The soldiers came again this morning. This time they knocked instead of breaking down our door.
It might have something to do with my husband beckoning through the window. He told the soldiers about the cache of weapons nearby. They finally found the weapons the insurgents had stored and the insurgents.
They killed Mustafa, but he was an evil man, making things worse for our village.
The soldiers hadn't been in the village 10 minutes when one of them was killed. They are just children, younger than my brother when he died. It hurts me to see these children fighting.
My husband left for the mosque and I watched out the window for awhile before I left to go see my friend Aminah. She lives four houses away from me. I kept near the sides of the building when I could and though I didn't run, I walked very fast in the open spaces.
When I got to Aminah's house, she wasn't there. Her husband, Abdul was and he said, "I told that woman, not to go out, she'd get shot, but did she listen? No, she did not. She went to the market anyway."
I thanked him and went on to the market to find Aminah.
When I got to the market I saw a fight breaking out between my neighbor and Anbar, the black market dealer. Anbar was selling cheap gas. The problem was it wasn't pure and it had caused several people trouble with their vehicles.
As they screamed at each other our local police and some American soldiers came up and finally arrested Anbar. The people in the market cheered as the police took him away and closed the gas sales.
I saw Aminah across the market and went to join her. We decided to go back to her house.
Just as we left the cover of the market, fighting broke out between the local insurgents and the American soldiers. We turned and ran back to the market, getting down under the edges of a market stall. We heard mortar fire and then all was quite.
We went on to Aminah's house. All afternoon we heard machine gun fire throughout the town. We wanted to go back out, but Abdul wouldn't let us leave the house.
"Are you crazy?" he said. "You could get shot. Stay in here. Do not go outside."
So we stayed in the house and listened to the gun and mortar fire as the soldiers and insurgents fought from house to house.
As darkness fell we heard the air strike, our signal that the end of the day had come. We packed up our backpacks and portable chairs and trooped out to the bus for the ride back to Base Camp at Fort Stewart.
"You working tomorrow?" asked Annie.
"Yes, I said, I'll see you then and we can play Iraqi again."
It might have something to do with my husband beckoning through the window. He told the soldiers about the cache of weapons nearby. They finally found the weapons the insurgents had stored and the insurgents.
They killed Mustafa, but he was an evil man, making things worse for our village.
The soldiers hadn't been in the village 10 minutes when one of them was killed. They are just children, younger than my brother when he died. It hurts me to see these children fighting.
My husband left for the mosque and I watched out the window for awhile before I left to go see my friend Aminah. She lives four houses away from me. I kept near the sides of the building when I could and though I didn't run, I walked very fast in the open spaces.
When I got to Aminah's house, she wasn't there. Her husband, Abdul was and he said, "I told that woman, not to go out, she'd get shot, but did she listen? No, she did not. She went to the market anyway."
I thanked him and went on to the market to find Aminah.
When I got to the market I saw a fight breaking out between my neighbor and Anbar, the black market dealer. Anbar was selling cheap gas. The problem was it wasn't pure and it had caused several people trouble with their vehicles.
As they screamed at each other our local police and some American soldiers came up and finally arrested Anbar. The people in the market cheered as the police took him away and closed the gas sales.
I saw Aminah across the market and went to join her. We decided to go back to her house.
Just as we left the cover of the market, fighting broke out between the local insurgents and the American soldiers. We turned and ran back to the market, getting down under the edges of a market stall. We heard mortar fire and then all was quite.
We went on to Aminah's house. All afternoon we heard machine gun fire throughout the town. We wanted to go back out, but Abdul wouldn't let us leave the house.
"Are you crazy?" he said. "You could get shot. Stay in here. Do not go outside."
So we stayed in the house and listened to the gun and mortar fire as the soldiers and insurgents fought from house to house.
As darkness fell we heard the air strike, our signal that the end of the day had come. We packed up our backpacks and portable chairs and trooped out to the bus for the ride back to Base Camp at Fort Stewart.
"You working tomorrow?" asked Annie.
"Yes, I said, I'll see you then and we can play Iraqi again."