Transition

November 13th, 2005- I talked to a soldier in our unit about why we are here in the middle east. My argument ultimately came down to the fact that we are making an investment here, knowing that there will be returns (of many types) in the future. I had solidified my own reasons for being here a long time ago, but also realized in the course of the evening that I am indeed making an investment in myself. I had to come and see what things were really like here- I had to come and be a part of history while there was history to be made, at least for the time being. I'm here to learn how to be a leader, because higher leadership can't be tought doing trust falls. I'm here to learn skills that cannot be learned in a classroom. I'm here to make some kind of difference. Perhaps this is why I had such an easy time explaining things to him. When politics evolve (or digress, depending on how one analyzes the situation) into military action, the 'why' part is already old news. 'Why' will always be a factor, but it will have a different role. Thus it is important to know why you are there, and not why we are there. The two are rarely the same.

I got to talk to mom and dad for the first time today, and had the luck to take a hot shower. My how the little things make a huge difference. We had a brief tonight concerning IEDs that I had sat through probably ten or eleven times in different various forms. I was disinterested enough to start daydreaming a bit, thinking about different times and places. Despite what people may say to you, sometimes you wonder if anyone really knows you're gone.

November 14th, 2005- We went to another range and did Zeros and Qualification with our M16s and M4s. It seems to me like that's all Kuwait is- one long ass range sitting upon a load of crude oil. We also did some Close Quarter Battle training, which is a refreshing change from the 'old style' of military marksmanship. Instead of training to pick off swarms of Soviet Infantrymen rushing through Eastern Europe, we train to bring our weapons up quickly and engage targets without necessarily using our iron sights. The goal is to develop muscle memory. I think that the soldiers had fun during the CQB stuff, but were pissed that we spent the day doing yet another qualification range.

Before we took off I sat and wondered if Iraq will change me all that much. We'll see.

November 15th, 2005- The days seem to run together. There aren't really days with names anymore, but rather each 24 hour period has been reduced to a number on a calendar. I used the calendar feature on my Ipod to check what day it is. Tuesday. Live Monday night football was on in the gym this morning when the LTs went to work out. It's kinda weird when you see that for the first time. I was focusing on my workout, thus I forgot who won. We're in the gym lifting to help us with our job and stay alive. Professional Football seems kinda trivial at the moment.

November 16th, 2005- Camp B (name changed due to OPSEC) isn't that much fun. It has turned into quite the military mecca since our unit arrived a few days ago. It takes much longer to get through the chow line and to use the phones. A random Captain said there were many thousands of troops coming through here in the next few weeks, which has been pretty obvious. I don't really like hanging out with National Guard units here, but they do serve as a reminder that our own unit isn't as jacked up as we previously thought. (Definitely not a blanket bash on the National Guard, as I have seen some squared away Guardsmen and Reservists) Being in-country affords one either way too much or not nearly enough time to think about things back home. You wonder about the coulda-woulda-shoulda types of things, mostly because you have no control over such things here. Oh yeah, it started raining last night. If there weren't enough issues keeping equipment and clothes clean (not to mention ourselves) now sand and dirt is turning into mud. The desert sucks, lets just get that fact out of the way right now. For the most part, rain sucks too (learned that during my last 'vacation' to Georgia). Rain in your tent which is in the desert really sucks. I am interested to see how everyone fatigues over the next few weeks and months. I wonder about myself too.

November 17th, 2005- The 25 passenger Toyota buses units use to move Soldiers around the base and Kuwait in general look a lot like 'The Mystery Machine' from Scooby-Doo. They've been affectionately nicknamed Scooby-Doo buses (or simply Scooby-Doo) by the Soldiers here, including the ones from my own unit. Today I sat in the last row of one being flung (literally) from one seat to another as the bus propelled itself over sand berms and through huge dips in the road. Six Flags has nothing on the Scooby-Doo bus. Today we moved temporarily from Camp B out to a training site, which was out in the middle of the Kuwaiti desert. We're scheduled to do additional Convoy and Gun Truck training before ultimately moving up to Iraq. It kind of feels like the months spent at Bragg training to run convoys was a waste, and that we need yet more help in getting our preverbial crap together. The Army thinks we need another week of training to top everything. Honestly I shouldn't be complaining, as we're happy to receive any additional training that might help us peform better and keep everyone alive. As good as it is, being out here seems like another week or two spent rotting in the desert, no matter how good the training is.

