Greetings everyone,
Following is the latest installment.
I am working the night shift at the Entry Control point for LSA Anaconda with a great bunch of professional soldiers. Presently learning the jobs is like drinking through a fire hose, especially since I am hopping on board with soldiers who have been doing the job for nine months.
More details of LSA Anaconda will soon follow.
I do have my address now:
SSG Kevin D. Smith
B Troop, 1-167 RSTA
APO AE 09391
Take care and thank you for all the thoughts and prayers.
Kevin
Tuesday, 27 Nov 06
We headed our tonight to our last meal on the town before we ship. We ended up going to Chilies. Not my 1st choice, but they had something for all ages to enjoy.
There is nothing more fun than a group of soldiers celebrating. The relationships that grow between soldiers is unique. The seventeen of us, from 18 to 43 years old, and previously unknown to each other, have jelled through our training and have developed bonds that are unlike any other. It is one thing to have a good friend. It is another to count on them to watch your back in combat. To do what is right, no matter how dangerous. Even though our little band will be split up once we hit country, we nonetheless developed these bonds.
When a group of soldiers get together there are always the "war" stories and sometimes unravel out of a simple comment.
Such was the case with one of our four soldiers who have just graduated from their Basic and Advanced training this past September. Webster, a 19 year old Native American from the Macy, NE reservation made a comment that the nickname we were calling him (Big Web) was better than the one he got at Basic Training.
After much "encouragement," Webster told us his story. One day at Basic his Drill Sergeant asked him if he liked doing Bear Crawls (a physical exercise where one walks on all fours with your rear high in the air, used as "mental conditioning" for soldiers who need more reinforcement training). Webster, being the wise soldier he is, answered "Yes, Drill Sergeant." His drill sergeant then had him bear crawl over to a tree, scratch his back on the tree, hold his hands in a clawing motion, while shouting "RRRRRRR! I’m a great big itchy bear!"
Henceforth, in basic training, as is now, Webster is known as "Itchy Bear." Webster learned a huge lesson tonight. Never tell a group of soldiers anything you don’t want them to know. It will definitely be used against you.
Thursday/Friday, 30 Nov-1 Dec 06
We are finally on our way. 0430 wake-up, breakfast, draw weapons, load bags and depart Fort Benning at 0800. We get to Atlanta, check in and wait.
Our plane is on time and pulls out of the gate as scheduled.
We then sit on the tarmac and wait.
It seems there is a group of people on board the aircraft with extra baggage and all of them are overweight (I guess our 64 duffel bags each weighing around 55-65 pounds each was more then the Northwest expected for a DC-8).
It just seemed odd that they fixed the problem by having four people seated in the rear of the plane move to the front of the aircraft.
Once we were cleared for departure (nearly 1 hour late) the flight attendant thanked everyone for flying Northwest and then thanked the Service Members on board going to the Middle East, at which the passengers broke out in applause.
It kinda restores a little faith in our mission when something like that happens.
With our late departure also came a late arrival in Detroit where we were to meet our flight to Frankfort, Germany. Our arrival time was 5:05 pm, and our departure time was to be 5:10 pm, leaving us no possibility of making the connection. It turns out they held the plane with over 300 passengers on board for our small group.
Wow!
I can honestly say that I now know what a sardine in the can feels like. There was not an open seat in the plane, and regrettably the Army didn’t pop for first class accommodations.
So coach it was.
Three movies and seven hours later we landed in Frankfort where we have to sort our bags, get our weapons, go through customs, board a bus and go to an Army base to wait for transportation to Ramstein Air Force Base to once again wait for transportation.
No flights today, so we load our bags again, get moved into a warehouse with bunks and wait for tomorrow.
Saturday, 2 December 2006
Load bags, board bus, unload bags, wait.
We’re starting to get into a rhythm.
The way the Air Force system works is if there is a flight going your way with open seats, you get them on a first come-first served basis, with a caveat. If someone with higher priority shows up, you can get bumped. If there is a mechanical problem or no available crew for that flight, it may be canceled.
Bottom line, we are at the total mercy of the Air Force and we are not happy.
But don’t get mad at the Airmen, you may get bumped.
Two soldiers going to Afghanistan who trained with us at Ft Benning left five days before us. They are still here in Germany.
