Taking Leave from Iraq
I recently had my two week leave away from Iraq. I'm back now in Iraq but very glad that the Army gives us that mid-tour break halfway through our year in Iraq! The trip home is a logistical nightmare that reminded me of the movie "Planes, Trains and Automobiles"... but the travel was well worth it. First we had to take helicopters to bases within Iraq and then fly a four engine Air Force propeller driven plane (C-130) to Kuwait. Then the Army charters a civilian airline (747) to fly us from Kuwait to Germany to Atlanta. Everyone on the plane is on their mid-tour break- soldiers and Marines from units all across Iraq. It was a very happy plane!
I spent my two weeks in the Northeast: Washington, DC; New York; Hartford and Boston. In Washington I attended an event for Business Executives for National Security and was asked to speak before around 200 people. I followed up speeches by three four star Generals and Admirals...so I was a little out of my league but felt pretty good about the speech. Someone afterwards told me I should have mentioned that of the four of us- I was the only one who had actually served in Iraq...that comment probably wouldn't have helped my already ailing military career! I received great feedback after the speech and most people said they were encouraged and surprised that someone so recently back would be so positive and optimistic about our mission. Photos from the speeches can be found at: http://www.bens.org/WhatsNew_Events_Forum2005.html
I also visited Capitol Hill and met with several members of Congress who were interested in news from the frontlines. Over the years I've been fortunate to have met a number of Congressmen and Senators and they are obviously very interested in Iraq. One in particular is Congressman Bob Inglis (South Carolina) who showed me around the Capitol and introduced me to many Congressmen. It was a unique honor to be on leave from Iraq and to have members of Congress thanking me for my service. I wish every soldier could have that experience.
Time with family was great. I spent time with my family in Hartford (parents and brother) and Boston (sister and her husband and one year old). It was kind of difficult since it was Memorial Day Weekend and all of the ceremonies to honor the fallen soldiers were constant reminders to my parents of the war and that I had to go back. The first half of the leave was exciting and fun, but came with it a little bit of adjustment back into normal American life: the sights, the sounds...just seeing women! It was a very strange feeling. Just as I was finally getting adjusted I had to start thinking about going back.
In NYC I spoke before an audience of around 20 executives at a dinner in NYC at another BENS event. Several colleagues from work were in attendance and it was great to see them. I was able to see and catch up with many friends throughout the trip, but didn't make many phone calls and I apologize to many of you for not catching up. If I had been back permanently I would have been excited to catch up with everyone...since I was returning I just wanted some time alone.
I don't recall buying a meal or a drink the entire time on leave- everybody I met, strangers even, were so supportive. All of the other soldiers I spoke with later had the same experience- the American public was incredibly grateful and supportive. The second half of leave was tough getting ready to say good-bye to everyone and make the long journey back to Iraq. On the one hand it was good to feel that I was on my last segment of the journey and nearing the end of the deployment, on the other hand, the trip back reminded me of returning to West Point as a Plebe after Christmas break...and the feeling in the pit of my stomach wondering "why am I doing this?" But West Point trained us well and I was prepared for those feelings. All things considered I wanted to return to Iraq to finish my tour but it's normal to have some apprehension.
We all had to make our own individual way back on civilian airline flights to Atlanta where we congregated to meet the charter flight that would take us across the ocean. We are required to wear our desert uniforms the entire way back and that drew many stares in NYC as I hailed a taxi. The cab driver who took me from NYC to Newark refused to take my money because I was heading for Iraq. I ran into some other soldiers in Newark and the mood of the crowd was a noticable difference from fourteen days earlier. Everyone had just said goodbye (again) to their families before heading back to Iraq. The strain was visible on the faces of everyone going back. The officers and NCO's tried to put on a happy face as much as possible without appearing either overly optimistic or completely insane! We flew to Atlanta and checked into the USO area at the Atlanta International Airport where the three hundred soldiers who had flown together to the US were all assembling for our flight back to Iraq together.
