Merry Christmas...

Many people here tried very hard to forget Christmas. For a few, it was just another Christmas in the Army, same as always. For many, it was another day at work in Iraq, but for all of us in some way, it was yet another reminder of all we've left behind.

For me, the day began at midnight, when I went to Midnight Mass here on base. I'd done it once before when I was away from home on Christmas, and it helped a great deal to focus me on the true meaning of this Holiday. It made me stop and take stock and give thanks for the many blessings I've received in this life. This time was no exception. There is something comforting about being around others who are going thru the same thing you are. It's a sense of unspoken understanding and it brings with it a certain feeling of peace and belonging, which is exactly what we're all missing by being away from loved ones. By no means is it an equal substitute but it does fill the void, even if just partially.

At about noon, my neighbors (whom I fly/work with) woke me up to go to Christmas lunch. As with Thanksgiving, this was quite an all-out feast, with anything and everything you could possibly want and then some. The employees of the dining facility, all of whom are foreign nationals (Bangladesh, India, Philipines, Sri Lanka, Uganda), did their very best to get us in the spirit and ensure our needs were met or exceeded. There were elaborate decorations everywhere, and they were all dressed up in their finest native dress clothes. Some danced and sang, some were greeters, some were dressed as Santa, Mrs. Claus or Elves, but all went above and beyond, just for us. I still missed Mom's Lasagne, but thinking about all these people did to try to please us sure helped.

After lunch, it was time to get ready to go fly. I figured the more I had to do/made myself do, the easier and quicker the day would go. True, to some extent, but...

Our offices and halls were all decorated for Christmas, complete with a real Christmas tree and lights all over the place, including on some of the Flight Operations specialists. There were stockings on the wall, some of the office doors were gift wrapped, there were USO Care packages all over the place (THANK YOU!), and dozens if not hundreds of Christmas cards from complete strangers hanging on the walls. On our office door, a certain nameless CW3 with a slightly warped sense of humor hung a nearly blank 8.5 x 11 piece of paper with the words:

"Christmas Decoration,

Government Issue.
1 Each.
Serial Number:
12-25-2007-00000"

written on it. It seemed appropriate, and about matched my mood at the time.

The preflight period seemed to drag on forever. This was going to be just a milk run out-and-back flight, so nothing unusual or overly exciting needed to be done in preparation. I was ready for the day to be over so I could call home and go to bed.

As we walked out to the airplane, I switched into "fly" mode, and focused on the job at hand and for the first time that day, forgot that it was Christmas. The flight out was uneventful, and we got to witness a beautiful sunset from 26,000'. I handled the radios on this leg, and made sure to wish all the controllers a Merry Christmas. It seemed that some of them had also forgotten, and were glad to hear the reminder.

We landed, took on fuel, loaded our passengers and taxied back out to head "home". I was flying the airplane for the last leg. We climbed up to 29,000' and settled in for the hour and a half flight. Once the climb portion of the flight is complete, there really isn't much to do in the cockpit, so once again I was alone with my thoughts. Tonight my thoughts weren't of what was going on in the towns and villages below (as they normally were), but of what might be going on back at home. What was everyone doing, were they opening gifts, were they laughing, were they enjoying the day as much as I hoped they were? Did they know that I was thinking about them, missing them and loving them? I hope so.

As we droned on, I caught myself staring off into the inky darkness that is Iraq, wondering what this land must have been like over 2000 years ago. Here it was, Christmas day (night), and as the crow flies, I was maybe 200 miles away from Bethlehem at most. Wow. I can't imagine that this region has changed much in those 2000 years, so even back then it probably looked pretty similar to what I was seeing out my cockpit window right now. The night sky was crystal clear and filled with more stars than most people will ever see. There was no moon, but the stars gave off enough light to see the ground below very clearly. As I was sitting there admiring the beautiful tranquility that was before me, "Silent Night" began to play in my headphones. How appropriate. Indeed it was a silent night, and a Holy night. All was calm (at 29,000'), and the stars were bright. I sat in quiet wonder and remembered the Chaplain's reading of the Christmas story, realizing that I was staring out at the very land in which it all took place so long ago. There aren't many people who will ever get to experience what I did that night, and for that gift, I am very grateful.

Merry Christmas from Iraq. May all the joys and blessings of this Holiday season be yours, and may you know the love of friends and family as I do.

Sacrifices

I am constantly amazed and humbled at how much support and thanks we receive not only from family and friends, but also from complete strangers back home. The walls in our hangar offices are literally covered in cards addressed to "American Hero", or "Any Soldier". These cards and letters come from all walks of life, old and young, East and West. No matter who they're from, they all thank us for our service and our sacrifices, and while the thanks are sincerely appreciated, I can't help but think that they're addressed to the wrong people.

When I signed up to do this job nearly 14 years ago, I knew that being sent to any one of a number of foreign countries was a likely eventuality. It wasn't really a matter of "if", but "when". I considered my options, and willingly signed on the dotted line. When Jamie agreed to marry me, she knew the possibility existed that I would be sent overseas. She agreed by default to my being in the military, and therefore to her own being in the military. To quote a favorite childhood cartoon of mine ("Super Chicken"), we both "knew the job was dangerous when we took it."

Jaislyn on the other hand, had no choice in the matter, and did not agree to anything. She does not understand where I am, why I am here, when I will return, and most importantly, why I am not there with her. People tell me that 2 year olds do not comprehend such things, and that "she'll be fine". I'm sure in time this will prove true, but at the moment, she comprehends much more than most people give her credit for, and she turns to me for answers I cannot give her.

In talking to her last night, she got on the phone, briefly told me about her day and what she did, and then wasted no time in asking "Dada are you coming home this week?" I could hear the hopeful anticipation in her voice as she waited for my answer. It absolutely broke my heart (and hers too) to tell her that "Dada had to stay at work for a very long time." She was noticeably disappointed by my answer, as she had obviously been waiting to ask me that question for some time. She didn't even ask why, altho I could tell she was wondering. She just said "ok." in a very dejected tone of voice. It was of little consolation when I told her that I loved her and missed her more than anything in the world. She was yet again left to wonder to herself why her Dada wasn't there with her. She doesn't yet know the words necessary to get the proper answers to the questions she has in her head, so people just assume she doesn't have any, but she does. It's obvious every time I talk to her. It's obvious when she goes and hugs my truck, because it is the closest thing she has to me. It's obvious when she stops talking to me and hugs the phone "like a baby". She knows what is happening, she just doesn't know why and cannot yet fully express her feelings on the subject. I can't imagine what that would be like. I remember when I was very young (probably 4 or 5) and my Father went out of town on short business trips. I was completely traumatized, and wondered when and if he would ever come home. Even a weekend trip seemed like an eternity at that age. I've been away from Jaislyn for over a month now, with another 5 1/2 to go before I see her, and another 10+ to go before this oddysey is complete. I can only guess the things that are and will be running thru her little head in that time. I hope someday I can sit down with her and show her these posts, and explain to her where I went and why. That is the real reason for this blog.

