2004 Camp Cooke, Taji, Iraq
Twenty seven days left here. Its easy living now except for the total lack of inspiration. No mountains, no Mexico, no restaurants, nothing to break up the day except the 1st Sgt's occasional visit telling me what I’m doing wrong again. “You are parked out front. We can’t allow that. There are no military vehicles allowed to be parked out front.” Ohh! I reply. “You mean military vehicles like the other 3 that are out there?” The next time he whips out “The Colonel” on me I think I’m going to tell him to have the Colonel come tell me himself. I may come back here but when I leave next time it will be the last time I come over here to this God forsaken desert.Then the Colonel really will have to come tell me himself. And I’ll smile then do it anyway. Nothing here but money. Killeen Texas is going to look so good. The most God forsaken place in the States. i.e. Killeen, Texas is going to look like DisneyLand compared to this hole.
The living is easier though. At least my airconditioned trailer presents some small relief to the 130deg heat and no privacy we had before. Even living with other people in a tent in Tikrit wasn’t really what I would choose for a lifestyle. Still, we had it better than most, but living with the likes of Sills and Tylman and right next door to maniacs like Seiler and Lawrence wasn’t a picnic. I think Hocket was the only sane one in that whole bunch. He deservedly got picked up for Warrant Officer. The other two, Lawrence and Seiler were nuts. Lawrence, the 34 year old E-5 put in for OCS. “ I’m not having to put up with this shit after I’m an officer”. He would say when he wasn’t telling you all about how he was going to be the President someday. Needless to say: He is still an E-5. He only has 8 months left. I think he mentioned that he has found himself a swell job in his home town at Bell Helicopter pounding rivets. I can just hear him. “There’ll be no more of this shit after I’m a rivet pounder”. Now its Phillips and Elliot who are my next door neighbors. Doc is an ex Army copter mech who keeps flight and maintenance records. Dan is the resident Sikorsky know-it-all. They live in the trailer facing mine. They’re ok. I made the mistake of loaning them my tables and now they won’t return them. Doc wanted to borrow a transformer yesterday and my answer was short and to the point. Still, they aren’t bad fellas but Doc will play you for all you’re worth if you let him. “Hey Chuck” He says one morning. “I’m having a real hard time getting my name on the list to have checks cashed. They won’t cash anything from me over $200. I want to buy some Iraqi Dinars because I think they will double or triple in the coming years. If I write you a check could you cover me for $2000?” Ha Ha That Doc. What a kidder. He must have been kidding. I do tend to mope around sometimes with a blank look on my face but surely, I don’t look that stupid…Do I? Anyway, I informed Doc that my wife Rhonda is the family Finance Minister and to write and ask her for it.
My only respite here so far has been working with Sgt Smith. He’s a bright fellow. I like watching him figure things out. He knows Jesse and guess who was also picked up for Warrant? So we will be losing him within the next month or so. He and Jesse will be going through WO school together…while Sgt Lawrence will be in Amarillo pounding his rivets and not having to put up with any shit.
Today Eric and I are once again working on the helo. Yesterday we roled it as 4th BDE trying to sus out our FBCB2 messaging problem. Force XXI Command Brigade and Below. FBCB2 gathers information on the location elevation, type and speed of friendly battlefield platforms and presents them as ikons on a computer screen. It enables warfighters to see each others positions and speed and direction of travel. Plus they can communicate by sending a sort of email to one another. Our problem, maybe the 1 Cav Division’s problem, is that we can’t message. We are unable to communicate by free-text messaging (email) to any other platform. We think that it may be the Division role we are using. We re-roled as 4th yesterday but they gave us the wrong crypto keys. In order for us to reconfigure the radios for the new role they must be “zeroed” of their cryptography. Once they are reconfigured then they have to be “filled” once more with the proper crypto keys. We hope we will get the proper keys this morning. Then we will try to message as a member of 4th BDE.
They are trying to fly this chopper into phase shortly. If I didn’t know better I would think they are trying to time it so that it interferes with my going home on 17 July. They have bigger fish to fry than just thinking of how to screw my life up. They do have a talent for chaos though. It seems to come natural to them. When your outfit has a Colonel who occupies part of his waking hours worrying about whether one of the civilians supporting his outfit is wearing his helmet or parking his Hummer in the wrong place, I would say that there is a problem. I was flying just after the initial invasion with the commanding general in the back seat with his legal officer and aide. His deepest thought was whether he could use a box of 50 caliber ammo he had confiscated from the Iraquis. Maybe he was just on break. What really is the matter is that it sticks in their craw that I have control of a military vehicle for my personal use. They are always short vehicles for one reason or another. It bothers them and what bothers them even more is there is absolutely nothing they can do about it. My Hummer is owned by the PM A2C2S and they can’t touch it. I really don’t think they can tell me where or where not to park it, but giving them an argument there would violate the first principal of military contractors everywhere: Keep smiling and take the money. Losing that battle would remove me out from under the eagle pooping. Not worth it. Best to wear the helmet and stay out of their way. Out of sight , out of mind and the eagle will keep pooping on me bi-weekly. Repeat after me: I have no ego. I have no ego. Hey, I studied under the best. The Saudis. The most arrogant, elitest , self righteous fools on the planet. One can get away with just about anything else. Only one rule. Ok Two: Keep smiling. Don’t lose your temper. Follow those two rules and no one can touch you. Anger management. Can all of the above be true? The Eagle swallowed a worm one day and at 3000' the worm poked his head out of the Eagles butt and said 'You wouldn't shit me would you?"
"Of course not." replied the Eagle.
