The state of the internet, such that it is…

So, I am spending far too much time and money in McDonalds these days. No no, don’t get me wrong, it isn’t to eat, as I am still on a diet, it is to use the internet. Yea, you may want to re-read that. I am using the T-Mobile hotspot at the McDonalds.

Why, you might ask. Well, so glad you asked.

I went to sign up for internet service the other day. It took forever. I waited in line for nearly an hour to talk to the lone representative only to have him tell me in the first 30 seconds that he couldn’t help me because I owed him money. What!?!?! Apparently, the phone provider that I go through didn’t receive my final payment when I turned off my service before I left for Iraq, over 15 months ago. For some odd reason, even though I clearly remember getting my “final bill” and paying it, they say I owe them 48 euro. Except that it isn’t 48 euro. You see, the bill was turned over to a collection agency and now I owe the collection agency 48 euro and a bunch of fees and probably a bunch of interest. Well that isn’t cool. I now have to search my apartment to find that final bill which I am sure I kept, because, heck I didn’t have much going on the last few days before I deployed.

So what does that have to do with internet you ask? Well, 19 months ago when I moved into this apartment I attempted to get internet hooked up (apparently it is a good thing I failed because that 48 euro would probably be 150 euro) and was told that internet wasn’t available where I live.

What?

Now it isn’t as though I live in some tiny backwater town surrounded by cows. I am a mere 8.4 miles from Schweinfurt, and a quick 2 minutes from a major autobahn. I’m not in the styx here! The problem is that I can’t find out if that situation has been remedied until I pay that outstanding bill or prove to them that I already did. So first, I have to find the bill, then I have to wait 2 weeks while TKS verifies that I actually paid it, then I have to go back to TKS, wait in line again, and then wait 2 weeks for them to tell me that I can’t get internet. Is anyone else here frustrated?

I have to have internet. I just do. Internet is what separates us from monkeys. Yea, I said it, but I don’t have to worry because monkeys aren’t going to come after me because, as I have so definitively pointed out in the previous sentence, monkeys don’t have internet, and this blog is only posted on the internet. I am safe. Monkeys do have art and literature and all that, but not internet. Oh, you need more proof huh, well I read somewhere that I won’t bother remembering where, that there is a monkey somewhere with a typewriter and he has pounded out all of the works of Shakespeare, or will shorty. I have it on good authority. There may also be more than one monkey working on the project, but I am sure it doesn’t matter to my point.

So there you have it, I have provided definitive proof and flawless logic, the internet makes you human. (If you can’t follow, I recommend drinking more and re-reading the blog. Repeat as necessary.)

So here I sit, in McDonalds happily posting to my blog; getting weird looks from the other tables as a laugh maniacally at daydreams of monkeys trying to use the internet. Stupid monkeys.

Oh yea, and occasionally I’m doing my schoolwork too. I think I need some fries now…

I am officially a bike commuter...

... at least in my mind. I have ridden to work before. I did it a handful of times before I deployed. Today though, I consider myself an official bike commuter. Today I did it without the benefit of all of my clothes waiting for me at the office. Heck I did it without the benefit of an office to go to at all. I also did it without the benefit of nice weather. It snowed today.

I got up at 0645. I laid out all of my stuff last night, checked the tire pressure, installed my head and tail lights, put some food in my bag and budgeted an hour and a 45 minutes to get to work and change.

When I looked out the window I saw something that confused me. White. Lots of white. Now admittedly it was merely a sprinkle but to me it looked like a blizzard. Especially since last night was so clear. I expected cold, I didn't expect snow.

So I made the 20 second decision to go ahead and ride in, despite the weather. I tossed a couple of extra clothing items in my bag and then just got to it. It was fantastic. I had a blast. It wasn't too cold, I had no problem with traction, and I left early enough that I didn't have to push myself (traction again.) The only issue I had was once I got into town the snow went away and I had wet roads instead of snowy trails. I started getting damp. I got to work in about an hour and then had time to eat and change before anyone got there.

So now I am sitting at the library on post contemplating my ride home. This might suck a bit. The damp clothing has not subsided and while my base layers are dry the outer ones aren't, nor are my gloves. Guess I will have to break out the extra gloves and socks. No problem.

