England Swings

Met Bevie for too much fun in London. My flight from Kuwait to Heathrow, on a 777 airplane with real seats (yay!) was uneventful except that while I was waiting I fell asleep in the airport lounge. Luckily the ticket agent gave me nudge on the shoulder or I would have missed boarding. I took the tube from Heathrow to our hotel all by myself. London was cloudy (yay!), cool (yay!) and rainy (yay! yay!). No sand. Loved it!

For the next 3-1/2 days we went to the movies (Bruno), saw a play (Wicked), walked a lot (Leicester Square, Covent Garden, Piccadilly Circus, Trafalger Square), went into the sky on the London Eye, took a river cruise on the Thames, hopped on the bus and saw just about everything -- some of it three times: Westminster Abbey, Tower of London, Tower Bridge, London Bridge, Beefeaters, Queen's Bank, a statue of Winston Churchill, a statue of Abraham Lincoln, No. 10 Downing Street, Parliament, Big Ben, Hyde Park, Marble Arch, St. Thomas Hospital, Admiralty Arch, Globe Theater, MI6 Building (no James Bond), Scotland Yard, HMS Belfast, Buckingham Palace, St. Paul's Cathedral, Cleopatra's Needle, BT Tower, Waterloo Bridge, Oxo Tower, Nelson's Column, Royal Air Force Memorial and Victoria Station. We didn't go inside all of these places, but we did see all of them from our tour bus; some of the places more than once. Did I mention that we went by quite a few places quite a few times?

I also got a haircut (yay!), ate fish 'n chips, chicken with mushroom pie and mushy peas (my new favorite food.)

The last day we met my cousin Gina and her husband John at Harrod's and then walked to the Victoria & Albert Museum for lunch. Gina is the daughter of my dad's cousin on his mother's (Freudenthal) side. She is researching a family tree and is also looking to commemorate our lost relatives in the Stolperstein Project in Germany, where brass cobblestones are set in the pavement outside the last home where deported Jews lived. The stones have the names, dates and fate (if known) of the deportees engraved in them. I did not know Gina, but she had visited my dad's cousin Lisa (with whom I correspond) in Uruguay and then contacted me about a week ago to see if I would be ok with the memorial idea. Just so happens she lives in London.

John, Gina, Bev and I had a delightful lunch. Gina told us some family stories that I'd not previously heard and gave me a picture of my grandmother that I had never seen.

After lunch we took the tube back to our hotel, then out to Wimbleton to have a lovely dinner with Bev's mom, Pam, and Ed at their long-time friend Joyce's beautiful home.

I had an uneventful tube ride back to Heathrow, changing trains without incident. Steve and Joe picked me up at the airport, I took a 4 hour nap and then back in the swing, working at the USO. (See next post.)

As it stands right now I am unable to upload any of my pictures from the past two weeks. The camera says my little thingy is "locked," (it's not) so I cannot take pictures, view pictures or put anything onto my computer. I'll have someone who knows what they're doing take a look at it. Sigh . . .

Back in Kuwait

Delighted to be back at Camp Virginia:

Bonah Bachenheimer
c/o USO - SWA
Camp Virginia, Kuwait
APO
AE 09327
cell: 6649 0861
bbachenheimer@uso.org
bonahb@gmail.com
bonnie.bachenheimer@kyl.com

Accepting letters, gifts, cards, care packages, prayers, happy thoughts, stupid jokes, FarmVille neighbors, family gossip, food fights and Facebook friends. All will be returned manifold.

Does This Kevlar Make Me Look Fat?

Basra to Kuwait went a lot better than the original trip to Iraq. The flight was scheduled for 12:40 with a show time of 09:40. I arrived at PAX Terminal at 0900. Since the plane we were waiting on had mechanical problems, it was two hours late taking off from LSA to come get us. About 40 of us were manifested and then sent to wait in "Lounge A." Sitting on creaky, Naugastuff chairs watching everyone eat MREs wasn't bad until the electricity went out, taking the lights and the air conditioning with it. After 60 or so minutes of swealtering and stinking in the sauna, we were advised that we needed to very quickly board the plane, since the C130was just stopping to pick us up on a three-leg trip, and the engines would not be turned off. The officer advised that those of us wearing short sleeves (me) might want to put our arms behind our backs. After donning my 35 pound flack jacket and protective helmet, I joined the troops in double lines. As instructed, we walked to the left, then right, another right, then left again; then we marched directly into the bowels of the plane. I thought I wouldn't worry about my arms since the hair had previously been scorched off (see previous posts). However, when I got closer to the 180 degree heat blowing directly at me I realized my fingers might turn crispy so I did try to put my arms behind me. When I got to the plane I stepped 12" off the ground onto a steep metal ramp where I t-e-e-t-e-r-e-d for the better part of a second, until S.Sgt. H gave me a push and I was able to continue in a forward direction. (I don't know if he was trying to be nice or if he just didn't want me to topple back onto him.)

