unit IMO is a very demanding — and often thankless – job.)

Looking back on my days spent in grammar school, I knew at least once a year I’d hear famous tales of  Harriet Tubman and the Underground Railroad, Sojouner Truth and her “Ain’t I a Woman” speech, and Fredrick Douglas and his trailblazing visions of a better life for the negro.

Harriet Tubman

In high school, I recited poems by Langston Hughes and learned to play groundbreaking compostions by Duke Ellington and the legends of Harlem. Then in college, I was able to study and debate historic civil rights cases heard by the Supreme Court like Brown v. Board of Education (1954) - the landmark decision that allowed the desegregation of schools, and Gideon v. Wainwright (1963) - which gave the right for any accused individual to have the right to an attorney.

Now, in my adult life, I am black history.  I didn’t get to walk across the Edmund Pettis bridge in Selma, AL, nor did I walk with Louis Farrakhan at the “Million Man March.”  I didn’t get to shake Ernest Green’s hand after he had become the first black graduate of Central High in Little Rock, AR,  and I didn’t even get to call Henry T. Sampson and thank him for inventing the gamma-eletric cell which lead to the succesful creation of the cell phone.

However, it overjoys me to know that this year, my two nieces in Mississippi will know black history for themselves.  No matter the age, all people from all races and nationalities abroad can see the historic achievements made by former Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice and New York Governor David Paterson.

Not only will they have the struggles of Dr. Martin Luther King and Malcolm X to talk about, but the door has been opened to discover Shirley Chisolm, the first woman and first black person  to ever seek the Office of President on a major party ticket, and now our President Barack H. Obama, need I say more… but hey, that’s just the political side of things.

To our soldiers, we share in the trials and triumphs of  the  Tuskegee Airmen, sailor Dorie Miller,  and former Secretary of State and Army four-star General Colin Powell, just to name a few forerunners. We then operate daily knowing that in years to come, we’ll join the list and share our battle with generations ahead.

No matter the age, gender, or even race, this Black History Month will be the base for new arrivals in the pride of a culture once relinquished.

 * What will you do this Black History Month?

* What can we do as soldiers in Iraq to commemorate Black History Month?

The sun sets over crossed swords in Baghdad (photo by SPC Lisa Bates).

As most of you know, I’m currently assigned to the Combined Press Information Center in Baghdad. I live (and will soon work) at Camp Prosperity — one of the places the U.S. military is located here. It’s an interesting camp with lots of trees and open space, large man-made pools, a bustling shopping area with restaurants and stores with a variety of goods, and, best of all, a former palace of Saddam Hussein. The palace was damaged in March 2003, but a large part of it is now occupied by U.S. military (despite the “air conditioning” that we added). Overall, the camp is a nice place to be, if you find yourself in a combat zone.

A dust storm settles over Baghad. The dome of the palace can be seen in the distance (photo by SPC Lisa Bates).

The “mayor” of Camp Prosperity is MAJ Michael Bobinis from the New Jersey National Guard. He is a very motivated to get MWR opportunities available for the soldiers he serves. He has already put internet and phone service into the palace for soldiers to stay in touch with their family and friends, and he has plans to repair and clean up the pools to make them available for soldiers to use in the summer (when it is 130 degrees, a dip in the pool is a great relief). However, the best part of his plan to provide a break for soldiers is his current project: with the support of donors, he is building a beautiful first run movie theater in the palace in one of the former ballrooms with doors opening to outside.

View of the palace from the pools (photo by 126th PAOC).

The commander and I had the chance to preview the space with MAJ Bobinis. The theater is already more than half done, and he told us he expects it to be done before Oscars night. The theater will have same kind of plush reclining chairs as in theaters back home, the red velvet rope to guide you in, and an incredible refreshment area built on a huge marble tiled veranda with columns and a palm tree view over Baghdad. This is the same place that Saddam looked over his country — and soon our soldiers will be eating popcorn and drinking soda between movies. MAJ Bobinis has also confirmed that he will be able to play first-run movies here (a few days ago a mortar could be heard from the balcony of his new theater).

It’s obvious that MAJ Bobinis is very dedicated to enriching the lives of soldiers. He also has an equally animated NCO sidekick who is assisting him — MSG Robert Greco, also from the New Jersey National Guard.

I know this is shooting for the moon — but I think this would be a great place to be spotlighted by the Oscars. They did it before — with a military unit announcing one of the technical awards. I think it might be more appropriate for MAJ Bobinis and MSG Greco to announce the best foreign film.

Entrance to Camp Prosperity (photo by 126th PAOC).

Years from now, the rest of the world will be able to visit this palace and the theater. They will see the ceilings and walls have carving and relief work. The theater area has carved wood and a chandelier. There is artwork that shows the Desert Storm area, and only a couple hundred feet from the theater is a huge head of Saddam Hussein that has fallen from the top of the palace (seems very appropriate, doesn’t it?).

So, if you know someone in Hollywood, tell them that Prosperity is waiting, and MAJ Bobinis has not signed a contract with any motion picture company.

If you are the family members and friends of SGTs Emily Anderson, Jeremy Fowler and Kade Miller, thank you! Research has shown that the main reason Army Reserve soldiers leave military service is because their families ask them to leave. Today, these three soldiers raised their hand and swore the oath of reenlistment — a testament to your support.

(From l to r) SGTs Kade Miller, Jeremy Fowler and Emily Anderson receive the oath of reenlistment from their 314th PAOC commander LTC Ignacio Perez (photo by PFC Christine Bernat).

LTC Perez, the unit commander, was the officer administering the oath, and you could see the pride on his face. Any leader is happy to see his or her employees choose to continue to follow.

For doing so, each of these soldiers continues to serve in our Army Reserve. They also reap lots of tangible and intangible benefits, like GI Bill educational money. And, of course, the reenlistment bonus is ALL tax free! If you have been watching the news about current enlistment rates (the Army had recruited more than 115% of their goals last month), choosing to reenlist right now is also a wise decision: the current rumor mill says that the reenlistment bonuses will be decreasing soon.

So, to the three of you, on behalf of an NCO with a limited numbers of years left in his military career, thanks for being the future generation of Army Reserve NCO leadership.

It’s amazing how much technology has changed the way our soldiers can communicate with their loved ones and each other.  When I first joined the Army Reserve back in 1981, the only way I could communicate back home was to find a pay phone or a calling center, and then make sure I had enough change to keep feeding the phone (or God forbid use my credit card and get charged $3 a minute).  During my annual trainings in Korea or Japan, I was largely out of touch with my family, friends and civilian employer for the whole two weeks.

Our soldiers today are connected with all those people through a variety of new technologies (cell phone, VOIP phone, email, videomail, etc), but the old standbys are still here but fading fast. For instance, the local post office accepts mail only two hours a week (but there are places elsewhere in the International Zone that are open daily) and we all know how hard it is to find a payphone these days (especially in a combat zone). I think it would be wise to make sure we keep the old communication channels open for at least a while longer. The past two days here at the CPIC provide support for my position.

