Well, it has been a saga. A short saga, but still enough to prove again why movement in this country can be difficult at best and frustrating enough to make you pull your hair out at worst. It can take a couple of hours start to finish to fly 50 miles, or it can take two and a half days. I started two and half days ago. Flights kept getting canceled at the last minute due to dust/sand in the air. Apparently, it can look completely clear on the ground, but be too thick to fly through at the cruising altitude of a Blackhawk.
I was finally able to make it off the ground this morning and fly to Camp Sather where, supposedly, I was to catch my connecting flight to Balad. I don't think they do it on purpose, but the flight crews really screw with a guy's head. We had a showtime, gear on, bags ready, and had walked out to the flight line. The helo was on the ground, rotors turning, ready to go. This particular flight is called the "ring flight." It goes from base to base to base in a certain pattern, everyday. We were headed to LZ Washington (in the IZ, yeah that's right, back where I came from) then to Balad. The four people ahead of me were disembarking at LZ Washington. That left three of us to finish the ride to Balad. They let the four board, then turned myself and two others back. The crew had to pick up a full-bird colonel. Not sure of the math, but there it was. No flight.
Resigning myself to another boring night of terminal sitting, I decided to make the best of it and have Taco Bell for dinner. I was about a taco and a half in to a five taco binge when the guy behind the desk stood up and exclaimed, "All personell for Balad, grab your bags, police your area, get your gear on, and line up!" I looked around at the nest I had painstakingly built for myself, thinking I would be there all night. Ripping cords from the wall and my computer and wrapping up my headphones, I did a pretty good impression of an idiot. As I was about to don my IBA, I realized that I had forgotten to take the plug adapter back to the USO office. I skated across the wet floor (literally, wish I would have had a camera) and ran it back to the USO. They were shouting at me to hurry up and counting down every five seconds. I shoved the remaining tacos in my medic bag and ran to the flight line while trying to not knock myself out with the plates in my armor.
I made it with 30 seconds to spare.
This flight was my first during the day. It is sooooo much better than flying at night.
Getting ready to take off.
Date Palm Grove (I think)
Bridge over the Euphrates.
Iraqi Tomb of the Unknown Soldier
Getting brave....took me twenty minutes to get this far.
Inside of the Blackhawk
Patchwork of fields, note the irrigation canals.
Over Baghdad. One of the Hussein son's palace in the background.
The "Gold Dome" Our clinic in Baghdad used to be in one side of the base of the dome.
Flying in formation. See the Blackhawk behind me?
Very introspective look coming into Balad.
This is my favorite shot. The guy sitting across the helo took it. Note the abundance of ground and absence of sky. Also, my huge smile. Better than any roller coaster!
No comments:
Post a Comment