Leaning Forward In The Saddle

When we moved north, near the border, our camp was pretty much prepared for us. Before we arrived, engineers plowed up the soil and made some three-sided bunkers where we could park our aircraft. Each of the three walls was about 7 or 8 feet high. I recall seeing just the rotors poking out over the tops.

Since we knew we wouldn't be staying there very long, we didn't set up as sophisticated a camp as we did down south. We did set up our large tents (GP Large for those who know the Army lingo) and squeezed over twelve people in each of them. That wasn't terribly crowded, but certainly not as spacious as the setup we had before with some folks sleeping in hootches instead of the tents.

The (In)famous Saudi Flood
While we were there in the Middle East it rained a lot. I don't know if this was a verified fact, but we were told more rain fell during those months than in the previous several years combined. When it rained hard enough, areas which consisted of lose, powdery sand turned into quagmires something like quicksand. That muck hardened into a concrete-like state when the sun came out again and baked it dry. Vehicles stuck in that mess required extrication with heavy equipment.

The rain got us one fateful night.

Little did we realize, at this new camp we had put up one of our tents in a dry stream bed. Unfortunately, this happened to be the tent I was sleeping in. Something we should have known being stationed in the desert near El Paso and most of us having experience in the Mojave Desert near Barstow, California is what a dry steam bed looked like. Somehow we missed this one. We also didn't notice that the great bunkers set up by the engineers to protect our aircraft also acted as earthen dams blocking the dry steam bed in which we had set up our tent.

One night it started raining like crazy. Sometime around Midnight a flash flood hit our camp, and specifically our tent. We were asleep and didn't realize the water was rising, and pooling, until someone, probably whoever was on guard duty, came and woke us up.

While we in the one tent were rushing around in the dark trying to figure out what to do, the guys in the other tent were having a party. I distinctly remember hearing "Break On Through" by The Doors playing loudly on a boom box. At one point I stuck my head through the flaps of their tent and saw Flickster spraying glow stick juice all over the inside of the tent. He cut the top off the plastic stick, which allowed the glowing liquid to shoot out the end and stick to the inside of the tent. It looked like a psychedelic concert going on in there with glowing yellow, blue and red liquid lighting up the canvas ceiling.

After a while of us panicking at the rising water, Sergeant T figured out the problem of the sand bunker blocking the stream bed. We grabbed out our entrenching tools and shovels and broke out a hole in the berm to let the water out. Once that was accomplished, the water level quickly fell and all was well. All except for Sergeant T, that is; he lost some of his stuff which was washed away in the flood.

The Night Sky
Doing guard duty at night out there in the middle of the desert offered some of the best views of the sky I've ever seen. You can't imagine the number of stars you can see when there is no ambient light pollution from city lights. It made me wonder how our ancient ancestors were able to pick out constellations. It's easy to pick out Orion, Cassiopeia or the bears in a city, but the stars which make up those formations were almost lost in the endless myriad of stars visible out in the Saudi desert.

Another thing which really struck me was the brightness of the moon. During a full moon, not only did it cast a very visible shadow you could just about read by its light. The desert has a beauty all its own, and that particular desert has a unique beauty at night.

Carpet Bombing
Something else you could see quite well at night were the fighters and bombers headed over to Iraq on their missions.

The in-flight refuel aircraft were seen as bright, flashing lights flying back and forth to the south. Other flashing lights would come join them for a time. Then they would drop away and fly in our direction. When they were just about over our camp, the flashing lights would turn off and only the sound of the jet engines would indicate they were still there.

One night, I was lying in bed listening to the B-52s flying over the camp. As I lie there reflecting on things, I remember feeling the ground shake accompanied by a low rumbling sound. I lived in California for a time, so when I describe the sensation as a small tremor, folks who have experienced that will understand what I mean. Of course, the rumbling was not from natural means; it was the result of tons of explosives being dropped on some unsuspecting Iraqi soldiers.

I remember pausing in my thoughts. Part of me really felt sorry for those guys getting pummeled. Many of those people weren't really trained soldiers, but were regular guys grabbed off the streets, handed a rifle and stuck out in the desert somewhere. At least someone with proper military training might know what to do in an air raid to increase their chance of survival. On the other hand, perhaps a bit selfishly, I was VERY grateful to be on the side delivering those bombs instead of the receiving side.

Not Again?
Another one of "those flights" happened during this time. It wasn't a border trace mission like I described in an earlier installment. I don't remember why, but we were just flying around the desert.

All of a sudden we found ourselves enveloped by a sand storm. It seemed to come out of nowhere and we were flying just about completely blind. After about fifteen minutes, The Scrounger decided to slowly descend so we could land and wait for the storm to blow over. When we got on the ground we found ourselves on a road. So, thinking it safer to troll along the ground rather than try to fly blind, we headed down the road. We weren't going too fast, but we were at least making some progress.

Sandstorms like those in the Middle East desert are something like fog. When you're in a fog bank you go through parts which are thicker than others. There are parts where visibility is better than others. It's the same in a sandstorm, there are places where visibility is better than others.

We moved into one of those areas. It cleared up enough for us to see, coming from the opposite direction along the road, a convoy of four or five Hummers. I could see looking out the front window as we did one of those high-performance takeoffs, this was a Stinger team. As we pulled up we pitched nose down just enough and long enough that I could see the faces of the two guys in the front seat of the lead vehicle. Their eyes were as big as saucers and their jaws were hanging down in their laps. That must have been quite a site to see a helicopter looming in the fog/sand and just missing them. Ironic, too, because they were an anti-aircraft team.

The ground war was looming. We'll hit that next time.

This is part 12 in a series. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19

Gearing Up For the Ground War

The Air War Begins
On the morning the "Air War" phase of Desert Storm started, we were sitting in our tent listening to the audio feed from one of the major networks on Armed Forces Radio. We were all a bit frustrated listening to the announcer describe what was happening on the screen. It was something like, "... now watch the camera on the bomb as it leaves the plane and flies down. Look at the precision as it goes through the window and then explodes." Of course, we couldn't see it. I remember watching similar scenes years later and thinking to myself, "Oh, that's what we missed that morning."

Burning Down The Town
When we received the warning that we would be moving up to the Saudi/Iraqi border, we started to dismantle the town we built. We tore down the "hootches," the goody locker, the shower, the laundry, everything that could be burned was put into the large pit where our ill-fated bunker project had started.

Oh, I forgot about the bunker ...

The Bunker
At some point after we arrived, we were tasked to build fighting positions or bunker space where we could hide in case of an air raid or ground attack. Digging in the soft sand where we were situation was easier said than done. For every shovel full of sand you threw out of a hole, another would fall back in. We filled as many sandbags as we could get hold of and tried various methods of shoring up the walls while we dug. It was no use.

To make matters worse, a certain captain ("Lenoch" we called him) loved to drive around the encampment and look for troopers wearing "dew rags." Basically, anything wrapped around the head to keep the sweat out of your eyes was forbidden. It didn't help morale that we were working on a seemingly endless and doomed task, but to add the ban on "sweat in the eye protection" was too much.

To solve the problem, Scounger and a couple other of the more handy of us got together and drew up plans for a bunker.

He arranged for some engineers to come and excavate a large hole for us. Bulldozers and backhoes made the work easy and we had a hold about 100 feet long by 50 feet wide and about 10 feet deep in a matter of a couple hours.

