………

~January 15, 2009 : my boots hit the concrete in the sandy suburbs of Baghdad, Iraq…..This is what I saw:
 

Checkpoints…t-walls… palm trees…speed bumps made from tank tracks… ID checks… search points, the sound of helicopters hovering overhead, billowing smoke in the distance, bright blue skies, concrete, dust… … ..sand… …sand… ……and more sand. Iraqi’s walking the streets, driving their mopeds, trying to make it to wherever they’re going on time. Inshallah. (God willing) These are the things I am surrounded by daily. It’s become my life. Imagine the things you’re so used to that you may not even notice anymore. Maybe such things as the sound of a plane passing, stopping at a red light, or even only having to walk a few feet away from your bed at night to use the restroom when “nature calls“. These things, my American ways of life, have now been replaced by the new mundane reality here in Baghdad.

When I imagined this deployment to Iraq, a “war zone”, I never sat down to think about all of the little life adjustments I would have to be willing to make. I never thought about things like having no more privacy, walking a tenth of a mile or no less than three minutes to use the restroom, or going through three checkpoints before making it “home” safely at night after work.

I guess I did what every soldier does when they hear they’re getting deployed. I became mentally prepared for this “war zone”  on a larger level and neglected the thought of such little changes. I put all of my effort into training on my soldier skills, preparing to face death and destruction. Now that I’m here I realized that these little things are what is making such an impact on me.

I’ve yet to hear any fire fights, come across improvised explosive devices, or see this “death and destruction” I had prepared for.  So when I look down onto the right shoulder sleeve of my Army combat uniform I almost feel a little guilty for wearing this combat patch. But then “nature calls” in the middle of the dusty Iraqi night, and I walk those three minutes to go to the restroom. I then remember that everyone here in Iraq or Afghanistan have all made sacrifices, small or large. Regardless of what our mission is on this deployment, I know that once I get home I will appreciate the little things that most people don’t even give a second thought……

traffic laws…brushing my teeth with water out of the sink,… civilian clothes…choices….moderately clear skies…HOME.

It’s hard to believe, but I hear people asking where the recycle bins are here in the International Zone. I try to be as “green” as I can, but I think in the grand scheme of things over here, recycling my water bottles falls pretty far below listening for incoming mortars and making sure I don’t catch any insect-borne diseases. I suspect it is even further down the list of important things to do for people who live outside the IZ.

There is a lot of trash on the sides of the roads over here, but not as much as I expected to see. That is probably because we are in the International Zone…and there is probably some effort to keep the place looking presentable. I’d be willing to bet the areas outside are strewn with garbage, remnants of buildings destroyed by war, and vehicles destoryed by IEDs.

But, on the other hand, I think there is a concerted effort to make the most of everything we have here in the IZ. There are not a lot of places to get “new” things here in Iraq, or the IZ specifically. You don’t see a lot of the “disposable” culture of the United States. Instead, you see people looking for unique ways to make use of every thing they have.

For instance, I took a trip today to a dining facility that is closing this Friday. The area is going to be turned over to the Government of Iraq, so all the American equipment is being “redistributed”. When I heard about this from a second lieutenant down the road, I asked her for the name the NCOIC of the dining facility. I wanted to see what he had, and how we could use it at our new Combined Press Information Center at Camp Prosperity (my relatives and friends will testify that I am a pack rat, so this was purely impulse).

When we arrived, SPC Mary Lee (one of our escort drivers who knows the area well) and I had hoped to find a refrigerator to keep water cold. With the summer quickly approaching, that would have been a treasure. When we met the first sergeant of the dining facility, he pointed to a very tall and very heavy cooler with sliding glass doors and a Coca-Cola design on the sides. He told us it worked well and asked us if we wanted it.

Although it was not exactly what I wanted, I figured I was not likely to find a stainless steel designer refrigerator that dispensed crushed ice and water….so I said “yes”. He shouted for some help, and a group of Iraqis and other international staff rushed to help load it on the back of the truck we brought.

Just as I was about to put my back into it, one of the workers told me the cooler in fact did not work. The first sergeant, unaware of this, seemed a little embarrassed (trying to pass off shoddy, albeit free merchandise is not a crime, but it’s not something you do to a fellow NCO). In an attempt to quickly recover his dignity, he asked us if we would like an almost new freezer instead.

Hmmm….a freezer? That sounds much colder than a cooler, and more preferable on 130 degree days in Baghdad. I immediately said “yes” again….and was quite happy to see a spotlessly clean freezer on wheels in the next room. It looked like it had stored tubs of ice cream until quite recently.

Within a few minutes, SPC Lee, a team of workers and I had loaded the freezer on the back of the truck and sped away — happy with a new acquisition.

What will I use the freezer for? Well, I am not quite sure at this point. I am entertaining suggestions from blog readers and 314th PAOC soldiers. No matter what we decide, it is just one more piece of equipment that has new life thanks to “recycling” in the IZ.

Well, we’ve been here over a month now and we’ve all gotten settled down into a decent “battle rhythm.”  As you may or may not know, we’re not doing exactly what we thought we would be.  I thought I’d get to do some electronic news gathering while I was here, but I am not.  My job here is to help coordinate Western media embeds in Iraq.  I provide guidance to reporters on how to get the process started, send requests to division Public Affairs Offices, and coordinate travel for the reporters when they get here.  Not a bad gig, it’s an important part of getting the story out…getting the storytellers where they need to be.  But there is a great lack of creativity or even variation in my schedule.  You’ve seen Groundhog Day with Bill Murray right?   That’s what this is like.  In the words of Trent Reznor, “Everyday is exactly the same.”  Anyway, the lack of creativity in my job has forced me into other forms of cretive outlets, first of which being my guitar.  I’ve been playing a lot lately, learning new songs and writing my own.  Also, I’ve already made one video of the 314th’s trip to New York (though I was told I can’t put it on the blogsite, but you can find it here:  http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=52303669).  PS:  not a big fan of Windows Movie Maker, I need to go back to professional software.  My next goal is to do a little mini-documentary on myself, kind of like “a day in the life of…”  thing.  I am taking extra steps to make sure it is entertaining and not really as boring as my days really are.  So this is for all those looking to hear from me, I am in the process of something really cool for you guys.  I’ll keep in touch, but as for now, back to reading emails from reporters…the emails, the emails, the emails…so many emails.  Later homies.

SPC Brittany Gardner took the following three photos today during a special moment for PFC Christine Bernat. 

