As The Sparks Fly Upward

NOTE: I am submitting this at 10:47 German time (4:47 AM on the East Coast), after having just landed at Leipzig, Germany. So I have made it safely 2/3 of the way to my destination. No phone service where I am, but I was able to glom onto some wireless internet, so here it is. Now onto the next blog entry, skipping forward a few days (I’ll fill in the back stuff later). Love and miss you guys! –Erik

Okay, I am writing this one from the plane, with my Bose headphones on, listening to Bolling do his classico-jazz thing. I am–after (literally) years of talking about it, buying stuff from Walmart and the PX and Army Clothing Sales for the trip, after (again, literally) hundreds of good byes–at long last on the very large plane which will be taking me and 279 others to Leipzig, Germany, and then on to Kuwait. From Kuwait I will eventually catch a flight to (presumably) Al Asad FOB. Somehow, it feels good to have survived CRC and to be actually headed toward the middle east. Each minute that I travel farther away from home is a minute closer to that date in September, when I will walk through the front door again.

So here’s how it went down, starting where I left off (yesterday PM), with the usual commentary.

Spent last night with the family, in the Columbus Marriott, which is beautiful. It is in an historic old building (not sure what the history is, exactly), downtown near the convention center. The building looks like an old brick warehouse, sort of gussied-up, but the inside is beautiful. On my way to the Marriott, I drove down Victory Road, which follows the typical off-post pattern of having the ARmy surplus stores near the base, then the tattoo parlors a little further out, followed of course by places with names like “Foxy Mama” and “Carousel”–places with no windows, if you get my drift. A few miles beyond that, the terrain beacme a bit less savage, and then I was finally in the downtown area, which is small but nice. As I checked into the Marriott at about 1530, I notcied a gregarious group there, all wearing nametags, and one of these began to speak with me, a man named Jose. Turned out, Jose was in charge of the flight crew for my flight tomorrow. He did not seem to want to give me much info about the flight, but eventually did let me know that we’d have a layover in Leipzig, Germany, about an eight hour flight. The company from which the flight was chartered is World Airlines. Good info.

The room was beautiful (every 4-star hotel seems to have adopted the “Heavenly Bed” kind of layout) and I had a bit of time before I had to be back for formation (1800), so I plopped onto the bed and put on my favorite TV station (MSNBC), and fell asleep to the loud but somehow comforting sounds of Chris Matthews grilling some Hillary Clinton campaign person. I woke up about 45 minutes later, and headed back to Ft Benning. On my way, I called Lorri, who was just past Atlanta in her trip with the kids from Augusta to Columbus, and so I made a mental note that they’d be arriving around 1830.

Formation was quick and to-the-point: the CRC staff did not have much info to give us about our trip tomorrow, but wanted us at formation at 0900, and then would release us until around noon-ish. I quickly hopped back in the car, and cruise past Ranger Joe’s and Foxy Lady’s and was back at the hotel around 1830. As I hovered arond looking for a parking spot, I was called by Maya, whose pointed questions to me let it be known that she was watching me from the window of our room. I looked up, and all three of the girls were standing in the window, waving their fool heads off. I hadn’t seen them for a week, and they looked shining, and happy. To borrow a phrase: Everybody knows that the sweetest thing that you’ll ever see in the whole wide world is a happy girl. Spot on, Martina.

So, the girls ran downstairs and joined me for hugs, and we met Lorri and headed over to Houlihans for dinner. It was all very nice, but had a “last supper” kind of feel to it, as everything does these days. My impending deployment has hung over everything for weeks, and that sense of impending separation became more heavy as my departure became more imminent.

When we got back upstairs, we watched the rest of idol, and the kids, exhausted as they were (and usually are by Thursday), were all snoozing by 9:30. Lorri and I did not last much longer, making it until 10 or so.

This morning. I woke up early, and lay there for awhile wondering why I was awake. After a few minutes of this, Lorri announced that she, too was awake, and had sensed that I was. We both got up and started getting things ready for our day. I packed, cleaned, tried on boots (I have been issued three pair, but plan to take only one–most of my sources tell me that one pair will easily last me the entire trip), and repacked my duffles to try to make things fit in a little more efficiently. I ended up with three duffles and a small carry-on. We’re allowed four duffles and a big carry-on, so I was happy to be well within compliance.

