Delay of Game

After flying out of Baghdad, we spent almost a week waiting in Kuwait for a plane to take us back to the U.S. Originally, we were supposed to be on a plane to Fort Riley on November 3rd, but our flight was backed up to the 5th.

Camp Virginia Kuwait is where we lived in a large tent during our stay in the lovely little desert country. We passed the time playing volleyball or horseshoes. There was no lack of sand for the horseshoe pit or the volleyball court. We also spent a lot of time watching movies at the USO tent or working out at the gym. There was also a place called Green Beans Coffee. It’s the Military’s answer to coffee chains and I helped keep them in business for a few days.

The time spent in Kuwait was designed for us to unwind. We kept hearing the term “De-compress.” After too many days of this we were all starting to “Re-compress.”

I can’t tell you what our flight schedule was except to say that in the brilliance associated with military travel, we actually began the movement to the plane 21 hours before we were supposed to take off. We spent a rough morning going through U.S. Customs where we had to unpack all of our gear…and I mean ALL of it…and have some Navy personnel rifle through our stuff. I watched as the sailor began unrolling my socks and underwear and gear. I was one of the first in line because I was part of the baggage handling team. They needed me to throw duffel bags and rucksacks into a truck for transport to Kuwait International Airport.

I looked at the sailor as he was flipping through my Army paperwork one page at a time and said, “You know, if you keep this up you are going to have a very long day.” He smiled. I guess he’s heard that before.

I spent the rest of the morning in the back of a panel truck stacking bags. I was in there with two other sergeants watching each bag come up a conveyor belt. Our job, as told to us by another sailor, was to stack the bags and rucks as high as we could to make sure all the baggage would fit on this one truck.

We had a method of running to the back of the truck, jumping from bags on the bottom and slam dunking duffel bags onto the top of a well organized stack. At one point the Navy overseer walks up the stairs and says, “Seriously, you need to stack the bags all the way to the top.” I looked at our pile that was actually touching the roof of the cargo hold and said, “Yeah, I think we got it here, pal.” In other words, “Get lost!” We preferred him to sit quietly at the bottom of the conveyor belt eating his muffins rather than opening his mouth to speak and tell us to do what we were already doing. We were a little cranky because at this point, we had been up for hours.

After the last bag was loaded, they told us to head to one of the Freedom Tents, which are tents with TV’s to watch while waiting to board buses to the airport. “What do we do there?” I asked. “You stay put until we call you,” said the Navy. “Do not leave the area.” The irony of the situation put me in a country music mode, so I sketched out a song:

I’m on Lockdown in the Freedom Tent
They told me not to roam.
Locked down in the freedom tent
But at least I’m going home.

The flight is only a blur in my memory. We did stop in the Motherland for an hour while the plane re-crewed. I’ve only stopped in Ireland once before, but here I was again in at an airport in Shannon. I looked for a souvenir or two and then hopped back on the plane.

We arrived in Topeka, Kansas as the sun was rising. The tires screeched when they hit the ground and there was an unusual silence for a few seconds. Then one of the flight attendants spoke on the intercom and said, “Welcome home to the U.S.A.!”
We all clapped and cheered.

I stood at the door of the plane and shot some video of everyone walking down the stairs. For some reason, there are times when I want to be the last one to go. I’ve been what they call a “Stick Pusher” on jumps in the past. The stick pusher is the last one out the door. My only attraction to this is a symbolic feeling of knowing that there’s no one left behind from my group.

The ground was wet and there was a chill in the air. But, as we rode a bus back to Fort Riley Thursday morning, I marveled at how beautiful the Kansas countryside can be when the sun is just hitting the rolling fields. White farm houses with grain silos stood out across the fields as the morning sun lit them up. It was a slice of pure Americana that tasted so sweet.

Fort Riley is where we trained for our mission. It is where we process out. We didn’t get off the plane and run into the arms of our families, we rode a bus to post and immediately began out-processing paperwork. We went to a center where stations are set up for handling medical screening, finance and personnel matters. What we didn’t complete that day, we worked on the next.

I tried to stay in a good mood at even at the end of a long day. I sat down at the immunization records table late in the afternoon, knowing that we still had a ceremony to go to and we still had to retrieve our bags and check into rooms. I looked at the young lady behind the computer and said, “Hi! How are you doing?” She replied, “I’d be doing better if this day would end and I could go home.”

12 thousand miles and almost a year into my journey, I just looked at her and said, “Yes, that would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

The new commander of my unit in Decatur, GA flew out to Fort Riley so that he could oversee our “Welcome Home Warrior Citizen” ceremony. He was there to address us as we marched into an auditorium. It was a short ceremony and as we marched in, there was a smattering of applause by a handful of soldiers in the bleachers.

Our new commander made a short speech and handed each of us a ceremonial flag in a small case with our name on it. He then asked our team leader to say something. Our team leader, a wise Special Forces Lieutenant Colonel, looked at the group there at the end of a very long day and made the best speech we heard all day. He said, “Get on the bus.” We clapped and headed to the buses so we could get rooms and get some sleep. Friday was going to be another early day.

I am an Army Reservist who was activated for two years from the end of 2001 to the end of 2003. For Army Reserve Soldiers, there exists a benefit to those who have been repeatedly called up after 9/11. There’s a calculator the government has designed that will grant you 4 extra days of leave per month on the third call-up. There is a group of about 20 of us who have earned these extra days that will be tacked on to the end of our tour.

Here’s the catch:
The days I earned take me beyond the end of my 400 day orders. So, for me to be able to be paid for these days, orders have to be cut that extend me beyond my 400 days, which end in December. Now, don’t worry about the word “Extension.” This is simply paid leave I’m talking about here. It amounts to almost 2 months of pay and will help greatly as I go home and try to get my small business back underway.

Here’s the rub:
We had to apply to for the extension orders. The request went through Friday to Human Resources Command in St. Louis. The request hasn’t been seen yet as far as we know. After all, it is a four-day weekend and they won’t look at our request until after the holiday. It’s not possible for them to somehow get the orders approved and cut until after the holiday is over. We won’t hear anything about our request until Wednesday. At that point, we will finish out-processing and prepare for travel back to Decatur.

By the way, the holiday that is holding these soldiers here, these veterans who are finishing a tour in a combat zone, away from there families and friends is…Anybody care to guess?

That’s right…Veteran’s Day.

Those from the unit who haven’t been deployed before or those who work for the Army Reserve on a full time basis left this morning. We said goodbye to them knowing we’ll probably never see most of them again. We were gathered from all over the country to fill the requirements for the mission and now they’re heading home to Texas, Illinois, New Mexico, wherever.

Those of us stuck here on Fort Riley waiting to go home have a few more days to occupy. Eventually, the people that will cut our orders will get back to work from their Veteran’s Day Holiday and sort through the paperwork that will get us out of here.

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Folks, there are only a few more entries left to this blog. I will work on them when I get back home. It will be interesting and some things will be revealed that I wasn’t able to go into in the past. There will be a story 42 years in the making that you all might find interesting as well. Please be patient with me. I have access to the Internet here, but I have some pictures that I want to put on my final posts that I can’t upload here due to the equipment I’m working with. Check back in a few days, but meanwhile, Happy Veteran’s Day.