Blather

Ali Al Saleem Tuesday, April 20, 2010
What a day! Monday I went to the port on a mission. Started out badly, but improved well enough. Came back, ate lunch early, then took myself to the TMC. The really nice gal who talked to me looked at my lump, the "back bump" of the title above. She took notes, then got two more doctors, a lady Captain and a nice LTC Doc. They poked and prodded a bit, then decided I need to go to Arifjan, in Kuwait. But before they'd make the phone call, I needed a ride. So I went to MTC and was told I could go that evening. I scurried back to the TMC, and the LTC made the phone call to Kuwait. Then I went back to MTC and gave them my LOA and CAC card, yadda yadda. Then I went to the office and let Tommy know where I was going. I borrowed Johnny's lightweight vest. We had some chow, then back to the office to send Richie and Pense and Schaffe an email. I had told Dyn that the TMC wanted me to get the cyst removed. David asked where and sent me the forms I'd need. So I have ignored his email just yet, though I'll try to get as much info as I can when I get the thing done.

Came back to my hooch, after picking up laundry. I had two hours till the helo show time, so I took a shower and packed. Then I repacked because I wanted to bring an extra shirt and it wouldn't fit with the laptop. When I put the laptop in its own bag, I had room in my backpack for the shirt and the shower shoes, plus my blood-sugar thing. I ran into Jared by the MTC and he and I went to his office and schmoozed a bit. Then he took me to the helipad. First there were large pipes on the helo, then there weren't. Then there were and then there weren't, again. The Chinooks were early by a half hour. We made a quick stop at Umm Qasr's south port, then a longer, slow ride, not very high up, to Ali Al Saleem. Another soldier and I got off there, but there was no one to meet us. We didn't know what to do, but experience kicked in- we walked away from the helos out to the edge of the pad and waited. Fifteen minutes later, one of the guys from the helo walked out and told us that they couldn't leave until they knew someone had come to pick us up. Then he returned to the helo. So we chatted, with “whuppa-whuppa” noise in the background for another 45 minutes or so, when we saw a bus on the far side of the pad. We trudged over there and a very low-ranking Air Force guy drove around awhile. I'm not sure he knew where he was going. He asked where we were going. We told him the passenger terminal. So he went somewhere that had a control tower, but no one was there. We further explained, “The place with big tents, numbers one, two and three.” That helped him, so he took us where we needed to go. A nice kid, but just about the least competent military guy I've run into yet.

Inside the tent, I talked with the contractor at the “contractor desk.” I explained that I wanted to go to Arifjan. He said I needed a visa and that it would cost me $15 and be ready that evening at 1730, about 17 hours away. I paid the money and asked if there were a faster way. He said I could talk to the base commander. So I paid and found my way to billeting where my CAC card got me a luxurious suite. Actually I got a bunk. I parked my gear and walked to the PX where I bought a blanket and pillow for $14 and came back to my bed in tent P-7. I parked my stuff on the floor next to me and played a game of Hearts on the laptop. I shut the laptop and snuggled into my blanket around two in the morning.

About nine AM I woke up. But I didn't get up, rolling over for some missed sleep. At ten I woke up, went to the latrine and came back to type this. I believe this will have to remain resident on my laptop until I can get to someplace that lets me get online. I have a thumb drive, but the MWR computers don't let us use thumb drives. In a bit, I'll take myself over to the McDonalds and see what I want for brunch. Maybe I'll find a newspaper, something that's common here but almost unavailable in Bucca.

All this and I still haven't even gotten to Arifjan.

Ali Al Saleem 04202010 1620

Got a Big Mac meal, ate it in the shade of a trailer near the compound where Subway, McDonald's, et al vend their wares. The well-worn picnic table held my newspaper and I munched the burger with a very tasty diet Coke. I wandered back towards tent P-7 and visited the men's latrine before arriving at my luxurious suite. OK, my bunk. I read the paper a bit, then dropped off to sleep, with my $14 of blanket and pillow. Off and on, I dozed until about 1600 when the call of nature made me put on my boots and visit the men's latrine one more time. I'll pack up, take myself to Tent Two and see if my visa is ready so I can take the 1800 bus to Arifjan. Then I'll do the process again- look for the hosipital, find a transient billet and see if I can get some food and sleep for the next day. One small advantage- if I have to wake up early, I'll have time to buy an alarm clock, one item I neglected to pack.