On Tuesday, I arrived in the office to find I had received only 15 emails overnight; normally I have about 120. Although I was happy, warning bells went off in my head. Next I tried to access my CPIC Conference Room group calendar to check the activities of the day….and the computer had the audacity to reply that I did not have permission to look at the calendar. Hmmmmph! This was not acceptable. I refuse to be beaten by a bunch of wires and microchips.

I checked with our unit’s Information Management Officer and first line of defense against computer viruses and unplugged CPUs, 2LT Joseph Larrew, to find out what was up. He said he was aware there were some problems, and that he would come and do his magic with my computer. He tried, and for a while it did work to some extent, but it became obvious that this was going to take more than a long IMO to solve. This was a dreaded “network problem.”

For the past two days we have been in the midst of this: getting some emails, but missing most of them; sending emails only to find they have never arrived (not even a letter from the postman telling you that the recipient had refused to accept it); and limited access (if you are lucky) to group calendars. Luckily, I can call people here in Baghdad and tell them I don’t have access to those new-fangled technologies, although when they call me, they cannot leave a voicemail message (sorry, I must have been in the latrine when you called back).

I have to tell you that normally I am a big advocate of the use of technology to increase productivity, create greater accountability, and make the lives of our soldiers better. But, let something like the last 48 hours happen, and I make the Luddites look progressive. Ask anyone I have worked with and they will tell you that the technology withdrawals I go through are worse than DTs. I curse under my breath, pace the floor, and generally let everyone know that technology is a tool of the devil. I vow to never be taken in by that flim-flam man Bill Gates.

Of course, right about that time someone from Information Management directorate comes in, types something into my computer, and two minutes later I am in love with my computer again.

So, if you are someone at the State Department expecting me to update a calendar, please know that there is nothing I would rather do than hit the “send” button on my email and clear that off my list of things to do. If you are friends and family looking for an email, I’ll send you a letter if the email doesn’t become available tomorrow. And, if you are that nice person in Information Management directorate that said he would need some time to research, I promise to keep my mumbled cursing to a minimum if you fix my problems tomorrow.

When we arrived here in Baghdad and met with the leadership of the MNF-I organization, they made one thing clear: press conferences were a top priority. That message was received loud and clear, and echoed by the soldiers of the 126th PAOC, so we obsessed about it for the past 10 days.

Of course the 126th continued to oversee a handful of press conferences during that week and half. They were usually sparsely attended, so it gave us a chance to see how they got the job done without interfering with the needs of the media. The day finally arrived today, however, for the soldiers of the 314th to step out of the nest and flap our press conference wings.

If you have ever seen a press conference on TV — maybe on C-Span or a few seconds of it on evening news — you might think it is pretty easy. You turn on the microphone and let someone talk, right? Well, yes, that is true, but there is an incredible amount of work that goes on behind the scenes starting days before the event. That work is increasingly complicated when you add the fact that we are half a world away from one of our primary audiences, the American public. And, we are separated by language barriers from another primary audience, the Iraqi people.

About an hour before today’s press conference, the press started arriving. At first, it was a trickle. But by the time we were ready to open the doors to the conference room and let them take their seats and set up their cameras, a flood of information-seekers filled our lobby. We had so many, it took three sheets to register them all. Part of the reason for the popularity might have been the hard work of the Public Affairs staff at the Gulf Region Division (GRD) of the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, including Nicole and DeDe. However, I think another reason for the success was due to one our of own staff — a man named Ali who is contractor working on our Iraqi Media Engagement Team. He seemed to know all of the local media on a first name basis as they entered the room.

While Ali was in the lobby shaking hands and chatting up the media, the staff of the local Armed Forces Network was inside the room setting up microphones, connections to the Pentagon Channel, simultaneous translation, lighting and a slide show. The members of the 314th, meanwhile, were greeting the presenters for the day, both from the GRD. The general and civilian employee who traveled to the CPIC took a seat in the “green room” and were hooked up with microphones and received a short brief about how the press conference would proceed.

When the media had finally settled into their seats and were hooked up to earphones (thanks to SPCs Lee and Gardner), LTC Tim Houchei, the commander of the 126th PAOC, took a few minutes to thank all of the Iraqi media he had the pleasure to meet and serve during the year. It was a very touching moment, and I think the local journalists could see that his words were heartfelt. It was a very classy way to leave, and it set the tone for the 314th for the next 10-11 months.

Once he left the dais, the presenters entered the room and took their seats. For the next 45 minutes, they talked about the great work the U.S. Corps of Engineers have done over the past 5 years, working hand in hand with the Government of Iraq, to rebuild this great nation. Behind the scenes, the Public Affairs professionals of the 314th and AFN provided seemless support to deliver that same message here and at home.

As the media left with their press releases, soundbites and smiles, your 314th soldiers wished them farewell in English and Arabic. I think we will have a good year, إن شاء الل

If ever I felt compelled to talk about a subject, it is now. At the dawn of a new era with our Commander-in-Chief, Barack H. Obama, and the nation in which we call home changing for the better, race has been, is, and seems to always be an issue.

The U.S. Army sees green, Air Force sees blue, and with soldiers, sailors, airmen, and marines combined, we glow a purple ray never to be reckoned with. However, being one of many pigmently diverse soldiers in our army, I seem to always stand out amidst the crowd.

Now, maybe it was just Mississippi where black kids and white kids would often choose not to sit at the lunch table blending together. Maybe it was just my church where “missionary baptist” specified the black church from the “southern baptist” congregation. Then again, maybe it was just my ears and eyes that saw a separating line between what is considered the majority versus minority of people in America.

In just a few short months, I’ve had more people come conversing with me about the inauguration of our country’s first “bi-racial” president, expecting a voice with the “black” point-of-view.

My grandmother, who was mulatto (bi-racial, much like President Obama) and my grandfather who was an American Cherokee Indian, came from two totally different worlds but yet were both stereotyped because of the pigment of their skin. Now I stand as a descendant from them to be contrasted with other people of the colored persuasion simply because of an outer similarity.

Now, some say that this will never change… I’ll always be black and white will always be white. Maybe, but the evidence of greatness coming forth when the two combine is among us and has a name: Barack Obama.

Through our president, we see a blend of races and nations, generations to generations and the prophecies and predictions from the past fulfilled. We see women grabbing new found glory in Michelle, children carrying a since of pride in Sasha and Malia, and our men believing once again that they can rise to the occasion no matter the wealth, class, or location they’re from, or even the race they claim.

Yes, it’s true that just a few short years ago, President Obama’s father wouldn’t have even been allowed to eat in some of our restaurants, nor would his mother been able to marry his father in some of our united states. However, in the same years, my mother, as personal as that is, created change by intergrating a white-only college in a small town in Mississippi which is now a university open to all.

Just by looking at these examples, I see change.

I walk the streets every day seeing dark- and light-toned Iraqis alike laughing and talking with the darkest of the Ugandans and the lightest of the Austrians, the reddest of the Peruvians, and the tannest of the Asians, and I watch. I observe the mix of a common people striving for the advancement of one world, one spirit of freedom.

So, just in case you wanted to know my thoughts on our new president because of our similar skin tone, I’ll simply say, “Change has come to America, and the race is already won.”

