I am not sure why I felt this so personally. I didn’t know him. I knew the places he knew and I knew his comrades faces – all those faces full of grief. The service and the eulogy were short. He was only a few days past his 19th birthday and had not been in Iraq very long, too young to be gone. They said that he liked to play football, wrestle and ride dirt bikes. The pictures showed a young man who liked to lift weights.
He could have been my son. In fact, his age falls almost exactly between Alex & Espen. I thought about the decision he had made. He joined the Army during a time of war, virtually certain to be sent where war was being waged. It was a brave and honorable decision. His parents were proud of him but their pride was tempered by anxiety about the dangers. I am sure that he told them that his chances of coming safely home were very good, and he was right, but no matter the odds, sometimes things go wrong.
And sometimes it just hits you. As I sat there I felt a deep sadness for the young man I never met and the heartbroken family I will never see. It was one of those everyman moments. “Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.” His best friend gave a tribute with all the eloquence of a 19-year-old speaking from the heart. His friend was looking after him and he was looking after his friend, but sometimes things go wrong. I watched his colleagues, Americans and Iraqis he worked with, pay their respects. They felt the loss. I offered condolences to his friend, but I don’t think he heard me. His thoughts were far away.
Back at the cans, a dust storm blew in stinging the eyes and throats.
Above is the city of Hit looking over the Euphrates.
The town is pronounced HEAT with a little more emphasis on the ee. I don’t really have much to say about this trip that I can share on the blog, but I wanted to include some pictures from our foot patrol.
Above is the river scene. Very nice. The water is not 100% clean, so you are a little better off looking at the picture than experiencing the entire scene.
Hit was one of the last places in our AO where the insurgency was defeated, so the people are still adjusting to relative peace. People here just want to hold onto what they have and it looks like they will get to do that. We got a good reception as we walked through town. People were friendly. Little kids came to ask for candy. Bigger kids tried to speak to us in English. They could often say things like “What’s happening?” in a good English accent, but they usually could not actually understand responses.
I learned a little about local media. There really isn’t much of any except a few newsletters. Many people have satellite dishes. They are a status symbol and I was told that a lot of those satellite dishes do not have working televisions attached. People buy the dish first in hopes of getting a TV later and as a status symbol now. I don’t know if that is true. It sounds more like a joke. People like to tell us stories like that.
There were late model cars on the road and a fair amount of traffic even thorough we were well past the usual rush hours. Iraqis do most of their business in the morning and most of their recreation after dark. This makes a lot of sense given the hot climate. Mornings and evenings are pleasant.
Below – still not a nice place, but getting better.
Anyway, yesterday was a long day, but the walk through town made it worthwhile.
Below – Hit is an irregated agricultural area and the town is full of shops fixing pumps and engines. It looks like a junk heap, but a lot of guys were hard at work. They proudly showed us their tools and they seemed to be real craftsmen.
I got a good impression from the visit to Hit. It was good to see so many people actually at work. We often pass lots of young men just standing around, smoking. Today, it seemed every adult was doing something useful. Maybe I just hit Hit at the right time.
This is a tradition US Grant would have recognized. Cigars have long been a part of military life. I don’t know if George Washington smoked cigars, probably a hazard to a man with wooden teeth, but he did grow tobacco and make cigars on his estates.
The weather this time of the year in Iraq is good. Mornings are cool; afternoons are hot and evenings are pleasant, so the Marines take the opportunity to talk in the warmth of the evening and smoke cigars.
Some of them have a cigar club. They get the cigars and all the accessories from a place call Thompson Cigars of Florida. Sometimes I understand that firms and individuals sent cigars free. That is a gift many Marines really appreciate.
I do not smoke cigars, or anything else for that matter, but I can well understand the attraction of the shared interest. I never disliked cigars as I dislike cigarettes and there is something very comforting, secure and primal about sitting in circle in the evening, exchanging stories and just being the company of other men. It probably goes back to our ancient hunter-gatherer ancestors sitting around the fire, telling stories about the mammoth that got away. The fire kept dangerous animals out of the circle and the smoke from a campfire kept the bugs at bay. I don’t know how well the cigars work for these things.
