My goal of avoiding a trip to Baghdad while mustering out has failed, and I’m off to the Big House – lots of Brass, waiting around, horse holders getting in the way and all the annoying Americanisms one grows to dislike.

In a rush I organize a flight up there, hurry home and pack up a bag – sleeping bag, PT gear, some socks, toothbrush and such – as well as pack up the TV & VCR, which I’ve promised to the Master Chief up in Baghdad. He’s going to ship it further west, to some poor bastards living in dirt camps out in Anbar.

Only to sit depressed and unfulfilled when my flight to Baghdad got cancelled on Tuesday; the RAF loadmaster fell down and broke his ankle so the C-130 landed at Kuwait with a medical emergency declared. They x-rayed him and stuck him in a hospital, which meant the plane had to go home. We were left at the air terminal muttering things like "Dude, last we heard there was a war on – tape it up, chew some codeine and get on with it" and other such inconsiderate remarks.

After they cancelled the flight I went back in to work and put in my request for another day, unlike civilian air travel there’s something calmer and less anguished about military flight troubles and people are less pissy and bitchy at the inconvenience. I think it might be as simple that military people have lots of direct experience that "S--- happens," and flights are delayed or cancelled on the whims of fate. Or maybe its just that we’re not paying out of pocket for the flight and are, in a sense, always on the clock. Hopefully I can keep this more Zen-like attitude toward travel after I transmogrify back into a civilian.

Anyway, three days later – after numerous alarums and emergencies and cancellations, not to mention some serious stress when I had to pack everything up and finish my job handover on less than one day’s notice – I’m finally in Baghdad. The flight was pretty wild at times, the C-130 pilots do some acrobatic power climbs, drops and power dives as they leap away from or practically crash down onto the airfields. Who knew that I’d sort of like it, yes me, Mr-gets-dizzy-on-a-civilian-jet-plane.

I found it very awkward to leave Basra. Like I mentioned earlier, it felt like I left everybody in a lurch – which is strange because they already passed me over even before I left, already gone and getting ever more out of the information loop. Soon I’ll be like everyone else, a one-eyed man in a Kingdom with the blind at one end and insect eyes at the other. A strange, sad feeling, almost shameful that I haven’t done enough for the team. I’m not even happy to be going home, which sounds weird. But it is partly that it has not registered yet – too many things can still go wrong, to delay the process.

Baghdad is as I remembered, though less hot and much, much more muddy. Like Basra, the mud on the roads gets churned to a lukewarm milkshake consistency, so it plops and sploshes very easily and covers your trouser legs with mud in an instant. I stayed the first night in the visitor tents with a bunch of Aussies. They were eager and open to talk as always, easy with their laughter and happy to be out with their ‘Mates. One of them described going boar hunting with four dogs, a rope, needle, thread and a knife. The dogs find the pig and worry it, the Aussie moves in and kills it with his knife, then sews up the dogs gashes with needle and thread before tying the carcass up with rope to bring home. Simple, eh?

Last night I tracked down a Staff Sergeant I know and he got me half a trailer to live in while I’m here – as always, it is who you know, as I’d helped him out in Basra a few times. An important lesson in reciprocity.

A lot more water up here than Basrah – the canals are full, and there’s even fish – and there’s more wildlife too. I saw many water birds today and heard and even saw half-a-dozen coyotes running through the reeds along the canals and along the lakes, yipping and howling into the night. They are totally wild, apparently and have charged and bitten joggers more than once.

I’ve also attached another rainy day photo from Basrah, though by now it is dry, with the ground hardening to cement and the mud blowing around as a light, irritating dust. Given the lack of drainage – the earth is like asphalt – the water stands and stands til it slowly evaporates.

Hope all is well with everyone,

Timo