Don't drive angry

Have you seen Groundhog Day? Baghdad, Iraq is nothing like Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, although there is a large rodent running around here, but I don't think his name is Phil. Next time I see him, I'll ask, but he looks like he might be named Benito.  "Baghdad Benito."  Yeah, that works.

OK, none of that was true. I guess I'm getting a bit loopy from lack of sleep. Those who know me well know I can't just transition from some cognitive activity and go straight to bed. I have to unwind. Watch a little TV, check email, whatever. That's all well and good, but by the time I get back to the CHU, it is often close to 22:00, sometimes later. So, after I unwind, it can be near midnight, and 06:00 comes early (I Got You, Babe!). Tomorrow--Sunday--I'll be able to sleep in...'til 07:30.  Woo hoo! (It's good to woo hoo every once in a while...opens up the pores and forestalls baldness, they say.)

I called my brother today. Nice chat. He was inquiring about all the usual stuff: my job, my accommodations, the heat, entertainment (ha!), etc. While I just see my circumstances here as only mildly inconvenient especially as compared to those warriors in much more austere conditions, it was interesting to hear his reaction to what I was saying. By the way, it's apparently been really hot in Atlanta.

One of the guys in my office is redeploying, and he's selling his bike to me. Glad to have some wheels for a change. The bus is a workable transportation option, but I look forward to the flexibility of coming and going whenever I'm ready, not when the "White Line" timetable dictates.

If there's anything I've learned by being deployed is that I can actually survive without a daily dose of political discourse as presented by the American media. Yes, we have AFN, but, the shows I like aren't on when I'm in my CHU. In the DFAC, they have a bunch of flat screen TVs, and they display closed captioning, but it's difficult to eat while watching the words scroll by. Look away for just a second and you miss a lot. So I've learned to adapt. I think I've finally overcome my withdrawal symptoms, although Keith Olbermann is still a pompous ass. And Wolf Blitzer, well he just sucks.

As Phil Connors told Ned Ryerson, "I would love to stay here and talk with you... but I'm not going to."

Good night.

Lohan who?

A friend of mine wrote the following on her Facebook page yesterday:

Lohan who? I can't believe the news coverage being given to a spoiled 20-something year old. Here are a few 20 year-olds worth knowing about: Justin Allen 23, Brett Linley 29, Matt Weikert 29, Justus Bartett 27, Dave Santos 21, Chase Stanley 21, Jesse Reed 26, Matthew King 23, Christopher Goeke 23, & Sheldon Tate 27. These 20-somethings gave their lives for you this week.

Her post really struck me. Like a lit match in a dark room, it stood in stark contrast to anything else people are talking about. It's tragic, of course, that anyone dies at such a young age, even for a noble cause. But it's a worse travesty that fewer and fewer people take notice. After all, the sacrifice of these "20-somethings" helped preserve the liberties, rights, and freedoms we possess.

--

I just wanted to say that I really appreciate the kind words of support folks have sent my way, and the many thank-yous I've heard. For the most part, Julie, Ken and I are doing fine. But for some families, deployment is quite a hardship, especially for those who serve on the homefront. So, if you ever have an opportunity, find a deployed Soldier's (or Sailor's or Airman's or Marine's) wife, husband, son, daughter, mom, or dad, and ask what they need. Usually, the answer is "nothing", but there's always some small way to help them endure the absence of their loved one. Pay special attention to those young wives and new moms who quickly become overwhelmed when there's no one to help share the load. Cut their grass, shovel their snow, babysit their kids. In this way, you'll be serving your country every bit as honorably as those of us here in the sandbox. It turns out service members like to say "thank you" too!

Abi out.

Half day, full moon

It's Sunday, which gives me some respite from the daily grind of financing the war. It's not so bad here, you know. There are many service men and women in worse circumstances than I find myself. One of the best newspapers I've ever read is the daily Stars and Stripes, which we get for free here. For good or ill, they tell it like it is when it comes to the stark reality of war. Almost daily, I read with sadness about the brave folks who pay the ultimate price as they fight for something bigger than themselves. Just looking at the numbers, those in Afghanistan have it the worst, but Thursday, S&S reported on a mortar attack which killed 3 folks and injured 15 (2 Americans) at the Embassy in the IZ (downtown Baghdad). I bring all this up not to cause consternation for my family and friends, but to give context when I say I think this is one of the best jobs I've had in my military career.

If you don't know, I was a willing (eager?) volunteer to deploy. I've always felt that my role as a mission support officer was missing a key element: a more direct contribution to the fight. Granted, the job I'm doing now is a staff job, and by all rights, could be done stateside. (Think of USF-I as a mini-Pentagon in Iraq.) However, just being here gives a perspective that simply isn't possible to gain if you've never been here. There's a greater 'sense of urgency' as we say, and it makes the time I'm away from home not insufferable. Add to that fact, I'm more comfortable now in my ongoing role of imitating a finance officer. So, all in all, not so bad.

