Sweet and Barren

"Such griefs with such men well agree,
But wherefore, wherefore fall on me ?
To be beloved is all I need,
And whom I love, I love indeed."
-Coleridge

I'm finally, finally, here. I cannot believe how like MASH it was getting to this hellhole; we basically thumbed a ride on whatever was moving in this general direction. I'm sure there's some bureaucratic excuse far up the chain, and I don't mean to malign my command, but it sure did seem like hitchhiking. Coincidentally, I've been listening to Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide on my iPod. It hadn't occurred to me until just now how amusing that is.

You people that think the hurricanes are done in the states, you're right: they all moved here. And they all hit my flimsy little tent last night as I tried to get some sleep while waiting for the next chopper, convoy, plane, hovercraft or zeppelin that could get me here. I've never heard such a racket from a storm. I guess it was because I was in that tent. It also dropped the temperature so low that combined with the AC, it made the tent into a meat locker. I have a horrible crick in my neck from trying to curl into a warmer position on that cot. It probably wasn't colder than 60 or so in there--it couldn't have been, it would be impossible--which just goes to show how quickly you get acclimated here. Hell, 60 back in the Tennessee would have been shorts and sandals weather. A few weeks in this oven and a Texas August seems chilly.

Jen should have my mailing address by now, so get it from her. I warn you not to send anything valuable at first, such as movies or Hope diamonds, until I confirm that the address actually works. I'll post when I get the first letter, and then mail away.

I see we're playing Baylor tomorrow. I wish I could feel like I wasn't missing anything not watching that game, but the way the last games have gone, we could play a high school team and manage to make it close. BTHO Baylor, guys. Don't let me down: it's all I've got right now.

By the way, I forgot to mention that ubiquitous Comedy Central mainstay Dave Atell came and did a show before I left Kuwait. He is a very funny guy, but I had no idea how vulgar his standup routines are. I guess I've only watched his show and never seen him do any of his standup before. Well, it was still good and I got a picture with him.

One last interesting observation: you know that, for better or worse, we are really on our way to a New World Order when you go to a Taco Bell (a "Mexican" restaurant), owned by PepsiCo (an American company), in Kuwait (an Arab nation) and your waiter is Chinese (a, um, Chinese guy). I really felt like black was white, up was down, and dogs and cats were going to start living together, sitting there eating my tacos. Also, he gave me my change in Pogs, which is a story for another time.

Djinn

"He whispered, 'And a river lies
Between the dusk and dawning skies,
And hours are distance, measured wide
Along that transnocturnal tide--
Too doomed to fear, lost to all need,
These voyagers blackward fast recede
Where darkness shines like dazzling light
Throughout the Twelve Hours of the Night.' "
-Ashbless, from The Twelve Hours of the Night.

We went to a range the other day and I saw a father dog playing with his tiny, jet-black puppy son. As we walked off to the firing line, he took the puppy back over to the mother dog, in the shade by the latrines, to nurse. Seeing the little black dog reminded me of Jason, and it killed me. I don't know why missing my dog is so painful.

There was a dust storm that blew up while we were trying to zero our rifles. I never thought so much sand could get up in weird places in a weapon. Three days later, I'm still cleaning grit out of my bolt and carrier and charging handle. The djinn obviously want to annoy the hell out of me, and I will be more than happy to leave them behind when the time comes.

I feel like time has no meaning here. I lose whole days, and wake up one morning and find out that another hurricane is hitting in the exact same place. That crazy woman is totally embarrassing herself and dishonoring her fallen hero son by making a spectacle of herself again. That condescending earth-mother bitch Barbra Streisand is ranting about global warming again. It's like I've entered a time warp that detours through a kiln.

I really appreciate hearing from all of you, especially family that I've not spoken with in a long time. It means a lot to me, to know that you are back there thinking about and praying for my soldiers. They are filthy and vulgar and complain all the time, and I can't imagine there is a finer group of Americans anywhere. They deserve your prayers and praise. I am supremely humbled to serve them, and I am always kind of in awe of their work ethic and grit. I just desperately want to bring them all home.

