TDY to Romania

Sunday 28 February 2010
1700

I had expected to spend last Sunday hiking in Germany, as I had done several times since my arrival. When I got to work on Thursday morning, however, I was in for a surprise. My boss pulled me into his office and said “I’m sorry to have to do this to you, but I need you to go to Romania on extended TDY (temporary duty). You need to be there on Monday morning.” It seems that the hiring of the civilian DPW (Director of Public Works) had been delayed, and they needed somebody to go there and take things in hand. The plan, as explained to me, was to rotate people down there to cover the DPW office until we could get the permanent people hired and in place. These rotations would last a month (actually 29 days) due to rules governing the assignment of Reservists away from the primary duty station for which we were mobilized.

This was a bombshell for several reasons. First of all, it was very sudden and unexpected. I had a two-day trip already planned to Romania to familiarize myself with our installations there for purposes of my regular job, but a two-day trip is a whole lot different than a month. Since I was already scheduled for an all-day staff officer’s orientation class on Friday (which was now more important than ever to attend), this essentially gave me one work day to prepare. It was also an unwelcome surprise because it is not what I was led to believe my assignment here would entail. People do get sent on extended TDY, but I had let them know that after three years in the desert, this was essentially my “dwell time” back in a normal environment. They had understood, and had given me an assignment that did not involve extended TDY. I was just getting settled and getting used to things like having a car and a real apartment and some freedom to do things, and now I was to be ripped away from all that again to live out of a footlocker and a rucksack in a single barracks room in BFE. To top it off, I already had an approved, signed DA31 (Leave form) for mid-March, and my girlfriend had already bought non-refundable airline tickets to come over for a trip to Switzerland with me. So this was a very disappointing way to start the day.

It took me a little while to wrap my head around it, but I got my stuff together and got organized to go. I needed to get orders, schedule a flight for Sunday, make sure my Army laptop was ready (I hadn’t even had it out of the docking station yet), etc., etc. Fortunately I had already taken care of almost all the personal kinds of things that make extended TDY manageable (e.g., a local bank account, automatic payment of my internet and phone bills, etc.). I had just gotten that squared away a couple days before. So Thursday was a very frenetic day, not least of all due to the fact that I was trying to get some clarification on just exactly how long I’d be there and what I’d be expected to do. Since everyone was running around with their hair on fire preparing to brief the General on some other high-visibility issues, I got short shrift and was pretty much on my own to figure it out.

This episode gets back to the subject of one of my earlier posts, “Alone and Adrift in the Army”. The bottom line is that the active component of the Army looks at us Reservists serving on active duty as essentially temporary soldiers, sort of like the corporate world looks at contract employees. Like chess pieces on a board, they have a tendency to pick us up and stick us where they want us with little regard for how it affects our personal lives or longer range plans – we are just expected to shut up and go there. Now, to be fair, this is a part of the military ethic, and all soldiers are expected to serve as required, and they do so, quite often under very austere and difficult circumstances. “Mission First” is a very strong part of the Army value system, and I embrace that value. But it’s also important to have a balance and get some time to recharge your batteries, and being a Reservist on extended active duty leads to some real inequities. The problem stems from the fact that while Active Component soldiers are on rotations between deployments and so-called “dwell time” (time at home station with their families), Reservists on active duty are basically regarded as available for whatever, whenever. I think they look at us with the assumption that our dwell time is at home, after we get off active duty and go back to our civilian jobs. That’s the way the force is managed for traditional Reservists who do their weekend drills and annual training, and maintain regular civilian jobs. The Army is now saying that Reserve and National Guard soldiers can expect to deploy for one year out of every five year cycle.

That works fine for the traditional Reservist. But for people like me who are moving from tour to tour without demobilizing, the system breaks down. Since we never get any time at home (I don’t even have a “home” per se anymore – my stuff is all either in storage or in Heidelberg), there is no dwell time in the traditional sense. So if you want to have something approximating dwell time and a more normal life, you have to do what I did, and try to find a tour that does not involve deployments. That’s what I thought I had done, and the way it was represented to me at the outset. So much for that!