My mom used to always tell me, “no matter where you are, look at the moon and know it’s the same moon I’ll be watching….” Those words have gotten me through some very emotional periods (i.e.- my first semester in college, of course basic training, and now my first tour of duty.)

I guess the only difference now is that the moon I look at happens to be up the same time the sun is staring at my mom. The 9-hour time difference between me in Iraq and my mom in Mississippi makes it hard for us to ever be on the same am/pm scheme.

When I get to work in the mornings, she’s “supposed to be” in bed asleep. When I get off in the evenings, she’s on her way to work to nurture young minds. Even when I can grab a cell phone to call home before I go to bed, she’s in the middle of her day and most of the time actively occupied by her 6th, 7th, and 8th graders.

So, each night, I look at the sky, watching the same stars I can imagine Aladdin saw on his magic carpet ride and I say goodnight to the Arabian sky and send the moon to meet my mom across the miles….

I see a habit forming here.

This afternoon we assembled all available soldiers of the 314th PAOC again for another happy occasion: the promotion of now SPC Justin Wright. He is part of our Iraqi Media Engagement Team , or IMET, with the responsibility of providing information about the U.S. military to a Pan-Arab audience. As the role of the Government of Iraq (or GoI as we say in “acronym-ese” here at the CPIC) continues to expand every day, his work also increases.

I know SPC Wright’s promotion will not be the last. At least 8 of our soldiers are putting in packets for February promotion boards with the 11th Military Police Brigade here in Iraq and the 81st Regional Support Command back in the United States.

Keeping checking back to see who the next promotees will be.

We’ve been here for more then a week so far. I haven’t really had any problems. There are times when I want to throw a computer out of the window because it’s not working right or I’m logged out and can’t get back in, but that’s everywhere.

I really have nothing to write about. I’m not a blog type of person where I put all of my thoughts and feelings online. I’m too paranoid for that. If (more likely when) I become famous I don’t want some journalist bringing up during some conference or book signing what emotions I felt during my deployment.

The way I look at things, it could be worse. I always try to stay positive and look at the brighter side of things. So far this philosophy has worked for me. I hope I continue to stay this way throughout this deployment. Only time will tell (I know that phrase is cliche, but it works).

Until next time…stay positive.

How appropriate that I wrote about rank yesterday. This morning the 314th PAOC was able to give two of our soldiers a little bit more privilege (and tax-free money in their pockets) when they were promoted — in front of our unit and visiting soldiers from the Army Reserve Affairs Office from FOB Victory. And a few weeks ago, another was promoted.

Our newly promoted soldiers are SGT Kade Miller, whose promotion was effective 5 December 2008 (he’ll get some nice back pay), SPC Brittany Gardner, and PFC James “Craig” Clifton. Pictures from the promotion ceremony today will be posted on this blog entry within a few days…but we didn’t want to wait to share the good news with family, friends…and the world.

SGT Miller has done a great job of keeping our multiple vehicles riding down the severely damaged roads of Baghdad (I think the pothole is the official logo of the city). I don’t think it is a security violation to say that the SUVs, vans and trucks that are in our inventory has seen better days — but he has given them new life. He’s also done a lot of work to support our friends in the 126th PAOC as they head home.

SPC Gardner has also been a great asset since our arrival. She’s a member of our 2nd shift escort drivers, charged with movement of people, meals and a variety of other items around the city in the aforementioned vehicles. She seems to know all the popular places in town — former palaces, tourist sites (can you have tourists in a combat zone?), and dining facilities. Of course, she also knows shortcuts to get back to the tents or CPIC when roads get shut down as Iraqi and U.S. government officials are on their way to important meetings.

And — my apologies for not mentioning this previously– we have a new private first class in the unit as well. The former PV2 James “Craig” Clifton was promoted just before our departure from Fort Dix. PFC Clifton has the honor of serving as our units guidon bearer…a job that literally puts him front and center in every formation. He does it professionally and with great pride — and makes all of us look good.

A big Hooah to all three of them!

Hopefully we will be able to announce more promotions in the near future. Keep checking in for more information.

There’s a saying in the military, and I suppose it applies to lots of organizations, “Rank has it’s privileges.”  In the military, most people take that to mean that soldiers in higher ranks may enjoy certain benefits or luxuries that a junior soldier would not.

Most people who have devoted a large part of their adult life to an endeavor would probably say that such privileges are just part of the deal — it’s an incentive for younger soldiers to stick around.  I can hear the reenlistment advisor now:  “Hey soldier, don’t quit now.  You’ve got 10 years in the Army and you are a staff sergeant.  By the time you reach 16 years, you could be a first sergeant….all that great pay and better housing.  Plus, you’ll be making all the decisions.”

Well, lately I have been thinking about RHIP.  I suppose it all started with the CEOs of the Big Three automakers and their decision last month to fly their personal jets to Washington, DC, to ask Congress to give them billions of dollars for their self-proclaimed failing businesses.  It seemed odd to me and almost all other Americans that they would do that.  Maybe their sense of entitlement — their belief that as a CEO they should be able to have those privileges even as they laid off tens of thousands of workers only days before Christmas — had clouded their judgement.

As Public Affairs practitioners, that’s what we do at night..we sit around thinking about stuff like that (what, you thought we had toga parties?).  Part of the reason is that perception is reality these days.  The public’s reality was that the companies could not need all that money if their CEOs were still flying their personal jets.  In that sense, their staff of advisors had failed them.

So, how does this apply to the 314th?  Well, it applies because members of the military sometimes fall into that same trap that caught those CEOs.  It might seem harmless in the beginning, and sometimes it really is, but sooner or later, it is all too easy to cross a line.

The 314th has already faced this challenge, starting on the first day away from Birmingham.  As we sat in the airport waiting for our flight to Philadelphia, the airline gate agent called me over to the desk.  It seemed that she had seven first class seats to give away, and she wanted me to tell her who should get those seats.  As a frequent flyer on that airline, I had already been “bumped up” to first class.

I’m not going to tell you that I always make the right decisions when it comes to privileges, but I can tell you I did this time.  I asked the gate agent to give the seven seats…and mine as well…to our junior enlisted.

When I went around and asked the young soldiers to give me their boarding passes, they did not know what was going on.  However, when I came back and gave them their first class boarding passes, it was evident.  It was only a two-hour flight, but it was enough to let them know they were just as important as everyone else.

Skip ahead six weeks to FOB Prosperity here in Iraq.  This time, the perk was improved billeting.  Although the rest of the unit was only given room in two tents (nice tents, but still very crowded tents), the commander and I were offered a trailer (see previous email about CHUs).  The trailer was pretty spartan — a pair of single beds, two night stands, and two wall lockers (mine was even broken).  As soon as it was offered, the commander and I began to talk about our possible courses of action.

“Sergeant major,” he said, “I don’t feel right about having this while everyone else is in the tent.”  I concurred, but I also reminded him that these trailers where not given away lightly…and refusing one now might result in a long wait before one was offered again.  He agreed, and we decided to keep the trailer, but to use it only as a storage room and a place to meet for evening discussions or change after physical fitness training.  We returned to the tents with the rest of the soldiers that night.

Would I have liked to sleep in that trailer?  You bet!  Sleeping in a tent, especially one across the road from a public address system that blares Islamic prayer and music at 5 a.m., is not my idea of comfort — but it was the right thing to do.

