Full Circle - Lessons From One Sandbox To Another

Life is a funny thing. As you get a bit older and get some experience under your belt your perspective on things definitely changes. The older I get the more I believe that the majority of what has made me successful in dynamic team environments was learned at a very young age. This concept hit me pretty hard while I was deployed to Iraq.

Over the course of my time in Iraq I was in charge of a team of military, civilian, and contractor personnel. I have been in charge of different people, teams, and groups before but for some reason when I was deployed I was much more apprehensive about my capabilities as a manager and leader. Maybe it is because the military mission was smacking me square in the face. Stateside you do not necessarily always see the negative impact of your mistakes. On a deployment the stakes are high. My contracting team's failures directly impacted the war fighters and support troops in theater carrying out the mission. That reality was definitely something I took seriously. As my nerves and doubts got the better of me I was constantly trying to remember lessons learned from college business classes, from the numerous management and leadership books I have read over the years, and from the blogs I frequent. Due to the nature of my no notice deployment and the operational tempo in Iraq I was thrust right in without the convenience of being able to revisit and review leadership and management principles; I was forced to go with my gut and what I have internalized over the years.

Now that I have been back in the good US of A for a few weeks and have had time to reflect on the extremely positive management and leadership experiences I had in Iraq, I look back and my nervousness and insecurities and I almost laugh. I am amazed at how much of what made me successful as a leader over there weren't complex theories and cutting edge management formulas but lessons that I learned as a kid playing on the playground or in the sandbox. Here are a few lessons learned in the school sandbox that helped me immensely in the deployed sandbox:

Learn to Share: I tried to redirect all compliments and make sure that the credit went to my team. Careerists often struggle with this one. We all want to advance and be recognized but avoiding taking credit for the team's successes is crucial to continued team success. Your team will recognize your gratitude for their efforts and your superiors will, over time, see that you are a component of the team success as well even though you humbly redirect credit.

Quit Now Be A Quitter For Life: I distinctly remember my parents drilling this lesson into my head at a very young age and I am grateful they did. I think this simple but impactful lesson has been transformed into many clichéd life lessons. When the going gets tough the tough get going. Work hard and the rest will take care of itself. Quitters never win. The list goes on. Regardless of how its worded, the spirit of the lesson helped me immensely overseas. There were times where I just didn't think that I could do all the work that needed to be done. There were times that I didn't think that I had the stamina to make it through the remaining months. I was uncomfortable, tired, overworked, and most of all I missed my family and friends back home. Whenever I felt overwhelmed like that I just put my head down and worked through it. What other choice did I have? Not much to be honest but I think life is the same way. When you get dealt a bad hand you just have to keep working through it, because you can't quit life either.

TEAM = Together Everyone Achieves More: I still remember playing two hand touch in elementary school with my buddies. I can remember the exhilarating feeling I got when we put together a team that kept winning. That was my first taste of synergy in action. All throughout my hockey career and now into my Air Force career I have loved the feeling of being on close knit high performing teams. Those types of teams are not easy to come by but the feeling you get being a part of one of those teams is amazing. In Iraq being part of a team is a necessity. Deployments are not easy so you have to lean on people more than you are used to. But that vulnerability and shared experience creates strong bonds which was refreshing and reminded me of my old hockey playing days.

Cheaters Never Win: People always talk about integrity in the military. I often hear it described as doing the right thing even when no one is looking. That definition, although quite tangible and good to live by, does the spirit of integrity a bit of injustice. Having integrity in what you do and what you say makes you a precious commodity. Normally I am fairly non confrontational. Out there working with the Army things were a bit different than what I was used to working in an office setting in Boston. If you don't speak up and know what you are talking about in Iraq you will get stream rolled by higher ranking hard charging Army dudes! The stakes are high, the tempo is fast paced, and people are stressed out. It is definitely not the place to be timid. So saying what you mean and living by your principles and virtues is more important than ever. Over time I saw that the leaders above me recognized that I had an opinion. Generally that opinion was thought out, reflected my true feelings, and it was founded on a genuine concern for our task at hand and a desire to improve. Having that integrity to stand behind what I said and did made me a constant source of consultation for the senior leaders in our organization. It was a good feeling. It was refreshing to know that you don't have to be a "yes man" or a "brown-noser" to be recognized as valuable to the team. If you work hard and do in your heart what you know is right then you will be recognized for your contributions to the team.

