Friday, October 31, 2008
Happy birthday to me
1 NovWhat a way to turn 40... thousands of miles from your family under the constant threat of the Taliban!!! Actually, it was a great day. My team here surprised me with a pizza, cake and a movie.
I have to admit, I woke up this morning amazed that I was actually 40... but that's cool. For 40-years old, I think I'm sitting pretty. I have a beautiful wife, great kids, a fun job, a kick ass car and a body that can still run a half-marathon.
I've anchored the news, won an Emmy, broke the sound barrier in an F-16, worked in the White House, served my country, taught at the university level and backpacked across Europe. I've been to nearly two dozen different countries. I've walked the beaches of Normandy and sat for hours in the Louve and Notre Dame. I've spent time in a Mexican prison, got hammered on a pub crawl in Dublin and drunk with Navy SEALs in San Diego. I've landed on and taken off from a carrier at sea. I've been a bachelor on The Dating Games and sat in the audience of The Price is Right six times. I've shaken hands with a President and met the man who piloted the plane that dropped the first atomic bomb.
I have attempted to squeeze every experience I can out of life... and I think I've gotten the most out of the past 40 years. But this is only the halfway point. Susan, Kathryn and Charlie can look forward to many adventures ahead.
I say bring it on. I can only image what the list will look like when I'm 50!
Christmas in October
10/31
I now what it feels like to be Santa Claus. Actually, Santa Claus is a gross understatement based on the experience I had today.
In the desert surrounding Kabul at the base of the Hindu Kush Mountains, thousands of people live in poor, depressing refugee camps. The camp I visited today is home to more than 500 families, all scrapping to get by. They have little food, no running water and their cloths are ripped and dirty. Malaria is a huge problem. So is the oncoming winter weather. Last year, this camp lost six children to the freezing cold temperatures.
Our convoy of ten vehicles and two trucks delivered cloths, blankets, toys and food to the camp. If you’ve ever seen sharks swarm a fresh kill, it was sort of like that. Each member of the military had backpacks stuffed with goodies, and as each pack was opened, the children attacked. There was no orderly distribution. They grabbed anything and everything they could get their hands on. They’d even fight over a pair of shoes, usually with one pair being split between two people. But one shoe apiece is more than what they had before we arrived.
One of them even made off with my expensive Blackhawk backpack. But can you blame them? These people have nothing.
What saddens my heart the most are the children who are the same age as my own kids; 3 and 5 years old. The children here have so little and Kathryn and Charlie have everything. They’re royalty compared to these refugees. One little boy (pictured above) was so small he was trampled by the mob, walking away empty handed. I picked him up, wiped away his tears and carried him to my secret stash. All I could give him was a stuffed Pooh Bear and a candy bar, but it made him happy. If I was given the opportunity to adopt the kid on the spot, I would have done it.
Sadly, we were only allowed to stay 45 minutes for security reason.
I despise Angelina Jolie and Madonna because I think they've only adopted refuee children for publicity reasons. But after experiencing this refugee camp today, any home, even Madonna's, is better than this place.
I now what it feels like to be Santa Claus. Actually, Santa Claus is a gross understatement based on the experience I had today.
In the desert surrounding Kabul at the base of the Hindu Kush Mountains, thousands of people live in poor, depressing refugee camps. The camp I visited today is home to more than 500 families, all scrapping to get by. They have little food, no running water and their cloths are ripped and dirty. Malaria is a huge problem. So is the oncoming winter weather. Last year, this camp lost six children to the freezing cold temperatures.
Our convoy of ten vehicles and two trucks delivered cloths, blankets, toys and food to the camp. If you’ve ever seen sharks swarm a fresh kill, it was sort of like that. Each member of the military had backpacks stuffed with goodies, and as each pack was opened, the children attacked. There was no orderly distribution. They grabbed anything and everything they could get their hands on. They’d even fight over a pair of shoes, usually with one pair being split between two people. But one shoe apiece is more than what they had before we arrived.
One of them even made off with my expensive Blackhawk backpack. But can you blame them? These people have nothing.
What saddens my heart the most are the children who are the same age as my own kids; 3 and 5 years old. The children here have so little and Kathryn and Charlie have everything. They’re royalty compared to these refugees. One little boy (pictured above) was so small he was trampled by the mob, walking away empty handed. I picked him up, wiped away his tears and carried him to my secret stash. All I could give him was a stuffed Pooh Bear and a candy bar, but it made him happy. If I was given the opportunity to adopt the kid on the spot, I would have done it.
