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I'm
still in Baghdad. The folks in whose office I've
been camping out are awfully good sports about it.
They actually seemed happy to see me when I came
back from the airport.
But
I'm getting ahead of myself.
The
process of getting oneself onto flights is
complicated. I think I spend more time on the phone
arranging flights than I do actually flying places,
but getting on a flight run by people who speak
another language (and use a different phone system)
is even worse.
I
was supposed to get to Basra today (the 27th) stay
overnight there, and get back in time to catch a
blackhawk to Ramadi on the 29th. My conveyance was
going to be a British C-130. Speaking to a corporal
in the British army over a poor phone connection, I
realized that now more than ever, Mark Twain was
right when he said the Americans and Brits are
separated by a common language.
Somehow
we negotiated the obstacles posed by acronyms and
static and I managed to get myself scheduled for a
flight. Today at the Baghdad International Airport
passenger terminal (That sounds grand, doesn't it?
Don't be fooled. It's a large plywood shack.) I
signed in for my flight and, just for the heck of
it, inquired about my return trip. Glad I asked,
because the flight back was full and I'd been
bumped off. The earliest I could return would make
it impossible for me to make my flight to Ramadi.
So
that's how I found myself, once again, welcomed
back to my adoptive unit here in Camp Victory. I'm
still a little bit ahead of myself though, because
on the way back I stopped at a dining facility I
hadn't visited before. It was pretty much like all
the other ones I've eaten at, except there happened
to be a table full of Iraqi National Guardsmen
sitting in this one.
I
introduced myself to the Army specialist who was
with them, and asked if I could speak to his
friends. He was glad for me to. "Nobody usually
talks to them," he said. They were all watching me
with interest, so I acknowledged them and asked how
they were doing in Iraqi dialect. They were excited
to talk to me and a whole row of them slid down one
seat to make room for me at the center of the
table. I have seldom felt more welcome. I told them
I was happy to meet them, and that we were happy
for their help. They laughed. They said it was they
who were happy for our help. They were clearly
enjoying the food, and most of them had two or more
empty cans of Budweiser alcohol-free beer in front
of them.
One
of the guys I met was from Chicago. He had been
borne in Iraq but his family moved to the U.S. when
he was a kid. He went back to Iraq in '86 (he
didn't say why) and wound up drafted into the Army.
I asked him what it was like here under Saddam
Hussein but he wouldn't answer in detail. All he
said was, "It was a bad situation." He is glad to
be here now though, and proud of what he's doing.
He was not alone in that. Everyone at that table
was proud of what they're doing. They are the
minutemen of Iraq. At great personal risk, they are
training to be there when their country needs them.
They know that they are playing a pivotal role in
the establishment of a new nation.
Encouraged,
I left them to finish their meal. Meeting them had
confirmed what I have long suspected. Iraqis are
laying down their lives for their freedom. They are
shouldering their responsibilities as free men and
women and committing themselves to driving out the
forces that try to suppress them. Many Americans
still doubt that Iraqis can establish a free
country. I disagree. If the men I met today are any
indication, Iraq has a great future ahead of
it.
Reaching
that future will not be easy. The remaining
insurgents will have no role in a free Iraq. They
are fighting for their relevance and they will
fight to the death. Today one of them blew himself
up in a car bomb, steering toward our personnel who
were heading from the Airport into the
International Zone. Our people were traveling in a
rhino, a kind of bus that looks like a cross
between a Winnebago and an armored personnel
carrier. They were not killed, but the blast, which
rattled our windows and made our ears pop here in
the palace, killed two Iraqis. Expect more of that
as elections draw near, but despite what you may
hear in the press, these are acts of desperation.
They are less coordinated and less effective all
the time because our forces are killing the
terrorists and destroying their weapons caches. The
Iraqis will be free, and in helping free them, we
will have gone a great distance toward ensuring our
own safety.
I'm
happy for the chance to be a part of that &endash;
even if it means being stranded in Baghdad a few
more days.
Steven
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