Happy Mother's Day! For one of my presents (hope everyone got their flowers - thanks hon!) I had to go out to a suburb of Baghdad called Rustimyah on the Southeast side on Tuesday....so I didn't tell you about it until well after I got back! Howz that for a present! Before I go on as well, I wanted to insert a link into here from the American Spectator - Ben Stein wrote an article, that I think Stars and Stripes picked up. There are just some things in it that coupled with life here are hitting home... http://www.spectator.org/dsp_article.asp?art_id=9633
So, flying to Rustimyah. Tuesday started out easily enough - rolled in to work, checked email, started to track down a couple of things, when we got the word that we had to send someone out to Rustimyah to collect some data from a vehicle.
By way of explanation, my job here as engineer constitutes everything that involves the guts of the electronic devices we manage, and until more of our folks get out into the field - sometimes it involves going myself. So, in the course of about an hour, it was a mad scramble to pack an overnight bag (just in case!), grab my gear, and drive to the airport with Drew, my trusty sidekick and civilian engineer from the contract office, who probably makes twice as much as I do!
We waited around the Baghdad International Airport (military side) for about an hour, before we almost missed the flight, because the coordinator forgot about us. Midday, we boarded a "air convoy" of two UH-60 Blackhawks, complete with twin gunners for an exciting 15 minute flight to the other side of the city.
You will never get this view of a city, unless you spend time as a traffic observer. We were about 200 feet off the deck at the highest - we had to keep hopping over power lines in order to keep a low enough profile to minimize attacks. From this vantage point, we saw large palaces built by saddam, and mini-palaces of mud and brick built by families wanting to afford their kids the opportunity to play outside, but not be targets. Granted, much of this is traditional arab culture, but it is eerie to see city streets virtually empty midday.
We landed in Rustimyah and immediately were whisked away (in a SUV so overarmored that every speed bump we went over, the shocks bounced for 3/4 of the next block!) at 5-10 MPH a couple of blocks down the road to the HQ for the unit we were working with. Talk about an impressive bunch of guys. All starved and clamoring for information about the gear we provide. Wanting not only reassurance, but information and to tell their stories about what they had found out. IED's are such a big thing here, that when I meet with units, they are full of ideas and suggestions on how to win this fight.
This particular unit, the 49th MP brigade (I feel comfortable passing this out for two reasons - these guys are AWESOME, and also, this particular incident was reported in open press) just impresses the hell out of me. They had been hit particularly hard. Two KIA in one vehicle, one WIA seriously, but the driver walked with only a few scratches, and was back on the job in a couple of hours. While they all dealt with the pain and heartache separately, I am sure, these KIDS are tough. They look like kids, they sound like kids, they listen to Eminem, country, hard rock, heavy metal, and music that every 20-25 year old stateside listens to. Just don't expect to walk away in one piece if you happen to run into one of them in a dark alley if you happen to be a 6'9" Terrorist with a kidney problem.
So after working on one vehicle, and having eight others show up for additional help, we finished up and processed the data and made our way back to the airport to await our return flight...... unfortunately, it seemed that since we flew standby, we weren't scheduled for a return flight until almost midnight..... the following day!
So we were checked into the Rustimyah temporary housing facility. Formerly an Iraqi Hospital. Keep in mind, under Saddam, hospitals were not places of "care". We were escorted into the basement floor. Granted, it was dry and a cot (yes, I didn't have enough space to accomodate my sleeping bag - a mistake I will not make again). No blanket, no pillow. Our escort cheerfully let us know that when they first took over the "hospital" the basement was full of about 3 feet of water.....and dead bodies. And with a cheery goodnight, off he went. Luckily, the only spirits that haunted me, seemed to be in my lower back and neck. Sleep was tentative, but eventually fruitful.
The next day, we spent walking the base - a couple of interesting interactions and shops. It was nice to see that marketing is alive and well in Iraq! The basement of the hospital was also occupied by a handful of shops, and an internet cafe, so we got some time to spend there - interestingly enough when you type on an arabic keyboard, it looks exactly like the cuss words I am thinking about! In some cases, better than saying something like @#$%!@#$!
Our return trip was exciting, but dark, so no pictures. When you figure the number of flights going on every day, and the number of stops these pilots have to make on a typical route, and the number of routes they fly daily.... They take a huge risk without even flinching. It's funny too how we try so hard - mostly subconciously - to put people into boxes and classify them. I sat there on the flight back watching one of the gunners - the lights were out, and the only things I could see on him were his eyes - he had a mask over his face, and the low level Night Vision Goggles
(NVG's) lit his eyes and nose in a green light. It occurred to me shortly into the flight, that I couldn't in the light determine what race "classification" he was. Not that it really mattered, but we as humans have such a need to put people into categories, and bring into the discussion all of our "baggage". If anything you do soon realize however, that it doesn't matter - he had on the same uniform I do, and we are on the same team. The military to a broader extent, and combat to a smaller extent does that to you - there are no atheists in foxholes, and no klansmen in a combat zone I guess.
So anyways, I got back safe and sound, if not a little stinkier and tired. Things have returned to normal in the short term...as normal as you can be here. I sit here now on Mother's day thinking of all the time past where Mother's day seemed by comparison so much more low key and empty. Today however, when I think of those outside the wire on a mission, in a helo, or standing watch somewhere, I honor the mothers (especially my own, my wife, my sister - her first official one - Angie, your next one, Mom F. too!) for their support, sacrifice, and patience in waiting for their sons and daughters to return. We are taking care, "staying stron" and take today to honor your sacrifice. Happy mother's day
Sorry I don't have more pictures of our courtyard, the area outside of where we live is a NO PICTURES zone. After he already broke the first camera, I think he would really be in trubble if he gots the new one taken away!