Sadly, we were only allowed to stay 45 minutes for security reason.
I despise Angelina Jolie and Madonna because I think they've only adopted refuee children for publicity reasons. But after experiencing this refugee camp today, any home, even Madonna's, is better than this place.
Monday, October 27, 2008
A day in the life
OCT 27
My department head is a German Colonel. My commanding officer is a Royal Navy Captain. Our commanding general is an American Army four star. Welcome to the world of NATO. I've been on the job for only a couple days and my head is now spinning with dozens of new military acronyms, foreign rank insignias and people's names that contain 14 consonance and one vowel.
Forty-three nations make up the NATO forces in Afghanistan. Obviously, the United States comprises nearly half of the 51,000 troops fighting the Taliban here. It's an interesting lot and amazing to see how different militaries operate. One of the most interested is the Former Yugoslavia Republic of Macedonia. Their soldiers are charged .19 cents for every bullet they fire. Yes, I'm being serious.
Everyday there's a briefing and it's filled with atrocities you never hear about back home. Today, we heard about the Taliban hanging two young children... a 7-and-8 year old. They did this to intimidate the families of voter registration workers. Meantime, right now on CNN.com, you can read about the doughnut-maker who lost 170-pounds.
Getting me through my first turbulent days is LT Jessica Gandy who established my office, the Multi-Purpose Public Affairs Team or MPPAT. Jessica is an amazing Naval Officer and someone who I know will go VERY FAR in the military (if we are able to keep her). She comes from a family with a long and proud tradition of Naval service. She speaks five languages including Arabic and Russian, can multi-task like no one I've ever seen and is known and adored by EVERYONE on this base. I have very big shoes to fill. By the way, she's just 27-years old.
Our job is to document the war by churning out product; video stories, print stories, photos with captions. If this were a newsroom, I would be the news director. It's a job I'm comfortable doing based on my previous life in the media. But my most rewarding day in the civilian newsroom could never come close to the reward of working here and telling our militaries story.
But it can't be all work and no play. There's a pub on base and tonight there's a band. The band's name; The Tali-Band. This is something I have to see.
My department head is a German Colonel. My commanding officer is a Royal Navy Captain. Our commanding general is an American Army four star. Welcome to the world of NATO. I've been on the job for only a couple days and my head is now spinning with dozens of new military acronyms, foreign rank insignias and people's names that contain 14 consonance and one vowel.
Forty-three nations make up the NATO forces in Afghanistan. Obviously, the United States comprises nearly half of the 51,000 troops fighting the Taliban here. It's an interesting lot and amazing to see how different militaries operate. One of the most interested is the Former Yugoslavia Republic of Macedonia. Their soldiers are charged .19 cents for every bullet they fire. Yes, I'm being serious.
Everyday there's a briefing and it's filled with atrocities you never hear about back home. Today, we heard about the Taliban hanging two young children... a 7-and-8 year old. They did this to intimidate the families of voter registration workers. Meantime, right now on CNN.com, you can read about the doughnut-maker who lost 170-pounds.
Getting me through my first turbulent days is LT Jessica Gandy who established my office, the Multi-Purpose Public Affairs Team or MPPAT. Jessica is an amazing Naval Officer and someone who I know will go VERY FAR in the military (if we are able to keep her). She comes from a family with a long and proud tradition of Naval service. She speaks five languages including Arabic and Russian, can multi-task like no one I've ever seen and is known and adored by EVERYONE on this base. I have very big shoes to fill. By the way, she's just 27-years old.
Our job is to document the war by churning out product; video stories, print stories, photos with captions. If this were a newsroom, I would be the news director. It's a job I'm comfortable doing based on my previous life in the media. But my most rewarding day in the civilian newsroom could never come close to the reward of working here and telling our militaries story.
But it can't be all work and no play. There's a pub on base and tonight there's a band. The band's name; The Tali-Band. This is something I have to see.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Already earning my pay
25OCTGetting to Afghanistan is NO EASY TASK. I’m on the ground, but it was a long night of bus rides, checkpoints, briefs, flights, more flights, more brief and one last bus ride to get us here. And I’m sure more brief are on the way.
We left Camp Virginia in Kuwait yesterday at 12:00. I am now on the ground at the Kabul Airport and the current time is 7:40 the following morning.