Those of you very close to me know that my time here is short. We're rolling north very soon. Keep my comrades in your prayers, and don't worry. I'll keep one eye on my six.

Cots

"When did you become so obsessed with voting, Professor?"
"The very instant I become old!"
-Futurama

I hear the Afghanistan elections went well. I'm glad. They seem to be doing very well for themselves since we liberated them a few years ago. I can still remember shocked-looking CNN reporters standing in the middle of soccer stadiums, describing how many thousands of public executions were held in them. The reporters are back to being jaded and cynical, but Afghanistan is back on track to being a decent place. Although if it's as hot there as it is here, the first thing I'd use my freedom for would be moving to Texas, where it may be hot, but at least you have to use a stove to fry an egg.

I'm also pleased with the German elections. It's about time an elected official paid for being an appeaser. I'm hoping this new lady will be a lot more helpful to us as we pursue the wolves worldwide. She seems pretty squared away.

I was watching Monday Night Football at breakfast yesterday morning, and saw that Saints receiver toss the ball out of bounds right before he got across the goal line. It was the weirdest thing I've ever seen in football--he had the ball firmly caught and tucked, but then just kind of threw it away, the way you would set a volleyball. He didn't even have the sense to stay down and pretend he was hurt. Don't know what that guy was thinking, but then, I prefer college ball. Glad we won our game last weekend. I wish I could see them here.

I was right about it being impossible to get in here now that all of us have arrived. I think I may not get regular phone or internet access until we settle into our AO up north. There's just too many soldiers here now.

Now that everybody else is here, I can't wait to go North. They've only been here a day, and there are already mice and beetles crawling all around the tent because people leave snacky food lying around. Also, some idiot plugged in a cell phone or laptop using the wrong adapter and blew one whole wall of the tent, so I can't charge my iPod or use my computer unless I go across to the other wall. The latrines and showers are filthy and there are lines everywhere--the PX, the DFAC, even in here, although I seem to have caught it at a low point today.

I fell asleep listening to A Brief History of Time last night. I think that one of metaphysics' biggest problems is that they cannot at this point comprehend a finite universe. They also cannot seem to reconcile an infinite universe with the existence of God.

I have a meeting in an hour. I'll try to call home tonight, but I can't make promises. Love you to all.

Sand

"And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal..."
-Byron

We have locals here who do lots of the menial jobs around the camp. They take our laundry and cook our food. They also clean the showers. I only mention this because I happened to be in there this morning when a man came in to clean. I'm used to seeing janitors in the States use cleaning sprays and wipe things down. These guys just throw buckets of bleach and disinfectant everywhere, hose down the room, and leave. I just found it amusing; but as I contemplated on how filthy some of my comrades are, I realized I wasn't surprised.

Whenever I blow my nose, here, blood comes out. The vets tell me it's because of how fine the sand is--when you breathe, it acts like sandpaper against the inside of your nose. This place is about as hospitable as the surface of the moon. Except for the heat and breathable atmosphere, this place could probably pass for it.

I don't have much to do in the evenings, and I can't read for too long here or I'll fall asleep (still not totally caught up on jet lag), so I have been playing Final Fantasy 3 on a Super Nintendo emulator I have on my laptop. I forgot how fun that game was. I miss those old video games. I liked how you didn't have to spend millions of dollars on graphics or a new engine, but you could still produce a quality game with a good storyline. I also have Mario Kart, so I've been tearing it up on that.

Jen has been doing some stuff with the house, like painting and getting some frosty paper (if that is the right phrase) for the front door windows. She sounds pretty excited about it. I am already looking forward to seeing the house when I get home.

The rest of the division is arriving shortly, and so it will become very difficult to get a free computer here, or a free phone over in the phone center. I may not get to post for a few weeks after this. My job will also get a lot busier. I'm both dreading and looking forward to this.

Thanks for your emails, everyone. They mean a lot to me. I'm thinking about all of you as well. Have a burrito and some barbecue for me.