I won't say that I am morally superior to everyone who drove in today, but then again I shouldn't have to, it should be obvious.

HA!

Oh yea, and despite the weather, I grinned like an idiot the whole way in. I think I chapped my teeth.

Germany, Thanksgiving, and the Levasseur Family Memory

So I know that this entry was written out of order, but I post-dated it so that it fit chronologically even though I wrote this post after a few of the others on this blog. I don’t think it matters though, I’m not sure that anyone actually reads this other than me. I find it amusing, I guess that’s all that’s important.

I returned to Germany on Tuesday, 20 November. We flew in to Ramstein Air Base in Germany and arrived back in Schweinfurt before noon. We waited for a bit and then had a very nice reintegration ceremony in which nearly 500 screaming family members greeted around 250 returning members of the Dagger Brigade. I admit, it was a nice ceremony, comments were kept to a minimum, the ceremony was short and the outright din, as we marched into the gymnasium, was deafening. I am surprised I didn’t see more people choked up. It occurred to me as we were walking in that this was probably the last time I will ever march in formation with a group of soldiers as a soldier myself. It made me a little sad.

The next day we started our reintegration training. Reintegration consists of half-day schedules for seven consecutive days. During this time they do medical screening, finance briefings, relationship counseling, update your records and various other stuff. It is really pretty well planned and most days you don’t spend the entire four hours you are scheduled for actually at work, you get done early most days. The only hitch is that there is only room for 250 people in the morning session, and 250 people in the afternoon session. I was part of 1400 soldiers returning to Schweinfurt in 36 hours. You do the math. That led to some issues but nothing that they didn’t do a fantastic job handling.

At this point I must share a story, and this is where the “Levasseur Family Memory” from the title comes in. I went out to breakfast the first morning back. I stopped into a little deli just down the street on my way to work. I sat down, ordered and had a nice German breakfast of yogurt, toast and coffee. As I got ready to leave I realized that I no longer remembered how to ask for the check. I did however remember that pulling your wallet out and waving it at the waitress will often give them the hint that you are ready to pay. I did just that feeling pretty proud of myself for remembering that little fact.

She waved back.

No, seriously, all she did was wave back. Oh good lord. A little later, good thing I had budgeted extra time to get to work, she came back out and I again tried to get my check. I did everything I could think of, I pushed my plate away, I gathered my things, I had my wallet out, I smiled and furtively checked my watch. She smiled back. Finally, a little old German guy asked me if I was trying to let her know that I wanted to pay.

“Yes! Thank you! Can you help me?”

“Sure.” Then in German, “actuchung, deutches bank, achtchung, autobahn, phlegm, betzahlen.”

It then dawned on me, the word I was looking for was betzahlen, which of course is some verb tense or other of the German verb meaning: to pay and please randomly insult me in a language which I clearly don’t understand.

“Ja! Betzahlen Bitte!” I say happily.

“Ah, so! Actuchung, deutches bank, achtchung, autobahn, phlegm,” she very politely said to me.

The very helpful old German says, “She just told you how much your bill was.”

In defeat I handed her my entire wallet. She gave it back later with a smile, I have no idea how much money she took out.

The next day was Thanksgiving. I had some grand plans to do absolutely nothing. Well, not true. I said from the day we arrived back in Schweinfurt, “I am going for a bike ride on Thanksgiving day. Come hell or high water, you mark my words.” Other than that though I had plans to do nothing. I decided that I would go out and pick up Chinese food and eat it at home while sitting on the couch watching TV shows I had forgotten I owned. It didn’t work out.

Well, the ride did. Neither hell, nor high water tried to interfere. It was a nice day about 35 degrees or so and while the roads were damp they weren’t wet enough to throw water into my face as I rode. I donned my newly acquired cold weather cycling gear that I purchased, much to the mockery of my friends, while in Iraq while it was still 90 degrees and had shipped back to Germany in plenty of time for it to arrive before I did. I had no idea how much clothing I would need so I just loaded up for bear and hoped for the best. I wore heavy weight tights, shoe covers, a skullcap that covered my ears, a merino wool cycling jersey (from Earth Wind and Rider), a light windbreaker and mid-weight gloves. I had heavier gloves and a full balaclava but I decided that both were probably overkill. As it was I think I did pretty well. It was chilly at first but soon afterwards I warmed up and even had the jacket and sweater unzipped a bit during the warmer parts of the ride.

