fun for the kids

This blog is intended as a sister blog to my more introspective and spiritual insights regarding my deployment to the Middle East.  I hope it will be entertaining for my nieces and nephews, godchildren and friends…kids of all ages!

The Cadillac of the Rotary Wing Sky

23 October 2008

Hey kids!

We sat on our gear outside the T-walls (myself and a lieutenant who works with Public Affair–meeting and greeting and escorting the important visitors to the FOB) on a dusty corner across from the CCP until well after dark.  An SUV came around the corner finally and picked us up to take us to the airfield.  there are so many civilian vehicles here that are straight off the American streets–it really doesn’t feel like another country or a war–until you come out to the motor pools where they park all the military vehicles.  They even have regular fire trucks!  None of them have any extra armor on them–so you know they won’t be going anywhere outside the FOB–but it gives you a sense of how big this place (Stryker) really is!

At any rate–the young liaison officer got us out to the airfield operations center for helicopters–and it looked like Atlanta airport over Thanksgiving with delays…There were guys standing around in groups talking in frustrated voices; others laying on the ground listening to iPods or sleeping, many were hanging around outside–no one quite sure when they were ever going to get out of BIAP–Baghdad International Air Port.  Apparently there is a dust storm in the area and all air assts are grounded with all flights cancelled. But no one apparently told our LNO or operations because the sergeant keeps promising me that “the birds” (as they call them) are coming and it won’t be long.  Sure enough–with everyone around gawking in surprise, an hour later we are shuffling to the door with all our armor on–dragging bags and boxes.  We were guided out to a point and told to stand there and wait.  A large C-130 was being loaded next to us to head back to Kuwait with passengers on their way to America, and rolled away mocking us with an ear-piercing whine.  As it pulled away, two Blackhawks made a pass and returned to settle in front of us.  The gunners dismounted and came over to our group, assigned us choppers and seats, and then ordered us to load as fast as possible.  Throwing ourselves in the helo’s with all our gear, we were barely buckled in when we started to move.  A lurch, a lift, and a turn and we were hovering 30 feet up waiting for the “birds” going with us.

This was my first ride ever in a helicopter, and being as it was a Blackhawk, I was at once excited and nervous.  They are powerful and fast helicopters with big 50 caliber guns mounted on each side.  I had seen the movie “Blackhawk Down” and read the book, and although they are as safe as airplanes, I still couldn’t shake the pictures in my mind.  

Especially of concern to me was the fact that we had left my tough box–full of all my church supplies and books–because it was too heavy for this flight (apparently we were unexpected passengers–though standing on the helipad was our first notice of this!).   We loaded everything so fast, trying to get out of the way of others getting on, that we stacked it all on my side of the”bird” and clearly (looking at the weight of all on board) we were overloaded on my side by a huge amount.  If they were concerned about weight, why weren’t they concerned about balance?  It eased my mind a good bit when we stayed hovering at 30 feet for a bit while the pilot ran through some basic maneuvers.  The “bird” handled fine and away we went.  Seeing the Iraqi desert for the first time by air at night was really a neat experience–but short lived.  I call the Blackhawk the “Cadillac of the Rotary Wing Sky” because once you are strapped in, with ear plugs, the ride is so smooth and fast, I fell asleep.  In fact I almost missed the pit stop for refueling and I certainly didn’t feel the landing at FOB Echo.  Man I must certainly be behind on sleep!

His unworthy servant and yours,

Uncle Fr. Kevin

A prayer from Baghdad

22 October 2008

Hey kids!

This morning the rest of our unit caught up with us–but to make things easier and keep everyone together, we had to move tents.  My tough box full of all my church supplies is very heavy, and so I offered some soldiers a meal at Burger King if they would move it for me, and they did.  As a Captain, I could have just ordered them, but as a Chaplain I really have no command authority, and I don’t want to be abusing rank and using them for labor that is beyond their responsibility and mission.  They really are great young men beneath their sometimes hardened exteriors; very respectful and often curious about my life as a priest.

