The Toastmaster Wore A Pistol

Tables filled with Hot barbecued beef, chicken and pork spewed delicious steam into the chilled Baghdad air as small groups of friends gathered for the New Years Eve Feast. In a small parking area, decorations were hung, a small d.j. stand was prepared and plastic tables with colorful cloth on top were shaken out. Music and speaker tests made for strange background noise as I moved through the crowd of around 50 people from all over the world. Like a fly on the wall, I listened as I moved catching glimpses of lives from places like Fiji, Hondurus, Phillipines, Ukraine, Lebanon, India, Nepal and the list goes on. Stories about old swimming holes and missions gone bad mixed with laughter and the passing of large cans of Heineken almost made standing in the middle of this broken, mixed up country seem normal.

At 8 o'clock, the ceremony began with the Toastmaster, a warrior from a nearby country, dressed in camo pants, dress boots, a flak vest with no plates, a starched white shirt and a black bowtie coordinated nicely with a standard issue sidearm opened the party with a short, hearfelt speech. We remembered our friends who had fallen in 2005 first. A moment of silence was held and heads were bowed in reverence as each of us, I'm sure, contemplated those difficult moments from last year when news of a friend lost touched our ears and shattered an otherwise normal day. Speeches from members of senior management followed, each laced with the talk of Family. Our Families at home and our extended Family here. Each one critical in our survival. Although we all came from different places around the globe, we rely on each other for support and guidence daily. The younger or new members of our family learn quickly, the lessons of our elders and the elders and experienced are eager to share their helpful knowledge with those in need. When one of us is down, our family, in small numbers or large, is there to support us and bring us back to a viable state.

After the speeches came the food. It was late for dinner and the wonderful smell of the food had everyone in a frenzy once we were given the go-ahead to eat. Barbecued meat, pasta dishes, both sweet and spicey, skewered shrimp, dumplings and an array of deserts from around the world were hastily put to plate and eaten. Laughter and compliments flowed during the meal through shivering hands and visible breath. Games followed and prizes were given to the winners. 35 years old and musical chairs is still a hilarious riot to play!! Everyone won in the end whether it was taking home a doorprize or just being able to laugh off the days events. The party broke up around eleven as the impending New Year approached. Some people strayed off in groups to finish off their drinks together, husbands and wives (Yes, they are here in teams) went off to spend their midnights either cuddling or arguing, and the rest of us went off to our rooms with a smile from the nights events.

I spoke to my Wife when I returned to my room. I miss her dearly as well as my children but the fact that I'm surrounded by so many great people in the exact same situation makes it all bearable. I finished my conversation just before midnight. When the bells tolled their last call for 2005, I stood smoking the days last ciggerette and watched and listened as the city erupted with gunfire of varying size and strength. A falling bullet entered the hood of the vehicle I stood by so I retreated to my room. As I closed my eyes, I thought of the evening and how the feeling of something new coming had filtered through the crowd. Whether it be the collapse of a broken country or the rise of a new arab empire, only time will tell.

Thanksgiving in Taji

So much for a line in the sand. I drew it and got pulled out for greener and much bigger pastures over 50 days ago. I'm in Taji now. Some say it's the biggest base in Iraq. Most times, it feels like it. I arrived here on Oct 5 and have been running ever since. This time, I have 3 dining facilities to run, 46 garbage trucks and coincidentally, garbage men to chase around. I have two fire departments and the whole base to clean on a daily basis. With over 350 employees under me and an entire base to cover, I haven't stopped since I got here. Being around Americans on a daily basis has been somewhat of a culture shock to me since arriving as well. Most every one of them though, is cooperative and supportive.

We serve over 9000 soldiers here at Taji. It is a training base for many different types of soldier. The one thing that has not changed with location is the general attitude and operating standards of the Iraqi Soldier. They are destructive by nature. I have yet to figure out if they just don't understand how to use a doorknob or a faucet properly or if they just do not care. Most, I believe, just don't care because there is no penalty for such an infraction. Perhaps they believe that if they destroy enough things, they will get all new. I don't know.

There are two sides to this base: Iraqi and Coalition(American) Since I have had the opportunity to enjoy Iraqi quisine since my arrival 8 months ago, I have indulged daily at the American dining facilities. There are two here: Big and Small During regular days of the week, you can choose from cheeseburgers, pasta made to order, mexican, chinese, Baskin Robbins Ice Cream, as well as a host of 'Traditional' food like ham or Roast beef. A1 Steaksauce is on every table and the drink coolers have every thing fluid imaginable. Why yes I have gained weight since being here. If you are not in the mood for dining in, you can dine out at one of the 'Plaza' restaurants including: Pizza Hut, Wendy's, Taco Bell, Cinnabon and Popeyes Chicken. It is food heaven here and yes, again, it is showing!

I did not know what to expect yesterday when we went to eat lunch for Thanksgiving. It is normally somewhat busy in the dining facilities but yesterday, when we pulled up, there was a large line. We waited in the line outside and everyone that was leaving the dining facility told everyone in the line quite happily "Happy Thanksgiving Y'all!!" I believe I am one of only 9 or 10 Yankees here as well but I'll save that for a later blog. When we finally entered the handwash station, we could here a brass band playing Christmas tunes! This was going to be good! Once out of the handwash station and into the main facility, we were greated by a very large tapestry that an elementary school in the U.S. had sent. It was extremely difficult to hold back tears as I looked up at the tapesty to see 30 something brightly colored little turkeys made by tracing around the hands of each child to create the outline for the turkey and then splashing on bright red heads and a hundred different colors! "Thank You!!" it said boldly at the bottom and each one was signed by a Jacob or an Amanda or a Kristen.

Next, we passed 3 gigantic cakes. Each must have measured 3 feet by 4 feet! They were decorated with thanksgiving cornocopias and turkeys as well. The brass band could be heard very clearly now as there is no volume control for brass apparently and again, a lump crept into my throat as jingle bells was played loudly and audaciously by the happy band members Scanning across the dining hall, it was Thanksgiving everywhere!! Soldiers dressed as pilgrims and indians, cakes and pies filled glass cases, the waiters in the dining hall were frantically trying to keep the pumpkin pie case filled by wheeling cart after cart of the stuff to the back dessert cases! The whole place smelled of Turkey, Ham and Pies! When we made it to the Main Line, we were greated by happy servers from India who seemed amazed at our happiness over the food. "Turkey Sir?!" The man yelled over the crazed brass. "Hell Yes!" I said and began working my way down the line that contained every traditional Thanksgiving item ever conceived! My plate was loaded when we finally found a table among the crowd. In the center of the hall, where we sat, there were Lobster tables with brightly festooned table clothes and little grapejuice dispensers that poured the juice out like fountains. Shrimp cocktail tables, and more enormous cakes! We ate and grinned like chimps as a thousand "Happy Thanksgiving!"'s were said around us.

As I sat, the thought of Thanksgivings past came to the forefront of my thought. I began to remember the 'Kids' tables we had to sit at for the longest time. I remembered just how the house smelled when the last item was put on the table and how loud it was with my family all talking at once. I remembered the time my bare chested brother opened the oven to show 'Cesear', our 15 pound cat the turkey. It seemed that Cesear found the extreme heat more interesting than the delicious turkey so he bagan to do some carving of his own!! I can't remember if Mark needed stitches or not. I remembered my wifes noodles which, for the past 10 years, have been a staple of every Thanksgiving. Oh how I miss her noodles! I gave thanks at that moment for all the wonderful memories of Thanksgivings past and for all the work these fine people had done to take us all out of this broken doorknobbed country.......even if it was for only an hour.