Over the past few weeks, PFC Bernat has risen to the challenge every time she was asked to do so.  First, the commander placed her in a challenging position — serving as the first person that Western and Pan-Arab media representatives meet when they arrive at the Combined Press Information Center.  As the commander says, she is polite but firm in that role. 

Finally, she has put together a rigorous physical fitness plan to prepare for an upcoming fitness test.  She can often be seen working out at the Camp Prosperity fitness facility.

For all those reasons and more, PFC Bernat was today awarded the Army Achievement Medal! 

Congratulations — and keep up the 314th standard of maximum effort, minimum delay.

 

OK, it’s time to let everyone in on something our 314th Soldiers already know — this mission at the Combined Press Information is probably not the best one to test their Public Affairs skills.  Yes, we do work directly with Western and Pan-Arab media, so in some ways it is important.  For instance, the Soldiers can see all the things journalists do to collect a story — so they can emulate it or better facilitate it.  Similarly, they sometimes talk to the journalists and share “war stories” — another way to learn the trade from people who are making a living at it.  And, of course, our Soldiers are learning skills that will help them in any career — things like effective intercultural communication, operational security, leadership, and being a team player.

However, if you talk about opportunities for our Soldiers to find a story, interview, photograph or videotape, and then edit down a final product — that is not part of their normal day.  I don’t mean to say that our Soldiers are not doing meaningful work — they are, and are doing it exceedingly well.   They are recognized by LTC Perez and by others outside our organizational daily.   Additionally, they are making our Western and Pan-Arab media feel welcome and leaving them with the impression that they professional American Soldiers.

But, our Soldiers want more.

So, to make up for the lack of opportunities in one key area, our unit has a new program:  the 314th Public Affairs Excellence Program, which recognizes the efforts of our Soldiers to keep their Public Affairs skills honed despite the mission they have been assigned.

Each day there are plenty of stories out there for the Soldiers of the 314th PAOC.  In fact, one of the first things we learn at the Department of Defense Information School is that almost everything and everyone can be a good story, if you look deep enough.  For instance, SGT Jeremy Fowler did a story last week about his reenlistment in the Army Reserve, and the memories and feelings it stirred in him.  He posted it on this blog, but it was also sent to the Army’s Recruiter Journal — a magazine that gets sent to Army Recruiters around the world, and to Army Reserve headquarters in Washington, DC.   Will it get used?  Maybe.  It would be nice if it did, but if not, at least he made the effort to write the story and market it to an important audience.  For that effort, and for the quality of his story, he was our first weekly winner in the program.

The announcement of that first win has stirred the desire of many other Soldiers in the unit to get in on the glory (well, maybe not “glory” since weekly winners only get bragging rights).  They know that SGT Fowler’s weekly winner is now entered into the February monthly competition, where the top prize in each of six categories is a certificate of achievement (which gives our Soldiers extra points on their promotion packets).  Quarterly winners will win gift certificates they can use at the local exchange, and the final awards will be Army Achievement Medals presented at the end of our year deployment.

In addition to the print category that SGT Fowler won last week, there is also a video, radio, photo, graphic arts and special products category.  That means there are lots of opportunities for our Soldiers to excel.  But, here’s the catch — most of this work requires our Soldiers to go above and beyond.  They still have their regular work to do during a typical work day, so they need to keep their eyes and ears open during that work day.  Then after work or during their breaks they need to start the research or coordinate their interviews.  Finally, they need to spend extra hours conducting the interviews, drawing the military art, editing video, creating a radio commercial (we call them “spots”), or creating some other special product that supports our mission to get the word out about the work of the military here in Iraq.  I know several of our Soldiers are already talking about using their days off to do all this extra work.  Some may be doing it for the glory, but I think deep down inside, they are doing it because they are Public Affairs professionals who are eager to show the Western and Pan-Arab  journalists who visit us every day that, in many ways, they are their peers.

The added bonus here is that other military and civilian Public Affairs professionals here in Iraq and elsewhere are judging the competition — so they get to see the creativity, technical expertise, and professionalism of our Soldiers.

So, in the next few months, if you hear from one of our Soldiers talking about their win in the 314th Public Affairs Excellence Program, realize not only the excellence, but also the added effort they expended.

Today, January 28 at 1515 local time, 1215 Zulu or 0715 EST, I reenlisted in the United States Army Reserve. At that date, it has been six years, six months and seven days since I first raised my hand and took the oath to defend the Constitution. I have fulfilled my first contract and am now locked into a second, six-year obligation. I am dizzy with thoughts of wondering what the next six years will bring, where it will send me and where I will find myself after that time.

 

I think back to the last six years and wonder where all that time went. It doesn’t seem that all that long ago I was sitting in a recruiter’s office in Dover, NH, pondering the idea of whether military service was at all for me. My mother will tell you that she always knew that she would see me in a uniform. I wore one for 15 years as a boy scout and I suspect she always knew that I would carry on military heritage throughout her family. I remember the Military Entrance Processing Station in Portland, Maine. I still remember the flag draped room where I first raised my hand and took the oath for the first time.

I remember being more fearful then, that night before leaving for basic training, more than anything since. I feared the future. I remember feeling all alone in a hotel the night before my flight to South Carolina; my brothers, father, mother and my maternal grandparents treated me to a farewell lobster dinner somewhere in Portland’s old port. I still have a picture of my older brother Steve and I, shaggy hair and all, kicking around from that evening. Then they dropped me off at the hotel where I was to check in. I had a roommate, that evening he fell asleep early while I stirred most of the evening with nervous anticipation and wonder. Thus I began my enlistment.

Between then and now seems like a flash. I’ve been to the other side of the world and have served all over the United States and Korea. Now I sit in the Coalition Press Information Center in Baghdad, Iraq, missing all that I’ve accomplished in the last six year. I miss my family, my brother, my friends, I miss Jen, the love of my life, I miss the farmland on the Salmon Falls River that I will always consider home.

I’m not lonely though. I have brothers and sisters that I see every day.  My fellow Soldiers with whom I serve has become my temporary family.

It is because of that, I have managed to find the ability to easily reenlist in the Army Reserve. But, it is only through the overwhelming support of my girlfriend, my family and friends that I could really do it without hesitation.

I have found that the Army life is very fitting for me. Teamwork, honor, selfless service, weapons handling, maintenance, survival skills, driving skills, journalistic skills, people skills, and leadership; this is only a brief synopsis of what I have learned in the last six years. What will the future hold? I am eager to find out.

To all those who support me, thank you. I can only hope to make you proud.

