NOVEMBER 1 –It’s November!!!! We are just under 60 days to go! We found out that we all will be home for Christmas! This piece of news is definitely putting all of the guys in a good mood. It is so evident that everyone is ready to go home. I feel like I have given Iraq my best and I can’t give anymore! As I’ve stated before this country has such a long way to go before it is stabilized. I am still bothered by how the Iraqis have taken up such a comfortable posture with us. Today is the last day of training with them. Before we load everyone on the trucks and head back in we ask the Iraqis to do what we call in the Army a ‘police call’. That is where every person will spread out at arms length away from each other and then walk the training area picking up trash as they go. If everyone cooperates this simple task will only take 5 minutes to successfully execute. Well, today I learned another thing about the Iraqi culture. This culture supposedly is based on respect. What I am finding is that the respect that they give is conditional. When the Iraqis don’t want to do something they use a term called ‘Inshallah’. Translated it means “God willing’. It is easier to use this term than rather tell a man ‘no’. Trust me, they use this term just like candy! Well, today my team and I didn’t even get an ‘Inshallah’. We asked the Iraqi officers to order their men to pick up the trash in the training area before we left. It is funny how body language can almost be a universal form of communication. I saw just then a handful of guys get up and do what we asked of them. The others were a sight to behold. Some sat back against the walls of the building that was near us and acted as if they didn’t hear us! They were small groups of three to four guys who were pretending to be engaged in a conversation and they totally ignored us! Well, we had our first international crisis on our hands! Some of the Iraqi officers just stood around looking at us as we attempted through interpreters to communicate that we wanted this task done. Iraqis can be very passive-aggressive when they don’t want to do something. I was growing more and angrier as I watched this display of disrespect that was being directed at us! It was then that my drill sergeant persona kicked in and I grabbed an interpreter ran to the middle of the area and shouted “Hey no one will be allowed to leave or go to lunch until this area is picked up! The choice is yours! We can stay here all day if you like!” Just like little kids who have decided to make the right choice and give up their tantrums. They one by one gave up their protest and began to start picking up trash! I would soon be told by one of our interpreters that the Iraqis would say “Sgt. Lewis is a good guy. He dances with us but he changed into a mean guy!” I explained to my interpreter that if he were to go to any American military installation he would not find trash thrown all over the place. I consider myself to be a good judge of human behavior but what I saw today really disturbed me. How does one justify that kind of behavior? It’s like trying to get a teenager to clean his or her room when it is messy!

NOVEMBER 2 – We arrived back at our camp safe and sound. I couldn’t be happier to see my room again. My room is my fortress of solitude. It’s the place where I can close the door behind me and forget about this war. Many of you know that I am a very social person, but after a day of listening to people gripe and complain about being here, it is always a pleasure to return to my place of peace. It’s ironic that I call my room that because we were awakened this morning by incoming rockets that came into our camp. It sounded like four of them exploded somewhere nearby. The insurgents must have gotten the word that we were back in town! As I described before it is something that those of us who live here grow accustomed to hearing. Outside our rooms, they have built mini bomb shelters for us but everyone will continue to do what they were doing. Some people will even sleep through the rocket attack!

NOVEMBER 3 – Well I just got orders that I have been promoted to Master Sergeant! This, of course, means that I will be going to another unit. I will have to give up my drill sergeant hat and come off, what we call the ‘the trail’. I have had seven good years as a drill sergeant. I will miss it with all of my heart. I love motivating people. This was the perfect platform to do this. Over the years, I have trained thousands of soldiers. I even ran into one over here who remembered me when she first came to Fort Jackson. She said that she was so scared when she got there but when she met me she knew that she was going to be all right. I forgot to ask her if that was a positive or negative statement! There will be so much that I will miss. I will miss the early morning sounds of thousands of soldiers doing PT (physical training) in the morning. I will miss the enjoyment of marching troops and the sound of the boots hitting the ground as we sing cadence. I will also miss the game of cat and mouse that is played between trainee and instructor as we try to instill into them military values and discipline that will take a common person and turn them into a world-class professional soldier that the world has ever known. I will miss being looked at as the ‘standard bearer’. In the drill sergeant world, you are the first impression of the Army that these people will see and for the most part a lasting impression at that. If you go to anyone who has been in the military at all they all can still tell you the name of their drill sergeants. These were the men and women who challenged you. They would look at your potential and would never accept anything less than your best each day! For some people, these expectations changed their lives forever! For some, it was more encouragement than they got from home. I know because I was there when soldiers would openly cry whenever they completed something they thought they couldn’t do. I was there at many a graduation ceremony where a father with tears in his eyes would just stare at his son because he couldn’t believe how much this young man had changed. This kid who used to sit on the couch playing Nintendo is now shaking his hand like a man with a purpose in his life. I too would have tears well up in my eyes as I saw soldier after soldier move on to pursue their own careers. I have to come to another reality and that is I am getting older. The recruits aren’t getting any older. For a 47-year-old man, I am in good shape but it gets harder each year. I finished my last cycle of basic training last year with my three girlfriends, Advil, Tylenol, and Motrin. To me becoming a drill sergeant is my greatest achievement. This time, I will be standing on the sidelines cheering the new recruits on. My new position will take me back to my roots which are logistics. I will embrace this new endeavor with the same enthusiasm. Trust me, drill sergeants never die they just exhale!