--
I've cleaned my room of the week's accumulation of dust. It's probably preferable to the mud that will come with the rainy season. Maybe I'll escape most of that. With everything spic and span, I'm just taking it easy, catching up on email and Facebook, and, of course, posting to Abi. There's not much to do here, as you might expect (though I say that from the perspective that, given my schedule, I have little time to do anything). But it's nice to have a few hours today to clear my mind before a new week begins. There was a full moon last night, the second I've seen since I've been here. So, add that to the list of my time-marking activities: counting full moons. Just five more to go...

Two hats

So, there I was...

(Where the hell were you?)

... sitting with two of my coworkers in the DFAC last night, choking down whatever gruel they had served up, when a soldier walks up to our table, reaches under the table cloth (really plastic) at the end of the table just to my left, and pulls out his hat. He said he had forgotten it, and--apparently noticing the quizzical looks on our faces--commented that it's where he keeps his hat while he's dining (his secret stash, as he called it). We all muttered a cacophony of huh's and hmm's and oh-I-see's, thinking it was kinda weird, but whatever worked for him was fine with us. Besides, we'd all seen stranger things around here. Who were we kidding? Most things around here are strange.

The soldier left, and we went back to our meals.

The conversation had finally regained its previous flow, and about 10 minutes had passed when another soldier--apparently completely unknown to the first--reaches under the table plastic at the other end of the table, and pulls out his hat. After we stopped laughing at this bizarre repeat performance, we all paused, seemingly on cue, and pondered the possibility that we'd just been punked. Hat 1 was weird, but Hat 2 had to be a setup. I began looking for Allen Funt.

Now pause for a moment and consider where those hats were: beneath a covering on a table that has seen years and years of food spillage, together with all the dust and dirt that pervades this place. Maybe it's just me, but you'd think the Army would have dedicated a few precious moments during basic training to explain to these fine, young Grunts the storage opportunities afforded by the innumerable pockets scattered all over their uniforms.

Then again, maybe I'm just talking out of my hat.

Long day

I spent a lot of time running around today. I had PT this morning...again, the heat was oppressive, even by 06:30. Quick shower, then to chow, then to the CHU to pick up dirty laundry, then to the laundry to drop off and pickup. Oops, not enough time to drop off clean laundry then get to the bus on time; guess I'll carry my laundry to work with me. Lots of hot potato(e)s at work. Have a VTC at the palace at 13:00. Guess I'll wait until after to get lunch. The VTC runs long due to technical difficulties. Have to walk (in the heat) to chow, then back to work. Catch a ride back to the palace for another meeting (brief to a general). Walk (in the heat) to nearest bus stop to get back to work. Plan to leave a little early tonight, but no...the boss calls everyone to dinner...can't leave from dinner, so come back to work for an hour or so. Upload a pantload (thanks E*TRADE baby) of pictures to Facebook (see links below)...chat with son...talk to wife...post to Abi...

I'm done! Enjoy the pics.

Odds and Ends:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=17701&id=100000403285313&l=4fa18c325b

Al Faw Palace:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=17700&id=100000403285313&l=60c83326b1

Picnic in 120-degree heat:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=17699&id=100000403285313&l=c93e4bb87c

View from a bus:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=17698&id=100000403285313&l=758e9cac50

Deployment to Iraq: Hails and Farewells:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=17695&id=100000403285313&l=cdc42277ba

A flame about 3 feet high

Have I mentioned it's hot here? How about a few heat anecdotes?

1. The Boss (Army colonel) was driving us to the Palace for a meeting with the DCoS (Army one-star) in his SUV. There's really no reason to turn on the a/c because the "cool" air becomes hot again by the time it reaches the cabin. So, we ride with the windows down, which just keeps the car from being a greenhouse, but it doesn't make you cooler. Today was particularly windy, too (there were whitecaps on the pond). As we turned into the parking lot, the left side of the car was into the wind, so through the open window came a blast of superheated air, coupled with a heavy dose of the omnipresent dust that pervades this God-forsaken shithole. I turned to the Boss, and in fine Army fashion declared, "This does not suck enough!" Pleased with my apparent knowledge of grunt mores, he replied, "It could definitely suck more!" The meeting went off without a hitch.

2. Although it's oppressively hot now, word is that August is worse. Highs some days between 130 and 140. It dawned onto me that, after August, it will then cool down to what it's like right now. Joy.

