FML

DAY 103 16MAR2010: I should have stayed in bed today and I knew it. Somehow I just knew this day would be a waste. The day was intended well. Our glorious 1-1 AD Medical Road Show was on the move. We were to push out to COB McHenry and do some work. The Road Show was there a little over a month ago. It was a successful trip. This outpost has the 2nd largest population of our troops and they are living in what would be considered less than ideal conditions. Indirect fire occurs frequently, constant missions, horrible DFAC, and worst of all…port-a-johns only. The port-a-john cleaning schedule is well known by the troops. It is an art and a skill to time your bowel movement just so you arrive early enough that you are not wiping off someone else’s misfire but late enough that the inside of the john is not soaking wet from its recent high pressure wash. Obviously, living in this kind of state means there is a lot of business for behavior health and physical therapy when we get over here.
By air Mchenry is only a 15-20 minute direct flight from here. We have been lucky to have some direct flights during our travels but this is not the norm. Somehow I knew today would not be anything but the norm. Our scheduled flight was not to leave until 2230 or so tonight. However, our lieutenant in charge of scheduling the road show, whose husband happens to live at Mchenry and who would be traveling with us, thought it would be a good idea that we get to the terminal this morning at 0900 so that we can attempt to get on an earlier space-A (space available) flight. I couldn’t disagree solely because of her ulterior motive so I went with it. An extra ½ day in Mchenry won’t kill me and if Amber were there I sure as hell would find any way possible to get over there, and as often as possible. Also, this afternoon a windstorm may come through that would make visibility too poor to get out tonight. This morning though there is only a slight haze in the sky and no wind to speak of.
We get our things (ruck sack, IOTV, ACH, weapons, supplies) together at the clinic and finally find a ride over to the terminal two miles away. We walk into the terminal which is littered with Soldiers preparing to return home for R&R and check in at the front counter. We know the two Soldier’s that work here behind the desk now. One we know from our multiple flights and the other is a former patient of mine. A good thing about being the brigade pt is that you meet a great percentage of the Soldier’s and occasionally this works out to your advantage (not the case today). We are informed that there is a flight at 1130, there is room for us, but the weather situation at Mchenry is up in the air right now. They recommend we wait. This was expected. So we sit in the terminal, we read, we stretch, we shoot the shit. It’s not unlike sitting at some airport in the states waiting for a flight. Two hours and forty minutes later we are informed that the flight we are trying to hitch on “is a very VIP flight” and that they have now been informed to tell us there is not going to be room. Awesome. Not to worry though, our original flight for tonight is still on and we are on the manifest meaning we will not be bumped for a VIP. We call the clinic to have someone come pick us up, but of course the clinic vehicle is gone. It’s time to walk our sorry butts and gear to the bus stop and wait for a ride. As the bus approaches we hop up noticing that it appears full. “Fuck it” says Jill “We’re getting on this bitch”. As we walk towards the bus an ambulance pulls up behind it and honks at us. Sweet, a couple of medics are on a mail run and pick us up. We have a pretty good laugh about the absolute randomness of our lives as we ride back to the clinic in full battle rattle in the back of a civilian ambulance being used as mail truck. I am starving by now and am happy to be on my way to this DFAC for lunch. Morning was wasted but at least I can get some good meals in and maybe a good workout later. We don’t have to be back to the terminal until around 2100 tonight.
We go to lunch and laugh more about the morning’s misfortunes. I get back to the clinic preparing for afternoon clinic when LT busts in and tells me to grab my gear, “Our flight got pushed up to like now, we have 15 minutes to get down there!” Once again we get a ride to the terminal. Its 1445 and we walk straight out to the flight line where we are informed of the flight plan. Here to Urbil to Mosul to Tel Afar back to Mosul to Mchenry. Oh, and we will refuel twice. Of course we are the last stop, I expect nothing less. This means we have a good three hours of flying coming up. Awesome. The birds are not here yet and I don’t hear them and I’ve just eaten. When something goes in me, something must come out. I run to the toilet trailer and of course the Iraqi Nationals are cleaning it. I can tell this before I even open the door because the stench of BO is really that strong. I wouldn’t have believed it before coming over here but if BO were a weapon Iraqis would claim world dominance. I make it back to the flight line just in time to watch our Blackhawks land. Off we go on another tour of northern Iraq.
So we fly 45 minutes to Urbil. 20 minutes down to Mosul. Wait in Mosul another 20 minutes for some dude to get his crap together. My back starts aching. More than usual. Not just the IOTV but the damn crossfit workout yesterday. It kicked my ass. I puked post workout. Today I’m sore. Fly over to fuel point. Get out, wait 15 minutes, get back in. Fly 25 minutes to Tel Afar. Fly 25 minutes back to Mosul. Begin our final flight to Mchenry. This flight is taking forever. 40 minutes in we start to see some burning oil fields. I don’t remember these near Mchenry last time. I look across at Jill. She appears confused too. We see a FOB and make our decent. Jill mouths “I think we’ve been here before” and make a hand gesture that we must need to fill up again. I think to myself that this place does look familiar and we have been flying for a while. Yes, we must have made an unscheduled stop to fuel up. We land and as we make a turn on the tarmac the three of us all see the large hanger. We all look at each and yell at the same time “We are back at FOB Warrior!!!” The place looks familiar cause we freaking live here! Three and a half hours and at least one aching back later we are back where we started. Crew chief says sorry but the weather wouldn’t let us into Mchenry. Its 1630 and this 16th day of March is a complete waste. FML
Jenny, I hope your birthday treated you better than it did me but Happy Birthday anyway Sister!