Light in the Darkness
Light and darkness had many associations to me. I related darkness with cold, gloom, despair, lostness, chaos, and danger. I perceived light as an antidote to darkness. In the light, one is able to see and find one's way; I connected it with relief and rejoicing; in the light I felt safe and warm. However, I never fully experienced the contrast until my first deployment to Iraq to serve as a nurse in the Contingency Air Staging Facility.
It was winter 2004, shortly after Christmas, and it was my first night in Camp Sather, a 132-tent city that housed approximately 1,300 airmen. The camp, located on the west side of Baghdad International Airport, was part of the Green Zone, and it was frequently shelled by insurgents with mortars and rockets. I arrived earlier that day donned in battle rattle and Kevlar. The plane that brought us to the airport engaged in a combat landing, banking sharply to the right, then to the left, finally plunging into a steep descent at such a high rate of speed that I thought we were going to crash. After checking in, we were taken to my tent, one that I shared with eight other medical people. The streets were lined with tents that looked all the same to me. I was impressed that the chapel tent located two tents from mine had a porch lined with lighted Christmas trees.
After all of the activity of the day, I found my way to the shower tent. It was dusk, and I left my Kevlar by my bunk, thinking I probably would not need it that time of night. Big mistake.
In the middle of my shower, I heard loud booms followed by the giant voice announcement, "Alarm Red, take cover!" The person in the shower next me muttered an expletive, and hurriedly left. By the time I got dried, and out of the shower, everyone had left the shower tent.
I considered my options on what to do next. If I stayed in the shower tent, I did not have my Kevlar with me, so I was not safe. If I ventured out into the tent city, I was not sure if I could find my tent in the dark. I decided that rather than stay at the shower tent, I determined to get back to my tent.
I ventured out, and everything was dark and quiet. I learned later that during alarm conditions, all unnecessary lighting is put out. I was scared, and I did not know the process to follow during an Alarm Red. However, I continued walking towards what I hoped was the general location of my tent. The sameness I experienced in the daylight was accentuated in the night, and I imagined myself wondering through multiple streets of tents without recognizing my tent. Suddenly, I spotted in the distance the multi-colored Christmas tree lights. The chapel tent! It was like a beacon beckoning me. I ran to it, and I gratefully found my tent.
I learned two valuable lessons that night: NEVER go anywhere without my Kevlar and helmet, and God uses light in all situations to give comfort and support. I truly felt His support that night.
Ron