Its been one long continuous patrol this week.  Its all blended into one never ending day.  Out all day, up all night.  Patrol this, secure that, drive way the hell out to this place.  Its gets tiresome.  We got back around noon today after spending the night at that peculiar remote outpost in my dream.  I got a few hours sleep between patrols in a non air conditioned connex box of an aid station on a stretcher.  They have built it up pretty well though, so no deja vu episodes. When we returned to the FOB, there were no showers of course.  They don’t turn them on till late because of the water shortage.  So no nap for me as I can’t sleep in my bed while stewing in my own filth.  Cleaned up a best I could, but I had to wait till the showers were opened.

The week kicked off when we had been on patrol since 5am and some insurgents destroyed an IP station a few towns away.  We had less than an hour after we RTB’d to reset the vehicles, try to grab some chow, and stage to leave for the IP station (I ended up buying some sandwiches for myself and one of my guys).  While we were on scene a huge sandstorm rolled in.  We had to cut cross country on the way back, which was no easy task with about 8 feet of visibility. Rolled back in after midnight.  Had to report to work the next morning early as well.

It just didn’t stop after that, one patrol after the next.  Bake all day, patrol all night.  Eat an MRE when you could, give what you could to the IA to eat since they have no foresight, and continue mission.  At least we managed to keep our water cold.

On one patrol, my crew spotted a suspicious vehicle darting around some alleyways.  We had IA on perimeter with us, and when the car popped up again, we managed to corner it and do a search.  We knew it wasn’t a VBIED or an attack, but we suspected it was someone trying to gather information.  Turns out it was a local IA higher up who lived around the corner.  This is no reason for him not to be a suspect, but it made the job that much harder.  He had a weapons permit, and admitted to the AK-47 and pistol, but not to the grenade we found.  He stated he was authorized to have it and had it for his protection because he was under threat.  I can see the rifle and pistol for protection, but not the grenade.  He would more likely kill himself, his family, or innocent bystanders with it than he would successfully engage the enemy.  In my mind, and the minds of several others, the only reason to have a grenade in your personal vehicle is to covertly throw it out the window at something.  Maybe we are just too paranoid.  We called it in, and the IA sent out some people to verify his story.  After a heated discussion, he was allowed to keep his grenade (not my first choice), but he was warned not to have it in his POV or next time he was caught he would be detained.  He went home after that and we did not see his car sneaking about again.

In contrast to this incident, we were in a little town up the road from one of our IED hotspots.  The leadership was engaging some local leaders.  All in all it was a relatively low risk meeting.  We were actually fed real, hot, and good food!  Chicken on rice with that ubiquitous Iraqi red sauce poured on top (with okra in it).  We even got some little bowls of “pickles” which are my favorite.  Those of us on dismount mingled about with locals, IPs, and IA from the area (keeping one eye out at all times) and had some interesting conversations.  The highlight of the day for me though was this little Iraqi boy with Down’s Syndrome.  He was wandering around, so my Platoon Sergeant and I asked if he would like a football (a soccer ball in Iraq).  His little face lit up, so I called out to my truck and had them grab one.  An IP walked him to the truck, and as soon as he got his hands on the ball, he began screaming and running around with it over his head.  I think it was the best toy he had ever received.  He was showing everyone in town and kept saying over and over in Arabic “I have Football.”  He would see us, stomp his feet and salute in the Iraqi way, a huge smile on his face the whole time.

And thats the recount.  Pretty much everything else was staring into the bleakness of the desert and playing “avoid the IED” while logging more miles in a humvee than should be allowed.  I’ll have to tell you about that particular torture in another article sometime.