One Day in Baghdad

05/27/2007

By TODD TORRANCE
NY Times
Published: May 27, 2007


When the alarm goes off at 0730 hours, I roll from my cot and, as routinely as finding socks back home, strap on uniform, armor, pads, grenades, a 9-millimeter Beretta, assorted mayhem and hurt. Routine is not so comforting in Iraq, I think. But this day is so far like almost every other. I joined the Army with my G.E.D. and a desire to see life beyond Syracuse. I signed just before 9/11 and was shipped to boot camp after the towers fell.

I reach the row of Humvees (just trucks to us) at a run and join my friends and my family, the 1-71 Cavalry. Cowboy, a 30-something farm boy, is checking the fuel, ammo and radio. Baghdad mounts his 50-caliber gun. I check over my Squad Automatic Weapon, known best by its descriptive acronym: SAW.

A staff sergeant briefs us on the day’s plan. We’ll be security for the funeral procession of an Iraqi Army official. Basically we’ll try to stop people who are angry about the killing from killing one another. We mount up and head out, American Engineering behind the wheel, and take position overlooking a major highway. Around 1100 hours, we go to pick up a commander from a nearby base, then come back to resume our observation. Then, on our way to our base for lunch, we are diverted to retrieve an interpreter from the International Zone. Plans never last.

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