Reaching over to silence the alarm clock, I couldn’t believe it was already morning. It seemed like I had just gone to bed and I just didn’t want to get up yet. Perhaps it was time to give up drinking those late night cups of coffee!

Oh well, time to get moving, so feet on the floor, throw on a uniform, lace up the boots, and head out to the morning guard mount. Today, I was riding with the crew of “one-two-Delta” and we had a long day ahead of us. I joined up with the crew right at 0600 after assembling my necessary belongings.

As usual, the body armor always feels extra heavy in the morning. The protective plates are heavy and quite fatiguing but absolutely necessary. I wouldn’t think of leaving the “wire” without them. I’m one of the lucky ones, as my frame is big enough to carry the weight along with my medical bag and my M4. The medical bag is equipped with various bandages, IV starting kits, bags of fluids and tourniquets. These are the tools of my trade, and it goes without saying that I hope to have a very boring “day at the office.”

After a quick “intel” report and the standard “rules of engagement, escalation of force” briefing, it’s off to the chow hall where a great big deep cup of “Joe” (coffee) is waiting for me. This morning I am surprised to see an old favorite being served at the chow line, S.O.S., or you may know it as, “stuff … on a shingle,” creamed beef on toast, an ageless tradition for countless veterans. The main entry was heaped in a large pile on my plate along with a sausage and a rectangular piece of hash browns. The hash browns aren’t scattered, smothered, covered, or chunked though, dadgumit!

To my right sits SRA Tykeshia Smith from Augusta, Ga., across from me A1C Logan Porter from Payson, Utah, to his left is A1C Anthony Scott from Fayetteville, N.C. This is the crew of one-two-Delta that I will be on patrol with today, made up of fine young Americans, all half my age. I wonder if the parents of the airmen in one-two-Delta know how courageous their sons and daughters have become?

All too soon it is “saddle up and time to roll.” A brief stop at the clearing barrels where rounds are loaded in our weapons, then it’s off to our assigned sector of responsibility. I’m already feeling that I probably shouldn’t have had that second cup of coffee. A ride down a country road in Iraq is slightly different then a ride from Valdosta, Ga., up to Lakeland for dinner at the local Huddle House. The hardball road surface fades away to be replaced by the desert sand of Iraq. There are small dunes and sparsely scattered low lying shrubs as far as the eye can see. Slowly moving through the desert terrain, I continuously scan the area looking for anything that might seem out of order. Running hurriedly across the dirt road in front of us is the biggest lizard I have ever seen. This cotton-picking thing is at least two-feet long, and from the looks of it, a fairly mean booger as well. I quickly wonder if he would be edible. Maybe fried lizard with some collards and fried okra? We obviously can’t stop to chase that thing but we all get a chuckle imagining the possible culinary opportunities. Moments later, off in the distance to our immediate right is a herd of camels. Some are big and some are small, some are old, and some are young. Now I can’t claim to be an expert on camels, but by the looks of them, I don’t think they would do well in a rodeo over in Brooks County or succeed at pulling a wagon for the Flatlanders Festival up in Lakeland. Truth be told, the camels remind me of the coloring book handouts I used to get in Sunday school as a child many years ago.

We stop at a place known as the “canyons” for noon chow. It’s a neat place to see. Littered about the area are an old Soviet-era tank and an armored personnel carrier supposedly destroyed back during Desert Storm. I break out an envelope containing a large piece of marinated salmon for lunch while the others eat MREs (meals-ready-to-eat). Their lunches smell pretty good, while mine immediately smells up our Humvee with the decidedly delightful odor of a freshly opened can of cat food!

While we eat our meals, a huge dust storm comes literally out of nowhere. The blue sky, there only moments ago, is now completely overtaken with thick stinging sand and dust. Visibility is reduced to less than 50 feet and the wind is picking up. Standing outside the armored vehicle, I have to brace myself against the strong sudden gusts. This was the fastest growing sand storm I have seen since arriving in Iraq.

After noon chow, we continue on our patrol this time passing along side a brightly painted black-and-yellow fence-like structure nicknamed the “bumble bee” by the airmen. This “fence” runs along the Kuwait/Iraq border for miles and an interesting feeling comes over me as I look over the fence into another country. The thought occurs to me that this terrain we are standing on was among the sites where the liberation of Kuwait took place.

We continue on our way driving through the dust storm, knowing full well that though the day is almost over, another day awaits us on a dirt road in Iraq. It was as I had hoped — a boring day at the office, interrupted only by a lizard, a few camels and a dust storm. Not a bad day for getting out and driving down a dirt road … just wish it was back in Georgia.

Write Lt. Col. GS Laffitte at Lt. Col. GS Laffitte, Camp Bucca, 887th E.S.F.S., APO AE 09375; or e-mail greg.laffitte@gmail.com