After we had all checked in they walked us as a group through the airport to drop off our luggage at the counter. As we walked through the airport (all wearing desert fatigues) someone shouted out "these troops are going back to Iraq" and the whole place went wild...people started cheering and everyone got to their feet, several people came up and shook our hands as we walked past them...it was quite sudden and quite shocking. I happened to be on my cell phone at the time and my friend could hear the sudden noise and she said it was very moving and inspiring. It definitely boosted the morale of everyone returning to Iraq and we all appreciate such a gesture.
After checking our bags and going through security (yes, even though I was in uniform heading back to Iraq I was searched and had to strip down to just my pants...no boots...no belt...take off the top...). Anyway after the strip search we had five hours to kill waiting for our charter. Most of us walked around the terminal and ate food before the fifteen hour flight to Kuwait, (which would be followed by several other fixed wing and helo flights taking a total of about four days). I was walking around alone just checking out the airport and ended up taking an escalator up back up to the terminal for the flight. I'd almost forgotten that I was wearing desert fatigues and how strange that must have appeared to the civilians in the airport. I was looking upward as the escalator took me up to the terminal. From behind me a little hand grabbed my hand and I turned around. A little boy, probably three years old was there and he said "thank you for beating the bad guys." His mother, right beside him, was beaming and had obviously been the architect of this plot! It was one of those moments that will be seared into my memory of returning to Iraq. It was pretty cool! I was ready to go back.
We flew to Kuwait and then by military transport into Baghdad. I stayed the night in Baghdad but fortunately for me I had to fly to the country of Jordan the next day for a two day economic conference. I was very excited about that opportunity to get into, and back out of Iraq, so quickly! That night in Baghdad I learned that a friend of mine up at my base (FOB Danger) had been killed along with one other officer. CPT Phil Esposito was a fellow West Point graduate (but much younger than I.) We had met at Ft. Drum in the fall as we prepared to deploy. I had met Phil in the fall as we prepared to deploy to Iraq. My last discussion with Phil was in Tikrit prior to taking leave in May. Ironically, he talked about West Point and how it had changed his life. He was married and had a baby daughter. I didn't know him all that well but I saw him often and we would always go out of our way to say hi to each other. Frankly, I don't know too many people that I'm serving with all that well...I didn't know a single person in this division before joining it in September, so while most of these people have known each other for years, I only met them in the fall. But they have been great in making me and others who joined the unit in an ad hoc fashion feel like part of the family. Phil was known by everyone because he was the company commander for the division's officers- the headquarters company commander. He was just a really nice, honest guy.
The other officer killed (1LT Allen) was someone whom I didn't know. He had just arrived in Iraq while I was on leave and was only on his fourth day in Iraq. He leaves behind a wife and four children, all under six years of age. It was a very sad day for all of us.
The next day I had to continue on my mission and hopped on a Royal Jordanians Airline with my friend, Mark (another Army Captain) to fly from Baghdad to Jordan. Mark had had some stomach problems for the past month or so (which is not unique here, everyone is always coming down with strange ailments usually referred to as the "Iraq crud"). He thought it was probably the food or water. On day one in Jordan he experienced terrible pains in his stomach that kept him bed ridden in between trips to the bathroom. I attended two economic conferences while Mark stayed in the hotel hoping to wait out the stomach problems. They became worse. He could not hold down food or water and was rapidly becoming dehydrated. Instead of going to a Jordanian hospital (which we did not want to do unless he was on his death bed) we flew back to Iraq to go to an Army hospital. It took two days to get into Iraq and to get to the number one trauma hospital in Iraq.
Travel in the war zone is very difficult, with all the gear, the heat, the civilian luggage, the military luggage from our trip to Jordan...getting in and out of vehicles and aircraft. It's challenging even when you're feeling well. In the condition he was in I was inspired that he continued on, stopping in bathrooms and porta potties every couple of minutes. The trauma center where we finally arrived is the central location where all casualties from across Iraq are brought. They are brought into this one central location and flights leave at least once a day taking all the US casualties to Germany to our best hospital in Europe for further treatment.