Once the hole was done, we started building the bunker. Basically, it was a three-room building, much like a storage shed one might build in their back yard. There was room for twenty people to be inside without it being too cramped. There were 2 doorways and slots up towards where the walls met the roof so we could shoot out if needed. It was quite a nice little building. It took a week or so to get it all done. The plan was to "shingle" the roof with sandbags to protect the top from blast and shrapnel.

Once it was done, Scrounger called his engineer friends to come and backfill the hole so the bunker would be mostly underground. The bulldozer came and started pushing sand back into the hole. Everything was working just fine until at one point the the entire structure twisted and collapsed under the weight of the sand pushing on the walls. The building was very sturdy as far as free-standing structures went. Unfortunately, it was not designed to withstand the weight of tons of sand pushing in on two or three sides.

In our "After Action Review" of the collapse, we all agreed it was a good thing no one was standing inside the bunker when the backfilling was being done. We also agree that, perhaps, if we'd had the engineer push smaller amounts of sand at a time and made three or four trips around the hole as it was filled in, the structure might have stood up. Too much weight on one side or another was too much.

Back To The Burning
As we dismantled the "town" we threw everything we couldn't carry into the pit. That included (unfortunately) a lot of stuff people from home sent us as well as a lot of other stuff. I remember commenting that we should have at least left the lumber for the Bedouins in the area as they might have found it handy to use. No, I was told it all had to either go with us or be destroyed.

We packed up our stuff, loaded it up into trucks, made sure everyone had a ride (or a seat in an aircraft) and headed to the border.

We temporarily added an extra person to our group during this time. The guy who handled the squadron's mail was also a Blackhawk crew chief. He technically worked for the headquarters, directly for Lenoch. This knucklehead didn't have enough room for all his people. When the mail guy headed up to the headquarters to catch a ride north, he was told to hitch a ride because they didn't have room for him. As an NCO this incensed me. #1 Rule: Take care of your soldiers! We had room so we grabbed him up. It took a week or two before anyone in his group noticed he was missing. Terrible.

Moving North
Here's a nice map from Wikipedia showing the locations of the units before and after the ground war:

I'm not sure if this is completely accurate. As I understood we were the last U.S. unit to the west with only the French contingent being further west.

And there we sat for another month or so. We weren't totally idle, but we really weren't in any action either ...  yet.

This is part 11 in a series. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19

The Scary Orientation Flight

Just before the start of Desert Storm itself, three additional team members were assigned to our platoon. One of the new guys was a Kuwaiti (I'll call him Ahmad) who was going to school at a university in The States when the Iraqi Army invaded his country. The other two were Arabic linguists from Fort Stewart, Georgia.

One of the two from Fort Stewart was called "Jed" because he was the oldest guy in his unit and "Jed" was similar to the Arabic word for "grandpa." He carried around a hollow body Gibson guitar, which he played rather well if memory serves. The other I'll call "Slim." he was a nice enough guy, but seemed a little skittish when he first came around.

One of the first things the three needed to do was take an orientation flight in the aircraft. First we gave them some instruction on the workings of the aircraft itself, then the equipment, safety procedures, routine flight procedures and other appropriate information. Once they were issued the flight equipment, we took them up for a ride.

The one my team was assigned to take up was Slim. We took him out to the flight line and showed him all the pre-flight procedures. We pulled a fuel sample (which was saved to burn in our Coleman stove), checked over the mission equipment inside the aircraft and helped the pilots check over the outside of the bird.

As we walked around the helicopter checking this and that, Slim kept mentioned a couple times that he was nervous about flying. I tried to reassure him that there wasn't anything to be nervous about and that he'd enjoy the experience. As I was showing him how to properly put on his survival vest, he flat out told me, "Sergeant, I'm really afraid of flying." I was looking away when he said this, and as I turned to try to again reassure him, I saw The Scrounger standing behind him with a big smile on his face. The only thing I could stammer out at that point was, "You really shouldn't have said that." I don't remember what Scrounger said, but I think it was something like, "Oh, don't worry, you'll love what we have in store for you."

After we ran up the aircraft and went through the check list, the first thing we did is what's called a "High Performance Takeoff." To to this, the pilot pulls the pitch lever and the aircraft goes straight up. It's not an acrobatic maneuver, but you're nervous about flying, it might take you aback. After we gained some altitude, we did some tail spins. Again, this isn't much of an acrobatic (or aerobatic) thing, but you're not used to it, the maneuver can be a little nerve wracking. After the tail spins, we did flying around, turning here and there and going up and down. I could hear Slim moan every once in a while and ask over the intercom, "Are we done yet?"

I could tell this wasn't going well. At best Slim was getting so scared he'd never want to fly again. At worst, I figured he might hurl, which would cause others to do likewise and make a huge mess. Neither scenario was good.

After a few more minutes of scaring Slim to death, The Scrounger came over the intercom. He said something like, "I know you're nervous about flying, but you really shouldn't be. All of the maneuvers we've done so far have been strictly by the book. Now, I want you to unbuckle your harness and come up here to the front and let us walk you though some of the controls and shown you what we're doing."

"Ah, good," I thought, "The Scrounger is showing he has a heart and is going to help calm Slim down."

But, I was wrong.

No sooner than Slim had unbuckled and crawled up to the cockpit, he started screaming so loud I could hear him over the engine noise, "They're not holding on to the controls! They're not holding on to the controls" He scrambled back to his seat and frantically tried to rebuckle his harness.

Now, the pilots weren't doing anything terribly dangerous. The aircraft we were in had a computer-assisted attitude control. This wasn't an autopilot, but rather an aid to help keep the aircraft straight and level. If no one was holding the controls, the computer would keep the helicopter in level flight going in whatever direction it happened to be pointed.

At this point, Scrounger finally picked up that Slim was really quite terrified. When Slim calmed down a little, Scrounger came back over the intercom and explained what was going on. He explained that he was trying to show Slim that the aircraft was built to be very safe. He explained the computer control assist and how it worked. He then explained that all the maneuvers done during the flight were all easy "peacetime" ones. He explained the limits to turns, climbing and diving. He then went and called out the maneuvers before he did them so Slim could see there was nothing to be afraid of. "Here's X degrees to the left. Now were going X degrees to the right. Now were going up X degrees. Now we're going down X degrees.

The interesting thing when you're looking out the window and the aircraft does a turn at, it does sometimes appear that you're looking straight down. Next time you're taking a plane ride somewhere, look out the window as the plane banks during takeoff or approach and you'll see what I mean.

Slim finally calmed down after a short time of calling out maneuvers. As the flight wrapped up, we headed over to the hot refuel point. A hot refuel is when the aircraft is fueled while running. Part of the crew responsibility is to stand outside near where the fuel hose is with a fire extinguisher. Slim and I manned the extinguisher while the fueler topped off the bird.

When the fueling was finished, Slim wanted to walk back to the camp. He didn't realize we were over a mile away. When I told him he didn't seem to care, either. I equated this situation with the old saying which tells us if you fall off the horse, you need to get right back on so you don't lose your nerve. It turned out to be a great idea to make Slim get back in the bird and fly back to the camp.

The happy ending to this story was that he got over his fear of flying at least enough that he was able to do missions while he was assigned to our unit.

