Monday, January 26, 2009
"Life" in Iraq
Everyone always wants to know, "What is it like out there?" I have a hard time describing it to people.
The past few days have been stressful. Whenever adversity hits me in a deployed location, I tend to become more focused on my routine. I take great comfort in the smallest of milestones, living day by day, meal by meal, and hour by hour, reveling in the small victories. The days become a blur. The only way to know the day of the week is to look at the bottom right of my computer screen.
When we are so focused on the most immediate tasks at hand, military members often forget that the sights and sounds of a military base in Iraq are quite different than the sights and sounds at home. You become where you are.
Normal becomes rolling out of bed in the middle of the night to stumble over rocks to the nearest port-a-potty. Normal becomes the crunching of rocks underneath our boots, the gentle hum of generators, and humvees roaring by. I often awake to the sounds of jets roaring over my head, the vibrations of low flying helicopters, and the rattle of automatic weapons at the range.
An occasional "boom" is about the only thing that shakes our focus. We all stop typing for a moment and look at teach other waiting for another "boom." If there are several in a row, then it is probably a controlled detonation. If only one, we wonder how close the rocket attack came. Then we go back to what we were doing.
But, a few days ago, Iraq stood still. I was walking to the chow hall and I noticed that it was actually a beautiful day. Absent the usual dust haze, the sun was bright and the sky was clear. The base was quiet. I saw something flutter out of the corner of my eye. As I looked up, I saw a colorful bird delicately perched on razor wire right next to fifteen foot blast walls. I realized that I hadn't seen a living animal since I had left the States. I just stood there and enjoyed my new friend before he flew away.
It sounds strange, but I felt a sense of peace. I remembered a distant life far away; for a moment I wasn't in Iraq, and I remembered why I am doing this.
The past few days have been stressful. Whenever adversity hits me in a deployed location, I tend to become more focused on my routine. I take great comfort in the smallest of milestones, living day by day, meal by meal, and hour by hour, reveling in the small victories. The days become a blur. The only way to know the day of the week is to look at the bottom right of my computer screen.
When we are so focused on the most immediate tasks at hand, military members often forget that the sights and sounds of a military base in Iraq are quite different than the sights and sounds at home. You become where you are.
Normal becomes rolling out of bed in the middle of the night to stumble over rocks to the nearest port-a-potty. Normal becomes the crunching of rocks underneath our boots, the gentle hum of generators, and humvees roaring by. I often awake to the sounds of jets roaring over my head, the vibrations of low flying helicopters, and the rattle of automatic weapons at the range.
An occasional "boom" is about the only thing that shakes our focus. We all stop typing for a moment and look at teach other waiting for another "boom." If there are several in a row, then it is probably a controlled detonation. If only one, we wonder how close the rocket attack came. Then we go back to what we were doing.
But, a few days ago, Iraq stood still. I was walking to the chow hall and I noticed that it was actually a beautiful day. Absent the usual dust haze, the sun was bright and the sky was clear. The base was quiet. I saw something flutter out of the corner of my eye. As I looked up, I saw a colorful bird delicately perched on razor wire right next to fifteen foot blast walls. I realized that I hadn't seen a living animal since I had left the States. I just stood there and enjoyed my new friend before he flew away.
It sounds strange, but I felt a sense of peace. I remembered a distant life far away; for a moment I wasn't in Iraq, and I remembered why I am doing this.
# posted by Kima McCoy @ 7:08 PM 
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Hey Kima, I'm a fellow Johnson Blogger as well :)
I really enjoyed this post, well done. My best friend was in combat for two years and has spoken a lot about the Booms. I am glad you're back. See you are Sage!
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I really enjoyed this post, well done. My best friend was in combat for two years and has spoken a lot about the Booms. I am glad you're back. See you are Sage!
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