My choices and my career have taken me away from my daughter at an age when she has all kinds of questions, but very few answers. I often lie in bed and wonder if I've made the right choices, and wonder if she'll ever forgive me for leaving her. Will she understand some day?

People thank me for my sacrifices, but I'm not the one making them. I made a career choice. Jamie and Jaislyn made the sacrifice. Jaislyn is the one making the biggest sacrifice because she had no choice. I have nothing but the highest respect for anyone who is a member of a military family, but military kids are without a doubt the ones who make the biggest sacrifices and get the least credit.

I Love You Jaislyn...

Perceptions

How we view the world depends in large part on our life experiences. How we were raised, what we were taught, places we've been, people we've met, all of these things come together to continually define and redefine who we are and what we believe.

In the short month I've been here in Iraq, it has occured to me just how sheltered and cocooned we are as a whole in the United States. Most people I know would have a hard time simply finding Iraq on a map, no less be able to carry on an intelligent conversation about the political, religious or socioeconomic climate of this region of the world. That is in no way a slight on their education or intellect, it is just a product of the lives we lead. We have no real need to be aware of or educated in those subjects, as they have little or no impact on our daily lives. I still include myself in that group of people, and I am here in the midst of it all, at least physically. I am smack in the middle of the country, but I don't know the first thing about the people who live here, aside from some are "good", some are "bad", and some just don't care one way or the other. I don't know much about this place, but I'd like to learn and hope to do so while I am here.

In talking to some of the "door kickers" (Infantry troops who do the door to door searches in the towns and villages here), it's become apparent that the Iraqis are equally clueless about us, but they're far more curious, as we tend to stand out in our tanks and attack helicopters as we roll thru their towns. What I've learned is that the average Iraqi lives in a low-income household, is extremely dedicated to their family, and has about the equivalent of a 3rd grade education. 5 in 8 cannot read or write. Most don't know or care about the government, so long as their family is provided for. The "enemy" you hear about back home, the Suicide bombers, the people who launch the rockets and mortars at our troops, these are just normal everyday people. Most have no intention and no desire to do anyone any harm, they are just scared and trying to provide for their families. The real "enemy" is the people who are putting them up to it.

Here is a common scenario: A father of four, who works 16 hours a day as a farm hand in the fields, has a child who is sick and will die without the proper medication and treatment. He does not have the money or the resources to acquire the medicine or medical care on his own (no health insurance, medicare or welfare here), so he goes to the local insurgency leader. These people are the ones directly funded by Al Qaeda, Syria, Iran, etc. They have the money, they have the resources, what they lack are the warm bodies to do the dirty work. The insurgents agree to help the man's child and provide for his family. All he has to do is... (Blow himself up in a crowd, launch a rocket at a US convoy, set up a roadside bomb, etc). Of course shortly after he does so (providing he is still alive), a bunch of rather intense individuals wearing uniforms and carrying large guns show up on his doorstep. He's just become "The enemy", but all he was trying to do was save his child's life. You don't hear about that part on CNN, or Fox News, or in any media outlet. Why? Perceptions. It's far easier to just pass them off collectively as "The Enemy", but this situation goes way beyond simple black and white, cut and dried answers. Yes, the man did "attempt" (usually halfheartedly at best) to bring harm to US troops, but given his options, who wouldn't have done the same? I would have.

Another thing about perceptions is that they can lull you into forgetting where you are. This has happened to me several times already, and quite honestly, I hope it continues as it gives me just a brief break in reality, and that is enough. Example: Coming "home" to Balad tonight as we droned along at 28,000' against a 110 knot headwind, I caught myself staring out at the lights of whatever small town we were over. The sight was so serene and soothing, with the moonlight reflecting off the tops of the scattered cloud deck, and the lights of the town twinkling, peeking out from behind the clouds here and there. It was a beautiful sight, and the soft Christmas music I had playing on my iPod just completed the scene. It was perfect. All of a sudden I was back in California, somewhere high over the San Joaquin Valley, it was Christmas time (easily my favorite time of year), I was on my way home, and I could even smell fresh baked cookies (I think one of my passengers brought some aboard...). Then all of a sudden, the radio crackled as an F-16 pilot requested a higher altitude. In an instant, I was thrust back into the C-12 cockpit somewhere over central Iraq. The town I was watching was no longer in California, but in a Middle Eastern war zone. Slap! Back to reality, but the perception (or misperception as the case may be) of being back in California was so real, even if just for an instant. The view was identical, and it brought back fond memories of when I was first learning to fly, more than 17 years ago. It seems like yesterday.

This place, this war, this entire experience has already and will continue to change who I am. It will not by any means define who I am, but it definitely reshapes the mold a little. One of the things they pounded into our heads before we left home, is that we will not return home as the same person. I found it odd that anyone would ever expect to be exactly the same after such an experience, but apparently, many people try. They resist any sort of change, I assume because they are afraid they might not like the results? A favorite song of mine says "If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice". The same is true here, you can either accept that you will be changed by your experiences, and embrace and learn from them, or you can spend all your time resisting something that is inevitable. Either way, you will still be a different person in the end. I have already been affected by this experience, as I am sure you can tell by reading my "before" and "After" blog posts. I can see the change, so I am sure it's more than obvious. I don't think it's a bad thing in any way, I just feel like my knowledge and understanding of the world we live in is slowly expanding, and that is good. I can feel myself maturing in many ways, as I learn that there are realities beyond our own.

Why are we "really" here in Iraq? Who knows. Will our being here solve problems in the long term? I hope so and I think so. Are we helping people in need? Definitely. Are we doing the right thing? There is no one right or one wrong. Only perceptions...