Luckily, my sleep habit was not interrupted for too long.  Yesterday, the billeting office at FOB Prosperity — specifically through the actions of MSG Robert Greco from the New Jersey National Guard — placed all our soldiers in trailers, starting this Sunday.

MSG Greco summed up the reason for his actions succinctly when he said that “there shouldn’t be any special privileges” when it comes to assigning the trailers. 

Thank you MSG Greco — may we all live our lives like you and never fall victim to the RHIP syndrome!

What would you do if you were offered lodging in a comfortable trailer, but had to drive a long way to get there and back from work?  For the soldiers of the 314th, the answer was simple: give us a tent.

When our unit arrived at FOB Prosperity a couple weeks ago, we knew we would have to live in tents “for a while.”   Originally, we thought that might be 2-3 weeks.   So, we moved into two very large tents and made the best of it until we got those trailers (called Containerized Housing Units, or CHUs).

A couple days later, we had the chance to drive to the location of those much more comfortable CHUs.  Although they were nice, they were also in a remote location with few of the services needed to keep a soldier happy.  The dining facility was a bit of a hike, the PX was shut down, recreation facilities were not readily available, and our soldiers likely would have been living in CHUs with other soldiers they did not know.   Additionally, our move into the CHUs would only be temporary; 2-3 months later we would be moving back to the FOB Prosperity.

After a huddle with soldiers, LTC Perez made a decision — our soldiers would stay in the tent, as a team, and wait for CHUs on FOB Prosperity.  It was a decision that our soldiers supported wholeheartedly.  The fact that they gave up a comfortable place to lie their head each night was not the main concern.  Instead, they wanted to remain as a team.

Military leaders always said success is based on building a cohesive team, and I guess this is just another anecdotal example that supports that statement. 

Sometime in the future our soldiers will move into those comfortable CHUs, but until then we will do very well in our tents.

NOTE:  As you can see, I have started using some of those military acronyms I warned you about a couple weeks ago.  In this case, I’m using some acronyms and slang that are unique to Iraq.  Here’s a website that will help you better understand this and future blogs: http://www.globalsecurity.org/military/ops/iraq-slang.htm.

Over the past few days, the soldiers of the 314th PAOC have been very busy.  We have been learning new skills quickly, preparing for the day later this week when the soldiers of the 126th PAOC finally depart for Michigan.  However, something else has been on their minds of our soldiers:  R&R leave.

The U.S. Central Command’s Rest and Recuperation Leave Program (R&R leave) is designed to offer an “opportunity for rest and recuperation as well as aid with temporary family reintegration,” according to the program’s website at http://www.armyg1.army.mil/randr/default.asp.

Even though our unit has just arrived, all of us are thinking about the many things we want to fit into those 15 days of leave.  For some, it is a chance to see friends and family; for others, it is a chance to visit someplace new in the world, with travel paid by the U.S. government.  No matter what each soldier has planned, it has been at the forefront of discussion among all of us.

I had the very unenviable position of implementing the program in our unit.  That meant that I had to make sure our soldiers took leave without disrupting the ability of our unit to get our job done.  Since we are a small unit, that also meant developing a schedule of available leave dates (one soldier leaving every few days) and then filling each of those periods with the name of a soldier.

For the past few weeks I have struggled to find some mechanism that would be fair to all and maximize the number of satisfied soldiers.  I finally decided to ask each soldier for their top three choices, and use those as a starting point.  I also asked each soldier to give me some rationale for asking for those dates.

Luckily, a majority of  the soldiers asked for leave dates that were uncontested (no one else wanted the same travel dates).  Others were willing to change their dates to open weeks near their preferred dates with a little persuasion.  However, there were also a few soldiers that did want the same dates as someone else.

At this point, I consulted with LTC Perez for some guidance.  I had some ideas on how to proceed, but I wanted to make sure I was working within the guidelines that he wanted.  He made a very good decision in letting soldiers who had deployed before have priority over first-time deployers.   I went around to first-time deployers and told them they would have to change their first-choice dates to one of the remaining open dates…and although most were disappointed they had to take leave in September instead of July, they decided to make the most of it.

After all that was done, there were only a couple dates still contested.  At this point, I decided to employ some of the negotiation training I received at Nova Southeastern University over the past few years.  With a combination of game theory and Fisher and Ury’s BATNA, I tried to convince soldiers to negotiate with those who wanted the same leave dates.

BATNA, which stands for Best Alternative to a Negotiated Agreement, attempts to get people in conflict to consider what will happen to them if they decide not to negotiate.  In this case, I informed them that if they did not come to an agreement, someone’s name would be pulled from a hat to determine which soldier would get the contested dates.  The soldiers also had to determine whether choosing another date was worth the increased goodwill it would bring to the unit, and especially to the soldier who would receive their first-choice dates.

To add more incentive to a negotiated agreement, I added elements of game theory.  I offered the first person who was willing to negotiate the choice of taking leave during the Memorial Day timeframe if he or she agreed to let the other people have their preferred travel dates.  If soldier A decided to take the Memorial Day timeframe, he or she would be guaranteed a pretty good time period, even if it was not their first choice.  If they decided to pass on the offer, the offer was given to another soldier.

Although the process was a bit stressful and caused a little tension, in the end each soldier had 15-days of leave in their future….and had hopefully learned more about themselves and how they interact with their fellow soldiers.

For the record, I will be back in the United States in early April — earlier than I wanted, but oh well….

Just an update for all family members — we are ALL here in Baghdad and doing fine.  Most of us arrived yesterday afternoon (see yesterday’s blog about baggage handling) and one more of us — PFC Christine Bernat — followed behind us by a day as she completed some required medical appointments.

Mid-day today we met up with the soldiers of the 126th PAOC from Michigan.  They spent the day “showing us the ropes” as they begin making their exit from Iraq.  It was a busy but productive interaction.  We learned a little more about what we can expect, and got to see a bit more of Baghdad (last night it was very dark and we were very tired).

One of the treats we discovered today is that our new temporary home at FOB Prosperity has quite a bit of history…and is in the process of being “gentrified.”  The conflict over the past few years has done some damage here, which is evident in one building in particular, one of Saddam Hussein’s palaces which sits on a small lake.

Actually, I am sitting in his palace now — in a makeshift internet cafe for soldiers from around the world.  Many of our coalition partners are sitting in the room saying their “holas” and “sayonaras” to families just like me.

As for me, I will just say “aloha!”

Air Force Colonel Scott Maw prepares to replace the rank on the chest of newly-promoted LTC Michael Stewart (photo by PFC Christine Bernat).

Hey folks — lately I have been working to get information about promotions for all the enlisted Soldiers in the unit.  It completely slipped my mind that one of our officers, Michael Stewart, was being considered for promotion to lieutenant colonel.  You can all now give a big HOOAH, since he was selected!

For the past couple years, MAJ(P) Stewart has worked in Army Reserve Communications at the Office of the Chief, Army Reserve.  He gained a great reputation as being a go-to guy whenever a problem needed solving quickly and accurately.  While I was working in Atlanta in the Public Affairs Office I had many occasions to work with him — and I always knew I could count on him for support, even when he had other things on his mind and agenda.  And, the biggest compliment I can offer –as an enlisted soldier, I could always tell that he had been enlisted himself.

