News from the sandbox

My time here in the desert is really speeding by, thanks to plenty of missions to keep us busy. The fact that the days are going by quickly is definitely a good thing, because I just got some news I’m not exactly thrilled about. I’ve been EXTENDED.

It’s only an extra month, and the truth is I started preparing for this news from the day I got here. It basically comes down to a buddy of mine missing out on a one in a lifetime opportunity, or me sticking around for 30 more days. It was my choice, so I made him sweat it out a little…just to drive home the point. It’s really not that bad now that the days are starting to cool off a bit. The monetary bonus helps too.

I’m saddened to report the death of my computer. As I write this entry from an extremely slow government computer, I am reminded of the good times we shared together. My constant companion on trips around the world, it helped keep me in touch with all of you and remind me what you all look like. As I anxiously await the arrival of my new computer, I am hoping that I will be able to recover addresses, phone numbers, photos and writings, but I’m not holding my breath. You may be getting an e-mail from me very soon asking for updated contact information.

I imagine everyone is frantically trying to get in the last few activities before admitting to themselves that summer is actually over. I envy you! I plan to cram all the activities I would have been doing this summer into a couple of weeks in San Diego…and moving my long awaited trip to sometime shortly after the new year. I’m also planning to take some time to do a little cross country traveling to see old friends and family when I get back. I won’t make any promises until I find out what is in store for my schedule, but it will be as soon as I can.

The morale around the camp is at an all time high. We’ve culled through the talent and put all the key players are in the right spot to make our mission over here the most effective possible. The work is getting done, and we are getting noticed for it. Although we still operate in crisis management mode the majority of the time, we have gotten it down to an art form and the guys really step up when it’s their turn to shine.

So, the question is inevitably asked: What do I need from all of you to help make my time continue to fly by? Well, it’s the standard “back to school” assignment. Tell me what you did this summer. Stories, pictures, whatever you’ve got. Fill me in so I can have a vicarious summer and catch up on what’s going on in your lives. A lot of you have been doing this all summer anyway, so you’re excused from the assignment…but for the rest of you slackers….give!!!

Looking forward to seeing you all when I get back. As soon as I get my schedule a little more firmly in my grasp, I’ll start making the plans. Hope you’re ready! I know I am.

Perspectives

I’ve discovered that this “blog” thing is much more widespread than I thought. Although I started mine in order to keep all of you updated on what is happening a half a world away, I soon found that several of my friends had their own blogs that were created for their own unique reasons.

My friend Lesa started a blog as a sort of cathartic journal to help keep track of her trials and tribulations as she wrestles with the challenges of raising two children while her Marine husband is deployed in Iraq. I’ve known Alec and Lesa for over a decade now, and had the honor of serving as the best man (obviously a misnomer) in their wedding in Seoul, Korea. They live in San Diego now, but have traveled the globe together, including a three year tour in Lesa’s homeland of Australia. Her blog entries are not as frequent as I would like, but then, she does sort of have her hands full. Click here to take a look.

I’ve got another friend I’ve known for just over a decade who is an emergency room doctor. In deference to his desire for anonymity, so that he can continue to write candid comments on the current state of affairs of our nation’s medical system, I’ll refer to him by his web alter-ego name of 911Doc. In this blog you’ll find that 911Doc has teamed up with 4 other E.D. (Emergency Department – or E.R. if you prefer) physicians to give a no holds barred view of the impending demise of health care as we know it. It is decidedly PG-13 in content (and occasionally Rated R), but frank and to the point. Check it out here.

Finally, in an attempt to single handedly prove that news does not necessarily need to be serious or even factual to be relevant; my nieces husband Kevin publishes the prolific blog that is “Mr. Heavyfoot.” The entries show a viewpoint of the world as processed through the machinations of Kevin’s mind, and the results are often hilarious. Although much of it is aimed at the people most dear to him, many of the entries have universal appeal.

If you find yourself looking for something other then the Sunday paper to enjoy with your morning coffee, I hope you take a look at these.

