Hillah, Iraq.
When I went to meet the Warrant Officer and Staff Sergeant for breakfast, I found them in the main ‘street’ running the length of the trailer area. They were talking to three ‘out of town’ Marines: a female major, a male second lieutenant, and a female lance corporal. They were here doing research for training to minimize Iraqi to Iraqi violence on prisoners. Prisoners have been showing up in front of judges really beat up, which often results in their release out of sympathy. We told them the Special Forces captain was the one to talk to about that. They were only here for a day, and they really wanted to see Ancient Babylon while they were in the neighborhood. I checked with the Warrant Officer and Staff Sergeant, but our mission was going to be over by lunch, with plenty of time to take them out there. They declined breakfast, so the three of us set off to the chow hall.
We found that the Marines already knew about the visitors. The female Lance Corporal had them already stirred up.
‘Hey, sir, did you hear there were female Marines in camp?’
‘I think I did hear something about that.’ I replied.
They started an animated discussion on the lance corporal’s merits, which were many.
‘You boys think you would like to spend an afternoon with her?’
‘Yes, sir!’
‘I will see what I can do.’ I said, and smiled.
‘You see,’ said one, ‘that is why he is the Lieutenant Commander!’
Today’s mission was opening up another school. A friend of mine supplied me with nearly a dozen Hot Wheels to give out to kids, and I figured this would be the perfect opportunity to see how Iraqi kids like toy cars. I got some zip lock bags, and we loaded up the bags with candy, toothbrushes, and, in a select few, Hot Wheels cars.
The usual routine of loading up and rolling out, and we arrived without event. Anglico provided security by blocking off the two lane road at either end of the front of the school. The road was pretty busy, so we had to let traffic through. Iraqi drivers are not the most aware or skilled drivers I have ever seen. We had slowed down the traffic, which created a minor backup of half a dozen cars at either end. Traffic was not stopped, but flowed along slowly in front of the school. Then along the road came some beat up car driving quickly, and the driver just decided to swing into the other lane to pass all these slow movers, despite the humvees and oncoming traffic. A few emphatic hand gestures and a good view of some rifle barrels caused him to change his mind, and he merged into line. I just couldn’t figure out what that guy was thinking.
Soon enough we had a pretty good crowd of kids. We told them for a while that we didn’t have any money, water, sunglasses, or food for them. Then we started handing out Hot Wheels and candy.
There was a barely controlled riot.
Well, that is not entirely true. We made a point of giving the little girls bags first. They were a bit unsure, and the boys tried to elbow them to the back of the crowd, but we could reach over them to make sure the girls got something. The girls were very nice, and very discreetly went off to check out their loot.
Once the girls were all taken care of, we gave out stuff to everybody else. The boys were not as polite, with a lot of pushing and shoving. Once they had something, they immediately asked for more. After all the bags were gone, they again started asking for water, money, food, etc.
After things had died down again, one little girl walked up to us, and said in excellent English, “Thank you very much.” Which was very cool.
The Iraqis insist on having food at these events, and this was no exception. The fare tends to feature roast chicken, roast lamb, falafel, tomatoes, cucumbers, and lots of flat bread. Everything is wrapped up in flat bread, much like a burrito. It is also bad manners to decline more, so I had to eat two giant lamb burritos, and only escaped when I took an armful of food out to the Marines.
We returned to camp to find seven visiting Marines ready to go to Babylon. The Special Forces guys decided they wanted to go, too, so we had three cars loaded up in no time.
This trip to Babylon was even better. Previously, we had visited as part of a security detail for a two star general. There were a lot of people involved, and we went according to the general’s schedule. This time there were just fifteen of us out there. Just fifteen people with all of Ancient Babylon to ourselves. To put this in perspective, imagine having all of the Pyramids or The Smithsonian to yourself, but with NOTHING off limits. At one point, the groundskeepers were encouraging us to get up on the mounds of ancient bricks because it made for a better picture. The best analogy I can come up with is,
“Hey, why don’t you go sit in the Amenhotep’s Throne! What a picture!”
or
“Instead of a picture next to The Wright Flyer, how about a picture IN The Wright Flyer?”
We didn’t climb on anything as the very idea was shocking to our American Tourist sensibilities.
We started again at Saddam’s Palace, and roamed ALL over it. I found Saddam’s bedroom, which takes up most of the back half of the third floor. Excellent view of the river, but I was surprised that it had no bathroom. You have to walk all the way down the hallway, which is probably not a big deal when there are no Mongols hopped up on Red Bull. We found the kitchens, the rooftop terraces, and a room that was used as sort of a throne room for receptions. The guides told us that Saddam had anyone who worked on the place killed after its completion, so the work could never be duplicated. Somewhat apocryphal, but delightfully ghoulish for the tourists.
We wandered out to where we found the empty pool. Levi and I looked at each other, and raced to find the pool equipment room. Unfortunately, someone had already stolen the filters. All around the pool area (in fact, all over the outside of the palace) are large bas relief carvings of Saddam in various poses and activities. These things are huge, measuring probably twenty feet long and ten feet tall. Levi asked if we could have one, and the guards said sure. Levi was thunderstruck, and asked if they were serious. They said that if he could get it down and haul it away, we were welcome to it and good riddance. They hated Saddam.
Levi thought for a minute, and said, “Um…we will be back next week.”It will never happen because even if we were to somehow get a probably one ton stone slab off the side of this palace, we have no way to get it away from there, and even less of a chance getting it back through customs.
We went off to the ruins and the palace, and spent a lot of time wandering around down in the catacombs and piles of bricks. I was stunned by the amazing access we were given. They showed us ancient clay tablets with the cuneiform writing pressed in. We saw the pieces of a three thousand year old water jug being reconstructed. We wandered around the ancient dwellings and streets.We finally ran out of daylight, and headed back to the humvees.And in case you thought I was joking about the gift shop:
While we were loading up, one of the guides brought out his uncle (everybody in Iraq seems to have plenty of cousins, nephews, and nieces readily at hand) who had been injured in a car wreck a while ago. His arm was hurting, and he was hoping we could help him. The medic gave him a handful of Fiesta Sized Motrins (800mg or so), which was the best we could do. We handed out the last of our water, and went back to camp.
We finished the evening with skit night. Each car’s crew put on a skit. The rules on skits are no holds barred, nothing personal, and you won’t pay tomorrow. The team sergeant and one of the gunners got a pretty good roasting, as did the Captain. A good time was had by all.