War from 27,000'

Here on base, I live by myself in a small room. I have air conditioning, internet, cable TV, a real bed, a refrigerator, a microwave, and even a small window. In New Jersey, I would probably be paying $1500 a month to rent a room like this, not including utilities and parking. (Ok, well I certainly wouldn't be paying it, but someone likely would.) I am within short walking distance to things like Taco Bell, a laundromat, a shopette a barbershop, a fully equipped Gym, a Rec center with pool tables, ping-pong tables, computer games, video rentals, Karaoke, volleyball courts, basketball courts, etc. Life is not bad at all. That's here on base though.

About 1/2 mile from where I sleep is a real, live 3rd world war zone. From where I sit that is a hard concept to comprehend. We are very securely segregated from the outside world, so what goes on outside of the fence stays outside of the fence in most cases. I say in most cases, because everytime I start to forget where I am, I'll hear a Medevac helicopter landing at the trauma center accross the street, or I'll hear (and feel) two F-16s taking off in full afterburner. Blunt, noisy reminders that we're not in Kansas anymore Toto.

Tonight, as we were approaching Bagdhad at 27,000', my co-pilot (Who's been here as an Apache attack pilot on two previous tours) pointed out some bright flashes on the outskirts of town. "Those were IED's" he said. Now, if you're not familiar, an IED is an Improvised Explosive Device, which is the Army's nice, tidy little euphemism for "Homemade Landmine". I looked over, and saw 5 or 6 more go off. They were very bright yellowish white flashes, and from our altitude, looked somewhat like a camera flash going off accross a sporting arena. Actually, they were almost "pretty", except when I stopped to realize that I'd just watched someone get killed or at the very least, very severely injured. You see, those bombs only go off when a car drives by and triggers the device or someone pushes a button. They're very primative (usually made with parts from old cell phones or washing machines), but also very deadly. They are the biggest threat to troops on the ground, and they are the #1 reason you will not find me anywhere outside the gates of a very secure airbase.

These devices have been going off and killing people for years and years. Nothing new there. It's just that prior to tonight, those were things I read about in the newspaper or saw on CNN. I didn't expect that I would ever see them first hand, and quite honestly, I hope 27,000' is as close as I ever get to them. As I said in one of my first posts, I've been given an all-expenses-paid trip to see this war first hand, and tonight that's exactly what I did. I really wish I hadn't. It's much safer to think that those things only happen on TV, because then it's not real. Even tho I couldn't see anything but a big flash from miles away, I knew in an instant what the result of that flash was, and it gave me a knot in my stomach. Somewhere tonight, there are grieving family members and friends. I don't know who they are; Iraqi, American, British, Australian, etc, doesn't really matter. Grief is a universal emotion, it doesn't matter what language you speak or where you come from. No matter what politicians may tell you, no matter what you read in a newspaper or see on TV, this is a real, live war...still.

I debated whether or not to even write this, because I am sure it will cause a good deal of worry back home and I don't want to make anyone worry about me, but what I saw tonight affected me, and I needed to make some sort of record of it. I assure you, I am still very safe, and very secure here on base, so please don't worry. To be honest, we received what they call a "Threat Briefing" when we first arrived here, and their biggest concern for this base was a damn about 120 miles north of here. It seems the damn is very large (6th largest in the world), and in a very poor state of repair. If/when the damn fails, they say this base will be under a whopping 3 feet of water, and we'll "only" have 75 hours to get to high ground! Oooh! The horror. And me, without a bathing suit. No wait, I have one. Nevermind. Apparently, I am in more danger of getting my knees wet than anything else, so please let that be a comfort.

I also plan (when I find two minutes in a row to myself) to go volunteer at the hospital on base. Supposedly, this is the biggest and best trauma center in Iraq, and this is where all the worst cases are brought, hence the constant helicopters. It has been said that if a wounded soldier (or anyone for that matter) arrives here with a pulse, they stand a 98.7% chance of surviving. Now, having flown civilian EMS, that number sounds extremely high given the circumstances of most of the cases here, but I like it just the same. I've been warned to stay away from the hospital because of what I will see there, but being the stubborn ox that I am (ask Jamie), I've never been one to heed good advice. One of the pilots I first flew with even told me that he was asked to go help one day, and refused because "that wasn't his war". To each his own I suppose, but I need to go. I need to at least try to help people, especially as we approach the holidays. As I said in the post below, attitude is a very powerful tool, and I've seen first hand that it can also be the difference between life and death. They say the mortality rate increases around the holidays just because the injured people feel hopeless and give up. Perhaps I can change that for someone. Maybe I can't, but as the old saying goes, I'd rather try to do something good and fail than to try to do nothing and succeed. Maybe doing something to help someone live will help to offset the destruction I witnessed tonight, and will likely see many times again. I'll let you know how it goes.

525,600 Minutes...

Anyone who has seen the Broadway play "Rent" will understand where the title of this post came from. 525,600 minutes is the number of minutes in one year. Coincidently, that is exactly the amount of time I am scheduled to be here in Iraq, and so it got me thinking.

As I sit here in the little cocoon that is my room (Not complaining at all by the way), it occured to me just how big a number that is. Over half a million minutes. Over 31,000,000 seconds. Seems intimidating when we think about it in those terms, doesn't it? But we don't have to think about it that way. It's all in how we look at it. If we turn it around, we can make the numbers very small as well. 31,536,000 Seconds = 525,600 Minutes = 8760 Hours = 365 Days = 12 Months = 4 Seasons = 1 Year = 10% of a Decade = 1% of a Century = 0.1% of a Millenium, and so on and so forth. They're all exactly the same measurement of time, its just a matter of perspective really.

It's also a matter of attitude. That fact has become extremely apparent to me since arriving in Iraq. I've seen the entire spectrum as far as attitude goes. Everything from people who don't mind being here in the least and have in fact signed up to stay even longer, to people who have invented "issues" in order to attempt to get an early trip home (They're referred to as "Klingers" a la M*A*S*H). I've seen deep depression caused by the separation, and those who were happy to get away from home. It made me stop and reflect on how I was doing on the emotional front. I've been so immersed in getting the job done, I really hadn't stopped to check myself so to speak. In doing so, I realized that I was actually doing just fine. Of course I miss everyone like crazy, and there is nowhere on Earth I'd rather be than back home, but the strength of my relationships and all the support I am receiving from friends and loved ones has allowed me a level of comfort and reassurance that apparently is fairly rare.

