ALONG THE WAY

Seeking Solace Between Baghdad and Bagdad

FROM THE MOMENT I FIRST FOUND BAGDAD on a map of Arizona, I felt called to seek it out. We fought our way up to that other Baghdad, the one in Iraq, through the desert and down “Ambush Alley.” We dodged rocket-propelled grenades (RPGs), ducked pop shots and chased the Fedayeen fighters that patrolled the shadows.

That was two years ago, but I still think about it every day. I think about the explosions, the burned vehicles and the way the air smells around the dead. I feel sandstorms and blazing heat in my sleep. I see strange men lurking in alleys and helicopters carrying off the wounded. Most of all, I feel the desert and its expansive nothingness. And now, I miss the desert, the war and my friends.

Perhaps that's why the dot on the map at the end of a threehour drive beckoned me into the desert, which has always offered sanctuary and enlightenment: Jesus spent 40 days and nights in the Judean Desert; Mohammed meditated alone in the Arabian Desert. I needed to leave the city-needed to make sense of things.

On my original Baghdad excursion, the “mother of all sandstorms” forced us to hunker down for hours, but this time cotton-candy cumulus clouds dominate the baby-blue sky as I pass through the tranquil cities of El Mirage, Sun City and Surprise. No rough-and-tumble cities like Nasiriyah, Hilla or Kut beset this Bagdad escapade. No ambush alley or RPGs either-just cacti, mountains and tumbleweeds. The throngs of saguaro sentries remind me that I am in a different desert, one from which I will most certainly return. But that only reminds me of the troops in that other desert who weren't so lucky.

Groves of Joshua trees with their upraised, prayerful arms greet me halfway into the drive. It's a desolate area, but I don't feel alone. Instead, I am traveling withthe unit again. My platoon sergeant is a few vehicles behind, and his voice crackles through my radio. Corporal Kipper is riding ahead; he looks back and gives me a thumbs-up. It reminds me that we are all in this together. Mormon settlers named the trees after the biblical Joshua. Passing through the groves, I ask myself a question those settlers would have understood, “Whither thou goest?” I can't answer the question now, but feel something awaits me up ahead.

When we reached the outskirts of Baghdad, Iraq, the bridges were mangled and we had to “swim” our amphibious assault vehicles across the Diyala River to enter that ancient city. Black smoke billowed from various locations. Incoming and outgoing shots danced throughout the sky. Nothing quite as dramatic happens when I enter Bagdad, Arizona. Not even close.

I head to the gas station to forage for a few postcards. I want to send a Bagdad, Arizona, postcard to my platoon sergeant, “Gunny” Yates, to tell him about my strange mission in the wrong desert and give him something to hang up next to his two Purple Hearts.

Pulling out of the gas station, I notice children leaving a small school. They run back and forth playing tag as they cross Main Street. They appear unafraid and careless, just enjoying the moment and what life has to offer them. It is peaceful in this Bagdad, and I think that maybe I now understand. Maybe my Iraq journey somehow helped protect these children from having to endure the sights and sounds of a future Middle Eastern war. And maybe, just maybe, the children of that other Baghdad, the one of my broken sleep, will one day be able to leave school unafraid and careless as well.

On the way home I pass the Joshua trees again and realize this trip had nothing, and everything, to do with Bagdad, Arizona. In that grove of Joshua trees, I see all the Marines I served with, silent guides pointing me in the right direction. It is here I understand that we all have our wars to contend with, and sometimes you just have to venture out into the desert to regroup, think and find peace.

Amid the Joshua trees, I ask myself again, “Whither thou goest?” And while I still can't answer the question, I know that if I just keep moving and watching, the answers will find me-somewhere in the desert, somewhere between Baghdad and Bagdad. H