3. Have I mentioned the "Little Brown CHU"? If not, check out this photo on my Facebook account. Aaaaand we're back. The Little Brown CHU outside our office is on the south side of the building, which means the sun cooks it...all...day...long. [Warning: If you don't want the mental image I'm about to put in your brain, stop reading now.] Normally, I'm a morning kind of guy, but when duty calls (yes, I said duty), a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do (I meant that, two..er..too!). Mind you, ass-uming the position is a bit of a production, what with having to doff the M-9 holster and uniform blouse with less room than is afforded in a phone booth. Then I sit (no typo, s-i-t). As it turns out, "a 120-degree plastic toilet seat" is a much better answer to that childhood riddle^** than is the title of this post.

Have I mentioned it's hot here?


^** "You know what burns my ass?"

What the hell does Abi do all day, anyway?

As promised, here's my stab at explaining how the US Government gets consideration for its semi-monthly deposit into my checking account.

There's no typical day in terms of what I do at work, but my schedule has trended toward predictable, so I'll start with that:

• 06:10 - Alarm goes off
• 06:20 - $#!+, shower, and shave
• 06:45 - Back at the CHU, get dressed, catch up on FB and email
• 07:15 - Head to the DFAC for breakfast (2 English muffins with strawberry jam, a bowl of fruit, two orange juice boxes)
• 08:03 - Catch the bus to work
• 08:15 - At work
• 12:12 - Catch bus to get lunch (I always include a salad)
• 13:03 - Catch bus to return to work
• 13:15 - At work
• 19:42 - Catch bus to get supper (see previous post to this blog)
• 20:30 - Either go back to work or go to CHU, depending on what needs to be done
• 11:30 (at the latest) - lights out

Wash, rinse, repeat. I do get a 1/2 day off every Sunday morning. Kind of a mini deployment vacation!

Now, while I'm at work:

My job title is "Chief, Requirements Validation Division". I work on the United States Forces in Iraq (USF-I) joint staff. In particular, I work for the J8 (Comptroller). My job requires that I oversee a repeating 3-week process. Each week, a new iteration begins on Sunday. So, at any given time, I'm tracking issues for three iterations of the process. "So, what is this process of which you speak?" Well, I'm glad you asked!

Units at bases throughout Iraq have need of various services (security, base life support, aircraft maintenance, etc.). These services cost money, of course, and the J8 is the keeper of the dough. My job is to vet these "requirements" to ensure they are in keeping with the USF-I commander's strategy, policy, and objectives. I help the units get what they truly need, but I guard the resource (the money) by advising the commander's deputy chief of staff (DCoS)--the approval authority--on what is truly a "requirement" versus what is just a "desirement". I won't bore you with the nuts and bolts of the process, but all this takes about 3 weeks from the time I get the requirement until the DCoS makes his final decision.

The complicating factor right now is that units have, for so long, been in a pseudo-steady-state posture, and it was fairly easy to demonstrate why certain requirements were necessary to complete the mission. Now, however, USF-I has a target date of 31 Dec 2011 to be out of Iraq. In order to do this, we need to reduce the number of people (both US forces and support contractors) over the next 18 months. The rate of that reduction is critical, and tied closely to base closures and eliminating need for certain services. Forgive the analogy, but now, as the swamp drains, the alligators are fighting over the shrinking pools. Eventually, all the alligators will be gone, but I'm sort of an alligator therapist who helps the critters cope with the loss of habitat.

So there it is...clear as mud. I'm happy to entertain questions. Just post a comment and I'll elucidate.

Time to go to work (see above for details).

Nothing in particular

Yeah, I got nothing. No witticism, no narrative, no theme. Unless 'no theme' is itself a theme. Whatever. Tonight, I figured I'd just document some of the many random thoughts that go through my head each day.

There are two items I brought with me that I'm extremely thankful I did: My sandals and my Inova keychain LED flashlight. The sandals save me from wearing either my running shoes or my flip-flops to the shower. The flashlight hangs on my dogtag chain, which is why I like it so much. Useful for getting to the bus stop without tripping when I leave work after dusk.

Speaking of work, it turns out the long hours are easier to tolerate when there's no one to come home to at night.

I used to count my steps between my CHU and the latrine, but stopped doing it after a while. I guess I'm not so Monk-ish after all.

I usually enjoy group sports for PT, but the two times I've had PT since I've been here, I've dehydrated to the point of getting a headache which lasted most of the day. I drink a lot of water, but I don't really have anywhere to store it. Such is my lot.

I find that I'm pestered by a low-level anxiety over when the rainy season might start. The dust is bad enough, but I really don't want to deal with keeping my CHU free of mud. OK, maybe I am that Monk-ish.

Morale calls are limited to 15 minutes. There is no warning when your time is about to run out.

My desk at work is not very big, so I rearranged the computers and phones so I'd have more room to make a mess. It worked. The mess is bigger.

