Yes, two out of three cameras are working...

We're catching up a bit on the MUCH REQUESTED PHOTOS!! :-)

Here are some shots from Lauren's trip to Washington, D.C.

Lauren, Sarah, Tara and Mary Claire in front of the White House.

Lauren inside her favorite place of the trip: The Library of Congress.











She took a lot of pictures like these:

Silly classmates in a bread line at the FDR Memorial:

And a few more from New York City...

A view from the top of the Empire State Building.

















A view from Fifth Avenue:

Lauren and Tara in Times Square.

















Lauren loved the Metropolitan Museum of Art...

A few shots before the performance...
The arrow is pointing to the Stage Door.

And, for those very few who haven't seen Lauren's prom dress pictures yet (because you are in Iraq or out of town and haven't been subjected to having photos and cameras thrust into your face by the momma), here are a few:

Lauren and Tara

the requisite Charlie's Angels shot ...

 ...and the attitude/silly shot.

See, Gunner does exist!!

An action shot. (Mary Claire, Lauren, David, Lucy, Andrea and Tara)










That's all for now. Come back again soon. Chris promises more pictures from Iraq. Love you all, Linda

Reflections on "What can we send you?"

Dear Extended Family,

Today, I looked around my temporary "home" in a new light. It's a fortress of concrete barriers and bunkers with an aerostat balloon floating overhead with sensors even I don't know about. Hundreds of Army soldiers, Ugandan guards, Special Forces musclemen, and KBR contractors come into the $3.4 million dining facility where I eat everyday, for free of course. My room is an air conditioned Containerized Housing Unit (CHU) which can be set as cold as I can bear. I get access to free laundry service, real hot water showers, and porcelain indoor toilets in an air conditioned trailer. Free transportation is furnished for me here at FOB Delta in either an air conditioned Chevy Blazer (covered in fine Iraqi dust), a Kia bus (covered in fine Iraqi dust) with curtained windows comes by at least once every half hour, or the usual (& most reliable form of transportation) Trigger, the wonder-bike... uh, covered in fine Iraqi dust. My job entitles me to strap into a $14 million, tax-payer-furnished Blackhawk helicopter, complete with another pilot and 2 door gunners, and a 2nd Blackhawk escort to help me out if I need to land in bad-guy territory. I've overflown and photographed the hanging gardens of Babylon, the Ziggurrat of Ur (Abraham's birthplace), farms irrigated by the Tigris or Euphrates Rivers, and the smoggy, diverse city of Baghdad. Oh, and I get paid for doing it, some of it tax free!

Eastern Orthodox Christian services I don't get, but I attempt to make up for it with lots of reading and non-denominational services or, heaven forbid, the "lite" Roman Catholic Masses. Good musicians. Not great. Clay and Janet would bring the house down!

So where was I going with all of this? I receive quite a few e-mails and care packages from friends and friends-of-friends. Recently, someone asked me, "What can we send you?"

Food? I get to eat out free everyday at the $3.4 million dining facility. I've bloated up to 190 lbs! Car magazines, especially BMW of course, that's a really good diversion.  Pictures would be the best. Of course Pat O'Toole thought of that, but that's because he's been in this situation before.

But then I really thought harder, which is very taxing on my little brain, you see. It just seems a little selfish for me to ask for anything, don't you think? ...But I will anyway. I think I found a good answer. If anyone feels so inclined, give me your thoughts, your prayers, your humor, but best of all - take care of my family for me. Somehow, we soldiers get all the attention, and "thank you" comments, but from what I can tell from talking to all my peers, their families are working extra hard to close the gap on the vaccuum left when their soldier left town. My family tries to keep life going at the same pace and commitment of "doing whatever love requires" (our unofficial family motto) when there was actually 2 drivers, 2 cooks, 2 tutors... 2 parents! My wife is "up to her eyeballs in alligators!" What a great saying, don't you think? My "favorite daughter", Lauren, is in her last year of living at home. I lost that one year. That hurts, but I'm confident I'll go way out of my way to get together with her for our little conversations which she lovingly calls "lectures". Funny girl. And my "favorite son", Gunner, is going downhill in Math and Latin with all the mixed-up hormones and confused/rebellious attitude of a 14-year-old teenaged boy. The outlook doesn't look promising for this year of school. Fathers should be there for their sons. And that one really hurts.

And so, please, if there's anyone out there, don't think harshly of me, but I have to answer the question "What can we send you?"

Do something for them.

When I flew out of town with all that fanfare in a gust of wind and noise, the News channels took pictures of 10 helicopters rising up in the morning light and broadcast it to the world. What they neglected to show were the little hands of families left behind waving goodbye in the dust of our rotorwash. Hope I'm not asking too much. But I'm asking. I hope you'll understand and do "whatever love requires." After all, you are my family.