NOVEMBER 4 – The reports are that Baghdad is becoming safer. There haven’t been a lot of attacks on Coalition forces in the region for quite some time now. I learned from one of our intelligence guys that there is a new strategy going on. The insurgents are now attacking Iraqi security forces directly. By doing this they will win influence and control in the area. Another result is now they don’t have to directly fight American forces that are in the area. It makes perfect sense, if you control the police and military forces in the area then you control the area without firing a shot at Coalition forces! I want to paint a picture for you here of what these people deal with on a daily basis. I am outside my house watering my flower bed. A strange man will come up to me and say that if I don’t support the insurgent group in the area he will kill me and my whole family. He tells me that it will do no good to go to the police because their group is supported by the local police. He also states that if I go to the Iraqi military I will find the same results there. I am faced with a dilemma. I could go to the Americans and tell them about this encounter but if I do I have no guarantee that I and my family will be protected should there be a reprisal. In my neighborhood, I am cautious with whom I share my options because I don’t know if my neighbors are watching every move that I make. I have a wife and three kids and I am concerned about their safety. The decision is clear; I will have no choice but to conform to the corruption in the area just to ensure my family’s safety. That is how these people survive over here. I call it ‘the country of alliances’. It depends on what side you are standing on when something goes down.

NOVEMBER 6 – It is just under 45 days until I go home. There are several larger units here in our camp that are preparing to go home as well. You can tell the ones that are going home. They are the soldiers that have a little more pep in their step. There are other signs as well. The post office has a long line of soldiers shipping their entire personal items home. Since I’ve returned there are so many new faces in the mess hall. The new units are here to replace the units that are leaving. The lines in the mess hall are equally as long. For some of us who have been here almost a year, there is a sense that we are old veterans now. Our faces are tanned and weathered as compared to the fresh faces of all the new people who are coming in. We once looked like that too. We had that untarnished look of innocence mixed with the excitement of the unknown rushing through our veins. It’s obvious that is time to go home. When I got back from our 30-day training I had 8 care packages on my desk! I want to thank you all for your support of me over this year. It was nice to have a box with my name on it when I would come in after a hard day in the sun. Your outpouring of support has truly helped me get through this whole year. I say thank you, so if you know of any soldiers over here please continue to support them. If you don’t know why you can contact your local USO or join the ‘Adopt a Soldier program’ on the internet. I still have a little more time over here and yes I have to be careful to keep my guard up because it is still dangerous over here. I will be careful and keep you posted.

NOVEMBER 7 – There has been an increase in rocket attacks on our camp! I don’t have a television in my room so I don’t know what the news wires are saying. I guess it doesn’t matter because the truth is if it happens here I would know firsthand before it hit the mainstream news media. What’s strange about these attacks is that it’s about 4 p.m. and usually we get this in the mornings. I can feel the impact shake my trailer. I get up from my desk and go outside to have a look. I can see a small black mushroom cloud in the distance. The stream of black smoke can be seen about a mile away but the impact feels like it landed just outside my door! I have just about 32 days to go and this is one thing that I will not miss! As I’ve stated before the mentality here is to continue on what you were doing before the rocket hit the camp. It does no good to run out in a panic to the shelter. Those that do that we can tell that they must have just gotten here. It will be soon in no time that they too will grow accustomed to the impact of the rockets. What an insane way to cope with such a situation. I have a team meeting in about 10 minutes and I have to walk across my living area and cross a street onto another living area to get to my team room. As I am walking it does cross my mind the possibility of a rocket directly hitting me. Well, this is where my faith comes in. I trust God for my safety as I boldly make my way to my team room.

