No Title
Tomorrow is the 6th of June. A bloody day in History as we know. It was also the day I saw the sun shine for 26 hours flying back from Iraq. The day my 18 year old Stepson became a Father, and myself...A grandfather...In essence.
I found some material stuck back that I had not posted. This is from the weeks before I left Iraq. I intended it for posting then.
25th May…We’re leaving…No, we’re not. We are told we have a four day window, most likely the last day.
26th of May…I wake to the sound of out going Artillery. Incoming just before 0800. The Chow hall closed and I went to Burger King which is ran out of a little carnival trailer.
We spend the day waiting. I found a rifle online being auctioned, but, can’t get it. I had borrowed an Iraqna Phon e since I had already sold mine and talked to the gun dealer back home about receiving it, and he was willing, but, not willing to fill out the back ground check over the phone. I’m shit out of luck. Calling the States on an Iraqna costs 30 Cents a minute, and the man I borrowed it from refused to take payment.
I write some on one of my novels…One day I will find t in myself to finish them.
27th of May…Sitting around waiting to leave is getting old. A special meeting was called for the out going CMATT. All it was, was some filling in the blanks on some forms, no information…I love the Army. All of the hurry up and wait doesn’t cease to be frustrating, but, maybe this down time helps with some decompression…That’s the bright side, I’d not had but one down day since mid April. I’m told there is a “pissing contest” going on in Baghdad and we’re caught in it.
I become aware of some issues back home, all I can do is pray.
There was another rifle being auctioned, I wrote the man explained my situation and asked if he would hold I if I won the bid. I don’t hear from him.
About 2130 the two girls that moved into the room net to mine are beating and banging on the walls. Come on girls…All of a sudden I hear the plastic table outside getting thrown around, I first figured it was them, but it was the wind, an Aboob, a dust storm.
28th of May. I wake up and look at the clock, and start to get out of bed. I hear impacts an then one rocks my door. I throw my pants on and don’t hear another, look outside but can’t make the impact. I learned the wind was 75 knots last night. The sky is all brown. We won’t be flying today. There is no internet, lines are blown down and the contract has ended on the internet in the MWR. I went to the Depot to use the internet there, I still haven’t heard from the man about the rifle…I’ve got the feeling I’m shit out of luck.
I went to BDOC and looked at pieces of the Mortars that hit us the last couple of days and this morning. The one that rocked my door was a 120mm rocket. It’s a holiday weekend.
Work out for an hour, lay around and do nothing. Time moves slowly. Word has come, we leave the 30th up in the night. I passed word out, a friend loaned me a copy of Curves and FHM Magazine. LOL, one of the pages really are stuck together.
It’s well over 100 degrees and it just sprinkled. Hat’s up with that?
29th of May…I got on line today and got a hopeful e-mail. The man is willing to hold the rife, or as he said, “”. So, I made a bid. I’ll go ahead and pay and he can hold it until I get back and go through the process, which, I’ll do the day I get in town, if I win the bid. The bidding ends at mid night my time, if I can just get on line, I best let the man know
I was loaned a movie, “Naked Weapons”, I couldn’t stand 10 minutes of it.
Sometimes, inside, I'm kind of numb since I've returned. Its not so much as a result of my time in Iraq. No major traumatic, shattering, dramatic event there. It's a culmination of events over the last few years of my life. I still see things plainly."Plainly" is not simple, but what things truly are. It's great to be alive. That feeling has not left.
The Appalachianist
I found some material stuck back that I had not posted. This is from the weeks before I left Iraq. I intended it for posting then.
25th May…We’re leaving…No, we’re not. We are told we have a four day window, most likely the last day.
26th of May…I wake to the sound of out going Artillery. Incoming just before 0800. The Chow hall closed and I went to Burger King which is ran out of a little carnival trailer.
We spend the day waiting. I found a rifle online being auctioned, but, can’t get it. I had borrowed an Iraqna Phon e since I had already sold mine and talked to the gun dealer back home about receiving it, and he was willing, but, not willing to fill out the back ground check over the phone. I’m shit out of luck. Calling the States on an Iraqna costs 30 Cents a minute, and the man I borrowed it from refused to take payment.
I write some on one of my novels…One day I will find t in myself to finish them.
