Signs of the Times

Just a sampling of the signage around Camp Victory and elsewhere . . .

Remember the rules at the pool? They don't change much at the helicopter terminal . . .



In an effort to defeat remote detonation IEDs, convoys blast electromagentic energy to jam the signals of cell phones, radios and other devices commonly used to activate an IED.

Another great feature of the Rhino - everyone gets their own gun port. Taking the bus in the states just wont be the same . . .

A Camp Victory Thanksgiving

Although the sign behind me is intended to remind people of good convoy and security habits, it also came in handy as I tried to manage my serving assignment on Thanksgiving . . . .

Many people have asked me what Thanksgiving was like here at Camp Victory and I have to tell you, it was pretty well done. But lets compare and contrast:

Home: 25 relatives and family friends to feed
Camp Victory: 45,000 military, civilians, contractors and workers to feed

Home: Alcoholic beverages
Camp Victory: Near beer and egg nog

Home: Loud relatives
Camp Victory: Loud rocket warning alarms

Home: Served by Aunt Jenny
Camp Victory: Served by Deepak, the contract laborer from Sri Lanka

Home: Talk about how great it is to see everyone
Camp Victory: Talk about how great it will be to see everyone next year.

In all seriousness, it is an immense undertaking to feed everyone. Since this war started, over 100,000 tractor-trailer loads worth of food destined for coalition bases have come across Iraq’s borders. Next time you are at your local grocery store, ask them how many trucks they get in a day or a week and compare.

The serving team is geared-up and ready to go in the prep area of the DFAC.

A Tradition Continued
It is a long and storied tradition that the officers serve the troops on Thanksgiving and Christmas. In the past, it allowed the troops, who usually did the serving, to be on the other side of the line for a change. These days contract workers do the serving but the tradition goes on and the officers in my section worked the serving side dishing up Thanksgiving fare. I was in charge of the prime rib, white meat turkey and dark meat turkey. To my right Josh was in charge of the ham and Cornish game hens and to my left Colonel Manning was dishing up sweet potatoes, stuffing and green beans. We had a great time playing host as I am sure the hundreds of other officers who served throughout the day did too.

The DFAC was superbly outfitted with holiday decorations and the culinary handicraft of the contract worker staff (99% of whom are Indian, Sri Lankan, Bangladeshi, and the like). They won the all-Iraq decoration contest and proudly displayed their enormous plaque.

This alligator, made almost entirely from pinapple skin, was a centerpiece on the shrimp cocktail table.

Incredible sculptures in watermelon were prevelant throughout the DFAC.

A good Thanksgiving for sure, but it will be even better next year . . . at home.

Old Geezer PT

For the last 15 months, the Resources & Sustainment Division has developed a bit of a tradition led by our commanding general, BG Anderson. Every Friday is “Old Geezer PT” – a 30 minute, three mile run done in six legs. The “old geezer” is the general himself, but what that doesn’t tell you is that he is probably the fastest man on the entire base. No one, young or old, can keep up with him. Old Geezer takes place around Lost Lake – a manmade lake that was previously the home to Uday and Qusay Hussein. The remnants of their dilapidated and crumbling villas remain a constant reminder of what a 500lb bomb can do when it rings the doorbell on your roof. The road around the lake use to be a favorite of the local snipers (which I guess would motivate one to run that much faster) but is now as safe as anywhere on base to run.

In honor of the last Old Geezer PT, some of the office really got into the "old Geezer" look. The bottle of O2 was my favorite prop. That's General Anderson in the middle.

This being the last Old Geezer PT prior to the General’s departure for home and the end of his Iraq tour, the more established senses of humor went all out to make it memorable and five of the guys from the office got dressed up as geezers (keep in mind, no costume store at Camp Victory), somehow finagled a bottle of oxygen from the troop medical clinic, hiked-up their gym shorts and set up to watch the PT, with an occasional comment about their backs. One kept yelling, at everyone, tongue in cheek, to “get off the lawn.”



The General hams it up with the oxygen mask for the group photo.

AFLAC!!!

A soldier enjoys the setting sun on top of his armored assault vehicle.

AFLAC!!!