So I found myself walking a tightrope between living up to the Army value system of “Mission First”, wanting to be a team player and help get the job done, and looking out for myself and my family, ensuring that we are able to follow through on plans we have made for summer visits, etc. My fear was that if I did not speak up right then and there, I’d be shuffled off to Buffalo and not be in a position to get myself back to Germany. So I did speak up, which made for some tense moments on Thursday and Friday, because different people in the directorate had different ideas of how long they were planning to send me for. Because part of the problem is continuity, they would prefer to send me there until they find someone permanent. This would, however, wreak havoc on my personal life and be extremely disappointing to me. Fortunately for me my immediate supervisor understands, and the so-called “29 day rule” works in my favor as a limiting factor.

As it turns out, we have a sort of uneasy compromise. They approved my amended leave request for April, and I will travel back and forth for more than one iteration to try to provide some continuity until the expected arrival of the permanent civilian employee. This can’t last forever (at least from my point of view), but it works for now. I don’t mind saying that I was pretty unhappy all last weekend. I was able to put it into perspective by reminding myself that nobody is shooting at me or trying to blow me up, which is more than many of my compatriots can say. Nonetheless, I didn’t really settle down and get my head straight until the challenges of the job absorbed my attention after I’d arrived. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

During the day on Thursday I had focused on the things I needed to do from a work standpoint to be prepared to leave for an extended period. That night at home I started preparing for the personal aspects of it. I had been focused on moving in and settling down with my recently-delivered household goods, many of which are still in the moving boxes. Now I had to shift gears and become “expeditionary” again. So I dragged out a duffel bag, a footlocker and a backpack, and started gathering things together as well as thinking about preparing my apartment and car for my extended absence.

I had been on the verge of ordering refills for my various vitamins and nutritional supplements. Fortunately I had just enough to pack for a month, although I fell short on one tablet by a few days. There were a lot of other little details like that to take care of, not to mention calling my girlfriend and breaking the bad news. That phone call was no fun. She took it ok, but like me, it took her some time to come to grips with it. I’d had the whole day to absorb it and was partly over the anger and frustration, and was more in “deal with it” mode. She naturally needed some time to go through the same process. But she was very good about it, which was what I had expected based on what I’ve learned about how she thinks. It was a good exercise for the two of us to go through together – dealing with a disappointment and working through to what we hoped would be a viable alternative plan.

On Friday I went to the USAREUR Action Officer’s orientation course, as planned. This is an all-day session intended to introduce new staff officers to USAREUR’s history, mission, force structure, and staff procedures. It’s important to go to it in any case, but now that I was going to be in a remote location and still be expected to get things done, it was critical. Up until now I had been able to just walk into someone’s office and ask “How do we do this?” or “Who should I call for this information?”, but now I need to be able to do things on my own with much more tenuous support. It was a very valuable day, and was time well spent. I packed all the class materials (phone book, org charts, examples of staff action documents) right in with the rest of my work stuff for the trip. (I failed to mention that this new assignment is in addition to my regular duties, which do not stop. I will be expected to continue to stay on top of my regular job from afar while holding down this new temporary one in Romania. Yay.)

I got back around 1600 Friday afternoon, and had just enough time for some last-minute staff coordination before COB. Then I was on my own to finish getting ready to fly Sunday morning. One thing I was very thankful for was that in the course of the day (I think during the lunch break from class) I had asked one of the other officers if the little PX on the base in Romania sold laundry detergent, thinking I might have to take my own supply. The reply was a surprise: “There aren’t any washers and dryers there – you have to use a laundry service that comes twice a week. You turn it in on Monday and get it back on Friday.” Holy crap! That was kind of important to know! Normally I’d only travel with about four sets of underwear and two uniforms, and plan to do a small load of laundry every two or three days. Now, in order to ensure I didn’t run out and still had clothes in case of a delay or loss (not unknown with Quartermaster laundry service), I had to take all ten sets of underwear and at least one extra uniform. My packing list was growing.