T.

Swimming in the NAG

When I was 18 years old I spent the summer living in the bunkhouse of my buddy Chris’ family lake cabin. I had a job, but I don’t really recall working that much. I think I spent most of the summer in the water; on water skis, hanging out at the sand bar, or heading to other lakes with friends.
The bunkhouse was all mine. Chris lived in the boathouse, and some girls from New Zealand lived in the cabin itself…at least for part of the summer. At some point one of the girl’s ex-boyfriends flew up from New Zealand to propose to his lost love. The girls left shortly after that (it was more like fleeing the scene of a crime than leaving), and the ex-boyfriend stayed. Not exactly a fair trade, but he had a guitar and knew how to use it, so we didn’t complain. The bonfires drew a bigger crowd with live music.
I had this other buddy, Nick, who lived on a different lake and had a ski boat. He tended to live life as if tomorrow wasn’t likely to arrive. I never wore a watch back then, and I remember on the days when I had to work I would turn to Nick and ask, “Hey, what time is it?” His answer was always the same…”It’s summertime.” It may not have answered my question, but it reminded me that there were more important things then work sometimes.
I think we all have that one summer that is eternally etched in our minds. That summer that defined what summer was supposed to be about. I can’t describe in detail all the things that made that summer so memorable (most of which involved events that, to my Irish Catholic mother, would be considered capital crimes with no statute of limitations). I can say that the memories of those 3 months helped me define how I wanted to live my life. Working hard enough to be able to leave work behind, and stringing enough days together to make some incredible memories with great friends. In my mind, that is the key to staying content with life.
The other day, as I was sitting in the control room of my alternative workspace in the middle of the Northern Arabian Gulf a young Lieutenant knocked on the door.
“Sir, a bunch of us are going swimming and wanted to know if you cared to join us?”
I felt a crooked smile forming on my face. “Is it safe to go swimming off an oil platform?”
“I don’t know sir, we’ve never tried it before.” came his response accompanied by a mischievous smile that may just as well have been a dare.
“I’m in!” I said, without hesitating long enough to think about what I was about to do.
By the time I had changed into shorts and walked outside I could already hear the cheers, and shouts, and splashing from 4 stories below. As I made my way down the last of the ladder wells, I was psyched to see that they had rigged a rope swing to properly deliver us into the rolling seas below. 20 sailors fidgeting like ten year olds, all waiting for their next turn on the rope…but they gladly handed it off to me as I approached, knowing I was a few swings behind.
It was 125 degrees that day. The water was incredible. Neither hot nor cold, but more refreshing than anything I had experienced in the preceding 4 months. The salt content was so high, I didn’t even have to work in order to float in it.
At 10 second intervals another sailor would hit the water. Each turn on the rope was an opportunity to perfect your technique…or out-do the person who had gone in front of you. The straight swing, the swing and flip, the swing and flop, and of course the endurance swing that brought you dangerously close to striking the large metal beams from which you launched.
For 30 minutes I wasn’t in a war zone. I wasn’t miles off the shores of a country whose people meant to do us harm. I wasn’t worried about tactics, reports, rank, logistics, or much of anything for that matter. I emerged from the water barnacle-scraped, slightly tar covered (think crude oil), and itchy from a combination of saltwater and jellyfish encounters…but I’m guessing the most notable thing would have been the broad grin on my face. Had someone asked me at that moment what time it was, I’m pretty sure my response would have been, “It’s summertime.”

This will choke you up...

The Big Event

Well, the results are in, and Beau and JoJo’s wedding was indeed the event of the decade. Below are the highlights.

Ah, the happy couple. Don’t they both look pretty in all white? Of course a close up of Beau would dispel any thoughts that he is “pretty”.

So how did the face painting tradition start? I have no idea…but it all makes sense after a few Jamieson’s.

And who would miss the “drop your pants dollar dance?” Well, there are too many people in a hurry to grow up as it is, right?

Damn, I wish I had made it!!!!!

