Day 90

The Army tasks soldiers in many different ways to ensure the accomplishment of the mission. Things we have to do include shooting, exercising, driving, knowledge of our individual jobs, typing, and over and over again we take tests. Tests, tests, tests, tests, tests. It seems as though testing is a never ending process. Well, today I got voluntold to be the proctor of a mandatory test every soldier must take, the pee test. Oh, many people stay up hours and hours studying for the test. The rigors of the testing procedure leave many people strained. What, may you ask, is involved with the duties of being a proctor for the test? Why, I get to watch men pee in a little plastic cup to ensure that it is in fact their urine in the bottle and not some substitute. There are many different terms for the test, but the one I like the best is "Operation Golden Flow". Also, there are many different titles given to me by those I have to watch, and the one I have adopted as my unofficial title is "Meat Gazer". This morning at oh-dark-thirty, with the temperature hovering somewhere around the freezing mark, I entered the testing facility to perform my duties. Now, this is Iraq, and there is no indoor plumbing in any building, so we had to walk to a latrine trailer adjacent to the building. There's only one trailer but one with 10 stalls, so the men-folk used a stall on the left end of the trailer while the women-folk used stalls on the right end of the trailer. One of the rules is that I have to keep an eye on the bottle at all times to ensure nothing enters the bottle that should't already be there. Almost everybody passed with flying colors. In fact, there was one soldier who was in such a hurry to take the test we ran to the trailer. (A first for me; not running, but running after a pee-er). I have yet to figure out which is more humilitating; being the watcher or being the watched. A puzzle for the ages.

Day 89

My Dad is at my sister's place in California for Christmas, so at least some of the family was able to get together for the holiday. My sister and I made contact over the web using Skype. When Dad tried to use it he couldn't understand me. So we experemented. When contacting Dad, he sits at the computer and talks and I type on the Skype chat. It's a bit on the surreal side of life. I type as fast as I can so the conversation doesn't bog down too much, but the Skype delay is now added to by the typing factor. It'll work for us, and that's all that matters. Skype is a wonderful tool. If I ever meet the inventor I'll buy him a beer, and I'll have one with him. Everybody here uses it. Those people here with kids and spouses and family back home love it. I know I'm getting old when a 'golly-gee-whiz' like talking over the internet, with video and chat, seems new and almost magical to me. I wish I had this years ago. It's a great way to stay in contact.
On the non-technical side of the house, I played piano and organ in church today. I found what's going to get me through this deployment; performing music. There are other musicians here and one of them wants to start a rock/blues band, just for fun. He wants to include me, and I hope he does. I just wish there was a way to bring my vibraphone here, and get it back safely. Good thing they're WAY too expensive for that. We picked up a new Major to our Brigade last week. He's from Atlanta and he is a former Army Band Bandmaster of a National Guard Army Band. He said he was the highest ranking officer of the oldest National Guard Army Band in the US. It's nice to have other musicans with whom I can visit about things other than work. I'm reading books. I wanted to buy myself an Amazon Kindle for Christmas, but they're 11 to 13 weeks backlogged, so I'll put my name on the list and hope to see if I can one any sooner than that. Other than that, it's work as usual. I've had more than one, and one emphatic, request for pictures. I'll start taking pictures soon and begin posting them to the blog. I'm also experimenting with a Google tool and post more there, too. That is, if I can figure it out. I'll post directions when I'm sure I've got it working. On the bright side, we don't do our own laundry. We have washers and dryers close by, but they're supposed to be for emergencies only. In an effort to save water we use the post laundry facilities. We can take up to 20 items at a time and get them cleaned. It takes about a day and a half to come back all clean (well, sort of) and folded. So, I don't cook for myself, I don't do my own laundry, I don't pay utilities, I don't have a car payment, I don't have a mortgage payment, I don't buy gas, and the best part is, I don't pay taxes!! The downside is I have to clean my room, take out the garbage, and be away from my friends and family just to make a new life. It's all good. Still, being this far away from home and being here, I have no regrets. It is what it is.

Day 86

Merry Christmas!! On this day of happiness I almost hate to cloud it with a note of sour feelings, but I need to get something off my chest that's been bothering me. I know this may not be a big deal to some, but it has gotten me so riled up I feel as if I'll burst if I don't get it off my chest. I hate the word Hooah. The Army personnel use it as an affirmation for everything good but I'm here to say its use has gotten WAY out of hand. If somebody is feeling good, they're hooah; if the food is good, it's hooah; if the truck is running smoothly, it's hooah; if the weather is good, it's hooah; if the shower water is warm, it's hooah; if you slept well, it was hooah; if the microwave popcorn tastes good, it's hooah; if your uniform is clean, it's hooah; if you're in a good mood, it's hooah. Enough already. If you're interested, Wikipedia has a definition of the word. My view of the word is that it's kind of like cursing. When a person doesn't possess enough brain power to form a coherent sentence, they revert to a standby, be it a curse or the word hooah. I know it's a bit early for a New Year's resolution, but here is mine; I will do my best to never ever again infinity plus one, use the word hooah, except for writing it in this blog. I'm not kidding, I heard, from more than one person today, "Merry Christmas, hooah." I even heard one person use the hooah in lieu of the Ho's for the greeting, and it came out as, "Merry Christmas, hooah, hooah, hooah." As a good NCO I made an on-the-spot correction and gave the offending soldier a butt stroke to the groin. (Well, maybe in my mind, but it still made me feel good, and after all, it is all about me.)

