The three are part of the 16-man 2nd Platoon of Bravo Company, 2nd Battalion of the 8th Cavalry Regiment, 1st Cavalry Division. The battalion is based in Fort Hood, Tex., but operates in Iraq out of Camp Cuervo, about six miles southeast of Sadr City. Half the platoon is married; just three are nonsmokers.
Thankful for the Armor
Not even Camp Cuervo is totally safe for them; mortar shells land frequently inside the compound. On Wednesday, soldiers heard a loud thump, followed seconds later by a screaming whistle and then an explosion just outside the camp hospital. The blast, which was believed to be caused by a rocket, shattered the windows of rooms housing the battalion physicians, but caused no injuries.
Salakchay Monivong, 21, a Laotian immigrant, was drawn into the service by the allure of money for college tuition.
(Steve Fainaru -- The Washington Post)
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"Jesus, I was just standing there two minutes ago," an American contractor told a reporter as they ducked behind a wall. About 100 yards away, a plume of smoke and dust rose from a courtyard in front of the hospital.
That same afternoon, a mortar shell landed near a huge white tent that serves as the base dining hall. The men of the 2nd Platoon, on break from patrolling, never moved. "We're used to it," said Sgt. Ben Brown, 27, of Tomball, Tex.
The platoon's operations begin with businesslike efficiency. The men don bulletproof vests and helmets and load up the four Humvees parked outside their barracks with coolers containing water, Gatorade and Red Bull.
At exactly 3 p.m. one day, the platoon leader, Lt. Tye Graham, 23, a West Point graduate from Pecos, Tex., yells, "mount up." The soldiers snub out their cigarettes and climb inside the vehicles.
"I never used to be super-punctual," says Varney, steering and loading a 9mm pistol and a black M-16 assault rifle. "Now even as a civilian I am."
Varney, an amateur guitar player, is white and thin, his manner quiet and laconic. His military fatigues cover a lavish tattoo of dice and guitars and webs that snakes up his right arm. Stewart, who is African American, normally rides in a different Humvee, but on this day has filled the spot of another soldier who is on leave. Stewart seems like a more serious older brother to Varney and Monivong, whose smiling, easygoing manner seems incongruous as he stands behind the huge .50-caliber machine gun.
The vehicles move up and down the maze of Sadr City streets, nearly indistinguishable to an outsider, turning back at a busy intersection that the military calls Route Gold. The area to the south represents about 20 percent of Sadr City and is relatively peaceful. The area to the north of Route Gold is increasingly hostile -- crossing into it in Humvees will almost certainly draw fire.
The convoy takes a wrong turn, and Varney, trying to turn around, backs the Humvee into a concrete wall.
"Can we go a day without hitting something?" says Stewart, exasperated.
Children run toward the convoy; most wave, flash a thumbs up and jump up and down with excitement. Some gather rocks to hurl at the Americans. As the Humvees move up and down the streets, their radio antennas and guns brush against thousands of sagging power lines that are used to pirate electricity into the concrete homes. The antennas cause the lines to jump and occasionally sever them.
Every 25 minutes or so, the vehicles stop inside a courtyard. They park in a loose circle and point their guns at the neighborhood while the soldiers dismount to smoke, chat and regroup.
The conversation turns to the day before, when the roadside bomb exploded next to the convoy. Two of the platoon's four gunners, exposed in their hatches, were injured by the blast: Spec. Clarence Maxwell, who took a piece of shrapnel in his right shoulder, separating it, and Spec. Gregory King, who suffered a concussion.
