There are varying levels of interest in photography. There are folks who love it so much they do it professionally. There are the “Polaroid moms” who can’t resist taking a picture of the kids at least once a day – little Abby eating green Jello – Michael Jr. hugging the cat. There are the Photoshop geeks. And there is an Army of digital camera hobbyists, which I am a member of, who take pictures in odd clusters – 20 in one day, then nothing for a month.
It’s no different out here. Some soldiers take pictures of everything. Some just take pictures of what they consider unique- things they don’t think they’ll ever see back home, like Palaces, or Iraqi children, or themselves behind a .50 caliber machine gun looking like a battle-hardened steely-eyed killer. But it’s interesting when there’s a beautiful sunset. I see a lot of my fellow soldiers pulling out their digital cameras to capture it, though pictures rarely do a sunset justice. Don’t get me wrong. A sunset is a wonderful thing to behold, and even more so when it happens to take on colors and formations that really rest upon the retina with a splendor it’s impossible to deny. But we’ve all seen thousands. And we’ll presumably see thousands more.
It reminds me of that movie “Smoke,” when the guy takes a picture of a busy street corner in front of his smoke shop every single day at the exact same time for decades. When he shows a friend, the friend says “They’re all the same.” But upon further consideration, he realizes how poignant the photo album really is, and how each day is in fact unique and even sees some people he recognized, that have died in the years since the photo was taken.
The sunsets out here can be like that. Most days, you don’t even notice the conversion from light to dark. The light is irrelevant - its strength superfluous to what you’re working on. But sometimes it catches your eye, especially one like tonight when the orange looks like melted copper spreading across the horizon in a river of floating lava, playing hide and seek with the moon across the smooth curvature of the earth.
Years from now, they’ll look at the picture, and it will just seem like one of a million beautiful sunsets. But it won’t be. It’s a sunset from when you were deployed in Iraq, and it takes on a special meaning, carries more weight somehow. For the rest of your life, you’ll probably never be in this place again, looking at the sunset from this perspective, either geographically or mentally. Others might look at it and say “Oh, that’s pretty.” But you’ll know it was more than that. You will remember taking the picture on a particular day, and you may very well use the quality of life you had back then as a barometer by which to judge just how bad something really is.
The pictures will help you remember your combat experience, which I think is important, because once you’ve gone to war, what else in life can really match the endless tests of patience, courage, physical fatigue, sleep deprivation, stress, and camaraderie? I think we’ll be able to handle more than we ever thought possible, conquer obstacles once insurmountable. Yes, the work is satisfying. But the experience of being here will be al the sweeter once it is an artifact of the past – a conversation at a party – a dream sequence in the documentary of your life.
I took a lot of pictures today. Part of it was because I happened to have my digital camera with me. Part of it is the ever-growing anticipation that I will be departing this eyesore of a base sometime in the next few months. I want pictures to help me remember, so that I can counterpose living on this FOB with life hereafter, making it seem eternally richer. Oh, it’s not so bad. You make the best of it. You have food, shelter, clothing, "recreational facilities," the internet, movies, video games, books.
But let’s be honest, shall we? The “suck factor” outweighs satisfaction – the cons kill the pros. Of course you’d rather complete the mission and be in your own home with nothing but a box of crackers and a bean bag couch than live here with every ammenity under the sun. Having a bad day, soldier? Think the world is being too hard on you? Just pull out your photo album from the year you spent living on a Forward Operating Base in the Sunni Triangle.
“A good snapshot stops a moment from running away.” - Eudora Welty
This is so breathtaking and so profound, I can say little more except
perhaps, always keep writing. When your world lies beyond the FOB and
Iraq, please continue to give your readers the opportunity to savor what
you portray in so unique a fashion. Meanwhile, stay safe in your world of
today.
So picturesque and beautiful. You make images and even emotions come alive
with your words. Keep on writing! And please stay safe while you're at it.
=)
I love to read your entries! Your words evoke such strong images, I almost
feel as though I am where you are! It's amazing how you are able to make
even a barren desert seem mysterious and beautiful. Soon the world around
you will be just a memory! Keep looking forward and stay safe, Lt.!
Great post Lt. K. Your writing is so visual. A difficult task. I think that
you and all your fellow troops who blog and can take the time occasionally
in the middle of war to make such a post are quite remarkable. It shows
your resilience and abiility to hold onto those things important in life
during difficult times. These are the things that make the difference in
times of extreme duress. We folks back home can learn a lot from you all.
Thank you for all that you do. I feel honored to know you even in this
limited medium!
LT K,
Great reading as always! Your insightful writings allow greater
understanding of what's taking place in a land that is most often very
difficult for us here in the USA to understand.
Keep up the great work, watch your 6 and looking forward to the DX.
73s, Military Affilate Radio System Station -AAM8TUT, Utah
I came across your entry "Sunset" in "The Sandbox" and it transported me to
your world for a few minutes. My son is in A'stan now and his unit
regularly posts pics on their myspace page. There are a few of the sunsets
as seen from the FOB and I saved one of them as my screensaver. When I
read your description of the colors of the sunset, it made me think of how
much my son and I enjoyed watching the sunsets on the Pacific Coast and it
comforts me to know there is such beauty to enjoy across the world. Thank
you for your service and for documenting your experiences so beautifully.
21BMom, CA