The Feast of St. Ignatius

Two years ago today, then-SFC McG and I left Summer Camp - South by van on our way to Iraq. We were up at zero-dark-thirty in order to be ready for our pick-up (which was late), and then had an eight-hour ride to the airport, an eight-hour stay at the airport, an eight-hour plane ride followed by a several-hour layover, and another four-hour plane ride before we got to Kuwait.

Fortunately for all concerned, then-SFC McG was a miracle-worker, and we left Kuwait for Iraq only 14 hours after we'd arrived -- avoiding the stay at the much-dreaded Camp Buehring altogether. Hooray!

Today I have a small get-together with friends from high school and college at my parents' place, as they get ready to move south to be nearer my brother-in-law and sister.

When I look back over the past thirty-one 31sts of July, it's pretty amazing to reflect upon the many and varied places I've been in the U.S. and outside the country as I've observed the feast of the founder of the Society of Jesus.

I sure am glad to be back in the States this year!

Blessings and peace to one and all,

Fr. Tim, SJ

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The comforts of home....

After being gone, effectively, for twenty-five months, it's really great to be back in the States and able to wear civilian clothes. There *is* something to be said for not having to ask, any time I change my attire, "Will this make me look fat?"

When wearing the Army Combat Uniform (ACUs), I know it will!

I'd brought along civvies with me to Iraq, and to Kosovo, but had almost no opportunity to wear them, seeing as the edict from 'on high' came down that only Army uniforms could be worn. This was as true while we were training in the States as it was Down Range.

(This, of couse, assumes the willing suspension of disbelief necessary to see Kosovo as being "Down Range" in any real sense....

Unfortunately for me, as regards my haberdashery, however, since the Jesuits gave away my room while I was away and all the rest of my civilian clothes are locked away in cold storage, it's going to be a while before I have any real clothing options to choose from. I'll make the best of it, though!

Blessings and peace to one and all,


Fr. Tim, SJ

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Worth a thousand words

20 July 2010

'Nuff said!

Blessings and peace to one and all,


Fr. Tim, SJ

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Change

There was a song from the mid-80s that I liked (lyrics by Bernard Ighner, though I can't remember who the female vocalist was) which came to mind as my plane landed in California after being released from the demobilization process in Indiana:

Everything must change
Nothing stays the same
Everyone must change
No one stays the same

The young become the old
And mysteries do unfold
Cause that's the way of time
Nothing and no one goes unchanged

It's a very evocative, lyrical piece, as I remember it. Suffused with sadness and not a little regret, the song conveys a message of hope, which is probably why I liked it the first time I heard it.

I was reminded of that song as my plane was taxiing to the jetway at the San Jose Airport. The first time I flew in there, in 1990, the place was a veritable 'Hooterville' -- and the first time I'd ever seen or used "skystairs" to disembark an aircraft.

Eventually another terminal was built, so that there were both the "A" terminal (the new one) and the "C" terminal. I guess they had plans to build a "B" terminal, but over the course of the next 15 years, it never materialized.

I began referring to it, almost immediately, as the "D-minus" terminal. "C" was far too generous a grade!

Imagine my surprise, then, upon landing and seeing that the "C" terminal has been razed, and both the new International and "B" terminals (I guess) are open for business. Moreover, there's now a huge new, multi-story parking structure, and bridges and tunnels that didn't exist a few years ago.

The place actually looks like a real airport now.

Who knew?

Everything must change....

Blessings and peace to one and all,


Fr. Tim, SJ

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To sleep--perchance to dream

I've not mastered the art of sleeping in a barracks.

This is probably due to the fact that I joined the Army at such an advanced age (some would call it my "dotage"), and since that time not quite four years ago, I've been fortunate not to have to endure that trial very often.

Don't get me wrong -- I love my Soldiers and am glad to spend time with them and to do whatever they have to do. The ministry of presence which we Army Chaplains perform seems to help Soldiers significantly, and I'm honored to be able to do it.

But after 30 years of living on my own, essentially -- with my own room all to myself, however small a space that might be -- I've still not managed to accustom myself to multiple occupancy.

