The "Mike Golf's" Continuing Blog

Have a great Memorial Day!

2006-05-29T00:17:00Z

My best wishes go out to all that are currently deployed overseas.

Today started out sunny and warm in Fort Benning. I loaded up the Family Assault Vehicle and we went to Callaway Gardens near Pine Mountain, about a 45 minute trip. We spent time walking well groomed nature trails, looking at a few exhibits such as the butterfly house and the log cabins, and enjoying the beach.

For anyone who may spend time here at Fort Benning, and has a chance for a pass I think it would be worth your time to go see. A normal Military Admission is 10.00 dollars, but being that they were honoring the Military today, it was free for the entire family.

After the day out in the sun, we returned to Fort Benning for some evening thunderstorms.

During conversations with other NCO's, our thoughts of the current NCOES system is a bit harsh. We're not seeing the good in some of the courses that the younger guys are attending. The renaming of PLDC to the WLC (Warriors Leaders Course) is a top concern since most of the MOS's represented are not of the Warrior set. It takes more than a new creed and a rough name to give the moniker "warrior" to any individual, let alone make it stick. A new name to learn for Infantry, Armor and Cavalry is MANCOC!!! The Maneuver Arms Non-Commissioned Officer Course, which will replace ANCOC in the near future. Can't wait to use that acronym in mixed company!

On my last post I talked about getting myself Fit-to-Fight before I could get my Soldiers fit to fight. I have lost 30 pounds since my return for Iraq, and I've brought my two mile run time back down to what it was before I left. My shoulder strengh is my weak point, as I have constant Arhtritis pains in my right shoulder.

Starting to learn Drill Sergeant modules in prepration for the School

Looking forward to seeing the unit I'm in go from Infantry to Cavalry in a matter of weeks.

Keeping you posted, as I prepare to move onto new adventures.

Getting Back on Track

2006-02-07T03:08:00Z

My first REAL day of vacation. (Monday, 6 Feb) Why? Because it's a Monday and I didn't need to go into work.
6:15 wake up.
I'm starting a mix of Body for Life styled workouts and counting calories, fat and fiber by the Weight Watchers method. (Counting the actual calories as in BFL is not much fun.) I will be monitoring how much protein I am getting in conjuction with my workouts.
Lost 10 pounds in the three weeks that I have been back with a slight increase in exercise and a better diet. No more heavy, grease ladden food from the FOB DeFac (Dinning Facility).
Pre BF - Tea with 1 tsp. sugar (1 PT) and a 500 mg Vitamin C, O.J. (2 PTs - waisted!)
BF - 1 EGG and 1 egg white omlete (2 PT), with 1 slice low fat cheese (1 PT), and 1 slice of Ham (at .5 point), and onions (Free). Coffee w/ splenda (Free), 20 oz. H2O
Moring Snack: Banana (1 PT) and 12 oz H2O
Lunch: Spinach (Free), Grape juice (3 PT's - ouch!)
1:30 to 2:00: Light workout (-1 PT)
3:55 to 4:40: Weight Training (20 min / -1 PT) and Cardio (25 min / -3 PTs)
Snack: Power Bar (6! PTs)
Snack: Cucumber slices (Free)
Dinner: Chill (4 PTs) and grilled cheese (3 PTs), Celery and Carrots (Free)

Got the children to bed. After dinner they did a few exercises with mom and I. Tomorrow is my youngest girls birthday, so I need to decorate her cake. She is stuck on the Disney princesses and wants Belle on her cake.

Took about an hour to do the cake decorations. Wife makes a homemade icing, strait suger! I'll add a point just because I was working with the stuff and I think I got a contact high. Think it's time to chill out with some CSI.

Tomorrow, the library should have our copy of disk 3 to season 1 of "24." Really got hooked on that in a couple of episodes. Finally catcin up on "Lost" also, but it is not as good as 24.

How Come...?

2006-01-30T03:00:00Z

How come when a reporter gets hit in an IED blast and is in critical condition, they get their names mentioned on every news cast ... but when a soldier dies they just say how many?

I try to think positively and when a fellow Blogger wrote about getting issued gear that his unit was not letting him wear, I wanted to write to him that soon, he'll be in Iraq, and he can wear it over there. But now We are back...and I see the same predicament...

