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| Saturday, 11-Dec-2004 00:00 |
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SPC Ellis--High Speed, Low Drag 27D
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"War is an ugly thing but not the ugliest of things; the decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feelings which thinks that nothing is worth war is much worse. A man who has nothing for which he is willing to fight, nothing which is more important than his own personal safety, is a miserable creature and has no chance of being free unless made and kept so by the exertions of better men than himself."
- John Stuart Mill
Late night working today. Left the office at 2130.
Someone asked me what a 27D is. Pictured is a 27D in the form of SPC Ellis. A 27D is a legal specialist or paralegal. SPC Ellis is new to the Army and is fresh out of Basis and AIT. He's 19 years old, from Richmond, VA, single, and has just finished his freshman year at George Mason University. He very well read, speaks French, plays electric violin, and likes Jazz and the Blues (which I think is a definite plus). He's going to do well in the Army because he's a natural at "acquiring" stuff that our office needs and at finding misplaced witnesses and clients. Iniative is what it takes to be a good soldier, and Ellis has that.
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| Friday, 10-Dec-2004 00:00 |
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A Blast from the Past
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10 December 2004:
"People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf."
- George Orwell
So check this out. I was in this warehouse of a mess hall today. And this female major walks by, and I know that I know her. I suddenly realized that she had been one of my plebes at West Point 15 years ago and that her name had been Prager but now was probably something different. But she was walking away so I just said, "Prager" in kind of a loud voice like an upper classman. She stopped and turned—I could swear it was facing movement and kind of stood there at attention and said, "Good Afternoon, Sir." It was so bizarre--”like stepping back in time 15 years. I explained to her that she didn't need to use formalities like "sir" any more. Long story short, she's now Major Joanne Moore. She's here as part of 3rd Army's G-5 shop. Very Bizarre.
I’ve kind of settled into a routine here at Arijan. I get up at about 6, do PT, go or not go to breakfast. Then I work until about 8, eating lunch and dinner at some point in the process. I'm starting meet with court-martial clients and starting try to deal some cases. This, of course, involves quite a bit of back and forth negotiation with the Government prosecutors. That's the part I like the best. I wish I could write about my cases, but I can't bec. of confidentiality issues. But they consist of little of everything.
Our new 27D, SPC Ellis, tells me I need to get a life and tried to get ne to go to an MWR Salsa Nite tonight. I laughed and reminded him that we get lots of clients out of Salsa Nite type gatherings. Instead, I called home. Amy and I got to talk for quite a while before the line went dead.
Today was the day that I decided to try and disinfect my Squat. Let me tell you that was job for better soldier than myself. There were enough dust bunnies to form a large posse. And the bathroom, I doubt has ever been cleaned. I'd have given a lot for pair of rubber gloves. Fortunately, lots of cleaning supplies had been left. It's now cleaner than it was. I won't bore you with the details. But it was Gross. I really can't complain and I won't. I'm living the good life compared to the vast majority of the thousands of soldiers here.
I think every former occupant has left something here. I mean there were nearly a hundred item left by former soldiers--like a TV & VCR (both operational); a toaster, an ironing board and Iron; a giant sized container of GNC Whey, packets of miso soup (a good find); Q-tips; a copy of Muscle magazine, 4 pillows (two with pillow cases); 5 towels, multivitamins etc. You get the idea.
Cleaning this place you get an idea of how shoddy the workmanship is. The hardstand buildings are apparently funded and built by the Kuwaiti government. It's so new that the sinks and bathtubs still have the stickers on them. But all the doorstops rip out of the floor, the bathtub is cracked and rusting, the light fixtures have holes cut for them that are too big and a gap shows, the toilet wobbles precariously. . . . . I really can't complain and I won't. I'm living the good life compared to the vast majority of the thousands of soldiers here. I'll enjoy it while I can.
