3.6 Heavy Rain

The Loudest Alarm Clock

During a hot Iraqi morning, I watched 5 million dollars worth of military equipment become worthless. I woke up and opened the door to the outside area where my unit's trucks parked in a line 75 yards away. As I took a step out of the room, one of the vehicles exploded. I froze for a second, trying to comprehend what was happening. I watched several more explosions occur before slamming the door shut and looking at my group in the room, some still sleeping, others getting boots and helmets on. Our training was starting to take over, the muscle memory and instinct to stay in a hardened structure for safety.

The Aftermath

Our Platoon Sergeant was sitting at the edge of his bed and looked up at me and asked, "Hey, Hrabe, is it raining outside?" This was somewhat of a normal response because we had been in the country for several months at this point and we had become somewhat desensitized to this everyday occurrence. After an hour so, we all walked out to our vehicle line to see the damage.

Looking over the damage with my platoon, a team leader took a hard drag off his cigarette while joking, "It looks like we are walking for a while." The smell of burning metal and rubber filled the dusty air. We worked for several weeks to fix what we could while trying to find replacements for the damaged trucks. We walked so many miles for those weeks in the hot sun through beautiful palm groves and scorching desert heat.

We were in Al Hit, Iraq living in an abandoned Iraqi bunker. My unit and I had just moved into this area, and it was our first morning in this space. We were assigned to the area because of many mortar attacks, as well as an uptick in insurgent activity.

Lasting Memories

It was 2006 near Ramadi, Iraq, one of the hottest and most televised areas that year. During the time that we walked, almost everywhere were able to interact on a more personal level with the people of Al Hit and Ramadi. Buying food from street vendors and helping children by handing out coloring books and crayons. We were able to see that although every day we were in a war zone being shot at and blown up, a large portion of the populace wanted us in the area. They found value in the help that we were providing, which gave me hope that this war was not just about an attack or oil but to help people who were so oppressed.

I still currently serve in the United States Army as a Reservist, and although hard days like that stick, so many better ones do too.