The big question now is “when will have a party here in Baghdad to celebrate his new rank!

I’ve discovered I have a new career in the military — baggage handler.  Well, maybe not, but I sure got enough practice today. 

Early this morning we cleared out of our tents at Camp Buehring at 6 a.m. and stacked our duffel bags, ruck sacks, foot lockers, weapons racks and carry-on bags, awaiting transportation.  Once the luggage was out, we cleaned our tents — and like good Boy Scouts (and Girl Scouts too I suppose), we left them cleaner than we found them. 

Soon after 7 a.m., our buses and baggage truck arrived, so we loaded up all we had to bring with us.  We were getting good at it now — forming a human conveyor belt as we loaded it all into the underbelly of the buses and truck.  The only thing that kept this human machine from moving more smoothly was the occasional duffel bag seemingly stuff with lead weights — and the ones that had “appendages,” pieces of smaller luggage, sleeping bags, toiletry bags and a wide assortment of other items that did not fit into another bag.  We overcame this obstacle and soon were on our way to Ali a Saleem air base (about 45 minute ride) for our flight north. 

Of course, before that happened we had two more “baggage brigades.”  First, we unloaded all our bags off the truck into a temporary storage area, and then we moved all those items from that area to pallets shortly before our flight. 

With sore arms and backs (ok, maybe just an old sergeant major had those), we arrived here in Baghdad at the international airport mid-afternoon.  It was a smooth ride, but as we approached our destination, I’m sure some soldiers thought we might be a target of some artillery attack.  The fact that our military plane had virtually no windows didn’t help those over-imaginative public affairs minds.  In the end, the only somewhat exciting part of the flight was the very quick and steep descent into the airport.

Meeting us at the airport was MAJ William Roberts, the executive officer for the 126th PAOC, our predecessors at the CPIC…and a few more opportunities to test our baggage handling skills.  When the pallet with our bags came off the plane, first we transferred them to a truck that drove us about 5 miles to a waiting area.  By this time, most of the owners of “oddly-packed bags” had been identified and politely asked to remove aforementioned appendages to make this seemingly unending task a bit more bearable. 

Next, we loaded those same bags back onto a different bus for a short trip into the International Zone, or IZ as it is usually called…..and then FINALLY, we moved those same bags into our temporary lodging in transitional tents at Camp Prosperity — one of the Forward Operating Bases here in Baghad. It was QUITE late when all this was finally completed (well past midnight), so I hope families and friends will excuse their soldiers for not calling or emailing (besides, there seemed to be very bad cell coverage in the places we loaded bags all day — maybe that is how they ensure we keeping loading bags?).

Tomorrow we start a process called TOA — or transition of authority — where we begin to assume the responsibilities of running the CPIC, and the 126th PAOC begins to pull back and prepare for its departure from Iraq and the trip back to Michigan.  I hope their soldiers don’t mind too much if I bow out of their baggage loading activities.  I’ve had my fill of it for a while, thank you.

Yes, finally after more than a week at Camp Buehring, in the northeast corner of Kuwait (close to both Iraq and Iran), we are leaving tomorrow (Wednesday) for Baghdad. When the word came down, there was a sigh of relief in knowing we were moving on to our next phase of this deployment. After that, minds starting racing…thinking about their last minute “to do” list.

We wake up very early tomorrow to load up our bags (again) before breakfast, then a final sweeping of tents. The details of our trip north are still not known, but we are ready to leave and get to our jobs.

From scanning the news here, it looks like today was a busy day in Baghdad with Vice President-elect Joe Biden meeting with top Iraqi officials. That’s the type of media event that your 314th soldiers will be supporting. I’m sure the 126th PAOC from Michigan, the unit that is currently assigned to the CPIC, will be happy to see us arrive since our arrival means it’s only a matter of days until they can return home to their families and friends.

We’ll update everyone from Baghdad as soon as we can. Thank you to everyone for your thoughts and prayers.

With only a week until the inauguration of President-elect Barack Obama, it seemed a good time to blog about this historic occasion. For the Army Reserve Soldiers of the 314th Public Affairs Operations Center in Kuwait now on their way to a year-long deployment in Iraq, it is also a very appropriate topic. The unit, a racially diverse group of 31 Soldiers, has the mission of running the Combined Press Information Center in Baghdad.

From a historical point of view, both this Army Reserve unit and the civil rights movement in America share Birmingham, Ala. Ask most Americans who were adults during the 1960s and their imagery of Birmingham includes televised pictures of city police releasing dogs to attack civil rights marchers led by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and city firefighters turning hoses on marchers to scatter the crowds. The 16th Street Baptist Church, site of the historic bombing and resulting death of four young girls, is located only a few miles from the training center where the 314th Soldiers meet monthly.

From a “big picture” point of view, the Soldiers are interested in the inauguration because that is their job: spreading the word about the Army and all things that affect it, including a new commander-in-chief. But, on a more personal level, the 314th Soldiers see the upcoming inauguration as a turning point and a challenge, expressing a feeling of optimism ranging from cautious to exuberant.

Unit members, especially African-American ones, are not waiting until January 20 to throw their support behind President-elect Obama. The excitement of 1LT John Brimley, press desk officer, on election day was only hampered by his location — a remote training site at Fort Dix, New Jersey. “I wish I could have been home in Birmingham with my friends and family. It was a historic date for all African Americans,” he said. “Now, every American parent can tell their child that anything is possible.” He added that he plans to watch the inauguration live on TV from Iraq.

The unit logistics officer, CPT Joseph Thames, shares Brimley’s excitement, but he said at this point, he is more concerned about “getting the job done” than about race. “I just want to get everyone from our unit back to Birmingham,” he said. After more than seven years at war in Afghanistan, Iraq and elsewhere, that is a common theme among soldiers, their families and Americans in general.

MAJ Mike Stewart, unit S-3, shares Thames’ concerns about results. He said a friend summed up his thoughts about the new President. “He told me that he didn’t vote for him this time, but that he wants to be the first person in line to reelect him…if he succeeds,” said Stewart.

That success has to start in a big way during the first 100 days of Obama’s presidency, said MAJ James Lincoln, unit executive officer. “I think they are ready. Obama has all his key officials and legislation ready to go. All that he needs is to take oath and then flip the switch to make it happen,” he said.

Despite the prevailing mood of anticipation, the 314th is also witness to some of the challenges the new president faces abroad and at home. On the macro-level, every day the soldiers read news in Stars and Stripes about the continued, multi-faceted conflict throughout the Middle East. On a micro-level, they also see racist remarks mixed in with the typical “outhouse graffiti” written on the walls of their latrines – a testimony to the shrinking, but still lingering remnants of racism in America.

“The change that President Obama will bring is the same change that Robert Kennedy and Dr. King predicted,” said SGT Kellena Leech, a 314th public affairs specialist from Columbus, Miss. She traveled with friends to Washington, DC, to visit the Lincoln Memorial on the day now-President-elect Obama gave his acceptance speech in Colorado. “I did it to pay homage to all those who paved the way for our new president..including my mother who was the first African-American to integrate Mississippi College for Women. As President Obama has said, change may take time. It might not come in a year, or even during his first term, but it will come,” she said.

