Home!

I am home and in my bed in San Diego and all is right with the world. Now to unpack my bags and get things back to normal...

More to come, but just wanted to let everyone know the good news.

So we meet again...

Kuwait - last time I was here it was, as I described it, like having your face in front of a hair dryer on turbo overdrive while someone threw sand at you... That, combined with the fact that I was only at the beginning of my journey, made for a less than stellar impression of the place.

Now, some six months later, I am back. The weather is much milder, and the sand is either less prevalent, or I have just become accustomed to it. Any way you slice it, Kuwait is a much better place. All that, combined with the fact that I am on my way home, and things are looking up. My bed seems comfortable, and I have turned in my weapons so I don't have to worry about that.

I will say, to that point, that not having a pistol or rifle with me 24/7 is going to take a lot of getting used to. I feel naked and have panicked at least a few times thinking that I have lost it, and I only turned it in an hour ago. I imagine re-learning how to be a normal human being will take some time...

I will be here for a few days doing "Warrior Transition", where they supposedly help us with the whole re-learning process. I have heard it is not the greatest use of time, but if it's a wicket between me and home, then I am more than happy to do whatever they ask!

Gone!

I'm hesitant to say it but this should be my last post from Afghanistan. Next stop - Kuwait, where I get to spend two fun filled days learning about PTSD and why I shouldn't beat my wife.

The past few days have been incredibly boring, as my relief has assumed control of the job and there wasn't much for me to do. The open bay barracks is always noisy, and the bed has springs that collapse sideways under the lightest loads. In short - not the best place to hang out. I hear I will have even fewer productive things to do it Kuwait, so I imagine it will be terribly mind numbing. But before I complain too much, it's the final step in my process to return home.

Saturday evening I should be getting off a plane and greeted by my parents and friends. It stands to be one of the best Saturdays in a LONG time...

The Breakup

Dear Afghanistan,

This is hard for me to say, but I feel that the time has come and this is the best choice for both of us.  I am leaving you.  The decision is final, so please don't try to change my mind.  We had some good times over the past 6 months, and we made some great memories that I know I won't soon forget, but even the best of times cannot hide the fact that we just weren't made for each other.  It is time for you to start seeing new Seabees, and I have to admit that I've been flirting with my old flame, America; we're going to be getting back together.  Sure, she has her problems too, but Afghanistan - you are far too volitile for me.  I can no longer spend my nights in bunkers because of your explosive personality or cary a weapon in case you decide to have a mood swing.

 

I hope that one day you blossom into a beautiful country and we can get past this part of our lives, but I don't know if that will be happening any time soon.  Good luck, and keep your chin up.

 

I will be packing my stuff up this week and moving in with our friend Kuwait for a few days until I can get back on my feet with America.  Please don't do anything rash in the mean time - we can both be adults about this.

 

With Love,

-Kevin

Hearts and Minds...

During a flight shortly after I first got here, we had stopped off at a small outpost in the middle of a town to drop off supplies and personnel.  As we were taking off, I watched the village below me.  I saw a young boy, probably no more than 10 years old, throw a rock at the helicopter despite our being well outside his feeble range.  It was an image that stuck with me, and was renewed in my mind this week. 

 

After returning from another mission off base, I was riding back to our office from the flight line in our van.  The road connecting the two areas passes along the inside of the perimeter fence.  It is not uncommon to see people on the other side of the fence grazing their camels and goats, or simply milling about.  Security issues aside, it has become common enough to not cause alarm.  This time, as we rounded a turn, there were again herdsmen on the other side of the fence.  As we made the turn, a young boy, not yet a teen, threw a bottle of water at our vehicle, successfully drenching the side.

 

So it would seem, in my minimal interaction with the local populous, that we (the military) are not too well liked here.  I can't say I would be too fond of an occupying force taking over small towns in the US, so I can't say that I blame them.  But with our primary goal of winning hearts and minds, I'm not sure if we're succeeding.  Young children are hardly our primary concern, despite the fact that 10-12 is not too far from old enough to be a fighter.  But children grow up, and their thoughts and memories stay with them as they grow...  Are we really winning their hearts and minds, or was this simply a case of children being children, throwing rocks at cars and causing mischief for the simple sake of causing mischief?

 

I hope the latter, otherwise we will be living and fighting and dying in this place for many more years.  And considering we had rocket attack #24 in the middle of my writing this post, I think it's time to leave for good.

Countdown

Today marks the date that I can safely say I will be back to the United States in a month or less. I hesitate to say it, because the world has a way of screwing with plans, but I'm going for it. Less than a month... and I'll be 10,000 miles away from any of this, and yet I have a sinking suspicion that the actuality will be that much of this place will stay with me for quite some time. Some good things, some bad things, and many things in between.

My understanding of the plans for my return are that my parents will meet me in Port Hueneme along with Brian & Elke, my best friends in San Diego. We'll head back to San Diego for the 72-96 hour liberty and my only goal is to relax, sleep a full nights rest, and not have to worry about anything at all. I'll get to pick up my Jeep and motorcycle and check on the boat, and move all of the new Jeep parts out of Brian's garage into mine.