This is part 10 in a series. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19

Observations In Southeast Asia

Other than flying the missions I mentioned in Part 7 (link above), I really didn't get out much. We were in our camp in the middle of Saudi Arabia somewhere with nothing but desert all around us as far as they eye could see. It was a desolate place with not even as much vegetation as there was in the desert near Fort Bliss nor even in the Mojave Desert at the National Training Center near Barstow, California.

Still, there was a lot of life. Not much of is was very pleasant.

There were the dung beetles. Those guys were like ants in their work ethic. The would find a spherical piece of dung and push it across the desert to their hole. There was no stopping them (except, maybe, to squash them under foot).

The flies were relentless. Because of the dearth of moisture, they would fly around the nose, mouth and eyes seeking water and salt to consume. I joked that they were "Union" flies because they would only come out after the sun rose and they disappeared at sundown.

There were a number of different kinds of spiders, too. Although I don't remember having spider fights like depicted in the movie "Jarhead," I do remember once someone captured a spider and cut it in half. Before it died it turned and the "head" part attacked its own back end like it was another spider. It was aggressive to the end.

We heard stories about cobras and other kinds of snakes. I don't remember ever seeing one and was glad for it.

Now, my observations of the cultural aspects of the area aren't meant to be judgmental. They are merely my thoughts on the differences there compared to the U.S.

One of the few times I was able to leave the camp I was asked to accompany the supply sergeant to a nearby town to get some batteries. We drove to the town in one of our modified Chevy Blazers (called a CUCV). Much of the way was through the desert on a dirt road, much like the tank trails in the northern part of Fort Bliss. The rest was along a 2-lane highway. I was very surprised at poor condition of many of the more rural roads in Saudi Arabia. I remember thinking that a country with that much money coming in could certainly afford to have paved shoulders and filled-in potholes.

It was interesting to watch the truck drivers as sunset approached. Every truck pulled off the road and took a tea break before evening pray time. They would spread out blankets, join up in groups, stoke up fires for their tea pots and talk.

For us who didn't observe this Muslim custom, that was really the best time to drive around because no one was on the road.

The town we went to was rather plain. We were told that because most Saudis spend most of their time indoors, they don't spend much effort making the outsides of their homes beautiful, favoring spending most of their efforts on the insides. That made sense to me considering the climate.

The store we went to was one of those the front of the store was rather small, dominated by the counter where you told the shopkeeper what you wanted and he went into the back room to get it. No self-service in this place. It was a nice setup, though, as it encouraged conversation and interaction between those running the store and their customers. Of course, that would be more enjoyable without the language barrier.

I remember going outside to have a smoke and watching the traffic go by. At one point, a very small Toyota pickup truck drove by. That wasn't unusual in itself, though. Was was very different than what you might see in America was the one woman, dressed up in her burka, sitting in the bed of the truck while four men were crammed into the small cab. While that made sense to me as a student of the culture of the land, it still struck me as funny because there's no way those four guys could have been comfortable stuffed into the cab they way they were. I don't think it was really safe, either. It's hard enough trying to drive our Ford Ranger with me, my wife and my 14-year-old son in the cab. That Toyota was much smaller and there were four adult men in there. I wonder how the guy steered.

All of us got to take four days off at a camp set up somewhere near the coast in the eastern part of the country. It was nice to be able to relax and take it easy. There was a PX, vendors hawking everything from Saudi clothes to bootleg cassettes, and food that didn't come out of a pouch or a can. Oh, and hot showers. That was probably the best part of the experience.

As 1990 turned into 1991 things started to come to a head. Saddam refused to pull his army out of Kuwait and Desert Storm was about to kick off.

This is part 9 in a series. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19

Desert Storm - Holidays

By the time 1990 rolled around, I was certainly no stranger to being away from relatives on holidays. Note, I didn't write "loved ones" or "family." Those with whom I served were often like brothers or sisters to me; and, in many cases they were (and remain) closer than family to me. Those who have served understand what I'm talking about.

Still, there is a sense of loneliness when one is separated from familiar traditions, away from those with whom one grew up. This was especially so for me as I spent those holidays in Saudi Arabia.

I don't remember if it was Thanksgiving or Christmas, but I remember eating one holiday meal in the middle of a raging sand storm. We had goggles over our eyes and "dew rags" covering our noses and mouths as we made our way to where the mess folks were serving the turkey, ham and trimmings. I remember sitting in the large tent feeling rather glum as I ate my sandy food. It probably wasn't as bad as I remember, it being somewhat of a fleeting memory now.

One thing I do remember with great fondness is the camaraderie the twenty of us shared during our time leading up to the ground war. There were no secrets among us, as is often the case when people live together in close quarters spending just about every waking (and sleeping) moment together. We told stories about our misspent youths (some of those guys were wild men in their younger days), secrets we never told anyone else, our feelings (which is something men rarely talk about) and other things.

Our senior warrant officer pilot, who was dubbed "The Old Dog" by one of the crew chiefs, told us about some of his experiences as a CH-47 Chinook crew chief in Vietnam. They were personal, heart-felt stories about his own fears and triumphs during that time. He would often end the stories with something like, "I don't know why I'm telling you guys this, I've never told anyone about that." I think it was very good for him to get it out after so long.

I won't share any of his stories, as they are his, except for one. I remember one morning we were all discussing the great support we were getting from home. I've mentioned this a couple times in previous installments of this series. The Old Dog stopped us and related his story of returning home from Vietnam after his first tour. He told us how he landed at an Air Force base near Seattle, happy to be home and ready to be with family and friends. As he was going through the return processing, he was advised that he should change into civilian clothes before leaving the base to avoid confrontations with protesters.

He thought at the time it was their right to protest a war they found unjust, and he felt he was fighting for their right to do so. However, it was the more personal expressions of protest, the "Baby Killer" and "Murderer" signs that really hurt him. As I recall, he said he felt betrayed as the bus he was on left the base and people hurled insults, eggs and even a few rocks at the bus full of servicemen. I can't say I blame him for feeling that way.

He told us something like, "Yeah, everything is fine now. But, wait until the body bags start going home and people start getting hurt. All this support could dry up very quickly." I could sense the hurt in his voice as he related this to us. It was quite sobering. (You'll be glad to know there is a happy ending to this particular thread which I will relate in a later installment.)

To wrap things up, please remember our service men and women always - but especially during the holidays. My old unit, the 3rd ACR is in Iraq right now helping the people there establish their post-Saddam way of life. Check them out on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/3dACR. They're over there working hard doing things most of us wouldn't dream of doing.

This is part 8 in a series. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19

Blue Man Group

Jen and I recently visited Las Vegas for the PubCon Web Marketing Conference. The week before, the organizer of the conference sent out a tweet telling he had some tickets to Blue Man Group for the first people to respond. I responded quickly enough and got tickets to see Blue Man Group at the Venetian Hotel.

I thought it was way cool we won the tickets, and I was happy to be able to go to the show. When we showed up at the Will Call window to collect our tickets, I checked them out. Near the top was printed "PONCHO." "What the heck does 'poncho' mean?" I asked. "Oh, you're right up front." Yes, we were in the third row and right in the middle - great seats.

The show was energetic, engaging, funny and fun. There was lots of bass and percussion music going on, but it wasn't like techno dance music. Of course, the PVC pipe instruments were played quite a bit. It wasn't all music, though; there were some quite skits where the group pulled someone out of the audience to participate.

