Another Baghdad memory, courtesy of AirBorneParaInf82

I stumbled across Eighty Deuce On The Loose In Iraq through another post he had put up on The Sandbox. I clicked onto his blog page and began reading some amazing posts.

This guy is good. I hope to see a book, e-book or paper book, sometime in the future. Very powerful stuff.

Anywho... it was his post about "the right wrong decision". It brought back another memory from my first deployment to the "Bagh".

It was our first month in country. Our first solo week since the "left-seat-right-seat ride" with the team we replaced. We stopped at Camp Cuervo (AKA Rustimiyah) in Baghdad. They had a kick ass DFAC. The line was ridiculous. We waited for probably over 30 minutes. No sooner do we get to the head of the line and grab out trays, than a barrage of mortars begins to rain down on the FOB.

Keep in mind that a month before, this very DFAC was leveled by a rocket attack and there were a lot of casualties. People were understandably skittish.

So the mortars begin walking around the base and all the contracted food workers split for the shelters.

This positively pisses me right off. I've been busting my ass in Jisr Diyala and Jifr Najaf all morning. Little fucking kids begging me for candy, pencils, water, chocolate, food, trying to snatch shit off my armor, and then pelting me with rocks when we leave despite the fact I give them anything I can spare. Changing not one, but TWO flat tires in the mud (run flats my ASS!) after having to take off ALL my armor to get under the trucks to place the jacks with my team forming a tight perimeter around me to provide security against any snipers looking for a target of opportunity. Covered in shit-mud having to play SAW gunner for two more hours after that. I LOVE BEING A SPECIALIST!

And all I wanted was a fucking cheese burger and a Pepsi. Just one Pepsi. And Ahmed and Mustafa were pissing themselves over some mortars that would just as easily level their little"bomb shelter".

So my buddy "Cooter" (name withheld due to OPSEC) and I set our trays down and walk behind the counter. We served the remaining soldiers their lunch until a bitchy E6 female type comes running from the kitchen screaming some shit about how I can't serve food because I'm not wearing any headgear to keep hair out of the food.

One problem: I HAD SHAVED MY HEAD FUCKING BALD! AS IN NO HAIR!

So like any good E4 worthy of the "Sham Shield", I tell her this is bullshit, decide I deserve a double portion of spaghetti (I worked up quite the appetite serving up all that food) and TWO Pepsi's.

I could hear my team leader CPT "JawBreaker" (OPSEC) roll his eyes.

That was my first experience in the food service industry. I made sure to put it on my resume (sarcasm).

But you know what they say, a bitching soldier is a happy soldier. And I was happier than a pig (or specialist) in shit.

So, be sure to stop by and check out Eighty Deuce On The Loose In Iraq. It's good shit.

JB2D out.