Travel, Again

I’m going on another conference which means more travel. Unlike the last conference, this time I am going all the way back to the United States. Getting there and back will of course require moving through the Theater of Pain that is intra-theater travel. I heard about this conference a while ago and didn’t think MNF-I needed to go. Further meetings and video teleconferences proved otherwise. Still, upper management hemmed and hawed about whether or not to send me. It wasn’t until some very senior people got involved that the decision was made. Unfortunately for me, the late decision meant being behind the eight ball with respect to travel plans.

After getting my orders approved, I attempted to get someone to purchase my commercial airline tickets. I was on the phone for several hours talking to a series of Liaison Officers, which are referred colloquially here as LNOs. LNOs are supposed to act as representatives of their units while embedded with another. They rarely are useful; metaphorically, they are given a top hat and cane and dance their way through the day with just enough information to be dangerous while exercising little or no true authority. SATO, the official government travel agency, kept telling me I had to submit my travel request via my Navy LNO but they didn’t know who that might be. I got a number and called that. The person who answered referred me to another and that person to another. Tap dancing. Finally one just suggested I get down to Ali as Salem Air Base, the base I previously travelled through in May to go on R&R, and meet in person with the SATO reps there.

For my last TDY, I stuffed everything into a large backpack but for this one I need a suitcase. I have a venerable (read, old) rolling suitcase I bought for my initial post-9/11 deployment. I figured it would be easier to roll than carry on this trip. Of course, walking anywhere in Iraq involves traversing large areas of unpaved ground, usually strewn with rocks. The first patch I encountered was just 100 meters from my trailer in the IZ. Just this once, I decided to slog through it and wouldn’t you know, the damn right wheel came off its axel. For the rest of the walk to the helicopter pad near the Embassy, the right wheel locked and slowly ground down from the friction of being dragged across pavement. Not an auspicious start to the trip.

At least the brief helicopter trip to BIAP was pleasant; along the way, the two helicopters paused at the famous Crossed Swords monument and hovered facing each other to take pictures. I leaned my camera across to the far window and got the attached photo.