Entry # 68: August 23, 2006

Camp Slayer, Baghdad, Iraq

Not many people know what it’s like to hear shots fired in anger. I must confess that I still don’t know. Though perhaps it was because of the ear plugs I was wearing on my last mission.

I got a phone call from my platoon sergeant regarding a QRF (quick response force) mission ordered by the brigade commander late last night around 2230. We were to track down a guy who had made death threats on one of the neighborhood chairmen because of his cooperation with coalition forces. So we went out in search of this fellow, tracking him down with our super sneaky methods. It was an interesting 6 hours, spent in the heart of Baghdad in the middle of the night. It was full of turns leading to roadblocks, narrow streets, and pot shots taken at our M1114 HMMVWs (these things are tanks on four wheels).

We were about an hour and a half into the search when I heard a clang against the other side of the HMMVW. It sounded like a piece of equipment had somehow freed itself and clanked against the door. However, it was a single 7.62 mm round.

“I think we just got shot at,” my driver responded with an air of incredulity. I looked at one of my Soldiers with a raised eyebrow. He looked at me with the same perplexing look. We were both combat virgins.

We didn’t return fire. Not exactly the thing to do in the middle of the night in a bad neighborhood, especially when you’re not sure where the shot came from. All in all, I’ve had more eventful rides in late-night taxi cabs than I did during this particular voyage, minus the gunshots. Somehow, I get the feeling this won’t be the last one that flies my way. I just hope I’ll be able to send a few of my own back at them. And so the Soldier’s life continues…