Whistle While You Work

I am not entirely sure how to go about talking about this subject, but I feel that it needs to be broached.

Combat Zone Stress.

I sit in an office in the center of Baghdad, Iraq and work on a computer network. I know this doesn't sound harsh or dangerous or anything like that, which it really shouldn't, but the harsh reality is this...

I am in a Combat Zone.

There is no getting around that fact. Every one of us hear stories from the war zone about some roadside bomb killing U.S. Soldiers, or some rocket killing some Iraqi Civilians. Each of you there in North America are frightfully aware of the losses of Americans and other Soldiers from other Nations. What some consider stressful, others can shrug off and continue their day, and visa-versa.

I understand the value of human life more than many of you, specifically due to the tentative grasp on life that everyone around me holds on to due to our circumstances. At any time, some disaster could happen, or some random bullet could fall on any one of the people interred here at this base, thus bringing to a close that individual spark of life and vitality.

I am hoping that every one of you are fully understanding of the implications of what I am talking about as to what may happen while I am here. Conviction of belief is what is allowing me to stay here and be as calm as I am about the situation, and I know that if anything were to happen which were to take me away from any of you, YOU would be the ones left with the burden of that loss, but I know that all of you have the strength of conviction that I have as well.

Pastor BooBoo is fully cognizant of this feeling, as his time in the military was during the Viet Nam war, and most of you have had friends who lost loved ones during that conflict as well.

This conflict is for my generation.

This conflict is my cross to bear.

I bear it willingly and with no regret, because the people here have been in desperation for generations, and to just see the look of gratitude on ONE of their faces has made this all worth while. I have been trying to think of a way to talk about it, but until now, words have eluded me.

I was on a detail not too long ago where I was an "L.N. Escort". L.N. means Local National, or in this case, Iraqi citizen. I met a very caring man named "Liman" (I do not know exactly how to spell his name, so that is as close as I can get) and it was my duty on this occasion to escort him around the Base while he did his work.

Now Liman does Septic Work, which is to say that he drives around in a big yellow "short tank" truck and siphons out the septic systems before they overflow, which NONE of us would care for, but he does this job with enthusiasm. His english is very broken, and my arabic is even worse, so we had a lot of difficulty in communication, but we ended up making due.

He and I talked about our families, and we even had a short discussion on religion. My job on this day was essentially to make sure that Liman didn't wander off and start "getting into things" that he shouldn't be getting into, and to protect the installation from him. What I found amazing was this man's profound respect that he has for the U.S. Military. His view of us is so high and exalted that he almost views us as messiah's of a sort, sent to deliver him from the torment that his life was.

This wonderful human being sang happily as he worked, songs of praise and glory in his native language, but which ended up leaving me with a pervading feeling of overall peace and happiness. This is a man who wakes up every morning to go to a job where he cleans up feces, and he is EXTATIC to do the job. Could any of us do the same if we had to clean a septic tank? Could any of us look into the eyes of some complete stranger with a rifle and thank them for being there?

Our lives do not hang in the balance like his does. He comes to work on a U.S. Military installation, and loves working for us, when there is the chance that if his neighbors find out what he does for a living, he could be dragged out of his home and executed by the remnants of the Hussein Regime or the terrorist organizations that the Coalition forces are here to stop. What could be worse than that? Oh, here's something else that the terrorists have been doing. Instead of going after the people who are helping us, they go after their families. He could come home to a note from terrorists telling him that if he doesn't help them, he'll get pieces of his family back.

I wish I had more time with Liman, because he was so wonderful to be around, someone who is living his life to the fullest while making the best of every situation that comes his way. This man is taking risks with his life and family every day, yet he has the strength to smile at everything that happens to him during the day.

Our country is lacking this strength.

Americans are getting lax in their lives.

If the Voting public and elected officials had a fraction of this man's struggles, they would collapse in tears and run away.

Americans lack character and value, and they put more stock in their possessions and personal comfort than in the strife and struggle of those less fortunate than them.

I challenge everyone to sacrifice some personal comfort for a week, and see if they can do this without complaint.

Perhaps we will hear more singing while we are working, and maybe we will even shock ourselves to find that WE are the ones who are singing.