Tag: IRAQ

  It has been awhile since my first post, Recruiting Command demands a lot of my time!

  I last left off talking about my first unit, the 514th Ground Ambulance Company at FT. Lewis, WA.  I was there from 1994 to 1999, and I had a good time.  Finally though, it was time for me to move on.  I was a newly promoted E-5 and I wanted to challenge myself both mentally and physically.  The opportunity arose for me to Reenlist for Germany!  I jumped at the chance, and willingly rose my Right Hand.

  My unit of assigment was 2nd BN, 2nd Infantry Regiment, part of 3rd BDE, 1st Infantry Division.  I was proud to be a part of the Army's most prestigious and battle tested Division.  I arrived in Germany to find out that my unit was in Kosovo.  My first deployment!  I was excited to go!  I was made a Platoon medic in Aco, 2-2IN.  I LOVED my job, it was everything I was hoping it would be.  I was "Doc", the guy to come to when you were sick, or injured, or just needed to talk.

  I spent 6 months in Kosovo and returned to Germany to refit and train for our next deployment, which ended up being back in Kosovo, to the same place as before.  By that time I was the Senior Medic for Aco.  I was the head medical authority of the Company, the Commanders right hand man when it came to his Infantrymens' medical health.  I was in charge of 3 Platoon medics, and two M113 Tracked ambulances and the crews.  We had another succesful deployment in Kosovo, and watched the initial invasion of Iraq on the T.V.  our deployment was extended by 3 months, and we just knew that our turn would come to go to Iraq.

  February 2004 we were on a plane headed to beautiful sunny Iraq.  We all knew that this would not be like our deployments to Kosovo, this was the real deal this time.  The Big Red One was ready, we were going to make our mark in Iraq, and in the history books.

  We were based at FOB Normandy, near Muqdadiyah, in the Diyala province.  The BN had many fights during our time there, and always came out victorious.  We lost many good friends and leaders, especially during Operation Phantom Fury in Fallujah, but they did not die in vain.  The 2nd BN 2nd IN regiment will forever be in the annals of history, and in my thoughts.  I am proud to have served.

  My medical skills were tested the whole year in Iraq.  I had a great Physicians Assistant, and BN Surgeon.  I learned so much there, that I could operate independently if the need arose.  I knew my stuff, and the men of Aco respected me and trusted me with their lives.

  I reenlisted in Iraq, and upon our redeployment  I was moving back to FT. Lewis.  My next blog will be about my experiences as a medic in one of the Army's newest units, a Stryker BDE............

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It seems like a lot of the media focus is on Afghanistan now.  However, this upcoming election in Iraq is truly a historic time.  It will be our real transition to stability operations there with Iraqis in the lead.  I follow Tom Ricks blog over at foreignpolicy.com - he really thinks that Iraq is unraveling and will erupt sometime soon.  He is a very smart and knowledgeable guy so let's hope he is wrong.

In an unclassified portion of a meeting, I came across a crazy figure about Iraq.  We will be moving over 1 million pieces of equipment out of Iraq by 1 SEP.  It sounds like a crazy number but it was clarified by a smart General that I have worked with before.  Much of that large number will be on the soldier's person.  In other words, it is weapons, ruck sacks, body armor, sleeping bags, etc/  Still, a huge number.

On another note, it made my day today and maybe the highlight of my deployment so far to be in a direct email chain that goes back to Gen Petraeus.  It was a benign email about logistics, etc.  But, still it shows the level of people and officers that I am working with - the highest.  The meeting I just came from had 3 Generals in it and I was one of only maybe 4 other people in the room.  Just hard to explain how unique that is for someone at my rank.

Lights glow during an evening view of the Gates of Babylon restaurant aboard Camp Slayer, Iraq, Feb. 25, 2010. U.S. Army photo by Spc. Anita VanderMolen.
 

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  Ever since I was a little boy, I wanted to be a soldier.  My Grandfather was in WW2 in General Pattons' prestigious 4th Armored Division.  I remember sitting on his lap entranced by the stories of his time in Germany during the War.  He was my hero, always was and always will be.

  I enlisted into the Army's Delayed Entry program the minute I turned 18.  I remember telling my folks that I was going in the Army, and they were not to thrilled at the idea.  My Dad wanted me to join the Air Force because it was "safer".  I knew in my heart of hearts that the Army was were I belonged.  I knew that ever since I sat on Poppas lap and listened to his stories, saw the tears in his eyes.

  When I took the ASVAB, I had no clue as to what I wanted to do in the Army, I never really thought about it.  I just KNEW that the Army was for me.  Once my scores came back and I sat down with my Recruiter to pick out a job, only one of those jobs really stood out to me: 91B-Medical Specialist, (Now 68W-Healthcare Specialist).  My Recruiter was a grizzled old Infantryman and he said that Medic was the best job in the Army according to him.  He told me of all the great things his Medics did during Desert Storm, how they are some of the bravest soldiers he had ever seen.  I knew at that moment that this was the job that would make my Poppa proud.  MEDIC!