According to our countdown calendar, we have completed 20% of this deployment. It seems like just yesterday that I was getting on a plane for Kuwait. I remember getting off the Rhino in Baghdad and seeing all the bombed out buildings. I had a moment of wondering what in the world I had gotten myself into. It almost mimicked the feeling I had when I got off the bus at basic training and the drill sergeants started yelling at me. In both cases, I had no choice but to adapt and overcome.

Everything felt better the next morning when I was able to meet the unit we would be replacing. I was not expecting to be driving around the IZ in a Suburban or a Ford mini-van.  I was also shocked to find out that contracted Peruvian and Ugandans, not U.S. soldiers would be providing security at the checkpoints.  I came to Iraq assuming Arabic would be the predominate language, only to find myself learning more Spanish and Swahili.

Sometimes I feel like this deployment is a social experiment. Baghdad has become a melting pot of cultures and beliefs. Every day I see something else that makes me remember how far away from home we are. I described this place to my mother as a Biblical scene with a modern military twist.  Baghdad is full of beautiful architecture behind the t-walls and concertina wire. I have enjoyed learning about the history and seeing the ruins of a fallen dictatorship.

Although this deployment isn’t exactly what I expected, every day is a new adventure. With adventure comes experience. So, in keeping true to our experience…..

See you later, Tutaonana (Swahili), Maasalaamah (Arabic), Hasta luego (Spanish)

There is something about rain. It makes me think. I find myself sitting; listening to it hit the ground, each little drop. Singularly it’s barely audible, but in mass it forms a chorus of sounds, rhythms and melodies. You can hear the frequency pick up, slow down or flat out stop. When interacting with various objects it becomes more interesting. I’d be cliché to say like rain on a tin roof, but it is an addicting sound. I find it much more interesting to listen to rain react with plant life.
Some of my deepest thinking has been during a rainstorm. I hunt; to most people this is all about going out to “score the big buck” or to “bag that wild turkey that you’ve seen waddling around the cornfield.” I cannot claim to be a devout hunter, good at it, or even to have a wall of trophies, but it is a sport that I enjoy. It helps yield for a better understanding of nature but further it provides me a reason to remove myself from society. I can withdraw, even if just for a few hours, into a completely different world. Escaping the brutally routine everyday commotion that we subject ourselves to; I experience life at its most primitive. I enjoy camping for just the same reason. Maybe I’m a recluse deep down or maybe I’m just a confused hermit. Regardless, one of my favorite past times is listening to the rain in the forest. Bundled up in rain gear with my back against a tree scanning the woods, or in a tent listening to the rain.
Light rain usually yields a fog in the Northern New England forests that in itself loses me in fantastical thought my mind wanders form thought to bizarre differing thought. Conversely outright downpours, the real deep rain that bounces off leaves in big drops and sounds more like millions of tiny slaps causes deeper thoughts. Time manages to decompress itself in these wooded monsoons.
Snow, well that is another story. That will have to wait for another blog.
I had never really thought about this until I sat here in Iraq trying to remember the last time I saw precipitation. That is what sparked these notions. When we left New Jersey it was snowing, or darn near it. We missed the Kuwait rainstorms that I had heard so much about. The talcum-powder-fine desert dust mixed with sheets of rain, however brief, purportedly yields a sugar-cookie-dough-like substance which cakes to boots, tires etc just adding weight. I’m not sorry I missed that. But here in Baghdad, the lack of rain was apparent.
I did witness my first sandstorm. The day started cast in shades of crimson and red overcast clouds, not unlike a winter evening in New England prior to an impending snowstorm. The until now non-existent wind slowly began to whip up and by 10:00 it was intermittently blowing fierce enough to cause the canvas shade coverings outside to pop and snap. With it came sand, the same fine sand that was in Kuwait. There it was everywhere, heck it was a desert. There wasn’t anything but sand. But here, in Baghdad that sand was just stuck to everything I saw and with no visible reason for it being there. There was concrete and gravel everywhere. Like Oakies in the dust bowl, you had to wander about trying to do the best not to get dust in your eyes, nose and mouth. This, of course proved impossible. Initially on my arrival, it seemed like the locals had some kind of freakish party where they sprayed a light coat of water on everything just to throw bags of dust about just to watch it stick; merry pranksters wreaking havoc just for obsessive compulsive officers to drop their jaws at the mess they made and itch to clean it up.
I soon realized that this wind was the reason for all of this. It was the reason that I spend hours, and money on Swifer wet-jet pads cleaning my living area. This storm was mild I was told by those who had been here before me. But it was part of something bigger. Somebody up there must like me, because this necessary evil, this sandstorm gave way to rain. That night, as I left work to return to my living quarters, the wind died down and I felt it. Rain, slow drops of it here and there. It dawned on me then that it had been over a month since I had seen any form of precipitation. I had been far too busy to notice up until now. While driving back, lightning flashed and lit the otherwise dark and clouded skies and the reverberations of lighting in the distance heightened my alert. Mentally I was confusing it for distant explosions.
I reached the sanctity of FOB Prosperity and could relax my guard a little. I was a bit edgy, that drive always amplifying my vigilance. The sky opened up and the rain quickly puddle on all surfaces. This, just in time for me to walk to my CHU (living quarters), “you can’t win them all,” I thought. I spent the evening looking out the door at the rain and listening to it pelt the trailer roof…thinking.

Being in Iraq on Valentine’s Day is a little odd.  First off, the holiday is only celebrated in Western societies, and the cards are quite an interesting cultural artifact (says the researcher in me).   When one of our soldiers wished an Iraqi “Happy Valentine’s Day” this morning, he looked at her with a strange expression (they look at us with that face often).  What was even odder was a group of us American soldiers trying to explain the occasion to the Iraqi.   I started to think about why we say it to almost perfect strangers, since it was started to recognize only those dearest to us.  Then I wondered why we encourage young kids to sign cards and give them to everyone else in their class — analyzing stuff too much again.  After I saw how much our soldiers appreciated the cards, I had my answer.

Despite all that analyzing, I was happy to see four boxes of valentines arrive into the 314th over the past few days.  The first one came from MAJ Lincoln’s daughter back in the United States.  She and others in her school created more than 150 cards and sent them to us.  Later today, MAJ Lincoln and a couple other volunteers from the unit will line up at the mess tent and give everyone who works in our “office” one of those cards.  We have a mix of Americans, other Westerners, and Iraqis…so we will almost certainly see some mixed reactions.

Two other boxes came from kid — one from a YMCA in Prattville, AL, and other from a 4H club in Holt, MI.  They included beautiful handmade cards and little packets of candy.  Thank you to all of you that spent all that time making us soldiers feel special.

