Of Fobbits and Soldiers...

It’s amazing how fast things can change. Less than 48hrs. ago we were housed at the “Central Press Information Center” enjoying all the comforts of the “International Zone” (IZ) formerly the “Green Zone.” We had bunk beds in a “media lounge,” internet access, even a big flat screen TV. Best yet, we had clean flush toilets. One night last week, after a tough day at the hospital, we enjoyed dinner with the “Fobbits” (definition below) at the Blue Star Café. At this local hang-out in the IZ, we ate a mixed grill, drank cold Turborg beer and discussed how to right all the wrongs of the world.
Today, we’re living in the storage hanger of a maintance building on a dirty industrial complex 30 mi. south of Baghdad. Pidgeons fly over head, splattering the soldiers and marines on their cots below (the Marines don’t seem to mind). This is FOB Iscan where soldiers from the 1-67, 4th Infantry Division trudge through the wasteland of a huge power plant, the smokestacks belching black soot. No TV, no internet, and you carry your own TP to the port-a-pots. Somehow, though, I feel more at home than I did in the IZ. At least I’m finally with the soldiers doing work I can see and understand. Until now I felt vaguely guilty living the life of a “Fobbit.” A “Fobbit” is someone who never gets away from base and has little idea what’s happening “out there.” The guards, civilian contractors, state department employees and all the misc. people who keep a modern army operating, but never see the “outside of the wire.” They live a sheltered, relatively comfortable life in a war zone. I can’t blame them for trying to make their own lives as comfortable as possible here, and I have appreciated their hospitality. For me, though, that life is somehow hard to enjoy when I know what life is like for the average soldier in Iraq. So I’ve been getting soft and living in shame until now.
The soldiers here in Iskandiriyah are out in to these mixed Sunni/Shiite towns trying to tamp down violence, support the local police forces, and bring a level of civility to this tortured area. Much of the population here worked in Saddam’s military complex, either with The Medina Division Repulican Guard or in the munition factories. As a result, the local populace are now largely unemployed and desperate.
Yesterday we went with A Company to the nearby Sunni town of Jur as Sakhr where this unit is simultaniously building a little patrol base and employing some of the locals in a painting project to improve their own town. With the little U.S. sub-station in the middle of downtown, they hope to provide an additional level of security; with the white paint a job, a sense of self respect. Still, the soldiers must be on the lookout for roadside IED’s and the Shiite run police force generally refuse to enter the town. This is life in Iraq: the constant, one step forward, two back (or vice versa) struggle that continues. I’m looking forward to exploring it more in the days to come.