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[personal profile] aadler
 
Okay, I finally got home. It didn’t really take this long, but till now I couldn’t spare the time to put together a post.

Open First Cut: the Trip Home

As planned, I returned to BIAP about 7:30PM on Friday the 22nd. It was past 9:00 before we got the word of when we would be able to depart, and past midnight before we actually left.

On arrival at the transition base in Kuwait, we were separated into three groups: those who would be taking their leave outside the continental U.S., those whose itinerary would take them through the airport in Atlanta, and those who would pass through Dallas/Fort Worth. I got a couple of hours’ rest in transient quarters, then we were run through processing for departure.

That began with customs inspection. I wasn’t carrying anything problematic, but (like everyone else) I had to do a full layout to prove it. Once we got through customs, however, we went into lockdown: restricted to an internal compound, multiple buildings and plenty of room but designed to prevent anyone adding anything to baggage that had already been cleared. And then we waited some more.

With one thing and another, we were at the base in Kuwait for a full day. Then we were bused out to the airport — also in Kuwait — from which we would depart. For some reason, the route provided us was unusually circuitous. We continued to use the same plane throughout, but it was restocked and refueled, and sometimes re-crewed, at various stops along the way. In the process, I wound up passing through two foreign countries, and one U.S. state, that I’d never visited before.

Our first stop was at the airport at Burgas, Bulgaria. (Bulgaria.) We ran out across the tarmac in 7°F weather, most of us without coats, and found that the terminal wasn’t heated much better. After a few hours there, we proceeded on to Shannon, Ireland. Their terminal was much, much nicer; in fact, there was even a Guinness pub, outside which we could sit under orders forbidding alcohol consumption and with sergeants-major watching us to ensure compliance. (It was there, however, that I was able to phone Susan, my first contact with her since an e-mail Friday afternoon.) Shannon was our longest stop; once we were done there, we crossed the ocean to the airport in Bangor, Maine. There I tried to call Susan again to let her know that I was finally in the States, but it went to voice mail.

At Dallas, no longer traveling with the rest of the group, I asked for an earlier flight, and was able to advance by almost twelve hours. I called Susan again, twice, and both times it went straight to voice mail. (I later learned that she’d dropped her cell phone in the sink, and was having trouble receiving calls.) At 9:00AM I flew to the airport in my home state, retrieved my luggage, tried again to call Susan … and, still unable to reach her directly, called our son instead. He was able to tell me the situation, since he and his mother were still able to trade text messages, and he texted her that I had arrived. When I called him back, about twenty minutes later, he said she was on her way.

And, within half an hour, she arrived. I had started out on Friday; it was now Monday morning.

Close First Cut

Open Second Cut: the Trip North

Remember, the purchase of our house was finalized while I was at Fort Dix, so this was the first time I ever stayed in our new home, nine months after the fact. Anticipating our travels, Susan had left her cats, and two of the three dogs, with our son; the last dog, Beauregard, was dying of a tumor, and she had kept him because she didn’t expect him to last much longer. For the rest of that day, we relaxed (along with personal reunion activities), and packed our possessions for the upcoming trip. We had intended to spend another day at home before leaving … but, looking to get out ahead of a predicted winter storm, we decided to start off early.

On Tuesday, we drove to Springfield, Missouri, taking the ailing poodle with us. The motel I picked turned out to be a horrible choice, but we got through okay. (Except for Beau, who died during the night, but not because of the accommodations. I hadn’t even liked the dog — nasty little rat — but I still felt sad.) On Wednesday, after the necessary disposal of Beau’s remains, we drove to Springfield, Illinois. I made a better motel choice this time, and we rested in rather more comfort. Thursday, we drove to Willowbrook, Illinois, located the school we would be visiting, and then found a hotel for a couple of days’ stay. I used the laundry facilities there to clean my uniform, which had gotten less-than-spring-fresh during the long flight home.

Close Second Cut

Open Third Cut: the School Visit

Friday, after breakfast, we pulled our stuff together and went to the school from which 55 third-grade children had written the “Dear Soldier” letters I chose to answer en masse.

It was fun, and interesting, and a huge ego-boost. I couldn’t really believe what a big deal it seemed to be for them, but indeed it was: all the children who had written — and to whom I had replied — were brought to the parish hall, and some parents were there as well, and someone I believe was introduced as head of the school commission, and even a reporter. I had been told the kids were interested in hearing about my ‘experiences’; since, this time out, my experiences have consisted of working in an office, I had taken the time to put together PowerPoint presentations of my first three deployments as well as this one. I also gave them a flag that had been flown over Camp Liberty, with accompanying certificate, and Susan gave them a prayer rug I’d brought back from Afghanistan. I went through the slide shows, basically photos and quick commentary, and then spent something like half an hour in a Q&A with the kids.

When the kids themselves were finally returned to their regular schedule, Susan and I were given a tour of the school, and then we sat in on one of the classes. For some reason, the school is focusing on China right now: language, history, literature. Susan read the story of “Blue Willow” to the class, and she is a good reader. (So am I, but she’s willing to overact for a very young audience, which made her better at this particular time than I would have been.)

The school gave us stuff, too: posters the kids had made, a signed photo of all the kids, a bunch of new letters, school shirt and jacket and tote-bag, a gift card for our own use. (When we looked at the amount, later, Susan and I were both stunned; that was a BIG gift.)

Close Third Cut

We’ll be doing more later, going back to the church — since it’s a Catholic school — for Mass, either tomorrow or Sunday. We’ll also be seeing some sights in Chicago. This is just how things have gone so far.

Date: 2010-01-30 04:46 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] texanfan.livejournal.com
Sounds like an adventurous road to get there, but I'm very glad the school visit was as inspiring as hoped.

Date: 2010-01-31 09:23 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ozma914.livejournal.com
I'm glad you made it back safe (and escaped the storm), and that you were able to experience that school visit. Still, I'm a little sad you weren't able to down a pint while in Ireland; seems like such a waste of a visit to the Emerald Isle.

Date: 2010-02-01 12:04 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ozma914.livejournal.com
There's nothing like a good wife!