Tandoori Tuesday
Most of the people who work for KBR at the chow hall come from South Asia. I think it started as a way to make them feel more at home. Every Tuesday they serve Indian style food. This is spiced to the taste of those who appreciate it. I had some today. It was a bit to hot for me and now I am paying the delayed price. When I was in college and had a roommate from Pakistan, I used to eat a lot of kima mutter and with time I tolerated more and more curry. I have lost that immunity.
Fortunately I have some “Pink Bismuth” (the PX usually carries generic brands).
Dust Everywhere We had some big dust storms while I was gone, but my can was tightly closed so I thought I might avoid some. I was wrong. I write the word on the book to show the dust. This deposited since I was gone. Note the color. It is not the kind of dust you find around the house. All my clothes were dusty. My toothbrush was dusty. My bed was dusty. It just didn’t show up well in the pictures, so the best way I can show is with the dusty books above. They were relatively clean when I left.
Usually, I sweep up or dust a little every day. It is always dusty, but usually not this bad as a result. You really don’t appreciate how much dust there is until you go away for a while.
When I first took over my office & this can where I live, I was a little annoyed with my predecessor. I though he left the place a bit gritty. Now I understand that he just moved out a couple days before I moved in and that is all it takes to make the place as dusty as the Addams Family mansion.
It makes me much better appreciate places like the chow hall. They always keep that place really clean and continually are winning the dust wars.
Office transition
My staff members are still in tents. I am in an office can. It is not unpleasant and my colleagues were very good to me. They dusted it, so I can home to a relatively clean environment there. Good to have a little help from your friends. They are suffering mightily, however, with the heat and the dust in the tents.
Office space geography is a challenge. I like to do MBWA – management by walking around. Lots of little problem can be solved before they become big problems and lots of opportunities can be generated before the sparks are lost if the boss is just there to nudge. Good management is not really rocket science and just being there is much of the secret to success. That is how I can add value to my already great team. This office/tent arrangement makes it much harder. I have to make a special point to walk out to the tent. I see that I could easily get stuck and isolated in my office can. There are certainly many things to do in the office, but usually when you are sitting at the desk you appear busier with important things than you actually are. As I said above, I believe in peripatetic management. It helps build the team and empowers every good worker.
Fortunately, this construction period won’t last too long. I talked to the guys actually doing the work and even the pessimistic scenario says end of May. They are putting the wiring behind the walls (instead of hanging in front), repainting, giving us a real ceiling and generally improving the area. My team members will also get two Plexiglas windows, like I have. I think natural light is important and this will take away from the cave atmosphere. It looks like we might get something that looks like a real office.
The guy doing the construction told me that it will still be dusty, however. Even if they seal the windows and make the doors tight, we cannot avoid the dust.
A Cola Free Environment
The chow hall has a serious problem – no diet cola of any kind. We have no diet Coke AND no diet Pepsi. This is a serious problem with the hot weather setting in. I don’t know how long the crisis situation will persist. The guys I talked to did not seem to know. They are waiting for a shipment.
I have a supply in my refrigerator. A dozen cans, which is good for a couple of days. I fear I may be forced to drink diet Sprite (which they still have) or even … water.
UPDATE: Since I wrote this, diet Coke has returned, hallelujah.
Hair Today; Gone Tomorrow
Speaking of water, on the way up I met a woman who was going to Baghdad. She asked me if I thought the water here made your hair thin or fall out. I don’t know what made her think I would know anything about hair matters. Of course, maybe she just thought that I understood bald.
My speculation is that it is not the water, but the dust. This dust is alkaline and it always covers everything, including people. I no longer really have a hair problem, but I do notice that my skin gets dry and flaky. When I was in the U.S. I noticed it was not so much a problem, but it starting in again now. Living in this desert is like daily exfoliation using 20-Mule-Team Borax.Maybe hair is related. Or maybe the hair thing is just perception. I didn’t have much hair when I arrived. I don’thave less now. Long, pretty hair is not much of a concern to me or to most of the guys I work with.
