Got Me a Job

Written in Camp Speicher, Tikrit, Iraq sometime in 2004

I've got a job that pays me more money than I have ever made in my life counting inflation and I don't have to go to work. All I do is sit around. Its like a night watchman's job except I don't have to make any rounds or monitor a tv. I don't have to wear a uniform, I don't have to answer to anyone. I don't have to go to meetings, write reports. I don't have to do anything. Ok. I have to make a conference call once a day. If I miss it nothing is said. Hey! I couldn't get through. It's like I'm someplace all the time, but staying right here. I can mind travel all I want. sometimes I just sit and watch the horizon and think up interesting lies to tell during the conference. No work to concentrate on. Sometimes I fish all day. Other days I go to the beach. I'm reading my book in the middle of a sandy desert and if I were to get up and walk stright ahead I would eventually hit water, somewhere on the other side of Iran. Its a beach. My beach chair is just a bit further back from the tide line than most. To think that I used to do this for nothing: lie on the beach.

All day long I make up things to pass my time. I am studying for a Microsoft Certification. I am reading a lot of books. I do my own clothes rather than send them to the free laundry because it is something to do. I sit out on my porch and swat flies. I play chess once in a while. Its one of those jobs where I'm paid for what I know, not what I do. Paid for what you know? Consulting Physician, Psychanalyst? Theoretical physicist? Me? Its more like being paid for what I don't know. ts a job that no one else wants to do because of where it is. That is the only drawback. I'm a terror fighter in Iraq.

When I previously contracted to the Army I was a Commie fighter; protecting America against the ravenous Commie beast. Now I are keeping the world safe from terrorism.
We are all fighting terror over here. Just by being here I am doing my job. I owe Osama a lot. When I was working for the Army in Vietnam it was the commies that we were saving the world from. That wore kinda thin..and so now it is the terrorists. They are everywhere, just like the Commies used to be till their wall fell down and weren't any fun anymore. There is a lot of change to be made in fighting terrorism.

That is the bottom line. How much money can we make before the American People get sick of it. Ok. We have to sacrafice a few GIs, just like in Vietnam, but here it is only a few hundred rather than 60,000 killed by the enemy and another 60k that killed themselves after they grew up and realized the crimes they had comitted. Names that aren't on the Wall, but should be. The Army has toned down its operations over here recently. There is a Presidential Election coming up and this war is growing unpopular already. No operations above battalion level. Anything done at battalion level doesn't attract the attention of the national news. Brigade level stuff gets Rather's et.al attention. They need to stay below his and his ilks radar till after the election. They are still hunting Saddam. I think they have him hid out. If they find him there won't be a lot of excuse for us remaining here. Whooaa!Nickel Dripper.

One of the biggest nickel catchers here is Brown and Root. I think Lady Bird has ties with that company. Lyndon made sure he got a piece of the action by starting up the company. At least he had something to do with it.All the usual suspects are here with some name changes to protect the guilty. Dynelectron became DynCorps after the bad taste their participation in Vietnam left in everyone's mouth. Bush and Cheny and Conde are oil people and you had better believe they are getting their share. "Hey!" They said amongst themselves. "Lets get the ball rolling against Saddam because he's burning up our resources. We can save the worlds oil supply and make ourselves a barrel of bucks for our trouble. Who can we get to run for Pres? Hey Dwba. Who can we get to run for President?" Halliburton (which owns B & R now by the way) used to be owned by Cheny and they get contracts here without even having to bid.

So this is my last op to make any real money, thanks to Osama and Dwba,OH! and Ronnie Regan who made this possible by running the USSR broke. I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. If it weren't me it would be someone else hauling in the bucks. I'll stay here with my smiling mouth shut till they kick me out. Or for as long as I can stand it. Meantime..plink....plink, kach'ing.

Its hot here. I mean the temp tips 57C in August. The wind hits you like a knife. There is the dust. Lots of it. What the wind doesn't kick up the Army vehicles blow at you. Then there is always the odd dusting by a helicopter. You are dusty before you get back from the showers. Nothing to do here except study and read. No where to go. No recreation. Just sit and listen to the nickels drip. Drip, plink, drip plink. Into that deep hollow bank account. Like dropping a stone into a dark well and listening for it to hit the water. The longer I'm here the shorter that wait becomes. I wonder how much it is going to take to fill the well. Where there is nothing but a visible splash the nickel makes as it hits the surface.

Sometimes we have a/c. Right now the generator is down again. Its easily over 100 deg F. in the tent and no wind blowing. Its the middle of October. Things always get better here though because they can't get any worse. Our first campsite was Udahri in Kuwait. Hot, dusty, no a/c, portajohns full up to the brim and a line waiting to get into them. Absolute misery. Then we moved across the border to Tikrit. We are building shantys now and getting some semblance of civilization. We have movies, music and a little privacy. Still, I wouldn't be here except for the dripping nickels. This place is like Killeen, Tx in that there aren't many jet setters electing to retire here.

Haven't found any way to make extra money here yet. There might have been before all the fanatics we let go started mortaring and shooting us. Now its hard to get into town and do any business. Ears open though.

"Fact is the Cowboys is good for business" as Fred the Sheriff said in Tombstone. An evil bunch of shits but good for business. One of them killed him eventually. Dance with the Devil.