I lost touch last year with Josh but before that had talked with him several times. In November we reconnected a few weeks before he appeared on Huckabee. I urge you to go to “To The Fallen Records” to find more of Josh’s music.
As for anything else to say, I believe the song says it all.
Eva Gardos has worked very hard on the movie based on my book and story. Eva won second place in the Cynosure 2009 Screenwriting Awards in the Female Protagonist category. Producer, Julia Verdin of ‘Rough Diamond Production’ has a short synopsis of the script on her web site. Please check her and her site out, she is a really cool lady.
Director & Screenplay by: Eva Gardos
Executive Producer: Susan Hoffman
Producer: Julia Verdin
Co-Producers: Margaret Riley and Jason Blum
Synopsis:
“Cindy In Iraq” is the story of Cindy Morgan, a single mother, struggling with men and struggling to support her kids. When she loses her job and can no longer support her kids, she takes a job as a civilian truck driver in Iraq.
The government contractor, G.U.T. operates directly in the war zone, and sends them into the war zone with no weapons or training. Cindy, as the only female driver, is singled out and prejudiced against, especially by her convoy leader, Sean, an ex-Vietnam veteran, and a real hard-ass.
In order to keep in touch with her kids, Cindy begins sending e-mails back and forth. These get forwarded around, and eventually she is a landline of information for people across the United States. Cindy then decides to start a website called “Cindy In Iraq,” which provides a behind-the-scenes perspective of the war, telling the public the real truths behind what exactly is going on in Iraq.
When their Assistant Convoy Commander returns home, Cindy volunteers for the open position, and proves herself more than capable of handling it. Her new closeness to Sean, and the trust forming between them sparks on a passionate night, making love as the world goes to hell around them.
The prejudice has not ended against Cindy, however. On Christmas night, as she lies in her bed, longing for her children, an American soldier knife enters her room andrapes her at knife point. Holding herself together and telling no one, Cindy accepts her new job as Convoy Commander and starts winning the respect of the men under her command, as she saves their lives on her first mission.
Still shaken up by the events of Christmas night, scared to tell anyone, Cindy becomes cold and calloused. It is only when Sean returns from a mission gone terribly wrong that they are able to reconnect and Cindy is able to tell someone about her ordeal. Sean convinces her to stand up for herself and report it the head of the company. He tells her to “forget about it” and “have a little sense of fun.” The last things this company wants to do is to put their multimillion dollar in jeopardy. Not only does she warn the other women to protect themselves, but she posts details of it on her website to spread the word.
In retaliation, Cindy gets her next assignment: a near-suicide mission to deliver food, supplies, and ammunition to soldiers fighting in Basra, Iraq’s largest oil fields. The mission is full of peril, and the convoy is ambushed. In a last ditch effort, Cindy orders the caravan into a circle, and the truckers try to endure a hail of gunfire and explosions.
Meanwhile, back at camp, the G.U.T. officials are trying to shut down Cindy’s website and get rid of her. After successfully delivering much needed supplies to the stranded US Soldiers and saving the life of one of them she returns to camp and is fired by her company.
This script is based on the true story of Cynthia Morgan. Her book “Cindy in Iraq” was published by Free Press. Her stories are on her website: http://cindyiniraq.com
I am still getting all those old post back on the blog, but I do have some of them up. Go to the “Emails from Iraq” category.
I have know T. Christian Miller for several years now and worked with him on several stories back in 2006/2007. I am happy to see that he has not given up on the civilian contractors that are forgotten. The following is a story if his that came out last month. Thank you Mr. Miller, it means a lot to all of us that you are still making sure that the American public is aware that there are civilians serving their country as well.
Honoring Veterans of the Disposable Army
by T. Christian Miller, ProPublica – November 11, 2009 4:14 pm EST
Today we honor the veterans who have served in the country’s armed forces. Nobody seriously questions whether they deserve such recognition. The men and women who defended this country and fought its wars made immeasurable sacrifices.
I have spent much of the last year writing about another group of people who suffered losses on behalf of U.S. interests abroad: the civilian contractors injured or killed while doing their jobs in Iraq and Afghanistan.
