A C-130 cannot make the entire trip at one time. We don't have the "legs" to get here, meaning we can't carry enough fuel with the cargo load we had coming from Europe. So we stop on the beautiful Isle of Crete. It really is spectacular. Crete is usually the last beautiful thing that C-130 crews see going into the desert and it's the first sign that your on your way home:) Sometimes you crew rest and sometimes you don't. It was just nice to finally have the sunshine and some heat!!! The Navy kindly gassed us and everyone went into the little shoppette and got a gyro. Me being the faithful engineer who watches over my sweet machine, I stayed out to make sure she'd be ready to go because we had no time to spare in our duty day.
That's when a funny thing happened....Someone took a crap on my deployment. One of our Tactics Officers came back out to the plane and was proceeding to make himself comfortable in the cockpit (he flew the first leg so the next one belonged to our actual copilot) when he saw what was in my shopping bag......Flags! That.s right, five of the finest Old Glories you've ever laid your eyes on (not really, but it's all the store had). Why would someone buy five US flags?
Everyday we get up and do what we do there are a group of our loved ones, friends, neighbors, and organizations in our communities that make it all possible for us to do it with a clear mind. They look after our families needs, they lend help where our spouses/significant others need it and often show us a respect and gratitude when they see us in our uniforms (it really is humbling). We can't possibly say thank you enough for taking care of our families. Also, groups, like the Vietnam Veterans of America Chapter in Meadville, Pennsylvania (I love those guys), take care of veterans when no one else will. So for them, we fly flags during our combat missions and then present them with the flag and a certificate signed by the crew that this flag flew on aircraft tail # such and such in support of Operation Enduring Freedom Combined Joint Task Force Horn of Africa (I know it's a mouthful).
It's always the same. There's a guy who wants to tell you what you already know. He's an officer so he thinks he's privy to info that you aren't. I've been in 23 years and I've flown for 16. I've seen a lot of things go wrong and know what it takes to get where we're going. But I have to listen to people like this tell me stuff or tell me I'm wrong (remind me later to tell you how "wrong" I was) and I want to rip their heads off....not figuratively speaking...really!! So, he's sitting on the bunk going, "really, your going to fly a flag for these missions?" He acted like there was no reason to fly them or present them to people because you only do that in the Stan or Iraq. We're supporting the troops here on the Horn. There are undisputed terrorist states bordering us on all sides . Without divulging classified info C -130's have been attacked and we could be shot down. If those were ingredients for a mixed drink, I'd name the drink the Combat Zone!!! What a frickin' idiot. There's always one guy who didn't get the memo and shows up to the party in a costume (in this case a donkey).
It didn't take long for someone to soothe my ruffled feathers. As the sun was setting over the endless desert and we glided over the Red Sea at 19,000 feet, the "Nav" pulls out the Satellite phone. One word: Awesome!! Once he connected the 50000 cables (seriously people they couldn't have fracked it up any worse) we were off. It's funny because you always see a guy holding a single phone in the movies... Obviously he wasn't dumb enough to fall for this contract suppliers product. It was a goat rope to get started, but once we figured out how to dial...prank calls anyone?
Unfortunately I could not reach my sweet Bee, she must have been running around the office with her hair on fire (she's pretty busy these days supporting me:). So why not try the parents? I dial their number and it rings. Dad picks it up and we're shouting at each other "can you hear me?" It seems that the noise of the aircraft makes us faint to the party on the other line. So, he says, "I can't hear you you'll have to call back." NOOOOOOO!!!! My dad hangs up on me 7000 miles away. WTF?!? So dial him back and we finally can hear each other somewhat (I was still hard to hear for him) and I start a conversation with familiarities between a father and son when he says, "I'm sorry, but who is this?" He laughed when I told him it was me because he thought I was someone from a government agency giving him a telemarketing call because the caller ID read US Government Hawaii. My mom got a kick out of being called from a plane; I'm glad I could make her day (Love you MOM:)
Finally, we arrived in Djibouti. On the approach our Tactics guy calls the air operations center and they inform us we have to park on the civie side, shutdown and offload our ammo. Now I know the Navy has some fracked up policies, but there had to have been a reason. But Tactics Man tells them we're carrying the owner of the ammo further so can we just leave it on. I said the Navy probably wants to store it elsewhere and he just looks at me like the adoring father whose five year old told him not to take a left....down a one way street. Well, we park and shutdown and they want us to start up, taxi across to the civie side, shutdown, offload, startup and taxi back to the military side of the house. Frack me can the day get any longer? I knew this would happen. Then someone came to their senses seeing that we shutdown and a crew was there to offload us they just removed the ammo and we ended the day. The funny thing was Tactics Man said, "well our flight duty period just ended anyway so we can't!" Well, if the HMFIC(Head Mother Fracker in Charge), which would be a rear admiral, doesn't want explosives on his ramp, you damn well will move them. That's where that two hour waiver for mission accomplishment comes in. Oh well, I've dealt with this before. I can retire anytime I want:)
I was uncomfortable with the idea of not staying on the base; after all there are really bad people around here. Not all bad, but it's so poor that they'll do anything to survive (wouldn't you?). On base you have your hut, the gym.....the chow hall.. Yeah Baby!!! None of us who have been here before had ever stayed off so we were wondering what the hell to expect: Opulence. Not that it's saying much, we're staying in the most exquisite hotel in the entire country. It actually is sickening. You have to drive through rough streets where there are rough people high on Khot (an opiate I believe). Packs of wild dogs everywhere; we saw a pack of 20 or so!!! Poverty that would make a shanty town under a New York city bridge look like a gated community.
We did grab a bite at the chow hall last night. Nothing like midnight chow!!!!! I walked in and promptly shoveled two chicken breasts, mashed potatoes, ravioli, and rice in a to go box. Then grabbed two sodas, two low fat milk, two cups of Cocoa Crispies and shoved all of those items in every pocket of my flight suit. Eat like there's no tomorrow because you might not eat tomorrow, but tomorrow will come. I took enough stuff to sustain myself in the room for the 24 hours I'd be in here. I am not getting the shits!!!! That is miserable because you still have to do your job. Ever try and use the bathroom while flying low-level in turbulence? I haven't either, but I've heard the stories. I'm scared straight:) When I show back up at O' dark-thirty tomorrow, I'm going for more Coca Crispies!!!
Time to go to sleep. It's in the early afternoon, suns up and it's over a hundred, but we start early tomorrow.
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