A Line In The Sand

It's been a long time since I've last reported. Partly out of growing cynicism towards the population, partly due to a generally poor attitude since returning from a wonderful vacation to the states, and partly due to my camp at Abu Ghraib being taken over by the Iraqi Government and beginning anew...........again.

I've been at this new camp now for one month and I'm still reaching for ways to describe it. You see, unlike the other camps that I've been to where the officers are pretty much just grabbed from the street and an officers brand is applied, these guys have been officers for a while. In fact, some have been officers for over 20 years. When I first came to this camp, I expected the normal fistfight during meal time and the mongrel hordes coming through our wire as has been the case since I've gotten to this country. The first meal I observed was quiet and orderly. I leaned over to my translator and whispered "I've landed in the Twilight Zone....." His reply was somwhat discomforting, albeit, I was happy....."You don't know the half of it" he whispered.....

After attending several meals with the same result and meeting some of the officers(polished and shaved) , I longed to know just what the hell was going on here! An officer, who I now consider a friend then asked me one evening if I'd take part in one of my favorite pastimes....... shooting. I gladly grabbed my weapons because I was feeling a little out of practice anyway. My translator, myself, his translator and the Captain headed for the range. I wasn't sure where the range was on the base and I quickly found out that it wasn't on the base at all! My heart raced as we drove through the front gate out into 'The Wilds'. "God, I'm an Idiot!!" I thought to myself. The officer quickly noted my fear and looked at me in the rear view mirror and smiled. "Mako Mushkala Grieso" (No Problem) they have a hard time pronouncing my name so they all call me Grieso now. It seems that Grieso is a dragon from T.V.'s past that wanted to be a fireman instead of starting fires. Anyway......

The Captains translator rolls around in the front seat to face me in the back. "Nothing will happen to you........trust me........" his voice trailed off as he turned around again. All I could do was sit and watch all these people watching us drive by. We got to the range and there were various people, mostly children, milling about. Again, I was panicking and again, the Captain assured me that we would not encounter ANY problems here. I learned later exactly why we would not have ANY problems from the locals. I shot my AK and my Shorty AK as well as my pistol. The Captain was satisfied with my ability and we joked a little when I wasn't lookin over my shoulder. When we got back to camp, he invited me to eat with him. My translator, myself and Captain G had a good dinner and when the Chai was brought we started into legitimate conversation. He asked me about various things concerning the way things are being handled here and how the new government is shaping up. I asked him questions about his history and what he did before the war.

When he started answering my questions, I thought he was joking. He's telling me about protecting the president and stopping assasination attempts and different things and I'm thinking......'Why isn't he still protecting the President?' and the whole time my translator's eyebrows keep giving me that 'Do you get it yet?' look...........The President?.......My translator says THE President.....Oh....Oh my... When we first invaded this country, the military knew they would receive little resistence in the far provinces but they knew the closer they got to Baghdad, the more 'Republican Guard' units they would meet and the resistance would grow. The Republican Guard was responsible for keeping Saddam alive at any and all costs, to derive intelligence from the local population, disimenate it and find out who is who and what the heartbeat of any local population was, and to carry out Saddams orders whatever they may be.

I thought these guys were all in hiding! I'm sitting across the table and chatting with and.......OH my......I'm surrounded by..!!! Republican Guard Members!!!!!! Everything said in passing and the way they acted about different things especially their demands that the food be of the utmost quality and that it be served properly and the fact that they were said to be 'experts' in 'intelligence' all came flooding in.......Who was going to mess with these guys at the firing range? Only a Lunatic!! At first I thought "I'm in real deep now" but upon further Q&A, I've discovered that their pride doesn't lie in the fact that some were in the next room from Saddam, but rather that they were all very good at what they did. They are still good at what they do. This time around, they are using their talents for the good though. I've sat through various stories that they tell and I'll tell you, any American that knows anything about this country and the history of the past 35 years would salivate at the thought of hearing them in person!!!!!

So, fast forward two weeks. We're all one big happy family. I'm making new and exciting friends and my staff is working like crazy and then one night, my translator and I sit down with an upper level member of the group and here's where things get sort of weird. My new friends love to talk politics and in this country, religion and politics go hand in hand. Well, exactly put, religion is the very first and all other things just occur because that is the way it's deemed by God. So my Shitte translator is translating the officers words and he begins to explain to me that a lot of these things we heard in America were made up by the 'guilty' parties. We're talking about kicking in doors of innocent people in the middle of the night for nothing more than refusing to attend a rally supporting their leader or refusing to join the Army. My translator begins to stammer at this point and I don't really notice his anger until the conversation turns to the officers explaining that, for instance, a man was arrested and he told the government that he did nothing but it ended up that he had a brother that was trying to lead a revolution movement from another country. This man was Shia. "The Shia are not really smart enough to run the country and THAT is why it's in such turmoil.".

It's just the three of us in a small room and I can see my translator trying to maintain and the officer just continues to talk. "So many of these 'innocent' people were guilty of many crimes under the rule of law and the rule of Islam." he continues and now my translators hands are shaking so I look at my watch and yawn......time to go!!! We get out of site and he starts jumping up and down and making the international sign for I Could Just Choke The Shit Out Of Something!!!!!! I'm like "What??!!". "Did you hear that.....that....Shit!!!!!?????". "Is he right?" I ask like an idiot. "WHAT???" he says! Okay.... I get it but I didn't think it would be right up front like that. I thought the differences between Sunni Muslims and Shitte or Shia(I have found both to be correct depending on the writer)Muslims were known like Catholics and Methodists but you don't just go digging at another like that. I've always lived in camps where it's US and THEM in the same camp. My staff and the Iraqis we are feeding, fueling, etc but this kind of throws a new wrench into the gears. We're all supposed to get along in the New Iraq but the more that time goes by, I see my Shitte staff and our new Sunni friends drawing.................
A Line In The Sand......... to be continued........

Going Home.......Finally

Well, almost 4 months now. I'm back in Baghdad waiting for my flight. I'll spend a few days here to come back down from the excitement of the past 40 days. It feels good but now that I'm not 'running' at camp, I'm bored. I just want to be home now. I started this blog to try to describe what a person experiences while in Iraq. After 4 months, this is the situation report. My wife and I get along better than we ever have. I feel more strongly for her than I ever have. When we first started dating, I thought I was in love. That was nothing, THIS is what love feels like and it took being over here to really see it.

My daughters life didn't seem to change all that much with me being gone except the fact that I am not there to critic her every move trying to make her a 'better person'. I don't have to critic anything she does. She has been the young lady that everyone else knew she was but I refused to see. I have changed, she is still the same good girl as when I left. My son,........oh boy. He just doesn't understand. He's a little fella and he misses his Daddy. My wife told him over a week ago that I was coming home soon and she tells me that everyday, he looks out the window and asks when I'll get there....in my red truck? I sold it before I left but he thinks I drove it to Iraq. He's 3. I don't think any one thing tears at me as when I think of him. His face, somehow, hurts to think about. I'll tell you that I'm a very emotional person but I haven't had THE breakdown over here. I thought I would when I first got here but I didn't and I haven't. I don't know why.