Attitude is a funny thing. We all know the old addage about seeing the glass as half full or half empty, but it is truly amazing the difference a positive attitude can make. Dad always tells me to "Think Positive", and if that advice ever applied, it applies here. We can choose to be miserable, or we can choose to make the best of the opportunities we've been given, either way we're going to be gone the same amount of time. Before we left Fort Benning, a Chaplain told us "There are those who count the days, and then there are those who make the days count." He was exactly right, and I am doing my best to fall into the latter category.

The time is indeed starting to fly, at least on a daily basis. I had so many wonderful plans as to how to spend my spare time. I want to take online courses, excercise/lose weight, plan 2 vacations, etc. The only problem is, I haven't got any spare time to spend! I think that will change a little once we've settled into a more comfortable routine, but right now, it's all I can do to keep up with the flight schedule, and that's a good thing.

People all cope with stress differently, but I believe that how you cope depends in large part on your attitude, and that in turn depends on your "Support System" as Jamie calls it, (and it makes sense.) I think of this year away from home as a bridge, and all of you back home are my support. You're the reason I am able to do this. A bridge with no structure would soon find itself in pieces on the ground. The same is true here. A person with no support, or at least insufficient support, soon falls apart and is essentially useless as far as the mission goes, and can even go so far as to be a danger to themselves and those around them. I am extremely grateful for and lucky to have all the love and support I have in all of you back home. Thank You.

I've been on the ground here in Iraq over two weeks already, and all is well. Spirits are high, even in this Holiday season. As I said in an earlier post, being away from home, friends and family makes me reflect on and truly appreciate just how lucky I am, and that realization is perhaps the best Christmas present anyone could ask for. That being said, I am still eagerly awaiting my mid-tour leave, and cannot wait to see what my "Welcome Home" party is going to be like. If you're reading this, you're invited.

See you all in less than 0.1% of a Millenium.

And So The Adventure Begins

Tuesday, Octber 23rd, 2007 was a difficult day.

It was the last time I would wake up in my own bed for a year. It was the first time I would have to leave my family for such a long period. No fun, I promise, but I didn't expect it would be.

It wasn't hard waking up, since in order to actually wake up, you first must be asleep, and that night I didn't get much. My mind was going 1000 mph, albeit in neutral. So many unknowns and questions yet to be answered, but at that point there was nothing I could do about it. I was along for the ride, and we'd all figure things out as we went. I think it's commonly referred to as jumping in feet first... here we go.

The flight to Fort Rucker was unusually pleasant and uneventful. I arrived nearly on time, and all of my bags did as well. Almost unheard of for Delta in my experience.

I got to my room at Fort Rucker at about 11pm, and 8am came way too early. Wednesday was spent doing paperwork and going to classes. Typical Army stuff. Once all that was complete, I had some time to go to the PX (Military version of Wal Mart) and do some last minute shopping. I bought a digital camera and a big backpack. I also decided to treat myself to a Philly Cheesesteak sandwich rather than eat at the mess hall. I figured I had the next year to learn to like mess hall food.

Thursday was pretty much a carbon copy of Wednesday, just with different boring classes. Don't ask me which ones, I can't remember. Thats how educational they were.

Friday I actually got to take the airplane out and knock the dust and cobwebs out of my head for an hour or two.

Saturday morning rolled around, and we all piled into the van for the 3 hour ride to Fort Benning, GA, where we'd spend the next week getting "educated", poked, and prodded. I didn't really care about that. Jamie and Jaislyn were coming to GA on Oct 30th, Mom, Dad and Shannon were coming on the 31st, and Mike, Cindy and Tyler were coming down on Nov 2nd. Thats what I was focused on and looking forward to.

With a Little Help From My Freinds

Wow.

It is said that the truest measure of ones' worth lies in the quality and quantity of his friends. I guess that makes me pretty special. I wouldn't have thought so if you'd asked me, but the night of October 20th changed my mind, and humbled me in a way I'd never been before.

As I mentioned earlier, my last week at home was filled with various and assorted events and plans. Thursday the 18th, we went to dinner with Spicy Grandma, and she mentioned that she had a "Special Guest" coming to dinner on Saturday, and that I needed to wear a shirt and tie to dinner, but left it at that. Ok.

Saturday morning, we decided to head out to Schnepf Farms to see their famous corn maze. As I cannot resist pushing buttons at times, I decided to see what kind of information I could get out of Jamie regarding our "Mystery Guest". She wouldn't budge. I thought I had it figured out just the same tho. I was almost certain that Shannon was the guest in question. She'd tried to come out a few weeks earlier, but couldn't find a decent plane fare. I thought she'd stumbled upon a cheap ticket and just decided to come out at the last minute. Normally I can read these types of things pretty well, but this time I wasn't even close.

The plan was for us to arrive at Spicy's (Jamie's Mom, Chris...Jaislyn calls her "Spicy Grandma") house at 6pm to pick her and Mystery Guest up to go to Houston's Steakhouse for my"Farewell Dinner". I was a bit suspicious of all the Fort Knox-like secrecy regarding this dinner, so I had my guard up and my feelers out. I did notice that someone down the street must have been having a party due to the number of cars, but didn't think anything of it otherwise. Jamie and Jaislyn ran into the house as soon as we pulled up, and I brought up the rear. I knew something was up when I walked in and saw the kitchen table set with a tablecloth and plasticware. A split second later, when I looked into the living room, I saw our "Mystery Guest"... or should I say, ALL of our "Mystery Guests".

I don't dare attempt to name everyone who was there for fear of leaving someone out, but there were dozens of friends and family members there, many of whom drove or flew in from out of town just to see me off. I was floored. I could not believe it. I am getting a bit misty eyed right now just remembering. All of those people went that far out of their way just to come see me (And Jamie, Jaislyn and Chris of course...)? Really? Like I said above, wow. I think I am going to be missed. I'll sure miss them.

I spent the remainder of the evening shaking hands, giving and getting hugs, explaining what we'd be doing in Iraq, and just visiting with everyone. It was the perfect sendoff, and I could not have asked for more. Thank you Jamie and Chris for arranging this incredible evening, and a big, sincere Thank You to everyone who took time out of their schedules to come make me feel so special. I will never forget that night or the kindness and love I felt from everyone.

Thank You.

