M&Ms and Cigarettes

Breakfast, compliments of Soldier (The M&Ms anyway), as I waited for my flight at Baghdad International Airport.

During the trip to the airport, my Iraqi driver was petal to the metal, scanning the road, the neighborhoods to each side, and each and every driver who pulled up on either side of us. He was very nervous today. But he's always been an aggressive driver. He nearly ran into one of the humvees he was delivering me to one day. The U.S. Colonel was just about to give him hell when he realized I was in the car. (I apologized).

I met a South African man, a security contractor, who ushered me in with his folks once I got to the airport. He treated me like one of his own (since MY own were nowhere to be found, or still asleep at the bureau). He works at the airport and told me a rocket hit the new terminal a couple of weeks ago. A rocket also landed very close to the Royal Jordanian flight that had just landed.

My RJ flight was late, as usual. Maybe they were trying to throw off anyone aiming a rocket their way. But there are always excuses. One recently delayed flight, they came up with three different explanations: Security concerns, a troubled engine, and the weather. Now they don't even bother.