The suspected insurgent fowl attempt to hide their identities from the camera . . . .

The power of nature shone forth today as I was driving down the road in front of the Al Faw Palace on base here. The palace is surrounded by a manmade lake which serves as home to a surprising variety of wildlife. I could see up ahead there was a convoy element with six gun trucks headed my way. That is, they WERE headed my way until nature subtly but forcefully stood in the way. A flock of geese decided to cross the road. I had a front row seat on the other side of the street as a large and valorous male goose strutted in front of the five-ton lead humvee mounted with a 50 cal machine gun. The goose spread it’s wings and quacked, ferociously. The convoy came to a sudden stop. A parade of a dozen geese casually crossed the road, one even breaking stride to leave a little something extra in front of the humvee. As the male goose started to cross himself, the lead humvee inched forward, only to once again draw the ire of the fearless bird who waddled back over, with wings spread anew. “You don’t want a piece of me.” Two amused troops passing by snapped pictures as these pugnacious waterfowl made their way into the lake. Geese 1, Military 0. Aflac commercial coming soon.

A giant American Flag hangs in the main rotunda of the Palace for Veterans Day.

Your Insider Access Pass to the Al Faw Palace

Multinational Force Iraq is headquartered in the Al Faw Palace, a grandiose structure in the middle of camp. I’ll tell you one thing, Saddam sure liked his ceilings colorful.

The ceilings are ornately painted in pastel hues.

Every door in the palace has an artistic renedition of Saddam's initials

And now, for another installment of "Everything is More Difficult in Iraq."

Our topic this week: Courier Service
Why is it more difficult in Iraq? Because it does not exist. I am getting a new cell phone. The people who issue the cell phones are located in the Green Zone. Only 10km away! No problem! I’ll just hop in my car during lunch and run over there. Easy. But wait! This is IRAQ! You can’t do that. You have to make a reservation on the Rhino (see previous post) or get on a helicopter to go over there. “Sure honey, I’ll be home in time for dinner. I just need to put on my body armor, load my weapon and hop in the helicopter to go pick up my new cell phone.” Then hope I don’t get bumped from the return flight and end up having to spend the night. If I come home and the limited patience you remember me having seems to be galactically expanded, this is why.

Nehi Night: Socializing (or not) in a War Zone

This oddity was here when American troops rolled onto the palace grounds. Although a murdering psycopath, Saddam was pretty practical with this and the little insect devouring machines that live in it. And Batman would be jealous. It's a man-made bat cave. Talk a about good material for a pick-up line . . .

What does one do to socialize in a war zone without an officer’s club, where you are encouraged to leave the dining facility as soon as possible so others can take a seat and where general order #1 is NO ALCOHOL (which really blows, by the way)? The answer? Nehi Night! For those of you who may remember the diligent yet easily befuddled character of Corporal Radar O’Reily on the TV series M*A*S*H*, you might also recall that Radar’s favorite drink at the MASH canteen was the non-alcoholic Grape Nehi. So our general, the chief logistician in theater, hosts a monthly Nehi night for his staff (about 65 of us). The last one was a few nights ago. I’ve decided that I’m going to wait to mobilize again until I too am a flag officer. It’s good to be a general.

My boss, CAPT Brantley, and I pose with the General we all work for, and the host of the evening, Brigadier General Anderson.

My office mate Manny and I enjoy some steak. Manny is a civilian employee of the Department of Defense. Note my combat utensils loaded in my tactical breast pocket . . .

There was a BBQ in back with steak cooking away and expeditionary lighting. “Expeditionary lighting you say Bob? Ohhhh, so it was like all red light to prevent the enemy from seeing you?” No, sorry folks. Expeditionary lighting was in the form of a Ford Explorer with the headlights turned on so the cooks could see what was going on. We had a petty officer who was given the collateral duty of turning the lights back on every time they automatically turned off. The base is filled with near-beer though, so you can still get the swilly taste of a bad beer but without the desired effects of a bad beer, which is why people buy bad beer in the first place, isn’t it? The downer is that all of the usual pick-up lines have to be completely re-tooled for a war environment because
1. There aren’t that many women around
2. There are even fewer available women
3. There are even fewer attractive available women
4. There are even fewer attractive available women who are my same pay grade.
5. There are even fewer attractive available women who are my same pay grade AND have a relaxed attitude about the Navy’s regulations on fraternization . . .
So not a whole lot going on here. The military is fond of saying “train like you fight and fight like you train.” I feel as though if that is the case, I should train like I flirt and flirt like I train. I don’t feel as though the Navy is supporting my personal development on this front . . . . “Dear Congressman . . . . .”