I helped Mark get into the ER to receive treatment. Since his was not a life or limb wound, the doctors would treat him, and then be interrupted as casualties would be coming in- both Iraqi and American. The first two were Iraqis- one sucking chest wound and one head wound. The head wound appeared to be fatal but the chest wound was quickly brought under control as two teams of doctors and nurses worked frantically to save their lives about ten feet away from us. To say it is a hospital gives a poor description because one would imagine it is a hard structure or a building. Actually it is a series of tents under which the doctors work their magic. As the medivac's fly in with the wounded and land close by it is impossible to hear over the helicopter's rotors- and there were nearly always helicopters flying in.
The next three casualties to be brought in were Marines who had all been hit by the same IED (roadside bomb). I spoke with the medivac pilot who had picked them up on the side of the road. He said that the vehicle was so badly damaged he couldn't even recognize the type of vehicle it had been so badly destroyed...could have been a HUMVEE or it could have been a five ton. He didn't know. But they were all going to make it- the vehicle had been destroyed but it had taken the brunt of the explosion and saved them. One of the Marines was screaming. His wounds were the least of the three but he was obviously very scared and in pain.
Mark's CAT scan showed his stomach was a mess but they couldn't figure out what was doing it. He was so dehydrated that they stuck him with the IV nine times but his veins kept collapsing. The pain was so great they finally put him on morphine and vicadin. Finally, after six days of intense pain, he could relax.
The wounded continued to flow in. Between the Iraqis and the Americans there are dozens every day. The wounded are flown out steadily to Germany where every available medical specialist stands by to treat the wounded. From the time they are wounded to the time they reach Germany is only a couple of hours. It is an incredible effort to save every life and limb. Visiting this trauma center was also a grim reminder to me of the cost of the war. My first job when I left the army was in medical device sales. I'd spent a lot of time in ER's and Operating rooms in some of the best trauma hospitals in the US- (such as Cook County and San Francisco General) so I'd seen my share of trauma. But there is something about seeing a wounded soldier that is different- even if the wound is exactly the same as at Cook County. Knowing that this young person laying there all torn up had volunteered to fight for his country and was now in this far off country fighting for his own life. It was much harder to witness than anything I'd seen in the states- even if the wounds were exactly alike. This place was not for the faint of heart.
After Mark was in the good hands of our doctors I needed to fly to Baghdad for a meeting. He would eventually be flown all the way back to Walter Reed Medical Center in DC. As I write this on 16 June they still do not know what is wrong. I had only been back from leave for a few days, but leave was already a distant memory. It was time to go to the helipad and talk my way into a helicopter ride to my next destination. It was time to go to work.
I spent my two weeks in the Northeast: Washington, DC; New York; Hartford and Boston. In Washington I attended an event for Business Executives for National Security and was asked to speak before around 200 people. I followed up speeches by three four star Generals and Admirals...so I was a little out of my league but felt pretty good about the speech. Someone afterwards told me I should have mentioned that of the four of us- I was the only one who had actually served in Iraq...that comment probably wouldn't have helped my already ailing military career! I received great feedback after the speech and most people said they were encouraged and surprised that someone so recently back would be so positive and optimistic about our mission. Photos from the speeches can be found at: http://www.bens.org/WhatsNew_Events_Forum2005.html
I also visited Capitol Hill and met with several members of Congress who were interested in news from the frontlines. Over the years I've been fortunate to have met a number of Congressmen and Senators and they are obviously very interested in Iraq. One in particular is Congressman Bob Inglis (South Carolina) who showed me around the Capitol and introduced me to many Congressmen. It was a unique honor to be on leave from Iraq and to have members of Congress thanking me for my service. I wish every soldier could have that experience.
Time with family was great. I spent time with my family in Hartford (parents and brother) and Boston (sister and her husband and one year old). It was kind of difficult since it was Memorial Day Weekend and all of the ceremonies to honor the fallen soldiers were constant reminders to my parents of the war and that I had to go back. The first half of the leave was exciting and fun, but came with it a little bit of adjustment back into normal American life: the sights, the sounds...just seeing women! It was a very strange feeling. Just as I was finally getting adjusted I had to start thinking about going back.
In NYC I spoke before an audience of around 20 executives at a dinner in NYC at another BENS event. Several colleagues from work were in attendance and it was great to see them. I was able to see and catch up with many friends throughout the trip, but didn't make many phone calls and I apologize to many of you for not catching up. If I had been back permanently I would have been excited to catch up with everyone...since I was returning I just wanted some time alone.