Oh, and boy did I warm up fast! My plan was simple. Take no gadgets, no heart rate monitors, no odometers, no GPS, no timers other than a wrist watch. Then, find the nearest hill (easy since I live on one) and ride up it till I got to the top. While on the top, fighting the expected urge to throw up and pass out simultaneously, I would scan the horizon to find another hill to ride up and I would ride down the one I was on and go up that other one. I would do this until I passed out, I ran out of food, or I was about to freeze to death.

What a grand time I had. I even had a good time during my, uh, incident. About an hour and a half through the ride I was flying through the little town of Shonungen when I unceremoniously and nearly got hit by a bus. You see, this bus had to go around a house that had been incongruously built right in the middle of the road smack dab in the middle of the town (a strangely common occurrence in Germany, especially considering how ordered the rest of their lives are.) This of course caused the front of the bus to swing wide and fully into my lane. I am, at this point doing about 25 MPH (I think, remember I had no speedometer either) and am now facing a rather large bus coming towards me. Fortunately there is low (1 inch or so) curb to my right and plenty of sidewalk that runs next to the buildings on my side of the street. I steer in that direction and that’s when it happens.

I gloriously wipe out.

For some reason my front wheel didn’t roll over the curb as I expected it to. It caught and stayed in the gutter spilling me face first onto the pavement. I went down in a heap, managed to get a hand and a foot down and that is when I realize that now I am in real trouble. For some reason the house on this side of the street has an “L” bend in it causing the wide sidewalk to become a narrow sidewalk with the wide part of the sidewalk ending neatly and abruptly in a very sturdy stone wall which I am now sliding towards.

I have no idea what happened next. All I know is that I went down in a jumble, had time to think, “well this is going to suck,” and then I stopped two very short and very precarious inches from the wall. Neat. It must have looked ugly though because the bus driver stopped and didn’t move on until I hopped quickly back on my bike (I was embarrassed that I crashed, though I don’t know why, it seems to be what I do on a bike) and rode away. This is when I realized that I had completely wrapped my chain around my crank and that the two rotations of my pedals finalized the complete smurfing of my chain.

So, 15 feet later I had to stop and look at my mangled drivetrain. Not cool. I spent about 10 minutes breaking my chain (that is the repair term, and not a bad thing) and putting everything back together. About this time, the same bus and driver actually came back through and asked me if I wanted a ride to the hospital. I guess he figured that if I was still there I must be hurt.

Of course I must admit that I didn’t know what he was asking until later. He said something like, “actuchung, deutches bank, achtchung, autobahn, phlegm, krankenhhaus.” I wasn’t really cranky at all, in fact I was still laughing and grinning like an idiot, so I figured I didn’t need anything having to do with the cranky-house. I was simply so happy to be back on my bike. Later I looked up krankenhaus and realized that it had nothing to do with cranky people, or not directly, it means hospital. Either way I am glad I said no.

The ride ended rather uneventfully a mere two and a half hours later. I nearly passed out on the bike, I was happy.

I didn’t get my Chinese food. I ended up eating dinner at a friend’s house. He wouldn’t accept no for an answer and eventually tricked me into coming over, “Just to say hi to everyone, then you can leave.” I showed up at the appointed time and immediately heard my host say, “Well, Dave’s here, lets eat!” It was very nice of him but I cursed at him under my breath just the same.

So life is good. I have great beer, great friends, and an idiot’s grin plastered on my face every time I walk past what used to be my office and has now become my bike workshop. At some point I will take pictures.

On the way...

Or I will be shortly.  I leave Iraq in the next 24 hours.  At this point it looks like I will be headed to Kuwait for at least a few days before catching a charter to Germany.  

Transfer of Authority ceremony was today and that officially ends our time in Baghdad.  The only thing left is actually getting out of here.

