aadler | Entries tagged with iraq2009-10

Cool wind, blowing with some force. The rainy season has been overdue for weeks now (and cold weather likewise), but this may be the harbinger of its arrival.

I’m still looking to lose weight. I’ve cut myself down to one meal a day … although, to ease myself into it, I’ve been padding that with snacks. Now to begin trimming out the snacks.

My daughter has left the state where she’s been living, and should now be living near her not-quite-yet fiancé; when I talked to her last week, she was planning to leave the following day, so I can be fairly confident in the schedule. My son is resting a bit before starting what may be his last regular semester in college (he still hasn’t yet established whether summer classes will be enough to complete his degree). Either way, the finish line is beginning to ease within view.

Now that she knows my mid-tour leave dates, Susan is beginning to put together our itinerary. Since the school visit is the centerpiece, she needs to arrange the timing on that first, after which the rest can be determined. But now we know when, and I’m within the three-week mark now.

The Buffyfic I was working on, I didn’t finish by year’s-end, nor did I truly expect that I would. Now I just need to focus on getting it done before leave time arrives. Susan loved the Magnum story I did for her birthday, but she hasn’t read anything else of mine since I left. I’ll be reading “Family Skeletons” and “Queen’s Gambit” aloud to her, along with the newer one (presuming I finish it in time, and I’m determined that I shall). She enjoys that, and I enjoy doing it.

Another day, and the “Life is pretty damn decent” trend continues.

(Inspired by the one here by

bellatemple.)

( Long series of lists under the cut )

So, if I’d waited just a little bit longer, I’d have had more to report yesterday.

After I’d made my year’s-end post, I went to the chow hall for dinner. On my way back, I got a special treat: our hosts in the Iraqi civilian sector decided to help us celebrate the onset of the new year, with fireworks. Not much for visuals, but the sound was certainly impressive. I went prone behind a concrete blast wall until it seemed to be over, then reported to HQ for accountability. After which I went to my CHU to do some reading before bedtime …

… and wouldn’t you know it, those lovable scamps decided to send some more holiday cheer our way? That one I waited out hugging the floor of my CHU, then continued reading, and then on to bed.

It bothers me, though. They went to so much trouble to help us celebrate, and I just know there’s next to no likelihood that I’ll ever be able to reciprocate in the same spirit. Because of that, all the people who tell me they’re praying for me and those serving beside me? — I would greatly appreciate if you would dedicate some of those prayers to the prospect that someone, somewhere out there, may be in a position to recognize those who made such a generous effort of their time and ingenuity, and offer them a suitable reward.

With copious interest.

We finished yesterday, only six hours behind schedule.

It’s New Year’s Eve, and I don’t have even the prospect of finding anything alcoholic to drink. (And would be subject to court-martial if I succeeded.)

Sometimes I do New Year’s retrospectives. Not this time. Just not in the mood.

Hope all is going well for everyone.

This morning brought another of the many wonders that accompany life in-theater: the unannounced drug testing. To make it better, it was for almost three dozen people. Better yet, I was one of the designated observers: as in, my duty was to directly monitor the providing of urine samples.

Trust me, the thrill wears off really fast.

For those of you who don’t have the pleasure of going through it on a regular basis: one has to drink copiously for anywhere from 30 to 90 minutes, to ensure that one is capable of providing a sample 1] on demand, 2] of the proper amount, 3] on the first try. (Because something that we do all the time without thinking about it poses a slightly greater difficulty when you’re being watched in-process.) And then, having delivered, you pee more or less non-stop for the rest of the day.

***

I turned almost all of my duties over to my assistant team leader this past week, trying to accustom him to the workload in advance of my mid-tour leave. Went okay at first, and then yesterday it became clear that he was a full day behind schedule. On the day before the week’s work was due. So we’re still behind schedule, and I’m not pleased, because — to prevent us going two days behind schedule — I wound up doing some of the stuff that I wanted him to learn. So it’s the same routine next week.

This is annoyance, not hardship. I’ll have to be sure, though, that he understands where he fell short and what he needs to do about it next time through.

And another day passes.

On my first deployment (Iraq, 2003-4), I found myself having a problem with weight and fitness. ( Boring details under the cut ) It just seems a bit ironic that I should be so far behind the curve in two things — running and weight — at the point that I’m stronger than ever in the remainder.

The weather continues to be stunningly good. I know, talking about it — maybe even just allowing myself to consciously recognize it — is an invitation to five-pound snowflakes. I can’t help myself, though, it’s just so nice here.