While I was on the Iraq mission, I shared a room with then-SFC McG for a month as we were training up, and a few days as we went through DEMOB. That wasn't *too* bad, though it did take some getting used to, and I didn't sleep all that well. Once in Iraq, I shared my hooch with another Chaplain for three weeks upon arrival, and then with my boss Chaplain for two weeks before he left country to return to the U.S.A.

Not my idea of a great time, but I managed.

But the lead-up to my Kosovo mission was something else. The first three weeks saw seven other people in the room. Then in the Midwest, there were eighteen others. Finally, in Germany, there were thirty-one. I basically did not get a good night's sleep for three months.

Sigh.

One of the best parts about being home is that I'll have space to myself at night!

Now, if I can only get my sleep cycle to correspond with the time zone I'm in....

Blessings and peace to one and all,


Fr. Tim, SJ

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There's no place like home

I arrived home in California last night!

Many thanks to the California Guard Chaplain and his wife and children, along with six members of the California State Military Reserve Chaplaincy, who met me at the airport! My friend Mary, representing friends from church, was there as well.

I'm especially grateful to Top, the first First Sergeant who attempted to square me away upon my joining the Army, who collected me and my gear at the airport. I was glad that he could go with me to Elaine's house, where Elaine had made her spectacular grilled cheese sandwiches for the two of us and my good friend Elizabeth, who joined us there.

There's no place like home!

Gratias tibi Domine.

Blessings and peace to one and all,


Fr. Tim, SJ

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Parting Shots

The Unit Ministry Teams of KFOR-12 (and I) welcomed our replacements enthusiastically a couple of weeks ago. Shortly before four of the five of us flew out of here on our way home, we all gathered for a group photo. (One of the incoming Chaplain Assistants was ill, and is not pictured.)

The Chaplains and Chaplain Assistants from KFOR-12 are to the left of the photo, while KFOR-13 UMTs are on the right.

Afterward, one of our Chaplains and and one of the Chaplain Assistants demonstrated why people from non-liturgical religious traditions should not attempt liturgical dance.

Or something.

Blessings and peace to one and all,


Fr. Tim, SJ

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Parting Gifts

I've mentioned my buddies from the Ukrainian Army in previous blog posts. One of those guys, MSG S, speaks English quite well, while most of his comrades speak no English at all. MSG S and a couple of the Officers in his unit (plus one other Sergeant) came twice a week to the on-Post English classes which were coordinated by the Aviation Battalion, and which I took over once I arrived on scene with them (after my Battalion left).

Quite a number of times I wound up meeting with MSG S outside of class, because he was so intent upon learning as much English as he could, as well as he could.

Not long before I left for home, MSG S brought his Company Commander to my room, and we sat around and chatted for a couple of hours. (Actually, MSG S did most of the talking, as his Commander felt insecure about his command of English. I encouraged him to take the risk of making mistakes, since that's the best way to master a foreign language, at least in my experience.)

Several times MSG S came over at night to watch a movie with me. I gave him the "com" (the remote) so he could stop the movie whenever he felt the need to ask for clarification. I'd often tell him to stop it so I could explain some idiomatic phrase or other. Those evenings were quite enjoyable.

Several times he'd show up and have one of his young Soldiers with him, who'd watch the movie with us, but without understanding the language. So MSG S would hit "pause" every so often, just to make sure his friend knew the subtleties of what was going on.

This of course presumes that a movie such as "Lara Croft: Tomb Raider" *has* subtleties....

The night I was *supposed* to begin the journey home at 0200, MSG S and his friend knocked at my door. I'd already given away the TV and DVD player (to him! along with a sleeping bag, some DVDs, a teapot, and some other stuff), so I was surprised to see them. They said they weren't going to stay, but that they had the young Sergeant had something for me.

They're all part of the Ukrainian Army Airborne Corps, and SGT B had sewn me a flag that their Airborne troops all fly. On top of their having given me a complete Ukrainian Army Paratrooper's uniform (replete with my name sewn on it, as well as Captain's rank), this was a very generous and thoughtful gesture on their part.

