David blogged July 8

David checked in by phone and by blog on Sunday. He was almost light-hearted about his "Saddam's Revenge," a reaction to bad local water. He After I talked to him on the phone, I wondered if I should have been more worried, but because he trained as an EMT, so he knows enough to know when to get medical treatment, and not play the tough guy. Still, it's not fun, and I'm glad he has some time off this week to recover.

I haven't blogged much this last week, partly because of work and partly because David's blogs have been so thorough and evocative. But I also find that the sense of crisis mode I had when David first went to Iraq has dissipated somewhat, the way the inevitable 9/11 mood faded. The wave after wave of Google alerts listing bombings, casualties, Iraqi and American politics, and most of all, other bloggers commenting with varying levels of insight (or idiocy) and political angles has become numbing.

And that numbness is both deceptive and disarming. I am sitting 10,000 miles away from Iraq, and it's easy to be swept away in the daily detritus of my job of newspaper deadlines, of Paris Hilton and Scooter Libby stories (played equally and more prominently on broadcast media than the war), family issues and even in the cultivation of my terrace garden. But in Iraq, people lives are at best, greatly disrupted, at worst, torn apart.

Still, it is inevitable that we -- David, Craig and I -- have all adapted to this "crisis." We wait for the phone calls and blog entries; we send packages, wait for them to arrive. As a parent, I am trying to adapt to a situation of the adult child telling me it's all in day's work to drink bad water -- offered by a local resident in good faith and hospitality -- and to suffer its consequences. It's all in a day's work to bang down a stranger's door and take over the home -- and feel bad about it, but knowing it is necessary for this campaign. It's all in a day's work to know that someone is shooting at you, but what you recall at the end of the day is a little girl's smile.

Regarding David's July 4 blog entry, the cynic in me was surprised that the Iraqis welcomed the American Army to take over their homes. But given their situation, what else could they do? Al Quaeda took over Baquba with Taliban-like strictness, even forbidding smoking, which is much more common there, and then kicked people out of their homes so they could rig them up as bombs. Of course, they sincerely welcome the next wave of invaders who will destroy the bombs and get rid of the invaders. But our guys can't stay too long, because it is human to say within their hearts: "Get the hell out all of you and leave us in peace."

It has nothing to do with how our people handle the people -- although how they behave will be remembered for many years after -- but just the weariness of war.

I think I've rambled on enough.

Into the breach

David called at 5:45 a.m. today. I woke up immediately to a half-ring, groggily trying to remember if it was the sound of the phone or Craig's alarm clock. He had already gotten up and picked up the phone.

He had two pieces of news. His platoon's time in the reserves, of holding perimeters and running food and water to civilians, is over; he is going into throes of battle in Baquaba, clearing houses and searching for insurgents -- and enormous, hidden IEDs planted throughout the town. His first shift began later tonight -- three days on, one day off -- so we should not expect to hear from as often.

I asked him something along the lines if his job was nerve-wracking.

He interrupted: "Not nerve-wracking. I've just had to learn a lot in a short amount of time."

Just over three weeks ago, we were hiking through the forests of Mt. Rainer National Park; now he is responsible for the lives of 21 men, for a mission and dealing with a hostile human and physical environment.

The contrast rolls one's brain in circles.

I try to say something that is supportive but not suffocating, or to ask even good questions, but I am so glad to hear his voice that I can't think. Craig is better at this than I am; he even remembers to take notes so we remember exactly what to get him.

He asks for a few personal items, and then gives the second piece of news: A camera crew from NBC News filmed his staff sergeant during their humanitarian mission. He thought might be on tonight's (June 27) broadcast of "NBC Nightly News" so he wanted us to look for it.

It wasn't; but we'll keep looking, and I'll post a link or try downloading the clip from MSNBC and post it here when it happens.

He didn't seem to think he'll be in it; still it will give us a view, however slight, into his world.

The TV news distracts me from thinking about his changing assignment and he carefully and casually mentions it, underplaying it. Or, maybe I overplay it.

This is what he came for, what he trained for, what his officer training was all about. Still, it must be bigger, dirtier, more uncertain than any training could give him. I fear for him, not because he is incapable or untrained, but because the risk is greater and shaped by an opponent who uses his cunning to fit his ideology -- as we all do.

Except this enemy builds IEDs, and we use tanks and artillery.