Moving to the other tent meant passing a new reality, and a sobering one at that.  A CCP is a casualty collection point, and there is one outside the walls around our new tent.  Marked by a sign on the wall with a red cross, and often with a box or closet next to it with plenty of medical supplies, these are the spots where the wounded would be brought in the event of an attack or explosion.  It has been fairly quiet here for a while–but I am sure there were days in the past where this station may have been very busy.  Sobering still is the remembrance that it was here in Baghdad where a personal priest friend, and friend of the family, was overwhelmed with the challenges of war and sought comfort in a relationship with a woman, later leaving the active ministry to be with her.  I know many remember him and pray for him–especially from the comments they have left on my blogs, cautioning me to avoid the same temptations.  He is a thought that is always on my mind for many reasons, and now here in Baghdad I feel the memory of his struggle and pray for him, as I know all of you do for me.

As if that weren’t enough for one day, on the way to dinner we heard two loud thumps–that sounded like mortars; along with 50 caliber guns and small arms fire not long after.  It is not certain that anyone was trying to do anything to us–or that we did anything back.  It could have been the EOD–guys who find bombs and then bring them back to inspect them, learn from them, and then blow them up safely; or the test fires of soldiers about to go out into the city making sure their weapons work correctly.  But here in Baghdad, outside the green zone, one can never be certain, unless one is there observing it firsthand.

On a more humorous note–a man walked past me today with a t-shirt on saying, “Who’s your Baghdaddy?”  Also–right after Mass today they said I would be leaving tonight by helicopter for Camp Echo.  Here we go!

His unworthy servant and yours,

Uncle Fr. Kevin

Concrete jungle

21 October 2008

Hey kids!

When we awoke, there was sunlight streaming in the door of the tent, and we could finally see our surroundings.  I don’t know if you remember the older tents at the last camp (or if I even told you about them), but they were smaller, covered with dust, and looked like something out of a Mad Max movie or Star Wars (the early movies).  They looked very sad and forlorn and I was glad we were not in them. Well we are now!  And while we had cement walls at Buerhing lining the roads and protecting the buildings, they were shorter and fewer, and were painted with all kinds of emblems and unit crests and insignias.  The walls here are very tall–probably about 12 feet, and they stick out at the bottom to where it forms a base, so that they can’t be knocked over.  Because of this shape they’re called T-walls, and here at Camp Stryker, they are everywhere!  In fact, when one steps around the T-wall barrier around the tents, he steps out into a gray-walled world with little to see except the dirt road and the sky–and often nothing to tell you what is behind the walls you are passing.  It can be very depressing–life with few colors except brown/tan, gray, and smoggy-sky blue.  These walls are necessary, as they protect us from the mortars that the enemy shoots into the camp.  Mortars are like bombs that you shoot a long way and when they land, they explode.  The walls help to trap the explosion and block it from hitting more people.

But then you start to explore behind the T-wall barriers and (lo-and-behold!) we are in the big city!   There are thousands of soldiers here, either working hard or waiting for rides deeper into Iraq, or back to America.  The dining hall is huge–and has more options and offerings than Buerhing could imagine!  I suppose that early morning PT is important to keep from getting fat!  And then there is Burger King, Pizza Hut, and Green Beans (my new favorite!)!  Mind you–these are not sit down restaurants; they are trailers that cook food that is much like the ones back home, but different.  And it is all to be eaten on picnic benches out front.  The PX store has stereos and all kinds of electronic equipment, as well as clothes, t-shirts, shoes, etc.  The chapel is a real chapel–not just a double-wide trailer as at Buerhing–and greatest of all, there are trees!  You can only see them from certain spots, but there is a whole grove with a watch tower not too far away.  I’d love to go and explore but they said to stay close because we may be moving again soon.  There is a laundry here that is much faster than the one at Buerhing, so I was able to get laundry done finally, and put on some fresh clothes after a long hot shower.  Oh yeah–no more 15 gallon limit here…Yes!  

