Everyone is getting ready for the release of these pictures of detainees being mistreated. http://www.breitbart.com/article.php?id=CNG.13d3a2fbfc306c176c00483f74ae99a8.1291&show_article=1

It's like basic training, when one guy messes up, everyone gets punished. We were in Iraq when Haditha http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haditha_killings broke, and the retaliation was evident and aimed at soldiers who had nothing to do with the wrong doing.

I remember it like it was yesterday; a group of us were sitting in our make shift chow hall watching the Armed Forces network when the anchor began laying out the killings in Haditha. We all looked at each other and began lament the backlash that we were sure was to come. Backlash is a mild way to put it. It was more like a tidal wave. Hopefully we don't get more of that.

Today we went up for our first flight in the Middle East. I wish I could say that we completed our training, but upon take off, a cloud of sand dropped down on us causing us to land prematurely. A sandstorm ensued and that was the end of flying for me for the day.
Our crew consisted of Crew Chief Bruce Lee Kleckner (no he wasn't named after the famous kung fu star, but he loves it when you joke about it, so feel free to facebook him and leave jokes on his wall) and our Platoon Sergeant and boss, Steve Shirk. SFC Shirk was responsible for my RL (readiness level) progression throughout Fort Sill. Both of these guys have been deployed overseas in various capacities and are well experienced as are the majority of the troops.
The tent is getting a little tight. Whenever I feel like complaining about our conditions, I generally consider Viet Nam and World War II. Who am I to complain about our camp in Kuwait when we have a Starbucks, Taco Bell, Burger King and all other types of American joints as well as airconditioning in our tent? I think about my Uncle Larry who was a Marine in I Corps in Viet Nam being attacked by flies in some Godforsaken jungle, my Great-uncle George jumping from a plane into Normandy in June of 1944, or my Great-uncle Dominic in the heat of North Africa with Patton's 3rd Army. These men help me to put things in persepctive. We don't have it that bad here.
This kind of thinking actutally helps me when I'm home to appreciate the things we have. My Uncle Larry who I mentioned above passed away from agent orange poisoning in 2000, but he would always tell me that "freedom has a flavor for those who fought for it, that the protected will never know." I guess when people tell me that I have an ability to "not sweat the small stuff" it's because of this type of thinking. Military life certainly has shown me the contrast between the way some people live, and the way we live. It drives home how good we have it, how much we should appreciate it, and how hard we should all fight for it.
If there is a song that describes the plight of our unit it would be "The Legionnaire's Lament" by a British band called the Decemberists. If they could change the lyrics from missing Paris and the Siene River to missing Delco and Ridley Lake, then it would about fit me closely. The lyrics adequately approach the missing of home, but unlike the protagonist in this song, I'm sure I'll be back again.
Hear it here : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eOc1mn-4EzE

I'm a legionnaire
Camel in disrepair
hoping for a frigidaire
to come passing by
I am on reprieve
lacking my joie de vive
missing my gay paris
in this desert dry

And I wrote my girl
told her I would not return
I've terribly taken a turn
for the worst now I fear

Its been a year or more
since they shipped me to this foreign shore
fighting in a foreign war
so far away from my home

If only summer rain would fall
on the houses and the boulevards
and the side walk bagatelles it's like a dream
with the roar of cars
and the lulling of the cafe bars,
the sweetly sleeping sweeping of the Seine.
Lord I don't know if I'll ever be back again.

la la la la dam
la la la low

Medicating in the sun
pinched doses of laudanum
longing for the old fecundity of my homeland
Curses to this mirage!
A bottle of ancient Shiraz
a smattering of distant applause
is ringing in my poor ears

On the old left bank
my baby in a charabanc
riding up the width and length
of the Champs Elysees

If only summer rain would fall
on the houses and the boulevard
and the side walk bagatelles it's like a dream
with the roar of cars
and the lulling of the cafe bars
the sweetly sleeping sweeping of the Seine
Lord I don't know if I'll ever be back again

If only summer rain would fall
on the houses and the boulevard
and the side walk bagatelles its like a dream
with the roar of cars
and the lulling of the cafe bars
the sweetly sleeping sweeping of the Seine
Lord I don't know if I'll ever be back again...
be back again,
be back again,
I'll be back again

Sorry about the delay in posting. We are in Kuwait and I have to be careful about discussing our movements. One thing I am at liberty to discuss is the chow. We have eggs to order in the morning, and lobster at night. Yes, you read that right. There is lobster in army dining facilities in Kuwait.

Lobster.

The food that usually scares me away due to the forbidding “market price” cost on most menus is being fed to American Soldiers in the Middle East. I don’t know if General Patton is incredibly proud or spinning in his grave. Either way, you will not hear any complaining from me about the chow. The living conditions are tough, but are temporary. We packed into tents, about 70 of us in each one. Although privacy is non existent, there are some good points, namely the gym.

I am proposing that they change the name of Kuwait to “you-wait” since that’s pretty much our plan for the coming days.

Although there has been some violence in Iraq recently, here is some good news : http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5ik_Fiq2l77tFUTDx6GeXMo6d2UdQD97N0D080