It’s only three days until next year. 2010 … wasn’t that Arthur C. Clarke’s follow-up to 2001: A Space Odyssey? The future is now. I can still remember how odd it felt to start writing 1961 at the top of school papers, just when I’d got comfortable with 1960.

As part of the continuing effort to keep as many as possible of the military people here occupied in actual military pursuits, the guards for the facilities on-base are contractors. No, not the ‘infamous’ Blackwater (now with a different name); these, I believe, are Ugandan, polite black men in khaki uniforms that appear just slightly more comfortable than our own. There’s been some kind shift recently — wage negotiation, perhaps — and a different crew has come in. Same basic uniforms, same general appearance … but where the former carried the familiar M16 or M4, the new group has folding-stock AK47s. The last several years I’ve become so accustomed to keeping a sharp eye on anyone carrying an AK, it’s a bit distracting.

Still looking to do further work on the fanfic I mentioned. Maybe later today.

And that’s it for now.

I did, in fact, at last receive a specific date for my mid-tour leave; it begins in the third week of January. I said in my last post that I’d provide more details, so here they are.

( Info under the cut )

I have been very fortunate in my life, and the good things don’t seem to have stopped yet.

So. Christmas in Iraq.

Helicopters go by overhead, front end lights on as they prepare for landing on the helipad next to the building where I work. The temperature has ranged from the low sixties to the low fifties, so that I feel a little cool when I go out without a jacket, and sweat just a bit when I wear one. My wife sent me a load of presents, which I dutifully waited until today to open. Almost all were discount books. She knows me well, and she also understands the way things work in-theater: she sent me stuff that I could give away or leave in the base library when our tour here ends, rather than having to find a way to cram it into my baggage or pay to ship have it shipped back. I went to Christmas Mass, the first Mass I’ve attended since leaving Fort Dix. And we were given the entire day off, which — trust me — is NOT the way it normally goes.

This is my second Christmas in Iraq. In 2003, I was attached to a team in Samarra for the three weeks that contained Christmas, and was miserable for all of it; the only time I was ever warm was when I crawled into my sleeping bag at night, wearing everything except my boots. The weather has been a lot nicer this time around, and I’ve had it a lot easier as far as duty goes.

Tomorrow, probably, I’ll find out the specific dates for my mid-tour leave. (I’ll have more details later about how I plan to spend that leave.) Very soon, my daughter will be moving from California to Idaho, to be closer to her not-quite-yet-fiancé. And I’m a little more than 500 words into a new fic that I hope to finish before the end of the year. I’ll have to push to reach that goal, but it can be done. Whether or not I’ll do it … we’ll see.

It’s Christmas in Iraq, and it’s not bad at all. I hope it’s going well for everyone else.

Let’s see if I have this right.

Our commander-in-chief needs to make a decision on how to proceed in Afghanistan. So, he asks for a study by, and the recommendation of, the theater commander, the U.S. military’s leading authority on counterterrorism. The general who has been so tasked, after taking the time necessary to be sure he’s dealing with the most current and pertinent information, comes back and says, “In my opinion this situation doesn’t really call for a counterterrorism approach. We need to be running a counterinsurgency program. (Counterterrorism means finding and killing the bad guys. Counterinsurgency means changing the conditions that allow the bad guys to operate.)

All by itself, this catches my attention. It’s like seeing someone who’s spent his career becoming the recognized expert on nuclear submarines turn around and say, “A small group of PT boats would actually do a better job in this particular spot.” Everybody tends to favor his own specialty; when someone looks outside that paradigm, you need to take him seriously.

Then the same general offers three different counterinsurgency approaches he could institute, based on the resources he’ll be granted. The troop-heavy approach would require 80,000 new combatants; the lightest — and not necessarily his favorite, but he has to offer contingencies — would need at least 40,000. At which time the commander-in-chief — after stalling for as long as he possibly can — says, “You know your low number? What you said was the realistic minimum you would need? I’m giving you 75% of that.”

Given all these things, my questions is this: does our commander-in-chief even KNOW what a direct insult he just delivered? I can see four main possibilities:

He’s saying, “You’re lying and I know you’re lying. You don’t need anywhere near that many troops, and I’m calling your bluff. Take it or leave it.”
He’s saying, “You’re incompetent. You may think you need that many troops, but you don’t. I know, because I’m smarter than you, even though you’ve been doing this your entire adult life. This is what I’m giving you; take it and like it.”
He thinks the general is probably right, but he doesn’t care. It would be politically embarrassing for him to order a massive troop build-up right now, so he’s going to do the least he figures he can get away with. The insult wasn’t his main purpose, but he’ll let the insult stand in order to get what he wants.
He’s so thoroughgoingly clueless, so narcissistically oblivious, that he doesn’t even recognize he just called one of his leading generals a liar and/or fool. Besides, isn’t it these guys’ job to shut up and salute?