27th of May…Sitting around waiting to leave is getting old. A special meeting was called for the out going CMATT. All it was, was some filling in the blanks on some forms, no information…I love the Army. All of the hurry up and wait doesn’t cease to be frustrating, but, maybe this down time helps with some decompression…That’s the bright side, I’d not had but one down day since mid April. I’m told there is a “pissing contest” going on in Baghdad and we’re caught in it.
I become aware of some issues back home, all I can do is pray.
There was another rifle being auctioned, I wrote the man explained my situation and asked if he would hold I if I won the bid. I don’t hear from him.
About 2130 the two girls that moved into the room net to mine are beating and banging on the walls. Come on girls…All of a sudden I hear the plastic table outside getting thrown around, I first figured it was them, but it was the wind, an Aboob, a dust storm.
28th of May. I wake up and look at the clock, and start to get out of bed. I hear impacts an then one rocks my door. I throw my pants on and don’t hear another, look outside but can’t make the impact. I learned the wind was 75 knots last night. The sky is all brown. We won’t be flying today. There is no internet, lines are blown down and the contract has ended on the internet in the MWR. I went to the Depot to use the internet there, I still haven’t heard from the man about the rifle…I’ve got the feeling I’m shit out of luck.
I went to BDOC and looked at pieces of the Mortars that hit us the last couple of days and this morning. The one that rocked my door was a 120mm rocket. It’s a holiday weekend.
Work out for an hour, lay around and do nothing. Time moves slowly. Word has come, we leave the 30th up in the night. I passed word out, a friend loaned me a copy of Curves and FHM Magazine. LOL, one of the pages really are stuck together.
It’s well over 100 degrees and it just sprinkled. Hat’s up with that?
29th of May…I got on line today and got a hopeful e-mail. The man is willing to hold the rife, or as he said, “”. So, I made a bid. I’ll go ahead and pay and he can hold it until I get back and go through the process, which, I’ll do the day I get in town, if I win the bid. The bidding ends at mid night my time, if I can just get on line, I best let the man know
I was loaned a movie, “Naked Weapons”, I couldn’t stand 10 minutes of it.
Sometimes, inside, I'm kind of numb since I've returned. Its not so much as a result of my time in Iraq. No major traumatic, shattering, dramatic event there. It's a culmination of events over the last few years of my life. I still see things plainly."Plainly" is not simple, but what things truly are. It's great to be alive. That feeling has not left.
The Appalachianist
posted by Hill Billy Rave | Thursday, June 05, 2008
20 Comments:
Rockets, shudder...
We'd get the occasional 122mm (or maybe it was 120mm, can't remember)rocket when I was TDY to Ben Hoa. The short time I was there no casualties except some hootches and vehicles. But still, it wasn't a fun experience not knowing when/where the next one would impact.
Welcome home again, Dan.
Time eventually heals all of it or so they say.
I didn't go into detail about the 26th of May, but that was a pretty bad hit. Could have been worse. It was with a variety of rockets and mortars. Mainly Chinese 120mm Mortars.
We didn't get hit nearly like you'll did in Vietnam, Gunner. Well, we did that weekend and I heard later around August they got it again. We knew where they aimed for, but sometimes they were random. A "take that" shot for their honor.
I don't think most people realise most violence in Iraq is among Iraqis. They will let you know they're there though.
Thans Gunner.
Does BK there taste like BK here?
Rumor is one of my buddies might be going to Taji. Do you know if it has changed much since you were there? Just about everyone I know says Taji sucks, but what place in Iraq doesn't suck?
What was the issue about filling out a gun check on the phone? Why wouldn't he do it? No ID? Cool the guy did not want your money for the phone.
It's going to be 110* today w/the heat index. I want to complain but I can't because I know my boys in Iraq are sweltering.
I ain't gonna touch the sticky magazine comment. I did get a chuckle though.
""Plainly" is not simple, but what things truly are." Sometimes you just slay me APP. I think one of your books should be philosophical quotes by the Appalachian'ist Hill Billy. When are we going to be able to read one of your novels? I love to proof-read:-) Hint.
D-Day, one of the most honorable days in our history. I thought a lot about D-Day yesterday. One of my friends is an 89 year old D-day survivor, Omaha Beach, he earned the Distinguished Service Cross for taking out a machine gun nest of Germans in the hedgerows. He saved an entire platoon by his actions, they were trapped and gonna die. One of my favorite things is to go visit him and hear his stories. He is living history and a wonderful, dear man.