7 7 7

I find it interesting that some people believe in superstition and some don’t, and how learning that tells you so much about the individual. Some people believe that luck ebbs and flows, and they can do certain things…or avoid doing certain things to influence how much luck they’ll have. Four leaf clovers, a rabbit’s foot, stepping on a crack, walking under a ladder, a broken mirror…to some, they all influence how their day, their week, or their month is going to turn out.

Still others attribute luck to individuals…as if the universe has conspired to create an interesting experiment by mixing a number of people with good fortune and a some with bad fortune just to see how they’d mix it up. Of course we all know that those with good fortune always come out on top, but we can’t help rooting for the underdog.

I personally choose to believe in luck. Chance, serendipity, karma, whatever you want to call it; there is something about it that makes life more interesting. A degree of romance and adventure. Without it what fun would it be to walk down a cracked sidewalk, or closely examine that patch of clover, or saw the feet off of little rabbits?

I have to add a qualifier to my belief in luck, however. I’ve always believed that people are capable of making their own luck. The desire for good Karma forces me to consider how the things I do will affect others, and often makes me change course in order to prevent someone else from carrying a burdened I’ve discarded. It’s selfish really. I don’t want the smudge on my soul that will inevitably bring about hard times and distress. I like a clean conscience, and although I usually get my way (which is important to someone who falls last in birth order), I at least attempt to do it without stealing something that is of value to someone else. Sometimes I screw up, but at least I think about it.

Today, at home, it is July 7, 2007. 7-7-7. A record number of weddings are planned for this day, but there is only one that matters to me. My great friends Beau and Jo Jo are tying the knot, and it is not only good fortune for them but for all that share their lives. They are lucky for the reasons described in the previous paragraph. They do right by the people they surround themselves with, and on the rare occasion that they mess, they make amends. They work hard, they play hard, they live life well and surround themselves with great people. They give their friendship and trust easily (at least the first time), and make everyone feel as if they are a part of something great. And just as importantly, they stick around for those spells of “bad luck”, when their friends need a helping hand.

There was only one thing that made me consider not coming to Iraq. That one reason is happening today, and I am sad to be absent from what is certain to be an incredible celebration. There will be more Easters, and July 4ths, and days at the beach, and birthdays, and all those other things that I’ve chosen to forgo this year…but a day like this is a once in a lifetime, and I truly appreciate them easing my conscience when I told them my plans.

I hate to be too corny, and I know this will make Beau’s whole head turn red from embarrassment, but I love you guys and it’s killing me not being there today. I look forward to the idea of walking into the house of two such great friends, knowing that they have joined together in a conspiracy against bad luck from here on out. I only wish I had a whisky to raise in their honor.

Cheers and good luck!!!

Watering the internet

All things need water to survive. There is no better practical appreciation of that then the desert. In the spring we saw some sprouts of green venturing up from the sand, and even a couple of desert flowers from time to time – but as summer starts to cook the sand, the colors melt back to their subterranean lairs.

The midday sun brings temperatures upwards of 120 degrees, and the air conditioning mechanics rarely get the chance to enjoy the fruits of their labor. They speed from one job to the next, charged with keeping everyone else cool at the expense of their own comfort.

We do our best, in this compound, to get the outside work and heavy lifting done before the sun comes up or after it has been down for awhile. With a cool 90 degrees outside, we can do anything. Once the temperature climbs beyond 110, lethargy kicks in and we drag ourselves between tasks not completed in a more timely fashion.

On the days when we get it done right, we spend midday in the lounge, trading stories and surfing the net. We discovered last month, however, that the internet often stopped working at roughly the same time we did. That’s when it apparently occurred to one of my guys that maybe the internet was too hot to give a damn anymore.

His solution? Well, maybe if we pour some ice cold water on the satellite dish’s transceiver, we can get a little more work out of it. We all laughed at him. What a ridiculous idea, right? Well, it worked.

