Soldier Writer

Meeting Fla. Gov. Jeb Bush again

While deployed to Southwest Asia in April 2006, I had the unique opportunity to meet Gov. Jeb Bush for the second time in my life.  I had had the honor years before in 1998, when I was assigned to photograph an event in Saint Augustine, Fla., during the campaign preceding his successful election as governor.

Back from Iraq - Part 3

I was most stunned by how magnificent the palaces (formerly owned by Saddam and still standing) are there.  One of them is used as the American Embassy in Baghdad, and we stayed there.  It was amazing.  I just stood there gawking at the immensity of the rooms.  Even the bathrooms that we used were gorgeous, oversized and crafted from what looked to be marble and gold.  But it was also difficult to think that a lot of the grandeur we saw was probably built with Oil-For-Food money while the average families of Iraq starved and were mistreated and kept under Saddam's evil thumb. 

We even saw some of the torture devices at Abu Ghraib, and it was impossible to imagine such cruelty.  It felt as eerie as when I visited the former Dachau concentration camp in Germany when I was stationed there years before.  The camp is now a solemn memorial to remind people why certain eras of history should never be repeated.  Hopefully enough people get the message.

During this morning’s conversation, one of our team members made an astute observation.  It may seem easy to figure out for those who are not in the middle of this, but to us it was just a day on the job until we stood back and thought about it.  Our cohort caused us to stop and realize what a rare chance we'd actually had.  We stood on the rooftop of one of Saddam’s palaces (Al Faw) with four U.S. governors!  No one does that every day.  He said that this will stay with us for the rest of our lives, and we all agreed.  We will be telling our friends and families stories of this week and these few months for a long time to come.  He’s right.  I never looked at it from that angle until he brought it to our attention.   

I am not a particularly religious person, but I felt a calling to my heart and soul when I first heard of this mission over e-mail during a day behind my desk at work in January.  I haven’t yet determined where (if anywhere) this is leading me.  But what I do know is that I was supposed to be here.  None of this was unplanned or is a mistake, in my opinion – not the fact that we have the particular wonderful people we have on our team or any of the experiences we endure and partake in together.  We are all following our own paths somewhere, and I’m glad we are able to do so as “one team, one fight!”

Back from Iraq - Part 2

Surprisingly, I didn’t feel fearful this week.  In 1994, when I was a soldier in the 101st Airborne Division, the mere mention of deploying to Kuwait had me shaking in my literal combat boots.  We were geared up to go at the behest of President Clinton at that time, and just days before our deployment was to begin, the whole plan was called off.  I was still very young physically and emotionally then, and had felt such relief at that moment, being more concerned with my lifespan than with us winning the war.

Skip to the present, and here I was feeling jazzed and curious and very thoughtful, taking in every detail of the landscape as we passed over.  I am proud to be a small piece of this GWOT.  There are many soldiers with more important missions than my own.  And I am not one to deny that they are much better qualified to do these jobs, like being gunners on the tops of Humvees and manning tanks – jobs I know and have no problem admitting I am not as physically able to do as a female.  I don’t have anything to prove; but I am proud to be a soldier nonetheless.

I am a public affairs soldier, and I am proud of serving in my field.  There are many degrees of talent in our field, and I feel that I do my job well.  I’m so passionate about it lately that I don’t think I could do a terrible job if I tried.  My power may not be physical.  But it lies within my ability to tell the stories of those who do have the might and can weather the harshest of conditions, as well as the mechanics, the cooks, the administrative assistants, who behind the scenes keep all of the elements running smoothly.  And that is enough for me.

Being here, to me, is like putting life at home in the States in a little glass display case in front of me, so that everything in life, every detail has so much clarity and is so much easier to see all at once.  It puts things into perspective and makes me thankful for the things I might not have seen before.  It makes every moment in life – even the mundane ones -- more precious.   

None of us had had any sleep but about two to three hours each night when we were working with the governors.  We were up very late sending off photos and captions to their press people and I was like a zombie on my feet, but I wouldn’t let myself do a slipshod job in the name of getting back to my bunk.  I stayed as long as I needed to, regardless of my waning concentration skills.  That first night we went to sleep at about 3:30 a.m. and rose at 5:30 a.m. 

The traveling is worse than any long road trip you can imagine.  There is no comfort to be had in military aircraft.  You are constantly picking up your bags and carrying them over long distances in the middle of the night or in the heat of the day, in the rain.  Your knees are buckled into positions you didn’t even know they could maintain for an hour-long flight, until you had no choice.  You are told your flight is leaving soon and then told the flight was abruptly changed to a cargo flight, and you now have to wait 12 hours, and you have to regroup and keep a smile on your face.  Then you spend that time attempting to sleep on the hard, dusty, thinly carpeted floor of a huge tent where the lights remain on and everyone is tromping around in and out of the area on their way to their own paths of duty.  At the same time, you must constantly keep a hold on your weapon and never let it out of your sight.  I sleep with it right beside me in bed or take it to the nearby showers.  It is only now that I can truly understand why it was drummed into the very cores of our existence in basic training.  The weapon could be the difference between your living and dying, and it really becomes a part of you that goes everywhere you go in theater here in Southwest Asia.

