Tag Archives: Baghdad

Letters From Michael Dudikoff (Part 1)

Anyone else get fanmail from Michael Dudikoff during their deployment? I didn’t think so. Well, actually it wasn’t really him writing to me. It was a friend from the Air Force sending hilarious letters using the (dare I say it?) legendary actor’s name on the return address. Why? Because it made them funnier.

19 July 2003

Dear G,

I just got back from a month and a half in Europe, Israel, and various parts of the U.S. I was happy to come back home and see 2 letters… I thought about you every time I saw a flight going to Baghdad or Kuwait. I flew Space-A on military ‘hopovers’ to Europe and back. I hope this letter finds you in good spirits, and that you haven’t given up on me — ha! Well, graduation went well and I got commissioned and all that good stuff. I really enjoyed hanging out with you. I don’t know why, but I felt really comfortable talking to you. I only wish I could have met up with you before you left. Oh well, I’m sure we’ll meet again.

(I wonder if Michael Dudikoff is flirting a tiny bit?)

I went to islands in Greece (Crete and Ios), Israel, Cambridge in the UK, and Prague. I finally went home after three weeks, to Colorado Springs for a wedding. It was quite lavish…They do well enough to afford it, and my buddy getting married had a great time with his newly. After about 30 days had gone by (I had 60 days of leave!) a friend convinced me to spend the 4th of July in D.C. with him. We watched the fireworks between the Washington Monument and the Capital while lying out on the grass. After that we took off for Spain to run with the bulls. We landed at Rota, Spain…then a 14 hour ride to Pamplona where the Running of the Bulls was happening. But we were so tired by then…we decided to chalk it up and just hang out in the South of Spain. We went to Seville and [back to] Rota too. Since I was on the road for more than a month I decided to head back…you ever feel like just chilling? Yeah, I thought so.

Now I’m here in Santa Maria, California and by the time you get this I will be on my way to Osan Air Base, Repulic of Korea. Sad, eh? I don’t think I can get much sympathy from a girl in Baghdad…I really do worry about you being there. I heard morale is really low. Is it? Anyway, getting back to better things…How is your son doing? Who is he hanging out with while Mommy’s gone? What’s the most interesting thing you’ve seen? Do you have e-mail yet? I hope you are well and that you remember who I am. Listen, I will write you often and maybe when you’re having a bad day my letter will arrive and cheer you up…Be careful and Godspeed home. May the sun always shine on your back and the sand stay out of your underwear!

Undated

Dear G,

It’s great to hear from you! Well I can’t help but think about you and your health as the media provides daily news about the ongoing issues in Iraq. However, I’m also a strong believer that uncomfortable, challenging situations help us grow and develop as human beings. In that sense, I envy you. I’m proud to know someone like you, who is over there doing your thing, and always strapping on the U.S. flag every time you go outside.

(Kinda putting me on a pedestal there, Buddy. I may have to strap on a parachute to get back down.)

Korea is very interesting. Everyone here keeps telling me that by this time next year when I supposedly leave, I will have learned more than I could’ve in a 2 or 3 year tour in CONUS. I’ve been here for a month now and I don’t miss the States at all! However, I will be going back in October for Agent Training before I return to Osan…The weather here varies between hot and humid and rainy. Drivers are complete maniacs on the road. Seriously! I wonder if they realize that red means stop…Free time after work is an unusual feeling…I have more free time now to pursue my hobbies, goals, and education.

Where did you say you lived? I remember South Dakota, but is that where you grew up or where you live now? I hope your little boy is doing well. He’s probably quite the little handyman with your father showing him the ropes. How long do you have until you go home? You should move to Europe when you return. You know, live the Euro Trash lifestyle. That’s hopefully where I’ll go sooner than later. Germany or Italy or England (to study at Cambridge!). I’ll do my best to write frequently and stay in touch. After all, it’s the least I can do…Take care and say hi to your girlfriends for me!

P.S. I have handwriting like a 4th Grader, so sue me!

Giving the flight simulator a spin at the U.S. Air Force Academy.

Wednesday, 3 September 2003 @ 1:00 P.M.