For the next couple of weeks we started to pamper the internet. We devised methods of shading it and trying different methods of watering it. We used the small hole in the top of the bottle approach, for the continuous trickle effect. We used a siphon hose from a 5 gallon jug. We even used the “drink water and spit up at the dish” method (which was effective only if you had a quick download). We finally discovered that the most effective and most water thrifty way of doing it was to tie a paper towel around the transceiver, climb the ladder once an hour, and dump a half liter bottle on it.

If anyone told me that I would ever have to water the internet to make it work…well, you know. Here’s hoping that your enjoying waterless internet and (moderate) summer sun.

Final Flight

I just received this e-mail from my Uncle Tom. I've actually received several stories of similar incidences, and it always make me divest myself of all those cynical thoughts of the societal downfall of civilization as we know it...if only for a moment.
There is a certain comfort in being associated with people of honor. Although the military truly is made up of a cross section of America, the ones that stay in for any length of time do so out of a belief in the greater good. I stay because I enjoy their company.
I enjoy walking in the company of heroes every day, knowing if something happens, if someone needs them...they will be there. I'm here to support and lead them because it is the least I can do. The story that follows explains how a small cadre of Americans had an opportunity to show their appreciation. Slowing down from deadlines and busy schedules to honor one of my fraternal brother's sacrifices.
Here's the story:

Diary of A Last and Final Flight Home

February 17, 2007,
0350
I was at curbside at 24th and M, Washington DC . 16 Degrees with a light breeze. Going home after my second week of freezing temps to my warm home in SoCal. Take a walk on the beach, ride a horse, climb a mountain and get back to living. I'm tired of the cold.

0425
paying the taxi fare at Dulles in front of the United Airlines counter, still cold.

0450
engaged the self-serve ticker machine and it delivers my ticket, baggage tag and boarding pass. Hmmm, that Marine over there is all dressed up in his dress blues a bit early this morning... "Good Morning Captain, you're looking sharp." He says, "Thank you, sir."

Pass Security and to my gate for a decaf coffee. A quick check of the flight status monitor and UA Flt 211 is on time. I'm up front, so how bad can that be? Hmmm, there's that same Marine. He must be heading to Pendleton to see his lady at LAX for the long weekend, all dressed up like that. Or maybe not. I dunno.

The speaker system announces "Attention in the boarding area, we'll begin boarding in 10 minutes, we have some additional duties to attend to this morning, but we'll have you out of here on time."

The Marine Captain has now been joined by five others. BINGO, I get it, he's not visiting his lady, he's an official escort. I remember doing that once, CACO duty. I still remember the names of the victim and family, The Bruno Family in Mojave - all of them, wow, that was 24 years ago.

On board, 0600:
"Good morning folks, this is the Captain. This morning we've been attending to some additional duties, and I apologize for being 10 minutes late for push back, but I believe we'll be early into LAX. This morning it is my sad pleasure to announce that 1st LT Jared Landaker, USMC will be flying with us to his Big Bear home in Southern California. Jared lost his life over the skies of Iraq earlier this month, and today we have the honor of returning him home along with his mother, father and brother . Please join me in making the journey comfortable for the Landaker family and their uniformed escort. Now sit back and enjoy your ride. We're not expecting any turbulence until we reach the Rocky Mountain area, but we'll do what we can to ensure a smooth ride. For those interested, you can listen in to our progress on Channel 9."

Click Channel 9: "Good morning UA 211. You are cleared to taxi, takeoff and cleared to LAX as filed."

4 hours and 35 minutes later over Big Bear Mtn, the AB320 makes a left roll, a steep bank and then one to the right-Nice touch. Nice tribute. Five minutes out from landing, the Captain comes on the speaker : "Ladies and Gentlemen, after landing I'm leaving the fasten seatbelt sign on, and I ask everyone to please yield to the Landaker family. Please remain seated until all members of the family have departed the aircraft. Thank you for your patience. We are 20 minutes early."

