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Before Spring Break started, my ninny self was at war with my brave soul over driving into DC to visit sights with the kids. Everyone around here tells me, “Drive to the Springfield station and take the Metro.” We did take the Metro on the 4th of July and with the cousins at Christmas, but the thought of going alone with 4 kids and one of them not getting on or off the train was too much for me worry about. So, my brave soul declared that I had driven in a country where they drive on the left, I had driven in countries where I couldn’t read the street signs. I certainly could drive into DC. I researched to find parking garages available and printed out my google map. Monday morning we set forth. I made good time driving to the city because I was able to take the HOV (High Occupancy Vehicle) lane. I’ve had a HOV for years and just never knew it. I managed to cross the Potomac safely and then promptly missed my turn. The problem with following a google map printout is that if you do something wrong, you’re out of luck. There are no directions on how to get back to where I had been previously. So began our DC scenic tour. The advantage with this tour is that you see the Capitol from all sides. I’d drive around awhile, take a few turns and then “Look! There’s the Capitol!” I’d drive around some more, take a few turns and then “Look! There’s the Capitol” I’d drive around again, take a few turns and then “Look! There’s the Capitol” The kids soon lost interest and I soon lost all concept of NE, NW, SE, and SW. Somehow I eventually managed to find the parking garage (car park) (Just for you Juliet) and I let out a yell of triumph until I read the sign that said it was for monthly parking only. No worries, I had written down the location of another one. It also said monthly parking only. At this point I started to pray. Thankfully, a few blocks down, I found a daily parking garage and pulled in with a sigh of relief and a prayer of thanks. We had an enjoyable time at the Smithsonian museum of Natural History looking at dinosaur bones, stuffed mammals, and the hope diamond. I made the drive home without any mistakes and went to bed feeling quite confident. So, I woke up thinking…I’ve driven to the Smithsonian, I can drive to the zoo. Once again I had my google map and once again I started out at the tail end of morning traffic. I should have turned around when I saw I95 at a standstill. There had been an accident two exits north and everything was backed up. I’ll take the alternate route, I decided. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one to consider that option. It took me twice as long to get into DC and when I finally crossed the Potomac, I promptly took a wrong turn at the Lincoln Memorial. We then got to see the Washington Monument from all sides. It is inevitable that I have to make the wrong turn several times until I can convince myself that it is the wrong turn. Connecticut Ave just ended and I was on 17th street. I didn’t want to be on 17th street, the zoo is on Connecticut Ave. “I’ll make 4 rights and Connecticut Ave will not stop at the statue of the guy on the horse,” I said. As Connecticut Ave ended again and I was once again driving down 17th street, my brain finally worked out that I was going the wrong way. If I am at 1000 Connecticut and I need to go to 3000 Connecticut, it might be best to drive in the other direction. I arrived at the zoo two hours after I had started out. The drive was only twice as long as it should have been. Parking at the zoo is extremely limited and they warn you that if you don’t arrive early enough, you won’t get a spot. I drove past several lots that were full and came upon a lot with available spaces. There was a woman about 9 cars ahead of me arguing with the attendant. He got mad at her and sent her and the next 5 cars away. He then listened to something on his walkie talkie and then let the car two ahead of me drive in the lot. At this point, he was busy talking on the walkie talkie and the guy ahead of me and I decided it was best not to make eye contact and drive ahead and hope for the best. We got a spot. The kids liked the Amazonia building, the gorillas climbing on the cables strung over the zoo, and the panda. I took one wrong turn on the way home, but we once again arrived home safely. Tomorrow we are going to attempt the Cherry Blossom Festival. I am quite certain that at some point tomorrow I will declare, “Hey Look! There’s the Capitol!”

Now that I’ve moved from FOB Diamondback to FOB Marez, I have to reestablish my daily and weekly routines. This first item I addressed was my running routes. On Friday, I ran a loop around Marez and measured it to be approximately 3.5 miles. Saturday’s route was basically a sideways figure-8 (or infinity) through the FOB, which was about 5 miles. Then yesterday, I ran a figure-8 that measured at 5.2 miles. I’ve mapped out another route that looks to be about 10 miles. I’ll probably run it next Saturday. I think I like running here on Marez better than on Diamondback. Because of the airfield, Diamondback was completely flat. While I’m not a good hill runner, the small hills here on Marez offer a nice change of pace.

The other routine item I had to consider is the barber shop. I visit the barber once a fortnight, usually Saturday afternoon. Coming out of the Marez DFAC yesterday, I noticed a small hajji shop in the parking lot across the street. In the Middle East, Hajji is an honorific for a Muslim that has completed the pilgrimage to Mecca. The American troops have adopted the term as their own and use it to describe anything from the Middle East. It is used as both a noun and an adjective. So all of the small shops on the FOBs run by non-US personnel are referred to as hajji shops.

Pop’s and Omar’s shop is a mini-mall in one room. You can see from the sign all of their different offerings. The jewelry is sold by weight. So if you want to buy a gold necklace, they weigh the necklace and calculate the price based on the value of gold for that day. The tailor makes custom suits. I’m not sure when I would have an opportunity to wear a suit, so I guess I’ll hold off on getting one made. The whole shop feels almost as if it could have come from Itaewon, the tourist trap area in Seoul, South Korea. I was able to get a reasonably good haircut. However, it is much more expensive than the barber on FOB Diamondback. I had to pay $5, whereas on Diamondback I only paid $3! Also, it doesn’t come with the scalp massage they give at Diamondback. Life is rough!

I’ve returned home to Mosul and FOB Diamondback. My coffee cup really missed me while I was gone. I ended up spending one and a half weeks in Tikrit at COB Speicher (pronounced Spiker). Part of the reality of deployed life is that you learn to tune things out. Mugs will tell you that I already have an innate ability to ignore sounds that don’t interest me. I grew up in a house where the TV was on 24 hours a day, so I learned to block out noise without much thought. It helps here in Iraq to ignore the various booms and bangs that are a routine part of our daily lives.

Anyway, while I was still in Tikrit last week, I was sitting in the conference room of the GRN headquarters downloading my email. For some reason, I noticed a peculiar noise coming from outside. After a couple of minutes I realized it was the sound of a lawnmower. Inside the USACE GRN compound in COB Speicher, there are a couple plots of grass. Here’s a shot of the contractor mowing the grass in the desert!

Last week, while recovering an Army vehicle in Iraq, Schweigart, 22, was shot by a high-powered rifle and had a bullet pass through his arm and chest. The bullet went through his nipple and into his Bible. Hitting the Bible may have saved his life.

I just read this article in yesterday’s Mideast issue of the Stars and Stripes. The article was written by John Anderson, a reporter for the Wellsville (N.Y.) Daily Reporter. You can read the full article at the Wellsville Daily Reporter.

PFC Schweigart states that he received the Bible in bootcamp and didn’t want to go into combat without it. The bullet, fired by a sniper while Schweigart was recovering another vehicle, went through his left arm, into his side, out his chest and into the Bible. If the Bible had not stopped the bullet, it could have hit the inside of his Interceptor Body Armor (IBA) and then ricocheted back into his chest again. That by itself is pretty amazing. However, what I find even more amazing is his reaction immediately after being shot. Here’s what he had to say about it:

My Lt. Colonel was standing next to me and asked me if I needed anything. I said yea, I need my Bible. He reached in my pocket and saw it, and there was the bullet.

He’s laying there after being shot by a sniper and asks for his Bible.

Luckily Mugs bought me a Bible that fits in my cargo pocket!