Hope on a Chain

"She can pull the sunlight thru me..."
-Miami, Counting Crows

Today was kind of bad for me, as far as missing home and stuff. I still have really bad jet lag, so I have lots of time to lie awake thinking about Jen, and Jason, and my family. I really miss Jen very much. I can't even listen to my damn iPod because a song will come on that reminds me of her. "Next Year" by Foo Fighters and "She Don't Want Nobody Near" by Counting Crows particularly. That refrain in the Crows song: "I'm all right...I just can't get home tonight" kills me.

I have noticed a peculiar thing about missing home and being lonely: after awhile, it leads to a cold, brutal rage. I wouldn't even have to leave home, and barbecue, and my dog, I think, if some stupid bastards would just stop killing everybody who was different than them. I understand having values and morals, but there's a difference between looking down your nose at a scandalous woman or a cultural traitor...and KILLING them. And I'm not just angry at terrorists...I can't help but be annoyed a little at the people we've liberated. Why can't these people get their act together and conduct their OWN righteous rebellions? Tyrants are never as powerful as people think--look at Coucaescou (sp?!). Why can't people stand up for themselves? If you see your daughter oppressed because she's a woman, or your cousin persecuted because he's in a different sect of your religion, and you do nothing about it, what kind of man are you?

This is the same problem I have with people who think Bush "stole" either of the two elections he won. If you really thought that...what the hell are you doing not starting a revolution?

On the other hand, maybe they are so apathetic, even about their own lives, that they just don't care if they're oppressed or manipulated. That could never be me.

I guess this is what happens when you're away. You get lonely, and it leads to anger. I am good at controlling anger, but I still miss my family very much. I miss hot and cold running cable TV and having my own shower attached to my living space. I miss Jack Daniel's very much.

And Freebirds. Holy Mother, how I want a burrito so bad. Jennifer gets hers with chicken and cheese and rice and lettuce, and I think sometimes whole beans. I get mine with steak, cheese and rice, whole beans, hot and BBQ sauce, sour cream and lettuce and sometimes jalapenos.

They should open a store here.

Heat

"I love you. I love you. I love you. I'm praying for you. Stay safe and shoot to kill."
-letter from my wife

I finally got to make contact with the world yesterday. Checked the email and the news. I IMd Jennifer and then saw the phone center and called her. Apparently my dog chewed a hole in the carpet. I'm gone less than 48 hours and he starts tearing up the place.

Imagine your wife or girlfriend is blow-drying her hair and you make a joke at her expense, or walk by and goose her, and to retalitate she turns around and waves the blow-dryer in your face for a few seconds. A blast of superheated air shoots into your mouth, nose, and eyes.

That's what it's like here in the daytime. It's better at night, but you still sweat. I'm amazed that people live here. I'm amazed that thousands of people call this home. There's no vegetation, no clouds, no shade. Just sand, wind, and the sun, which seems to be about two feet above your head.

Thanks to everyone who sent me email. I am doing fine and when I get to a place where I don't have to pay for internet access by the minute I'll have time to leisurely peruse all of your missives. All of you back home are in my thoughts and prayers.

Arrival

"I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crossed the bar."
-Tennyson

Well, here we are in God's country. Or something.

The flight was horrible. It's the middle of the night and 100 degrees.

Gotta go eat breakfast and go to sleep. More later.

Anguish

"Welcome to the Soldier Side
There is no one here but me..."
-System of a Down

I was right.

This is unadulterated torment. Nobody should have to feel this way.

I'll see you on the other side.

Packing

“He heard the last shriek of the perishing souls –
'See! See! o’er the topmast the mad water rolls!'
Right glad was the Raven, and off he went fleet,
And Death riding home on a cloud he did meet"
-Coleridge, The Raven

Packed all my bags today. Didn't realize it was possible to fit that much crap in that little space. I pride myself on being good at packing, but I amazed even myself this morning. I have a lot of stuff shipping over in my tuff box, obviously--my XBOX and a RISK boardgame, most importantly--but I realized last week that I neglected to pack any books.

So I went through my bookcases and found a few to take with me.

The Once and Future King. Kind of preachy and proto-hippie, and therefore annoying, but still a very good story, especially Book I. Plus I love all things Arthurian (due in no small part to my fanatical devotion to the works of Tim Powers) and I also love that Disney movie, The Sword in the Stone, which is based on Book I.