How come they issue us a black helmet liner that looks like a PT cap, works better than a PT cap, and yet we can't wear it as a PT cap? I feel the same frustration that many soldiers feel that the ARMY made a decision to give us new gear that functions better and soldiers are not being allowed to wear it because it was not given a specific name. I've been waiting 16 years for the Army to get smart about some of the gear they have been giving us and now that it is here ... it has to sit in a duffel bag.

2 weeks ago my plane landed. I am glad that the re-adjustments are starting to even out. Soon it will be vacation time, then back to work, then to school to become a Drill Sergeant, and finally re-assignment to a new post where I will serve as a Drill. Guess the re-adjustments are going to keep on coming throughout the year.

The Fighting Spirit

2005-11-20T18:40:00Z

(What follows is an edited story version of my narrative for the award of the Army Commendation Medal with Valor for one of the soldiers I work with.)

On a strangely overcast and slightly windy day in July during the mid-afternoon, a patrol I was traveling in entered a town at the edge of our sector on a mission to kill or capture a known criminal. Earlier that day, we had gone out to a few villages to talk to people and also look around in the palm groves for places that the insurgents could hit us with indirect fire. The wind was kicking up a fair amount of sand and it cut our visibility down to about 200 meters. As the LT in charge of the patrol went around looking for the Muqtar (or village leader), the 1SG, myself and a few other guys from the line platoon we were with went out into palm groves. Our 1SG usually tells us that we are “going out looking for the $#!+,” meaning that we are looking to try and find some bad guys, but our intent was to find scorch marks on the earth or actual rocket and mortar tubes. Unfortunately, we only ended up walking for a little distance in palm groves and over rice paddies, in full gear. It was actually nice to have the dust in the air, as it kept the heat down but the humidity was still high.

The patrol was uneventful, and we came back in time to shed our body armor and head off to lunch. When we got back, we got the news that some of us would be going out again. We quickly reorganized and soon found ourselves set-up and ready to head out. We would be going on a road that is the reason that I have to do the mental gut check before leaving the FOB. (See “Thought number 101”)

Our lead element went in before the main patrol to hit the target house, and then the main patrol that I was traveling with would come in and secure the buildings around the target house. Right outside of the town on a small road, the lead element captured a “lookout.” He was watching the road and had a bicycle and an AK-47. It’s not illegal for a man to have an AK, but you can’t just go around town with it. Approximately 3 minutes after the lead element entered the town and raided the target house, we rolled into town. At the first road junction “Y” in the town, the first two vehicles went right. Because of the dust in the air and the high mud brick-walled streets, we briefly lost sight if the vehicle we were following that went left. We quickly moved into position with one more Hummer behind us. At our position was like a town square. The area was surrounded by walls, but it opened up to where there was a stream, trees and only foot paths to your left side. As we pulled into our position we could hear small arms fire to our vehicles right side. We located the lead element, who were walking out of the target house which was to our right. The gunner on the truck I was in (K.O.) asked them if they were firing their weapons at the same time they were asking us if we were firing. We then began to take AK fire from the left side. As the gunner on my truck got his weapon oriented, another vehicle gunner heard rounds coming close to his position and asked my gunner what he should do. K.O. yelled out, in more colorful language than what I’m writing today, that he should fire if he’s being fired at. Then K.O. started to let the M2 .50 caliber machine gun sing, suppressing the building where the small arms fire was coming from. The truck behind ours was engaged by small arms fire from a rooftop and K.O. got his turret turned in the direction of fire and while dismounted troops engaged the target, my gunner again laid down suppressive fire on the rooftop.

At this time I started moving forward to a gun truck that was near an intersection to our front. As I moved closer to the truck, the snaps and wizzes from the bullets got louder. I guess a smart man would have turned around, but I moved until I got to the other truck for cover. When I got to the truck, I asked if they had been hit. There was anoughter staff sergeant there who told me no, it was just close and hitting the walls behind them. I moved forward to watch the intersection. The trucks continued to get engaged by enemy rifles shooting over walls and K.O. responded by continuing to put down suppressive fire on the walls where enemy were hiding.

