Shek

TopHatter,
Here's some of my pics from Iraq. I don't think that you'll find them much different than what you can find on the milblogger blogs.

1. The first one is of myself on the left and my FSO on the right with girls school class.
2. The second one is of an older student and some teachers at the same school.
3. The third one is of some kids that wanted their picture taken while we were conducting an op in their neighborhood - after the first pictures we'd "take" a picture every couple minutes to get them to stop bothering us. Like I side before, the digital camera was an amazing piece of equipment to Iraqis in general and if you had it out they'd try their hardest to get into a picture whether you wanted them in or not!
4. The forth one is of the map used by a precinct station in my zone. I took this picture because it demonstrated to me how worthless the police force was under Sadaam - it was nowhere near what we would consider a police force - the secret police did most of the work that our police do, except that they were also judge, jury, and executioner as well.
5. The final picture is of some boys in a village that was in my company's zone who would try to get us to ride their a$$ everytime we came.

This should hopefully give you a small flavor. As far as more anecdotes about "when the boys are out, the girls will play," here's a milblogger's account - it's pretty funny. If you read into his blog, you'll see that he's definitely a guy that wears his emotions on his sleeve. I'm not too keen on some of the tactics used by his unit, but those are decisions far beyond his level as a team leader. Enjoy.

Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Sewage and Kobah
http://thisisyourwar.blogspot.com/20...and-kobah.html

Back with the patrol, Harvey wrapped my arm up with gauze and taped it. Kids, adults, and old people were everywhere mingling with Soldiers. Al was talking to a family about his kids at Home, LT was doing his part with Sam, everyone acting normal. As I was being wrapped up a gate across from me opened up, kids spilling out on to the street, behind them stood a young woman, anywhere from 17 to 20. Straight brown hair hung to her slim shoulders framing a narrow face with a long but pleasant nose. Dark eyes and lips shaped like a bow. She stayed in the door while her brothers crowded around to see what was going on with me. After awhile I figured out she was looking at me, not just watching me like like all Iraqis watch us, but she was...I guess... Checking me out. That made me feel good.
After Harvey was done, I stood near by, my vehicle was there after all. The woman would send her brothers up to talk to me then they would run back to her and report. I smiled at her. She smiled back and waved, dipping her chin into her neck her slim hand held near her face. God help me, my heart was beating faster flirting with this girl and I'm married. If Wendy was here I knew she would be laughing at me and teasing me so it was ok. Anyway, like anything was going to happen...But I could sure look.
Ask any Joe that has been here about Iraqi women, they are beautiful. I know the same thing was said about Vietnamese women by returning Soldiers in that war. I don't think it is just the lack of getting any that causes that attraction, there are American women all over the camps and we spend a lot of time checking them out too, but there is something about the Iraqi women. Their dark skin, they way they will cling to each other in groups while in public, shyly smiling and waving at us, laughing behind their hands. Many of the wear Western style clothing, Skirts, those damn tight jeans and shirts that display every curve - "Damn! She's got an ass like an onion! Make you want to cry!" SGT Agie has shouted many times from the back seat on patrol. Others will cover their hair with a scarf but dress Western. Even the ones wearing the abays are hot. It works in the reverse of the way it was meant, instead of making them a shapeless blob you wonder what they look like under there. Men are pigs, even more so when we are wearing a uniform. Perhaps the nearness of death is what makes sex and women even more prominate on our minds. I wonder if it dose the same for female Soldiers, the Janes?
This girl was wearing a T shirt and jeans in the manor described showing off a slim waist and hour glass figure. A girl that would never look twice at me back in The World.
I took her and her brothers some candy, her mother was there too. If they spoke better English I would have said something like,"Oh, you must be her older sister." Smooth is one thing I have never been considered though my exgirlfriend, Chris, told me that I can be very charming when I want to be.
"Salaam a lekum," I said approaching.
"Hello," the mother said, the girl smiled again. "Are you hungry?"
I was shocked, what was I supposed to say? "Ah, sure, ok. Thank you."
"Wait." The mother went inside the house leaving me with the girl and her brothers.
She spoke to one of them. "My sister wants to know your name."
I told them and they told her. I asked her name,"Fatima."
Alright, now we are getting somewhere.

Then Mobey showed up.

