On my way out...

If all goes well, I'll soon be on the plane. 22 hour flight... MU ZIEN.

Ryan

Looking Back...

A year ago I would have thought this was what Iraq would be like, but the desert breeze here is something alien to me after 11 months North across the border. It's hot, but the breeze never lets up. At Anaconda there was free time, but you were never really at ease. You were still in Iraq, you hadn't made it out just yet. Eleven months of built up tension carries with you. Here, it is more laid back. There are no helicopters constantly flying overheard, and the occasional boom can instantly be written off as Ordinance Disposal.
Arriving in the tents at around 2130 local, food was on my mind. The liason here in Kuwait told us not to go out in the storm because it was night and we'd get lost. For some reason, the danger of getting lost in a sandstorm in Kuwait brought out the dry, sarcastic sense of humor in most everyone. So we went out and searched for food, most wearing our dark lenses, some with towels wrapped around their heads to help keep out the dust and sand. We'd heard that there was a Subway open 24 hours, but when we finally found it, the Pakistanis or Bangladeshis that work there were packing up for the night. They've got a McDonalds, a Subway, some Panda Express type chinese place and of course the legendary Green Bean.
Green Bean had been the getaway, the taste of the real world. About every two to three weeks, some mundane task would beckon us to FOB Warhorse (where I spent my last month, about 15 minutes from Gabe), and no matter what the mission called for, the Green Bean coffee and tea shop was fit in. You would walk in and greet the men behind the counter, two friendly Pakistanis who were every bit the barista as the geeky white kid at your local Starbucks (me). And it seemed a little bit like home. A comfortable atmosphere. I'd lay down my weapon and read the stars n' stripes, away from Iraq for a few minutes. Retired Generals are calling for resignation. Some federal agency is being closely examined for mistakes made. The 9/11 scapegoat trial is floundering... What have you. And then you'd skip to page three and read an article by the hippie bearded guy that was roaming around with different 1/68 patrols last week and, oh yeah, hey... I was there. Of course, whatever it was sounds a little better in the endlessly optimistic Stars n' Stripes, but they're definetly talking about last week in Muqeesa. Or that cache down on Old Baghdad Road.
The Green Bean music selection is awesome. A collection of records released by Putumayo (not sure if that's the record company name or the name of the album series), 'Nuevo Arabic Groove' or 'Italian Cafe', always something interesting. The drinks are of a chai focus. They don't have mocha frappucinos, but chocolate chai frappes. It's a good thing, less caffeine the better I figure.
It just hit me. There's a million things you folks would love to hear about Iraq, and the one that I want to talk about is the one that most closely reminds me of the US. I give up. Give me a few days or weeks home and it will change.

I've been working on a little production as of late using an Apple program called iDVD. It's let me put together a DVD presentation of all the pictures I've collected over the last year. It's turning out pretty good... though I probably included far too many pictures. After sharing a bit with others I realize that the photos are much more interesting when you were there or if there's someone there to explain what's happening. At the reunion I promise to put on a little show if we have time. For those of you who won't be there I can mail a copy or just give you one the next time I see you.

It's been a long year. A friend of mine, one who deserves the respect of all of us, lost his life this year. I will not go into what a great person he was, that should be reserved for his family and closest friends who can do him justice. I will say this though, that it took only a few minutes, a short discussion, to see his truth, integrity and goodwill. He is a hero, a hero the caliber of Michael Strong, for those of you who knew him. He touched all that he came into contact with, and a piece of Cheyenne will live inside of me forever. I wish you all could have known him. Below is a picture of him and his little sister Stacy Willey. Stacy forgive me, I know the picture's a little racy, but I love it. :)

I'm only a few days from US soil. I'll see you all soon, I can't wait to be home.

Ryan

Waiting again...

Sitting at Anaconda waiting for everyone else to get here to go home. I ate pizza today. It stunk... greasy and yucky. I dropped my toothbrush on the floor, but it didn't really bother me. Back at Anaconda again... Went to the pool yesterday and got a lil sunburn on my legs. Haven't run much for missions in the last month or so. Been screwin around Anaconda trying to stay busy. RIP went well, good luck to the new guys. Have a good year fellas. In the meantime, I'm GOIN HOME!