At one point towards the end of the show, the three blue men led the entire audience in unrolling and pushing about a ton of paper from the back of the theater to the front. That was fun and quite different.

If you have a chance, check out a Blue Man Group show. They have regular shows in New York, Boston, Chicago, Las Vegas, Orlando and they tour around the country. Check out the web site (linked above) for a schedule. It's a fun, kid-friendly show (at the Venetian venue, they even brought out booster seats for kids).

Desert Storm - THAT Day

During our time in Saudi Arabia we would, from time to time, be tasked to fly back and forth along the Saudi/Kuwait border. Although these missions became somewhat routine, they were just a little nerve wracking.

The reason they were nerve wracking was because we were flying along the border, between two opposing armies lined up, arrayed in preparation for battle. We flew over the Saudi side of the border, closer to our guys than theirs. Even so, when the pre-mission briefings included the phrase "keep an eye out the window and yell out if you see a missile headed our way" it made me just a little nervous.

This particular day started off routinely enough. My fellow crew member and I went out with the crew chief and did our part of the pre-flight maintenance check. We pulled a fuel sample, checked the mission equipment, made sure everything that was supposed to be there was there and stuff that wasn't supposed to be there wasn't.

On this particular day, the crew chief didn't fly the mission with us, so I took the role of standing outside while the pilots started the engines. This was always interesting to me. One of the crew members would stand outside with a little fire extinguisher and watch to make sure nothing was blocking the engine intakes while the engines started and ran up. What was with that little fire extinguisher? That was the question. I guess if something really went bad we could put out the fire on one person. I often thought one of those gigantic extinguishers with wheels would be more appropriate to have handy if there ever was a real fire. Thankfully that never happened.

We started up, took off and flew to the Regimental Headquarters to get the mission briefing. Our mission was to fly back and forth along the border for four hours. We went out to the helipad, fired up the bird and took off to do the mission.

Two things went wrong right away. First, I forgot the chock blocks on the helipad. I was supposed to grab them and put them on the floor behind my seat when I got in when the engines were started up and we were ready to go. It wasn't a terrible mistake since we would return there when our mission was complete, but it wasn't good. I didn't pay attention to detail - and it was rather embarrassing to have the folks tasking us to do the mission call to tell me I forgot them. Thankfully I had a radio in the back so the pilots didn't hear about it when they called.

Second the local Stinger team decided to use us to test their equipment. A Stinger was a small, vehicle mounted or shoulder fired antiaircraft missile. There were a few Stinger teams assigned to the regiment to protect against any enemy aircraft which might happen by.

I'm sure they didn't think they were doing anything wrong when they turned on their tracking devices and lit up the cockpit warning panel. The Scounger was the Pilot on Command on that mission. He started yelling and cussing over the intercom and hollered at me to call back to the headquarters and tell the Stinger guys to cut it out. He rarely raised his voice under normal circumstances, so I could tell he was very angry about it.

Off we went to the border and started flying back and forth. Normally, on this type of mission, we would fly along a preplanned path in more or less a straight line, turn around and follow basically the same path back and turn around again. The pilots called this flying "idiot circles."

During this particular mission, about an hour into it and just a little bit before we came to the turn around point, the aircraft dumped over to the left and we started spiraling downward very rapidly. Now, sometimes the pilots got a little bored doing "idiot circles" and would do some fun maneuvers while turning around. Part of me thought that was why we were dropping and spinning, but part of me thought something else was up.

My fellow crew member, Tom, liked the more, shall we say, aerobatic maneuvers. While we were spinning and diving, I could hear him yelling at the top of his voice "YEAH! GET SOME!" He was yelling so loud I could hear him over all the noise in the aircraft - and that was pretty loud.

We leveled off and flew straight for just a few seconds and then we dumped over to the right and started diving and spinning again. This time the thoughts that something wasn't quite right started winning out over the thoughts that the pilots were merely bored. Those thoughts were confirmed when the copilot, "Digger," came over the intercom in a very calm and level voice: "Hey guys. In case you're wondering why we're doing this. We got a missile warning and we're trying to shake it."

The first thing through my mind after he said that was, "Hey, don't stop on my account!"

Looking back on it, what really gets me is Digger's calm and cool tone. This was, obviously, a very stressful situation and he sounded as cool and collected as if we were sitting around and talking about the weather.

The Scrounger, however, didn't take it so calmly. Once we got close to the ground, we started heading back to the Regimental Headquarters. He came over the intercom cussing and swearing again telling us we were headed home for the day. I can't say I blame him too much. By this time I pretty much had it that day myself.

When we got the the headquarters we went in to talk to the people they wondered and why we came home early. After we explained to them what happened they seemed to understand and let us be done for the day. We headed back to the airfield without further incident.

It was THAT kind of day.

This is part 7 in a series. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19

Why It's Movember To Me

This past weekend a coworker passed away. For a year I have been following her valiant struggle against cancer through the group her close friends set up on Facebook. They chronicled her story. They started with some of her treatments, her participation in the Pink Heals Tour, through the ups and downs she went through, all the way through the funeral today. Another youthful life snatched away by the evil that is cancer.
Right now I have two aunts fighting breast and lung cancer, a cousin fighting lung cancer, my dad fought prostate cancer, numerous friends are fighting or have fought off cancers of various kinds. I've lost a grandmother, an uncle and a more than a few friends to this scourge.


Enough!
That's why I'm raising funds during the month now known as Movember, to help the Movember Foundation fund organizations such as the Prostate Cancer Foundation and Lance ArmstrongsLIVESTRONG so they can continue their work in helping educate and research in the fight against cancer.


Please go to my Movember Mo Space page and donate a buck or two or five or a hundred. It goes to a good cause in helping fight against cancer.


If you're in Michigan, please also consider dropping by and donating a buck or two to my friend Scott's Southwest Michigan Movember team. This is his first year joining in and I'd like to see his team do well, too.
Check back throughout Movember and I'll post pics of my mustachioed self.


This post is cross-posted on my other blog The Crossing of Marketing and IT.

Bavarian Dream Vacation - Day 3, Augsburg

This is part 3 of a series. Check out Part 1 and Part 2

For reference, here's the map:


View Bavaria Things To See in a larger map

Day 3 - Augsburg
Most people I know who travel to Germany hit the larger cities and the popular tourist spots. One place which is often overlooked is the beautiful, ancient city of Augsburg. Founded by Caesar Augustus over 2000 years ago, Augsburg has been an important central stop on major trade routes since that time. There are many interesting and historic sites to see there. Augsburg is a convenient day trip from Munich, being only about an hour one-way by train from the Munich Main Tran Station. Ask about special one-day round trip fares (Sonderrueckfahrkarte) when you purchase your tickets.

