A Thanksgiving From Afar

I have never spent a Thanksgiving away from my family. Even years where keeping a job required me to be there for that day, family came to me. It is by far my favorite holiday. People always look at me strangely when I say that, but it is true. "Why not Christmas?" is always their response. Christmas is good. I love Christmas. It is my second favorite holiday. Behind Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving, for my family at least, is nothing more than a day of fellowship. And wonderful, wonderful food, of course. It is this simplicity that I so love. There is nothing else going on this day, only a gathering of family to enjoy the fellowship of each other. Cooking and cleaning up seem easier on this day. (That may just be how it seems while I look on from the couch. Ha?). But ultimately, there are no complications other than timing the dinner rolls just right so they're ready when the green bean casserole comes out.

That said, today, as with every day, I am thankful for my family. It is hard for me to put into words the love that I have for every single member of my family, but it is felt. I was incredibly blessed to have a loving (but sometimes trying...ha) grandfather for 27 years. This will be our first Thanksgiving in a long time without him, and he will undoubtedly be greatly missed in the cirlce of family around the food. I am incredibly grateful for my wonderful Grandmother that I still have in my life. I am grateful to her for the way that she raised her boys and her daughter. My uncles have played a large role in my life, and am eternally grateful to both of them. My mother and father have spent the last 30 years trying to get the best out of their two boys. It's nearly killed the both of them, my brother and me, but I think we've turned out ok. No amount of thanksgiving can equal the love that these two have given us, nor the lessons they've taught us. My brother really took advantage of the "big brother" thing, but over the past few years, and possibly due in part to his lovely new wife, he has become a good friend as well as a brother. (That may also be due to his fear of me whooping him now). I am sad that I didn't get many years with my paternal grandparents, but am grateful to them for the father I have as well my 3 uncles. I am always impressed when I think of my grandmother raising 4 boys...especially hearing stories of those 4 boys. I'm positive I would've run away.

Every Thanksgiving, we all gather around the food, say a prayer of thanksgiving, and, one by one, say what we're thankful for. This is not done without the obligatory complaining (also a big tradition in our family), but unfortunately, I am not there today to voice my discontent over this ridiculous act. I will however offer what I am thankful for today:

Everything that I am today, everything, is due to all of you standing around this circle, those who have gone before us, and those not able to be here with us today. I am not physically here with you all today, but I am who I am today because you are all here with me today.

"Always remember there was nothing worth sharing
Like the love that let us share our name"

What I'm Thankful For, Wednesday Edition

Today, I'm thankful for the people I am proud and honored to call friends. I have a lot of friends, but the closest to me have been with me for nearly 2 decades (REALLY?? Time does fly, no?). Through my greatest trials, tribulations, etc..., these friends have been at my side, and though we can let our get-togethers be affected by work, new additions to the family, and distance, the relationship is never affected. I have been a bad friend at times, and these people have never once held it over my head, and never hesitate to pick up the phone when I just need to talk. Late night talks about girls in high school turned into late night talks about girls in college turned into late night talks about girls we were going to marry (or not). Nowadays, the talks about girls have mostly been replaced by talks about running away from our current jobs to chase our dreams of the moment, and the late nights replaced with late evenings, but it's still the same old relationships. I never tire of these people, and if I could've stolen them to take with me to Iraq, I would've. That probably would've put me back in the bad friend category, but come on...it's an expression, yeah?

And, you guessed it, I also really wrote this on Wednesday.

What I'm Thankful For, Part II

Being that I am forgetful, I might have forgotten to continue this for Tuesday. But because I also have editorial power, you'll never know.

This Tuesday before Thanksgiving, I am thankful for the good health I have enjoyed in these short 27 years. I am rarely, if ever, sick, have never had any major illnesses, nor any injuries to speak of other than a broken nose. Based on scientific research and what the FDA, Heart Association, etc... say, I should, by all accounts, be dead. However, every checkup usually ends with the doctor saying, "You are in great health. Keep doing whatever you're doing." Check. As I write this, though, I am knocking rather loudly on every piece of wood I can find. I have been blessed with great health by my parents (awfully pale white skin, but great health), and I am grateful every day that I wake up with no pain or strange flesh-eating bacteria attacking me (thanks for the worry about every time I swim in a lake, though, Mom).

Also, I am thankful that I (normally) live in a country where going to run errands doesn't involve worrying about being blown up or avoiding countless check points to get to where you're going. We take for granted so many things in the US. You literally don't have to leave your house for anything anymore, and if you do for some strange reason, there's usually a drive-through so you don't even have to leave the comfort of your padded leather seats and air conditioning. Say what you will about all of that, it is nice. We're a fatter people for it, and more unhealthy (except me), but health care is improving along with that, so it balances out.

