At 'em boys! Give 'er the gun!

Over the past month I've had the opportunity to meet some pretty amazing people. Public Affairs is a bittersweet career field. Its either really awesome or ruining the experience.

For example, most recently, Chad Hennings, former A-10 Thunderbolt II pilot and Dallas Cowboys defensive lineman, came to visit Hickam and did a morale visit to a lot of the squadrons. I spent the day following him around, talking to him, and taking photos.


On the other hand, the Air Force Birthday Ball was on Friday and I didn't particularly care to go. Spending a night all "dressed up" in uncomfortable blues at a formal ceremony where I had to stand at attention for every other person I talk to.. ehh.. not alluring. The Marine Corps Ball on the other hand, open bar and an evening gown; sign me up! Back to my point, I didn't buy a ticket because I didn't want to go. Buuuuut.. since I didn't buy a ticket that left me open to cover the event for the paper. Wooooonderful. (For the record, I made Tyler bring a camera and suffer with me. Misery loves company, right?)


So as I said, PA can sometimes rock, or ruin your day. In my case, recently, it's been amazing more than not.


The list of people I've met is topped by someone that most people have probably never heard of. His name is Brian Kolfage. He's a triple amputee from the Iraq war.


Senior Airman Kolfage lost both of his legs and his right hand when a 107mm rocket landed less than 10 feet in front of him as he walked out of his tent in Ballad. He is wheel chair bound with the most handsome smile you've ever seen, next to my husband of course! He made jokes about his situation, talked candidly about his injuries, showed me pictures from his operation and unscrewed his bionic hand for laughs. His story was incredible, and I feel obliged to tell it.


"I was just going to the gym," he said. "The gym was to the right, but I wanted to get a bottle of water before I went, so I hung a left outside my tent. I had only walked about twenty feet when I heard the rocket. I didn't have time to think though. The sound of the turbine had just registered, I can still hear it in my head. After that, I blacked out.


I woke up a few minutes later on the ground. I didn't know I'd been hurt yet. I could hear people screaming everywhere. I didn't know what had happened though. I was still trying to put it together; the people screaming, the dirt in my mouth, the fact that I was on the ground.. I started to think, oh crap, maybe something happened to me!"


A moment later, Brian's friend ran up and flipped his body over.


"At first, I looked over and saw that my hand was gone. I tried to look down at my legs, but my friend covered my eyes so I couldn't see. People started doing first aid for me while we were waiting for the medics. One guy took his shoelace off and tied it around my wrist to stop the bleeding. People started stuffing towels up into what was left of my legs to stop the bleeding. My friend literally hand up inside of me trying to stop my femoral artery from bleeding out.


When the medics showed up, that's when the pain started to set it. I started yelling at some Airman to give me some pain meds, but he told me they couldn't, because it would thin out my blood too much and I would bleed out.


The last thing I remember was being wheeled into Ballad hospital and passing under this big American flag that was draped across the ceiling."


Doctors immediately operated on Brian and sewed up his right wrist where his hand used to be. There was nothing left of his legs and they had to be amputated at the hip joints.


Brian was medically evacuated to Germany shortly after. His family was called and notified that they should fly to Germany to meet him there, because he wouldn't survive long enough to make it back to the states.


Somewhere along the way and during his flight to Germany, doctors decided that there was hope for Brian and they notified his family to fly to Maryland instead. Brian was treated at Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Bethesda, Md. He spent two months in rehabilitation before he was finally sick of the hospital and begged for out-patient treatment.


"After two months, I got up and started to wander around the hospital. But I never once felt sorry for myself. I saw people that had their faces blown off, their heads caved in and severe burns. I had it easy."


Today, Brian is a newly-wed and a full time architect student. He gets around on his own and leads a mostly independent lifestyle. But of all the things Brian has accomplished since his injury, his attitude was what impressed me the most. He didn't once let his injuries get him down, quite the contrary, he made jokes about it. There wasn't a thing in the world that could've kept him from smiling.


Brian was easily the most incredible person I've met since I've been in the Air Force.

