Let me define happiness for you. Happiness is having a 1 hour phone conversation with your son who is in Baghdad after not hearing from him in 5 days.
I know this has nothing to do with dog training and I tell friends that I write about Jeff because it is a release. I (right or wrong) sometimes find myself getting pissed that the general public forgets that there are families everywhere who have sons, daughters husbands and wives in Iraq. I know that the members of this board are deeply concerned but it helps to write.
With this said - when Jeff calls I take notes. I find myself so excited that I am afraid that I will forget what he says. So I take notes. I read the notes later – they help bring me back to the moment.
Tonight I got 6 pages of notes. I told Jeff what I am doing and that’s why I make him repeat things. It surprises me that he has the patience to accept my asking him to repeat different things. He does it with the maturity of a grandfather explaining things to a grandchild – like he wants to make sure I get it straight.
An example tonight was his work schedule and how it has changed. He tried to explain what he did and why he had not called in 4 days. He went through it and I took notes. I knew I did not know all the military abbreviations for what he was doing but I wrote them down anyway. We then talked for an hour and at the end I felt guilty (for keeping him up it was 2:30 AM after a patrol when he called ) and I told him I did not understand everything about his work and I would like to clarify it in our next phone call. Rather than say OK Dad – he said what don’t you understand? I can go through it again now.
He has another patrol to make at 7 AM. How do you do this? He would rather talk and explain his work schedule than sleep.
Tonight was the first time he wondered about working three weeks straight 24/7 without a day off for $1,100.00 a month. He mentioned that contractors make $200,000.00 a year and thought that was pretty appealing - you see he does not own a vehicle and the thought of $200,00.00 goes a long way with a 19 year old.
His Uncle is a contractor in the green zone and will visit him this Sunday. Jeff will give his Uncle a CD with photos that he has taken since Dec 7th. His Uncle is coming home to the States next week and will mail it to me. I will post the photos.
Jeff was pretty proud that several photos would be of him being lowered into tunnels that they are finding. They use the body ropes I sent (see my other posts). His SSGT made a harness for Jeff and they daisy chained body ropes to lower in into tunnels to check where they went.
I shake my head at this and have no comment. But when I talked to one of my best friends tonight ( a narcotics officer I worked with for 10 years ) he reminded me that had this been 30 years ago it would be me being in the tunnel and its hard to argue those facts.
Jeff and I talked about the suicide bomb last Monday. He had been on foot patrol the night before and was sleeping when it went off. He said the bomb was so big that it shock the entire marble and concrete palace building he lives in like an earth quake.
He said he has been through 4 suicide bombs since getting there on Dec 7th (which killed more than 40 people) and this was by far the biggest. It knocked every spec of dust off his walls and ceiling along with a lot of things on shelves. It was way way way bigger than mortars hitting the roof. He told me this was the bomb that killed 10 and wounded 50 and left a 4 foot deep hole that was 11 feet long. The motor that hit 3 feet outside their FOB (foreword observation post) last week barely cracked the cement.
We talked about what he needed and he said he and his platoon members only eat one meal a day because they work so much. He told me they would rather try and sleep than walk to the cafeteria and eat. The army has a palate of MRE's outside their building that they scrounge from. The best thing they like the most is the reconstituted strawberry milk shakes. I asked him if he wanted me to sent hot chocolate and he said “no” – they don’t have hot water where they live.
I asked if there was anything I could send and he said “no”. It’s like he accepts their position and does not want to bother me with sending things. So I can only guess - but the milk shakes are something that I will look into.
We went on to talk about his patrols - on his mounted patrols - patrols in Humvee’s he likes to be the guy in the turret. There is a gun they say has the 240 that shoots grenades like a machine gun (any veterans out there can correct me) But this is something Jeff prefers. I guess it’s a visual thing with him being able to see the crap before it happens.
So there is more I can write but it’s getting late. I have gotten emails from fathers of other military members whose sons are having a bad time after they get home. I cannot tell you how my heart carries the weight of these emails. The letters are disturbing because I look in the mirror and live with the people who write them.
I have some thoughts on this – I will write more later about it.
Ed