On roll out, I notice red lights, emergency vehicles approaching. We're being escorted directly to our gate, no waiting, not even a pause. Out the left window, a dozen Marines in full dress blues. A true class act by everyone, down to a person. Way to go United Airlines for doing things RIGHT, Air Traffic Control for getting the message, and to all security personnel for your display of brotherhood.
When the family departed the aircraft everyone sat silent, then I heard a lady say,"God Bless you and your family, and thank you." Then a somber round of applause. The Captain read a prepared note from Mrs. Landaker to the effect, "Thank you all for your patience and heartfelt concern for us and our son. We sincerely appreciate the sentiment. It's good to have Jared home."

After departing the aircraft I found myself along with 30 others from our flight looking out the lobby window back at the plane. Not a dry eye. It was one of the most emotional moments I've ever experienced. We all stood there silently, and watched as Jared was taken by his honor guard to an awaiting hearse. Then the motorcade slowly made it's way off the ramp.

I realized I had finally seen the silent majority. It is deep within us all. Black, Brown, White, Yellow, Red, we're all children, parents, brothers, sisters, etc - we are an American family.

Official Report : February 7, 2007, Anbar Province, Iraq .. 1st LT Jared Landaker United States Marine Corps, from Big Bear California, gave his live in service to his country. Fatally wounded when his CH-46 helicopter was shot down by enemy fire, Jared and his crew all perished. His life was the ultimate sacrifice of a grateful military family and nation.

His death occurred at the same time as Anna Nicole Smith, a drug-using person with a 7th grade education, of no pedigree, who dominated our news for two weeks while Jared became a number on CNN.
And most unfortunately, Jared's death underscores a fact that we are a military at war, not a nation at war.
It has been said that Marines are at war. America is at the mall.

1st LT Landaker, a man I came to know in the skies over America on 17 February 2007, from me to you, aviator to aviator, I am unbelievably humbled. It was my high honor to share your last flight. God bless you.

Lounging...thinking...vegging...

I’m sitting in one of those Ikea recliners in an eight foot by twenty foot metal box. It’s 5:30 in the afternoon and the air conditioner is laboring away. I’ve just been working on some briefings in my office (the eight foot by twenty foot metal container next door), and thought I’d take a little break from the mental labor.

This particular box has been made into our home away from home by the guys. A 32 inch television with a DVD player connected to surround sound speakers sits at the far end next to a small refrigerator. On top of the fridge is a microwave, with a toaster oven on top of that. All of it runs from generators that whir their white noise 24/7.

The walls on one side have a bunch of shelves to keep the food away from our new camp mascots. We’ve also got some shelves for our ever growing DVD collection. The walls on the other side are filled with the classified maps of our operating areas.

The long table near the entrance has 3 laptops sitting on it. One of them is for the job, the other two are for the sanity of the guys. Keeping in touch with everyone back home is what keeps these guys motivated. They are all here for their own reasons, but a lot of those reasons are the people at the other end of the internet.

In this box is where we do our socializing, eating, joking, and on a rare occasion…working. Don’t get me wrong, we have three other buildings where it is all about the job, but this one is where we escape when the job starts to get to us. We’re in here a lot!

Last week we had sandstorms that seemed to start as the sun rose, and continue until a couple hours after the sun went down. We would spend a portion of every day sweeping, wiping off the flat surfaces, and blowing sand off our keyboards. They didn’t stay clean for long. During those days, everything itches. It seems like we are continually rubbing our eyes, cleaning our ears, and spitting.

My guys and I are the fortunate ones. We are safely surrounded by earthen berms on all sides, and multiple strands of fence separate us from the detainees in the prison. Everyday I see the young heroes whose job it is to drive the outside perimeter of the camp in search of insurgents. I see the guys trudging up the stairs to the to the lookout towers. I watch those assigned guard duty at the interment facility going to assume their posts. They are all dressed in full combat gear, which includes 40 pounds of protective armor, a big gun, and a bunch of ammo. It is all designed for protection, not comfort. Just imagine wearing a 40 pound down vest in 120 degree temperature.

