The inside of My Tent located in Tent City on Camp Va, Kuwait.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Tent City
The inside of My Tent located in Tent City on Camp Va, Kuwait.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Should we stay or should we go?
So I was geared up to leave on Thursday, but... on Wednesday we were told that we were leaving on Friday rather than Thursday. That's fine more time with my family and in the USA, and maybe a final round of golf (this was accomplished). But ...literally, five minutes later we were told that we were leaving on Thursday again, and then about an hour later we were told we were leaving on Friday again and that somebody just put out bad information. If this is confusing to you blog reader it should be.
So our departure date is set for Friday. Of course we had to have our bags on the grinder at 0600 even though they did not get loaded on the bus until 0900. The military must be thinking let's see how tired we can get our Sailors before we send them over into a war zone. And so we are all set to leave at 1000 only to be told that our flight is not leaving until 1900 (if that happens I think it will be a miracle)So now all our bags our packed a la the John Denver song and we are sitting in a boiling hot room in our uniforms with no other possessions except our computers etc. I am washing the foul taste that this day has left in my mouth with a few Stella Artois beers.
Last week received an interesting brief from a 20 year old Army Specialist who grew up in Egypt as a Christian. The subject of the young man's brief was Iraqi culture. While this Specialist kept his brief perfunctory, I was most impressed that this young man without a college education was able to get up in front of a room and deliver a poised presentation in front of a slew of high ranking military officers. Some of the pointers he gave the class included if an Iraqi offers you tea then drink it. The Specialist explained how pride is everything to an Iraqi male and that if you do anything to disrespect an Iraqi male well then you lose a friend and create an enemy. According to our speaker the main way to disrespect an Iraqi is to disrespect their women. American Soldiers attend to accomplish this by wantonly staring at an Iraqi male's wife, or by trying to flirt with them. The speaker told us basically you should act like Iraqi women do not exist. Of course this presents no problem for me. The Specialist also told us several Iraqi words:
1. Shako Mako= Hello (I remember this from the song Shock the Money)
2. Salam Alakom= Peace (Will there every be peace in the Middle East? Hopefully, but doubtful)
3. Shionake= How are You (Let's get drunk on some Shionake. Sounds like an exotic drink to me.)
4. La= No (La! This does not sound like a very strong negative to me as compared to no. If you shouted la 3 times in a row you would basically be singing.)
5. Na Am= Yes
Last week ended with a lovely time with my family. Of course sacrifice makes you appreciate the good times in life, and this certainly was the case last weekend. I appreciated every second I got to spend with my family. This is a cliche, but certainly a true one. When you deprive yourself of life's pleasures it makes you realize just how great they are. I also appreciate the intense sacrifices that our military members have made over the last 8 years. It is tough, but our military serves for the most part without complaint and many times without a clear definition of what exactly the mission is.
So prior to getting into Theater I spend nine days in Kuwait at a place called Camp Virginia. That is where I am suppose to fly to today. We stop first in Lhttp://www.globalsecurity.org/military/facility/camp-virginia.htm I never thought I would be going to Kuwait, and probably would never have purposefully gone to this Country but for my current gig in the military. It certainly does not look like a very desirable, and I hear getting stuck in a sandstorm is utterly brutal. The primary purpose for this trip is to get some more training on how to convoy. Coincidentally, our last training mission at McCrady was a convoy op. I basically sat in a vehicle and did not do anything, and this is how I hope to keep it while in Theater. Prior to arriving in Kuwait we stop in Leipzig Germany Slavic word Lipsk, which means "settlement where the lime trees stand". So next time I write I should be in Kuwait....
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Mr. Polite
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Finally a killer, but let's just hope and pray 9-12-09
On Wednesday we learned what to do in case our Humvee flips over, or worse goes into water. This training is known as HEAT training which is an acronym for: High Mobility Egress Assistance Trainer (http://asc.army.mil/docs/pubs/alt/2007/4_OctNovDec/articles/52_HEAT_---_Army_Innovation_in_Action_200710.pdf) At the initial stage of the war in Iraq many Humvee were being targeted by IAD's and terrorists and soldiers did not know what to do when the Humvee catapulted onto its side. Due to this lack of training, many of the gunners who sit quasi atop the vehicle were being killed when the vehicle flipped. Soldiers also did not know how to exit the vehicle, and so naturally they panicked which could lead to greater casualties. Basically, the Humvee trainer sits atop a medal steak and can do a 180 degree turn. The Humvee does not move forward, but merely rotates so I don'
When I got to this training evolution I was a little nervous. I did not want to do anything to call attention to myself, or to make a fool of myself. When it was my turn to partake in this training, I got into the vehicle put my seat belt on and locked the door without incident. The operator then flipped the vehicle and the four students in the Humvee yelled, "rollover, rollover, rollover." This is the standard call sign soldiers make when a vehicle is about to flip. The operator turned the vehicle all the way over (180 degrees) and I had to try to exit the vehicle. This was no picnic as the vehicle was upside down, and I was wearing the IBA battle gear with my seat belt firmly secured. The operator flipped the vehicle wice, and twice I had to exit the vehicle only the second time the Sgt purposefully locked my door so that I could not get out from my side. He said I handle the situation well though, and I made my way out of the other door. Mission complete. The key is not to panic in these situations. Unfortunately, one of the older doctors in my company did and she came out of the Humvee balling like a baby with diaper rash. In fact one Sailor in the other Company was stricken by this training due to his claustrophobia that he decided to decline to go on his trip to Iraq. He gave it up, and cried "rescue" which coincidentally was the term that we could use if we wanted out of the Humvee. After the Humvee training we actually got to drive a Humvee. It was not unlike driving any other vehicle except that it is a diesel. It is automatic transmission as well. I drove her about a mile before I ad to relinquish the wheel to another student. As I have heard repeatedly from the drill Sergeants in our cadre (cadre is merely a word for a group who trains people) the Army likes to keep things simple.