Outside, it's over 100 degrees, but it doesn't feel too bad. As the sun gets lower, this part of the world gets its best attribute- evenings are just great!

Camp Arifjan 04212010 1135

Whew! What a burocratic mess! I got the OK from Ali Al Saleem to travel- I have a piece of paper and a generic stamp in my passport- I'm OK to exist in Kuwait. Not a single Kuwaiti Immigration person checked my passport, but I'm finally legit in Kuwait. That's the good part. The harder part follows: Arrived after a long bus ride at the security checkpoint for Arifjan. I didn't have a Kuwait ID for the military, so got secondaried at the checkpoint. Then they saw I was carrying a weapon. (Hey, I don't feel quite dressed without a firearm.) This caused more consternation. The security folks called the MPs, who arrived in the person of a Navy reservist, who's a CBPO in Baltimore. When he saw my hat's pins- CBP and US Customs, he was much inclined to help me. Mike took me to the medical place where a corpsman-slash-armorer took my weapon and then I got a memo to the billeting office saying to please give me a bed. I got the top bunk above a soldier named Jeff. Clean sheets, a pillow and a blanket were my swag from the linen office. I made my bed, thought about getting some food, but decided that sleep was more necessary. I slept well, waking up in time to get to the clinic. The medic took my vitals (good blood pressure- 127/75) and then the doctors talked with me, looked at my hump, and said I did, in fact, need surgery, but not until the swelling went down. We talked about the hassle in getting here, and they suggested I talk to the Bucca TMC and see if I can't get the problem fixed in Basrah, after a week or ten days. If not, I am welcome back in Arifjan.

I went back, packed up, then went to the big PX where I bought a red T-shirt that says “Kuwait.” I saw a red print shirt that looks vaguely Hawaiian and recreational, so that went into my basket, too. I bought the world's smallest backpack for my Ali Al Saleem-bought blanket. Now I'm traveling with my laptop bag and two backpacks. If I'd not been so lazy, I would have brought everything in my big green rucksack, and shopped my heart out in Kuwait.

Ali Al Saleem 04212010 1410
After a slow and uneventful ride from Arifjan, I got to Tent 5 at Ali Al Saleem. Went through the normal procedure of picking up my CAC card from the clerk inside. Asked about getting back to Bucca. He sent me to Tent 1 which sent me to Tent 3 which sent me to Tent 2 which was the least help of all. I have five hours until the bus for Buehring leaves, so I may go back and squeeze the Contractor LNO to help me with a convoy to Bucca from Buehring. I may have to wait until tomorrow from Buehring, but that's better than having to wait here until tomorrow for the chance of a fixed wing to Basrah. And the Contractor LNO's adamance that I have to cancel my visa before I can leave Kuwait rankles. I didn't once need my Kuwaiti visa on the way to Arifjan, so I don't think I need to cancel it. Maybe I'm just a bit testy because of all the “Go somewhere else” run-around I'm getting. The PFC in Tent 3 was no help at all. They do R &R stuff, so I guess they could care less about a contractor. No one seems to know where the desk is that might know about a helo to Bucca. I'll keep trying but I'm thinking that my best bet will be to bus to Buehring and take my chances from there. Oh, there is no bus tonight. The next one is tomorrow morning around noon. The military folk who know nothing except what someone else put on an old timetable leave me underwhelmed with their ability. Yeah, I guess I'm testy.

After talking with the pretty good guy at the bus station, I decided that my best bet is to take the 1000 bus to Buehring tomorrow morning and try to catch a flight from there or a convoy on Friday. I went to the MWR, signed up for a computer and waited a half-hour for my 30 minutes of time. I sent Tommy an email telling him that I'm stuck waiting to get back to Bucca. I emailed the chitlins an M-W word with the same sketchy story. I took myself over to McDonald's and had another burger meal, chatting with a guy going somewhere else, too. Then I came back to the smoke pit near my O-7 tent and smoked a cigar, sipping a tea I got from the PX. Done with the cigar, I came back to the tent and began reading another John Lescroart book, “Nothing but the truth.” I nibbled a few pork rinds and finished the tea. I'm not sleepy yet, but I won't stay awake too much longer so I can wake up for the 1000 formation. I need a shower and then I'll do some laundry. Exciting details to follow.