Dear G,

Everyday without your presence is like a day without the welcoming of the beautiful serene sunrise…I’ve always wanted to write that in a letter to someone deployed on the line! I don’t know what line you’re on but you get the drift. Did you like that opening sentence? I figured I’d mix it up a little with some romance. In all seriousness though, I really do wish that we’ll see each other someday. I felt you were genuine, and that’s a quality that is rare.

(Hmmm…if my husband reads this post he is going to kick Michael Dudikoff’s ass for putting the moves on me via air mail ten years ago! Well maybe not…)

I’m wrapping up a four day weekend (Labor Day)…I go back to the States in October. I really don’t miss [the U.S.] that much but I look forward to stepping on U.S. soil…I just got off the phone with my parents (that’s why the first line of this paragraph is darker; I was outlining the words while talking to them). Anyway, it’s their 28th anniversary and they were both on the phone. So Mom says “Yeah, it’s been 28 years and 3 days and it’s HELL!” I started laughing uncontrollably and they were laughing too. It’s the kind of humor that can only come from being married that long. I hope I can have a marriage that good, honest, and loving when I tie the knot. I think my first step should be to find a girl. What do you think?

(I think you are adorable.)

I’m looking at my letter thus far and realizing it looks like a freight train hit it. Scratches everywhere; I think your son can write better than me! Anyway, I know you’re probably very busy. Just try to take some deep breaths, look up at the sky or moon, and appreciate your family, friends, and good health (if you’re not catching a cold). It’s not everyday you’re in Iraq, right! Feel better? Be safe and take care.

Yours Truly

P.S. Write down the date and time you send your letter so I know how long it takes from Baghdad to Osan AB, Korea.

P.P.S. I’m a geek.

Friday, 5 September 2003 @ 1200 hours

Dear G,

How’s Iraq nowadays? Is it cooling off? It [has been] raining off and on now for the last week of August and into September. I enjoy the sun if I’m wearing a shirt and shorts, but I prefer the cloudy skies otherwise. If I’m in a suit, I don’t like the sun beating down…guess I’m just more of a temperate climate type of guy…I’ll have to send you a picture sometime. I keep forgetting to take my camera with me when I go out. I tried contacting Van before I left but he never returned my call. Oh well, it was good to see that kid before I left. He’s only become more ‘Texan’ since I last saw him.

(Good one. He’s only become more ‘South Dakotan’ since I married him!)

I think about the Academy days and sometimes I get…I guess I’d say nostalgic. I don’t miss the actual BS we put up with but I think “Man, those days are gone. That step is over in my life. I can never get that back.” The trivial conversations with my classmates after Taps, the smell of morning dew, the serenity of walking to the cafeteria as another suns sets over Colorado. This is what comes to mind.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m excited about pursuing my next goals and challenges. It’s great. Perhaps it’s the scariness of age and life and how quickly we can move through it and not notice. That’s what one of my goals after graduation was: no more putting life on hold until next week, next month, next year. Now I try to enjoy every day. Key word is “TRY”. Some days I wish I could just skip. I speak to people who are between 26 and 30 years old and they mention their age as “old”. I don’t want to be like that. I hope I don’t embrace that mentality! If I am still clubbing at 30, trying to get with 21 year olds I’ll be a little concerned…

(I hope you are not doing this now. Cradle robber.)

Moving on to you. What are your thoughts on this matter? Do you agree, or think my thoughts are askew? It’s always great to hear from someone wiser and more mature than me. Do you have any days off there? What is your tent like? Do you have enough room to have privacy? Well I hope to continue writing you without interruption. I know mail is always cool to get from a friend, especially one as disturbingly handsome as me (wink). I make myself laugh! Yeah, I’m a dork. Have you guys had any USO celebrity visitors there? I’m betting Michael Dudikoff (Star of American Ninja 1, 2 & 4) will be there soon, huh? That would be sooooo awesome! All right, I hope this letter reaches you in good health. Thinking of you.

P.S. I wasn’t joking about Michael Dudikoff!

P.P.S. No, seriously. I will have Michael’s children one day!