It always takes me a lot longer to master things than it does the ordinary person. This was surely the case for Friday and Saturday's M-9 training. For some reason I can't seem to hit the backside of the barn when shooting. I get really nervous that I am going to do something unsafe, and get yelled at so much so that I don't focus on the act of shooting. A lot goes into shooting. There is your aim, breathing, and trigger pull. And with regards to the qualification, you also have to take your weapon out of your holster get it off safe and fire all in a relatively quick time. So on Friday when we went to qualify for the M-9 pistol I was nervous. Unlike the first time I shot the M-9 this time I was shooting in my full battle gear which made it even that more difficult.
On the day of the test, I started off killing targets from 3 meters away. This is not difficult. However when I got to the 7 and 12 meter line I started missing. I did not know that I was missing because I could not see where my bullets were landing. I only know that once I got my score I had not passed. I was one of the only few. I was humiliated and embarrassed- and tired from getting up all week pre 5:00a.m. in the morning. Lack of sleep puts me in a foul frame. cause I know that I have good hand eye coordination. In the afternoon we shot the M-16 which I do not have to qualify on. I found that if I cover my left eye with a patch I can shoot a lot better. For some reason when I try to close my left eye to aim I end up closing my right eye slightly as well which messes up my aim.
With regards to the M-9, after I failed the test a drill Sergeant Price took me aside and starting coaching me. He helped me with the fundamentals. Drill Sergeant Price is a Copenhagen chewing, Southern guy with a thick accent from south Charlotte. He like all the cadre members at McCrady is an Army reservist who was called back to active duty to train us Navy folk who are headed to Iraq. He is a first responder in his civilian. Sergeant Price did not make me feel like an idiot for not passing, but rather he tried to make a bad shooter perform better. He could tell that I had a good attitude and wanted to learn. I asked him if he liked his job, and he said he loved it and that he was going to take great pleasure in watching me pass the test. Well, thanks in large part to Sgt Price I passed the test today and am now qualified. Mr. Polite the man who runs the range and truly is as polite as they come can now call me a killer. That is what he calls all the Sailors on the range. Essentially the only real thing I needed to pass in order to get to Iraq was the M-9, and so I am satisfied, although I know that I can certainly improve on my shooting abilities. Let's just hope that I don't have to call on these skills when I get to Iraq. So long blog.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Warrior 9/08/09
So where does the word muster come from?
Today's joy involved getting our 9mm Beretta and our M16 rifle. The Berreta offers great performance on the range. This is a man's pistol. A true warrior that replaced the 45 ACP 1911 service pistol. The Beretta M9-A1 (or 92FS) is the most tested pistol since the M1911-A1. Used by the U.S. Military's finest. Now I can truly be called a "warrior" as the Army First Sergeant keeps calling the trainees. I sense a touch of sarcasm in his voice when he calls us "warriors", but I don't mind as I know I am not a true warrior and really pray, hope, and expect that I will not see any action in Iraq. After receiving these fine pieces of modern day machinery, we also received about four hours of training on how to fire and safely use these weapons. Safety is paramount as it should be.
It is ironic that the folks who are training us on how to fire the weapons are retired Army personnel who are now civilians. You would think that the warriors who are currently serving actively in the Army would be up to the task, but I guess it is not in the cards. I will say they did a good job training us. I had no problem dismantling my M16 rifle, and the Army staff certainly are a lot more pleasant than the Navy folks who trained me at Newport, Rhode Island.
On a bad note, I drew watch duty from 0200 to 0400 tonight which means that my sleep deprivation will most likely continue. Courty you're so far away from home...
Monday, September 7, 2009
Too Easy
Sunday, September 6, 2009
9/06/2009- I am going to get drunk and ride my motorcycle
Thus far things have been good. We arrived on Friday night from LA after a delayed filled travel day. United is lame. We got issued our "birthing" and bedding. Our birthing consists of bunk beds and there are approximately 40 men in one open room. It smells wonderful. There is a nervous anticipation about the room. Some guys are fiddling with their uniform, other guys are listening to their IPODS. On Friday night I went and had a few beers with some of my shipmates at the bar on base called the Impact Zone. It is about five buildings down from our barracks. LCDR Bryan Cook was one of my drinking mates for the evening. At first glance he looks like one mean bastard with his mustache and high and tight haircut, but once you get to know him you realize that he is as soft as orange custard. He has been in the Navy for 27 years-starting out as an E-1 and has climbed all the way to an 04. He is now a supply officer. Impressive indeed. He peppered us young Sailors in the group with war stories about the Navy as all lifers tend to do, but I found it interesting. Of course as more beer was consumed the jokes came out, and I told a few of my favorites which elicited a couple of chuckles...
Tomorrow, we rise at 0500 to begin our first day of training with our drill Sergeant Gainey from North Carolina. The last words Drill Sergeant Gainey left with us as he left us on Sunday night is I am going to get drunk and ride my motorcycle. Hopefully not in that order .