So Long Kuwait!

We are out of here. I will see you all back in the states in a couple of weeks.

As a final bit of irony, yesterday I awoke to a thrunderstorm here in the Kuwaiti desert. It was complete with high winds, thunder, lightning, and of course a driving rain.

I am off to my final breakfast and then to see my good friends at U.S. Customs.

Next stop - somewhere in Indiana.

American Troops and Fast Food

The tent city I currently live in has everything you need to live comfortably. We are living 16 men to a tent, have running water bathrooms a few hundred yards away, and chow served four times a day. There are two USO tents with television sets, video games, pool and ping pong tables, and even a makeshift movie theater. Next to these two tents are a cardio tent and a weight lifting tent. All of this surrounds a collection of hadji shops, a PX and even a string of fast food restaurants to include: McDonalds, KFC, Taco Bell, Pizza Hut, a doughnut shop and even a 'fruu fruu' coffee shop. I can feel myself getting fat just smelling all of the grease and sugary sweetness.

What more could you ask for? Freedom, yes. But that will come in a few day. First we have to readjust to living in America. And what more adjustment is there than eating like an American?

What I find remarkable is that food is provided free in the 'chow hall', but dozens of soldiers are lined up at the fast food restaurant just outside around the clock. McDonalds has the longest lines. It must be some sort of a connection to childhood memories.

Of course my troops are no different. They can be found daily in the picnic area, munching on a bag of greasy American fast food. Most of the troops lost considerable weight in the last year, now they are working quickly to restore those lost pounds, American style.

And we think we can get American students in our schools to eat healthier if we provide more appealing choices in our school cafeterias. Not a chance. At our chow hall in Baghdad, they would serve T-bone steaks and crab legs on Sunday nights, but our young soldiers would be lined up at the Burger King across the street to buy thier food instead.

I met an Egypitan man yesterday I had worked with during the past year. He is very disturbed by what he calls "American's need for consumption". "How can it be that right there is very good free food, and these American young people will spend their money on food that is not as good?" I told him we are trained from a very young age to love the 'golden arches'. He got a bad look on his face and said, "Foolishness!"

I went in one of the shops yesterday and the local national who worked there was eating traditional arabic food. I asked him where I could get some of that. He said they are not allowed to bring it on the base because "your stomach will get upset".

What a shame, I am in the middle of the middle east and all I can get to eat is American food.

Gates of Hell

Today I took a trip down to Camp Arifjan in southern Kuwait. It was a couple of hour bus ride on a coach with big windows so I was able to take in the the countryside as we rode along.

What was so incredible to me at first was just how much Kuwait is built around oil while maintaining their heritage. Now I knew it was an oil country, but I had not idea just how much. As you travel Kuwait you will see two things: oil industry and Kuwaiti tents.

The desert people of Kuwait live part of the year in tents scattered across the landscape. There you are driving across a vast expanse of desert and smack in the middle of it sits a group of tents. I was notified that these people have homes nearby but to stay connected to their customs and traditions they live in these tents part of the year. Next to the tents is a water trailer, and more often than not a Mercedes Benz or a BMW.

As we got south of Kuwait City the presence of the oil industry intensified. I remember as a child as we drove through Ashland, KY there was a large oil refinery there on the banks of the Big Sandy River, but the ones in Kuwait go on for miles. Miles and miles of drilling platforms, refineries, and burn-off towers. The later was much more interesting as I was returning "home" to Ali al-Saleem tonight. The evening sky appeared on fire, with towers of flame lighting the horizon. It seemed that all of Kuwait was on fire. Remarkable.

It is a strange relationship we have with Kuwait. They are a muslim nation with a large population of radical Islamic believers, yet as was proven in 1991, they need the protection of the United States from their neighbors even as they protest our presence in their country.

Transient Housing

You know, the problem with transient housing is just that, it is transient. Last night we were all bedded down for the evening when at 1:32 in the morning a plane load of infantrymen came rolling into our tent. Now a reasonable person would get out a flashlight, find a bunk and go to sleep. Not these guys. They had a mountain of gear and were not completely settled until after 3 a.m.

The joy did not stop there. You don't appreciate relative quiet until it is absent. There were two snorers in the group. These guys were serious about their snoring. At first I though it would pass, but when I left the tent earlier this morning, they were still at it.

We were cordial enough about their intrusion and disruption of our quiet and solitude. They were not pleased with our early morning wake up though. 0600 - lights on - soldiers going for showers, PT, getting dressed, cleaning weapons. They just kept looking at us, one finally asking us to please be quiet and turn off the lights. We just smiled and said, "Sorry, we have work to do." They groaned, rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. One advantage, the snoring stopped, though a little late. If it starts again tonight, I think we will turn on the lights and clean our weapons. If we have to be awake and miserable, they may as well be too.

I think they will be moving out soon. That is the good thing about transient housing. Your neighbors aren't your neighbors for long.

Ali al-Saleem with Dirty Dozen

Yesterday we arrived at Ali al-Saleem airbase in Kuwait with my 12 troops who make up our advance party. I was not originally scheduled to leave early, but was pulled in and told the troops who were going out early needed "adult supervision" - so they sent me? Go figure. I literally am here with our 'dirty dozen' - the angry, bitter and depressed. I was told I am "uniquely qualified" to deal with these young soldiers and to get them safely out of Iraq. I was told, "They like you and will do what you ask of them; if we send them with anyone else there will be trouble."

Sometimes it pays to be a teacher. And these 'kids' have loaded guns.

We had a uneventful flight on the C-130 Hercules that flew us out of Baghdad. I used to jump out of them years ago when I was in an airborne unit, now I just enjoy the ride.

I love the "jump seats" piled with bodies and gear, with everyone leaning on one another as we tried to catch a little nap on the way down. Now that is real flying: the roar of four turbo props chopping at the air as they wind up the engines with the brakes held tightly until it feels like the plane will shake apart, then suddenly they release and you are nearly thrown from your 'seat'. And no C-130 trip is complete without the stong smell of jet fuel. Ahhhh!! That takes me back to my youth.

As we climbed on board the Air Force guys who were loading the cargo smiled and said, "Look at her, she is the finest piece of equipment the taxpayers could buy in 1974." Oh great, I am flying out of a war zone on an airplane that is 35 years old. You can't scare me, a few years back the tank I was using was make in 1957. I guess we build them well for the military or we take damn good care of them. They sure keep going.

When we arrived at the air base we ate some 'Jimmy Dean' meals and then were put up in 'transient tents' to await the arrival of our rear detachement who are due next week. We are doing some outprocessing while we wait for their arrival. Mostly there is some quiet time to adjust to the absence of someone shooting at you. I can see value in this. It is nice to have the relative quiet. I gladly trade the sound of exploding mortars, rockets, and car-bombs for the quiet hum of generators and military transport aircraft taking troops home.

To help them readjust, I have pretty much cut the troops loose. Their requirement is for them to check in with me once a day to verify they have positive control of their 'sensative items': gas mask, machine gun, pistol, and ammunition. Each day I inform them of any briefings they need to attend. Other than that they are free to roam the base which is surrounded by miles and miles of the most barren desert you can imagine. Not even a camel in sight. They were all quite content when I last saw them this afternoon.

I will let you know how it goes.

Mission accomplished - Inshala