Graf 12

                It was a quiet ride and we were packed in like sardines.  Some listened to their IPods, some slept and others just sat there in silence.  All of us had the same thoughts on our mind though.  What are we to expect?  What have we gotten ourselves into?  Shortly after two o’clock in the morning, the overhead lights went out and the green light on the wall turned to red; signifying our presence in hostile air space.  After what seemed like hours we the crew chief announced that we were starting our decent into Al Taqaddum Airbase, Iraq; a former airbase of the Baath Party that was taken over in the initial invasion and a stopping point for all service members entering and leaving the country.  The massive plane banked hard right, hard left and was then on the ground; a technique used by pilots to counter RPG and rocket fire from our enemies.  I would never have imagined that a plane that size, could maneuver that way!

                As we stepped off the plane, it was pitch black and the heat took my breath away.  Small generator powered lights came on and a convoy of busses pulled up to give us a ride off the airfield; the sky lit up from illumination type artillery fire in the distance.  We spent the night at the base that is simply referred to as “TQ” and was able to sleep in the next morning.  All that day, we spent going over our gear, cleaning our weapons and preparing for the convoy to Camp Baharia later that day; most certainly after dark.  The air was dry and dusty and the sun seemed to melt the sand.  “Dirt” I thought, all I could see for miles was dirt!

                The convoy rolled up at about 2200 hours (10 pm for those non-military type) to pick us up and take us to our new home for the next seven months.  After the convoy commander briefed us on our route, we loaded up and headed for Fallujah.  As we crossed the Euphrates River, I could see small buildings on the outskirts of town with lights glowing in small windows.  The air had a smell of sewage and filth from the sewer systems all but being destroyed.  I could see a small pack of wild dogs scrounging for food in an alley; an IED explodes somewhere to our south.  Sure enough, we have reached Fallujah, Iraq; we have reached Hell on earth.  It was 2345 hours (11pm) when we pulled through the gates of Camp Baharia.

                We were assigned our temporary homes for the night and told to get some sleep.  I couldn’t sleep that night; thoughts of home and my wife ran through my head.  A few times that evening, we even had “incoming alarms” to alert us of incoming mortar fire from Al Qaida insurgents.  Each alarm was false but, we were not always that lucky in the months to come.  I finally could see a small ray of sun coming in from under my hut door; it was morning and I had just been through my first full night in Iraq.