I cherish my times w/him so much.
Life doen't leave us until . . . , but death drags its ugly heels close behind us and it dogs us and is closer at times then others, but fortunately, we never know how close it really is, but it doesn't require much imagination when you are under motor attack. Yeah, I worried about you when you were in Iraq. I talked to Randy about your plans. I am that I have not gotten to Brevard. I want to go to the Pisgah Inn, but I would settle for the Huddle House. Keep putting your novels together. It is a needed work no matter what the subject of them, and yes, it is good to be alive. I can read that much it in your postings . . . at times they are like prayers . . . about life and Appalachia . . . at least they seem as such to me. Perhaps I read too much into them. My in-laws served in the army during WWII. They were some five brothers who served in WWII only differing from many other families in that they all survived to come home from places like Anzio and the Bulge. I was in awe of my father-in-law. He was a small man physically, but he saw Patton and walked across North Africa, and Sicily, and Italy, and the south of France, and into the Rhineland. Along the way, he earned five campaign ribbons. He lived to be 90 years old, and I miss him very much. Bill
Morning.
Mew, BK, Pizza Hut, they tasted pretty much the same. No fountain drinks though, just a canned drink.
Now the chow hall food, under the circumstances was good, it was not the same.
All I know about are changes on the Iraqi side of Taji. It's always going to be dusty, brown and junky in the summer and muddy, brown and junky in the winter. And it has more Iraqi decrepit structure. It does suck compared to those BIAP FOBs.
There was allot of luck, both good and bad on Normandy Beach that day. And,I say that for both sides.
Prayers? LOL, you need to live, Bill.
I never had a close moment with the incoming. Yes, I was about 100 meters out from a 120mm impact in my truck once, and I was jolted by blasts a couple of times, but, it was us blowing stuff up, I've never meant to make any claim of it. There is really nothing there for me to dwell on.
Bill, gas is expensive, but if you want to see those iveys bloom, you best get up here. Fast.
Talked to Randy about a month back.
Bill, its something when you miss your Ex's dad more than you do her. That's a joke, you know. Your Ex Father In Law got the whole gambit. All five brothers living is rare. If people saw the official casualty rates.
Bill, God bless the family of 5 serving at once in WWII. Amazing. And God's will they all came home. worrying about one loved one being at war is enough, I can't imagine worrying about 5 at once. And go to Pisgah or Huddle, don't know what they are, but you should go. App's posts at times can be like prayers, I get that. He is a channeler whether he realizes it or not.
Now App, what about the gun check thing? Why wouldn't he do it over the phone? I want a 9mm and don't know how to buy one. My brother says I would be dangerous w/a gun so he won't select one for me. I like target shooting, that would be cans/jugs.
Well, my comments were heart felt as were yours . . . I underwent a cat scan, a chest x-ray, and a bone scan as my PSA started back up again. Dr. Babcock in reading the results did not find cancer; nevertheless, he wants to keep a close check on things. My comments on prayer and the doggedness of things . . . had much more to them than you can imagine . . . not to worry the mountains will outlast us . . . and that is great comfort . . . and I consider it a prayer . . . didn't mean to get serious on you. I have a granddaughter who shares my middle name . . . Andison . . . my X' managed to get herself disbarred taking almost . . . well, it was a lot of someone else's money, a client's money, and I just cannot help her anymore, so I try to neutralize that as much as I can, and yes I thought the world of my father-in-law. He only had a fourth grade education,and he was one of the brightest men I have known. Walking through the woods with him was to know the trees and plants and the medicenes of the forest. When you lose someone like that the loss is so much more than you realize at the time, and you are greatly diminished by it . . . an old man talking . . . it is why your memories of the mountains and your life are so important. Most don't write them down . . . even me, and they are precious. It must be Sunday . . . I'm preachin' . . . went to Church and find myself preachin' . . . . Bill
The dogs are fed...
Me, the gun, it became a mute point. The man held it for me. After talking to someone else at the gun shop, it was a non issue. The paper work was to be filled out upon arrival of the gun. The one I spoke to was just...Not with it. I hunted with it this year.
You'll, I really don't get this prayers and channeling stuff. "The mountains won't remember us" is a quote from a local, as in native to here, author Robert Morgan. it's a title of one of his books, gave it to my stepson, doubt he read it.