The final box came from Del Tull and his team of Family Readiness Group volunteers.   Each envelope had the hand-printed name of 314th PAOC soldiers…and was delivered early this morning (the folks who work at the Embassy will get their cards this afternoon when we see them).  Inside each envelope was a cute card (with a picture of a puppy) and a heart-shaped lollipop. 

When you are far from home, and you miss your loved ones, something like that makes them seem closer…but it also reminds you of the distance.   I thought I would ask some of the soldiers what they were thinking today.  Here’s a sampling:

SPC Autumn Hope said she has mixed emotions about the holiday.  It was three years ago on Valentine’s Day that she was “dumped” by someone she was seeing at the time.  She decided leave school early that day and then found an ad online looking for broadcast journalists to join the Army Reserve.  In a twist of fate, she met her current “valentine” in the military and is very happy that things turned out the way they did. 

SGT Jeremy Fowler said he finds it “mildly depressing” to be 8,000 miles and 8 time zones away from his valentine.  To ensure she and his mom got flowers on time, he had them delivered two days early on February 12 (he said having them delivered yesterday on Friday the 13th just didn’t seem wise).  He also sent his girlfriend a jar full of 365 “I Love You” messages. 

MAJ James Lincoln said he is thankful for his wonderful family this Valentine’s Day — wife Brenda, son Kyle, and daughers Michaela and Jillian. 

SGT Bryan Tull said soldiers always appreciate getting stuff from home (and others), and getting it on holidays makes even more special.  However, he wanted folks to know he still hasn’t received his box from home, and hopes everyone is looking for it.

SGT Kellena Leech said “thank you” to all the kids who sent us cards, but that she would rather focus on another holiday (she began humming “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” at that point).

SPC Justin Wright said he called his girlfriend at 11:30 pm and told her how much he loves her…but he also added that for other people who don’t have a valentine, the day is merely a reminder they are single (so be nice to single people today).

SFC Poulten gave a shout to all the lovely ladies back in New York City!

As for me, I am glad that our soldiers are happy today because of the love they receive from friends and family back home.  I’m also glad that we got to share all those  cultural artifacts with the folks we work with here in Baghdad. 

Thanks to all of you for making this day special.

I’ve heard that some people can tell when it is going to rain when their joints begin to hurt, and sometimes dogs start to pace when there is going to be an earthquake.  Well, I don’t have either of those odd abilities, but I do have one other — I can tell when a dust storm is on the way in Iraq.  Whenever there is dust in the air, I begin to sneeze…..and the more dust there is, the more I sneeze.

Just in case you were watching the weather forecast for Baghdad today, you would have noticed a big sneeze attack approaching from the west.  Yes, we officially had a dust storm (or maybe it was a sand storm).  On a regular day here at the Combined Press Information Center I sneeze three times in a row — translation: normal dust amounts.  The commander waits for the third, and when I stop he knows all is well.  When the wind has picked up over the past month and the dust began to swirl, I usually delivered 4-5 sneezes in a row.  When this happened, the commander would ask me if we had swept the room in the past couple days.  Today, I had to venture out into the mess, and I delivered a whopper — 7 sneezes in a row.

As I was driving in the dust storm, it started out like driving in a thick fog — it blanketed the International Zone with a slight off-white hue.  As the winds picked up and I made my way onto the new Embassy compound, the color turned to a beige.  I over heard one guy telling another that when it turns into a full-blown sand storm, the color turns yellow.  Yellow?  I can see a 10-in-a-row sneeze in my future very soon!

By the way, I am also allergic to cat dander and rag weed, but dust is what makes me sneeze the most.  Cats, on the other hand, give me hives and rag weed makes my eyes tear.

LATE-BREAKING NEWS!!  Last night, we had our first rain since we arrived in Baghdad.  Of course, it was nothing like the big storms we get in Alabama or Minnesota or Massachusetts, but it had lightning and thunder — and the best part, it cleaned the air of all that dust.  I think today will be only a three-sneezer.

By reading my title, you’re probably thinking I’m going to complain. You would be right.  However, I’m not going to complain about people.

Since, I’ve been here I’ve realized two more things:  I hate sand and I hate rocks.

When I was in Kuwait, I thought…sand is everywhere!! I don’t know if I can deal with this, but I figured I would have to.

Now that I’m actually in Baghdad, there’s not much sand here but there are a ton of rocks. While walking to my CHU, while walking to the bathrooms, while walking to the dinner facility, and while walking to visit my battle buddies, all I see are rocks. I trip over them. They get caught in my boots. I’m already tired of them, but I have to learn to deal with them. I have months to go and I know these annoying little rocks are not going anywhere.

Well, now I’m done complaining. Until next time…stay positive.

DISCLAIMER: Although all of my blogs have been complaints. I promise I will blog about something positive soon.

(MODERATOR’S NOTE:  Though her blogs have been complaints, SGT Anderson is actually quite friendly in person.)

While SPC Brittany Gardner has been laid up with a sore toe, she has used her time to bring a little bit of art into the world. 

Her first subject was PFC James Clifton, the unit guidon bearer, in his most frequent position…getting to the front of the formation before LTC Perez can yell, “Clifton, where’s my guidon?!?”.

She never told me she had talent in drawing caricatures, but you can see below the first of what I hope will be many contributions to the blog.

The motto for the press desk occupants from the 126th PAOC, the unit we replaced, was “The Mission Sustains Me”.  This was applied to everything.  I thought it was just a funny statement used as sarcasm, but after being here and working the desk for the last two or three weeks, the mission definitely sustains me. 

It’s quite ironic.  I think about work in my Containerized Housing Unit (CHU), in the laundry facilities, in the gym, in the dining facility, after the duty, and even on my day off.  I’ve found myself going lying in bed at the end of the day wondering how to get to the internet to make sure something was done at the office. 

I find myself getting consumed with the loads of work in the e-mail inbox, forgetting it was time to go eat or go home.  When someone asks me to go eat, I respond with “I don’t need food, the mission sustains me.”  LT you need to go to the gym, “I don’t need to go the gym, the mission sustains me.”  LT it’s time to go home.  “Home I don’t need to rest, the mission sustains me.” 

Once it was just phrase, but you get so wrapped up in your mission so much so that the mission becomes you.  Now I understand where CPT Calio was coming from.

“THE MISSION SUSTAINS ME”

UNTIL NEXT TIME…

Check Out the New Language Page
BlogsOverBaghdad.com now has a page dedicated to language.  Check it out in the Schools section.  The page is called “Speaking Iraqi Arabic”.

