Moments

I’ve said this before, but one thing that occasionally happens around here are moments present themselves that are rare and unique—moments that I will never forget for as long as I live and imprint themselves on my heart, never to be erased.

Last night I witnessed two of those moments.

The O’Club here had a New Year’s Eve party. The parties they’ve had in the last few months have been nice, but they really outdid themselves this time. The guards at the gate came in to ask the manager why there were so many people there, as they had run out of visitor badges and were having to turn people away. Approaching midnight the bagpiper from Christmas Eve climbed up onto the bar to overlook the crowd. They rang the bell that is customary when they want silence in the club for whatever reason and the player addressed us solemnly. “New Year’s Eve is a traditional day to gather with friends and celebrate the oncoming New Year. It is also a time to remember the past. Before we celebrate in a few moments, we should remember our brothers who have fallen this year.” You could hear a pin drop. He then went into a rendition of “Amazing Grace” like none I’ve heard before. I bowed my head and tears filled my eyes as he played the most beautiful hymn in honor of those who were unable to celebrate with their loved ones this year.

Shortly thereafter the bar staff began handing out champagne in plastic cups to the crowd. Corks were flying everywhere as they rushed to beat the clock. Two of my friends from the night shift, Santini and Michelle, couldn’t take the night off and had to go to work an hour earlier. As the crowd started to get ready, the four of us who were able to be there--myself, Magnum, Karen, and Allison--grabbed an extra two cups of champagne and wandered out of the bar and over to the CAOC with our noisemakers and hats.

In the front of the big, dark, room that I had arrived bleary-eyed almost four months ago there is a giant red digital clock that keeps the time for the guys controlling all of the massive airpower fighting this war. We all joined under those enormous TV screens for what may be the last time as the original night shift and watched as the clock went from 23:59 to 00:00. The Combat Operations floor (all twenty of us) erupted in cheers, and we blew our noisemakers and hugged each other. It was, to the outside observer, probably pretty sad to see. But to me, with those friends that have been unlike many others I have known, who I have become closer to than many of the boys I sweated and died with in college, pilot training, or any squadron, it was a priceless memory that will never be forgotten.

Short of being at the foot of my children’s bed with my hands on Emily’s belly there was nowhere in the world that I would rather have been to ring in the New Year.

Make All Things New

Another year.

This year I resolve not to resolve anything, but to actually do them. I guess my list of things to do when I get home will suffice.

They’re throwing the base a huge “end of rotation” / New Year’s Eve party on the compound today. No it’s not First Night, but it will do.

I have a great deal to be thankful for—this has been a hell of a year. By the end of 2006 I pray that I have another child in my arms, a better feeling of myself and my place in the world, better health for myself and continued health for my family. There is a strong possibility that next New Year’s Eve I will be beginning the early stages of preparation to come back here, also. I guess we’ll see.

I Am the New Year

I am the New Year. I am an unspoiled page in your book of time.

I am your next chance at the art of living. I am your opportunity to practice what you have learned about life during the last twelve months.

All that you sought and didn’t find is hidden in me, waiting for you to search it but with more determination.

All the good that you tried for and didn’t achieve is mine to grant when you have fewer conflicting desires.

All that you dreamed but didn’t dare to do, all that you hoped but did not will, all the faith you claimed but did not have—these slumber lightly, waiting to be awakened by the touch of strong purpose.

I am your opportunity to renew your allegiance to Him who said, “Behold, I make all things new.”

-- Bible Illustrator

May He that makes all things new bless you and keep you and yours this year.

As always, from the desert, Happy New Year.

It's Getting Crowded Around Here

Seats on the bus are getting hard to come by.

The replacements have started showing up, and will be trickling in over the next month at a steady rate as we start flowing in the opposite direction. It’s a pretty exciting time, though it can be frustrating. The entire is base is beginning to bustle with activity, and you can definitely see the difference in attitudes between those who are just arriving and those that are getting ready to go home. Those just getting here are all kinds of motivated—the gym is packed more than usual, the track has twice the number of people on it, and everyone seems to be in a good, if apprehensive, mood. And those of us leaving are equally motivated if for other reasons—the knowledge that soon we will be headed home.

