E-Mails from Iraq: A Tucson Marine writes home

08-30-2004

I've been here a week, and it feels like a month.

We're in a transition period because the company we're taking over for is leaving soon. This is the quiet before the storm.

After the changeover, we'll be busy.

Our company is spread all over Iraq. Our commanding officer and first sergeant went to visit some of our Marines stationed elsewhere, and they told us we have it really good down here.

Have it really good?? I can only imagine the conditions those others are living in.

It's hot here. I feel like I'm getting a tan inside my cammies. The A/C has consistently gone out inside the tent, and we move outside because it's cooler even during the hottest part of the day, which is when it usually happens.

I think I've already dropped 5 pounds, and we've been here a week. For all that live in Southern Arizona, you have some idea of the heat I'm talking about.

But then add a 5-pound Kevlar and flak with sappy plates, and you're adding at least 10 degrees. By the way, sappy plates are body armor that protects our internal organs. We have one in the front and in the back. And we've heard stories that they do work.


09-02-2004

The phones and computers are down again. And there aren't enough to go around.

We have three working phones and 20 Internet-connected computers for 1,000 Marines. The servers always go down, or the generators go down and then they have to minimize.

We wait in line for hours to get 30 minutes on the phone or the computer.

We could always go to main side (the rest of the large base) to use the phones down there, but it's an hour each way. Sometimes more.

Some Marines try to act hard, saying during World War II they never called home. I'm like: "This is the 21st century; times have changed. Either fix the phones or just take them away so we can't complain."

Everyone has this fake notion that just because we're Marines we have to be hard about everything.

Yes, they send us Marines to do what no one else wants to do. Yes, we're the No. 1 fighting force in the world, and I'll go wherever they ask me to. But that doesn't mean I don't want to keep in touch with my loved ones.

09-05-2004

I woke up this morning, and it was beautiful outside.

The sun was barely coming up, and I looked above me and there was a half-crescent moon. I stood outside for a few minutes by myself, and it was so peaceful.

Imagine that, peace in a war zone.

Even though the days just mesh together because we don't get weekends off, today feels like a Sunday. Reminds me of the Lionel Richie song, "Easy Like Sunday Morning."

Some Marines lost their lives this week. All we know is they were going home in two weeks. It's sad to think that they made it almost seven months, and they died so short of going home.

I think about my mortality, and it blows my mind how life can be so fleeting. You work hard and you struggle to make a good life for yourself and try to accomplish something, and in the blink of an eye it's gone. I try to put my psyche around it, and it gives me headache.

My platoon commander had to go to a Marine's home and tell his parents that their son wasn't coming home alive.

Every time he tells the story he cries, and I cry with him. Only because I can imagine what my parents would do if I was killed. But we're Marines, and this is what we train to do. If it happens, it happens, but at least I'll die fighting for something I believe in.

Before I deployed, I went to the Vietnam Memorial with my father. I've been there many times, and every time I go, it overwhelms me. I always forget how long it really is.

My father told me he never wanted to see my name on some wall. And I want to make sure he never does.

09-06-2004

It's almost 12:30 on this beautiful Labor Day, and guess what we're doing?

That's right: laboring. It's also a hot day, and if you can believe it, there is actually some moisture in the area today.

The days are getting shorter. The sun comes up at 6 a.m. and sets around 8 p.m. now. Soon it will be winter, and it's supposed to get chilly here.

My roommate is leaving in a few weeks - and I get to have my can all to myself. Yippee!!

I will try to write once a week, but the lines for the phones and computers are always long. And if there any KIAs (killed in action), they shut them all down for 48 to 72 hours. They do this so they can notify the families properly.

Some idiot called his friend's wife and told her her husband was dead. I want my family to be notified of my death the correct way.

09-19-2004

The first article of my column was published yesterday.

I have to admit I was feeling guilty about all the attention I'm receiving because of it.

I've always been humble about being a Marine. Well, if I'm with a group of my fellow Marines, watch out. Any Marine or former Marine will understand that last statement.

There are more than 100,000 Marines, soldiers, sailors and airman serving in the Middle East. There have been more than 1,100 of my brothers and sisters killed and more than 7,000 wounded.

As I read the numerous e-mails of support, I realized that this column is not for my own benefit, but it's to honor the memory of those who have given their lives and the loved ones they have left behind.