The flight from Kuwait to Bagram Air Force Base in Afghanistan was on a C-17 (click the link for a picture: http://images.google.com/images?hl=en&q=C-17&gbv=2 ). This is a HUGE plane and very comfortable for the 200 plus in our group. Now Kabul is only 30 MILES from Bagram, but we have to fly there as well. This 30 MILE leg of the journey took seven hours on a C-130. That’s because the Air Force has to fly from FOB (Forward Operating Base) to FOB picking up people and dropping them off along the way. Unfortunately, they made us the last stop.
While we were landing at one FOB, the Taliban welcomed us to Afghanistan by firing an RPG at our plane. The pilot had to fire his flares to deflect it and all was well. Needless to say, that was a VERY QUICK stop. We took off again within 10 minutes. I guess I’m already earning my Hazardous Duty Pay and Hostile Fire Pay.
Again, we are now on the ground in Kabul at the airport awaiting our ride to the base. All is well and I am safe.
Welcome to Afghanistan.
The Udari Range
24 OCT
After four days of R&R, it was finally time to get back into training mode. That meant it was our turn to head out to the Udari Range. If Camp Virginia has been my desert oasis, then the Udari Range is surely Hell on Earth.
Remember the sand dunes C3PO and R2D2 landed on in the beginning of the first Star Wars movie? Well, put an isolated military shooting range in the middle of those blowing dunes and you have the Udari Range. Since returning to Camp Virginia, I’ve taken three showers and still haven’t gotten all the sand off me.
We arrived at one of the best times of the year; the temperature was just shy of 100 degrees. I can only imagine what it’s like in the middle of June or July with the summer heat and the sand storms. Here, we spent two and a half days out on the range practicing close quarters marksmanship (shooting a bad guy within 25 meters) and convoy training.
The convoy training was the best money could buy. On the range is a several mile long course that winds through several plywood villages and towns. The military actually hires locals to be role players and scatters them along the course; a mix of innocent bystanders, suspicious characters and downright terrorists. Also along the course are IEDs exactly like the ones being planted in Iraq and Afghanistan, suicide bombers, small arms fire, protestors and mock police. After assigning people to various convoy positions, our 11 HUMVEEs headed down the road. Needless to say we hit just about every IED and mishandled just about every scenario. But that’s why we were here, to learn. Again, this was some of the most educational, eye-opening training I’ve ever received.
And while the training was great, the living conditions were not! We all slept together in one big tent in sleeping bags on the hard floor. There wasn’t enough room in the tent for our gear so our bags had to stay outside… with the scorpions and the snakes. No chow hall, just MREs… which we were required to eat outside… in the blowing sand. And no shower facilities or indoor bathrooms; just port-a-potties. But this was a bonding experience and we all made the best of the situation.
After more than a month together, tomorrow, my shipmates and I will officially part ways. My group heading to Afghanistan leaves on the first flight. The team heading to Iraq leaves shortly after us. Sadly, this means my good friend, my battle buddy James Stockman and I will be going in separate directions. James and I have been side by side since day one of training. I’ll miss eating, hanging out and bitching about the military with James. But it’s a small Navy and I’m sure we’ll cross paths again. Good luck James!
Okay Afghanistan, here I come.
After four days of R&R, it was finally time to get back into training mode. That meant it was our turn to head out to the Udari Range. If Camp Virginia has been my desert oasis, then the Udari Range is surely Hell on Earth.
Remember the sand dunes C3PO and R2D2 landed on in the beginning of the first Star Wars movie? Well, put an isolated military shooting range in the middle of those blowing dunes and you have the Udari Range. Since returning to Camp Virginia, I’ve taken three showers and still haven’t gotten all the sand off me.
We arrived at one of the best times of the year; the temperature was just shy of 100 degrees. I can only imagine what it’s like in the middle of June or July with the summer heat and the sand storms. Here, we spent two and a half days out on the range practicing close quarters marksmanship (shooting a bad guy within 25 meters) and convoy training.
The convoy training was the best money could buy. On the range is a several mile long course that winds through several plywood villages and towns. The military actually hires locals to be role players and scatters them along the course; a mix of innocent bystanders, suspicious characters and downright terrorists. Also along the course are IEDs exactly like the ones being planted in Iraq and Afghanistan, suicide bombers, small arms fire, protestors and mock police. After assigning people to various convoy positions, our 11 HUMVEEs headed down the road. Needless to say we hit just about every IED and mishandled just about every scenario. But that’s why we were here, to learn. Again, this was some of the most educational, eye-opening training I’ve ever received.