0900 formation was another quick one: pick up some green tags for our luggage, and sign out some miscellaneous last-minute issued items (prescription inserts for one of the goggle sets they had given me) and then re-form back at 1145. I raced back to the hotel, and realized I had only about a hour with the family. We got our stuff together, put the large quantity of issued stuff which I would NOT be taking to Iraq with me (two duffles worth) into Lorri’s car, for her to take home, and then the girls climbed in with me and we headed back to base. We stopped at Ranger Joes along the way, as it is near the freeway exit and has a big bold sign, so I though it might be an ideal place for Lorri to leave her car. Then we piled into my Honda, and headed in towards Ft Benning and the CRC compound.

When we got there, the usual beehive of activity was taking place, and I had to get a few qthings squared away pretty quickly while Lorri and the kids waited. After a brief flurry of activity, we were together again and went over to the Chaplain’s trailer for a family prayer and to give Lorri a blessing. During the prayer all of the kids pretty much lost it, which I knew would be coming at some point. We hugged a hundred times, re-pledged our love for each other and I kissed every one of the girls hard on the cheek, and told each one how special she was to me, and how she would be in my every thought while we are away. That has been true, so far. Lorri and I hugged and kissed and I helped the kids into the car, and I stood on the loading dock platform and waved as they drove off, with a lot of tears flowing down. I also felt a lot like crying, but I held off for now; there was too much work to be done (I had to repack one of my bags which I had realized would not meet the size requirements for the plane).

Re-formation at 1230, and then we hauled all of our duffles out to the parking lot, wehre they would be loaded onto a truck, and eventually, on to the plane. Nice to be in the modern Army, where this work is done for us, rather than by us. After the bags were in the lots and sniffed by the dogs (not sure whether they were sniffing for drugs, explosives, or both, the “lock-down” began, wherein the barracks were all closed and off-limits, and we were allowed to stay only on or near the pavilion, or in the Chaplain’s trailer. I made a beeline for the trailer, which I happened to know, had comfortable chairs, and electric outlets. Took a little nap until about 1445, and then I called Dad and Mom, Barry, Becky, and Melissa to give my last goodbye for the time being. At 1515, we had our final formation, and did a quick clean-up of the barracks area (I really love picking up other people’s cigarette butts), and were finally herded into buses and off to the airport.

A little break in this filibuster narrative to tell you a few things:

1. My carry-on bag is supposed to be a small, squarish computer case, with a few extra pockets for discs, and perhaps a few personal things. Over the course of this trip, it has instead become this rounded, over-stuffed mini-behemoth, looking like a fat kid who has distorted his flesh in all manner of ways in order to fit in those too-small jeans. Among the things in my bag at any given time are the following (and I kid you not one bit here): Bose headphones–the big over-the-ear kind; the laptop on which I am writing these words, a 14-incher, 6 pounder; an extra laptop battery; another extra laptop battery (true story–I’m a little bit obsessive); an ipod; all of my paperwork (probably 40 sheets worth); my palm pilot; about 20 cables for all of the above; my stash o’ possibly necessary meds (T3, ambien, allegra, nexium); a bunch of little doodads the kids gave me (not giving those up any time soon); a thumb drive (4gb); anointing oil; eyedrops galore; Panoptyx goggles; about 5 headphone sets, each of which has a slightly different use; and various wipey-cleany thingies. There was a time in the late 70s when my family lived in Califormia, and Jordache Jeans were popular (why?). When someone who was literally (as opposed to figuratively) too big for their britches, my friends and I used to rename their jeans thusly: “See the chick in the Lardache jeans?” Well, mine has become the Lardache carry-on.
2. I took an ambien (my first time ever) about 90 minutes ago, and it ain’t touching me. I’m wide stinking awake, and the movie they are playing is Die Hard 52 or something like that, so you can understand why I am typing like a maniac here.
3. Today one of the CRC staff mentioned that an ugly racial comment had been made on one of the survey card handed out at the shooting range yesterday, something along the lines of the staff being “too dark.” Unbelieveable that that kind of twisted thinking still exists these days. I greatly doubt that it was one of our military folks, as we all seem to get along together really without any outside issue affecting us. Very sad. To the Bravo company cadre, if any of you read this: I had many of my fellow deployees agree with my general perception that you have done an outstanding and truly professional job. SSG Goodwin, SPC Maldonado, PFC Lattimore, SFC Lewis, SFC Singletary, all of you have been there when we needed you to be, you put up with a lot of dumb questions with good humor and grace, and you really tried to make things they best they could be for us. This wasn’t the most fun wek I’ve ever had (inprocessing never is), but it was a heck of a lot better than it could have been. I thank you for that.

Over the big Atlantic right now; more to follow…