My kids

I'm finding it hard to think of my children now. I feel guilty for coming here most of the time when I think of them. I try not to think of what they must be feeling with their daddy gone. They know I'm coming back but what will this really do to them? When I left, I kept telling myself, "Kids are resilient, they won't even know I've been gone when I get home". I'm starting to wonder now. It may just be guilt but I just can't help feeling that they think I've left them. My daughter understands because she's older. She is helping her mother and feeding the new dog they got. She has even raised her grades in two classes since I've been here. She's a good girl and this will help us grow. I dearly miss riding the motorcycle with her. It was our thing and it was something she loved. When I get home, she knows I'll buy a new one and we'll ride but when I think of not riding now, it hurts. I hope she doesn't hold this against me.

My son on the other hand, is very young. He knows his daddy is in the 'far away place'. He doesn't know why. He wonders constantly where I am and he wonders if I'm coming home soon. It kills me inside thinking that he thinks his daddy is gone. He is young enough however to not even remember my being gone but, what are the long term effects? Sometimes it feels like some sick experiement or a game show. "Let's see how long he can last without his family folks and in a foriegn country no less. This should be exciting!!" I can here Bob Hueghbanks voice when I think of it. My son will love me more when I get home. If I don't tell myself that, I won't make it. When I think of my own father being away on midnight shift, I remember feeling like my mother and myself were alone. I would even be scared sometimes. I don't ever want my children to feel that way. I want them to be proud of me and what I'm doing here to help bring change to this country.

There is one good thing I got from this trip when it pertains to my kids. My wife and I laughed before I left when we talked about my daughters first date. I told her that as soon as I got here, I was going to have my picture taken with my gear and weapons on and on my daughters first date, we would put that picture on the coffee table and the kid would say "Who is that?" and my daughter would say. "Oh, that's my dad when he was in Iraq." and he'd be like "OH.....okay". It plants that seed. Even if I'm not fighting here, the seed would be planted. I sent the picture home and my wife is going to hang it up now. I hope I don't get a chance to use my weapons but if it means the difference between seeing my two beautiful children again........well, let's just say, there wouldn't be much in the way of deciding.

The Chess Game...

I used to play chess with my uncle 'Peach' in the summer when I was a child. He lived right down the street. He worked nights so he'd always be out on the front porch in the afternoon. I was raised in a pretty strict household. I appreciate it now that I'm older that my parents had enough respect for me and for themselves to raise me with moral values. It wasn't that my uncle had no morals but he leaned a little more to the left than most anyone I met when I was young. He believed there were UFOs and Bigfoots and that anything was possible in the physical universe. We'd talk about anything and anything I could think of, he'd almost accept as plausible. When I was ten, he started teaching me how to play chess. Once I learned the ins and outs of the game, I was hooked. So many possibilities, so many pieces. It made me feel smarter as a child just to play such a sofisticated game. He'd win most times but never without a lesson. He'd wear cargo shorts and socks and slippers. I loved my uncle.

Well, fast forward 20 years and I'm in Iraq as a man. I've been here for a month and I've only seen guys playing backgammon. I didn't bring a chess set because I brought like, one of everything else. Tonight, I saw one of the cooks carrying a case that could either be checkers or chess. I ignored the urge and just watched. Two cooks walked over to a picnic (iraqi style) table and opened the case. My heart jumped when I saw those pieces coming out of the box. Knights, Queens, Rooks, oh.........It was like an alchoholic trying to walk through a crowded bar filled with free drinks. I tried to maintain until they finished their game. I did. I went to get my evening coffee and there the set sat. My RUSSIAN bodyguard was with me and I couldn't resist anymore. "America vs. Russian?" I said and raising my eyebrows towards the chess set sitting idle in the kitchen. I might as well said I'd give one of my kids away. The russian had the pieces and set out and going in a matter of seconds. I'm going to play a real Russsian in chess I thought. My uncle would have passed out. He died of cancer two years ago and I still love him like he was watching me tonight.

I was white so I made the first move. He moved and I moved......we battled on a kitchen floor model freezer in the middle of the desert in Iraq and it was great!!! We took pieces from each other and in the end........A DRAW!!! I was happy. My first Russian opponent and it ended in a draw. My Uncle Peach would have cried.. Next, the chief cook. Iraqi. Oh he couldn't wait. He gave commentary on the previous match and now it was his turn to play his first American..

