Not the famed Chicago Bears football player, but a Google Fridge that Dan Perry is giving away over at his place. How to win said fridge? Dan and a panel of judges will pick the best blog (essay) outlining why the author should win the fridge. I’m in…
The portable Google Fridge would come in very handy for my soldiers going outside the wire on patrol in our AO. Granted, it is a bit chilly this time of year, but last summer saw the mercury rise to over 120 degrees, and since we’re on the 15-month plan, this upcoming summer will undoubtedly see the same.
I’ve had the opportunity to put on all of our combat gear, affectionately known as “full battle rattle” and climb into an uparmored humvee and hit the streets of Iraq with your brave warriors. While there is not a shortage of bottled water over here, it is often hard to find a COLD bottle of water. How cool (pun intended) would it be to have a portable fridge inside one of our uparmored chariots filled with water bottles so that at the patrol’s end, the soldiers can enjoy a cold one?
And if that’s not enough to convince the judges, the fridge would be stocked with beer upon our return to the states so these great heroes could again enjoy a cold one after a long, hot, and dusty tour in the desert.
Up at zero four. It was the coldest morning yet, 17 degrees on the FAT gauge. Two cups of jo in the hooch then out to the flightline, a RON bag on my shoulder, just in case. The UH60 Blackhawk had “maintenance issues” so we moved to the back-up aircraft. Then to the back-up to the back-up. We took off just as the sun was rising. The turning rotors created a wind chill factor stinging my face. I sat next to the door gunner. I like the view.
Our first stop was a small FOB where a handful of my soldiers man a 24-hour FARP. The FOB wasn’t much bigger than a football field and sat smack dab in the middle of what used to be a bad neighborhood, not so much anymore. I visited with the troops, handed out stockings, cards and gifts that had been mailed from wonderful supporters back home. The soldiers were appreciative. I appreciate the soldiers and told them so. We would repeat this for the remainder of the day. Our last stop was a larger FOB not far from Mosul where an armful of my soldiers work ‘round the clock repairing OH58 Kiowa Warriors. I spent a couple of hours with them talking about what they do, how their families were fairing back home, and making sure they were well taken care of by the unit they supported. They too appreciated the stockings, cards and gifts from home. They too make me proud and I told them as much.
On the way back a member of the crew spotted suspicious activity in a small village along our route. We circled back around to take a closer look. Nothing to report. We landed back at our FOB, our home away from home, just as the sun was setting. I grabbed a bite to eat at the DFAC before heading out to visit with the night crews working in the AHA, JNN, SSA, FARP, BAS, and hangars. Morale was high despite having to work on a cold Christmas Eve so far away from their families. The moon was full, the air crisp, and there was something special about the night, you could feel it.
Next stop was the chapel where one of my soldiers had invited me to witness his baptism. How cool to be baptized on Christmas Eve in Iraq? I had time to visit with the various company CPs and the BN TOC wishing those working the night shift a Merry Christmas and thanking them for what they do. Next I stopped into the BN MWR tent checking to make sure the 8 telephones and 20 computer terminals were all occupied by soldiers connecting with home. They were. The day ended with Midnight Mass at the main chapel. I was tired and headed to my hooch to get some shuteye. While walking home I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw what looked like a sleigh being pulled by flying reindeer pass overhead in the moonlight. I guess I was tired. A good kind of tired.
The day of…
I again traveled around the AO, this time in a truck, visiting those working on Christmas day, shaking hands, patting backs, talking about home and thanking each and every one of them. I’m sure that I wasn’t able to see every one of my 700+ soldiers, but I think that I came pretty damn close before reporting to the DFAC for the holiday feast. Donning plastic gloves and a Santa hat, I began to serve turkey, ham, potatoes, gravy, etc. to your hard working soldiers. It was an honor to do so.
After supper I attended a reenlistment ceremony for six of my soldiers. The commanding general of MND-N came down to administer the oath of enlistment. How cool to reenlist on Christmas Day with the CG in Iraq? Following the ceremony I enjoyed a big fat cigar with my fellow senior leaders, watching the sun set over the desert.
