Do you know what boosts morale, dear readers? Christmas cookies. Not Hooters girls.

Late Night Thoughts on Another Saturday In

Today we went on a mission to inspect a few agricultural projects the State Department in funding up in Kurdistan. Great projects...we ate some of the fruits of their labors. It is amazing what a little irrigation and education will do for a people. It reminds me of West Texas and their cotton. That's not why I write tonight, however. On long drives through northern Iraq, conversation often turns to what we're going to do when we land back in the States, both in effort to stay the boredom as well as to stay awake. An interesting point was brought up by a visiting Staff Sergeant today. He mentioned that some of us might go through a period of "culture shock" upon return. Things like well-paved roads, manicured landscaping, clean air, and an overall lack of trash will indeed seem foreign...at least for a while. Not having to scan for IEDs and men tossing grenades will also force a bit of an adjustment. But what I find most...alarming?...of all of that is that THIS IS MY HOME. 2 and a half months in, it's finally hit that this is my home, at least for now. It no longer feels odd going everywhere with a loaded M4. It's become as natural as putting on a seatbelt for me to throw on my "battle rattle" (body armor, helmet, gloves, etc...). Explosions and gunfire in the distance is what puts me to sleep at night. That stuff has become my West Texas thunderstorm. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I watched "The Hurt Locker" when it came out, and enjoyed it for what it was...a great film. I watch it now, and I UNDERSTAND the main character. For better or worse, this is my life. This, Iraq John, is who I am. This is my world now. This is hard for me to accept...except that this is where I have blossomed. When I spent a couple of weeks at my parents' house in August, after a few days, all I could think of was getting back to work. There is ALWAYS something that needs to be done, something that needs to be done better, something to pass on to younger soldiers, and it is my job -- my reason for getting out of bed each day -- to get it done. My fear is that I've fallen in love with a job, with getting better every day, with becoming a better soldier/man, that I am doomed to miss out on the things that I have always felt are most important...family, friends, and perhaps a wife and a family of my own. I love what I am becoming every day, but at what cost is all of this happening?

Cancelled Missions and The Resulting F-Bombs

Time does fly when you're having fun. It also appears to fly when in a combat zone. It is now December. It has also been a week since Thanksgiving, and also, my last post. We've had some missions go well, some missions not go at all, and a whole lot of nothing going on...which I've found to be good. On just about every mission we go on, we are provided escort by either the Iraqi Army (IA) or the Iraqi Federal Police (IP). If they don't show up, we scrap the mission and call it a day...just part of our agreement with the Iraqi government. Frustrating? Sure. 2 missions in row were cancelled earlier this week due to IPs not showing up to escort us into the city. One of these we found out about the night before, which provided a nice day off...a precious commodity, as I think I've mentioned before. However, the other mission we didn't find out about until we waited at the gate for nearly an hour. That proves to be the most frustrating. Every mission that we do here requires hours of planning, regardless of how mundane or monotonous it may seem. Along with the planning goes hours of preparation, whether that be fueling the trucks, checking radios, equipment, water, etc... We're often out on the trucks hours before we actually roll out the gate. Along with all of that, there is a period of mental preparation. While we haven't had any direct action with bad guys, we must prepare ourselves for that event with every trip "outside the wire." Even the most goofy guy in the platoon has to get a little amped up and show his war face from time to time. In the event of a mission cancellation at the gate, it is as if all the preparation leading up to the gate was for naught. So, that feeling combined with being amped up and ready to fight makes for expletive-laced, but rather quiet (and usually humorous*), ride back to the house. I really think our Iraqi counterparts are just trying to keep us on our toes. Good training.


* - Many of our missions involve the Provincial Reconstruction Team from the US State Department. That involves us taking "suits" to various places around the Ninevah Province. Most of these guys are pretty nice and cooperative. It's clear they don't like riding around town in our trucks with body armor and helmets on, but the rules are there for a reason...we had a PRT member catch an ammo can with her helmet-less head a few months ago...she's ok now. Anyhoo...On one particular cancelled mission the other day, we had a passenger mention to my platoon sergeant how he'd overheard the "f-word over 30 times." He actually spelled it out for him, but I don't feel I need to. The PRT fellow couldn't remember what truck it was, but it really didn't matter. My platoon sergeant laughed. I remember, though, and we're careful to not talk so loudly when he's in our vehicle these days.

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.