18 Candles: Happy Birthday!

Can we talk about love, relationships, marriage, family, affection and birthdays for a minute?

Everybody loves Baby Face (BF).  He is quiet, cute, friendly and looks about…18. 

Today was his birthday.  He comes to lunch and talked about the movie “16 Candles” (a classic from the 1980s) which is about a girl whose 16^th birthday is being overlooked (she thinks) because of her sister’s wedding.  Awwww.  Isn’t that sweet?

Baby Face almost got overlooked on his big day.  As Fists of Fury (FoF) was not present and she normally is in charge of all the big celebrations so the remaining ladies went off to the PX and got a cake and some special gifts.

As BF advances into to “Manhood” they didn’t want him to be unawares of the special requirements of a real man.  So everybody gathered together around 15:00 and sang “Happy Birthday!”, blew out imaginary candles on the cake and then he opened his gifts.  They said the gifts were from all of us, but truth be told the two of them recognized the need and just bought what was appropriate and necessary.

As each gift was unwrapped the “Oohs!” and “Aaaahs!” were mixed with laughter and knowing nods of affirmation.  The parents, aunts and uncles were all filled with joy because their little baby was just about all grown up!

“Hmmmm.  Shampoo?”  No.  Hair gel!  Because he wants to try out a flat top instead of his little Opie haircut.  Next is some “Old Spice” under arm deodorant; something masculine and an aid to good body odor control.  How about some “Axe” body spray, which you can spray on when you need an emergency bout of odor control (Also chicks dig it!)  Barbasol shaving cream…not that he needs it but if he ever does he will be ready!

Finally the last gift which looked like a magazine...“Oh NO!” I thought, I hope it isn’t that one magazine I saw him “reading” in the PX last week…and it wasn’t!  Instead it was “Sexy Latinas” magazine, which of course has pictures of clothed (barely) Latina women.  Now our little baby IS all grown up!

To conclude the festivities we were all going to watch the official movie of the CAB S4 “P.S. I Love You”.  The 2^nd and third official movies are “The Princess Bride” and “Galaxy Quest” followed by “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off”.  All of these movies have a common theme of committed love to others, personal growth and change and a relaxed approach to love and life.

To watch the movie you need some Kleenex if you are a man and a whole box of tissues if you are a woman.  The first five minutes of the movie explains perfectly the relationship problems between men and women.  The men in the room were laughing and nodding their heads knowingly.  The women were doing the same.  Yep. That is exactly how people who love each other really fight.

This allows our young man to learn how to relate to women you love.  To this date we all think he is just an inexperienced fellow looking none too hard for the special someone in his life.  And we all agree “There is nothing wrong with that!” 

Allow me to quote some great things the male hero says to his wife of about 7 years: 

To his wife he says:  “Every morning I still wake up and the first thing I want to do is to see your face.” Later as they argue about what their life may become and she expresses dissatisfaction with their life he says: “What do you want? I know what I want, cause I'm holding it in my hands.” As he held her shoulders and looked lovingly into her eyes.

Later another character has this conversation with the wife whispering as he tries to understand why he has troubles figuring women out.

“What do women want?”
“We have no idea what we want.”
“I knew it!”

The movie theme song is from the Pogues who have a questionable style and I don’t recommend them as a group, but this song is sung with a tenderness and emotion that makes you overlook the punk aspects and recognize it for the love ballad that it is.  This is the song men who love their wives want to sing every single day (if only in their hearts) if their wives would only let them:

I just want to see you
When you're all alone
I just want to catch you if I can
I just want to be there
When the morning light explodes
On your face it radiates
I can't escape
I love you 'till the end

I love you 'till the end

How do you finish up after a good tear jerker and chips and cake?  You talk leadership, NCO and officer leadership.  There is a long professional discussion about how leaders need to uphold the standard and things we need to do and not do.  The most important thing to remember is that the first person you need to talk to and have examine themselves is the man in the mirror. 