NOVEMBER 9 – To my surprise the officer that I work with, he and I were awarded the Army Commendation Medal for Valor. I will read to you what the award says:

The Army Commendation Medal with Valor
Sergeant First Class Roy H. Lewis

For valorous achievement while serving as a National Police Transition team member. On 11 March 2007, SFC Lewis charged through a withering small arms fire, successfully leading the National Police in an assault on an enemy position. His dedication to mission success and exceptional leadership are in keeping with the finest traditions of military service and reflect great credit upon him, the task force Thunderhorse, the Dager Brigade, and the United States Army.

Given under my hand in the city of Washington,

Col J.B. Burton

This award was for what I believe was the time that I and another officer were shot at while on a walking patrol in a neighborhood. Hey, folks, all that military verbiage sounds good but I am not going to lie. This brother was scared!! It is true what they say when you’re in a dangerous situation. When it happened I thought about my wife. I had thoughts of never seeing my children again. Even though this little skirmish might have lasted only a few minutes it felt like hours! I remember the captain called my name and told me to prepare to move out of our position. I remembered how dry my mouth became as I acknowledged him by just nodding. It was then that I heard the sweetest sound. That was my friend who was positioned on the 50 cal machine gun letting his presence be known by letting a few rounds go downtown! I remembered the sense of relief when I heard that very loud but very effective gun do its thing. I don’t know about all that valor stuff. Remember I believe that heroes aren’t people; they are my favorite deli sandwich!

NOVEMBER 12 – There hasn’t been much going on in the past few days since returning from the training facility. My time has been spent running around doing things such as inventories, mailing my personal items home, and buying supplies for our team room. We are down to seven guys left on our team. We had one that was transferred because of his conduct and the other three were assigned because they refused to work with our team chief. This is the guy that I have written about in the past few months. As we draw closer to the end of this mission it is evident to me after talking to other teams that the individuals who end up being moved around from team to team are always not the best people. In other words, teams will not give up their best people. So what usually happens is that other teams will pick up another team’s problems. This is the case for my team. This has happened to us not only once but twice! What we have here is an inexperienced officer who is so bad at leading that the decisions he makes sometimes can become life-threatening not only to him but also to the welfare of our team! When confronted he becomes defensive whenever anyone offers a suggestion or option that is different from his. Because of this, my team has totally shut down mentally and now everyone has become unmotivated and isolated. What is embarrassing to me is that our chief has gotten a bad reputation with the higher command that supports us. He has also managed to pull this off with the Iraqis as well. There was one evening at the training facility that the Iraqi National Police command hosted a dinner in which all of the training teams were invited. There was a table set up for our team to sit with our Iraqi officers. When everyone took their seats they managed to have our chief sit way down at the other end of the table in between two young Iraqi officers! The atmosphere among the guys is that we are just under 30 days until we go home. The damage is done and the pieces fall where they may. For me, it has been a good year living here in Iraq. I’ve experienced many things that I will probably never get the chance to do again. There is also a piece of me that feels that I have done everything that I know to do. I have given my best and now it’s time for me to return home to my family. I am grateful for the time that I have spent here in Iraq. I have no regrets. My team has been through a lot; the internal problems just only add to the drama.

NOVEMBER 13 – There has been talk, that we are going on a mission with our National Police to occupy a new sector. I heard that this sector is very dangerous and now that our battalion has just completed training they will be pushed into this new sector. My team’s response to this news is a surprise because we have just about four weeks until we turn our equipment over to the next team and fly back home. I’m equally disappointed because for the last three months, I have watched units prepare themselves for their trip back to the States. The last two to three weeks are filled with excitement as the lines at the post office are long with soldiers shipping their entire personal belongings home. You can tell the ones that are going home. You can hear it in their voices as they talk to one another in the mess hall. Who would have known that my last three weeks in Iraq would be spent on patrol in a new sector? To make matters worse, this new sector is a dangerous one according to our intelligence resources. I am really angry and I don’t know whom to get mad at. I know these decisions are made echelons above me. I just wish that they would have some kind of consideration towards us and let us enjoy preparing to go home. It is unanimous amongst the team that we are all tired and are ready to go home. We have been together as a team since September of 2006! We do have a sense of humor around here. The guys made up a holiday for us. It’s called ‘Man Love Thursday’. This is the day of the week we guys let down our hard exteriors and express love to each other by giving each other a hug. Well, today we are going to need it!

