The Smartest People Here

The smartest guys here are the third-country nationals (TCN) that work for the contractor responsible for cleaning our bathroom trailers.

They wear masks when it is dusty out. We don't. I always comment on it. I never get a mask or a bandana or something.

It's not like major dust events surprise me. I'm the weather guy. I've been expecting this for days and told everyone else to expect it.

I was issued a bunch of bandana-like things that were called desert scarfs. I even brought one with me.

But it's still sealed in it's bag and sitting in my bag.

Maybe next time.

This can't be healthy.

Another threat to my health that I've signed up for is a Comabtives class that will be taught by one of the guys here. He's a certified instructor and will actually be able to award ratings. His one warning was that it would not be a gentlemen's class so we should prepare to be bruised and battered.

Good times.

I like our little bubble here. The conventional side of Balad has fast-food trailers and a movie theater. We have our gyms, range, and combatives room (and now an instructor able to make time to teach).

Besides, until our entertainment drive crashed, we could watch movies at work.

If they don't get that fixed soon, the network people may find themselves the objective of a unilateral American operation.

I'm also noticing that some of our troops are really really young.

One of the senior NCOs noticed a particularly baby-faced private and called him over. He asked this confused kid if his momma knew where he was.

The private smiled sheepishly and mumbled "Yes, sar'nt."



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Most importantly though, today is my sister's birthday. I'm on the phone with her now.

Hi.