Special Guest Star...Me

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I know it seems weird to say, but i's like I'm a "stranger in my own home town" everything seems the same and yet... I don't know I imagine everyone goes through this at sometime or other. I reckon I did last time too, just differently. I's a little like on the Soap Operas where the announcer guy comes on and says, "Tonight the part of Greg will be played by..."

I's all part of the the reintegration process and all that though, that will undoubtedly take as long as it takes. Don't get me wrong here, everyone is great, being back is great. There just seems to be something hanging 'round me, some fog or shadow that I can't explain or shake off. Don't worry about me though all will be right in time.

Here's a little video from the Helicopter flight towards home.

Cheers,
g

A Time of Leaving: Part the Second- Jolly Ol' Style

London
I hate London, is that wrong of me? Oh well, lemme break it down the best I can. First there are too many tourists. I know technically we were tourists too, but that is besides the point. I think that everyone once they step outside their little boroughs feels like a tourist. So when people from West Ham go to Chelsea they feel like they don't belong. Seems that way too me anyway. Plus heard to much fekin French being spoken. Truthfully I will take listening to Arabic over French anyday. Maybe it is just me but London is just too much like LA for me, or even New York. Too much snooty shite, fer this Northern lad.We did have fun, our apartment was fekall small, seriously it was practically no bigger than the bed. T'was also way more expensive than our place in Liverpool. But truth be told we were a little tired of the vagabond life at that point and knew we had to get back to near the Capitol to fly out anyway.


We did do some cool stuff though. Took a boat all the way down the Thames to the flood gates. Which are quite the marvel of technology. Here are the big beasts below.


We also went to Greenwich where the time is told and all that. Even Jennifer hadn't been there so that was cool. Looked around at the exhibits and did the whole touristo thing and took pictures on each side of the Prime Meridian, the missus represented the West and I the East. She looks very serious below doesn't she?


We also saw a play in the Theater District whatever the Hell that is called again. Sorry but to me London is just a gateway to better things. but the play was pretty good, called The Warhorse. I's 'bout a boy an' his horse during World War One, and yes we both got a little teary eyed. They used puppet like things and they really had the horses movements down, you could actually suspend belief enough that you'd actually stop worrying about the people pulling the strings.

We ate Falafel almost everyday at the place where Jennifer used to go when she studied there. Took in a coupla museums and all that. Walked around a lot, cos the HQ was really too small to do much else in. And of course we had our share o' pints.
That's another thing too, none of the pubs felt like "yer local" they all seemed packed and like nobody cared about anybody but themselves and the people they were with. I guess London really feels like a city full of strangers, all moving self importantly through their little worlds. Like the Underground is nice and all but really it is fekall 'spensive. Like I said I don't see me spending a lot of time there anymore, gimme the north and the Pool of Life.

One more picture for you all. This may seem like nothing special but remember we hadn't seen planes in like two weeks. Might not seem like that big of a deal if you aren't from somewhere there is a big ass international airport (I mean Sacramento still seems too quiet to me sometimes having spent so much time on the San Francisco Peninsula) but fer chri'sakes there are 3 major airports 'round Londontown.


There we are finished and strangely enough the next time I write dear reader I will be at home. Crazy I know seems like a million years. But worry not about getting bored, even being home will be an adventure for awhile. That and we do have Hawaii next and the big Welcome Home Bash on Labor Day. I want to say thanks to everyone who kept me going and stayed with me to the end, both on the home front and here. You know who you are, you are the People... my People.

Thank You Goodnight!
Cheers,
g

A Time of Leaving: Part the First - Iraqi Style

Book One:
"Like a Ghost Town"

No shit there we were... the last men standing. The unit is on their way home but someone must tie up the loose ends. Matt asked me and how could I refuse, this was it really to finish, to put the period on the end of our sentence (in more ways than one really) in history.

I know, I said I'd never set foot on this monstrosity, but I felt like it was finally gonna get used by Soldiers. We really couldn't resist sitting in the custom made chairs (for the previous Brigade Commander and Command Sergeant Major {Hence the Eagle-not a Star})

We finally got to pack, you know that stuff that everyone else did a week ago and move out of our room. We thought we might as well shrink our footprint. So it was down to the compound to the Executive Trailers, so indoor plumbing for a day at least. Bed bigger than a coffin all that good stuff. But with no one around it was like a ghost town, all we were missing was the tumbleweeds. There were the hangers on (the people who decided it would be a good idea to stay with other units) scooting around who came to scavenge from the wreckage that was left behind. No one really offered to help us with anything, except Eraser Zero but since we really hadn't seen any of these folks for a few days anyway who cares? And it was a little like the Fall of Saigon too, as the time wasn't really published for everyone to leave, and it was pretty early in the AM too. But that is why we were there right, make sure all the T's were dotted and the I's were crossed.

