This is MDAir, radio check, over.

Breaking radio silence after five months on hiatus. Yes, I'm still here.

When a person enlists in the Army, he/she is called a Soldier. When a Soldier deploys in support of a combat/contingency operation, he/she is called a Warrior. When a Warrior falls in combat, he/she is called a Hero. Some of you may already know that I am now operating out of a different AO (Area of Operation) and I will, on future posts connect the dots but today I want to remember the Heroes.

My first week on the FOB I had a chance to bond with my new battle buddies and counterparts.  Also on that same week, my new family lost one of their own in a complex attack. When we lose a Hero, we send them away with a ramp ceremony that is announced over the loud speakers several hours before. For the first time, I decided to attend the ceremony not knowing what to expect.

2000hrs, the announcement was made that the ceremony was going to take place at 2145. We arrived approximately 2130, lining up on both sides of the pathway in the position of parade rest. 30 minutes go by and another announcement was made that the ceremony was delayed one hour and yet, none of us moved. At 2230, my arms were going numb, my legs cramping up and then I started thinking of what kind of Worrier the fallen Hero was. I thought of His family, parents, wife, kids, how would they react to the news of their loved one. It was now 2330 and the stiffness on my back was making it unbearable to stand in formation but then I started thinking of how the Hero I never had a chance to meet suffered for hours before passing earlier that day. What He risked and ultimately sacrificed while honorably serving his country. From the corner of my eyes, I noticed the sea of Warriors and Civilians doubled in size, all standing in the position of parade rest, in the dark. It is now 0015 and the Task Force Commander walks towards the helicopter with a sense of urgency. Once he reached the helicopter, the Task Force Sergeant Major called the Task Force to attention. As the Hero's remains slowly made its way down the pathway, each Warrior extended and held a salute until the flag draped stretcher cleared their position. It was now 0030 when the Chaplin announced "let us pray". Starting from the first Warrior closest to the Hero, each Spartan went down to one knee creating a wave like affect and bowed their heads.

Since that day, I have been to two other ceremonies and all of them will have a lasting impact on how I view Memorial Day. Memorial Day is also the day my family observes my mother's and two cousins' birthday, all three still being a major source of inspiration in my life. Some of you reading this may find it inappropriate discussing birthday celebration in a story about fallen Heroes. Take a moment to think of why those Heroes fought. I "fight" so my mother and my two cousins can live free to celebrate another year of life, and move forward to inspire others like me to live happy, work hard and achieve all they can in life.

As you read this and feel tempted to thank me for my service, I challenge you to instead find a person who has lost a loved one and thank them for their sacrifice. Don't feel guilty for having a fun Memorial Day. After all, that's why "They" made the sacrifice.

In the words of Task Force Spartan,
Sparta Lives!
TF Spartan Memorial

ACS

What Really Matters? (LATE POST)

Yes, it must be the Holidays again. Generally speaking, I'm usually not a fan of the chaos associated with the "happiest time of year." One thing I do enjoy however is opening holiday cards some take the time to personalize with a little something to let you know they care.

I don't know why I hold so dear to me when people stop for a moment and make the effort to think about another person. That to me is truly special, especially now-a-days where the definition of personal means a text message. I was told once that if you have someone who has directly or indirectly impacted your life, tell them why they are special to you. 

To me, the Holidays is an opportunity to catch up with those special to you, whom you normally don't have the opportunity to interact with throughout the year… and if you have not done so, let them know why they are special to you. This year, although I'm not around those with whom I'm normally with, I am however with people who I feel are special to me. Those who made the conscious and voluntary decision to risk their lives to keep us safe. Some whom intentionally raised their hands and requested to be put in harms way, searching for bombs and fighting the enemy so I can sit here in my room and blog about Xmas (editor's note: this was written 25DEC). Those people I will always hold dear to me and will always be an inspiration and a motivation to me as I move forward in my life and in the military "fighting the fight". My only regret is that I was unable to join them.