I am sure I could think of a few more but these are the big lessons that come to mind. I would love to hear comments on other childhood lessons that have served people well in their lives. Thanks for reading and it is great to be back!

Goodbye Baghdad!

I am sitting watching a beautiful desert sunset at Al Udeid Air Base in Qatar. As I logged into my blog I realized that it has been over a month since my last post. With all the things that were going on during my deployment, all the commitments, all the people to stay in touch with, and my own personal mental sanity something had to be sacrificed and unfortunately that something was my writing. After I take a few weeks to relax and fully enjoy time with my wife I plan on getting back into a more regularly scheduled writing regimen similar to the frequency pre-deployment. What will likely be different are the topics I write about and my views of the world. I have been through so much in such a relatively short period of time and these past six months have certainly changed me and helped me grow.

As I look back now that I am out of Iraq I think that subconsciously I may have avoided sitting down and writing. I think I avoided writing because I was acutely aware that the multitude of experiences within my deployment were just too much to fully process. I am sure that over time I will have a better understanding of the magnitude of the reality I was living and how that reality was shaping me as a person.

I went through some tough times during my deployment but I also went through some great ones. The experiences I gained from my time in the desert are undoubtedly priceless experiences. I feel more confident in myself and what I can achieve moving forward. I cannot wait to taste my old life again and appreciate just how great it is, and I cannot wait to make it even better. Although I would never willingly seek out another six months away from my family and friends again, I wouldn't trade what I have experienced either.

Some of what I have taken away will undoubtedly be shared as it will not only benefit those who have not experienced what I have but it will help me understand and grow from my deployment. Some experiences will be shared with friends, some will be saved for my family, and some will remained locked within as the moments and emotions cannot be successfully transfigured into words.

I thank you all for standing behind me as I made this journey and I look forward to rejoining you and living the good life back in the best country in the world. Goodbye Baghdad!

The Deployment Mirror - Part IV

Chapter I - Monday:

I wipe the sweat from my brow as the crew and I walk into the entryway of the guard shack leading into the dining facility (DFAC). I hand my ID to a Ugandan guard in a SOC uniform. He adjusts the loaded AK-47 on his shoulder, glances up at my face to ensure I am who I say I am and returns the card to me. I walk around the corner and into the DFAC to wash my hands. The paper towel saturates and rips leaving remnants of wet paper stuck to my fingers as I open the door into the dining facility. For some reason all the paper towels over here are the consistency of toilet paper. One of the small annoyances that whispers in your ear not so reassuringly reminding you that you are not in the comforts of home.

I scan my ID as I enter and am hit with the smell of DFAC. It is not an entirely bad smell but the multiple visits a day cause the smell to become an all too constant presence in the groundhog day that has become my life. I grab a tray, a plastic plate and silverware, and make my way briskly over to scan the line.

"Chicken sandwich day dude!" Heichs yells from behind me. Like a bird returning to the flock I swiftly alter course and head to the chicken sandwich bar that has become a regular on Monday's. We spread out and grab our various drinks, salads, and other items and reconvene in the back hall that somehow has a bit better air conditioning than the main area. We find and open table and plop down for a much welcomed break from the monotony of the contracting workload.

We sit down and start catching up on the few hours we have been dispersed carrying out our separate niches within the organization. The hustle and bustle of the various troops and contractors in the DFAC provides a backdrop of noise and movement that at first was overwhelming but is now the norm. The conversion inevitably turns to stories about contracting, another glaring reminder that I am deployed. Our job serves as our lowest common denominator of shared experiences and thus is often the topic of conversation. This is out of necessity and definitely not out of enjoyment. I have recognized a pattern in our conversations though. We often start with a contracting story. The story then leads to complaining. Not the type of complaining that comes from tainted and bitter people, but the kind that arises from those that are hungry and impatient with bureaucracy, injustice, and plain idiocy. The topic of conversation inevitably leads to higher ideals and principles that transcend our common deployed experiences and align more with our common human experiences and values.

I am amazed at how no matter where we start we end up talking about very high level, simple shared topics. We start bitching about contracting, navigate our way into strategic discussion on the way the war is being fought and how we fit into it. We then talk about what we would do if we were king for a day, and inevitably end up talking about our life goals and values like happiness, the importance of family, fulfillment, cultivating human relationships, and experiencing this gift of life that we are given.