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| Thursday, 9-Dec-2004 00:00 |
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Dangerous Men and Their Laundry
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December 9, 2004:
"Man has learned, over the course of 4000 years in which organized armies have existed, to identify in that minority those who will make soldiers, to train and equip them, to supply the funds they need for their support, and to endorse and applaud their behaviour at those time when the majority feel at threat." ~John Keegan
Normal day. Lots of article 15s and a couple Summary Courts Martial. Have a few other cases that I am trying to work deals on. Today was laundry day for me. There are two options here. First, they have a place that will take your laundry away and wash it for you. I started to do that, but the idea of waiting in line to get up to a counter to count out my dirty underwear together with a Third Country National worker just didn't do it for me. So I went with the second option which is to go to a trailer out behind the barracks. There are two face to face, and they are full of free washers and dryers. You just provide the soap.
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| Wednesday, 8-Dec-2004 00:00 |
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Loose on the Kuwaiti Freeway
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8 December 2004: I got a few pics on the fotopage, but then I couldn’t get any else on. I think it has to do with the internet speed. When all cylinders are firing, it is pretty good. But often it’s not moving fast at all. I may be just reduced to blogging text. The phones are about the same. Every call that I have made home has terminated bec. the line went dead. No goodbyes. Today the internet went down at about 1500 and was down the rest of the day.
It poured rain today, buckets. I wish I could say that the desert bloomed into a colorful palette of flowers and plants. But I can’t bec. it didn’t. But still it was nice to have some cool rain. I and a driver took CPT Emery to Pod 2 at the Kuwaiti Airport to fly to Baghdad today for a 32 hearing. One has to always travel in groups of two—with weapon and rounds. And it requires a memorandum from a commander to get out the gate. You are checked as you leave to ensure you have each of these things. When you take someone to the airport, you have to take three so there are two left for the ride back. The military part of the airport is separated from the rest of the airport. The Kuwaiti air force owns the part we go on. It’s very 3rd world looking. They make/let you drive right on the flight line to the hangar where one flies Space A to place like Baghdad and Afghanistan. Lots of reporters fly this way. That looked like most of the passengers today. Then I got to find my way back to Arifjan. It was the first time I’ve had to navigate over here on my own. When you get back to a camp, you have to got through three separate check points of varying degrees of scrutiny before they let you back into the camp. The rest of the day was taken up wrangling a new 27D—which I procured in the form of SPC Ellis from Richmond. We supposedly get to keep him a year. 27D’s, like most commodities, come from the government side of the house. They, obviously, have very little reason to help TDS, their nemesis. So we get treated like the proverbial redheaded stepchild most of the time. But we have independence and get to travel. Most soldiers here—there’s about 16,000—never get to leave the camp at all.
There was a sign on the outside of everyone’s doors today that said the NCOIC and bldg manager would be coming through to inventory furniture at some random point in the next week. A fellow JAG friend, CPT Curry, says that’s how they catch squatters like myself. So here’s hoping . . .
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| Tuesday, 7-Dec-2004 00:00 |
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Arifjan to Doha Pics
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These are pics I took on the way from Camp Arifjan to Doha.
December 7, 2004:
Happy Pearl Harbor Day. I feel like I am now back in the groove with criminal justice, fielding random calls with bizarre questions that come in every ten minutes; arguing with commanders regarding rights; and going on the offensive to get cases to trial. I hear from my boss, LTC Taylor, in Baghdad that he wants me to stay in place here in Kuwait until the end of January. Then I will replace another attorney that is rotating out.
One of the things that is hard to get used to is this-after getting off of active duty, I had to get really used to not saying, "Out" at the end of conversations. I finally got used to saying "bye-bye" or something to civilian clients--thus softening my otherwise abrasive personality. Now that I am back on active duty, I keep saying "bye-bye" which is met with a awkward pause and then "yeah. . .out."
My stomach's still not quite used to the food. After eating, I get this sort of queasy feeling like I've eaten something not quite right. They have wash points at the door of the messhall. Right after the barrels of sand where you have to clear your weapon (in other words, visually inspect for a round and then point into the barrel and pull the trigger). In the bathrooms and at the wash points, they provide you with rolls of paper towels that have the thickness of but a slightly tougher consistency of toilet paper. Great for drying hands. During in Christmas we have three whole days off. Not sure what one would do for three days in this God forsaken place. Maybe I can catch a hop somewhere exciting.