On the attached picture are a few things I've received over the past few days from people who took their time to tell me something special in their own way (Dunkin Donuts being one of my most prized packages.) I finally get to open the rest of the cards that will probably be on display in my 13x9 until I head back home (editor's note: don't worry Hun, I'll get rid of it before I get back.)

Thank you to all back home who has been supporting me and my family during these difficult times (directly or otherwise.) Your support will always be hold dear in my heart, and I will forever be in debt to you.

Take care and I'll see you all soon.

The Straw That Broke The Dog Tag

DISCLAIMER: I’M NOT A WRITER NOR A BLOGGER BUT SOMEONE SOMEWHERE THOUGHT IT WOULD BE A GOOD IDEA TO POST THIS.

WARNER: LANGUAGE IN THIS ENTRY MAY BE INAPPROPRIATE FOR SOME.

Jujitsu, like most marshal arts, requires endurance and precision. You must evaluate your opponent to uncover the subtleties while continuing to evaluate your next move.

So no sh*t there I was… Always the beginning of a good story right? You be the judge.

Some time ago while executing a named mission [editor’s note: apologies in advance for the vagueness] I managed to get my ass chewed [editor’s note: technical military term used when a soldier gets into an altercation with another service member of equal or higher rank] by everybody and their mother. The intent by our higher command was clear, my mission was clear, make it happen! 96hrs leading up to the 48hrs I’m describing, I knew things were going to be difficult. In my world, difficult takes a day [editor’s note: “impossible takes a week” name that tune] plus, in less than a year I’ll be looking back and laughing about this very moment. Too easy! (Back on track) and for the first time in my military career, I even allowed my ass to be chewed by a warrant officer. Only for a little bit, because unfortunately for him I brought my trump card. We’ll call him LT. P. [editor’s note: I knew lieutenants were good for something. Always keep at least one around like spade.]

All eyes on my position(s) (hopefully only for a little while), every decision and statement being sent to those with the letters GEN on their rank, [editor’s note: at least that’s what someone involved told me.] You would think I was operating on a super secret high-risk mission, right? No. I was moving things to people that desperately needed them in other places. All this while never stepping foot outside the wire (this time).

On my 32^nd hour, I was having an unpleasant discussion with another service member, explaining to him why his little slice was extremely important to my overall mission [editor’s note: my overall mission was also a little slice to someone else’s overall mission. Didn’t mean to sound so important] while listening to him bitch about this and that, as I always do, I took a deep breath and reached for my wedding band…

If I could only describe the details of what I was doing, it would depict an eventful timeline from “ok” to “no bueno” to “bad”. So far I only got to the bad, lets get back to the band.

When I start thinking everything is going to shit, I take a deep breath, stop, touch my wedding band (when I can), think about my wife and other pleasant things like the huge care package I received from my fellow co-workers back home on my 25^th hour of this ordeal [editor’s note: thank you immensely by the way to the Creative Services Crew! It made my day for about five minutes. As I write this, I’m back to being joyful about the holiday card and the CDs. The rest of the office here can’t stop talking about the Rolling Stones mags]. This time, I reached for my band and nothing! My brief feeling of panic was calmed by the feeling of extreme concern when I remembered that I put the band on my dog tags [editor’s note: due to the operational hazard of what I do from time to time, I have to remove my ring.] I reached for my tags and out come a small broken loop that once held my ring. The service member in front of me went from bitching to a concerned silence when he noticed the fear of God look on my face. Now I just got to “superbad” status on the scale. I resumed focus on the actual issue I was dealing with after bypassing my subtle ritual and went about my day/night.

After working 38-39 out of the last 42hrs, I went to my room and messaged Luana only mentioning two things:

               1-    my day didn’t go according to plan (ok, it never does)

               2-    Oh, by the way, I just lost my band.

Being the considerate wife she can be (unfortunately not this time) after expressing her discontent in less than subtle ways for my less than stellar decision-making, [editor’s note: I couldn’t really tell her how it happened] I messaged her an incoherent note stating something along the lines of “ I’m sorry. That ring is as good as gone. I love you, good night” and proceeded to pass out on my floor, fully clothed with my pistol still attached to my hip.