After the short break in San Diego I'll be back up in Port Hueneme to check out of the NCR and go through the demobilization process. Medical checkups, paperwork, returning all my gear, and probably a bunch of sitting around waiting for bureaucracy just like when I came out here. Then it's all done and I can start my terminal leave. As a Reservist I don't get to keep my vacation time earned while I was out here so I can either sell out for a lump sum or take the time, which will be about a month. I'm definitely taking the time off!!!

Anna flys in from Chicago right around when my demobilization process ends and we're going to the Seabee Ball up in Port Hueneme. It'll be good to see everyone and meet all of the families and wives and girlfriends that I have heard so much about over the past 6 months. I'm sure there will be plenty of shared memories, sea-stories, and drinks. The Ball is at the Reagan library in Simi Valley, which is apparently a very swank location and quite the classy affair. Luckily I'll have a few more medals to pin on my uniform from this deployment so I won't look so out-of-place among the rest of the group.

From there, it's just time off in San Diego. Working on the Jeep, spending the day out on the bay, or lounging around in my pajamas all day - no rocket attacks, no weapon to worry about, no deadlines, no one telling me what to do or how to do it, no need to worry about who or what is around the next corner. It's going to be nice... very nice.

And then it's back to "real life" as though none of this had ever happened... That may be an entire blog of its own...

The well runs dry...

Marine Corps Colonel B.P. McCoy wrote an excellent and moving book titled "The Passion of Command". For anyone who wants to know what it truly means to be a leader of men in the context of combat and military operations, look no further than this book. It is raw and unforgiving, and best I can tell it is true. But this is not a plug, simply a prelude...

COL McCoy writes about the "Well of Fortitude", where commanders and soldiers alike must go within themselves to find the strength to go on, to find the willpower to keep up the seemingly impossible pace that we are asked and expected to maintain. One goes to this well to draw from to muster up the energy and courage to keep up with their duties, and I fear mine is running dry...

The past week has been particularly tough, with an accumulation of disappointments, let downs, changed directives, run-arounds, and all together hassle. Some self inflicted, some out of my control, but all of it emotionally and physically taxing. I have taken my first personal time off since I've been here, to lay at home and close my eyes with the hopes that things will be different when I open them again.

There's only a few weeks left... It would be too easy to give up now and let the rest of my deployment coast from the momentum of all the hard work I've put in up to now. I'm too proud to let that happen, and my selfishness would only serve to hurt those depending on me.

As life tends to do in these situations, the hits keep coming... The cable to my laptop appears to have given up the ghost and my battery is near dead. I will MacGyver it the best I can, as anyone who knows me would expect. Some bubble gum, a hamster wheel, and a little luck and I'll be back before you know it.

What's that taste?

It's the taste of home... so close... In a month I will either be beyond crazy with trying to finish my transition, or completely laid back due to having already turned over all my work. Either way, it wont matter as I'll almost be home.

Planning for returning is exciting, but still a bit stressful. All those things I spent time putting on hold when I left, I now have to start back up. My vehicle registration has lapsed, my car insurance needs to be beefed up to "driving" standards, etc etc etc. I have to ship home all the awesome gifts people have sent me while out here, and the collection of those that I purchased while here. On the plus side, at home I have a bed and house and friends and no real need to worry about all of this right off the bat because it's familiar.

At least, I hope it's familiar. I wonder how much can really change in six months? A few of my friends have new significant others, so there are new members of my friend pool that I may consider outsiders, but at the same time will consider me the same. I'm sure inside jokes will have come and gone and come again, and it will take time to get back into the swing of things. People will have changed, locations will have changed, even the general culture will have changed. Avatar is apparently the biggest movie since Gone With the Wind, and I have zero idea what it's about other than it's some sci-fi flick that everyone seems to love (including my parents). So adjusting will be tough, but I think my life has custom-tailored me to these situations.

Having close to a month off (paid) won't be too bad, either.

Know Thy Audience

So at random times throughout my time of posting this blog, people have told me about how they read it, and how they have friends who read it, and how their friend's chihuahua reads it. It begs the question - who actually takes the time to read what I'm writing. Originally this was intended as a way to communicate with friends and family on the initial assumption that I may not have regular access to email and this might be the only way. That has long since been proven false, but I still post, and people still read, and it seems to be a happy medium. But the question of who, and even how, still comes to me from time to time.

So the persistent nag of curiosity has gotten the better of me and I have to ask - who are you, and how did you come to be reading this today? Does my blog show up on google searches, or is it a more logical and traceable "6 degrees of Me" kind of thing?

Below this post, there is a link that says "comment", which allows for feedback and, well, comments. If you have made it this far, and I can assume you've read other posts, and you have the time and motivation - go ahead and let me know the who and the how. I must say, this is not a narcissistic ploy in disguise, I am not looking for compliments or reviews, although you're always welcome to say what you think.

Will it change anything I write about? Probably not. I'm still here, and I'm still going to be as honest as I can about what's going on around me. I'm just curious... who am I really writing to.

Thank you.