We must be going home. It's the only reasonable explanation for such an action. The idea that this action can't be anything but packing up to leaving. Absurd to think that there could be any other explanation for this new chain of events. I'm taking rounds, ammunition, 5.56 mm M4 food out of my magazines. We all are. We're in the middle of Iraq, along the most historically deadly portion of road in Iraq, and we have nothing to defend ourselves with but our hands. The saddest thing is that everyone from me up knows how stupid the decision to turn in our rounds for a round count is, but somehow we've all accepted this kind of thing as a norm. There has to be another way, a better way. But I guess we've been around these kind of poor, misinformed and down right stupid decisions for far too long.
I was thinking to myself last night that it was kind of sad that I accepted this. That I didn't fight it, I just complied like the robot that I am. I'm in Iraq, with nothing to shoot at the enemy. Sure I could use my hands, or even my weapon as a club, but I doubt terrorists are planning an attack with similar weapons.
I started this blog this morning, after being rudely awakened to turn in all of the ammo, not only our personal, but all of our crew served weapon ammo. The idea, though probably not entirely thought out, was that our new commander needed to know exactly how much ammo the company owned, and instead of doing it from platoon to platoon, he wanted his eyes on all of it, all at one time. It left us defenseless in this war zone, and twenty minutes ago, I loaded my 7 mags back up with their 210 rounds of ammo. Safe again.
The day after force pro is always a weird one. Tonight we are supposed to venture out into the now unknown Baghdad, and drive into the downtown green zone which is still very much under coalition control. It's going to be a nice break from the continual suck of our base out here in 763. We will get a real shower, with control of hot or cold. We will hopefully get three full meals, which will be probably the best change from the 3 or 4 variations of dinner that we're used to. The trip to the PX will be a great way to pick up a bunch of bullshit that I don't really need. But considering I haven't spent more than 20 dollars in the last month, maybe it's time to pick up some crap.
Actually that 20 dollar part isn't exactly true. Let me explain. We had our Brigade Commander come and explain to us the timeline, the events that were to still unfold here in our battle plan. They included that we would get a better re-supply system, but patrols would still be on a stand still till our new unit comes to relieve us. This is the point where I bang my head into the table, because as you know, I hate to sit around. But after the three months of blogging, pt, trying to stay busy, and perhaps learning dungeons and dragons just to pass the time, we will be on our way home! We already new this of course, and even though now it's 'confirmed' we aren't holding our breath. To many times we've suffocated ourselves.
Which brings me to my lie about the 20. I've spent fifteen of the 20 over the last 2 months on haircuts from Iraqi barbers who, 'cut-a the hair.' It's a scary prospect, they use string and a straight razor. I'll explain further in another blog. Since I'm going to be back in North Carolina, I was looking at some fun things that I could do the month I get back, before or maybe even during leave. My favorite football team, the Minnesota Vikings are playing the Carolina Panthers in Charlotte, and so despite my better judgment about 'splouge' spending outside of a strip club, I bought two tickets to the game that's on December 20th. Hopefully they aren't lying about us being home by then. So it's more like 220 over the last two months. Maybe I have a little Grandma Lois in me. But I'm thinkin still more of my Dad.
Only aim to do your duty, and mankind will give you credit where you fail. -Thomas Jefferson
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