But, it's like the last few lines of this post. It's what came to my mind, with a pause and conclusion. It was open thought and it feels good to write raw sometimes. That is a reason I did not fix the typos.
Prayers? OK,my prayers are for eroding homeland.
I don't like that cancer stuff, Bill. I'm fortunate in the way, that is something that is...Knock on wood...Not dealt with on my (body) part. Cancer free is a good thing.
A lesson learned by many is that you cannot help someone you are romantically involved in. Wiser souls, such as yourself, neutralize that, because when the other does not help themselves, the romance comes to a sudden and painful end. There's more to the cycle, but "nuff said".
You reminded me. I look at my stat counter everyday, and it's fun how I'm pulled up on some search and I go back and glance over that post.
But you pointed out very well, we are losing allot of folk knowledge.
App, you don't need to get it....it just is. All you need to do is keep writing raw.
I don't think anyone likes cancer. My dog's cancer is back. No more surgeries. We are enjoying our time together.
Bill, take good care of yourself. I will be sayin some prayers for you.
Oh, this made me start my day w/piss and vinegar
http://www.tampabay.com/opinion/columns/article527719.ece
Interesting journal posts, glad you posted it. Had to laugh at the dining hall being closed, but BK still serving it your way, what's this war coming too. Didn't laugh about the rockets...
Which issue of Bartram do you recommend--suppose I could sloush through a bit of latin.
I got home from NC and we've had one thunderstorm after another, no power, and at 2 AM, giant fireballs from a transmission line...
Thanks Mew, and, I hate to hear about your dog. I'll check the story...Tampa? Does it have anything to do with Ed?
Sage, I've only read the Naturalist Edition of Bartram, so, I can't say. I would sometimes skim across a whole paragraph of Latin listing the plants he had found that day. He wrote, very romantically though.
An interesting thing, when he was traveling on the Little Tennessee in what is now Otto NC (where my grandmother is from)he said his horses hooves were like bloody red from walking through the Strawberries. The man lived an adventure.
The reason they closed the chow hall is they were shooting at it. BK had closed, but reopened. I don't rememebr why.
Write your novel dang it. If you don't want to finish, start it and post one chapter at a time. Pretty soon you will need to finish (quit posting about that time you don't want so many people having read it that you can't sell it.
No, the article doesn't have to do w/Ed. Just another story on another Jack Arse that is stupid and clueless. Some people shouldn't be allowed to think or write...or have children.
I couldn't get the hyperlink thingy to work. How do I do that?
3n10, I've been working on them a little lately. I won't say, I don't want to "jinx" it. But, thanks for coming by and shouting a word.
Mew, it could have been with one of my com padre's from Iraq that is in Tampa. He was the one that survived the World Trade Center. I've become a fan of Garrison Keiler's "Writers Almanac". I've skimmed the article, I'll read it more later.
Mew, about hyper linking, I can't get it to do either, I've not tried it in a while. Now Appalachian Guntrash is a wiz at it. You better ask him.
About the article, I can't be mad a Garrison Keilor. I can see where he is coming from, and the Bikers, they are doing what they know how to do...Ride bikes and dress up like Bikers. Their intentions are well, even if allot of people these days are passing themselves off as Bikers are in it for the image...And that goes for allot of things these days. But, that is another subject.
Garrison Keilor is a writing critic, a poet, writer and radio personality. He is also a bit of an intellectual. Keilor offers a real and more creative alternative.
"If anyone cared about the war dead, they could go read David Halberstam's The Coldest Winter: America and the Korean War or Stephen Ambrose's Citizen Soldiers: The U.S. Army from the Normandy Beaches to the Bulge to the Surrender of Germany, June 7, 1944 to May 7, 1945 or any of a hundred other books, and they would get a vision of what it was like to face death for your country..."
Heck, with the price of gas right now, it would be patriotic to stay at home. I think the Bikers meant well, but, I think Keilor is a little more in line.
I get the epithat that he put at the end about the boat. Mew, don't be mad, I think he meant well. Go back and give it another read.
I can't even dignify your response w/an answer other than to ask the question when was the last time you or Keilor thought about Alex Jimenez or Byron Fouty?
Both you and Keilor need to do your homework on Rolling Thunder.
I've been to war and I've personally known several that went and didn't come back.
And your point is?
I have nothing to prove to anyone.
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