My Days Spent in Iraq

My days spent in Iraq

It has been five years since I have set foot in Iraq. When I visualize back on my days spent in Iraq, I recall it as being a country that was flat, dull and dry. It wasn't something I would put on a postcard and mail home. I still remember the day that started my journey to Iraq as if it was yesterday.

On the morning of September 11, 2001, I was at Marine Corps boot camp located at Parris Island, South Carolina, on the parade deck practicing drill when I was then notified that terrorist had attacked the world trade center in New York City, New York. Following my graduation from boot camp and extensive combat training, in April 2002, I was assigned to 2nd Battalion 8th Marines Regiment in Camp Lejeune, North Carolina. Eight months later, I was notified that I would be deploying to Iraq in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom. Over the next agonizing months I try to prepare myself for a yearlong departure from civilization and my family.

On January 9, 2003, I boarded the US Naval Vessel; a Tarawa-class amphibious assault ship, USS Saipan (LHA-2), and embarked on a 30-day journey to Iraq. During that time most of my days consisted of lots of leisure time, such as going to the gym, practicing martial arts, and lounging in my berthing area. There wasn't much to do in my berthing area other than playing cards, watching movies on my portable DVD player, and laying in my bed with the anticipation of what may lie ahead of me in the days to come.

In February 2002, after crossing the Atlantic Ocean and going through the Suez Canal, I finally arrived in Kuwait. I then offloaded from the US Naval Vessel, loaded up on the Humvee and was directed to Camp Shoup. The camp was a vast area of sand that consisted of numerous small tents that were for sleeping, a couple large tents that were used for dining, a couple large tents for my commanders quarters, portable restrooms and quadcons to hold all of the radio equipment. My days then consisted of training missions, performing radio watch, and playing football. A couple of weeks passed, slowly and hectic as they were, I made it through the transition into the war zone. I was then given the order to go to An-Nasiriyah, Iraq.

After twelve lengthy hours of riding in a Humvee, I arrived in An-Nasiriyah. I instantly noticed that it was a neglected city, with dirt roads and the weather was rather satisfying, which was approximately