A Hitchhikers Guide To The Middle East Part III

I am a hobo. I have literally been thumbing my way around the Middle East. Remember how last Thursday the powers that be said get on that plane and go. Figure out how you get the rest of the way there and back on your own. Well I have been doing just that! I made it up to the base I needed to get too after waiting in the PAX movement tent for just over six hours and a 45-minute bus ride. I made it to the shop that supposedly was hosting this meeting, and true to form, they had no useful information whatsoever. They called over to billeting to try and get me a tent for the night and I mentioned I was on Per Diem. The civilian that was detailed to help me exclaimed “Oh, that changes things, let me call over to the hotel where our contractors are staying!” They drove me out to the Hotel, which is really a resort, and I went to check in. The gentleman at the desk explained that they did not have a room ready for me so they would put me in a chalet for the same price. I thought this was just fine and dandy. The bellhop loaded my gear and myself into a golf cart and we were off. The hop opened the door and I just about pooped my drawers. I had scored a three-bedroom townhouse, with a maid’s quarters, that was at least 1500 to 1800 square ft. It had 3 full bathrooms and a half bath, a dining room, fully equipped kitchen, living room, 3 bedrooms, the master with a giant king size feather bed, and two lanai (one up stairs one down). The floors were marble and it has a beautiful sweeping curved staircase. It rocked!!!! I had gone from tent to palace in less than 48 hours. I was happier than a pig in shit! I might add that in my marble master bath, I had another of those “Fanny Flushers”. This one was considerably more user friendly in design. I actually tried it out and I still believe it is a messy poor second to a wad of the worst American made 40 Grit toilet paper, by the good Lord I do declare it so!

On Sunday I went into the main office to meet with the team coming in for the meeting. In true military fashion, I waited, waited, and then waited some more. Finally, at 1700 I gave up and started to try to get a ride back to my “villa”. I had just made it about a block away when the civilian who was given me a ride got a call on his cell. The team had finally arrived and it was back up to meet them. Of course they had no game plan whatsoever. I agreed to meet with them a 0700 this morning so I made arrangements to check out of my palace and got a ride in. Got up at 0430 packed up, checked out, and met my ride at 0615. Once again true to form. I was there, they weren’t. They finally diddy-bopped in at about 0830 still without any coherent plan. Met with them, did my part to further the cause of freedom and then waited around again. The team had agreed to drive me back to the aforementioned pit camp. So here I sit in an extremely hot tent waiting for a flight to yet another Middle Eastern country from which, I might, I stress the I might, be able to get a flight back to my African paradise in a day or two. I had to check in with an Air Force AMC Staff Sergeant who looked and acted like a young bald Telly Savalas. “Who loves ya Baby, where you wanna go!” His undershirt could barely conceal the giant gold chains around his neck holding up something that was the size of a Mercedes hood ornament. Is the Air Force still a military service?

Note for my Bride: If our kids ever want to serve in Uncle Sugar’s military (lord I hope they are smarter than I am) we need to take them out in the middle to the badlands of West Texas along I-10 and drop them off there with a pocket full of Canadian Money. Tell them to meet us in Dallas in 4 days. If they make it they are definitely military traveler material.

TO THE TYRANT NEVER YIELD