I packed some minimal civilian clothes, and included some of the things I normally take on my weekend hikes, hoping to be able to spend some time exploring the Romanian countryside. I also took along some of the little comfort things you like to have in your room, although it was hard to know exactly what they would and would not have – there just wasn’t time to think of all the questions, much less ask them. So I did the best I could. I had to put my mail on hold – I couldn’t forward it because I had several packages already on the way (including some large ones with side steps and floor mats for my Jeep) that would not make sense to have in Romania. But it’s an all-or-nothing thing, so now I can’t get mail forwarded here. (Side note – every single day since arriving, I’ve gotten a note from the mail room that a new box has arrived).

On Saturday I went into downtown Heidelberg to look for a Romanian phrase book. There was nothing in the PX, and I didn’t have time to go to Ramstein Air Base, so I looked in the German stores. It was quite a hunt, but I was finally successful. I found a Langenscheidt’s “Sprachfuehrer Rumaenisch” (phrase book like Berlitz) as well as a travel guide (Dumont – “Richtig Reisen”). I spent a long time at the store comparing a National Geographic travel guide with the Dumont, and chose this one because it has better maps and a better system for describing travel via alternative modes (e.g. trains). I also liked the way it was organized into regions. I am fortunate that my German is good enough that I can use the German-to-Romanian phrase book and the German travel guide with very little trouble. It’s interesting, though, reading the travel advisories and so forth, because it’s all about what is “normal” for a German, and what they should expect in Romania. Same with the phrase book. It make for an interesting two-step thought process, which would be much less satisfactory if I didn’t already speak fluent German and have such a strong sense of being at home in Germany. I don’t know if I’ll get much chance to travel on the weekends, but at least I’m prepared just in case.

Saturday afternoon and evening were spent making final preparations – making sure I was completely packed, throwing out all perishable food, filling my Jeep with gas, etc. etc. WAPITA. But I got it all done. Sunday morning the taxi was there at 0730 sharp to take me to the Frankfurt Airport for my flight (you know the sign actually says “Airport” now, instead of “Flughafen”? There are a lot more English words used in everyday German conversation than I remember from 25-30 years ago. But that’s a subject for later.)

I had two options when I booked my flight to Romania. I’m outside the city of Constanta on the Black Sea. It has an airport, and the local US Deputy Commander (a civilian) had said I should fly in and out of there. Talking to people at the office, however, made me think that wasn’t a very attractive option. To get there from Frankfurt, you fly to Munich, then to Timisoara, then to someplace called Sibiu, then to Constanta. At some point along there you switch to a puddle-jumper aircraft. That gives lots of opportunities for delays and lost luggage. The alternative was to fly directly to Bucharest, Romania, and then take a 3 hour cab ride to Constanta. I chose that option as the more reliable of the two.

Getting through security in Frankfurt was really a trip. I checked my bags, which turned out to be overweight. So I had to go upstairs and pay a fee at a different counter, and get my boarding pass there. My newly-issued Government Travel Credit Card did not work, but was turned down (later I found out that although it had been issued and I had activated it, the administrative steps at our command level to acknowledge the activation and route the funds from our unit budget had not been completed yet because it was so new). So I had to pay out of pocket, and will be reimbursed later. After that I headed for security.

