the Sandbox

I read a quote in the bathroom the other day, “At least it ain’t snowin” I laughed, and had to agree. That is the only thing that could make this worse. Although in the morning it feels cold enough for snow. You dread crawling out of your sleeping bag to face the chill of the morning air.

Last week we were called out of the berm to take a look at the Brit’s transportation. They had all of their trucks set up with a commando to tell us what they were, and what they were used for. We didn’t really pay as much attention to their lectures as to their accents. “Lad” this “Bloody” that “The bloke over there”

I thought Brits were supposed to be civil and proper with their language, but it was as filthy as the marines. Heavy trading commenced amongst us all.

“ll give you my beret for that Gerber, there, mate.” K-Bars and Gerber Tools are gold to the British.

“My mother gave me this, and I’m quite fond of it.”

“Alright mate, don’t tell the lads over there. But I’ll give you my blouse and beret.”

“Deal.”

We came up to a vehicle with tracks on it. It towed a trailer with tracks, as well. The man standing outside of it says, “This here, mates, was made for the snow in Norway. Don’t ask me why we brought it to the desert. It has a Mercedes engine in it, but don’t be fooled. She’s an English piece of shit. She goes 50 kilos an hour on land, about 3 in the water. You know you plug up the holes, put a stove on the back, you cast a line off the side, and then go home and tell the wifey you been... Anyways, mates, who wants to go for a ride?”

Five of us hopped in and he climbed in the driver’s seat. “Upa, here we go. Whoooo, ha, hee hee...Goin’ for a spin in the desert, mates,” he was yelling above the roar of the engine.

“Whoooo, ha, don’t know what bloody bloke decided to bring this piece of shit to the fucking desert. I’d like to shoot the bastard myself, mates. Whoooo, ha, let’s go up that berm there. See how long it takes the sentry to shoot at us. Might start an international incident, ay mates.”

We were all staring at each other, and then we began to laugh. He stopped the vehicle and jumped out.

“I get tired of driving this piece of shit, you drive,” he said pointing to one of the marines.

The marine jumped in the driver’s seat. “There you go, mate. D stands for drive, then press on the gas, upa, whoooo, ha, now you’re getting the hang of it.”

The marine pulled a u turn and simultaneously opened the window because it was hot. All kinds of sand blew in.

“What are you doing, mate? Let’s open the bloody window to get more sand in here. I tell you what’s funny, mate. You put some powder in the heater and the next bloke who turns on the heater gets covered. Then he says, ‘Who put the powder in the bloody heater?’ I say people got a lame sense of humor, mate. Where you from?”

“Texas.”

“Texas. Should have figured. You drive like you’re trying to chase cattle. No horses out here, mate! Take her home. There you go, aim for that group of people. Oh yeah, better yet, aim for your staff sergeant. I bet the platoon would love that,” he said we nearly ran the platoon over.

They come over every now and then to trade with us. We love their sense of humor. They love our American games, like football.

A couple of days ago we had another bad sandstorm. I stepped out of the shower trailer, the wind caught the door and flung it open, nearly taking me with it. We have gotten to the point where we like sandstorms. There is nothing we can do about them so we just relax in our tents. I laid in all morning reading my book and listening to the wind ruffle the nylon tent.

At lunch I walked to medical with an MRE. I found a comfortable seat under the canvas tent. Only 3 other people were there. We exchanged insults in the form of greetings. Then began eating. The coffee was brewing in the corner. I grabbed a cup and sat down to some meat loaf and gravy.

“This is like a snow day. School’s shut down for the day,” I said over my meatloaf.

“You’re right, brother. Except snow melts,” Book replied through the cloth that was wrapped around his face to keep from inhaling too much sand. “This sand just gets everywhere...your hair, your food, coffee, underwear.”

I looked into my coffee with a layer of sand on top, floating to the bottom. “You’re right on there,” I said, taking a drink anyway.

Medical has become a nice getaway. They are constantly making trips to the main camp. You give them $20 and they will come back with the essentials. Batteries, chips, cookies, Cokes. All of these are what we miss the most. If you have a bag of Doritos, you are rich, and can trade them for anything. The other night they even had pizza. The night before that the chow hall had given up a box of cake and a couple of gallons of apple juice to say thanks for our services. I don’t like to go there to eat cake, and cookies, or drink Coke. My marines don’t have those hookups. But when I can snag some food for them, I do.

I really go there for the light. The sun goes down well before 6 o’clock. Most people go to sleep. If you sleep 12 hours a day then deployment is just 3 months long. But I can only sleep so much. So I go to the medical because they have a generator. I can sip on coffee and read or write. Those simple pleasures that pass the time.

I walked back through the stinging sand. The sun was high in the sky and looked like a silver dollar. When I got back to the tent a little dune had built up all around it. My ammo box with my books in it was already covered up halfway. I opened the tent and half the sand blew in. Everyone is bundled up and you open the flap and the sand gets everywhere.

I now understand some things about the desert. I read a book called “Into the Wild”. It is about a boy who roams around America in search of answers to questions of the soul. He spent a lot of time in the California desert. The author brings up an interesting point. Since the beginning of time men have travelled to the desert in search of spirituality. The prophets, Jesus...and he lists many other men. If you have never known patience before, then the desert will teach it to you, or it will drive you crazy.

We get 3 meals a day but even those are in small portions. People are withering away. The nights are extremely cold, and the days just as uncomfortable. Even on calm days the sand blows in your eyes and between your teeth. I found myself getting angry and irritable with constant discomfort. I don’t complain, because we are all feeling the same. But it is those conditions that irritate me, that cause me to slow down, breathe, and say, “Patience.”

Now they don’t bother me, and I know when I return to a luxurious life in the states there will be no conditions that will push me to the point where I need to remind myself. So there are benefits to this time, my fears have subsided. I am now ready for the road ahead and stand ready and confident for the uncertainty that awaits. I have become close with my marines, even those who I have conflicted with. I feel that they look up to me again, and it runs both ways. We don’t know how long we will be here, we are told mid to late May.