Balad Air Base Armed Forces Hospital

Today we were able to leave Camp Victory for the first time and get out to play for some folks on Balad Air Base. We rode a Black Hawk in the morning and a Chinook to get home early the next morning. I say early the next morning but it was really the same night. We set off around 0600 in the morning and didn't get back until 0330 the next day. No sleep...21 hour day folks. What an experience.

By far the best part was playing for the wounded Soldiers and local Iraqis. It was a bitter sweet time though. As we played our set of music the nurses witnessed patients smiling that had never before during thier stay at the Hospital; however we found out later that in the very next room, listening to us play, a US Soldier had died about midway through our performance. I wasn't and am still not sure how to take that. Am I happy he died listening to us? Not really. Do I hope he enjoyed it and that it brought a smile to his fading face? Absolutely. I pray that he knew Christ and that his sole now rests in the Lord's peace. The people at the hospital were very kind to us. They fed us twice and as a thank you, gave us hospital scrubs with thier squadron number and motto on them. This was very nice, and rather unique I must say, in an organization that is notorious for giving "challenge coins" as tokens of appreciation for a job well done.

Yet another memorable moment came when it was time to go back to our post. After waiting in the terminal from 1930 to 0145 for a flight that was supposed to leave at 2150 we finally got confirmation that we were ready to go. We walked out to the Chinooks and got our safety brief. We loaded up and the choppers taxied to the launch pad. In the darkness, backed by the blinking lights of the runway, we took flight. We in the lead chopper had the view of a lifetime as the loadmaster lowered the back door opening the cargohold to the view behind us. Since we were the lead chopper our view consisted of this: the loadmaster sitting on the lowered edge of the rear door hanging his feet over the edge with night vision goggles clamped to his helmet and engaged to watch for any potential threats. From my vantage point, directly over his left sholder you could see the blacked out silhouette of the trailing Chinook against a randomly lit Baghdad backdrop as we maneuvered our way back to our camp.

As I stared out that back door I felt a distinct connection to every Soldier serving before me. It was a calming feeling to know that so many had flow in the same chopper in much worse curcumstances. I felt as though they were riding with us. Though we had ear plugs in and the roar of the engine and the sound of the rotars slicing the air above us consumed every noise, there was a deafening silence. I found myself alone with my thoughts as I gazed out at the broken city below. The faces I panned across sitting next to and across from me all seemed to say the same thing...I AM AN AMERICAN SOLDIER.