Senior Airman Brian Kolfage and I

Photographing Vice President Joe Bidens visit

On the set of Hawaii Five-0

Terry O'Quinn and I on the set of Hawaii Five-0

The Chief Master Sgt. of the Air Force James Roy and I

Chad Hennings and I

(Former A-10 Thunderbolt II pilot during Desert Storm and Dallas Cowboys defensive lineman... and his three Superbowl rings on my right hand!)

Rip-diddle-ip-tip it's your biiiirthdaaaay!!

Tylers 21st Birthday was Saturday. He tried to play down the fact that he was *REALLY* excited to finally be 21, but I know that's a complete load.

As soon as I found out that I was going to be around for his birthday, I started scheming on how to make it extra special. I finally settled on a surprise party.

I started planning weeks ago how to do it, where, how to keep it from him, etc.

He asked me to plan something for him while he was in Mongolia. As soon as he got back he asked, "So what are we doing for my birthday!??" I had to say, "Uhh.. I'm really sorry babe, I've been so busy I haven't had a chance to even think about it.."

His little face looked so hurt. He looked and sounded like a beaten puppy. I felt so guilty. Like I actually had forgotten to plan him something, but I didn't really!

He'd been bugging me all week after that to plan something, call people and get everything together so he wouldn't have to "look like a loser planning his own party and asking people to hang out with him on his birthday."

Little did he know, I'd already bought him multiple presents, ordered him a Captain America birthday cake, planned a surprise party, and reserved the waterfront clubhouse.

I had everyone either cancel on him last minute or tell him they already had plans when he invited them out himself. (He was really butt-hurt.)

But we went out out to dinner at the Kailua Pub with our friends Mark, Erin and Woodall (Danny) and  he had a few drinks/shots.  Mark came up with a plan to get Tyler back to the house. We told him we were gona go out in Waikiki, but first we were gona take the cars back home to drop them off and take a cab out.  Then we were all gona go out, and get "completely smashed."

Of course Tyler was game.

At first he poked fun at me for Mark taking more time to plan his birthday than I did. I was counting down the minutes until we got back to the house and I could rub it in his face.

Meanwhile, back at my house I left my friend Alex in charge of letting everyone in, parking cars, last minute touches on the decor and informing everyone when to yell, "SURPRISEEEEE!!!"... and when to shoot him with the confetti guns, that my loving mother provided. (Which were a nightmare to clean up I might add.)

At first I was thinking, "Ok.. awesome.. that gets him back to the house, but how do we get him down to the clubhouse without suspecting anything?!"

Well Mark had that planned out too. He had everyone go up to my house for the inital surprise and hide in the dark with all of the lights out.

As we approached the gates, I shot off a quick text to Alex to let her know we were home. We parked and got out and Mark was already waiting for us.. teeetering and loudly exclaiming he had to crap.. *deepsigh*

So he rushed Tyler to the doors and shouted while he fumbled the keys. Tyler finally got the door open and the lights switched on and over 20 people popped out from every corner of the living room, shot him with confetti poppers and scared the hell out of him. It was perfect!

His face was dark red with a hint of purple. He jumped back about a foot and stood there for a minute before it registered.

All I can say, is its a good thing he doesnt pack a gun. I could just picture him doing a shoot out at his own surprise party.

In the end, there was way too much food and beer, Indy wound up in the pool and Tyler didn't puke. I'd call that a success. :)

Gooooooooood morning Ulaanbaatar!

It’s been a while since I’ve written. I figured it was about time for an update!

In a nutshell, Tyler’s home (YAY!) and I’m awaiting a new tasking to deploy (meh.)

Tyler finally got back from Mongolia last weekend. He’s got a million stories and I have to admit I’m jealous of his experiences. Well… most of them anyway. Sleeping on a hard surface, eating food solely boiled in lamb fat, showering with every other nation in an open bay shower and working 14 hours a day, he can keep. ;)

I think one of his favorite stories to tell, is the fermented horses milk story. I’ll do my best to retell it in the way he told me.

