Camp Buering, Kuwait
My eyes opened to a nondescript bunk overhead, the whir of the air conditioner in the background. What day it was or what the time was, I couldn’t tell you. My bearings coming in to focus but it still almost felt as though I was in a dream. Many of my dreams from the Middle East had me in transient barracks at one point or another. During my deployment with the 54th in 2006, our platoon spent weeks in transient barracks all across Iraq from Al Quim to Balad. After months of missions, my brain seemed to be imprinted with this pattern. Waking up, actually in transient barracks was surreal for a moment or two.
Three quick knocks on the outer door snapped me back to the here and now and my day’s mission came back to me. Andrea, our fixer, had made contact with a unit attached to the 3rd Army in Kuwait that had found some staff to allot to our goal of capturing images on Camp Buering. At 0900, SSG Richardson and company would be snatching us from the PX on Ali to spend the day documenting photos. As this was our first physical encounter with the military since our arrival, I was a bit apprehensive as to what would be in store for us.
Three quick knocks on the outer door snapped me back to the here and now and my day’s mission came back to me. Andrea, our fixer, had made contact with a unit attached to the 3rd Army in Kuwait that had found some staff to allot to our goal of capturing images on Camp Buering. At 0900, SSG Richardson and company would be snatching us from the PX on Ali to spend the day documenting photos. As this was our first physical encounter with the military since our arrival, I was a bit apprehensive as to what would be in store for us.
Camp Buering, Kuwait
Though Andrea and I are both combat veterans, this is our first go around as civilians in country. Not just civilians but media embeds at that. This is an entirely new role for either of us to be in and like trying on a new pair of shoes; it takes some breaking in until comfort is found. Thankfully, SSG Richardson had a surprise up her sleeve that even she didn’t know about.
Coffee being my first thought, well at least in the top two, cigarettes being the other, I dressed, cleaned up (that is a relative term used loosely in the desert) and out the door I was. Heading over to the PX, we arrived at our predetermined rally point and I went in search of God’s elixir. Minutes later, the tallest coffee I could muster firmly in my grasp, we awaited our escort outside while local nationals peddled their wares to the deployed nouveau riche.
Andrea’s cell phone chirped and the word was they would arrive within minutes. Again, the anxious feeling as I awaited the NCOs who would escort us through Ali Al Salem and beyond, still breaking in my brand new role as media personnel. The heat of the day, mere moments from enveloping every facet of our bodies, SSG Richardson turns the corner of the T-wall and thrusts her hand forward with a pleasant hello.
Coffee being my first thought, well at least in the top two, cigarettes being the other, I dressed, cleaned up (that is a relative term used loosely in the desert) and out the door I was. Heading over to the PX, we arrived at our predetermined rally point and I went in search of God’s elixir. Minutes later, the tallest coffee I could muster firmly in my grasp, we awaited our escort outside while local nationals peddled their wares to the deployed nouveau riche.
Andrea’s cell phone chirped and the word was they would arrive within minutes. Again, the anxious feeling as I awaited the NCOs who would escort us through Ali Al Salem and beyond, still breaking in my brand new role as media personnel. The heat of the day, mere moments from enveloping every facet of our bodies, SSG Richardson turns the corner of the T-wall and thrusts her hand forward with a pleasant hello.
Old Glory, The Kuwaiti Flag and WV
We exchange pleasantries and the usual disparaging remarks about the heat and head toward her vehicle for relief. I notice her accent, but I could not quite place it. Andrea had informed me earlier that our contacts were from a National Guard unit attached to 3rd Army, so out of curiosity I asked from what state. SSG Richardson replies West Virginia and with that my anxiety settles and my role seems to fit that much better.
Heading through the desert on our way to Camp Buering, we exchange locations and schools and I truly begin to understand what a very small world I live in. My eyes wander to the outside world as we tear across the desert, the horizon but a blur in the distance. No trees, no bushes, no life that I can see. Just miles and miles of desert, not dunes but flat light tan dirt as far as you can see with a sliver of asphalt snaking through it all. We arrive at Camp Buering and go through the exhaustive security checks, though frustrating, a necessity for those whose lives depend on it.