P.P.P.S. Stop laughing…Be safe please.

(Oh…so that is where the Michael Dudikoff joke came from…Now it makes sense.)

Hot Chow and Cold Showers

Leave a reply

A view of lakes and palms in the BIAP area.

After a grueling two day convoy through a completely unfamiliar world where anything could happen (and we felt suddenly, embarrassingly unprepared) we crossed through ‘the wire’ into Baghdad’s large airport complex claimed by Coalition Forces during OIF. Baghdad International Airport, or BIAP, was surrounded by a fortified wall encompassing the airport (formerly Saddam International Airport) and the militarized areas once occupied by Saddam’s Republican Guard. During the drive we spotted abandoned, bombed out palaces and areas where skirmishes had been fought, and we hoped for the opportunity to eventually explore. For the time being, there was the enormous task of getting settled. We were all exhausted from being on guard and not getting much sleep as we bumped and bucked along the roads into Iraq, but seeing our new camp made us momentarily energized. There was a summer camp feel in the air as we introduced ourselves to our new surroundings and let the notion sink in that this would be home until further notice.

My massive shelf with my worldly possessions.

The fifteen or so female soldiers in our company were all moved into several small tents made of shiny new synthetic rip-stop material while the male soldiers were moved into huge, smelly, moldy old canvas tents straight out of the M*A*S*H television series. There were some halfhearted complaints that it “wasn’t fair” that we got to live in the nice little tents, but before long the males were contriving reasons to visit: to borrow things, to ask advice, to flirt. They just wanted to be in a tent that didn’t smell like feet. We carted in foot lockers and extra bags, staked claims in favorite corners, set up cots and began to construct makeshift furniture out of available materials. One soldier had a tiny cardboard dresser for small clothing items; one somehow scavenged enough lumber (a very scarce commodity) to build herself a comfy and spacious bed. Eventually I ended up with an expansive shelf system for my collection of books, DVDs, and photo albums. It took some time to transform our tents into what passed for home away from home, but once we did, our little corners became individualized spaces where we could retreat after sweating and gritting through the long hot days.

It was a beautiful and lavish marble room, once.

Two things surprised me upon arrival at Engineer Village, the name given to the particular area where our camp was located. First, we had hot chow cooked by soldiers for the morning and evening meals (with MREs for lunch) and served al fresco; second, no one had anticipated the weird open air co-ed shower situation. I will discuss the chow first, and even before that I will address the cooks’ importance. Soldiers trained as cooks do not always get credit because people look at this MOS and ask “What is the big deal?” Well think of a cross country cattle drive with no Cookie. Non-operational! The cooks were immediately put on duty as soon as we arrived at camp, and their hours were insane. They had to be up around 0300 to have hot breakfast ready to serve, then they had to sanitize the pots and pans, no easy feat in primitive camp conditions. They had a break midday and then it was time to prepare for the dinner rush. The days ended with them cleaning pots and pans again and going over food preparations for the next morning. Watching them work, I had so much respect for the cook section because of their self discipline and organizational skills. Until our dining facility, or DFAC, was built, the cooks kept us well fed in a picnic setting. We sat at picnic tables and used disposable trays and utensils, making clean up a bit more convenient. This dining set up also reminded us of the M*A*S*H series, and we often joked about feeling like we were trapped in a perpetual episode. Eating outside was not always a pleasure because of the heat and wind, but it wasn’t long before our new air conditioned DFAC was built. Once the finishing touches were in place, the Army cooks hung up their serving spoons and assumed supervisory roles over the civilians who had traveled from Pakistan and India to work in food service for the Coalition Forces.

Saddam era bat house on BIAP.