And now for a special feature I’d like to call, “Meet a Member of the Coalition”

This month’s coalition member – the Pacific island nation of Tonga! Tonga has a small group of Marines here at Camp Victory. They do a lot of the sentry duty at key points in camp. These are REALLY tough looking guys. As if they bench press each other in their off time. But once they see the appropriate ID card, you always get a huge toothy grin and warm greeting. There are 48 Tongan Marines in Iraq, which equals approximately 25% of the entire Tongan Marine Corps. As a percentage of national population, Tonga is contributing about the same number of troops as the U.S.

With Al Faw Palace in the background, welcome to this month's edition of Meet a Member of the Coalition!

Moving Day

Note the 12 foot concrete "T-Walls." These are arrayed to compartmentalize the trailers and minimize collateral damage if a mortar or rocket strikes close by.

Who knew I would ever be so happy to live in a trailer! Well, really 1/3 of a trailer. Okay, since I have a roommate, I guess it is only 1/6 of a trailer. But that 1/6 is ALL MINE. Does Home Depot have a trailer improvement section? I’d like to get rid of this linoleum floor and go for some hard wood, maybe get some crown molding installed as well as plantation shutters. I think it will go well with the warm, rich look of the faux wood paneling you see here . . .

The TV was left by the prior roommate. I think he was so happy to leave, he did not even bother selling it.

Seriously, I was happy to move to a trailer and finally settle-in. My roommate, Erick, also a LT, is a submariner (or a “nuke” as we might refer to them). Given that there is a huge fleet of submarines here in the, uh, hold on. Hmmm. How deep is the Tigris river again? Wait . . . no. Erick is assigned to the office of the Army Inspector General so he gets to deal with complaints and injustices large and small, both real and, in some cases, real ridiculous. He was happy to see me mostly because he was happy I was not his last roommate, an Air Force Judge Advocate (attorney) who apparently talked incessantly about his Duke law degree and had a penchant for working out at 0300. Ahh, the Air Force . . . that guy was probably also highly agitated that Camp Victory does not have a golf course or anyplace he could get his back waxed.


The Office

Now, I can make fun of the other services because we all make fun of each other. The commanding officer of my parent unit is an Army Colonel but most of his people are Navy. He loves to say “You know what happens when you send 100 sailors out to sea? They come back as 50 couples.” Boy does he think that one is funny. And truth be told, it kind of is. But even if it wasn’t, he’s a colonel.

The office has a neat tradition. We celebrate birthdays each month. Not just our own but family birthdays too. Remind me to not tell you about the conversation I fell into with a co-worker who told me the birthday of all her cats. That’s 1o minutes of my life I’ll never get back. So the general we all work for comes to the office to help us celebrate and we take a photo to send back home to wish everyone happy birthday. So if your birthday is in November, thanks for the cake – it was delicious. The members of Defense Contingency Support Team - Iraq (or at least the ones in the office that day) say happy birthday to all of you November birthday folks. That's the general behind the cake.


And now, W O R D O F T H E W E E K !

This week’s word of the week is “Hooah.” Yes, I know, not a word, but don’t tell the Army that. The Army as whole might have sufferred from a largely untreated speech impediment when it was young, completely eviscerating their ability to pronounce the letter R in the word “hoorah.” Each service has a different way of expressing motivation, etc.

Navy: Hoorah!
Army: Hooah!
Air Force: Hip, hip, hooray! (and you have to clap your hands super fast to do this one right)

In any case, “Hooah” is the Army catch-all word for “I can’t articulate a complete sentence.” Some Army folks, I kid you not, start and end every sentence, as short as they may be, with “hooah.” It essentially means anything but “no.” Try it out next time you are at a loss for words. I think we could really get this going.