Working in Iraq
Maybe I complain too much. I really like my colleagues here & the job we are doing together. When I am done with Iraq, I don’t think I will miss anything about the place, but I will miss the people I work with, both Americans and Iraqis. Why can’t I get a job like this in a nicer place?
Below – I had limited success with sunflowers. My colleagues kept them alive while I was gone, but only three came up. Maybe that is emblematic of all our work in Iraq. The construction workers have been very good and careful in avoiding them.
The big base at Ali Al Salem has a reasonably good chow hall, a nice MWR and a decent, if not great place to sleep. But the whole installation is like a giant waiting room in a giant bus terminal in the Twilight Zone.
First you have to get all your papers stamped. This is a fairly efficient, if confusing process. Suffice to say, go to one tent to mill around until you figure out what to do, but do not leave until there is some kind of stamp on your travel orders. That stamp is what lets you fly or take the bus. W/o that stamp you will become a resident of the place.
Below C17 loading. People get on first and wait for the gear to be loaded.
Another tent is where you catch the flights to Iraq. You have to sign up for the place you want to go. It might take a long time or not to get out. In my case this time, I was very luck and got out the same night I came in. This is uncommon.
After sign up, you have to attend a general roll call twice a day. If you fail to show up, you lose your place. You also have to attend a specific role call for the flights going where you want to be. You are not guaranteed a space. They read off the names of people for whom they have space. If they read your name and you say “here”, you get manifested for a specific flight. That does not guarantee you will go or that the flight will fly, but it is a necessary step.
Each flight has a show time. You show up will all your gear and get ready to wait. In my recent case, we had a 2315 roll call where they told us we had a midnight show time. We got on buses at 0145; the plane took off at around 0315 and we were in Al Asad a little more than an hour later.
After show time, you go on “lockdown”, which means you cannot leave the terminal expect to go to the bathroom. Even that is risky, since they may call your flight at any time … or not. You want to be around when announcements are made. That is why you need a buddy system. Make sure that you ask someone to listen for you if you need to make a head call. In my above example, we were locked down for an hour and 45 minutes and this was three hours and fifteen minutes before the flight. Makes you appreciate air travel in the U.S., bad as that can be. For me, this was a great trip. Sometimes people get stuck for days or weeks.
C17 above – you can see the moving plates.
Our flight was a C17, which is an enormous, cavernous aircraft, like a flying warehouse. The floor has rollers and modules that make it easy to switch out cargo or seats. They just lock them into place and that is it.
I like the C17 because it is faster and marginally more comfortable than a C130. Beyond that, there are lots of seats on the C17, so you usually don’t have to worry so much about getting bumped off it. Despite my exalted civilian protocol rank, I get no priority, so I am liable to get bumped if someone or something important comes along.
An experienced traveler more than 5′ tall tries to get a seat on the side or in the very front. It is a tight fit.
Above – reading lights are not so good in flight.
Back to Al Asad
We arrived in the early morning and it was comfortably cool. I was happy to feel that weather. As soon as the sun came up, however, it started to get hot. Within about a half hour you could feel the difference. It still is nothing like it will be, but we have the harbingers of heat all over the place.
Above – the road to Camp Ripper. It reminds me of the closing scene of the old “Hulk” TV show, when David Banner has to hit the lonely road.
I decided to walk down. It is only a 25 minute walk and it was pleasant in the early morning calm. I am really glad I did that. It gave me a better impression of Al Asad as I returned and took a little of the edge off the dread I was feeling on coming back. This is an unpleasant place, but it is not that terrible. I also looked forward to getting back to the job and back to my friends and colleagues working here.
Above is Boyton, Va, about 30 miles west of my tree farm. It is a very charming place, but not growing very much. It once sat on the main lines of communication. Not anymore.
