DIGIJOURNAL 006--28 NOV 2006

DATELINE: 28NOV06 PB O'RYAN

Hello everyone,

I am visiting our soldiers here at PB O’Ryan. They are in very good spirits. One thing I have consistently noticed is how every soldier, regardless of rank, has stepped up their performance since arriving here in country. As I walk around the base, soldiers are busy everywhere fixing things, doing maintenance, or getting ready for a patrol. They are motivating. I am reminded, usually when I am wondering why I am here, what an honor it is to serve and work alongside of such amazing people.

What follows below are some observations over the past couple of days.

Headspace and Timing
Soldiers use the above term to describe the adjustment that they must make on the .50 cal machine gun to account for wear of the firing mechanism. If it is not constantly checked, the rounds will jam as the ammo belt goes through the feed tray. It is also used to describe when a soldier makes a bonehead move. Well, I had a headspace and timing issue the other day. Paul and I both have lately been suffering from insomnia, probably due to many things, but the mice using our rooms as an autobahn does not help (more on that later). It grew bad enough for me to visit the doc at the aid station. He gave me some low strength sleep meds, and I felt satisfied that the issue was solved. Unfortunately, for the next two days, I still had trouble sleeping. I got so fed up that I was going to go back to the doc to try something else. I complained about it to Paul (who just rolled his eyes), but when I went to my shelf where I keep my meds I made an interesting discovery: Tylenol and the sleep meds look remarkably similar. I had placed the two pill-filled, Ziploc bags next to one another. Thus, I have made the medical discovery that regular Tylenol in no way helps put one to sleep. After my extended rant to Paul, I sheepishly told him what had happened. I could read what he wanted but was too nice to say in the imaginary cartoon bubble above his head. I had had what soldiers would call a headspace and timing problem.

Jihad Declared Against the Rodents
Mice have infiltrated Patrol Base Paliwoda, specifically the chapel complex. Since you have been so generous with your boxes, they figured that they needed their cut as well. My main issue is not so much that they are vermin that spread disease, but that they are so bold and brazen. My wife had sent me a bag of pistachios, which I love, that I had sitting next to my computer. I was working on something, munching away, when I set the bag down in close proximity. I worked for about ten more minutes when I heard a rustling in the bag. Apparently Iraqi mice also love pistachios. The little rat was practically on his back, rubbing his belly, munching away. Fretting about collateral damage, I did not try to pound the bag since it was so close to the number one, chaplain combat multiplier—the coffee maker. For the next several days the mice invited their buddies to hang out in our room, scuttling about at all hours of the night, driving us crazy to the point that Paul, my chaplain assistant, was chasing them around with a knife. The last straw was when, suffering from the aforementioned insomnia, I was working on my sermon and one of the mice practically came up to me to ask if he could help. I wondered what the feral cats were doing that live outside the chapel, but they are too busy getting fat eating the tuna and other kibble that our soldiers feed them. We were able to bum a mousetrap from our S2. It is at this point, acting as the high priest of Dunlopistan (our commander is LTC Dunlop), that I issued a fatwa against the infidel mice. My dark acolyte, Paul, immediately went to work waging our jihad against the vermin. We had eliminated one just an hour after we set the trap (the trick being to bait it with peanut butter and not cheese). Archangel Household 6 (my wife’s call sign) should be sending us some traps from the mother ship (code for Wal-Mart/Sam’s/Target Boutique). The mice better enjoy their time, because they are going down.

Thank You for the Boxes
Let me share with you how much it means to our soldiers when you send a box with a note in it. We have some new members on our MiTT team (which I think stands for Military Training Team). They help to train our Iraqi Army counterparts and act as liaisons between them and us. One of these new soldiers is an E-7 (Sergeant First Class, i.e. an higher ranking NCO). He is an older guy who has been very helpful. He was able to get a bed for Paul, who had been sleeping on a cot. (Sleeping on a cot, you say, well I must be a mean chaplain. Except I offered Paul a bed, and in keeping with his monastic character, he said he preferred a cot. I responded by saying that it would make me look like a jerk with him sleeping in a cot and me on a bed. To which the Dark Acolyte responded with the challenge that it was really all about me then. At this point I gave up, succumbed to his jedi mind-trick, and went about my business, knowing that, if he could, everything that he owned would be OD [olive drab] green). Anyway, I gave this NCO a box and five letters for a soldier from folks back at home. The next day he came by the chapel to ask if I could decipher an email address. I did, and, thinking that he was only going to respond to one of the cards, asked him how he liked the box, to which I received this response. He said that he was writing everyone back because this was the first time he ever received a box from someone. I knew he had been in Bosnia, and I shared my surprise that this was the first box. He added that not only did he not receive any boxes in Bosnia, but he did not get a box the entire year he was in VIETNAM!!! He then added that all he ever got was people throwing trash on him when he deplaned in the States coming home from his Vietnam tour. I could not say much after that. A box may be a small thing, and it is a hassle to put it together and stand in line to mail it. However, never underestimate how the Holy Spirit can take anything, any small seed we sow, and make it a huge tree. On behalf of that vet, I thank you for making his day.

Medical Supplies
Our engineer company commander and some of our civil affairs folks have asked me to ask you for any excess medical supplies you might have. We have several health clinics in the area, and, due to some bureaucratic inefficiencies, they have had a hard time getting even basic stuff. We would like to get something to pass out to them. What I had in mind was just the necessities: bandages, band-aides, gauze, gloves, masks, etc. Obviously we could not receive controlled substances, but even basic, over the counter meds like aspirin, Tylenol, vitamins, pepto, etc. would be good. Before anyone purchases anything, I know some hospitals and doctor’s offices can only keep things for a certain length of time. I do not know what they do with the stuff when it gets old. I also think that there are trial sizes of things that folks might be able to get. Anyway, it is another request, and you have already been so generous. If you feel moved to get some medical items, we could definitely use them.

Signing Off
I must be going to dinner. I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Life here is good as we "Live the Legend" (The First Cavalry Division’s motto). We have been very blessed, and we are thankful for your prayers. Take care.

Gratia et Veritas
Warhorse Archangel