They are not, of course, soldiers. They could quit their jobs and go home any time they wanted. Many were paid far higher wages than their military counterparts. They knew they were signing up to take a specific job in a dangerous part of the world.
And yet, neither are the contractors working in Afghanistan and Iraq ordinary laborers. Civilians compose half the manpower in Iraq and Afghanistan. They have seen and experienced the full horror of war. More than a thousand have been killed. Thousands more have suffereddebilitating physical and mental injuries. And yet, the Pentagon does not even know how many have died, nor how many are actually working (PDF).
I have come to see the civilian contractors as a new kind of class in the demography of war. They are quasi-veterans: civilians who have experienced war much as soldiers do. There are tens of thousands of them. And while it’s hard to argue that they deserve ticker tape parades and Medals of Honor, it’s also hard to believe that they should be sent home with little more than a pay stub and a patchy health care system that doesn’t even address basic medical needs.
I received a letter from a former KBR contractor which crystallized the strange position of those who work in a war zone. D.A. Corson, who worked at a variety of companies in Iraq until 2008, wrote the following, which I thought worth sharing:
My editor just emailed me telling me that they would like to publish the book earlier than they said, get it out for the 4th of July. She asked if I could get leave to come home at that time for the publicity. Of course, I told her I could. So folks, it looks like things are going to step up a bit and we will be looking at it being on the shelves the last of June, first of July. I am going to be one busy person between now and then. Between the job and getting all the editing done, I am not going to have much free time for a while. Of course, I am not complaining. I love being under the gun, so to speak, as many of ya’ll know. With each step forward we make on this book and the closer it gets to being on the shelves, the more real it all becomes. But for me, I guess it wont totally feel real till I see it in print. Anyway, I am very excited. As soon as I have dates for the publicity and where I am going to be, I will let everyone know. Ya’ll all take care.
I have to say, that sometimes I wonder about this world and the people in it. Working for the company that I work for now, I live on the economy. Which means that I see the country as it really is. With KBR, they kept us hidden away, secluded form the general public. That doesn’t happen now. I am living like I was in the states. I have a flat and a car that I make the rental payments on and I have no restrictions on my off hours. In that, I see a lot more than I did before and being a woman, I experience some of it first hand. Let me give you a few examples.
A little over a week ago, I complained about the truck they were going to put me in for that days mission. We all have been complaining about the trucks not being clean, but this day, I not only had a truck that was filthy, but it smelled bad and only ran 75kmp, (about 45mph). Now if it were just any one of these things, I could have dealt with it, for that day, as long as the problem was taken care of. But when I refused to driver the truck, they guys in the office, called the big boss man. I was not the only one that was refusing to driver their truck that day, we all were. Anyway. The project manager told us that he would get the problem fixed, but that we would have to deal with it for the day. That sort of satisfied me, but I still didn’t want to spend the day running around Kuwait in a slow truck that smelled bad. It being slow meant I had to spend MORE time in it. I was not happy. But I relented and took the truck. To the project managers credit, the next day, we had trucks that were assigned to just us. They were not clean to what we would call clean, but we could fix that ourselves. These guys think that sweeping out a truck and clearing out the trash make for a clean truck. Go figure!!
We all took our cleaning supplies to work and while waiting to get our guys loaded, we clean and sanitized our trucks. We were doing good. Things went well for a few days, then yesterday, I came in after being off for a few days because I was sick and got a filthy truck. I again was not happy. I explained to the guys in the office, that the uncleanliness of these trucks could be the reason I had gotten sick in the first place. It is possible, but I did what I had to, to make my point. Besides, where were the trucks that we were assigned? This sure was not one of them! I will give them credit, this morning when I came in, 3 of our assigned trucks were there. The one I usually driver was not clean, but at least it was not filthy. So again, I dug my cleaning supplies out of the truck of my car and cleaned my truck. I am on stand-by tomorrow and off the next couple of days. So I have no idea what it is going to look like when I get back, but I am counting on have to start all over again. But my question is, what is so hard about giving us clean sanitary trucks to drive?
