American perspective can change here in Baghdad:

Last night as Monica and I were leaving the shower trailer, we heard a popping noise. She said, "Oh, look, fireworks!" Up in the sky were red trails of light streaming toward us. It was pretty, but alarming. I asked if they were tracer rounds or flares, and we both started walking as quickly as we could back to our trailer in our wet flip-flops (try running in those). Half-way there, she says, "You know, those are just flares. We send off flares signifying that there's a convoy headed out." Immediately I thought that didn't make sense, since that would let the enemy know a convoy was leaving the Post. I kept running back to the trailer as the red streams of light soared above. When we got to our door, some men from her Company were standing around watching the light show. I asked, "Are those just flares?" They said, "No, those are tracer rounds. You can hear the fire-fight. It's not that far away." I looked at Monica who said sheepishly, "I thought you'd sleep better if you thought they were just flares." We watched, a little concerned, as the tracer rounds increased in number. I commented on
the fact that what goes up must come down... Another person approached and said, "Iraq just beat the Aussies in football." Suddenly it dawned upon us that we weren't watching a firefight but a celebration.

This morning at Church a man stood up to say he wanted to praise the Lord. He held up a bullet and said it came through his trailer last night during the celebratory shooting.

It makes me laugh. Yes, I know this is dangerous, but there's nothing we can really do about it. I'm sure someone is trying to teach the Iraqis the dangers of celebratory shooting, but it's such a long-lived custom in this region and could take a while. I can't worry, I can't get afraid. If I start, I'll never be able to do my job. All we can do here is laugh, albeit nervously.

Today our power went out for nearly an hour, which meant the A/C was cut off. I can't imagine what it must have been like to work in Northern Africa during WWII. The power came back on, work resumed, and "groundhog day" continued. (Every day is the same here.)

As I bought a bike today (my third one this year), I should soon be speeding around the Post and won't have to worry anymore about walking home alone in the dark. :)

My Grandpa Lincoln died the other day from what I think was a heart attack. It's been difficult getting ahold of anyone who knows anything (like my mother). Everyone went to California for the funeral... and I'm very far away in Iraq. I hope, above all, my grandmother makes it alright though this.

Work has been insanely busy. I didn't know I had it in me to work straight through for 13 hours without taking any real breaks. I've taken over phase one editing of the daily product we disseminate every evening, and it can keep me very occupied. Not only do I write my own assessments, but I gather everyone else's, quality check it, and send it on. We have our senior analyst do a sanity check on the actual assessments, of course. (Good thing, since I'm so new here and hardly know my area enough to make insightful assessments.)

I received an email yesterday saying they had given me a trailer, only.... they had given me the title "Major" and had me down as a man. I don't know who thought a person with the first name "Amber" would be male, but there it was. They had me rooming with a male major. I quickly called and found they had realized their mistake, but were still going to give me a trailer. I moved all of my stuff out of my tent and made my way to the trailer. (I was allowed to borrow the car, which helped immensely.) Finally, I met another female 1Lt. Believe it or not, she talks more than I do. I was so relieved to learn she was very open, friendly, and helpful. We talked until it was very late, which made me think of sleep-overs from when I was younger. We occupy 1/3 of a trailer, and each have a twin-size bed, a night stand, and a locker (just like the ones in the hallways of High Schools across America). Not much to store clothing in, but I'll eventually buy a set of drawers. I also will need to get a bike, because work is about a mile away now, at least. Anyways, my living conditions have improved -- with one exception: we're very close to the perimeter of the base now, and right next to the Helo MediVac landing pad. With obvious reason, our trailer shook often throughout the night and morning because of the nearby helicopters and mortar rounds that were hitting no too far away. I didn't care -- I was just too happy to finally have a bed.

They cancelled our days off, until further notice, because we have so much to do. I was upset when I found out, but got used to it. Every day is the same here. At least I'm busy! Sundays are the only days that have a slight break because I get to go to church, and that takes one hour out of my routine. A great hour. I was thinking yesterday how normally I don't want to waste a morning going to church, but here -- I wish we had church every morning.

Wish I had something insightful or meaningful to say, but I don't. My brain leaks out at work, and by this time of day, 5pm, I can barely put thought together. I still have 3 hours of work, too.

I have a some-what funny story: On Tuesday, I got some sleeping pills from the doc b/c I wasn't sleeping well on my cot (plus it's noisy in my tent of 20+ females). I slept very well that night... so well, in fact, I didn't even know four mortar rounds had hit somewhere nearby, waking everyone else up and shaking the tent. The mortars really aren't that frightening because we're all used to them, but are surprising. We had one hit yesterday while I was typing a report at work, shaking our trailer, and it made me jump. Someone exclaimed, "outgoing!" which is the usual remark. Of course we never shoot out mortars, but it makes people feel better. The first thing we do after we hear something like that is see if EOD (Explosive Ordinance Disposal) has scheduled to disarm something at that time (isn't it nice that they let us know?). The only time I get concerned is when the mortars sound far away at first and then get louder and louder. According to what I've heard, though, nobody's been killed by mortars here at Camp Victory. Their aim is horrible, it seems.

People I came here with have finally started receiving mail, so I'm hoping I get packages soon! :)

I have to get back to work... I get hundreds of messages a day I have to read. Sometimes it slows down, and sometimes there's a rush. (Especially if something has happened.) Sorta like working at a restaurant.

I'm getting used to the 110+ heat, which is good. Still, it's not too much fun walking the 3/4mile to lunch and back in the full sun. By the time I get back to work, I've lost so much water!

Ciao,
Amber

I have been working SO MUCH the last few days. A 12 hour shift is really a 13 hours shift due to shift changes, etc. I read and read and read and read. By the time work is over, I generally walk home and crawl into my luxurious cot, then pass out. I've been told I get a day off next Thursday, and then the week after it'll be a 1/2 day off, and will rotate like that each week. Thursday seems so far away...

I am really enjoying being here. Work is extremely demanding, and I feel like I won't ever get ahead, but I love it. It's real intel! I'm reading reports and articles, and making assessments (or trying to at this stage). For the last few days I'm just trying to make sense of the chaos in this country. There are so many people I have to know by name, and who they're related to, and where they are.... Since this wasn't the area I studied in college, EVERYTHING is new to me.

Well I have to go. One of the men that works in this computer lab just told me I have to get rid of my water bottle. The sign says no drinks, but everyone knows that water bottles are ok. I can't believe that. It's rediculous. I threw a fit, and now I have to go.

I'll write the next time I have a moment free.

My address here is:

1Lt Amber Brinson

MNF-I (C2)

NIC/IFC

APO AE 09342

....don't forget to add "USA" at the bottom if it's coming from a foreign country. :)