"You are my favorite terd."
Twenty seven days left here. Its easy living now except for the total lack of inspiration. No mountains, no Mexico, no restaurants, nothing to break up the day except the 1st Sgt's occasional visit telling me what I’m doing wrong again. “You are parked out front. We can’t allow that. There are no military vehicles allowed to be parked out front.” Ohh! I reply. “You mean military vehicles like the other 3 that are out there?” The next time he whips out “The Colonel” on me I think I’m going to tell him to have the Colonel come tell me himself. I may come back here but when I leave next time it will be the last time I come over here to this God forsaken desert.Then the Colonel really will have to come tell me himself. And I’ll smile then do it anyway. Nothing here but money. Killeen Texas is going to look so good. The most God forsaken place in the States. i.e. Killeen, Texas is going to look like DisneyLand compared to this hole.
The living is easier though. At least my airconditioned trailer presents some small relief to the 130deg heat and no privacy we had before. Even living with other people in a tent in Tikrit wasn’t really what I would choose for a lifestyle. Still, we had it better than most, but living with the likes of Sills and Tylman and right next door to maniacs like Seiler and Lawrence wasn’t a picnic. I think Hocket was the only sane one in that whole bunch. He deservedly got picked up for Warrant Officer. The other two, Lawrence and Seiler were nuts. Lawrence, the 34 year old E-5 put in for OCS. “ I’m not having to put up with this shit after I’m an officer”. He would say when he wasn’t telling you all about how he was going to be the President someday. Needless to say: He is still an E-5. He only has 8 months left. I think he mentioned that he has found himself a swell job in his home town at Bell Helicopter pounding rivets. I can just hear him. “There’ll be no more of this shit after I’m a rivet pounder”. Now its Phillips and Elliot who are my next door neighbors. Doc is an ex Army copter mech who keeps flight and maintenance records. Dan is the resident Sikorsky know-it-all. They live in the trailer facing mine. They’re ok. I made the mistake of loaning them my tables and now they won’t return them. Doc wanted to borrow a transformer yesterday and my answer was short and to the point. Still, they aren’t bad fellas but Doc will play you for all you’re worth if you let him. “Hey Chuck” He says one morning. “I’m having a real hard time getting my name on the list to have checks cashed. They won’t cash anything from me over $200. I want to buy some Iraqi Dinars because I think they will double or triple in the coming years. If I write you a check could you cover me for $2000?” Ha Ha That Doc. What a kidder. He must have been kidding. I do tend to mope around sometimes with a blank look on my face but surely, I don’t look that stupid…Do I? Anyway, I informed Doc that my wife Rhonda is the family Finance Minister and to write and ask her for it.
My only respite here so far has been working with Sgt Smith. He’s a bright fellow. I like watching him figure things out. He knows Jesse and guess who was also picked up for Warrant? So we will be losing him within the next month or so. He and Jesse will be going through WO school together…while Sgt Lawrence will be in Amarillo pounding his rivets and not having to put up with any shit.
Today Eric and I are once again working on the helo. Yesterday we roled it as 4th BDE trying to sus out our FBCB2 messaging problem. Force XXI Command Brigade and Below. FBCB2 gathers information on the location elevation, type and speed of friendly battlefield platforms and presents them as ikons on a computer screen. It enables warfighters to see each others positions and speed and direction of travel. Plus they can communicate by sending a sort of email to one another. Our problem, maybe the 1 Cav Division’s problem, is that we can’t message. We are unable to communicate by free-text messaging (email) to any other platform. We think that it may be the Division role we are using. We re-roled as 4th yesterday but they gave us the wrong crypto keys. In order for us to reconfigure the radios for the new role they must be “zeroed” of their cryptography. Once they are reconfigured then they have to be “filled” once more with the proper crypto keys. We hope we will get the proper keys this morning. Then we will try to message as a member of 4th BDE.
They are trying to fly this chopper into phase shortly. If I didn’t know better I would think they are trying to time it so that it interferes with my going home on 17 July. They have bigger fish to fry than just thinking of how to screw my life up. They do have a talent for chaos though. It seems to come natural to them. When your outfit has a Colonel who occupies part of his waking hours worrying about whether one of the civilians supporting his outfit is wearing his helmet or parking his Hummer in the wrong place, I would say that there is a problem. I was flying just after the initial invasion with the commanding general in the back seat with his legal officer and aide. His deepest thought was whether he could use a box of 50 caliber ammo he had confiscated from the Iraquis. Maybe he was just on break. What really is the matter is that it sticks in their craw that I have control of a military vehicle for my personal use. They are always short vehicles for one reason or another. It bothers them and what bothers them even more is there is absolutely nothing they can do about it. My Hummer is owned by the PM A2C2S and they can’t touch it. I really don’t think they can tell me where or where not to park it, but giving them an argument there would violate the first principal of military contractors everywhere: Keep smiling and take the money. Losing that battle would remove me out from under the eagle pooping. Not worth it. Best to wear the helmet and stay out of their way. Out of sight , out of mind and the eagle will keep pooping on me bi-weekly. Repeat after me: I have no ego. I have no ego. Hey, I studied under the best. The Saudis. The most arrogant, elitest , self righteous fools on the planet. One can get away with just about anything else. Only one rule. Ok Two: Keep smiling. Don’t lose your temper. Follow those two rules and no one can touch you. Anger management. Can all of the above be true? The Eagle swallowed a worm one day and at 3000' the worm poked his head out of the Eagles butt and said 'You wouldn't shit me would you?"
"Of course not." replied the Eagle.
"You are my favorite terd."
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