The rest of my family, I think, thinks it's interesting that I'm over here but I never here from them so I'm really unsure of how they really feel. I talk to my Mother. She was pretty upset when I left but I think the fact that I'm here is settling in now. I imagine she bores people to death with Iraq stories. I've never served in the armed services like my family thought I should. I grew up with the military and it was never really my bag but being over here has brought me a lot closer to realizing that I probably could have done very well for myself in the service. I mesh well with every branch. I can't wait to get home and eat real food see my wife and my kids. It's indescribable what I'd do at this point to assure that I saw them again. I'm not feeling particularly poetic because I'm leaving. I'll end with this. Is it worth the money? Yes. Does it help your 10 year relationship? Yes. Have I asked myself several times what the Hell I'm doing here? YES. In the end though, whether you are working down the street or across the globe, it's about perception. Before I left, my wife and I were becoming roomates and I just wanted the kids to be quiet. I appreciate life 100 times more and I believe my family feels the same. We'll be stronger and wiser for this in the end.

A Large Chunk of Irony or It's a Small Small World

I work for a company that provides services like food, water, fuel, laundry and other things to the New Iraqi Army. With each group of Army or Police, there is a small group of American Soldiers with them to help teach and coordinate their actions. In my new camp, there is an officer with the Americans that has been my 'point of contact'. We're the same age and share a lot of the same ideals. Wait, let me back up.

In 1985, I travelled to Germany to see part of my family that was stationed there. I was 15. Being the age that I was and having a male relative of the same age and with the drinking age at around 4 in Germany, we wreaked havoc on the German Countryside. It was a wonderful time and I made many German and American friends. We hung out mostly with a group of American kids that went to K-town High School. Kaiserslautern High. We went to the discos and hung out and terrorized elderly people and small children like most 15 year old kids do. I spent almost two months their in 1985 and went back in 1987 for another two months.

Fast forward to Iraq 2005. 20 years later. I'm sitting with this officer that is attached to the Iraqi Army and were talking about this and that and he mentions that he spent time in Germany. "What part of Germany?" I asked. "K-town" he replied. "How old are you?" was my next question. "35" he answered. "huh, I wonder.....do you know _____?" I asked about my male relative that I stayed with and ran with while in Germany. "Yeah, we graduated together and hung out at......." "You're kidding!!?" I smiled wildly! I couldn't believe it. Me and this guy hung out together and talked twenty years ago in another foriegn country and here we sat together again!!!! Once we got the names out of the way, away we went with all the places we used to hang out in and discos and girls and friends. Amazing. People say it's a small world. If you've never left your small community, I'm here to tell you. IT REALLY IS.

The Cat's Out Of The Bag........

90 days has come and gone. Three months in Iraq and nothing has changed......or has it? When I read my early blogs, they seem so innocent and imaginative. It was a wonderland with fresh new faces and a huge adventure ahead. I'll stay on for another 25 days and then take my first vacation. The wonder and adventure is damn near over for me now. I can speak enough Arabic to get just about anything across, I can walk by a tent or building and pick up problems or gossip, I have seen the country's scenery for the most part and now, I've started a new camp in between the lovely village of Fallujah and the beautiful resort town of Abu Ghraib.

When I made my first site visit here, I was told about the mortar and rocket attacks that plagued the base. Although the number of dead and wounded were not high, the likelyhood of being near an explosion was. The camp is in a pretty decent neighborhood for the most part, I mean, hitting the Dairy Mart for coffee in the morning is still pretty much out but it's okay. A few miles away however, a small portion of the population looks forward to seeing the smoke plumes rise up from my camp and the people running frantically to save their friends lives by holding their bare hands on open wounds and waving frantically for trucks to stop for pickup.

We were in camp around 5 days when the first attack started. 8:30a.m. I was walking towards the dining facility. Ahead of me and above the dining building, I saw a large black cloud of smoke. Then I heard the report. I was on the phone with my boss. The people at my company all joked with me the day I left Baghdad to come here. Everyone here knows what this area is like. IEDs, VBIDs, Rockets, Mortars, and a whole host of other exciting things to make the heart jump just a little faster. Everyone joked to make me feel better saying things like "Don't come back unless you have both arms." or "Make sure the hood they give you isn't too snug because you will get a nasty rash on the end of your nose." Joking about the nasties makes us all feel a little easier.

So I'm on the phone with the boss in Baghdad. I see the smoke, here the report and everyone in my camp just looks at me as I watch the smoke rise ahead. I knew what it was.......I just didn't want to believe it... I started yelling to my people to take cover "Yella!! Yella!!" (move! move!) I stopped thinking about the conversation I was having until my boss yells into the phone "What the hell is going on there?". "We're being mortared, I'll call you back." I hung up and my mind started racing. What the hell am I doing here? Where are my men? I looked to see that my men were in the bunker we built. It was hard work to build but now the men felt safe. The second round came in just seconds after the first. Then the third. Then the fourth. You could see the rounds heading East as they fell, thankfully, away from my camp. I got to the bunker and was relieved until the realization that all of my men were not there.

I ran out of the bunker and into the tents and buildings my men are staying in. There I saw people still trying to find their cigerettes. Lacing up shoes and boots. I couldn't believe what I was seeing! I'm out here trying to get them to safety, placing myself at risk so they could find their missing lighter so they wouldn't have to sit in the bunker without cigerettes!!! I grabbed people and shoes and started throwing each through the doors. The whole thing only lasted about 60 seconds but what a rush. The men were finally accounted for and safe. I went over to the South edge of my little part of the base and looked through binoculars at the impact site. Men and trucks running and driving wildly. People running with limbs, throwing them in the back of trucks. Workers pouring out of the front gate in a stampede. All Hell broke loose and I was watching it. I've tried to hide the bad things from my wife and family as long as I could but this morning, my wife read an email that I had forwarded her. It was a reply to an email I had written and I had told someone about the mortars. She asked "How many times has your camp been mortared?" I kind of froze. 'She's not supposed to know this stuff!' 'How?'

She actually said she felt better because she knew I wasn't being truthful with the things I've seen and done here. I told her that I'd tell her the whole story in 1 year. John Wayne's not here, Rambo would have ducked and Tom Hanks pretty much had it right. My hands shake just a little now if someone drops something in the next room or outside my door and stopping dead in your tracks and just listening seems to come with the territory but, I wouldn't change a thing.

Shangri La in Iraq!

Well, the drive to Mosul from Baghdad was uneventful thank God. I'm here now and what a difference! There are foothills to the North of the city made up of craggy rocks and sporadic brush and trees. It's looks as if a giant took his hand and clawed from the bottom to the top of every hill. Water flows in places and the whole place is green with low grass and shrubs. The city of Mosul is larger than I imagined. It is bustling with life and at night, they actually have lights throughout most of the city. Directly to the North of Mosul is Kurdistan. I think people are still arguing whether 'Kurdistan' really exists but believe me, they have the border between Kurdish controlled Iraq and regular old Iraq locked down fairly well. The Kurdish soldiers are called the Pesh Merga. I have not had time to look up why they are called such but they are a joy to be around after spending 45 days in the Western desert with the Crazies. Once you cross the border, you go through the foothills for a few miles and into an enormous valley East to West. The soil is fertile and there are farmers selling their wares from the backs of pickups. Potatoes and onions and stuff. To the North of the large valley, you enter the mountains. I have heard since being in country, of the towns in Kurdistan. They are the only places in this country that I have heard of people taking off their flak jackets and walking openly in the streets and shops.

