In the year of 2003… During my first 12 month deployment, everything was so very different than today’s typical military deployments. There was certainly no burger kings, PXs, or internet cafes around. I have detailed my experiences of the initial three months in my last post, but one thing I didn’t touch on was the basic lifestyle we as Soldiers had to endure during this time. For the first 3 – 4 months there were absolutely no showers or baths to speak of, so naturally our uniforms crusted up from the excessive sweat with huge salt stains spread out all across our clothes. After a while the mere smell of your own body odor would almost cause you to get ill. As June and July approached the temperatures would frequently rise to 120F and beyond. At one point our water supply ran extremely low and the logistical convoys just could not reach our location anymore. During that time we were forced to establish water rations. It had reached the point where all Soldiers would receive just two 1.5L water bottles each day. We had to clearly write out our names on side of the bottles with black permanent marker to ensure nobody would drink from it. Nevertheless, one night I distinctly remember a physical confrontation between two Soldiers. One Soldier had crept into the other guy’s sleeping area and quietly took his water bottle from under his cot and then began to gulp down almost half of his bottle. Several seconds later the sleeping Soldier awoken and immediately started to yell and pushed the surprised intruder. To which the sneaking Soldier replied “Damn these rules!! I’m a bigger man and I need more water than you!” Eventually other Soldiers came in and broke the dispute up. You see, in the great country of America we take it for granted that when we ourselves are parched or our stomach growls we can simply drive to the local convenience or grocery store to fulfill that need. When we have the urge to use the bathroom, there is a porcelain throne for us to sit upon. Why if it’s a little warm just turn on the A/C. Happen to be missing a friend or relative? Then just pick up the phone and dial. This was most certainly not an option for an American Soldier in Iraq 2003.
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| A common site in throughout the country. |
My unit was just now getting settled in our second base camp near a small town 40 – 60 miles north of Baghdad. At this point we had moved into pretty decent buildings and even had an interpreter working directly for my company. I happened to be on gate guard (as usual) with another young Soldier one hot afternoon and a lady in what appeared to be in her late 40s slowly approached our entrance. She was dressed in a long dusty black robe and as she walked closer we noticed a crimson color stained on both of her hands…….. It appeared to be somebody’s blood. It was pretty odd to see anyone come towards our gate, let alone a strange old woman. We called up the report immediately on our radios. Headquarters told us to send her away. When she got about 50 meters from us she began speaking in Arabic, at first in a soft tone and then increasing louder until she was shouting at the top of her lungs. Fortunately we had an interpreter at the gate and he then informed us what she had said….. “Please help! My neighbor has killed both my husband and two sons.. he has gone mad and is now trying to kill me and the rest of my family.. I need you to come back with me and stop him… for god’s sake!” Watching her closely, we notice her body start to tremble and her eyes became ever so wide filled with pure panic and terror. We updated our headquarters with the newly received information. Over the radio we received our final orders coldly “Send her away… that is not our mission here.” At that point we had to look at this woman in the eyes and tell her… “Sorry, but we can’t do anything for you ma’am.” The look of disbelief and tears that then followed has been etched into my memory forever. She must have come here thinking we were the good guys and that we had to help people in need. On this particular day she happened to be greatly mistaken. Now, I must explain to the readers at this point in time there was no Iraqi Police or military to enforce laws, it was pretty much like the Wild Wild West so to speak. I didn’t feel good about myself lying down to sleep that night… how could I?
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| One of the border guards let me hold his AK-47. |
A new month… a new mission. That seemed to be the theme of the year, and now we were off heading towards the Iranian border. Apparently there have been issues of Iranians sneaking into Iraq in order to venture on a holy pilgrimage. Living so close to Iran’s border was a little daunting; the Iran Army would constantly have a show of force consisting of old tanks lined up on their border. Almost as if to say.. “Don’t you Americans dare think of entering our country” The days once again started blending into one another and I truthfully couldn’t tell the difference between a Monday from a Friday. I did however become aware of a new insect affectionately labeled the “sand fly”. A little pesky bug that was so small that it would fly right through our military mosquito netting. I believe they were about ¼ of the size of a regular mosquito. When a person was bitten there was a good chance they would end up developing Leishmaniasis (a skin disease). This is unfortunately what happened to my upper right arm. I would be given an option at this point whether I wanted to return back to United States for treatment or would I rather stay with my unit and finish my deployment. At the time I didn’t want to be seen as a coward or a man that tried to get out of his responsibility so I decided to stay even as lesions begun to form painful bumps on my skin. A decision I would reflect back to multiple times throughout the next six months.
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| An Iranian boy spots something tasty in the wire. |
Now, our typical day here on the border would involve scouring the vast lands searching for Iranians that did not have the proper documentation.. then loading them all up one by one onto large civilian trucks until full and driving them back to their own country. I could have sworn I seen the same people day after day and week after week. They were a determined religious bunch. Our sense of security was still at a very high level and I remember one afternoon one of the young men we detained had jumped off the truck and was sprinting straight towards a group of American Soldiers. Sensing something awry I chased him down and ended up tackling him straight to the ground. As it turned out he was simply dehydrated and was attempting to get some water from our jugs before heading back to Iran. This border protection mission would last at least another month.. and then it too ultimately changed.
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| The pilgrims are headed back to Iran. |
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| As you can tell the pilgrims consisted mainly of older men and women. |
