Lewis is back, he phoned me while I was out and just left me a message about needing to crash for a few hours. I could hear Carol in the background bitching at him about something. I'm still puzzling over the postcard and had a wild dream about palm trees last night.

Gods

Maybe a week after we set up a base at the palace, we started to take in all kinds of strays. There were chickens and cats and birds and even an emaciated water buffalo. We also had vendors trying to sell us everything from trinkets to contraband to illegal recreations. There were whores waiting for us every night and sometimes we took them in but TM always said to never let them stay more than two nights or they'll be like fleas and you'll never get rid of them. I tried to stay away from them all together because I figured I'd get something worse than fleas that I'd never get rid of.

One day, TM came back from patrol and had a run in with one of the whores. She was waiting on the steps outside the palace, hunched over in the shade. When TM came in and dropped his pack, she sprang up and started screaming at him. At first we all just started laughing because TM put on a dramatic performance of being confused and shocked. The more we laughed, though, the more pissed she became and she screamed at the rest of us in broken English that she was pregnant. That shut us all up and TM quickly grabbed her elbow and hustled her through the crumbling building and out of our sight. He came back around later as we were warming up some food, giving us all a lopsided smile. Everyone waited for him to bring up what had happened but he never did. Just kept stuffing his mouth with fake ham and grinning at us.

The next day, we went out to patch of sand where there were supposed to be an insurgent hidey-hole. We got caught in a firefight, they had dug in and would pop up and fire off a couple of rounds. We lobbed a few grenades but they were in pretty deep, Used the sand to cover their bunkers and we thought for a while they'd never come out.. Lt finally sent Pez and TM around to take out a sniper hole but TM charged towards one of the main bunker. The Lt was screaming at him to stop and yelling at us to back him up. We ran like banshees into the fray and TM disappeared into the bunker.

When all the dust settled, TM had killed three in the hole and seven in the bunker. He stood in the doorway, his M16 in one hand and an AK in the other. "I am God." he declared. The rest of us snorted, taking pulls on our water to wash the dust and death out of our throats. "I can create life and I can take it away." We all figured he'd gone crazy from the heat but in the back of my mind I was thinking he was right. The rest of us had been banging the girls in town and only he had created life.

After that day, we never saw the girl again, Dr. Hirsch made his first visit and TM never got so much as a scratch. Still wonder what happened to him after Germany

-Soldier Z

The Palace by the Lake

We had been patrolling our little piece of desert for a while and had set up a camp at a bombed out palace that looked out at Bahr al-Mihl. The place must have been disgustingly opulent before our pilots dropped some presents around it. Now half of the main building was gone, a pile of rubble. What was still standing was somewhat sturdy and we set up camp in it's shadow, fished in the salt lake and kept an eye on the vast, flat horizon. In the basement, we found bottles of wine but Lt Moon, who was still pretty green, wouldn't let us open them, We also found cans of food with which we upgraded our standard MRE so much that we ate off chipped fine china. I stashed three bottles of wine in a dead plant on the east side of the patio.

One hot day, we were standing down from patrol and Garcia, Pez and Medic took a walk to the lake. Lt. Moon was holed up under a date tree with some trashy paperback and the others were sleeping or watching a DVD or writing letters. I was antsy, jittery, and wandered around the remains of the palace, partially fascinated and partially disgusted by the excess. I wondered about the people that had lived here, surrounded by all their oil wealth and wondered if they even knew about the poverty we had seen on our patrols. I wanted to empty a magazine into all the shit I saw but Lt. would have busted my ass so I just threw stuff around until I got bored. Downstairs was dark and cool and I set up a chair in the shadows that gave me a view of the marble patio, the trees that ran down to the salt lake. I lit a cigarette and smoked it slowly in the shadowy quiet.

The quiet was broken by shouts and I could see Pez coming up from the lake with an Iraqi boy of 10 or 12 before him, the boy's arms were raised over his head. Lt Moon came running from his place among the trees with his sidearm drawn and as they turned I could see that Pez had his M16 leveled at the kid's neck. The kid looked scared and barely moved as Lt tried to talk Pez into lowering his weapon. /eventually, Pez took a step back and brought his weapon up, holding it in the crook of his arm. I tried to make out what they were saying but all I could get was snippets of words, fragments of understanding. The kid finally brought his arms down and shoved them deep into his pants pocket and tried to adopt a stance of defiance. I kicked a pebble out that bounced across the stones and the kid jumped, looking in my direction. I took a deep pull on the cigarette, the tip glowing bloodshot in the dark. For a moment I caught a look of terror in the kid's eyes and wondered if he'd been in this situation before. Maybe caught stealing dates and figs and having to stand there in the glare while the Sheik stood in the shade and considered his fate.