I can't wait to display it in my new office when I start work at the end of my terminal leave!

Blessings and peace to one and all,


Fr. Tim, SJ

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DEMOB

It had been raining not long before we arrived back at Summer Camp - North, but while our gear was being off-loaded and collected, the rains abated. My duffel bag and ruck sack managed to get a pretty good coating of mud in the process, but that's just par for the course.

The beds in this place are still as hammock-y as they were last summer, but I was grateful to snag a lower bunk this time. (With my knees as sore as they've been for the past few months, I was grateful not to have to clamber up to a top bunk.) My back rebelled against the lack of support, but I was counting on it being only for a few days, so I tried not to dwell on how uncomfortable I was.

After all, this was a *lot* better in terms of living conditions than they once were, and could just as well have been. It was *so* good to be Stateside!!

We had to report for the loathsome out-processing briefings at 0700, so I showed up at the DFAC for breakfast at 0615. I figured I was doing pretty well, given that I hadn't often even eaten breakfast while in Iraq or in Kosovo.

I saw a few of my Aviation buddies in the DFAC. They were dressed in civilian attire, and ready to board the buses home to Kentucky. I felt sad that I'd not be able to wish them all well as they left for home (finally!), because I had to attend briefings at the times their buses were leaving.

Oh well.

Our briefings (finance, VA, JAG -- I can't even remember them all at this point!) droned on and on and on, until it was time for lunch. I was able to meet up with a friend of mine who had been on med hold there at Summer Camp - North for a couple of weeks before we arrived, and I took him to lunch at the All-Ranks Club. (A bit pricey, but it was nice to be eating anything back home in the U.S. of A!)

My friend has recently become someone who goes to a lot of AA meetings, and it was a relief to be back in the presence of folks like him! I learned that he had some friends he wanted to introduce to me, so that sounded like fun, too.

The briefings resumed and consumed most of the afternoon and early evening. Truth be told, there was some interesting and important information put forward, and I'll be taking some of the stuff from the Veterans Administration back to give to my Dad, who's a Korean-War-era Army veteran.

Demobilization (DEMOB) involves a lot of hurry-up-and-wait, but if I remember to breathe, I've found (both at Summer Camp - South, after Iraq, and now here) that what needs to get done gets done according to a rhythm and timetable other than my own, and I have a much better time if I just go with the flow.

Of course, if it weren't 'sauna time', it would seem to flow a lot better, I'd bet! It has been ghastly hot and humid since we arrived.

Blessings and peace to one and all,


Fr. Tim, SJ

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Exodus

The airport from which we were to fly home is not really set up to handle large crowds efficiently (or even medium-sized groups, for that matter). The "sterile" area has seating for about sixty people; we were about 100 more than that.

I waited in the outer waiting area as long as I could. There are about 120 seats there.

(How do you spell "bottleneck"?)

Not only were we not permitted to take liquids onto the plane, we couldn't even bring fresh fruit from the DFAC with us. My orange was impounded, much to my chagrin. They missed the fact that my trail mix was not in an unopened, factory-packed condition (I'd made it myself), so at least I got to keep it with me, and nosh on it over the course of the next 18 hours or so.

The final wait for the plane seemed interminable, but we actually got underway not too long after the 1330 time we'd been briefed earlier that morning. Because the aircraft was smaller than originally projected (the repairs on the one we should have been flying on had not been completed, so we were sent a different airframe altogether), we were somewhat more squeezed for space on board the plane, and there was a rumor that we might have to make two -- or perhaps three -- stops on our way to the States.

The first leg of the flight took us only as far as Leipzig, Germany. This is becoming somewhat familiar to me, as I've stopped there on my way to and from Iraq, and now on the way home from Kosovo. The layover of two hours just about matched the amount of time it had taken us to get there.

Back on the plane, it was a relief (and a bit of a downer) to hear that we were flying non-stop to Indianapolis. At least we'd be Stateside when we next touched down, but the bummer was that the flight would be 9.5 hours long.

Oy.

My arthritic knees don't do well in confined spaces for extended lengths of time.

But at least we were almost back!