Finally the conversation drifts and the big question is asked directly.  BF looked straight at me and as directly as he possibly could he said, “Hey, sir, umm, am I going to be at this desk when I return from leave?” 

So direct and without fear he just blurted it out.  He didn’t say, “Sir:  I heard you tell the S3 in the hallway as we were walking to chow yesterday that you might transfer me to the S3 Plans section.  Is that your intention?”

So I stood there dumbfounded that he would ask such a strong question without fear or reservation.  The rest of the staff egged me on “Come on sir!  He deserves the truth!  Tell him the truth!”  Of course they all knew what the truth was because they heard me talk in the hallway also, and so they had asked me.  But they didn’t want to let BF know.  That would be too easy.  They wanted me to tell him, so I said, “You might want to clean out your desk before you leave”.

“Oh sir!  Tell him the truth!  You have to tell him sir!  It is the right thing to do.” the whole staff kept after me.

When we were walking down the hall the S3 was with us (which is very unusual) and I saw BF and the others in front of us a few paces and never missing an opportunity I said, “Do you really think we need to transfer LT Godfrey to the S3 plans?”  Without missing a beat or additional prompting the S3 (who is much smarter than he looks) said “Yeah.  I think we will have to do that.  We need the help and he needs the professional development.” Then we switched topics and let the issue simmer.

There was some additional discussion about the why and wherefore and how he heard and so forth.  Finally he shrugged his shoulders, shifted his weight a little and said “I haven’t slept in the past two days wondering about this”.  Poor boy!  He could have just asked me…but he didn’t.

Do you really think a father could do that to his own son?  Would the “Familia” allow that to happen?  There would be a great wailing and gnashing of teeth if our little BF was banished to the S3 Plans (arguably a place compared to Purgatory, but not as nice.)  The S4 needs someone to gently pick on and show love to; someone to help grow and mature and gently rebuke and build up.  He is a little brother, a son, a nephew and even the nice little next door neighbor’s kid.  Think Beaver, Opie and a little Cameron all rolled up into one. Would we do that to somebody we love and want the best for?  Would we do that to someone who has a degree in Digital Media (whatever that is) from Fresno State University, the 2010 College World Series National Baseball Champions?  I don’t think so!

I could have told him we love him and we can’t let him go.  I could have said that his skills are so important to the team that he couldn't be replaced (but I don’t want to exaggerate unduly).  I could have told him that the team would revolt if I ever allowed him to escape and not be there for our gentle jokes and humor enjoyed at his expense.  But I didn’t.  Instead I told him I love him like this “No.  We were just kidding.  We aren’t going to let you go.  We need somebody to pick on and that somebody is you.  You are welcome!”

So if you see Baby Face please tell him we love him and “Happy Birthday!”

Give me that Boom! Boom! Boom!

Isn’t that the way the lyrics go?  Before I left California my sons thought that was a great song, and as I make connections (Boom!? Boom?!) that is what I started thinking about shortly after the fact.  A tune gets into your head and you just can’t let it go.  Boom!  Boom! Boom!

Early in the morning (“Oh my Gawd! Are you so kidding me!” early) getting ready to go to a 0500 brief I was just about out the door at 0445 and I heard it.  Boom!  Boom!  Boom!  The sound kept going on and on.  Normally if you hear a sound like that you think “Mortars!” and there might be a warning buzzer, a Big Voice saying “Incoming!  Incoming!” and so forth.   My room is pretty much mostly solid walls (unlike the CHUs which are like cheap mobile home paper thin walls) and I have some windows facing the gravel parking lot with a few sand bags piled in front of it. Boom!  Boom!  I start thinking, “Man!  What is that sound?!”

Mortars only come in onesys and twosys; they don’t keep coming (Boom!) and (Boom!) coming. So my mind went to the next irrational thought.  Someone was driving pilings very close to my (Boom!) room for some reason.  I had driven on enough freeways and heard large pile drivers (kind of a BANG…..BANG…BANG! not Boom! Boom!  Boom!) and so I stood there and thought about that Boom! As the sound continued Boom!  Boom!  Boom! 

