Who's Your Baghdaddy?

Yesterday I found myself humming the tune of Gilligan's Island. I was reminded of that "3 Hour Tour" while I was winding my way through the streets of Baghdad. It is amazing what one bad turn will do to you. At one point I was navigating my way around the secure zone when the confusion of exploding mortar rounds and small arms fire caused me to take a wrong turn. I somehow managed to get through a checkpoint that should have been guarded but it wasn't. The strip map that I had with me only covered my intended route. I now found myself off the map and trying to find my way to Camp Stryker. 6 of us had piled into a Ford Crew Cab truck after we landed at the Miltary ramp at Baghdad International. Because we were crowded, we placed our Kevlars and our body armor in the bed of the truck expecting a peaceful secure drive to our destination. We were scheduled to attend a briefing at one of Sadaam's old palaces. We made it, but we were a little late and a lot more greatful to be unharmed! I realized how American I looked as we drove through some of these Baghdad streets. The locals seemed to look at us and think "What the hell!" Driving in a unarmored truck with our body armor in the bed and only six 9mm pistols to protect us was the ultimate feeling of vulnerability. At one point I had driven past a vehicle that was obviously at the wrong end of an IED. The vehicle was mangled and on its side. The damage was far worse then what a traffic accident could cause. Fortunately, this adventure had a happy ending. As we made our way back to the secure area, I looked in my rearview mirror and saw a sign that said " Deadly Force Authorized Beyond This Point".