Explosive sounds!

November 09, 2004

Jets have rumbled through the skies over Baghdad for the better part of a week now, on the way to drop bombs on Fallujah or heading back to base after lightening their loads.

We’ve heard booms and seen flashes in the west for days. The battle is about as far away from us at Forward Operating Base Gunslinger as Conway is from Little Rock.

There’s been no secret about the air assault on the Sunni stronghold, but yesterday the booms were almost constant.

Sure, some are roadside bombs on Baghdad streets. Others are blasts done by bomb experts destroying the day’s find.

But some are Fallujah.

Today, the booms lessened as the air assault backed off as ground troops moved in.

The booms haven’t stopped here at Forward Operating Base Gunslinger, however.

Four of them rocked this place this morning.

The first mortar round hit about 9 a.m. as I laced up my boots. Moments later the second one hit — I stood in the middle of the room. Then a third — I headed to the hallway.

By the time the fourth round hit, I was back on my cot under a blanket. All four mortars fell within a minute, which is about normal.

I find that most times it’s best to just ride these things out in the most comfortable place you can find.

That happens to be my cot and the very tacky yet fuzzy blanket I bought at a local shop to keep me warm.

So there I lay, boots and all, waiting for the end of the booms.

I thought fondly of the sandbags lining the wall of windows in my 3rd floor room.

And then, as quickly as the mortar rounds stopped, the shouting began.

People ran through the halls in what sounded like a combination of combat boots and flip flops, yelling at each other to go back into their rooms or to put their body armor and helmet on.

There were shouts about where the mortar rounds hit, about an Iraqi being wounded and the sounds of shuffling feet.

I ran out to watch them carry the wounded to a Medevac helicopter. The horse that lives in the field must have had the same idea.

She stood and stared at the helicopter with her sidekicks — three white cranes that follow her everywhere. Sometimes they ride on her back.

Anyway, we all watched the Blackhawk take off and then I ventured across camp.

Everything, with the exception of the new battle scars in concrete walls and blast barriers, was back to normal.

Booms seem to be forgotten as quickly as they happen.

Posted by Amy at November 9, 2004 09:44 AM