I am no Socrates or Aristotle, but some of my best memories from this chapter of my life will definitely be centered on those shared discussions with my peers. People will want to hear about my travels to the desert. They will want to know how hot it was, how the palaces looked, and if I met any 'real' Iraqis. I will patiently answer their queries as these experiences will undoubtedly be cherished. But my foresight tells me that my best feel good moments will be the connections I established with my buddies and those moments in time where we got a glimpse into each other's souls and recognized the ideals we all shared; the things that are truly important to living an amazing and fulfilling life.

"You guys ready?" I ask the group. We stand up in concert and take our trays over to the industrial garbage cans lining the exits. I push open the swinging door and am once again blasted with a combination of dust, intense sunlight, and heat that pulls me back to the reality of where I am at. We head back to the vehicle and make the drive back to the office.

To Be Continued....

The Deployment Mirror - Part III

Chapter I - Monday:

My Friends and I stride into the relatively newly constructed building we more or less have called home since our arrival. It is hardened for protection against mortar and rocket attacks and has powerful although relatively unstable air conditioning. The cool air engulfs me and I can feel the heat radiating from my uniform. My body reacts by emitting thin glaze of sweat that soaks my boxers and undershirt. We trek upstairs and through the door into our office.

My office in Iraq looks relatively similar to that of my office at Hanscom Air Force Base just outside of Boston. However, the workload is definitely a change from the comfortable pace stateside. The way I describe my workload to family and friends is that there is more work to be done that could ever be accomplished. So you put your head down sift through what is most important and give it your best. Strangely my mental pendulum swings between being overwhelmed and relaxed by the reality that there is more work than can be realistically accomplished.

I log into my computer and shove aside the two contract files that have accumulated sometime in between my nine o'clock departure last night and my eight o'clock arrival this morning. Many of the CACI contractors who work in my office opt for a to go breakfast in order to start their clock early. Two of my team members have already placed a file on my desk for review and release. I open my email and see that I have 22 new messages. I quickly delete a few base wide messages detailing upcoming 5k runs, magic shows, and road closures. I continue and delete 5 or 6 messages from Iraqi contractors who somehow know that I am a contracting officer and email me daily for new work.

My career, although extremely frustrating at times, does serve a very important function especially in these new times of war. Nothing works on base without Contracting. From generators to internet service to security guards. There is some pride and definitely some heavy responsibility that comes with that reality. Seeing as though we are spending government money there is also an immense amount of bureaucracy to deal with that has grown like a virus over the last hundred years or so of government contracting. It has become more of an art than a science to learn to navigate the complicated and often conflicting guidance of the Federal Acquisition Regulation. One begins to get a taste of how Washington works while being involved in government contracting. Most laws and legislation are enacted out of reaction to scandals, protests, and other issues that have forced our nations leaders to do something to prevent such a thing from happening again. But the fallacy is that you can reactively legislate to proactively prevent. There will always be new challenges and new scandals. As the rules change so do the problems associated with those rules. And thus it becomes more and more difficult to execute what needs to be done. Being in the desert brings you even closer to the way Washington works as you can trace the numerous taskers and requests for information right back to DC. It is frustrating to say the least.

I put my headphones and crank some metal tunes to start my day off on the right foot. A few interruptions and a few hours later and I get up to take a break. I look over at Bob who strolled in around nine all sweaty from the walk over and ask him if he is ready. It is his last week in Baghdad before he heads home. We talk for a bit and his departure begins to give me hope of my own successful return home. He has helped me from the day I arrived and I think back just a few short months ago and I can't believe how settled I am in this strange world. The human spirit is an amazing thing. We naturally adapt to the situations and challenges around us. We are on a constant quest for normalcy, for a peace of mind. Yet we are also constantly striving to become better and to grow through new and unique experiences. It is an interesting dynamic that I have become not only aware of but dependent on throughout my short but eventful time on this earth. Just knowing that in the most stressful and clouded times of your life that you can and will overcome is a good feeling. It doesn't always ensure those times will be easy but it keeps you moving forward.

"You ready for lunch," I lean over and ask Bob. "Yeah, give me a second," he replies. I walk off and around the office gathering the rest of the Captain crew. We exit the office loudly, joking around as we make our way out to the car to drive to lunch. The midday heat is almost unbearable this time of year and the buildup of government vehicles on base which was source of shock when I first arrived has now become a saving grace. Another half day down and one step closing to coming home.....

To Be Continued....