NOVEMBER 14 – The orders have gone out that we are definitely leaving for this new sector today. We were told that it would be 12-midnight last night but that window has come and gone. We were also given a departure time of 2 p.m. this afternoon as well. The indecision I’m told comes down from the Iraqi Ministry of Interior (MOI) and the Ministry of Defense (MOD). These two governmental departments argue back and forth on Iraq’s internal issues such as this one determining where to position our National Police battalion. While writing this, an order has come down and we are now moving out at 6 o’clock. We will meet up with our Iraqi battalion in our new sector. The sun is starting to set around 5 p.m. and all the training teams including mine are now in a convoy formation ready to head out the gate. I am really nervous not because we are traveling at night but because the vehicle that I will be riding in is the last vehicle and I am the rear gunner. I will be responsible for the rear security of the convoy. We head out the gate after we are briefed by our colonel. In just a matter of minutes, the lights of Baghdad grow dimmer and fade into the night. The estimated time for this trip is four hours. This will do a number on my butt because I ride on a bench seat that holds me up in the turret of the truck. The cool weather has made its way into the area because after an hour I am getting cold. It’s not that bad because I ride backward so that I can see the road behind the convoy. The cold wind is blowing behind me but I am protected by a fiberglass shield. As we travel through each little town there are no highway lights. It is easy to see that residents are fortunate to own a generator to supply their electrical needs. For the most part, we were traveling through areas that were totally dark. After about three hours, we stopped at a refueling outpost. We took a short break and we were off again with us being about 1 hour from the destination. It was about 11:30 p.m. when we saw the lights of the city that we were to occupy with our police battalion. We made our way through the outskirts of the city where a long road led us through a series of security checkpoints. We made it! We didn’t get attacked along the way. I was relieved to finally have seen some signs of life in the area. Our convoy was cleared to enter the camp and we made our way to the parking area where they had some barracks assigned to us. Everyone was tired and ready to get some sleep. The trucks were off-loaded and everyone grabbed a bunk for a good night’s sleep. When I hit the mattress I took a moment to thank God for watching over us as we traveled. The roads are very dangerous to travel and riding for 4 hours with my senses on red alert has taken its toll on me. I was exhausted.

NOVEMBER 15 – We awaken to find the camp alive with military personnel from at least 10 countries! I went to the mess hall for breakfast and saw soldiers from Poland, Bosnia, Romania, British, Uganda, Armenia, and Mongolia! This is amazing so many nations work here. I feel like I am at the Olympics. The only thing that is funny is that everyone is afraid to talk to each other because of the language barrier. The common language is English so everyone here does speak a little of it. I am sitting in the mess hall in this camp and across from me are 4 Asian soldiers eating breakfast and sharing a joke between them. At another table is a group from Poland speaking in their native tongue-eating eggs and bacon. Waiting in line mixed with the American soldiers are British, Iraqi, and Romanian soldiers waiting to place their orders for their omelets. I take a moment to reflect on how there are so many people throughout the world. It is a shame that we all don’t know each other. I wanted to bust out into that old Michael Jackson song ‘We are the World’ and hold hands with everyone in the mess hall. No doubt my intentions, even though they were admirable would have been met with strange stares from these soldiers. That’s me; I would like life to be like a musical!