The staff sergeant that I met at the truck and one other sergeant came up to me and asked if I thought we should clear out the nearest courtyards to the intersection. I agreed and we went in to the first courtyard finding nobody in it and cleared the living areas in that courtyard. As we prepared to move into the next courtyard, I heard the commander on portable radio I was carrying saying that we were going to move forward as he had information that the enemy was moving west through the city to escape.

While driving through the tight alley-like streets, we came to a fork in the road. The commander asked, “Which way did they go”, referring to the enemy fighters. K.O., who was trying to direct the driver then shouted, “Left sir. We need to go left!”

“All Right, Go Right.” The commander replied.

That was a moment when the clock to the world stood still.

The truck suddenly lurched forward right into a dirt alleyway. We were engaged by small arms fire over the walls as we continued to move to the edge of town and K.O. responded by firing quick bursts into the walls where the enemy was moving and shooting behind.

When we reached the western edge of town, we crossed a road and a canal that both ran north south along the entire edge of town. To the north and south were tall palm groves and we set up in an opening by a cemetery. We linked up with the lead element who had followed the fighters to the edge of town and they directed us that AIF forces had moved northwest into the palm groves. We then started to receive AK fire from a densely vegetated palm grove from the north. K.O. directed 1 other M1114 gun truck on the location of the enemy and started to return fire. First, he fired a few bursts at the suspected location and then he unleashed the powerful .50 Caliber to suppress the area. K.O. then directed the other truck to a new position to better cover the exposed flanks of the dismounted solders and teams on the ground.

After the truck moved to a new location to the south, which was closer to a wall that stretched northwest from the village just beyond the cemetery, we received small arms fire from the palm groves next to the wall. K.O. quickly traversed his .50 Cal and we returned fire in that location. K.O. again directed the other truck to engage and suppress that enemy in that area.

The enemy had fled the area. We took no casualties, not even a scratch. They lost a couple.

K.O. continued to pull security over the palm groves and had his truck act as a base for communications to our headquarters after the contact. We went back into the village and cleared more houses when the task force reaction force came in to back us up. K.O. actions deterred the enemy from being able to effectively engage Coalition Forces and directly affected friendly forces sustaining zero casualties during the running fire fight. Because of his actions he was put in and received a medal for valor.

I Dream of Genie

2005-11-20T13:08:00Z

As I read through fellow blogger Ryan Seals’ log, there was a statement that I saw that made me take a moment to ponder some of my own thoughts. Something about his comments that resounded deep within my own mind that I thought should be expounded on. He wrote, “My heart is in the United States, but I still feel as if my mind wants to wander back to Iraq.”

After the war my mind would often wander back to Iraq while I was at my home in Ft. Benning waiting for the orders that would say I would be coming back and then preparing for the deployment when we had those orders. It was in my gut that I had gone home but I had not completed my job. I knew that I would be coming back to Iraq, and I knew it would be soon. Soon enough in the time line of a person’s life, anyway. I didn’t feel lucky to have gone through a war, survived and to be home. Yes, I wanted to be with my wife and see my children grow up and enjoy the simple things of life. I went on a cruise with my wife to the Caribbean and enjoyed myself. I got to take my girls to Disney World two years in a row. But inside, I felt that I had abandoned my post. I felt that I didn’t belong at home to enjoy things while my fellow soldiers were enduring hardships over here. I know that there will always be a rotation of forces, and when my break is over, I’ll be right back here.

In some strange (some say warped) way, I like it here. I have been deployed to the Middle East a handful of times. I always wished that I could have been stationed in Camp Doha, Kuwait when it was still a newer base. There is something about this area that is alluring to me … almost like a biblical calling. They say that this area is the cradle of civilization … but I have seen that there are many people here who have yet to leave the cradle. Yet, I would never want to put my family through living in a place like this.