And while the training was great, the living conditions were not! We all slept together in one big tent in sleeping bags on the hard floor. There wasn’t enough room in the tent for our gear so our bags had to stay outside… with the scorpions and the snakes. No chow hall, just MREs… which we were required to eat outside… in the blowing sand. And no shower facilities or indoor bathrooms; just port-a-potties. But this was a bonding experience and we all made the best of the situation.
After more than a month together, tomorrow, my shipmates and I will officially part ways. My group heading to Afghanistan leaves on the first flight. The team heading to Iraq leaves shortly after us. Sadly, this means my good friend, my battle buddy James Stockman and I will be going in separate directions. James and I have been side by side since day one of training. I’ll miss eating, hanging out and bitching about the military with James. But it’s a small Navy and I’m sure we’ll cross paths again. Good luck James!
Okay Afghanistan, here I come.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Purgatory isn't so bad
18 OCT
If purgatory is to Heaven, then Kuwait is to Afghanistan. Oh, I know Afghanistan is far from being Heaven, but the analogy works for my situation. The base where I’m located in Kuwait is just a pit stop for hundreds of service members heading to different theaters. But unlike purgatory, advancement is guaranteed and your direction is known.
I don’t know what waits for me on the other side of that shinny light, but I’m enjoying my time here. Sure it’s a big hot nasty sand box, but this place is allowing me to get adjusted to the time difference as well as the weather. We virtually have all day to chill out and just adjust. The military throws in a little training to justify our existence, but for the most part we’re just hanging out.
The first time I deployed, I went straight from the states to my job in Bahrain. For more than a week, I was useless, constantly falling asleep at my desk. I dreaded going outside because of the massive change in temperature. But this time around, I will be good to go as soon as I have boots on the ground. Believe it not, the military got this place right.
I’d also like to send out props to the folks with the USO. Yes, there’s still a USO. They do so much for our military it’s unbelievable. On this base, they’ve provided me with a free phone card, free internet access and a free movie theater. Those are just the services I’ve used. They also have a number of video gaming stations that the young Marines play all night long. Tomorrow, I have an appointment set up with them to shoot video of me reading a book to the kids. How cool is that.
So until my next journal entry, you’ll find me just hanging out here in purgatory.
If purgatory is to Heaven, then Kuwait is to Afghanistan. Oh, I know Afghanistan is far from being Heaven, but the analogy works for my situation. The base where I’m located in Kuwait is just a pit stop for hundreds of service members heading to different theaters. But unlike purgatory, advancement is guaranteed and your direction is known.
I don’t know what waits for me on the other side of that shinny light, but I’m enjoying my time here. Sure it’s a big hot nasty sand box, but this place is allowing me to get adjusted to the time difference as well as the weather. We virtually have all day to chill out and just adjust. The military throws in a little training to justify our existence, but for the most part we’re just hanging out.
The first time I deployed, I went straight from the states to my job in Bahrain. For more than a week, I was useless, constantly falling asleep at my desk. I dreaded going outside because of the massive change in temperature. But this time around, I will be good to go as soon as I have boots on the ground. Believe it not, the military got this place right.
I’d also like to send out props to the folks with the USO. Yes, there’s still a USO. They do so much for our military it’s unbelievable. On this base, they’ve provided me with a free phone card, free internet access and a free movie theater. Those are just the services I’ve used. They also have a number of video gaming stations that the young Marines play all night long. Tomorrow, I have an appointment set up with them to shoot video of me reading a book to the kids. How cool is that.
So until my next journal entry, you’ll find me just hanging out here in purgatory.
Happy Birthday Charlie!!!
17 OCT
A special note to my Buddy Bear
Charlie, HAPPY BIRTHAY! No Daddy could be more proud of his big three year old as I am of you. I hope you love all the new toys Mommy and Daddy got you. I also hope you enjoy the cake and ice cream. Since I can’t be there with you, you can have my piece.
Buddy Bear, please know that your Daddy loves and misses you and while we may be a world apart, you’re actually here with me because I keep you in my heart. Where do you keep Daddy? That’s right, in your heart. I’m thinking of you all the time.
I know your Mommy is doing a great job taking care of you and Kathryn and I’ll be home before you know it. Be a good boy and remember, Christmas is right around the corner and Santa is watching.
Have fun today. I love you son. Again, I wish you a very Happy Birthday.
All my love in the world!