I have to add a little disclaimer here - one of the reasons I love Augsburg so much is because I lived there for three years. I know it rather well and it holds a special place in me. With that, here are my must-see suggestions for Augsburg:

• Transportation Around Augsburg - From the Augsburg Hauptbahnhof, take the 3 or 4 streetcar to Konigsplatz, then change to the 2 line which will take you to the first suggested stop ...
• Mozarthaus Augsburg - This was not the home of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, but rather was the home of his father, Leopold Mozart. The elder Mozart was born in Augsburg. It's an interesting historical site. Stop at the Mozarthaus stop on the 2 streetcar line.
• The Cathedral - The Dom Unserer Lieben Frau  in Augsburg is a site to behold. From the outside you can see the different architectural styles which were common as each part was built over the centuries. Inside, under the main altar, you can climb down the stairs and see the original catacombs where early Christians met. Another interesting feature is just to the south of the site. An ancient Roman bath was discovered while workers were digging trenches to lay steam pipes under that part of the city. There are many examples of Augustine-era statues and artwork displayed in a shelter near the bath.
• The Perlach Tower - The Perlachturm sits across from the Rathausplatz and next to the City Hall (Rathaus). It's a bit of a climb, but the tower offers one of the best vistas of Augsburg and the surrounding area. 
• Augsburg City Hall - The Augsburger Rathaus is right next to the Perlachturm. While most of the building houses the official city offices, the highlight of the building is the Goldenen Hall on the top floor. The Hall was painstakingly restored after World War II, even down to repainting the trim in 14k gold leaf paint. The hall is open to tourists during normal business hours unless there is an official function taking place. 
• St. Ann Church - The St. Anna Kirche has an interesting place in history. It was one of the places Martin Luther hid while he translated the Bible from Latin to German. You can visit the attic room which served as his home and work room. The church itself is set up to be half Lutheran and half Catholic. On one end of the building is the Lutheran alter where those services are held. On the other end is the Catholic altar where mass is done. The Sunday services alternate and the backs of the benches flip over to allow one to comfortably sit and face the desired altar. It's really quite interesting.
• Fuggerei - The Fuggers were an important merchant family based in Augsburg. As one of their charitable efforts, Jakob Fugger built a home where the poor could live for a nominal fee so long as they agreed to pray for the souls of the Fugger family each day. The community still exists, and people still live there for an annual fee of 0.88 Euros. The Fuggers are an interesting historical family and the Fuggerei is an interesting place to visit.
• The Roman Museum - As I mentioned above, Augsburg was founded by Caesar Augustus. Because of that, building projects in and around the city quite often also end up being archeological sites. The Römisches Museum Augsburg is where many of the uncovered historical articles are on display. It is filled with everything from statues of Roman gods to sewing needles. This is a "can't miss" visit for the history buff.
• Basilica of St. Ulrich and Afra - Although, perhaps, not as historical as the Cathedral, the Basilika St. Ulrich und Afra is, nonetheless, a great place to visit. An ornate and beautiful building, St. Ulrich is entombed in the basement. 

Unfortunately, it appears that my favorite places to eat, however I suggest the Sieben Schwaben Stuben as a place to catch lunch. It's between St. Anne's and the Rathausplatz.

That wraps up my 3-Day Bavarian dream trip. I hope you found it helpful.

Please feel free to drop your Augsburg tour tips in the comments.

Bavarian Dream Vacation - Day 2, Schwangau

This is part 2 of a series. Check out Part 1 and Part 3.

For reference, here's the map:


View Bavaria Things To See in a larger map

Day 2: The Beautiful Castles in Schwangau.
Georgette mentioned her son already had in mind to visit the Neuschwanstein Castle in Schwangau near Füssen in far Southern Bavaria. This is the beautiful castle Walt Disney used as the model for Cinderella's Castle at his theme parks. I thought that an excellent idea; and, while they are there I also suggested they visit the Hohenschwangau Castle, which is right across the valley from its more famous companion.

The history of these castles is quite interesting. King Ludwig II of Bavaria (who is known as "Mad King Ludwig") just about bankrupted the kingdom building beautiful castles - none of which he actually lived in.

Neuschwanstein Castle - Perhaps the most famous is the Schloss Neuschwanstein. This beautiful, white, towered creation was built right across the valley from Ludwig's home. It took many years to build and is a magnificent structure, both inside and out. It is well worth the time to take the guided tour so you can learn more of the history and see some behind the scenes things. One of these is the grand ballroom floor, a large section of which could be lowered into the kitchen below. A large table and place settings could be set up on the floor and raised back up for the banquet portion of a party. When the food was done, it could be lowered, cleared and raised again to make a large dance floor.

Hohenschwangau Castle - Opposite the Neuschwanstein is the boyhood home of King Ludwig, the Hohenschwangau. Don't let the somewhat plain exterior fool you, the inside is a sight to behold. Situated on Swan Lake (the same Lake of ballet fame), this site if often overshadowed and overlooked by a great many tourists. The rooms inside are spectacular. The furnishings and artwork are spectacular. One room features a full mural on one wall depicting the life of Charlemagne, who the Bavarians believe was born in Munich.

Pilgrimage Church of Wies - Georgette's son mentioned visiting the Pilgrimage Church of Wies in Steingaden, which is just north of Schwangau. I never visited that place, but from the history I read online it seems like a very interesting place. Steingaden can be easily reached by bus from the train station in Füssen.

Schwangau is easy to get to via train from Munich. Take the train to Füssen and then a bus to Hohenschwangau. Mike's Bike Tours of Munich also offer a charter bus tour, which might be more convenient.

This trip will take up the whole day, so I wouldn't recommend doing much more than a having a relaxing dinner upon return to Munich.

Thus ends day 2. Next up is day 3 in Augsburg.

Please feel free to leave your Schwangau tour tips in the comments.

Bavarian Dream Vacation - Day 1, Munich

My friend, Georgette, mentioned to me she was going to spend a few days in Southern Germany with her son during their trip to Europe next year. She asked me what I what I would recommend they see in Munich if I were going (and how I wish I was). I started to put together a Google Map for them with recommendations, and thought I'd just go ahead and share my suggestions with all of you, too.

They only have three days to spend in Germany since they are on a schedule. So, here's how I would break it down. For reference, here's the map:


View Bavaria Things To See in a larger map

Day 1: Munich
Georgette told me once her and her son took a guided Segway tour of Austin, Texas and thoroughly enjoyed it. They plan to do the same in Munich. This is a great idea. There are two I found:

• Mike's Bike Tours of Munich offers Segway and other tours in Bavaria. They are conveniently located near the Hofbrauhaus (a popular tourist attraction) and are highly rated by previous customers.
• City Segway Tours is located close to the Main Train Station (Hauptbahnhof), also a convenient location.

Here are my München must-see suggestions for:

• Frauenkirche - The twin-domed Cathedral of Our Lady is a prominent Munich landmark. Just a short distance from the Marienplatz, it's easy to see and find from just about anywhere in the central part of the city. It's a beautiful, old church and well worth taking an hour or so to walk through. 
• Asamkirche Dominikanerinnen - Georgette mentioned wanted to visit a couple of churches. One I think they should see is the Asamkirche, which is just south of the Marienplatz on Sendlinger Strasse. This old, dark church is a great representation of Gothic-style churches. It's very interesting and takes just a few minutes to walk through.
• Marienplatz and The Rathaus Glockenspiel - The Marienplatz is the heart of touristy Munich. There are shops and restaurants all around the perimeter ranging from old-style Gasthauses to American fast food. The highlight of the area is the Glockenspiel atop the city hall. Every day at 11 AM (also at Noon and 5 PM in the summer) the clock strikes and a play begins depicting the 1568 Wedding of Duke Wilhelm V of Bavaria and Renata of Lorraine as well as the "Cooper Dance" which marked the end of a plague of that era. The show lasts around 15 minutes. Take the U3 or U6 and get off at the Marienplatz station.
• For The History Buff - There is a display atop on of the buildings on the south-east part of the Marienplatz with photos of what the area looked like before World War II and at the end of that war. You can compare it with how it looks now and see that great pains were taken to restore the buildings just as they were. I can't remember exactly where it is, but I'll bet the Segway tour guides or the locals know where it is.
• Beyrischer Donisl - After seeing the Glockenspiel show at 11 AM, a great place to stop for lunch is the Bayrischer Donisl. This was always my favorite place to lunch in Munich. Check out the Bavarian specialties and (of course) the excellent beer. I would recommend a sausage sampler platter including some Bavarian Weisswurst (White Sausage) - it can't be beat. It's located on the Marienplatz to the left as you're looking at the Glockenspiel.
• BMW Museum - I'm a car buff, so I would be remiss if I didn't mention the BMW Museum located near the Olympic Park in the northern part of the city. The museum covers the history of the car maker from the beginning to modern times. Take the U3 to the Olympiazentrum station.
• Dachau Concentration Camp Memorial Site - While this may not be a "happy tourist" place to go, while you're in the area it's certainly something to see. "Never Again" is the phrase you hear echoed over and over as you go through the museum and walk the grounds. It's certainly a heavy place, but important. Take the S2 from Munich to the Dachau station.
• Beer Halls - There are a number of beer halls in Munich. The most famous (and arguably more for tourists) is the Hofbräuhaus. The food is great and the music is festive. And, of course, the beer is pretty good, too. I spent many a good time hanging around with friends and meeting people from all over the world there. Another nice place to visit, and less "touristy" is the Löwenbräukeller. Either spot would be great for dinner and a good time to wind up a great day.

Also mention: The Beer And Oktoberfest Museum. I've never been there and I don't even know if it existed when I last visited Munich, but it look like it might be interesting.

Thus ends day 1. Next up is day 2 in Schwangau.

Please feel free to leave your Munich tour tips in the comments.

Book Review: "Your Money God's Way" by Amie Streater

I'm a fan of Dave Ramsey and have been coordinating his Financial Peace University classes at our church for 2 years now. Getting my financial life back in order has been a great experience. I wanted to check out this book by Amie Streater to, perhaps, get another perspective into handling money more wisely.

Instead of a "how to" book, Your Money God's Way - Overcoming the 7 Money Myths That Keep Christians Broke delves more into the reasons of why we Christians sometimes make bad decisions about money and counters those mistakes with Biblical principles and ideals. The author identifies seven problem areas some have and shows better ways based on her personal experience as well as the experiences of some she counsels in her work as Associate Pastor of Financial Stewardship at New Life Church in Colorado Springs, Colorado.

While I highly recommend consulting Dave Ramsey's organization for learning the nuts and bolts of money management, Amie Streater gets down to the nitty gritty of helping us understand why it's important to manage our money wisely, where some of our bad money management theology comes from and how to get our minds thinking in the right direction. It helps Christians not to "check their brains at the door" when it comes to sound, Biblical money management.

Well written and well sourced, I recommend this book highly if you're looking for more knowledge about how to better handle your money.

Your Money God's Way by Amie Streater (Amazon Affiliate Link)

Disclaimer: I am a member of Thomas Nelson's Book Review Blogger program. Although Thomas Nelson Publishing provided the book at no cost to me, this review is my honest opinion of the work.

Desert Storm - Still Waiting

Our daily routine during Desert Shield (which was the build-up phase of the war before Desert Storm officially commenced on January 16, 2001) was fairly sedate. The "OPTEMPO" (Operations Tempo) was rather relaxed. We did have time for side projects as I described in my last installment, but there were "Army" things to do, too.

Guard duty first comes to mind. Doing guard duty was so ingrained in Army life that one's first experience with it comes during basic training. Our time in the desert was certainly no exception to this.

Our platoon was assigned to help the Motor Pool folks guard the "gate" at the southeast portion of the perimeter. There were two troopers on guard at that location at all times, a non-commissioned officer (NCO) and a lower-enlisted person. We had enough people around that we were hit with a two-hour shift about once every 4-5 days. One person was stationed near the gate who was responsible to stop vehicles and check for proper response to the challenge of the day. The other person sat in a small bunker set up about 250 feet away with the M-60 machine gun covering the person on the gate. Each person would put in an hour at each point, sharing the responsibility. A camouflage net was set up near the gate so the person there had at least a little shade. The bunker, as I recall, was rather comfortable to sit in.

On one of my first shifts at the gate, someone from the regiment's support squadron stopped by to drop off food and pick up trash. Of course, he didn't know the proper response to the password. I tried to call the mess sergeant to get him to come and verify the person's identity, but no one would answer. The sergeant driving the truck was rather angry that I wouldn't let him through, but I didn't know who he was - and "orders is orders." The way I looked at it, he should have checked for the proper response before he left.

I remember one day we got quite a surprise. We were hanging around our area, probably playing cards or something, when we heard shots fired from the M-60 in the direction of the gate. We all grabbed our rifles and ran towards the gate. When we go there we found one of the sergeants from the motor pool yelling at the young man behind the M-60. There were two things wrong with this situation:

1. There was no one anywhere near the gate other than the two guys on guard.
2. The sergeant doing the yelling was one of the most easy-going guys on the planet. None of us had ever heard him raise his voice, ever.

This was quite an unusual event. Later we found out that the guy behind the '60 was fooling around and wondered what would happen "... if I turned off the safety and pulled the trigger." Well, he found out. He shot four or five rounds towards the sergeant, all of which missed (thankfully) and hit the ground about 5 feet in front of him. I can't say I blame him for being upset.

Another of our "hobbies" was burying commo wire. Commo wire was what we used to connect our field phones to the squadron's switchboard in the motor pool tent. It was a double-strand cable with plastic insulation, rather similar to 20-gauge speaker wire.Using the field phone it was possible to call any unit within the perimeter. Of course, wire simply laid on the ground would be tripped over and damaged quite easily. It was also standard procedure to hide common wire, and burying it was the easiest way to protect and hide the wire.

Other than the area where engineers had moved the sand aside to expose the bedrock for the flight line, the entire camp was like a huge sandbox with the sand being several inches to several feet deep. The problem with burying something in the sand is that it tends to work its way up and out eventually. This is especially true when the wind blows incessantly and people are walking on top of what you buried. This meant we had to bury the entire length of wire from our camp are to the switchboard every two or three days. That was a hot, sweaty job.

We also had to build fighting positions for the members of our platoons. For the first go 'round, we dug a small trench, lined it with sand bags and put a roof over it. This was similar to a "traditional" type fighting position, except that it held about 10 people.

Later, one of the pilots (our scrounger) thought it would be a great idea to build a bunker. His plan was that we would have some engineers dig a large hole with a backhoe, build a small building inside the hole, and then have the engineers backfill the hole with a bulldozer.

After the engineers dug our hole, we spent a couple weeks building the building. We had some pretty smart folks who were very handy with tools. Because of my lack of tool prowess, I was merely unskilled labor. We put together quite a nice little building, though. It was quite a sturdy structure - until the bulldozer pushed the sand back into the hole. Although the guys who designed the structure were pretty smart about how to put up a sturdy structure, they weren't engineers and forgot to take into account the weight of the sand pushing against the outside walls. Once the bulldozer shoved the sand back into the hole, the building twisted and collapsed. Although it was a bit of a waste, we did learn something from it. And, it was a great way to pass the time doing something constructive.