Today, I had the pleasure of doing just this. The drive was beautiful through the mountains. I can fully understand how the Kurds kept the Iraqi army at bay after driving through them. The mountains provide on of the finest defensive positions in the whole country. You must travel through deep valleys to get through them and any invading ground force would be churnned up immediatly when trying to do so. Once in the city, just like in the stories, everyone started dropping their vests and weapons. I was in shock for a while walking on the street and shops without a vest but I was assured when I saw other Americans there doing the same. Like idiots, we'd smile wide and just walk up to each other and introduce ourselves and talk about the place where we were and how wonderful it was. The most surprising thing about the shops was that they held pretty steady with American prices. I thought I'd find cheap shopping heaven but I wasn't dissappointed because they had just about one of everything!

The next and most strange thing that we did was walk into a restaurant. I haven't forgotten what a restaurant is like, but it sure was strange to walk into a restaurant in Iraqi albeit controlled by the Kurdish forces. When we walked in, it was smiles from one end of the restaurant to the other. Everyone said hello and we were seated. The restaurant was a deli style looking place with plastic tables and windows that looked out onto the busy street. I asked for a menu but when I couldn't make heads or tails of even the English part, the waiter took notice and turned the menu over to the pictures. Everything looked great so we all picked our favorite picture and ordered. While the meal was being prepared a host of things were brought to the table apparently as appetizers or to be eaten with the meal. A large dish of sliced cucumbers in a light yogurt sprinkled with fresh dill. My mouth almost fell apart when I ate that because it was so good. Next was a large dish of green olives that had been marinated in what tasted like a white wine. Oh......the joy. A soup was served as was bread and a large plate of Chick peas and also a meatish, vegatable mixture that tasted like the veggies were just picked. At last a centerpeice of varying cut fruits and vegatables and pickles and cheeses was put before us. There were forks and spoons flying all over that table!!! We hadn't even recieved our meals yet!!!! Had I actually been shot at that point, I would have died with a smile on my face!!!

Next came the main course. I can't remember the name of my dish but it was a combination of rice mixed with vegatables and raisins and chicken baked into a bread somehow. the whole thing was about as big as a head of lettuce. My comrades got chicken kabob and my dish as well. When we were just about finished with our meals the waiter brought out a plastic pitcher and placed it on the table. I don't know how he even got the pitcher on the table for all the plates of food that were present!!!!! My friend inquired as to what was in the pitcher. We were told that it was a light yogurt and cream milk mixture for after dinner. It was spooky to look at when my friend drank it but when he gave me the 'You gotta try this' look, off I went. It was delicious as well but I wanted to limit it because I just didn't recognise what it was! After that we shopped for about an hour and drove back.

My last blog was a plea for some sanity and peace. I have found it in the most unlikely of places. They are fighting on a daily basis in Mosul. Helicopters buzz over the city on a constant basis and the fighting will be a while but I know that just to the North, my Shangri La awaits my return.

I Dream Of Invincibility

I don't know why but in the past few days since I've been back in Baghdad, I've been considering the possibilities of invincibility. What I mean to say is, if you look at the overall contractor deaths in the country, and I in no way take away the tragedy of any one of my brothers and sisters deaths here, but the contractors deaths are a very small number even in the two years or so that this has been going on. I keep having a recurring........fantasy about just walking out the gate and up the street to get a morning newspaper and a coffee or something. I am by no means insane as the fantasy suggests though. Only curious. I would like to be invincible for a few hours and just walk around Baghdad or drive with the windows down just waving to the people beside me in traffic. How long would I last? 1 minute? 2 hours? I don't know.

You have to understand that the Americans who live here, live in a bottle of sorts. Sure we see the country and meet the people but we see the country peering out of our tinted windows with weapons at the ready and a stone in our gut just waiting to get it. Even people who have been here for any length of time will tell you, it doesn't get any easier. I wish I didn't have to wait to die while I'm riding through such a beautiful country. I would like to stop and get out if I see something interesting. Daily living is the same way. We are surrounded by Iraqis that are on board with us. We work with these bright, intelligent, and hard working people on a daily basis. The thing that is the most painfull however is the fact that any Iraqi outside of our circles IS, not might be, IS a terrorist. I don't mean that all the Iraqi people are terrorists, I mean, from our standpoint, you have to watch every single thing you do when out with the population.

I'm sure that journalists and others would argue with me that they walk the streets in relative safety in certain parts of the country, but the simple truth is that NOBODY knows... It could come in the car riding next to you. It could come in the way of an IED. It could come from any direction at any time and that is a fact. I truly wish we could solve this problem of terrorism. I think we have to start thinking in terms that are entirely out of the box. We really need to take the politically correct gloves off and finish this thing. But How? That's the million dollar question isn't it? What do they want? For the United States to leave? Why? For what reason? So that a new regime of terror can begin again? So that lives on both sides of the war would be just wasted for nothing? The think that is, I think, the most unfair is that all of the people that I have met here whether it be for my company or another are here to HELP!! They want to go out on the streets and do the job they came to do. Rebuild a country. Instead we all sneak from one secure site to another praying we are not attacked by "insurgents". Once these people learn that their belief in winning is futile. That we will NEVER leave, perhaps they will come to their senses and get on board to make some money or make some kids or make just anything but bloodshed in the name of self interest. When? If I were invincible, I'd let you know.

Back In Baghdad

I'm back in Baghdad. I have my own room. I have food at my fingertips. I have air and internet connection. I have a few days off before I leave for another site up North. The ride back into a city this size was shocking to the system at best. I haven't seen a tree or anything green for a month and a half and the most people I have been around in that time is maybe 200. I was surprised first by the temperature. I rolled my window down a few inches to throw a cigarette out the window while we were driving through Baghdad traffic and my hand felt like I put it in an oven on 100. The temperature in the desert is around 75 or 80 degrees with a cool breeze blowing. Baghdad however, is like a blast furnace. It probably isn't over 90 here but with the traffic and concrete and sun, it feels muggy and sticky.

The sheer amount of people was shocking as well. When you drive through Baghdad, you weave and honk and swerve driving fractions of an inch away from the next car. You never really know when a weapon will be raised or a mortar or car bomb will go off next to you so you nervous system goes on a kind of overload. I was aware of every little thing from the guy in the car next to me to the rooftops some 100 meters away. We made it back to base safe and sound. Once I got here, all the adrenaline drained away and I was tired.

There is a cook in each house. I met the cook for my house who knew I had spent the past month in the field so he asked what I wanted to eat the most. PIZZA!!!! PIZZA!!! He laughed and began to make pizza within the next few minutes. I could smell it cooking in the kitchen and I could barely stand it. By the time I got to sit down to eat it, I looked like someone that has spent a lot of time in the field!!! Everyone laughed and we had a good time. No one is laughing about the pizza anymore because now, that is what the cook makes for lunch and dinner and I've been here for four days!!! HA! Oh well, I'll be rolling out again in a few days so I'm not going to complain.

I'm headed for the North or Iraq for my next stop. I saw pictures of the camp yesterday and that too will be a shock I'm sure. I've been living in a 20 foot cargo box for 45 days and relying on convoys to get what I need. Where I'm going has nice, two story buildings with indoor plumbing and abundant supplies within a few miles. There are trade-offs to this luxery however. There is a lot more fighting there and there a daily mortars in the area. I am actually becoming accustomed to gunfire and loud booms. Here in Baghdad, there are a couple really good gunfights a day. I'll be talking with someone outside, a gunfight breaks out a block away, you both stop talking and listen until it ends and then just pick up the conversation where it left off. Weird. I'll keep my head down and hope for the best.