7 Days and Counting

Well, it seems the closer I get to leaving, the faster time moves, not unlike watching the last few grains of sand slip thru the neck of an hourglass. In actuality, that's not an unrealistic analogy. My time here at home is quickly coming to a (temporary) end, and once I get to Iraq, the "hourglass" will be turned over, and once again I will begin a countdown. As I've said before, I hope it goes as quickly as this past year has. I guess we'll see.

This past two weeks has been mostly spent taking care of all the last minute nitnoid items the Army forgot to tell me about. I've updated my dental records, got a government passport, tried to figure out what kind of things I wanted/needed to bring, and then figured out how to fit those items in a small footlocker. One of the highlights last week was when two of the fine gentlemen I will be deploying with were kind enough to fly out here from Alabama to pick up my footlocker and take it to Atlanta. Jaislyn finally got to see "Dada's Air-payne" and sit in the cockpit. She was thrilled to say the least. Altho I am certain there is still more to be done, I can't for the life of me think of anything else, so as far as I'm concerned, I'm done until we leave.

Now comes the hard part. I/we have not yet had "the talk" with Jaislyn. Not because I don't think she'll understand that I'm leaving, but because I still have no clue how or what to tell her so that she understands that I will come back. In her short 2 years, she's come to understand that Dada "goes out of town" on a regular basis, but usually only for a few days at a time. This time, well... you know.

I know I'm not the first to deploy and leave a young child at home, and I know this is only my first deployment, but it is still the first time I've ever had to leave MY young child for such a long time, and let me tell you, that is by far the most difficult part of all of this. Being in Iraq, being gone for a year, etc etc, that's all easy in comparison. I am terrified to walk away from her (and Jamie, Mom, Dad and Shann for that matter) knowing that I will not see her or hold her or hug her again for another 6 months. I'm not sure I can do it in one try, but I know the longer I draw it out, the harder it will be. I'm open to suggestions if anyone happens to have any pearls of wisdom.

Ok, enough of that for now. Now for the fun stuff and good times. In the past few weeks, we've been blessed to have been able to spend lots of time together, just the 3 of us. We've gone to the train park, the duck park and Chuck E Cheese countless times, we've read LOTS of books (Ok, actually it's just been about 3 different books, each read 100 times...), we've memorized "The Jungle Book", which, in a period of two days became Jaislyn's new favorite movie, we've visited with friends, made new friends, danced, played music, had tea parties (in Jaislyn's room), and I've even learned the intricately complex hierarchy that is a 2 year old's doll house. ("No Dada! The pony goes in the BATH TUB!"). I am also now convinced that Arizona is to the kite world what the Bermuda Triangle is to aviation. Kites simply do not fly here. There is wind, but our kits have an unexplainable attraction to the ground. I know this because we've spent many hours attempting to fly a kite (well two kites now) that absolutely refuses to fly. Fortunately for me, Jaislyn doesn't know what a kite is supposed to do, so she's had fun just the same.

This past week, Jamie and Jais have both been sick, each with ear infections and upset stomachs. Thankfully, that hasn't stopped them from spending time with and taking care of me tho (I had 4 teeth pulled last Friday, and they took excellent care of me over the weekend). Jaislyn pretty much refuses to act sick during any portion of the day in which she might reasonably expect to: a) go to Chuck E Cheeses or one of the parks; b) watch a movie (or should I say "THE" movie); c) play with Mama and or Dada; d) take a walk down to the golf course, or e) eat candy. Once she is relatively certain that the above are no longer viable options, she "becomes" sick, and then wants to be "a baby".. her words.

Jamie... wow. Where do I begin? I don't know how she does it. Before I even know it's a new day, she's up, dressed, has Jaislyn fed, bathed and dressed and off to school. Whomever said that "the Army does more before 8am than most people do all day" hasn't met Jamie yet. She's also been actively looking for work, in addition to showing her artwork, making sure our house is spotless, attending to her ladies' groups' activities, and being Jaislyn's #1 full time playmate. I've got the easy part. I just hafta go to Iraq and fly. Ha ha.

In my last week here at home, we've got lots of together time planned. We're going to the AZ State Fair tomorrow, on Friday we're going to a Corn Maze/Halloween festival out in Queen Creek, on Saturday we're having dinner at Spicey's (and will probably find our way to the train park or the duck park at some point as well), on Sunday we're having a BBQ at Uncle Greg's house. Monday and Tuesday currently don't have any hardfast plans... yet. At that point, I'll be happy just to sit and talk, read stories, play tea party, or whatever my two girls want to do. They've been pampering me, I want to return the favor before I go.

A Little More Than 2 Weeks To Go

Well, if time flies as quickly in Iraq as it has here the last month or so, I'll be back home before I know it. If only...

It's 1130am, and I just got home from work about an hour ago. I didn't get much sleep (2 hrs) because we had to fly at midnight, and I didn't get to bed until 4:30am, but that's ok, last night was special. It was my last shift at LifeNet 1, the Air Ambulance base I've been assigned to for the last year. LifeNet 1 is different from any other base I've ever worked, because our quarters are in a fire station. Now, anyone who's known me for a while must know how excited I was to go work at a fire station. Yes, I've always wanted to be a pilot, but what kid doesn't daydream about driving the big fire engine and putting fires out? I'm still just a big kid.

Aside from all the adrenaline that accompanies this job, the best part about LifeNet 1 was the people. The pilots and medical crews I worked with were all top notch, each one a dedicated professional in the truest sense of the word. The Florence firefighters took us in and made us a part of their family. They didn't have to, we were some group of weird flightsuit-wearing invaders in their space, but they immediately made us feel at home, and welcomed us as part of their team. I'd always heard that firefighters were a tight-knit group, but for the past year, I got to experience that first hand and I will never forget it. Thank you guys.

Last night, the A Shift firefighters threw me a going-away ice cream party, and insisted that I bring Jamie and Jaislyn out for the festivities. Of course Jaislyn was more than willing to oblige, and it didnt take much arm twisting for Jamie either. One of the firefighters brought his wife and 6... yes, 6 kids out, and our paramedic's wife brought their kids as well, so as you might imagine Station 549 was a busy place for a few hours. Everybody wanted to go see the helicopter, especially Jaislyn, who's already decided that she can fly it. (Stretch the pedals out a bit and it wouldn't surprise me in the least.) As the previous pilot had left the fuel a bit lower than normal, I decided I needed to fly to the local airport just to "put just a little more fuel on". Well, I had to fly anyway, and all of the seats were going to the same place as the rest of the helicopter, so why should they go empty? (SHHhhhhhh!!! Dont Tell!) Strangely enough, it was rather difficult to find 3 willing volunteers (Jamie "had no desire", but I think she just wanted to stay on the ground and take pictures), but Jaislyn was the first in line. "I go fly Dada's Hewlikoptir?"