Arabic Speakers Around the World
Every day here in Baghdad we encounter people who speak Arabic as their primary language.  Luckily for us, they also speak English (or at least they speak English a lot better than I speak Arabic).  Since we are here in their country, I am making an attempt to learn Iraqi Arabic, which is spoken here in Baghdad.  Ali, one of the tranlators on our Iraqi Media Engagement Team, says that there are very distinct dialects of Iraqi Arabic spoken in different regions of the country, just like the English spoken in the southern part of the United States is often different than that spoken in New England.  He said that the “reference” Arabic is the one that is closest to the Arabic used in the Koran, the holy book of Muslims. 

It is estimated there are more than 230 million native speakers of all dialects of Arabic around the world. The language is spoken by a mjority in: Algeria, Bahrain, Egypt, Gaza Strip, Iraq, Jordan, Kuwait, Lebanon, Libya, Mauritania, Morocco, Oman, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Sudan, Syria, Tunisia, United Arab Emirates, West Bank, and Yemen. 

The nation with the most speakers is Egypt (more than 65 million); Iraq has the fourth most speakers (nearly 19 million). However, many Western countries have a sizeable minority of Arabic speakers in their population, including France (1.4 million), Argentina (1 million) and even the United States (nearly 200,000).

Arabic Speakers in the U.S. Army
Many U.S. soldiers who serve in Iraq are either native speakers, or have been trained by the Department of Defense. They often serve as translators, linguists, analysts or military intelligence specialists. In addition, the U.S. military and State Department hire local Iraqis to serve as translators and linguists.

Even soldiers who are not formally trained to speak Iraqi Arabic are given opportunities to learn to speak the language. The U.S. Embassy in Baghdad offers informal classes in the evening that soldiers can attend. The classes meet in the evening when soldiers have free time.

SPCs Lee and Gardner are both taking this class, and are available to help you if you have questions about Iraqi words (they might have to ask their instructor for help with tough questions).  You can contact them by either submitting a request on the Contact page or by adding a comment to one of their blog posts.

In addition to the classes, the local military radio station (called Armed Forces Network) has public service announcements that help soldiers learn simple words and phrases. If you visit the “Speaking Iraqi Arabic” page on this blog, you can listen and practice some basic phrases.

When SGM Falardeau brought the idea of a blog site, I was kind of excited about it because it was something that I had considered creating long before he presented the idea to the unit.  I figured since the operational tempo in Iraq had slowed and the word from our sister unit on the ground here was that there’s not much to do here, we’d be pretty much stationery.  Much to my chagrin, I find myself working in the Media Operation Center at the Press Desk for 13-14 hours a day.

I had plans of blogging maybe twice a week.  I think I’ve logged on to the website maybe twice since I’ve been in Iraq.  There’s always something going on at the Press Desk between following up on a report, sending out a response to a query by a reporter, going to a meeting, or preparing documents for someone to use for interviews.  It’s kind of ebb and flow, but when it’s up, it’s really up. 

I’m just glad I had the opportunity to check right now.  Our commander has made it a point to stop by the press desk to check on his troops that he’s separated from.  I’m pretty sure from everything the last occupants of the press desk said about their commander, he didn’t stop by to visit or eat lunch with them at all.  This is the most professional and top notch officer that I’ve had the pleasure to work or be associated with.  I’m definitely taking a few things from his leadership style to put in my kit bag for the future.

Working at the press desk is high visibility.  Since I’ve been here, I think I’ve seen at least a different General Officer every week.  There are a host of other high-ranking officials on this side of the IZ.  However, I think I’m the lowest-ranking officer on this entire compound.  There are not many NCOs over this way either.  I think SGT McSwain and SPC Kyle are lowest ranking Soldiers on this entire compound.  It’s not a bad thing, but a testament to the work ethic, attitude and ambition of these two young Soldiers.  I think everybody here knows who both of these young men are.  They may not know the two by face, but I’m sure people definitely know their names.  Their work precedes them.  Keep up the good work fellas.

I’ve gotten two haircuts since I’ve been in Iraq.  I’ve definitely been pleased with them both.  I was kind of skeptical at first, but of course you know I did my research.  I was led to a barbershop near the PX.  It was an AAFES barbershop, so that was not a good sign.  No offense AAFES, but you don’t always consider that all servicemembers don’t wear high and tights.  I really wanted to see someone else who had already gotten a cut from the barbers I had been led to, but when I got there it was packed. 

At that point I was relieved.  Normally, when you show up to a barbershop, you hope it’s not packed so you don’t have to wait.  In this case, I was glad because that meant the guys cutting had to be pretty good to have such a clientele waiting to be cut.  When I sat in the chair, I explained to the barber what I wanted and he immediately knew what I was talking about.

As he was cutting, I attempted to close my eyes and take a nap like I always do at the barbershop while getting my haircut.  I couldn’t this time because I was under new care, so I had to make sure everything was going according to the script.  After lining me up with the clippers, he pulled out his razor which I asked for previously.  He was great with the razor as well, so I was definitely pleased when I got up from the chair. 

There was something going on in the chair next to me that I was anxious to peak at.  I heard of MAJ Lopez talk about it before, but I had never seen myself.  The guy next to me was get his ears and faced plucked or threaded.  I’m not sure what it’s called, but it looked quite interesting.  After he got up, I asked about it because the technique looked cool.  I think I’m going to try it once or twice before I leave.

I can’t say I’m going to be a regular, but I promise to check back ever so often to give an update!

UNTIL NEXT TIME….

These days there is a lot of talk among soldiers about the right sleeve on their uniform — specifically about a patch, or lack of one. When a soldier deploys to a combat zone for more than 30 days, he or she is authorized to wear a combat patch on their right sleeve.

You might think that EVERY soldier these days has deployed and earned the right to wear that patch, but the truth is that there are still many soldiers who have not. Take me, for instance. Until I was chosen to deploy with the 314th PAOC in October, I had never deployed to a combat zone in my nearly 28 years of service. I was not hiding out…I just never did.

I try not to judge people without combat patches, since it’s tough to know all the reasons why someone might not have one. I know plenty of good soldiers who just have not been in the right place at the right time to get the chance — and they do their job very well. However, I do hope that all soldiers have the chance.

It seems to me that any soldier who has trained to a job would want to test their abilities under realistic conditions. For me, it was more than that. In my position at the Army Reserve Command, I am responsible for overseeing the deployment of all of the enlisted soldiers in the Army Reserve’s 34 Public Affairs units (and others who serve in commands and other varied locations). That has posed two challenges for me.