The Deployment Mirror - Part II

Chapter 1 - Monday:

I step outside my room and am once again slapped with the thick Iraq air. "Bob's not coming?" I ask Heichs and Sheeman. "What do you think?" Heichs replies. Bob has said he is coming to breakfast for the last week only to come franticly rushing into the office at about 9:10, sweating while explaining that he meant to sleep in.

The three of us begin the half mile walk to the DFAC (dining facility) sans Bob. We walk along the dusty road outside our CHU's on the way to the paved road and are blasted with a dust cloud from speeding F-250. "Fucking Joe Contractor," I say jokingly. We bring up the comfortable and common topic that we have been in this war so long that even our contractors have developed a noticeable obnoxious sense of entitlement. My worldly, witty peers and I seem to never to tire discussing our loathing of the stereotypical and aptly named "Joe Contractor."

Joe Contractor is a middle aged overweight male who has spent years working in Iraq and making a fortune. While his role is important and no doubt necessary to our efforts he acts as if the base is a contractor Disneyland. He drives an F-250 or a new SUV all over the base and never has anyone else in the vehicle. His gas is paid for by the US Government and is placed in a vehicle that the US Government leased but will eventually end up buying for more than we would have paid if we bought it off the lot from the beginning. Joe Contractor eats in the DFAC and always grabs two to go boxes full of food. My friends and I joke that we are not only paying these guys to get fat but that in 15 years they will hit us again as their healthcare costs make their way down to our level. The face of America's wars have changed since my Grandparents era, that much is certain. Our politicians make decisions based on votes and not on reality, and thus must fill capability gaps with Joe Contractors. These same politicians then slam our finest Generals during televised review boards over the amount of contractor personnel in theatre. This is not my Grandfathers' war.

We arrive at the DFAC, sweating from the heat that is substantial even before 7:30 AM. We hand our ID cards to the Ugandan guards with AK47's that man all the entrances to the public facilities. They too are contracted help. In fact the majority of the security over here is. Another strange departure from my dreams of what deployment would be like. They ensure that we are carrying our weapons and return our cards. We make our way through the breakfast line and plop down together to carry on our morning conversation.

My buddies in Iraq have been a saving grace. I was so paranoid that I would not find the friendship and camaraderie I so desperately needed in my first deployment. However, my fears were for naught. My peer group has not only been there as a friendly boost getting me through these tough times away from home, but they have made me proud of my generation that has chosen to serve. My fellow Captains are well educated, intrinsically motivated, have handled a large amount of responsibility at a very young age, and have done it well. We feed off each other's drive to succeed and we are competitive in a friendly and healthy way. Our group has developed a personality. An identity that arises amongst solid individuals with similar goals and values. We walk with a bit of a swagger. A little bit of attitude that we are destined to great things now and in the future. It feels good. We are cynical in a sense, disenfranchised with the things we see around us. However, I see us as more idealistic than anything as our most cynical moments stem from a frustration that things can be done better. We often find ourselves starting on observations that are close to our sphere of influence only to find ourselves miles above thinking of the big picture, how what we are doing fits into this crazy world, and how we want to make it better. My buddies here are guys that will undoubtedly go down different life paths and different journeys than me, however they are the kind of buddies that I will forever be honored to work with in any future endeavor, no matter the time lapsed between our last exchange.

It is a great feeling to be surrounded by great people. I live my life by constantly surrounding myself with good people. Being deployed is interesting because it amplifies normal life. You need about 10% of the time you normally need to read somebody through and through. With that enhanced people reading capability comes the good the bad and the ugly. I have used my time to see what I do and do not want to become as a person.

I finish my eggs, bacon, and mound of fresh fruit and we head for the exit. We begin the walk back to our office building and I can't help but notice how good the eucalyptus trees smell in the morning. I gaze to my left and see the man made lake that Saddam built. Victory Base Complex is showered with palaces, lakes, and a few leftover trees, all of which are out of place but are aesthetically pleasing nonetheless. I had heard that at one point Saddam stole 80% of Baghdad's water supply to create the clean water lakes that line what is now Victory. For an asshole he really knew how to decorate the place. I think how amazing the grounds must have looked before we got here. I wonder what they will look like after we leave. I am feeling grateful and thankful for the amenities that I have had on my first deployment. It is amazing how a little sunlight, a full belly, and a little walk in the morning can cheer you up....even with a 12-14 hour day ahead of you. We get to our building door and the day begins.

