Written by: December 29, 2008 5:45am Currently Located : Middle East

Upon arriving at Baghdad International Airport I breathed an enormous sigh of relief, not because of nervousness from our rollercoaster flight, but from relief that I wouldn't pass out from heat stroke in front of ninety soldiers. I came out of the plane smelling like an old gym sock and looking like I had just taken a swim in the Euphrates. I didn't mind much though, my mind was entirely focused on getting to our trailer at Camp Liberty, where I was hoping for a chance to settle in and decompress.

The next stage of my travel was a helicopter ride to the green zone, where I would get my Press Identification and then finally get to Liberty. I hadn't thought much about this part of my travels, after all I had ridden on Blackhawk helicopters a fair amount during training and while I appreciated the convenience the novelty had long since faded. I realized then that I would be flying from the airport to the green zone over Baghdad, a realization that had been a long time in coming.

The excitement was there though, and as we marched to the helicopter I didn't even mind the fact that we were lugging more baggage than a movie star going on holiday. Duffel bags, backpacks, camera bags; all of it felt like a lead weight every time we had traveled prior. This time, my thoughts were on seeing the city in spectacular fashion, and not on the practicalities of actually loading the helicopter with all of our gear.

This was no easy task. When we got to the Blackhawk we realized we would have to fit nine bags into a helicopter cab designed to hold eight men and not much else. There were five soldiers already in the helicopter, and upon seeing what we were hauling they all exchanged brief glances that plainly meant, "God Damnit."

All were unfailingly polite and helpful, willingly pulling things in and propping items on their legs to save space as best they could. A task that seemed daunting was the work of a minute, and before long I
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