I was able to get a call through to home and listened with a warm heart to Castaway Conner excitedly regale me with tales of what Santa had brought him. A tear came to eye when before passing the phone to his mom, as if he suddenly remembered to ask said, “Dad, what did you get?” Aside from missing my merry band of pirates and the lovely and talented and downright sexy Mrs. Hook, it was a good holiday for this old soldier. How cool to spend Christmas with a bunch of real heroes serving in Iraq? Sgt Hook out.
It was late. Sometime between 2300 and midnight I think. I was walking back to my hooch, tired. It was dark. The desert is much like the ocean at night, very dark. Suddenly the sky lit up, briefly, for only a split second before returning to dark. It was lightning. The first I’ve seen since arriving. I hadn’t noticed earlier, but there was a thick haze of dust floating in the air. The wind was kicking up. Another flash of lightning. I could see, briefly, across miles of desert floor. Then it turned black again.
I could smell the rain. And I could smell the lightning. The rain didn’t have that familiar fresh scent. It smelled different. Maybe mixing with the floating dust and flashes of static electricity changed its smell. The wind caressed my face, lightning flashed overhead, and I felt the first cool drops of rain dance down onto me. It was the first rainfall I’ve experienced since arriving.
The storm left as quick as it came, passing without much fanfare. It was interesting, that desert storm. Sgt Hook out.
I missed this movie when it was in theaters last summer. As I recall, I was a little busy at the time getting ready to deploy with my unit to the sandbox. I have it on good authority, however, that it is now out on DVD.
On September 15, 1994 while stationed in Italy I was invited by some friends to attend an outdoor concert put on by a band called Pink Floyd. Having turned 30 years of age just a few months previously and unsure of what life after 30 might bring, I decided to go. My buddies and I managed to get off work a little early that afternoon, changed into civilian clothes and hopped into the Jeep for the hour long drive north to Udine. Arriving at the Stadio Friuli a few hours before show time, we grabbed a bite to eat at a nearby trattoria, washing it down with a few beers of course.
Our spirits quickly dampened as we left the restaurant realizing it had started to rain. Not to be discouraged, we happily waited in line to enter the uncovered stadium as the sun set behind the dark, drizzling clouds. Once inside, we raised our spirits a bit more with a couple cold beers, hardly wondering if the rain would stop. After another hour of waiting and damn near soaked to the bone, I recall a feeling of disappointment starting to come over me when a melodic strum of a guitar lept from the dark stage, piercing the conversations around me. I looked to the heavens while the mysterious guitar continued singing poetically and marveled at the parting of the clouds, revealing an almost full moon and ending the falling rain when suddenly the stage erupted with lights, drums, and rock and roll.
Hands down, that was the best concert I’ve ever attended. Shine on you crazy diamond. Sgt Hook out.
I had the opportunity to watch a little television tonight, two shows in fact. First I caught The Unit on CBS and was very impressed with this week’s episode. Granted, there was bit of entertainment sprinkled in, but overall I thought Eric Haney and crew did an outstanding job of depicting combat and how different personnel handle it.
Then, while flipping through the guide, I noticed ABC was airing a show that caught my eye, To Iraq and Back: Bob Woodruff Reports. So I stayed up and watched. I quickly found myself riveted to the television, following Bob Woodruff’s story of how he was injured while on a patrol in Iraq and then moved by his compassion for the many Soldiers who have suffered injuries similar to his. There was some criticism of, and frustrations with, the Veteran’s Administration for the managing of care for some of our wounded warriors but I thought the discussion healthy. Again, I think that ABC did a good job of telling the story and sharing the challenges that our wounded warriors and their families face when they come home seriously injured.
It’s back to Fox News and Captain Kangaroo for the rest of the week. Sgt Hook out.
This site is a collection of my writings, thoughts, and ramblings and in no way reflects the official positions of the United States Army or the Department of Defense. OPSEC trumps everything.
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In view of a recent tendency to identify characters in fiction with real people, it seems proper to state that there are no real people in this volume: both the characters and their names are ficticious. The names or designations of any military units are ficticious. There are no living people nor existing military units presented in this book.
-Ernest Hemingway
Halfway down the road to hell,
In a shady meadow green,
Are the souls of all dead troopers camped
Near a good old-time canteen.
And this eternal resting place
Is known as Fiddler's Green.
-Author Unknown
The Blog of War
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