Of New Adventures and Falafel...

  Welcome back to the Danger Chronicles!  I guess I should start out by saying that I’m sorry it has taken me so long to update this tale of adventuring and world-saving…Life has been more than a little crazy, and it has taken some huge adjustments to get back to a place that I felt I could write about. That being said, I’m trying to make it a bigger priority to write here more often, keep all of you, my dear family and friends, up to date and in the loop about the goings on in this part of the world. I realized that I haven’t written since Kuwait, so I have all kinds of stuff to catch you up on. Go grab a beverage, maybe a snack, and buckle up…

  It took us about a day to travel from Kuwait to Bahgdad…first by bus, then another bus, then a long wait in a crowded tent, then a third bus, a little hop in a C-17, and finally a fourth bus. The C-17 is a giant military plane, insanely huge on the inside…but when you’re carrying a full company of infantry with all of their gear, it doesn’t feel nearly so big. We were wearing our full kit, helmet, body armor, pads, weapon, ammo, and our duffels, so movement between busses was pretty tricky, but insanely funny. When someone lost their balance and slowly keeled over, they couldn't stand up again if their life depended on it…not the greatest feeling when you’re going to be wearing most of that gear everyday for the next year, but still kind of funny. They packed us into the plane so tightly, we couldn't get to our seatbelts…even if we had flown the entire way upside down, I don’t think a single one of us would have come out of our seats though. Around 3am we finally got our room assignments and got to sleep for a little while. The next day was spent inventorying all of our gear and personnel, making sure everyone and everything had made it to our camp without trouble. We were put onto a 15 day spin up cycle, where over the next two weeks we would outfit our Strykers, get our weapons ready, train in squad and team tactics, and slowly integrate ourselves into the patrol schedule. The bad guys decided to play early, though, and our first full night here, we were hit with a rocket attack from somewhere out in sector. 5 guys were hurt, and one was killed…definitely a huge wake up for us, that we weren’t training anymore, this was the big game now. They took our 15 days spin up and compressed it into 3 days, because there were no other combat companies in our AO, or area of operations, to keep and eye and patrol for trouble. Those days were a blur, very little sleep, no personal time whatsoever…but we hit our goal and were out in sector right away. For the first month we spent every day on patrol in some way, trying to root out the jerks with the rockets and get to know the area better. Overall, things have been pretty frustrating…almost all of the big attacks we’ve faced have been indirect, mortars and rockets, so there is no one to go after directly. It can be incredibly stressful too, since the enemy doesn’t wear uniforms or draw lines…anyone watching us from the streets or markets could be planning something, ready to hit the button that sends him and everyone around him to Allah…you have to be on guard all day, everyday. The good part is, all of the craziness and stress has brought my squad together pretty well, and made us all veterans in pretty short order…guys who were nervous and fidgety about going outside the wire are now cool, able to watch out for danger without jumping at shadows. We’ve built some rapport with a few of the locals, too…one shop owner that we pass every so often hooks us up with falafels and this bizarre peach drink after we helped keep some trouble away from his stall…Purely selfishly. I love falafel. They make this flatbread over here that is amazing, and they stuff it with fresh veggies and these weird balls of corn meal that are so good…So far the only Arabic I have learned is how to tell someone to stop, lay down, get away, and I want to buy falafel. There is an Iraqi Police compound that we spend every 3^rd or 4^th day at, helping train the police and staying guard for 24 hours at a time, so if someone in sector bites off more than they can chew and needs the professionals to come regulate, we roll out as the QRF, or quick reaction force. At this compound, there is a little old man who runs the falafel shop, who hooks us up with sweet deals on amazing food that he makes. I decided one day that I really just wanted the flat bread, without anything else…its so good…anyways, I grabbed our interpreter Peter (not his real name, I’m sure) and asked him how to order just the bread. He looked at me like I had just grown horns and asked, “What do you want in it?”

“Nothing at all.” says I. “just the bread.”

“Okay…but what will you put inside it?”

“I shall put naught inside it, but my teeth…”

“So…just lettuce and (insert Arabic word for little balls of cornmeal)?”

“Nope, just bread, Peter. You can do whatever you want with the insides, just give me some tasty bread.”