The Beginning

My journal from the first few days of deployment. Beware, it is unedited.



Monday, November 7th- I spent the last night in the United States sleeping on the floor of my empty apartment. The day before I hung out by a small lake on the outskirts of Fort Bragg with a buddy and his wife. I'm not sure if it was the right way to spend the day, as I had a load of things I still needed to do and I was seriously rushed this morning. Oh well.

Tuesday, November 8th- Our civilian airliner left Pope Air Force Base at roughly 0440. It was a fairly comfortable aircraft, save for the rear echelon motherfuckers (REMFs) that hogged all the business class seats on OUR aircraft. I will not allow a bunch of fucking non-combat privates to take seats that belong to hard-working troops that have seen the elephant ever again. We stopped for a a few hours in Germany, drank some coffee and tea, then left for Kuwait.

November 10th- "Fuck you." I'm not sure what ellicited that somewhat sarcastic response from my mouth, but I remember I said it very eloquently as I took another puff of my cigar. LT K chuckled quietly, then took another puff of his own cigar. Tonight we actually had some free time to hang out and pretend not to be in charge of this whole complicated operation for 20 minutes. I decide that when I go on Rest and Relaxation Leave I will go somewhere that encourages drinking. I'm not sure what spurred this thought, but it seems like a good idea at the moment.

November 11th- "Go find me some [M]203 targets. I want some cool-ass shit!" -The CO
Myself and another Lieutenant drove around the Camp today searching for objects that would make good grenade launcher and machine gun targets. Items found (and pilfered) included sinks, toilets, doors, traffic cones, and one large water heater. It's not a good idea to tell two vindictive LTs to go find things to shoot with heavy weapons and leave it at that. Because we *will* find stuff, regardless of the situation. We had enough M249 (light machine gun) rounds to nearly saw the water heater in half. It was a pretty good day. In Kuwait we use Mitsubishi Monteros (called a 'Pajero' here) instead of Humvees. That's fine with me, as now we have stereos in the vehicles and Kuwaiti radio really isn't all that bad. Cheers.

Wherever You Go, There You Are.

Or in my case, here I am. I want everyone to know that I've made it successfully to Iraq, and the overall things are fine. Kuwait was pretty boring apart from a week straight of training out in the middle of the desert. I can't and won't be too specific about things, but I've been sleeping a lot less and trying to do as much as I can to get my soldiers ready for upcoming missions.

I've been keeping a daily journal of everything going on, and will post all non-sensitive items from it as soon as I have a chance. We've got a lot more internet access now, and I happen to have stumbled on a way to post more frequently by accident. I'll also send out an email to everyone I've gotten an address from in the past few months. I will say that the dust is no joke here, and it's playing hell with the lungs of myself and my soldiers. I've got a lot of interesting stories to tell, and will post updates on how things are going from my point of view. Either way, stay tuned.

Article

This is an article that I wrote for the Fort Bragg newspaper a while back. Names and specifics have been changed to protect the vigilant.

_______________________________________________

By LT Taylor

An FMTV rolled up from behind the disabled HMMWV, providing left flank security with its big M-2 .50 cal. machine gun. The gunner behind the ‘Ma Deuce’ scanned the horizon along the halted convoy’s most vulnerable side. Two crewmen from other vehicles rushed out to attach recovery equipment from the disabled humvee to the vehicle directly to its front.