The first challenge is that I wanted soldiers to listen to me and take my advice seriously. I’ve talked to many people who have been deployed, read about the latest Public Affairs challenges, and attended plenty of conferences where the topic was front and center. I had always hoped that was enough to grab the attention of those I was chosen to serve — and impress upon them the information that would make them better at their job, or possibly save their life.

I don’t think you need to have a combat patch to get a soldier’s attention as he or she heads out on the tarmac to get onto a charter flight to Iraq, but it sure helps.

It comes down to a credibility issue, especially when you are talking to a specialist who is deploying for her second time, or a staff sergeant on his third trip to CENTCOM.

The second challenge is that I was not sure all that advice was correct. No matter how much I heard second hand, I need to be able to speak with my own voice. I felt that I had to deploy to be able to understand on some deeper level what I was asking all these young soldier to do — to put their lives on hold, put themselves in harm’s way, and tell the story of service members to the American public and the rest of the world.

For the 16 months I had served at the Army Reserve Command, I had that voice in the back of my head. But, that changed today — our 31st day in CENTCOM. Today our soldiers assembled and LTC Perez and I led a ceremony that is a right of passage for soldiers — placing a combat patch on the right sleeve.

For some, the event was a repeat of one they had done before. 1SG Glassford is on his third deployment, and the commander as well. Several others are on their second. For me, however, it was a first. When the commander called me to post (come to the front of the formation and report to him), this was my moment. He took a Multi-National Forces - Iraq patch out of his packet and placed it on my right sleeve.

Did I feel any different at that exact moment? Not really. I think I felt different a couple months ago when I made the commitment to myself to learn all I could during the following year, and to pass on that information to Army Reserve soldiers with my own voice.

After my patch, the commander placed patches on more than a dozen other soldiers who were sharing this new experience with me. For some, there were smiles of happiness; for others, it was a solemn moment. For all, however, I think it was just another opportunity to know we were in this together. Thanks to PO2 Andre Rhoden from Armed Forces Network, we have photos of the event.

Each one of the soldiers in the 314th PAOC/CPIC has his or her own work computer which is connected to the military server. Since they are “official” military computers, there are limitations to what they can do. For instance, those computers cannot display our blog site.

However, we also have one computer in the office that is shared by all the soldiers since it is connected to something called the Baghdad Forum. We use it to things like visit the blog site, view Facebook and MySpace pages, and to listen or view streaming audio or video from news organizations.

The Baghdad Forum computer is also the only one in the office that allows the use of USB devices — including stick drives and digital cameras. Because of that this lone computer’s desktop is cluttered with ALL kinds of stuff.

Tonight, I sat down to try to clean it all up when I came upon a couple of VERY funny pictures of our own 314th soldiers “hamming it up.” The only thing I have to say is this — don’t leave pictures on community computers unless you want them to end up on the blog site. Enjoy!

An update:

In the short couple of weeks since I’ve been here, I’ve:

1. learned a few phrases in Arabic and Spanish
2. learned how to play Dominoes
3. completed my taxes
4. completed about four Army Correspondence Courses
5. set up a savings plan for myself
6. tried new things: Hookah and Iraqi tea
7.  had a ‘hard mass’ removed from my foot
8. developed confidence in my public affairs skills
9. got promoted to Specialist

And last but not least:

   10.    made life-long good friends

So, for a few weeks now I’ve had a little dilemma……”Betty”.  Let me explain.

I’ve had a hard, mobile piece of something (we’re still unsure of its composition) floating in my big toe joint in my left foot. People in my unit joked and said it could be my unborn twin or something insane like that, so they named it “Betty”. Whatever it was, it constantly rubbed against the tendon that ran all the way through the top of my foot causing serious pain and irritation after running or walking long distances. “Betty” had to be dealt with.

Well yesterday, February 3, 2009, I went to the 10th Combat Support Hospital here in Baghdad to see if the good Army doctors there could figure out what “Betty” really was and what they could do about “her”.  After going to the outpatient clinic and mesmerizing the doctors there, I was sent to the orthopedics specialists to see if they could uncover this medical mystery. There I met LTC Sands and her team of soldiers. Surely they could help.

After examining the x-rays and finding no fractures or obvious answers, LTC Sands suggested it could be a simple cyst. She said if it was there was nothing that could be done about it. She explained to me that the only way she would know for sure is to numb my foot and stick a large needle into “Betty” and see if clear gel/liquid would drain from “her”.

“Have at it ma’am,” I said. So…she stuck about three needles into my foot and numbed it. Then, she stuck a larger needle directly into the mass in my joint and tried to extract the clear fluid, she  explained ; it would drain out if it was in fact a cyst. Nothing happened….nothing drained….nothing.

She was puzzled. She said that usually here in Baghdad they don’t remove “foreign objects” from the body because of the heightened risk of infection (te water here isn’t exactly the cleanest in the world). But, after having already numbed my foot she decided to remove “Betty” after all.

I laid there and watched some of the movie “Spanglish” while LTC Sands cut my foot opened and removed “Betty” for good. It was, to say the least, a strange experience. After being at the hospital for a total of around an hour and a half, I was ready to go back to work……without “Betty”. Once again, another surreal experience to add to the list.

Now I sit here in my office at the Combined Press Information Center restricted to desk duty for about seven days. Not bad. So now I am going to go take my moment of silence for the long lost “Betty”. “She” is on her way to a lab to be tested so we can all  find out what it really is. Until then………farewell Betty.

How does the idea of a reporter become a news or feature story in the newspaper or on the radio or TV? Here in Iraq, it almost always includes some support from military Public Affairs, and that support is almost always more complicated than the average person might think. You can’t just show up to interview or shoot pictures in a combat zone; people don’t like being surprised. Here is one example:

A few days ago, PFC Bernat came into my office here at the CPIC. She said a reporter from National Public Radio needed help interviewing someone, and she asked if I could help him.

When I went out to meet the reporter, he introduced himself as Jonathan Blakley, a foreign desk producer assigned to the Baghdad bureau. I recognized his name from some of his previous work on NPR as a producer and editor (they announce the names of the people who work on the shows).

He told me the producers of Weekend All Things Considered, an NPR news program that airs on weekend afternoons, had asked him to get a 90-second story about the Super Bowl in Iraq and Gen. Ray Odierno’s decision to temporarily suspend provisions of “General Order #1″ to allow military members to enjoy two beers during the game. Mr. Blakley asked me if I could help him find someone to talk about this.

