USO BLog: Iraq Day one Part 3
Okay. I'm back. Sorry it took so damned long to continue this story. I suppose most of you that started this with me are now gone or dead or have forgotten how to read. So for the rest of you, this is a blog for a tour I did with the USO through Kuwait, Iraq and Afghanistan. If you scroll down you can read the earlier entries.
The last installment took me through my first "Fobhop" (FOB: Forward Operating Base) in Iraq.
BAGHDAD DAY ONE: PART THREE
The Blackhawks took us back to Baghdad. I was completely exhausted, bones and head rattled from riding inside of this giant horse-fly. All I wanted to do was go back to our hotel and lie down. As far as I knew, we were done for the day. We boarded the bus at the helipad and our tour manager said "Okay before the hotel, there's one thing you have to see." I asked what that was. "Well you know how Saddam had all these palaces built? Well there's this one that's just huge and crazy and there's this throne that he used to sit on and you can get your picture sitting in that throne." One of the country western guys said "Oh yeah, you gotta see that Palace. It's nuts." I asked "Are we... visiting any soldiers there or anything?" "No but it's just so crazy how this guy just blew all this money you gotta see it." I thought "No I don't. I'm all in with this trip to meet every single soldier you put me in front of. But this sounds like a heap of bullshit. I asked once "Do I really have to see this? Because I'm pretty tired." "Oh yeah you gotta see this." Ugh. Okay. Whatever. Dino looked at me. He was starting to hate me for bringing him here.
We took the bus to this giant stupid ugly palace. I mean, personally, I think anything called a "Palace" is ugly. A giant ornate building made for any one rich asshole is the worst thing ever. Saddam's palace looked like someone went to the "Fancy" section of every Home Depot in New Jersey and just tacked every stupid fake golden porcelein silky satiny paisley curly thing into a giant cinderblock and then just poured some kind of shiny glaze over the whole thing. Standing in the middle of that, on an ugly grey marble floor, in the stuffy desert air, watching soldiers from all over America taking each other's pictures while sitting on "Saddam's Throne" made me wish I was back on that little FOB with some real people. SOmeone came over to me "Hey man. you gotta get your picture on the throne!" I said no thanks. They looked at me like I was nuts. "Come on! IT was Saddam's throne!" I looked over and saw this big puffy wooden brown chair with shiny things nailed all over it. there was a constant flow of people sitting in it and making goofy faces while their friends took pictures. I said No thanks again. I think about five people demanded that I get my picture on the throne. I said to Dino "I don't fucking get this. This is all horrible. This was a horrible, horrible guy who killed people all day every day and he made this house of shit and gold for himself. I don't see what's funny about sitting in the chair of a dead guy who killed people and making a silly face. It's just gross. None of this is funny. We gave this guy money to do this shit and then we killed him and now we make fun of him and everyone he killed. I don't want my fucking picture on the goddamn chair." Dino shrugged. "I guess." I realized at that moment, that the only bigger asshole than this situation, was me thinking I had something important to say about it. I wandered around the palace till I found some soldiers working at a desk. One of them had a christmas box full of chocolate cookies. These tin boxes are all over the place in the whole war-zone. Anywhere that we saw a desk or checkpoint, there was a box of christmas cookies or treats, sent to someone from back home. (it was christmas time) I asked if I could have one of the cookies. A Sergeant with a crazy ammount of stripes on his sleeves said sure. I ate one. Then I ate another one (didn't ask this time) I was now happy to be in Saddam's palace.
We finally piled into the bus and went back to the palace. The Sergeant Major hosted a small dinner with some soldiers and entertainers. I walked around looking for someone to talk to. Dino was using the one computer that had internet to chat with some people back home. The country Western guys were sitting out on Saddam's deck, smoking cigars with soldiers and dangling fishing poles into some murky water that folks say Saddam threw a lot of bodies into. In the end, we all went to sleep in our one room. Dino snored REALLY loud. In the middle of the night Kenny Thomas woke up and punched him very hard. He didn't wake up.
This was the most nothing post of the whole blog but I put it up anyway to get the momentum back. The next one, Iraq day two, is really good. So keep checking.
Thanks.
Louis C.K.
Posted by Louie in on May 16, 2009 | Comments [ 3 ]
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Louis!
Thanks for starting this up again. Enjoying the blogs very much and looking forward to the next one. I hope Dino gets laid by a Cheerleader and you get more cookies.
Thank you for continuing this blog, it's very interesting getting your take on a first hand experience in this "occupational conflict."
I very much enjoyed your early set in Towson, MD last Friday. Did your opener ever show up? If not, I hope that guy gets the worst hugs forever. Just the worst hugs.
Mr. CK,
as a former service member that never made it out to Iraq I would like to thank you for everything you are doing for our troops out there. I can only imagine how much their lives suck out there and you probably have no idea how much a little comedic distraction pays out dividends in a soldier's mind. Seriously, you talking about catholic boy rape may actually keep someone laughing enough to not go insane and do something stupid. On a very base level, that's what you do for the troops, though the value that's extracted from that base has far-reaching effects; all of them positive in a world where violence lurks around every corner and it is their job to respond in kind, violently and correctly. But mostly correctly.
Anywho, I just wanted to thank you for your service. You probably have no idea how much it means to everyone out there.
Warmly,
Andrew Ator