We arrived at LSA approximately 60 minutes later, whereupon I was fetched by Steve and Bettie. After getting up early and rushing to the terminal, simmering in the lounge and then stewing in my helmet and flack jacket, I was assured by S.Sgt. H that upon arrival at LSA my hair did look fabulous.

It is really, really, good to be back at Camp Virginia in Kuwait.

Happy Birthday Kathy

Chris is sitting next to me, updating Kyle's computer. (It's a long story.) Chris is sending a message to his mom since it's her birthday today. He says she gets to spend her birthday taking his stepdad to his colonoscopy. She got to help him "prepare" yesterday. Classic.

He also just reminded me of this weird compulsion he told me about 3 days ago. Chris says he always has to set digital volume at a zero or five number. While he's working on Kyle's computer he noticed the volume was set at 49, so Chris was compelled to move it to 50. Car radios, computers, televisions; anything of that nature. Chris is from MinnesOta. What can I say?

The Short Bus

I was working alongside Patrick, one of our volunteers. Patrick was talking to Vince for quite awhile. When Vince left Patrick said, "Vince is a really great guy. He reminds me of one of my students." "That's so cool," I said. "I didn't know you were a teacher. What do you teach?"

Patrick says, "Special Education."

So that's all I know about Vince.

Incoming Again; It's All Bad

Today was my day off. I slept really late then went to lunch. At lunch somehow we started talking about Israel. One of my "friends" was saying that before World War II Europe all of Europe wanted to get rid of the Jews because they pretty much owned everything. It was all I could do not to get up and walk away. After lunch I watched “Role Models” and the first season (10 episodes) of “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia.”

After dinner, I checked my e-mails and then decided to take a walk. It’s pretty dark on base at night, but at least the temperature has cooled down to the low 90s. I walked all the way to the PX, inspected around there a little and then started back. When I got to the main cross street I walked across camp. I saw hundreds of really interesting-looking, battle-ready trucks and tanks (I wish I could take pictures to show you) and I passed a couple of 15-vehicle convoys. One area that I passed smelled like a cesspool. I saw one guy who looked like he’d been running, but now was walking. As I passed him I asked him if he was the one who made that smell. He said it couldn’t have been him since he just took a shower last week. I laughed and said that it must be me who smells then.

About 5 seconds later there’s a siren: “Incoming! Incoming! Incoming!” I’m supposed to stop and drop where I am, but it is all gravel and dirt so I walk over to what looks like a bus shelter. Then I hear “KA-BANG!” The guy is still walking so I yell to him that I think we’re supposed to hit the ground. He says, “Yeah, you’re right,” and comes over to sit with me in the shelter, which actually isn’t a bus shelter, but a bench next to a small back-board with nothing over it. Then we hear again, “Incoming! Incoming! Incoming!” . . . and . . . “KA-BANG!” We sit and talk for about 15 minutes until the “all clear.” He’s a really nice Navy guy named Aaron. He’s from Pittsburgh, but lives with his wife and two-year-old daughter in Coronado. After the “all clear” I walked back to the USO to tell them that I’m OK; then I go back to our living complex and call the Mayor’s Office to tell them everyone from the USO is fine and accounted for. For sure I'm not taking walks after dark any more; from now on I'll use the treadmill.

On the way back I saw some ambulances and fire trucks. I loitered outside with some of the Army and Air Force people and then went back to my room. After I’d been here about three minutes there was an announcement that all personnel are to wear full safety attire (flak jackets and helmets) at all times until further notice. Two minutes later there was another announcement for all personnel. I couldn’t hear it clearly, but I think it was something about remaining on full tactical (red) alert until further notice. Helicopters are patrolling in the sky. It sounds like LBPD.

The next day we found out that three soldiers had been killed and one critically injured.

It's a Small World After All

I forgot to mention that while I was waiting in the terminal at LSA, this guy comes up to my row and says, "I need to talk to you." I'm looking around. "Me?" I said. "Yes." He says that he thinks he was talking to me in the airport while we were waiting to get our visas when coming into Kuwait. "John!" I remembered him. He was back in the states and now was on his way into Iraq again. What a small world. See my post from February 10/11 (If This is Tuesday . . . )

Welcome to Iraq

Last night, around 0400 there was an alarm and announcement. I couldn’t hear it too well, probably because we’re surrounded by barriers, but what I could understand was, “Incoming! Incoming! Incoming!” I wasn’t too scared because I feel protected where we are and I didn’t hear any noise except the announcement. However, I was pretty pissed because now that I was awake I really had to pee and my razor-sharp instincts told me this probably wasn’t a good time to venture out of my bunk. It turns out there were three rockets fired at our base, but they were not too close to us. After about 20 minutes there was an all clear so finally I could use the bathroom.

