The Long Trip Home

Tonight I begin the 4 day, 8000 mile trip back to San Diego. I leave tonight, hopping a ride on a military convoy over route Irish, aka “The deadliest road in the World.” Then I get to spend the night in a tent. Tomorrow I’ll be spending my day waiting for a C-130 to fly down to Kuwait. Once in Kuwait I’ll visit some people I know and debrief with some corporate types. Two days later I start the 24 hour process of flying home. I can’t wait… I’ll see you all soon.

I’m out of here!

Final Days

So I've finally reached the end of my tour. I can't believe it. It is strange in a way, I've become so accustom to my routine here. The sights, sounds and smell of this place are ingrained in me. Don't get me wrong, it's time to go but there will be some things I'll miss. At the top of the list I will miss my "Knuckleheads." That is the affectionate name I use for the three guys who work for me. These guys are younger then me (they're 25) so they constantly referred to me as "The Old Man." This was usually followed up with a brief ass-kicking. I have come to regard these guys as my little brothers; pests who were born to bother me yet I can't help but care and look out for them.

I'm going to miss you guys

The "Knuckleheads"

Dan, Alan and Justin

Me and Dan

















Me and the boys

Good Luck John

One of the best people I know just moved back up to Northern California. San Diego will be a little less bright now. Fortunately (for me, not sure it is for him) I still intend to keep in touch with him. He put up with a lot of my shit and I'm lucky he still sees something in me.

John, I'm going to miss you.

Update...

I'm off to Mosul in a couple of days. I'll be there for about a week. After that it's smooth sailing here in Baghdad until I leave for good.

38 days and a wake up!!

Crazy

So the other night at about 0130 (that's 1:30am) I'm flying 40 feet above the ground with the 101st Aviation Brigade in a Blackhawk across vast stretches of Iraqi desert sporadically dotted with small villages. The crew is using night vision goggles to see where we are going. I am very familiar with this kind of flying because I used to be a combat flight crew chief and I flew hundreds of these missions myself. About an hour into the flight the pilot fired off a bunch of phosphorous flares and the two door gunners lit up the 50cal door guns. We started yanking and banking, flying in an evasive way to avoid being shot. Me and the other passengers grabbed our own weapons and loaded them, ready for whatever might happen. Well after we flew out of the "danger zone" the crew got a radio call from the other Blackhawk flying with us saying they spotted our enemy. It was a dog. Crazy enemy dogs! Yeah, that'll wake you up!

Anyway what struck me most was right at the moment this was going on, when I was preparing to be engaged somewhere over the Iraqi desert in the middle of the night my friends back home were completely unaffected by my reality and fully immersed in their own. It seems so weird that I could have such an extreme moment while Matt was in the middle of his lunch hour, Bryan was testing some software, John was, well probably sleeping (lucky slug) and the most important issue of the day was where to find the cheapest gas.

In retrospect I'm glad we live insulated lives. But I'm also glad I was reminded that insulated shouldn't equate to apathy. The next time I'm asked to give a little to help someone in some far off place I might think twice.

M.