  Peter shook his head and started to explain this to the shop owner…I could tell that the little old man was having as hard a time understanding this as Peter was. They went back and forth, and I explained to Peter a few more times that I only wanted flatbread…and finally the old man gave in and went inside. Now normally, we get 5 falafels for 5 bucks…they love the 5 dollar bill for some reason. They won’t take 5 one dollar bills, but they’ll do anything for a 5 spot. I handed over Mr Lincoln, expecting 5 pieces of flatbread…and instead was handed 2 full grocery bags full of bread. Apperently, the exchange rate for flatbread is 40 pieces for 5 dollars…I had a pretty great day after that. I handed them out to the platoon, and became a hero for 5 minutes…and still had more delicious flatbread than I could handle. It can be a magical country, every blue moon or so. I’ve also had my fun with the Iraqi Police, or IPs. They think it’s really funny to come up to us and start talking really fast in Arabic, fully aware that we have no idea what they’re talking about. This really threw a few of our guys at first, frustrating them and confusing them to no end. Fortunately, I’ve spent some time with punk kids in my time, and learned to recognize such games…and I started talking back. About the same speed, I would start lecturing them on the dangers of a high lactose diet, the intricacies of the Star Wars trilogy and it’s impact on modern cinema, and even my ideas on improving their garbage disposal process…namely, doing something with their garbage, instead of throwing it into the street. The IPs were pretty confused at first, and then a couple of the other guys in my platoon started picking up on the game and laying it themselves…it’s pretty awesome. A few of the IPs understand some English, and I’ve gotten pretty good at charades so I can hold pretty basic conversations with them…mostly about weapons or Disneyland, things like that. I’ve had a few pretty sweet encounters though…one IP loved kung fu movies, and we ended up having an epic battle on the side of their compound, full of bruce lee noises and fake fighting…the IP who LOVES micheal Jackson, and was still saddened by his passing…but could sing and dance ot every one of his hits. There are a couple of guys here who respect me a little less for doing the thriller dance with him, but it made me laugh all day, and had to look pretty goofy…me in full armor, with my machine gun strapped to my chest, and him with his AK hangly loosly from his uniform, dancing around…I wish they all could have such a sense of humor. The country of Iraq itself looks pretty miserable…think about any post-apocalyptic movie where the city is torn apart and there is just junk everywhere, and you’ll get close. I will try to take some more pictures to show you, but a lot of the city is just a dump. Some of the farm areas, by contrast, can be kind of pretty…groves of palm trees (that can hide snipers) fields of green crops (that can be hiding any number of explosives or other fun things) and packs of dogs (usually feral and slightly on the rabid side…but the puppies still look like puppies, and it’s only a matter of time before I try to kidnap one).
  Our schedule has normalized a little...we're on a three day cycle right now. One day of patrol, so we're out in sector for 10 -12 hours, one 24 hour day of QRF, and then a maintenance day to service our strykers and gear, and get a little rest before doing it all over again. I don't get much downtime, but I've learned to treasure what time I do get.

  I want to thank you all for your thoughts and prayers…I definitely had a few hard days getting adjusted and dealing with everything, and wasn’t feeling as joyful and fun as I usually am. I know that He has brought me exactly where I am for a reason, and I am finding my strength in Him daily. I have been blessed with incredibly supportive and loving family, amazing friends, and an unbelievably fantastic and loving girlfriend who have all stood by me,  encouraged me without end and prayed for me daily. Without all of you, I wouldn’t be doing nearly as well as I am now…I have a growing rep with my platoon, and even the company of being a happy kid, smiling way too much and not letting the craziness get me down. I’ve had a chance to encourage a few of the guys around here, and generally bring some joy to my squad. I set up some speakers in the back of our truck, so on mission we can rock out and listen to my ipod. You haven’t truly enjoyed a song until you’ve heard 8 heavily armed guys singing, “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling” or “Buttercup” at the top of their lungs while scanning for roadside bombs…oh, life.

  I will do my best to update this a little more often than every 3 months, especially as things around here change and I have more stories to tell. Please feel free to write me anytime, or send me some thoughts or verses…I appreciate hearing from you all, and am praying constantly for you. Keep your eyes on Him, and enjoy yourself a little extra today for me!

Nate