This is where I live. To the left is our row of "hooches" and on the right is the hundreds of sandbags that protect us from schrapnel from the mortars and rockets. I have just returned from R&R and I wanted you to see my lovely neighborhood here in the prestigious Riverside area. This is where I sleep and shower, but that is about all the time I spend here.
The question that continued to enter my mind as I returned from my vacation from the war was, "At what point will I really know I am back?" Sure, when I step off the airplane and I am in the middle of the desert is a pretty good indicator, but I was not convinced that would be the true indicator. And I was right about that.
When I flew out of Baghdad a couple of weeks ago the temperature was 122 degrees, but when I returned the city was experiencing a "cool" spell and the temperature was only 111 degrees, but not to worry it is forcasted to reach 118 today so it is definitely warming up.
One of the first things to greet me when I flew into Kuwait to transfer to a military flight to Baghdad, was the reissue of my body armor. Oh yeah, 35 pounds of tight sqeeze lovin. It missed me and squeezed me extra tight as I strapped it on for the first time. It made its impact known immediately. The weight and restrictiveness tend to add 20 degrees to the outside temperature. The sweat began to pour and I was confident I was truly protected when the streams of sweat that flowed down my body formed into a river that flowed down the crack of my butt. Oh yes, I remember that feeling. That was the kiss to go with the squeeze.
While I was waiting for a bus ride from the commercial airport in Kuwait city to Ali Al Salem in the desert, I witnessed our bus driver lay a carpet in the sand, get on his knees and begin to pray toward Mecca. I got the feeling I was not supposed to see him because he stopped mid bow and gave me the evil eye. I just smiled and said, "Sorry". I was kind of hoping he would ask me to join him. I thought that might be pretty cool, to pray to Allah in the desert on a magic carpet in the middle of the night. But I guess he wanted to be alone.
The ride was about an hour long, and I tell you, I thought all the way that this guy might have been doing his final prayer before blowing the bus and all us on it to hell. But it was not to be. We arrived safely and I then knew I had brought more than a few extra pounds back with me, that while back in the states I had renewed my American prejudice. It is more infectious than I thought. I will have to work on that.
I finally flew into BIAP (Baghdad Airport) but just barely because a nice sand storm had blown up in the night and shortly after my arrival all air traffic was grounded for the day. That was not good news because the best way to get to the IZ (International Zone) where I live is by helicopter. So sadly I scrubbed my flight and went in search of other transportation. It seemed that even the Rhino that makes several runs down the once dreaded Route Irish to the IZ was overbooked because all of the flight cancellations. So I was stuck at FOB Victory and all I wanted to do was to go "home".
So I talked with a security patrol that was going "out the wire" and asked if I could hitch a ride with them and they could drop me off in the IZ. I was in luck and got a nice ride in one of the new MRAPs (Mine Resistant Ambush Protected) vehicles as they conducted their sector search of Baghdad. The crew was careful to ensure I understood how to survive an IED attack on this unique vehicle. Fortunately for all of us, we did not have that experience. It was an interesting ride with great views of the city I had not seen before. We only had a couple of exciting moments but in the end no one was hurt and I was delivered to my destination.
And let me tell you, those things may be air conditioned, but not so good with all the gear we wear over here. All we wanted to do was to get out of the vehicle is a safe area, peal off the body armor and let our selves cool off in the 111 degree heat. Crazy, I know, but this is life as a soldier in Iraq.
So after an interesting journey I stopped by my unit, picked up my weapon, and went back to my hooch for a long 12 hour sleep. I am home at last; at least my home for the next 8 months. It sure is nice to sleep in your own bed.
