Blather

Still in Kuwait's Ali Al Salem aka Camp LSA, I did my emails, went to midnight chow. I got a nap after midnight till three AM. Then we got up, dressed and put our duffel bags outside the tent, waiting for the ATV to take them to the staging area. Made a pile of duffel bags in one place, then moved the pile 40 yards to where they needed to be. The flight guys loaded the duffels onto an aluminum pallet while we went inside for processing. Scan our CAC cards, turn in two copies of our orders, then sit and wait. They briefed us- roll call at 0630 and
"no pictures."

Around six-thirty, they called out out our last names, we responded with our first names and boarded some buses for the plane. A bit of excitement because there appeared to be one body more than was supposed to be on the buses. We got on the plane and waited an hour before take off. This is the part where the stewardess in coveralls told us to buckle up. Never mind "here's how the buckle works." The oxygen mask instructions were a bit scarier because of the possibility we'd actually need to learn them. When the pilot got to the runway, he revved the motors and locked the brakes. When he released the brakes, we shot forward like from a huge slingshot. Every flown a 747 and felt the acceleration? This was more intense, even though we were carrying cargo to the gunwales. (OK, that's a nautical expression and we were on a plane, but you get my drift.)

The one-hour flight wasn't bad- noisy, but that's what the ear plugs were for. The pilot brought us in quick and we went to a hangar where they briefed us- no pictures.

We got shepherded by our meet-n-greet guy, then carried the duffels in the hot morning sun to a flatbed tow truck and boarded a couple of small buses for Camp Klecker. Got into a tent, where we were briefed- "Don't take no pictures." In spite of the ungrammatical double negative, we got the message.

Seems like the awareness is high for pictures. They told us of all the things we shouldn't take pictures of. So until I understand better what I can post and what not, this will remain text-only. Apparently, the Department of State has minions whose job it is to search the web and find who's posting pictures on the net. Thus my briefing to you- no pictures.

We grabbed a bunk in the Hilton. This is some genuine military humor. "The Hilton" is a huge tent, full of beds and contrasts with the Sheraton, another tent. Mine is terrific- one skinny, lumpy mattress, one fitted sheet and one blanket. No wall locker, no foot locker, not even a hook. The male latrine and showers are separated from this tent by rows of shipping pallets on the ground, along which we traipse with alacrity, lest our shower shoes slip between the slats of the pallets. I have one luxury- the bed next to mine is now empty. The guy there just left- he's headed for a helicopter nearby; that's his taxi to his assignment. I helped him carry his gear out to the van taking him to the helicopter. Wow, I see two extra pillows and another blanket. Ah, the vagaries of life! No sooner did I type this, than someone came in and took the vacancy.

Maybe this part is better without pictures- The toilets, in trailers, have optional toilet seats. That's "optional" as in "they ain't there" in more than half the cases. The showers have no place for your dry clothes to sit, so you hang everything from one hook inside the shower stall. The construction makes me wonder what was going on in the mind of the architect. Take a standard, molded shower floor. Attach it to the floor and run some plumbing. Not too difficult so far, right? But then construct a small room, just about one foot larger in two dimensions than the shower. This leaves you with a foot of "bathroom floor" on two sides of the shower. No shower curtain, so splashing water on the floor is very likely. But that's the only place for your shaving kit. I learned to put all my dry clothes on the hook, my shaving kit on the doorknob, and I left my old clothes on the floor; if they got wet, they were going to get washed anyway.

There's an old Coke cooler and a cooler with strange writing on it on a small porch. Each is stuffed with one-liter water bottles. No building for us, just a porch. The building looks like a quick-and-dirty job- plywood exterior with non-standard roofing. It's got lights, so I assume it also has a function. Someone made a two-by-four armchair and another on rockers to go with the park bench. This is the common area, a place where smokers enjoy the evening. Past these tall plastic containers of dirt, there are trailers or "hooches" where some people live. One of the trailers is a laundry. There's a nice Filipina lady who will wash your clothes for a fee. But if you prefer to do your own laundry (I do) it's fine with her. I think she has sufficient business that she doesn't mind losing a potential client.

There is more here, but I haven't been to see all of it. Check again later.