After relaxing a bit, I put my stuff near the bed and went to sleep. Well, I tried to sleep. I was tired but my back hurt where the bunp is. Then someone snored. A lot. Then we got a few new guys into the tent. Then the new guys chatted awhile. In loud voices. They only had to converse a distance of a bunk, but you'd think they were on adjacent Alps. Finally I went to sleep. I woke up the first time around 0600 because someone turned on the light to pack up. But about 0800, I woke up for good. I grabbed my shower kit and ambled to the shower trailer. Just me and a dozen of my never-met friends getting naked and wet. You can't be shy around here. I showered, dried, shaved, and came back to the tent in my boots with no socks. As I was getting dressed, a camp employee with a clipboard came along and woke people up for their name. I was already awake and I was on his clipboard. One guy who got woken up was unkind toward the guy. He was just doing his job and it was after eight, not too early.

I put on clean socks and went to McDonald's for breakfast. No egg mcmuffin, no breakfast menu at all. So I had a burger without cheese and ate while a bunch of tiny birds hovered around me. I believe they live there and they remembered me from yesterday when I tossed leetle pieces of hamburger bun towards them. Today, they got a lot closer than yesterday. I think they learned that I am not a threat but a source of easy food. Today they came right down near my boots. One of the little chunks got blown as I dropped it and the one that picked it up brushed my boot as he scampered away. I wondered if I were part of their environment, helping a few of this species to survive better than they might otherwise. Darwin was on my mind as I sat there eating my burger and feeding the sparrows.

Came back to my tent, clicked on my little green flashlight and packed up. I left some fries and a bag of pork skins for anyone who might like them. I went to the bleachers with the sign “Kandahar” because that's where the briefing would be. I sat, relaxed a bit and read my book. At ten, a guy came out with a clipboard, said “You all know the drill.” That much is true. He said we'll meet at Tent 5 at 1130 and ride to Buehring. I had already given up my tent, so I just kept walking from the meeting place to Tent 5 where I know there's electricity for my laptop and air conditioning, albeit with no TV. I've got an hour to be here before we start boarding the Buehring bus.

Ali Al Saleem Thursday, 04222010 1010

Just finished the 1000 brief with the Iraq LNO: Meet at the bus station at Tent 5 at 1130 for a ride to Buehring. Then, since today's Thursday, we might catch a flight tonight for Bucca. If not, then the choice is to reside in lovely Buehring or return to luxurious accommodations at Ali Al Saleem. If we have no helo tonight, I'll see if my Kuwaiti visa might get me on a Friday convoy.

Around noon the bus left Ali Al Saleem for Camp Virginia and Camp Buehring. A PFC, a worthless lump of armed security slept the whole time. Good job his rifle was empty. Got to see a bit of Camp Virginia- the security guards and a sort of bus stop where we picked up one guy headed for Camp Buehring. Got to Buehring around 1300. An NCOC who recognized me told us he'd be back at 1900 with info about the flights. We set up our cot- about eight of us- in a huge 3,000 sf tent with room for maybe 100 bodies. I wandered towards the PX, looking for a pair of gym shorts that said “Kuwait,” but found only some shiny, hip-hop duds. There were “official” Air Force and Navy and Army shorts, but I passed because I wanted some “Kuwait” clothes. Wandered towards the fast-food area and picked Subway, just because. I got a six-inch Spicy Italian and brought it back to the tent. Walking back was painful- the wind was blowing hard, picking up sand and stinging me in the face. After ¾ of my sandwich, I took my pills. Happily, they seem to work well- my back isn't quite as tender when I try to sleep. I've got some antibiotics and a 500 mg naproxen, sort of a super Advil. Maybe that's why I'm not feeling much pain. He also told me to not skip my Lisinopril, so I just stopped typing and ate the Vytorin and Lisinopril. (Pause for brief pat on the back.)

