thedrifter
11-12-08, 08:01 AM
’’Tis the mud season
Grand Junction Free Press, CO
Capt. Esteban “Ted” Vickers,
RAMADI, Iraq — Throughout the past 10 months of my deployment I have witnessed numerous changes in Iraq. I have seen the rise of a stable democratic political system that is about to have yet another election. I have seen violence levels drop drastically. I have seen the Iraqi Security Forces step up and function as independently operating combat units. I have seen the once “unwinnable” Anbar province, a former bastion for the insurgency, become a model for stability in the region; I thought I had seen it all. That was until the end of October.
Throughout my career as a Marine I have traveled all over the world and lived in seven different states. I have seen harsh winters, hot summers, hurricanes, tsunamis, mudslides and wildfires; if it’s a climatic change or harsh climate, I have probably witnessed it. But in Ramadi, Iraq, I came upon a season that I have never had the unfortunate pleasure of experiencing and that is the “Mud Season.” For anyone who has lived in the Northeast like I did for four years, I understand you have a “mud” season, but it pales in comparison to the one here.
The first day we arrived, it snowed; some say it was the first time in 100 years, but if you know how Iraqis like to exaggerate it was probably closer to 10. Then within a week it started to get hot, then really hot, then unbearably hot, then it got hotter. Then, like a scene out of “Forrest Gump,” it stopped. It stopped being hot and started raining; we did not have big fat rain, sideways rain and rain that seemed to come up like the movie, just a constant shower or two every day for a few weeks, but its aftermath was just as impressive.
Our camp lies just feet from the Euphrates River, therefore the water table sits about two inches below the ground. Needless to say when it rains, all the rainfall does not seep into the ground, it just sits there mixing with the powder-like sand to create a sticky clay substance that wreaks a quicksand-like havoc on its victims. Nowhere is the mud more abundant than on the mile-long road that the Marines of Regimental Combat Team 1 must traverse to get to the dining facility.
At first I rather enjoyed my walk to the dining facility. The Task Force that is responsible for maintaining the camp had made a nice dirt and gravel road that connected Regimental Combat Team 1’s headquarters and the dining facility. It goes right by the PX (store) and close to the post office and laundry services. Basically it was a one-stop shop. Unlike Fallujah, Ramadi is host to people from all over the world. Numerous TCNs (Third Country Nationals) or LNs (Local Nationals) work and live aboard Camp Ramadi. It is not uncommon on a walk to the dining facility to hear people speaking Swahilli, Luganda, Arabic, Bahasa Indonesia, numerous Eastern European languages and a few more that I can’t seem to figure out. I swear I think we have about 90 percent of the countries in the world represented here; I am pretty sure I saw some Sherpa on my way back from the PX the other day. I truly enjoyed my daily walks to the dining facility — that was until the mud came.
Now the walk to the dining facility reminds me more of a Nintendo game than a leisurely stroll. Marines, numerous Local and Third Country Nationals dodging mud holes, jumping over puddles, hopping from wooden pallet to wooden pallet over temporary rain-soaked lakes of mud, tiptoeing across cement barriers in a futile atempt to keep from sinking knee deep in the treacherous mud. I am sure it would be a very humorous sight if I was not amongst the group attempting to keep from falling face first into the mud.
The arrival of mud season is just one of the many unexpected entities that have occurred during our deployment. However, I can honestly say that the Marines of Regimental Combat Team 1 have not only persevered, they have thrived in this ever evolving environment. Even with our tour of duty now in its 10th month, spirits are high, we have a mission to accomplish, and despite the hardships the Marines continue to do an outstanding job. I am continually impressed by the young men and women of Regimental Combat Team 1. I look forward to the remainder of my deployment with them. And the mud season, well, at least it’s not hot.
Capt. Esteban “Ted” Vickers is a Marine currently serving with Regimental Combat Team 1 in Fallujah, Iraq. He is a 1994 graduate of Fruita Monument High School and is a Fruita resident.
