A Day Off in Iraq

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Matt Persiani, a Lieutenant in the United States Navy, is serving his third tour in Iraq. As U.S. troops withdraw from the restive country, Persiani talks about the quieter days of his service.

To call Iraq a war zone now is a bit of a stretch, especially when comparing it to the battlefields on which our brothers and sisters-in-arms are fighting in Afghanistan.   With that said, Iraq is by no means a safe haven for U.S. troops. We are still in gear to fully support the Iraqi Forces while they try to restore peace to their country.

Yet, one week into my third tour of Operation Iraqi Freedom, here I sit in a flight suit at half-mast with my cabana shirt on, and time is at a standstill.  It’s a stark contrast to my first week, which was a nonstop marathon of planning and flying intense missions. But now we are in our second day of a haboob, or massive dust storm, and we can’t fly. And because we are grounded on a Friday, we are all wearing our cabana shirts—a tradition that seems to have started for some unspoken or unknown reason.

Within my squadron, I have the honor of working with a group of professional and talented aviators whose unique experience and knowledge could humble some of the most qualified pilots in the Navy.  But today, as we try to pass time in anyway we can, bystanders who might look in at us would surely be scratching their heads at our day-off antics. 

Our mission planning computer network, on which we usually spend hours mapping out rigorous missions, is currently being dominated by the video game Call of Duty.  It’s a snow day so each pilot is manning his workstation dressed in full combat attire. (By combat attire I mean a cabana shirt and head phones.) Those who are sporting their poorly groomed mustaches they have grown since being deployed, or “det stache” for short, are proudly wearing their MAF shoulder patch to signify that they are part of the Mustache Assault Force. 

Teams have been made and it is a full out combat with professional aviators yelling at each other using their screen names.  “On my six HingeKiller!” “Damn you Uncle Rico!”  Uncle Rico happens to be our junior enlisted guy here who, as part of Generation Y/Z, has no problem destroying the rest of us with his innate ability to become one with the computer.  Sometimes I think he just likes to kill me and my fellow pilots at his will.

Tonight we have decided to forgo dinner at the chow hall--thank God a night without chicken!--and we have pooled our money for a pizza night and a roll’em. (The term “roll’em,” I would guess, comes from the days when the projector was dusted off on the ship and movie night was a big deal--the days prior to VCRs and DVDs.)  Two guys are tasked with heading to the pizza trailer to pick up some pizzas (no pepperoni…never Iraq pepperoni) and the Duty Officer has the obligation to pick what movie will be watched by everyone. 

The Naval tradition of a roll’em can be found in the Ready Room (the squadron’s briefing and home space for pilots where they can get ready for missions) of any Naval squadron, ashore or afloat, who has the night off from flying. The movie is generally one that could only be loved by a group of guys and one that nobody would watch with their girls back home. Duty Officers reputations have soared and perished based on their movie selection that the entire officer chain of command will be subjected to. Tonight’s roll’em is, I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell. Best of luck to the man who chose it.

As for tomorrow, it will be another day in this Ground Hog’s Day deployment. We will be back on alert, praying the weather clears so we can put down our computer games and get back into our cockpits to do what we do best. 

Read more from Matt Persiani on the military's "don't ask, don't tell" policy.

(Photo credit: C-12 aircraft in Iraqi dust storm; Polihale; C.C. 3.0)