 After a glorious 8 weeks at FT. Leonard Wood MO., I went to FT. Sam Houston for training.  10 weeks of shots, IV's, practicing bandaging, Emergency Medical Technician training, etc.  I found the training easy, and it just reinforced my thoughts that this was the career I was destined for.

  My first Permanent duty station was the 514th Medical Company, Ground Ambulance, at FT. Lewis Washington.  I was expecting, HOPING that I would be sent to and Infantry Battalion, where "Doc" was the man, the guy that was always there to help. Patching up bullet holes, stitching up bar fight injuries on a Saturday Night.  Definitely not the case!  I was assigned as an Ambulance driver, and did a lot of Range covereage, medical coverage for the Washington Special Olympics, Cobra Gold in Thailand, etc.  It wasnt what I was expecting, but I still loved my job and thought I was making a difference.  Me making the decision to enlist and serve my Country was the first step.

Stay tuned for part 2!

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My name is Jonathan Freudenthal. I was born and raised in Nashville, TN. I attended college at Western Kentucky University and started my career in the US Army. I served on Active Duty for six years and was fortunate to have served in both Afghanistan and Iraq with some of the best military and civilian organizations in the world. I am currently working for US Special Operations Command (SOCOM) as both an Army Reservist and Federal Employee. As a civilian, I am a Strategic Planner (GS-13 level) for SOCOM and work in the Current Operations Directorate. As a Reservist, I am a Staff Sergeant (E-6) and I serve as a Counter-Terrorism Analyst.

I am fortunate that both elements of my professional career provide me the opportunity to support Special Operations Forces worldwide. I love being apart of the Army Reserve and fully enjoy the benefits that accompany that role. Not only do I get to further my career as a soldier but the Army Reserve affords me the opportunity to further my educational goals by utilizing both the Montgomery GI Bill and Tuition Assistance funds allowing me to attend school for free! Considering the constant rise in educational costs I find it very beneficial to use this method to obtain something I consider to be a priceless commodity.

I am very excited to be able to participate in this year's Army All-American Bowl. It truly is an honor to have been selected for such a unique event. I have never participated in an event at this level. I'm really looking forward to meeting the other Soldiers participating and getting to know some of the players involved in the game. Having played football through grade school as well as at the intramural level in college and within the Army I am hoping we get an opportunity to "throw the rock around" for a few. Maybe get a fun game of flag football together or something at that level. I'm hoping the weather holds and maybe we'll get lucky enough to have a warm front come through during the week. One can hope, right? Anyway, I've got to get back to packing. Look for more updates tomorrow from the event. Talk to you soon!

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Taken more recently, somewhere "Over There." Not as many troopers, obviously, as the photo I posted several days ago.

But the sentiment...and the dedication to duty, are the same.

Here's to us and those like us...Godspeed to all those in harm's way and to those who "keep 'em flying."

A salute to all Veterans on this special day!

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This past weekend I experienced the greatest thing I have ever done at drill.  I didn't outrun anyone, I didn't shoot at expert level, it was nothing of the sort.  I went to the VA hospital and met with an Iraq war veteran.  I have not been able to sleep well since.

This wasn't the first time I had seen an injured soldier but this particular encounter has stuck with me.  I went with my G2 OIC, Major Stanley, to visit this man.  As we entered the ICU and I laid my eyes on him, my heart broke.  He asked me how old I was; 23 I answered.  He was 23 as well.  He was my age and paralyzed from the waist down by a sniper's bullet to the neck.  I held back my tears.  He looked at my rank and said he should have tried to commission, perhaps then he would still be able to walk.  I explained I was enlisted, this butter bar was practically brand new, the patch was still stiff with starch. 

I will never forget the grimaces of pain that flashed across his face.  He had been in surgery for nine hours the previous day.  His leg muscle spasms pulled at his stiches, the morphine wasn't strong enough.  It was his eyes though that I found myself staring at.  There was this faint spark, something saying he was never going to stop fighting that was there. 

This soldier will be in a year long recovery from his latest surgery. 

Major Stanley is on the board of an organization called Helping a Hero. (http://www.helpingahero.org/)  This organization helps wounded soldiers from the global war on terror by providing them with housing to accomodate their needs.  The soldier I mentioned above, he recently was one of these recipients.  If you are at all interested in learning more about this or wanting to contribute in any way, please see the above the link or contact Major Frank Stanley at frank.stanley@us.army.mil.

Thank you all so much for your continued support and efforts.