“Incoming fire, eleven o’clock, 500 meters!” One of the drivers yelled into his radio. Others listening on the convoy’s internal radio net echoed the phrase. The gunners on both the FMTV and the lead vehicle immediately initiated fire with their crew-served weapons, suppressing the simulated enemy fire. The crewmembers quickly returned to their vehicles as expended casings fell into the dirt around them. With the equipment firmly attached to the designated recovery vehicle, the convoy moved out, the disabled vehicle safely in tow.

In July, Bravo *****, ************* ******************* conducted live fire convoy operations at Range ** as part of their pre-deployment training. “We’ve visited Range ** ****** times in the past six months, as it is one of the largest driving ranges on Fort Bragg,” noted Bravo Sergeant Tyler. “[Range] ** affords our soldiers the opportunity to face scenarios similar to what we will see in Iraq.”

The unit will not be firing their ************* when they deploy in the fall. The *********** will trade their howitzers for armored trucks and serve as convoy security elements. Vehicle recovery at Range ** was one drill that included actions on enemy contact and reacting to blocked ambushes. Bravo Battery soldiers also rehearsed reacting to improvised explosive devices (IEDs), driving with night vision goggles, and changing tires. “We went through pretty realistic training out on the range. Even little things like riding with the [vehicle] windows up can make a noticeable difference,” said Specialist Wilson. To make training as realistic as possible, vehicles were loaded late in the evening and continued to operate in convoys through the night. Soldiers experienced the difficulty of remaining tactically alert after many hours of driving. Despite the challenges they will face in the coming months and during their deployment, the Bravo ******* ‘Bulldogs’ will continue the proud tradition of the Airborne in Iraq.

Rules

Through the grapevine I came upon a set of 'rules' that some grunts had put together. In light of my own pending departure to the sandbox I'm posting the rules that I feel especially relevent. If you or someone you know is the original author please let me know so the credit can go to the right place.

5. If it can go wrong, it will.

10. Always have a backup plan. Have a back up plan for that.

11. There is no such thing as 'friendly' fire.

12. Mortars do whistle, you just have to be close enough to hear them. They make a distinct sound when they land.

14. The friendships forged here are to the death.

15. You can't get along with anyone for a year, especially when you live in the same room with people.

18. Fool-proof plans aren't.

19. Even if you plan for everything, 'they' will come up with at least one new trick.

21. The 'kindler-gentler' Army is a crock of shit.

22. If you count on someone, they will more than likely let you down.

26. If doesn't matter if you are a nice guy or not, you will be taken advantage of.

28. The greatest invention was the laptop computer. The second greatest was headphones.

29. You can do everything right and still die.

30. Don't trust anyone except yourself, and be wary of him.

35. You will hear every story that a buddy has to tell, twice.

42. Sometimes shooting first and asking questions later isn't a bad idea.

53. 'Jody' calls aren't just a part of running. You will learn that a buddy's wife or girlfriend left him. You will listen to his pain, you will sample the rage, and you will feel the hate.

54. Soldiers will always bitch about everything.

55. It doesn't matter how bad 'their' aim is, they will get lucky eventually.

Images

Beats a suit and tie.

Images

The bus, waiting on the curb. Who needs an airfield?

Number Nine

Wednesday, October 5th.

Today we had the last jump we're going to experience for a long time. The wind was high, and the Air Force was about as decisive as Rosie O'Donnell at an all-you-can-eat buffett. Paratrooper injuries go up proportionally with wind speed. Despite some precautions we had eight or nine guys end up in the Field Ambulance (Medic's humvee) after every group had jumped. A Lieutenant I work with ended up with a concussion. I think luck was on my side today, as I had a great exit from the aging C-130H, and also a fairly soft landing on the DZ. After impacting (not landing) back onto the earth, it takes a second to make sure everything is working and is still in the right spot. The Field Ambulances roam the DZ after each chalk (group of paratroopers) lands to make sure everyone is ok. The injury for me was my ID card, which had a corner broken off. I'm not sure how that happened, as it was in my left breast pocket during the jump. I left after jumping, as there were still some things to be accomplished back at the office. I had been on the main post for about five minutes before the clouds started dumping rain. I felt lucky at the time, but unlucky four days later when the rain had not stopped.