NOVEMBER 16 – To my surprise, we got the order to leave this camp today. We have traveled about 175 miles to get here to find out that the Iraqi Army did even know that our National Police was coming. This unexpected arrival prompted many problems when we got here. For starters, there were no accommodations available for these guys to live. The battalion that I work with was housed at a local veterinarian college outside the city. The place looked more like the state fairgrounds where they judge the livestock. It smelled like it did too. There was this barn-like-looking building that would house our soldiers. They had a few bunk beds inside the building, but there were not enough for everyone. This didn’t sit too well with the Iraqi National Police guys. Whenever the Iraqis would see us coming they would immediately surround us with a barrage of complaints. One Iraqi policeman tells me “We have no heat in this building.” Another one shouts out to me “This place doesn’t have any running water. We need water.” There is an undercurrent of emotion that is slowly rising up in me. I have been a soldier for 24 years and whenever I have gone on a training exercise or mission I was never given the best of accommodations either. As a soldier part of my job is to adapt to any situation that my mission calls for me to be in. I have spent nights in the rain and freezing cold temperatures trying to get some sleep. I have eaten meals in extreme heat with all kinds of bugs buzzing around me! Instead, I see a bunch of guys who are not focused on their purpose for this mission. Don’t get me wrong as a soldier we have complained about our situations too but when it came down to it we sucked it up and made the best of the situation. I learned also that we are under the jurisdiction of the Iraqi top command. They are the higher-ups that decide how we move with the Iraqi National Police. I don’t feel comfortable with that decision, but these Iraqi generals are so indecisive in their decision-making that this is a prime example of what can happen when things are not properly planned. I have also learned that communication within the Iraqi Defense system is poor. I don’t understand the reasoning behind why they wouldn’t communicate with one another. I just don’t like my American leadership putting me and my team at risk of their bad decision-making. So it was decided that the Iraqi National Police head back to Baghdad. We had a chance to do a short patrol within this city. The city I can tell you about now is called Diwaniyah. The city is more populated with people and for what it’s worth it is a lot cleaner than Baghdad. There aren’t that many abandoned buildings here so that added to the problem of trying to find lodging for our guys. I am so excited about returning to camp. It was forecasted that we would stay for at least 3 weeks! I am so relieved to be leaving because we have to start preparing for our replacements. It’s a four-hour ride in the turret, but I think I can suck it up!

NOVEMBER 17 – We made it back around 9 p.m. last night. I am awakened by the sound of incoming rockets into our camp! “Oh come on insurgents,” I think to myself. I hear one rocket and then another, and then another! When it’s all done I think I counted about 5 or 6 impacts to our camp. I wish that I could pinpoint where the guy was who was firing those things! I get up to go have a look outside like I expect to find a huge creator in front of my doorstep. Instead, I find nothing but the civilian contractors sitting in the nearby bunkers. I can’t wait until I leave this place. I have 28 days and counting!

NOVEMBER 19 – Today I am back in the groove of closing out my expense accounts for our team. I have to do a few other things such as order new supplies and drop off old equipment for repair. The camp is filled with so many new faces. The new divisions of units are coming in to replace the old ones. I feel like an old-timer. The familiar faces I once knew in the mess hall are slowly disappearing. The strain of our time here can be seen on our faces and is a contrast to the new personnel in our camp. It’s been a long year. I am mentally making plans for my return back to Charlotte. I have to find a job because when I left I was an IT consultant working for a local firm, so I don’t have to start over again. I will, of course, resume teaching my fitness classes. This is the one activity that I enjoy that affords me the opportunity to motivate so many people. My students have given me the honor to speak into their lives. I don’t want to be known as a celebrity or some kind of guru. My message is simple; understand God’s purpose for your life and then go pursue it with all of your heart, soul, and mind. Lastly, it ecstatically drives me to tears to be reunited with my wife and children. I have missed them so much. This Thanksgiving will be the first Thanksgiving that I will be away from them. My wife is such a great cook! What they will do is leave a place at the table for me. This is to remember me during the meal. The Army will do the same thing in our mess hall. They will set a table for the Unknown Soldier. There will also be a place setting for the soldiers that we have lost in battle. We do this also to never forget our brothers in arms.

NOVEMBER 22 – It’s Thanksgiving! We are given the day off. The mess has prepared a beautiful meal for us at the mess hall. When I walk into the dining room there is an ice sculpture that is a poor attempt by someone to try to shape it into a swan. I am not complaining; I really appreciate the effort. Against the wall is a table that has about seven gingerbread houses on it. Each house is decorated with an assortment of candies and trimming that were made out of strips of icing. I grab my tray and stand in the long-serving line. I finally make my way up to the front where there at five guys who are serving the side dishes such as mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, carrots, and yes my favorite sweet potatoes! I have my plate loaded with my side dishes and I make my way to the guy in the chef’s hat who is craving a turkey that has been smoked. I was certain that we were going to get the Army’s version of a turkey which is usually a processed turkey roll. The chef carved me two beautiful pieces of turkey and put them on my plate. I got my drinks and found my place at a table. I sat there and bowed my head for a moment of prayer. I thanked God for protecting me and my team while we were here in Iraq. I thanked God for my precious wife and kids. I thanked God for my parents, family, and friends. I could feel tears begin to well up in my eyes. I really wanted to be home right now. I was homesick for the moment. It was then that a few members of my team sat down beside me and started talking. Their presence snapped me right out of it. These guys are my family right now. I can’t imagine just how much they were missing their families too. We all were in the same boat together. All we have is each other. I finished my prayer by thanking God for them. The turkey was off the chain!!

