Iraq
Iraq Part 1
Rarely do I know so little beforehand about what to expect from a trip. I've left the States enough times now that I don't even think about it the night before. I know what to expect… a different country, different cultures, different languages… but at the end of the day I still get to deal predominantly with Americans and outside of the scenery, my regular life doesn't change all that much.
Not this time.
To begin with, we have flown into the middle of history, happening right now. Whatever your views on our efforts in Iraq, and believe me, mine are mixed… whatever your views are, it is amazing to see the scope of this in action. The changing of leadership in Iraq is nothing that hasn't happened before. The center of the Middle East is obviously coveted territory, and it always makes me think of Risk when I think about how strategic this country is. From the Ottoman Empire that was toppled by the British, to the assassination of the Ministry of Defense here in 1963 by Saddam's father, our role here is just another part of story.
Some bases that I've played in the past have done a great job preparing me for this trip. When we sign on for these runs, we are issued orders, given a GS-15 ranking, and fall into the military system of doing things. On other bases before, we are far removed from any kind of actual military activity. Sure, I've gotten the civilian version of nuclear subs and F-15's, but I've done it after flying commercial and staying in a hotel. It's different when they hand you a flak jacket and march you up the back ramp of a C-17.
That may have been the most surreal part of the trip thus far, boarding that plane to leave Kuwait. Looking around before we took off, you could see a sea of faces. For me, it was just a short ride to Baghdad to spend the next eight days. For them, I realized that this was THE flight. The last leg of a journey that was taking them closer and closer to a war zone that they would spend the next year of their life in. Holy shit.
The first thing you notice about Iraq is that it's dusty. Not sandy like you expect, though it is, but dusty. An off-white layer of it rests on everything. Clothes, shoes, cars… it hovers in the air making everything hazy and dirty. I actually wish I still smoked just so I would have something to filter the air with. We are living like the military here, which means we are four or six to a room, with a shower trailer 100 yards away. Nobody has privacy here. No one has anything they had when they left the States. It's not a vacation spot.
Juxtaposing the tents and trailers in this huge area known as Victory Camp, are the old palaces. Saddam's headquarters here in Iraq converted to offices and administration. It would be funny if you didn't think about how many people died on these grounds under his rule. I don't know where to draw the line between truth and urban myth around here. I know about the soccer team he had killed for losing, but then there are the stories of the 100 pound, genetically engineered fish that ate the bodies he threw in the canal. I'm sitting by that very waterway as I type this. It does make me wonder.
We were here for five hours yesterday before they rushed us off to meet our transportation to the Ministry of Defense complex for a show. Climbing in a Blackhawk helicopter for a night flight is unbelievably unnerving at first. Walking through the wind and sand in the dark to the chopper; the green glow of the light inside as you try to figure out the four point harness; watching the airstrip, and then Baghdad drop below you as you go straight up; the ease with which the gunners drop their night vision into place and swivel behind their weapons; seeing the silhouette of the other helicopters against the night sky… You haven't done anything that cool in your life. Not ever. I don't care what you think.
You just have to block out the fact that all of this being handled by twenty year old kids.
At Old MOD (Ministry of Defense), we were surrounded by US military as well as Iraqi officers. It's actually their complex where our troops train their police to take over after we've left. It's in the Sadr City region of Baghdad, and very close to what I can only call "activity". Gunshots in the distance became commonplace very quickly, as strange as that sounds. What will never become commonplace is the sound of an IED going off ten minutes into the show. Not a big one, and not close, but those two facts hardly make it any less real. When the boom happened, not one person in the audience even blinked.
If you can tell jokes with explosions happening while your audience is holding rifles, you can tell jokes anywhere.
We have four more chopper flights and two more shows today. I'm excited, and I don't even know where they're sending us. The highlight so far for me has been an unexpected one. We have made it farther on this run than Scott Stapp. He used to sing for Creed if you're unfamiliar, and is responsible for more bad music being on this planet than anyone else currently alive. He got to Kuwait, with his entourage of fifteen people, and then got himself bumped from making it into Iraq. I don't want to take anything away from the guy for doing a USO tour. I respect it, because he didn't have to come at all. Still, bitching about not having had a shower for two days seems a little petty over here. I'm pretty sure that's why they pulled the plug on the guy. He's a baby.
It's a shame, too. He might have ended the war. Had the insurgents in Iraq heard him sing they might have given up on their own in exchange for making him stop. "We give up! Please make the bad sounds stop!!! Kalalalalalalalalala!!!!!"
I'll have more in the next few days I'm sure. I'm still adjusting to the realities that our guys deal with over here. Do yourself a favor and throw away your television. I take that back. Fringe and Burn Notice are worth watching, just turn off the cable news shows. They are clueless when it comes to this.
-Slade
Iraq Part 2
I've tried. Several times actually. I've tried to figure out a way to put the last week or so into words, and every time I do I end up deleting it. I'm not deleting this attempt I've decided. When I started this trip, my only concept of the war in Iraq and our soldiers fighting over there was the fuzzy image I had in my head created by television reports and conversations with a handful of friends that have served. I, like most people, was pretty ignorant of the actual realities of our involvement in the Middle East.