Then I thought some more (at age 50 you are normally loaded with an 8088 which was considered cutting edge back in the day) and slowly I realized it was the trash truck outside clanking the dumpster.  Sure it was…Boom!  Boom!  Boom! Boom! And in my relative genius I opened the door to get a more clear audio signal and I clearly heard BOOOM! …BOOM!....BOOOM! BOOM! BOOM! and closed the door.  Talk about slow on the uptake!  Those WERE mortars!  BoomBoomBoom! Jesus!  What am I supposed to do?  Me and Winnie the Pooh have so much in common; Think!  Think!  Think!  “Okay.  I have brick walls around me but a window right there.  Hmmm.  If a mortar lands on me I would have a serious problem.  What if it landed real close?  What about just outside my window what about-…” BOOOM! Right next to me (or so it appeared) and I dropped to the ground and thought “Oh yeah!  I guess I should do what I am supposed to do!” Boom!  Boom! Boom!

How about a little prayer for safety?  Boom!...Boom!... Boom!...Boom!  Okay…prayer complete; Boom!  Boom! Boom!  Is it over?  Boom!  Boom! Nope.  Not yet!  Boom!  Then silence.

I didn’t wait for the siren of “All clear”. Something had happened (You think!  What a bright one!) and I had a briefing to get to and of course we need to check on things.  I opened the door and saw the S2 running up with all his flight gear in hand wearing his ballistic vest looking like he had just seen a ghost.  I asked him what was going on “Heeeey Man!  What is going on?” or maybe it was just a squeal “Heywhatisgoinon!!”  I really can’t remember exactly, but he dropped his stuff and quickly ran down to the CHU area of our Soldiers.  

The S3 came out of his room and said “It was pretty close.  Didn’t you hear the dirt hitting the roof?” I hopped in the car and drove down to the unit’s CHU area.  We arrived about the same time and Soldiers were milling about checking on each other’s safety and getting accountability.  No hits in the CHU area so I drove down towards the briefing area.  I could tell that was where many mortars had hit and a later briefing indicated that there was a large number close to where I was to get my flight briefing.

If you count the “Booms!” above you are close to how many real booms there were.  Obviously the attackers were well trained in the use of a mortar.  There were two different locations (almost like an L shaped ambush) walking the mortars in on their respective paths for 25 minutes.  Okay, it seemed like 25 minutes….but it was all over in 2 minutes and 45 seconds.  Done, finished complete.  The unit would never be quite the same.  

It was clear that many of the Soldiers appeared to be in shock (and many still are.)  Some were just smoking outside the living areas and waiting.  Since there were Soldiers on the night shift, the swing shift and some were awakened just an hour or so before their normal time I saw more than I would normally ever see at once.  How do you get back to sleep after that?  For some it was very hard and still is; for others you make sure you are accounted for (the HQ knows you are alive and well) and go back in and close your eyes.  No big deal.  Everybody is different.

There was some heroism by some aviators of course.  Landing as the rounds came in they were just shutting down, stepping out and getting more fuel.  “Screw that!  Let’s go!  Get that fuel hose off the aircraft!...let’s go!” I can imagine the pilots saying as they took off again heading towards the sound of the guns.  Scouts out!  

The smart thing to do of course is to take off because the rounds explode on the ground so staying away from the ground is smart.  But I expect that actually it is a little more youthful bravery unhindered by commonsense or personal concern for safety. Couple that selfless bravery with a desire of trained Soldiers wanting to do what they are trained to do (Find, identify and kill the enemy) and get the dirty bastards.  Their fast action is considered by some to be the thing that stopped the mortars from firing and caused the enemy to leave rounds unfired on the ground in two places.  That is purely speculation, but the enemy tends toward cowardly attacks causing random terror and indiscriminate death.  They run at the first sign of danger unless they are blowing themselves to bits.  Some religious beliefs are so extreme you can’t fathom it.   