I am hoping to buy another piece of forest land down in Brunswick County. This would be 114 acres, about 90 acres in 12-year-old loblolly pine, the balance in stream management zones with natural regeneration hardwood stands from 1940. This part of the state is Virginia’s “wood basket”. The population has dropped over the years and collapse of the tobacco industry has pushed lots of worn out or marginal lands into trees. That is why land is relatively cheap. The soils are good for growing pine trees but not so good for other things. In addition, the soils can absorb significant amounts of biosolids w/o creating a pollution problem. This region should produce wood. It is what it is good at doing.
Forestry is not labor intensive as it once was. It also does not need much in the way of infrastructure. A particular stand of trees will only need the road about once every fifteen years. This allows for lower maintenance and road construction costs. It also means that a forestry area will support a lower population density. The population will not grow and in some cases will actually decline.
Left – most southern towns have their reb statue. This one is in Boyton in front of the courthouse.
Politicians hate this. For one thing, it means fewer constituents and population decline (or lack of robust growth) somehow seems like a failure or at least a problem. They often get the state to make local investments. Everyplace, no matter how unlikely or isolated, tries to sell itself as a future tech hub. Most of the time, these sorts of development projects fail, but they are successful just long enough to keep people trying. It is sort of like slot machine pay off.
A smarter policy is to let regions do what they do best. People in forest country can engage in forestry. Given the capital intensive nature of today’s forestry, there is scope for some people to have good and high paying jobs – put not many of them. A policy that tries to fix population on the land is silly, expensive and counterproductive. Leave the high tech to Silicon Valley, or even the Research Triangle, which is not very far away in North Carolina.
The compassionate ask, “what about the people?” We should ask that question right back at them. How is it compassionate to hold people near the places they were born, where most of them cannot find good jobs and where all sorts of infrastructure is stretched to help them? If people count, it might be better to help them move to Richmond or Raleigh, which are a little over 100 miles in opposite directions, or maybe someplace else entirely.
Sometimes people would not have to move very far. I already mentioned the Reseach Triangle. Southside Virginia also has some thriving regions. South Hill is growing because of its place astride of big highways. In addition the manmade lakes, like Lake Gaston, on the Roanoke River are magnets for people seeking leisure activity. But there is no sense in freezing the population patterns of any particular point in history. The land that is now my tree farm once supported a couple of large farming families. The last ones left more than seventy years ago. One of the places we made a wildlife feed plot and planted clover was the site of one of the homes. Today my forestry contributes to the support of dozens of people spread around the area, but it doesn’t specifically support anybody, not even me, and certainly does not require anybody to actually live on the land and be there every day.
Nothing is forever. Some places decline; others thrive. The land remains, but people can move. People should move to enjoy better opportunities.
On the news the other day I saw a story about rebuilding New Orleans. There was much gnashing of teeth because a couple years after Hurricane Katrina many areas remains unreconstructed. As I understand it, the areas that are above sea level, such as the French Quarter, are already mostly rebuilt. The low lying regions are the ones still depopulated and not rebuilt. Good. Some of these lowlands are best covered in wetland forests. They should never have been developed in the first place and they certainly should not be redeveloped now that nature has reclaimed them. Some places will gain population and some will lose. There is plenty of land on higher ground. Why be so stupid as to rebuild over and over in places that just don’t make sense? This is especially true if you take into account probably effects of global warming. It will be very expensive to rebuild these areas and it will be a colossal waste of money, as higher sea levels will inevitably cause they to be unlivable and soon.
Above is a stream management zone the often floods. Notice how well the vegetation grows. In the middle, if you look hard, you can see the baldcypress. It is just leafing out.
On well managed forest land, we have stream management zones. These are wetlands where we don’t cut because they protect water quality and soils. They are also good for wildlife. On my land, these areas account for around 20% of the total, so at least that much land is taken out of production. These places flood, but it doesn’t much matter. And when they do experience high water, they help slow the flood further downstream and let water soak in gradually.