Heading through the desert on our way to Camp Buering, we exchange locations and schools and I truly begin to understand what a very small world I live in. My eyes wander to the outside world as we tear across the desert, the horizon but a blur in the distance. No trees, no bushes, no life that I can see. Just miles and miles of desert, not dunes but flat light tan dirt as far as you can see with a sliver of asphalt snaking through it all. We arrive at Camp Buering and go through the exhaustive security checks, though frustrating, a necessity for those whose lives depend on it.
Doc and SFC OIiverio
Once free of prying eyes and checks, we head over to their HQ for a pit stop and some introductions. The art here is amazing and there is so much of it. Andrea and I are both salivating at the chance to capture what we can and our hosts are all too pleased to showcase their post. We arrive at HQ and meet with some of the unit, though scheduling conflicts prevent us from meeting with their Colonel. As we wait to leave a SFC Oliverio confronts me and asks from where I herald from. I smile and say Clarksburg, knowing with a last name like Oliverio, he must already know the answer. We talk about home and his relatives and more, quickly combing through the minutes until a horn beckons me to part. I just can’t help but smile as I walk away from their Battalion building with the WV flag waving up high. No matter how far you travel there is always a little bit of home just where you least expect.
The heat of the day is melting our insides as we snap photo after photo of the T-walls covering the base. Andrea and I take it in shifts as there are hundreds and hundreds of some of the finest examples I have seen yet. After taking over 400 shots, the sun forces us indoors for a much needed lunch break. The heat curbs your appetite until you cool off then it rushes back with a vengeance. I had no idea how hungry I was until we came inside. The growl of my stomach seemed to reverberate inside the tin walls of the Dining Facility. Thank God for Army chow.
We ate and exchanged funny stories of past deployments and shared our locations and units like fraternity friends, each unique but all share that similar core. I reflected at where we were and the years that have gone by since the last time I was in a chow hall like this. It all seemed familiar and very much the same, the only difference was me and how much I had changed.
The heat of the day is melting our insides as we snap photo after photo of the T-walls covering the base. Andrea and I take it in shifts as there are hundreds and hundreds of some of the finest examples I have seen yet. After taking over 400 shots, the sun forces us indoors for a much needed lunch break. The heat curbs your appetite until you cool off then it rushes back with a vengeance. I had no idea how hungry I was until we came inside. The growl of my stomach seemed to reverberate inside the tin walls of the Dining Facility. Thank God for Army chow.
We ate and exchanged funny stories of past deployments and shared our locations and units like fraternity friends, each unique but all share that similar core. I reflected at where we were and the years that have gone by since the last time I was in a chow hall like this. It all seemed familiar and very much the same, the only difference was me and how much I had changed.
Camp Buering, Kuwait
We spent the rest of the afternoon collecting photos, SSG Richardson escorting and Andrea and I snapping away. We gathered over 900 images in total, though some of them duplicate to ensure of the quality. Though hot, the day seemed to go quickly and before long it was time to head back to our transient lives on Ali. We packed up and left, back on the road to seemingly nowhere, how these soldiers find their way is a miracle on its own. The trip back was a bit quieter, our energy sapped by the burning yellow disk high in the sky. Before long we were on familiar ground back at Ali, ready for a shower a bite and a nap. We all exchanged cards and handshakes, promising to keep in touch and wishing the safety of the other. Thanks to our “fixer” and the graciousness of the West Virginia National Guard, if we were not able to go anywhere else this entire trip, this day and the 900 images that go with it, would still make this trip worthwhile.
Watching SSG Richardson and SFC Coffe head out towards the gate, I kept thinking about the odds of meeting the National Guard unit from my current home state some 7,000 miles away and somehow we found them, of all the units here, somehow we found them. The sun is low in the sky and the horizon is an orange glow, the heat finally subsiding, sleep is near. Andrea and I head our separate ways to our tents, the transient life for us.
Always Forward!
Jaeson "Doc" Parsons
Watching SSG Richardson and SFC Coffe head out towards the gate, I kept thinking about the odds of meeting the National Guard unit from my current home state some 7,000 miles away and somehow we found them, of all the units here, somehow we found them. The sun is low in the sky and the horizon is an orange glow, the heat finally subsiding, sleep is near. Andrea and I head our separate ways to our tents, the transient life for us.
Always Forward!
Jaeson "Doc" Parsons
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