Ellie
Grand Junction Free Press, CO
Capt. Esteban “Ted” Vickers,
RAMADI, Iraq — Throughout the past 10 months of my deployment I have witnessed numerous changes in Iraq. I have seen the rise of a stable democratic political system that is about to have yet another election. I have seen violence levels drop drastically. I have seen the Iraqi Security Forces step up and function as independently operating combat units. I have seen the once “unwinnable” Anbar province, a former bastion for the insurgency, become a model for stability in the region; I thought I had seen it all. That was until the end of October.
Throughout my career as a Marine I have traveled all over the world and lived in seven different states. I have seen harsh winters, hot summers, hurricanes, tsunamis, mudslides and wildfires; if it’s a climatic change or harsh climate, I have probably witnessed it. But in Ramadi, Iraq, I came upon a season that I have never had the unfortunate pleasure of experiencing and that is the “Mud Season.” For anyone who has lived in the Northeast like I did for four years, I understand you have a “mud” season, but it pales in comparison to the one here.
The first day we arrived, it snowed; some say it was the first time in 100 years, but if you know how Iraqis like to exaggerate it was probably closer to 10. Then within a week it started to get hot, then really hot, then unbearably hot, then it got hotter. Then, like a scene out of “Forrest Gump,” it stopped. It stopped being hot and started raining; we did not have big fat rain, sideways rain and rain that seemed to come up like the movie, just a constant shower or two every day for a few weeks, but its aftermath was just as impressive.
Our camp lies just feet from the Euphrates River, therefore the water table sits about two inches below the ground. Needless to say when it rains, all the rainfall does not seep into the ground, it just sits there mixing with the powder-like sand to create a sticky clay substance that wreaks a quicksand-like havoc on its victims. Nowhere is the mud more abundant than on the mile-long road that the Marines of Regimental Combat Team 1 must traverse to get to the dining facility.
At first I rather enjoyed my walk to the dining facility. The Task Force that is responsible for maintaining the camp had made a nice dirt and gravel road that connected Regimental Combat Team 1’s headquarters and the dining facility. It goes right by the PX (store) and close to the post office and laundry services. Basically it was a one-stop shop. Unlike Fallujah, Ramadi is host to people from all over the world. Numerous TCNs (Third Country Nationals) or LNs (Local Nationals) work and live aboard Camp Ramadi. It is not uncommon on a walk to the dining facility to hear people speaking Swahilli, Luganda, Arabic, Bahasa Indonesia, numerous Eastern European languages and a few more that I can’t seem to figure out. I swear I think we have about 90 percent of the countries in the world represented here; I am pretty sure I saw some Sherpa on my way back from the PX the other day. I truly enjoyed my daily walks to the dining facility — that was until the mud came.
Now the walk to the dining facility reminds me more of a Nintendo game than a leisurely stroll. Marines, numerous Local and Third Country Nationals dodging mud holes, jumping over puddles, hopping from wooden pallet to wooden pallet over temporary rain-soaked lakes of mud, tiptoeing across cement barriers in a futile atempt to keep from sinking knee deep in the treacherous mud. I am sure it would be a very humorous sight if I was not amongst the group attempting to keep from falling face first into the mud.
The arrival of mud season is just one of the many unexpected entities that have occurred during our deployment. However, I can honestly say that the Marines of Regimental Combat Team 1 have not only persevered, they have thrived in this ever evolving environment. Even with our tour of duty now in its 10th month, spirits are high, we have a mission to accomplish, and despite the hardships the Marines continue to do an outstanding job. I am continually impressed by the young men and women of Regimental Combat Team 1. I look forward to the remainder of my deployment with them. And the mud season, well, at least it’s not hot.
Capt. Esteban “Ted” Vickers is a Marine currently serving with Regimental Combat Team 1 in Fallujah, Iraq. He is a 1994 graduate of Fruita Monument High School and is a Fruita resident.
Ellie