He had been in Mongolia for a few days and kept hearing stories about the locals drinking fermented horses milk. So he and a few of the other Marines started asking around about where they could get some. One of the Mongolians loaded them up and took them to a ger (the round house tents Mongolians live in) and when they got out, there were farm animals running all around, and all the kids gathered around the truck to see them.

He said they went into the tent and one of the Mongolians filled this kettle full of lumpy, smelly milk (that still had HORSE HAIR floating in it. BARF.) and started heating it up. Eventually, the lumpy, smelly, hairy milk was warm and he poured it into a bowl for them to drink.

At this point, Tyler’s thinking, “ok.. cool. We have one bowl full, we each take a sip, pass it around and we’re done.” Wrong.

Their translator informs them they have to drink the entire massive kettle full of hairy milk.

Meanwhile, one of the Mongolian mothers, whips out her boobs in the middle of the room and starts breast feeding this butt-naked baby.

Tyler said it got really awkward at that point and all of the Marines immediately diverted their eyes to the floor and started concentrating on not snickering, like little kids, at the naked lady and baby. They continued to pass the bowl and worked on putting away the hairy horse milk so they could finish it and  leave.

No sooner had she started feeding the baby, it let out this “massive, projectile, liquid shit (these are Tyler’s words mind you..) that shot, no joke, three feet across the room.”

The lady and baby are covered in it and she gets up to go outside and clean off.

So now they’re all looking at each other like, “WTF. It smells, there’s crap everywhere, let’s GO.”

As they’re leaving, they’re informed that it’s custom for visitors to give the baby money. Not, give the parents money for the baby, but literally hand the baby the money.

So as they were on their way out, they were all tucking dollar bills into the babies clothing.

Tyler said it was coming out of his sleeves, his collar, his diaper, etc. And in Tyler’s words, “he looked like a little baby Lil’ Wayne. He was big pimpin’.”

He wanted to take a photo, but was worried about offending someone.

Now, my other favorite story from his trip was Bush getting drug by a horse.

Before I sound mean for saying it’s my favorite, I’d like to add that he’s *mostly* uninjured.

Bush is one of Tyler’s friends that’s stationed with him at Camp Smith. He’s a little bit younger and just got here from MOS school a few months ago.

So one of the days they were there, they had the opportunity to ride horses. The Mongolians are sort of funny about telling you they want their turn though. They’ll just jump on right behind you and kind of push you off the horse. It’s a very subtle message.

So Bush is out there riding around and laughing, having a good ol’ time.

At some point, a Mongolian came up behind Bush on the horse and spooked the horse. It freaked out and sort of took off running, and then slowed back down. Bush got this freaked out look on his face and tried to jump off when it slowed back down.

However, when he made his getaway, he forgot one important aspect to dismounting your horse; remove your foot from the stirrup.

As Bush jumped down, his foot got caught and the horse took off. Bush was drug for about 200+ meters, kicked between the legs, kicked in the leg, has a bruised rear, back and groin. He’s missing patches of skin from his back, forearms and hands.

The best part? It was all captured on video.

Gunny Holly, Tyler’s gunny at MARFORPAC, began filming the initial ride and ended up capturing the drag too.  The audio was removed from the video, but had it been there, you could hear him laughing and cussing up a storm. Initially anyway. At first it was more of an, “OH! Crap!! Hahaha.. “ and then it turned into.. “ooooh.. crappp.. uhh.. “ Except his language was a little more explicit. So… use your imagination.

Like I said, Bush escaped without any life threatening injuries. Just a really sore rear end.

Anyway, that’s enough for now. More pictures to come soon!

Rewind and Press Play

So my deployment got delayed again. Various reasons really, but bottom line, I'll be home for at least another month.


It's typical of the military to go back and forth with these types of things. In the past 8 months alone, I was supposed to go to Japan for relief efforts, Washington, Thailand, Cambodia and Afghanistan. Every single one got cancelled. All of them for one thing or another, but the back and forth is to be expected in the military. We're always told, "you're not going and it's not one-hundred percent until you're boots are on the ground."