I could go on for hours about this, but, truth be told, I just ate my Thanksgiving lunch and the sleep monster is sneaking up on me. But seriously, I wrote this on Tuesday.

Seeing as how Thanksgiving is this week, I will spend the next few days going over some of the things that I am thankful for, leading up to the big day. These will be in no particular order, and I reserve the right to be thankful for more than one thing per day.

Today was a semi-annual check-up on our M109A6 Paladin Self-Propelled Howitzer (my office, so to speak, when we actually DO field artillery). That means standing around and waiting for our mechanics to stand around and watch us do seemingly pointless tasks like lubing the infinite number of lube points on said gun. As I did these things this morning, I realized that I am thankful to have a job (no matter how much I gripe about it) that I still get excited about in the mornings when I wake up. Even on my worst days (yes, I have those), I don't dread going to work. I'm thankful that I work with some of the most loyal, hardworking men in these United States. I am thankful that I have a job that lets me get my hands dirty, and feel like I accomplished something when I "clock out" for the day. And I am thankful for the security that this job offers. I know that for at least the next 4 years, I'll have a steady paycheck with a real opportunity for advancement. Finally, I am thankful that I can give what little I have back to a country that gives us so much. Not too many people can say all that about their respective jobs, and I feel bad for those people. That's not to say this job is for everybody, because it most certainly is NOT. It works for me, though, and I love it.

Yeah, yeah, yeah...that's a whole bunch of sappy pap. And when it comes down to it, this little exercise may be more for me to look back on some day when I'm waking up at 4 am to go on a 12 mile ruck march. That said, check back tomorrow for the next installment.

A few of you have likely noticed my lack of posts over the past week. Sorry. No excuses. But as I said to my dear friend, the Buffalo Betty, it's hard to just whip up masterpieces. Unfortunately, not all missions come with a message. Every day, I try to pull something out of this experience called life (in a combat zone). That doesn't always happen. Some days are just exercises in frustration. That being said, I'm not going to use this blog as a platform to air out my frustrations. The bottom line, however, is that, some days, absolutely nothing happens. (And yes, I'm aware of the absurd amount of commas used in that previous sentence. It works.) Today was one of those days. Our battery uses an unmanned aerial vehicle (UAV) to do reconnaissance work around some of the...er...less friendly areas around our FOB. This provides us with a great deal of intelligence in areas that we don't want personnel on the ground. However, if this little bird goes down, somebody has to be on call to go get the blasted thing. Today, our platoon served as the quick reaction force (QRF) for the recovery. All this means is that our trucks are ready to roll out, and we're on standby in our rooms (about as close to a day off as it gets). Since we've been here, we have not had a Raven go down "outside the wire." Today was no different. But had it gone down, believe me, we were ready.

Alright, peeps...that's what goes on most days. If that will satiate your appetite for what goes on in my life on the day to day, I will write every day about my life in general, interspersed with thoughts, ideas, etc... Also, I fixed this so that anyone and everyone can now leave their comments, suggestions, questions, etc... Please do. I will do my best to respond as quickly and as fully I am able.

As a sidenote: It is selfish of me, the writer, to withold from you, the reader, what is going on in my life. For those of you whom I do not regularly speak to, this may be the only connection you have to me. If that is the case, I apologize. I will do better.


In an effort to shake this whole thing up a bit, I'm going to start a weekly...thing. Think of every Sunday as a press conference. You ask questions, I will answer them no later than the following Wednesday. Obviously, if it deals with anything related to Operational Security (OpSec) I won't answer it. Don't let that stop you from asking, though. I will at least tell you why I won't answer it. Also, don't be shy about telling people back home about this old thing. I love being able to keep people back home in the loop about what's going on in this little corner of the world. Unfortunately, what is reported on news networks is often bad, and I'd like to at least let people know what is going on here from the perspective of a soldier on the ground.

That is all.

-j

I'm still here

Not too much is happening over here...which I think is a good thing. I mean, we did recently see the Iraqis finally come together to form a working government. We were at the meeting when that was decided (granted, we were only there to provide security for our State Department personnel), so that's definitely something I can take from this deployment.

