11 January 2008: Snow?! In Baghdad?!

I woke up about 0300 to the sound of rain. It's a soothing sound when you are warm and dry. I quickly fell back into a deep sleep. My neighbor woke me up with his normal morning noises. He gives new meaning to the three S's of manhood - shit, shower, shave. Looking at my watch, I saw that it was going on 0700. I got up and started coffee. While I waited for my neighbor to finish up his usual water splashing, I kept hearing Joes outside yelling in a curious manner. By that I mean they were saying things like, "Get out here! You ain't gonna fuckin' believe this!" This would be followed shortly later with, "You gotta be fuckin' kidding me!" Well, I had to see what was going on. Upon opening the door of my hooch, I was met with a most unexpected surprise. It was snowing! SNOW?! IN BAGHDAD?! That's when I said, "You've gotta be fuckin' kidding me!" Actually, it was a wintry mix. It was coming down very hard and steady. Visibility was very poor. The flakes were heavy and wet. They melted as soon as they hit the ground. I tried to take a photo. Nothing came out right. Every picture I took just looked like heavy fog and mud. Nobody knows if this has ever happened before. I heard later that some say it snowed briefly back in 1940 (or thereabouts). Some people are claiming this is the first time in recorded history that snow fell in Baghdad. We were here to witness the event.

Let me make certain that nobody reading this now assumes Camp Liberty became a winter wonderland. This is Iraq. It had been raining most of the night. The "suck factor" has been multiplied by 100. It's cold. It's wet. There's deep mud everywhere. My team had inspections scheduled. The unit we were supporting contacted us to cancel. That was good news. In the blink of an eye, this place has been transformed into a sea of the shittiest, stickiest, slickest mud imaginable. It's unavoidable. Every vehicle is plastered, every boot is caked, every Joe is gingerly stepping in a failed attempt to avoid ruining boots and uniforms. Mud is now tracked into the DFAC, the MWR, the gym, every HQ building, and, of course, every hooch.

I wasn't going to let the mud disaster prevent my workout. Oh, the snow? It ended around 0830. Anyway, I wasn't about to ruin my running shoes walking to the gym. Instead, I wore my boots and carried my running shoes. About halfway to the gym a Sergeant Major popped out of nowhere to confront me. "Those boots ain't authorized with PT uniform." I was not amused. I said, "SGM, I could care less. For once, can common sense be applied to uniform standards? I am NOT going to take these boots off and ruin my running shoes." He frowned and snarled, "What's your name?" I told him and added, "go ahead, report me to the mayor's cell!" Upon learning my rank, he said, "Sir, I apologize. I'm just doing what I was told."

"I know SGM. I'm not in your unit either. However, I'd recommend you use initiative and see that what I'm doing is common sense. It prevents running shoes from getting ruined AND it keeps the gym facilities clean. Perhaps you should ask your commander for permission to authorize boots for your soldiers going to and from the gym. In the meantime, have a nice day."

Anyway, it snowed this morning. For all intents and purposes, it snowed mud.