NEXT EXAMPLE
Today, I only had to load one truck out of 5 I had to take to Arifjan. That is a good thing. Since the camp I was going to was up near the border and was a long drive, the fewer trucks, the less time I would have to be in this camp. It is a dust bowl. The slightest wind and they have a major sand storm to deal with. With the wind blowing and sand flying everywhere, I thought I would be smart and go up the back way. There is a Kuwaiti check point on this route. Most of the time I have no problems going through this check point. They see that it is an American leading the convoy and they let us on through. Well, today, there was an older Kuwaiti manning the check point and I have had problems with him before. I knew as soon as I saw him there we were going to have trouble. He motioned for me to stop, so I did. (We usually don’t have to), and he asked me for my ID. I showed him my DOD badge and he was OK. Then he asked if the driver I was escorting, had ID. Of course, I said he did. They have to have a Kuwaiti ID or a red striped DOD badge to get into the camps. I pulled up and let this guys check my driver. Then I saw that he was motioning for us to pull to the side. The driver I was escorting is Filipino, a TCN, (third country national). I got out of the truck and asked what the problem was. He all of the sudden acted like he didn’t speak English. That pissed me off. I know they do and he did, because he had talked to me already. He keeps saying something about ID. MY driver opens his wallet and I see the red striped DOD badge. I tell him that that badge should be all he needs. This Kuwaiti guard guys snatches the badge out of the drivers hand and then takes his Kuwaiti ID out of his wallet. He kind of says that we have to come back this way on our way out because he is going to hold this drivers ID. Well, that pissed me off even more. The Kuwaiti’s treat these people like they are sub-human. I wont go into all that I know about that, but needles to say, I got even madder at this. I told him I as not leaving without this drivers ID. He still would not speak English to me. I told him that we would just turn around and go in the other way then. He gives me this blank look. I told my driver to get I his truck, we were going to do a u-turn. After we did that, and were sitting in the other side of the check point, this guard brings ME the drivers ID. I set my break, got out of my truck and walked the ID back to the driver while blocking the check point. How dare he treat this driver like this! Thing is, I see this all the time. The guys that go through this check point never have a problem. I usually don’t either, only when this one guys it there. I don’t think he likes the idea that a WOMAN is leading the pack and driving a truck. I know he doesn’t like the TCN’s and treats them like dirt. This angers me to no end. And the TCN’s are so afraid fo being kicked out of the country, that they just take it. And they say this is better than where they come from. I just can’t even imagine.
Well, I have let off enough steam for today. I will stop now. Be grateful that you live in the United States. We have a great country that this kind of thing should not happen.
I am sure that all of ya’ll are wondering what is going on with the job changes. Well at first it was a little hectic. They were giving us trucks that the TCN’s had been using and they were dirty and smelled bad. They smelled so bad that I had a problem holding down my breakfast. All of us complained about the condition of the trucks. Then a couple of us were giving truck that not only were filthy and smelled, but they only ran 75 kph. Can you imagine riding in a truck in the condition that these were in and then it only running 40mph?!! OH, no! I wasn’t going to drive it and neither were the other guys. The had a big blow out that morning over it. The office even called the project manager about it all. He told us that they would have the problem taken care of the next day, but we were going to have to deal with it for that day. One guy said he wasn’t going to deal with it, he wasn’t going to driver the truck. He was told to deal with it today or find another job. That didn’t sit well with me either. We had been told several times by the office personal that the problem w0uld be taken care of and it never was. The project manager said we could trust that when we can in the next morning, that we would have clean trucks that didn’t stink. So, we relented and dealt with it for that day. The next day, everything was as the project manager said it would. The trucks were not “clean”, they were dirty, but not filthy. We could deal with that. AND, they had pulled 5 trucks that would be kept to the side and no one would driver them but us. OK, now we were getting some where.
As far as the job goes now, it is going OK. Things have settled down and are staring to fall into place. As with anything that is new, there is a breaking in period. I hope that we are just about done with ours. Escorting TCN’s around Kuwait is not a hard job other than dealing with guys that want to try to make you think that they don’t understand. I can understand the language barrier, but most of these guys can understand and speak English. Some of these guys are really cool, while others I wish had decided to play hooky for the day. But we are getting there. I think in the not to far off future, it will finally falling into place and everything will, for the most part run smooth. Until them, we are all leaning on each other to help on those days that are just bad days and we should have stayed in bed.