I’m happy that the job we do here is so essential to both our protection and the apprehension of bad guys. It’s not fair that we get the adrenaline without the risk, but at least we’re doing some good stuff. There are times when it is tedious, but if my guys complain I have only to point at one of the towers or the prison and remind them what they could be stuck with. They normally respond pretty well.

My compound is located far away from just about everything else on the base. No one bothers us, and it makes for a pretty quiet environment…since I’m the only one that gets to live here. The guys joke about my butt being in a sling if there is ever a mass escape from the prison, but my door locks from the inside and my 9 mm is a hell of a noise maker.

My guys get to take R & R every 3 months, and although I’ll admit to envying them that, my time seems to be flying by here…so I’ll just keep heading towards my “go home date.” I’d rather take my R & R back there anyway.

Hope you’re all well and enjoying the summer.

T.

Summertime

It is Thursday afternoon in the United States. It is summertime. If you are doing anything besides coming up with reasons to call in sick tomorrow, or making plans for tonight, all that we are doing here is in vain!!!!

Camp Mascots

We’ve taken in a couple of pets at our camp lately. Some of you may refer to them as vermin, but they’re all we have. About a week ago a couple of mice would sneak into our lounge area and make mad dashes from beneath the furniture to the crumbs left from the daily gorging. Since we keep all the real food locked up tight, we’ve all come to the consensus that they are doing us a service…so we’ve let them stay.
They get a little braver each day, and the littler one of the two actually sat and twitched his nose at me for about 30 seconds as I talked to him from 3 feet away.
Maybe we keep them around after seeing what the Camel Spiders can do to them, or maybe the heat has finally gotten to us, but regardless they know there boundaries and so far have been pretty well behaved. Our only real concern is what happens when the snakes come looking for them!?!?!
Thinking of summertime, beaches, and all of you. Don’t waste a day of it, I have to live through your stories for the time being. Keep the pictures coming, they are helping me keep my sanity over here!

Miss you, T.

Mortar Attack

The Sat phone has been ringing off the hook all night, and we've got one of those outdoor ringers on it, so it rings LOUD. The rest of the guys have all gone back to their hooches for the night, and since I've taken up residency here in our compound, I'm left to deal with the frantic calls from all of their Stateside bosses and military contacts wondering if they are alright. What exactly are the news reports saying happened here? That the whole base was blown up?
Here's the skinny. Some bad guys with some bad aim launched a couple of mortars (not really rockets) and hit a bunch of the bad guys (I guess I have to say "suspected" bad guys here) who are our permanent guests here in the detainment facility. They also slightly injured one Iraqi guard, but not a single American was injured. Not even a scratch.
We felt the shockwave, we ran to the bunker, and we did a head count. We were doing a mission at the time, and 15 minutes after the attack we had forgotten all about it (well, pretty much anyway). This all happened around 9 am here. Once the United States got out of bed, the news agencies had somehow made it into a huge deal and we all started getting a bunch of e-mails.
Trust me when I say that this is one of the safest bases in Iraq. There are some places that go through this several times a day. I really do appreciate the concern, but I'm safer here than I am on I-5 in San Diego. Seriously!
Hope you're all well and enjoying the summer. I'm expecting more pictures of all the fun I'm missing out on!

T.

These videos are compliments of Thatch

Swear Jar - Not for kids!!!

Back from my trip.

Just got back from my trip. I've got some catching up to do now that I'm back, but here's a little travelogue from the journey:

I’m aboard a 60 foot barge as I write this. I’ve just spent the last two and a half days living on a mile long oil terminal in the middle of the Northern Arabian Gulf. It’s the location where the second half of my detachment operates from, and the lifestyle is interesting to say the least.

The trip has been a much needed escape from the day to day routine I’m subjected to as part of my duties at my home base. I’m finding that the ocean suits me much better than the desert, but I can do my job more effectively from that base…so I’m reluctantly returning.

The trip down started with a helicopter flight about 20 feet off the ground until we passed the Kuwait-Iraq border. From the base where we landed, I caught a ride to three other bases over rough roads before I finally made it to the place I would catch the ship out. It had taken me two days.