The good thing – and I’m not complaining – is that I’m now in an Army where we get daily showers, and there are free Internet cafes and many more things taken care of by the influx of civilian and DoD contractors.  Things are still MUCH better than they used to be.  Even the quality of the Meals Ready-to-Eat has improved by a landslide.  The little amenities make a huge difference in a place like this, and we are always so thankful to the USO for being everywhere we are.

Back from Iraq - Part 1

Now that we are back safe and sound in Qatar, I can tell you what I’ve been up to this entire week.  I was in Kuwait and the locales of Baghdad, Balad and Abu Ghraib Detention Center (which is formerly the prison used by Saddam Hussein to torture and kill over 30,000 people) in Iraq. 

Our team followed four governors (West Virginia Gov. Joe Manchin III, Indiana Gov. Mitch Daniels, Florida Gov. Jeb Bush and Iowa Gov. Tom Vilsack) around the different areas of operations as they met with troops from each of their home states. 

On the second day in Iraq, the governors split up for a few hours and visited troops in different camps.  I was solely assigned to provide coverage of Gov. Jeb Bush during his visit to Abu Ghraib, as the three others of our team were separately assigned to other governors for this purpose.  Being a former longtime Florida resident (a place where my heart still resides), I enjoyed meeting him once again, just as much as I did back in the summer of 1998 when I photographed him at the World Golf Village in St. Augustine, Fla., during his campaign, which ended in his successful election to the office of governor. 

Gov. Bush took down my grandfather’s phone number and twice made sure he had it and told me he will be giving him a call soon. I hope so.  Contacting their constituents is a regular thing the governors do for obvious reasons, but I told him it would be very meaningful to me and to my aging grandfather, who is a Navy veteran and not in the prime of his health right now. 

I also found it amazing how down to earth the governors are.  After the second day with them began, they seemed just like anybody you’d meet on an everyday basis.  Gov. Bush was braving the extreme heat at Abu Ghraib that day right along with the rest of us.  We were all in the helicopters together, and had anything happened, any one of us had just as much of a chance as anyone else to get injured.  Thankfully, we were not though.

I spent about an entire hour there constantly on the move and totally “in my zone,” as I scribbled down cutlines and hurriedly made my way from one soldier to another, photographing the handshakes with the governor, recording in a pocket notebook the hometowns, full name identifications and units, on the fly. 

The scariest thing to me was flying over Baghdad in the pitch black of that first night and also during the day on that second day, seeing these green flares flame up and narrowly graze pass our helicopter.  I could actually feel the heat emanating from them as they whizzed by, since the doors had been removed from the Blackhawk.  I’m not sure which was worse – seeing a flare that first night and not knowing the origination of it and what it really was, or knowing that the second day we saw them these could easily have been someone marking us as a target, according to talk I heard going around.  I remember thinking ‘okay, what would happen if those things didn’t go in the other direction and instead went through the helicopter and toward us?’  I’m glad I didn’t have to find out any more than that. 

Everything became crystal-clear to me that this was no longer just bits and pieces of what I saw on T.V., where I could change the channel if it didn’t appeal to me.  I was not magically converted to some kind of protected status because I was accompanying governors.  We were a visible target in the air, inside a chopper, and if someone had wanted to take us out, they could have. 

It personally hit home as to why keeping information secure is so very vital.  If I had e-mailed or called friends or family on the cell phone and said, “Hey, guess what I’m getting ready to go do?”  I could have very well jeopardized the safety of everyone on those helos.  We are taught to be very cognizant of this.  It may be exciting and seem harmless to share the news of a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity with the people at home who are just living a routine existence, but it could also be a deadly mistake that affects more than just the person delivering the message.  The eyes and ears of Al Qaeda are everywhere, and, no, it’s not a right-wing conspiracy.  The Global War on Terror (GWOT) is real, and it exists here and in Cyberspace.  My liberal flower child mind of a decade ago would not have accepted this then, but I now know the truth when I see it and feel it all around me.

Ahmed, the tenacious salesman

This young boy, Ahmed, is the most tenacious salesperson I've ever met.  As I walked the line of bazaar vendors, he continued on unabashed, asking me if I was interested in buying a pair of sunglasses or a few postcards.  So I finally gave in and purchased two for $1.00 of the large cards that displayed faded, outdated images of a not so war-ravaged country from years past.

Afghan vendor at Kabul bazaar

This young Afghan man was very persuasive and kind as he showed us his selection of exotic handmade rugs.  I wanted one, but I don't have a large enough residence to warrant one, and it wouldn't exactly fit very easily inside an Army rucksack.

