Memoirs of an Outlaw: Life in the Sandbox

Chapter 35: Road Trip

Shortly after the devastating loss of so many of our fellow Outlaws, our company was taken off the road for a brief period of time to recoup. The death count had finally begun to wear on our psyche, and I was beginning to see cracks in some individuals. So the brief rest was a good thing. In fact, during that week of rest, the platoons were each given a two-day stay over at Camp Fallujah.

To some this wasn’t much, but to those of us who had been doing the daily grind day in and day out, those two days seemed like a stay at Disney World. Camp Fallujah was no resort, but it did have quite a few amenities that we had very little exposure to over in Camp Baharia. For one thing, we were allowed to shack up in air-conditioned buildings, something that was unheard of over at Baharia. On top of that, we were able to do whatever we wanted over in the camp, so long as we ensured we were back in time for fire watch. Most of us hit up the game room or the PX to stock up on more snacks and goodies. Everyone made sure to make a stop at the chow hall. The chow hall at Camp Fallujah was like a four-star restaurant compared to the chow tent we had at Baharia. It was open nearly all day long, they served hot, fresh meals, and we could drink all the soda we wanted. And last but not least, there was the pool, a hidden oasis in the middle of the desert that was a true treat. It was hard enough to get a shower, let alone swim in a pool.

Those two days our platoon spent there were some of the most relaxing and carefree times I had in Iraq. Gone were the everyday worries of dying. All I could think about was how full my stomach was and how nice it was there. But that all soon came to an end. After about a week off the patrols, our company was tasked with a new mission.

Captain Shepard gathered us around one day and informed us we were being tasked with assisting the Army down in Iskandariyah, a town about fifty miles south of Baghdad. A couple days prior, the Army base in Iskandariyah had been hit by mortars. Apparently, this attack set a good portion of the hooches in the compound on fire. As if that weren’t bad enough, most of those hooches contained equipment and other gear that was destroyed by the fire. So our presence was requested to relieve them of their duties while they regrouped and got themselves back in working order. Our week of rest and relaxation had come to an end. It was time to get back to work.

After receiving word that we would be going, everyone dispersed to get ready for the trip. From what we understood, we would be there anywhere from two weeks to a month. So pretty much everything we had in our hooch needed to come with us. I went back to my hooch and gathered up all the essentials: clothing, cammies, gear, snacks, and cigs. I did my best at packing it all into my rucksack and the carry-on bag that we were allowed to bring with us. Once I was done packing, I hauled everything over to my vehicle and rigged it up to the outside of it. After I was done, I went around to help out some of the other guys. I figured the faster we got packed up, the faster we could get down there. I absolutely hated sitting around. But, as usual, once we were all packed up and ready to go, we had to sit around and wait until we received permission to leave.

When the word finally came that we needed to head out, it was pitch black except for a little bit of illumination from some of the stars in the nighttime sky. Everyone went to his respective vehicle, did final vehicle and gear inspections, and then mounted up. The vehicles fired up their engines, and you could hear a loud rumble permeate the air. The vehicle commanders got the LAVs into a tactical column near the base entrance, and we waited for the final word from Captain Shepard to move out.

In the meantime, we were instructed that the drive down to Iskandariyah was to be in blackout conditions, which meant that no visible light was permitted from the vehicles. So all the vehicles flipped on their infrared lights, and when I donned my night vision goggles, I could see a column of lights behind me. Captain Shepard emerged from the COC and lowered himself into his turret. He jumped on the company communications frequency and gave the word to move out. One by one, each vehicle made its way out of the base and began the trek down to Iskandariyah.

Our journey down to the town was uneventful. For miles on each side of the road, all I could see was the vast, barren desert intermingled with a couple of shacks here and there. A few cars would come zooming up to the column, see us, have multiple guns aimed at them, and then zoom past in a hurry. But aside from that, it was a very boring ride.

Fifty miles doesn’t seem like much to the casual driver, but when you’re traveling that far in a convoy of LAVs, it can take forever. To begin with, the speed at which our convoy was traveling varied between twenty to forty miles an hour. This was because we had to ensure our speed was not constant, or anyone watching us could time us and hit the convoy with a well-placed IED. In addition to the variation in speed, we also had to stop every once in a while to do maintenance checks on the vehicles to ensure they were operating smoothly. At these stops, all the scouts would get out and set up a defensive perimeter, the drivers would do a quick maintenance check, and the rest of the Marines would stretch their legs, take a piss on the side of the road, or grab a quick bite to eat. So the trip took several hours—several long, boring hours. If it weren’t for the fact that I was able to switch out with some of the other scouts standing up in the scout hatch, my knees would have been shot and so would theirs.

After a few hours of driving, I knew we were getting closer because the terrain was changing. There seemed to be a bit more vegetation in the area, and more people were out on the streets. And that was when I saw them—three huge smoke towers sticking up two or three hundred feet in the air, belching out nasty, black smoke. They were monstrous. I thought to myself how it must suck to live near that thing. Not only did they give insurgents a target to drop mortars on, but the smoke belching out of their stacks didn’t look too healthy. Fortunately, I thought, we wouldn’t be anywhere near there.

As we continued to drive, I noticed a few Iraqi soldiers in the street guarding various intersections. It was one of the very few times I actually saw some of these guys doing something other than training. The towers continued to grow as we approached them, but it wasn’t until we were passing through another checkpoint that it dawned on me that those towers were our final destination. Just our friggin' luck.

Thirty minutes or so passed by, and we finally pulled up to our new home, a giant oil power plant that provided over sixty percent of Iraq’s electricity needs. All around, soldiers were moseying about, looking carefree as they walked to and fro. Some of them weren’t even walking around with their flak and weapon. What the hell was going on around here? Did they not realize this was a war zone? The situation was starting to piss me off, and it would only get worse.

We rolled up to a giant hangar bay and pulled to a halt. This was where we were staying for the next few weeks. Inside was filled with hundreds of cots, our new beds, and that was about it. At least it was somewhat cool in there. The last thing we wanted was to be stuck in a musty, humid hangar with no ventilation.

We began to unload our gear and settle into our new home. I threw what I had brought with me underneath my cot, grabbed my flak and rifle, and stepped outside the hangar to get a good look at our new surroundings. About a quarter of a mile to the right of us was the internet center. Slightly behind us was a massive chow hall. And smack dab in the middle of the whole compound were the three giant smoke stacks that just so happened to be only a few hundred feet from our hangar. No wonder why the Army had lost a bunch of gear. They had picked a giant friggin' target as a base.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, I began to notice that the air had a weird odor to it. After further investigation, I figured out that the odor was coming from the power plant itself. Iraq does not have the same stringent environmental rules that we do, so I’m pretty sure that however they were burning the oil to generate electricity was probably not good for anyone living around the plant. After a couple of weeks into our stay there, my lungs felt as if they were coated with something, and it wasn’t until several months after we were back stateside that I could breathe without hacking up a lung.

Iskandariyah, in my eyes, sucked, and all I wanted was for the Army to get its act together and get up and running so we could get back to our life in Baharia. By the end of the day, Fallujah looked like paradise.