The frustration I feel from the inconvenience of having to wait an extra ten minutes in the chow line is offset by the awareness that somewhere in this cast of thousands an officer is going to arrive to replace me, enabling me to go back to a little boy who grows sadder each day that he wakes up expecting me to be there.

My Top Ten

Since the trend among blogs at year’s end has been to make “top lists,” I figured I would make one of my own—what I plan on doing different when I get home:

1. Make Breakfast. We have been lucky enough to have a wonderful hot breakfast every morning here, and although I occasionally get noxious now at the sight of eggs, it is something in our lives at home that simply doesn’t exist.

2. Reduce the Load. Being away from home and all of my material possessions has demonstrated one thing to me—I really don’t miss anything. That having been said I plan on making some big trips to church to drop off a lot of stuff I don’t need.

3. Build a Wild Playset. I promised mcgdo before I left. Maybe she’ll let me coast until it warms up a bit.

4. Walk With the Kids. I spend a lot of time with my kids. But most of it is spent watching TV or putzing around. mcgdo’s going to learn how to ride her new bike and we’re going to do more stuff outside.

5. Help Around the House More. I do, actually, already do this—but Emily has worked hard enough for one pregnancy.

6. Keep Blogging. With this I really don’t know what direction I’ll go in. One thing I do know is that starting this blog was one of the best things I’ve done for myself psychologically, emotionally, and creatively in a long time. As I’ve said, my job at work isn’t the most taxing thing I’ve ever done so I imagine I’ll be able to come up with stuff while I’m there. I definitely need to find a designer to spruce the place up with some layouts, though.

7. Start Flying. I’ve already started taking steps towards this, but I haven’t been behind the controls in over a year. Time to go back.

8. Buy a DVR. One thing I have gotten here is that I finally found quality TV again. Or at least TV I like. The catch is that I don’t have a desire to schedule my life around it, nor do I feel like sitting in front of the TV all day.

9. Go Somewhere, Anywhere, Once a Month. We’ll start off small. But we are going to start going places and doing things. We’ve been so busy with our lives that we haven’t really been living.

10. Manage My Time. I’ve gotten pretty good at this here, although it may be due to my schedule not being as hectic as it is at home. What I have lost from being here are a lot of things that were priorities at home that are essentially meaningless to me now. I have no desire to stay at work late for whatever reason. I have no desire to stay online for the first hours of the day. All I really want to do right now is hold my kids.

The Boys

Got to talk to Sammy tonight for a little while. He’s pretty upset. We had told he and his sister that Daddy was going to be home after Christmas—mainly as a way to take his mind off of it and to let him focus on something else. Unfortunately, he wasn’t focusing so much on Christmas than he was on the fact that Daddy was going to be home the very next day (which I won’t be for another couple of weeks). I couldn’t even get him to tell me about the Harley motorcycle (big wheel) that he got from Santa that’s just like mine. I think it was a combination of being sad and pissed off.

I haven’t said much about Odie lately. Apparently he’s a pretty active kid, since he moves and kicks more than his other two siblings combined. Poor Emily hasn’t done any shopping or anything for him since she’s waiting for me to get home to help her. We’re planning on rearranging the house a bit to accommodate for the little one—I’m just not sure how or what we’re going to do. We’ve settled on a few finalists for his name: Jacob, Daniel, and Max. My vote is to have John be his middle name, since the other two have names based on family history (my Dad’s name is John).

It definitely turned to winter here—temperature dropped about 15 degrees in the past couple of days. Guess I got spoiled with the 77 degrees on Christmas Day.

