11 Months

The 29th of September marks the end of our 11th month in theater. Next month I’ll try to reflect upon the significance of One full year. October starts the countdown to an entire year away from our families, friends, and things that we are comfortable with. We now have new comforts. Comforts that we would otherwise rather do without, never have turned to, or never have thought of as a comfort given any other situation.

What do I find comfortable? Well, the past 3 months have a different level of comfort due to the fact that I moved into a CHU what allows some personal refuge. Initially, when we arrived, a bed with a mattress constituted comfort both physically and mentally. While some people were still sleeping on stretched nylon/canvas cots, I made the effort to scavenge the pieces of a bed and a decent mattress. After a few weeks, my tough box came in and I had linen. A small creature comfort? Sure. It was a tiny semblance of something from home. From there, it took 8 months until I was to a better place; a greater level of ease in this austere environment. In July, as you have probably read I finally moved out of a large tent without privacy, to a can. Four walls, a door with a lock, and climate control. It was a small paradise. Closing the door of the CHU, I can go to my own little world. Turn on the music I like, with speakers, no longer being forced to use headphones, sit in the clothes that I choose without someone leering for not being in the proper T shirt with those shorts, etc. And walking bare foot. Yes, bare foot. I clean my floor with Clorox every other day or so, so I can do so. I can’t tell you what it is like to feel that free. When I went on leave in June, the most extraordinary sensation, other than being around my amazing Wife, was being able to walk barefoot around our hotel room. When we were in Garmisch, I ran on a freshly mowed soccer field bare foot. The moist soil under my foot and the soft grass between my toes was the most sensually awakening experience. That was the first time, other than walking to the bathroom in the hotel rooms the few days prior, that I had been bare foot in over 8 months. Now, in my CHU, I can walk on the vinyl flooring or my little area carpet, sans foot wear. Small event. Big feeling.

The other major thing that I have immersed myself in to find a level of mental and physical ease, is coffee. Caffeine aside, the flavors of different roasts, the aroma, the actual act and sounds of making that magnificent beverage, brings me back home. Sunday’s with my parents in the living room reading the paper, or the weekends in KY with my extraordinary wife watching real estate shows on HGTV. Pure, unadulterated peace and relaxation. I can try (try being the operative word here) to replicate that by sitting in my camp chair, Ray Lamontagne (or whomever I choose) playing on speakers, magazine/book in hand, and a hot cup of coffee. I have reverted to this activity daily now as opposed to just the weekends, and every time I still feel ultra relaxed. It’s one of the few ways to maintain a sound mind out here, between stupid uniform rules and the increasing level of stupidity and ignorance and disrespect that the soldiers all around me are exhibiting, as we continue to plod along in this deployment.

I never thought that walking barefoot, listening to music through speakers and simply having sheets instead of a sleeping bag would make such a difference in the level of my morale. I hope that when I return home to the luxuries of life in the States, that I don’t forget the little things and start to take for granted what I have. Good coffee, comfortable furniture, and something that I know I’ll never take for granted, the company of loved ones, especially my wife.

I’m glad in some ways to have been given this opportunity to inspect myself internally. I’m not glad to be separated from Dee, or my friends and family. This desert experience, both in figurative and literal sense, has been eye opening in regards to self assessment and awareness. As much as I hate it here, there has been some good that came from it. Now we should be going home, but are still settled in for 3+ months of continuing the same ol’ routine.

As we enter the countdown to a year of being separated, I urge you to take stock of your blessings and even misfortunes and see how they have affected your life. Appreciate it all. Or at the very least, acknowledge it.

Also, think about what a year means to you. I want to put into perspective the concept of ONE YEAR. Social, personal, economic, political, I’m not picky. Give me your thoughts and observations and I will put them and some of my own into the next BLOG. 22 October, will mark the day that Dee and I parted ways from the Army Lodge at Ft. Stewart. 29 October will mark the day I boarded a plane to this ….. this…. place.

Until then, I’m counting down the days. I’m guesstimating approximately 95. Oh to be in that 30 day window.