After having a hot meal, we could wash dirt from the day’s work off our faces and bodies in the temporary camp showers. They were great works of engineering but they were also definitely unexpected; co-ed open air showers that left almost nothing to the imagination. In fact, save for the six foot plywood barriers separating the stalls to prevent peeking, showering would have been quite scandalous. As it was, we still had some weird conversations, especially when male and female soldiers ended up in side by side stalls. Shower conversations often went something like this. Two male soldiers: “Dude, we are in adjoining stalls, it’s like we’re showering together.” “Don’t read too much into it, man.” A male soldier and a female soldier: “Hey, I can almost see over the partition. I am going to tell your boyfriend that I saw your boobs.” “If you so much as look in this direction I will shoot you, and guess where I will aim.” ” Sorry.” Two female soldiers: “Hey lady! Is that you over there?” “Yeah, I just got off of duty.” “Sing Crazy in Love with me so I am not the only one singing in the shower! Oh, got me lookin’ so crazy right now, your love’s got me lookin’ so crazy right now…”

It was a very surreal experience to shower in such a communal yet private manner, with men and women of all ages hanging out (literally) and hollering back and forth over the partitions while scrubbing up in their respective stalls. The showers had water piped in that ran at whatever the ambient temperature was day by day, so it actually felt refreshing on the hottest days. The water was technically unheated or “cold” running water, but it was preferable to having heated water unless the only time one was able to shower happened to be early morning hours when it was below 90 degrees. Then it was not fun! We were all relieved when the new shower tents — one for males and one for females — was completed as the weather began to cool noticeably.

Relaxing in my corner.

Moving into the new camp presented many challenges for our company, but as the days went on we made the camp our home and tried to make the best of the time we spent there. We discovered that a supply NCO in the adjoining camp had opened a mini Post Exchange in a Conex shipping container shortly after arrival. He had mostly convenience items such as snacks on hand, and we could find many of our favorite candy bars, cookies, crackers, drinks, chips, and gum. As time wore on he expanded into offering boom boxes, DVD players, CD players and MP3 players, movies and CDs, magazines, and other creature comforts. He liked to blast Michael Jackson through loud speakers when his store was open, so when we heard the songs ‘Billie Jean’ and ‘Thriller’ blaring across camp, we knew that it was time to go shopping! Living a rough camp life was made a little easier with the basic luxuries that many people back home take for granted. Just having some hot chow, a cold shower, and a stroll to Sarge’s Conex PX to peruse the latest merchandise was considered pretty gracious living for the earth moving engineers at the Engineer Village in the summer of 2003.

— G

A Picture of Life Through Letters

2 Replies

I finally found the letters I had stashed away for all these years. They were in an ugly little box tucked away in a closet, just as I suspected. After sorting through them, I chose a few of my favorites, and compiled statements for readers to browse through for a taste of life in 2003 and 2004.

From an anonymous student:

April 23, 2004

Dear Soldier,

Hello, my name is Kay. We are watching “Saving Private Ryan” in our English class. As I watch I wonder, is this how it really is or do they show all this violence for the sake of our entertainment? I’ve got two older brothers that were over there; one is now out of the Marines and the other is going back for the second time. It’s scary when there are people you love over there and you never really know if they are okay or not. We only heard from my brothers a few times when they were there. Because it takes so long for the mail to get back and forth, which I’m sure you already know. I was just wondering what you do over there and how long you have been there and how much longer you have to stay…wanted to say Thank You for all you have done for the U.S. while you have been over there.

Part of a letter I did not actually send:

First of all it’s very humid. I’m never dry…always sweaty. Don’t worry, but it is still dangerous here. We have our Engineer Village along the West Wall [of BIAP]. This is a favorite spot for the Fedayeen, the Baath Party, and Iranians to launch mortars…Luckily so far the incidents have been minor. Nothing more than a mortar here or there and a few quick shots over the wall. We haven’t been officially attacked…I’ve been doing a lot of foreman and NCO/leader stuff. I’m coming into my own now, feeling better about my position. The Iraqi men on the projects will ask me questions about cement, soils, etc. and respect my expertise (if any?). Some are cautious about talking to me and most do not shake my hand. I think it is custom…not prejudice…

Today I went to the Gates of Hell in downtown Baghdad for a ceremony practice. Tomorrow the brigade commander for First Armor Division will relinquish command…I’ll be in another ceremony, this time as the guidon bearer for the company. The Gates of Hell is a gorgeous monument: arches that look like two arms with crossed sabers. I got pictures, so you will get to see them.