I don't recall buying a meal or a drink the entire time on leave- everybody I met, strangers even, were so supportive. All of the other soldiers I spoke with later had the same experience- the American public was incredibly grateful and supportive. The second half of leave was tough getting ready to say good-bye to everyone and make the long journey back to Iraq. On the one hand it was good to feel that I was on my last segment of the journey and nearing the end of the deployment, on the other hand, the trip back reminded me of returning to West Point as a Plebe after Christmas break...and the feeling in the pit of my stomach wondering "why am I doing this?" But West Point trained us well and I was prepared for those feelings. All things considered I wanted to return to Iraq to finish my tour but it's normal to have some apprehension.
We all had to make our own individual way back on civilian airline flights to Atlanta where we congregated to meet the charter flight that would take us across the ocean. We are required to wear our desert uniforms the entire way back and that drew many stares in NYC as I hailed a taxi. The cab driver who took me from NYC to Newark refused to take my money because I was heading for Iraq. I ran into some other soldiers in Newark and the mood of the crowd was a noticable difference from fourteen days earlier. Everyone had just said goodbye (again) to their families before heading back to Iraq. The strain was visible on the faces of everyone going back. The officers and NCO's tried to put on a happy face as much as possible without appearing either overly optimistic or completely insane! We flew to Atlanta and checked into the USO area at the Atlanta International Airport where the three hundred soldiers who had flown together to the US were all assembling for our flight back to Iraq together.
After we had all checked in they walked us as a group through the airport to drop off our luggage at the counter. As we walked through the airport (all wearing desert fatigues) someone shouted out "these troops are going back to Iraq" and the whole place went wild...people started cheering and everyone got to their feet, several people came up and shook our hands as we walked past them...it was quite sudden and quite shocking. I happened to be on my cell phone at the time and my friend could hear the sudden noise and she said it was very moving and inspiring. It definitely boosted the morale of everyone returning to Iraq and we all appreciate such a gesture.
After checking our bags and going through security (yes, even though I was in uniform heading back to Iraq I was searched and had to strip down to just my pants...no boots...no belt...take off the top...). Anyway after the strip search we had five hours to kill waiting for our charter. Most of us walked around the terminal and ate food before the fifteen hour flight to Kuwait, (which would be followed by several other fixed wing and helo flights taking a total of about four days). I was walking around alone just checking out the airport and ended up taking an escalator up back up to the terminal for the flight. I'd almost forgotten that I was wearing desert fatigues and how strange that must have appeared to the civilians in the airport. I was looking upward as the escalator took me up to the terminal. From behind me a little hand grabbed my hand and I turned around. A little boy, probably three years old was there and he said "thank you for beating the bad guys." His mother, right beside him, was beaming and had obviously been the architect of this plot! It was one of those moments that will be seared into my memory of returning to Iraq. It was pretty cool! I was ready to go back.
We flew to Kuwait and then by military transport into Baghdad. I stayed the night in Baghdad but fortunately for me I had to fly to the country of Jordan the next day for a two day economic conference. I was very excited about that opportunity to get into, and back out of Iraq, so quickly! That night in Baghdad I learned that a friend of mine up at my base (FOB Danger) had been killed along with one other officer. CPT Phil Esposito was a fellow West Point graduate (but much younger than I.) We had met at Ft. Drum in the fall as we prepared to deploy. I had met Phil in the fall as we prepared to deploy to Iraq. My last discussion with Phil was in Tikrit prior to taking leave in May. Ironically, he talked about West Point and how it had changed his life. He was married and had a baby daughter. I didn't know him all that well but I saw him often and we would always go out of our way to say hi to each other. Frankly, I don't know too many people that I'm serving with all that well...I didn't know a single person in this division before joining it in September, so while most of these people have known each other for years, I only met them in the fall. But they have been great in making me and others who joined the unit in an ad hoc fashion feel like part of the family. Phil was known by everyone because he was the company commander for the division's officers- the headquarters company commander. He was just a really nice, honest guy.
