Letters from Iraq

Turning 50 With The Hickabillys

4 September 2004
Forward Operating Base (FOB)
Kirkush Military Training Base (KMTB)
Diyala Province, Iraq

Today is the eve of my 50th birthday and Specialist (SPC) Angie Miller (first person I baptized in Iraq), just HAD to put up flyers all over our portion of this base about this unauspicious occasion.

Brigadier General (BG) Dan Hickman came by earlier this evening to deliver my birthday present from him. There were three items:

(1) a bottle of hot sauce,
(2) a book entitled, "I Will be Called John," which is a biography of Pope John XXIII, and
(3) something that our Commander made. It is a shower aiming device created out of a plastic water bottle. It seems the shower heads spray the water well but only occasionally upon one's body, so BG Hickman now has the Iraqi patent on a plastic gizmo that fits over the shower head and will direct the water in one general direction.

Folks, it actually works! Leave it up to our General to come up with a better widget. Today I saw the first clouds in four months! Rain may be in our future.

5 September 2004

My office is full of balloons and other paraphernalia deemed appropriate. It seems my wife and my roommate conspired on this one. There was a large sign over the doorway into the Command Building as well, that said, "Happy Birthday Dennis." It was bright and colorful with only one problem, no one knew who Dennis is. My first name has been "chaplain" so long now that it may be the only name I answer to for a while when I return home.

Today I received several gifts during 1000 worship by CH(CPT) Darrell Brumfield and CH(CPT) Kevin Wainwright. I now own a mauve bed pan, my own oxygen mask to help me walk to the Chapel, a 1000CC container so I won't have to get up so many times during the night, a wheel chair (non uparmored), a genuine prescription for Viagra and Metamucil, a replacement pack of Old Geezer "LostYerMarbles" for "of all the things you've lost, you miss your mind the most!" and a card from my chaplains and assistants that on the outside reads: 'You're 50 and you're a national treasure." Inside the card, it reads, "Sadly, Congress has allocated no funds for your maintenance."

CSM Larry Morgan presented me the black heart (a pin with "50, over the hill" as well as an appropriate black bib. A large cake was finally carried into the Chapel with only one candle (thank God!). Someone made a remark about the fire marshal not allowing the necessary number of candles. Whatever happened to Christian people treating one another with kindness?

COL Jay and Pam Wilkins sent me an e-card that said, "It is not happiness that make us grateful, but gratefulness that makes us happy." For me, I am grateful to have made it to 50 and happy to have family and friends.

Even with all the shenanigans as we began church today, we still had great worship and moved outside the Chapel for the sacrament of baptism. This time we simplified the sacrament so that baptism arose out of worship and we wouldn't have to cross the base to the Parade Field.

Today, three young men stepped across the line and joined the family of God. In the picture on the right you will notice that I am enforcing the standard of not letting them up until the bubbles stop. (Just kidding) Their names are: SSG Leland Walter Price from C Co., 1/150th; SGT Edward Conder (HHB 1/113th); and SGT Stephen Neuens (HHC 1/252nd.

They can be seen on the front of the picture (photo not forwarded-SM) on the left. On the extreme left is our vertically challenged chaplain, CPT Darrell Brumfield and beside him stands Chaplain (CPT) Kevin Wainwright. Chaplain Brumfield is our resident expert on immersions as he is a Southern Baptist pastor. Chaplain Wainwright and I are water challenged when it comes to baptism at our home churches but we have now mastered the art of immersion thanks to lessons from Chaplain Brumfield.

At the conclusion of the real service of baptism, SSG Scott Schnack drove the Brigade Command Sergeant Major's HUMMWV in front of our wooden baptismal pool. After a brief exhortation by me on how this particular vehicle is replete with sin and needs to be cleansed of its unrighteousness, I shared how it had been hit by six IEDs, broken down many times, and had nine flat tires.

I then dipped a wash basin into the waters of healing and three times slung massive quantities of hydrogen dioxide on this creature that needs to be born again and have a new life. I think it may be the first baptized HUMMWV in Iraq although many have probably been prayed over. I was particularly interested in the salvation of this particular HUMMWV since I would be riding in it for three days, beginning the next day.

I think God was trying to send me a message about baptizing any more HUMMWVs for we had been traveling for less than fifteen (15) minutes when CSM Morgan's HUMMWV blew a radiator hose and we were temporarily stranded. My only excuse to CSM Morgan was, "I only baptized the exterior," i.e., we should have lifted the hood.

Not sure I convinced anybody on that one. Maybe we should have just shot it. Monday, September 6 The Hickabillies departed FOB Caldwell at 1410 and made our way to FOB COBRA and Task Force (TF) 252. They were conducting Labor Day festivities at FOB COBRA and for dinner they were having a sure enough cook-out. There were hamburgers, hot dogs, pork and beef steaks with salads and fruit and even a cooler of "3 Horses" near-beer.

Now for the uninitiated, nearbeer tastes like beer but the alcohol content has to be less than 0.5%. One soldier figured it would take him 120 near-beers to get a buzz. I really don't think his kidneys would appreciate the workout.

Anyway during dinner my favorite roomie had given TF 252 a heads-up concerning the manager of the Hickabillies' birthday. While eating I looked up and LTC Thompson, CSM Schwab and SFC Little were carrying a tray of cinnamon rolls with six lighted sparklers my way while singing Happy Birthday.