There are some humorous stories that came out of the incident.  Since nobody was killed (Thank God!) and only a few injured (I think 4 Purple Hearts awarded later) Soldiers immediately go to the humor of the incident.  Like Soldiers standing in the protective shelters wearing all manner of little pink slippers and similar clothing.  What was Sexy Jake wearing?  Or the resident nudist (towel body; is that legal?)?  Did Hot Cakes get a shirt on or was his masculine chest exposed? I don’t know.  But several Soldiers pulled their weapons and are rumored to have locked and loaded.  Now THAT is scary; it is just mortars!  No enemy crossed the wire or came towards us…but some will say that we need to be ready.  What if an enemy came in quietly bypassing our defenses etc…but the SOC guards are a pretty focused group: Ugandans.  Uganda is one tough place and they aren’t going to let somebody infiltrate.  Nope.

This action happened early in the month of May.  I let these things sit and simmer awhile waiting for the time and the full story before I write.  And of course there are some operational security issues that will have to wait until after the war.  It all seemed so scary and dangerous and so forth.

Then you hear about this other attack later and see it in print about somebody else and realize we were lucky. Five dead and many wounded at Camp Honor with numerous CHUs damaged or destroyed.  Sure they used a different type of attack with a different system, but it still went up in the air and landed causing terrible damage.

I am not afraid.  I don’t know why.  Probably a mental problem, but some are terribly frightened and can’t sleep and I roll over and go to bed without an issue.  When another attack came in a week later the Big Voice called out “Incoming!” and every chair in the DFAC scraped loudly and everybody was on the floor. It was almost like we were in the Air Force we were so fast to the ground!  Of course the DFAC is one of the safest places to be because of the reinforced roof.  Stay inside and don’t run out to the concrete shelters because the roof is such great protection.

So “Give me that Boom Boom Boom” but please protect us from that Boom!  Boom! Boom!

God’s will and in His mercy and Grace.  Amen!

Bump. Set. Spike!

Bump.  Set.  Spike.

Winning volleyball in Taji, Iraq; how did it come to this? 
We won our first one early in the season and we won another last night.  With each win I get that glow and satisfaction of a deserved victory.  Our losses are painful and come only as the result of much back and forth bump…set…spike!  Dig…set…SPIKE!  Bump….set….SPIIIIKE!   

I am sure you know the feeling before an athletic contest.  Even at 50 it surprises me but the same emotions come to me as when I competed even at a younger age.  The dry cotton mouth and the adrenaline starts to flow.  The heart rate begins to rise a little and my body warms up a little as game time approaches.  No, I know what you are thinking; isn’t that because you are walking a half mile or more in 100 degree heat?  Nope.  That warm breeze dries me off and the excitement doesn’t start until I can enter the gym and hear the game before ours in action.

After the warm-up the Hecklers start to harangue the referees or the other team.  They always seem to be for the under-dog.  The seating is home made with plywood without gaps three levels high.  When the Hecklers kick the floor and bang and yell the reverberation is almost deafening.  You can tell who is a Heckler and who isn’t because they are wearing T-shirts that say “Heckler” on it.  (Orange for men and pink for the female hecklers.)   Once we had over 50 people in attendance but it sounded like a Championship basketball game with the noise level being so loud and the people were yelling and cheering (best ticket in town that night; premium seating; this would have been a $250.00 dollar ticket if it was stateside and we were a beach volleyball game).

I remember our first victory as sweet as it was.  I smiled and felt great warmth, joy and pleasure in the knowledge that we were winners.  As tough as the competition is here victories come dear.
Some memories of some close losses; SGT Chua leaping for a block.  All the power and strength gathering in her calf and transiting through her legs, propelled to higher heights by her ankles and toes as she leaves the ground rising…rising…rising…her arms and hands outstretched.  I can see it in slow motion the uncoiling of this athlete rising….rising…and a vertical leap of amazing height.  Up, up, up and her hands pass the little squares in the net; past the first ones in a blur and finally slowly as she reaches the apex.  Reaching at the height of her leap the seventh square of the net and demonstrating what athletic heart is all about!  Full extension, reaching out and her feet clear the ground by, easily, (without actually measuring) maybe a good 7 maybe as much as 9 tenths of an inch.  The spike goes right over where her hands would have been if she was taller than 5 feet and could leap more than almost an inch.