The other officer killed (1LT Allen) was someone whom I didn't know. He had just arrived in Iraq while I was on leave and was only on his fourth day in Iraq. He leaves behind a wife and four children, all under six years of age. It was a very sad day for all of us.
The next day I had to continue on my mission and hopped on a Royal Jordanians Airline with my friend, Mark (another Army Captain) to fly from Baghdad to Jordan. Mark had had some stomach problems for the past month or so (which is not unique here, everyone is always coming down with strange ailments usually referred to as the "Iraq crud"). He thought it was probably the food or water. On day one in Jordan he experienced terrible pains in his stomach that kept him bed ridden in between trips to the bathroom. I attended two economic conferences while Mark stayed in the hotel hoping to wait out the stomach problems. They became worse. He could not hold down food or water and was rapidly becoming dehydrated. Instead of going to a Jordanian hospital (which we did not want to do unless he was on his death bed) we flew back to Iraq to go to an Army hospital. It took two days to get into Iraq and to get to the number one trauma hospital in Iraq.
Travel in the war zone is very difficult, with all the gear, the heat, the civilian luggage, the military luggage from our trip to Jordan...getting in and out of vehicles and aircraft. It's challenging even when you're feeling well. In the condition he was in I was inspired that he continued on, stopping in bathrooms and porta potties every couple of minutes. The trauma center where we finally arrived is the central location where all casualties from across Iraq are brought. They are brought into this one central location and flights leave at least once a day taking all the US casualties to Germany to our best hospital in Europe for further treatment.
I helped Mark get into the ER to receive treatment. Since his was not a life or limb wound, the doctors would treat him, and then be interrupted as casualties would be coming in- both Iraqi and American. The first two were Iraqis- one sucking chest wound and one head wound. The head wound appeared to be fatal but the chest wound was quickly brought under control as two teams of doctors and nurses worked frantically to save their lives about ten feet away from us. To say it is a hospital gives a poor description because one would imagine it is a hard structure or a building. Actually it is a series of tents under which the doctors work their magic. As the medivac's fly in with the wounded and land close by it is impossible to hear over the helicopter's rotors- and there were nearly always helicopters flying in.
The next three casualties to be brought in were Marines who had all been hit by the same IED (roadside bomb). I spoke with the medivac pilot who had picked them up on the side of the road. He said that the vehicle was so badly damaged he couldn't even recognize the type of vehicle it had been so badly destroyed...could have been a HUMVEE or it could have been a five ton. He didn't know. But they were all going to make it- the vehicle had been destroyed but it had taken the brunt of the explosion and saved them. One of the Marines was screaming. His wounds were the least of the three but he was obviously very scared and in pain.
Mark's CAT scan showed his stomach was a mess but they couldn't figure out what was doing it. He was so dehydrated that they stuck him with the IV nine times but his veins kept collapsing. The pain was so great they finally put him on morphine and vicadin. Finally, after six days of intense pain, he could relax.
The wounded continued to flow in. Between the Iraqis and the Americans there are dozens every day. The wounded are flown out steadily to Germany where every available medical specialist stands by to treat the wounded. From the time they are wounded to the time they reach Germany is only a couple of hours. It is an incredible effort to save every life and limb. Visiting this trauma center was also a grim reminder to me of the cost of the war. My first job when I left the army was in medical device sales. I'd spent a lot of time in ER's and Operating rooms in some of the best trauma hospitals in the US- (such as Cook County and San Francisco General) so I'd seen my share of trauma. But there is something about seeing a wounded soldier that is different- even if the wound is exactly the same as at Cook County. Knowing that this young person laying there all torn up had volunteered to fight for his country and was now in this far off country fighting for his own life. It was much harder to witness than anything I'd seen in the states- even if the wounds were exactly alike. This place was not for the faint of heart.
After Mark was in the good hands of our doctors I needed to fly to Baghdad for a meeting. He would eventually be flown all the way back to Walter Reed Medical Center in DC. As I write this on 16 June they still do not know what is wrong. I had only been back from leave for a few days, but leave was already a distant memory. It was time to go to the helipad and talk my way into a helicopter ride to my next destination. It was time to go to work.
posted by Dan at 5:04 AM