It was a great battle. Almost an hour. He soundly defeated me. That's the way the game is though. When it was done, their was one proud Iraqi, one proud Russian and one very satisfied American.........Life really is strange......in a good way....

The Boy

There is a boy in my camp. He's been here since I got here. He works in the kitchen. He's 15 years old. The thing about this boy is that he isn't some hardened third world child that doesn't think like a child. He does. You can see the wonder in his eyes when he sees something new. He cries at the drop of a hat and pouts. He's just like any other kid his age. The only difference is is that he is surrounded by men. In a camp 300 miles from nowhere and earning a real living. His parents are gone. The camp calls him the baby. We're all raising him. He hears cursing and sees man stuff but everyone in camp tries to teach him and take care of him because of his age.

I watched him today. He was standing next to a soldier that he obviously admired. You could watch him thinking of how he could mimick this man because he made some impression on him. I wonder what this experience will do for him or to him in ten years. Will he take the fatherly advice that we give him or will he go the way of the criminals that also reside here? Only time will tell. I asked at one time when he took a short vacation, where does he go. 'Family', they told me. No parents.....maybe aunts or uncles....Grandma? I don't like to think about it. Are they abusive? Do we take better care of him here? He is definetly safer here. When these guys go home, they have to take great measures not to be caught working for the 'wrong' side. Taxis into other towns and doubling back. Hitchhiking. I don't like to even imagine what this child must do just to get from point A to Point B. He does it on his own. God bless him.

The one thing I do know about this boy is that he will be stronger and wiser than most of his American counterparts. It makes you wonder; is Playstation really the answer to creating productive, strong members of American society? Maybe working in the middle of the desert for a year isn't the answer but, maybe, just maybe, if we show our own children the value of hard work and stop protecting them from the unknown, they may also grow to be strong and wise. ?????????

Feelings......

When I saw my wife for the first time, I loved her. Her hair was colored but natural looking. She was small but not weak looking. She carried herself well and that sort of frightened me to a certain extent. High maintenance.....you know.. I stalked her for some time at the video store where she worked. Oh, I could have shopped for videos all day. I didn't want to seem like a weirdo though. I just couldn't get enough of that face. I would listen intently at everything she would say even if it was just "Hey Frank, do we have the widescreen version of Dumbo in?" Ahhhhh sweet music to me!!!!

On one of my recon missions to the video store on night, I was in the foreign film section looking at a Spanish movie about a blind man......I don't know...but, it gave me a good vantage point. I heard my wife talking about _____ her daughter. Daughter?!! Wow, I didn't know. At that point though, I knew I had matured somehow. When I drove home that night, I thought to myself, I'd raise ten of her kids and ten of our own. I wouldn't care as long as each morning when I got up, I'd see her face. I just didn't care what it involved.

I finally rousted my courage and asked a woman at the register what the deal was with her. She said " Oh my, she'd love to meet someone! I'll put your name in her computer and tell her that the next time you come in, she can meet you!!!" Rather a stange approach.....but,,,I didn't care. So, there I was, GO TIME. I knew the next time I went in, the woman would see me and have my future wife wait on me so she could meet me. I spent around 2 hours choosing the right clothing. My roommate was like......."Dude, untucked is fine just go.....your fine.....okay....yes those jeans are good Jesus just go!"

My wife had gotten the message that a strange man wanted to meet her. She had actually been stalked before while working at the video store so she was pretty apprehensive about the whole thing. I drove down to the store and my mouth was so dry it just made a clicking sound when I practiced what I would say when I finally met her. I went in the store and God knows what video I choose but it took upwards of an hour. I watched her watching and working and I wondered just how she would size me up when I finally met her. I got the courage and just went up. The woman I had spoken to saw me coming and mysteriously got the ebola virus and had to rush from her register leaving the woman I would spend the rest of my life with alone there.

