A rush of memories

September 25, 2006

My mind keeps drifting to Iraq.

We'll fly into Iraq sometime soon, and my mind races with the thoughts of what we'll see. The color of the place is what keeps coming back to me.

It's the tannest brown I've ever seen.

The living trailers, white metal structures up on blocks with small metal stoops; the chow hall with its lines and rules and limited selection; the Port-a-Potties, shower trailers with their poor drains and using bottled water for brushing teeth.

It's all flooding back to me.

More repairs — and bees

Well, we just tried taking off from Germany and discovered the plane was broken.

That’s not uncommon in the world of planes — and C-130s. In fact, when we came in to Germany yesterday, only three of the four props were spinning.

Oil pressure on number 3 engine plummeted. The crew decided to feather it — turn the props sideways to minimize wind resistance — and shut it down.

It happens.

Lt. Will Pahn, a navigator, said he's been on flights that landed with three engines four times. Last month he spent three weeks in Crete waiting for the plane to get fixed. He and the crew had just left Iraq to take the plane home for maintenance.

It made it only part way.

Everyone is milling around the plane, walking through the cargo bay, out the back, walking circle after circle.

The crew is counting minutes, time is limited for them.

A 12-hour tactical day is the maximum allowed C-130 crews. It started at 6:45 a.m. It's now quarter past 10 a.m. The plane has to be fixed quickly or there won't be enough time in the duty day to make it to the war.

So we wait.

Maybe we'll have to go back to that German hotel we stayed at last night. It was, well, interesting.

The staff didn't speak much English and we don't speak German.

Dinner at the hotel was fabulous. What did we eat?

You name it. Loadmaster Staff Sgt. Mike Fish had the wild boar.

No kidding.

Loadmaster Staff Sgt. Mike Eller had the baby deer.

I had the trout, which came skin, head, bones and all.

In true German fashion, dinner took three hours. And I'm pretty sure they rushed it for us fast-eating Americans.

No one slept well last night, though. Maybe it was the anxiety of knowing where they were heading. Maybe it was the hard beds. Some of the crew complained it was too quiet.

It was quiet. A winding road out of base took us through a cow pasture and into a wooded valley. There, beside a babbling brook, was the Hotel Victoria.

I slept with my window open to listen to the water rushing below and slept like a baby.
Until, of course, the bees joined me.

I awoke at 3 a.m. to the buzzing of the largest bee I've ever seen.

And he was mad.

He didn't want to be there.

I didn't want him there.

So I chased him around my room with my coffee cup. My plan was to trap him and shake him out the window he flew in through.

As soon as I trapped him, however, he sent out the alarm. Two more bees flew in and started circling.

I dumped their friend out the window and shut it before he could turn around.

It was time to take it up a notch.

Wearing combat boots on my bare feet and tennis shoes on my hands, I chased the bees around the room. I squished one on a mirror. The other one required jumping on the bed so my shoe-clad hand could reach the ceiling light where the last bee was perched. Here's a tip, anti-frizz gel for hair is toxic to bees. One spritz and they fall like little black and yellow pebbles.

The battle lasted more than an hour. By that time it was time to start my day.

More waiting

Now we sit and wait. It's common in the military, nothing to worry about.

We were almost on our final leg of the journey to Iraq, in fact we were taxiing down the runway when the latest problem was discovered.

We're still in the plane, waiting to see if it will be fixed in time or whether we’ll be spending the night.

My body armor and helmet hang on a hook in front of me. I find myself looking at it and smiling as if at an old friend.

Posted by editor at September 25, 2006 07:00 PM