Got to the first show!

Where did I leave off... Made the hops from Canada to Shannon, Ireland over the Alps and into Sigonella, Sicily. Dropped off a squadron riding with us in "Sig" and continued to Bahrain. Night before last, a hotel room bed and hot shower were very much appreciated by our travel weary bunch. About 5 hours of sleep led to us packing an overnight bag of show clothes and sleepwear only to catch a C-2 Greyhound COD flight from Bahrain Naval Air Station out into the middle of the Persian Gulf! We landed on the USS Abraham Lincoln. Yes, I said we landed on an aircraft carrier... tailhook and all!! Directly between Kuwait and Iran. We were escorted off of the flight deck directly to the Captains quarters where we met all the top brass of the ship including the awe inspiring Admiral of the strike force, Rear Admiral Mark D. Guadagnini. They checked us in to officers quarters and toured us around various parts of the ship. Our regular tour plans were quickly changed when 12 fighters were scrambled to respond in support of some guys on the ground in Iraq. The Admiral thought there would be no better tour of a carrier than to actually be on the flight deck as 12 F/18A Super Hornets were catapulted from the deck into full after-burner action. I couldn't agree more :)
With a short safety breifing we put on the gear and started climbing steep aluminum staircases until we came out on the deck surrounded by intimidating jets, deafening noise and intense heat blowing against our goggled faces. The wind alone nearly took me off my feet. The Cheif Petty Officer took us to a yellow line that was as close as anyone is ever allowed to a jet taking off the carrier.

This guy is going from zero to over 180 mph in 2 seconds. In this shot he is at about 130mph.

After watching take-offs we went to the other end of this massive space and watched as planes came in to land by catching a wire with a tail-hook. People had told me that making a landing like that might make you puke. That's not true. Having a "front row" seat to see what you just did an hour ago... that could make you puke!

We had a great autograph session and lunch with about 200 of the ships star crew members (high achievers) and then got ready for the show.

The hangar bay holding about 30 jets and 3000 eager concert attendees was a venue unlike any other. Patriotic with an industrial/warrior vibe. Hard working people having the time of their life listening not just to music, but home. Home being delivered by people from home. People who had set foot on their home ground just days ago and would again just days from now. They wanted to talk to us; touch our hands; listen our accents and have photos made. It's not that they love David Allen or Tim Rushlow or Nathan Westbeld or Geno Mulcahy that much; they love home. Enough to leave it.

After the show we visited and conveyed all of  your love to them for as long as we could. In a while, a fighter pilot call sign "Cricket" came and said that the Admiral of the Strike Force (includes the carrier and all support destroyers, cruisers, etc) had requested our presence on his private bridge. We followed Cricket through dark corridors of dim red light and up what seemed to be 20 flights of the steep and narrow stairs. We came out on a balcony over looking the gulf and the entire ship. The Admiral was waiting there with a handful of the best cigars his world travels had collected. We enjoyed his cigars, his stories, his insights, his character and his courage for more than an hour and a half. We discovered a true American hero and friend for life.

We "hit the rack" for a good night's rest and woke up bright and early; just before our wake-up call from the ship's... somebody (?)... when the phone in our room rang, Tim answered it; "Bridge...".  The reaction he got from the other end of the line was "startled", to say the least. We said our goodbyes to a few teary eyes. They were certainly sad to watch this little bit of home get on another COD flight and leave them, but we'll be back. I promise.

No rollercoaster on the planet has squat on being catapulted and 180 miles per hour in 2 seconds off the front of ship while sitting backwards. That's all I can say. There a no words to describe that feeling. There just aren't.

 Back in Bahrain, we checked into a nice hotel and considered our options for dinner. Bahrain has become very westernized and has McDonald's, Hard Rock Cafe, T.A.I. Friday's, they even have the last Kenny Rogers' Roaster known to be in existence! That's when I ran across this place:

A mexican restaurant in Bahrain?!? Something about that was just so inherently wrong that I had to try it...



It occurs to me now that eating Mexican food in the middle-eastern island nation of Bahrain is as good an idea as eating Cajun cuisine in Canada...

It's Midnight now and I have a wake-up call for 3:15am. Tomorrow morning we leave Bahrain for another great location filled with great Americans eager to be entertained and that is our mission. It will be a couple of days before I can get to an internet connection, or phone for that matter, but check back soon. Hopefully my next connection will be fast enough to upload some of the hundreds of photos and video we are getting on this most excellent adventure.

Our love to you all,

 D, T, N, G

 Rushlow