Fittingly, some 40 years after Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke of his dream for the future, Soldiers in the 314th will be working to help address many of the roadblocks to progress, while many of their Army brothers and sisters in arms will stand guard on January 20 to prevent anyone from impeding the progress of the new President in his procession to the White House.

Lately, I’ve been feeling a little about blah about using the phone.  I’ve checked email a million times, but using the phone is such a chore.  The lines are so ridiculously long for the internet and twice as ridiculous for the phone.  There are a gazillion AT&T trailers available for phone usage and you can enter the one of your choosing and find at least 8 of 15 phones available.  Most of them don’t work or Soldiers are choosing not to use the trailer because if you use a 300 minute phone card the AT&T phone only allows you 60 of those.  However, the DSN phones are available and you tend to get all of your time.  That is where the ridiculous lines begin and when I think to use the phone it’s either too late or too early and I know how early mom goes to sleep! 

There are an abundance of activities to get involved in here.  There are a million MWR Recreational Activities which I am grateful to have, as all Soldiers are.  Once we get up north, I’m sure communication will  improve and my attitude or motivation to use the phone will change as well.

When we first got here Kuwait, I had a few things on my mind.  Everyone who knows me, knows how I am about getting my haircut.  I’m kind of selective about letting just anyone cut my hair.  Personally, it’s not really the haircut, it’s the edge up or lineup that’s most important.  I got a haircut Dec. 23 when I got to Birmingham  on Christmas pass.  I didn’t leave until Dec. 28.  I thought about getting another one before I left, but I didn’t need one so I didn’t.  The dilemma I faced was whether or not I would get one at Fort Dix or wait until I arrived in country.  Well, I previously got one at Fort Dix, but I was not pleased with it AT ALL.  I decided to wait until I got here.  I had done about 3 or 4 days worth of research by observing different barbers here on post and asking around about the best barbershops.  I was led to the beauty shop.  The name around town was Ronald.  I had seen some of Ronald’s work and I asked others who were sitting in the shop already.  I was pleased with everyone who knew of or saw Ronald.  It was my turn.  I told him EXACTLY what I wanted and he cut it EXACTLY like I said with a razor edge up and all and to top it all off he finished with a quick massage.  I’m still in question about the massage, but the haircut was just what the doctor ordered.  I guess I need to start my homework now because I’m sure it will be the same situation when I get up north.  A good barber is hard to come by and if I could somehow get my barber here with me I would because he definitely holds it down like no other!

Until next time…

Well I’m still hanging around Camp Buehring and I must admit I’m getting quite anxious.

The novelty of this new location has lost its luster and I am ready to head down range, get settled into a routine and be gainfully employed. Many times in the Army you find moments of shear excitement and volatility only to be punctuated by long periods of down time. Kuwait is no exception. We have, for the most part, been sitting around for the last few days with only something small here and there. It is a good way to get accustomed to the time change I suppose.

I’ve found myself battling the z-monster, the continuous urge to fall asleep, as we crawl through the few remaining days until our flight up country. I know that if I fall into that trap I will succumb to delaying my biological adaptation of my displacement half way around the world. So I’ve been trying to be proactive in spending my time wisely.

Just prior to our flight, the Chaplin at Fort Dix gave us the opportunity to grab some spiritual or leadership literature. I happened to grab one of the former with the intentions of reading it in its entirety prior to the end of the flight. Typically I have a hard time sleeping on a plane. This excursion was an exception and I thus didn’t finish -in fact I barely started- the book. I’ve spent the majority of my down time perusing it, not really a bad read. I found some much needed spiritual enlightenment there.

Oddly enough I’ve moved on to another book that is in stark contrast, that my friend Scott lent me. He is a longtime friend from high school that is an English major from Johnson State College in Vermont, where we both attended for a spell. I attended the school for a brief semester after basic training before realizing the flaming hoops one has to jump through to achieve financial aid form the Army. I’ve heard that it has been more streamlined so I hope to take advantage of that in the future. I broke my leg during my employment at a ski resort trying to work off the debt incured during the semester. I had to use the workers compensation claim to pay off my balance completely. This unpleasant welcome to college helped turn me off to pursuing my degree further. Scott is a drinking buddy from time to time, but is going to serve as my literature aid while I’m over here. I don’t care to say “book buddy” because, well I just don’t like the sound of that. He is going to send me “good reads” from his already sizable personal library.

I was reading ‘Gonzo’ which is about the life of Hunter S. Thompson as told by some of his friends and companions. I was quite into the book, but left it back in NH due to the limited cargo capacity of my travels at this time. Scott did lend me ‘The Rum Diary”, his first novel which was smaller. So thus I have transitioned from a spiritual-based self-help book to a work of fiction that can be quite explicit. All things in balance, I suppose.

Aside from that I have been trying to square away some loose ends. I have some things on my plate that I must take care of while there is down time. I’ve visited the education office today to see what I can do about taking classes while in theater to get back on the education train. I heavily regret, and am quite sensitive about having not yet achieved a bachelor’s degree at this point in my life, just a handful of credits from the University of New Hampshire and Johnson State College. I hope that during some down time, if any, that I may have during this deployment can be used for such a positive benefit.

I do worry about transferability of online credits and I know how stingy the University of New Hampshire can be about accepting outside credits. It’s to bad, but hopefully with the overhauled GI bill, and, if need be, a letter to my local congress representative may justify this.

In addition, I have to stop by the retention office to get some information on reenlisting. It is time to seriously think about that. Truth be told, the Army, as hectic as it can be on my schedule and life, is exciting for me. Otherwise I spend my weeks sitting in an office at my civilian job and lead a rather mundane life. I really have to weigh the pros and cons of a possible 3 or 6 year reenlistment.  This weighs heavy on my mind as thinking for that far into the future is nearly beyond my comprehension. It’s the whole me versus time thing again… we just don’t get along well.

If there is one thing that I have at the moment, it’s time. But, I’ve been duped by time before and I’m sure that I will be again.

Until then I’ll be thinking and waiting…

Cheers

There’s something about our cots that make them creak and moan like a haunted pirate ship all night.  During the day, perfectly normal, functional cots.  But as soon as the sun dips below the horizon, the cots begin their late night chanting: “Wreeeeeeeeeeek.”  “Waaaaaaaaaaagh.”  “Wrrrrrreeeeeeek.”   My head resting on a desert camouflage travel pillow, propped up against my duffel bag for support, I drift off to sleep to the sounds of a 12th century sailing vessel…which is oddly comforting.

It’s amazing where you find comfort in the Army.

Preparing to ship off to war, I felt that looming sense that everything we knew was about to change.  Yet, as we loaded onto the 767 carrying rucks on our backs, M-9s strapped to our legs and M-4s slung over our shoulders, I found comfort in the strict adherence to FAA regulations:  we’re sitting on the plane cradling all our weapons, but we still have to turn over our blades, scissors, and nail clippers.  God Bless the USA and the FAA!  And thank you for providing the cool comfort of irony that only the US Army can provide!