We also did some running to stay in shape. There were some roads worn cut through the squadron area which were suitable for running. We ran around the roads, sometimes with our backpacks on. This was best done early in the morning or late in the evening when it was cooler.

We had some flight missions during this time. More on that next time.

This is part 6 in a series. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19

Desert Storm - The Wait Is on

We found ourselves in the middle of the desert in the Middle of Saudi Arabia. The area was barren and featureless; so much so that maps of the area were nothing more than brown pieces of paper with grid lines and the occasional elevation marking. There was nothing as far as the eye could see, other than the camel herds led around by Bedouins which passed by from time to time.

It was here that Longknife Squadron made it's home for the next three months. We carved out a spot in the desert where engineers had fashioned a flight line by pushing aside the sand and exposing the bedrock below. The entire squadron was arranged in an oblong circle, longer on the east and west sides and shorter at the north and south. The flight line ran along the western side while our platoon's camp was situated on the southwest side near one of the entrance points. The entire circle was surrounded by triple strands of razor wire (which we called "concertina wire").

When we first arrived, of course, there was nothing but vehicles and aircraft. We soon started putting together a reasonably comfortable camp for ourselves. One of the pilots was an expert scrounger. He managed to get us sheets of plywood to make nice floors for our tents as well as some hooches for some of the guys and a large storage closet for the goodies we received. He also managed to "procure" quite a bit of other lumber for building projects (2x4s and 4x4s).

As time went on we made improvements to the area. We built a nice place at one end of the our site we called our "breakfast nook." This was a patio-like area with a large crate for table where we had our morning  coffee and breakfast time. The benches around the crate were fashioned somewhat like a picket fence as the backs of the seating bench with wooden seats. The large area really resembled a scale model of an Old West Town, so we christened it "Quickfix, Arizona."

For the first part of our stay there, we were only allowed to work in the mornings until around 11 AM or Noon. Work stopped then because it was just too hot. At 4 PM work could commence again.

Not that there was too much work to do. I've heard it said that war is nothing more than hour upon hour of sheer boredom punctuated by brief periods of sheer terror. In this case, the boredom lasted for months. Thankfully we had our projects to keep us busy. We also had daily games of cards (Spades and Cribbage were the most popular), Risk (we played A LOT of Risk), personal reading and answering the many letters we got from home addressed to "Any Soldier." We got so many letters from complete strangers we couldn't possibly have answered them all. After a while we divided up those letters and only answered those which came from our home states. If you sent a letter and didn't get a "Thank you," please consider this your thanks - your support was greatly appreciated.

Our main project was making sure we had some creature comforts. One of these was a shower. It was interesting that a company-sized unit with only twelve members was afforded a separate shower in their area, while our platoon with twenty members was forced to share a similar shower facility with the rest of our troop, which had over over 100 members. Thanks to some creative thinking, we built our own two-stall shower. It consisted of wooden pallets for the floors and ceiling, a 2x4 framework and plywood for the walls. At first we used camping shower bags for a water source. Later, someone took the rubber hoses off the shower bags and attached them to metal drums mounted to the roof of the shower. A frame was built over which plastic map overlay material was wrapped making for a very nice solar heater.

Next to the shower was our laundry area. We had some large containers, which I believe were for carrying some of the aircrafts' equipment during shipping, which we used for washing and rinsing our clothes. Someone in the group fashioned "T" poles from 4x4s and strung up a clothesline. Clothes dried very quickly in the hot Saudi sun.

For whatever reason, the squadron leadership didn't think it appropriate that we should have our own shower and demanded we give it to another unit. After threatening to burn it down (after all, we procured the materials and built the thing) they relented, only to forbid the water truck from filling it a few days later. Some quick thinking (and some bribes from our "Goody Locker") soon solved that problem.

The Goody Locker was where we stored the largess of the bounty from the support we received from folks back home. We had more candy, cookies (and other assorted baked goods), gum, toilet paper, baby wipes, cigarettes (but not smokeless tobacco), powdered drink mixes, tea bags and other items than we could possibly use. We shared quite a bit of our bounty and used a lot for trading.

For example, I once wrote home that I was tired of the toilet paper the Army gave us because it was similar in texture to 20-grit sandpaper. A few weeks later I got a case (that's 24 rolls) of an extra soft name-brand toilet paper in the mail. Needless to say, that was quite a popular item. Another time I mentioned we had a TV and VCR along with a generator to run them, but no movies. A few weeks later I got a box from home containing a dozen or so VCR movies my sister and her class at school scrounged from home or from video rental places. All of us got stuff like this - and I am quite grateful to this day for that support. It really did make life a lot more bearable.

That's not to say the Army didn't take care of us. We were supplied large quantities of bottled water, a daily ration of ice, food, clothes and shelter. We would have survived quite nicely without the help from home, but it helped made things a whole lot better.

There are a lot of "Army" things to do, too. I'll cover those in the next installment so you don't get the idea we lazed around the whole time we were waiting for the shooting war to start.

This is part 5 in a series. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19

Desert Storm - It's HOT In Saudi Arabia

It was an October morning when we landed in Saudi Arabia. The air was already cooling in the West Texas Desert we left, but not on the Arabian Peninsula. It had to be in the 90s already when we arrived mid-morning on that day.

When the flight attendants opened the door, all the moisture in the aircraft was sucked out and you could feel the dryness on your skin. If you've ever flown to El Paso or Las Vegas, you know the feeling. It was more intense over there, though. It made me think of the science fiction book Dune. I was half expecting to be issued a "still suit" to recover water from my body.

I had a reason to be wary of working in such an environment.

Extreme heat and I have been enemies for a long time. Growing up in Michigan, I really didn't spend too much time in temperatures above 95 or so degrees. My time in the Army, though, was another story.

During my initial training I attended a school near San Angelo, Texas. Towards the end of our time there, we had a field training exercise which they called "Armydillo." It was a weekend trip to the desert to participate in "Army" activities such as digging foxholes and forced marches. I was careful to make sure I drank enough water to stay hydrated and taking breaks in the shade when told to. My tent mate, on the other hand, was a bit of a goof and brought two canteens full of Sloe Gin with him. I'm sure he had more fun than I did.

It was the hottest day in history for that September day in that part of Texas. I think the heat index (temperature eith humidity taken into account) was 110 degrees. We were all hot an miserable, and I more so than the others. I wasn't totally aware of it at the time, but I have a propensity to suffer easily from heat exhaustion (AKA heat prostration). I get to a point where my brain starts to shut down and I act as if drunk. Later, my cohorts in Saudi Arabia got to know my peculiar "thousand yard stare" and knew when I needed assistance.  On this particular day, though, none of us were quite prepared for how I was to spend the latter parts of that Saturday outside San Angelo.

I don't remember too much of what happened in the latter part that day. A lot of what I think I remember may have been related to me after the fact. Things started going downhill for me during the forced march. I remember walking in a staggered formation along with my fellow soldiers and being cold. I think I may have mentioned to someone that I was cold and was glad they made us pack our jackets even though it seemed a silly idea to haul around a jacket in September in Texas. Someone grabbed a medic, who forced me to sit on the side of the road while he poured water over my head. I remember the cool water hitting my body was very painful.