First trip to Afghanistan

We just got back from a week in Kabul, Afghanistan, with some of our time spent at Bagram Air Base, about an hour’s convoy or more away. Being there was a definite eye opener. When I have more time, I will try to share some of the photos of the kids I saw and the overall conditions. The media barely discusses this anymore, but it is such a sad situation. The people here (except for the insurgents) are so friendly and giving, and they smile even though they have nothing by Western standards. They are still doing things the way they have for thousands of years. Amazing. Hardly any of them have electricity or running water or what we would consider the bare necessities for life, and yet they survive and they go on living.

Afghanistan, from what I’ve picked up, is the third worst country for land mines. I was told there were found land mines marked not far from where we were driving. I was a passenger, but we were armed with ammo and rifles at the ready for over an hour as we made this journey from Kabul to Bagram, and we were told that anywhere there could be an IED (improvised explosive device) by the roadside. This later explained to me why we were driving like something out of a police pursuit scene in an action movie. As we drove, we saw ruins, camels and shoeless children with dirt-smudged faces happily waving at us as we passed – three children pushing a wheelbarrow, a gaggle of them playing in the street seemingly unchaperoned. I saw many women in blue burkas, which denoted their middle class status (different colors for different classes). But the burkas covered anything that even classified them as women. At least where I am stationed in Doha, Qatar, they wear more extravagant, much less modest abayas, and you can still see their eyes and hands. It was almost surreal seeing these women in blue moving about the society everywhere and yet “nowhere,” if you get my drift. They physically occupied their surroundings and held onto to their children as they made their way around, but they were largely invisible. At one point, our driver, who was a first sergeant from an Indiana Guard unit kind enough to help us logistically during our short time there in country, pointed out a 500-pound bomb that had been dropped years ago. It was wedged into the earth, its telltale fin sticking up. I silently hoped it was a dud as we passed, and I asked about it. He told me they had checked it out and found that it was better off just staying there, because to detonate something of that size would cause such a shockwave, definitely more damage than they would want in this already destroyed region.

Also, I interviewed an amazing U.S. enlisted leader whose job it was to go into the high mountain Afghan villages with Afghan money and purchase weapons and explosives from the people there. This has, obviously, the advantage of getting the weapons caches out of there, but also the benefit of pumping money into their economy. This leader asked that I not tell his wife his specific job, because he didn’t want her to worry, and I gave him my word. It was hard to imagine the job he did, because he didn’t even seem like the stereotypical soldier you picture in your mind. He was kind with clear and honest blue eyes and stopped many times to tell me to please let his wife of over two decades know that he is thankful for all that she does. He touched me by saying that the deployment was hardest for him because he had to leave “not his wife, but his best friend in life.” He said in all of that time, they’d never been apart for more than 23 DAYS. Wow, now that’s love. Back home, he is both a paid and volunteer EMT and firefighter and helps to preserve wildlife habitats in the Dept. of Natural Resources. And having grown up on a farm, he is still a farmer down to his very soul.

The people I meet through interviewing here never fail to inspire me. I really feel that I’ve found my calling in life – telling the heartfelt stories of people to the world at large. Nothing makes me happier or more passionate. I enjoy the challenge of asking just the right questions and trying to draw the human side from out of a Marine or a Soldier. One of the guys I interviewed said he joined the Army again just to be part of the Global War on Terror, and because he “missed the camaraderie so much.” It is hard to understand if you’ve never been in the military. But there is a kinship that nothing else can ever replace. For the three years I was totally disconnected from the military from 1995 to 1998, I too felt this; so I can identify. It’s as if you have a network of close friends – some you don’t even know until you meet them – and because you all wear the uniform, you are connected by something that can hardly be explained in words. Sure, there are bad apples in every batch, but I’ve met more good than bad.

The “fun part” was all of the travel via military aircraft like C-130s and C-17s. It took us over 24 hours to get from Doha, Qatar, to Afghanistan, just because of the nature of air travel in the military. One flight is laid on, and then it gets converted to a cargo-only flight on short notice, and you just have to roll with the punches. You don’t get a neatly issued ticket and hop onto the next convenient flight there and hand your baggage to a skycap. You lug your bulging rucksack to and fro, and then you are told to lug it somewhere else. You sleep sitting with your chin precariously balanced on the stiff edge of your body armor, your weapon always in your grasp. You take your weapon to the shower if you have to, and even to the latrine (Army-speak for toilet). In fact you get so accustomed to it that when we had to turn ours back in at one base to move to another where we didn’t need them, I found myself feeling like something was missing. You don’t know where you’ll be lodging next, or what the accommodations will be, but you press on, knowing that you can be confident of an end in sight eventually. You find friends along the way, who are integral in helping with these accommodations, and just as quickly as you make a connection with them, you have to say goodbye and find yourself heading over the horizon to the next beckoning mission.