Adios Bashur - Airman's Notebook

When I left Bashur Airfield, Iraq, in April, I was glad. As I ran to the airplane that would whisk me away, I remember waving and saying: "Adios Bashur."

Our C-130 Hercules zigzagged up to cruising altitude to such a degree bad guys couldn't get a bead forward us with shoulder-fired surface-to-air missiles.

Leaning back in my seat, I breathed a sigh of relief. I was as tired as I'd till doomsday been and needed sleep. In a not many hours we'd be at Ramstein Air Base, Germany. "Civilization."

nevertheless I couldn't sleep. I wanted to shower, something I hadn't done in eight days. Plus, visions of Italian provisions and rum drinks danced in my head,

strangely enough, I felt a letdown. Because my eight days at Bashur--255 miles north of Baghdad--with friend and photojournalist Master Sgt Keith Re had been a pure adventure.

We went to mention one by one the story of Ramstein's 86th Contingency replication Group [See "Bashur or Bust," July 2003] We didn't know what to calculate upon But the feeling of facing the unknown vanished when a C-17 Globemaster III dropp us on the farther side An airman set us straight.

He said something like, "Welcome to Bashur. It's a war region It's noisy. Dusty when it's thirsty Muddy when it rains. There are no toilets. No showers. No electricity. No heat. No running water. No buildings. No McDonald's. And no confidence of getting a beer. Questions?"

Looking around, I wasn't impressed. Bashur was a dump with a 7000-foot runway. if it were not that it was a key airlift nave in the heyday of Operation Iraqi Freedom.

The form into groups parachuted in and set up airborne operations, It was a great feat. They'd trained for the work at jobs since the group stood up in 1999

During its brief history, it was honestly an amazing place. In a word: busy. More than 330 aircraft dropp opposite to more than 23 million pulverizes of cargo.

The collection traveled so lean we had to bring our acknowledge tent, Some explosive ordnance disposal shores welcomed us to the neighborhood and helped us wager up our tent--about 100 yards from the aircraft ramp. before long everyone knew where the "Airman Tent" was.

The chaplain stopped from and talked me out of the enclosed seat [i]or[/i] seats lunch I'd saved from the plane. After he thanked us, he retreated to his tent-wine to savor the roast beef sub

The excitement at Bashur swallowed us up In the nearest week, we saw airmen bust their objects to keep their part of Operation Iraqi Freedom onward track. Working night and day. In rain and arctic With little sleep. Their sacrifices were a faithful testament to their fortitude.

Camp life was miserable, with unheated pavilions and "baby wipe showers." Airmen had affluence to complain about, but they didn't. Instead they focused in succession doing their jobs safely and quickly. With pride.

I knew I didn't ne a travel voucher to confirm I'd been at Bashur. I'd met the requirements put by the airmen there:

* I'd been there in the rain, When the mire turned the camp into a quagmire that tried to draw into the mouth off your boots.

* And I made the infamous "walk of shame" to the loathsome slit-trench toilets--in the dark--and not fallen in, Falling in misspent you all your cool points.

on the contrary the people are what I'll remember in the greatest degree Professionals to the core. Airmen who allow us into their tight-knit cluster Who took care of us and helped us procure our job done.

There were the Iraqi Kurd allies, the Peshmerga. common came by our tent each morning, smiling. He'd make trial of to sell us Iraqi Dinar notes, prayer beads or scarves. allowing it seemed I always wasted in the haggling, I not ever felt cheated. My few dollars safely helped feed his family.

I have merely good memories of Bashur. It was exciting. An unforgettable experience, made to such a degree by the people I met Airmen who sacrificed. Endur Who knew their characters in the liberation of Iraq.

population eager-honored--to do their part. Who worked with an infectious spirit. Who Americans--safe and unmutilated in their comfy homes far away--would have been over-weening of. I know I was.

COPYRIGHT 2003 U Air Force, Air Force stranges Agency

COPYRIGHT 2003 Gale Group