Day 83

My first Iraqi sandstorm. Boy, are these fun. Thank goodness for wet wipes. You can't get your whole body clean, but you can wipe your face and hands and at least feel a little better. I have got to start carrying my camera with me. From the roof of our office we had a good view, of what we could see. And the wind seems to blow from every direction. I know the sand filled every crack and crevice. I was chewing sand and cleaning it out of the corners of my eyes. And it wasn't even a bad sand storm, or so they tell me. Can't wait for the big one. I updated my thoughts on a new camper. My original plan, before I took this all expense paid trip, was to retun home, trade off the PT Cruiser, use the Starcraft as a trade-in and get me a pickup and a new pull-behind camper. I like my Cruiser. I don't like my camper. So, I thought that since I only go camping 3 or 4 times a year, I might be better off if I were to purchase a van camper. It doesn't have to be new and it doesn't have to be pretty, it just needs to have a good engine and transmission, as I can't turn a wrench to save my life. As I get closer to my coming home date I'll start looking online for what I want. Makes more sense to me than getting a pickup with poor gas mileage just so I can go to the mountains every other year or so.

Day 82 - part 2

I have decided that I need another tattoo. Oh, I'm still getting Elmer Fudd on my butt. And Kate designed a really neat Concord Minuteman tattoo for me, but before I do that I need to find appropriate wording. The new tattoo I want to get will be a song. It'll start on my upper arm and wrap around towards my wrist. The only thing upon which I can't decide is what tune. I don't have a favorite song. I don't live my life by a specific tuen. I could use some input from all you all on what song you think I should use. I intend to have a five line staff with notes and chord symbols and lyrics. What tune? What tune? Oh, and by the way, I have already considered and dismissed a song from the "Wizard of Oz", "If I Only Had a Brain". But then again, I am in Iraq, so that is fairly appropriate right now.

Day 82

By the time this deployment is completed, my NCOER is going to need a continuation page. Late last week I was informed that I was going to be the range NCOIC for the Brigade. Mostly a symbolic appointment, but one that looks good when it comes time for yearly evaluations. And only yesterday I found out I got another additional duty; I am now the Fire Marshall for our building. Yep, I'm fire marshall Bill. I have to go to a class before I get my little red hat and badge, and I hear that's all of 45 minutes of training. Phew, good Army training there. Seriously, I could use a little plastic firemans hat and a fire chiefs badge. Feel free to send me more than one. Things are starting to smooth out here and late last night I remembered something that I wanted to share with all you all. (Good thing I have this forum otherwise I'd be talking to myself.) While at mobilization station we all got a four day pass. I went to my sisters place just outside of Sacramento, California and we did family stuff. Mainly I slept while she made me supper. On the day I had to return to Ft. Lewis, I knew I wouldn't need my civilian clothes, so I dressed in my Army uniform, with beret. On the drive to the airport, we pulled up to a stop light. I noticed the biker pulling up on the passanger side looked in my direction as he came to a stop, noticed how I was dressed, and then did a double-take. I nodded to him and he asked me, through my open window, if I was going to or returning from overseas. I told him I'd be leaving in a few days. He then stuck out his right hand, I did the same, and while we were shaking hands, he looked me in the eye and said "Thank you". The light turned green and we went our seperate ways. I never know what to say to people who say that. I always end up saying thank you back to them. It only seems polite. I honestly don't think this is that big of a deal. All of us in uniform today are volunteers. Just being in uniform deserves a thank you. To step up and say I'll spend some time in Iraq is, to me, not that big of a deal. I have a friend who some of you know. His name is James Coler. When we were at Guard drill back in the late 1980's, one of his sayings was, "My time is your time. I signed the contract in good faith. Just don't bore me." The Army has paid me, housed me, fed me, trained me, so why shouldn't I put all of that to use and be here for a while? It's just like a long, long, long, long Annual Training, the only difference being I don't get to see my friends or family for a long, long, long, long time.

Day 80

If I learn nothing else from this deployment, I will have learned this; the correct spelling of the word "Google" in Arabic is "Google". I obviously am still having problems with my country of origin issue and blogger. What's a guy to do? Even though the last couple of days have been 14 hour days fighting with the Active Army, I still have time for personal reflection, thoughts of introspection, and general day dreaming. On that note, I found a thing I miss; I miss buttons. On the BDU's, all of the pockets had buttons. When you wanted in, you undid a button, put in your thing, re-buttoned the button, and got on with your day. With these ACU's, velcro is kicking my ass!! You lift the flap to put something in, and if you wait more than one-tenth of a millisecond, the stupid flap falls back and the velcro reattaches itself, and you have to start the process all over again. And while you're fighting with your pocket, trying to put your hat into the cargo pocket, your notebook falls to the floor, and your rifle starts falling off of your shoulder, and the people behind you in line are getting miffed because you're blocking the isle. I miss buttons!!!