Curiouser and Curiouser…

In our last less than exciting episode, our intrepid hero had left the dreaded CRC and was winging his way to Ali Al Salem, Kuwait (I call it the Black Pit of the Middle East. Read on and you’ll find out why) This is the US gateway into theater, whether it be Iraq, Afghanistan, or any other country in SWA (Southwest Asia…yeah, I know…) This is where you are dumped off, get your bags and sent on your merry way to your final destination. It’s been my experience that the place is a fucking pit of despair and human drama. It’s almost like you get swallowed up by it when you get there. Allow me to explain. You are expected to get a flight to wherever you are going to. Now, this could mean you might have to wait only a few hours, or a few days or in the case of a contractor who was waiting for what’s called country clearance , a few weeks. Yes, I said weeks. Housing is in tents. It’s not bad by any stretch, they’re heated/ air conditioned…BUT…this is where the fun stops and the time warp begins. Because the way they’re designed, the tents also act as a real life Pitch Black (remember the movie? No light?) But in this case, no Vin Diesel or Claudia Black (drool…) All time comes to a screeching halt when some jackass decides to turn out the lights. I’m all for sleeping in total dark, it’s my preferred method. But, in transient housing at Ali Al Salem. It becomes hazardous to your health. Think bunk beds, think long fall to the concrete floor, think snapped limbs…yeah, not pleasant. Anyway, I’ve spent enough time on that. Suffice it to say, we spent almost 2 fun filled days in the Ninth Circle of Hell.

FINALLY…FINALLY…FINALLY…after, spending waaay too much moiney at Cyber Zone and at AT&T call center ( fucking rip off. 550 minute cards last about 120 minutes, WTF???) we got a flight to Balad Air Base and off we went

Ahhh Balad…the sights, the sounds, the burn pits. I knew I was on the ground at Balad when I got a whiff of that oh so pleasant smell of the burn pits (yeah, they’re all over theater). It reminds me of burning…think of something pungent. Regardless, it’s nasty. K, New York has NOTHING on Balad.

We got a lift from the airfield and dropped off at our shop. We found out we would be moving on to Baghdad (hooray…) in a few days, but in the mean time we would be staying put. We were given our choice of temporary housing. Either one was less than stellar. On the one hand, we had barracks like accommodations…not happening. Fuck squad bay living. The alternative was staying at the shop. We would have to walk to get a shower, but at least it wasn’t packed. Greg and I chose the latter of the two….let me make a uick suggestion. If you don’t have to live in a dusty warehouse…DON’T!!!! My chest and sinuses think that wheezing is the preferred method of breathing. Thankfully, I got to stay in a CHU (Containerized Housing Unit…don’t ask) for the last two days and my breathing is markedly better.

As if now, I’m waiting at the Catfish Air Terminal at Balad waiting to get a flight to COB Speicher. Hooray for escort duty. And it looks like I’ll be waiting for a while. Hopefully, my next installment will be from Baghdad. Hope springs eternal, but I think that’s a crock of shit at times like this.

Munk