I know that some of the feelings about not having completed my mission will still exist when I get back home again. I don’t feel like we are going to achieve any new military goals in this place, so why would I want to come back? I guess because I still have such a dedication to perform the duty for my country, even though I don’t believe in the cost it will take to achieve the results. Even with all the acknowledgement of knowing that I can’t make a difference alone, it is hard for me to still be at home when there is so much happening somewhere else. It’s not like the statement home is where you hang you hat. We have spent a year here, making improvements, eating our chow, sharing in conversations and doing our jobs here. Our tents, rooms, huts or buildings have become our homes. We have all created our personal spaces and bought comfort items to make life more enjoyable and give it some normality. When we pick up and move, there will be a bit of this place that will leave with us and be with us forever. Just like Camp Doha was for me during deployments to Kuwait. In 1992, it was a new base and for about 6 months, the soldiers I was here with were its security and it was our home. On deployments thereafter, when I would go to Camp Doha with soldiers who had never been there before, I would lead them around like a tour guide to get to where we were going. I could remember its roads and its buildings and it was like returning to an old friends’ house. That is now a memory, as Camp Doha is now closed.

Unfortunately, that attachment to the past is one of the reasons that I say that everyone who has been here probably has some sort of “PTSD”. It’s not necessarily bad, but it is a sign that we have an attachment to the place we served in.

On a lighter note, it has been a joke around here that I am not the commander’s or 1SG’s PSD (Personal Security Detachment) but that I am his PtSD.

What did you do to MY track?

2005-11-20T10:44:00Z

SSG P’s blog kindly asks us to “all bow our heads and rememebr what a great bradley A13 … was”

I’d like to take a moment to reflect on the life and times of Alpha One-Three.

“Wait a minute … you’re going to reflect on a Bradley Fighting Vehicle?” you may ask yourself.

Yes. I answer back. For many reasons, I am. In June of 2002, after returning from a 6 month tour in Kosovo, I was moved from being an infantry squad leader to a Bradley section leader. I had had the job before and looked forward to working in a Bradley section again. I was given a competent gunner, and good driver and the “keys” to Apache 13. It is important to note, that even though it is written as A-13, it is pronounced “One-Three.” In hind sight, A-13 would cause me to no longer be superstitious about that number combination again.

When you take over a track, you just don’t become responsible for a large piece of metal molded into a fighting machine. It becomes an extension of you, and you of it. If it doesn’t roll, you don’t roll. When it needs work done, you and your crew do the work. When they call for “Red Three” on the radio, they are calling you as a person and that Bradley as a vehicle to do there duty. Three men and machine go down range and qualify together. Up to nine men and a machine go to war together. You learn what makes your Bradley different from any other Bradley Fighting Vehicle in the entire army. The Bradley’s mobility, performance and lethality are all interconnected with the crew … the better the crew, the better the Bradley.

From June 2002 until July 4, 2003 my call sign was “Red Three.” My Bradley crew was one of the best in the company, and we operated well together. That meant, my Bradley was one of the best in the company. When you work as a crew member, the Bradley becomes your mobile home. You find comfort sleeping in the crew compartment, and you spend long hours working at your crew station. As I said, it becomes and extension of you and your crew.

Before the war, it was decided that our unit would not be taking its home station Bradley’s with us. When we got to Kuwait in January 2003, we received “new” Bradley’s with all new equipment. The new A-13 was a clean, strong machine and the crew and I put it through its paces during training in February. She was a hardy fighter and just like the rest of us, she was ready to cross the berm and give Saddam’s goons a taste of the Hades. She rode through the entire war with only a few small, but memorable, maintenance hitches. In June, the on-loan A-13 was turned in to get reconditioned and sent back to theatre.

The Bradley known as A13 that stayed back in the States was picked up by another crew when we returned, as I went on to become the companies Master Gunner. She performed well for them, and its new crew scored “Distinguished” during the last Bradley gunnery I ran in October of 2004. This time, our home stationed Bradley’s would come to the fight, and we packed them up and shipped them to Iraq. Around April, 2005 the Bradley commander of A-13 was moved into a different job within our battalion. SSG P, who had been working for the 1SG and I in the headquarters platoon was sent to be its new commander. (See some irony in that?) As with all strong willed Bradley’s, she bucked against her new crew, having them pull extra hours of maintenance, but A-13 became for SSG P like she had been for me and my crew; a reliable Bradley Fighting Vehicle that was accomplishing missions.

Therefore, when I went to the motor pool to see her, the sand and dust on her charred from the blast that she took, I was saddened. The crew escaped from physical harm and the Bradley had done its duty. Just like any soldier who makes the decision to protect his team members, A-13 put itself in harms way … and paid the ultimate sacrifice in the performance of her duties.