The Gulf is fairly calm this time of year, and the breeze across the deck convinced me to stay outside long enough to catch a reasonable sunburn. The crew aboard the craft are made up of Indian and Asian merchant sailors who served as good hosts for the 5 hour voyage.

Once at the platform, my guys welcomed me and treated me to a grilled Spam and cheese sandwich. I’m not ashamed to say it was fairly good…but then again, I was pretty hungry. The control center that my guys work out of doubles as their living quarters, and is perched 80 feet above the ocean. It is accessible from a maze of walkways and ladder wells that are worn and rusted enough to make you wonder if you might be swimming after your next step.

The showers are halfway across the terminal (about a half a mile), so if you don’t get there early enough in the day you are guaranteed to need another shower by the time you’ve made the trek back. We were surrounded by warships standing guard from small attack vessels that may be brave enough to disregard the 50 caliber gun emplacements located in strategic places around the structure.

Earlier today I took a ride on a RHIB (rigid hulled inflatable boat) the six miles to a similar terminal where the Coalition Commander I take my orders from resides. I sat in on a briefing, and ate a big lunch with my British hosts before getting a tour of their facilities. A fire had ravaged a sizable portion of this structure just over 6 months ago, so the quarter inch deck plating we walked on was precariously welded to heat bent steel girders. In other places, huge holes and shell casings showed evidence of abuse taken from this, and other wars. I was amazed that they had created a little city in the middle of the ocean out of such worn infrastructure.

The return RHIB ride back to my command center was less eventful than the one over. The fog that had caused us to nearly run into a couple of ships had since lifted, and although the sun was hot the breeze made it bearable. I made it back in time to send out a series of e-mails and make a bunch of phone calls before dinner. It seemed that some troubles with our operation back in Iraq would require me to head back early.

I boarded this ship at 11 pm, knowing I wouldn’t make it back to help my guys until at least Tuesday. I am teetering somewhere between exhaustion and an adrenaline charged excitement that I’m sure will wane with my ride across those rough roads.

I’m joined on my boat ride by a group of sailors that have been out on the platform for 3 months, and heading for a week of R&R, so the mood is pretty upbeat. I know I should be sleeping, but I’m guessing that isn’t too likely. I’ll settle for a few chapter of reading before we make it to port.

Hope you’re all enjoying the summer and each other. Send more pictures when you can.

T.

The new face of terrorism

SCARY, ISN'T IT?

Chez Flamingo

I had to cancel my trip this week because of some logistics challenges. I was bummed because I’m really looking forward to getting off this base for awhile. We’ve got the routine down well enough now that it is starting to be….well, routine. The trip is back on for next week barring anymore unexpected surprises.

I’ve made a move recently. Instead of staying up where everyone else stays, I’ve taken up residence in our compound. It puts me about a half a mile from the rest of the people, so it’s a lot quieter. I’m living in one of the Connex boxes (semi-trailer without the wheels). I’ve got air conditioning, computer access, and most of the conveniences I need. I’m in the process of building an outdoor shower, and once that is complete this place will be home.

Speaking of home, I’ve received an over abundance of packages recently from the States. Within two days I received an entire over-sized foot locker full of food (Thanks Mom, Dad, Rita, Sandy, Pat and his coworkers). Here’s the picture to prove it.

I’ve also been told to be on the lookout for at least 4 more packages that are inbound. I almost hate to say this, but if you’re planning to send something, you might want to wait a month or so. We love getting it, but at the rate it’s coming in we might have to open a store over here! We can always use some more music and movies though.

Below are pictures of our outdoor lounge that the guys made out of a huge shipping crate. It has been dubbed “Chez Flamingo”. A couple of you know where that reference comes from. Good times!

The last picture is me with a couple of the Brits taking a break from a mission to get a picture with “Flat Stanley”. Connor, I’ll get the little man back to you soon buddy.

Keep the e-mails, pictures, and letters coming. Looking forward to seeing you when I get back!