When we hit the foreign, frosty desert air of Kuwait in the middle of the night, I took comfort in the familiarity of soldiers gathered around a weapons clearing barrel  - locking our bolts to the rear, checking the chamber, sliding the bolt forward, pulling the trigger, charging the handle, placing the weapon on safe…the comfortable routine monotony of soldiering.

As our ramshackle bus hurtled toward Camp Buehring, bumping and grinding along the way, my senses sharpened and my muscles tensed as I looked for IEDS (improvised explosive devices) in every abandoned car we passed.  Our driver didn’t believe in smooth braking as he slammed the bus to halt and then jerked it forward again every 10th of a mile.  He didn’t believe in headlights, either, which made the fact that he didn’t hit one passing camel or one oncoming car all the more impressive.  I chalk that up to either the driver having keen bat-like nighttime vision or some divine influence looking out for us.  Either way, there’s comfort there.

And here, in the dusty confines of Camp Buehring, I’ve found plenty of comfort.  Sure, we’re sleeping 15 men in a cramped GP Medium tent.  Sure, we’re covered in sand from the tops of our patrol caps to the soles of our boots.  Sure, we’re thousands of miles away from our homes, our families, loved ones.

But we’ve found comfort in each other.  We’ve found comfort in the love and support from back home.  We’ve found comfort in the MWR-provided amenities such as DSN phone calls home, the volunteer-run USO, internet access, video games, movies, pool, ping pong, card games, aerobics, the gym facilities, the BX shopping center, the multiple dining facilities (DFACs)…they even have KFC, Burger King, and other food court trailers.

Yes.  Burger King.  Chinese Food.  Pizza.  Steak.  Here.  In the desert.  The taste of democracy.

Most importantly to me, they have coffee readily available.  There are several Green Beans trailers set up around the camp for our convenience, but there rests a jewel in this desert crown.  Like a diamond in the rough…gleaming amongst the sand-covered tents and trailers… sits Starbucks.  An actual Starbucks.  Neon signs and all.  With wood-paneled insides, gourmet coffee posters, and genuine barristas working the iconic counter.  They even have the little shaker of cinnamon I like to sprinkle on my morning cup of joe.  The only thing missing are NYC hipsters huddled over Iphones and grad students furtively tapping away on a laptop at the corner tables, which kind of makes the Starbucks experience all the more comforting.

So, as we prepare to jet off to Baghdad in the coming days, I take comfort in knowing that someone’s looking out for our comfort.  That we can always make the most uncomfortable of experiences comfortable.  And that, Yes.  Even here.  In the middle of Camp Buehring.  In the middle of the desert.  In the middle of the Middle East.   There’s a Starbucks.

I love the smell of freedom in the morning!

A few days ago, I wrote a blog about Kuwait. In it, I mentioned that I could not hear much of the desert sounds outside my tent because the drone of generators blocked out everything else in the Kuwaiti desert…and I wondered what those sounds were.

Well, that got me thinking about the “real Kuwait.” I realized I did not know as much as I should, since I was a guest here.  First, I started thinking about what Kuwait was like many years ago, before it became Westernized. I got online and did a little research and found some interesting facts.

For instance, I never would have guessed that it used to be the center of the world pearl industry hundreds of years ago…or that it was very popular on the spice trade routes with India.  Then, I read that is was this week in 1991 that U.N. Resolution 678 set the deadline for Iraqi forces to end its occupation of Kuwait or face the use of force authorized by U.N. Resolution 660 (yes, we probably have soldiers in the Army today who were not even alive when Operation Desert Shield/Desert Storm began in 1991).

Then, I began to think more about the Kuwait people…..and then it hit me. I have been in the country of Kuwait for almost a week, and I don’t think I have met a single Kuwaiti.  The people who work at Camp Buehring are either American soldiers or contractors, with a mix of contractors and soldiers from other countries in support roles.  Nowhere, however, is there a Kuwaiti.

Over breakfast this morning, a couple of us talked about this since two of the 314th soldiers at the table had been in Kuwait before, and one had actually driven into Kuwait City.  The consensus was that Kuwaitis were not here at Camp Buehring or elsewhere near the U.S. Army because they did not have to be.  The Kuwaitis are the 9th richest country on earth (the U.S. is 6th) with the 5th largest known reserve of oil.  The presence of Americans is important, but it is not their most important concern, I believe.  They allow the United States to use their land, in part to ensure their continued security and economic strength, and in part to thank the United States and other coalition partners for liberating the county from Iraq 18 years ago.

The 314th soldier who had been to Kuwait City said the people there are very friendly and accepting of the United States soldiers in their country, but they do not actively seek out to interact with Americans.  Their capital city has some beautiful Arab and Western inspired architecture, and the people share a more Western outlook than most other Arab nations in the region.

Despite all of this information, I got to thinking about other countries I have visited in the past on military orders, such as the Republic of Korea, Japan and Germany.  In each of these countries, the U.S. Army worked with local communities to develop “outreach opportunities” for U.S. soldiers to interact with local host-nation citizens.  One of my favorite memories from an annual training in Japan in the late 1980s was the opportunity to have dinner with a Japanese family at their home.  Since I was studying Japanese at the University of Hawaii at the time, it gave me the opportunity to test what I had learned and show my host family that I was not an “ugly American” who expected them to only speak English in their own country.  It ended with both of us making a good impression on the other with development of respect, understanding and friendship.

What if the people of Kuwait did the same?  What if they worked with the U.S. Army and created opportunities for U.S. soldiers to meet and learn more about each other?  I think it might help to alter the way Americans view Arabs as a monolithic cultural society — lumping members of radical extremist groups with Western-friendly middle class people from countries like Kuwait.  The Army tells us soldiers we are all ambassadors here…so let us do that diplomacy and help change the world for the better.

For an experience like that, I would definitely do more research about Kuwait and pull out the Arabic language training guide the Army gave me.

Well, we’re in Kuwait. It was a long flight with two stops, Iceland- which went rather quickly- and on to Germany. The latter place we were stuck there for something like 6 hours, much of it I spent curled up like a vagrant on some seating in the military portion of the terminal. I managed to doze off and recon the insides of my eyelids. The plane was less than crowded and I had a window and aisle seat all to myself. Try as I might up until this point, I could not seem to get any sleep. So Germany it was then, Leipzig to be precise. As we began initial descent, from altitude into Germany we were somewhere over France. I could identify Paris, Normandy and even London through their gleaming lights that stood out in the darkness. I can’t wait to return to France. I visited Paris on a trip in high school and hope to see more of the country.

Germany was cold and there was snow everywhere. They must have received nearly 10 inches of snow prior to our arrival. That was nearly all I saw of the country though. In time I will hope to go there as a tourist, but now I was merely passing through. Something managed to wake me from my slumber, I will have to call it hunger, simply just hunger. The time changes really jacked me up and now my stomach was paying the price. Apparently I slept through a free breakfast that was offered. I meandered about looking for some form of subsistence. There was a gift shop in the area, two actually, with everything from beer to jagermeister to absinthe and other things that I could not buy. But there were shot glasses and other tourist fare, to include the beloved party favorite, the glass boot. As tempting as it was I had no use for it where I was going and Jen bought me one a while back.  I did manage to find a sausage, more like a hot dog. It was terrible and bland, but it filled the void.