Everything was going fine until the guy at the scanner held up my Zippo lighter and said it couldn’t go. I knew that, of course, but I just overlooked it in my rush to pack (fortunately I had no knives – they were in my checked baggage). I told them to just toss it out, but they said they couldn’t, since it contains “hazardous materials”. They told me I had to go back out, dispose of it myself, then come back through security. I tried to see if there wasn’t some other option, but they were quite firm – they could not accept it or dispose of it, and I could not take it with me. I tried to reason with them that there wasn’t enough time – but since I absolutely had to take it out myself, could I leave my bags there so I didn’t have to go through all that again? No. I had to take my bags back out with me. OK, then, can I at least not have to wait in line when I come back? No, you have to wait in line. Aw, come on! There’s no time for that. FINALLY, the guy told me to take the lighter and go with him. They took me around the corner to another station, where somebody quite routinely and matter-of-factly had me fill out a form. The people in front of me had a Zippo and were filling out a form, too. As it turns out, they CAN take possession of it and either dispose of it, or hold it for me to claim later. They just don’t want to do it, and did everything possible to discourage me. My persistence (some might say intransigence) paid off, and I’ll get my Zippo back when I return.

Once that little drama was over with, I headed for my gate. I had forgotten that I’d have to go through security again at the gate, but I had time. I was thirsty, though, and wanted a Coke and a bottle of water. The last time I went through Frankfurt there was a concession inside the gate that sold sandwiches and drinks, but I didn’t see it. I asked, and they told me it was gone. They said I could buy it in the store downstairs and have the attendant heat-seal it in a bag, and they’d let me bring it in. That seemed reasonable, so I went in search of the store that sold Coke and bottled water. I found it, made my selections, and asked the lady to seal them in a bag. She got an exasperated look on her face and said she could not do that, nor could anyone else at the airport. I told her that the gate attendants had told me that’s what I had to do, and it was obvious from her attitude that this was not the first time this had happened. So I cut my purchase down to one Coke, drank it outside the gate, and then went in. Once I got in there I saw there was a vending machine for bottled water and Coke. (Thanks for telling me, people.) I waited around awhile and we boarded the plane.

It was a Boeing 737, and it wasn’t full, so I had elbow room and a decent flight. I watched a movie on my iPod (“The Clock” with Judy Garland, about a soldier on leave who falls in love and gets married. It was a bit implausible and forced at times, but enjoyable and had its moments). The landing in Bucharest was uneventful. I got my luggage, found the taxi driver waiting with a sign that my name on it, and we were off.

The ride to Contanta was interesting. Actually, our destination was a village called Mihail Kogalniceanu (MK for short), about 25 km north of Constanta. That’s where the Romanian Air Base and Army Base that we are working on are located. This part of the country is mostly flat, as it is largely an alluvial plain. The Danube Delta, one of Europe’s most important ecological areas, is just to the north. I will leave my detailed impressions of Romania for later entries, but I’ll say here that it is definitely *not* Germany. The economy is much smaller and the country and its citizens are generally less wealthy, and it shows. I do think that a good part of the reason it seemed so stark and barren is that it’s winter, and that during summer when things are green it is probably a lot prettier. But even natural greenery won’t put paint on the buildings, take the rust off the metallic surfaces, or clean up the trash. But again, more detail later.

We got to the air base, had a little delay while we found the officer who had the key to my room, and I got my luggage inside. We took a quick walk-around so I’d have a general orientation of where to go in the morning, and then I went to the MWR building to get on their wireless internet for awhile until I got sleepy. (My room now has a hard-wired internet connection, but it wasn’t set up the night I got here.)

So, I had arrived in Romania for my new temporary duty. A lot has happened during the ensuing week, but that and my impressions (and photographs) of Romania will have to wait for another entry. This unaccustomed burst of blogging after a long hiatus has me in the same (purported) condition as the parrot in Monty Python’s pet shop sketch – “tired and shagged out after a long squawk”. ;-)

Mood: Hungry (Oh, wait – that’s the cheese shop sketch…)
Music: Billy Idol (playlist)

Sundays in Germany

26 February 2010
2300

I was originally going to call this “A Tale of Two Sundays” and start it off with: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times”. But then a third Sunday came and went, and now I’m approaching the sixth Sunday and still haven’t made the entry. Everything has changed, and I want to write about the changes, but first comes the entry I’ve been putting off for weeks, and tomorrow or the next day I’ll write an update about this past week.