One more thing. I have been listening to Freedom Radio while I've been here. It's the radio station of the U.S. military. I hope I can record some of it for the people back home. The d.j.'s are upbeat and fun like in the states but unlike the states, the commercials are not for Bud Light. Instead they all talk about safety in the field and being careful when driving through town but they use American commercials to sell safety. Example: Two American soldiers talking "Man, that was the third firefight today!" next soldier: "Yeah, I just wish we had something to wear for better protection while the bullets are flying!" Duck voice: "FlakJak" First Soldier: "Yeah, if they just gave us something to protect ourselves!" Duck voice: "FlakJak!" announcers voice: "Ladies and Gentlemen, you have been given body armor for a reason, it will save your life. Don't get complacent and where it when ever you are out of the green. Duck voice: "FlakJak!!" I about fell off my chair laughing. That's the one thing that surprises me about this war and this place. Nobody has lost their sense of humor. Some things never change!!

Revenge of the Mummy Iraq Style

I went for a drive into the open desert the other day. It was my first time outside the wire for 35 days. We went to look at some desert wreckage that we might be able to find some useful salvage in for our camp. I haven't seen grass for the same amount of time so when I saw a large patch of it to the side, I yelled "Grass, hey look at that, grass!!!" I must have sounded foolish to the person driving because he drives these roads daily. I didn't care though. It's been a long time for me and I liked it. We got a little turned around and radioed to the chase vehicle about the location of the wreckage. The chase turned off the main road and headed out onto a broken shale/sand mix of open land. I looked out the window the whole time and saw nothing but when we began to follow the chase, we went over a slow rise and there it was. If you were lost out here and didn't know you're way, God help you. You could drive or walk right past civilization and never know it. That freaked me out.

We got to the wreckage and did some assesement. There was some good stuff there and we all stood talking about the wreckage when one of the other men I was with said " Now that's some Revenge of the Mummy S$!# there!!". We all looked together to the South and what we saw was a wall of sand maybe a kilometer tall and 12 wide coming right at us. You see this stuff in movies and it looks real neat but I'll tell you, being in the open and seeing this wall of sand approach was anything but neat. The sandstorm was about 3 kilometers out so we decided to take pictures of us in front of it. By the time we finished, it was getting close and there was no asking when we were leaving. It was time.

We drove over the open desert and watched the storm approach from our right. We drove parallel to it for some time. The approach seemed to slow and I got comfortable looking closer at this ominous, awesome spectecle of nature. At the bottom of the storm, there looked to be water vapor or white smoke of some sort. I told the driver and he didn't know what it was either. It was about that time that, and I swear I'm not making this up, the vehicle we were in began to cut out. The driver was saying transmission and I was saying fuel and the guy in the backseat just sat stonefaced and watched the approaching storm. We called the lead and told them about the trouble but that didn't help. They kept about a kilometer or so ahead. Punishing us for picking that vehicle apparently. We laughed about the pace they kept even after reporting trouble. WE both knew it was about the storm. The vehicle chugged and wanted to die but, somehow, did not. We made it back just as the front of the storm was making it's way into camp. We got to our respective shelters and breathed a lot easier.

When I went into my hooch, the sky was still pretty visable and the brunt of the storm seemed about a mile away. I walked to the back of my hooch, got a baby wipe from the case, wiped my hands off and then walked to the front and opened my door. It was like Dorthey opening the door in munchkinland. In front of me was a wall of solid orange. I couldn't see more than 2 feet and the wind was Howling. I slammed the door and told the guy with me. " Holy S@@#, you're not going to believe this!!!!!!!". He came over quickly and gasped as I did. It was a sea of orange dust and sand. Fantastic. Now I knew I had to go check my camp though. Things were flying through the air and you could here things hitting the top of the hooch. I got my goggles and mask and went out. By the time I got the mask and goggles though, the strong part of the storm had let up. Debris was all over the camp and everyone was peeking out of there hiding spots. I've talked to people that have been here for a long time and have never seen one like this. I grew up with snowstorms and thunderstorms that would shock a lot of people and I've been near a couple of tornadoes before but this is one weather event that I'll definately find hard to forget!!!!

My kids

I'm finding it hard to think of my children now. I feel guilty for coming here most of the time when I think of them. I try not to think of what they must be feeling with their daddy gone. They know I'm coming back but what will this really do to them? When I left, I kept telling myself, "Kids are resilient, they won't even know I've been gone when I get home". I'm starting to wonder now. It may just be guilt but I just can't help feeling that they think I've left them. My daughter understands because she's older. She is helping her mother and feeding the new dog they got. She has even raised her grades in two classes since I've been here. She's a good girl and this will help us grow. I dearly miss riding the motorcycle with her. It was our thing and it was something she loved. When I get home, she knows I'll buy a new one and we'll ride but when I think of not riding now, it hurts. I hope she doesn't hold this against me.

My son on the other hand, is very young. He knows his daddy is in the 'far away place'. He doesn't know why. He wonders constantly where I am and he wonders if I'm coming home soon. It kills me inside thinking that he thinks his daddy is gone. He is young enough however to not even remember my being gone but, what are the long term effects? Sometimes it feels like some sick experiement or a game show. "Let's see how long he can last without his family folks and in a foriegn country no less. This should be exciting!!" I can here Bob Hueghbanks voice when I think of it. My son will love me more when I get home. If I don't tell myself that, I won't make it. When I think of my own father being away on midnight shift, I remember feeling like my mother and myself were alone. I would even be scared sometimes. I don't ever want my children to feel that way. I want them to be proud of me and what I'm doing here to help bring change to this country.

There is one good thing I got from this trip when it pertains to my kids. My wife and I laughed before I left when we talked about my daughters first date. I told her that as soon as I got here, I was going to have my picture taken with my gear and weapons on and on my daughters first date, we would put that picture on the coffee table and the kid would say "Who is that?" and my daughter would say. "Oh, that's my dad when he was in Iraq." and he'd be like "OH.....okay". It plants that seed. Even if I'm not fighting here, the seed would be planted. I sent the picture home and my wife is going to hang it up now. I hope I don't get a chance to use my weapons but if it means the difference between seeing my two beautiful children again........well, let's just say, there wouldn't be much in the way of deciding.

The Chess Game...

I used to play chess with my uncle 'Peach' in the summer when I was a child. He lived right down the street. He worked nights so he'd always be out on the front porch in the afternoon. I was raised in a pretty strict household. I appreciate it now that I'm older that my parents had enough respect for me and for themselves to raise me with moral values. It wasn't that my uncle had no morals but he leaned a little more to the left than most anyone I met when I was young. He believed there were UFOs and Bigfoots and that anything was possible in the physical universe. We'd talk about anything and anything I could think of, he'd almost accept as plausible. When I was ten, he started teaching me how to play chess. Once I learned the ins and outs of the game, I was hooked. So many possibilities, so many pieces. It made me feel smarter as a child just to play such a sofisticated game. He'd win most times but never without a lesson. He'd wear cargo shorts and socks and slippers. I loved my uncle.

Well, fast forward 20 years and I'm in Iraq as a man. I've been here for a month and I've only seen guys playing backgammon. I didn't bring a chess set because I brought like, one of everything else. Tonight, I saw one of the cooks carrying a case that could either be checkers or chess. I ignored the urge and just watched. Two cooks walked over to a picnic (iraqi style) table and opened the case. My heart jumped when I saw those pieces coming out of the box. Knights, Queens, Rooks, oh.........It was like an alchoholic trying to walk through a crowded bar filled with free drinks. I tried to maintain until they finished their game. I did. I went to get my evening coffee and there the set sat. My RUSSIAN bodyguard was with me and I couldn't resist anymore. "America vs. Russian?" I said and raising my eyebrows towards the chess set sitting idle in the kitchen. I might as well said I'd give one of my kids away. The russian had the pieces and set out and going in a matter of seconds. I'm going to play a real Russsian in chess I thought. My uncle would have passed out. He died of cancer two years ago and I still love him like he was watching me tonight.