Then we embarked on our final voyage to Kuwait. This, I was told, was around six hours, but I wouldn’t know it because the nap in Germany served as a primer and I slept most of the flight. We landed late at night or was it the wee hours of the morning? I couldn’t tell you what day it was, but we got there. We were bussed to the central part of the desert by a contracted driver that wasn’t hesitant to jam the brake pedal in such a way as to test Newton’s laws of physics that “an object in motion tends to stay in motion.”  Every time he touched the brake it was forcefully, and most of the rest of the sleeping GIs on the bus would mumble and groan in their sleep. Not me, I was wide awake, this was new country, unseen by these eyes. I stared into the darkness of the night, well rested, but tired and disoriented from my travel. We arrived in the  desert night and were welcomed by briefings and such that it was nearly 0900 local time before we got to rack out. Luckily, I was ahead of the power curve thanks to the sleep on the plane, but I was still exhausted. 

The place is barren, and reminiscent of NTC — Fort Irwin California minus the mountains to look at. It’s flat, and the cloudless sky goes forever. Dust is everywhere and it doesn’t feel unlike I’ve landed on Mars. The infrastructure of the camp is pretty good, with many places to remind us displaced Americans of home. A Taco Bell, a Starbucks and various other establishments beckon you and try to fool you into a false sense that this is just another AT. I can only imagine what this place was back in ‘03 for the push. Surely none of this was there. The communications is a little rough right now.  I usually take some time to send up my blogs due to the fact that I like to reflect on them for a few days before I write. Internet connectivity in the middle of the desert usually consists of waiting in line for a spell, as does the phones. I’ve talked with my brother Steve, girlfriend Jen and my mom since I’ve been here,  it was nice to hear voices. I’ve never been much of a talker on the phone, but now things are changing I suppose. I don’t anticipate being here for long, but I don’t think we can leave soon enough. 

Until then I will sit back in my tent, stare at the ceiling enjoying my non-alcoholic beverages (yes they are available and authorized here… is it bad that I think they are delicious) and wait for movement. I’m Baghdad bound!

I’m a morning person — there is no getting around that fact.  I like to wake up early, eat breakfast early, go to work early.  That works out fine when I am home alone.  I can make as much noise or turn on as many lights as I want rolling out of bed, getting dressed, taking a shower, and moving around my townhouse.  The same cannot be said for a soldier living in a tent with 14 others.

Before I go any further, let me explain one thing: not every soldier goes to sleep or wakes up at the same time.  Yes, we have to report for duty or morning formation at the same time, but that doesn’t mean we have to roll out of our beds at the same time.  Some of the 314th soldiers, for example, are definitely night owls.  They like to stay up as late as possible, whether they are watching live afternoon television from the United States, reading a book, preparing for tomorrow’s work day, or grabbing a snack at the midnight meal (yes, just like Taco Bell, Camp Buehring has “fourthmeal”) .

Others, however, are like me.  By the time 8 or 9 p.m. rolls around, my eyes are getting droopy and I am starting to yawn.  I know it is time to head for a bunk (or a trusty Army cot in this case).  Again, this would be fine, if I were back home, but since I am not, I need to prepare for “the morning creep.”

The morning creep is not a strange guy who hangs around the chow hall at 5 a.m. making off-color remarks.  No, the morning creep is what I do every day when I rise out of bed at 4:30 a.m. to ensure my fellow tent-mates are not woken from their slumber.  It takes a lot of planning to make the creep possible.

As I prepare the night before, I need to make sure all the necessities of the morning are ready to go. The last thing I want to do is stumble around a dark tent, tripping over any gear that is strewn around the floor…or worse, knock into the cot of  “a night person” who is just entering REM state.

This preparation takes strategy, with each phase of my morning ritual thought out carefully.  I start my morning with hygiene.  Thinking logically, I place all necessary equipment and such very close to my cot in a pile .  The only two other things I have closer to me when I sleep are my glasses and my Blackberry cell phone (which serves double duty as my flashlight at that time of the morning).  With glasses on and cell phone leading the way, I put on my tennis shoes, strap on my reflective PT belt and 9 mm handgun holster, and grab my shower shoes and toiletry bag.  It’s time for prepare my body for the new day, and the shower trailer is just down the road from our tent with 10 showers, 10 sinks and 6 toilets (only half with toilet paper at any given time).  The nice thing about being there at 4:36 a.m. (yes, I allow myself 6 minutes to get there) is that I am usually one of only 2-3 people at that time of the morning.  You don’t want to be in there at 6:45 a.m.– it’s standing room only.

After I return to the tent, fresh as the morning dew on a camel’s back, I am ready to dress.  The night crowd is still sound asleep at 5:05 a.m. when I quietly push open the flaps of the tent.  With cell phone in hand I creep across the floor, making sure to avoid any “landmines” — such as someone’s helmet or body armor thrown into my way.

Once I make it back to my cot, I hang my towel over a loose flap in the tent for it to dry for tomorrow’s repeat performance (luckily the desert environment means my towel will be dry in about 3 hours).  I then slide out of my PT uniform and reach behind my cot for my Army Combat Uniform (ACU) that I placed on a plastic coat hanger the night before.

Since there are no coat racks or closets in a tent, you need to make due with what the Army gives you.  In this case, it is a strap that is used to tie back the flaps of a tent.  Because Kuwait is smack dab in the middle of sandstorm county, you don’t really need that strap — not many tents open their screen windows.  However, tying a loose knot at the bottom of the strap leaves just enough space for 4-5 plastic hangers — and my ACU is front and center every morning (with my wallet already placed in my shoulder pocket — so I don’t have to look for it in the morning).

With the stealth of James Bond, I reach for the new t-shirt and socks I placed near my hygiene pile the night before and put them on before reaching for my uniform.  Next, I sit down on the cot and reach directly underneath for my boots.

I have to interject here that this dressing procedure is somewhat compounded by the fact that a Blackberry goes dark every minute or so unless you move the track ball on the side of the phone.  So, while I am dressing, I also have to remember to reach over every 55-59 seconds and move the track ball slightly to ensure my “flashlight” does not go dark.  I suppose I could use a real flashlight, but that would be just one more thing to carry — and I am kind of clumsy at 4:30 am in the dark.

With my uniform now on, I am ready for the last act of the morning creep.  I reach on the other side of my cot for a second strap that holds my M4 rifle.  Yes, the Army has prepared all of the 314th PAOC soldiers to protect themselves.  Over the top of all this, I place my reflective belt (it plays double duty from the hygiene pile) before I head over to the chow hall.  The rule at Camp Buehring is that you wear the belt anytime it is dark, and the sun will just about to peek above the horizon as I make the trek back to the tent after breakfast at 6 am.

As I enter the tent at the top of the hour, I hear “Reveille” being played over the camp’s loud speakers — the Army has offically declared it is day!  I know that finally I have license to flick the switch on the sputtering fluorescent light above my cot and welcome the morning to all those soldiers who did “the night creep” six hours earlier.