Baghdad

Back in Baghdad.
Back in the base with its rivers lapping up against Saddam's elobarate buildings. Every entrance has pillars and the marble halls are countless. Patches of lush green trees take over little corners and seem less beaten down by the constant thrusts of sand. I am here, mainly, to write about the Joint Visitor Bureau Hotel. I am hoping to find someone working in an area that is not classified. Luckily soldiers are busy today, escorting a high ranking official, prepping vehicles for a convoy and serving us a four star lunch. But you can read all about that at KVAL.com and KATU.com in the near future.

Convoy

In the last three days I've spent over eight hours on the road, experiencing the joy of convoys. Here are a few things I have learned through my limited experiences.
1 Convoys remind me of an early morning radio show; in fact most of the guys I've met would be quite successful at such a career. The banter on the radio between soldiers is constant because there is not much else to do hour after hour on the road. "It keeps us awake," one soldier said. My only is advice is to turn off your headset if they start telling jokes. I made the mistake of listening, laughing and telling bad jokes of my own. The madness went on all through the night. I wanted to sleep, but felt like it would be unfair to snooze while the soldiers must be wide-eyed and ready.

2. I was very impressed with the soldiers' positive attitudes. Here they are squashed inside uncomfortable armored boxes. Let me explain... Some of the armored vehicles have enough room in the back to stretch your legs, but most are worse than flying coach on a commercial airline. The other issue is the amounts of gear soldiers wear. The vests are several inches thick and weigh close to 40 pounds, which helps your body produce and then trap large amounts of sweat on your back and stomach. The high neckline can often choke you if you lean too far forward. My favorite part of the armored ensemble is what you wear above the neck. On convoys you wear a helmet, eye protection and a headset that fits snugly over your ears and under the helmet. After several hours the weight of the helmet begins to feel brain crushing. It also smashes the headset and sunglasses over your ears into a painful s'more of blunt objects.

3. On my last trip we were making our way through a long stretch of highway when something felt like it exploded beneath us. The driver quickly pulled the car over and the gunner announced that we had a flat tire. Within a few minutes the vehicle ahead of us backed up and another pulled along side of us for protection. Within ten minutes the tire was changed and we were on our way. I joked to the soldiers that I would write a story about how scared they were, which was the opposite of the truth, they got a laugh about that, especially when one guy kept saying he was only scared for one second. Not that anyone could blame them for getting shook up when driving in Iraq, where the greatest enemy threat is the IED. The 41st has already suffered several causalities, but soldiers still go out on the road every night. They do their jobs and fear is not part of the equation. I can't help feeling pride and pity for their plight.
The other excitement on the trip consisted of 10 minutes of hot miking. It was pure torture. Someone on another vehicle left their mike on, leaving everyone else with a deafening roar of static. Finally the culprit turned their radio off and the sound of silence was like the relief of peeing after holding it in for several hours.

Overall I am very thankful for the soldiers providing me safe travel through the country and allowing me a glimpse into their world.

Rain

I'm back in Balad.

A soldier and I heard there was a new Italian restaurant on base so we went on a walk to find such a place. Why? Just because it's something new. We didn't know where we were going so it was quite a journey. We talked about this and that. I went on about how I wished I could go to where the treeline hides the great sand dunes before the ocean. I wished I could feel the mist on my face on a rainy day. In fact I even raised my hands up and said, "I want it to rain!" True story. Much to my surprise the sky did not open and send a flood down, but the sky seemed to brighten with strokes of light. "Is that lightening?" I asked the soldier. "No I think it's some kind of beacon," he said. So we walked on and finally stumbled upon a small trailer with a deck and picnic tables. "Don't you feel just like Lawrence of Arabia crossing the desert?" I asked. "No," he said.
Inside the restaurant plastic, lime green chairs were set up beside little white tables. A line of soldiers waited to place their orders, we decided on pasta and pizza. We sat down at a table and within a few minutes a soldier walked in with a few dark spots on his shirt. I chalked it up to strange sweat stains, but then a whole group of soldiers came in laughing and wiping something off their arms and faces. I began to suspect that something was happening outside. "Its raining!" one girl shrieked with a laugh. But was it really raining? Was it possible? We ate quickly, good pizza, good pasta.
Outside the mist hit our faces and the sidewalks were already covered in mud. For the first time in nearly five months it was raining. We walked in the rain that was, well less then a drizzle and more like a fine sweat.
The next day the rain came and left at random intervals. The damp air and cloudy sky felt somber, especially after we heard word that a UH-60 Blawkhawk had crashed on base. One soldier was killed and 12 were wounded. It seemed only right for it to rain.
Read more at: http://www.katu.com/news/60003362.html

Stories about my work with the 41st Infantry will appear on kval.com and katu.com someday soon...

A New Day

Rolled out of bed at 5 am this morning, but I was anxious to get the day going. I stepped outside and to my suprise this place is cooling down. It's not until 9 or so that the heat makes you want to puke. Unfortunately by noon I am squished between two soldiers in a C17 with drops of sweat squeezing through my eyelashes. It's not so painful that I don't take a snooze over the next three hours and wake up with drool on my chin.
I am route to my new job as an embedded journalist with the 41st Infantry. I am traveling with two other military journalists from the Infantry unit. Everything is so complicated. We take our bags here and there and everywhere, one bag gets lost and found. We go to chow, we get lost trying to find the tent city, our lodging for the night, then we can't find our tents. Why must the military not organize numbers in a way that makes sense, 102 comes after 97?
We walk around in the dark, searching for my tent. The weight of my bag burns my shoulders and the deep gravel makes my feet feel like two dead fish. Finally we find my tent. I am tired, but ready for the unknown, new people, new places, but how I miss the Medevac unit. As I lay down for sleep and the air-conditioning breezes through the air I feel that darkness of one part of my life disappears, but I am filled with excitement of the faint light of the future. Who knows what will happen next?

Staying

I was looking at old pictures of myself the other day with another soldier. "You don't look anything like you do now," he said innocently. And I thought all of a sudden he was right. There were superficial things like my face is thinner now, my eyebrows are less plucked, my hair has natural sun streaks instead of the bleach bottle blond I used to be. There is no make-up on my face now, my hair is rarely seen down and my outfits come with only a few accessories, a watch, a ring and my dog tags.
I still smile, big with my gums showing, its just a natural expression for me. Perhaps I look a bit older now, they say life can age you and I wonder if my time here is wearing me down. I asked a medic the other day about my blood shot eyes and the fact that often I have a slight shake of the hands. He answers that its probably stress for the eye and lack of water for the shake. Stress? Hmm, but what do I have to stress about? As far as war goes I'd like to know where it is because I haven't seen a sign of it in Balad. The chow hall has flat screen TVs, the pool has loud speakers blaring hip-hop, the Pizza Hut and Taco Bell are always crowded, we live in quite a safe bubble on the base. I do miss my friends and family like crazy sometimes. I wake up in the morning sometimes just aching to be home and I think about maybe I'll get the hell out of here tomorrow, but I never do.
I stay because its too hard to leave knowing that others have to stay.