Mass was interesting.  I went to the chapel and asked to say Mass.  The sergeant there had grown up Catholic, but is not a practicing Catholic today (as so many people in the Army), so he understood and began helping me with arrangements.  His assistant was clearly befuddled.  “You want to say Mass, on a weekday, with no one here but you?”  There is no daily Mass scheduled here–big as this base is–and I suppose he had never thought about the reason for praising and glorifying God in solemn prayer every day–whether anyone else is doing it or not.  The word Eucharist means “thanksgiving”.  As the holiday of Thanksgiving approaches, we take time to think about what we are thankful for; and it always seems that, because of the joy and warmth of the season kicked off by Thanksgiving, someone always remarks that we should be more thankful all throughout the year and not just a Thursday in November.  Well, daily Mass is a way of saying “Hey! Thanks God for an amazing and wonderful day!”  It also recharges us with the love of God for each other, and we can always use more of that!  Besides that, the readings each day have been amazingly powerful with much to think about.

At dinner this evening, I had a grilled Panini–better than Atlanta Bread Company, because I could chose the ingredients and how many of each…man God is good!  Hope your days are going well!

His unworthy servant and yours,

Uncle Fr. Kevin

On to Baghdad!

20 October 2008

Hey kids!

Well today I got the call–we move to Baghdad!  I feel like a pitcher who has been sitting in the minor leagues and just got the call to go to the majors!  I ate a real big lunch with my priest friend, partly because I didn’t know when I would eat next, and partly because I didn’t know what I would eat next!  Baghdad is a war zone and I didn’t know what to expect there.  Would they have the sandwich bar, the salad bar, the pasta bar every day?  Would they have the 4 or 5 flavors of Baskin Robbins  ice cream?

I got back to my tent, after saying goodbye to Fr. Villanueva, and found that my unit was not moving–just me and a lieutenant that works for brigade–along with another unit I didn’t know.  We loaded up our stuff on to trucks, then hopped on the bus–with our full armor on: helmet, body armor vest, eye protection, and gloves.  You can ask the Bernard twins how heavy the vest is–they tried it on!  However, when we got to Kuwait they gave us a new one that works the same for protection–but goes on differently.  Its a little easier to wear and is really cool in an emergency.  It has a nifty trick that makes it come off really fast!

So we got to the airport and had to put all of our bags on platforms and then tie them down with a net because we were going to fly on a huge plane; a C-130!  This plane is made for flying tanks and trucks and any other equipment any where it is needed.  They open up the tail end of the plane and it becomes a ramp to drive the vehicles right into the plane.  But on these flights they have rows of seats they can lock in to the floor–and then load our bags behind us using a fork lift.  I hope to send you some pictures.  We fly at night for added protection and probably better weather.  Everything is done very fast so the planes and helicopters are not on the ground that long.  We landed in Baghdad late (or should I say early!) and then had to find the person who would show us to our tent for sleep.  Again we had to load up on trucks and busses, and when we finally got to our cots and could sleep–it was time for everyone else around us to get up and do PT (physical training).  The shouts and cadences were already beginning and told us there were a lot of people here; but since it was dark and we were surrounded by massive walls of concrete, it was hard to tell how many–and where exactly we were….

His unworthy servant and yours,

Uncle Fr. Kevin

Tradition; tradition!

19 October 2008

Hey kids!

Well, as you know, I am still learning so much about the Army and all of its traditions.  Some are very old in their history and some are new–but all of them help make the Army (or any other military institution) the disciplined, ordered and respected band of brothers that it is today.  The first such tradition you will often see when around the military is the salute.  This is when an enlisted soldier or an officer of a lower rank greets an officer of a higher rank by raising their right hand to the outside corner of their right eye, or some to the edge of the bill of their cover–a military name for the hat we wear.  The salute seems to be a derivative of the medieval raising of one’s right hand to show that you hold no weapon or malice toward the approaching knight or the knight you are approaching.  The salute is a sign of respect–and must be held and maintained until the higher ranking officer salutes back and drops his hand.  This action is often accompanied by a greeting; either the greeting of the day (such as “Good morning, sir”), or the motto of one’s company or battalion (such as “First at Normandy!”).  If a motto is given, the officer ought to respond with the correct response (such as “Move Forward!”), otherwise he responds with a greeting of his own.  As a captain walking around Camp Buerhing, I am amongst many enlisted and thus am being saluted every time I turn around.  But the greetings and mottos are all “last minute”–said as the soldier is just passing me by–with no time to decide and speak the appropriate answer. Needless to say, I have butchered many an interchange with the soldiers wondering (I am sure), “What is wrong with that Captain?”