Thought number 101

2005-11-20T09:16:00Z

It has been my usual “long time” since I last my weblog. As I got the chance to sit down and compose something of substance, I took a look at the recent blogs of other soldiers on this site. Seeing their logs actually helped shape what I’m writing about now.

One of the other blogers is stationed right here with me on FOB Normandy. In both SSG P’s blog and Ryan Seals blog they talk about something that happens to a lot of us here in Iraq. That is our daily dealing with the persistent threat of road side bombs; called IED’s by the military. Explosions are something that happens in warfare. Since I can remember, I’ve been in a military where we controlled most of the explosions and the majority of them where created by us. That opinion changed a year ago when I came here for OIF III. (They really need to think about renaming this current operation; it’s giving OIF – The Invasion a bad name and nobody likes bad sequels) Now, the majority of the explosions are caused by road side bombs. Because of the fact that the anti-collation fighters use these surprises attack tactics, (they don’t call up range control and let us know about their plans) it leaves an undeniable mental scar on the soldiers who have to face these threats.

In OIF, I sat in my Bradley and watched explosion after explosion caused by enemy mortars land about 600 meters short of my platoon’s position. It was the first time I had seen an actual enemy “wall of lead” being created in front of me. The Iraqi guy in charge of that barrage should have been commended as he was using his small mortars to effectively create a line of death in the dessert out side of An Najef, Iraq. Fortunately for us, they could not range us, but we could range their protective walls. We were given orders that we were not going to become engaged with the enemy here and that we were going to move onto another spot to the north. One of the Iraq mortar guys friends must have pulled up in his white pick-up truck and brought with him a larger mortar tube because within minutes of us moving back they had that baby firing air burst projectiles. I remember that we were coming to a point in the dessert where all the tracks had to go single file down a slope to get to where we were going. The enemy gunner must of seen the Bradley’s making that move, because 30 meters in the air above the choke point was where the “white puffs” started to appear. I had just started to reach over the turret to the gunners hatch and close it when I heard one of these go off. I must have been the most exposed I could have been in my Bradley with my torso half way out the turret slamming the gunners hatch shut. I turned to the sound of the explosion and noticed the white cloud about 25 meters above me to the right side of my vehicle. As I got back down into my hatch I thought for a second about the luck I had just experienced as the shrapnel all went away from my track. (By the way, my gunner did thank me for closing his catch.)

The point of my recounting of the above incident is so that I can try and compare how the IED treat is worse on the psyche of a soldier than what people may realize. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder has become a joke to some as it is used explain strange actions of Hollywood characters and in criminal cases will be used by defense attorney’s a legitimate reason for defendants to get mental hospital sentences instead of the federal penitentiary @$$ poundings they may deserve. I think that all soldiers get it to some degree, but what makes it different from one individual to the next is how they deal with it. What kind of mental tools do they have that can keep it in check, so when the thoughts of the unknown linger back into the mind, a person can push those thoughts aside and move on. Over here, the surprise and the violence that could be created by a single blast are the root of the unknown. It is true that armies have always used surprise to initiate attacks but when every attack on you becomes a surprise attack then you can never get over the fear of the unknown. It is a haunting deep inside the back of your mind that makes you take a moment as you are preparing to go out the wire … what if. You can always be vigilant when you outside of the FOB, but you can never be prepared for a surprise all the time. That “what if” becomes worse once you’ve known someone who has been on a patrol that has been hit. The voice becomes louder once you’ve been on a patrol that has been hit. The voice is pretty darn screaming loud once you’ve been in a vehicle that has been hit. I thank my Lord in hopes that I won’t ever be in an incident that makes that voice get any louder.

I usually ride in M1114 Hummers when I go out the gate, but in my capacity I also protect the 1SG when he goes out, so sometimes I ride in a venerable M113 track “ambulance.” Every now and then I get to ride in a Bradley. That’s funny being that I’m the Bradley Master Gunner. I find that I have I new step to my pre-departure checks as I get into a Hummer or M113. For some reason, it helps if I just take a moment to look at the seat where I’ll be sitting and push any unknowns out of my mind. It’s not easy as there are at least 100 different doubts that have to be pushed aside. It’s like spinning the roulette wheel in Vegas … 37 to 1 that it’s going to nail my seat. Okay, maybe that is a bad example, as I’ve gotten pretty good at roulette on a video game I played. Make that thought number 101.