To Be Continued...

The Deployment Mirror - Part I

I was talking to my wife the other day and she asked me why I never write about being deployed? I didn't really have an answer for her. I guess I don't really think that my day to day activities are that exciting. When I told her that she said that she is constantly getting asked by friends and family what my life is like over here. She explained that she often did have answers to the little questions that people ask. That moment kind of made me feel bad like I hadn't let the ones I care about into my life over here enough. Perhaps I had been too concerned with my own sanity by wanting to know everything that was happening "on the outside" without me, and not concerned enough with giving my family and friends a glimpse into the world that has become my own over these last three months. After than conversation I actually started to get excited about the possibilities of writing a week in the life of post. My vision is to have the post read much less like a checklist of events and more like an experience through my senses. I haven't written in this fashion very often and I do not really know where this is going, so hopefully it turns out to be good. If you have any questions feel free to ask them in the comments and I will do my best to answer them.

Chapter 1 - Monday:
The wave is bright and swift. Dragging me upwards like a powerful fluid vine ascending rapidly towards a destination unknown. The awful noise started far off at first. A repetitive wailing that approached me with a hunter's precision. Familiarity crept into my mind, yet I still could not place the sounds flooding my memory. The light pulling me upwards increased its intensity and my pace exponentially increased. I could feel my heart beating faster as the pulsating far off noise that plagued my mind intensified. As my rapid heartbeat hit a final note my eyes clicked wide open in unison. I was awake. My Westclox battery powered alarm clock had reached the second stage alarm that was even more annoying and awful sounding than the first set of beeps.

I had been having intense and very strange dreams since arriving in Baghdad almost three months ago. Some weird, some good, and few awful night terrors. It is amazing how diet, long hours, and intense workouts can change your sleep patterns. I leaned over and turned off the alarm and saw that it was 6:22 AM. I had made it through two minutes of my mind piercing alarm while struggling to surface from my ethereal dream. I reached for my laptop and cracked it open. My email account, left open from the night before, had six new messages. After deleting a couple LinkedIn updates and a Walmart.com promotion I started to read an email from Chris, a friend who works with me on Checking For Charity. As great as it was to see the charity I helped create flourishing in my absence, it also stung a bit being separated from it. The opportunity to be a part of something like my charity is just one of the many things I took for granted just three short months ago.

I open my Skype account and double click the Heidicell icon. It rings three times and I hear the voice I love hearing every morning. Luckily my room is equipped with wireless internet capability, which has made Skype a godsend for myself and countless members of the armed forces before me. I quickly think of the experiences both my Grandfathers had during World War II and feel a bit of guilt for my "wartime" amenities. My guilt is rapidly washed away by my wife's voice. We are on a ten hour time difference so the call times actually work out relatively well. We talk during my morning time and at least once during my night hours. I wonder how much harder my experience would be if I didn't have the chance to talk to her at will?

We catch up on her day and what her plans are for the week. She asks what my plans are for the week. I say little and quickly change the subject. For some reason it has proven difficult to share to her and my family back home. Maybe their lives are my only escape? Maybe I am just to lazy to try explain experiences out here that are relatively mundane and do not exactly lift my spirits? I tell her I love her and that I have to get ready for work.

I get out of my bed catch the unpleasant whiff of whatever chemical they use while boiling my laundry. My legs are still stiff from Saturday's workout. I walk over to the small TV that was left behind in my room that is used more for a nightstand than anything else and I grab my electronic razor. I step around to the side of my wall locker where I have taped up a cheap mirror from the base exchange and I begin to shave. My beard has been ridiculous out here. I have five o'clock shadow by noon every day. I attribute my enhanced beard growth to shaving seven days a week. No full days off out here. I finish shaving and gather a few clothes off of the floor to place in my laundry bag. I look around my CHU (containerized housing unit) and think how appalled my wife would be if our room looked like this at home. I have had little free time since I arrived at the Victory Base Complex almost three months ago and even less time that I am willing to spend organizing my trailer. For me, it was good enough.

I threw on my bathrobe and flip flops, always a conversation starter out here, grabbed my shower caddy and opened front door to head towards the showers. My face is slapped with the thick desert air. Baghdad is hot. There is no way around it. I have been to Arizona, California, Mexico, Jamaica, and numerous other places all of which are pretty hot during their summer months, however there is not a place on earth that I have found that has hotter air than Iraq. Every day feels like a hot blow dryer is being directed right in your face. Luckily, I have just left the confines of my CHU where I have had an oversized air conditioner pumping in cold air since I arrived in May. The warmth actually feels good against my face. I turn around and lock my CHU door, not out of fear of theft during my time in the shower, but because my Beretta M9 and clips of ammunition are laying on the empty bed on the other side of my room. Another reminder that life is a little different out here.

