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

Finally Heading Home - Goodbye Baghdad

After being away from home for over a year, I began my journey home today. I only got about 10 miles down the road, from the center of Baghdad in the IZ out to Liberty Base where the airport is. Tomorrow we fly out for Kuwait and I say goodbye to Baghdad.

Tonight my troops are sleeping in tents, living out of their ruck sacks, and eating MRE's, but that is ok. It is the price to be paid for going home.

This afternoon as we were signing in for our tents we were notified there is a 'Stars for Stripes' (USO) show tonight. When 8 p.m. rolled around we went to their tents to round the troops ufup for the show, but most of them were sound asleep - tough day. So in the end just me and two of my buddies went.

We were right at the stage throughout the entire show. The lead act was the country group Lonestar. I must say they put on one hell of a show. It is cold tonight and you could tell they were noticably freezing, but they kept on playing. The sets they played were a mix of their hits followed at the end of the show by some serious jamming of classic rock.

I have to admit, I almost didn't go. I have never been much of a Lonestar fan. And I have noticed through life that many stars I thought I liked, but when I met them they just didn't measure up. This was just the opposite case with this group. They were a bunch of really nice guys. The were humble, polite, and genuinely friendly before, during and after the show. There was not doubt they were southern with their conversation filled with lots of "y'alls".

The lead singer stopped in the middle of one of his songs when he made a mistake, looked out at the audience and said, "This is making me really nervous. I have never played in a place where every person in the audience has a gun. If we suck, you guys might shoot us."

This was a great way to finish our time here in Iraq - jamming to some good tunes, freezing to death in the desert, helicopters flying overhead, smoke and dust filling the air, and the sounds of gunfire all around the city. You rock Baghdad!

You Have Been In Iraq Too Long When...

Here are some thoughts some of the guys I work with came up with:

• When mortars land near your compound and you roll over in bed and think "still way off, I have another five minutes"

• When you start humming with the Arabic song playing on the radio on the Hadji bus

• Every woman that reports to your unit starts looking attractive

• Every guy that reports to your unit starts looking attractive

• You volunteer for convoy security duty because you haven't seen the country yet

• You start picturing your wife in traditional Arab dress

• You drink the water from the tap because you want to drop 20 pounds in two weeks

• Driving around in SUVs with weapons pointed out the windows and forcing cars off the road seems very normal to you

• You can put your body armor and helmet on in the dark in under 5 seconds

• When you start to enjoy the rocking of the trailer every time the MEDEVAC choppers fly over

• You enjoy the audience commentary while watching a movie bought at Hadji mart

• You're thinking of buying real estate in the green zone

• You make the new guy show you his “doughnut of misery” just to make you feel better about your time left in country

• You plan on removing all trees and grass in your yard when you get home so it will look more natural

• The temp drops down to 102 degrees and you shiver while reaching for your Gortex jacket

• When you call home and your kids ask "Who is this?"

• When 12 hours is a short work day

• When, During the BUA, "DIV asked MNSTC-I for the FRAGO that MNC-I was supposed to publish, but couldn't because MNF-I hadn't weighed in, since they were too inundated with MOD and MOI war-gaming the JCCs within the ISF to square us away!" is a valid comment and generates no questions.

• When you start using words like G'day mate, Cheers, and Bloody hell as part of your normal vocabulary – love the coalition partners!

• When you can actually tell the difference between the sound of an exploding car and an exploding mortar

• You see an indirect fire attack take out an air conditioner and your vigor to fight is renewed

• You know that you need to run inside immediately after any win of an Iraqi sports team to keep from being hit by celebratory fire

• You decide for entertainment – let’s take a run around Lost Lake at Camp Victory to see if we can get shot at by the sniper

• You never worry about oversleeping because if the morning call to prayers doesn't wake you, the daily 0430 mortar attack will

• A rocket or a mortar really isn't a big deal until the crater it leaves is big enough to trip over in the dark on the way to the latrine

• You go to a social gathering and intermittent gun fire or explosions don't even cause a pause in the conversation

• You believe that Stop signs are really just a suggestion

• Right-away on the road is not determined by who was there first, rather by who's bigger and has more guns.

It is time for me to come home.