Maybe there’s more to this than I’m seeing. I don’t believe that, but I would happily be proven wrong. I just see someone choosing a half-assed course based on domestic political expediency rather than military reality. Given the time-frame he laid out, I’m unlikely to be among those who pay the immediate price for his parsimony … but I’m part of that brotherhood, and I greet his decision with neither confidence nor respect.

( Info under the cut )

It’s my wife’s birthday. A month ago, in anticipation of the event, I wrote a fanfic specifically for her, set in the world of Magnum, P.I. I posted it to a hidden site a few days ago; yesterday I sent her a quick message to check her e-mail on her birthday, and this morning — a few minutes after 9:00 AM, meaning it would be technically past midnight in her location — I e-mailed her the link to the hidden story.

Tomorrow, I’ll post the story here so others can check it out (because I just know the world is clamoring to see what I composed for a show that went off the air 21 years ago), but my main aim for now is that nobody will get to read it before she does.

I’m supposed to call her in about two hours — it’s something I do practically every Friday — and I’m dancing in place at the thought of her reaction.

I’m so excited!

I can’t believe how long it’s been since I’ve posted. It doesn’t really feel like I’m that busy, but every day has stuff that I have to take care of, and then I look around and it’s been over a week.

There are some personal projects — even aside from my *cough* slightly demanding work schedule — that I need to set as priority, but once I have a handle on that I really want to start writing again. I’ve done it before, as postings from prior deployments will indicate, but it’s a matter of getting my feet under me. Still 11-hour days, with occasional extra duty, and I know I can do more than I’m doing but I really don’t know where to get started.

Nonetheless, I can guarantee I’ll be posting a story within a week … because it’s already been written, I’m just holding it for a specific occasion. Once that’s been dealt with, it’ll be time to begin on whatever else I can do.

We’re doing our job over here, and it’s working. I wish I didn’t have to worry about my country falling apart before I can get back to it. Or being so forcibly altered that I’ll feel like an alien when I arrive.

[P.S.: I just got notice that “Family Skeletons” has been nominated at the Unlocked Awards”. This does not displease me. Check out the site, and be sure to nominate any stories you think deserving.]

Another post from the thrill-a-minute that is my life.

( Believe it or not, the weather )

( Military and Political )

( Fanfic writing blues )

I’m ready to go to chow, and then back to my CHU to relax for the few hours until bedtime. This is me, signing off.

Catching up for the moment.

( Personal, military, and political stuff under the cut )

And that, I think, should do it for now.

[LiveJournal Poll: “What is your biggest worry right now?”]

[View 1198 answers]

My answer: Rockets.

Okay. I’m here.

Been here awhile, but we started work almost the moment I arrived, and there hasn’t been time for much of anything else since. My official duty day is eleven hours long, plus an hour of mandatory exercise first thing every morning, plus whatever meetings or extra tasks get dropped on us. (For instance, I had night duty last week: twelve hours doing guard at HQ, and then I went straight into my normal eleven-hour shift. Fortunately, I had been permitted to sleep on the office couch, as long as the phones were turned up loud enough to wake me if any calls came in.)

I’ve been in Iraq for just under two weeks now, and all that time has been taken up in a mad scramble to learn the job of the team we’re replacing, because they’re gone very, very soon. This is different from anything I did before, but I can tell already that I’m going to be good at it. A nice change of role for me; I always held up my end, but I was surrounded by superstars, and was well aware that I suffered by comparison. My current position is an almost perfect match for my interests and capabilities, and I have every intention of excelling.

I just hope I don’t do so well that the team replacing me will never be able to match my example …

Hey, it could happen.

Among other things, available Internet time is very, very limited for me. I’m two weeks behind in checking my LJ friends list, so I’m posting this quick and moving on. More and better, perhaps, once I’ve had time to catch my breath.

On All My Motions

“All that is not eternal is eternally out of date.” – C.S. Lewis

Entries tagged with iraq2009-10

As the world turns

Ten-year retrospective

… Out with a bang

Last post of the year

More of the horrors of war

Weighty matters

Trivia for the day

Taking leave (but not of my senses)

Noel, Noel

Troops to Afghanistan: the Decision

Otherfandoms 04: “After-Action Report” – Story Index

I’m very excited today …

Running to catch up

This ain’t a vacation, but it’s definitely a change of pace

Another Day in the ’Box

Writer's Block: Worrisome

Greetings from sunny Baghdad