OK this time good friend. I wrote it for friends who already know what I'm doing though. If you to post it on all hands please add something to the effect:

"Col Greg Kitchens is currently deployed with IIMEF under Major General Tryon and is the Civil Affairs Liaison to Amman,Jordan." so those who are not in the loop understand the overall situation. Thanks again for what you do! -Greg

Sent: Sunday, April 19, 2009 9:55 AM

All,

A few weeks ago I was trapped in Iraq. The winds were blowing the sand hard and constantly, leaving a fine dust in the air that resembled an unpleasant fog. Travel is always difficult in Iraq and bad weather makes it all the worse. I even tried to escape by convoy but the sand blew so hard that night not even a string of armored trucks could get out. It would have been an arduous and complex journey anyway, having to get first to the Iraq-Jordan border then to figure out how to get from there to Amman. We had a conference in Al Asad and I had scheduled a few extra days to catch up on several contacts, briefings, and errands that I cannot easily access from Amman. The trouble was that between mechanical difficulties and highly uncooperative weather those four days turned into nine. I now think of Al Asad as “Hotel California”. I was anxious to return to Amman and resume the civil affairs duties so important to the overall mission of stabilizing Iraq.

On the last day in Al Asad my friend, Col “Bull” Lanham, contacted me. There was a mission to escort a delegation of very distinguished Iraqis to California for an agriculture education visit to Fresno State University. A Colonel who had been designated as the senior officer did not get his passport in time and they needed someone to take over. There was only one Colonel who had a passport and clearance for passing through Jordan and I was the one. There was no time to set up anybody else, as the group was about to depart. I was briefed up on the mission and spent the rest of the night getting the necessary certifications to handle the money involved. Semper Gumby (Always Flexible).

The next day I was successfully on a plane from Al Asad for Amman. Munther, my trusted and brilliant advisor, met me at the airport and I broke the news to him that I was leaving again. I repacked and took care of a few vital details at the embassy.

A day later we were all at the Amman International Airport with Major John Keane and seven gentlemen from Anbar province. Difficulties hit us immediately. We had delays with Jordanian customs and immigration. They even misplaced one of the Iraqi passports and the situation had us all waiting and getting more nervous by the hour. I played the “US Embassy” card and it seemed to help inspire a bit of urgency. The passport resurfaced in the nick of time and we all got on the plane. Delta was nice enough to seat me in my usual screaming-baby section, of course. The flight was over 10 hours.

We landed in New York’s JFK and fully expected a few hurdles. We got ‘em. I played the “delegation from Iraq as a guest of a Congressman” card to get us to the head of the immigration and customs line. Unfortunately, they then pulled two of the delegation out for “additional screening”. While the rest of the group got their luggage and passed through another security checkpoint, our two gentlemen were waiting patiently for immigration to run them trough the national system. None of my “cards” seemed to matter enough to speed up the process, although several Delta, security, and immigration people were ready to speed the process once our friends were released. Again, they came running through in the nick of time. The mass of people whom we were originally in line in front of had since long moved though. We were finally off to the next terminal to make our flight to California.

Having got through Government red tape and indifference in three countries we faced one final hurdle: Delta Airlines. Delta overbooked the flight and 5 of our party were on standby. I tried to explain to the overworked agents that we were a delegation that must travel together or not at all, but they were not listening. One-by-one, Major Keane and I counted our group onto the airplane until there were only two left. Sure enough, the agent informed them they were bumped and would have to wait for the next plane. Major Keane went onto the plane and rounded everyone up and brought them back out, much to the delight of the other “bumped” passengers who now had seats. The Iraqis -exhausted, hungry and frustrated- were done. The translator let me know they all wanted to go back to Iraq. I had a talk with them to smooth things over.

Phyllis, the head agent, rattled off to her supervisor in her Jamaican accent how she needed food and hotel vouchers for the TWO men who were bumped! Patience and understanding briefly escaped me for the only time of the trip as I informed Phyllis that the rest of us did not “volunteer” to get off the plane and expected rooms and food for ten. To spare the details, a few hours later we had our rooms, food vouchers and tickets for the next flight out in the morning. Phyllis ended up putting a ton of work into making all the arrangements. I later met Phyllis’ supervisor who told me, interesting enough, that it had not been the status of the delegation or the fact that Delta had messed everything up that inspired him to order Phyllis to look after us. When she told him that we were Marines that was all he needed to know. He went on and on about Delta’s commitment to our troops. The USMC “card” is sometimes the best one in the deck. By the time we all got to the hotel and everyone got their rooms (we had no luggage, of course) it was the afternoon and time for a nap. I dozed and woke in the late afternoon. It occurred to me to call Allston and let her know that we were at least safely in the States and would continue on to California in the morning. California is as far away from Charleston as Iraq, for all practical purposes, and our tight schedule would not give me any chance of seeing Allston and the girls. Then, it slowly dawned on me that it was Spring Break and the girls would not be at home. They were off to visit our friend Mary Pinckney for the week. Mary lives in …Manhattan. Manhattan is in New York as is JFK Airport and this very hotel I was in.

I borrowed Major Keane’s cell and called Allston’s mobile. She was surprised to hear from me. “ Where are you?”, I asked. “We’re just getting into Manhattan on the bus”.

I felt myself smile, “Get a cab and come to this address…” I picked up the hotel literature for the address and explained the situation. We quickly formed a plan that Allston would come out to visit immediately and Mary would bring the girls over for our group’s dinner at eight. A half an hour later I was taking my lovely wife in my arms as she stepped from her cab. An hour earlier we had expected to see each other again in September when I returned to Charleston on leave. It was a miracle.

Mary and the girls showed up at the hotel for dinner and I introduced everyone to the delegation. We had a marvelous buffet meal and a great time. A horrible, tiresome, frustratingly challenging day had transformed itself into the best day of the year. It was absolutely wonderful beyond words to be together as a family again. The Iraqis wanted to know why the ladies could not come with us to California. It was an unexpected and welcome consequence that they witnessed a small example of the family separation and sacrifice we all endure to make the world more a better place. Of course, many of them had been through more than I will ever go through, but seeing it first hand from an American seemed to make a difference. Allston spent the night and took a cab out in the morning just as we grouped up to head back to JFK. "See you in September", she smiled as she left. Phyllis and several other of our new Delta friends met us at the counter and made sure we all got on our flight. I told them the story of the family reunion they unintentionally triggered and we had a good laugh. Rested and refreshed, everyone was happy again. The visit to Fresno went well. We were all over the media and the University there took great care of us. It was a full week and the return trip was largely smooth and trouble-free. Major Keane and I are hoping the Iraqis follow up and return their part of Iraq into a strong food production region. The potential is certainly there. I’m now back in Amman, trying to catch up on everything neglected for that past several weeks. Leave is still planned for September and it will be nice to see the ladies again…but one never knows how the good Lord will show His many blessings.

-Greg