Good grief. I couldn't blow out one of the sparklers and since it seemed to be that all eyes were on me, I extinguished the sparkler with my fingers. Don't try that one. Burning flesh does not smell good.

The Hickabillies performance began at 2130 hours or 9:30 p.m. (real people time). The front row seats were occupied two hours before show time. SPC Emory Altman began the show with a rousing "Take this FOB and Shove It," a take-off on the Johnny Paycheck song.

During this particular performance, SPC Altman showcased his new pink dress and there was a fear that a few of his wildly enthusiastic fans might storm the stage when it was pointed out that he resembled Sharon Osborne.

Captain(CPT) Buck Rogers on the banjo and mandolin came out with a haiji rug tied around his waist resembling something of a skirt, a long-haired brown wig and sunglasses. Howard Stern never looked so good.

Only two of the Hickabillies portrayed proper military attire. Both are from West Virginian, so maybe they were just figuring that if you are from West Virginia you don't even have to dress up funny to look like a Hickabilly.

SGT "Big Joe" Harrison from Beckley, WV is our new sound man and he adjusts a mean potentiometer. Since Emet, the midget Puerto Rican who was our worship leader, defected back home to Fayetteville, NC, we had to find another bass player. SGT Matt Clark from Delbarton, WV (home of the Hatfields and the McCoys) stepped up and with only two hours of rehearsing, performed great and the band never missed a beat.

In another song titled, "I Love This FOB," which is sung to the tune of Toby Keith's "I Love This Bar," more pandemonium broke out when SPC Altman sang the line, "We got fuelers, we got finance, wished I could get a lap dance."

There happened to be a member of the finance team present of the female persuasion on the front row. SPC Altman happened to look in her direction about the time the words left his mouth and this broke things up so badly that the band had to momentarily quit and could only continue with SPC Altman shielding his face from the only female in the audience.

One and one-half hours later, after our sides hurt from laughing so much, they concluded with the new song by John Michael Montgomery called, "Letters From Home." There were a lot of watery eyes by its conclusion.

The troops told me the next day how much they loved the show and the Hickabillies are enjoying their stardom as the No. 1 group in the Diyala Province of Iraq.

After packing up well past midnight and an interesting night spent in a CHU (Containerized Housing Unit), we left the next morning for the next stop on the Hickabilly Tour of 2004, FOB BERNSTEIN.

As we traveled through the Iraqi towns of Julala and Tuz, I noticed that the children still run out to greet American convoys as they pass and greet us with the "thumbs up" sign. I even saw one man blow us a kiss as we were passing. I think that one was meant for Command Sergeant Major (CSM) Larry Morgan.

The sheepherders were busy tending heir flocks up and down the highway. There was only rubble in a few places where I assumed there once stood a small village. As we travel these roads, the desert is bermed in many places. My only possible explanation is that it is a remnant of Saddam Hussein's days.

Traveling north, the Iranian mountains are a constant presence on my right with a riverbed and some greenery on my left. I know that both are many miles away but they appear so much closer. I really think this country needs a national "Keep Iraq Beautiful" campaign as abandoned vehicles, large boulders, no greenery and abandoned shells of buildings line the landscape.

As we travel through the city of Tuz it is very congested. Shop owners market their wares on stands in front of their places of business. There is obviously no reason to go inside these shops to purchase their wares. I am no connoisseur of the canine population but it did appear that every dog I saw was paperless, i.e., no United Kennel Club (UKC) registrations among the lot.

Slower methods of transportation travel on the right side of these roads with a cart, pulled either by a donkey or a tractor. Every once in a while I even saw someone riding a donkey, which seemed as popular a method of transportation as the bicycle.

At 1050 hours on 07 September 2004, I saw my first blonde-haired Iraqi. He was a little boy around five years of age. I can't explain that one but he did appear to be an attractive young fellow.

We had a few hours to rest after arriving at FOB BERNSTEIN. Troop E, 196th Cavalry, an Elizabethtown, N.C. unit, built two wooden structures for Morale, Welfare and Recreation (MWR). I played some ping-pong with my chaplain's assistant, Staff Sergeant (SSG) Sammy Ward and won.

CSM Larry Morgan, my roomie, was next and I decided to play him left-handed. He is a much older man whose dexterity is probably limited by his advanced years. I won that game too and quickly decided that I had stretched my luck about as far as it could possibly go and left.

The evening performance began at 2000 hours in the BERNSTEIN Dining Facility. Like the earlier performance the evening before, most every chair was filled. Technical difficulties befell us as one microphone was trashed after it descended rapidly to the concrete floor. The show must go one, even though we are short one microphone.

It soon became apparent that this was a tougher audience so SPC Altman employed more of his refined comedy skills between songs in order to loosen up the audience. Ninety minutes later we were packing up our gear and telling stories about the night's audience and performance.

It seems that our Active Duty counterparts have heard about the fabulous Hickabillies, so as their manager, I negotiated their next performance in October but only after insisting that the band be flown by helicopter.

We will also return to FOB COBRA next month. I am not sure I earned a graduate seminary degree to plan the schedule of a bunch of desert-camouflaged comedians who dress funny. But then, it does bring refreshment to the soul to laugh.

CH (LTC) Dennis Goodwin
30th Brigade Combat Team

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