On the Down Hill Slide to Home

My relief, LCDR Robert Fitzpatrick, and I toast (near beer, near beer, no one get too excited) at a BBQ at COB Speicher near Tikrit.

My "farewell Iraq" tour started at Balad Air Base as I introduced my relief (person taking my position so I can go home) to our sailors based there. It was one more chance to fly the friendly skies of Iraq in a helicopter, a form of transport I have come to love. With the weather warming up, many of the Blackhawk crews no longer even slide the doors closed so all you have between you and the ground as the helo swoops around is your four point harness. Better than any amused park ride, and with two machine guns.

Two last "above Iraq" photos from the trip to Balad Air Base.

We also visited COB Speicher. My friend MAJ Denis McDonnell who is in charge of our operation there likes to say "don't blink or you might miss Spring." How true that was as the mid-March temperature quickly passed 100 degrees. Smokers get black lung but I think those of us serving in Iraq will end up with "brown lung" from the ubiquitous and aptly named "moondust" covering this country.


Speaking of weather warming up . . .


LCDR Fitzpatrick and I were scheduled to go on to the Al Taqqadum (frequently referred to as "TQ") Marine base in Al Anbar province but bad weather canceled our flight, and pretty much all the rest of the flights for the next three days. A virulent dust storm had long ago grounded rotary wing flights* and now even the stout-hearted C-130 Hercules prop planes were unable to land at COB Speicher. Speicher, named after the only American to remain in MIA status after the first Gulf War, is headquarters of Multi-National Division North and the 1st Armored Division. The two-star general based here controls the battlespace for all of Northern Iraq.

The original flight we were booked on, now long since cancelled, actually routed via Kuwait, or approx 800 miles out of the way. The ratty passenger waiting tent at Speicher is a canvas shell covering metal arches overhead. A dozen or so residential, window-mounted A/C units were installed through holes in the canvas and struggled to cool the space and its 50+ occupants, a mix of military, government civilians and contractors resigned to our fate of an indefinite wait for an unknown ride out of camp. LCDR Fitzpatrick and I were the only Navy personnel there.

Young soldiers, far more accustomed to the Army's unofficial slogan of "hurry up and wait" ensconced themselves in corners, using their body armo for a mat on the dusty plywood flooring and falling asleep. They appeared uninterrupted by the persistent ebb and flow of foot traffic and the resulting gyrations of the loosely supported flooring with each step. A refrigerator for water sits in one corner. Although originally white, it is now, like eveything else here, a medium shade of tan. A power failure in the tent garners nothing more than a few assorted sighs. The trailer-sized 15-ton generator providing power has been taken off-line for periodic maintenance - a KBR technician comes into the tent and assures us it will not last more than 45 minutes.

A handfull of troops have found wall plugs, although now unpowered, in which to connect their laptop computers while still more have the telltale white earbud speakers - a dead give away for an iPod. The level of electronic sophistication and access among even the most junior troops was unthinkable even 10 years ago.

Now keep in mind that once YOUR plane does not show, there is no function to automatically be "booked" (or what the military calls "space blocked") on another flight. You are forced to go "Space A" (space available) wherein you must repeatedly go back and forth to the air terminal each time a new flight may come in and hope there is space on that plane to let you go where you need to go. This process lasted FOUR days. We were finally able to get out to a base inside a base, called Phoenix Academy in Taji, about 30 miles north of Baghdad. Our ride was to be my first and only lift on a giant CH-47 Chinook helicopter. A visceral experience, the sound of a 47 is almost the same as the sound of a 50-cal machine gun - a constant, deep, powerful "thump-thump-thump-thump." The ramp at the aft of the helo stays open during flight, offerring up a 4th-of-July view as the pilot popped a set of four searing white phosphorous flares to potentially divert any heatseeking missiles at a critical point in the journey. (We were not fired on - don't worry mom!)
A CH47 Chinook, capable of landing 55 combat ready troops. (photo credit: Boeing)

Our flight arrived at Taji, which is also the logistics headquartes for the Iraqi Army. And the primary storage area for damaged and obsolete Iraqi Army equipment




Click on the video to see the field of obsolete Russian-made tanks from pre-invasion times.

Almost five days behind schedule, we made it back to Camp Victory on March 22nd.

*Award yourself 10 blog bonus points if you are not in the military AND remembered that "rotary wing" means helicopters