Sunday, 27 Feb 2011
Time to return a base to the Iraqis and I’m nervous as I think through the multiple issues that could derail this operation. My stomach is in knots and I left half my lunch behind. This feeling will get worse in the months ahead so I force myself to let go and focus on the moment. I let myself enjoy the feel of the late morning sun warm on my face and the feel of sweat underneath my armored vest. It’s a feeling of being alive and part of the world and I like it.
It’s a ground movement today and physical memory systems go into high gear as we activate the multiple electronic and security systems on the vehicle. The layout of the vehicle, to include where the turret gunner places his feet, all trigger memories of past missions. For the next thirty minutes memories will continue to flood my brain as we traverse Abu Grab in route to our base return. Abu Grab was my unit’s area of operations six years ago and I wonder how returning there will feel.
We’re running late due to a coordination error so the long drive off base drags at my patience. When we finally exit the base the smells of town reach out to grab me and drag me back through the years. The dust, sewage, and ash filling my nostrils as my eyes start soaking in old sites that have changed. Many of the cement walls are gone, more people walk the streets, and the big mosque sweeps by my window. We pass the main town intersection and continue down a street I’d previously only traveled in the dark of night. The streets are still run down and filled with security but the shops on the other sides of puddles and trash are full of wares. The muffler shops even have new mufflers hanging outside where old recycled mufflers used to hang.
We cross the bridge that used to be blocked to all traffic and enter West Abu Grab in all its glory. There is the old house the IED makers operated from, then the street our snipers hunted IED emplacers. The main market area remains full of trash and debris but shops have an active clientele. I smile while watching a small child following her mother around a big nasty puddle. I could see the girl thinking how much fun it would be to jump in that big puddle. Her mom also saw her look and made the necessary verbal corrections to keep her on the dry path.
We drive by Iraqi security positions. The normal army positions and even some police who did not exist the last time I was here. I took a breath when we crossed the main check point bridge. The old hole from the suicide bomber was repaired and the bridge itself was open to civilian traffic. All normal things that were abnormal before. Kids are playing soccer in areas formerly forbidden and the town shops remain busy with all kinds of people. My mind is racing as we pass old landmarks, the prison, the “Evil Mosque” and even the propane plant all trigger visions of past misadventures. I say a brief prayer of remembrance and thanks and then let the memories go.
Soon we arrive at the base. The Iraqis are already manning the internal security positions on the American side and the US soldiers stood ready to leave the base. Being late had one advantage. We’d missed the Keystone Cop routine that seems mandatory before the Iraqi officials will sign the paperwork to accept the equipment left on the base. Even though we conduct joint inventories in the week leading up to the transfer the Iraqis always want to verify the whole thing before signing on the dotted line. They start running all over the base, counting air conditioners, generators, and light switches to make sure they did not run away in the night.
The final sign over is anti-climatic. The return trip is not as emotional. When we get inside the main gate I mentally check off one more base returned.
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