Nice

Wednesday, September 28th, 2005.

The humid blast furnace that is the Carolina Summer has finally been turned off. Today is one of the prettiest and most comfortable days I've experienced since I left Colorado. There are few things more satisfying than driving around (albeit still getting things done) with the windows down and the sunroof open. I'm ecstatic that I finally get to do this here.

More of the Same

Yeah, I've been lax on posting lately. Can't be helped.

The good news- all the things we need that are not being personally carried by individual paratroopers are no longer any of our concern. As a unit we accomplished a tremendous amount of work in a very short amount of time. One of our sister units took twice as long to complete the same task. Go us.
Despite nearing our departure for other parts of the world, we continue to jump. This week there are several jumps that I hope I make it in on. Jumps nine and ten are right around the corner.

I've been a bit of an insomniac lately, which is why I am writing this and not sleeping. Scattered thoughts seem to come with that. I've got a lot of random things I will post soon. Goodnight all.

Beans and Bullets

I haven't posted much over the past two weeks, simply because there is nothing all that extraordinary to write about. We continue to prep for the move over to the Middle East. Inventories and Paperwork and Bears, oh my!

We had a fun jump today over on Sicily drop zone that went really well. However it required being at Pope AFB before the bars were even closed in Boulder. Oh well. Riding around in a C-17 at 500 feet AGL and jumping beats fighting a hangover. Lots of PT is on the plate for tomorrow anyway, along with a longer post.

Images

Guess what is going on my Humvee...

This Old Container...

Got to play Bob Villa today, and used the majority of the day building shelves inside containers that the unit is going to use during deployment. I've stated it before, but working outside (on most days) beats being stuck inside an office with no windows. Work gets better with firearms or power tools. Myself and another Lieutenant had a few joes (enlisted soldiers) help out with a few tasks, and managed to outfit an entire container with two sets of shelves to throw crap on. We managed to keep all the fingers and eyes we started with.

The unit ran a 7 miler this morning for PT. I'm a little bit quicker on my feet than most of the other guys, so I started in the 'fast' group and was charged with catching with the slower runners who had started the course earlier. I think I passed about half the unit before I finished. My left knee is still giving me trouble. I'm ok when I run, but have a decent amount of trouble immediately after I stop. Ice and Ranger candy (motrin/ibuprofen) have been helping quite a bit, and I'm also going to try some different stuff with my shoes. (Even possibly different shoes.)

Professional life will be pretty boring until we're in-country. I'll keep posting though.

Gotta be Handy With the Steel

September 7th, 2005

Didn't do too much today, but I did get to go out and fire 9mm pistols with an MP unit who happened to have a gross excess of ammunition. Taking some initiative, I asked about going to this particular range yesterday, but the CO shot me down. He cited that others in the unit supposedly have priority for ammunition, one thing we never seem to have in sufficient quantity. This stems from allocation errors by desk jockeys way above my level. I will conceede that other individuals might have priority on the M9 (current Army issued 9mm pistol), but they won't be outside the wire on convoy escort half as much as I am. The pistol is a tool in a toolbox I intend to make as big as possible. It's my own opinion that we need to get as much experience with various weapons before leaving NC, no matter what the probability is of actually having to use that particular weapon. Some of my peers do not agree. All of this can be derived from the 'Warrior' mindset, and the willingness to learn one's craft. There are many here that possess this mindset. There are also many that do not, which disturbs me.

Either way, I tracked down my driver and a vehicle to transport myself (Since no one else wanted to go) to the range. I'm really glad I got out of the office, as the weather was just about perfect today. It's one of those days that makes you glad to be in a profession that spends a decent amount of time outside, as opposed to being stuck always flying a desk or occupying a cubicle. The oppressive heat in NC has disappeared, at least temporarily. Private Charlie rolled up in a Humvee with the top and doors removed, exactly the way one would want to cruise around on a day like this. Maybe someday I'll roll around Boulder with the same setup. Maybe.