As she sat strapped in her carseat, patiently waiting for everyone else to do whatever it was they were doing, she was literally squealing with excitement. She had no idea what she was in for, but whatever it was, she was thrilled about it! It was only after we closed the doors that she decided she didn't reaallllly wanna go fly, but by then it was too late! I gave her her earmuffs, and after a few attempts and some help from Ms. Jennifer (our Flight Nurse), she got them on and then thought she was pretty cool. As we were taking off, I could hear Jais telling me all about something. I would have loved to have heard that story, she was having a blast!

We got to the airport a whole 3 minutes later, and after I shut down, the airport kitty came out to visit. Jaislyn was in hog heaven. Helicopters AND Kitty Cats at the same time? What more could a 2 year old possibly ask for? As I rolled up the fuel hose, kitty ran home and so did we. Jaislyn was babbling to herself again as we took off, but I looked over about a minute later and she was passed out asleep. I reached over and squeezed her leg to wake her up, but she wouldn't have any of it. After all, it was just a ride in Dada's helicopter. Big whoop. Aren't all kids shuttled around in helicopters?

She woke up as soon as I shut the engine down, and then wanted out of her seat. Back on terra firma, she resumed her pre-flight quest: to find the froggy she saw on the helipad before we took off. No luck. Gee darn.

Soon thereafter, the social events of the evening drew to a close, mostly because all the kids were having a hard time staying awake (Not Jaislyn tho, she'd had her "helicopter power nap"!).
45 minutes after everyone left for home (about 12:10am), reality hit as the "bat phone" rang. Time to go to work.

My last flight with LifeNet 1 was a run of the mill prison flight. People find all kinds of interesting ways to harm themselves, and this guy was no exception. Due to the privacy laws that protect overly stupid people, I can't go into what this bonehead did, but it was mildly entertaining, even at 1am. I did get into a brief discussion on the pros and cons of being in prison (There's that prison referrence again), and he told me all about how living in one of Sheriff Joe Arpaio's "tent city" prisons was such a terrible ordeal, and how he never wanted to go back. My comment to him was: "Well isn't that the whole point of a prison?"

As I tend to do, I've rambled on and on yet again. My apologies (and my thanks if you've managed to get this far.) The whole point of this post was to document my last day (well, night) at work, and let you all read about some of the wonderful people I've had the pleasure of working with, and some of the things I've enjoyed most about this job. I will miss the people the most, but will also miss the adrenaline rush of setting a helicopter down at night in the middle of the desert, or on a busy highway, or on some residential street. I will miss helping people in need. I will miss the 7 on/7 off schedule (The Army has a similar schedule tho, it is 7 on/7 on.) Lastly, I will miss being part of the LifeNet 1/Florence Fire Dept family, altho everyone has promised to keep in touch via Email. That being said, I am looking forward to becoming part of a new (yet old) team. I have just as much respect for the officers I am being deployed with, and I know I will yet again form friendships that will last a lifetime.

Things do happen for a reason.

The Stages

Something I've learned a lot about in the last year are the stages we go thru when faced with a major shift in our day to day realities. Here is how I've broken them down so far:

1. Denial - "I'll believe it when I see it", "Things will change before then", etc. We try to make ourselves feel better by pretending it won't happen. Sometimes we're right, most times we're not. I was hoping this deployment would be like my last in January, and get put off another year or so. This was not to be.

2. Acceptance - "Ok, so I have to go. Now what?" "There's nothing I can do about it?" For me, this was a period of a kind of mild depression. I don't want to leave everybody. I don't know what to expect. I felt kinda trapped, or "sentenced" (again with the legal stuff). The realization that it WAS going to happen combined with the fear of the unknown was a powerful and relatively new experience for me. This wasn't just happening to people I knew, it wasn't just on TV anymore. I was going to get an all expenses paid vacation to go see it all first hand. Wow.

3. Preparation - A little more reality setting in. Yes, I'm going. Ok. I've dealt with that, now what? What to bring? What to do? Where will I live? What will we be doing? Can I call home regularly? What is there to eat? (hey, we all have our priorities) What's the weather like? As I said in an earlier post, lots of questions.

As I am still on step 3, all the following steps are just purely what I imagine them to be based on stories I've heard. Will keep you updated as I progress thru them.

4. Mobilization - This is the "official" getting ready place. This is where we go to make sure all our paperwork (and there is LOTS of paperwork) is in order, make sure all our shots are up to date, make sure we know how to be nice to Mohammed and Achmed so we don't offend them, take care of legal, dental, etc etc etc. A very busy time to say the least. Oh yeah, and if that weren't enough, this is when we are supposed to find a little more time to spend with our families, because this is the "jumping off point". What I want to know is, jumping off of what??

5. Deployment - Getting settled into my room; letting everyone know where I am; learning the new rules (I just got a 120 page handbook on the rules at our base. Unfortunately, I am not allowed to send body parts from Iraqi soldiers home as souvenirs...Yes, it actually said that in the book. Which means some sick dunce has tried it already...); learning my way around base; learning how to fly there, etc etc. This is yet another intense learning stage.

6. Post Deployment rut - The homesick phase. Ok. We're here, we know what we need to know. We're still not used to it, but now all there is to do is fly, eat and sleep. Oh yeah, and miss everyone back home.

7. A Routine - We've been here for a little while and things are going smoothly now. We're not as homesick as we were at first, and we're making friends and getting into a routine. Things are not quite as doom and gloom as they first seemed. We're going to be ok. We're doing the job, and it's not all that bad.

8. Mid Tour Leave - This is what I've been looking forward to. This has been the motivation that's gotten me thru the first part of the deployment. I've been thinking about this not as a 1 year deployment, but rather as two, very closely spaced 6 month deployments. A large amount of my free time has been spent planning our trip (we're all meeting in Europe) down to the minute, mostly just so I have something to do and something to look forward to. As long as I have an attainable goal to work towards and look forward to, I've found I am capable of dealing with all kinds of obstacles and hardships with little problem. I'm sure that will be true in this case as well.

