July 2007 Archives

Always trust a Russian Pilot: Or, How I arrived in Dubai today.

Leaving Iraq is always a bit of a hair-raising experience. Not that any contractor I know here would admit that to you. In fact, it's a bit remarkable that I am admitting that here in this record for your review.

Whether the problems are with the risk of abduction from the Baghdad International Airport*, or the risk of being shot (or worse) while waiting for your plane, the fact of the matter is that there is always more danger there than anywhere else that we might happen to be during the transition process in and out of country.

Don't get me wrong. Baghdad International Airport has come a long way, and photos that I posted here over three years ago would not be possible today due to the throngs of passengers coming and going. While the facility is small, it remains a very busy hub for enterprising Iraqis and foreigners interested in jump-starting the Iraqi economy despite the insurgency.

Processing through is the part of your flight experience, which you inevitably come to expect will be the most potentially stressful part of the trip out of theater. Of course fate may decide to insert something a bit more interesting for you to ponder on the way home.

Always trust a Russian pilot. I have come to know and believe this maxim well in my numerous flights in and out of Iraq. The vast majority of pilots who fly the charters we take happen to be or Russian or Eastern European descent, and while not necessarily the same stock, based on their age it can only be assumed that most of them were trained by the Soviet Air Force or Aeroflot.

Today was a wonderful case in point. We were on final approach to Dubai International Airport, and perhaps 100 feet off the ground, drifting downward to the runway when the pilot aborted the landing. He flew a weaving pattern over the airport as though trying to assert his control over the airplane and through no small amount of skill managed to get us back up in the air and making a new approach.

Some might think that the aborted landing was no big deal. I've been on planes when the pilot aborted before, but this was different. The plane obviously had a problem. The entire time we were passing over the airport the pilot was weaving the plane back and forth as though the controls were stiff or stuck.

I was quite concerned that the mortar that missed me the night before would get a second chance in the form of an aircraft not being able to safely land.

Approximately 20 minutes later, after the pilot flew a figure eight pattern over the city we were back on approach, landing on a different runway. I’m still not sure what happened, but the pilot was being debriefed by Airport Security, Safety, and the Police when I de-planed.

Always trust a Russian pilot.

*Apparently this has become a problem lately as Airport Security mentioned it in the arrival brief we receive when we pass through.

'Twas the night before R&R...

At the moment I'm sitting in my room. As I type this, I know it won't be posted to my blog until at least two days from now. I'm mostly packed, and ready to go on my final R&R. My next trip home will be my last from this project, unless my employer calls me back. I have already mentioned that I'm not coming back on via direct application. Four years is a lot of life to give, especially at the rate of 84 hours worked per week.

However, my impending resignation is not the cause of this post. In fact, but for the events of the last few minutes, I would not be typing this post at all.

Watch a news report, listen to the ramblings of the anti-war crowd and you will arrive most directly at the conclusion that Iraq is an extremely dangerous place. I won't dispute that. I don't think I've ever made the statement that it was safer here than anywhere else, except perhaps the highways and interstates of the United States. After all, I've known more people working here who have died in car accidents on R&R than I have known who were killed in any other fashion here in the war-torn country of Iraq - Mesopotamia for those of you reading the New York Times.

But Iraq has its moments - moments in which I am not fearful for myself, but for the lives of those who work for and with me. Thirty minutes ago I had such a moment. I had finished packing and I was watching an episode of Scrubs on DVD when the deadly sound of incoming shrieked in my ears. A few hundred feet from the place I lay my head, a mortar round impacted. Fortunately, as is generally the case with IDF (indirect fire) attacks, the insurgent who launched the mortar hit nothing. However, for a time, while I waited for information on where the impact may have been, I worried.

I have 20 personnel working on my staff, and I view myself as personally responsible for ensuring they make it home as safely as possible while they work for me.

A few short minutes can be an eternity when you are waiting to find out about the health and safety of the personnel to and for whom you are answerable.

Everyone was okay, and tomorrow morning I board a plane homeward bound. For a couple of welcome weeks I will try and distance my mind from Iraq and the uncertainty of our lives here, with luck my flights home will be less eventful than tonight has been.

Just Bricks in the Wall

Chess Game I

Chicago - Fire Escape

2007 07 11 No Title

Move Along, Nothing to See Here...

2007 07 05 Sunrise

Anaconda By Night - Redux

Timmy the Prodigal Monkey

Recently, I acquired a pet monkey from thinkgeek.com and it seems that monkey has gone missing. When I returned to the office a while ago I noticed that he was missing, and assuming that one of my people was messing with me, I immediately bought another. Well, it would appear that I was incorrect and timmy decided that he had to do for himself what I had been failing to do.

I had specifically bought him as a focus item for some fun and lighthearted photography which was intended to provide a "garden gnome" element to my site.

Apparently he has spirited away with a small low quality digital camera and is exploring the world on his own.

WELL!!! Let me tell ya the BIG world is not only out there...it is OUT THERE!!!! From chess wiht the boys in the heat to trying to find a cool place to sleep. And boy do I stink!!! I had to find the washing machine and was in turn directed to this facility kwhere they wash your clothes for you. What a deal that is, no wonder you like it here in the OUT THERE. Here is a picture of my laundry being weighed (minus me of course).

Just wanted you to know that I am doing fine and wiht clean clothes. hey, tell me about this "wire" and being "outside". I hear its pretty exciting, but is it a wire that shocks you? Will it hurt? Do I need any type of "gear"? Well I am off to do some research about this whole "wire" thing.

timmy