It's July 4. And I am overnighting in Baghdad, Iraq, at a place called CPIC, which stands for Combined Press Information Center. The accomodations are fine, there is plenty of food, and the air conditioning actually works too well.
From the night of June 30, until the moring of July 4, I embarked on a journey to Taji. Somewhere around June 23, my camera broke and I had to come into camp Fallujah to coordinate replacement cameras. That took some doing, but within 24-hrs, I was able to order two new cameras. I've been waiting, improvising and generally overcoming adversity in the interim. I was also able to journy to camp Taji, where a large array of helicopters are stationed, compliments of the 1st Cav out of Ft. Hood, TX. Among them is a CH47 Chinook helicopter unit that happens to be home to my son currently. So, I decided to find some stories in Taji, and visit him. It was well worth the time and effort, on all fronts.
Just getting around Iraq is in itself, an adventure.
Today as I was peering out the open window on the UH60 Blackhawk I was a passenger on, and I realized that since January of 2004, I've seen a few places in this land, and perhaps so many now, that all the times I've travelled here and there and back and forth might becoming a bit of a blur in some respects. That is why I feel it is important to write as often as possible, each day, when the opportunity presents itself, for it is becoming quite clear that time is indeed flying by me at a faster pace than ever before.
Moving around Iraq is difficult. Oh, it's basically going from point A to point B, but the coordination and the logistics of pulling it off, is really time consuming and can wear a person out if he has not adapted to how it all happens. First and foremost, one must always travel light. The elements are also always a factor to cosider. Just today, not only is it quite hot this time of year, but there was the threat of a dust storm early this morning that nearly scrubbed the mission. That was the one factor I had neglected to figure into my plans. Thankfully, conditions had not deteriorated to a degree that grounded the trip from Taji to Baghdad.
For the unexperienced Iraq traveler, it should be noted that moving about in Iraq is not like a vacation. The actual flying time, more or less, from where I was, Taji, to where I am returning, Fallujah, is really around 30-minutes. However, to get from Taji to Fallujah, I have to go to Baghdad, land at a particular LZ, get picked up, overnight, wait, get on another flight, and end up in Fallujah, and again get picked up, wait, and figure out once again, how to return to FOB Reaper. All of this is perfectly coordinated by all my POC's down the track along the way. It is not at all a complaint, rather, an explanation from the ground level I exist on, what it is like to get to where I am going, on any given day, to do what I am doing.
For those of you stateside, what I'm trying to convey is that a person just doesn't walk over to the ticket counter of the nearest travel agent, take a cab to the airport, get on a flight and get off, all this before noon on any given day. But given the perameters of the war zone I'm in, and the gigantic logistical challenges facing not just myself, but every single person involved in what we call "Opertion Iraqi Freedom", I am quite satisfied to experience just how it all works and in turn write about it in a general sense for the audience to somehow get a feel of what it takes to get something done, in an old school mentality, (me), in the high tech age of today, in this war zone. Oh, and by the way, did I forget to mention that the "bad guys" are always trying to kill you.
I'm always thinking of what best to write about for the benefit of the audience, while I'm trying to get back to the original plan. Some writers of such things call it filler. I see it as all part of the journey. For after all, I feel like I'm the Iraq representative at times for Frommer's guide to getting around Iraq, for someday, there may come a time when tourists actually take vacations to Iraq, buy and sell time share condos, go see the sights, (what's left of
them) and maybe a whole host of other things. After all, thirty-five years ago, no one thought Viet Nam would be open for business, yet, it is now, albeit has a long ways to go. But maybe one day, tour groups might want to come here, but I cannot see it happening unless they open up a casino or something of that sort....and even then, it's a stretch.
During my stay in Taji, I was able to meet up with a Macedonian friend of mine named Boban. I had known him for a couple of years while working in Balad. In time I got to know many Macedonians and was intrigued by their culture and their history. I learned about the makeup of the former Yugoslavia and all the complex components that dictated it's political landscape. In Taji, I was brought to meet the soldiers of the Macedonian Army that are members of the coalition in the global war on terrorism. I spent two long nights, sitting up with Boban and his countrymen, drinking a blend of coffee that was absolutely the most caffine filled drink I've ever had. Needless to say, getting to sleep, no matter how exhausted I was, was nearly impossible, so I stayed up each night, being educated on very big things, from members of a very small, but facinating country.
It has always been easy for me to mingle with others who come from places I've not been to, yet. Macedonia is for sure a place I will go, at some point in time in the months, years ahead. These soldiers I drank coffee with until the early hours of the morning, told me of how they have joined the coalition in subduing terror on this side of the world in hopes of eventually joining NATO. The break-up of the former Yugoslavia in the 90's, which led to what we now refer to as "The war in the Balkans", opened up Independence for Macedonia, which is NEVER to be referred to as a region of Northern Greece.
So, I thought it fitting, and a little inventive on my part, to be awake in the early hours of July 4, in Iraq, a nation at war, surrounded by thousands of United States Military personell, including my own son, discussing with a "coalition partner" (nation), the matters of what happens when a former country
(Yugoslavia) disinegrates, and a new nation (Macedonia)is born. As I was interviewing the soldiers from Macedonia with my little digital voice recorder, I found myself reflecting back in history to what it must have been like 230 odd years ago for what was then the colonys. At that time, there must have been many outside influences, from other countries who had varried reasons for helping, or not helping this young nation to gain independence.
So, putting it all together in one lump sum, I can only say that, on the 4th of July, early, early in the morning, I received an enlightened education about why I treasure what I have at any given moment wherever I am on this globe, given whatever the circumstance(s) might be. On this day, in Iraq, I spoke with Macedonians, as the son of an Italian immigrant, and reflected on American independence. I am happy on the 4th of July.
Jim Spiri
jimspiri@yahoo.com
Comments (1)
First off, I have to give it up to you for being such a great writer and reporter. People need to read these blogs. Most people have a clouded view of what goes on in Iraq, and the war effort in general. With your column, many people can really gain enlightment as to what's going on there. I can't even begin to think of the risks, the hardships, and the experience you're living. It's really intriguing, and wonderful. Also, it's nice that after all you endure, you're outlook is so positive and strong. Plus it's always great to hear that "the bad guys are always trying to kill you." Sheesh. Stay strong, and keep doing what you're doing.
ps. Your daughter's a mean lady. But cool. haha.
-Will H. Senior 08'
Posted by Will H | August 17, 2007 1:28 PM
Posted on August 17, 2007 13:28