SGT Chu isn’t the only female on the team. We also have some players who are pretty good (for women). I am many times the tallest player (of course), all (almost) 5-10” of me towering over the rest of the team.  This isn’t a beer league or a co-ed league.  Nope.  This is real competitive “A” league volleyball.  Some teams have a token female player on the team and they rotate her in when they have the game well in hand.  Not us!  We try to keep three females on the court all the time.  So we are shorter than the others and aren’t quite as powerful but we try to make up for it with heart, cunning and skill.

That might be difficult for many teams but it is pretty clear from a short observation of our warm-up (without even having to actually watch us play in a game) that most of our team played volleyball as a sport in Junior High at least and some maybe even at Basic Training occasionally.  We aren’t rank amateurs but talented Soldiers playing against teams that are often filled with giants of men (where their shortest is taller than our tallest) and officers who played some serious D1 volleyball in their day.  Even the Air Force team looks like they ALL played some competitive athletics in their prime.  That physical and genetic differential make our victories that much more sweet.

Speaking of the Air Force, it is clear they are a much more disciplined force than the Army.  When they were providing the referees for one game not only did they obviously know all the rules but enforced them with vigor.  Then, in the middle of my service there was a buzzer sound.  I couldn’t quite place it…but when I looked around the Air Force referees were already flat on the ground with their hands over their ears in the covered position (like they are supposed to be).  Then you could clearly hear the “Big Voice” over the loud speakers say “Incoming…Incoming”.  The next thing I know the contracted Ugandan guards who we were playing (also known as S.O.C. Guards, company name?) ran out and into the outside shelters for protection.   
Eventually all of my team followed suit and was lying on the ground.  I was left standing there ready to play.
Nobody is faster to the ground than the Air Force.  They are very well trained.  But more importantly they didn’t give us the point!  The ball was in play when the S.O.C. Guards abandoned the field of play for no good reason (no mortars even landed close to us BTW!)  We should have been given that point.  That one play broke our momentum and we eventually lost on what I consider to be a major breach of volleyball etiquette.  I am not whining, I am just saying if you are going to call a point against me because I “attacked” the serve when we all know that as high as my 1/2 inch vertical leap IS…I didn’t clear the ground.  Anyway….

 A second win!  Sure there is some satisfaction.  The big game is with the Charlie company unit that shares our office building (dump) later this month, but the second victory was terrific. Charlie Company have some (2) old guys (so with their two and me there should be 150 years or more on the court at one time) who are athletic for their age.  Not Aviator athletic…just athletic.  Old guy athletic; like if the ball comes close to them and they can see it and they don’t think it will hurt them and it isn’t coming too fast then they will try to hit it athletic.  It should be another victory for us.  Maybe a little more hard fought then the others.

That first win:  I still remember the way it was announced to everybody in an email: From our CPT all he said was :   Our first win...

The email below his thread was this:

Subject: Volleyball standings

Here are the current standings, what I did was added in a win for everyone who didn’t play team 2 already, 1-181 who was dropped as they disbanded from playing, for the ones who did play them your record stay the same.

John Snopes

MWR Technician

I know what you might be thinking (they dropped out?  That was a win?  Maybe they had missions to conduct, troops to transport or bad guys to kill?), but I think it was FEAR!  They were afraid of us!  They knew they would be ripped apart by the primal athleticism of our team and would never be able to live it down.  What else could it be?

Our second win didn’t get the same play, but I was even more excited. With the first win and you aren’t sure how to feel.  Should I be happy?  Giddy, elated?  After you get used to winning you know exactly what to do!  I jumped, cheered and encouraged all the players being a good sport like I am.  “They aren’t coming?  Really?!  They dropped from the league too!  Woo Hoo! Victory number two!”

Bump…set…Spike! That is what I know about volleyball.  Victory is sweet.