I won't lie. It toys with my mental stability. One of these days I'm just going to snap and show up to work naked and just be typing away at my desk like nothings wrong or something. I'm not complaining, but its tiresome.


I finally talked to Tyler, who is still in Mongolia. We really only got to talk for like five minutes on Facebook chat, but I'll take what I can get. He's having a blast working with all the different countries and seeing how their military operates. I think they all traded off weapons at some point, he got to shoot an (old) automatic AK-47 that belongs to the Mongolian Army. He also mentioned something about drinking fermented horse milk(???) with some villagers in a tent. He said it was disgusting. They hiked twenty miles up a mountain to a small village to get some vodka that night. (After drinking fermented horse milk, I'd want some too. ...But I would just wait at the bottom and make him bring it back for me.)


Only 9 more days until he comes home though! It should go by quick.


On another note,  I was sitting at the Wright Brothers Cafe on base this morning having breakfast and a submarine on its way out of Pearl Harbor passed by! So naturally, I stood in front of it and took a picture. :)

Green Light...

I got my "words of wisdom" brief from my lieutenant this afternoon.


Lt. Smith has been in the Air Force for 17 years. He initially started out enlisted, got all the way up to the rank of tech. sgt. and then crossed over to the officer side. He's been on a few Army deployments and had some..encouraging..words for me.


He said, "The Army is a different breed. They're crude, they're dirty and often times unprofessional. There's a good possibility you'll be the only female in your unit. Just don't let them give you shit or treat you inappropriately."


-.- Awesome.


He also told me that grunts don't give a rats ass about public affairs or photography. He said they'll probably give you tasks to do that aren't in your job description or that you don't want to do. But it's best not to argue. Oh! And to be sure not to confuse their first sergeants with Air Force first sergeants..


Our first sergeants are nice approachable people that are high enough in the chain of command, that if you have problems with someone, you can always go talk to them. You can call them any time, day or night and they are there to take care of their people. Army first sergeants are apparently only their to rip new ones in people and get down to business.


Soooooo... the summary of his advice was, they'll treat you like crap, hit on you and give you shit, but don't take it. Annnnnnd.. don't talk to their first sergeants, don't complain and don't call anyone "sir." Army enlisted hate being called... sir.


SIDE NOTE: I got yelled at quite a bit when I was stationed at Fort Meade for tech school. Its a DOD school, so all services attend, but Army primarily has control of the base. And God help you if you called an enlisted soldier, "sir." The typical response was, "I'm not a SIR! I work for a living!! I am a SERGEANT." ("Sir" is apparently reserved for officers only in the Army.) And my usual response was,"Yes. Sorry siiiiiiiirr----arrgennt.." It's like when someone tells you to quit apologzing and you say sorry again.


Anyway, SSDD.


On a lighter note, here are some pictures I finally got around to downloading! Enjoy. :)

Losing my much-ness

This morning I had to drop Tyler off at the airport. He's heading to Mongolia for two weeks and by the time he gets back, I'll be at Fort Dix for combat skills training. It really sucked and kind of ruined my day. It hasn't quite set in yet that I really won't see him for the rest of the year.


I was crying when I drove away, took the wrong exit and got on the freeway going the opposite direction that I needed to be.


But I had to laugh thinking about how far we'd come in the past two years.


I thought about the first time I saw Tyler. We were at Fort Meade, Md., and I was doing the combat camera portion of my class where we went out to a remote area of the base, slept in tents and treated it like a deployed environment.


The first thing we had to do, after we rucked a few miles in to the woods, was "invade an Iraqi village and search the citizens."


Often times,  after troops would arrive to Ft. Meade, they wouldn't pick up class right away. So they were sort of stuck in limbo. Tyler was a M.A.T. (Marine awaiting training) so he volunteered to play an Iraqi villager in our field training exercise.


So our class split up in to teams and prepared to ambush the village. We snuck through the bushes and ran through the clearings one at a time until we were all grouped and poised to run, screaming at the camp with our M-16s.