Mysterious letter dated on my birthday, writer unknown:

October 9, 2003

How are things in Baghdad, Iraq? Everyday lately on the news we see that our men and women are getting killed. I trust that you are okay. I pray that you are…I am glad you like the [care package] items. I went by the list your CO put out…About the tape — you didn’t mention the kind of tape that works best for you so I sent “Duck” tape. I’m grateful for the person that invented this product; there are hundreds of uses for this item…

What do you do about the dust problem? Do they supply you with dust masks? What can be done about the dust that settles in your lungs each day? If it stays in there and stacks up won’t that cause problems in the future…health problems?

Survived the Easter Attack, 2004.

Letter from an ex who joined the Air Force:

…just finished my first week of Tech School. I don’t know if you had them but we got these stupid things called phases where we are limited as to what we can do. This phase concept blows absolute ass, because seeing how I just got here I am in Phase 1, and in Phase 1 you have to be in your dorm by 2200 every night…Plus you have to be in BDUs all the time except when in your room…not to mention no alcohol until Phase 2.

OKAY TIME OUT. If you are an Army veteran who went to Basic Training and AIT circa 2000 like me you are probably laughing at this joker right now because he is totally whining about PRIVILEGES that we Army grunts NEVER got. I have no idea about training for the Navy or Marines, but seriously. The Air Force is spoiled. Let’s read more, shall we?

So right now I’m pretty disappointed, but at least it isn’t basic training…I’m sorry I didn’t write to you while I was in BMT (Basic Military Training), I just didn’t have time. It’s kinda funny. I was talking to one of my real good friends…and he just couldn’t believe I made it through Basic Training without talking back to anyone…I don’t know how I made it…it really wasn’t that bad, I mean besides the yelling. I lost 20 pounds, then put on 7 pounds of muscle, so I’m feeling pretty good right now…proud of myself.

The part about BMT that did make me smile was Warrior Week. If you didn’t know, Warrior Week was a week we spent at a mock forward deployment camp. Tents, MREs, fake MIGs, the whole nine yards. We did the confidence course, the tactical assault course, road march, all that war game stuff. Only thing is we didn’t really do any war games, which is the whole point to the week…I thought the best part was shooting the M16; it was hella fun and I missed getting expert marksman by 2 but I can retest in six months. But the real reason I kept a smile on my face is because I remembered a certain someone telling me about her National Guard war games experience…I don’t know why, but the second day of Warrior Games I got the thought of you doing your little war games stuff stuck in my head and I couldn’t quit smiling all Warrior Week. The thought of you runnin’ around in a Kevlar helmet with BDUs or fatigues or whatever you call them made me smile…At the time you told me, I only had a mental picture to go by, couldn’t really put myself in that spot. And then Bam! There it was, I was at Warrior Week understanding what you were talking about and being like “Damn, this is what G-money did, well kinda did.”

Yeah, he called me G-money when we were dating. Okay back to Army stuff.

Rough draft to my father:

15 October, 2003

Dear Dad,

Hi! How are you? I am fine…back from a run! We ran a mile, then turned around and alternated sprinting, walking and jogging on the way back. After that we lifted weights to work our biceps. I had a really good time…Today is our phone day, I mean at midnight our phone day begins. I’ll try to stay awake to call Mom. Our cell phone was taken away. And now AT&T is running a monopoly. The bastards are ripping us off so from now on I’m boycotting AT&T! The battalion still has four phones, and the company gets them every five days, so I’ll just have to call then. At least the battalion phones are on a [better] exchange rate, not like AT&T which charges 92 cents per minute.

A memo from a constituent services representative from Senator Tom Daschle’s office:

Tuesday, June 15 2004

At the pie and coffee social in Belle Fourche, I met with a woman…She and her husband were helping raise her beautiful grandson…two years old, but his mother hadn’t seen him for either of his birthdays because she was serving in Iraq. [The] grandparents had placed pictures of [the] mom on the refrigerator, and the little boy would walk up to the pictures and kiss them. [He] was an absolutely charming little boy; he had bright blue eyes and was wearing a floppy red hat that he refused to take off during the entire social. He immediately jumped into my arms and gave me a big hug while his grandparents watched and laughed. Her parents wanted [the boy] to meet Tom and talked about how important it was to watch out for our troops, and make sure they are properly protected and taken care of.

