Copyright 2003, Roadracing World Publishing, Inc.

The continuing adventures of an Army Captain we know, who will remain anonymous:

Hello to all from hot, hot, hot Iraq.

Today we only hit 109 degrees F.

Sorry I have not e-mailed anyone lately, for some reason the net has been soooo slow that by the time I am done downloading e-mail it is time to get off.

Much has happened since my last letter. We have started a works program for Iraqi civilians so they can earn pay and jump-start the economy while rebuilding the nation.

I work with a retired Iraqi General. We hire ex-military for jobs basically. Many many obstacles exists, for example: Language, customs, he still thinks he is a general and I am one of his captains, and the corrupt systems of the old regime which will take decades to rid. This general is the one I told ya’ll of several letters ago that was snide with my COL, and then my COL told him to pound sand. Well, now he works with me.

I think the main reason the Iraqi Army collapsed is due to the good ole boy system that exists with Iraqi officers. There are more generals than privates. He is always trying to grease my palms for extra help in areas that are kind of shady. I have already been offered a truck, house, bodyguards, yada, yada, yada. Then I have to tell him to pound sand every once in a while and he eats his crow and moves out. Perfect example — since the Iraqi Army dissolved the police have sucked up all the cars and equipment of the Army. The Veteran’s Affairs office wants the cars back, and if I help, the General will give me a car. Whoopeeeeee! Damned thing’ll probably blow up when I start it. I’ve seen Goodfellas.

Now language, well, it ain’t easy. I am picking up Arabic slowly. Most everything revolves around Allah, or God. When you talk of the future you must say “if God wills,” every time someone says tomorrow, in an hour, next week….. When someone sits you must say “may God sit at ease with you.”

You get the picture. And they are greeting happy, you shake or kiss everyone on the cheeks over and over and over. I feel like Clark Griswold on Christmas Vacation — kiss my ass, kiss his ass, kiss your ass, happy chanuka! But as a whole they love it when I try to speak in Arabic — so I entertain them.

Oh — the truly great thing is all the boot-licking that goes on. When you talk to them you must compliment them and tell them how great they are, and how well they serve Allah, and how this and how that. Then they do business. So today the General wanted to hire 10 bodyguards, but I am not allowed to let him hire bodyguards. According to Arabic traditions you can never tell them “No,” you must tell them yes why you cannot do that. It does not make sense. So I tell him “Sir, you are a very powerful man and must feel threatened. That is a great burden that you bear well. So keep on bearing it without bodyguards.”

Then they gift, but they give crap. Like pens that won’t work or 2002 calendars, or stuff and things. Well, my translator brought me a book, so with quick goat thinking I hand him a box of MREs for his family. Now the box weighs 20 pounds, and he has to walk several miles to get home, and when he eats ’em after all that frustration of walking he probably won’t ever gift me again.

Now get this, they only work til 2:00 p.m. Yeah, after that it is forbidden to talk of work. “We no talk of this subject” is what they tell you. Holy cow, man, I ain’t even hungry yet and you’re quitting?

We eat every day at 12:30, then the Kurds bring tea every 10 minutes until 2:00 p.m. Did anyone catch that — Kurds, wait one paragraph I’ll explain. So we drink chai until you pop, of course no work is done through chai, so basically work is over at 12:30. Now they only start at 10:00, so only 2.5 hours of work a day is done. Now 1.5 of those hours are dedicated to Allah phrases. 30 minutes are used gifting, 15 minutes are for water drinking ’cause it is hotter than the sun, and 15 minutes are lost trying to explain to the translator why the hell you are pissed ’cause you just wasted a whole day and now there ain’t time left to do anything.

Now Kurds: The Kurdish Islamic Unionist Party is camping out in an office building and has been ordered to leave by the newly appointed governor of Mosul. Well, they are still there ’cause Allah has not provided them a new place to stay — but the key is they have not gotten their buttocks off the couch to go look for a new place. They serve me tea all day and I do not pay them and are great for conversation so I grin and bear it. Now, since they are Kurds they have their own language. After 2:00 p.m. when all my workers leave the Kurds want you to learn their language and not Arabic. So now I got dudes that look like Osama, who don’t belong in the building, serving me tea that I did not ask for, trying to teach me a language completely different from the language that I already don’t know but have been trying to learn. When I get back to camp I tell the first person I see “hello” which is much better than Marhava, or Is sholneck, or As Salem Alla Leka……

Tonight the General wanted to be on TV – so I got him a spot through our Public Affairs Office. What a pain! So that is what I do and why I have not mailed.

Staying busy…