Building booms near seashores or along rivers have made us hostages to weather. That is the major reason the costs of storm related losses keep on going up. A flood along a stream management zone causes no trouble. It may even be helpful in getting water to the roots of trees. That same water in a developed region will cause millions of dollars of damage. The news media will shortly be around to blame global warming or the current administration. The actual culprit is the building on the flood prone land. Losses will continue to grow to the extent we do that. The government actually encourages stupid building practices by making low cost flood insurance available. We should just say no.
We should not treat every place equally. Some places we should use intensely; others we should use extensively and some we should just leave alone. This goes for natural and human communities. However, these well might be different places at different times. Government’s role should be to ease and facilitate transitions, not stand in the way of change or enable dumb behavior, but maybe that is too much to ask.
Above is the interchage at 495 and 66 – Richmond or Baltimore. That building in the middle is the Dunn Loring Metro Station, so you get to see several parts of the transit puzzle.
They are building “hot lanes” on I-495 near my house. Hot lanes are special lanes where people pay a premium to drive. The price is based on the traffic conditions. When there is a lot of traffic, the price is higher. This means that people choose to trade time for money and travel time is more predictable.
We need to address traffic congestion and building more or wider roads won’t work. Charging for use based on demand makes so much sense. Currently we allocate space on the road by making people wait in line. It is the same way the Soviet Union distributed bread with the same result.
I am interested in these kinds of innovative traffic solutions, so I went down to the Virginia Dept of Transportation (VDOT) information session at Luther Jackson Middle School not far from my house. There were around 200 people at the meeting. The most boisterous among them (us) expressed outrage at the hot lanes. Nobody wants any new roads in his neighborhood and people complained that hot lanes were just ways to let the rich avoid traffic.
It is a challenge of direct democracy. We experienced the same sort of thing in New Hampshire. Our community wanted to put in a sewer system, but some of the old guys figured out (correctly) that they would not live long enough to justify the initial investment, so old Mr. Parker or old Mrs. Winthrop got up and complained. Nobody wanted to cross them, so nothing happened. Some of my neighbors at the VDOT meeting wanted to stop this project. Fortunately, the VDOT people are made of sterner stuff, or maybe they don’t care as much re public attitudes. Hot Lanes WILL be built in N. Virginia. There are already hot lanes on I-394 in Minneapolis, I-25 in Denver, SR-91 in Orange County, I-15 in San Diego & I-10 in Houston, Texas, but Virginia’s is evidently going to be the biggest private-public partnership for hot lanes in the world. Read more about Virginia hot lanes at this link.
Actually, I am not sure what the real attitude of my fellow Virginians is re hot lanes. The loudest people complained loudly and used the pronoun “we” very liberally. After the meeting, I talked to some people who seemed less opposed. Nobody likes a new road in their yard, but many people are reasonable and understand that this particular project is good.
It reminds me of the old joke. The Lone Ranger & Tonto are fighting a group of Indians and losing. The Lone Ranger says, “It looks like we are surrounded, Tonto.” Tonto replies, “What is this ‘we’ Kemosabi?”
Chrissy attended a similar meeting at the same time I was doing the hot lanes. Hers was re new buildings near the metro. We (CJ and I) favor density near the metro. It is good for the environment and good for our community, but current residents are often against it. They want to shut the door behind themselves.
Our views on development generally make Chrissy and me as popular as skunks at a garden party, at least among the activists who just assume the local residents will toe the anti-development line. But I think we are doing the right thing. Greater density near the metro and hot lanes are solutions that address the problems of traffic and congestion. Developing where we are means saving farms and forests farther away and helps use all that expensive infrastructure. The alternative, just opposing change, solves no problems, although it might make our lives temporarily easier. But it is sort of like the Mr. Parker or Mrs. Winthrop attitude.
I got an email from my colleague in Iraq telling me that they are experiencing “the mother of all sandstorms.” Since we are still working out of tents, it is doubly bad. I go back to Iraq tomorrow. I expect that my can will be covered in dust and that I will have to shovel off my bed before I can take a nap. I don’t look forward to returning to those gritty 110+ degree days, but you can get used to anything, I guess.