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| Monday, 6-Dec-2004 00:00 |
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Squatting--the good life
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6 December 2004: Today I am officially a squatter. We took Ambeau to Doha to catch a flight back to the states. His wife is very pregnant in a high risk pregnancy, so TDS released him early. As you might recall, I am supposed to be in the what is considered to be pretty nice bay wing of one of the buildings (a step up from tent city)—where I am currently signed for a bunk—which one? Who knows. Instead, I am squatting in a room that Ambeau somehow rangled that looks like a bad college dorm room, but believe it or not has cable—India HBO, AFN, CNN International etc and a bathtub. We’ll see how long it takes them to figure out that I am here. The room is a filth pit and the workmanship is abominable. It prob. Has never ever been cleaned. It has tile and berber like carbet on the floor but there is not such thing as a vacuum that I have seen so far over here. Anyway, I am feeling pretty good not to be in a tent—even though the tents have build in wooden floors and A/C and heat systems. I have been in the bathrooms and showers in some of these tent cities and many of them are extremely gross germ factories. I am going to miss Ambeau even though I have only known him for a few days. He was a really efficient E4 27D that knew how to work the system and get the job done. He’s about 35 and about to be the father of his 4th. He volunteered for the army after 911. In real life he’s a wine expert for a restaurant. He has degree in philosophy and plans to go to law school in the fall.
My fantasy while I am here is to own my own green plant.
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| Thursday, 2-Dec-2004 00:00 |
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Escaping Camp Virginia (sans duffels)
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2 December 2004: One wonders if the nightmare is ever over. My tuffbox showed up but no luggage. But let me tell you about Kuwait first. Kuwait is like the moon. The ground is composed not really so much of sand like you would see at a beach but sand that is like ash after a volcano or like talc or like cornstarch. Very fine stuff. And for the most part it is completely desolate. It’s like being on a giant construction site that has been excavated and scraped clean. There are sidewalks at Arifjan but they make no sense. They seem to just exist make people walk at odd right angles across yards of dust. There is no grass to stay off so why sidewalk. Must be for rain. Anyway, last night by the time we left, it was dark. Darkness here does not creep up. It seems to literal fall with little or no twilight. I think maybe that’s bec. there’s a linear horizon with no trees, buildings, or mountains to break it up. We drove for about an hour on these buses. All I could see in the dark and through the curtains were lots of trucks set up selling things out of the back along the road. They all lit with these bar shaped neon lights. We arrived at Camp Virginia and got off and on the bus for unknown reasons a couple of times. My ID card was swiped (there’s a whole section of a Personnel Company with the “Swiping Mission�) and that’s supposed to start combat pay etc. They we got a little brief about “you are now in a combat zone.� Then we went to get our bags. That went down like this. Basically, an 18 wheeler pulls up in the dark and it is chalk full of identical green duffle bags and rucks. They form a twenty man chain under headlights and off load the gear into one giant pile. Then everyone looks for their stuff using flashlights. I found my black tuff box full of books pretty quickly. But once everything else was sorted out, my ruck and duffles were nowhere. An E-7, SFC Peterson a postal worker from MN, that is permanent party at Camp Virginia took me all over the place to look for my bags. Without them, I had no clean uniforms, underwear, towels, sleeping gear etc. By midnight, we’d had no luck, so he smuggled me into the permanent party tent with has what most be people call cots but the Army calls beds bec. they have mattresses. He gave me one of his pillows and blanket and I went to sleep.