With love,

Chris

Trigger News Update

Flash, flash, flash. Tappety, tap, tap, tappety, tap, tap...

Trigger, your on-the-spot reporter here. Here's the latest news flash. At O-dark-thirty this morning as Mr. Poppy was entering my bunker, uh, stall, to saddle up for the ride in to work... whooooooosh, whoooosh, pause... Thump! Thump! Remember how I previously (like moments ago) reported that everything was quiet at FOB Delta. Not anymore! Two rockets raced across the sky and exploded to the south. Don't know if they hit anything, but at least it wasn't us. Good thing Mr. Poppy came into my new sandbag, reinforced stall this morning. Then, he had to wait 20 minutes before the "All Clear." Guess it made him a little late for his early start to get the old helicopter ready! Hah!

His flight was good fun, he said. Baghdad Green Zone, Baghdad International Airport, and a couple other places I've never heard of. Nice weather. No unhappy natives. It was a good day.

Hope your days are going well. Mr. Poppy would like to see pictures of Lauren's Prom, Adele's party for her new fiance', and any other event. Anyone out there know how to use a camera?

This has been a news update from Trigger, the super-reporter. Stay tuna'd for more breaking news...

Trigger News Network

Tappety, tap, tap, tappety, tap, tap...

And now the news from TNN. Reporting directly from Al Kut, Iraq, here's our headline reporter, Trigger, the wonder reporter...

Good evening. Getting right to our Headline News, an extremist, Al Qaida, terrorist, insurgency, all-around-bad-guy (probably, we don't really know) plot, was recently averted. Some deviant from rational, civilized society actually was so bold as to attempt to cut the locking cable on me!!! Hah! But he was stopped short of his diabolical goal, by non-other than...ta-da...Technology! Yes, his bolt cutters or butter knife, or whatever dull weapon this schmuck tried to use, was no match for the heavy, plastic-coated, metal-reinforced, bike locking cable which Mrs. Linda had sent Mr. Poppy. While sleeping in my concrete reinforced stall, the sinister hoodlum was only able to notch a thin piece of plastic. Hah. He was lucky I was having a good dream and kept sound asleep, or I would have done bad things to that bad man. Oh, yea, Mr. Poppy was snoring soundly in his air conditioned stall not even 10 feet away. Some guardian of the universe he is! Double hah.

Sideline News: With the recent spat of rocket attacks, the FOB Delta headquarters has come to their senses and ordered a double-layer of reinforcing sandbags to my concrete stall. Actually, every stall in the area received similar treatment. Probably, just in case I was wandering out and about and needed some protection nearby. The bright, green sandbags sure add to my garage's property value, I'm sure!

Weather News: Well April showers may bring May flowers, but here in beautiful Iraq, the weather continues to be hazy and dusty, with temperatures ranging from the 60's to the low 90's. Mr. Poppy has been squinting his eyes lately, tearing up, and getting really wattery-eyed. He says it's from my news reporting! Hah! I think it's from "allergies", which we all know, "real" pilots can't have "allergies." Wimp! Anyway, our forecast shows the Winds of Change are coming in to alleviate this hazy and dusty weather. Tomorrow, we'll have DUST and HAZE instead! How's that for variety? Oh, yeah. It rained this afternoon. Mr. Poppy looked pretty funny trying to run back to the office after lunch. That'll teach him to go to lunch in a Chevy Blazer rather than riding Trigger, the wonder stead!

Sports: With the rain, FOB Delta's softball field and volleyball court have postponed all activity. Actually, their hasn't even been any the rockets lately. It's pretty been quiet.

Mr. Poppy Update: The old guy's pretty tired lately. His schedule goes like this... Up at 0500. On to Trigger, the wonder stead. Rid to the office like a gust of wind not-latter-than 0515. Okay, maybe 0520. Will you believe 0530? Trigger doesn't wear a watch, you know. He types some things, moves some electronic gizmos and backpacks out to the helicopter, climbs all over it, starts the APU (Auxilliary Power Unit), makes some radio calls, shuts down, and goes back into the office for a briefing. Yakkety, yak, yak. Then on to breakfast, riding in those rickety old Chevy Blazers. Back to the flightline. Takeoff, flight of two into the wild, blue...uh, brown...yonder. Gone for about 6 hours. Lands. Makes a lot of noise. Unloads a lot of stuff. Cleans the windows. Ties down the old helicopter. Goes into the office to type, type, type. Finally, stumbles out after dark. Gets in the dumb, old Chevy. Goes to supper. Comes back. Then, away we go! Trigger, the wonder stead, wisks him back to the CHU. He stumbles to the shower stall. Quick shower with bad some singing. More stumbling. Back into the air conditioned stall. A little reading of C.S. Lewis and the Screwtape Letters. Then...snoring. Mr. Poppy's flying 6 days a week and says something about his bottom getting flat, whatever that means. But, he says, the days are "flying by"... he thinks that's soooo funny, poor guy. He doesn't even know what day of the week it is; not that it matters.

