The Price of Freedom

I figured I'd throw another Apache picture on here since I have a bajillion of them.

David got to meet Aunt Claire (aka "future godmother") this past weekend.

The Task Force patch was worn by those in our battalion who were not in a line company.

Last Easter Suday, April 11th 2004, two Apache pilots gave their lives in combat to save their brothers on the ground who were moving fuel from Baghdad to Fallujah. CW3 Wesley "Chuck" Fortenberry and CW2 Shane Colton left behind families and friends and made the ultimate sacrifice to lay down their lives for others. They are the true heroes of the war and my own words can't express the depth of their deeds and sacrifices. Click here for more pictures and information. Please remember their families this Easter holiday.

He was screaming at first, but he learned to just lie back and enjoy the cleanliness.

Writing on bombs and missiles is as old as the ordnance itself. Cougar is a ground unit we worked with often. They were in every strategic level fight during OIF II as were the Reapers and we became really good at working with each other. We fought together in The Battle for An Najaf and The Battle for Fallujah. One soldier wanted to re-enlist in the front seat of an Apache so I brought his platoon out to the aircraft and let them tag the Hellfires. We later shot this missile at a VBIED in the North Babil province.

My team after 4.5 hours of patrolling Taji. On this mission we took an XP (Experimental Test Pilot) up to get taste of what REAL flying is. He's the one still wearing his gear.

The Apache has a tandem seat cockpit with the Pilot station being the back seat and the Co-Pilot Gunner station being the front seat. Either crewmember can fly the aircraft, in fact both pilots usually split up the mission times pretty evenly. The only difference between the crewstations is that the front-seater has an advanced targeting system for firing missiles and the back-seater starts the aircraft. That's it. You can almost always assume that the PIC (Pilot In Command--most experienced of the two pilots) is the back seater.

After the Battle for Fallujah, we continued to patrol the area. And it was real quiet. Perfect time for a photo op.

This is the alleyway behind the dreaded Haifa Street, a Sunni insurgent stronghold located close to the International Zone in Baghdad. Most of the reports you read about that involve insurgents throwing hand grenades from buildings at passing patrols are from right here. We routinely patrolled this part of Baghdad, even though it was an area from which other (unarmed) aircraft were banned from flying due to surface-to-air fire.

This is one of my favorite pictures from OIF II because it shows how we fought over there. This building is the infamous Baghdad Sheraton. In OIF I, it was mortared and several reporters lost their lives as a result. In this photo, we are cruising down the Tigris River at 125 knots, fifty feet off the ground, dodging buildings, antennas, wires, and towers. FOR SIX TO EIGHT HOURS A DAY. Why you might ask? Let's just say it's safer this way.

I'm sure everyone has seen this in a picture or two: The Crossed Sabers aka Saddam's Victory Parade Field. In the backdrop you can see the Iraqi Tomb of the Unknown Soldier (just under the Apache).

This is what Baghdad looks like on a clear day. Just millions of people all crammed together. I spent many hours looking for bad guys, shooting at bad guys, and getting shot at by bad guys in the city. Its funny to me that I know my way around Baghdad, Iraq better than I know my way around Killeen, TX.

Last night was David's first night in his room in our house. It is so good to have him home. 

Well, today David should be making his way home. He is one week old today and we are very excited to bring him to the house. Last night, we stayed at the hospital with him in a room (not the NICU finally) and it was great. Thank you everyone for all the support and prayers over the last week. Never doubt the power of prayer.

Four days old.

(Noo-mo-media-sty-num) As of RIGHT NOW, this is what the doctors here think David may have. Click here for a quick explanation. If this is the case, then we are very lucky because it will fix itself. In fact after his chest X-ray today, there was already an improved condition. Last night after being told David had something way worse by somebody who I still want to choke out and was definitely not in the loop, Beth and I went to the Chapel here to pray and I know a lot of you out there are praying for us. After some experiences in Iraq and now this, I definitely am a subscriber to the power of prayer. We are very thankful for all that we have been given.

Here's a picture of all the wires attached to our son. It's hard to watch him hooked up to these machines, but we take a lot of comfort in watching how well he is growing and how good he looks.

This has been David's first room since his second day. He has anywhere from five to fifteen wires connected to him at any given time. And the most frustrating part is that he looks and acts so healthy. This morning the cardiologist told us that the clicking noise is gone and that he has signed him off as good to go, but as you can tell from the last post, you never know with this place.

I dont want to exaggerate, but just imagine that your baby is born and it is taken away from you. Then every morning in a city you have never been before, a doctor who you have never seen before tells you that everything looks fine and you should be discharged. After you pack the car up and cancel your hotel reservations, you head back to the hospital to see how your little boy is doing and another doctor who you have never seen before tells you that 1.) your son may still have a debilitating condition, 2.) that he, the doctor, has no idea what that condition is, 3.) that more tests need to be completed, 4.) that you are definitely not leaving tonight, and 5. ) "I'm sorry I can't answer any of your questions, you'll just have to wait to speak to (insert somebody else's name here)." Yeah this happened THREE TIMES. Three times, we breathed sighs of relief and three more times we cried and prayed for our son. Three times we told everyone we would be going home and three times we called back to say that we would be here another night. Three times we had to find another place to stay the night (out of our own pocket of course). This is brutal. All three of us want to go home.

When we finally talked to an authority, the cardiologist, we were informed of a few medical disorders involving a deformed aorta, a meniastal air sac around the heart, and a bicuspid aorta. Needless to say, we were heartbroken at the thought of our baby needing surgery or possibly being restricted from athletics in the future. By the way, I wanted to mention that David ONLY looks at Beth like this. It is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen in my life.

The Ambulance left Fort Hood's Hospital without us because Beth had not yet been discharged (due to her surgery). My wife is pretty tough. She had contractions for 30 hours and THEN she had a Ceaserian. And THEN she was discharged 36 hours early to go be with David. I know for a fact that not many people could handle that. Beth, her parents, and I left as soon as we were able and got to Fort Lackland Air Force Base after a long day.

Okay, so for those of you who aren't updated on the story or aren't clear: The day after David was born, a nurse heard a clicking noise along with his heartbeat. After another nurse, a pediatrician, and a "specialist" listened they all agreed there was a clicking noise and decided to call Wilford Hall Medical Center in San Antonio, TX (3 hours south of Fort Hood). At WHMC, the neo-natal cardiologist thought that the clicking noise, coupled with an anomaly in a blood pressure differential between the legs and the arms, warranted an immediate trip to his hospital for further investigation.

Yeah, we took over 100 pictures today. Can you blame me?