Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah
To: mom@aol.com
From: axis@iraqidesert.com
Date: 08 October 2004 11:17 AM GMT
Subject: Hi Ma!
How are you? Yeah, I know -- what took me so long? Well, it was busy for a while, but there's not much going on in our neck of the desert now except daily dust storms. I actually like it here and am enjoying learning how to survive. I've learned to celebrate the small things, like when we go from HeatCon Four/110 degrees to HeatCon Two/108 degrees. Or when I get to the bus stop for chow just as the shuttle arrives -- that's enough to make my day!
The people make a big difference. I like most everyone I work with, and my bunkmates are easy to live with. Not sure how well everyone will get along once the rainy season starts, but why worry? I guess we'll manage. Mail helps, too. Everyone from the lowest ranking Airman to the Colonel who commands the base watches for that email "You Got Mail" every afternoon. We're not really hurting for supplies here, but it's interesting the things we occasionally run out of. Last week as the BX started to run low, trash bags and cereal became serious currency. You could probably get a firstborn child for a handful of 30-gallon can liners and a box of Froot Loops. When I got here, shampoo was the hot item. I don't want to know who was going without it at the time.
While the pace of life is weirdly slow here -- because of the heat and dust, not even the vehicles move very fast -- there are some stressors that get the blood pressure up. It's the same old story, where the guy in charge has no idea what his people are supposed to be accomplishing, so every time he sticks his nose in, he makes a mess of everything. In my team's case, it's a captain with a bad case of short guy syndrome who has so little work to do that he spends his time either annoying my boss or making prank calls around the base. And yes, I mean the kind of prank calls 12-year-old boys make. I really try not to let it get to me though. I just keep chanting to myself, "It's only four months, it's only four months." If that doesn't work, I remind myself that my Army friends are here for 12-15 months, and they have it a lot worse in many ways.
Gotta get back to work now, but I'll write again soon.
Love you!
M.
From: axis@iraqidesert.com
Date: 08 October 2004 11:17 AM GMT
Subject: Hi Ma!
How are you? Yeah, I know -- what took me so long? Well, it was busy for a while, but there's not much going on in our neck of the desert now except daily dust storms. I actually like it here and am enjoying learning how to survive. I've learned to celebrate the small things, like when we go from HeatCon Four/110 degrees to HeatCon Two/108 degrees. Or when I get to the bus stop for chow just as the shuttle arrives -- that's enough to make my day!
The people make a big difference. I like most everyone I work with, and my bunkmates are easy to live with. Not sure how well everyone will get along once the rainy season starts, but why worry? I guess we'll manage. Mail helps, too. Everyone from the lowest ranking Airman to the Colonel who commands the base watches for that email "You Got Mail" every afternoon. We're not really hurting for supplies here, but it's interesting the things we occasionally run out of. Last week as the BX started to run low, trash bags and cereal became serious currency. You could probably get a firstborn child for a handful of 30-gallon can liners and a box of Froot Loops. When I got here, shampoo was the hot item. I don't want to know who was going without it at the time.
While the pace of life is weirdly slow here -- because of the heat and dust, not even the vehicles move very fast -- there are some stressors that get the blood pressure up. It's the same old story, where the guy in charge has no idea what his people are supposed to be accomplishing, so every time he sticks his nose in, he makes a mess of everything. In my team's case, it's a captain with a bad case of short guy syndrome who has so little work to do that he spends his time either annoying my boss or making prank calls around the base. And yes, I mean the kind of prank calls 12-year-old boys make. I really try not to let it get to me though. I just keep chanting to myself, "It's only four months, it's only four months." If that doesn't work, I remind myself that my Army friends are here for 12-15 months, and they have it a lot worse in many ways.
Gotta get back to work now, but I'll write again soon.
Love you!
M.
posted by Axis at 3:17 PM
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