It's such a pushbutton issue. "Iraq". In the States, when you say that word, it immediately draws one of a handful of responses. "We never should have invaded Iraq", or "bring our troops home", or "I'm not for the war, but I support the troops." Regular people on the street debating whether or not "the surge" worked, normally using regurgitated sound bites from Sean Hannity or Keith Olberman to defend their side. Even for me, and this was my eighth trip overseas, it was a total departure from what I expected.
The closer you get to where the actual fighting is happening, the worse the conditions get for the guys doing the fighting. My first crack at this was at Rammstein Air Base in Germany back in 2001. 30,000 people lived on that particular base. Myself and the other comic were put up in a very contemporary hotel in Landstuhl, and were given access to all the facilities the base had to offer. I would eat Burger King on base, and then go catch a movie or go bowling to kill time. One time in Okinawa I wandered through Kadena Air Base, eventually crossing a golf course on my way to the marina. Some deployments are better than others.
This trip though, the amenities were removed. We travel as GS-15's, and as high ranking civilians we are pretty much granted VIP treatment the entire time. In Kuwait that meant an 8x10 room with a bed, a nightstand, and a community shower facility. Definitely not the way I am used to traveling, and this was the enviable way to live as I would soon find out. Victory Base in Baghdad would make me miss that solitary little room. There, we shared a 10x15 trailer with three other guys. Bathrooms and showers were in another trailer a good walk away. Again, this was where the VIP's stayed. As we actually got out into the field to the little outposts where our front lines were stationed, conditions dropped significantly. I've been to third world countries where the people live more comfortably.
No plumbing, no actual bathrooms, just PVC tubes stuck in the ground behind camouflaged netting. "Piss tubes", they call them. I'm not 100% what the women's "facilities" looked like... Showers that consisted of plywood boxes that held four people at a time... Tents or metal compartments that held way more people than anyone could consider comfortable… No big dining facilities like on the big bases. No Golden Corral style buffet like Victory Base. For lunch on one of these posts it was chili mac and a honey bun. We hit two of these spots a day, all week. And here's the thing… every single soldier I met had their head up.
Every one of them.
Not one complaint. Not one bitchy, whiny person. Nothing. Each little spot we went to had gone out of their way to set up a place for us to perform. Sometimes there was a microphone, sometimes not. Our stage was a few sheets of plywood laid on the gravel in one place, with the "stage" lighting coming from the headlights of an MRAP vehicle. In another they had spent all day cleaning out one of the bays and hanging florescent bulbs. In others, there wasn't a stage or microphone at all, just everyone gathered around whatever happened to be the most open space available. I have never been in front of more respectful crowds either. No offense to any of you that come out to my shows here in the States, but I would take those guys over a crowd at the Improv any day of the week.
Thankfully we were not always rushed straight in and out. Our schedules allowed us to hang out with the soldiers before and after the shows, talking about everything imaginable. We got to laugh and tell stories with them, and they got to show off all the military's toys to us. Anything to break the rhythm. The upside to that is that I got to do things this week that I probably should not have gotten to do. I started the week jazzed about Blackhawk rides, and finished it by actually getting hands on with a few things. Like guns. From M-4's to 240's, I shot enough rounds to make me never need to play Call of Duty 4 again. And then they let me drive a Striker vehicle. Go look it up. Eight wheels, armor plates, .50 caliber machine guns… and I got to drive it.
And then they let me drive a tank. An Abrams tank. I'm not kidding. Me, in the hole of a fully operational M-1 Abrams tank. I can now drive one where it needs to go, spin the turret, raise the gun, and fire it. I got the crash course obviously, but I DROVE A TANK. Who gets to do this? Seriously.
In the midst of all of this, we were also shown some amazing places that used to belong to Saddam. The Victory Base complex where we were staying was essentially Saddam's Camp David. It was his political oasis. He, along with the high ranking B'aath Party officials, would convene in this compound quite often. Our military was obviously aware of this fact, and that is why most of the building have missile holes in their roofs, and are mostly rubble. It is insane to see how we have transformed Iraq. Not just politically, but physically. Like ants… building over and around what was already there. Old homes, warehouses, industrial complexes, all outfitted now as offensive or defensive outposts. It is surreal, and a little "Mad Max".
I could go on for pages about the historical information behind a lot of what I saw, but that can all be Googled. More important to me is what I walked away with regarding our troops. What was a blurry concept for me two weeks ago has been given a face. Lots of faces actually. To see how these guys have taken so many volatile little areas and brought them under control is incredible. Prepping the country piece by piece to be handed back to the Iraqis… To most of the guys stationed over there, "Iraq" is just a job. They climb into the seats of their vehicles or pick up their guns the same way you drive to the office everyday. They understand what they're supposed to do, and they do it. It's hot, dusty, and probably sucks on levels I am still not aware of, but they do it.
Our military, particularly the front line in Iraq, is made up of rock stars. I'm glad I got to be a part and help break the monotony for a little while. I'll definitely be back.
Come home safe guys. Hooah!
-S