Kuwait: The land that I wish to forget!

Of course, it was June this time and not February like last time I was there. I guess the summer vs. winter thing makes a difference in the ambient air temperatures at night on a concrete tarmac. We caught the same usual busses from the airport to the staging area. Funny…déjà vu! The staging area is in sight of the airport’s tower, and man if I didn’t remember standing right there the last time. The only difference was that there were now tables to sit at. Otherwise…the port-a-johns were in the exact same places. The watering hole was in the same place. The sounds and smells were exactly the same. I had forgotten all about that until I had stepped into it again. Then the memories flooded back. Ugh!! What the heck did I get into again?

It’s strange being the war veteran amongst a group of peace time vets. A IBCT HQ is a large beast compared to most headquarters, and this one is no different. However, if you remove Desert Storm, there were maybe a dozen or so soldiers who had been in combat zones. And when I say combat zones, I mean in locales where they were actually shot at or there was a real chance of them being seriously injured. None of the “I was deployed to Kuwait for my last tour and all I got was this combat patch” type of combat zone. I mean soldiers who were in Bosnia/Kosovo when we first went in, OIF vets, and OEF vets. Truly, there were not a lot of us. Anyways, sitting there in Kuwait at 0430 in the morning, sun just beginning to crest the eastern horizon, 85 degree wind whipping sand across my face, I noticed for the first time, the looks of…maybe not fear yet…but definitely realization settling across soldiers faces. It’s hard not to think about what you’re getting ready to go into when all you have to do is sit around and wait for a bus to take you to your staging base. Thankfully, I was still able to use my Cingular cell phone (I’m a little afraid to see what the charges ended up being). I called Kathy and let her know I was safely in Kuwait now, waiting to move on. This was going to be my last “free” cell call to Kathy for awhile. It was a good call, and it made me smile. No sooner had I gotten off the phone then my battle buddy, CPT Corey Stavinoha, asked if he could call his parents and let them know he was alright. Ok…funny story and I hope I never do this to my children (although I probably will). Stav called his father, and when he said “Hey dad, it’s me!” the next thing he said was “It’s your son…you know…Corey!” I could just hear his father saying “Huh? Who’s this?” Made me laugh. After Stav was done with his call, I ended up letting 4 others use my phone to call their families and let them know they made it to Kuwait.

Than we began our long journey into the Kuwaiti desert, b/c we all know that the military can’t have an Army base anywhere near civilization. I mean, this is way the heck out into the middle of nowhere. We drove for about 2 hours, on road and off road, around camels, over hills…all to get to the well established Camp Buerhing. It was built up more than Camp Virginia was when I came through there. Better force protection, paved roads, hard stand buildings instead of all tents. AND there was a decent food court. We had a Burger King, a Chinese fast food joint, Baskin Robins, Subway, Pizza Inn, Great Steak Company, and a few other “bad for you” joints to eat at. BUT, I ask, why eat there when you can eat in the dining facility (DFAC) for free? And the food in Kuwait and Iraq is good! The US Government does not skimp on food for soldiers going to OIF! Hallelujah! So we got to stay in a large white tent (hard stand buildings for the permanent party soldiers) with a very robust skeleton and skin; I say robust b/c it withstood 65 MPH winds during two big sandstorms. The tents were air conditioned, so that was nice. In fact, they were so cold that I actually got a head cold. I was miserable for a couple of days there. That’s what I get for letting my cot get put right in front of the a/c. We spent the next few days doing…absolutely nothing. Oh wait…we did have one more IED class. Some British Sergeant Major, or what would be our equivalent, was giving this briefing. I don’t know where the Brits learn to brief, but damn! This Brit knew how to brief! First off, since he was British and had that “God Save the Queen” accent, all of our females were enamored by him. Posh!! So he proceeds to brief, degrading himself as he goes along, as all good NCO’s try to do but normally fail miserably. He had stories of war, but they were funny and serious all at the same time. Every six or seven slides, he would throw in a video of some kind…usually something funny. A commercial to make his point, the British Amphibious Assault that was mired in mud, something that had absolutely NOTHING to do with IED’s. Either way, he was amusing and held everyone’s attention. I’d love to sit through his brief again just to take pointers.

Unlike last time, there was a range we had to go too. But it wasn’t any normal range like a qualification range. No Sir!! It was a range to just make sure your weapon could fire. Now…why in the hell would a military need to conduct this range prior to going into Iraq? Anyone wanna guess? Yup…b/c some idiot went into Iraq before with a non-functioning weapon, and never told anyone about it and almost got killed while unable to shoot back. Same concept as those warning labels on everyday appliances like a toaster…”Do not use in water”. DUH!! You go to war, you check that friggin weapon. So the military spent thousands to build these gorgeous ranges out in the middle of nowhere…literally 2 hours from our Camp…all so we could go there and just shoot off rounds at some targets. No aiming, no special purpose, other than to prove it will fire. Sad! But we did it. I got to pull my S.W.A.T “move” where I fired off a full magazine of 5.56mm from my M4, then swung the rifle to my back, dropped to one knee, drew and fired a magazine of 9mm, and then combat reloaded and fired another magazine. Pretty stupid actually, but then again…so was this range!

So I spent my time revolving around chow, working out, and going to the USO to play X-Box. Couple of things…I suck at Halo on X-Box. Anyone wants to feel good about their playing abilities…play against me. Also, if you contribute money or time for anything, please consider the USO. It’s a fabulous organization of volunteers whose sole purpose is to provide for soldiers, sailors, airmen, and marines. They’re a great organization. They even had cell phones so I could call Kathy while I was sitting around in Kuwait.

We left in the middle of the day, at the height of the heat. It wasn’t bad until we had to stand on the tarmac wearing our body armor and carrying our bags for 2 hours. That was a wee bit hot. We flew into country in a C17 and not a C130. For those that don’t know, sitting in a C130 is basically sitting inside a nylon cargo net system, with your knees shoved up into your chin and all your gear sitting on your lap. AND it’s very, very noisy. A C17 has the ability to have standard coach class seats installed into them. So I thought we’d be comfortable as we flew into Iraq. Oops! I was wrong again. You should see the cramped quarters we were stuck into. AND we had to keep our body armor on and hold our bags! It was like being a walrus wedged in between two rocks. Miserable! Look at the pictures (when I post them), and you’ll see. The smile is deceiving. The flight was uneventful. I literally slept from the time we took off until we were well on the ground and had begun to unload the plane. It didn’t feel any hotter in Baghdad. We had a small welcoming party from our advanced party meet us and we moved to another FOB near the airport so we could catch our up armored transport…9 hours after we landed. The reason being is that the vehicles we rode in belonged to the Department of State, and they only drove at night to prevent being hit by IED’s. We rode in what is called a Rhino Runner; essentially an up armored bus. The ride was a little tense, but only b/c we had to drive the dreaded “Route Irish”. Route Irish is considered to be the most dangerous stretch of rode in all of Baghdad, b/c it’s the lifeline between the International Zone and Victory Base and everyone wants to hit you on that road. We arrived in the International Zone early, early in the morning. Went through the standard bag shake down and K9 sniff, and then we walked a half mile to our new homes in Riverside. We spent the next few hours unloading bags, filling out paperwork, and getting settled into the new CHU’s. And thus begins my new life for the next year in the International Zone…