Mud Slingers Paradise

Well I got my truck back the other day. It spent a couple of day’s in the shop getting a new radiator and the frame that holds it mended. I had a little run in with a light post that was bent down underneath my bumper. I was going through a Contractors camp (which is like squatter shacks) looking for someone and BANG. No one went on the offensive against me for wrecking my truck that way. The “dark side” as the Iraqi side is called (or Hazmat side) is shattered. That and National Maintenance (Anham) puts the very same truck that has been hit by IED’s back together.

Last week I was having some adventures in that little truck. I found myself stuck in the glue like mud twice. Both times I managed to get myself out of it. Both times it was over in the junk yard. One well after dark. I was over there digging out some MRE’s that I know about so we could get a Local National convoy team fed. I had pulled through Lobo Gate with a relatively clean truck an hour before and going back through it was covered in mud. The guards were laughing shaking their heads. “It’s a mud slingers paradise”, I told them. There was an inch of mud sticking out all the way around the sides of my boots. Which, was about an inch thick with mud on the bottom.

4X4 nuts would be in heaven…if it wasn’t for the Unexploded Ordinance (UXO) all over. Yep, the Taji Mud Pitts.

Now I know about anyone reading this is thinking of mud slinging politics…something I had to put up with when I was home on leave. Allot of people are thinking the Democrats are going to pull us out of here (Iraq). LOL, I don’t think so.

It was sickening seeing all of the mud slinging going on with the election when I was on leave.

Now, back to Iraq Proper. As I mentioned before, we are working hard on putting the Escort mission over onto the Iraqi Army. It turns out that one of the Escorts they gave us to train can’t drive. He has grey hair, if it helps you. He was poor, not able to afford a car and more than likely never had to drive. So, I told one of my guys who is always willing to help someone to make sure he learned to drive. The Iraqis told us they taught him…over night. Just one of many little things that we work through day to day. I admit when I first heard it I laughed, not because he couldn’t drive. But, because it’s imperative to an Escort and well, it’s just like Iraq for some funny little something to pop up.

All week we’ve been training some new guards. They’re mostly young, we wonder if some can read. One is tall, lanky, dark skinned and obviously low on the pecking order in the tribe. Yesterday I found myself wondering if he was border line retarded. I imagine he has a family tree about like palm tree. He’s not particularly good. Down right goofy. But, I like him. He’s the under dog. He’s motivated, but, not catching on quick. I call him “Big Country” because I picture him as a Bedouin Goat Herder.

Another is short, quick in mind and body. He catches on fast, doesn’t seem to complain while all the others do, except for the tall, lanky one and one other…A slim, friendly, qiuet guy of a subtle character. Both are likable. Both seem to take Soldeiring seriously.

The others are like young punks and thugs. They complain, are noisy and demanding. I hope Big Country, societies reject, doesn’t try to find acceptance in going along with the crowd.

It’s taken me for ever to write this.

The Appalachianist