A Day at the Office (800 ft, 140 kts)

Transportation is a wonderful thing. Today, I rode the wonder-bike, Trigger, to work. Got there at 0745, tried to make a few phone calls, gave up, and hurried to the flight line. Three hours to takeoff. Preflight, loaded the radios, moved flight gear around, then headed for our 1000 briefing. Stuffed a protein bar, yuck. Some nuts and raisins, stale. Briefing officer said, "Blah, blah, blah. Any questions?" To which everyone replied, "Roger, I acknowledge your briefing." (What I really wanted to say was, how about breakfast?) Our schedule - 7.9 hours of flight time, 3 fuel stops, 30-some passengers on and off, some cargo, and oh, yea, we'll need to bring night vision goggles. It's going to be dark before we get done. (Oh, what joy! I'm so looking forward to this! Excuse me sir, may I have another smack? ...Good thing I keep my thoughts to myself.)

"Oh, yea. Due to weather, we're on hold for 2 more hours so quit hurrying. Anyone want lunch?" At 1350 we finally took off. Flight of 2 Blackhawks, 800 or more feet above the ground (but still in the smog layer) and cruising at 140 knots. Two pilots each with 2 door gunners. Passenger stops every once in while. Didn't see any camel packs this flight, but sometimes over the dunes we see a herd or two. Lotsa bird flocks trying to get chopped up right at our flight level. The Tigris River spills irrigation canals all over the place and the dunes start abruptly where the canals end. Fields of wheat, rice paddies, and date palm trees nestle up beside the winding river plain. Mud brick houses and enclosed compounds fly bright red, green, or black flags to commemorate the latest religious holiday. Toyota pickup trucks play chicken with motorcyclists. We're high and fast above the nationals (as the Iraqis are correctly called, not Hajis). Flights last from 30 minutes to one hour and 30 minutes. We try not to overfly Mosques. See, aren't we flying neighborly? And we definitely avoid overflying towns and cities. The residents may get upset. Today, I'm chalk two and get to do most of the flying while my boss makes the radio calls. That's a good thing, because the Iraqi Air Traffic Controllers are speaking a different brand of English than I can decipher. "Roger," whatever you said.

Due to the weather hold, our duty day can't go past 14 hours and our flight time is limited at 8 hours. We actually fly to our last pickup point as the sun is setting. Then, another 30 minutes and we're landing at our FOB (Forward Operating Base) near Al Kut. The runway is incredibly long, about 2 miles worth. Too bad the concrete is thin enough to only land light to medium cargo planes. And helicopters, but we only need dirt or gravel. Along the south side of the runway a Chinese-leased oil well continues to burn sludge and sends a black plum of smoke billowing north right over our FOB. That can't be good to breath, I'm sure. Oh, well. It makes a good landmark.

I taxi in smoothly, or I think it's smooth, because my bottom is so numb. After shutting down, another 45 minutes of putting away gear, tying down the helicopter, and going through a boring debriefing, then comes the good part. I get to jump on my trusty orange steed, Trigger, and ride to the $32-million Dining Facility, or DFAC. Supper closes at 8:00 pm, and we just make it. Trigger is quite quick when I'm hungry. Good boy. Supper is Turkey Meatloaf (and I thought before I used to like meatloaf), some orange-colored rice, 2 lowfat milks, a chopped veggie salad, and some fresh-cut, nowhere-near-ripe honeydew melon and mealy watermelon. By the way, I highly recommend the milk but not much else. Usually, the DFAC has good food. Not tonight. They must have known I was really hungry.

My day at the office lasted just 12 hours. Flight time was mercifully only 4.8. But better yet, Internet access is back up in my room! Priceless!!! Well, I promised pictures and now it all begins.

Tomorrow, I'll show you my real transportation, Trigger. He's my best friend. He never complains and doesn't eat much. Til then...

Much Love,

Christopher-Michael / Poppy