For One Night Only, my own personal toilet and shower.

Of course we had to repack at least once when we got down to the compound, so we didn't get a lot of sleep in our wet CHUs, but when I had to pee I didn't have to walk fek all around to do so, worth it, same with the shower.

Here's the worst road on base, that they couldn't bother to fix until we left.

Book Two:
"Turn the Lights Off When You Leave"

Trips to the incinerator made, keys sorted and turned in, stuff mailed off, arrangements made for the connexs (that should have really left a couple of weeks ago) to head on their long sea journey home. Check, Check, and Double Check, yeah now it's starting to feel real. Long days of getting all this stuff done and figured out are all worth it, cos now we can go go go. Hanging out with the truck drivers and working on Iraqi Sign Language 130 degree heat, frustration, and whatever else all worth it. Watching those big boxes get lifted really gave me feeling of true something...completion, closure, reality... can't really put my finger on it but there it is.

Of course all that was left then were a few emails and phone calls before we turned all that stuff off, I guess besides being a good friend that was my real job, shutting the network down (and I gorra say it felt kinda good too, that) and collecting up everything that still had to be turned in. So I locked the back gate, something that pro'ly hadn't been done in years, neither of us had ever seen it closed. The we burned our last batch of nonsense and made a final sweep of the compound and locking the front gate said, "So Long Suck Hole!"



Now all that was left was sleeping on metal benches at the airport and hoping we could get an early flight out. Helicopter, airplane, pterodactyl... we'd have taken anything. It was still 105 at 2200 or so when we headed out to the airport for the last time, and though we wouldn't quite be leaving Iraq yet, that was okay too. We were shaking off the shackles that had bound us (of course we traded them in for uncomfortable metal benches and the bruises and aches and pains that went with trying to "sleep" on them and headed to meet up with the rest of the company.

And when we finally did get there (we almost made the first flight out, but they only had one seat) the lads (Tim, Top, and the Bomber) were very thoughtful and had gotten us a CHU to sleep in so that we didn't have to go to the tent and General Population. A few hours later we were actually on the plane that would take us out of Iraq, until the 20 year reunion at least.

I have some pictures and video from the helicopter ride across Iraq to the Wild Wild West that I will have to put up later. Till then...

Cheers,
g

"Ringside Seats... There's A Rumble In Brighton Tonight"

Brighton - Hove
Day ? Is it Monday?

Brighton isn't the Brighton that Jane Austin wrote about... if it ever was. Once the playground of royalty and the rich,Brighton is now...


I's not bad or anything, just different than what either of us expected. Like I said the missus knew about Brighton and the like from ol' Jane, me I expected nothing I guess. I don't even thing the Brighton alluded to above is even the "right" Brighton. But since we were down south might as well take it all in, "don't know when I'll be back again" and all that. Guess I am just a northerner at heart, Northern California, Northern Brition, northern Iraq was okay too, you know if you like brownish gray snow. But (as usual) I digress...

Simple fact is that it's matchday, and we are trapped (pleasently though) in ol' Blighty so why not back to the Promised Land to watch the Reds take on the Hammers? I asked, I mentioned it more than once... not that we had a bad time in Brighton, but... I know, I know get over it yeah. Okay as of now i won't mention the fact that we shoulda gone back to Liverpool. (Well maybe once more, but it will all be in context, promise.)


We had a good walk around though, checked out the pier and all that. Didn't really get caught up in the games or attractions, but I reckon we simply aren't those kinda folks. Yeah no sand on this beach just these lovely sand coloured rocks.


Best part though was the fact that once we finally found a place to watch the match, we got to do so in our own private lounge. Or so it seemed, they said they were going to be showing it upstairs at a Whetherspoon's but they hadn't opened the velvet rope yet, The missus being who she is once the clock struck she was over the rope and up the stairs. Clocked out a couch right in front of the giant tele, and I eventually brought up the ale. I didn't see where she went at first, and was thinking she was coming back. She came and got me eventually and we took our seats to watch the Reds hammer the Hammers. Only thing though (yeah here it comes again) we saw all these empty seats at Anfield and inspite of our good fortune we felt a little homesick. The picture at the top of the blog (the banner, if you will) is actually taken from that night. That's me reaching for a Bombadier as the Men In Red score.

Tonight I will download the last of the Iraq pictures and get ready to close down that chapter. Still a couple days from the Capitol to ramble on about as far as Jolly Ol' so stay tuned if you want to hear the venom and frustration that is London.

Back in the states as of way too early today.

Cheers,
g