The Air Force world is definitely unique. With all the present and Retired Air Force friends and family reading this, I better stop there. I’ll just say that I am glad the Air Force isn’t running commercial air travel.
Sunday, 3 December 2006
We are presently somewhere over the Persian Gulf on our way to Qatar. Yup! Qatar. South of Kuwait just off the Persian Gulf. All of us got bumped from the flight to Balad. So the quickest flight to get to Iraq is to go south and catch another one north.
I
f we get stuck there it is probably the best location in the region. The military has a R & R (rest and recreation) center there for personnel in theater who need a break.
So now we are in the back of a C17 (a very large cargo aircraft). In fact the pilot just informed us that we are flying over Balad and Baghdad. And we can only see through the 8 inch window in one of the two rear doors.
As a means of transportation the C17 isn’t bad. The seats are a little uncomfortable, we have to wear ear plugs the whole flight, and there no windows except for two 8 inch portals on the back personnel doors. But we can sleep in the open spaces around the cargo.
I and others just got done with a mean game of Uno, and on the other side of the cargo is in a heated game of hearts that has been going on for 5 hours.
The pilot has been letting everyone come up to the cockpit (which is great) and is updating us on the college game scores. The Husker game just started and he is getting messages on the action. It turns out the Pilot is from north-west Iowa, a Creighton University graduate and spent several years at Offutt Air Force Base in Bellevue, NE.
The co-pilot told me that this past Thursday he had the most rewarding flight of his 3 years of flying. His cargo consisted of one Marine and six medical personnel. The Marine was in a vehicle that was hit by an IED and received a small piece of shrapnel in his right eye, causing damage to the cornea. They had just 15 hours to get him from Iraq to a retina specialist in a California hospital before he lost his sight. After a 13 hour flight and a mid air refueling, they arrived in time and his sight was saved.
I just got back from the cockpit and saw Kuwait, the Iraq oil ports (where they fuel all the oil supertankers) and the oil fields of Iran, all at 33,000 feet. All through the desert are dots of orange signifying the natural gas that is being burned off at each well head. The horizon was dotted with hundreds of them. It would have been even better to see all of this in the day.
I just arranged for two of our young soldiers to sit in the cockpit when the plane lands in about half an hour. I love to see soldiers get a once in a lifetime chance like this. I wish I was there to see their faces.
Monday, 4 December 2006
We drag our bags to the air terminal only to find out we were bumped again.
So we do what we seem to do well, wait for the 1530 flight to Balad.
The bus picked us up to drive us out to the plane at about 1500 hours. We loaded up into the cargo compartment of a C130 Hercules Cargo Aircraft.
Now, a C130 is not my number one choice for a means of conveyance to Iraq. But for a three hour flight, it would do.
Being much smaller that the C17 (which can hold two semi trailers and still have a lot of spare room, the C130 can hold about three pick-ups). That’s it.
But they packed about 50 of us with all our gear. Packed is the correct term.
You sit waist to waist and knee to knee.
Then there is the noise.
It is a four engine turbo prop and I don’t think the Air force wasted taxpayers money on sound insulation.
Now don’t get me wrong. The C130 is the workhorse of the Air Force. Small, nimble and mighty.
It’s used for parachuting soldiers, air drops of supplies, can easily withstand dramatic temperatures hot or cold, and can go numerous places that the larger C17 and C5 can’t.
Oh, did I mention that the C130 is over 50 years old and still has a long life in the Air Force, Navy and the Coast Guard.
Anyway, we quickly took off after loading, but in fifteen minutes into the flight the pilot announced that we had to return due to a malfunction (it turns out the air speed gauge was faulty).
We loaded onto a bus, waited an hour, loaded onto a different aircraft and waited another hour while they repaired a fuel leak and refueled the plane.
By the time the three hour flight ended we couldn’t wait to get out of there.
The final approach into Balad/Anaconda was quite interesting. We came in at several thousand feet and then the pilot nosed the aircraft down at about 35 degrees and made a hard turn at full throttle.
He pulled up at the end just in time to softly land the plane.
My first combat landing was better than any roller coaster ride.
And this was all done at night without any landing lights. You gotta love those pilots.
So now, after 99 hours we have finally reached our destination.