9. Back to the Routine - Refreshed, and now on the downhill side of the mountain. But now what will I do with my free time? Well, there's a few business ideas I've been toying with, and another vacation that has been in the "idea" stage for sometime now, and I think this will be the perfect time to advance it into the planning stages. Jamie, Moms and Dad know exactly what this is. Houseboat! (Summer 2009 in British Columbia if anyone is interested in joining us!)

10. Getting Ready to Come Home - Doing everything I did when I first got here, in reverse. Shipping all of my large items home, going thru all of the "How to be a civilian again" classes, doing MORE paperwork, and most importantly, counting the days, hours, minues and seconds.

11. Coming Home - Cue the marching band, flags, etc etc. In reality, as long as I have a fairly comfortable seat on the plane and my Ipod battery is charged, all I care about is getting back home and seeing everybody. Just a day filled with hugs, laughs, and relief. Thats all I ask.

12. Reintroduction - Ok, party's over. Time to get back to reality here. What's changed? What have I missed? I've been gone for a year, so I cannot just jump back in and expect things to be the way they were when I left. I've changed and so has everyone else. Time to get reacquainted and get to know each other on a non-telephonic basis again. This will be an awkward stage, but if handled delicately, it should be fairly painless.

13. Establishing Normality - Getting back into a routine here at home. Going back to work, and settling in as the Dada once again, and hopefully remembering all the lessons I've learned in this long, difficult process and taking the time to stop and just enjoy my family.

Note: I had to add a 13th step, just because I didn't want this to be a 12 step program. ;-)

No Fear?

It is a normal human reaction to fear the unknown. We all do it to some extent, and I am certainly no exception. It is interesting (at least to me,) to attempt to dissect that fear to it's most basic levels and determine exactly what it is I'm actually afraid of and why. In doing so, I find I am usually able to quell those fears significantly, if not do away with them altogether. Unfortunately, I am my best lab rat. That is to say, my "process of elimination" does not seem to transfer well to those around me. They're still worried about me and I can't make that go away. Perhaps in this post I can shed some light for them, and help them to better understand what it is I am truly afraid of.

In talking to people in my day to day dealings, my pending deployment occasionally becomes the topic of discussion. Almost invariably, those without a military background will ask if I am scared (Those with a military background already know the answer.) Yes. I am. But...

Am I afraid of being shot down? (The most common question) Not at all. My airplane has the newest, state of the art defensive gadgets on it, and we are not considered a "high value" target anyway... other words, we're not worth wasting a missile on.

Am I afraid of road side bombs? No. As a pilot, I am not allowed off base except to fly, so road side bombs really are no threat to me.

Am I afraid of being taken hostage? Nope. Again, not allowed off base in Iraq, so no worries there, unless you count being forced to eat in the mess hall a "hostage situation". In that case, I am afraid, but it still beats MREs.

Truth be told, I am not afraid of anything in or around Iraq. The Army does pretty well when it comes to protecting it's own, and they've only had 5 years to figure this base out. I'm not going into some brand new combat zone, I'm "moving in" to an established airbase, complete with swimming pool, movie theater, internet, bowling alley, and air conditioned rooms. Maybe not the Holiday Inn Express, but what the heck, it's free. Besides, the Air Force lets its people stay there, so how bad can it be?

Well then you may ask, what is it I am afraid of? I am afraid of being helpless if I am needed at home. My biggest fear in all of this is that something will happen at home that I could have somehow prevented had I been there. Pretty irrational huh? I think so, but it's there nonetheless. Common sense tells me that life can and will go on without me around to supervise, and there is an excellent chance that it will do so just as sucessfully as ever (maybe even moreso?... nah....)

To combat this ever-present fear, all I have to do is remind myself of the wonderful support systems we have in place here at home. All the family and friends who've been praying for us and who've volunteered to watch out for Jamie, Jaislyn, Mom, Dad and Shannon while I'm gone, I can't thank you enough. It is because of you all that I am able to do this. If I was left to just constantly sit and wonder if everyone was alright, they'd take my wings and issue me a brand new jacket with cuffs in the back. Knowing that there is so much love and support for my family makes all the difference in the world to me. The Army is my job, my family and friends are my life. I am humbled by and eternally grateful for all the kind comments I've received from this blog, and for the overwhelming show of support I've/we've received in general. I will sleep well knowing that so many incredible people are here looking out for my loved ones. Thank you all, from the bottom of my heart.

People sometimes tell me that I'm some sort of "hero", but all I am doing is a job I've been trained and paid to do. I assure you, I am no hero but appreciate the sentiments just the same. The true heroes are the ones who did not volunteer yet still must endure. They are my strength. They are my heroes. Thank you all in advance for taking such wonderful care of them while I am away. With you all behind me, I have no fear.

You Don't Know What You've Got...

It is said that we seldom think of what we have, but always think of what we miss.

The closer I get to leaving, the more apparent it becomes how many people and things I take for granted in my day to day life. Things most people probably do not even think twice about, I have been noticing more and more, or at least trying to notice, but more importantly, appreciate.

Little things like waking up in your own bed and getting a big hug and kiss and a giggly "Good Morning Dada!"from someone who is still filled with the joys and wonders of simply discovering a new day; or turning on the TV and being "forced" to decide which one of the 128 different channels is the least boring; or calling a friend just to say hi; or even just deciding what you feel like having for dinner...these are normal, daily occurances for many people. They are for me as well, at least for now. Pretty soon, well... lets just say my choices are about to become far more restricted.

I'm not sure if Jamie realizes it or not (sometimes I'm not as good at showing things as maybe I should be), but in the 5 days I've been home from Alabama, I've been trying my best to stop and smell the proverbial roses. We've been doing "fun" things a little more than usual. Jaislyn has been to the train park twice in 5 days, we've gone out to eat 3 times (including once to a brand new restaurant that we'd both been wanting to try), we've seen 3 movies, and we've been spending most of our time together as a family. While I was in Alabama, I was also able to take a quick weekend trip down to visit Mom, Dad and Shannon. We were able to spend a good deal of "Quality time" together, just enjoying each others' company. It's been wonderful, but the question that keeps going through my head is, why did it take me getting deployed to take better advantage of what I've had right in front of me all along?

