The Dump

We went to the dump today, two of my buddies and I. A dump is a normal fixture at any base in Iraq- I've already explored scrap piles at Ramadi and Habbaniyah. Dumps interest me; I like to see what other people have no more use for. I like to put into practice the old saying: "One man's trash is another man's treasure". I've always been that way; a trip to the dump with my dad as a kid almost always ended in him trying to keep me from dragging home more trash.

Most of the material in this dump is useless- torn and burned hulks of vehicles, both ours and Iraqi, tangled snarls of old concertina wire, expended brass and used portable rocket launchers. The Falluja dump is also home to a collection of rusting Iraqi anti-aircraft guns. They sit along one wall with their barrels criss-crossed towards the sky, slowly rusting into the sand.

There's always something usable in amongst the trash, though. Today's visit produced a handful of portable individual radios- small sets with a 1-kilometer or so range, from which we were able to cobble together several working sets. One of my buddies found an small old-fashioned oil can, made of brass and about the same size and shape as an old pocket watch.