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http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=1251338528458&ref=share

There is something unique about the experience of a soldier coming home.  To each time and place I believe there must be something about how they are received that says a lot about the times we live in, our Zeitgeist.  A soldier coming home in America is a unique experience in this world.  I know that this is a similar feeling to what WWI and WWII veterans felt.  Just as in those days there are crowds cheering, loved ones waiting, and invariably John Phillip Sousa blaring in the background; the hallmarks of coming home in America. 

This month I came home to Dallas, where my wife works and I occasionally visit, for my two week R&R leave from Iraq. On both of my R&Rs, 1st and 2nd tours, I was met by the welcoming people of Dallas clapping and cheering as we moved down the breeze way.  I figured that every city was this receptive. Now I have heard that my assumption was naïve.  In Atlanta, soldiers come and go and no one cares. In west coast cities some soldiers are occasionally scoffed at.  I guess it can never be as bad as the Vietnam vets had it.  As I passed the customs check I met the rows of veterans clapping. Vietnam vets mostly but a wide variety of veterans there to greet and thank soldiers. After them I saw my wife Paula and a mob of my friends from my Sunday School class, their children, a former Army buddy, and other family members. What an experience!  No matter how many deployments and reunions it is still wonderful to finally see everyone and breath the free air of home.  During the reunion I shed all my worries like a giant weight suddenly lifted from my chest.  It is like being released from prison without the stigma of being a criminal.

What makes it all the more worth it are the children brought by their parents. Obviously, some came for me.  Some volunteered with the USO.  Others like our friends, K and B, made their kids hand out candy to the returning soldiers. I think this is wonderful, especially since I got my share of the sweets. In doing this K +B were teaching these children about the responsibility society has to its veterans. Another good friend brought her three girls to meet me. The oldest Charlotte, a very grown up 5, made me a sign, welcoming me home.  I thought about this as I stood there.  I flashed back to when I was a boy of 12 at that same airport, and I welcomed home my older brother from the first Gulf War.  Now I was in his place, and both memories would last me a life time.  I immediately thought that I should thank all of the kids there to meet me almost as if I was trying to brand their minds with the memory of that moment. So that maybe they wouldn’t forget their veterans like so many of the baby-boomer generation had.  For the small babies it may be a passing thought when their parents relate taking them to meet the soldiers returning from war when they were little.  Little Charlotte will remember it!  As will my friends and family.  For me these moments are like two way streets of gratitude.  1.6 million have served in this conflict out of 300 million people in the US.  Most Americans don’t even know a veteran of the Global War On Terror.  For many Americans, this is a window into the American Experience.

Incidentally, I joined the American Legion in my hometown of Morton, Texas while on leave.  The commander, a former platoon leader in Vietnam, spoke about preventing what happened to him and the veterans of his time.  Every time I have come home I’ve been met by the Vietnam veterans all working to prevent the same tragedy of ingratitude and silence.  In Dallas that day I thanked the Vietnam guys for giving me the home coming they never had. I’m proud of Dallas, not just for me, but for the response they always give to the soldiers on their way home. Many of my friends who welcomed me have vastly different political opinions of the war than I but that didn’t stop them from welcoming me and all the soldiers home; that’s Patriotism. That’s the singularity of the American experience.         

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When you need to get some ones attention or you run out of good material resort to toilet humor. At any rate, it’s a glorified whole in the ground. Western toilets are a luxury now, not essential. Often I’m forced to use the “Turkish” toilet when working with my Iraqi counterparts. It’s difficult. It requires balance and if you look closely you will notice that in Iraq it does not require toilet paper, a serious issue indeed. Well how does one make this work? Well my method, a conclusion I came to through observation and trial and error, is to place my hand on the wall behind the toilet to provide balance. I find that if you center yourself it could prove disastrous; aiming is akin to WWII bomb runs. You could place one done the leg of your pants if you’re not careful.  The position needed to perform nature’s call is a position one finds many Iraqis when they are just hanging out, much like a baseball catcher. After my first attempt at the maneuver I was left wondering how the toilet paper situation worked, I mean it can’t still be the old medieval adage of using your left hand can it? But I took a shallow breath and realized that was what the red pitcher is for. Then it took me a moment to figure out the mechanics of it. The pitchers have a long crooked spout to place the water in just the right place. The pitcher can best be described as an 18^th century baday of sorts. It’s really hard to imagine what disabled people or the elderly must do to be able to use the facilities, but then I’ve seen the handicap bars over here to. To most of the world, this is the way they go to the bathroom. Western toilets are not the norm and if you enjoy traveling you’d better get used to it

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Orginally posted on Jul. 10th, 2008.