Return. Back in the land of the sand.

2005-10-22T08:12:00Z

So there I was geting so rest after traveling in Iraq in trucks, buses and planes. Later that day...

I awoke from my slumber to see a Capt near my bunk saying that there were seats on a patrol going to Normandy. It was nice to see him, as he was once a LT in my company, but there was hardly time for pleasentries as I wasn't going to miss my chance to get out of the tent I was in and back to where my own bunk was. I quickly gathered my stuff and walked out into the darkness searching for my ride.

It cam in the form of a patrol of Hummers going to the FOB, probably on there way from anougther patrol. They let us load up our bags and gave us a quick brief, then we loaded up. I got in my second favorite seat, the one right behind the driver, and we headed out for our 30 minute ride.

The moon was bright and the air was thick with a storm that was ready to come in, but just couldn't. Everything was familiar, but at the same time I noticed little differences, or maybe just things I hadn't noticed before as we made our way back.

The ride was uneventful and I was soon back to my room, after getting a brief greeting from everyone who saw me. Now it's back to doing paperwork for the next week as I have to finish up awards and NCO evaluations that are now due. Oh, Joy. :(

Rest, Recreation and Return.

2005-10-17T08:33:00Z

All good things must come to an end, unfortuantly. The end of mine began a few days ago and is still continuing. One of the most awe inspiring moments for me as a soldier was when we left the Atlanta Airport. There were a bunch of us leaving USO and going through the main terminal. As we walked through, we were surrounded by a standing ovation all of them complete strtangers. I've come home to see family members gathered in a Field House or a gym to welcome home the soldier, but these were ordinary Americans who were waiting to go about their business or finish their coffee. It was one of the most unique experiences in my life in the military.

We flew across the Atlantic, refueled and flew into Kuwait. After an hour wait cramed on buses and anoughter hour long ride, we returned to Ali Asaulim (sp) Air Base. After anoughter long pause we were given a briefing, reclaimed some of the equipment that we had left there durring our R and R, and finally issued a tent to sleep. After 4 formations and two days of delays, we found ourselves on a cramped bus, waiting again, for hours to board our plane up north.

Ali Asalim is growing to now include a Subway, a Hot Dog stand, a donut stand and an ice cream stand. The fair prices you have to pay for the stuff really are not worth it as you can get all the same food in the chow hall. For example; at breakfast, they have donuts. Thy serve chow 4 times a day, so my advice is stay away from the $2.50 bag of fries and just go to the chow hall for free. Also in the chow hall, look for the Nescafe machine! The chapel is new, and the PX is getting a building which should be ready shortly. There are also Hajji shops for sewing and for rugs, carpets and plaques.

No Uncle Frosties, though! A staple of living on Camp Doha is gone just like the camp itself is gone. There is tale of one at Camp Arifijan, but I do not remember from my brief time there in visits in 2003. Also there is no MWR with TV service. What happened to all the TV's that were in Uncle Frosties?! One more thing you will pay for, unlike up in Iraq. Internet (at 5.00 per hour) and they only have A T and T phones. I stayed away from the internet as I knew that I would be heading up north soon.

Now I'm continuing my journey at LSA Annaconda. Dusty conditions threatened to stop my movement to my next destination, but I was able to continue on FOB Warhorse in the middle of the day. It was another long, cramped ride that seemed to take to long, but we made it safe and sound with no incidents. Now I have only one more step to take. Soon I should be riding in a Combat Patrol (convoy) to be back at FOB Normandy. Hopefully, soon. Just as badly as I wanted to get home as quickly as posibile, I know want to get back to my unit as soon as I can.