Guess we never think of it much, the things that change your life from one day to the next. Somehow I never thought that day on September 11th that the world would change as it has. And for some it didn’t, only for those who have somehow even in the smallest way be touched by the sands of a distant land they may or may not have seen.
How such small degrees of seperation in this world there are. A man boards a plane, his intent is to destroy it, and a few years later a woman finds herself wondering why someone does not speak to her suddenly, that someone went to work or to fight in the land where that man who destroyed the plane came from. All because of his actions, she is there wondering what happened.
Small wounds, vastly different from those inflicted on 9/11, to the troops, the contractors, the families, but wounds non the less.
Would those wounds have happened had that man never got on that plane?
Would the two never have met? Never had loved? Never had suffered that broken heart? Would it have been better that way?
For the people who have not been touched by this war, they will never understand how deeply it is felt in the hearts and souls of those that have felt the hot winds blow across their cheeks, even from thousands of miles away. We are forever changed. We have no way of undoing it, only the hope that someday We will understand and make peace with it and with each other.
Cindy you are a my hero. Of all the people I have ever known, your courage to go through the things you have, you are amazing. You found your break in the clouds and you sailed through to see the other side. May I find my own break in the clouds someday and see what things you have.
A bend in the road there, a stop taking two minutes longer than it should, an internet search, a simple hello……..fate……we never know what will change us or when……only that when it does it may twist us inside out, give us unmeasurable joy or unbearable sorrow…..a man gets on a plane, who knew?
What a deal! My laptop went down last Thursday. I am not sure what the problem is, but I suspect it is something in the bios, because it wont even boot up. I was freaking 0ut. I have not backed things up in about a month and can’t afford to loose some of the stuff I have on that hard drive. It is still under warranty so I can’t just have “someone” look at it. So I decided that I would buy a desk top. I went to Hawalli where all the computer shops are here and told them I wanted a desk top computer. They asked me what I wanted in it. Cool! They don’t really sell ready made systems, like HP, Dell, Toshiba and so on, here. You can get them, but they cost you more than it is to just have one built, so I had one built. I got the 3.2gig P4 processor, 256 N-Vida G-force video card, DVD writer, 1 gig of ram and a Samsung 17 in LCD ,monitor, to give you some of the spec’s for it. 24 hours later, I brought it home, plugged it in and looked for the button to turn it on. Just my luck, I heard something pop and nothing came on. I didn’t make sure the power supply was set to 220. Somehow in transport or hooking everything up I have flipped the switch to 110. Now I had blown the power supply and still was without a computer. WHAT A DEAL!I took it back down to Hawalli the next night and had the power supply replaced and rushed home to give it another try. Now, for those of you that have never been in Kuwait and tried to driver down to Hawalli, you can’t imagine the torturous drive that this is. The traffic is a nightmare!! Imagine rush hour traffic in any major city in the states and multiply it by 3, then add in the fact that these people can’t drive and not many of them are very courteous, and you can see what I had to drive through. Not once, not twice, but three times, to get my computer. But, night before last I got it home, plugged it in again, making sure that it was set to the right power setting and was ready to load a few software programs and get on-line. I plugged the internet cable in and……………… nothing. The internet was down. Frustrated?! OH, yes, I was frustrated and pissed! The caretaker of this building tries to make you think that he can’t speak English, but I know he understands it. But I called the gal that showed me the flat when I was looking at them and told her my problem with the internet. She said that he internet was running fine, but that she would give him a call. At 22:00 I gave up on him showing up and went to bed.
Yesterday, I felt a bit under the weather and called in sick. I have not felt good since my trip to Bahrain and as much as I tried to fight it, I couldn’t yesterday, so I stayed home. Here I am, resting in bed, not worried about getting on-line at the moment, cause I don’t feel good and there is a knock at the door. I drag my tail out of bed, answer the door and guess who? The caretaker, speaking Arabic and trying to tell me something. (I have got to learn some of this language!) He wants me to come with him. I follow him down to the 5th floor where the network is set up, if ya want to call it a network, and look at the jumble of wires in this little box attached to the wall of the stairwell. I groaned and started looking at it. The wires are marked with a piece of tape indicating to which flat it goes. I didn’t see one for my flat. But there was one unplugged and labeled with a 25. 25 is not my flat, but I plugged it in anyway, ran back up to my floor and checked my computer. It was working! YEAH!! I ran back down to the 5th floor and gave him the hand signal that everything was good and came back to my flat and went back to bed. Then yesterday afternoon, I started loading software onto the computer and noticed, that computer shop had partitioned the hard drive into two drives. This is just and 80gig driver and I didn’t want it partitioned. So, I had to format and start all over. Thanks goodness I looked at it before I loaded to much on it. Anyway, I have most of my software loaded now and as you can see I am on-line now. It will take ma a few days to get it to where I want it, but at least I am up and running again.