Cold Front

A cold front came through today, bringing with it some pretty high winds. Since the consistency of the sand here is like talcum powder, the winds carry it pretty well—so a constant haze is over everything. Within seconds of walking outside your mouth is filled with grit, and your eyes start to burn. Pleasant. I’ve been sick recently with a head cold so that makes it all the more comfortable.

I tried to call the kiddos last night as they were opening their gifts from Santa but the lines were so clogged that I couldn’t get through after an hour of dialing. Finally got Emily at the normal time that I call her, at around 2230 at night their time.

A little over two weeks left to go. In the home stretch.

Bagpiper

The mood was what I expected last night—kind of a reserved festive atmosphere. I got dressed up for the first time since I’ve gotten here and went to mass at 1800, rather than midnight, since I still had to be here this morning at 0500. I grabbed Magnum from his Christmas play (he played Joseph in the service), donned my Santa hat, and we headed to the O’Club for the party.

I guess everyone else had the same idea, since pretty much everyone had the ol’ Santa hat on. They had brought out the full spread of shwarma’s and other Qatari cuisine, so dinner was taken care of. We threw darts, had our three drinks—what I would call a pretty typical night at the club. Until the bagpiper got there.

At around 2245 or so a noise blared through the tent. The conversations stopped as everyone was caught in what I could only describe as awe as a guy playing bagpipes strode into the bar. We had a bagpipe corps (about 20 or so players) that marched with us when I was in college so I was familiar with the emotions that the sound coming from a live performance can stir. Tonight he was playing “O Come All Ye Faithful” and it sent chills down my spine. The entire room was dead silent as he played through the verses, and then we all began to sing on the last verse. It was something I will never forget.

Today they have an equally impressive spread set out for us at the chow hall, with what I imagine will be an equally impressive menu. They’re cutting me out early, so I plan on going to Christmas Dinner with my friends and then watching some movies in my room. I’ll call the family tonight and try to take advantage of the 15 minutes they give us to talk.

Merry Christmas everyone, and a Happy Holiday from Qatar.

God Bless.

Christmas Eve

The horizon is a deep purple, gradually fading to a light orange glow and then back to black, with stars shining brightly overhead. All is silent, save for the steady “flip, flop” of my sandals as I make my way from the showers in the chill morning air. Suddenly the roar of an F-15E Strike Eagles’ engines shatters the stillness in the distance. I look up to see the twelve-foot long blue streaks of rocket thrust as they take off into the pre-dawn glow. Without warning I watch as they pull straight up to avoid any threats that could feebly attempt at bringing them down. Before I reach my room, they have disappeared into the darkness.

It’s Christmas Eve in the desert.

Everyone knows it--that back home in the States the most festive days of the year lay ahead. For us, we’ll make attempts at having some festivities of our own—a Christmas Party at the O’Club, gathering to watch a holiday movie at the rec center, a little extra food for us at the chow hall. But no one mentions home. Especially for those of us with children, no one breathes a word about what they know their families are doing right now. The only speak of the date, soon approaching, that we will board planes, much like we did four months ago, and leave this place behind us.

Up range the soldiers that the warplanes are going to protect carry on as they normally do. The terrorists don’t take a break for Christmas. They don’t care that the soldier they have targeted in their sights has a two-year old at home opening gifts from Santa Claus as he waits for him to drive over the IED he has set. So they will take no holiday—perhaps wishing a few “Merry Christmas” greetings and dream of a day that they can go home, leaving a peaceful Iraq behind them.

I can’t begin to imagine what those warriors are going through. I know I may have given the impression of misery here where I am, but it is nothing compared to what those boys face every day. The only real hardship that we have to face here is being away from home, away from our normal lives. But even given that, if they asked me to stay for another four months I would without hesitation. And Emily would understand. Because they are a large part of what we are here for, what we fight every day to protect. And without the support of those husbands, wives, and children celebrating their holidays at home right now we maybe wouldn’t win this war.

So tonight I will go to midnight mass, and go to bed dreaming of those kids who will just be waking up to see what was left for them under the tree. And they will remain free. And protected.