The “best of times/worst of times” reference was intended to be a wry (albeit tongue-in-cheek) comment on an interesting aspect of life in Germany. One of the best things about Germany is that people love to walk outdoors, and so there are hiking paths all over the place. But one of the worst things about Germany is that people love to walk outdoors, so there are *people* all over the walking paths. For a hiker and backpacker who cherishes silence and solitude, this takes some getting used to. And I’ve had several opportunities to get used to it, as I spent the next three Sundays after my Jeep excursion hiking in the mountains around Heidelberg.

The first time I went out was on 24 January. It was a crisp winter day, but without much snow. I went to the north of Heidelberg, on the other side of the Neckar River. There’s a famous path called the Philosophenweg (Philosopher’s Way) that goes along the north side of the river for miles. I parked right at the beginning of this path, which is in town, and started up. Very soon, though, I took a detour up an interesting-looking path that led up a mountain (well, these “mountains” might really better be called “hills” – they’re not exactly Alpine but they are small mountains – steep and mostly wooded. This particular mountain is called the “Heiligenberg” (Holy Mountain). It turned out that there were a lot of really interesting things up there.

The first one was this tower commemorating Otto von Bismarck (“The Iron Chancellor”). He was responsible for the unification of Germany in the late 1800’s and for the creation of the beginnings of the modern German state. I thought he must have had some connection with Heidelberg, as there is also a Bismarckplatz with a statue of him in the center of town. But a little research showed that there were at least a couple hundred “Bismarcktuerme” and “Bismarcksauele” – he was a popular object of monument-building.

http://www.bismarcktuerme.de/website/ebene1/indexenglisch.html



Bismarckturm Heiligenberg

Many of the pictures of Bismarcktuerme on the website show the top with a huge flame on it, including at least one historical picture of this one. It reminded me of the beacons of Gondor in "The Lord of the Rings". I suspect that's why it's high on a mountain, and I also suspect that the beacon feature of the monument may have some symbolism connected with his role in unifying the various smaller German states into the Deutsches Reich (German Empire, and also sometimes referred to as the "Second Reich"). I climbed up inside to look at the view, which was cool.

Then a bit further up the mountain, I came upon a huge open-air amphitheater. It turns out it was built by the Nazis as a propaganda tool. They apparently built (or planned to build) over 400 of these around the country. It has 8,000 seats and standing room for 5,000 more. It languished for many years after the fall of the Third Reich, but in the late 1980’s it was put back into use. I think it will be really cool to go to some kind of outdoor concert or program there.



Freilichtbuehne "Thingstaette" - the view from the bottom on the stage.



Freilichtbuehne "Thingstaette" - the view from the top.



Freilichtbuehne "Thingstaette" - diagram explaining the history.


A bit further up I came to some ruins, which included this sign with a synopsis of the history of the site:



It says: “The Heiligenberg has been settled since about 1000 BC. There are Celtic and Roman structures, a Franconian cemetery, an 8th Century castle, and religious buildings since the 9th century."

There was a ruined Kloster (cloister, i.e. monastery) still visible on the highest point.




This is a diagram of the Kloster floor plan, showing the various rooms. "Standort" means "You are standing here."

I climbed this tower to take the next photo.

It was cool to stand and look at this and imagine the monks up here on the mountaintop living their lives in their bare little cells.

Then I came to something really cool – a sign indicating the site of a Celtic ringwall.

The marker says: “Prehistoric Fortified Settlement, *inner ringwall*, {two connecting walls with a gate} , erected by the Celts against the obtruding Germans about 400 years before Christ”

This diagram shows how the entire mountain was surrounded by two concentric ringwalls. It explains that the Heiligenberg was the center of Celtic power in the 5th and 4th centuries B.C., maintaining a monopoly over the nearby iron deposits, a source of economic and military strength. I thought it was very interesting that the Nazis (specifically Joseph Goebbels' propaganda ministry) chose to put the amphitheater right in the middle of this prehistoric Iron Age seat of power (you can see the later amphitheater in the diagram).