A few days ago, we finally got to go do a mission that had previously been cancelled 3 times. About 75km north of Mosul lies the Mosul Dam. For those geography buffs out there, it is the only dam on the Euphrates river and provides power to most of northern Iraq (the portions that do have electricity). The mission was to take out a couple of UN workers to inspect an IDP site. As everyone knows, IDP stands for internally displaced persons. As we pulled up to a checkpoint near the dam, we entered into what appeared to be a fairly affluent (at least by Iraqi standards) neighborhood. Hardly a place they'd stick displaced persons. Apparently lake-front property is a precious and valued commodity all cultures. However, after stopping to ask for directions (yes...men are capable of doing that...we just hate doing it), we found the right road to take us to the right area. Nestled into a valley that would otherwise be a prime piece of real estate was a village of mud huts. No electrity, though the Mosul Dam Power Plant was less than 5km away. No running water, even though the reservoir was just a few meters away. Their water source was literally garden hoses simply placed into the lake. There were no roads into the village, and on the other sides of the hills were fences undoubtedly placed to keep these people in. Since there were no roads, we had to park our vehicles at an Iraqi army outpost and our guys had to walk through the draw and down into the village. My guess is that these people are Kurds, displaced from previous regimes and wars. Your homework for today is to look up these people. They've not had a place to call their own for decades and decades. They're finally becoming more accepted (or rather, tolerated) in Iraq, and now that there's a government that is involving them, my hope for them is that villages such as this IDP site and others like it will become a thing of the past.

A quickie

I literally just posted, but reading the previous post got me thinking. On November 2, the people spoke. Some people were excited, some people were not. I majored in political science, and think of myself as a pretty knowledgeable fella when it comes to that kind of stuff. However, because of 24 hour news networks (an issue I won't go into here now. Perhaps another post), I HATE politics. And that saddens me. However, I feel I've got enough gas left in the tank to lecture you, the reader. In my final semester of college, I took a class called Political Psychology (a real hoot, believe me) in which we were required to submit a 20 page paper (what the professor believed should be a good START to a decent research paper). I chose to write about the polarization of the United States. Without boring you to death with the details (I shaved it down to about 22 pages in the end, I believe), my thesis was more or less that our Great Nation was becoming increasingly polarized which would ultimately shut out any hope for "main street America" having any voice in our government. My contention was that it was years down the road, but, for whatever reason (...ahem...24 hour news), this great polarization is happening now. Both sides have a list of demands and refuse to negotiate, and the regular ol' American voters are the ones being held hostage. The previous post made me think of this, so allow me to explain: As I said, the military represents what is great about this nation: all different types of people from all different walks of life working together for a common goal. Why can't we translate this into our everyday lives and our government? They say you don't talk religion or politics amongst friends, but why can't we remain passionate, yet still work together for the common good? When you boil it down (philisophically), we all want essentially the same thing: the greatest good at the lowest cost. As we continue to drive the wedge in between these roads to what's best for our nation, compromise will get harder and harder, which, in turn, will create much larger problems for our nation.

Just something to think about before we get back into war stories and whatnot.

How We Got Here, Part II

The question begs (at least from my perspective), "Hey...you were OUT. You had nothing but problems, and got out. Why go back?" Good question, dear reader. Part of me would answer simply: I am a glutton for punishment. However, a greater part of me would say that I hadn't yet fulfilled an obligation I felt I owed my brothers (and sisters) in arms. See, around week 5 of basic training, these strangers that were thrown in together from literally all walks of life begin to work in concert with each other, depending on one another to get through the various ordeals. I fell in love with these "joes." Individually, a private in the Army is generally like a 2 year old: Lacking in motor skills, language proficiency, and full of tantrums. However, there is nothing more resilient than a group of privates when given a daunting task. It might not be done the smart way, or the "right way," but man, if it doesn't get done. So when I made the decision to go back in on the active duty side, I did not hesitate to go the enlisted route. When things get done in the military, they are accomplished by junior enlisted soldiers. This was reiterated over and over to me by my senior non-commissioned officer instructor in ROTC. While the officer gets the credit, the young soldiers are those responsible for that credit. The best officers know this, and I felt that there's no better way to truly understand this than putting myself in the shoes of the joe.

On Veteran's Day, I received many thank yous from people on my facebook page. Every one of them thanked me for what I am doing for my country (these thank yous truly meant a lot to me, so thank you all for your shows of gratitude). While I love the United States, and wouldn't call any other country home, I'm not willing to lay my life on the line for my country. However, I would not hesitate to lay my life down for the guy standing next to me, knowing that he would say the same thing. Don't get me wrong, I took an oath to defend our Constitution and will do so for as long as I breathe, but what means more to me are the men standing next to me, for they represent what this great country stands for. Every race, creed, etc... is represented in the military, and it functions as one. No other organization in the United States can say that. Are there problems with racism, close-mindedness, and sexism? Sure, but no moreso than in Corporate America. But when the bullets start flying, all those labels no longer matter. Bullets have flown here, and I have seen this first-hand.