I was white so I made the first move. He moved and I moved......we battled on a kitchen floor model freezer in the middle of the desert in Iraq and it was great!!! We took pieces from each other and in the end........A DRAW!!! I was happy. My first Russian opponent and it ended in a draw. My Uncle Peach would have cried.. Next, the chief cook. Iraqi. Oh he couldn't wait. He gave commentary on the previous match and now it was his turn to play his first American..

It was a great battle. Almost an hour. He soundly defeated me. That's the way the game is though. When it was done, their was one proud Iraqi, one proud Russian and one very satisfied American.........Life really is strange......in a good way....

The Boy

There is a boy in my camp. He's been here since I got here. He works in the kitchen. He's 15 years old. The thing about this boy is that he isn't some hardened third world child that doesn't think like a child. He does. You can see the wonder in his eyes when he sees something new. He cries at the drop of a hat and pouts. He's just like any other kid his age. The only difference is is that he is surrounded by men. In a camp 300 miles from nowhere and earning a real living. His parents are gone. The camp calls him the baby. We're all raising him. He hears cursing and sees man stuff but everyone in camp tries to teach him and take care of him because of his age.

I watched him today. He was standing next to a soldier that he obviously admired. You could watch him thinking of how he could mimick this man because he made some impression on him. I wonder what this experience will do for him or to him in ten years. Will he take the fatherly advice that we give him or will he go the way of the criminals that also reside here? Only time will tell. I asked at one time when he took a short vacation, where does he go. 'Family', they told me. No parents.....maybe aunts or uncles....Grandma? I don't like to think about it. Are they abusive? Do we take better care of him here? He is definetly safer here. When these guys go home, they have to take great measures not to be caught working for the 'wrong' side. Taxis into other towns and doubling back. Hitchhiking. I don't like to even imagine what this child must do just to get from point A to Point B. He does it on his own. God bless him.

The one thing I do know about this boy is that he will be stronger and wiser than most of his American counterparts. It makes you wonder; is Playstation really the answer to creating productive, strong members of American society? Maybe working in the middle of the desert for a year isn't the answer but, maybe, just maybe, if we show our own children the value of hard work and stop protecting them from the unknown, they may also grow to be strong and wise. ?????????

Feelings......

When I saw my wife for the first time, I loved her. Her hair was colored but natural looking. She was small but not weak looking. She carried herself well and that sort of frightened me to a certain extent. High maintenance.....you know.. I stalked her for some time at the video store where she worked. Oh, I could have shopped for videos all day. I didn't want to seem like a weirdo though. I just couldn't get enough of that face. I would listen intently at everything she would say even if it was just "Hey Frank, do we have the widescreen version of Dumbo in?" Ahhhhh sweet music to me!!!!

On one of my recon missions to the video store on night, I was in the foreign film section looking at a Spanish movie about a blind man......I don't know...but, it gave me a good vantage point. I heard my wife talking about _____ her daughter. Daughter?!! Wow, I didn't know. At that point though, I knew I had matured somehow. When I drove home that night, I thought to myself, I'd raise ten of her kids and ten of our own. I wouldn't care as long as each morning when I got up, I'd see her face. I just didn't care what it involved.

I finally rousted my courage and asked a woman at the register what the deal was with her. She said " Oh my, she'd love to meet someone! I'll put your name in her computer and tell her that the next time you come in, she can meet you!!!" Rather a stange approach.....but,,,I didn't care. So, there I was, GO TIME. I knew the next time I went in, the woman would see me and have my future wife wait on me so she could meet me. I spent around 2 hours choosing the right clothing. My roommate was like......."Dude, untucked is fine just go.....your fine.....okay....yes those jeans are good Jesus just go!"

My wife had gotten the message that a strange man wanted to meet her. She had actually been stalked before while working at the video store so she was pretty apprehensive about the whole thing. I drove down to the store and my mouth was so dry it just made a clicking sound when I practiced what I would say when I finally met her. I went in the store and God knows what video I choose but it took upwards of an hour. I watched her watching and working and I wondered just how she would size me up when I finally met her. I got the courage and just went up. The woman I had spoken to saw me coming and mysteriously got the ebola virus and had to rush from her register leaving the woman I would spend the rest of my life with alone there.

I approached and handed her the movie and my card and this is weird but I still remember our hands touching when I gave her the card. She scanned the card......looked up at me....looked down again.....and then again, up at me.....perplexed like....I was like 'Oh God she hates me and I haven't even said a word yet!'. Then, in a excited voice blurted rather loudly, " You're _____?"
I said yes and that was it!!! She expected the Elephant Man but it was just me. She smiled and I smiled and we started talking like we were raised together!! I can't even remember the drive home. I think I was thinking of how I could impress her daughter of 1 year. She's my baby now. She's daddy's girl......just like the movies..

That was ten years ago and I'm in Iraq now. I expected so much pain when I left and some came in the airport but, once I got here.....nothing.. It wasn't from not caring though. It was an emotion that I had never experienced before. On the second night in the desert, I realized what it was. I had never left. The distance wasn't Kryptonite.....crushing me.....it was an affirmation that the girl I had met so long ago was ALWAYS GOING TO BE THERE!! I haven't felt a distance between us because we're still together. All I have to do is close my eyes...........

Smoking in the Boys Tent......

Well, I just had one of those experiences again. I run the camp so the men here all call me 'Mr.' There is separation between me and them. I have my own living quarters with my two bodyguards. My own shower. Stuff like that. I like to mix in with the men and see what they do but they are often apprehensive because......I'm Mr.. I never think of myself as better than any other man in camp but they are very respectful of me because I'm who I am. Anyway.

I was standing in our kitchen around 11:00p.m. getting my coffee ready for letter writing time. There was one cook with me and one of my bodyguards. My PSD is very friendly and as open minded as I am about the people and the country. Anyway, we're standing there waiting for the water to heat and a baker man comes in with what looked to be a small piece of charcoal in between tongs he was carrying it in. I joked with him and said " Oh.....Hashish!!!" and pointed an accusing finger and laughed. He immediately insisted "No, no hashish Mr.!!" I laughed an acknowledging laugh and then we watched as the cook turned on one of our large stoves and put this 'charcoal' thing right into the fire.

This really peaked ***** and my interest. We went and looked at it and then they started trying to explain what it was. I don't always have my interpreter but I get along with a little Arabic, a lot of sign language and a little English. ***** and me had always seen pictures of the men smoking water pipes but as of yet, hadn't smoked ourselves. The men said " Come Mr. to tent come....." I rarely go into the living quarter tents of the men because I let them live their own lives there. When I do go in, it's usually to complain about the camp being a mess or some other infraction of rules. Tonight, we walked in as guests!! The men were visibly nervous when ***** and I walked in the tent but I raised my hand when they began to get up and clean up and said "No, no....Okay....Okay". We were led to a water pipe that sat between two bunkbeds with maybe 15 men surrounding it. We were given seats on the lower bunk facing each other with maybe six feet between us. They were very excited when they realized we were here to see what this smoking was all about. All the men gathered around and watched as if I were about to set myself on fire or something.

