First order of business was to head to Liberty pad to catch a blackhawk ride to the IZ. I had four team members with me. The other three remained at Camp Liberty to wrap up the training there. Liberty pad consists of a big concrete landing pad adjacent to three tents. We checked in for our flight then took our seats in the pax tent. I walked back to the admin tent and bummed a cup of coffee off the KBR folks. I think it was reheated coffee from the day before. The immediate effect was that it induced the cramps of impending bowel movement. Unfortunately, the only facilities there are port-o-jons baking in the mid-morning sun. What choice did I have? So I stopped into one and took care of business. It must've been twenty degrees hotter inside the shitter. I was drenched in sweat in less than five minutes. Fortunately, my visit was short. The moral of this paragraph is avoid KBR coffee at Liberty pad - especially in daytime.
Our flight was on time (actually, it was early). We boarded and made the short flight to Washington LZ. My MNF-I FUOPS buddies from 2005 will be happy to know that Washington hasn't changed a bit. The presendential palace/U.S. Embassy looks exactly the same. I quickly pointed out things to my team. This is my old stomping ground. Our ride to Union III arrived within ten minutes so I couldn't show the guys much. We loaded up and rolled. There are a lot more jersey barriers than there were in 2005. This blocks the view from the road of the Tomb of the Unknowns. It looked like the liquor store is still there. I noticed it as we drove past. In no time we were at Union III. This is a very small compound situated right on the very edge of the IZ/Green Zone. It measures perhaps 200 meters by 400 meters. On one end is the giant palace of the Baath Party. It was never finished and to this day has an abandoned construction crane on top. It's now a battalion HQ, barracks, MWR, and gym. On the other end of the FOB is a big mausoleum for the founder of the Baath Party in Iraq. It's an ornamental place with a large blue dome and fountains (no longer working). Since Union III is so cramped the mausoleum also serves as a barracks. Once my team arrived the unit we were inspecting took us to our billets. A special five-man room had been built of plywood for us in the only space available - underneath the mausoleum dome and right next to the dead guy. I'm not kidding. We were crammed into a hastily constructed room with two bunk beds and a cot. One wall of our mausoleum room was less than three feet from the tomb of the Baath Party VIP. There was no ceiling to our room so we had a great view of the dome and chandelier dangling from it's apex. In a country full of complex surreal this took the cake so far.
We wasted no time. As soon as we were in our new digs we moved out on our inspections. We were here to check the serviceability of containers for a unit that's headed home soon. It was blazing hot. Despite the small size of the FOB there were armored vehicles moving everywhere - strikers, humvees, a Bradley IFV, an M1A2, Palladins, and M88 recovery vehicles. All of the sidewalks, cobblestones, and paved roads were shattered from all the heavy vehicle traffic. I kept wondering who was going to fix all of this. We hurried through our inspections in an attempt to beat the heat. Around 1600 we took an extended break and I decided we'd finish the next morning. I could see signs that my team was wearing out quickly.
Before supper we took a quick tour of the big palace. Whole sections of the place are still devastated from the "shock and awe" bombing back at the beginning of the invasion. Soldiers are everywhere. Iraqis work here too. They have shops selling dry goods, cigars, coffee, and, of course, pirated DVDs. There's a barber shop and a very nice coffee shop that appears to have been a bar at one time for the Baath Party cronies. I bought a Cuban Montecristo #4 from one of the shops and will put it in my portable humidor when I return to Balad. Alongside the troops are several interpreters - male and female. I was forwarned to watch out for the women. Apparently, they are all looking for a husband so they can move to the U.S. Officers - especially high ranking - are their targets. I noticed a few of them take quick notice of the unfamiliar Lieutenant Colonel walking around. Iraq is going to be the next Korea for soldiers. Those of you in uniform know exactly what I'm talking about.
I had noticed that a West Point classmate commands one of the battalions here. Being such a small place I knew I'd run into him. It didn't take long. I saw him at supper. We talked it up for awhile. I asked if he was going to the reunion. He looked at me, shrugged, and said, "It's not that I don't want to. You understand?" Yeah, I understand completely. I'll pass on his regards while I'm on R&R. It was great to see him. He looked exactly as he did when he was a cadet - just some gray around the ears. He commented that he couldn't believe it had been twenty years. I agreed.
Before we all called it a night a lieutenant from the host unit gave us a tour of the command post underneath the mausoleum. It's a whole labyrinth of hallways and rooms that now house Joes (as many as ten to a room). The lieutenant was pointing out to us where we could find bottled water, MRE's, and other sundry items if we needed them. Along the walls were crayon drawings from school kids back home. One drawing had a special place on the wall separate from all the others. It was obviously a Joe favorite. When I saw it I couldn't believe it and busted a gut laughing. A nine-year old named "Mike" had drawn a typical crayon sketch of clouds, the sun, and a U.S. soldier firing his gun. On the receiving end was a terrorist, who's brains were spewing out the back of his head. Scrawled across the sketch in a 9-yr old's handwriting were the words "Die motherfucker Die!" I took a photo of the sketch since I knew the Joes wouldn't let me steal the thing.
Afterward came my highlight of the day. As I walked back outside I noticed a Joe bending over touching something. I knew immediately what it was - a cat! I forgot everything I was doing and hurried over to the cat. It was even better. Turns out it was a momma cat with three kittens. I dropped to my knees and was immediately surrounded by all of them. They were purring, playing, and rubbing against me. I talked to them and petted them for over a half an hour. I completely forgot myself in kitty heaven. My team got tired of waiting on me and moved on. I didn't care. For a few moments I was one with the cats. The momma had been "adopted" by some of the medics. The kittens were at that playful size that is most adorable. When I was finished playing with the cats I stopped by the latrine and thoroughly washed my hands. After all, they are stray cats in Iraq. They sure were docile and cute though.
