What is it like to deploy to the Middle East for member of the military?

I figured I would try to capture the “flavor” of the deployment so you guys might have a better understanding of what it is like to be here. Obviously, there is the normal I miss my family, home, dog and all that stuff, but I wanted to focus more on the day to day life of the deployment.

From the moment I stepped off the plane, I instantly remembered why I hate this part of the world. At 4:30 in the morning the sun was already slowly coming over the horizon and it was probably somewhere near 85 degrees. As the sun came up the first thing that struck me was the fact you could barely make out the horizon because the dust was so thick. You could feel and smell it in the air. They shuttled us from the plane (of which we just spent the better part of a day in), to a couple of large tour buses. The buses had obviously seen better days and every flat surface in the bus had a fine coat of tan dust that resembled talcum powder. The bus drove us from the airfield to a dirt field that had rows of port-a-johns and a couple of tents with picnic tables under them. The whole area was surrounded by high barricades and barbwire (I guess so we don’t make a run for it?). This meant the view consisted of dry sandy dust below us, concrete walls all around us and brown sky above. It’s kind of what I always imagine a prison exercise yard would look like right before a fight brakes out.

At our first stop, we got some water, used the port-a-johns, and mostly just sat and waited. Apparently, we were waiting for the Kuwaiti Minister of Defense to clear us into the country. We sat at the tables, we sat on the bus. But after 18 hours on a plane and little to no sleep and with the hot desert sun getting stronger in the sky, we just sat. After what seemed like a short eternity, we loaded everybody back up on the bus and began the slow convoy from the airport to Ali Al Salem. They said it was normally a 35 minute drive, but because of the convoy it would take closer to 90 minutes, and it did.

We were directed to pull the curtains closed on the bus windows (I’m sure it was so our host country would not be offended by our presence). What I did see out the window made our first night in Tunisia look great. There was lots of barbwire. I don’t think it was for safety or security as much as it was to capture all the blowing garbage. It was everywhere along the road. There was also the typical partially falling down abandoned buildings, a scrub tree here or there, but mostly it was just sand and garbage. They really need to consider some sort of adopt a highway program.

Nearly four ours after we first touched down on the ground, we arrived at Ali Al Salem. The first thing they did was off-load everybody from the bus and moved us into a large passenger terminal to begin in-processing. Now it was after 8am and it was starting to heat up. Earlier in the morning, it wasn’t bad, maybe mid-70s. But now it was quickly climbing up into the 80s and it was only eight in the morning. In-processing consist basically of sitting one room for a long time, answering a few questions and then moving to another room for a long time. Again, we sat and waited and sat and waited. After unloading our bags, loading our bags, unloading our bags and then reloading our bags we finally arrived at our tents at around 3:30pm. So, after flying for nearly a day and then almost 12 hours after touching down in country, we finally got to see our rooms. I think my heart sunk to my knees and my jaw must have hit the threshold as I walked in the door. The tent was pitch black inside with a couple of exposed bulbs to light the room. Along each side was eight Army cots (most of them broken). And except for the dust covering the floor there didn’t appear to be anything else in the room. No furniture and not a window to be found. After receiving a quick briefing on the location of the bathrooms and the dinning hall, we were told to report back to the in-processing area at 0800 the next morning. It didn’t take me long to claim a cot (actually two – one for me and one so my luggage didn’t get any dirtier), find my stuff and head straight the shower. Now these showers are actually referred to as “Cadillac’s.” At first, I figured this was somebody’s sick sense of humor, because they were awful nasty. The toilets didn’t flush, you had to pump the handle six times to get the pee out of them (I couldn’t wait to see what happened when I had to take a dump). The showers consisted of five stalls on each side with a nasty wooden bench in the middle. The good news was by this time of the day, there was no need for hot water as the tap water came hotter than most showers I take. Of course, compared to the port-a-johns everywhere, I guess they were the Cadillac’s of port-a-johns! After showering and shaving with 20 of my new closest friends, I headed back to the tent to get some fresh clothes on. Unfortunately, we are only allowed to wear two things in the AOR: Dessert Cami Uniforms and PT Gear with white socks and running shoes. It took about two seconds after I put my new white socks on for them to turn black on the tent floor. Lesson learned, don’t walk around barefoot in this place.

Things got better the next two days. You quickly get used to the heat. Well, maybe a better term is you accept the heat. The tents were great. The A/C ran constantly in the tents. The A/C would have to run all night so the tent had a chance of being tolerable during the day. This meant once the sun went down, the tent would drop to somewhere near fifty degrees. I was laughing when the told me to sleep in a sleeping bag, now I was wishing I had brought that mummy bag. Despite the A/C all night, the tents would still get over 85 degrees during the day. The biggest inconvenience was the midnight trip to the Cadillac. You have to put on your PT gear (to include running shoes and white (now brown) socks) and walk a couple hundred yards to the nearest facility. You can’t avoid these trips. Due to the ungodly heat during the day, you have to constantly slug down water to avoid dehydration (the urinals all have “pee meters” to ensure you drinking enough). The excess consumption guarantees you’ll be getting up at least once in the middle of the night.

Of course I thought Ali Al Salem was hell on earth, right until I arrived in Balad. Take everything from Ali and add the joy of having to wear a 45 pound flack jacket, helmet, weapon, constant mortar attacks and you have the vague impression of what it is like to visit Iraq. But that’s for another post!