That goes for the sweet as well as the bitter. I spent my penultimate morning in Virginia walking/running around my neighborhood. I probably covered around ten miles. What a pleasant place. But we have gotten used to it and don’t really appreciate what we have. If you listened to all the complaining, you would think our country was a horrible place.
I advocate the mental experiment of imagining you have lost everything. Now imagine you got it back. How happy are you? I have not lost it all but when I am in Iraq I really appreciate what we have in America. America has delivered on the promise to protect the natural rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Sometime we are just too fat and happy to recognize that we are fat and happy.
Below is part of one of my running trail
I think America is a great place. Let the dogs of cynicism howl. (Actually the word cynicism comes from the Greek word for dog. Cynics saw themselves are the guard dogs.) Some people would just call me naïve, but I have seen a lot of the world and my opinion is not based on lack of experience. In fact, I think it is the experience with different things that helps me see the wonder and beatuy in the “ordinary” things.
Being an American gives you options and choices. You get to pursue happiness. You don’t always catch it, but there are plenty of chances. I understand that there are also plenty of challenges, but overcoming challenges is the fun part of life. You cannot be happy w/o challenges. Besides on this earth is perfect. We have not achieved and never will achieve heaven on earth.
With all that in mind, I would paraphrase the exchange with Shoeless Joe Jackson on “Field of Dreams”. When he asked, “Is this heaven?” I think the response would be, “No. This is just the United States of America.”
After getting to know & admire the Marines in Iraq, I certainly had to take advantage of our new Marine Museum in the Washington area. It is at Quantico and they just finished it last year. Please click on the link for real details. I will supply only my personal impressions.
Below is the atrium from above.
Before I went to Iraq, I knew some individual Marines, mostly U.S. Embassy guards and military attaches, but I had not seen them in their own environment and I have to admit that most of what I thought came from the media, where You have the heroic “Sands of Iwo Jima” image mixed with less favorable left wing impressions . It has become a little hard for me to accurately recall how I felt before I went to live with Marines in Iraq. When I think back, I do remember that when they told me that it was a Marine COMBAT regiment and that they would issue me protective gear, I was a little apprehensive, both about being embedded with Marines and being issued protective gear. If they give you protective gear, it might be because it is dangerous enough to need it. I guess I was expecting to be in that “Sands of Iwo Jima” environment, or at least the one I saw on television news. Both were kind of scary. Fortunately, it was a lot more peaceful than that and the Marines were different too.
In the real life Marines, I found innovative problem solvers. They take pride in never really having enough resources and improvising to get the job done. But they are not merely men of action. Although some don’t like to admit it, many are true intellectuals. They are widely read and they try to adapt historical experience and theoretic knowledge to their practical problems. Their jobs give them a unique ability to test theory and the fact that lives are on the line makes them take this very seriously. There is an old saying that an intellectual is someone who will accept anything except responsibility. This is where Marines differ from the academic intellectuals who sometimes criticize them.
You can see that I have come to admire Marines, as does almost anybody who has real and sustained contact with them. They still have a practical belief in honor, virtue and honesty. Theirs is a tough life. I don’t think it is for everyone and the Marines certainly agree. I was fortunate to get to know Marines close up and I wanted to take the boys down there to share some of that too. Visiting the Museum is not much of an introduction, but it is something. Maybe the Marines could be an option for them.
The Museum has very clean architectural lines. It has a sweep like that of the Iwo Jima memorial. The exhibits are based on Marine history and actual Marines. Each of the characters in the dioramas in modeled on an actual Marine including facial features and body proportions. It is an interesting detail. BTW – we went with the free docent tour. I suggest everybody do that. Otherwise, you might not find out or pay attention to details like the one above.
