sidewalk.
At seven- thirty, two guys rode up on bicycles and stopped in front of the Iranian house. Both men got off of their bikes, leaned them up against the Iranians’ gate, and then they just walked away. Now, why would two people just lean their bikes against a gate, leave them unattended, and walk away?
I saw one of the Iranians in the back yard and tried to tell him, but he did n o t speak English. He called to someone inside the house, and a moment later , a man with a long beard and a turban came outside. He spoke English, and I told him what had just happened. The man with the long beard casually walked toward the gate , grabbed one of the bicycles , and threw it into the street. He grabbed the second bicycle and threw it further, almost clearing the street. The bearded man then casually walked back into the house and closed the door. As soon as the bearded man was back inside, the original, suspicious looking , guy jumped on the bicycle in the street and peddled off.
I a m not really sure if the bikes we re rigged with some type of an explosive, or if they were just a trial run to judge the reaction by us and the Iranians. I did n o t see anything strapped or attached to either bike, but the whole thing was just weird. I t takes a lot of explaining to describe what happened, but it was all over within a minute or two. This place is loaded with some strange shit.
Today, after shift, we had no patrols and no missions. It was in the upper seventies, and the sun was bright. A few of us hit the gym, and then the squad gathered up in the rear parking area for a squad football game. It i s easy to get lost in moments like that and forget where you are. It i s a really we ird feeling when one minute you a re dealing with Iranian agents and the possible near bombing of an Iranian safe house, and the next minute you a re playing football with your friends.
I think it was yesterday or the day before when I was talking about all the creepy crawly things we have to deal with here. About a week ago, one of the guys on my squad had to shave his head and use some special shampoo because he got lice. We laughed at him and made fun of him for it. Come on, who would n o t make fun of their friend for that? Well, as the modern proverb goes, karma really is a bitch . Four more of us now have head lice , and I a m one of them. We had to get our heads shaved, right down to the skin, and get our own special shampoo. The worst part was when the doctor told me, “Wood, you guys all need to make sure you ’ re showering more. Make a better effort.” How fucking embarrassing!
April 4, 2003 :
Not a lot happened on shift last night. It was very quiet, and afterwards , we only did a short three hour patrol outside the compound. A few days ago, I got my smallpox vaccine, and it i s really kicking the crap out of me. My whole body aches , and every joint is sore. It feels like I have the flu, but without being sick.
I went to one of the doctors to make sure it was normal to feel this way. He told me it was n o t unusual, and it would pass within a few days. He said he could write me an order for light duty for a day or two, but I told him I woul d be fine.
As we were finishing, I asked him if he knew anything about the kid who had been stung by the scorpion the other day. He told me the little boy had died. The doc said he died just shortly after arriving in Bagram, and there was nothing anybody could have done. I did n o t s ay anything, but I feel like it wa s at least partially my fault. The Sergeant and I spent so much time trying to turn the boy’s father away; I wonder if we wasted the minutes that could have made a difference. If we let him in right away, would he have lived?
When I think about it rationally, I know it i s not my fault. The Sergeant and I had no idea what had happened, we had no idea how serious it was, and when we did find out we got help right away. But it i s a little boy, and it i s hard to think that
At seven- thirty, two guys rode up on bicycles and stopped in front of the Iranian house. Both men got off of their bikes, leaned them up against the Iranians’ gate, and then they just walked away. Now, why would two people just lean their bikes against a gate, leave them unattended, and walk away?
I saw one of the Iranians in the back yard and tried to tell him, but he did n o t speak English. He called to someone inside the house, and a moment later , a man with a long beard and a turban came outside. He spoke English, and I told him what had just happened. The man with the long beard casually walked toward the gate , grabbed one of the bicycles , and threw it into the street. He grabbed the second bicycle and threw it further, almost clearing the street. The bearded man then casually walked back into the house and closed the door. As soon as the bearded man was back inside, the original, suspicious looking , guy jumped on the bicycle in the street and peddled off.
I a m not really sure if the bikes we re rigged with some type of an explosive, or if they were just a trial run to judge the reaction by us and the Iranians. I did n o t see anything strapped or attached to either bike, but the whole thing was just weird. I t takes a lot of explaining to describe what happened, but it was all over within a minute or two. This place is loaded with some strange shit.
Today, after shift, we had no patrols and no missions. It was in the upper seventies, and the sun was bright. A few of us hit the gym, and then the squad gathered up in the rear parking area for a squad football game. It i s easy to get lost in moments like that and forget where you are. It i s a really we ird feeling when one minute you a re dealing with Iranian agents and the possible near bombing of an Iranian safe house, and the next minute you a re playing football with your friends.
I think it was yesterday or the day before when I was talking about all the creepy crawly things we have to deal with here. About a week ago, one of the guys on my squad had to shave his head and use some special shampoo because he got lice. We laughed at him and made fun of him for it. Come on, who would n o t make fun of their friend for that? Well, as the modern proverb goes, karma really is a bitch . Four more of us now have head lice , and I a m one of them. We had to get our heads shaved, right down to the skin, and get our own special shampoo. The worst part was when the doctor told me, “Wood, you guys all need to make sure you ’ re showering more. Make a better effort.” How fucking embarrassing!
April 4, 2003 :
Not a lot happened on shift last night. It was very quiet, and afterwards , we only did a short three hour patrol outside the compound. A few days ago, I got my smallpox vaccine, and it i s really kicking the crap out of me. My whole body aches , and every joint is sore. It feels like I have the flu, but without being sick.
I went to one of the doctors to make sure it was normal to feel this way. He told me it was n o t unusual, and it would pass within a few days. He said he could write me an order for light duty for a day or two, but I told him I woul d be fine.
As we were finishing, I asked him if he knew anything about the kid who had been stung by the scorpion the other day. He told me the little boy had died. The doc said he died just shortly after arriving in Bagram, and there was nothing anybody could have done. I did n o t s ay anything, but I feel like it wa s at least partially my fault. The Sergeant and I spent so much time trying to turn the boy’s father away; I wonder if we wasted the minutes that could have made a difference. If we let him in right away, would he have lived?
When I think about it rationally, I know it i s not my fault. The Sergeant and I had no idea what had happened, we had no idea how serious it was, and when we did find out we got help right away. But it i s a little boy, and it i s hard to think that
Similar Books