The water pipe itself was about 1 foot high with ornate gold and blue inscriptions and a long green hose of maybe 4 feet. The tent smelled of apple and cigarettes. Apparently, it's apple flavored tobacco that we're smoking with a sort of starter block on top. Hard to explain. 'Blackhawk down' played on an old t.v. dvd set in the back of the tent and the whole place seemed to be alive with talking smoking laughing..etc.... The men's excitement mounted as the man next to me explained how to smoke and then handed me the brass end of the hose. I looked over at my PSD and we just gave each other that shoulder shrug like 'When in Rome....?" I smoke but I wasn't sure if I was to inhale this smoke or just puff like a cigar. I inhaled and everyone looked around in great satisfaction. I handed the hose to ***** my PSD and he too smoked. The tent was jubilant!!!!
We passed and passed and laughed and they showed us some music videos from Egypt.

It made me laugh when I looked up and all but about 3 men in camp were standing and looking over shoulders like ' Look!!! Mr. is smoking!!!' Again, I said to myself, how could I have imagined this scene even two months ago??!! It was like something out of a book or a movie!!!! I have a feeling that ****** and myself will be the talk of the camp tommorow!!!! Good Smoke!!

Satellite......

Hello all. When I first arrived here, I marveled at the night sky and how many stars and shooting stars you could see. My Ukrainian P.S.D. (personal security detail) bodyguard mentioned that he had seen a satelite. I remembered back in the States, that I had heard on the radio, a story about viewing the International Space Station. I looked up the site and found the nearest city. NASAs website tells you exactly when and where to look for the space station according to where you live.

When I did it at home, we all went out on the back deck and watched and exactly at the given time and exactly in that direction.....POP. there it came!! We watched it cross the evening sky above us and we all marveled at the technology that was above us and also the mathematics and technology that allowed us to view it at the correct time.

Anyway, I told my Ukrainian friend about this so when he started his early morning shift, I left him a note to wake me at 5:30a.m. because the viewing from baghdad was supposed to occur exactly at 5:58a.m. . We went out around quarter till 6 and I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The MILKY WAY!!!!! I mean aside from the satelite thing, I could see what seemed to be every star in the Universe!! I was astounded. I have always wanted to see a night sky like that because I've heard so many others talk about how amazing it was. Now I"M one of those people!

So my friend and I counted down the minutes till the viewing.....pointing out different stars and talking in the dark.. It's moments like this that I came here for. Talking to a guy from halfway across the world in the middle of a desert in a wartorn country about a combined effort satelite that we were about to see. Life is incredible. At 5:58a.m. we both scanned the night sky and then ***** said "Oh!!!!! LOOK!" and there it was, just like before. We stood in silence and watched it go over...... Life is Good..

DAYS FLY BY!!!

Well, it's been a while, I know but, I've been busy getting this camp together. Really, not much happens here but, in this country, nothing is a good thing!!!! I love getting e-mails. It's good to know that people are thinking of me and I love to send pictures. Speaking of which, I've tried to put pics on this site using the Hello program but, when I go to transfer the pics, I get an error message. I must fix that in my computer.

Okay, anyway. The first thing I must write about is the weather this morning. Every day here has been cool and comfortable but dry with no clouds in sight. This morning however, I walked outside and behold.......rain!!!!! I didn't get to really feel the rain, but, the sky was full of clouds and the rain that had occured here seems to have flattened out the bumpy terrain here in camp. A sort of a.....cleaning effect. Very nice!! I have taken pictures of the clouds because I don't know when I'll see them again!!

I have all but stopped taking Advil everyday. For the first 5 or 6 days, I was dizzy all the time and disoriented. My head ached and my throat hurt. This morning, I feel as if I were born in this country. Last night, I dreamed here for the first time. It is a good sign dreaming. It means deep sleep and to me that is a sign that my body and mind are settling in.

We have had two pretty good sand/dust storms here in the last week. The first lasted 2 days and had the whole camp pretty down for a while. I wore my goggles and a rag to do even the most menial of tasks and our kitchen staff had to keep all doors closed. They did not like that. The second occurred just after dinner the other night. When we went in the tent for dinner, clear skies and decent. When we came out, it looked as though a thin haze of water vapor stood in the air. Eerie looking....ominous.... This dust/dirt was of a different sort compared to the first. The first storm produced large dust particles that were almost painful when they hit your face. The second was very, very fine. You could feel the dust entering your nose and mouth and lungs. Immediatly, you would begin to have coughing fits from it. That lasted through the night and brought with it, strong winds that blew debris everywhere. In the morning, it was nice again and we all cleaned up.

I'm beginning to really get to know the Iraqi guys in camp now. When I take my camera out into the camp, you would think I was throwing gold coins to them!!! A lightbulb went off in my head and I took very careful, thoughtful pictures of each of them. They were so appreciative!!! Oh, they loved looking at the pictures!! That is when they began to let me get closer to them and I was glad.

I have spent the past two evenings sitting in our kitchen surrounded by my new Iraqi friends......laughing....sharing Chigaras.....trading stories.....very good times.
I never considered it before because I am so curious to know how they lived and worked and things that they too want to know about my life. We talk about which people live in the city and the country. They tell me about the war with Iran and how many people fought. They tell me about the Saddam days and what daily life was like under his rule. Oh... that reminds me of a common misnomer that I think many American have about Iraqi people. I must explain this correctly though so as to not offend. The people I have met here are not proud of Saddam but, they are proud of the time that he ruled Iraq. Iraq was a great country some time ago and they are proud of that fact. The relationship between the leader and the country are seperate.

I must go now. I'm going to try to write more this evening because there have been some neat events in the missed time. Be safe everyone....

4 Long Days......

I've sat down to write in this blog about 10 times but, I'm always pulled away by something. I have left the big city for the country now. Well, not exactly THE country. More like, I can see most of the country from where I'm at!!!!! It's hard for someone from the Eastern United States to imagine that there is even a place like this one! There is nothing in each direction for as far as the eye can see. Somehow though, and maybe it's the people I'm with but it doesn't feel like I'm exposed or that I'll never get home. It feels more like.......Breathing room.. It's hard to explain.

My wife is doing better now than when I first left. She was very upset when I first got here. I began to feel very guilty for doing this but, she seems to be settling in now and relaxing now that I'm in camp. I would love to talk about the people I'm working with but due to security, I must be very careful. The people here are very polite and friendly. I think that surprised me more than anything else about the trip. It might just be the situation that we're in but, whatever, I like it. Now that I'm in camp, I will just have the daily grind so there won't be much to tell over the next few weeks but, I will give all the grisly details no matter how monotonous it gets.

My body is adjusting to eating fresh, no preservative food. I thought I'd be eating Iraqi cuisine but, the camp project manager cooks us.....Hamburgers, hot dogs, fresh fish, spaghetti...Etc...Etc..... Oh!! I had the most interesting drink I think I've ever had in my life here! Our chief cook handed me an orange drink in a very thin can. I have a deep respect for him because first, he is here with us and second, he was a warrior in the iran/IRAQ war. I normally despise orange soda and the like but when I drank this.........It was orange!!! I don't mean flavored or added or any of that I mean.....There was an orange crushed up and placed into the can!!!!! WOW I said at first so as to not offend him.....I thought I was going to be sick....You know ....Lumpy drink. Then I realized that it was pieces of orange!! Fantastic. He knew I had never had anything like it and he smiled wide and laughed and slapped me on the back.

That's how it is here. People want to give to you and you want to give to them just as much. You share something you know that very few people share. I like it greatly. Now, on to the 'Other' side of the fence, things are a little different. I don't even know how to describe them. They are friendly enough but, they have such animosity towards everyone and everything. They are treated well by us but there is so much theivery and infighting there that I don't think any of them trust any two others. But, enough of that because, I haven't known them long enough to judge them and.....who am I to judge another man?