Then Medic appeared, holding a bloody rag against Garcia's shoulder. I shouldered my weapon, stepping into the sunlight as Lt and Pez turned and the kid made his break. The light was blinding and I could barely see him run into the thin stand of trees. There was shouting and as my eyes adjusted I saw Pez in pursuit as Lt checked on Garcia. I jumped off the edge of the patio to chase Pez who was shouting for the kid to stop. The kid ignored him, of course, weaved through the grove with a well-practiced precision. For my part, I just tried to keep up, feeling exhilarated with the chase and having something to do. Ahead of me, I saw Pez hold up and squeeze off a shot that peppered splinters in the air. The kid ducked a little but didn't slow down. Pez waved me off to the right, planning to drive him towards me. A quick burst from him, splintered another tree and, sure enough, the kid angled towards my direction. Pez shouted a whoop and fired again.

I shouted something about trying to capture him but Pez was having too much fun to hear me. I could see the water of the salt lake through the trees and wondered what would happen when the kid broke through with nowhere to hide. I wondered about Garcia and his wound and wondered what had happened down at the lake. There's a craziness that sets in when you've been still for too long. On a base, it takes a while for it to kick in but in the field you get so used to being on the edge. Pez was desperate to stay on the edge.

The kid looked at me, big dark eyes full of fear and prayer, and I hesitated. The kid stepped towards me, ready to surrender but he never got the chance. Pez's shot hit him in the side of the head and sent a pink mist into the air that hung for a moment, even after the kid had dropped to the ground.

-Soldier Z

Dr. Hirsch

Bad night of sleep.

Kept thinking about Dr Hirsch who had spent some time with us in the field. He had been assigned as a stress assessor and was supposed to observe our interactions with each other and the civvies we'd encounter. Basically, I think he wanted to see if any of us had gone loco yet and he made three trips out with us. I also saw him in Germany when I came out of my coma.

I remember he carried a note pad in a sand brown folder but I never saw him writing in it, just kept it tucked under his arm. A lot of the time he would sit at the edge of our group, not saying a word as we talked and bullshitted each other. At times, he would be so quiet you'd forget he was there but then when you remembered you'd feel like he was judging what you were saying, how you were siting, every action you were performing.

I guess I was thinking about him because when we last saw him, he was working with dogs at Al Asad Airfield. They were barking like crazy when I got on the plane to come home. He just stood there, watching me and Garcia as we were getting into our humvee to take us out to our plane. waved but he didn't acknowledge at all. Still held onto his notepad as the dogs barked and circled around him.

I remembered him asking me questions one night as we sat wound a small fire next to our bombed out palace. He wanted to know about where I grew up at, what my parents thought of my being there, whether I was bullied in school. Reminded me of the psychological exams we went through before we got shipped over.

I don't think I told him much. When you're out with your brothers, men who would die and kill for you, you remain very guarded with outsiders. Doesn't matter if they have bars and birds or are just civilians. Every question could be an attack, a way to separate us from each other or to get in with us.

So, Dr. Hirsch tried to take us one-by-one and ask us innocent questions but none of us fell for it. By the third trip we seemed to have reached an understanding and he mainly observed. It wasn't long after that third visit that we took heavy hits and I wound up in Germany

-Soldier ZD

Postcard

Carol called me back and said she hasn't gotten anything from Lewis since he left. I read her what was on the postcard and she had no idea what i meant either. She didn't seem particularly concerned about any of it, though. Like the card being from Florida or the oddness of the message. Told me to stop being so damn paranoid and just take a deep breath. She and I don't get along too well. I think she's an arty snob and she thinks I'm some Neanderthal out to lead Lewis down the path of destruction. Usually, when Lewis is around, we're okay and he can act like a buffer. I'm going to try to NOT contact Carol as much as possible.

-Soldier Z

Postcards from Elsewhen

Just wanted to make an observation about the mail today

Went to get mail but there was only a single postcard in my box. I'll try to get a picture of it on here. Anyway, it was from Lewis but the picture was from Florida and it looked like it was about a hundred years old. I was under the impression that he was out in Oregon or something. All it said on the back was "Weather is rainy, Clients are bitchy and horizons are clear. Don't worry bout me, get back to Binderburg soon. Lewis" The postmark was blurred and I could only make out the date, which was 05/30/2010

Have no idea what Binderberg was or where it is. Not sure what the reference to horizons means either. Don't know why the picture on the front is of a banana tree in Florida.

Left a message with Carol to see if she got the same thing.

-Soldier Z

Lewis

Lewis was supposed to be back from wherever it is that he has vanished to but now it seems like he's not due back for a few more days. His girlfriend Carol says she got a call from him at like four in the morning and all he said was that he was tied up and wasn't sure when he would get back. She said was she was half-asleep still and just kind of said "fine" and went back to sleep. It was only when she got up in the morning that a lot of questions formed in her head.

Lewis took off with little notice, said something about having to do an IT job for some client out west but was pretty vague to her. His cell phone's been out of range so contact has been intermittent. Personally, I'm ok but I do miss getting his feedback on this and would love to hear his insight into what was going on with the dogs yesterday.

-Soldier Z