By those of us celebrating Christmas in the desert.

Another Christmas Poem

Came upon another Christmas poem today:

A Christmas Poem for Our Military

I had no Christmas spirit when I breathed a weary sigh,

And looked across the table where the bills were piled too high.

The laundry wasn't finished and the car I had to fix,

My stocks were down another point, the Dolphins lost by six.

And so with only minutes till my son got home from school

I gave up on the drudgery and grabbed a wooden stool.

The burdens that I carried were about all I could take,

And so I flipped the TV on to catch a little break.

I came upon a desert scene in shades of tan and rust,

No snowflakes hung upon the wind, just clouds of swirling dust.

And where the reindeer should have stood before a laden sleigh,

Eight Hummers ran a column right behind an M1A.

A group of boys walked past the tank, not one was past his teens.

Their eyes were hard as polished flint, their faces drawn and lean.

They walked the street in armor with their rifles shouldered tight,

Their dearest wish for Christmas, just to have a silent night.

Other soldiers gathered, hunkered down against the wind,

To share a scrap of mail and dreams of going home again.

There wasn't much at all to put their lonely hearts at ease,

They had no Christmas turkey, just a pack of MREs.

They didn't have a garland or a stocking I could see,

They didn't need an ornament-- they lacked a Christmas Tree.

They didn't have a present even though it was tradition,

the only boxes I could see were labeled "ammunition."

I felt a little tug and found my son now by my side,

He asked me what it was I feared, and why it was I cried.

I swept him up into my arms and held him oh so near

and kissed him on the forehead as I whispered in his ear.

There's nothing wrong my little son, for safe we sleep tonight,

Our heroes stand on foreign land to give us all the right,

To worry on the things in life that mean nothing at all,

Instead of wondering if we will be the next to fall.

He looked at me as children do and said its always right,

to thank the ones who help us and perhaps that we should write.

And so we pushed aside the bills and sat to draft a note,

to thank the many far from home, and this is what we wrote:

God Bless You all and keep you safe, and speed your way back home.

Remember that we love you so, and that you're not alone.

The gift you give you share with all, a present every day,

You give the gift of liberty and that we can't repay.

~author unknown

Day 106

Someone was talking about Christmas Day the other day. My spirits weren’t exactly soaring so I said “Sunday’s not Christmas, it’s day 106.” Talk about a bad attitude.

Time is slowing to almost a standstill. Our replacements should be getting here sometime early next month, and I should be excited being so close to getting out of here, but I’m not yet. I guess for me it’s just like it was on Thanksgiving—not really Turkey Day unless I’m crashed on the couch watching football with the kids.

The Army did something pretty cool yesterday. Their guys, as you know, are in even a worse situation than we are—they get to stay for the full year rather than just four months. Last night they set up a VTC (Video Teleconference) with a conference room back in the States. On the other end they had a children’s Christmas party going on where they could see their kids open some presents and say hello to their families. Man, technology is incredible sometimes. My buddy here is an Army guy—goes about 220 and can probably bench press twice his weight. Big dude. Former artillery officer. He was relaying the story of what he got to do last night and his eyes filled with tears as he was saying this—and he still has 8 months to go. He’s missing his daughter’s entire second year of life. At least he gets to go back for a week sometime in the summer.

I really wish the MSM would lay off of us for a little while and remember that being here is hard enough even with all the care packages and cards we get here. I truly think that the general public in the United States is overwhelmingly in support of us, but you couldn’t tell that from some of the stories that you see on TV.

AFN (American Forces Network) had a special dealio go on back in October where you could videotape yourself saying hello or wishing Merry Christmas to your family and they would air it on TV in your hometown. For some reason I declined to do it. Wish I had. Everyone that did has been able to have their families see it back home.

The kids are getting excited—both for Christmas and the prospect of their Daddy coming back. I’m trying to avoid telling them an exact day because I don’t want to disappoint them when I get extended here.