Under Attack

             I spent August 13th, 2003 in Baghdad, Iraq. I was stationed at the southern edge of the Baghdad International Airport compound. My unit, 1st Battalion, 4th Air Defense Artillery, was in charge of perimeter security for the airport. I had just spent another day struggling to get all of my work done without becoming yet another victim of the oppressive heat. It was the end of my day and I had nothing on my mind except food, cards, and rest, in that order.
             After choking down another unidentifiable army dinner, I went out the back door to the patio next to the pond for our nightly game of spades. We picked our teams and began playing our game, once again fighting the heat. Water vapor from the pond turned the whole area into an outdoor sauna. We bid our hands as sweat poured off our bodies. The cards quickly became sodden and difficult to manipulate due to the humid air. We had become accustomed to it and that evening was no different than any other. .
             A mortar dropped into the pond with a "sploosh" 50 yards from me and exploded. The booming detonation rolled through the ground at my feet and sent a spray of water 150 feet into the air like an Iraqi version of "Old Faithful".
             In a matter of seconds training took over and my friends and I were hustling inside to don our gear. All the drills that had seemed pointless and redundant at the time now suddenly made perfect sense. My body armor, equipment vest, and Kevlar helmet were on in a flash. Confusion and panic warred with discipline for control of my mind. As I loaded a magazine into my M-16 I realized that I was the first person ready. I ran out of the room and up the stairs to the 2nd floor to make sure that the female soldiers were gearing up as well.
             When I entered the females" room my order, "We"re under attack! Get your gear on!", was greeted with dumbfounded stares. At that point adrenaline and frustration got the better of me and I yelled "Get your f*%@ing gear on or your going home in a box!" What finally got them moving was the shock of hearing this statement from someone as mild-mannered as I.