Less than two weeks left in the middle east and the mortars and rockets came flying in again last night. I really didn't miss them.

Stupid Soldier?

We get in replacements all the time. It is a constant flow of those going home and those just arriving. It is so routine that we really don't think much about it - until yesterday.

We got a message yesterday afternoon from a new troop who had just arrived at BIAP (Baghdad International Airport) who said he had just flown in. We called back to the liaison we have stationed over there to give instructions to the new guy. We were told he had gone to chow.

Good deal. He knows where the chow hall is.

So we left a message with the guy at the airport to tell the replacement to go to Striker Stables and catch the midnight rhino (armored car) over to the IZ (international zone). This involves catching a couple of buses across Victory Base, but people do it every day.

At midnight, we were waiting for this guy to get off the rhino, but he was not there. We figured he must have "missed the bus" so we called over to Striker Stables to schedule him on the morning run. They informed us he had never checked in.

Day one and already lost in Iraq. This is cause for immediate concern! Was he lost or abducted?

After a bit of a search, we discovered that he had gotten on the next flight back to Kuwait. "What? No you have to be kidding." So we waited until the flight arrived and called into air ops down in Kuwait and, sure enough, there he was.

He said he didn't know what to do, and no one was there to tell him what to do, so he got on the next plane out of the country.

Now at this point I was thinking, "Is that all you have to do to get out of here?"

He didn't know what to do so he decided the best course of action was to go to a completely different country. Wow!

We scheduled him on the next plane out of Kuwait back to Iraq. This time we told him to check in at the same desk he had in his first trip and not to move from that spot. I suggested they tie him to a chair.

Meanwhile, we sent someone across Baghdad to escort him to the IZ. In five years literally millions of soldiers have come through Iraq and this is the first time we have had this happen. And this guy has been in the military for over 10 years.

Now, mind you, a year ago I could understand maybe getting off of the plane and being frightened enough to catch the next one out of town, but the shelling has almost stopped. Now there is a general absence of mortar and rocket fire. Besides, he had tasted the chow. He must have known we eat better in Iraq than they do down in Kuwait. Food, shelter, and nobody shooting at you--I just don't understand.

This guy is replacing our computer technician who left last week. He has a lot of work to do; I have my concerns. But then again, this guy has to be an absolute computer genius because he has no common sense.

Or he is the smartest guy to come to Iraq so far because he had the shortest tour of any soldier in this war. That is until we turned him around.

It is going to be a really long year for him.

We have nicknamed him "Boomerang".

A Visit with Nanner at Kalsu

Here are a few pics of Nanner and me having a great time at Kalsu. This is Savannah and her MRAP (Mine Resistant Ambush Protected) truck. She always wanted a really big 'truck' to drive around in. Now she has one that is bullet and bomb proof. This thing can withstand explosions better than a tank. What a lucky girl!

For Christmas I sent Savannah a box of 7" Churchill Cigars. We enjoyed a couple while sitting on top of her truck enjoying the Iraqi night sky. I see a very expensive habit forming. You have to admit, she looks good sporting a stogie.

She couldn't wait to get me into the 'bomb suit'. This thing is designed to prevent your insides form turning to 'goo' in the event a large explosion goes off near you while you are dismantling a bomb. I say, "Cut the red wire, no wait the blue on." It was unbelievbly heavy.

This is a shot inside Savannah's hooch holding and surrounded by her favorite things: pictures of Doug and Tim, her mug always filled with some serious mud, and goodies mailed from home.

Just before I left tonight, we sat on the mine rollers on the front of one of the MRAPs, smoked a pipe (more bad habits) and watched the artillery boys shoot illumination rounds. What a great way to spend a couple of days with your daughter.

She is doing great and works with some really nice people. I especially liked her platoon sergeant .

Flag Raising at New Embassy in Iraq

Flanked by Iraqi and American flags, Ambassador Ryan Crocker, Iraqi President Jalal Talibani, and Deputy Secretary of State John Negraponte dedicated the American Embassy in Iraqi today by a United States Marine Corps color guard raising the American Flag.