I tried to sleep, but seeing as about the only time I can sleep in a moving vehicle is if I'm driving, I wound up watching the four movies they had to offer.

The food which was served was actually very tasty. (Why can't U.S.-based carriers do at least as well??)

I called my parents at 202113JUL10 (9:13 p.m., 20 July 2010) as we landed at the Indianapolis airport.

By the time I got to bed that night, it was already 0030 the next morning.

But at least we were back in the States!

Blessings and peace to one and all,


Fr. Tim, SJ

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All Aboard!

We wound up having to collect all our gear (after it had been inspected by Customs agents, loaded onto trucks, and locked up, starting at 0200) on Monday morning, since the plane we were scheduled to board had reported mechanical trouble and was supposedly being serviced in some other country. Sigh.

It had been a long, sleepless night, and I'd thrown the key to my (single) room through the window of the very nice person who'd let me stay in my billet after the rest of the Mustangs had left. Fortunately, a kind and generous Senior NCO invited me to use one of the beds in the room he'd been occupying, so I was able to stow my stuff, get some food, and attempt some shut-eye later in the day.

I'd not had to walk to the truck with my gear (two of the Chaplain Assistants came to pick me up in the van), but the distance from my room to the road did a number on my knees, none the less! However, my temporary lodging in Mid Town was about twice as far from the truck than I'd had to walk, so it was a project to schlep my duffel bag, ruck sack, and day pack to that room and back!

Friends of mine who go to a lot of AA meetings talk about how they "trudge the road of happy destiny," but I suspect they have something altogether different in mind.

It was great to be able to see my Ukrainian Army friends one more time, and to see how they'd set up the TV and DVD player I'd bequeathed them. They live six men to a room, so I had it really easy, what with being alone in half the space they had!

We were given something of a reprieve, in that we didn't have to report again (with all our gear, of course) until 0615, rather than at 0200. I got there at 0545, and was amazed at how many others had gotten there before me.

I guess a lot of us were really ready to go home!

The Customs inspection went very, very smoothly, and all the bags got loaded on the trucks rather expeditiously. Then it was a matter of waiting around to board the buses for the hour-long trip to the airport. Fortunately, we got underway without much ado, and were off to the airport.

More later!

Blessings and peace to one and all,


Fr. Tim, SJ

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CONUS

Well, if all had gone as planned, I'd have been back in the States a couple of days already at this point.

CONUS, in Army-speak.

That's "CONtinental United States" for everyone else.

I'm still not sure how to use the acronym in a sentence, because it seems as though it ought to take a definite article ("the CONUS"). I've never heard that phrase used, however.

In any event, after more than two years of being mobilized/deployed, and after having watched the two units for whom I served as Chaplain leave ahead of me, I was really looking forward to being back in the States according to schedule!

However, this is the Army, and as I'd been telling people rather consistently, "just stay in the present moment -- don't live in a future that may never happen."

It seems the plane which was originally scheduled to have picked us up developed some sort of mechanical problem, and had to land in a country other than Kosovo for repairs.

We found this out after having schlepped our bags to the staging area (for me, this was at some significant distance, and my duffel, ruck, and day pack weighed over 140 pounds -- *that* did a number on my knees and left ankle as I was-- very slowly -- making my way across the ever-present gravel!) at 0200, enduring the Customs inspection which started at 0300, being told we were "on hold" at 0400, and finally having been apprised at 0545 that we'd have to collect our luggage and repeat the drill 24 hours later.

Sigh.

We later learned that the delay would be an additional 4.5 hours longer than that.

It was a *huge* disappointment to me that all this meant I wouldn't be able to see my Aviators one more time before they departed for New York, Kentucky, Virginia, and South Carolina.

Powerlessness.

But it is what it is, and by not having dwelt in a future which can now never happen, I seemed not to have experienced as much Angst as some of those around me who'd approached the situation differently.

I guess my friends who go to a lot of those AA and Al-Anon meetings are on to something, because they've been telling me, for three decades now (one day at a time), that I might just want to try living in the moment....

No matter what it took to get here, it's good to be CONUS!