I mark time in several ways:
- Every 18 days is 10% of my time here.
- Each week I honcho a briefing for the Deputy Chief of Staff. Each week, I use a new folder to keep my slides. I number the folders sequentially starting with my first one two weeks ago, so when I get to 26, I'm going home.
- I'm on a daily regimen of Oracea, and I brought 180 pills. When the bottle's empty...
- My birthday will be my halfway point.

Ironically, despite the previous list, things really aren't so dreadful, once I get past the fact that I'm away from home. I'm constantly amazed that I'm here, making decisions and recommendations that directly affect warfighters. But not just that, I'm here at a time when we're heavily focused on drawing down so we can turn everything back over to the Iraqis and get our troops back home. So, I'm here during the formative period as Iraq tries democracy for a change. Kewl.

OK, enough brain vomit. Gonna go check in with CinC House. Abi out.

Well, it damn sure isn't Subway!

Sometimes I get so wrapped up in what I'm doing that an hour can go by and I don't even notice. That's what happened to me tonight: I lost track of time at work and missed supper. There are multiple factors which led to my tactical error: (a) the DFAC (dining facility/chow hall) closes at 20:30; (b) the bus only runs twice an hour; and (c) I was busy. Usually, I leave in time to catch the 18:12 bus, then return at 19:12. The latest I can catch the bus is 20:12 and still get a hot meal (drop off is at 20:20). Maybe I should set the alarm on my watch.

Don't get me wrong, I got food...if you call a sandwich on stale wheat bread, crisps, and a box of orange juice 'food'. At least it gave me some calories. My biggest disappointment isn't that I lost out on getting a hot meal. Rather, I regret I didn't get the chance to partake of my new favorite nightly indulgence. No, not rich, chocolaty Ovaltine and animal crackers. Nay, nay. Say hello to my new fav: a giant scoop of Baskin Robbins vanilla ice cream topped with an excessive helping of blueberry and whipped cream layer cake. Ooohhh, yeah!

But what, you may ask, was I doing that would keep me away from my evening rendezvous with such a scrumptious delight? Well, I think I'll save such a mundane topic for a later update to AGTI (working title, "What the hell does Abi do all day, anyway?"). Instead, tonight I'd rather just pine for my Sweet.

Rules

Here in Baghdad, we have a bunch of rules that don't exist back home. For example, we're required to carry our weapon at all times. We must wear a reflective belt if outside between the hours of dusk and dawn. Military personnel may never wear civilian clothes. No one of the opposite sex may be in your room (even if you're married to someone else who's here). Of course there are more rules, but that's not the point. Yes, there's an additional rule set here, but let's not forget the 'old' one still applies...

Today, an officer on the joint staff was given an early re-deployment date. I don't know the exact details (though I wouldn't share them if I did), but suffice to say, it was not for neglecting to wear a reflective belt at night. The irony for me is two-fold. First, I was impressed with this person from the start. Sharp, confident, intelligent. By all outward appearances, the kind of person from whom you believe you can expect the best. Second, only yesterday I was talking with the Deputy J8 about how people get here and feel free to do as they please. Most of the willful infractions are minor (improper uniform wear, failing to salute, etc.). But some are not so inconsequential. I don't envy this young officer, who'll arrive back home only to face a barrage of questions by coworkers, friends, and family. Perhaps the most difficult question to answer will be, simply, "Why?"

What a shame.

How many candles did you say?

For those Google Maps junkies out there, I thought I'd give you some perspective on my geographical situation. Click on the links to see (a) where I live, (b) where I eat, and (c) where I work. The satellite photos are very old. There are lots more buildings now, and the living quarters (CHUs) are not shown, but instead some sort of tents, I think.

Enough of that.

I'm watching Paraguay vs. Spain in the World Cup quarterfinals as I surf the web. Nil-nil at halftime. I just got off the "phone" with my Mom, then later, Julie. I'm thinking it's a titty bit nippley in here, so I'll turn up the temp on the A/C. And since tomorrow is Sunday, I guess I'll sleep in a little. Gee, it hardly sounds like I'm deployed, does it?

Tomorrow marks the 234th birthday of your country and mine. So here's the thing: I'm doing a staff job; it's not like I'm going toe-to-toe with the enemy. Now, it's true I'm receiving Hostile Fire Pay, Imminent Danger Pay, and Hazardous Duty Pay, but there are warriors outside the wire that are earning those same special pays. So tomorrow, while you're enjoying your beer and hot dogs, don't forget those guys at the pointy end of the spear. Take a moment to gather everyone together and spend a few minutes talking about what a great country we live in, and how fortunate we are to have young men and women willing to pay--or to actually pay--the ultimate price to provide the freedoms we all enjoy.

Abi out.