Merry Christmas From Bucca

   Steve frequently finds himself rambling on in a stream-of-consciousness style (and occasionally in the third person, apparently). Whilst it may seem to be the aimless meanderings of an over-taxed mind, if you stick with it for a while, a couple of things might happen:

#1 You might find yourself amused.

#2 He occasionally makes a point.

Holidays in Bucca . . . .

   There are a few ways to think about this topic (all are almost equally depressing). It seems like life here is on "Hold." It's almost like someone paused the movie of my life to go mow the lawn. Oddly enough, everyone else in it is still moving around. Time here has less meaning, and the calendar is simply an obscure connection to a world in which things change depending on the day and it's important to keep track of what day it is. Fall came and went, and I didn't even notice. Suddenly, it was Thanksgiving, and now Christmas. I know that these things are going on, but there's no real connection. I'll come home in the Spring and try to start living again, and I'm sure I'll wonder what happened to 6mos of my life . . . .

   Someone once asked me if they have the Fourth of July in Britain. The obvious answer to anyone even remotely familiar with history would be, "No." This is, of course, preposterous. They absolutely have the fourth of July in Britain. It comes right after the third - only it seems to pass with little to no fanfare.

   Are there Holidays in Bucca? Of course. We had Thanksgiving. I cancelled the OR - no elective cases. There was an enormous spread in the DFAC including most all Thanksgiving favorites plus some interesting additions - lobster tail? For all of the hype surrounding that fourth Thursday in November and the importance of togetherness that Families throughout the United States assign it, it was little more than another day in Bucca. The day after the fourth Wednesday. With better food.

   Surely, Christmas must demand some degree of recognition! Yes, I presume it does. There was a Christmas Eve Mass held in the Chapel which I attended. Several dozen desperate soulsc crowded into the Chapel and lifted their feeble voices up to Heaven in a meager attempt to squeeze whatever Christmas Spirit they could from the evening. In one sense, Christmas is more pure here. There really is no commercialization of the day. It is celebrated for what it is - the birth of Jesus. And, just like in Seuss's How the Grinch Stole Christmas:

It came without ribbons! It came without tags!

  It came without packages, boxes, or bags!

And he puzzled three hours 'til his puzzler was sore.

Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before!

"Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store.

Maybe Christmas . . . perhaps . . . means a little bit more!"

   And so, it is here. Christmas in Bucca. I can't say that I've avoided the hype entirely - I do, after all, have a giant 7-ft inflatable snowman on top of my POD. And, for those who sent packages, boxes, and bags, Thank You very much! While it seems more widely recognized and embraced than Thanksgiving was, it has yet to be more than another day in Bucca. Oddly enough, it's the fourth Thursday in December. While the above might seem like mature insights, don't be fooled. Though I am closer to Bethlehem than I've ever been in my life, I've never felt further from Christmas.

   While the true meaning of Christmas is something more spiritual, I think most people welcome the Holiday Season as a time of gathering. With family in all four time zones, it seems the only time we're ever all together. So, to my family - Mother, Father, David, Michael, and Kim (and however many Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, and other relatives are gathered), and to my wife and daughter, Merry Christmas from Bucca!

   

   Now, I'm off to have some Roast Beast.

BuccaSpace

I know, I know.  It's been too long. Kind of like waiting for the new season of Lost to get started. I guess I could always blame it on a writer's strike, or something.

I will now attempt to fill my reading audience in on everything new that has happened since my last update over a month ago.

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And, that's about it, folks.

I thought, perhaps, that I'd ramble about a few observations that I and my colleagues have made. It all started one night when we were watching Office Space. I have seen this movie twice before, and I remember it being entertaining. But, now I see beyond the hilarity of its dry wit and off-the-wall antics. I can understand the almost universal appeal of this film. Save for the retired, unemployed, or self-employed we all know every character in the movie. They're in the cubicle next to us, or the corner office down the hall. Indeed, every character in the movie exists on FOB Bucca in some incarnation or other. Well, all but Jennifer Anniston's character. And she is sorely missed....

There are many Lumberghs running around. I am not really at liberty to delve into specific instances, suffice it to say that my fellow Providers and I frequently find ourselves casting bewildered gazes at each other and saying, "Ummmmm, Yeah.... We're gonna need you to just go ahead and, uh, . . . . . . ___________"

We have our "Pieces of Flair." 

My favorite is the IBA. The Army refers to it as the Individual Body Armor. I think it actually stands for Individual Burden, Asinine. Don't get me wrong, I wholeheartedly believe in the effectiveness of this product. I've seen how devastating injuries can be without it, and I've seen it save lives. The lives of our boys and girls who roll out beyond the wire in armored vehicles kicking down doors and taking fire and dodging IEDs. The IBA is an invaluable asset in a combat environment. While I'm technically in a combat zone, the closest thing I've seen to combat is a really heated Ping Pong game. Nevertheless, on my trek into and out of the hospital, I must wear my IBA. I really feel safer as a result.

My other favorite is the reflective PT belt. Now this makes TOTAL SENSE. There is a small amount of vehicular traffic out on the LSA. In an effort to make myself more visible to this traffic, and therefore immune to being run over, I am required to wear a reflective belt. But only when in PTs. If wearing the standard Army ACU, no reflective belt is required. Let's think about this.....

The Army spent a lot of money (probably millions) to completely re-design the combat uniform and create a pattern which will effectively camouflage its wearer in a variety of environments - including the desert. It is a tactical uniform, and one key purpose is to allow its wearer to more effectively blend into his/her surroundings thus LIMITING VISIBILITY TO OTHERS such an enemy combatant (or perhaps, even the unwitting driver of an SUV). 

The Army also spent a lot of money (probably millions) to completely re-design the PT uniform. Granted, one impetus for this was that they wanted soldiers to have a stylish get-up that they'd be proud to wear as opposed to the old 1970's version that I'm pretty sure JJ from Good Times had a few sets of. But, they additionally took advantage of fantastic new technological developments and incorporated reflective logos and striping into the new uniform. That's right, the uniform itself has reflective print on it. Built in. In the design. Right there, permanently adherent to the very cloth of the uniform is a big-ass "A" on the back and the word "Army" on the front. Integrated.

I understand completely why there is no reflective material on the ACU. That's not really my question. My question is this:  Why, then, when I need to get up at 2:00am to go pee and I'm wearing my PT uniform with its inherent reflective properties am I required to don my reflective belt? However, at 7:30pm when I'm walking along a road with relatively frequent traffic as I'm making my way back from the hospital after taking out another appendix and I'm wearing my uniform which allows me to blend in with the environment, there is no requirement to wear anything to make me more visible to the SUVs, busses, and Polaris vehicles passing by. Perhaps it's because I'm wearing my IBA, and that will prevent injury in the event of an impact......

This is, possibly, the world's saddest camel. And not simply because I'm sitting on it. The real point here is - notice the bright blinding reflection of the flash from the shirt and also from the shorts. Contrast this highly visible reflective print to photos in previous posts of Steve in ACUs. Note there, the conspicuous absence of any reflective area.