Tag: bosnia

The images and voices of the original Star Wars keeping running through my brain, “stay on target, stay on target, stay on target,” says the Rebel pilot as he maneuvers through the topography of the Death Star before he fires that fatal blow to its core…

Drama Queen, maybe, distracted writer, definitely.  My short term goal is to narrate my 6+ months on deployment to Bosnia.  I dutifully kept a journal, this should be easy, but I’m mentally, physically and most of all emotionally distracted by the present.  I also want to write about the current political climate as well as the emotional roller coaster of facing another year-long deployment (the hub is off again).  I want to write about the power of friendships and the need for more gentle words, love and kindness in todays world.  Finally, I want to write about my friendship with my new neighbor who lost his wife to a stroke recently and our long talks and developing friendship.  If only I had a boss and a deadline—that would make it so much easier!  

I’ve decided to travel back to Bosnia for today.

12 October 2002

I went to my first “liaison meeting” today.  I quickly learned this was just an excuse to get the nationalities together to drink.  So, we broke the rules and drank.  (We are under “General Order #1” but the other nationalities were not so they stocked the booze and we locked up our guns for these events.)

The room was filled with Dutch, Fins, Danes, Russians, Frenchies, Italians and Americans.  Michelle (the woman I was replacing) and I were the only US Air Force people, and there were 2 US Army girls there too.  This was clearly a social function and it was fun—the wine was good.  I was glad to have Michelle by my side since I was so new.  As the night progressed the Army girls got randy and hung all over the guys—gag.  I have no idea if they were married though it usually doesn’t matter anyway.

Good night.

k

13 October 2002

It’s Sunday night.  Today was the base “Oktoberfest.”  For the first time, the leadership let everyone dress in civilian clothes and drink 2 beers.  The Air Force personnel had to turn in our weapons for the day—apparently the Army can drink with their guns? Yikes.

Everyone seemed to have a good time.  The “tent” was set up with a ton of board games and card games but it was mostly an opportunity to hang out together and talk over a beer (most of us chose wine over the beer because they didn’t measure their pours and, after doing some quick math, we figured out that we got a smidge more alcohol in our SOLO cups this way).  After a couple of hours, I was bored since I didn’t know many people and civilian clothes didn’t seem like a special treat to me yet.

After Oktoberfest, I checked out a couple of movies from our in-house movie rental shop (pretty sweet deal, thanks to awesome people who donate movies for troops), washed my clothes, hit the dining facility (DFac) called Shane and then FINALLY really cleaned my hooch.  This room is now clean.  It was really nasty when I moved—feels better now.

I’m ready to take over the job now.  I don’t think it will be difficult—in fact, I’ll be challenged to keep myself productive.  I really wish I could be in a targeting job working a real mission instead of sitting in a peacekeeping role/unit providing current intel to a sexist, asshole who doesn’t even like intel.

My new boss is Colonel Joe Jackhole (ok, that’s not really his name but it will be throughout this blog).  He’s touchy-feely, sarcastic, cynical, rude, arrogant, and completely unlikeable.  He’s been in the AF for 28 years and is an old EF-111 pilot—that jet has been retired for at least 5 years so I don’t know what he’s getting paid for now.  He is in AETC when he’s not sexually harassing female intel officers in Bosnia.

Anyway, I’m not going to dwell on him anymore tonight…time for bed.

I’m watching Birdcage—it’s a good laugh.

ks

“Danger UXO Area”signs were all over the base…it was smart to just stay on the path!

Fast Forward:  As I read this, then typed it, then thought about it again…I found it infuriating how some things never change.  Always a sexist wanker in charge somewhere.  Another thought was that I CHOSE Bosnia over the desert, where the crap was about to hit the fan…coulda woulda shoulda.

6-10 Oct 02

From Anchorage to Ramstein

I’m sitting in the cockpit of a C-130 from Georgia.  It’s being flown by a Guard unit called the Savannah Guard Dogs.  Nice guys—they offered to let me sit upfront so took them up on it.  Yay.  Here I sit with my M9 by my side, wearing my gortex jacket, earplugs in and I’m chewing orbit gum—even though I look like a big tree, my teeth look fabulous!

Anyway, there’s a problem with a gauge so we’re waiting for a replacement part.  Apparently, engine 3 keeps reading too high of a temp and they’ve narrowed it down to a gauge, hopefully that’s the fix and we’ll be off soon.  I am ready to get this party started.  Your deployment days do not count until you are in-country.  I enjoyed my short stop in Georgia with my “other parents” (my friend Katie’s folks took good care of me).  When you are in the military you have friends, friends of friends or parents of friends in nearly every state.  On this trip, Katie’s mom (Sandy) was delighted to show me her newly renovated kitchen.  Dad was equally pleased since he knows how happy she was about this long-awaited project.

Our flight to Germany went well.  When we arrived, we were all put up in a billeting space that was used strictly for troops in transit.  I think they did this to keep the cost down since we all shared rooms and there appeared to be very few niceties such as coffee machines and TVs.  No one seemed to mind since we were still in Germany and could drink beer and drink beer.  For my 3 day layover I enjoyed the schnitzel, rumpsteak with garlic butter, bib lettuce (dang the Germans can make a yummy salad), pomme frits and, of course, the weizen bier.  (FYI, our weapons were safely locked up in the armory the entire 3 days.)  In addition to feasting and drinking, I had the pleasure of reconnecting with a friend I had not seen in years–someone I knew in a past life and was excited to see again.  Tracy and I were Airmen together–she was stationed in Northern Germany and I was in Belgium (in the 1880’s my daughter would say).  Now she is married and they have an adorable little girl (Darian) whom I was privileged to meet.  (fast forward–she’s all grown up and ridiculously beautiful & smart like her hot momma.)  We hit it off just fine.

10 Oct 02 (2100)

From Ramstein to Tuzla—day 1 of 180

Upon arrival to Tuzla Air Base, I was greeted by “Michelle” (the woman who called me her new best friend—I was replacing her), who showed me to my hooch.  Its late, I’m exhausted and I’m going to bed now.  Tucked in my well-worn, twin-sized bed I can say it’s not too bad.  My room is about 20’x20’ and has a TV, VCR, DVD player, a medium size fridge, microwave, little couch, table and chairs, and 4 x large lockers.  Michelle was nice enough to give me her room right next to the bathrooms so I only need to take a couple of steps to the shower/toilet/sinks.  She moved into a temporary room until she leaves next week.

Joan of Arc (my patron saint) is on the TV right now, how poetic.  I’ll watch her until my eyes close, which won’t be much longer.

Good Night.

k

Fast Forward:  I remember feeling comfy in my little nest when I lived in this hooch.  The mission was winding down so everyone had private rooms on the Air Force side of the base.  I would soon see how the Army lived—in tents with a minimum of 8 Soldiers to each tent (didn’t matter if you were an officer or enlisted).  On the flip side, it got lonely in that room too and although I wouldn’t have traded my shitty twin bed for a shittier cot, it was probably comforting to have people around you day and night.  You could get into your head enough on these deployments without the benefit of solitude.