The funny, if not sad thing is, I've been through all this before, albeit on a slightly different scale. When I left for Basic Training a little more than 13 years ago, I had no idea what I was in for. In an earlier post, I compared being deployed with being incarcerated. I'm here to tell you, Basic Training and Warrant Officer Candidate School are as close as I ever hope to come to being incarcerated. I was stripped of all but the most basic of rights and privileges for about 4 months. I had nothing. Nothing that is, but my thoughts, memories and imagination. It was during that time of my life that I learned how much is taken for granted in this great country of ours, and unfortunately, I'd forgotten those lessons learned until now.

My Dad always tells me that things happen for a reason, and while those reasons may be beyond our current level of comprehension, some day it will make sense. It took me a while to realize it, but he is exactly right. Why am I being deployed right now vs. three years ago or two years from now? I don't know. But I do know there is a reason, and if that reason is just to remind me of how much my family and friends mean to me, and of how truly blessed I have been in this life, well then it will be worth the trip.

More Ponderings...

It’s funny the way the brain works sometimes.

The closer I get to leaving for my “vacation”, the more I find myself watching TV shows about prisons. Subconsciously, I think I am drawing some sort of parallel between being incarcerated and being deployed. The two do share a few similarities: I will not be allowed to venture off base (not that where I’m going is much of a tourist destination), I will not be allowed to wear civilian clothes, I will be living in a small 8x10 “room” (Really ½ of an intermodal sea/land container turned Casa De Grunt), have limited contact with friends and family, and I will have few culinary options (Burger King and Taco Bell notwithstanding.)

On the other hand, I will be flying almost daily, I will get to see parts of the world most people never will (and probably wouldn’t want to, truth be told), I am not there for any other reason than because I volunteered to be, and that means a lot. People go to prison for something they’ve done wrong. I am being sent to Iraq not as punishment, but because my unit has enough faith in my talents and abilities to trust that I will uphold their standards of safety and professionalism under some fairly harsh conditions. I am proud of that.

In my 13 years wearing this uniform, I’ve been fortunate enough to have always been stationed stateside. This will be my first overseas deployment, and in many ways, I feel that I owe it to those who’ve gone before me. I know many people who’ve already spent two, three or even four tours in Iraq. They too have families and friends, yet they continue without complaint. Who am I to complain? I am thankful for their sacrifices, and ready to make my own.

People sometimes ask me if there is any way I can “get out of it” and stay home. Sure, there probably is, but the cold hard truth is that if I don’t go, someone else will have to and I would have to try to sleep knowing that I’ve taken someone else away from their friends and family. No, this is not on top of the list of things I want to do, but it is something I need to do. Because I’ve never been deployed, I’ve always felt as if I was “getting away” with something. I wear the uniform proudly to be sure, but I’ve not yet done anything to feel that I’ve earned the right to wear it. This deployment should solve that dilemma.

Getting Ready

Back to my original question: How do you prepare for something you've never done before? The only answer I can come up with is questions. Lots, and lots, and lots of questions.

Being that I'm in the Army, I have an advantage. If I don't like the answer I get, I just ask someone else, and continue asking until I get an answer I like. Not very productive, and the answers I like are usually wrong, but what the heck.

For the past 2 weeks, I have been in Alabama doing various and assorted tasks associated with preparing to go to "war" (can't really call what I'm going to do "going to war", but more on that later). I've been ridiculously busy, and have been going from sunup to sundown every day, but darn if it doesn't feel like I'm going 1000 mph in neutral. For every item I check off my list, it seems like two more pop up (usually because I ask the wrong question... I'm starting to appreciate the art of playing dumb). I've accomplished quite a bit in these two weeks, but there is lots left to do in the next 5 weeks or so. While the Army has it’s priorities for the use of my time, they’re going to have to take a back seat to my own priorities, the first of which is spending as much time as possible with my loved ones.

I must say that these past two weeks have provided an excellent opportunity to reflect on all the changes that are about to take place in our lives. One thing I’ve come to realize in all of this foolishness is that I have the easiest part. All I have to do is fly, eat and sleep (and write the occasional blog entry/Email.) I will be extremely busy while I’m deployed, and therefore will be focused on the job at hand. This is not to say that I will not miss and worry about my family and friends, but I will certainly have far more distractions to take my mind off of the loneliness, and I won’t be sitting at home each night anxiously watching CNN and wondering if I was anywhere near the latest bomb that went off in Iraq. I will always know that I am OK. They won’t, and I hate putting that kind of burden and stress on them. I signed up for the Army, they didn’t.

They will be left behind to attempt to continue with their normal day to day activities, without my help. Jamie will have to run things by herself (with help from Spicy…Thank You!!) and will have to constantly explain to Jaislyn why Dada is not home. Jaislyn will be left to wonder to herself why Dada is gone again, and when he will ever come home. They will all watch the news each night, hoping not to hear any sort of bad news, but knowing full well that that is usually the only kind of news that actually makes it out of Iraq. Then they will be left to wonder if I am ok, telling each other that I am probably not anywhere near the devastation-du-jour, but never actually knowing until they get my next Email or call. I am very glad (selfishly) that I am not in their shoes. I don’t do worry very well, and I would be sick with it if the roles were reversed.

That being said, thru the blessing of the Internet and phone cards, I hope to be in daily contact with Jamie, Jaislyn, Mom(s), Dad and Shannon and as many of the rest of you as I possibly can.

In advance, I would like to thank each and every one of you for showing your love and support to me, and moreso to Jamie, Jaislyn, Mom(s) and Dad. The kind words and gestures mean more to me than you will ever know, and knowing that my family will have such wonderful people watching out for them while I am away will help me sleep well at night. Thank you all.

The Preparation Begins

How do you prepare for something you've never done before? How do you "get ready" to leave your friends and loved ones behind for a year? How do you explain to a 2 year old that Dada has to go "out of town" for a very long time? How do I convince her that I am not abandoning her, and that I still love her more than anything, and in fact it is because I love her so much that I must go away? She will never understand at this age. Heck, I'm not sure I completely understand it myself. Maybe when she is older, we'll sit down and I'll explain where I went and why. Regardless of who understands tho, that is my task at hand and I have about another 5 weeks to find and implement the answer. No pressure. I just hope time flies this quickly while I'm away.

More to follow.