A Battlefield Tourist

Hurry Up and Wait

Sep 8 at 2:02am by David Tate

Military folks know exactly what “hurry up and wait” means.  Same goes for us folks that deal with the military.  Hasn’t changed in the 20 years since I was in the Corps, nor would I expect it to.

By now, I should be writing from some MWR on some FOB somewhere around Baghdad, but I’m not.  Still coming to you from the business center of a very nice hotel in Kuwait City, due to some physical and material issues.

The biggest problem was that we needed our Individual Travel Orders (ITO) to get anywhere in Iraq.  These are real orders processed by the US Army that, in a nutshell, give you permission to travel within conflict zones encompassed by OEF and OIF,  includingthe United States.  Roggio had hoped to get the orders via email or fax, but without a secured line, it wasn’t something the military was interested in doing.  The soonest we could get them hand delivered would be late Friday night.  Our flight to Baghdad was set for Friday morning, meaning two days of field time would be spent at the hotel in Kuwait.

It actually works out well considering the turmoil my guts had been in from the day before.  Roggio himself came down with some funk that put him in the rack for much of Friday as well, so there really weren’t too many tears about shaking off the jet lag in a nice hotel versus a hot tent at Al Salem Airbase out in the Kuwaiti desert (http://www.globalsecurity.org/military/facility/ali-al-salem.htm).

That meant that there might be a chance to get the power cable I need to get my PC up and running.  As mentioned yesterday, the morning excursion into downtown was fruitless, but by now, everything inthe city was bustling with post-mosque activity, so I tried again.  Besides, I wanted to go buy some swim trunks since we were staying a few more nights at the hotel… R’n R was in order.

A real simple walk to the street plus a short wait later and I was in a taxi heading to the Mariana Mall.  The taxi driver said it was the second biggest mall in Kuwait, definitely bigger than any I’d ever been in.  It’s here that I heard there was an APPLE store.  I could be in luck.  The five minute trip runs 3 Kuwati dinars (KD), which is roughly $12.  Either Kuwait is terribly expensive or the US dollar isn’t worth crap overseas.  Maybe a combination of both?

It didn’t take long at all to find the store and when I saw it, I swear I heard those singers from heaven raining down on me.  I was in luck.  The store was very nice and just plum full of APPLE stuff, but do you think they would have a power cord, among all this stuff?  Hell no they didn’t.  What a load of crap.  Now I’ve spent at least the cost of a cord in two taxi trips only to come up empty handed.  Guess that means I’m shipping the PC back to the states once I get to a US post office on some FOB, somewhere near Baghdad.  In situations like this, the less weight you carry, the better.

While at the mall, I did take the time to look for some swimming trunks, which I found.  A decent pair:  Just regular long legged California-surfer types.  Original price:  19KD.  Sale price:  8KD.  You do the math.  EXPENSIVE!  Way out of my league.  Unfortunately the allure of swimming in the Persian Gulf won the day and I headed out with half of what I came for.

My taxi driver on the way home was a very nice man who said he was from Iran.  I take time, everytime, to talk to the drivers.  Between my limited Arabic and their limited English, it proves to always be a fun conversation.  My interest with these folks is their perception of the US.  Since 2004 I have seen, and suffered, some serious anti-Americanism, so I’m always up for checking the pulse of the places I visit.  On this trip, my driver had a worried feel when we he said he was Iranian, “I know Americans don’t like Iranian people”, he said.  “Not the case my friend, I think the problem is with our governments”, I said.  He smiled.  “Do you like America?”, I asked.  With a big smile he said, “America is very good.  My sister’s been there 22 years and I’d like to go one day”.  He told me he came to Kuwait just after the Iraqis were pushed out following the invasion and kept calling, then-President Bush, “Baba Bush”.  “Baba” is an endearing term of respect along the lines of “Papa”.  A clear sign of his like for the United States.  My other two drivers were from Bangladesh.  One said, when asked about the states, “Oh.. America is very good.  Britain is very good.  France is very good.”  The other referred to the United States as, “the heaven of the world”.  Needless to say, I was very happy to hear these words from these folks.  Remind you that these were not Kuwaitis, who were rescued by allied forces from the clutches of Saddam, they were just ordinary people from different places and walks of life.  It was certainly encouraging.

Back at the hotel, Roggio and I took in some lunch at which time I tried shark fin soup.  Let me start by saying that I am firmly against shark fin soup.  The appetite worldwide for this delicacy is causing some serious problems within the shark world.  Not only that, but these creatures are caught solely for their fins before being thrown back to the sea.  So, after wrestling with my dilemma for a bit, I decided it was my duty to find out what the fuss was about.  Keep in mind, that I do what I do so others don’t have to.  I mean who needs to go to Iraq to see the truth when independents, like me, go for you?  Same philosophy.  Needless to say, it was very good soup.  Mixed with crab meat, I definitely wanted more.  So now you (we) know.  Please boycott this soup.

With our travel plans needing to change, so did accommodations.  The first night here I slept in a huge bed in a single room.  Now that we were staying two more nights, we decided it was best that we move to a double room in an effort to save money.  Unfortunately, I still had to tip the bellboy for moving our gear from our rooms to the lobby (where we checked out), then back to our new room (after we checked back in).  What a racket!

Now all  that was left for the day was to get our hands on the orders that would get us into Iraq.  That meant a 9:30 PM meeting at the Kuwait City Airport with the local Public Affairs Officer(PAO).  Remember the title of this entry?  You got it.  For two hours we waited at the rendevous point (Starbucks), asking every American who looked like a serviceman if he was our guy (we were on the lookout for a Marine Gunnery Sergeant).  20 rejections later a nice-looking lady with long hair approached me, “Mr. Tate?”.   She turned out to be a 1st Lieutenant with the 1st Army Division.  Finally… the elusive ITOs were in our hands and we were finally set to head out on Sunday.

*Note to embedding journos:  Ensure you arrange to meet your PAO at the airport WHEN YOU LAND.  In normal circumstances, they’ll meet you AND take you to Al Salem.  We are flying in on a commercial flight, so we did it a little different, which is NOT the norm.