I have seen a few things here that anybody else would say that is crazy as hell. I have two examples of this; the first one was when we found a pair of anti-tank mines a few days ago and the second was a yesterday when we where inspecting a blast hole.

Well common sense would say that if you found any explosives to leave it alone and call the bomb squad(EOD), here we had a IA dig both of the anti-tank mines up and carried them in one hand like he was delivering a Pizza on Saturday night. The second was before we go to work we look to make sure that there is no secondary IED that will try to hurt the people that come to repair the hole. We found a wire that might have been another IED. Again common sense would say to leave it alone, the IA start yanking and grabbing at it.

It is not just the IA, I have seen kids looking through dump trucks for anything that they can use while the truck is still moving and a good rate of speed and with out any real concern for the kids safety when turning. I would say that they where moving about 25-30 miles per hour. It was crazy to watch.

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Well I have been active in the past few days. The first was when we went to a Iraqi primary school to help with some needed repairs. It seemed that some of the doors and windows were damaged and broken. We did managed to replace one door and completely re-framed at the same time. But because all of the other doors where metal and built into the building they could not be replaced. We did manage to get some of the windows replaced too. But that is not what made it different this time.

The place that we went too was in a urban environment with the buildings very close to each other. That also meant that there where more people there. Another thing is that none of there where Iraqi army or police. Of course the streets where very busy it being mid day. We where greeted instantly by the kids, who all if which asked for us to give them everything we hand on, from eye wear to gloves. Because of the amount of kids there one or two got away with grabbing stuff off of my vest. I lost a chem. light, lighter and some cigarettes. It was becoming apparent how different that the urban areas where to the rural areas.

The school was gated by brick wall that had some plaster put on it. We had a guy stay in front of the gate to prevent the kids from coming into the school. But to be honest I think that they where more scared of the headmaster and teachers there then of us. The first door we looked at had damages around the door knob and looked like all it would take was a nice kick to break it done. And this was the headmasters office. We turned a 30 minute job in to one that took at least three hours because we kept adding stuff. It is a nice door and all but we are not exactly on TV. To fully understand the dept that went into this door, try to imagine Tool Time in Iraq. Yea it was that bad, but the only difference was that the product was nice and worked.

While we where working, the headmaster asked if we could take a look at another school to see what we could do to help it. The thing that he did not tell us at the start was that someone had put a IED and detonated inside one of the classroom/office rooms. The neighboring rooms had taken such damage that they too where not safely usable. You could see the scaring from where the blast had originated and the area of visible effect was 0-25 feet. There was now way we could do the job and told him to see if he can get a contractor to do the repairs. One thing we asked about the blast was that was this done because it was a girl school. He disagreed saying that the terrorists do not want people to learn on their own.

One topic that came up several times was that the headmaster wanted to see if we could do some projects that would help bring sports to the kids. It was obvious that the boys played soccer, but the girls only played basket ball. But one problem seems to be that the parents are reluctant to have their kids from taking part. I think the headmaster wants to have something of a school team, but because there is money issues it is hard to find people to help out that are not getting paid for their time. But that is one thing that the headmaster wanted because he thought sports are a vital part of a childhood development.

Back at the school, we have a grand total of one door and 5 windows. We could not do much with them because the frames were metal and the hinges where built into the frame. But they where grateful for what work we did do. One of the teachers gave out Iraq cola, which reminded me more of Pepsi. I did have a chance to wonder around with the platoon camera and got some shots of the classrooms. One other teachers was more then happy to show me around. The classrooms where sparse compared to a American counterparts. They did have drawing and coloring from different students there . They would also take paper mashie as use it as a makeshift wall paper to brighten the room up. Some of the things that I noticed; A Dale Hernheart NASCAR paper put on backwards, (it is kind of interesting to seethe word vroom backwards) and a poster of fruits and vegetables in English, a basic diagram of the human how the blood give oxygen to the body in Arabic.

Back out onto the streets with a good majority of the kids still there I over to see what some of our guys in our unit where looking at. Seems that there was a guy there that was rebuilding a small engine and had been doing that for over 20 years. He spoke Spanish and that is how we got most of the information. Now back to the kids. I felt that I was ready to try to deal with them. (It is sure different then talking to Iraqi army guys, police and the older population in general.) I was trying to use what small amount of Arabic I know and that seemed to attract more people. One of my guys looked at me as if to say “ good luck with that”. So I am talking an out of the blue there was this older man that came up behind one of the kids and literally drags him off by his ear. I was not sure what to say to that. By that time I figured I head in to see what was going on. Also everyone had gone inside and neglected to tell me.

We made some plans on what would could do and seem about some things that we where not sure about. One of the last few things that we did before we left was drop off a lot to toys and give some medicine to the teachers. Some of the games that we gave out I have no idea how to play, let alone explain in a different language. With that we made our leave.

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