After a long 3hrs sleep, I woke up refreshed, glanced at my iPad and saw a note from Luana before I headed out the door that put everything into perspective:

“Well at least you are alive, I’d rather you come home alive than someone mail me your wedding band”

Wow! That hit me hard. Unlike other jobs, bad decision making on my part could lead to loss of life. But the little bullshit I was dealing with was only a speed bump on the road to synchronizing several pockets of people to accomplish a large task(s). Once again, Too Easy!

Day started fresh, cup of Dunkin’, quick brief, a few updates of potential failures but all in all good. I decided to go check on a few people and went over to a rig I was working on [editor’s note: Rig, in this case, is a net used to sling-load cargo on helicopters] and pick-up a box I left behind in the middle of a large gravel field and BAM! There it was! From the corner of my eyes I noticed a dull oval shape that for some reason caught my attention five feet away. My band was just laying there, under the dust between two rocks. After picking up the ring (and the box), I moved out to the Tactical Operations Center (TOC) for several hours to make sure things were in position, picked up a radio and headed to my room for some real sleep leaving behind instructions to wake me up as things start to happen.

I really don’t understand how I’ve had these things around my neck for months while going through extremely physical training and other harsh conditions but yet my tiny ring was the straw that broke the dog tags.

As I post this, I’m happy to report that I have had several hours of sleep and things are back to normal relatively speaking. Thank you once again for all your support and well wishes back home. The above posting is an unedited version of what I wrote shortly after the event(s) took place. I’m also happy to report that after understanding the larger picture, the people involved in this story appreciate what we were trying to accomplish.

"Essayons"
(Let Us Try)

DejaVu pt.1

D-30DAYS: As I strap on my crusty old boots, the same ones I first wore six years ago in Iraq, I reflect back on the events that led me to today.

A year ago I was driving back from class, heading to what was going to be the beginning of an eventful summer x games week. I was tired but excited to tackle the challenges I was about to face until I got a call from my Platoon Sergeant. He was subtle but strait forward.

 “what do you think of Afghanistan?”

I replied the only way I could

“I hear it’s beautiful but it gets cold in the winter, why?”

“Get used to the cold because Myself, You and our Commander may be voluntold to get on this mission next year”

Now… what do I do with this kind of information? A normal person would maybe take some time to sit down with their significant other and discuss the possibility of being gone for a year. What do I do? That’s right, the same thing I did last time, call Claude (my other boss), dejavu. My thought process still is that I spend more time working and doing work related activities that by having potential deployment in my head would be counter constructive to my efforts.  Especially this week, the week where I’d be working 7 days straight, close to 80hrs while managing to take 2 finals at school. I can’t afford to be distracted.

Going forward 6 months to the spring of 2011, now the possibility is getting real. I received official orders to be attached to the deploying unit so now I need to bring more people in the loop including Chris (my other boss). At this point I’ve hinted to Luana (my actual boss and CFO) of the slight possibility of going away and periodically had the “what if” discussion. I’ve held meetings with my supervisors of possible courses of action while attempting to keep this under wraps from those who didn’t need to know. Pitty from others would be a constant reminder that I’m leaving but I don’t need that. I need to hear that I suck when I do and challenged to do better. My goal, same as last time was to finish work strong, then transition into my military responsibilities.

Pardon my writing.

To be continued.

Gone for a min

Hello Friends, Family and Co-Workers!

In true Santana fashion, here I am with the long awaited blog update. In the upcoming months, I'll tell stories of my journey starting with day 1. Most entries will be worth the wait, some won't.

Stay tuned, I have plenty of videos and pictures from this trip thus far.

I'll leave you with my first update:
1- Yes, I'm in Afghanistan.
2- I'm safe and healthy.
3- I have everything I need and more. If you still feel the need to send me something, Dunkin Donuts K-cups for the office is always welcomed and golden! (via Amazon or your local Dunkin Donuts)

I miss you all and look forward to sharing drinks and stories,
ACS