Yesterday seemed like a typical day to begin with. I performed my normal webmaster duties, attended my normal "state of the site" meetings, and did all the wonderfully boring and bureaucratic things that have become the daily routine here in Baghdad. The work day ran later than usual, and for that, I’m thankful.
As we were getting ready to depart our AO (area of operations) about two hours later than normal, I got the word that the place where we live had taken incoming. This could really mean anything. Usually, it means that some insurgents have randomly fired mortars into the International Zone. These typically do little damage and are quickly cleaned up. Other than a loud boom or two, and perhaps a slight temporary detour from the normal path one walks, life goes on without any complications.
Yesterday, the situation was a little closer to home. Literally.
We found ourselves unable to return to our quarters. Without giving away any information that might be useful to mine enemies, I think it’s safe to say that had I returned home on time yesterday, I’d probably still be pretty shaken up as I write this blog entry. As it was, I couldn’t get to my living quarters until nearly midnight.
A near miss that doesn’t injure or kill you still makes you think a little bit. "What if" is what you think about. What if my living quarters had been about 50 feet that direction? What if I had been in the shower when that attack happened? What if that had hit my body? It’s somewhat sobering to sit there and listen to the big giant voice methodically listing which barracks areas are off limits and hearing your own among the number. It’s somewhat sobering having Marines in battle rattle tell you that you can’t go home just yet because there is UXO (unexploded ordanance) right next to where you live.
It’s nice to return to your bed later to find that you don’t have a big hole in your roof, and that you can still take a private shower and slip off into dreamland, where you’re never quite sure whether it will be sweet memories of life at home with your lovely wife or whether it will be tainted nightmares of being trapped in this boom town forever.
Life here isn’t exciting most days. Most days, it’s just like the movie Groundhog Day without the snow. Yesterday broke the routines and reminded me, and I’m sure others as well, that I am in a place where death is always only just around the corner. I am in a place where death rides the trajectory of a weapon held by a man who hates everything my life has been or will be. I am squarely in the crosshairs of those whose philosophy is submit or die. These desperate men see change coming and they are flailing about, drowning in the knowledge that their time of relevance and their power over others are both on the wane.
I will not submit. My way of life and my society, while sometimes poignantly flawed, are far superior to anything you can offer. My dreams are life-affirming and freedom loving. I am tolerant of those who do not kowtow to my way of thinking, except when you announce that you intend to murder me for being who I am. I am better than you because I do not seethe with blind, burning hatred. You are cancer and I am alpha interferon. You fear change and human progress while I embrace them. And I am still here, doing my job, wanting to harm no one but unwilling to sit idly by while you spread your philosophy of brutish evil by force, murder and hate filled teachings.