Well, that’s it for this morning; I have to get ready for work. Even though I am still not feeling to well, I am going in. I have the next two days off and hopefully today they will give me one of the easy runs. So, till tomorrow, one my day off, ya’ll take care. Those of you up north, keep you heads down and watch you tails.
I have made my last mission into Iraq, at least for a while anyway. I went to Tallil as usually yesterday and came in this morning to find my name on a list of people to go to Heavy Lift 6 Sunday morning. The military has asked PWC to provide American’s to escort the TCN’s around Kuwait on local missions. Since I am one of the few driver’s that have the right DOD card, I told them I would do this if needed. This is what Kenny and I agreed to when I came back over this time. For me to stay out of Iraq. At first, I couldn’t do this. Going into Iraq was part of the mail mission, not to mention I miss the action of running up north. With this offer, I am hoping that this will keep me busy enough that I wont be so board most of the time and I can be true to the agreement that Kenny and I made. I am not sure how this is going to go, but I am going to give it a try. I know that it will make my family happy, I wont be in such a dangerous area as well.
I will be making a trip to Bahrain this weekend as well. My visa runs out on the 8th and with that I need to fly out of Kuwait and then back in. PWC is taking their sweet time in getting us the Visa 18 that we all need to stay working here. Even though they have said that they will pick up any fines that accrue if the visa we have now runs out before they get us the Visa 18, I just don’t like it. Besides, I have never been to Bahrain. Bert, my brother, ahs told me that if Iever got the chance to go there, I should. I wont have but about 24 hours there, and it will be on my own dime, but I plan on making the most of it. Like I have said many times before, I am a tourist in all that I do here. I will give ya’ll a report of my trip and maybe a few pictures when I get back.
The morning started like any other day. I got up at 0500 and was on my way to work by 0620. As I arrived at ECP (the camp gate), there were 3 SUV’s and a small bus full of soldiers. We all cleared the inspection and head into camp. It surprised me when I saw that these vehicles were headed to the JMMT yard. I stopped and checked in the guard for the yard and asked him what was going on. Operation Santa Clause was his answer. There were 3 Generals and their entourage. This was going to be interesting.
I pulled up and parked beside the SUV’s, got out and preceded to go on with my normal routine of getting ready to run my mission into Iraq. I loaded my gear into my truck and got the things from the office that we would need for the mission. I walked into the mail building to get that days bundle of Stars & Strips to hand out to the soldiers pulling guard duty at the gates we would pass through that day. The soldiers were opening a box that had Santa hats in it and putting them on. Then they all went to the dock and stared loading the mail onto the trucks. They had asked the head of the guys that normally load the mail to please hold off so they could do it. A lot of us saw it as a dog and pony show. The mail was going to be leaving late today because these guys wanted a photo opp. Several of us thought, “The soldiers don’t care who puts the mail in the trailers, just so long as they get their mail.” But I guess you have to give them a little credit, they didn’t have to come down there and do this. Maybe in a way, it did mean something to someone that all this brass was willing to fingerprint some mail for the troops. Morale is a big deal when you are in a combat zone ya know. So we all waited for them to get the mail sorted and loaded. I met one of the General’s and had a picture taken with him. When I introduced myself as one of the drivers, he shook my hand and thanked me and all the drivers for doing what we do. One of the Sergeants said that he would not go across the border without a weapon and thanked us for being strong and brave enough to do this job. For us, it is no big deal. We are not brave, it is our job!
But I have to say that this day was special. This was the last mail that would go out before Christmas day. We were helping in making Santa’s Christmas Eve run!
