4 - Prologue: Shipped Out

We left Fairbanks on July 7.  After spending about 5 hours in the holding area at Fort Wainwright, they bused a half hour down the road to Eielson Air Force Base where we waited for another 3 hours before boarding our World Airlines MD-11.  It very well could have been the same airplane I took over last time, that's how similar the experience was.  During the 5 hours at Wainwright, we were given another round of shots (to go with the 10 or so we've had in the last 6 months), issued our weapons, counted, marked and loaded bags onto the semi-trucks, and made idle chatter with each other.  I mean, what do you say to someone who's just said goodbye to their wife or kids or both for the next 15 months?  I tried to keep to myself, not being much for small talk, but I couldn't stop shaking my head that we were headed out.  I honestly thought that it wouldn't happen.  My cynical attitude wasn't the greatest way to start.

Once airborne, we flew from Fairbanks to Colorado Springs to Maine to Germany to Kuwait City with about 3 hours at each layover.  We were bused from Kuwait City to Camp Buehring in northern Kuwait.  For our temporary stay, all 150+ of us were put into three big tents.  At the time we thought it'd be for about 7-10 days.  It turned out to be 30.

After staying in Kuwait for a month, I've learned that we humans can get used to pretty much everything.  Kuwait in July made the inside of the tents 90 degrees by 9 AM and triple digits by 10 AM.  Sleeping in was impossible, which made our night flight training a bit more difficult.  With over 55 guys in our tent, each person got a cot and a space to put his boots on either side.  Plus a row of cots ran down the middle of the tent for the unlucky SOB's that claimed their beds last.  Halfway through the stay, kangaroo rats decided to help us pick up the crumbs people had dropped and could be seen scurrying under cots at night .  Walking around in flip-flops was an at-your-own-risk event.  But like I said, I just got used to the suck of it and by the end, didn't really mind my lot.

Finally at the beginning of the month, we were allowed to come up north.  The unit we replaced (HMM-262 - Flying Tigers - OOH-RAH!), didn't really have a place for us to live or park our helos till August, so I can understand the delay.  On the flight up, Flight Engineer SSG Clay Sauer took his oath of re-enlistment standing on the ramp of helicopter as I read it to him over the intercom system just as we crossed the border into Iraq.  It's a ceremonious thing for those guys, to do the oath over the ICS while flying.  Some have done it just as the helicopter crossed over the top of Mount McKinley at over 20,000 feet with oxygen masks on.  It was an honor to be able to read it, especially for a guy like Clay.

Once here in TQ, we spent another week in 12-man huts before the Flying Tigers left for their home station in Okinawa, Japan.  No real complaints about that except I got the top bunk.  The top bunk is for the birds.  But since the second week in August, I've been released from purgatory of sleeping next people I don't call "hon" and have moved into a spacious, relaxing, temperate, and internet-equipped haven.  I have the 20'x10' bachelor pad all to myself, the perks of outranking all but about 5 people on our task force, though certainly not earning my single by any stretch of the imagination.  Yes, sir, I could definitely fight a war accommodated like this.