Trigger Update:  I'm dusty, grumpy, unappreciated, and I need a good bath! Hope Mr. Poppy reads this!

Safety Tip: Don't get too close to the Burn Barrel when destroying all those secret documents (flight routes, etc.). The hair on the back of your hand will singe and curl up. Mr. Poppy makes a lousy pyromaniac.

Closing:  Thanks for Tuning in. That's the daily news. Which is the same as the weekly news. Which pretty much is just like the Monthly news. Yes, it's Groundhog Day at FOB Delta. But don't worry America. Trigger, the wonder stead/reporter, continues his vigilance. No bike-cable-cutter will cross our ocean to threaten your world. Hmm. Unless, he has already infiltrated our society. Double hmm.

Lots and lots of slurpy love,

Trigger, master of many things

Oh, yea. Mr. Poppy did the tappety-tap-stuff. He's good for some things.

Brawl at Symphony Hall

Just when you think you can relax for an evening of Beethoven, bam, reality hits - and hard.

Each semester, music students at Veritas are required to attend a concert and write a review incorporating all of the music theory they have learned. Gunner's music teacher, Ms. Koci, has arranged for her 7th and 8th grade students and parents to attend concerts at Phoenix Symphony Hall for only $5 per ticket. Great deal. The tickets are usually $75. It's mostly students, a handful of parents and Ms. Koci, who manages her students very strictly but with good humor. So last night Gunner and I attended a concert and other than the first piece (I'll mess this up, Clay, but I think it was the Grosse Fugue), the selections were very nice. I think the fugue was just too "challenging" for me. Anyway, on with the story...

The only problem with this whole scenario is that the students take notes during the performance and this causes some rustling of paper and spiral notebooks. Ms. Koci reminded them at intermission about not rustling their papers, but, well, you know. Here is what happened as best as I could figure from listening to a group of hyperventilating girls and the report of one parent:

Sometime during the final selection of the evening, Beethoven's 7th Symphony, a man sitting in front of one of our 8th grade female students turned around and grabbed the notebook out of her hands. He held on to it through the rest of the performance. He would not return it. The father of another female student approached the man, while still in the seating area. (Were words exchanged? Details unknown.) Veritas dad proceeds to punch (beat up) the other patron of the arts. There is blood. Girls run out of the hall. So much high-speed reporting of events to other students.

Gunner and I did not stick around to find out what else happened because it was getting late and he still had some homework to do. We did talk to another student and parent on the way to the parking garage. Who knew a night at the symphony could be so dangerous. What do you think, will Veritas students be banned from Symphony Hall or just the parents???

Holy Week in Iraq

After talking with Linda over the phone last night (yesterday morning your time), things got crazy. Remember how I said we haven't been rocketed in a while? Not anymore. Not once, but twice last night. Trigger and I shared our bunker with 3 enlisted soldiers. I even gave them some of the peanut butter and jam stuff from one of my care packages. Someone had secured some "real bread"! Fantastic.


I've been flying every other day for a while, but now it's up to 6 days a week. I'm not complaining. But I'm starting the day with (1) blood pressure medicine, (2) baby aspirin (the Flight Surgeon recommends for my old guy heart!), (3) Claritin (because this place is a dustbowl and it's killing my allergies), (4) a mega-pill of Ibuprofen ("Pilot Candy" as they call it), and then...ta da... (5) any cookies I can find. I eat lunch later after prepping the helicopter and completing any paperwork before we take offf. Missions are usually 4 to 6 hours, which means time in the cockpit is usually 5 to 7. My legs have a hard time moving after we finally get out. We refuel usually 2-3 times during a flight and pickup and dropoff passengers all over southern Iraq. Tell Pat I got to visit his old base, Taji, and eat at the same dining facility he did. The Easter decorations looked like an elementary school cafeteria! Fantastic!

Speaking of Easter, I'll be flying everyday during Holy Week, except Monday. That, of course, includes Pascha (Easter Sunday). (Note from Linda: one of the pilots offered to take Chris' flight on Sunday so he could have Pascha off. Nice!) I'm still trying to figure out where the Eastern Orthodox Priest is stationed. Maybe I can get a blessing. I sure could use one. The time is very busy, which is good. Because it's going by fast.

Sorry, gotta run. I have another briefing. We take off in 2 1/2 hours. I've already finished prepping our helicopter and printing and loading all the electronics and radios, so my next important project is Lunch!

As the Orthodox say during Pascha, "Christ is risen!" "Truly He is risen!"

Miss you all very much and love you all even more,

Christopher-Michael