UPDATE: I have my fridge! Got it from a departing infantryman today. One of the benefits of doing those 6-question post-deployment physicals is the option to throw in question #7: “Do you have any stuff that you want to get rid of?” Woo hoo! Got a nice, mid-sized Euro-Cool model.

So I have been on Al Asad Marine Airbase since Wednesday 12 March. When we drove back from the airfield that afternoon, SFC Langer gave me the grand tour. For security purposes, I will not describe locations in any detail, but I would like to give you some idea of what an Army base in Iraq looks like.

The first thing I noted was the massive amount of activity going on here. The populated part of the base is divided into sectors. In some of these, you can clearly see what is going on (machinery constructing and fixing things) and in others all that can be seen is a big wall, sometimes of cement barricades, sometimes a sort of mesh material with mounds of dirt behind it. These areas usually have an opening somewhere, and it tends to be heavily guarded, usually by Marines in their slightly orange uniforms, holding their M-16s. The combination of heavy machinery, airplanes, helicopters, old cement/brick buildings (often with the original Iraqi signs still on them), and the general dull, dusty tan greyness of everything makes for a very industrial-park feel to the place. It is not especially pretty (though there are exceptions to this). Every so often, one can see a pyramid-shaped Iraqi bunker. The rumor is that these were originally built by France, who guaranteed these could withstand everyone’s bombs except the Americans’.

We drove by the Troop Medical Clinic, where I will be working, and I met my medics, whom I will introduce to you in detail over the next month or so. They are a great group of young, hard-working soldiers, who warmly greeted me on my arrival. We also drove by the all-important DFAC (Dining FACility), and past the stadium, where some Iraqi citizens have set up small “hadji shops” where soldiers can buy Iraqi items to send home (jewelry, fancy boxes, old Saddam coins and paper money) plus DVDs/CDs, etc. The large number of Iraqi nationals (as well as Lebanese, Turks, Ugandans and others) initially surprised me when I got to the middle east, but these folks are fairly well “scrubbed” to ensure that they are “good guys,” the best evidence of which is the lack of suicide bombings, terrorist attacks on military bases perpetrated by insiders. There have been a few, though, mostly in Baghdad. More to follow on this topic.

We drove by the Gym and the PX, and then to the little “subdivision” which would be my home for the next 6 months. These are little “canister” units (it would be over-reaching to call them “trailers,” which are like mansion in comparison to the cans) where some of the lucky soldiers are housed (the unlucky ones live in tents). Each soldier gets his/her own can, each of which is about 12 x 18 feet (I’m guessing), with a personal air conditioner/heater, AFN satellite reception (you supply the TV, though most have a “legacy” television which has been handed down or sold from soldier to soldier as one leaves and another moves in), and an blue LAN-line internet connection, which is obtained by signing up with a company called OIFnet, at a cost of $70 to 130 per month, depending upon usage. This is said to be broadband, but is in reality rather slower than a good dial-up connection. (I hope that you can sense the bitterness in my voice as I tell you this.) During peak hours (4PM to midnight, when it is daylight in most of America), the connection is excruciatingly slow and often unusable. This is part of the reason why I have had such a hard time getting pictures up for you.

Having said that, I think I have teased you enough with the prospect of photos, so here are a few, to give you a small window into life on Al Asad.

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This is the view down the row of cans in which I live. Mine is the unit on the near right (though that is not my bike—still trying to obtain one of those). Note that each unit has a step, a door, and a front window. Nice white vinyl siding too!

My can, closer-up, with the door opened.

The latrine which is shared by the men in my area. Has actual plumbing, and hot and cold water. By “hot” and “cold” I mean that exactly. There does not seem to be any way to consistently obtain warm water while showering—either I am scalding or freezing. This is one of the many aspects of my Iraq existence that reminds me sweetly of home…

I have spared you a picture of the toilets here (you’re welcome), but it is worth noting that the brilliant navy engineer who designed them must have been a dapper little 4 foot 3 fellow, as no normal-sized human can actually sit in the stalls without his elbows touching the walls on both sides. Sadly, this is not hyperbole. You can imagine that this makes a certain part of the experience rather challenging.

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A view from outside of my little subdivision. To the left is the latrine. In the middle you can see the corner of one of the trailers. The big cement barricades are present in between every square grouping of trailers, and are designed to protect the inhabitants from the effects of any mortar attacks. It does feel pretty secure in here.

There are stacks of water bottles like this about every 50 yards in Iraq (as there were in Kuwait). These generic bottles at Al Asad actually have better tasting water than the Dasani bottles in Kuwait. Very crisp and pure tasting. This water is used for everything except showers and washing hands—we are even required to pour it on our toothbrushes, in deference to the many signs in the bathrooms warning that the tap water is non-potable. In my past two weeks, I have never once heard the word “potable” pronounced correctly.

This “lake” outside of our compound was not present when I got here, but has persisted since the heavy rains on the first night. I may go water skiing. Note the two dots in the sky there—these are some of the ever-present aircraft on post. Hard to take a pic of the sky and not have a couple of those in there somewhere.

Most of the signs are in English with Arabic “subtitles.”

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There are a lot of structures on the base which look like this. I do not know what they are, but will tell you if I found out (and if I am allowed).

The fabulous entryway to my upper-scale subdivision. Note that there is an actual living plant in this picture, something of a rarity on bases here. That white sign states proudly the name of our lovely neighborhood “Centurion Can City.”

And you didn’t believe me…

We Centurion Can City dwellers are a proud folk, with a long tradition dating back to 2007. I’m thinking of running for mayor of our historic burg.

Inside my personal can. Take note that I am standing at the opposite end of the room, in the doorway, as I take this picture. That comforter was gift given to me just today by our Optometrist, CPT Baker. Thanks!

The other side of my room, with My Precious sitting up on the microwave, and my lovely bare-plywood cupboards exposed.

And the corner near the door. I scored the best TV in the cans from my predecessor, MAJ Davis.

These are a few of my favorite things…

So there you have it, in excruciating detail. If you haven’t bailed out by now, I’m betting that your last name is probably “Rupard.” (And even then…)

These pix may completely mess up the layout of my blog; we shall see. If not, more to come soon—I’ll get some pix of the clinic and “safe” pix of the base up over the upcoming week. All in all, my complaints are mostly in jest. I am in a reasonably safe location (safer, methinks, than some big cities in the US), and have hot water, a clean dusty, well-lighted place in which to stay, and some internet access, which, all moaning aside, is infinitely better than none. And some American-cum-Saudi caffeinated beverages. Working on a fridge (can be gotten cheaply or even for free from departing soldiers, so don’t send me one, Melissa!), and a vacuum (ditto) and I’ll be pretty well set up.

Tomorrow: more on the clinic. See ya!

Edit: I have voluntarily removed three pictures above on the request (but not the demand) of my Commanding Officer, who is very vigilant about OPSEC (OPerational SECurity), and rightly so. After much vigilant searching (discussions with JAG, registering my blog with the Army, etc), I have come to the conclusion that it is very hard to know what is allowed on a blog and what is not allowed. If I can get more specifics on this, I may be able to re-up some of those pictures, but of course, the safety of the troops is the paramount issue.

–EJR