Daddy
A special note to my Buddy Bear
Charlie, HAPPY BIRTHAY! No Daddy could be more proud of his big three year old as I am of you. I hope you love all the new toys Mommy and Daddy got you. I also hope you enjoy the cake and ice cream. Since I can’t be there with you, you can have my piece.
Buddy Bear, please know that your Daddy loves and misses you and while we may be a world apart, you’re actually here with me because I keep you in my heart. Where do you keep Daddy? That’s right, in your heart. I’m thinking of you all the time.
I know your Mommy is doing a great job taking care of you and Kathryn and I’ll be home before you know it. Be a good boy and remember, Christmas is right around the corner and Santa is watching.
Have fun today. I love you son. Again, I wish you a very Happy Birthday.
All my love in the world!
Daddy
* This is a day I have been dreading for months. I feel miserable being away from my son on his birthday. The only consolation is the thought that Charlie may never even remember this birthday when he grows up. What a crappy feeling I have in my gut right now.
I'm here... almost.
16 OCT
Left in the dark and arrived in the dark. We spent almost an entire day in the air. From South Carolina to Kuwait, it was almost 17 hours of flying and that doesn’t include layovers in Bangor, Maine or Shannon, Ireland. With me are more than 200 jet-legged and exhausted Sailors. We’re here and happily hitting our tents to go to bed. I’ll write more about our arrival later. Until then, goodnight.
Left in the dark and arrived in the dark. We spent almost an entire day in the air. From South Carolina to Kuwait, it was almost 17 hours of flying and that doesn’t include layovers in Bangor, Maine or Shannon, Ireland. With me are more than 200 jet-legged and exhausted Sailors. We’re here and happily hitting our tents to go to bed. I’ll write more about our arrival later. Until then, goodnight.
Think you're a Patriot?
15 OCT
Patriotism comes in all shapes and sizes. The family that flies an American flag in front of their home is a patriotic family. The guy who puts a magnetic yellow ribbon on his bumper is a patriot too. I appreciate them, but tonight I’ve been slapped in the face by the honest truth that those Americans are just doing the bare minimum. They’re taking the “patriotic low road.”
To catch our flight to Kuwait, our three busloads of Sailors arrived at the airport hanger at 0200, that’s 2 a.m. for you none military folks. There waiting for us were dozens of applauding and cheering people, most of them former military members and their spouses. I repeat; it was 2 a.m. They had American flags in hand and thanked us and patted us on the back for stepping up and going forward. These people got up in the middle of the night just to wish us well. I’m sure they were expected at work a few hours later but being there for us was more important to them than a good nights sleep.
So often you hear people complaining about how the wave of patriotism died away just a few weeks after September 11th. The reality is it never died. These “high road patriots” were carrying the torch long before those planes ever hit and they continue to do so today. As long as we have a handful of high road patriots, I’m confident our country is in good hands. Remember, it was just a handful of brave Americans who stepped forward and spit into the face of the British monarchy to form our country.
I challenge you my family and friends…take the high road.
Right now I’m somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. We’re headed to Shannon, Ireland and after a short refueling stop, it’s onto Kuwait.
Patriotism comes in all shapes and sizes. The family that flies an American flag in front of their home is a patriotic family. The guy who puts a magnetic yellow ribbon on his bumper is a patriot too. I appreciate them, but tonight I’ve been slapped in the face by the honest truth that those Americans are just doing the bare minimum. They’re taking the “patriotic low road.”
To catch our flight to Kuwait, our three busloads of Sailors arrived at the airport hanger at 0200, that’s 2 a.m. for you none military folks. There waiting for us were dozens of applauding and cheering people, most of them former military members and their spouses. I repeat; it was 2 a.m. They had American flags in hand and thanked us and patted us on the back for stepping up and going forward. These people got up in the middle of the night just to wish us well. I’m sure they were expected at work a few hours later but being there for us was more important to them than a good nights sleep.
So often you hear people complaining about how the wave of patriotism died away just a few weeks after September 11th. The reality is it never died. These “high road patriots” were carrying the torch long before those planes ever hit and they continue to do so today. As long as we have a handful of high road patriots, I’m confident our country is in good hands. Remember, it was just a handful of brave Americans who stepped forward and spit into the face of the British monarchy to form our country.
I challenge you my family and friends…take the high road.
Right now I’m somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. We’re headed to Shannon, Ireland and after a short refueling stop, it’s onto Kuwait.
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