This afternoon I was accosted in the bathroom at Basra airport. My friend “Mary” and I had gone to pick up the contractor who was flying in from Kuwait. I tried to use one bathroom, but it was closed. The next one had some women and children in it but one side was completely flooded and the empty toilets were filthy, disgusting and gross. When we walked to the terminal area, I asked Mary if maybe the restaurant upstairs had a bathroom. She said she didn’t know, but there was another sign pointing to toilets, so I followed the arrow and went into the ladies’ room. Even though the bathroom was empty, some of the stalls were locked. I was in one when I heard someone come in and then a male voice say something. I said, “Hello.” The guy said something back. I wondered if I had stepped into the men’s restroom. When I came out this young guy, he looked about 20, wearing blue service overalls without any insignia, was talking to me in Arabic (I guess) and trying to take my hand. I took my hand back to wash it. While I was washing my hands he kept talking to me. Of course I couldn’t understand what he was saying, but I definitely was not getting a warm fuzzy feeling. After I washed my hands he tried to grab me and I pulled away. I was very confused. I went to walk out, but he blocked me. Then he started taking off his overalls, pointing to his naked chest. I started to walk out again, he tried to stop me, but I pushed past him and went out the door.

When I got back to Mary she was speaking with a man. I started to talk and she shushed me because he was talking. I said, “I just got accosted in the bathroom.” The guy she was talking to said the airport was not really a safe place for two women so he waited with us until our contractor showed up.

Starting Over

COB Basra (Iraq) is a lot different than Camp Virginia. Up until a few weeks ago this was a coalition base run by the British. The security here is much tighter; ID checks at the DFac and PX, coming into the yard at the USO and when we enter the gate to our living area. There’s a balloon with a camera in the sky watching me in my room right now. I understand the cameras can read what I’m typing through the roof and ceiling. There are Hesco barriers everywhere. See picture of my front yard and my path to the ladies’ room. I have a room to myselfand I share a bathroom (toilet and shower) with my Center Manager. There’s a lot less sand (paved roads) and a lot more indoor plumbing.

The USO is in a huge building that was previously DFac 1. We have about 2/3 of the space and the brand new gym has about 1/3 of the space. There are no walls yet, so I hop on the treadmill for 10 minutes here and there throughout the day whenever I get a chance. No excuses! We have . . . INDOOR PLUMBING!!!!! So far the USO consists of 18 phones and 14 computers. The Center Manager and I are the only two paid USO employees, although we have a lot of really nice and extremely helpful volunteers. Hopefully the contractors will be approved and construction of the new USO will start within days.

Life’s been little challenging. I don’t know anyone except a couple of people I recognize from LSA and our plane ride to Basra. I haven’t seen a Marine in 3 days. The base seems a lot bigger and although I’ve taken the continuous bus all the way around and looked at maps, I’m still getting lost on a regular basis. One evening I walked home from the USO and ended up at the front gate. Hali Wali! (Oops! in Arabic.)

Sleeping in the Dorm with Oliver and Annie

After two nights of sleeping on chairs in the terminal or trying to sleep on the floor of the USO I found out that I could ask billeting for a room. The transient accommodations are dorm-like tents with about 20 beds. When I arrived at Q3 there was only top space available. I bought some sheets and a pillow at the PX, borrowed a blanket from the USO and made my bed. Unfortunately I could not figure out how to lie in it. My new friend Carolyn in the bunk below gave me permission to step on her face, but even that didn’t help. Patty thought we could put my mattress on the floor, but then we noticed that even though there was a blanket on one of the bunks with a duffle bag underneath, no one had seen anyone use it for three days. So I took over the vacant bunk, and slept like a baby for 8 solid hours (except one trip to the bathroom).
We were not allowed to turn off the lights at any time (safety reasons). The odd part was you’d get to know someone and then you’d come back to the room and all of their stuff would be gone. I felt like an orphan or a puppy at the pound. “Where’s Gay?” “I don’t know.” “Maybe she got a flight.” Wow. She must have gotten lucky. She was adopted!!!

Five Days in Space

I spoke with a lot of people while waiting at LSA/Ali Al Salem for five days and I think I’ve come to an understanding of how Mil.Air “works.” People like me, who are not attached to a squad or who are coming back from R&R are on space available (standby). The planes go to various places taking troops, supplies, and equipment and if there’s room for passengers, we hop on. I got to the terminal at a really bad time since horrendous sandstorms in Kuwait had prevented flights for leaving for four days. Then the sand moved north and the same storms prevented flights from landing in Iraq for four days.

