I began my trip last night to return to Baumholder, Germany–which is where “home” is right. (“Home is where the Army sends us.”) I loaded up into the heavily crowded Chinook Helicopter and flew in to Camp Striker to wait for several days until the Air Force decides to move us. It is always fun to blame the Air Force for all of the waiting right now–but at the end of the day, we wind up trusting them not to crash, so it balances out.
The Chinook is the Army’s double propeller helicopter that, incidentally, my father once flew. We are rushed into the back of this helicopter with all of our bags–I carried my “Ruck Sack”–a huge backpack filled with T-shirts, sleeping bag, running shoes, and my DVD player. Unfortunately, the Army has decided that the best way to carry the ruck sack is to wear it on the  front, which makes a lot of sense.
I also carried, in my hand, my “Assault pack”–which is another smaller back pack (my wife once insulted me and called it a “Book Bag”). In that bag,  I carried my personal computer, my Bible, and other various books and papers.
So, we rushed onto the helicopter with everybody yelling at us to hurry up–none of them are carrying bags, mind you–and threatening us that the Chinook will leave us if we don’t go fast enough. We get in the aircraft and sit “butt cheek to butt cheek” (which is a self explanatory Army expression)–our ruck sacks or piled in front of us, and our assault packs on our laps.Â
We flew this way for five minutes–thankfully. We then reversed the process to get off the helicopter. I bet those crew chiefs love their jobs as the Soldiers run off the aircraft carrying everything they can carry, falling, and disoriented.
At the end of the trip, I laid down on a cot waiting for the Air Force to finish their coffee and fly me home.
Stephanie says
I am really happy for you that you are on your way! I hope you have a safe trip.