I walk through the dusty gravel that has become my city's concrete out here and across my 'street' to the shower trailer. I weave through the giant concrete T-walls used to protect the CHU's from mortar and rocket attacks. The door slams shut behind me and I am greeted by the overpowering stench of mold and sitting water. I see Heichs' and Sheeman's towels and shorts hanging from their respective favorite shower stalls. "What's up rookies," I shout out. "Did you check out the new quotes," asks Heichs. I quickly gaze over to the wall and see the picture of a not so loved senior officer that recently returned home. Someone put up her picture with some quotations next to it. We gave up trying to figure out who did it a few weeks back. The weekly addition of new quotes next to the picture speaks volumes of the impact she had on the culture and morale of the office, especially since her peers frequent these same showers and had yet to take her pseudo shrine down. Her mocked persona is a blunt lesson in leadership, just one of the many I have been exposed to in my short time in the desert.

I jump in the shower and begin the challenging task of adequately washing in the 2x2 foot shower stall. The water pressure is good but it is difficult to wash without banging loudly against the cheap plastic stalls. I am grateful for a daily shower though. I rinse off and brush my teeth in the shower and crack a few jokes with the boys before walking back to my CHU. The heat has become a bit less pleasurable as my hours of nightly air conditioning exposure begins to wear. I unlock my CHU and catch a glimpse of the clock that plagued my dreams just a short while ago. It reads 7:01 AM. I had nine minutes to get dressed and head to breakfast.

I throw on my ABU's (airman battle uniform) and curse the bastard who designed it. The winter weight denim texture is a slap in the face to those out in Iraq. We can spend billion's on a war effort but we can't even give deployed troops a non-winter weight uniform in Baghdad. The Navy did it right by adopting the Army's lightweight, athletic cut uniform. The Air Force tried to develop their own identity and instead developed a camouflage horse blanket. The uniform had become a constant gripe amongst our crowd. I think back to the other amenities I have and the fact I am walking into my own room and immediately feel the guilt creep back into my psyche. I wash down a daily vitamin and cruise Facebook for a few minutes before the guys stop by and grab me on the way to breakfast. The social networking site is both a blessing and a curse while deployed. It can be a great way to remain connected to people stateside. It is a way to feel that you are still a part of people's lives stateside. But it can also serve as a constant reminder that your time over here is time away from the life you have built, and it is time that you will never get back.

My guilt is eased slightly by the realization that with the new ways of war come new challenges. My Grandfathers' way of war is gone, and with it the unique challenges they faced. My situation is what it is and all I can do is get by the best I can. The true sacrifice is being away from those you care about. It isn't the lack of everyday conveniences we as a nation have become so accustomed to. People always say that life is like a roller coaster. You are always faced with the ups and downs. If life is like a roller coaster, then deployed life is the biggest damn roller coaster I have ever been on. The ups and downs are much more frequent and they seem to be more intense, if only just in my mind. My morale and daily mood is of constant importance and I try to actively ensure that I am balanced mentally. I cannot imagine the effects that some of my Army brethren are going through 'outside the wire'. Once again, I feel bad for my self pity. Be grateful for what you have, I tell myself before....

Bang, bang, bang. The door handle rattles back and forth after the obnoxious knock of my friends. I stand up and shut down my laptop. It is time to head to breakfast.

To Be Continued.....

A Taste Of Home

So I have been toying around with a Flip Video ever since I left on my deployment. The thing is great for shooting simple short videos which is exactly what I have been using it for. I think it will be a great way to let all my family and friends know what I am doing while I am away. I have been having a hard time describing what it is like to my wife, family and friends because it is so difficult to describe something so different from what any of them have experienced. It is like trying to describe a color. How do you tell someone what red looks like? Maybe I am just not as descriptive in speaking as I am while writing but regardless I need to get better at ensuring that my important human connections feel connected to my daily life while I am away, if for nothing other than for my wife's sanity.