I am proud to be a part of this Army. I often wake up in the morning and can't believe that I get paid to do what I do. I don't get paid much, I work long hours, and I'm in it regardless how I feel for at least the next 4 years, but when I sit down and think about my decision to go back in, I feel no regret. The road to here was a long and winding one, but all of those choices that I made along the way got me to where I am today. If I could go back and do it all again...all the debt, heartache, wandering, and mistakes...Yes. I would.

"I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be."

How We Got Here, Part I

I always wanted to believe that man is inherently good. I've come to realize, however, that, at least for the most part, this belief is bunk. Man is not inherently good. Nor is man inherently evil. Each person has potential. (Metaphysically speaking, of course. I know for a fact there is no potential for me in the world of say, chemistry.) What that person does with that potential can be viewed as good or evil. That gives me comfort when I lay down at night. Not that I can wake up and do evil...although it is an option...I'm comforted by the idea that we're not tied down to one or the other. Every day we wake up, we have options. Now, that's completely over-simplified. Rarely are life's decisions black or white, good or evil, vanilla or chocolate, but you get the idea. It took me many thousands of dollars and many, many years of trials, tribulations and the like to land at this discovery (worth every penny, as well as the blood, sweat and tears, looking back). It used to keep me up at night thinking we're predestined, and that all of this is just us going through the motions, waiting.

Back in November of 2006, I was going to school (sometimes), working for a cell phone store, and trying to disprove the statistics and make a long distance relationship work. I wasn't happy in school, work was simply a paycheck for gasoline to travel to the girlfriend, and distance in miles was creating a distance between the girlfriend and me. In November of 2006, I woke up with several options: do/don't go to class, do/don't drink tonight, do/don't call the girlfriend about weekend plans. In the same November of 2006, 63 Americans in Iraq, many of whom were younger than me, lost their lives. At 19, 20...some of these kids knew nothing other than their parent's house, their barracks room, and war. I had led a selfish life up to this point. I gave nothing of myself away. I was blessed to have the loved ones in my life as well as the opportunities I had been given. In all of this, I had options. One cold night in November, it hit me that these young men and women would never have the opportunity to squander the things I had chosen to. Many of these strangers had joined the military to specifically to get the opportunities I'd had been given for free. They'd sought a better life for themselves and their families, and they'd lost it all.

I joined the Army National Guard on 11 December 2006 in order to become an officer. I no longer believed that I was destined to do anything, let alone save the world, but I felt like if I could make a difference in the lives of the 30 men I'd be leading into combat, it'd be a start, and I could gauge my world-changing abilities off that. The National Guard made sense to me at the time because it would allow me to finish up with school, all while learning to become the best officer I could be. Now, I won't delve too deep into my experience in the Guard, but suffice to say, it is not what they show before the previews at your local movie theater. After 1 week of Basic training, I decided that being a part-time soldier was not what I wanted. It needed to be a full-time gig for me. I spent 2 years, 7 months and 20 days in the National Guard. In that time, I missed 3 classes of Officer Candidate School (due to a rather large communication breakdown) and never realized my goals of becoming a commissioned officer. After very much deliberation, and 2 years, 7 months and 20 days of frustration, I received my Honorable Discharge from the National Guard. Just under 30 days after walking away from all of that, I would be sworn into active duty in the United States Army.

*Author's Note: When I sat down to write this, I fully intended to write an entry with a beginning, middle and end, as most decent writers attempt to accomplish, but often fail to do...I digress. However, after writing far more than the typical reader would be expected to stay with in a single sitting, I made the command decision to leave you all with the first, but perhaps not last, multi-part entry. I will undoubtedly complete the series tonight, but intentionally withhold it, both to annoy the reader as well as give them a reason to come back. Plus, it puts me in a position of power over all of you, the readers. That being said, do try to enjoy this, and be sure to take notes. There WILL be an exam.
-j




On my homepage, I have a quote of the day section set up (inspiration, brought to you by google!). After today's mission, I came in to my room to check up on e-mails and saw one by Douglas Adams (I've never read anything by him, but I'm sure I would like him):

"I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be."

