The Finer Things

When we in the military deploy, we quickly begin reminiscing about what we miss about home. Some think about drinking water out of the tap, others about drinking any liquid out of a glass or cup. Many think of foods they miss, whether it be good burgers (gotta love In 'N Out!) or a really good steak.

Me? I miss toilet paper and paper towels.

Yes, that's right--do not adjust your screen. The TP and paper towels here are simply atrocious. The denizen manufacturers seem to switch the paper qualities of both. We have TP the thickness and softness of a cheap Wal-Mart paper towel roll. Such is the nature of the paper product, I think I'll pass on elaborating further--I'm sure all who read this understand the point I'm making here.

On the other hand--almost literally, as I'm about to tell you--the local paper product company makes paper towels the same thickness and durability as a cheap toilet paper. The result is a requirement to rub your hands together to get the paper towel off your hands after the attempt to dry your hands. Go ahead, go to your bathroom, grab yourself some TP, and dry your hands after washing. Try it; I'll wait.

Back yet? Not a lot of fun is it? Welcome to my world of paper towels.

When I get home, the first time I go to the bathroom, I think I'm going to cry.

Memorial Day

This time of year always wrenches at my gut--especially so after 9/11/01. Magnify that by a couple of factors of ten and you, dear reader, will get a sense of how this weekend impacts me while deployed.

Three years ago, I was deployed to Afghanistan. Memorial Day was significant, and the chapel service was heart-wrenching. I was proud to be associated with warriors who have given their all in defending our country or helping protect the denizens of other countries.

This weekend, though, my heart goes out to a family in St Louis. The Schulte family lost their daughter this week. On her way home, it was an honor to facilitate her travel back to her family. Lt Schulte transited through here on her way home due to myriad aircraft scheduling details. My squadron had the honor of transporting her off the aircraft to safe-keeping overnight, then back on another aircraft the following morning. Saluting the arriving airlift as it pulled into its parking spot, and saluting as she was carried off the aircraft and on an aircraf the next day will be memories that stay with me for a long time.

In some ways, I wish more people could feel the pride I have for my association with warriors of all services like Lt Schulte. If they did, perhaps Memorial Day would mean more than a day off and a reason to drink a case of beer.

God bless you, Schulte family, for your support to this country through your daughter, and may He ease your grief. May He also continue to bless our great Country and her people.

Semper Fi, Marines, and Godspeed

One of the neatest parts of my job is working with aircraft and the folks that load them. Today I had the honor of assisting load a C-17 headed down range "into the fight" with a bunch of Marines. When Marines walk around the base here, they're typically laughing, joking with one another, and generally enjoying their time as the transit our base--either going into the fight, or going home from it. Today was a different story.

I helped load warriors off to do their duty to God and Country, and it was a sobering thought when I realized there was a real possibility the Marines I helped load today may not walk back home, and instead they may be called upon to give all--going home in a flag-draped box. I think they knew that possiblity, too: when they boarded the aircraft, loaded with their weapons and wearing their body armor, there was no joking, there was no smiling. Each Marine had his game face completely on, ready for whatever awaited their aircraft when they landed at their destination.

It was my honor to serve those warriors, and it once again made this "Long War," as some call it, personal to me. I am reminded of Isaiah's calling in Chapter 6:
"And then I heard the voice of the Master:
'Whom shall I send? Who will go for us?'
'I spoke up, 'I'll go. Send me!'" (Is 6:8, The Message)

Semper Fi, Marines. God bless you and Godspeed.

Pics from Change of Command

Finally, here's a couple of pics from the big day (5 May for those you that are keeping track). One of the cool things the POL flight here did was put a former Beale R-11 refueling truck in the background. I thought that was pretty neat.

Pictures!

Left: a monument celebrating WWII victory (see previous post about Victory Day).


Below: Me, doing my best Lenin impersonation.












Below: The Parliament building

Left: A middle-class neighborhood between the base and Bishkek. Seriously--middle class!

Left: the flightline, with storm clouds coming in.

Happy Victory Day!

Victory Day is to citizens of the former Soviet Union what Veteran's Day, the Fourth of July, and Memorial Day is to those of us in the United Stats--all wrapped into one. It's quite a big deal. For good reason, too--the Soviet Union lost nearly 10% of its population during the first half of the 1940s. The US? We only lost .3% of our population. World War II (and Stalin, too, I imagine) devastated the Soviet population, a fact not lost on the current generation of Russians, Uzbeks, Kazahks, and certainly not the Kyrgyz.

Really! I am here!

First off, I apologize for the delayed post. Since I've landed here in central Asia, it's been a roller coaster of briefings, badge-getting, in-processing, people-meeting, and the change of command. Just typing it all makes me tired.

The upside is that the last week as absolutely flown by.

My predecessor leaves on the airplane for home tomorrow--Godspeed, Pete--and the regime will be wholly mine. I look forward to the challenge.

I did discover one of my duties here will be directly dealing with local immigration officials, ensuring our two countries do not have any significant problems. My staff and I will have lunch with a group of them every other week--with sporting events periodically.

I will try to be more consistent with my blogging.

L.M. out.