I must say it is a pretty awkward feeling when you are by yourself talking to a camera so my hat goes off to all the video bloggers out there. I plan on setting up a YouTube page and getting it organized so that people who care can get a little taste of what my experiences are like over here in Iraq. The one thing that I have noticed in the few videos I have shot is how different things can come across in video versus just writing about them. You only get one shot to say how you feel on camera so it is a bit different than editing a blog post and it definitely feels a bit more invasive and personal. I guess it is something I will just have to get comfortable with. Well here is a short clip and my inaugural video blog post. Stay tuned for more and for an organized YouTube page with more clips.

A Combat Landing - Welcome To Your New World

I reached up weakly, my arm shaking from stress, starvation, and a lack of sleep to wipe my sweat soaked brow. I gazed down at my drenched palm and eventually looked past it through the netting of my jump seat down to my dusty backpack. Suddenly the weathered C-130 I was crammed into with forty other people from various services and agencies simultaneously took a hard banking turn and started an intense dive. As we spiraled downward I knew we were making a combat landing into Baghdad and that this was fairly routine. But I couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy as the iron lung that held my life within began to groan and creak like a dying steel mammoth taking its last agonizing steps on a journey too far. I looked around the steamy innards of the beast and was struck by the intense silence of everyone on board. The faces of my comrades reassured me that my emotional duress was shared. Then suddenly I heard a loud crash. I felt my chinstrap clinging intently to the Kevlar helmet resting on my head, and I choked mildly as my flack vest rose with the impact. We had landed safely......I was in Iraq.

Not only did my over dramatic description above actually happen in the last week, but it also serves as a metaphor to my entire deployment experience since landing in Baghdad, Iraq. A combat landing is a short, intense and overwhelmingly new experience. As has been my five days or so in Iraq. There are a few things that have really hit me in my first week over here.

This isn't your Grandpa's war story - One of the most striking contradictions to my deployment expectations was what a modern base looks and functions like. I was expecting more of a tent city feel like in the movies. GI's walking around in greasy t-shirts playing cards and hanging out. Not here. There are government and contractor vehicles everywhere. There are contractors from around the world living and functioning alongside the various countries various service members. There are a lot of the things we have in the States, but everything in this "world" functions in a little different manner. It is really hard to describe, but the best I can do is say that nothing is really intuitive when you are plopped down into your new world. Which leads nicely into my next observation.

We take a lot for granted - As I said, nothing is intuitive over here if you have never deployed. I felt like and still feel a bit like a little kid. I went from being fairly self reliant to totally dependent almost overnight. It is a very fragile and frustrating feeling. I literally can never recall ever being so dependent because I was probably too young to remember. My coworkers and friends literally had to teach me how to eat, sleep, shower and more. It was during my initial transitory phase that I started to realize how much I take for granted in American society. Reliable, clean running water is a start. Housing that has most of my health and hygiene needs at my disposal is another. Mostly I took for granted the incredible amount of choice I had back home. Especially the choice of what to do with my time. Here most time is spent on basic health and work, and everything is laid out for the military guys. I can't imagine actually being an Iraqi national and having to do whatever it takes to make a better life for myself and my family. Obviously what choices you have with your time are much more limited. It almost makes me feel a bit guilty for the way I have viewed other countries in the past. As if their actions and interests should always be taken through an American filter. But that is not the case. Each nation has a unique past and a unique set of values that shape and define their existence. To think that others think the way we do is not only false but dangerously naive.

Good people can always get you though - Like most other tough times in my life I have been lucky enough to be surrounded by good people. When you surround yourself with good people life never really gets too shitty. And when it does at least you have some solid people to help get you through it. My deployment so far has been no exception and I have a good group of people that I can laugh with, complain with, talk with, work out with, and pass the time with until that lovely day that I get to go back home to my wife and the life we have built together.

I would love to hear any other observations or lessons from other deployers and how your experience has been different than mine thus far.

BadskiBlog Is Heading To The Sandbox

I was notified this week that I have a short notice tasking to Iraq. My blog may be a little light on content for the next couple weeks as I go through training and transition to my new life for the next 6 months. I fully intend to blog while deployed. I am not sure how often I will be able to post but I will do my best. My blog will undoubtedly shift in parallel with my new surroundings and experiences so I suspect my content to be geared more towards topics like the military, the wars, our political environment, etc. However, seeing as it is my first deployment who knows what will happen with BadskiBlog from here. Stay tuned and please feel free to reach out to me at any time at truecore27@aol.com.