I like a challenge as much as the next Public Affairs NCO, so I told him I would get back to him in a little bit, and I went back to my desk and started my search. I knew that the only place that would be serving beer here in the International Zone would be military dining facilities (or DFACs as we call them). Someone had told me once that Kellogg, Brown & Root ran most of the DFACs, so I asked one of the soldiers if he knew anyone from the local Prosperity DFAC who might know something about the beer that was going to be served the following night. He didn’t know anything about it, but he said he had heard Chief Porter from Armed Forces Network talking about beer at the Phoenix Base DFAC on the other side of the IZ. Now I was getting somewhere.

When I went to see Chief Porter, she said she didn’t know anything specific about the game and beer, but she did have the name of the Army master sergeant who ran the Phoenix Base DFAC. With that name, I went to my computer and searched out a phone number.

The phone rang and I asked for the master sergeant. The voice on the other end, a Sgt. 1st Class Singletary, said that the master sergeant had left a couple months earlier. Rather than hang up, I asked her if she could help — could she tell me if her DFAC would be serving beer.

“Yes we will,” she said, so I started asking more questions, specifically if it would be okay to bring a reporter there to interview her about the game and the beer. She said it would probably not be a problem, but that she would have to coordinate it with her command’s Public Affairs Officer. She said she would call me back.

Rather than just wait, I decided to scan the Internet for past stories that had been done on the same topic. I knew that the decision to temporarily rescind the alcohol consumption and possession provisions of General Order #1 had been made a month or so earlier, so I figured someone in Iraq must have said something on the record about the change. Maybe that same person would be available to speak to Mr. Blakley this time.

During my initial Internet search, I found many references to the actual memo that Gen. Odierno signed, but I could only find one person who had said something on the record about the change: COL James Hutton, the Public Affairs Officer for Gen. Odierno.

Hmmmmm. I knew he would be very busy since provincial elections were happening this day. Why couldn’t it have been a captain or major who ran a DFAC? I went back to my computer and put together a short email to COL Hutton, asking him if he was available to comment on the policy and the football game. I pushed the “send” button and went back to the front desk to talk to Mr. Blakley.

It had been about 30 minutes, but he was still sitting there patiently. We talked a bit about his deadline, and he said the story would be on the Sunday edition (and it was only Saturday evening then), so he did not have to do the interviews until the following day. That made his request a little easier to accommodate. Mr. Blakley told me he had to go, but he gave me his business card, and I told him I would either call or e-mail him if….

I went back to my desk to see if COL Hutton had responded, and he had. After a couple more e-mails, he agreed to come to the CPIC the following afternoon to talk to Mr. Blakley for this radio interview.

When I hung up, I felt much more confident. If the spokesman for Gen. Odierno was willing to talk to the media, it was much more likely that other subordinate commands would be willing to participate in an interview. I picked up the phone and called SFC Singletary again. She was busy, but after a short chat, she gave me the number to the Multi-National Security Transition Command-Iraq Public Affairs Officer, COL Wujciak.

I called his number and someone answered the phone whose name was not Wujciak. I told the person on the other end of the line who I was and why I was calling, and he said, “Hello sergeant major. This is LTC Gazis — from the 75th.”

I realized immediately who it was now — a fellow Army Reserve Public Affairs practitioner from the 75th Division headquartered in Houston, Texas. Although we had never met personally, I had talked to him several times and emailed often over the past year; he had even invited me to come visit him when I arrived in Baghdad.

After a few minutes of talk about how things were going here and back in our respective Public Affairs Offices back in the United States, I asked him if he could help Mr. Blakley interview SFC Singletary and a couple soldiers at the Phoenix Base DCAC the following day. I made sure to tell him that COL Hutton would be participating in this story. He asked me to send him an email with details about the request, which I quickly did.

It was dinner time, so I headed out to the common area of the CPIC. Thankfully our fine Escort drivers had returned from Camp Prosperity with dinner. All this coordination, research and emailing had made me hungry!

By the time I returned to my desk after dinner, I already had a response from LTC Gazis — it was a “go”. Not only could we go to the DFAC during dinner the following day, but also his commanding general, LTG Frank Helmick, was willing to meet with Mr. Blakley. This is more than I could have hoped for, and I know Mr. Blakley would be happy.

One of the things that journalists depend on is their relationship with “gatekeepers” — people who help facilitate not only the current story, but also future stories. A good journalist fosters these relationships to ensure continued access to someone who knows and trusts them.

I emailed Mr. Blakley and let him know the interviews would indeed take place. He would arrive here at the CPIC for the first interview with COL Hutton, and then LTC Gazis would drive us to his command immediately after that. I volunteered to join them — partly because I wanted to chat more with my PAO colleague, but also because I like watching journalists work; there’s a lot for us PA NCOs to learn from them.

The following day, our CPIC staff prepared from the first interview with COL Hutton. We ensured we had a quiet room available, and we scheduled SPC Lee to take some pictures at the beginning to document the meeting.

Not long after that meeting, LTC Gazis arrived and we made our away across the IZ to our second interview. The general spent a few minutes talking to Mr. Blakley before we headed across the compound to the DFAC.

When we entered, it was just the right place for the radio story. The sounds of military members feeding their appetites was everywhere. I could see Mr. Blakley smiling when he heard silverware rattling, soldiers chatting at tables, and the food servers scooping up the night’s fare.

All this might be noise to the average person, but to a radio reporter it is “ambient sound” — the things that help our ears and minds know exactly where the reporter is while he or she tells their story.

While Mr. Blakley set up his microphone and recorded some of the sounds of the DFAC, LTC Gazis coordinated with SFC Singletary and a pair of military members who would be attending the Super Bowl party in the same location 8 hours later.

After the interviews were done, and we had all grabbed a container of food to go, we were back on the road. I was dropped at the CPIC, Mr. Blakley was picked up across the street by a colleague to do a couple hours of editing work to get the finished radio story e-mailed to NPR before the program aired, and LTC Gazis headed back to his office.

All in all, it was a good 24 hours. If I had stayed up until 1 a.m. on Monday morning, I could have heard the story live on NPR, but I knew better (I needed my sleep more than having my curiosity satisfied immediately). I waited to listen to the recorded version the next morning. You can hear it now by clicking this link.

Every day in Iraq, Public Affairs NCOs create opportunities like this for reporters to allow people in the United States and elsewhere to hear what we are doing over here — bringing freedom, democracy and possibly football to the world.

There’s a running joke in the Army, that every day is like the movie Groundhog Day.  We just keep re-living the same day again…and again…and again…

…except when we don’t.

