Wednesday, July 13, 2005

American Graffiti

The dirt road cuts between two farms, dividing the fields of pale green scrub brush and tall willowy palms. On other side of the road, deep canals run north to south, the murky water slowly filtering through the muddy silt and reeds. A yellow brick wall borders the north side of the road, defining the property line of one of the small farms and curving outward to match the run of the road.

On the yellow brick wall, the black spray-painted scrawl in Arabic seems to shimmer in the afternoon heat.

I turn to my interpreter, who is standing next to me with his hands on his hips.

“Spider, what does this graffiti say?”

Spider looks around briefly and then pulls his mask off. His face turns thoughtful as he considers the writing.

Finally he grimaces.

“It says, ‘May Allah bless the brave warriors and martyrs that fight the Americans in Fallujah. May Allah bring death to all Americans and their lackeys.’”

Oh really.

I turn and walk a few meters to my HMMWV which is staged on the south side of the road. My gunner is pulling security, but he turns briefly to throw me a questioning glance as I lift open the heavy hatch on the rear of the HMMWV. Rooting around in the trunk of the vehicle, I toss aside bottles of water, Meals-Ready-to-Eat, and rucksacks filled with gear until I find what I am looking for.

I walk over to Spider, and hand him a black can of spray-paint.

“Give me a hand painting over this shit.”

Quickly we spray-paint black lines vertically and horizontally over the Arabic. The propaganda disappears under a thin sheen of high-gloss black spray enamel.

Stepping back and looking at my work with a critical eye, I realize that something is missing.

Turning to Spider, I give him his instructions.

Slowly, a smile forms on his face and he nods his head as he gets to work, his can of paint flashing in the setting sun while he carves out bold, black Arabic letters on the yellow wall.

Satisfied with his work, he gives me a nod, and I turn and wave my right hand in a circle above my head, giving the signal for the patrol to mount up.

As the soldiers in the patrol pull back from the road and pile into their HMMWVs, I can tell they are wondering what exactly it is that Spider has just spray-painted in Arabic on the wall.

Getting back into my vehicle, my gunner leans down thru the hatch and grins.

“Sir, what does it say?”

I can’t help but grin back.

Keying the handset for my platoon frequency, I answer the question on everybody’s mind.

“Alright guys, listen up. Just something I wanted the insurgents that wrote that shit to think about. It’s an old Iraqi saying. It says:

‘We are watching you, and you can never hide. Like the eyes-of-god, we never sleep.’

Signed, the U.S. Army.”

4 Comments:

Blogger Laura said...

Adam,
Megan's Mom here just want you to know that we are so proud of you and your team of guys,we really look forward to your updates, stay safe Laura Harmon

11:56 AM  
Anonymous Bill Back in DC said...

Adam

Glad to hear that you're OK, and keeping your sense of humor.

After "A Long Day" and "The Routine," it was nice to have an entry that wasn't as heart-stopping ...

Stay safe.

Bill McGrath

12:09 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I second that emotion from Bill!

Next time don't forget good old "Kilroy was here". You know the guy with the big nose and eyes peeking over the line...

Keep your wits about you,
Mum

8:17 PM  
Anonymous Margo said...

Haha Nice one Adam. xoxo Margo

9:34 AM  

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