Even if I'm not quite home yet.

Blessings and peace to one and all,


Fr. Tim, SJ

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Flight time wrap-up

I had less than a third of the missions via air here in Kosovo than I did in Iraq, and most of the missions I flew here were simply TF AVN taskings, and didn't have anything directly to do with Religious Support Operations.

(One could make the case, none the less, that since one of the missions of Army Chaplains is a 'ministry of presence', I was conducting that mission each time I flew. That might be stretching it, however.)

Ever since coming into the Army, and especially once I took my first ride on a Blackhawk (as terrified as I felt that day in Iraq), I'd wanted to work with an Aviation unit. Now that I had the opportunity, I thought I'd avail myself of every chance I got to be with Aviators as they did what Aviators do.

Before the 25MAY10, I'd never used night vision goggles before, as I may have mentioned. Now that my flying with TF Aviation is over, I've logged 31.8 hours of NVG time. Not bad for six weeks, eh?

Moreover, I've got a total of 41.1 hours of daylight flying (some of which probably could count as "night, unaided", but I decided not to differentiate, seeing as this really doesn't count for anything real).

That means, then, that I'll go home with a grand total of 72.9 hours of flying around Kosovo in helicopters.

There was at least one pilot here who didn't have that much time over the course of the deployment, let alone over six or seven weeks.

What a blast!

I love my job.

Blessings and peace to one and all,


Fr. Tim, SJ

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Alone again....

My Aviators all left for the States recently.

Talk about déjà vu all over again!

For the second time in ten weeks I found myself watching everyone else in the unit I've been supporting leave -- without me.

Now, it's true that I've only been with Task Force Aviation for a relatively short time, but I've spent most of my waking moments with them during that time. So I've gotten to know a lot of them, and some of them, pretty well.

I'm very happy for them that they'll soon be home with loved ones and friends! I was just hoping to be able to be there while they experienced the flood of emotions which comes with going home after being away, in foreign countries, for so long.

But it was not to be.

So I'm back to feeling the grief which attends any and all loss. At least it's not completely unexpected -- I was told a couple of days prior to their departure that I'd be going with another group, very few of whom I know as well as I do the guys and gals in TF AVN.

Oh well. I'm sure in some (probably parallel) universe this all makes sense. I was unable to be with my Mustangs as they went through the demobilization process, too. Being here while they were there was a great sadness for me then, as this is now.

But this too shall pass!

Blessings and peace to one and all,


Fr. Tim, SJ

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Some more flowers and insects

I just can't help myself. No matter where I am, if I have my camera, and there are flowers and critters around -- especially wildflowers -- I'll spend time photographing them....

Isn't nature grand?

Blessings and peace to one and all,


Fr. Tim, SJ

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Aviation visits the Church of the Black Madonna

Not long ago a group of Soldiers from Task Force Aviation took a road trip out to the Church of the Black Madonna. As has been their wont for the whole deployment, they brought along a few soccer balls (they're called 'footballs' here), and one of the Sisters who lives and works at the Church was very happy to take a couple off our hands.

A bit later, without any publicity efforts on our parts, we were swarmed with children hoping to come away with a toy or two.

It seemed as though they were all smiles as we left.

I love it when Soldiers interact this way with others!

Blessings and peace to one and all,


Fr. Tim, SJ

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Typical sights in Kosovo

Most of the populace near where we live here just LOVE the United States of America. Many of the locals whom I've met have expressed a desire to move to the States, or at least to have their children move there.

I'm not sure I've seen more representations of the Statue of Liberty anywhere in the US than I've seen in these parts!

Another thing that's really common here is to have buildings, and especially houses it seems, painted with rather bright and surprising colors.

Some houses are very old and dilapidated, while others are clearly much better maintained. They can often be right next to each other.

A decade after the most recent war's end, one can still see buildings which were damaged in the war, and haven't been repaired or razed.

Who knew?

Blessings and peace to one and all,


Fr. Tim, SJ

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Happy Birthday!

One of my Army buddies, who had been an undergraduate in ROTC when I was teaching in the midwest a decade ago, celebrates his birthday today.

