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| My truck....mirror |
Shutdown mode. That's what gear everyone is in. Finally.
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| Small town |
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| Tent (with working A/C!) |
I took a convoy up to Marez (near the city of Mosel in northern Iraq) last week with a crew of about 87 Soldiers to grab some cargo and bring it south. Usually my convoys run with gun truck security that belongs to me as well but this time, we had to outsource to an external unit.
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| Some of the trash |
The agreement we made with them was to allow them to be in charge of the tactical movement while we are on the road. Big mistake. These guys are mandated to travel a top speed of 35mph compared to our 45mph. To those of you reading this, neither sounds very fast but it makes a world of difference. The distance to Marez from here is 242miles one way so on average it takes us about 6-7 hours. Nope. Not this time. We spent 15 hours on the road traveling a top speed of 30mph. Obviously there are vehicle breakdowns that we have to deal with, Class I downloads (bathroom break) and things of that nature but still, our normal drive time was 6-7hrs and this trip we doubled it. Once we arrived at Marez, we sat in the upload yards for another 6 hours until our trucks started to be loaded. Finally, after just over a 25 hour day, we headed to our billets. Wow did they spare no expense for transient lodging!
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| Outstanding |
I'm not one who really cares where I lay my head so cots don't bother me since it's expected when you're on the road. I was referring to the area surrounding us. The place was a mess. Trash all over the ground. Newspapers thrown about inside the bathroom trailer. No toilet paper. That's right, no toilet paper....guess that explains the newspapers. Fortunately I was an Eagle Scout once so I brought a supply just in case but still...lucky for you all I decided not to take pictures of the INSIDE of each of the toilet bowls....
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| Nothing more romantic that a sun setting over a military convoy |
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| Moving through a checkpoint |
After we finally did get some rest, we got up at 2am to get ready to move back south only to find out that the loads they had placed on our trucks were wrong. Spent the next 6 hours taking loads off and putting new ones on. We finally were able to leave Marez with the hope of traveling faster than 30mph. No such luck. It took us another 15 hours to get back. It was painful.
I will tell you all this: The only Service Members tax payers are getting their monies worth are the combat truckers who work for me. The trucks we drive have very little room to move around in. Your legs stay bent at 90* with your knees right up against the sheet metal where your tracking/messaging system is mounted. Every bump along the road, no matter how small it is, jostles your body so you're in constant battle for control, especially of your head and neck. Your knees are banging up against the sheet metal causing them to be raw, bruised and very tender by the end of mission. These trucks are not designed to be lived in yet all of them find a way to contort themselves into a semi comfortable position to catch some much deserved shut eye after putting in a 20 hour day and waiting in the yard for loads. Each of them spent over 15 hours crammed into a vehicle driving along the most dangerous roads in the world where before they roll out they know there are people out there trying to kill them, got served horrible food at the DFAC, got put up in tents that were trashed on the outside and inside, showers that didn't have warm water, newspaper for toilet paper and still they laugh and joke and the very next day they do it all over again. Who does that? Who gets into a vehicle every day knowing that there is someone out there trying to kill them? It takes guts which each and every one of them have. These are the ones who put their lives on the line daily without hesitation.
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| Catching some shut eye |
Things are getting pretty scarce around here. Last night was the Last Supper which was an utter disappointment. Over the last week or so there has been a dwindling supply of food altogether in the DFAC (dining facility) but I woke up yesterday with the hope that maybe they were holding back on a stash of food to go out with a bang on. When I entered the DFAC there was a very long line, much longer than usual so my spirits were lifted. Unfortunately the line was only long because everyone knew the DFAC was serving the last meal and could run out at any time. I walked up and down the serving line I opted out of it in hopes of getting a sandwich. Got to the sandwich bar only to find that there was no bread to put any of the toppings on to even create one. It was at that point that I walked back to the main serving line and ended up getting a few stripes of chicken gyro and some stale pita-like bread. I then walked over to where a 2 gallon vat of soup stood simmering, took a thin plastic bowl and dipped the ladle in. The ladle hit rock bottom without so much as finding either noodles or chicken. I scrapped the bottom of the bowl and carefully lifted the ladle nearly 10 times to fill my bowl up. As I approached the table where everyone was sitting, each of them looking just as disheartened as I did, I wished I had a camera to take a photo of my tray. Looks like I'll be starting that crash diet until I get out of here.