NOVEMBER 23 – “Attention, Attention – incoming, incoming!” is the voice that awakens me from my sleep. I look at my watch and it’s about 6:45 a.m. I have been here almost a year and I have not heard anything like that before. I quickly jump up put on my sandals and go to have a look outside. I don’t see anyone running or taking cover. All I can see is the contract workers sitting in the bunkers that are located in between our trailers. I can still hear the voice alert over the public address system saying over and over again “Attention, Attention – incoming, incoming!” I notice my heart is racing. I don’t know what to expect as I am looking in the sky to see if I can see at least a barrage of rockets coming in my direction. I don’t know if I should take off running to one of the nearest bunkers myself. It is a cold brisk morning and the sun is slowly coming upbringing with it more daylight. Then all of a sudden I heard the voice again, “All clear, All clear”. What are these people trying to do to me? When I first came here they would announce over the public address system that there would be a controlled ‘detonation’ in five minutes. When they would announce it you would know that in five minutes you would hear a loud blast. I can tell that this is a new unit here. If this was a test of the emergency alert system it would help to let us know so that we would run out of our rooms frantically taking cover! This doesn’t help especially when I have to be dressed in one hour to leave and go outside the camp into the heart of Baghdad.

NOVEMBER 24 – We have begun to start the beginnings of what I call ‘prep work’ to get ready to turn over everything to our replacements. We are expecting them to be here in 8 days! We have two large shipping connexions that we use as storage. I am responsible for both and I have my work cut out for me. The first connex is easy because that houses our sensitive items such as our radios, night vision equipment, and other communication equipment. My officer watches this area like a hawk because he tells me that this is where the most pain is. We keep a property book for the team and all the items that are on our property book must be accounted for or there will be problems down the road. My officer is an expert in these matters. I have been a drill sergeant for the last 8 years so I haven’t been able to work like this in my original field which is logistics. The second connex is a nightmare! In this area, we keep our ammunition and miscellaneous items such as truck parts and also confiscated weapons taken from the Iraqis. We are not going out as far as I know on any patrols so I have a few days to really sink my teeth into the project. We have been on some many patrols that my office is so caked with dust! The entire team room is dirty and dusty. We have plans to clean everything before these guys get here. I would consider it bad manners to turn over a workspace that is so filthy. Sue me, my wife has me trained!

NOVEMBER 1 – It has been put out that today we will go and visit the new sector that our Iraqi National police will occupy. This is the section of Baghdad that has such a strong JAM (Jaysh Al-Mahdi Militia) influence. This influence is so strong that the last Iraqi National Police battalion that was here was severely corrupted by them. I must not have explained what JAM is. JAM is the Jaysh Al-Mahdi Militia. This is the group of radical militants that you hear about in the news that we are fighting against here in Iraq. These are the ones that are responsible for launching IED (improvised explosion devices) attacks against American troops. I learned from one of our interpreters about the effect this group has on the people of Iraq. One guy told me that this JAM group is so integrated into society that they make it their responsibility to correct the people if they display disobedient acts against Islam. For example, one Iraqi man told me that he was beaten by JAM members because he was found to have been drunk in public. Another man told me that he was stopped by a JAM member for walking down the street with a woman they believed wasn’t his wife. If a woman is not your wife they will marry the both of you right on the spot! Casual relationships such as dating between men and women are not tolerated. To get around this, people will do temporary marriages. I was told that this was done because young men who wanted to have sex could do so under this rule. Also, it would save the honor of the woman and not bring her or her family to public disgrace. She could remarry without the fear of dishonoring her next husband. When the relationship has run its course, then a quick divorce is done to dissolve the marriage. This sector is unique because it houses two small Sunni communities. Since the fall of Saddam, the Shia have been the dominant social group and their dislike of the Sunnis is no big secret around here. We met with the infantry colonel today for a briefing in which he said that the Sunnis are very much protected by American security forces. So much so that Shia sediments about the Sunni have infiltrated the ranks of the Iraqi police, National Police, and yes the Iraqi Army itself.