I arrived at the range, checked in with the First Lieutenant running the range, and was almost immediately handed an handful of high capacity magazines. I think I blew through 20 or 25 mags in a 40 minute period. Not bad for one afternoon. Who doesn't like keeping the barrels hot?

Images

Don't leave your stuff unattended.

Not going to see the Wizard

Choices

This image has much deeper implications than simply where to sit at the race track.

Thank God I'm a Country Boy?

This past Saturday night I went out with some guys from work. Not necessarily an unusual event, save for the fact that I went with them to the local Stock Car Races, something I haven't done previously. Since I enjoy racing, bellowing V8 engines, and chili dogs, it seemed like a sound choice. No beer pong this weekend.

My baptisim into one of the purest forms of Southern culture (auto racing exhibiting only left turns) was pretty fun. First, let me state that I am accepting of most all human cultures, as long as blatantly moronic practices are kept to a minimum. Let me also state that I come from a middle-class neighborhood in Colorado (very much disconnected from the South), and went to a big liberal State-sponsored Yuppie College. Despite the departure from my regular weekend activities, I had a pretty good time. I will say that this was the first 'sporting' event I have attended where one was allowed to bring a given amount of beer in. I wore a decent size assault pack to the track, and didn't warrant a second look by the guy manning the gate and taking tickets. I doubt this trick can be pulled off many places in the country. It's a pity I didn't take more advantage of it, I only had one beer.

Saturday night racing accurately reflects the relative level of driver skill in North Carolina. It appeared (to me) that the local high school drivers' ed class was filling in behind the wheel tonight. For every lap actually raced, there were 4 or 5 laps under the yellow flag. Unorganized vehicular chaos beats one lap after another with no other action, however.

Guns, Lots of Guns

August 30th, 2005

I sat in my arms room most of the day and checked the cleaniness of soldier's weapons and doing various officework. I say 'my' arms room because I'm the Arms Room Officer. It sounds kinda cool, but isn't. Think about the same time you moved. Remember all the crap you packed up? Did you have expensive or fragile stuff? Yeah, those things probably made moving more difficult. Now think if you were moving and had enough weapons and other cool toys to start a small rebel uprising. Think about if you were moving overseas, across a ton of international borders, and into a war zone. Now you get the idea.

Don't Hold Your Breath

August 29th, 2005

All our guys did a lap through the Gas Chamber today. Pretty fun to watch, until it's your turn to go in. Living in Boulder for a few years probably helps with one's tolerance towards tear gas though, as I had an easier time than a lot of our other guys did. I was ballsy and stayed in the chamber a bit longer, just to spite the Sergeant running everything and those who were afraid to take off their gas masks. It's a fun game, seeing how long you can keep your eyes open before you stumble to the door.

Hooray (?) beer

August 28th, 2005

I woke up this morning and had half a moment of clarity. I say half because I was hanging over pretty bad. I realized I don't like drinking much anymore. I should have been at home, in the big-ass bed I bought when I got to North Carolina, sleeping peacefully. Instead I was sitting upright in my a recliner at my buddy Rob's house, which I had eventually passed out in. Much of the Mojave desert was not as dry as my mouth was at the time. Still sitting in the recliner, I could see out the window to his backyard, where some of the bright red keg cups had fallen off the beer pong table onto the wooden deck. Yeah, definitely went too many rounds of that nonsense last night. Sometimes it's easy to forget that I'm not in college anymore. I'm not talking trash in the SigEp basement, trying to impress the random women watching the game. Furthernore, it now takes way too long for me to recover and screws me up for PT on the weekends. I find a bit of comfort in the fact that I won't be drinking at all for a year while I'm deployed. Booze has no place in a combat zone. Or in me for that matter. At some point something will click in my mind, and I'll loose all interest in that next beer. I think that just happened. Cheers.