Cigars and Mortars

Life in Camp Fallujah isn’t difficult by most standards. I have a decent bed to sleep in, my own bathroom, hot water, decent food and my own internet connection. Not having to walk in cold mud to take a shower is heaven. Heck, close to where I work is a pond with geese. But, it’s still Iraq and this is still Al Anbar province, so it can be deceptively and suddenly dangerous. Our principle danger on base is indirect fire, or “IDF” in Marine lingo; mortars and rockets. The insurgents aren’t good shots, but they are persistent and the sudden scream of the base alarm system blaring “Incoming! Incoming!” is a fairly regular event.

Now, there are very few things that bring me pleasure in Iraq. The first is getting to “chat” daily via the internet with my wife Nancy and the second is the occasional cigar I get to smoke. Cigars are an indulgence in a place where indulgences are mostly non-existent. So, twice a week I climb on the roof of my building with two other Marines on the staff and pull up cheap plastic chairs for a smoke. For an hour we talk about everything from home to life after the Corps to cigars themselves. It’s pure relaxation…most of the time.

Last week “Top” (a master sergeant) and I climbed up on the roof and quickly decided it was too cold and too windy to stay up on the roof. So, we climbed down and sat in a couple of chairs on the ground nearby and lit up.

The chairs we sat down in are up next to some concrete barriers designed to protect buildings from blasts, as long as the blasts are on the right side. I had just started to draw deep on the cigar when the incoming siren began to scream. The warning system is phenomenal and gives us about twenty seconds advance notice of an attack. I stood up disgustedly and said “I am NOT wasting a good cigar” and rather than ditching my cigar to run into the building, I walked a few feet and stood between two nearby blast barriers that are at least 8 feet tall and 4 foot thick at the bottom.

I turned to Top and said “if it gets us it’s just our time” and we both laughed. Then ‘WHUMP!” the distinctive sound of incoming impacting nearby. “Damn, that was close” Top said matter-of-factly, followed a few seconds later by two more impacts that appeared to be a bit further away. Knowing that insurgents never launch more than a few rounds before they run we waited a few minutes then sat back down and finished our cigars. The first round impacted about 100 yards from where stood, but plenty of protective barriers stood between us and it so we were never in danger.