Combat Arrival

It's 8:00 am on Friday, and here I am in the hot belly of a C-130 with at least 50 sweaty soldiers and two pallets of luggage. Seats line the outer walls of the aircraft - facing the middle, with two rows back to back running down the middle as well. So we sit, each in our twenty-two inches of posterior room, knees tangled together, carryon luggage in our laps, and we wait. The engine turns, and I assume we must be moving, but there are no windows, making it difficult to tell for sure. I begin to feel claustrophobic as the desert heat forms beads of sweat that soak my clothes. The belly of this plane is not air conditioned, and the loading dock has been sealed, creating air so thick it's hard to breathe. I feel us move, but it seems like we're in reverse. I can't really tell which way we're going, and have to remind myself that the loading dock is at my right, so we must be moving towards my left. I feel the shudder of takeoff...I think...I am so disoriented it's hard to tell. Only when we hit turbulence from moving through the heat am I certain that we are off the ground.

The flight is an hour and a half long, and I am in misery most of the time. My back aches, my hips hurt, and the heavy bag I'm holding on my lap is pressing my thighs into the bar below, cutting off circulation and putting my legs to sleep. There's not enough room to shift in my seat, but there's no way I can sit still.

Meanwhile, the cute little girl soldier across from me sticks a Cheerio in the mouth of a friend who is sleeping so soundly his mouth has fallen open. The guy next to me says he has two kids. He looks at his watch and says they're on the way to go bowling - they go every Thursday night with a program back home for children of deployed members of the Armed Forces. He is on his way to war for a year or more. I don't ask his age, but he he no more than 25. Soon the proud father is asleep, along with just about all the other soldiers, sprawled over each other like family. There are a few other civilians on this flight, and they are the only ones who seem to share my misery. I am humbled by these soldiers, most of whom are 10 years younger than I am.

An hour or so into the flight, I feel the plane lurch and drop. And then again. And again. We are making a combat descent - it makes us a more difficult target for surface-to-air fire and it reminds me of the gravitron at the state fair. We are pulling a few Gs in a C-130, and it's making my stomach turn, my head spin. I'm not sure I can make it without tossing my cookies. Even the soldiers are awake now, with eyes becoming saucers everytime the plane makes a sharp turn while losing quick altitude. All of the planes that land in Baghdad these days use this combat descent. I am thankful I didn't fly commercial. I'm glad to be in the hands of the U.S. Air Force instead of a foreign airline pilot. I feel our wheels graze the ground, and then glide along the tarmac, and I wonder just how long I've been holding my breath.

No Better Than Bananas

I made it to the Middle East! So far my trip has gone impressively well. I got reasonably good reat on the transatlantic flight and have met several very interesting people thus far. I'm at a base now where I will wait 24 hours to fly to Baghdad International (BIAP). I should arrive there sometime Thursday night or Friday morning. The lady in charge of media relations said as far as seat priority goes on the flights to Baghdad, soldiers have first priority, then supplies, and media comes just after produce. So I'm just below bananas. I'm sleeping in a tent here - one of what seems like hundreds of brown tents that are set in rows. My tent is close to the latrine, and I got a bottom bunk. Hopefully I'll only spend one night here. In the internet cafe where I sit now, there are several soldiers using webcams to talk to loves ones. These guys are either on their way home, or, more likely, on their way to spend the next year of their lives in Iraq. They must feel lonely leaving family behind, but these shining smiles as soldiers connect with home - these are priceless.

Today's Concerns

I've made it to D.C. and leave this evening for the Middle East. By this time tomorrow, I will be processing through the airport to gain entrance to Baghdad. I can hardly believe I'm writing this. I can hardly believe I'm doing this! I feel like I should probably be scared right now, but so far I'm just pretty excited. I am nervous about little things. Did I turn the oven off this morning after I grilled my breakfast sandwich? (Yes, I made an egg sandwich at 4:00 in the morning - it's going to be a long day, afterall). I made tea too. I'm pretty sure I turned off the stove. I know I didn't leave my Chi iron on, because I brought it with me. It's funny. I brought a Chi flat iron to do my hair, but when I arrive at port of entry I get to pick up an armored helmet and ballistic eyewear that will likely undo whatever styling the Chi has accomplished. Aside from bring the Chi along, I actually packed very light (though by no means as light as my Papa, who packs so light he has to wash his clothes in the sink every night), but you never know when you'll need to straighten some unruly hair. Did I make a mistake checking my only pair of real shoes? (I'm wearing flip-flops). I can't get on the plane from my port of entry to Baghdad without my shoes. Hopefully my checked pack will make it! I am a little nervous that I won't find the guys that are supposed to meet me at port of entry. Funny that I'm bound for the most dangerous place on this planet, and I'm worried about the same stuff I'd be worried about on any old trip across the Southwest. These are all small things, but I do have one serious concern. My biggest stressor is worrying about my family and friends who are worrying about me, because my decision to do this - I'm guessing - has caused some concern. Hopefully reading about my experiences will get you all excited about what I'm doing and alleviate some fears. Most thing aren't as as dramatic on the inside as they seem from the outside.

I look forward to writing my next post from a land far away.

a great adventure

One week from tomorrow I leave for Baghdad, the last place on earth I ever thought of visiting at a time like this. Individual body armor has been procured, along with kevlar helmet and ballistic eyewear. The Nikon and its lenses are packed and ready to go, and new hiking boots have been faithfully broken-in. There are details yet to attend to, but I am ready.


Though I never expected to find myself in a warzone of any kind, my circumstances have led me to this place, and I wait with anticipation for arrival in Iraq. I go to write, and will surely capture what I see on camera from time to time. I hope to send home a different, non-mainstream-media perspective on the war and the plight of soldiers and citizens. This will be an adventure to be sure. I am nervous, but excited anticipation prevails at the thought of being witness to what I hope to be the turning point in a war that will be serve as a landmark in the history of our nation. This conflict that lingers over the graves of men and women of Biblical fame is set in a land that is full of history, both brutal and beautiful; and I am eager to see those places of ancient history and history-in-the-making.


My plan is to write a news column for several publications. I will update this blog as I am inspired to do so. Feel free to comment, and to pray for wisdom, inspiration, and safety.