Another tradition is the bugle call.  Just like the oldies song Aunt Kathy used to sing about the “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy of Company C”, the Army still uses bugle calls to tell it’s soldiers what is going on and where they should be at that time.  Whenever reveille plays–which is the first call of the morning–when they raise the flag–we are all to stop, face the flagpole, stand at attention and salute.  If you are driving, you have to stop your car and get out.  The same is done at retreat–played around sundown when the flag comes down.  The last call in the night is taps–which is really a prayer: Day is done, gone the sun, from the lakes, from the hills from the sky; all is well, safely rest, God is nigh.  It is played at funerals in the military, and each night it reminds us of those who gave their lives that day somewhere in the world–and reminds us to pray for them and their families.  

At Camp Buerhing here in Kuwait, they have yet another tradition: apparently the unit responsible for running the camp is part of “Patton’s Own”–the unit General Patton commanded in World War II, and so they play the music from the movie “Patton” every morning after reveille–a joyful little march that puts a bit of vigor in your step and gets you going for the day!

Its still hot–but not as much as when my unit came through a couple of weeks ago.  However, they say it will be cooler in Iraq.  Apparently Kuwait is the 2nd hottest country in the world…I didn’t know that!  Hope all is well and I get to talk to you soon!

His unworthy servant and yours,

Uncle Fr. Kevin

Eden: An Oasis?

18 October 2008

Hey kids!

Okay, so here’s a thought: if Eden was in between the Tigris and Euphrates in Iraq, and Adam and Eve were kicked out of the garden for sin, where did they go?  It’s all desert here!  What a change that must have been–to go from a beautiful, luscious paradise with fruit on every tree and the opportunity to take a dip in one of four rivers and walk with God in the cool of the day–to this!  There are no trees (or grass for that matter), no water, and no cool of the day!  I can’t say no God–because He is everywhere…but you get the picture.

This morning as I try to do every Saturday, I got up early and went out to do some LSD–that’s Long, Slow, Distance…as in running.  I jogged out to Eisenhower Road (the only blacktop road on post) and prepared to run, but, I must admit, I was not very motivated.  So I jumped in with a squad doing PT, asking their sergeant if I could.  With his permission I completed their warm-up, and took off on their run.  As it turned out, they were not that high speed, and I spent more time motivating them than they me.  But it was a really good warm up, and I helped one of their guys go farther and faster than he had gone before.  The sense of accomplishment was contagious and with that I took off for more, and tried to connect with a couple of other groups but they weren’t going fast enough either–so I struck out on my own, going up and down the length of Eisenhower twice, running for a grand total of an hour.  Later I measured it out in the Durango and found that it was at least 6.2 miles, and more than likely more.  I miss my LSD buddy from chaplain school, but he’s in Germany now, where I hope to catch up with him before I head home at the end of this tour.

After a shower and breakfast I went over to the Green Bean cafe to grab my weekly cup of Chai tea and write my blogs.  It is a great little coffee shop–a little rustic but not too unlike a Starbuck’s back home.  However, they play local music which is not my most favorite to listen to.  So I popped out my iPhone, which–although the phone service has been cut off–still works as an iTouch (thanks Kernan’s!) and I cranked up the iPod function to listen to some Vivaldi.  When I bought my computer, a friend of mine talked me into some more expensive earphones I probably would not have bought on my own–but after this experience I am so grateful.  They completely block out all other noise even though they are so small–and thus you only have to have the volume at the lowest setting and you hear all you want and need!  (Thanks so much, Fr. Tran!)