Let us not forget the Arizonans who have paid the ultimate sacrifice:

Marine Gunnery Sgt. Edward Reeder, Camp Verde; Army Sgt. Benjamin Biskie, Tucson; Army Spc. Isaac Campoy, Douglas; Army Sgt. Sean Cataudella, Tucson; Marine Lance Cpl. Michael J. Halal, Glendale; Army Spc. Spencer Karol, Woodruff; Marine Lance Cpl. Quinn Keith, Page; Army Chief Warrant Officer Matthew Laskowski, Phoenix; Marine Pvt. Jeffrey Lawrence, Tucson; Navy Hospitalman Joshua McIntosh, Kingman; Army Sgt. Michael Merila, Sierra Vista; Marine Cpl. Dominique Nicolas, Maricopa; Marine Sgt. Fernando Padilla-Ramirez, San Luis; Army Spc. Justin Onwordi, Chandler; Army Spc. Alyssa Peterson, Flagstaff; Army Pfc. Lori Piestewa, Tuba City; Army Pfc. Harry Shondee Jr., Ganado; Navy Petty Officer 3rd Class David Sisung, Phoenix; Army Sgt. Carl Thomas, Phoenix; Navy Lt. Nathan White, Mesa; Marine Lance Cpl. Michael J. Williams, Phoenix; Arizona National Guard Sgt. Elijah Tai Wah Wong, Mesa; and Marine Lance Cpl. Robert Zurheide Jr., Tucson.

You are gone, but never forgotten.

09-07-04

It's a distinct sound.

It's a sound millions of people will never hear; but once you do, you will never forget it.

It's the whistling of a mortar round before it impacts its target.

I've heard it now.

I'm not scared of taking a bullet. Hey, if it happens it happens. But getting blown up is not the way I want to leave this life.

I want my parents to be able to bury all of me, not pieces. The human in me was scared for a millisecond, but then the sergeant of Marines kicked in and I had to ignore the elements and make sure my Marines were safe and accounted for.

Some were giving me grief about being scared. You're damn right I was scared. Who wouldn't be if mortars were dropping from the sky? All I could think about was me or another Marine getting blown up and we needed to get to a safe place.

09-08-04

The chow hall is out of food.

You can always tell because they were out of eggs and cereal.

And the homemade syrup we had this morning was molasses.

And it was burnt.

I went back to my room, broke open an MRE and had beef ravioli for breakfast. Mmmm good!!

I had a little bit of excitement this morning. I was on a security detail outside the main gate. Some IPs, Iraqi police, came on the base for training today.

So we went out there to assist while they searched them and their vehicles. There was a dog handler out there with a bomb-sniffing dog.

The dog had to be about 2 years old because he was hyper just like my beloved Doberman, Goliath.

So we're out there and we're almost done with the detail when a dog approaches.

I don't think it was a stray dog because we heard it barking from the main gate the entire time. Plus, it looked clean, healthy, and it had a collar on it.

I assumed some Marines took it under their care. So the stray dog approaches the bomb-dog. He doesn't look like he's going to attack, but all of a sudden the dog handler pulls out his 9 mm and shoots it.

We don't know if he hit it, but I just stood there and looked at him. I was thinking, "Was that really necessary?"

I know he was trying to protect his $30,000 dog, but he could have just kicked his foot at the dog and it would have run away.

09-10-04

There's a cool breeze today.

I don't think it even broke 100. It must have been 99 degrees.

There's not much going on right now. The company we're relieving is almost out of here and this means the quiet before the storm is over.

There is a boxing meet tonight. I guess it's an every Friday event.

I would like to do it because I know I would win. But I'm too ridiculously good-looking to mess my face up - HA!

I wish I were home on this Friday night. I would round up "the posse" and we would get into something good.

Eat some seafood or sushi and then see where the night takes us. Instead, I'll probably spend my Friday night in our tent watching movies, playing spades, and trying not to pass out when the guys take off their boots.

It was so awful the other night that I left the tent at 1900 (7 p.m.). I almost fell out from the stench. I mean, sure we all stink after being in the hot sun all day, but this was funk.

I asked them if they take showers. And they said they usually do about every three days. I told them if there are showers readily available they need to get one every day.

Last year, they didn't get a shower for 55 days. Yeah, that's hard, but it's also disgusting. You do what you gotta do.

09-11-04

Last night while watching "Scarface" for the hundredth time, I took a pinch of chew.

All the Marines use it out here. I shouldn't say use it. I should say they crave it like a drug.

You can tell when a Marine is out of his brand of chew because he starts PMS-ing. I personally think it's absolutely disgusting, but I wanted to see what all the fuss is about.

