To Cole. May your new journey bring you many rewards and may the trials you suffered in this life serve you in the next.
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It pains me greatly to be writing this. Here I am in the middle of more senseless killing than I could ever imagine, very little of which relates directly to me. A fact I am very thankful for to be quite honest. What pains me is that I am writing about a death that recently took place in one of my hometowns, a death that affects me directly more directly then any death that has taken place in the country of Iraq thus far.

This will be the second time in my existence when I have left home and shortly thereafter been informed of the death of a loved one. The first time was hard enough. The first time it was complicated. The first time, she might have been my future wife. I was unable to return to pay my respects for one year. My first stop upon my return was to her grave side and then to her family. She passed senselessly and well before her time.

This time the individual is a blood relative, a blood relative that I consider another brother. At a time when I am just getting to know my father’s side of the family another senseless death rears its ugly head. I call it senseless because, Cole was young, talented, intelligent and just one of those people that made you feel good to be around. His laugh was infectious; his demeanor was professional but playful. There is no doubt in my mind he had the potential to be the worlds most talented chef.

For me death is a unique consequence of life. I will treat Cole’s death as I have treated all the others. I will morn him for my benefit, because he is no longer in my life. I will celebrate for his benefit because he passed into the afterlife to begin a new journey; the next step in his evolution of the soul. I will never forget the short amount of time I was able to get to know him. I will make a stronger effort to get to know the family I have left. We will meet again, but not yet.

For my family that must bear the arduous task of Cole’s burial, know that my thoughts and prayers are with you. Know that I would give anything to be there by your side. Be strong in this time of sadness for you are not alone in your grief.

At a minimum, once a year I like to take stock in what I truly value and in a round about sort count my blessings. Most people do this around Christmas time or Thanks Giving, both very appropriate times for this sort of behavior but I throw in an extra day. A day that’s a little more personal to me then to most, my birthday.

Three hundred and sixty-five days have passed since I was last in this situation. The real shame in that statement is I really can’t remember what I was doing on my last birthday. I am sure it was something I wanted to be doing otherwise I wouldn’t have done it. This year, I will head down to the medical area and get a flight physical. Not exactly the best of times. Then I will return to my little abode and get right back to work on some academics. Not a bad birthday, I am pretty sure I have seen worse.

Even though I am in this place I still feel truly blessed. I am living out a childhood dream of flying helicopters. I walked down the flight line this morning and a huge smile came across my face and my heart started to race. I couldn’t believe I was flying helicopters in the MEDEVAC mission. I love this job!

Don’t get me wrong though. I feel like I am torn between two loves. I miss my civilian job back home as well.

I think the only way that I am able to count being in a war as a blessing is that I have such great support from those who I am close to. I have had no shortage of packages sent my way, which I promptly share with my soldiers. I have had no shortage of birthday e-mails and well wishes sent in my direction. I have rarely wanted anything that hasn’t been readily available (other than more flight time…DOH!). On this day and through the last year of my life I have been truly blessed and I hope that I shared those blessings with those I am close too.

I have a great family whose quirkiness is an awkward but my most pleasant blessing. I come from two great home towns full of great people whose potential is immeasurable and often used to its extent. I come from two home states that are by far the most beautiful places on Earth not only because of the geography but because of the people who inhabit it. I have a great group of friends that is much larger than I deserve and often too big for me to handle the way I want to.

Sigh.

Now I feel like I am bragging so I’ll stop with the teary eyed lament and just say “Thank you.”

Thank you.

Oh by the way. I share this day with one of Victoria’s oldest members. My Grandmother Irene Nelson who has been tearing up the streets long before they were paved and still does as I remember.

Happy Birthday Mom (7 Oct) and Granny (14 Oct).

The mustache is way thicker now!
and the hair is growing back. ;-)

How can this be war? I guess I am just more separated from it than the real heroes. Given the standard Army field problem this place is a palace. Actually, it’s not that exciting. My room is small but larger than other rooms around. My office is finally clean from the last crew that left it. Our little area is much better than our battalion’s area. All in all I can’t understand how this can be war.

BOOM!

And the all the insurgents celebrate their evening meal after fasting all day during their holiday of Ramadan.

Then it all becomes apparent.

BOOM!

Not eating all day makes insurgents want to blow things up. DOH!
Fortunately for me the US has an excellent return policy. If we don’t like we’ll give it back to you plus some. Isn’t that a deal! Not even Wal-Mart has a return policy like that! The only down side to that is that you might not get what you ordered but you will get something just as good and plenty of it! WOOHOOO!

Thump………………………boom.

Thump……………………….boom.

Thump……………………….boom.

Odd as it is, this is war, though it’s hard to contemplate being so far removed from the real work that is going on. I say that I am so far removed but I guess in actuality I visit the result of angry religious fanatics on a weekly basis doing what I do.
So far I have seen the results of IEDs, vehicle rollovers, shootings, allergic reactions and other desert ailments. If the insurgents don’t get you, you will undoubtedly either get yourself or the desert will get you. So yeah I guess this is war or whatever the politicians want to call it.

I have made this place my home for the time being. Quite possibly the most unusual home I have ever had minus the small, but wonderful, town of Port O’ Connor, which by the way I am really missing right now.

BOOM! Believe it or not… there’s one now!
BOOM! Crap, another one.
BOOM! Okay, okay I’ll bite. Be right back.

Okay so that was really nothing according to that voice in the sky that keeps us posted on such events. It’s kind of like the show MASH except no comedy relief.

Back to the story. So this is home for at least a period of time. Not too shabby here really. We have an abbreviated mess hall, a gym, a coffee shop that we run plus everything we need to do our mission. Can’t ask for more than that, can you? Well you could and it never hurts to do so but there are just some things that the USPS won’t deliver. Such is life said the soldier as he picked up his MOLLE (/Molly/) and Rifle.

The flying is much better here then down south outside Iraq. I would like to tell you that there is more contrast but in order to have "contrast" you must have either a color change or scenery and color change. Neither of which happen regularly. All the houses look the same and it’s only at night that things become clearer. Another oddity of this place is it sort of looks like Colorado minus its mountainous terrain to the West.

The country side here is very beautiful. Honestly, if I was an adventurous man and there were no religious fanatics wanting to kill anyone with different color skin I wouldn’t mind having a small farm here a vineyard maybe or an orchard. This environment is an excellent place to test new technologies that are earth friendly. The people of Iraq already have a good start on things with their mud brick homes and their irrigation techniques. I really am quite impressed.

When you move in to the more populated areas things don’t really change that much. The houses are relatively the same architecture some may even still be made of mud brick. Further into the cities the architecture seems to remain except for the Mosque. Which by the way (1) we never fly over unless it’s an emergency (2) there are nearly impossible to avoid even from the air. If you have ever flown in the south, particularly the Alabama area, Mosques are like churches, there is one on every corner.

All in all a very unique land this is. I have had no opportunity to interact with the local populace, even though some of them have been a few feet away in the back of my aircraft. I sincerely hope that one day Iraq will be peaceful and that its people will learn to put their religious fanaticism aside and realize that they have a jewel in the rough that cannot be polished unless they all chip in.