Finally I went to the chapel for the evening Mass, and ran into Chaplain Vega, the eldest member of our chaplain class this summer (CH-BOLC 08-002).  That makes three of us now serving in OIF VII or VIII–whichever this may be.  OIF stands for Operation Iraqi Freedom, and the number indicates the year or wave of troops.  Nobody in our group is 100% sure which number we are.  Soon we will be adding a fourth classmate as CH Montes comes over.  Looks like they really needed us out here!

Thanks for all your prayers and support.  It’s good to know you all are enjoying these updates!

His unworthy servant and yours,

Uncle Fr. Kevin

cruisin’ Kuwaiti style

17 October 2008

Hey kids!  

Well it is Friday-and there was no unit training scheduled today, so I thought I would run down to the daily chaplain training and then try to get caught up on my blogs–as you probably figured out already, I’m a little bit behind!  Well today, as we waited for the training to begin, the computer went into power save, and the chaplain’s photo slide show from his screen saver began.  I never thought that photos taken from the passenger seat of a car driving down a rainy highway with a thick green, grass median would be so entrancing–but water and green are luxuries here!  Another photo showed a pier jutting out into a bay of water.  It looked like it might be the Persian Gulf–but it was water and satisfying none the less!

Following our class on ten tough realities of combat, I went over to the chapel for Mass, preceded by the rosary.  I’ll be honest with you–I have tried to pray the rosary often–but often it was behind the wheel of the car which then took a lot of my attention away from the prayer itself; or the prayer would cause me to start to get sleepy–which isn’t good to do while driving!  So the rosary has been a challenge for me–but a challenge is what I have made it for this deployment–to pray one every day, and most of the time it is right in the Eucharistic chapel here.  A good friend of mine who was over here in the earlier days of the war, set a time to pray the rosary with his family and friends back home.  It was a great way to stay united in prayer.  When I get to Iraq and am on some kind of schedule, I’ll let you know if there is a time we can pray together across the miles!

After that is Mass, and after Mass, lunch!  I have been going with Fr. Villanueva and CH King, and we have had great conversations.  Today I decided to try to get some specific advice on Fridays as penitential days.  How does one do a penitential day in a war zone?  I remember ancient Israel would fast all day and then fight, and they seemed to do okay.  However, with modern weapons and the speed of the equipment, etc., if I can’t keep up and carry my weight, it could be trouble for my men.  So how does one do penance in a place where everyday is penitential to one degree or another?  I’m not really sure if we resolved that one–but I’ll keep trying to figure one out.  After all, remembering every Friday as a mini-Good Friday is important to remembering every Sunday as a mini-Easter!

After lunch, Fr. Villanueva gave me (and the laundry he had done for me!) a ride home in his brand new government-issued Dodge Durango.  I asked him if he had tried the radio yet–which he hadn’t.  Imagine the surprise when we found the entire upper half of the radio dial was English channels from the BBC and the Armed Forces to old school rap!  I think it certainly shocked my troops when I pulled up outside the tent with the windows down and the base thumping!  Just wanted to brighten their day and keep them guessing!

I tried to get to work more on the blogs–but the lieutenant came and grabbed me for another workout in the gym.  My arms had yet to recover from the one two days ago, but that was quickly ignored, and circumvented by a focus on shoulder and back muscles.   Man I don’t want to get big!

I did almost go on a “field trip”.  Fr. V. was going to say Mass at Camp Arifjan an hour and a half away.  He wanted me to come with him, but there are all kinds of policies and memos and red tape that would have to be dealt with first for me to leave–and my unit is under strict orders not to allow me to be at risk if I don’t have to be.  So until we move north, I stay put.

I love you guys and hope to talk with you soon.  Leave me some questions you may have and I’ll try to answer them. God be with you all and keep you holy!

His unworthy servant and yours,

Uncle Fr. Kevin