We rounded up the "villagers", which was really about six Marines, and put them on their faces at gun point. They all pretended to not understand english or a word we were saying as we yelled at them. Cute.


Once we had them on the ground, one person stood with their weapon pointed directly at the Marine while another one of us patted them down.


I stuck the muzzle of my M-16 in Tyler's face and yelled at him not to move.


Divine intervention occurred that day.


After we searched them, our instructors told us that we were to, "make friends with the Iraqis. Offer them food, medical attention or anything else they might need."


I jabbed Tyler in the gut with my M-16 and asked him if he was hungry.


The rest as they say, is history.


I have a couple photos from our "raid" that day. We were still learning to run and take pictures simultaneously, so no ones photos turned out spectacular. But I do have one of  Tyler face down in the gravel. The photo also includes a dear friend of mine, who Tyler and I are also stationed with here in Hawaii, Reece Lodder.


Lodder was also tasked to deploy to Afghanistan this year with 3/3, a Marine infantry unit.


After some long reflection that lasted the entire day, everything has sunken in a little bit more. I'm a little more excited each day to go and it gets a little easier to leave. After all, being stationed apart for more than a year makes us old salty veterans at saying, "bye babe, see you soon."

Red Light..

This past week I was blessed with an extra week and a half to spend at home. While the circumstances aren't ideal, I'll take whatever time I can get.


I had a bit of trouble getting medically cleared to deploy due to some vertigo episodes I've had the past few months. I get so dizzy and sick that its easily comparable to the worst drunk feeling you've ever had. The room spins, the floor wobbles, my vision slows and when I get goin' really good, I puke.


I spent a long afternoon at Tripler Army Medical about 3 weeks ago. They ran all sorts of blood tests and did a CT scan, but couldn't find anything wrong with me. The problem persists, but since there is no pinpointed cause, they can't hold me here. But just to be sure, I went back to Tripler to nuke my brain one last time to make sure nothing has changed since the last scan.


I've got my final medical clearance appointment coming up to finalize everything. Wish me luck!

Nothing makes a person more productive than the last minute.

U.S. Army General George S. Patton once said, "All men are afraid in battle. The coward is the one who lets his fear overcome his sense of duty. Duty is the essence of manhood."


Nearly a week and a half ago, I was tasked to deploy to Afghanistan in a moments notice. And while I am not man, nor do I expect to see much of "battle" while I am deployed, I will openly admit that I'm still scared. I'm not so much scared for my well being or safety, though that does play a part, but just scared of the unknown.


Like many Joint Expeditionary Tasked (JET) Airmen, I have no idea what I'll be doing in Afghanistan once I get there. It's been hard to set my expectations because I don't know what to think.


A JET Airman is essentially someone who is pulled from another service to fill an Army manning vacancy.


I've been told that I'll be doing my job as a photographer and writer, just as an Airman attached to an Army unit. I've also been told that I won't have anything to do with public affairs, and that I'll just be training the Afghan National Army. It's hard to say, as both are strong possibilities.


In the coming months I'm more worried about my husband having to wear his "big boy pants" and pay the bills by himself. I'm worried about my dog, Indy, my cat, Kitty (she did have a name, but it just.. morphed into.. Kitty..) and my little betta fish, Blue. (Blue has been alive for 8 months!!! I've never kept a fish alive more than 24 hours! Tough little bugger even jumped out of his bowl once and laid on the counter for about 20 minutes before I came in and freaked out and threw him back in his water.)
But back on topic..


My husband and I have prayed hard and so have our friends, family and church congregation back home. I've decided that God, for whatever reason, wants me to go and has a plan. It's hard to see it now while I can't help but make a mental list of all the things I'm going to miss. Things I had planned on being here for and had looked forward to for sometime, like Tyler's birthday, the Marine Corps Ball, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year, etc.

But nevertheless, it's my duty, my responsibility and my pleasure to serve everyday as I do.

As for right now, I'm off to spend my last couple days scooping cat turds out of the litter box, doing laundry, yelling at the dog and cooking for my husband a few last times. :)

How quickly we forget not to take it all for granted.