FOB Kalsu

I spent the last 9 days north of Camp Echo with another soldier from my company and many military strangers. A quiet little place called FOB Kalsu. At the last minute it was determined that I needed to go with a soldier/patient (impacted wisdom [not just the tooth]) to Kalsu. I grabbed my bag, threw in socks and a t-shirt, and took off. Above Iraq, in the noise of a UH-60 blackhawk minutes later, we braced ourselves, strapped in, against the open window heat bath of wind in silence. By the next morning dust storm atmospherics grounded the air, and the SOFA deadline constricted nearly all ground movement.

Most of the time, while stuck at Kalsu, the sky looked like this. Known as "shamal" to the Iraqis these afternoon summer wind and dust storms are the desert version of the PM thunder showers I'm used to back home in Florida. Interesting in a photograph, but "red skies" are a pain in the arse to walk around in and even more so for getting off the ground in a helicopter.


This is where most of the waiting game takes place. Be here/there with all your gear, ready to go, only to get cancelled, once or twice a day. Military has priority and it took me and the other soldier a week to get out. There are private contractors who have been waiting for a month just to take as few as two weeks break time.

In the mornings it often looks like this. Nice out, even in a hall of t-walls. Walking on gravel all the time is not something I'll miss about Iraq.

For the first 3 days...no PX. This meant no soap, no toothbrush, et cetera. On the fourth day I got some courtesy shampoo from the MWR and washed with that, only to find the PX had reopened.

Like the terrorist threat level, a nearly comical reminder that it's hot out. Perhaps brought to you by Ashcroft and friends.

This is a mural, on FOB Kalsu, of what I typically take pictures of and post on this blog, from the back seat of a Humvee to the WWW.

Ahh, to dine alfresco in 120 degrees, a rare opportunity, few takers.