Week 3

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BAGHDAD , Iraq — Iraqi Security Forces and Task Force Baghdad Soldiers responded to reports of two explosions in central Baghdad around 8:20 a.m. Nov. 18.

Initial reports indicate terrorists detonated two car bombs near the Al-Hamra Hotel on the Karradah Peninsula .  One of the car bombs detonated against a wall and the second car bomb damaged an apartment complex near the hotel.

Soldiers from 1st Battalion, 64th Armor Regiment responded to the site and requested support from the 92nd Engineer Battalion and the 36th Engineer Group to help in rescue efforts of Iraqi civilians trapped in the rubble.

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The first blast woke me up, rattling the walls of my modest trailer. The second one was fainter, which I figured was either smaller or further away. I stayed in my bed for a moment listening intently.

I sprang out of my bed after the third blast, faintest off all. So did my roommate. We scrambled to put on our uniforms, pulling pants over my gym shorts because I didn't have time to take them off.

Just a few days ago, a mortar volley killed some contractors and left a gaping hole in one of the firehouse doors. I had been on the other side of Baghdad when it happened. I didn't learn the sound of bombs falling from the sky.

My roommate and I paused, half-dressed. When mortars or rockets are fired at the Palace compound a blaring voice comes over the loud speakers warning everyone to take cover. The system is automated. Radar picks up the rounds in mid-air, and the message starts playing, sometimes before the first grenade hits. We didn't hear the voice.

“I don't think we have to go out there?” he said. We both nodded in agreement. As a precaution I grabbed my helmet, strapped it on my head, and we both went back to sleep.

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The Iraqis love their rifles. Just had a baby? Let's fire a few shots in the air. Having trouble sleeping? Fire some shots into the air. Daughter ate your Hot Pocket? Pop pop pop pop…

Someone here told me the Iraqi police regulate traffic with their AK-47s: green tracers for go, red tracers for stop. And at night, insurgents fire bullets over the river into the green zone before they go to bed.

With all that gunplay, you would think more people would be getting hurt. Bullets do land unexpectedly. Before we arrived a colonel in our division was walking outside when a bullet fell from the sky and hit his shoulder. The wound was minor and he lived on to drink coffee.

We truly are on vacation here. This is the good life. Everyday leaves you with one or two moments that are surreal, like sitting by Saddam's pool, drinking a Coke and looking up to see a Blackhawk helicopter thump over your head.

We are always busy - bored was a concept left in the States - but it is a refreshing busy. The Iraqi elections are coming and we are going full-bore after Zarquwi. Both are enough to keep us occupied, but add in reconstruction, prison abuse, roadside bombs and a fledgling government and we have ourselves a good time.

We see lawmakers bickering about our role here. We wonder if or when we will be pulled out, but know in our hearts we are here until the end. I don't think anyone has changed their mind about coming here. The last two weeks have only reinforced my decision.

I'm on vacation and I'll be damned if I have to go home early.