I got a slightly different impression of WWII from being in Iraq and visiting the museum helped confirm that. In the last years of the war, the Japanese strategy was to try to kill as many Americans as possible. They knew they couldn’t win against the U.S., but they figured that if they killed enough Americans, they could achieve an negotiated peace. The Marines paid the biggest price, as the Japanese just fought to the death on each little piece of ultimately indefensible land. We did not give up, but we might have. People living in the past made decisions as we do today. They didn’t know they were living in the past and they did not know the outcomes, because those outcomes had yet to be decided. There is no such things as fate.
The docent talked about the famous picture of the flag raising on Mount Suribachi. People see that as the mark of victory. Actually many days of fighting followed the flag raising and three of the men in the picture were subsequently killed. There is good book and movie about what happened to the surviving men involved called “Flags of Our Fathers.”
In the36 days of fighting there were 25,851 US casualties; 6825 were killed. And Iwo Jima is a really small place, about the size of Al Asad and just about as featureless. Or put another way, it is only about 1/4 the size of Milwaukee (only the city, not the whole county). We have lots of heros in our current generation too, but fortunately we have not faced anything like that in Iraq. The “greatest generation” earned the title.
I often wake up at night and don’t know where I am. I think I am back in Iraq and even when I am in Iraq I often think I am someplace else. I think this comes more from the constant moving around than from Iraq specifically, but my dreams of Iraq remind me that I will soon be going back to Anbar.
Modern travel makes for a strange phenomenon. You can be in the yellow desert one day and back on the green grass of home the next. And then back in the desert again the day after that. In America now, the world of Iraq means nothing. It is like a dream, maybe a nightmare, but it is unreal. Right now, sitting in Virginia, it feels like I never left home. I know that in a few days when I get back to Iraq, it will seem like I have always been there. The two worlds do not mix, even at the edges. That is probably a good thing.
Americans are not paying much attention to Iraq any more. I watch the news every day and there is not much coverage. What news they do feature is is formulaic. People seem to have made up their minds re Iraq and every new piece of news is trimmed to fit the preconceived perception. I am afraid that some people are willing to throw away our success for the short term pleasure of getting out. Candidates are arguing who can get out quicker. It is silly and pernicious but popular. The media has frozen our image of Iraq in 2006 and this is not good.
People don’t ask me much about Iraq. They either don’t care or think they already know it all and I understand that they don’t want to hear my anectdotes. I am not sure which ones I would tell anyway. Some of the best stories are those I cannot share, at least not yet. Beyond that, it is hard to communicate unless you share some basic background & assumptions. People seem to think Iraq is a constant struggle to stay alive. They don’t believe me when I tell them that most Iraqis I encounter are friendly and open and I generally do not feel threatened. The danger is only sort of background noise; the real challenge is just the unrelenting nasty surroundings and climate. The heat and the dust is beyond most people’s experience, so there is not much use in trying to explain that either. Riding in helicopters is another hard thing to explain. I can explain what it is like to ride, but I cannot explain what it is like when that ride becomes merely an unpleasant routine and explaining how it feels to be sitting in a small space on that helicopter as it vibrates in the hot sun is beyond words.
I watched “Lost” yesterday. They had a street scene that was supposed to be Iraq. That is the perception people have. Chrissy asked me if it was like that. It’s not. But I could not really explain how it was different.
Below – the lizard blends with his surroundings
I am not looking forward to going back. My perceptions have changed. In September I was afraid of the danger. I am still aware that risk remains, but now my main focus is on the plain discomfort. I know what that will be like. On the other hand, I am looking forward to getting back to my colleagues and the important work we are doing. Back in September I had no idea we would be doing so much and such a variety of things. I regret that I will not see most of the projects achieve their full results. I will not see most of the seeds we planted grow. On the other hand, my curiosity is not so powerful as to make me want to stay beyond September. My successor can pick up where I left off. If I do my job right, it will be easy to transition. Nobody is indispensible. I am sure the new guy will bring new skills and talents to the job. My job will be done. My year in Iraq will be over. I will never to back and my dreams of Iraq will fade into the yellow haze. I just hope it will have been worth it. Actually, the best thing would be if it is so successful that people say it would have happened anyway.