Our flight was on time (actually, it was early). We boarded and made the short flight to Washington LZ. My MNF-I FUOPS buddies from 2005 will be happy to know that Washington hasn't changed a bit. The presendential palace/U.S. Embassy looks exactly the same. I quickly pointed out things to my team. This is my old stomping ground. Our ride to Union III arrived within ten minutes so I couldn't show the guys much. We loaded up and rolled. There are a lot more jersey barriers than there were in 2005. This blocks the view from the road of the Tomb of the Unknowns. It looked like the liquor store is still there. I noticed it as we drove past. In no time we were at Union III. This is a very small compound situated right on the very edge of the IZ/Green Zone. It measures perhaps 200 meters by 400 meters. On one end is the giant palace of the Baath Party. It was never finished and to this day has an abandoned construction crane on top. It's now a battalion HQ, barracks, MWR, and gym. On the other end of the FOB is a big mausoleum for the founder of the Baath Party in Iraq. It's an ornamental place with a large blue dome and fountains (no longer working). Since Union III is so cramped the mausoleum also serves as a barracks. Once my team arrived the unit we were inspecting took us to our billets. A special five-man room had been built of plywood for us in the only space available - underneath the mausoleum dome and right next to the dead guy. I'm not kidding. We were crammed into a hastily constructed room with two bunk beds and a cot. One wall of our mausoleum room was less than three feet from the tomb of the Baath Party VIP. There was no ceiling to our room so we had a great view of the dome and chandelier dangling from it's apex. In a country full of complex surreal this took the cake so far.
We wasted no time. As soon as we were in our new digs we moved out on our inspections. We were here to check the serviceability of containers for a unit that's headed home soon. It was blazing hot. Despite the small size of the FOB there were armored vehicles moving everywhere - strikers, humvees, a Bradley IFV, an M1A2, Palladins, and M88 recovery vehicles. All of the sidewalks, cobblestones, and paved roads were shattered from all the heavy vehicle traffic. I kept wondering who was going to fix all of this. We hurried through our inspections in an attempt to beat the heat. Around 1600 we took an extended break and I decided we'd finish the next morning. I could see signs that my team was wearing out quickly.
Before supper we took a quick tour of the big palace. Whole sections of the place are still devastated from the "shock and awe" bombing back at the beginning of the invasion. Soldiers are everywhere. Iraqis work here too. They have shops selling dry goods, cigars, coffee, and, of course, pirated DVDs. There's a barber shop and a very nice coffee shop that appears to have been a bar at one time for the Baath Party cronies. I bought a Cuban Montecristo #4 from one of the shops and will put it in my portable humidor when I return to Balad. Alongside the troops are several interpreters - male and female. I was forwarned to watch out for the women. Apparently, they are all looking for a husband so they can move to the U.S. Officers - especially high ranking - are their targets. I noticed a few of them take quick notice of the unfamiliar Lieutenant Colonel walking around. Iraq is going to be the next Korea for soldiers. Those of you in uniform know exactly what I'm talking about.
I had noticed that a West Point classmate commands one of the battalions here. Being such a small place I knew I'd run into him. It didn't take long. I saw him at supper. We talked it up for awhile. I asked if he was going to the reunion. He looked at me, shrugged, and said, "It's not that I don't want to. You understand?" Yeah, I understand completely. I'll pass on his regards while I'm on R&R. It was great to see him. He looked exactly as he did when he was a cadet - just some gray around the ears. He commented that he couldn't believe it had been twenty years. I agreed.
Before we all called it a night a lieutenant from the host unit gave us a tour of the command post underneath the mausoleum. It's a whole labyrinth of hallways and rooms that now house Joes (as many as ten to a room). The lieutenant was pointing out to us where we could find bottled water, MRE's, and other sundry items if we needed them. Along the walls were crayon drawings from school kids back home. One drawing had a special place on the wall separate from all the others. It was obviously a Joe favorite. When I saw it I couldn't believe it and busted a gut laughing. A nine-year old named "Mike" had drawn a typical crayon sketch of clouds, the sun, and a U.S. soldier firing his gun. On the receiving end was a terrorist, who's brains were spewing out the back of his head. Scrawled across the sketch in a 9-yr old's handwriting were the words "Die motherfucker Die!" I took a photo of the sketch since I knew the Joes wouldn't let me steal the thing.
Afterward came my highlight of the day. As I walked back outside I noticed a Joe bending over touching something. I knew immediately what it was - a cat! I forgot everything I was doing and hurried over to the cat. It was even better. Turns out it was a momma cat with three kittens. I dropped to my knees and was immediately surrounded by all of them. They were purring, playing, and rubbing against me. I talked to them and petted them for over a half an hour. I completely forgot myself in kitty heaven. My team got tired of waiting on me and moved on. I didn't care. For a few moments I was one with the cats. The momma had been "adopted" by some of the medics. The kittens were at that playful size that is most adorable. When I was finished playing with the cats I stopped by the latrine and thoroughly washed my hands. After all, they are stray cats in Iraq. They sure were docile and cute though.
2 comments:
Sir,
I have enjoyed reading your entries and photos of Iraq. Could I quote your blog entries and use a photo for a presentation I am giving about dust storms?
Thanks very much,
Ben B.
Come On!!!! I can't imagine you... sitting in the dust....surrounded by pussy.... I the middle of the compound..... I love pussy too....But I have my limits as to when and where! hehehehe
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