It was an opulent affair, the sort one only reads of in novels. Surrounding the 40 foot flagpole was a stage for the dignitaries. From the stage leading down the road for several hundred yards was an 8 foot wide red carpet. Off to one side were two enormous tents with the floor completely covered in red carpet. To the side of the tent was coffee and tea served in cups with saucers, served up by third country nationals. To the rear of the tents was the wine and champagne area. Through the center of the tent was hordurves , a combination of American ‘finger foods’ and Arabic specialties.

In the front corner, closest to the stage was the dignitary area, filled with Iraqi cabinet ministers, generals, and sheiks. Of course they were screened by agents with the obligatory ear piece, sunglasses, and a no-nonsense look on their face.

The style of the day was either modern digitalized green or desert tones for the military folks or black dresses and jackets for the state department attendees. In footwear it was swede boots for the military and the State Department were wearing heels for the women and oxfords for the men.

There was this one security guy/soldier from somewhere in the Balkan states, who I must say had some real military flair. He had a full beard, a pistol strapped on each hip, a machine gun like I have never seen before slung across his back, and what appeared to be a mixture of standard military issue uniform and his own Arabic concoction. I got the feeling he was a modern T. E. Lawrence. He was cool and looked like he really wanted somebody to do something stupid so he could ‘do his job’.

Following a few opening remarks by the Ambassador, Deputy Secretary of State John Negraponte spoke briefly about the history of relations between the U.S. and Iraq to include his time served as the first Ambassador to Iraq following the U.S. invasion in 2003. He had some pretty good style going on too. Most of his outfit was typical business attire, but he was capped by a stylish flat brimmed brown fedora. Now who can get away with that but John Negraponte and my dad.

As these functions are expected to go, there was a round of speeches.

"The return of the Republican Palace to the government of Iraq last Thursday and the raising of the flag over a new embassy four days later are potent symbols of this record of achievement," Negroponte said as the opening speaker in the ceremony. He was followed by President Talibani.

"Allow me to express our firm belief that America's history will have a most favorable view of the liberation of Iraq," Talabani said, "and the creation of a democratic, federal and independent Iraq which will serve as a model to be emulated by other peoples of the eastern world." The closing remarks were then made by Ambassador Crocker.

Of the 120 years since the United States first established a diplomatic presence in Baghdad, Crocker said, "no period has been more intense, more challenging or more promising than that since April 2003. And of that period, perhaps no single week has been more important than this past one."

Following the speeches the 4th Infantry Division Band played the Iraqi National Anthem. Out of respect for Iraq many U.S. service members saluted. This was followed by Christian Lilley, an employee of the U.S. state department singing the American national anthem.

I have witnessed many flag raisings in my life, this one was different. The bold colors of our flag enhanced by a bright Iraq sun, set off by the crisp dress blues of the Marine color guard was a stunning sight to witness. What struck me was just how white the stripes of the flag were as it was slowly raised and was caught by the gentle Iraqi breeze.

The U.S. has its first diplomatic relations with Iraq in 1889 with the appointment of Consul John Henry Hayes. Our first bilateral treaty with Iraq was signed by U.S. President Herbert Hoover in 1934. The U.S. severed relations with Iraq in 1967, but resumed in 1984 until the beginning of the Gulf War in 1991. The U.S. Embassy again opened in 2004 at the former Presidential Palace, and today moved to its permanent location on the banks of the Tigrus.

Being the ‘tourists’ that we are, and not being raised to move in such circles, we had a good time eating cake, bite size funny tasting foods, Chai tea, and took the opportunity to get our photos with the ‘celebrities’ of the war in Iraq.

I am beginning to feel a lot like Forrest Gump.

What if America Won a War and Nobody Noticed?

What if America won a war and nobody noticed - or cared?

What is the definition of victory in Iraq? During the rise of the insurgency and later with the escalation of sectarian violence, the number of bombs exploded and murders committed per day were the definition of loss. Most everyone was pointing at the disaster in Iraq, at the failure of our military, at the 'quagmire' we had found ourselves in just a year ago.

If you compare 2007 to 2008 you will discover a stunning change of events. Violent acts committed across Iraq and in Baghdad are down 93% from one year ago. Sectarian violence is down 98% from one year ago. Only 7% of the murders and shootings that happened a year ago happened this year. Only 2% of the violence based on race or religion was committed this year compared to last year.