He's an amazing Soldier, and a wonderful young man. He's been a great power of example for me over the past three and a half years as I've tried to learn how to be an Officer in the U.S. Army.

Besides his amazing intellect (he scared me when he was an undergrad, he's so bright), and his encyclopedic recall of military history, he caught my attention long ago because he was a violinist in his spare time.

Three combat deployments to Iraq later (from which, each time, he brought all his men home alive -- no mean achievement for an Infantry unit involved in significant engagements with the enemy), he's still going strong and will soon be promoted.

That'll be yet another of my student whom I'll have to address as "Sir" or "Ma'am"....

Happy Birthday, Jason! Sir.

Blessings and peace to one and all,


Fr. Tim, SJ

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Old Glory -- update

A while ago I mentioned that I was on a flight which involved two helicopters. Now, while I was in Iraq, that was standard practice, but here it's not been as common. While we were on the flight, one of the Crew Chiefs flew a flag out the window as we were flying along. Our hope was that one of the crew of the other aircraft would be able to photograph the flag from their vantage point.

I found a couple of photos which they took.

(I'm actually glad to see that I'm not the only one who has trouble keeping the subject in focus while the aircraft is in flight....)

It's a grand old flag!

Blessings and peace to one and all,


Fr. Tim, SJ

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Part of the team

Because I'd been using another Soldier's flight gear exclusively for the past month, the person in charge of that sort of thing in the Lift Company notified me that I needed to sign a hand receipt for the gear.

At the same time, they made me a name tape for the helmet I was using, which identifies the wearer when the person's identity can't be otherwise determined (as when the darker eye shield is down during the day, for example).

Sometimes the names on the helmets simply reflect the given or surname of the Soldier; at other times, the appellation is more colorful.

When I got my helmet back, the name they'd given me was "Chappy."

I really felt as though I were part of the team.

Blessings and peace to one and all,


Fr. Tim, SJ

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Patience

Now that the aircraft have left Post to return to Germany, and thence to the States, Soldiers here in TF Aviation (and throughout KFOR-12) are getting even more antsy to get home.

I can't say as I blame them, but to be honest, I'm trying not to think about it.

After all, this *is* the Army, and things can change.

More and more folks are asking me if I'm excited about leaving, and each time I tell them I'll believe it when I see it. I mention to them that my experience has taught me to focus on doing the next right thing, and then whatever's going to happen will happen according to some other timetable than my own (usually).

By keeping my sights set on the near-term, on "the now," rather than on what *might* be at some indeterminate time in the future, I can stay sharp and see the mission through to completion.

But more than that, only be staying in the present moment can I have any possibility of conscious contact with a power greater than ourselves (as my friends who go to a lot of those AA and Al-Anon meetings put it). I've learned through experience that my God only exists in the present, and not in the past, nor in the future.

If I dwell in the past because of regrets or fears or resentments or whatever, I'm going to miss the surprises of finding God's presence in the "here-and-now." Ditto for attempting to live in the future because I find the past and/or present unacceptable. My God doesn't show up there. God only comes to me in the present moment.

So I'm not very excited about the return, whenever that might be. There's much to be done here before my mission is complete, and I'll keep my eye on that. At least for the present.

In so doing, I'll find the Presence.

Blessings and peace to one and all,


Fr. Tim, SJ

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Off they go, into the wild blue yonder....

On a beautiful, sunny morning recently, our aircraft left Post for the last time, signalling then end of our KFOR-12 aviation mission using equipment which arrived here last October. About an hour before liftoff, I moved from one aircraft to the next, bidding my friends good-bye, dropping off bags of 'treats' for their trip, and praying for their safe and swift return home.

It would have been great to fly up the Adriatic coast with them, but alas! that was not to be.

Along with a number of other Soldiers, I watched their departure from atop the air traffic control tower.

In a gesture of farewell, my buddies flew over the Post flagpole (aircraft are usually not permitted to do so here) on their way to their destination.

Now to finish my handover to my replacements, and I'll be able to get out of here, too!

Blessings and peace to one and all,


Fr. Tim, SJ

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