More to follow [:)]

R and R 2

2005-10-13T11:50:00Z

R & R. Wow. Two weeks goes by pretty quickly. As normally as I tried to take things and pace events during my authorized absence, life continued to throw in a few monkey wrenches. It is good just to enjoy not having to wear the same clothes everyday, and to have conversations with the other people in your life without the delay you get on the telephone or the Instant Messengers. It is good not to look at the same walls that you have looked at for many months and not to have to put on body armor to go to the market. No matter how much you try to make things better in the FOB, there is no place like home. [C]

R and R

2005-09-30T14:54:00Z

Finally, time to catch my breath and maybe update the BLOG. Home in Ft. Begining, GA. It seemed like I got a quick trip out of theatre, as the only place we really sat at for a while was in the customs funnel at Kuwait. But even that wasn't all that bad as we knew that the next bus ride would take us to the Airport. Whew, a long deployment with 8 months down and an end in site. In the latest news, and as published in the Army Times and other news (link to news) that the unit I am with will be extended 10 (or so) days. I cannot believe the fussing that this has created amongst some people both here and over there. (I'll get started on Over There in a coming blog.) 10 days, big deal. We're the active duty guys. Suck it up as it is still a lot sooner than when we thought we would be expected home. [C]

My plan is to take have enough time to say hello to my friends with plenty of time left for my family and to relax in the comfort of an everyday life ... for 15 days. Not that I feel like I need to catch up, more like I want to just live normal for a few days. In e-mails and IM's to the wife and conversations with your battle buddies you spend time chating about those things you miss the most from home. What's strange is the things you miss as soon as you get back home. An example; getting woke up occassionally from the outgoing fire in the middle of the night from the "Big Guns".

Anyhow, I'm back on the radar. So if you are getting ready to go, and have any questions ... send me a note. I'll try to hook you up as much as possible.

More to follow.

A series of thank you’s.

2005-08-29T21:11:00Z

While I have been here, I have received quite a few packages of support to pass out to the guys. Some of them from people whom I’ve never met and some of them with out even a card saying how they’d heard of me or why they felt the need to send something in my direction. Thank you. Your goods have been passed out to the boys.

To whoever started the subscription in my name to magazines that all the guys over here like to read. Stuff, Blender and Maxim. Thank you. Your magazines get read over and over by anyone who has waited in line to use the internet in our company area.

To my family and friends, who have not heard too much from me in letters or calls, and continue to send goodies. Thank you.

To all those that continue to support the troops, who look beyond the headlines and see the faces of Americans stuck doing a hard job. Thank you.

Where the heck did this come from?

2005-08-29T20:57:00Z

Today was a hazy morning, which was a good thing. We went out on mission earlier in the morning and the haze kept the temperature down to the mid 90’s. When we got back from running around it was 96o and it was still a bit away from noon. It makes me think of the news and how the weather people get alarmed about Phoenix, AZ nailing 115 degrees on the mercury. It’s the dessert and you would think that if people were going to live there they would plan accordingly for the heat. I nearly busted out laughing when last week they made a big deal out of Denver hitting 100. It is true Denver is not the dessert, but I remember growing up in the central valley of California and knowing that it would hit the century mark sometime in the summer. We drank more fluids, played in pools or stayed inside during the heat of the day. Maybe it is a lack of caring on my part but the heat is something you just learn to have to plan for. We have to plan for heat that is coming up in the next month. It is a mater of not if, but when it will hit 130 over here.

The news is always centering on the injuries and the deaths of this place. There are soldiers out here doing remarkable jobs under extreme hardships. Hardships that are more than just being away from home. Physically exhausting work doing just the simplest of duties brought on by the heat and the gear we have to wear to stay safe. Mental stressors that can affect anyone in the chain of command. It seems to me that there are three main stressors that breaks the soldier down the most, and leaves me counseling soldiers.

The first is stress from loved ones. Most of the soldiers I have had to sit down with and had to go into lengthy discussions with have been about things that they really can’t do much about. It’s caused by events that are happening back home. It worsened because we cannot take the weekend off to take care of business. The normal yellow and red lights in a relationship that require time to sort out just can’t be dealt with from discussions over a phone or instant messenger the same way that they could in person. I think that it requires an exceptional spouse to understand that and to approach problems in a different way than could be if they could be addressed in person. I truly believe that a lot of the problems that the young soldiers are having are do to their inexperience in communication. (I’m not dismissing all the problems, as some have been quite real.)