So there I am. I have this pinch of Copenhagen in my mouth. My lip is burning. My gums are burning. My throat is burning because I can't help swallowing a little bit of it.

The guys are saying, "Sergeant, you're hard. That's hard."

About five minutes later, I start feeling lightheaded and I realize that I'm high. I'm high off Copenhagen.

I was sitting there spaced the heck out and now my Marines are laughing at me. I would have laughed at myself also.

So this morning I get into work and there's a can of Copenhagen on my desk.

No thanks.

It's Saturday morning and I wish I had a hot cup of Starbucks Sumatra coffee.

The chow hall has food now. Well, there are only three things the chow hall serves for lunch and dinner: chicken, beef, and - that's right - more chicken and beef.

There's fast chow and slow chow. Fast chow is burgers, hot dogs, fries, etc. Slow chow is more on the healthy side.

I don't know if you would call fried processed veal steaks healthy, but they seem to think so. I try to eat as healthy as I can, but after eating chicken three days in a row, I go over to the dark side.

09-20-04

Today has been a very busy day.

We're constantly being mortared now.

As I was waiting outside of the phone center with about 20 Marines, we heard the whistling of a mortar round. We're used to it now, so we stood around and looked up at the sky wondering where it was going to impact.

Wherever it hit, it was close because it was loud. A corpsman who was outside with us hit the deck when the mortar impacted. He was quite embarrassed when he looked up and saw we were standing there looking at him.

All of us kind of paused for a moment, thinking, "Should we laugh at him?" Then there was a roar of laughter. We laughed as if we were watching "Chappelle's Show." Ha-ha.

Our first Iraqi police class is graduating tomorrow.

They are going to be issued Glock 9 mm pistols. It's sad to think that after tomorrow, half of them will have sold their weapons.

And Marines and soldiers who are in the thick of things might get shot with weapons we've provided. It's backwards to me. And that's all I have to say about that.

09-22-04

As I'm working this morning, I hear the familiar sounds of mortars impacting.

However, because the windows in the office are plywood, it could be someone letting the main office doors slam.

Well, I was right. The first sergeant just informed me there were six mortars, and three hit right over the berm.

This means I have to go.

09-29-04

This morning was a somber morning as we had a memorial service for two Marines who lost their lives on Friday.

One of them had a smile much like mine. Even on the worst day, even if you resisted it, he could bring a smile to your face.

The last thing he said to me was, "Come on, sergeant, it's not that bad." I looked at him with a menacing scowl, but he got a smile and a laugh out of me.

Now he's gone.

As we remembered them, I thought, "How many more of these am I going to attend before I leave here?"

I can take being mortared, shot at, crappy food, not showering for days and the heat, but what do you do when you know one of your brothers is going home in a box?

At chow this afternoon, CNN had analysts analyzing the Scott Peterson case and then headlines below talking about Britney Spears being pregnant. All I could think about is how trivial and insignificant these things are.

There are more important things happening in the world.

I'm hoping the week will get better.

10-01-04

I would like to thank everyone for their words of encouragement and support. In times like these, it means a lot.

I haven't wanted to call or write home much. You get this sense that everyone's life is progressing and you're just here.

I can't fathom how Marines with families can make it work. I find that I just have to shut myself off emotionally from my loved ones and do what I gotta do.

Some Marines talk about home way too much. Hell, I did when I got here.

But now it just makes it harder. I don't even talk about what I'm going to do when I get back because it feels like a lifetime away.

I have my first boxing match tonight. I feel sorry for the poor girl who gets in the ring with me.

10-02-04

The boxing match was awesome.

I won, of course.

She put up a pretty good fight, but in the end, I was composed and out-boxed her.

She just came out swinging and wilding out. You know, fighting like a girl. My 1-2 shut her down real quick though. See tape at 11. Ha-ha. I think I've found something to occupy my time. Laila Ali, watch out!

It's a quiet week for the unit. There are things happening, but my lips are sealed. That's just the way it is.

It's another Saturday night in lovely Iraq and only 25 more Saturday nights to go. But, hey, who's counting?

Editor's note
Due to military restrictions, Marine Sgt. Kim Bahti is no longer able to write her e-mails from Iraq.
To contact Bahti, who grew up in Tucson, write to Sgt. K.H. Bahti at RCT-7, MP CO B, UIC 41500, FPO AP 96426-1500 or send e-mail via [email protected].