It is 2103 on 28 September 2004 as I write this. My day is almost over. I just need to enter into my journal with you all.
Today was my first mission. How do I describe all that I experienced in 3 hours? I will do my best.
We rolled out of the wire with the Team that we are replacing for our first tour of the neighborhoods where we work. This is called our sector. We locked and loaded rounds into our weapons and discussed actions on contacts. We had our machine gunners in the turrets of the Uparmored Humvees as we drove quickly down one of the main thoroughfares. Traffic, and there is a lot of it, instinctively moves out of our way after a year and a half of US presence. People use their horns to signal the changing of lanes. We turned off of the highway.
Our sector, well all of Iraq really, is littered with trash. Everything is brown or tan. Even the palm trees lack enough green to be pretty. In the southern area of the sector there is nothing to note.
We drove to one of our projects, a swimming pool renovation. The building was occupied by a few men, but the contractors were not there. The work had just started so the building was still a wreck but the pool was full of clear water. In a few months the whole area should be cleaned, landscaped the best they can, and opened for the people.
We drove through one of the poor neighborhoods. I was told what to expect but not prepared. I am an ol’ factory type of person. I have a great sense of smell. Needless to say the smell of raw sewage running in the streets on a hot Iraqi morning was overpowering. It’s not just a trickle, or even in a ditch on the side of the road, although many times it is just that. No, there are places where the brown/green water is twelve inches deep in the middle of the street. In the Spring the whole area floods. In the “irrigation” canal the water runs deeper so the kids swim in it. I saw it myself today. You are aghast, as was I, but that is the only life these people have known.
We stopped to walk through the local market. Everything is out in the open. They slaughter lambs right there and let the blood drain into the street. There was live poultry there too, but I don’t know if they just sell the bird to you or if they just kill it there. Nothing is refrigerated so the meat, fish, food is out in the open. Men or boys stand near by shooing the flies away by the dozens. The produce looked great; tomatoes, onions, peppers, bananas, potatoes. There were tables full of ground spices. Pots of a fresh yogurt type of drink. There were vendors selling cigarettes, Pepsi, Coke Cola, toys, trinkets, rugs, wedding dresses, fans – it was a feast for the eyes. It had all the sounds you would imagine in a marketplace such as this; animals, traffic, and the noise of people bartering, selling all of the above. The nose, however, now had to deal with all of the above, too.
I watched the people from behind dark sunglasses. The old men would acknowledge us. The young men in their twenties, who were raised to despise us after the Gulf War, just stared – we stared back. The women ignored us. The children followed everywhere. The children are curious and always looking out for a treat from the soldiers. Some are trying to sell you something. Almost all make an attempt at English. I actually heard one say, “Saddam bad, Bush good”. When I made the so-so gesture with my hand at the last part the teenager laughed and ran off to tell someone. The little ones all smile and give the thumbs-up sign, and no, it is not obscene gesture here. Some of them are beautiful but have such limited future.
In my brief seven years as a Trooper I never saw the human condition like I did today. That was the bad part.
Now for the good part. The soldiers are dedicated to make life better for the people. We drove to see some of the other projects we are working on. We stopped in at a youth center that is near completion, with a new soccer field, basket ball court, and rooms with the smell of fresh paint in them. We visited a new health clinic that is going up in one of the poorer areas. We picked up the medals for the weekend's local soccer tournament. We toured a new neighborhood that will be a model for others with paved streets, sidewalks, curbstones, and street lamps. There are sewer lines being dug into to areas that never had them before. There are sewage vacuum trucks that respond to our requests to clean up problem areas. There are trash trucks, transfer stations, and a landfill. We do not do this work ourselves. Instead, we identify, propose and put projects out to bid.
Let’s be realistic. Very slowly these people are entering the 19th Century. With any luck we can help them along towards the 20th Century. There is corruption in this society where everyone gets a cut of the action. They have been doing business this way under the old regime, it is what they know, it their way of life. There is a long way to go.
In the end my first mission had no profound effect on me, or my sense of purpose. It only slightly dawned on me that I was in Iraq, walking down the street, in full body armor, helmet, rifle and pistol. I was more overwhelmed by what my senses were registering.
We were back by 1230. I washed my hands several times before lunch.