The morning wasn’t much better, but at least you could see. I checked and rechecked with the Signal Bn that I came with but they didn’t have the bags. I finally made contact with CPT Emery and SPC Ambeau at Arifjan. They came to get me around noon. While I waited I wondered around Virginia. There’s like a little square with a PX and Green Beans Coffee and a Pizza Place and a Subway. I tried the coffee—awful. They’re all in these little trailers. The soldiers call the square “downtown.� There were a lot of Korean and Japanese soldiers running around. And there were some Fiji soldiers with Blue UN hats. Two of the Koreans talked to me in line for chow. They seemed anxious to practice their English. They are some kind of elite unit. Most of them were wearing HALO and or SCUBA tabs. I went to the PX and bought underwear. Around the camp at random are scattered porta potties and pallets full of water bottles. Less frequent are these trailers.
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| Wednesday, 1-Dec-2004 00:00 |
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KUWAIT!!
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1 Dec 2004: I am in Kuwait! Yesterday was spent largely trying to convince unmotivated, uninspired personnel to do their job and get my deployment orders cut. It was a long long day. I think I made a few people angry, but sometimes that’s necessary to get the mission accomplished. It didn’t help that I had gotten in at 3AM the night before and felt like I had the flu which it turned out I did. Early this morning I went and got my weapon, loaded up my bags, and headed for the scales and the green ramp at Pope. I am traveling with the 50 Signal Bn from Bragg. All my bags were mixed in with their’s at Pope and I hope I see everything again. We had to wait about 4 hours in the load shed, which is really a huge warehouse with these giant homemade wooden benches that look like they’re made for troops with chutes on. As we waited, they served hot chow. I ate some bbq chicken and felt a lot better. Soldiering has changed somewhat. I walked around while we waited and no one was playing cards. Instead, everyone has gameboys or computers or those small dvd players. Instead of wallets of CDs, they carry mp3 players and wallets of DVDs. All around the load shack, soldiers were huddled around electrical outlets to power their entertainment. We flew on a World Airways MD-11. I was really surprised when before we loaded they told us there was a first class cabin for CPT’s and above and senior enlisted. And it turned out it was a very nice first class—tons of room, a lazy boy style chair, and individual TVs. It was surrealistic, however, to see a commercial jetliners so full of weapons—M4’s, M16s, 203’s, M9’s, SAW’s. We flew from Pope to Bangor, Maine. There we deplaned for a couple of hours while the crew changed. Bangor has put together this group of veterans and civilians called the Bangor greeters which come out greet every troop plane. They have snacks and free cell phones for soldiers to use. I talked to a couple of WWII vets—one of which provide air support for Monty at El Alemien and one which was a cannon cocker in the Hertigen Forest. They gave me a free Steven King book bec. King is Bangor’s most famous son and benefactor. After Bangor, I had a flu relapse and had alternating chills and sweats and a massive headache and considered death an alternative. From Bangor, we landed in Rhein Main and though is 5AM, they had a mini-PX that was open and I bought a pharmacopia of drugs—all of which I am now taking. 4 hours after leaving Germany, we landed in Kuwait City. Of course, there was no one here to greet me. We loaded onto little Japanese buses and pulled into a secured area to await baggage to get unloaded. The they issued ammo to a couple of SAW gunners per bus, who are acting as guards as we travel. In front and behind, we are being escorted by Kuwaiti MP’s. Little blue curtains on the bus must be drawn. We are on our way to Camp Virginia which I understand is an hour away. Never mind the fact that I need to be in Arifjan. I’ll figure it out later. BTW, Kuwait looks just as God forsaken in real life as it does in pictures. But surprisingly, it is cold—like 55. And they apparently just got some rain.
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| Saturday, 27-Nov-2004 00:00 |
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Pictures of Training at Fort Bragg
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Ready for Chemical Warfare . . . Sort of.
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Body Armor & Helmet
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My home for three weeks. It's looks worse in real life
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| Sunday, 21-Nov-2004 00:00 |
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More more and more of the same
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11/21/04: Today, I went to two hours of more CTT with the 818th. They had a guy who injected a real Atropine injector into bottle of water so we could see how it works. There?s a real emphasis here on what?s called the ?9 Line,? which is 9 line medevac request. That emphasis lets you know it?s the real deal. Later in the day, I went off post to get my flak vest with a name tag and rank and helmet band and to update my map bag. Another night, another movie.
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