Well, kids, I am refreshed and feeling great as I write these words, after an improbably excellent night’s sleep. I mentioned in a long-ago blog entry that the billeting at Kuwait is generally less than ideal: we are all shoved, willy-nilly, into cavernous GP-medium tents which are lined up in great rows along “Tent City” on the main portion of the base. These tents have quite literally nothing in them except some barebones bunkbeds with plastic mattresses and a string of fluorescent lights. The lights have two settings: “torture” (requires the use of shades and SPF 2000 sunscreen to avoid growing melanomas right on the spot), and “off.” Because of this, we mostly leave them off, and use flashlights to get around and find our stuff. But last night around 1 AM, about six servicemembers came into our tent, having been assigned there for the night. So the lights had to go on, which woke the rest of us up, all the way.

Fortunately, I had gone to bed early—around 8 PM—as I was still exhausted and recovering from the previous sleepless night. So by midnight, I already had four hours sleep under my belt. I got up and went to the bathroom, came back in, listened to music and played a silly little ipod game for a while as a lot of shuffling noises went on all around me, soldiers getting their stuff in order and getting themselves into bed.

When I have to bunk out in these sort-of public situations, I have a simple method of creating a bit of personal space and increasing my privacy: I build a fort, just like when I was a kid. I got my most opaque blanket (the shiny Army blankie issued to me at CRC) and let it hang from the top bunk (holding it down with duffle bags) down and around the sides of the lower bed, leaving a small opening at the foot end. This effectively blocked out the Army Torture Lamps a bit, and helped me feel like I was not sleeping in a fishbowl. (Not as much, anyway.)

To my surprise, the lights went out again around 2 PM as my tentmates apparently got themseves all tucked in, and remained off until 7:15. I slep that whole time, so overall got more than nine hours’ rack time. Not too shabby for such crummy sleeping conditions. So I am refreshed today, have already had breakfast, and am currently at the MWR (Morale, Welfare, and Recreation) tent sitting on a sticky couch, with some nice A/C cranking and the US volleyball team fighting it out with Russia. Life is good, and getting better.

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Backing up a bit: by Sunday night, it had been established that the company would try to get me a flight out of Al Asad on Wednesday. By Monday, it appeared that no Wednesday flight was available, but my faithful compadres finagled me a spot on a very crowded C-130 which was to depart Thursday morning at 0130, with a “show time” (meaning that I had to check in at the airport) of 2200 hours. We are not allowed to discuss or even allude to flights out of theater, so I could not broadcast that info on the blog. Nor could I discuss my last few days’ activities, as most of the notable events were “goodbye” experiences, which would telegraph my impending departure. But I can discuss them now.

On Saturday, we had a barbecue, and the medics presented me with a silk-screen print of an Al Asad scene, adorned with the signatures of each of them and numerous hilarous comments, most of them referring in some way to my shiny head. Sunday was my last day at church, and more goodbyes, and I got a blessing for a safe flight out of Al Asad (worked!). I have not yet been released from my calling as first assistant to the group leader; that will likely take place next week.

Monday was divided between clinic and running around doing errands: mailing a package, getting some cash for the trip from Army Finance, picking up a few last-minute gifts for the faithful at home, and so on. On Monday night, our Company Commander, CPT Melissa Thomas, arrived from headquarters, stating that she had a presentation she wanted to give on Tuesday.

Tuesday consisted of more clinic and more errands, and in the afternoon after clinic, CPT Thomas got everyone together, called attention to orders, and asked me to come up to the fron of the room. She awarded me the Army Commendation Medal (ARCOM) for my service as the Al Asad Troop Medical Clinic Medical Officer-In-Charge. I was honored to be so recognized, with the fourth ARCOM of my Army career. Afterwards, I was asked to say a few words, but I said more than a few, as I singled out, separately, every soldier in our company, and offered a “gift” to them (usually something silly and particularly related to that soldier—our clinic’s “pretty boy” SGT Evans, for instance, received an Army-issue handheld mirror). At the end, the tone of my remarks changed as I offer my heartfelt thanks for the many sacrificed, noticed and unnoticed, which these fine soldiers had made for me over the course of my deployment. I presented to each of them a personal letter, noting their accomplishments during the past six months, and thanking them for their service to me, their fellow servicemen, and their country. I wrote down my e-mail address for all of them, and encouraged them to let me know if they are in the Fort Gordon area.

I will likely say more on this subject later, but it is hard for me to imagine serving with a more dedicated, professional, and generally excellent groups of soldiers than those in the Troop Medical Clinic on Al Asad. I had an experience at the Combat Surgical Hospital on Sunday afternoon which I may recount at a later date, but suffice it to say that it reminded me that the truly high quality of care offered by my medics is not, in fact, universal in deployed medical facilities. I was very lucky to have been assigned to serve with these fine soldiers.

Wednesday AM I did not go in to clinic—I had planned to, as my absence makes things difficult for the other provider, CPT Hall, but events necessitated that I finish all of my packing. Also, I wanted to drive around the post just a bit, and get some last-minute pictures for the inevitable slide shows that will take plavce when I get home. I worked Wednesday afternoon, and then after clinic, my good friend CPT Baker and I took a bike ride around the big loop. Usually we run that loop fairly quickly, but this this time we rode nice and easy, as I took it all in. Back in the cans by 7 PM, and I did all of the last-minute stuff, got some chow, and !LT Coleman, CPT Baker and I headed out to the flight line.

The flight itself was quite uneventful. It was packed to the gills, but I was the most comfortable person on the plane, as I had been tipped off by one of the Al Asad higher-ups about a recent change in security procedures (decreased now, with the lack of any recent attacks on US planes). I can’t tell you the specifics for OPSEC reasons, but suffice it to say that I had a bit more room on the plane than anyone else. The flight went through Al Taqqadum (”T.Q.”) and touched down in Kuwait around 4 AM. On to a Benz-bus, and in a few moments we were swiping our ID cards, to mark the end of our hazardous duty pay.

Never have I been so happy and willing to have my salary reduced.