3 Baghdad Shorts

Working as a journalist in Baghdad is always entertaining. Working as a military journalist in Baghdad with an area to cover consisting of almost 38,000 troops is damn entertaining. I’ll convey my entertainment through three short anecdotes. Everything good comes in 3’s.

Working with Robert Duvall:

Spc. Fardette and myself were out on an explosive ordinance disposal (EOD) mission a few weeks ago. As we pulled to a halt and cordoned off a suspected improvised explosive device (IED), Iraqi children were everywhere. The word got translated to the Iraqis that there might be an IED around; the children were shooed away down the street. 

Since we were still inside our mine-resistant ambush-protected (MR

AP) vehicle I couldn’t get any good photos of the hundreds of kids being directed away from our cordon, so I hopped up on some gear inside the MRAP. 

As I proceeded to shoot the deluge of kids, I heard a quick hissing sound and before I could ascertain what was going on the oxygen was ripped from my lungs. White smoke enveloped me and the Soldier I was next to started coughing profusely and yellin

g to me something about a fire extinguisher. The medic in the MRAP bolted faster than I had seen her move all day into the turret s

urprising the hell out of the M-249 Squad Automatic Weapon (SAW) gunner. Everybody was gasping for air because the fire extinguisher I kicked on with my foot sucked up all the oxygen in the behemoth MRAP. Everybody except Fardette.

Fardette, on the other hand, had enough air to scream at me, “Relax! It’s just a flare! It’s just a flare!” 

If I had a yellow cavalry scarf, I’d gift it to him.

Spc. Fardette (left) enjoys the comfort of being outside of the MRAP while it airs out a bit.

The pen is mightier than the picture?

I was on patrol with a troop of cav scouts from the 3rd Brigade Combat Team (BCT), 82nd Airborne “Panthers” in Shorjah Market, one of the liveliest and largest open-air markets in Iraq. If anyone has read the “Washington Post” or something similar in the past month, then ‘yes’ this troop was the same one that was on the front page for “drinking in a nightclub in the Abu Nawas.” Complete horse shit, I was there, but that’s another story. Walking down this market was a visual feast for my camera. I was running up in between the vehicles shooting everything I could. Getting ahead of the patrol to shoot them coming at me, shooting all the vendors and the rich colors of fabrics and goods on sale - it was heart-pounding work with all my gear on, but worth it.

At one point, I passed an Iraqi Policeman (IP) and he said something like this, “Phennoo?” And held out his hand. I had no time to converse with him and really didn’t want to try to understand why he was asking me for a pen in the middle of this market where you can get anything from a live goat to an astronomically expensive Persian rug. So I quickly pulled a pen from my Army Combat Uniform (ACU) and put it in the IP’s hand. He gave me a quizzical look as I smiled and trotted away.

I was replaying the event in my head when I was about 50 meters from him and realized that he probably didn’t want a pen. He wanted a photo. Oh well, he was ugly anyway.

This is the historic Shorja Market. This picture is one of my favorites 

from that day, even though this 82nd Soldier hated to have his picture 

taken...I prevailed.

St. Patty’s Day with the CG

It was just after chow and I went to pick up my laundry from the nice Filipino ladies that Kellogg, Brown & Root, Inc. (KBR) pay to do our unmentionables. They have a list of Tagalog phrases outside the door so you can conv

erse with them in their native tongue. I try to give them a laugh by butchering their language when I see them. I don’t do this on purpose, it just happens. I waited for someone to leave so I could fill the three-person quota inside the small hut and repeated the phrase for ‘good afternoon’ over and over in my head. 

As I entered, I didn’t pay attention to the two Soldiers on either side of me and when into my pre-planned greeting.

“Magandang hapon!” I shouted with a self-satisfying grin on my face. The ladies laughed and repeated it correctly to me. They handed me the paperwork and everyone was silent again. Strange, I thought, normally everyone’s really chatty.

“Hey, happy St. Patty’s Day, ladies!” I had just remembered it was March 17. “

What are you girls doing tonight? Drinking a little beer?” I winked as I said this. I thought it was damn clever and wanted to see if the other Soldiers were getting a laugh out of this. I turned to the Soldier on my right and was staring at two big stars on his chest. I thought, that kinda looks like the commanding general (CG) for Multi-National Division - B

aghdad, our boss. Hmm, his name is the same too. My smile faded.

“‘Cause that’s what I’d be doing if I were in the States right now!” I said making a quick recovery.

Luckily, he has a good sense of humor and laughed it off explaining to the ladies that we are not allowed to drink while in Iraq. 

They countered and said, “Is root beer, OK?” I think I might visit the Philippines sometime.

These are snapshots of what it’s like over here. Not all doom and gloom, well most of the time.

This is one of the happiest pictures I have so far. Iraqis love to dance and they love the camera. 

What's our secret?

