Boots on the ground

Day 13 05DEC2009:
Its strange, I’m now in Iraq but this could just as easily be Kuwait or Ft Irwin, CA. We had a fairly uneventful trip up here to FOB (Forward Operating Base) Warrior just outside Kirkuk, Iraq. It was Army efficiency as usual. Drop our bags at 2030 and don’t leave the immediate area, we don’t want to lose track of anyone. Wait outside till 2100 and have roll call. Wait outside till 2330 and board the buses. Drive 1 hour to the air strip. Wait in a tent for an hour. Take roll again in tent. Get in formation outside the tent and take roll again. We march onto our waiting C-17 at 0230. This is a large military cargo plane. All of our gear is on pallets in the rear and then 160 of us are filled into the seats in the middle of the hull. To say it’s a tight fit is a drastic understatement. We are wearing our IOTV (flak vest) and carrying our weapons and assault packs (backpacks). It’s tight but it does allow one to be propped up and able to sleep with your head fixed in place. After sitting in our seats for 45 minutes or so and watching the crew mull around we are told that the flight is cancelled due to so malfunction they cannot seem to repair. Not good news. We do not want to go through this process again. They tell us the busses that brought us here have been dispatched back to get us. “Just sit tight, and we’ll get you back to Camp Buehring”…just sit tight, good one. Another half hour goes by and we are told that the issue is resolved and we will take off soon. Great!!!....but its fixed right. We finally get wheels up at 0427. It’s a short flight and we touch down at Warrior Air Base at 0533. We march off the plane and its still dark but you can see trees lining the perimeter of the FOB and in the distance there are 3 orange glows of burning oil, a constant in this area.
As the sun comes up the FOB in all of its beauty is revealed. Bunkers are everywhere. All buildings are surrounded by some type of defensive structure whether its concrete “T walls” or “Hesco barriers” giant circular chain linked fences with a burlap sack filled with dirt. There are hard ball roads. There is a bus system. I brush my teeth in a bathroom being cleaned by an Iraqi who is washing his face. I say hi. I am assigned a CHU (Compartmental Housing Unit) to live in. Two of us in a 8’ by 20’-ish rectangle. Could be worse. We clean it out and divide it into two sides using wall lockers. We get some chow at a ginormous DFAC. Again, it appears it would be easy to get really fat here. We check out the Aid Station, drop of some laundry and take a long nap.
My first thought tonight after one day of being in country is that I don’t feel like I’m in a war zone and I don’t feel like I’m involved in a war. This is not a complaint but a feeling that maybe we all don’t need to be here. Officers are saluted, units march in formation and physical fitness tests are being conducted. These are commonalities back home in the states while in garrison but not what you would expect at a true FOB during war. This is more FT Warrior than FOB Warrior. I think of my buddies doing the same job in Afghanistan right now. I’m sure they are treating injuries sustained in while roaming mountains and dodging enemy fire. I will be treating sprained ankles from pick-up basketball. I could do this back home.