Looking forward to catching up with all of you as soon as I can.

Dave

Last Full Moon

One of the nicest things about this place is the sky.  We have lots of it.  No, really, lots.  We don't get clouds, and when we do they are few and far between.  I am of course not talking about the 6 weeks of the year that constitute the rainy season, those are in the winter and I'm not there yet.  I am talking about the rest of the year, when it's hot.  Then, we get lots of sky.

Nice thing about lots of sky is lots of stars.  Most neighborhoods around here get 6 hours of electricity a day.  You can pretty well bet that they aren't going to waste any of that on street lights.  What that means is that you get very little light pollution.  The sky is very dark the stars pop right out of it.

Another nice sight is the moon.  I have really been living by it.  I track when it is going to be full.  I keep an eye out for sunrises or sunset in which the moon is hanging big and full on the horizon.  I love it.  Tonight is my last full moon I will see here.  I know it seems a silly way to count down the time but there it is.  My way.  

Tonight is the last time I will see the moon full over Baghdad and it was a beautiful one too.  The moon rose just before sunset, big and orange on the horizon.  It will be up all night long and will set shortly after sunset.  Nice.

See you later old friend.  Next time I see you we will both be in a far nicer place.

Under 30 Days

Yep, that's right.  I have less than 30 days remaining here in Iraq.  I can't tell you exactly how many, but it is under 30.  I am very excited.

We are packing up.  Printers that don't really need to be used every day are going into a connex.  Rooms are being packed up and things are getting shipped home.  I have a room full of boxes that I need to take to the post office.  One nice thing about living in Germany is that to ship a box home to myself it costs nothing at all.  No, really.  It stays in the Army system so there is not charge, unless, of course, you want insurance on that item.  Then, not only do you have to pay the insurance but you also have to pay shipping.  I have camera equipment and the like that I am sending insured mail.  Ok, so I had to pay for a few packages, not too shabby considering that I am sending 5-6 large foot lockers home for free.

So, anyhow, you should all think warm thoughts for me, and us.  We will be home soon, lets home it all goes without a hitch.

Night Ride!

I am going out on a night ride tonight. Ok, so it isn't the great fun that most people have on a night ride: the world turned a surreal imitation of itself through the tiny beam of light from your handlebar. New trails from old familiar ones. Animals peering at you, just a glimmer of their shining eyes the only clue that they are there. No, none of that for me.

It isn't a true night ride. In fact I barely need a light, though I will have one, if only to keep myself from being run over, the awesome 0.3 watt LED shining out for, hopefully, oncoming cars to wonder at until they get really close. But, it is a ride, at night. I have that going for me.

I wasn't supposed to ride tonight. I should have ridden this morning. This leads us to the lesson for the day.

If you set your alarm clock for 4:30 PM, it will not wake you up for your 5:00 AM ride. At least, not today's ride. Keep that in mind kiddies.

Like a gnat to a buffalo.

I almost got run over by a tank today.  Yea, a tank.  You know, those big squarish, 62 ton monsters that ruin the dreams of the enemies of the United States.  Yea, one of those.

It was a pretty tame ride up to that point.  I got spinning a bit later than normal, but that was OK, the training plan only called for an hour and I would be back in plenty of time to get a shower, a meal and a nap, in that order.  So a bit later than normal meant that it was getting light out.  I didn't need a light to see, I did need a light for others to see me.

I was slipping through the morning when I got on my third most unfavorite piece of road.  This is the road that leads to the Entry Control Point, i.e. the gate to get on and off the forward operating base I live on.  I hate this section because it is extremely dusty, and sometimes, dangerous.

So I turned the corner onto this section and ahead of me was a long line of stopped heavy trucks and Hummers coming in from a patrol.  All vehicles have to stop after coming in the gates so that they can unload and clear their weapons.   I stayed on my side of the road, they were going away from the gate, I was heading towards it and I knew it wouldn't be a problem.  I stayed alert though and looked up towards the gate as I heard a heavy clanking and a turbine.  "Ooh, tanks.  I like tanks!" I thought as I peered through the heavy dust up ahead.  