Flyer's beware!

Would you trust any of these men with your lives?
You better take a peek in the cockpit next time you get on an airliner!

Friday night?

Hi,
I'm sitting here at work, and I just realized it's Friday night. A few beers and a night out with the boys sounds just about right...ugh. Well, I guess my liver will have to wait!
I've gotten a few questions about this blog that people actually think I have the answer to. I assure you all that I am not a tech guru, but I did figure out a few things.
First, I don't know why the comments don't appear right on the blog page...but if you click on each entries title, you can read it and see your comments right below the entry when you finish. To get back you can either click on "Tommy's Blog" at the top, or chose another entry from the archive list.
Second...why don't I respond to the comments? Well, I really didn't know I could (or was supposed to) until a few days ago. A friend of mine has his own blog (way more interesting than this one...if you click his name "911DOC" that you'll find in the comments section of several of my blogs you can get to it), and I saw that he responded to just about every comment in the comments section. Oops, I guess I'm still figuring this stuff out.
Finally, I figured out how to embed videos on the sidebar so you can listen to tunes while you read. If that isn't full service, I don't know what is.
I'm missing green grass, blue water (and pretty much anything that has a color other than tan), and all of you. I'm looking forward to a trip I'll tell you all about once it's over. I've put up a few pics to give you all something to look at. If you look closely at the tire picture, you'll see a scorpion trying to hide under it. The one that looks sepia toned is what the sky has looked like for the last couple of days (talcum power sand over everything), and the one with the storm clouds was taken last week...and we all wish it would rain again soon if only to get all the sand out of the air. Hope you're all well and enjoying the spring.

T.

Click to make them bigger

Send Peanut M & Ms

A contingent of Brits we’ve been working a lot with is getting ready to head home. I’m sorry to see them go…great people. They’ve been taking some big hits over the last several months. The region I work in is the only one controlled by the British, and their convoys have lost significantly more people than ours. We’ve done the e-mail swaps, so I’m hoping to stay in touch so I’ve got some tour guides during my next stay there.

Our temperatures are averaging around 115-120 degrees during the day now, but it really isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. The guys are still getting along great, and despite a need for all of them to blow off steam from time to time, we haven’t had anyone going at each others throats just yet. That’s a big concern living in close quarter, surrounded by the same personalities day after day in this heat.

The work is getting done, and despite some road blocks from time to time they are doing an awesome job with what we’ve got to work with. We all sit around talking about what we miss most about the States, and most of it is pretty obvious. Family, friends, favorites restaurants and bars, and a bunch of conveniences that we all took for granted when we were home.

One of my guys bought a house while he was over here, and another is searching for one everyday on the internet. They both have people at home that are/were able to check things out for them. With all of our income tax-free, it’s amazing what our bank balances are telling us. Who knew Uncle Sam was taking such a big bite. I’m personally buying a Harley Davidson Fatboy Softtail under a special military buying program that should allow me to drive it around for a couple of years and sell it for what I paid for it. I can’t wait!

I’m at the point where I’ve got my head far enough above water to start to consider what I’m going to do when I get back. It looks like the Navy has some jobs to offer me for about 6 months in the San Diego area, which would put me in the position to be able to have a better choice of what I want to fly when I go back to Northwest Airlines (I’m really trying to avoid the DC-9). Before any of that, I’m planning a big trip though. I’m split between the Mediterranean or Central/South America. Palma de Mellorca, Ibiza, Rio, Costa Rica…all I know is it has to have a beach…you know, sand attached to water instead of just to more sand. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated.

I've discovered everything here works on the barter system. If we want something, we have to find something worth trading. Cookies and brownies from home seem to be the preferred commodity...so for those of you that have been asking what to send, there you have it. On a more selfish note, one of those big bags of Peanut M&Ms would make me a happy man. It's funny what you miss out here.

Well, I wish I could fill you in more on what it is we are doing over here. Let’s just say it’s making a difference, and that makes us love our job. Hope you’re all well and enjoying the spring.

T.