Knowing about his writings, I'm undoubtedly taking it out of context, but it really sums up my life story up to this point. I left high school, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed ready to tackle the world and solve it's many problems. 9 years, 133 semester hours and a mountain of student loans later, I am what the civilian world would call over-qualified for my position, sitting in a country that needs our help more than they realize (for whatever reason you choose to insert here...I have no opinion. Ha.), and have no real complaints. 9 years ago, I never once thought I'd be sitting here now. Moreover, if you asked 18 year old John what 27 year old John would be doing, he'd likely say working as a record producer for a punk rock label out in California, married to his high school sweetheart. Well, the music industry changed, she married someone else, and John changed too. 18 year old John changed into College John, the idealistic romantic, hell-bent on grassroots efforts to make the world a better place. That John would have told you 27 year old John would be in law school, married to the love of his life and raising two terrible black cats (actually just one...mine was but a sidekick in their hijinks). That almost happened. Somewhere deep inside, though, the idealism gave way to realism with just a touch of cynicism (and probably a few more -isms in there...no need for input from the peanut gallery on this one), and College John was kicked to the curb...for better or worse. There was just a touch of romanticism left that fateful day that 23 year old John signed his life away to the United States Army.

So, I've been busy. That's a lie. I've been lazy. I haven't written, even though I made a promise in Kuwait that I would write at least SOMETHING nightly. I really have no excuse, especially since our operational tempo (or optempo, for those who wish to sound hip around the water cooler) has slowed. We're on an off-week of sorts. Our missions ended on Saturday for the week in order for us to refit and rest a bit.

In my last post, I believe I mentioned I got pulled off mission last-minute. As I've said before, I hate sending off my guys on mission without me. This particular mission, however, I am grateful I did not go out. The vehicle I was supposed to be on was lucky enough to suffer a flat tire. Now, these particular vehicles are equipped with tires that are designed to withstand just about anything short of an explosion. They're called run-flat tires for a reason. Allow me to put your collective minds at ease: this flat tire was not caused by an explosion. This tire was flattened by a driver that had to have hit something large enough to rip a quarter-sized hole in the outside wall of said tire. We drivers are a proud bunch, but there's nothing you can say to defend that kind of operator error. For all it's faults, the International MaxxPro is a remarkably easy and forgiving behemoth. Luckily for our platoon, the tire failure occurred near a checkpoint manned by a platoon of infantrymen from a sister battalion who also happened to have a spare tire (being that these tires are about 4 feet high and weigh about 300 pounds, there's not really room for a spare on the vehicle). While they were out there, I was receiving periodic status updates in the command post (CP), laughing to myself (after finding out they were all safe, of course). Little did I know at the time what was to come. Upon their return, our commander sent out word about the next day's mission (previously a scheduled day off). It has since become known by several names, including, but not limited to: "Operation: Saving Private Tire," "Operation: Good Job, Jay," and "Operation: REALLY?!?" Without giving away too much about our operations, the mission brief went something like this: conduct movement to checkpoint 8 in order to resupply a (single) tire and class 1 materials (technically items of subsistence). What this broke down to was a platoon escorting 1 maintenance truck loaded with one (1) tire, and 3 cases of gatorade (as a thank you, I assume) to a platoon very much isolated (the accompanying picture gives you an idea of what these guys deal with daily) from the creature comforts we enjoy here at Marez. After waiting nearly 2 hours for our wonderful escorts from the Iraqi Army (apparently we caught them on a day off), we took off to checkpoint 8, somewhere north of Mosul. A short drive later, we arrived at what can only be described as a refugee camp. 30 guys live in tents, exercise in a gym that consists of a pull-up bar and a bowflex, use porta-johns (the contents of which must be burned off by highly motivated privates), and eat wonderful Meals, Ready to Eat (MREs for the non-military folk) 3 times a day. The good news for these guys is that (hopefully) they get relieved some time in February. I found myself not wanting to get out of the truck because of my sheepish feeling arising from coming from my comparative resort city of Marez. However, I did get out to walk around to see how these guys live with very little. I was reminded of my visits to the homeless villages around Abilene. The cases of Gatorade were greeted like kids coming downstairs on Christmas morning. It was embarrassing thinking that we were complaining about the CP not having milk just hours before. These guys literally have nothing, and probably complain less than we proud artillerymen. This mission, all absurdity aside, left me grateful for what I do have. While I am in a country filled with seemingly new threats arising every day, I have it pretty good. And someone ALWAYS has it worse.

In other news, on Friday, I (officially) finally got a sister to bully (in absentia) when my brother married his love. So, congratulations, Jeremy and Janette...May you both live as one for as long as you both shall live. I greatly wish I could have been there...but this business...

Also, tomorrow is election day in the States. As a favor to me, all of us over here and everyone in this world that doesn't enjoy that right, get out and vote. Nothing changes without you telling the candidates what you think. Know who you're voting for and voice your opinion! We're 334 years strong, but that can all change with apathy.

That is all.

-j