The second seems to be what I call the professional stress factors. They are in my experience leadership, the chain-of-command and the general rules of thumb about army life. Because of my time in the army and my openness to share with soldiers, I am often their “sounding board” for all things professional. Whether it is because a soldier feels wronged or there is a new rumor flowing down the street, I try to give the soldier as straight of an answer as I can, without closing all the doors that there are different ways to get the same job done. It is a hard fence to walk because on one hand is the loyalty you have to the unit and the fellow non-commissioned officers you serve. On the other hand you must protect the bond you have with the soldier, letting him know that you have been in his shoes. And if the soldier has honestly been wronged you must make the decision to confront the other NCO’s (or O’s) that have wronged your soldier.

The last main stress factor actually comes from the enemy. The IED’s have played with peoples heads and have changed some of them. This is no small feat to go out on these roads knowing that there is always a road side bomb out there. The hardest thing that I have had to do so far was do the next combat patrol after an IED went off on the hummer I was in. It’s not like riding a bicycle and for some people they can’t just get back onto the horse. There are a few soldiers that had changed their approach from anything goes, to a mentality of: if I don’t have to go outside the wire, why should I. They volunteer for jobs to get them out of being assigned for missions that go out as often as others do.

(Where the heck did this come from?)

I started to write this just before I was on my last guard cycle almost 4 weeks ago. I don’t know what I was trying to relay. I guess I was “venting” for myself to understand why I was having to counsel so many soldiers at that time. The rumor mill was churning, the length of time here was becoming a burden and some young soldiers were starting to make lifetime decisions. The length of time from my last post until now is a reflection of stressors in my own life here, too. I was at a crossroads with my bloging and feelings about this deployment that I hopefully have negotiated and should really have no bearing on my blog.

New Article

2005-07-21T19:59:00Z

I am starting a new article in which I talk more about the origianal Operation Iraqi Freedom and events leading up to it. I plan on pulling old posts that I had put on a yahoo group and including them in my series as I talk about events that transpired during the invasion. It can be found on my page under the Article: Operation Iraqi Freedom.

More to blog about latter.

High: 122. Lows in the 90's

A/C's and generators going down left and right. Advice ... clean filters twice a week! From the mouth of the contractor that checked on our A/C's today, they were only designed to work in tempratures up to 110 degress.

Drink Water!

The flow of information

2005-07-18T22:26:00Z

The last couple of weeks I have been able to get out some, do a air assault mission from a helicopter and help the Iraqi Army nab a few bad guys. But now my unit is back on red cycle again and I’m back in the company communications center. The good thing is that during red cycle, I can get a bit more time on the internet.

That is what I started to do today but then I started thinking about our enemy. They are an adaptive group of people who are always looking for ways to get their digs into us. Hearing about roadside bombs (IED’s) and car bombs (VBIED's) so often, you would almost think that they are an off the shelf item. The reality is that they are not, and it actually takes an intelligent guy to figure them out without blowing themselves up. So the bombs have improved.

But not all the bomb makers are relying on trial and error. Some are turning to the internet to hunt down ways of making the bombs more deadly. Years of fighting in Soviet occupied Afghanistan and clashes in Israel have already taught them many lessons. Some of the tricks I’ve heard about and had shown to me actually are impressive. You won’t find specific examples of any well designed IED’s discussed in here. As this is a global war and the internet is the link to the world, by talking about the specifics of their bombs, I might be actually giving them information that they might not find anywhere else.

All of which led me to start searching for information regarding our equipment and IED countermeasures. I started searching for specific information on how we handle roadside bombs and quickly found out about some of our more sensitive equipment and machines. The ease of which I was able to find stats on a product that could lead to its possible defeat was a little to quick for my tastes. I was surprised that not all of our newest tricks were unveiled, until I read farther about some of the equipment that is not but a year or so old. On a blog not so different than this one was a reprint and link of an article describing the equipment. But the worst part is that one of the replies to the post was a soldier writing in asking if anyone could help him find a spare part for the equipment. Not exactly the channel I would have chosen … which brings me to my advice.

Please be careful about what you blog / write about in relation to your tactics and your equipment. There is already enough information out there for people to look up without us talking about it by name in our web pages.

High: 124 degrees. Low: It is 2 AM at night and it still feels hot ouside.