It's been a rough ride getting into Baghdad and moving all of our hundreds of boxes and bags.  Coming from Dix to Germany to Kuwait to Iraq has really taken a toll on all the Soldiers.  Luckily, we have been growing moustaches.  These aren't normal Tom Selleck or Ron Jeremy 'staches.  These are power wisps o' hair.  

Like Samson, we derive our incredible power and tireless energies from these incredibly sexy caterpillars inching along the top of our lips.  We could never have been able to move these hundreds of boxes more than a half-dozen times if it weren't for the hairy prowess of our newfound friends.

Yes, all the 211th MPAD males have succumb to the mystical calling of this seductive generator of power and suaveness.   Look out world.  Stand aside Frank Zappa and Salvador Dali.  We have come to claim our title of "head honcho big cheese supremo PAO gurus with a little 'stache on top" here in Baghdad.  Even Jason Giambi would vote for us, so don't forget to scroll down and cast your poll vote.

Feature writing

We had to do some MOS training the other week. The training was used to hone our skills as writers or broadcasters. The task for the writers was to pick a Soldier and do a feature on that Soldier. I picked my roommate, Sgt. Joshua Risner, who is my idol and the wind beneath my wings. Without further ado...

Tours provide inspiration for Soldier-musician
Story by Staff Sgt. Mark C. Burrell
After a long, hot day in the deserts of Northern Iraq, music drifts into the air. An upbeat guitar tempo is accompanied by a chorus of cheers, shouts and jubilation. A sea of about 2,500 servicemembers crowds the stage at the Mosul Airfield during a USO tour in July, 2003. This crowd isn’t cheering for a famous band, it’s cheering for one of its own. It’s cheering for Sgt. Joshua M. Risner who jumped at the chance to showcase his talents.
“The USO tour band had a set break and I jumped right on up there,” said Risner, a public affairs NCO, now attached to the 211th Mobile Public Affairs Detachment, from Bryan, Texas. “I felt a connection to everybody out there in the crowd.”
Although Risner prefers small venues because they’re more personal, he plays anywhere and to anybody who will listen. After playing guitar or almost 14 and a half years, entertaining comes naturally to him.
Throughout Risner’s musical career he has gleaned inspiration from many sources. He is from Tennessee, near Nashville, the home of some of the country’s biggest musical influences. In his younger years, Risner was influenced by popular culture through TV.
“I watched MTV and wanted to be Slash from Guns N’ Roses,” he said in a thick Tennessee drawl. “He was the essence of cool.”
One of Risner’s largest sources of inspiration is the Photos by 1st Sgt. Anthony J. Martinez army. “The army is a catalyst for me,” he explained. “The more uncomfortable I am; the more creativity is sparked.” In 2009, there should be plenty of opportunities for the musician as he prepares to deploy for the second time to Iraq in 2009.
His main goal while deployed is to successfully accomplish his mission and take care of his Soldiers. In his downtime, Risner said, “I plan on creating a studio and continuing to make music while deployed.”
Thriving on chaos and drawing from his life experiences makes Risner a unique Soldier-musician. Still, he is realistic and doesn’t have visions of grandeur. “I don’t care about being famous or rich, I just want to be able to quit my day job and make a living off of my music,” said Risner with a toothy grin. Being a professional musician in the military isn’t always easy, but doing something that you love is priceless.

This is team one at Fort Dix, New Jersey. Although we are supposed to look like killers and have all this Hooah gear on, some forgot to take those cool little bright-red blank adapters off the end of our rifles. Kill.

In this unit, you have two choices:

"You either surf or you fight."
"Are you crazy God damnit? Don't you think its a little risky for some R&R?"
"If I say its safe to surf this beach Captain, then its safe to surf this beach. I mean I'm not afraid to surf this place, I'll surf this whole fucking place! Charlie don't surf!"

Texas Turkey Day

Being away from home is sometimes a difficult time for Soldiers. Luckily, this year we were able to spend it with the Delgado family. They were downright nice enough to invite six Soldiers from the 211th to spend a day with them watching football and grubbing on a ton of good food. Good 'ole southern hospitality. I love Texas.

Though I was in Texas, my dad was very worried that I wouldn't get any BBQ on Thanksgiving here. I want to put all worries to rest and let people know that I did in fact, get some BBQ brisket. Yum yum. I love Texas.

We also watched the Cowboys (both on TV and in the streets), so it was an excellent holiday. Later that evening, we headed out to Northgate on the Texas A&M campus to find the lonely single women crying into their beers. I love Texas.

The EZist place in Texas

I've learned to appreciate the little things. Clean towels, an aroma of bleach in the air, empty trash bins, and fresh sheets are among the best things in life. All these things I learn from Spc. Alperin. Staying at the EZ motel in Texas awaiting our trip to the sandbox has given me great respect for the little things. Although I sometimes overlook the little things, I am constantly reminded every day about the simplicity that comes with living in a motel.

"I can't wait to get home. Aren't you excited, sergeant?"

Sometimes I'm not, but I am overjoyed with the fact that some of us can help the others enjoy the little things. These little things make life EZ.