Today, on the actual Groundhog Day, I realized how different our days have been so far.  From our sleepless arrival and the unending BaggageFest ‘09, to our transition into our CPIC jobs, to our move from the transient tents to trailers, every day has been a little bit different.  And a little bit historic, even.

When we landed, the first thing I noticed were the trees.  I don’t know why that surprised me, but flying from the barren desert of Kuwait to the Fertile Crescent really drove home the fact that we were some place extraordinary.  For perhaps the first time, I realized why so many have been so frustrated by the history of violence and war in this country - a country rich with history; a country brimming with future potential.  A potential its citizens are currently embracing, as we witnessed first-hand during Iraq’s provincial council elections.  The peaceful transfer of power through a democratic process.

As most of the international media has been reporting, by all accounts, Election Day was a great success.  From the Iraqi High Electoral Commission to the National Police and the Iraqi Security Forces who kept the streets safe, I was deeply impressed by this country’s desire to move toward peace, prosperity, and independence.  Waiting for the final results, I can’t help but feel proud to have been here for this moment, just as I was proud in mid-January, when my parents spoke to me on the phone as they stood in the frigid Washington, D.C. chill to witness history unfold in America, letting me hear our new Commander-in-Chief’s address live via cell phone.

Every day, the landscape of Iraq changes, as Coalition forces continue handing over areas back to the Iraqis - the Palace, Camp Ramah, the Green Zone.  Every day, Iraq takes one step closer to achieving stability and security for its people.  And we take one step closer to coming home.

Every day, the world around us experiences monumental change, from Baghdad to Boston.

Actually, since we’ve been here, about the only thing that’s really been the same for us is how monumental every day seems to be!

Hmm.  Maybe we could use a few “normal” days, where everything stays the same…just for a change.

Just wanted to let everyone know we have added even more content on the Schools page for kids (and adults) about the plants and animals of Iraq. Marine Corps MAJ Randel Rogers has kindly agreed to allow us to not only link to an “animals and plants of Iraq” newsletter that he does every other week of so, but also to take questions about all things found in nature. If you are part of our school network, and you have questions for MAJ Rogers, just let us know. Check out the new page now with all 12 of the current newsletters — including GREAT pictures!

It might surprise you, like it surprised me, that it really can get cold in Iraq.  You always hear about the incredible heat — sometimes more than 130 degrees in the summer.  The afternoon we arrived at the Baghdad International Airport, it was about 65 degrees.  By the time our Rhino (for lack of a better description, this is an up-armored bus) arrived, it was down into the 30s…and by morning, it was in the 20s.  I grew up in northern Minnesota, so the cold was not so bad for me, but for most of the soldiers from Alabama, that is darn cold!

But, those days of cold weather are already starting to fade.  A couple days ago, it got up to near 80 degrees.  According to the local residents (and soldiers and contractors who have lived here at least a full year), the really hot days are not that far away.  By March, the temps will be into the 90s, and in the middle of the summer, the lows will be in the 90s at time.   Yep, Baghdad is one of the hottest places on Earth!   When you add in the humidity from the Tigris and Euphrates rivers, it is going to be extremely oppressive weather.  It’s no wonder we see pallets of bottled water on almost every corner at Camp Prosperity and every other camp here in Iraq.  It would be very easy to develop heat cramps, heat exhaustion or heat stroke in that kind of weather. 

So, to all the soldiers from Birmingham who have been praying for the warmer weather to finally get here, I have one thing to say:  be careful what you ask for!

Your 314th PAOC never rests, so with the help of our very capable webmaster Don Redman at VulcanData.com from Birmingham, we have added some new and exciting content to the Schools section of the site, and also added a new Contact page which allows media, schools, potential soldiers (including Public Affairs soldiers), and just about any other interested person to contact us directly. 

The new page on the School section features some facts that come directly from the military.  Each soldier headed to Iraq or Afghanistan is given a fold-out card that gives some basic information about each culture, the people, their customs, and other details that help to reduce conflict and increase mission effectiveness.  Students in schools at all grade levels will likely find it interesting…and possibly use it to generate more research. 

Similarly, the 314th soldiers are hoping that school teachers and administrators will contact us to start a dialogue with their students about Iraq, the lives of soldiers and Iraqis, and details about the news they read about or see on television.  We will be here for the next 9 months, so that’s a lot of dialogue.  We’ll even post the pictures of each class that joins us as honorary members of the 314th Public Affairs Operations Center. 

So, what are you waiting for?   Hope to hear from you soon!   While we wait for your reply, here are some pictures of the 314th soldiers in actions in January (all photos by PFC Christine Bernat).

We’ve are now technically about two months into our deployment, but we’ve only been in Baghdad since Jan 15.  The time has been flying by. It’s still hard for me to believe I’m in Baghdad. I use to hear about this place on the news constantly, but it never even crossed my mind that one day I’d be here in an Army Combat Uniform. And I really never imagined that I’d be driving around the streets of the International Zone after only being out of AIT, advanced individual training, for seven months. It’s all very surreal.

When we arrived here in Baghdad on the 15th after our short flight from Kuwait, we basically hit the groud running. We dropped off our bags into our transitional sleeping tents, slept for about 2 and a half hours and then headed to work. Since then we’ve been going full speed ahead. Recently, we all moved into our CHUs, containerized housing units. Sounds inviting huh? They’re actually not that bad. It’s a two-man (or woman) trailer with twin beds, wall lockers and little metal night stands. It felt good to unpack our many duffel bags we’d been living out of for what felt like forever.

Not far from our CHUs there are many local shops to browse around in. Most of them sell rugs, jewelry, hookahs, journals, cheap bootleg DVDs and about a million other things. We’ve discovered a cafe that sells Iraqi tea for a dollar and will let you smoke hookah for only three bucks. Lee, Thurston, SGT Leech, SGT Miller and I usually go and play dominoes or Uno. It’s a nice place to unwind after a long day at work.

So far my feelings about this deployment are nothing but positive. My job has been going great. I’ve met media from all over the world. My living arrangements aren’t bad at all. I bought a tv to watch movies and play my Wii on. So things are good.

Hopefully, this time continues to fly by. I do miss my family and friends but I know that this too shall pass. Please continue to keep all of us in your thoughts and prayers, and before you know it we’ll all be back home safely.

(MODERATOR’S NOTE:  You can read more about hookah at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hookah.  Although the site says you can smoke different things, the soldiers of the 314th are smoking only herbal fruits or tobacco.)