Flare Scare: Journal 9/13/06
by Ms. Babble on September 13, 2006
in Iraq
Things are feeling a bit jumpy around here lately. Tempers have been on the rise and nerves are beginning to fray. Setting the “going home jitters” aside, there’s been a higher threat of attack also. Ramadan starts on the 24th and everyone is expecting some sort of crazy response by the insurgents at some point. Ramadan is supposed to be a month of daytime fasting. In the evenings, they eat small meals and visit with family. As far as my understanding goes, it’s a time to contemplate their religion and form closer bonds with friends and family.
But I guess somewhere in the fine print it says to blow up Americans. Naturally, I’m a bit wary.
With those issues in mind, I’ll continue.
We have medical helicopters fly over us all the time dropping off casualites. It’s become almost instinct to stop mid-conversation when talking outside as they fly by. Even when screaming at each other just a few feet away, the noise is too loud to continue talking. So we end up just staring at our feet and pick up the conversation once they pass by.
Tonight I stepped outside for a smoke and I saw the familiar little red light of a chopper in the distance. I was alone so there was no worry about rushing a conversation before their noisy rotors got over my head. I sat down. Relaxed. I anticipated the ‘thump thump’ of the blades. I saw the familiar red cross on the underbelly and wondered who they were bringing to the hospital. (Just as I think everytime I see a Medevac chopper.)
Just as I looked up at the chopper who wasn’t more than 30 feet above me, I took a drag of my smoke. It was nearly pitch black… my cherry lit up like a beacon. Instantly I hear, “Pop! Pop! Pop!” For I moment I think this crazy fool is shooting at me! When I crouch down I see three flares flying at my head. The whole place illuminated and they landed behind me next to a trailor.
After making sure that they didn’t set our living quarters on fire, I came back inside. I remembered then that choppers throw flares when they think they’re getting shot at. That guy thought my cigarette cherry was a muzzle flash. Ha!
When they said cigarettes can kill ya, they weren’t kidding!
So, I’m feeling particularly jumpy now. Even our own helicopters are scaring the crap out of me. How many days are left?
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