Can any nation in the world make this claim? If the performance of the U.S. military, state department, and Government of Iraq is compared on any standard, it is remarkable. Nobody gets these kinds of results. Can you imagine a 93% increase in student performance at a school, and to make the comparison correct, in the worst school in the nation? How about a 98% in violence in our cities?

And this was accomplished in a place that everyone had given up as lost.

Baghdad is a city of 7.5 million people. The suburb of Sadr City has 2.5 million people. These are ancient areas with tensions dating back thousands of years yet there is a real effort to create peace in their neighborhoods.

The government of Iraq last year produced four times as much legislation as the United States Congress. Much of this was directed at social programs, civil projects and efforts to empower those who for generations had no voice. There is genuine progress being made over here.

But the question persists, what is enough? When will America look across the seas to a land most cannot comprehend, and realize what has happened here.

Perhaps the war has become too political.

I really have to wonder if we have won the war, but nobody noticed.

More pics of Nanner on our visit in Baghdad

Here are a few more shots of Nanner from her visit to the IZ last week. Fortunately while she was here we never needed the use of one of these bunkers.

This is a shot of Savannah just before she got on the helicopter to fly back to Iskandariyah. She looks ready!

This is a shot of Nanner as we were having dinner by Saddam's pool. We had a nice chat over milkshakes. I sure did hate to see her go.

New Year's Eve: Major "Polar Bear" Makes History in Palace Pool

Today is the last day of 2008. The United Nations resolution that allows the U.S. to be here expires at midnight tonight. Beginning tomorrow, we are here as “guests” of the people of Iraq.

Today, the American flag was lowered at the Presidential Palace which has served as the seat of the U.S. presence in Iraq. Just yesterday, Savannah and I were walking the grounds of the palace; today they are gated and walled by 14 foot barriers to keep the Americans out for the first time since the occupation.

Tonight was a beautiful very Arabic looking night. As I looked to the sky there was the crescent moon flanked by a shimmering planet, both just above the horizon, nicely framed by palm trees on one side and the palace on the other.

Tonight the entire city of Baghdad sounded like major combat was happening. The sound of AKs filled the night. There were thousands of shots every minute. I was surrounded by gunfire. The Iraqis were celebrating both the New Year and their sovereignty. I can appreciate that. Meanwhile, we were in body armor and combat helmets to protect us from the hail of bullets that was raining down all over Iraq tonight.

In a strange way, this was a good thing. In a strange way, this hail of fire was a sign of our success. We should have felt out of place on this night.

Tonight a couple of my buddies and I went to the palace dining facility for our ‘last supper.’ After dinner, we took a walk around the pool and stood around for a while to smoke a few Cuban cigars. It was a brisk 38 degrees out so we were bundled in jackets and gloves. As we stood there and talked, I had an urge to be dumb, and this is never a good thing.

In the early days of the war (back when fun was allowed), the palace pool was party central. After the first year of the U.S. presence, books like Imperial Life in the Emerald City were published which pointed out the good times that were being had at the pool.

In typical bureaucratic fashion, it was determined there must be no fun in the war zone. We must focus on our mission, which typically means being miserable even though it is not necessary. I have seen more than my fair share of this ideology since being activated over a year ago…but I digress.

The clearest sign of “fun” was people 'drinking' and jumping off of the high diving board. So rules were passed – “No Drinking” anywhere in Iraq - “Diving Platform Closed”. No one has gone off of that platform in a long time. I have said since I got here, “Before I go home, I will jump off of that diving platform.”

Tonight, there I stood with the realization I had not followed through on this pledge. So I took off my pistol, handed it to one of my buddies, and headed for the board. I climbed to the top, stood there just a moment taking in the perspective I had longed for since my arrival. The only light was the sliver of moon reflecting nicely off of my target below. Splash!! Oh my goodness!! The water was freezing. It took my breath away.

After a few minutes of drip drying, I relit my cigar and finished the chat with my buddies. One of them turned to me and said, “You know, you are the last American to ever jump off of that board.” And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I made history in Baghdad.

Happy New Year everyone!