Carpe Diem

   The screensaver on my classified computer says Carpe Diem in rolling text.  It means “seize the day,” which I have been trying to do. Day or night don’t mean as much here. You just do what needs to be done, the angle of the sun with the horizon and their juxtaposition to the earth notwithstanding. Dawn and dusk are simply nouns, nothing more. They frame the days and mark time. If work needs to be done or if there is a problem with some communications equipment that hinders the mission at hand- we simply do it. There is no such thing as overtime when you work every day of the week. We have been pretty lucky so far. After a long day, you are pretty likely to get a decent night’s sleep (if you can sleep fitfully here, which I have a hard time doing probably due to the constant kinetic energy in the air, the omni-present threat of something exploding).

   So I wake up, get dressed, and walk out of my room. Often there are actually birds chirping, the sky is bright and sunny, and lately there has even been a semi-cool breeze. I put one foot in front of the other until I am standing before the mirror in the shower trailer. I like to take my showers at night, so in the morning all I have to do is shave, brush my teeth, and splash water on my face to wake up.

    I then walk back to my room and sit down to write in my journal. I do this in longhand, because it’s relaxing and I’m a geek and it reminds me of Sir Phillip Sidney, the quintessential warrior poet. I write all of my thoughts down, do a total brain dump. I usually get some idea in my head about a story I’m working on, pull out my binder and write a couple of pages, then realize what time it is and kick myself for not getting up earlier to write like I promised myself the night before. There is a pattern here. My passion for the craft of writing in almost all its forms is quite strong, yet I am enough of a procrastinator and a proverbial slacker that I don’t discipline my writing. It comes in bursts.

   By now I am grabbing my sunglasses, drinking a protein shake (because like most of us here I want to leave here in great shape, so I’ve been hitting the gym), putting on my backpack, strapping my M-16 across my shoulder, hitting the lights, and officially stepping out into the day. This morning on the 4 minute walk to my office I called one of my guys on the radio and asked, “Do you guys want me to pick up some donuts?” The reply I received was “Uh, sure, sir.” Either the radio transmitted my voice as garbled, and he missed the total hilarity of my question, or it just wasn’t funny, which is much more likely.

   I get to the office, and I log onto to both my classified and unclassified computers to start running system checks on other workstations in the network that are moody. While doing this, I usually grub down on a banana nut muffin which I grabbed from the chow hall the day before. They pretty much let you take all the food you want out of the chow hall, which is nice, but not really germane to this line of thought, so I'll move on.

   There are usually “Hey sirs,” and “Mornin’ you guys” all around. I now have my computers running, maybe some music playing in the background, multiple lists before me for de-conflicting and transcription of one to the next (for more thoughts on making lists, click here), and the issues begin. The phone starts ringing, e-mails are followed up by personal visits or calls on the hand-held radio, and we all jump into the work with gusto.

   Lunch is a brief respite. We eat and then sit for just a few minutes (not many) chewing on toothpicks and enjoying the moment. Then we get back to it. Meetings, coordination, planning, putting out fires, as we like to call those small persistent issues that always seem to come up when you least expect them, and suddenly it's time for dinner. After dinner the sun is usually a deep crimson that you can stare at without hurting your eyes. It’s nice.

   We start winding down by nightfall, probably because it’s ingrained in our collective American psyches. Some days we even sit outside the office on beach chairs for a few minutes and drink near-beer (again, from the chow hall). But many times there is still much to be done, so you just keep slogging away. We don’t complain. There is always someone working just as hard or harder than you are. It’s our job to support the Battalion, and we’re proud to do it.

   At the end of the workday I try to make sure I have a good forecast of the main issues and projects for the next 24 to 48. Once a week I get all my soldiers together for a synchronization meeting. In other words, we make sure we’re all on the same sheet of music. I try to e-mail and go to the phone center to call home every couple of days.

   So, this is an average day for me in Iraq. Of course, this is not all the time. In fact, it’s not even a lot of the time. But when a day actually begins and ends with some modicum of normalcy, and entropy can be held at bay, this is how I seize it, and why my screensaver exists, to remind me to make the best of it, here in my little microcosm of Iraq - a modern battlefield in an ancient Holy Land.

"May you live every day of your life."

                                   -Jonathan Swift

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