A soldier was killed near our hotel yesterday. An army truck was blown up not far from here - four or five died there. Iraqis died in an explosion at a mosque in Fallujah two days ago - they say the army fired on them. The army deny it. Death and dying, fear and loathing seems ever present where we are.
Many people carry weapons, for protection they say. It's not the first time I have been asked if I carry one. One of our translators made the enquiry a week or so ago. I pointed to my mouth and told her that was the only weapon I needed or wanted.
She clearly thought I was a fool.
We are surrounded by weaponry. Duh, we are in a conflict zone, but even so it is constantly in your face. If it isn't tanks rumbling by, it's gun toting soldiers atop HumVees, check points and patrols, or of course the ambassador by the pool again while we eat (one hamburger, cheese, sauce - easy on the AK47 please)
Earlier we were stopped at another of the newly born checkpoints. They can be rather chaotic affairs sometimes, especially if you put them in the wrong place and this one had been. Just on a slight bend in the road. So of course there was the inevitable traffic queue and of course there were the inevitable impatient Iraqi drivers.
The normal road courtesy here is if you aren't moving, then drive down the middle or the other side of the road in order to get passed the obstruction. It's a good theory, but rarely works in practise and can get a bit hairy when the driver at the back doesn't know what's at the front and comes bumper to tank track with the army.
They can reverse pretty quickly here too, I've noticed!
This day they were doing a really thorough check. We had our flag flying on the gypsy and faintly hoped they might not bother with us - dream on Sara. So everything got hauled out of the back, the Geiger counters, the decon kit.......
I confess I felt a little sorry for them having to ruffle through William's now very sweaty, salty stiff overalls - not a pleasant task.
It's the first time I've seen a patrol with an Iraqi translator with them. Good move. I presume they do it elsewhere, but I've only ever seen loud American barked at people who have no idea what is being said (you know that cartoon about what dogs hear? Sit Rover, Down Rover, Catch the ball Rover - and all rover hears is Blah blah blah rover).
"What exactly is Greenpeace?" he asked.
"We are a non violent direct action environment and peace organisation," I parroted the party line at him as I got sandwiched between two soldiers with BIG guns.
"But just because we are no violent, doesn't mean we don't get pissed off sometimes," I muttered under my breath as another BIG gun brushed passed me. Clearly his aural skills were as good as his linguistic - he walked away laughing very loudly.
As we finished packed our stuff back into the gypsy one of the soldiers got chatting. They're almost always friendly towards me and are always impeccably polite (haven't been called ma'am so many times before!). But then of course I am a white western woman and not a potential assassin.
They asked about the work we are doing here. They hadn't heard of the radioactivity at Tuwaitha, so we told them some of the details. They did look concerns, but it was also clear that they have the same view as many others we have met - they are not here to deal with that.
As we climbed back into the car one turned to me and said: "If you ever need anything while you are here, we will come and help you"
"Thanks" I said. "You're very kind, but you would have to leave your gun behind."
Guess I'm on my own again.