We all wait at the terminal where the flight destinations are shown on a screen along with the projected number of available seats and a call time. Everyone waiting for any flight must show up for accountability roll call at 0630 and 2030 every day. If you do not answer “here” every day at those two times then your name is taken off of the list. If you want to go to a certain location then you show up at the terminal for the roll call for that destination. It’s possible that if it’s indicated that 13 seats are available, there may be none and if it’s indicated that there are 0 seats available, it may change to 20. It’s also common that when you show up to roll call, there’s an announcement that they are still working on logistics and you may have to wait another 60 minutes to see if you can get on a plane. That’s why I slept in the terminal for the better part of five days; show up at 1900 to get a seat for 2030 accountability. The flight board is supposed to change at 2030, but sometimes they announce it won’t be until 2200 so I wait until 2200 and then find out there’s a roll call for a flight to Basra at 2315. At 2315 they announce that they won’t know if there are seats available until 0030, so I wait until 0030 to find out there’s no seats left on that flight, but there’s a roll call for another flight to Basra with 13 spaces at 0230. They call 16 names at 0230 since 3 people did not answer up. (I’m number 18 on the list.) They ask us to wait 50 minutes to see if there are any more names to be called. I wait two hours and then check, and they tell me they didn’t make any announcement because there were no more spaces. By now it’s almost 0500 so I hang around for 0630 accountability. After answering “here” at 0700 (it takes awhile to call 1,500 names) my day of sleeping on large chairs with 80 of my best friends starts again. I’m past caring if I snore, drool, if my shoes are on the furniture or my mouth hangs open.

Some of us did take the bus to the tarmac for one flight. After we waited for 30 minutes they told us the sand storms in Iraq were bad so they took us back to a holding tent where we waited, sweltering, with no ventilation. After two hours we heard the “good news” that our flight had been cancelled. I was put back on the list, but since I was on the manifest for the cancelled flight I had to go back to start and get my order papers approved.

Once I heard them call 30 names for a flight. After standing in line for 10 minutes thinking that they were finally going to get out, they announced “never mind.” That flight did not have space available. One group got on a flight to Baghdad and couldn’t land because the weather was so bad so they had to come back and start over.

Our transportation was a C-130, the huge propeller “workhorse.” We waited onboard for 20 minutes before we could taxi, sitting on side-benches, baking in the desert, wearing 35-pound flak jackets and helmets. I could feel sweat rolling down my back, sides and front, my hair was drenched all the way through (not just on my neck) and my face was dripping.

After waiting the better part of 5 days for a flight, the trip, including taxi, flying, landing and arriving at the terminal was 50 minutes; the distance we traveled was less than 100 miles; I COULD HAVE FREAKIN’ WALKED!

-0o0-

The morning of the day I arrived at LSA the Subway restaurant burned down. We had to close the USO the next day so that they could remove the Subway. They lifted it by crane (over our building) and then drove it away. I'm sure by now the new Subway has been up and running for days.

Who's Leaving Whom?

I know I promised not to write about the TC4ME Marines again, but then in true military fashion, everything got all messed up. The last group of Marines was scheduled to leave Camp Virginia on 19 June and then leave Kuwait to go back to the US on June 20th. They found out at 2000 on 18 June that they would have to stay here for a few more weeks. There was some whining, crying, screaming, kicking and cussing, but after a few minutes most of them decided to make the best of it and settled in. So here they are with almost nothing to do. Many of them volunteered at the USO, with a couple of guys logging over 100 hours in two weeks. They saw what needed fixing, doing and taking care of and just stepped up without being asked. They helped check people in, cover the front desk, install phones, take out the garbage, stock the cooler, bring in cases of water, clean up messes and improve the morale of everyone who worked at the USO and everyone who visited the USO.

Since I'm leaving tomorrow to work for 30 days in Basra, Iraq it's me that is leaving my TC4ME Marines a couple of weeks earlier than expected. I will miss my guys beyond all comprehension. OK. Nevermind. That's a little too dramatic. But I really will miss my sweets a lot. Love, kisses and hugs.

Glamor in the Desert

Today I got ready for work, just like I always do. After taking a shower, I put moisterizer and sunblock on my face to get rid of wrinkles and protect my skin from UV rays; I massaged gel baby oil onto my legs so my skin would stay smooth and silky; I conditioned my hair and then applied foam to shape curls and hair spray to hold the style; I covered my arms with body lotion so my elbows would stay soft; and I touched up my toes with one new coat of bright red polish. Then I stepped out of my bunk into a 125 degree sandstorm with winds blowing at least 25 miles an hour. It was almost impossible to see, breath or walk. I arrived at work approximately 6 minutes later, looking like a mud-encrusted Don King.