Seconds later, and only about 75 yards away there was indeed a tank.  Coming towards me.  Not slowing.  Driver still inside his hatch using his tiny viewing blocks to drive.  Not seeing me.  Not seeing me.  50 yards away.

I make the intelligent choice and dodge between two trucks that don't have their drivers reloaded yet and get off the road.  I figured that a big heavy truck between me and the tank was just what I needed.  I got off my bike and walked a bit all the while enduring confused stares from the Soldiers coming off patrol.

Getting hit by a tank.  Not recommended.  For me it would be catastrophic.  For the tank, well, that is where the title of this entry came from.

So it's been a year already huh?

Well, I have been here a year now.  Not exactly HERE as in Iraq, but I have been deployed into theater for exactly a year today, 6 September 2007.  

As many of you know we started our deployment by first deploying to Kuwait.  While there we were supposed to do three weeks of training before moving on to Balad, Iraq a place I am already intimately familiar with since I already spent 12 months there in 2004-2005.  As it turned out we didn't do that.  Another unit was selected for that mission due to their organizational similarities to the outgoing unit.  That all made sense but what didn't make sense was that my brigade, which had deployed sooner, was staying while another brigade was already moving into Iraq.  

To see why this is a problem you have to know a bit about Camp Buehring, Kuwait.  Let me sum it up with this simple phrase:  We would rather be in combat in Iraq than in Camp Buehring, Kuwait.  Yea, its that bad.

We finally got orders to replace the 2nd Brigade of the 1st Armored Division and I arrived in Iraq on or about 1 November.  So, no, I haven't been in Iraq for a year yet and in fact once I do leave I will have only been in Iraq for a few weeks over the 52 that encompass a year, but still, I have been deployed now for a year.

On another note, I left work a little early last night with the intention of going out and getting in a quick bike ride.  Gale force winds put an end to that idea.  Always nice to see armored vehicles getting blown off of roads by the wind.  I don't think that riding is such a good idea when that happens.  I only survived the walk to my room because I put sand in my pockets after dinner.  Oh, yea, and I had a piece of cake.  I am sure that helped too.

It's Almost Easy to Forget Where you Are.

A nearly unprecedented thing happened this morning. I woke up 15 minutes before my alarm went off and actually got up. It was strange that I had woken up this morning, after all, it was only 4:45 and I hadn’t managed to fall asleep until after midnight. I used the opportunity to wolf down some Clif Shot Blocks and drink some water.

It was easy to get out for my ride this morning. All of my clothes were already laid out, my water bottles were filled and ready to go, I had already changed out the lenses on my sunglasses, and my lights were mounted, and fully charged. The only hitch that I had was getting my heart rate monitor tracking.

After warming up and stretching out I got on the road about 5:15. At that time the sunrise is still about an hour away and on this particular morning the nearly full moon had set several hours earlier. Those of you who have ridden a bike in the dark know who I was feeling. My entire world was reduced to what was visible inside the small cone of dim light coming from my handlebar.

I was alone save for the unseen but ever present bats swooping constantly above me and the occasional bus rumbling by me taking workers to dining facilities, construction yards, or guard posts.

I rolled on silently, listening to the sounds of the night interrupted only by the crunch of sand under my wheels and the swish of my shorts on the saddle.

That’s when it happened.

Within that fairly confined world that consisted simply of the sounds around me and the relatively small area encompassed by my light, I forgot where I was.

I was just happy to be outside, flying along under my own power. It was wonderful.

As you might imagine, this didn’t last long. In no time I was within a stones throw of the outer perimeter. The yellow-orange lights illuminating the concertina wire-topped wall. These blooming, necessary evils adding to the tiny sliver that had been my world just moments before.

The quiet crunch of my tires was eventually overwhelmed by the diesel roar of heavy trucks, the unmistakable clank and squeal of tracked infantry fighting vehicles, and the strangely beautiful and comforting banshee scream of an M1 Abrams tank engine at idle.

The illusion was shattered. I knew, I felt, and I could see, in stark relief where and when I was.

You know what though, it didn’t matter.

I was just happy to be outside, flying along under my own power. It was wonderful.