Freddy Krueger

I am like Freddy Krueger. No, I am not a burned up child molester who stalks and murders children in their nightmares. But I do have very long, very sharp fingernails that slice through flesh like it's their job.

The toilet trailers at Camp Virginia are separate from the showers. They have one toilet and one sink inside them. The have no air conditioning. To enter one in the middle of the day is to take your life into your own hands. No joke. If I spend longer than 60 seconds in there, I come out with sweat rolling out of my hair line and my life has flashed before my eyes. On top of the unbearable heat, they smell funky.

And I realize that "funky" is a very broad description for a bathroom smell. I've been trying to pin point the odor since I came to Camp Virginia and I think I've finally narrowed it down. It's a delicate blend of moth balls and urine.

So, back to the Freddy Krueger comment... I was brushing my teeth in that bathroom death trap one morning, it was already at least 110 degrees, and I was refusing to breathe through my nose. Have you ever tried brushing your teeth with your mouth wide open? I was drooling, I was sweating and my nose was running: there was snot everywhere. Long story short, I blew my nose. And with my Freddy Krueger fingernails, I sliced the sensitive skin between my nostrils and my upper lip like a knife through butter, or like a glove of knives through flesh.

It hurt. It was the worst teeth brushing experience I've ever had.

Kuwait Detail

Camp Virginia, Kuwait, is yucky. It's just not right how hot it is. People shouldn't live here. 140 degrees just isn't right! I don't function in this kind of heat.

SPC Buckley and I have been working in the aid station at night. We have been pulling 12 hours of sick call every night. The term "work" is used pretty loosely, though. What really is happening is that we are physically in a building that could potentially cause us to work. We see maybe 3 patients and the rest of the time we are racked out on the waiting room couches watching movies and talking shit to each other. It's really not a bad gig.

There have been a few mildly interesting things to do. There was a rad infected toe nail removal that I snapped some pics of.

Before.

After. Eeew.

But (of course there is a down side, this is the Army, after all), since we are at work all night, we have to sleep all day. It's so hot outside that our poor 50 year old air conditioner can't keep up with the work load. It's possible our tent is going through menopause. It has hot flashes through out the day that make us feel like bacon frying in a pan in a matter of seconds. The air conditioner makes a grunting-complaining noise that warns us the heat wave is on it's way, and after 5 minutes or so of cooking us alive in the intense stale heat of the middle of the day, the air conditioner groans awake again and starts cooling us off.

It's absolutely miserable to sleep in a bitchy tent.

Oral Fluids

This is the scariest and one of the most peculiar signs I have ever seen Army personnel post.

It's so open ended. Why would "oral fluids" have to be specified? What else do you spit? Immediately I questioned if someone spit anal or vaginal fluids into the trash. The sign really bothered me for a few days.

Was spitting the problem? Is vomiting into the trash allowed? Drooling?

Or was it the substance being spat that was the problem? Can I spit food into the trash? How about chewing tobacco? More vomit? Poo?

Like every other warning out there, it had to be done by someone in order to inspire the warning. I wish I had the back story.

It's Like The Beach-- But Not

Well, I'm settled in at Camp Virginia, Kuwait now. The redeployment process has begun and I'm here with SPC Buckley and MAJ Roberts to assist with the medical mission while the rest of my medical company goes home to Fort Lewis, Washington.

Camp Virginia is a small little base in the middle of no where, with nothing around it, and nothing to do while on it. There is nothing but sand with the occasional sand colored building to break up the horizon. MAJ Roberts put it just right when he said, "It's like the beach-- but not."

The tent I'm living in now is not haunted. So that's a definite plus from the transient tent I just came from at Victory Base Camp. And I have a real mattress in a real bed frame, which was totally unexpected. I'm trying not to think about how many different people have slept on these mattresses. I put a mattress condom over my bed so there would be no chance of skin on AIDS-infested-mattress contact.

The Navy is everywhere here. It always blows my mind when I see Navy people doing things that do not involve boats and water. I know there is a lot more to the Navy than that, but they just seem like fish out of water here in the middle of the desert. Camp Virginia also has a lot of Army National Guard and Army Reserves. Active Duty Army looks down on those part timers. We both may have US ARMY on our chests, but we are very very different organizations. We know we're the real Soldiers with the real mission. People here walk around without their weapons. Apparently they turn them in once they get here. So it's really strange to be the only people in the chow hall packing heat. It makes us look like Special Forces bad asses who've been places and seen stuff. It sets us apart-- in a good way.

Shitty Artwork

In just 3 short days I will say good-bye to Camp Taji, Iraq and (hopefully) never see it again in this lifetime. I walked around and got some last minute photos of some of the awful artwork around the base. I wonder what shitty paintings I'll come across in Kuwait? The possibilities are endless.

Cheers, Camp Taji!