ASIDE: My son did get to meet Senator Daschle, and became a big fan of Tom. At another pie and coffee social in Belle Fourche during the 2004 campaign my little monster wouldn’t stop yelling “where’s Tom Daschle!?” during Tom’s entire speech, so his wife Linda gave him a tour of the campaign bus to keep him occupied. At our redeployment ceremony both Senator Daschle and Governor Rounds were accosted by him because by that time he had developed a fetish for sticking his hand into men’s blazer pockets to find “treasures”.

Letter from a Vietnam Veteran in Idaho:

Hope this finds you safe and well. I talked with your dad last Sunday. He said you were caught up in the 90 day extension. I know it seems like a dirty trick. I got caught in one in 1969 while in Korea. I watch a couple hours of war news every day. It is hard to believe…we don’t get much feedback on the good things that are going on. We are well into Spring now; the blue birds are back. I hope you know and will let your friends know that we support you and pray for your safe and speedy return home.

I heard about the Baghdad Boils, must be sand fleas? In Nam there were leeches, snakes, and the occasional tiger. I was planning to go to South Dakota when the school year was over but I think I’ll wait until you come home. Gas is at $2.00 a gallon. I am hoping to get caught up this spring. I haven’t got your letter yet; I keep waiting got your mom to forward it. I think she may be a little preoccupied, you suppose? Be well, be safe, keep the faith.

Another friend from the Air Force, this time an Academy graduate:

10 September @ 9:30 p.m.

I found that other letter I wrote on my co-worker’s desk. I was pleased to see it because I actually wrote down some thoughts I was meditating on, and they were significant to me. What’s up? Today I went to talk to some high school kids about the Academy. I really think that they were bored because the teacher kept steering the subject onto the semantics on it. You know, what’s the commitment, what exactly do you pay for… I wanted to talk about the fun parts, challenges, prestige, and benefits of going there (of course I included the service to the nation thing too). Oh well, we also talked about being a “special agent” but it was hard to gauge their reaction. I’m sure they enjoyed it… I kind of like public speaking. It hasn’t presented any problem as far as nervousness or anxiety. Only time I felt fidgety was when I was briefing a one star about the status of my squadron. However, as long as I know the general topic I can usually get by. Not to say I’m any good at tit. I just don’t hate it or avoid it…

Giving the flight simulator a spin at the U.S. Air Force Academy.

Then I went to work out during lunch. It’s really nice to knock out most if not all my lifting during my 45 minute workout. Hardly anyone is there and I can really focus on the task. Except for the occasional girl; that’s a give-me (is that the term or is it “givey”?) Then in the afternoon (after work) I can run and be out quick to enjoy my night of reading and writing to you and cooking, witch is a learning process for me (very hard to make a good meal). By the way, if you’re thinking “what guy reads, writes, and cooks at night? He’s gotta be gay…no man does this for fun.” Well my DVD player went out and so I have nothing but the radio and SNL and Family Guy on my computer. That only lasts so long before picking up some books. Currently I’m trying to improve my memory with a memory techniques book. You reading anything over there?

Getting back to my day, after lunch I came back to work in my gym clothes. I started washing cars and did about six cars. Fun, right? After 3-4 hours of that I noticed how much time people take out of their day with smoke breaks. I have the occasional cig on a weekend, but even that is bad. If I were General of the Military I would not allow smoking in uniform or on base. What do you think? Am I way off here? Honestly, I don’t mind washing cars and putting my back into it. You know what I hate is the 200 jackass/smartass comments as [people] walk by. Here are some of my favorites: “you washing cars, huh?” (No, I’m massaging the car’s wax coat you stupid fuck!) “You going to do mine next?” (Yeah, El Fucko, just as soon as I’m done using your office for a shitter!”) and last but not least, “you missed a spot…” (Holy shit! Why did you open your mouth?! You’re a freakin’ moron. Lay down and put your head under the tire so I can release the parking brake and put you to use!)

