When I was sitting at Atlanta marveling at the common assumption that wireless networks will be available everywhere (I heard several people pissing and moaning about the weak signal at the end of the terminal), I remembered a story that old sailor told me. He was in, or maybe on (since he was a Boatswains Mate), DD-755 in the late 1960s. He said that while the CO was a gung-ho, kill-commies kind of officer, he had a weakness for intricate paintwork. After one particularly long gun-line cruise, the ship turned to Subic Bay for a port visit. While steaming towards the Philippines, the crew gave the rusted ship a scrape and a paint job, the latter including white details around portholes, deck trim and even individual rivets. At Subic, however, the base Admiral made them anchor in the channel and paint over all the white before they could moor to a pier – a job accomplished in half an hour (!) since it was holding up liberty…
During the loading process I got extremely lucky. First, I ran into a friend of mine from Basrah (he’s now stationed in Baghdad), so we teamed up. Then, they loaded the passengers in the following order: VIPs, Dallas arrivals in alphabetical order, contractors and then Atlanta arrivals in no particular order (since we had boarding passes). Stephen and I sidled to the back of the Atlanta line, ostensibly to watch the initial poll reporting on the election (we load at 20:02, so nothing to report really – I still don’t know who won the election), but really to be the last aboard the plane. We were in the last dozen or so and managed to get a row to ourselves, which meant an open seat between us – which is heaven during an 8-9 hour cattle car flight to Germany!
We are wheels up at 20:32 on 7 November, and I won’t step on American soil again for half a year.
They show the second Pirates of the Caribbean on the plane and I like the line early, where Captain Jack says, to no one in particular, “Why is rum always gone?” Bit of an existential question, and got a laugh out of all of us.
Landed in Leipzig, Germany, in the late morning. Flew over neat, green parcels of land, surrounded by tree-lined roads connecting small villages and spotted with tall, white modern wind turbines. Looked very well organized.
The landing was rough, so much that the flight attendant came on and said “I think we landed twice.” He also thanked us for our service, wished he was taking us in the other direction and actually said “When your time in theater is up go ahead and call 1-800-take-my-ass-home and we’ll get you outta there.”
The flight to Kuwait was remarkable in two ways. First, we flew over eastern Europe and Turkey to get there and it is still a very different world. The fields are more brown and dismal looking, like you think Transylvania should look, and the parcels are cut into very small, feudal-looking rectangular pieces – clearly they are still peasants out there. The sun was setting as we flew over some high forbidding mountains, then, after the darkness of Anatolia and Iraq, I was struck by the lights and opulence of Kuwait – cities lit up all along the coast. As we descended over the coast to land, we saw the ghostly downward-pointing white light of street lamps illuminating an oil refinery, which seemed to glow in the lit up dust floating in the air. We landed at 18:54 Kuwaiti time. Home again.
The next two days were a lesson in patience. It began with our getting “volunteered” to serve on the baggage unloading detail (we were sitting in the “wrong” part of the plane, obviously!), which involved hand dragging 300+ duffel bags and luggage boxes out of the hold to the conveyer belt. And all while bent over, as the ceiling was only five feet high. On the plus side, I was able to grab my backpack. The bus ride back to Ali was easy, though delayed (of course), which was followed by everyone lining up behind a sign labeled with their destination air base (i.e. Tallil, Baghdad, Kirkuk, etc.). Well, as you may have guessed, Basrah didn’t have a sign since it isn’t a US base. So… I get in the Kuwait line and just get a tent for the night. The plan is to get picked up by a convoy the next day. Unfortunately, after spending six hours waiting in my tent, it turns out the convoy was cancelled (which I didn’t find out until checking my e-mail after I’d given up). So, another night at Ali while I figure out how to get on a UK flight out of Kuwait. The next morning I try to board a shuttle bus to the other airbase and get asked, “Hey, where’s your bus pass?” You can imagine my reply? “Er, what?” or something like that. Basically I have to sweet talk the admin guys into giving me a pass, which is difficult because I’m both an unusual case (“Basrah… Where’s that?” or “There aren’t no Americans there”, etc.) and because, oddly enough, I have nothing on me actually saying I’m stationed at Basrah. Eventually solved by calling up the base and confirming I’m supposed to be there. So I get on the shuttle, find the British air movement people and get on a flight that evening, arriving home four full days after I left BWI. Whew.
And the ironic part? If not for the exhaustion and the memories (and the mouse I found living under my cot), its’ as if I never left…
All sorts of new Brits in the office (none of whom are up to the standards of beauty of the last class of British Army women, sadly). I know, I know, the difficulties of being deployed… (sigh)
On my way home from work (where I had 1,981 e-mails waiting for me) in the dark, it was raining lightly and the evening air was chilly. A nice change from when I left, when it was still beastly hot. Now the British medical people are never happy, of course, so they sent out a warning about the “increased threat of diarrhea and vomiting owing to the wet environment, increased fly population and cooler weather.” Sheesh.
As I sit here tapping (‘cause I can’t sleep), I hear the thunder and rain of a heavy storm passing overhead. Despite the foreboding I have about all the sand-turning-into-mud, at least it’ll keep Haji indoors, and not setting up rockets to attack us (see, I always find the silver lining!).
And I was right, nothing last night. Hey, here's a pic from some soldiers responding to Sen. Kerry's silly comment a few weeks ago.
Tim
Fair Winds and Following Sands!