Sometime after five PM, a young soldier came by and told us that with the wind as strong as it was, the flight was canceled. He was also pretty sure there wasn't going to be a Friday flight, either. He gave us all the option of going back to Ali Al Saleem, waiting until Saturday in a place where we have a cot (period; full stop) or staying here until Saturday and then going back to Ali Al Saleem and trying for a fixed-wing to Basrah, taking our chances on transportation from Basrah to Bucca.

I finished my John Lescroart book, then walked the long ten-minute way to the chow hall, since I was feeling a wee bit peckish. I had no idea what I wanted, so I just looked through the glass at the serving line and decided a Polish sausage was the ticket. I asked for extra sauerkraut and got plenty. 'Twas about 45 minutes till they closed the chow hall, so no one was stingy with anything. I took a few brussel sprouts as well. Then I slid over to the salad bar and started with lettuce, adding some tomato wedges and a bit of bacon, then a dollop of some cucumber and sour cream sauce. I grabbed some canteloupe chunks and a paper cup half full of diet Coke, and added a squirt of Mountain Dew in. I recognized no one, so I sat by myself and read the paper while I ate. I brought back a small box of grapefruit juice and a banana, just in case I get the munchies and don't feel like hiking all the way to the chow hall.

Just as I left the DFAC, the skies opened up. I got drenched before I got to the USO. I could have gone a bit further and made it to my tent (hey, I was already soaked) but decided to spend a bit of time among members of my species. I got a computer and checked my emails- nothing critical, just Tommy asking if I'm OK and an M-W word that I forwarded to the chitlins with sketchy details of my day.

I quit the computer, wandered over to the lounge and had a cup of coffee with two Girl Scout cookies from an open box while I did the crossword. The crossword mysteries fell to my lexical prowess. I scoured the USO's classy book shelves, found an old two-in-one Poul Anderson book and came back to my tent, only getting slightly disoriented in the dark. I will read awhile, then put on my freebie eyeshade from an old flight and try to get some sleep- on top of and under my $11 blanket, with my noodle on my $3.29 pillow.

Oh, I am lugging a faire find- a pair of size 7W boots that someone left in the O-7 tent at Ali Al Saleem. I think I'll clean 'em a bit before I try letting my tender tootsies slip into those brogans.

Friday, April 23
Woke up with the 0600 Reveille. But then I went back for a bit more sleep. You'd be surprised how comfy a canvas cot can be, with a single layer of blanket under you. Woke up again, too late for brekkie, so I waited until eleven for lunch. While waiting, I slipped over to the USO for a half-hour of internet and today's paper. Lunch was chicken, a bit of okra (not bad, but a bit slimy in texture), rice and some slightly greasy Indian bread, sorta like a chewy flour tortilla. Actually the bread was quite tasty. Came back to my tent and read a bit, until one of the tent mates said he found a laundromat. Showed me on the map where it was- just beyond the DFAC. I took my laundry with me, wandering around, not seeing anything. There was a large brown building that had a women's latrine on one side and a men's on the other. I saw a guy coming out of the showers, so I asked him where the laundromat was. He hesitated a second, then pointed to a building across the street. The hesitation should have been my clue- he sent me to the laundry, not the laundromat. But I think he knew what he was doing- he just didn't want to share “his” laundromat with the world. I walked to the laundry, where a very helpful guy said he could have my clothes back by tomorrow, but I thanked him and kept looking. I finally found the laundromat, in the same building as the guy whom I'd asked. I went in, loaded a free washer and left. 45 minutes later, I came back, took my towel and two day's of underwear to the dryer and set it for 50 minutes. 45 minutes later, I had some nice, warm, clean clothes, woo hooo!

I came back to the tent, folded them and rested with Scientific American, reading some good articles about brain structures and how they affect things like OCD and depression. The second half of the issue seems devoted to ecological stuff, some I remain slightly skeptical about, but well-written nonetheless.

At 1700, the big voice towers blew some other bugle thing. Retreat? I don't know, but I guess that means you're done working. I'm giving everyone a chance to flood the chow hall before I get there. I'm half-way deciding to take a cigar with me and head across the street to something called Potato and Steak. No, I don't think I can smoke inside, but if I get something tasty to eat, I might find a place to just relax with a cigar before I go back to my tent.

Yep, the tent is OK for sleeping, but it's borr-rring in here. No TV, no radio, no entertainment. The USO is good but it's not my tent. There's a few picnic tables outside the USO, so I might be able to enjoy a cigar out there.