"Ah, my friend, how are you? Talking to the girls I see."
"Yes", I was a bit annoyed but maybe he could help me translate," I'm ok -"
"Your pants are all wet still. I have some others, perhaps they would fit." This guy was offering me his pants. I had learned from the lighter incident and I wasn't wearing drawers.
"No, thanks, they will dry soon." But if you could hook me up with Fatima here... I thought.
Fatima's mother came back with a plate of cucumbers and tomatoes all cut and nearly arranged and a plate of dark rice and chicken, garnished and everything.
"Can you stay, come inside?" I wanted to more than anything right then. **** the patrol. **** the squad, you guys go on with out me, I'm gonna chill here. Swing by and pick me up on the way back to camp.
"SGT D! We gotta go!" Agie waved from the turret, Keo is on leave back in The World so he is acting as gunner. I could see the men climbing aboard the trucks.
"No, I'm sorry we have to go but..." I went to the truck and began to cut and empty water bottle open to put the food in. One of Fatima's brothers came over and knocked the bottle out of my hands. "No, dirty." Like I was a small child."You wait."
When I turned back Fatima and her mother were gone, back into the house. I keyed up my radio, "Ah, Red Two, this is Two Alpha. Give me a minute, ok. I'm doing some community relations here.Over."
"Two Alpha...Blah,blah,blah..." I didn't care.
They came back, with the rice dish on a paper plate, the vegetables, and a big bowl of red orange sauce with round white cake looking things floating in it. I later learned it is a dish called Kobah. The bowl was a good one, ceramic with little flowers painted on it.
"No, I can't take that. That's a good bowl."
"No, you take, enjoy." The mother told me handing over the bowel, it was hot even through my gloves."Be safe."
"Ok, thank you," I touched my chest with my hand, this time really meaning it.
I handed the rice dish off to SGT Moore, one of our FISTers, put the bowl on the radio and the plate on the mount. I had to go now, the lead trucks were moving out. Getting in and slamming the door shut I looked back at them all. The mother who had given me food and her good bowel, the waving kids, and Fatima, trying to lock it all in my mind.
Days ago I was ready to burn this entire city down and now I had enough food to feed my entire team, I my very well have this families lunch in my truck. I felt something break free in my chest, it hurt, it made me long for this war to be over. Not just for me but for these kind people. My eyes stung and I swiped at them, mad at myself. How can we fight this kind of war and not go insane? On the other street, where I fell, an old man talked about,"The Day of Liberation, the day the Americans came and set us free." Why doesn't the news talk about that? Why don't the people at Home hear those stories? I have been treated with kindness much more often than I have been not here, I wish I could say the same for my treatment at Home, by my own people. More often than not I am looked down upon for being a Soldier. I've been flipped off while in uniform, called a Nazi and a storm trooper, and even been called a baby killer, I've felt the room go cold when I have told people what I do, been fired from jobs, refused jobs, because I am in the Guard. But here, where I worry every single day about somebody being killed, about me being killed I am thanked over and over again.

I don't get it.

The Kobah was very good. I showed LT Mac the dish and plate, told him how the woman gave them to me.
"Well, I guess we'll just have to go back and return it then on tomorrows patrol."

Here's the following blog entry about returning the plate:
http://thisisyourwar.blogspot.com/20...atrol-day.html

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Anon

You were in the 2d ID shek?

LOL, i thought you were in the 25th.

Whoops...

Franco Lolan

Thank you for serving Shek.

Shek

Here's a few more pics.

1. Searching for a mad mortarmen. Yes, that's Iraq, not Vietnam!
2. Crossing from Kuwait into Iraq - this was the only day in Iraq that my vehicle couldn't perform its mission. Much like a horse that balks at danger, the transmission sensor died just as we were reaching the border and wouldn't shift out of 1st gear. You can see the cab of the HET that we rode on. I caught a lot of flak for that, but explained it as wanting the best vantage point to observe and destroy the enemy from, and so the HET was the only option It was fixed that night and never died on me again during the rest of my time in Iraq.
3. Here's the company picture in JAN '04 with the remnants of Saddam's Air Force.

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Shek

TH,
Here's another story about kids and soldiers interacting. The link actually has a picture of a soldier in Mosul riding a bike in the middle of a bunch of kids.

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With the Stryker Brigade in Iraq
News Tribune editor/reporter Matt Misterek and photographer Peter Haley are in Iraq following the Stryker Brigade from Fort Lewis. See how the Stryker Brigade is doing in Iraq with their regular reports and add your comments to the mix.

Jun 8, 2005 10:23 am

Sharing joy with the littlest Iraqis

Most of the Fort Lewis soldiers here have a pretty good attitude about the mobs of children who follow them around the streets of Mosul, though their patience does wear thin from time to time and they eventually tell them to scram, or "imshi."

The most impressive interaction with the young'uns that I've seen was a few weeks ago by Sgt. Darnell Cooper, a soldier with the 1st Battalion, 5th Infantry Regiment -- the Bobcats. Showing joy rather than mere tolerance, he hoisted them over his head. He rode around on a tiny bicycle, getting more laughs than a Shriner clown at a circus. And he sang the Muslim call to prayer with them, gathered in a circle.

"They like it that you actually took the time to learn the prayer," said Cooper, who picked it up while serving with the 1st Armored Division in Baghdad in 2003.

The 22-year old who lives in Steilacoom doesn't have any kids of his own yet, but he helped raise two younger sisters back in Belize, Central America.

If the children here can hang on to memories of soldiers like Darnell Cooper, Iraq may be a more hospitable place for Americans 10 or 20 years from now.

--Matt