Because the only ambulance available was already transporting someone who fell and broke their leg to the hospital, I had to walk back to where we made our camp. I don't remember much about the walk, other than I remember it was more of a drunken stagger (picture a scene from a movie or TV show where someone is trudging through the desert). When we got back to the camp, the medic had my classmates help me to the just-returned ambulance so I could be further evaluated. I don't remember doing so, but my classmates later told me I had some very choice words for our instructor and told the chaplain to "F*** off" when he asked how I was doing. That was totally out of character for me, so my friends knew I wasn't doing very well. I'm also told that while I was laying in the back of the ambulance, one of my classmates tried to loosen up my belt and shirt and I took a swing at him. Again, this is totally against my nature.

The rest of the afternoon and evening is a blur. The next thing I definitely remember was waking up in the hospital with IVs running into each arm. The doctor told me that I came as close to having heat stroke as one could without actually having it. It mattered little to me at the time as I felt like I'd been hit by a truck.

Fast forward to Saudi Arabia. I'd had heat exhaustion many times up to this point, so I warned my compatriots to watch out for me. I was fortunate that my platoon mates looked out for me quite well. There were 3 or 4 of them who were trained as combat medics to give IVs. When I got to a certain point, they'd know to hit me up for practice. Here's a snap of one such instance (thanks for Spiffyd for the picture):

Yup, that's me on the cot. This was taken sometime during the months we were in Central Saudi Arabia waiting for either Saddam to capitulate or the shooting war to start.

I like to joke around that I had so many IVs during our months over there that I looked like a junkie with track marks when we returned to The States. It wasn't too far from the truth, though.

This is part 4 in a series. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19

Useless "Emergency" TV Trivia

Jen and I have been watching old reruns of "Emergency" streamed off Netflix. Aside from the amusement of making fun of the "stylish" clothes and noting the differences in prehospital care today versus then we've been having fun spotting celebrities who appeared on the show before (or after) they were famous. Here's just a sample:

• Melissa Gilbert
• John Travolta
• Vic Tayback
• Wayne Knight (Newman! He blew up his house smoking a cigar when the gas oven was leaking.)
• Jamie Farr (We also spotted him as the deli delivery guy on "The Dick VanDyke Show")
  Jamie was not in the episode in which his name appeared in the credits, he actually appeared two episodes later.
• Scottie MacGregor (Mrs. Oleson on "Little House on the Prairie")
• Deidre Hall (Jen recognized her from "Days of our Lives")
• Jackie Coogan (almost didn't recognize him with hair and regular clothes)
• Stanley Kamel (Dr. Kroger from "Monk." Jen spotted him right away. )
• Marion Ross (Mrs. "C" - she was a secretary helping her boss who was having a heart attack).
• JoAnn Worley (A primal scream adherent, just about the time it "wasn't nice to fool Mother Nature."
• Don Most (Another "Happy Days" star)
• Nick Nolte
• Dick Butkus (though I thought he was Alex Karras)
• Pat Buttrum (As a hermit living in a cave. He must have run out of junk to sell to Mr. Douglas.)
• Robert Urich (Hard to recognize him - he was kind of burned up.)
• Alex Karras (He showed up in Season 3, Episode 1 in an uncredited appearance.)
• John Ashton (Later went on to play Taggart in the "Beverly Hills Cop" franchise.)
• Anne Morgan Guilbert (Milly in "The Dick Van Dyke" show and Evelyn in "Seinfeld")
• Mark Spitz (Great swimmer, not so great actor. There's a Suzy Spitz in the same episode, too)
• Kareen Abdul-Jabaar (I guess this was the sports season of Emergency)
• Erik Estrada (His face was bandaged up, but you can't miss the hair and the teeth)
• Bernard Fox (Dr. Bombay on "Bewitched" and Colonel Crittendon on "Hogan's Heroes")
• James Gregory (Detective Luger in "Barney Miller." Typecast as a grizzled detective)
• Mark Harmon (This was way before NCIS. It looks like they were setting up for a spinoff about the Los Angeles County Animal Control, but I don't think anything came of it.)
• Sharon Gless (Before "Cagney and Lacey" she was a pop artist)
• Robert Weston Smith (better known as "Wolfman Jack")
• Scott Bakula (Before he traveled through time, he was on LSD and got shot playing with a gun)
• Terry Kiser (Remember Bernie from "Weekend At Bernie's?" This was before he was dead)
• Linda Gray (J.R.'s wife. Before she shot him ... if it was her.)

Desert Storm - More Preparations

I cannot overemphasize the great help my friends, family and the entire community around Fort Bliss were to me and my fellow troopers. I cannot imagine having pulled off a success deployment such as we did without the support of those dedicated civilians who took on the cause of helping out. Here are some examples:

1. The folks at the Sun City Amateur Radio Club (K5WPH) were good friends and helped me out quite a bit. They were among the first to offer their support to help me get anything I needed for the trip. I especially need to single out John and Jeannie who offered to let me park my truck in their yard and their willingness to let me borrow their truck during the final days before we left.
2. GEICO Insurance: I was renting an apartment when we received notice to deploy. I moved all my worldly possessions into a storage unit and they were very nice about letting me transfer my renter policy to cover the storage unit even though they don't do that kind of thing. I appreciated it very much. (If their rates were more competitive I'd still be a customer!)
3. The manager of the Wallington Plaza Apartments where I lived was nice enough to let me out of my lease even though I didn't have a set of paper orders sending me away. A deployment isn't quite the same as a permanent change of station.
4. The El Paso Independent School District was nice enough to pair some of us up with elementary school students who were great about sending us care packages and mail. Although the sheer volume of mail we got there was astounding (more about that later), it was very nice to get mail from someone I met in person.
5. Of course, my family was great before and after I deployed. My mom and step-dad and my dad flew out to visit me for a few days before we left. Thankfully we had enough time getting ready that they had the opportunity to come down for a visit.

I know there are some I missed who were very helpful. Please accept my apologies for not singling you out. These are just the ones that stick out in my mind 20 years later.

We got all packed up and ready. By the time we actually got on a plane to go it was October. So in all, it took the better part of three months to make ready and leave.

On the day we left we met up in the large hangar on Biggs Army Airfield (across from the hangar where our aircraft and offices were housed) and waited. This was one of those famous Army "Hurry Up And Wait" occasions. I remember we were supposed to get on the plane early in the morning and ended up waiting until sometime in the late afternoon before our plane finally arrived to take us to Germany.

I don't remember much about the flight to Rhein-Main Air Base (near Frankfurt, Germany). We may have stopped somewhere along the way for fuel, but I my memory is a bit fuzzy on the details. I do remember everyone on the flight crew was very nice. One of the pilots in the group ended up getting the address of one of the flight attendants, with whom he corresponded regularly while we were overseas.

In Frankfurt, we deplaned and waited for our flight to Dhahran, Saudi Arabia. This is a port city in the east, central part of Saudi Arabia. There were tents set up with recreation areas and mess facilities. I remember parking in front of a TV watching Armed Forces Network while we waited for our flight out. More "Hurry Up And Wait."

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I remember the vast number of commercial aircraft parked in a row as we walked out to our plane. There were a large number of wide-bodied aircraft such as 747, DC-10 and such. I think we walked a couple miles down the flight line before we got to the plane which was to take us on the final leg of our trip.

All in all, it took about three days to get where we were going. And this was really just the beginning.

This is part 3 in a series. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19