I approached and handed her the movie and my card and this is weird but I still remember our hands touching when I gave her the card. She scanned the card......looked up at me....looked down again.....and then again, up at me.....perplexed like....I was like 'Oh God she hates me and I haven't even said a word yet!'. Then, in a excited voice blurted rather loudly, " You're _____?"
I said yes and that was it!!! She expected the Elephant Man but it was just me. She smiled and I smiled and we started talking like we were raised together!! I can't even remember the drive home. I think I was thinking of how I could impress her daughter of 1 year. She's my baby now. She's daddy's girl......just like the movies..

That was ten years ago and I'm in Iraq now. I expected so much pain when I left and some came in the airport but, once I got here.....nothing.. It wasn't from not caring though. It was an emotion that I had never experienced before. On the second night in the desert, I realized what it was. I had never left. The distance wasn't Kryptonite.....crushing me.....it was an affirmation that the girl I had met so long ago was ALWAYS GOING TO BE THERE!! I haven't felt a distance between us because we're still together. All I have to do is close my eyes...........

Smoking in the Boys Tent......

Well, I just had one of those experiences again. I run the camp so the men here all call me 'Mr.' There is separation between me and them. I have my own living quarters with my two bodyguards. My own shower. Stuff like that. I like to mix in with the men and see what they do but they are often apprehensive because......I'm Mr.. I never think of myself as better than any other man in camp but they are very respectful of me because I'm who I am. Anyway.

I was standing in our kitchen around 11:00p.m. getting my coffee ready for letter writing time. There was one cook with me and one of my bodyguards. My PSD is very friendly and as open minded as I am about the people and the country. Anyway, we're standing there waiting for the water to heat and a baker man comes in with what looked to be a small piece of charcoal in between tongs he was carrying it in. I joked with him and said " Oh.....Hashish!!!" and pointed an accusing finger and laughed. He immediately insisted "No, no hashish Mr.!!" I laughed an acknowledging laugh and then we watched as the cook turned on one of our large stoves and put this 'charcoal' thing right into the fire.

This really peaked ***** and my interest. We went and looked at it and then they started trying to explain what it was. I don't always have my interpreter but I get along with a little Arabic, a lot of sign language and a little English. ***** and me had always seen pictures of the men smoking water pipes but as of yet, hadn't smoked ourselves. The men said " Come Mr. to tent come....." I rarely go into the living quarter tents of the men because I let them live their own lives there. When I do go in, it's usually to complain about the camp being a mess or some other infraction of rules. Tonight, we walked in as guests!! The men were visibly nervous when ***** and I walked in the tent but I raised my hand when they began to get up and clean up and said "No, no....Okay....Okay". We were led to a water pipe that sat between two bunkbeds with maybe 15 men surrounding it. We were given seats on the lower bunk facing each other with maybe six feet between us. They were very excited when they realized we were here to see what this smoking was all about. All the men gathered around and watched as if I were about to set myself on fire or something.

The water pipe itself was about 1 foot high with ornate gold and blue inscriptions and a long green hose of maybe 4 feet. The tent smelled of apple and cigarettes. Apparently, it's apple flavored tobacco that we're smoking with a sort of starter block on top. Hard to explain. 'Blackhawk down' played on an old t.v. dvd set in the back of the tent and the whole place seemed to be alive with talking smoking laughing..etc.... The men's excitement mounted as the man next to me explained how to smoke and then handed me the brass end of the hose. I looked over at my PSD and we just gave each other that shoulder shrug like 'When in Rome....?" I smoke but I wasn't sure if I was to inhale this smoke or just puff like a cigar. I inhaled and everyone looked around in great satisfaction. I handed the hose to ***** my PSD and he too smoked. The tent was jubilant!!!!
We passed and passed and laughed and they showed us some music videos from Egypt.

It made me laugh when I looked up and all but about 3 men in camp were standing and looking over shoulders like ' Look!!! Mr. is smoking!!!' Again, I said to myself, how could I have imagined this scene even two months ago??!! It was like something out of a book or a movie!!!! I have a feeling that ****** and myself will be the talk of the camp tommorow!!!! Good Smoke!!

Satellite......

Hello all. When I first arrived here, I marveled at the night sky and how many stars and shooting stars you could see. My Ukrainian P.S.D. (personal security detail) bodyguard mentioned that he had seen a satelite. I remembered back in the States, that I had heard on the radio, a story about viewing the International Space Station. I looked up the site and found the nearest city. NASAs website tells you exactly when and where to look for the space station according to where you live.

