DIGIJOURNAL 008--13 DEC 2006

DATELINE: 13DEC06 PB PALIWODA

Hello from Paliwoda,

It has been far too long since I wrote my last journal entry. It seems like every time I want to get to it, something comes up—a drop-in counseling, a visit to a departing soldier, time spent with a section getting to know them, or just joking around with Paul. Over here, the hours, days, and weeks pass quickly, but the months seem to ooze by ever so slowly. We have come to the first difficult phase of the deployment. We have been here long enough to have some shared experiences, but we still have approxiamately ten more months to go. Couple this with the coming of Christmas, and both Paul and I wind up speaking to many guys and gals.

The other challenging thing is that we must remain focused on the basic battletasks that have, thank God, kept us safe so far. It is too easy to slip into a routine where we begin to cut corners. Our leaders maintain a vigilant watch over us so that we will not get casual, which often times means some “coaching, teaching, and mentoring” (Army-speak for butt-chewing) time for individual soldiers. However, our soldiers also need to hear that they are doing a good job. This is where Paul and I come in; we get to pass out the "attaboys." It also helps when we receive the tons of boxes from good folks like you. We use as much of the stuff as we can, we pass as much as we can to the Iraqi children, and we share as much as we can with our Iraqi Army and Police counterparts. Despite what we sometimes hear through the media, it is obvious that most Americans do support, pray for, and care for their troops.

Well, what follows is yet another stream-of-consciousness account of some of the not-so-important events in the life of the 3-8 Combined Arms Battalion.

No Sock Left Behind
We know that no soldier will be left behind on the battlefield. Well, I can now say that this extends to our feet coverings. In addition to leaving no man behind, we now will not leave any sock behind. Here at Paliwoda, some of our folks send out their laundry to Anaconda. But this involves travel by convoy (where it could get lost), being taken to the laundry facility (lost yet again), picked up from said laundry facility, and then brought back to the FOB. Add to this the fog of war, human forgetfulness, the wildly fluctuating length of time it can take for laundry to return, and the guys who have the basic combat load of uniforms can get either pretty stinky in their last uniform or be forced to walk around naked, both very undesirable options.

Fortunately, we do have some American type washers and dryers up here (hence our asking for laundry detergent). The problem with these machines, since they are American, is that they tend to eat our socks. Now, although socks are not very important for your FOB-dwelling chaplain, they are very important for your sand-pounding grunt. It is very hilarious to watch the TTPs (Tactics, Techniques, and Procedures) that guys will go through to ensure that no sock gets “left behind.” Short of climbing into the dryers themselves, they do just about everything else to police up the laundry battlefield. Still, due to good, ol’ American sock-eating dryer ingenuity, while we still have, thankfully, many clad soldiers, they are nonetheless walking around with only one sock per pair of feet.

PS-we can purchase socks at the PX down at Anaconda, so no soldiers' feet have been harmed in the writing of the above paragraphs. The soldiers do not need socks, really....but it is still amusing to see to what extent they will go to avoid mateless socks.

Mouse Jihad Scoreboard
The mouse Jihad continues, and, so far, the mice are winning. One of the mice ate the peanut butter off the trap without setting it off. Obviously we must change our TTPs to match the military preparedness of the vermin. It is bad when the mice wake you up in the middle of the night because they are holding a rave party in your empty duffle bag. Part of the problem is that the sheltered chaplain, me, had a difficult time figuring out and setting the trap (see headspace and timing paragraph in previous journal entry). Well, fortunately our UMT NCO, Paul, stepped in to help me with the trap. He prefers to hunt them down with a knife (so far unsuccessfully). I will keep you updated on the scoreboard. I am sure that you are checking this site repeatedly to find out how this other war is going.