Allright, that was pretty much my Wednesday. Still looking for a letter, but no worries. You just relax and try to keep healthy and strong. Hmmm, I wonder if/when we’ll ever see each other again?

Your Friend on the Same Continent

Quick note from my Battle Buddy from Advanced Individual Training:

SGT Battle,

Wanted to add this quick letter to your package. Hope it gets to you near the holidays. I’m certainly not expectin’ miracles though…My boys are doing well, the third boy on the way. After that I will find out my plan for duty…Our unit left on the 10th of December for Fort Sill…they will train up for three months roughly, then head out…I really admire your strength Battle. I can just see that big white smile through all that beige and brown out there. I have you all in my heart. You just hold a special spot. Love you and Happy Holidays!

Love,

Your Battle

A Baghdad sunset.

Ten Years: A Retrospective on My Deployment

7 Replies

For the month of November I have decided on a writing project that will be very challenging, but hopefully rewarding. I will be sharing stories that until now only certain family members have heard. I have been scouring my closets, old photo boxes, scrapbooks, and my external hard drive to piece together fragmented memories of the time I spent in the Middle East. It was ten years ago, so while many details are extremely vivid, other things like specific dates, events, and especially people have become fuzzy. I was hoping to gather enough helpful documents, photos, and memorabilia to jog my memory. Some of these mementos were not to be found: a favorite picture of pillars near a body of water as we whizzed by on our way to a survey project, letters from family and friends that I likely packed away so carefully I just forgot where I put them, and little objects purchased in the bazaars that probably went missing after so many moves. However, I did find enough other items to assemble a clearer picture of where I was, literally and figuratively, ten years ago, and how far I have come since then.

At my camp with a sign I made for family and friends back home.

In 2003 when I deployed to Iraq, I was barely old enough to drink alcohol legally, just on the verge of true adulthood, and suddenly bombarded with so much responsibility in a very dangerous world. Life at the time was far from easy, and yet the fact that I stuck with the mission gave me a deep sense of gratitude for being part of a bigger picture. I sacrificed, knowingly as well as unwittingly, more than I like to admit, but I would never go back to undo my decision to sign up for National Guard service or try to get out of deployment. I served, and I gave a piece of myself for my country and for Iraq too. I believe that has made me a better person despite all that was given up along the way. Ultimately my life has only become better because now, after ten years of wondering what it was all for I can look back and say it doesn’t matter why I went to Iraq, just that I went.

An Iraqi translator who took a shine to me gave me the nickname ‘Malak’, which is the Arabic word for angel. I was surprised to be given this lofty title, especially during a time when I constantly felt insecure, self conscious, stressed out, lonely, homesick, scared and far from perfect. When I asked him why such a special name, the translator said he liked my smile. Well! He also pointed out that he knew I had potential to be like a guardian angel to many Iraqis, and that I could spend my deployment reaching out a hand to those truly in need instead of worrying about my own shortcomings. His words inspired me to think of others rather than myself, to take chances and risk my own safety to be there for others. I spent the whole deployment trying to live up to the name Malak. Not every day went well for me, but I came home knowing that I did good things for as many Iraqis as I possibly could while I was there.

Headed for a free day of Rest and Relaxation, with my camera ready.

I have been warned by another blogger, who is also an Operation Iraqi Freedom veteran, that writing my stories about deployment will not be easy. I didn’t want to believe him, but it turned out he is right. Just gathering the mementos and jotting down notes to piece the stories together has been painful. Many of my memories of deployment are at best unpleasant and at worst, quite sad. However, some of the memories are good, and some of the bad memories are worth sharing. So I am left with deciding which are worthy of turning into stories that readers will find valuable, and which are best kept to myself for the time being. Not everything could make the cut, so I followed my husband’s advice: “Share the stories that will benefit and educate the readers. If you don’t feel good about writing it, don’t share it.” Please visit me frequently throughout the month of November for more stories. And don’t forget to hug a veteran in honor of Veterans’ Day!

— G