The next Sunday (31 January) I went to the same place, but this time I simply continued along the Philosophenweg until I got tired, then turned around and came back. Near the beginning of my walk I was treated to what is probably the most famous view of Heidelberg, with the Schloss (castle), the Heiliggeistkirche (Church of the Holy Spirit) and the Alte Bruecke (Old Bridge):

There was a lot more snow this time, and it got deeper the higher I climbed. I really enjoyed this little brook I came across along the way.

It was very nice to hear the sound of running water in the woods after so much time in the desert. I can’t get enough of it!

This is a view down the Philosophenweg, further along the way. I was glad I had worn my hiking boots and tall gaiters, as the snow was almost up to my knees in some places. It got to be kind of tough going further up, but I was rewarded with almost complete silence and solitude, something quite rare here. I sat on a bench and had my lunch, including making a cup of hot tea in my canteen cup/stove, as I often do when I go for a hike. I also had a thermos of hot chocolate. I had brought my binoculars, and watched a woodpecker work on a tree for quite some time. It was an interesting color - no white or red like in the USA, only black or dark colors, with a sort of fluffy collar around it's neck. I meant to look it up in a bird book or website when I got back, but I guess I'm not much of a birdwatcher. At the end of the path, just before going back down to the car, I stopped and sat on another bench with a view of Heidelberg, and enjoyed a pipeful of tobacco. I had almost taken my pipe with me to the desert but did not, and now I’m happy to have it back again.

P.S. - Ok, just had to look it up:

http://woodpeckersofeurope.info/?q=black_woodpecker

I must have been wrong about the red coloration on the head. I guess I just didn't see it. Perhaps it was a female, which has a smaller red patch according to this. Assuming the website had a complete list of European woodpeckers, this is the only one it could have been.

The following weekend, 7 February, I decided to drive to a completely different place to hike. I just drove off to the north looking for a likely-looking place to turn east into the mountains. After awhile I did so, and after some winding and climbing on narrow roads through little towns I found a Parkplatz set up for cross-country skiers and hikers.

The Germans are very well-organized, and have signs like this for all the hiking paths I’ve seen. Notice something odd about the sign? (Hint – I had a heck of a time orienting this sign to my map until I noticed it).

Typical view down one of the paths I walked on. The terrain reminded me of the movie "Battle of the Bulge". This weekend the snow was deep and crunchy. I sunk in just enough with every step that it was like walking on a beach. I was quite exhausted after I got back to the car. I was glad to have my Jeep, as I had to help some people free their car after they got stuck trying to go too far into the unplowed parking lot.

Afterwards I drove back in the general direction of Heidelberg, kind of randomly picking interesting-looking roads through the mountains. Things started to look vaguely familiar, and then I came around a corner in a little village and was right in front of the “Goldenen Hirsch”, the restaurant I had eaten in the first day I took my Jeep out for a drive. I was very tempted to stop and eat, but I had already decided what I was doing for dinner that night and stuck to my plan. Now I can’t remember what that plan was, so it must not have been as good as the Goldenen Hirsch! Next time I’ll stop there for sure – in fact I think it will be a destination.

This was the last Sunday that I hiked in Germany. I had intended to spend every Sunday this way, but I found the piles of cardboard boxes too hard to ignore, and spent the next Sunday (14 February) unpacking, putting up pictures, and generally making my BOQ more homelike. That was very rewarding, and I am really starting to feel at home there.

The following Sunday (21 February) was spent in a *completely* different manner, but that’s a story for the next entry.

Meanwhile I have some very pleasant memories of my first month in Germany. :-)

Mood: Reminiscent
Music: Songs of the Obsersalzberg