The Brothers Karamazov. I started this about three times in college but never got around to finishing it. Hopefully I will this time.

Guardians of Empire. A pretty good military history book written by the man I self-flatteringly call my mentor, Dr. Brian Linn. This book, too, I've read most of but never finished.

I thought about taking some of my Tim Powers stuff, but the ones I really want to read again are far too valuable to take. My copies of Stress of Her Regard and Dinner at Devian'ts Palace are both autographed by Power; and I can't find Anubis Gates anywhere. Oh yes, and my Dad borrowed Declare. He said he's sending it back to Jen. I think I'll have her mail it to me when she gets it.

I put together my new flak jacket today, too, which was difficult for me for some reason. I can't seem to find my other velcro rank, but I figured it won't matter much since I'm getting promoted in a couple weeks anyway.

If you asked me my mindset right now, I think the most accurate word would be "ready." I'm sure there are more eloquent or symbolic words, but dammit, I'm just ready. I want to get on the plane. I want to get there. I want to get this underway. The preparations for this thing have just dragged on and on, and I am ready for it to start.

There exists within me a peculiar dichotomy that I've noticed always precedes a move to a new post or school. I miss my wife, already, so much that I want to die. At the same time, I am extremely anxious to just get on the road, so the wait will be over.

More tomorrow, and even I am wondering what I will vomit out on the keyboard then: my last twenty-four hours in The World. How will I feel?

I also wonder, and worry, not just for myself but for my wife and family...is this the last time I will be Me? Is this the last day I'll be the son my mother raised, or the husband my wife married? Is this the last day I'll be the dude my puppy loves to play with?

I don't care what the media says. This is a (to quote from Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey) "fully, full-on" war. Will it change me? Will the myself of right now recognize the myself of a year from now?

Turn the record over to find out.

Preparation

"All your better deeds
Shall be in water writ..."

Smallpox. Anthrax. Twinrix. Sometimes it seems like, by the shots they give me, they expect me to go to a disco for lepers, or to do calisthenics in a poorly-ventilated disease ward. Suffice it to say, I got a lot of shots. Apparently I'm getting more when I get to Kuwait. Hoo-zah.

I've been making my final farewells to my friends. There are some of them, I know, that will continue to write to me and keep in touch. There are others--and these are the ones who never call me; I always call them--with whom I will not communicate until next fall. The former expect to hear from me shortly, and say things like "email me when you get settled." The latter say things like "we'll talk to you in a year," and I am disappointed with them when they don't ask if I'll have an email address.

I've got an iPod, a digital camera, a laptop and an XBOX with the DVD player adapter. I'm also planning on finishing my book while I'm in country. I grow alternately weary and excited about it; it's a typical self-absorbed, passionate, semi-autobiographical debacle that I am afraid is what every author produces as his first work. I want to finish it, but really just to get it out of the way, so I can concentrate on more satisfying fare. I'm about to spend a year in the land of the djinn, in the cradle of civilization. A year in Babylon.

If I can't be inspired there, then I wasn't meant to write.

On the other hand, I would rather never develop literarily than shirk my mission. First things first: keep the wolves occupied in the forest, so they don't come into the yard. Support my customers. Keep those guns shooting.

Then worry about your prissy writing.

Across the Bar

Sunset, and Evening Star,
And one clear call for me.
And may there be no moaning of the bar
When I put out to sea.
-Tennyson


We're leaving soon. Because of Operational Security, I don't want to say exactly when, but we'll be in country before too long. This will be my first deployment to a war zone, and hopefully this will serve to help my family and friends keep up with me. Part chronicle, part journal.

I don't have many goals or ambitions for the next year. I only hope I don't let my soldiers down. I only hope I don't let my battalion down. I don't care about a good report card; but these people are far too fine, and I am far too proud to serve with them, for me to fail them. I will nurture and support their mission. I will eat, sleep, and breathe their mission. I will not fail them.

I am going to go, now, and spend my last weekend with my wife, my dog and my cat. And my home.