When I did it at home, we all went out on the back deck and watched and exactly at the given time and exactly in that direction.....POP. there it came!! We watched it cross the evening sky above us and we all marveled at the technology that was above us and also the mathematics and technology that allowed us to view it at the correct time.

Anyway, I told my Ukrainian friend about this so when he started his early morning shift, I left him a note to wake me at 5:30a.m. because the viewing from baghdad was supposed to occur exactly at 5:58a.m. . We went out around quarter till 6 and I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The MILKY WAY!!!!! I mean aside from the satelite thing, I could see what seemed to be every star in the Universe!! I was astounded. I have always wanted to see a night sky like that because I've heard so many others talk about how amazing it was. Now I"M one of those people!

So my friend and I counted down the minutes till the viewing.....pointing out different stars and talking in the dark.. It's moments like this that I came here for. Talking to a guy from halfway across the world in the middle of a desert in a wartorn country about a combined effort satelite that we were about to see. Life is incredible. At 5:58a.m. we both scanned the night sky and then ***** said "Oh!!!!! LOOK!" and there it was, just like before. We stood in silence and watched it go over...... Life is Good..

DAYS FLY BY!!!

Well, it's been a while, I know but, I've been busy getting this camp together. Really, not much happens here but, in this country, nothing is a good thing!!!! I love getting e-mails. It's good to know that people are thinking of me and I love to send pictures. Speaking of which, I've tried to put pics on this site using the Hello program but, when I go to transfer the pics, I get an error message. I must fix that in my computer.

Okay, anyway. The first thing I must write about is the weather this morning. Every day here has been cool and comfortable but dry with no clouds in sight. This morning however, I walked outside and behold.......rain!!!!! I didn't get to really feel the rain, but, the sky was full of clouds and the rain that had occured here seems to have flattened out the bumpy terrain here in camp. A sort of a.....cleaning effect. Very nice!! I have taken pictures of the clouds because I don't know when I'll see them again!!

I have all but stopped taking Advil everyday. For the first 5 or 6 days, I was dizzy all the time and disoriented. My head ached and my throat hurt. This morning, I feel as if I were born in this country. Last night, I dreamed here for the first time. It is a good sign dreaming. It means deep sleep and to me that is a sign that my body and mind are settling in.

We have had two pretty good sand/dust storms here in the last week. The first lasted 2 days and had the whole camp pretty down for a while. I wore my goggles and a rag to do even the most menial of tasks and our kitchen staff had to keep all doors closed. They did not like that. The second occurred just after dinner the other night. When we went in the tent for dinner, clear skies and decent. When we came out, it looked as though a thin haze of water vapor stood in the air. Eerie looking....ominous.... This dust/dirt was of a different sort compared to the first. The first storm produced large dust particles that were almost painful when they hit your face. The second was very, very fine. You could feel the dust entering your nose and mouth and lungs. Immediatly, you would begin to have coughing fits from it. That lasted through the night and brought with it, strong winds that blew debris everywhere. In the morning, it was nice again and we all cleaned up.

I'm beginning to really get to know the Iraqi guys in camp now. When I take my camera out into the camp, you would think I was throwing gold coins to them!!! A lightbulb went off in my head and I took very careful, thoughtful pictures of each of them. They were so appreciative!!! Oh, they loved looking at the pictures!! That is when they began to let me get closer to them and I was glad.

I have spent the past two evenings sitting in our kitchen surrounded by my new Iraqi friends......laughing....sharing Chigaras.....trading stories.....very good times.
I never considered it before because I am so curious to know how they lived and worked and things that they too want to know about my life. We talk about which people live in the city and the country. They tell me about the war with Iran and how many people fought. They tell me about the Saddam days and what daily life was like under his rule. Oh... that reminds me of a common misnomer that I think many American have about Iraqi people. I must explain this correctly though so as to not offend. The people I have met here are not proud of Saddam but, they are proud of the time that he ruled Iraq. Iraq was a great country some time ago and they are proud of that fact. The relationship between the leader and the country are seperate.

I must go now. I'm going to try to write more this evening because there have been some neat events in the missed time. Be safe everyone....