I will write again soon with more Iraqi things to talk about. For now, I am safe and having the adventure that I thought I would here!!!!

Mad Max...beyond Baghdad

Well, I'm here now. What a long flight. I'm disoriented about the days and times but everyone here is helping me out. I think that is what suprised me the most is the people here. Everyone is smiling, joking, laughing. It really is like a big family. Security here is very tight. We aren't in the green zone........we're in the Red. Red means danger.

It seems like everyone in this country has a gun. My being armed seems insignificant now. When I left the states, I felt like the Long Ranger....but now...just another guy with guns.

I'm sharing a computer with the other members of my compound now but soon, I will have my own computer and I can write more.

I leave tommorow but not for Mosul like I thought. The place I'm going is about 2 billion miles left of Baghdad in the middle of the desert. It should be very interesting. I do look forward to seeing the stars out there because at home, we are surrounded by city lights. No lights where I am going. I'll write more when I get my laptop.

My last day at home.....

Well, this is it. My mind is racing to figure out if I've forgotten something. I've been packed for three weeks so the chances are slim. I received my menu yesterday and oh boy is my body in for a shock!! I eat like an American now....pizza....McDevils....Krispy-Kreme.... but in 2 short days, I will have to learn Iraqi food exclusively.......Humas? Burgas? Addas? I've tried looking some things up and they didn't even come up! They may just be local recipes. If it's good enough for the Iraqis though, it is good enough for me. I believe after a couple of weeks of detoxing the junk from my system and running fruits and veggies through it, I should actually feel better than what I do now physically.

I'm finally finishing up this confounded bathroom downstairs as well. My wife's Grandfather is coming today (Thank God) to help me complete it. Once that is done, I'll have some private, quiet time with my family as well as confirming my itinerary and getting prepared for Tuesday morning.

Being this sick and taking this crazy two day trip ahead, by the time I reach Baghdad, I should think I'll be one confused and tired individual. That's part of the package though so.......

I will be sooooo glad not to see snow anymore....we got another dusting lastnight and I amTIRED OF IT. Everyone here is. I'm going to try to do my first picture and what better than a picture of SNOW! My front Yard.

Again.......BRRRRRRRRR!!!!! It's 78 in Baghdad today and THAT is one of the things I DO look forward to!!! 

You get the picture!! Oops..I see the date on there. I put that they were taken a couple weeks ago....okay months but it has looked this way up until a couple days ago! 

This is a couple of weeks ago but it shows just how much we get and just how sick of it we can be... 

SOLD!!

Well, I watched my motorcycle drive away with a guy from Virginia. I am much more sad than I imagined about the whole thing. It was a real nice bike. My daughter is more upset because that was kind of our thing. Riding and stopping and getting a snack or a drink somewhere. It was good father/daughter time for us. I'll get a new one when I return and I didn't want it in the way and rusting while I was gone.

My departure date got bumped back a day because of full flights so I'll have time to finish up my honey-doo list. It seems to get bigger the closer it gets to leaving!!
With my being home for almost a month now, my wife and I are starting to rub each other the wrong way. We are both looking forward to my leaving. It's not a divorce thing or anything. Just, constantly on top of each other and each others business. No I don't mean that......hehe.

I bought the wrong size holster that I need to take so I'm taking that back and exchanging it today. It feels weird to wear it. Powerful but with great responsibity. A police friend of mine tells me that I need a 'thumb-break' on it so it is more difficult to disarm me. I like the thought of being able to just jerk it out and use it. I pray I don't have to but I am fully prepared to do whatever is neccesary to get back home to my wife and children. Well, the wife is ready to go. I'll write more when anything happens.

Purgatory

Well, the past two days have been enlightening. I have spent them at the military base 4 hours away trying to get an i.d. that will let me into the country. My company had all the paperwork sent to me and I took it to the base but when I got there, there was a field on the application that was supposed to be filled out by someone in Iraq and it was not. We tried calling and mailing but it was going on midnight there so no luck. I drove and spent the night an hour away at a relative's house. It was nice because I rarely get to see this person and his fiance. We had a nice fish & chips dinner at a little Irish pub and they paid!! I like that. I bought a toothbrush and we went back to their place to watch movies. My nose was running like crazy when we got back to their place and I wondered if I'd be sick again before winter was over.

Sure enough, with the coming of morning, I felt terrible. I drove back to the base for another round of who's-fault-is-it and three hours later, I finally got the i.d. At the same time I was at the base, my wife was e-mailing Iraq to get additional information. She called on my cell to tell me that my departure day was Monday, the 21st. I've been packed for a while and I've said my goodbyes so I'm ready. I drove back home 4 hours feeling absolutely miserable. I used a half a box of tissues so I didn't even go straight home. Instead I went to the doctor to get something for this stupid cold. I can't drag 60 pound bags half way round the world feeling like this. I am dreading it now because I know when Monday rolls around, I'll be in the main throws of the illness. I've never been able to sleep on planes but maybe this time, I will.

My wife feels much better about the whole thing since she spoke to someone on the phone with the company today. They put her mind at ease about the conditions that I'll face over there. The hardest part of the trip so far is coming though.......saying goodbye to my children. I can hardly think about it without getting shaken. At the same time though, children have gone through a hundred times the adversity and come out okay. I will miss them dearly and they will miss me.... They do however look forward to sleeping in Mommy's bed for a whole year!! My son is too young to understand but my daughter is at an awkward age for this. I have spoken to her at length about the trip and assured her that I would run, fight, dig, or mow people down to get back to her and her brother.

I'll write when I hear more but for now, it's just get ready to go time.

Finally.....

Well, I finally got the call to go to the Military base of my choice to get my i.d. card. Getting a hold of someone at one of the bases is proving to be as difficult as getting the job though. I still have no idea how long it will take to get to Iraq from this point but it is something. Maybe the blog helped......yeah right...

The waiting game......

Well, here's the story. A couple months ago, I was on my way to work when I heard a story on NPR about working conditions in Iraq. I was vaguely interested because it would be good money and I thought it would be a real life-changing experience to work in the middle east.....especially with a war going on. Many of us in the construction industry are freelancers. It makes it easy to leave one job to join another which is pretty much the criteria if you want to work overseas.

I applied for several different jobs, made contacts on the ground in Iraq, and researched the country and the war on a nightly basis. My excitement grew as I saw just how many people were working there and all of the stories they told and the pictures they sent back were fantastic! I finally got the call 2 weeks ago but here's the catch. They told me to be ready in a couple of days to leave for Baghdad!!! 2 days!? I ran around like an idiot packing, saying goodbyes. I quit my current job, sold my work truck, sold my motorcycle, had a will made up, got my finances in order, had a long talk with both of my children about leaving, and planned a 2 week vacation that was going to happen in 3 months and then.............nothing......waiting......1 week.....then 2.....now I'm into my 3rd week and I feel like I'm going insane!!!!! Emotionally, I'm drained. I went from running like an idiot to sitting like an idiot. They tell me to "be patient" but I have no idea when this thing is going to happen now..... My wife is ready for me to leave now....I just get in her way wandering around the house in the same clothes for days...... The company assures me that I am going soon and to be patient but there are no updates as to my situation, no calls, no nothing. Sorry for the grammer but that's how it feels. So I wait. I will post again either when I've gone completely off the edge from waiting or when I leave.