Hillah, Iraq.

We have been having a difficult time with our Exchange lately. The Exchange is the military sponsored store on base. These stores typically supply soldiers, sailors, and Marines with the basics, such as razor blades and soap. They also carry snacks, and often electronics. Imagine a military Wal Mart, and you have the general idea. On Camp Charlie, our Exchange is a single trailer from an 18 wheeler. It is occasionally open. The Green Berets often set up orders through the Exchange for things like microwave dinners (we are often out on missions during meal times, or hungry when we get back), Red Bulls and
Starbucks products, cookies, Gatorade, chips, etc. However, this time the Exchange personnel told us they were unable to help us because they were conducting inventory. In fact, they are not going to order anything until the inventory is done.

“When will you be done?”
“November 10th.”

Why they require two months to inventory the contents of a single 18 wheeler trailer and some shipping containers is a mystery to us. Popular opinion is that the Exchange staff actually uses the shipping containers to grow marijuana, and spend a majority of their time stoned and eating the Doritos that are not being sold in the Exchange, which is closed during smoke breaks. But that is just one opinion.

The Green Berets opted to not wait two months for more food, so we planned a mission to the camp down south. Our convoy consisted of the two Marine gun trucks and our highback cargo humvee. I went because I wanted to get out of town. The trip down to the camp was uneventful until we were almost there.
Staff Sergeant, who was driving, asked “Did that look like an IED to you?” This is not a particularly pleasing question. “Did what look like an IED?” “That stick in the ground with wires on it.” Driving around in Iraq is too stressful. I thought about the lengths we go to for a bag of Tostitos.
“Didn’t see it, man. Sorry” We opted to check it out on the way back.

We got stopped at the gate to the camp. The guard used his radio to call back to his sergeant, asking if it was okay for us to come in. The process went slowly. The Green Beret Warrant Officer got out to talk to the guard. Then the Marine Warrant Officer got out. Occasionally, an officer is called upon to
hang about glowering while those with real power work on problems. I got out of the humvee to join the group.I hung about glowering. Normally, I am not a glowering type of guy, but I can be prevailed upon on occasion.

“Who is it?” came through the radio.
“4th Anglico” said the guard, a private.
“Who?”
“4th Anglico.” repeated the guard.
“Marines?”
“Yes.” Finally, we are getting somewhere.
“You mean 3rd Anglico?” asked the sergeant.
“No, 4th Anglico.”
“3rd Anglico?”

This was ridiculous. I turned my glower up a notch, and willed my rank insignia to gleam menacingly. The private sighed, and mumbled, “That guy is an idiot.” He raised the gate to let us in. “Sorry about making you wait.”

The Special Forces had money to spend, and there is not much fun better than helping other people spend their money. The Exchange in this camp was awesome. As a rule, American camps are well supplied in chow and other amenities, as they have only to deal with the American supply system. Coalition camps are poorly supported due to the logistical nightmare of working with the supply systems of multiple nations.

We bought a lot. Of everything. By comparison, this Exchange was a veritable Sam’s Wholesale. We bought Pop Tarts, Tostitos, microwavable dinners of stew, chili, and chicken. We bought every Red Bull and Starbucks product they had. We bought Oreos and Gatorade. It was satisfying to indulge after so long
without.

After the vehicles were loaded, we went to the chow hall. Talk about being in the big city. They had all the foods that we have not seen in weeks. I had fried chicken, some pasta, a salad, REAL biscuits with honey, and some pie. First biscuit I have had in weeks. I also had a Gatorade (first one in probably two weeks), as well as iced tea. Sweet tea, actually, which rocked. They also had drink boxes, but I opted for the Gatorade and tea. Best lunch I have had in nearly three weeks. It made the trip worthwhile.

We stopped near the stick with a wire on the way back. After examining it from a distance, we etermined that it was just a stick with some old wire attached. It definitely pays to err on the side of safety, but I have gotten really tired of driving around while worrying about every box, old tire, piece of trash, lump of concrete, or anything else on the side of the road because that trash might hide a bomb. That stress takes all the fun out of a drive.