TOC Cat
Despite the temporary setbacks in the mouse Jihad, we have been able to sway some of the local feline nationals to aid us in our battles. Last week, as we were going through the numerous boxes you have sent, Paul felt something rubbing on his left leg. Since getting your leg rubbed is definitely not something that happens over here, Paul jumped. He looked down and there sat, purring, an orange cat (with flea collar). The cat had walked into our room and made herself at home. Technically, we are not supposed to keep mascots, so if any general or sergeant major is reading this, we immediately expelled the cat from our room, notified higher, and kept a vigilant 24-hour watch to make sure we were not infiltrated again—sir/ma’am you can therefore stop reading this entry, and webpage while you are at it.

Paul reached down, scratched her neck, and she began her “I want tuna because I know you have it” dance. We took her outside, gave her some tuna, and when she was finished, like all good cats, she immediately blew us off and went out to search for a couple of more suckers.

Paul the Superhero
My wife, aside from being superhuman and taking pity on me by saying yes over twelve years ago, has taken my assistant, Paul Crnkovich, under her wing. Many of her packages have as much or more for CPL “I would like to buy a vowel” Crnkovich than they do for me. I think it has something to do with her understanding of how hard it is to have such a perfect human being for a roommate. Well, this Paul adoration has now spread to my children. Since Daddy does not carry a weapon and can therefore not protect himself, he has Paul the Superhero to protect him. Well, to a two and almost five-year-old, superheroes are much more cool and fun than, well, Dad. Consequently, Paul has now joined the pantheon of Batman, Spiderman, etc. I consider myself my wife’s favorite husband, so if it takes Paul being a superhero in order for me to get back home to her with all my digits attached and functioning, then Paul, you are my superhero, too.

Bob the Builder (SSG W)
Bob the Builder lives on our FOB. SSG W, a very funny guy from Indiana (who's been kind enough to stop in and ask me how I am doing) is our personal Bob the Builder. He is helping our soldiers do great things when it comes to position improvement (Army-speak for getting internet, bookshelves, anti-mortar T-walls, etc. set up around your living space). With his know-how combined with Joe (Army-speak for soldier) ingenuity, we have the place pretty livable. I will let you in on a little known fact that spans the ages of soldiering: give a soldier enough time and not only will his foxhole have overhead cover and concealment but will also have indoor plumbing and cable TV.

Christmas Trees
We have thus far received three Christmas trees. Thank you so much for the donations. Everyone has been very grateful, but the most grateful by far has been our Special Forces guys. They were so happy to receive a tree that they are going to put in on the roof of their villa, brace it with sandbags, and string it with lights. I will make sure to try to send a picture.

Operation Backpack
I met with CH K, my Iraqi chaplain counterpart, again this week. We usually spend about an hour talking shop over Chai tea. He was very proud to show me his new office and the chapel/mosque he was getting together. Our conversation turned to the school children of the local city. For awhile, the insurgents had been indiscriminately shelling the town. As you can understand, parents kept their children out of school for weeks. Since our IA counterparts were able to clear the outskirts of town of these terrorists, kids are now back in school. I asked CH K what their biggest need was.

Their greatest need is for backpacks. Since they cannot keep supplies at unsecured schools, the children have to lug everything (school supplies, books, lunch, etc.) to and from school. While we can get and have received school supplies, backpacks have been harder to come by. CH K and myself, in conjunction with our Civil Affairs Team and the Iraqi Army, would like to gather enough backpacks to deliver to at least one school (approx. 200 children per school, with over 20 schools within the town and greater suburbs).

If you are interested in donating some backpacks, you can mail them to my posted address. We will try to collect as many as we can, deliver them, and take plenty of pictures. Backpacks with neutral themes (e.g. Britney Spears bad, Mickey Mouse good) for 5-10 year-olds would be best.

Word of the Week
As I sign off, let me leave you with the 3-8 CAB word of the week provided by our Battalion Executive Officer. The word is…jackass-ery. As in, “life here could be easier without the usual jackass-ery of the insurgents.”

Thank You and God Bless
Serving with these soldiers continues to be a truly amazing experience. They are celebrities to me. While they are definitely human (they are tankers, grunts, and chaplains for that matter), their day-to-day courage and compassion continues to show that they are some of the best people in our society. I thank you for loving them, praying for them, and helping them remember how much support they have from back home.

Gratia et Veritas,
Warhorse Archangel