The Journal of Jersey D Gibson
09/23/2007 02:59 p.m.
I'm looking around the wonderful expanse of Northern Iraq, where the average daytime temperature makes Arizona look temperate in comparison. The sand is thick and heavy with "moon dust" covering it, while the sun blazes in a cloudless blue sky.
If you ignore the chattering machine guns, the occational incoming mortar rounds, and the black smokestacks of something burning, it's only slightly hellish here.
Yes, I'm back in Iraq, and this time I'm the voice of experience as I watch over a bunch of new guys who are looking around with the eyes "oh, crap, why did I join the Army instead of going to collage" talking loud. peace and home are a long way off, and it's off by a long long stretch.
Things are simpler here, though. Much more black and white. Little about politics, more with weight. The bringing of th sun comes the Imam's song, and us getting up in the morning grumbling, not so different from home. IF you live in a trailer, that is, or a tent.
Mostly, though, it is my wife that helps me get through the most. She's always there for me, talking to me no matter what time I call, helping take care of things at home while I'm over here, roasting. Its such a wonderful feeling knowing that a wonderful woman has got your back. I can only hope to repay the favor. Best way I know how is to come back home with as many pieces attached as possible.
luv ya, babe.
I am currently Disillusioned
I am listening to nothing
Return to the Library of Jersey D Gibson