My tent mates told me that the army guy came by and said we could fly tomorrow evening. Well, if the weather doesn't get lousy. This afternoon the wind picked up pretty good, but then stopped blowing. Might be, we will get out tomorrow. I guess I've got one more night sleeping on a canvas cot with a hole in it, half laying on and half covering myself with a thin blanket. Actually, it's not so bad. A couple of times, I found my feet feeling warm and toasty, when I was sure I'd be chilled.

Saturday, April 24, 2010 2255
Woke up with the 0600 Reveille call on the Big Voice. Rolled over for more snooze, since I had a little trouble falling asleep last night. I finally got out of bed for good, too late for brekkie. I went to the USO and checked my emails. Then I took a today's paper to the chow hall, where I read it for about 20 minutes until the chow hall opened. Had something to eat, then went back to the tent and lay down. Around 1330, some people came into the tent- the noon bus from Ali Al Saleem had discharged a few people who were also hoping to get to Bucca. Among them, the chaplain that I met on Easter, his chaplain's assistant and our Coastie O-6. We wandered over to the PX and I got a T-shirt that says “Kuwait” and a chocolate bar. Then we went to Green Beans and I popped for three coffees and we chatted awhile. Around five PM, we went back to the tent. I packed my stuff- two small backpacks and my laptop bag. We chatted until seven, when we sat on the T-wall near the bus turn-around and waited. The sky got darker, the moon was bright, with shapes on them that made me think of “man in the moon” shapes- they did look like a person. Pretty soon some soldiers also joined us, waiting for a flight to Bucca. Around eight PM, a bus came and took us to the helipad.

The night was balmy and beautiful. A dozen and a half of us waited for the birds, laying on the ground and chatting. I lay down, but couldn't stay because the tarmac hurt my cyst. I walked around, enjoying the perfect evening and wondering how a place where nights are so wonderful could have so many shortcomings. Two chinooks arrived, taxied to where we were waiting, and discharged a bunch of soldiers who carried their gear into a conex and were waiting to board our bus. A fuel truck ambled to one helo, then the other. And then all of us got busy, gearing up. I put in my earplugs and picked up my stuff, then the Army NCO who was leaving tomorrow himself said for us civilians to go in one helo and the military would go in the other one. We hiked out to the helo and sat down. The inside was still quiet, maybe because they were still fueling the other one. The starboard gunner was in a good mood. I told him a lot had changed in the Army. He agreed. I asked if there were any females doing his job, since I'd never seen one. He said that there were, though he had reservations about some of them. Then it was time to get going. A whine got the rear rotor spinning, then the whole helo started shaking when the front rotor got going. We taxied away from the buildings and sat for a second. Suddenly we were up in the air. Through the back door, I saw Camp Buehring lagging. I couldn't see ahead of us, but I could see the horizon through one of the starboard portholes. Almost right away, you could see the line of yellow lights that marked the border between Kuwait and Iraq. At least I thought that was the border. Down below, I couldn't tell if we were over dark water or over dark sand. Then I saw red taillights and twin headlight beams, so I guessed it was dark sand. We slipped over the line of yellow lights and into Iraq. I looked for Safwan, but maybe we didn't go near there. Makes sense, not going too close to where a lot of people could hear us, maybe shoot a TOW at us. We kept going, bouncing like we were driving over railroad tracks, with lights here and there. I couldn't recognize anything. In a few minutes, I saw some petty bright lights, like the ones on top of those small generators we have everywhere. The symmetry and regular spacing convinced me we were approaching Camp Bucca.

And so we were. I saw more lights, but couldn't make out anything until I saw some blue lights and knew we were at the helipad. I nudged the guy next to me, “We're here” and the bump told us we were at Bucca. They turned on the interior lights. We stood and grabbed our stuff and headed out the back ramp. A large bunch of soldiers were waiting for us, eager to fly to Kuwait and home beyond. Jared saw me first, grabbed my bag and we headed for his pickup. We came back for Captain Cinalli, Chaplain Crawford and the Chaplain's Assistant, SSG Trammel. A few good-byes to the guys leaving and we headed back to our hooches. I hiked from the convoy area and unlocked my hooch, happy to be what felt like home.