This is Real

This morning was my first day working from the TV studio.  When I arrived Sergeant C., my trusty instructor, wasn’t there yet, so I sat in the semi-dark studio alone catching up on emails and other work.   (Note: the TV studio is tucked away from everyone else, and has a lock on the door so only people in the know - about 3 - can get in.)

As I sat there, they ran a duck and cover alarm drill – presumably to keep people in practice since we haven’t had a real one in over a week.  It reminded me of the same drill they ran yesterday. 

James and I were up in HR together when it went off, and James forgot it was a drill.  His face got very serious, he touched my shoulder and walked with great purpose over to his backpack to collect his things….and…to do I’m not sure what.  It was pretty funny to me because the last few days, whenever we walk outside, he asks me “Are you ready to run? You better be ready because I can’t run ahead of you and I want you to get there fast.”  And. He’s very serious.  And it was, yes, a little funny to see him react to what he thought was a real drill with that uber serious face and determined step.  I did tease Captain Safety a little, but I can appreciate his concern.

However, it’s been so quiet that I really haven’t felt any concern. 

And then it happened.

(Duck and Cover Bunker)

 About 20 or 30 minutes after the drill a real duck and cover alarm sounded.  At first I thought it was just another drill.  It wasn't.  Now I'm a little freaked out.

I looked around the dark studio, I walked over and looked at the locked door.  I walked back to my desk.  The alarm said to get away from windows and to a safe place.   We have a big window in the studio, but not an outside window.  I thought the studio must be safer than most places since it was insulated and central.  I also really wanted to see what others were doing, but I was afraid to open the door.  I didn’t know what others were doing.  All of this happened in about 5-10 seconds and I knew we only had less than 10 seconds to be where we wanted to be.  (Clearly making the U.S. a non-option at this point.)

At any rate, all these thoughts are going through my head, I’m feeling very alone and scared and thinking “is this how it goes down?” and I crawl under the desk…looking at the giant window and thinking:

1. I hope you (the window) don’t explode
2. Open your mouth!  I was supposed to cover my ears and open my mouth so the impact doesn’t concuss me.  But I keep forgetting to breathe through my mouth!
3. How long will I be under the desk, it’s very tight.
4. I wish my first aid kit wasn’t stuck in our UAB shipment somewhere in Iraq – this would be a great time to have it.

And feeling:

1. Terrified of the impact.  I get scared fairly easily and loud noises I expect are frightening enough.  I felt alone, I couldn’t see anything happening, there was no one by me to ask questions, and I knew I would start screaming and crying if I heard/felt the rocket hit the building.

It ended after about 10 minutes.  I crawled out from under the desk relieved and wondering where the rocket hit.  This is something that people here are used to.  Some soldiers have to be asked to actually get in the duck and cover and stop smoking when the alarm goes off because they have become complacent.

I assure you that I did not feel complacent.  My first IDF (indirect fire), and I won’t forget how it felt.  I still feel tears just below the surface - and I will not be laughing at James’ requests for me to be ready to run.  It is a unique and terrifying experience to be in a war zone, and I’m not sure if it helps or hurts to be living in a summer camp environment where you feel a false sense of safety.

On the other hand, I am in the most protected area of the country.  I can more fully empathize (while still not touching the tip of the iceberg on understanding what they experience daily)  how the Iraqis outside the green zone must feel every day…and not just when the random duck and cover alarm sounds.