Redeployment

by Phil Klay

“It wasn’t my idea,” said Bob. “We remade the Ministry of Agriculture on free market principles, but the invisible hand of the market started planting IEDs.”

“Give someone a job. That’s economic improvement. Give women a job. That’s women’s empowerment. Give a widow a job. That’s aiding disenfranchised populations. Three LOEs in one project. Widow projects are gold. With the council supporting it, we can say it’s an Iraqi-led project. And it’ll cost under twenty-five thousand dollars, so the funding will sail through.”

“Istalquaal? Istiqlal means independence,” he said. “Istalquaal means nothing. It means Americans can’t speak Arabic.”

On the drive back, the Professor explained the marriages to me in the tone you’d use to speak with a mentally deficient golden retriever. “Nikah mut’ah,” he said. “Shi’a allow temporary marriages. Shi’a marry a woman for an hour, the next day marry another.” “Oh,” I said. “Prostitution.” “Prostitution is illegal under Islam,” said the Professor.

“Of course not,” said Major Zima, “they don’t have bats yet.” “I don’t want to see U.S.-supplied equipment in a torture video,” I said. “Too late for that,” said Major Zima. “Besides, if there’s one thing I’ve learned doing Civil Affairs in Iraq, it’s that it’s hard to come in and change people’s culture.” “What do you mean?” I said. “Right now,” he said, “the Shi’a are pretty set in their ways of drilling people to death. And the Sunnis like to cut off heads. I don’t think we’ll manage to change that with baseball bats.” “Jesus,” I said. “I don’t want to be a part of it.”

It was like confessing your sins to Daffy Duck.

“How many Vietnam vets does it take to screw in a lightbulb?” “You wouldn’t know, you weren’t there.”

There’s a perversity in me that, when I talk to conservatives, makes me want to bash the war and, when I talk to liberals, defend it.

In this city, smoking’ll kill your bank account way before it kills your lungs.

I already had some experience as a true believer, and if the Marine Corps was any indication, idealism-based jobs didn’t save you from wanting to shoot yourself in the head.