Back to the party

I heard that Martin Sheen and O magazine were at Camp II, and decided to catch a ride over and see what was up. Martin Sheen had led a rosary, which was apparently so lovely that Tina- who is rather nervous around “churchy” things, found herself participating.

I found friends that I hadn’t seen all day, among them Tina and Saif. They’d gone into town and visited the Yellow Rose and “Camp Quall”, mingled among the Bush supporters and tried to have good conversation. Some of the folks in town were friendly and open, some were not. A woman asked Saif where his accent was from, and he answered India. She responded, “I don’t like Indians.” And walked away. Tina had what she thought was a good exchange, and she bought some souvenirs at the Yellow Rose. Including a postcard with Laura Bush’s guacamole recipe, which cracked her up. “Who needs a recipe for guacamole?” she wanted to know. Saif rang the big Liberty Bell in front of the store, which was apparently extremely loud.

Dinner was served at Camp II, and we all sat down to eat. A young man from Crawford walked over to our table and asked me if we’d be willing to talk to him. Of course! Sit down, introduce yourself!

He was 19, and said he wasn’t on one side or the other, but was curious and open. He’d spent time at Camp Quall talking to everyone there, and then wanted to get to know Camp Casey. He said he’d asked some friends to come out with him, but they were all rednecks and didn’t want to hear what we had to say (his words, not mine).

He stayed at the table for quite a while, chatting with Tina and Saif and Dave and several others of our new crowd who wandered by from time to time. When last I saw him, he was sitting down with a film crew, preparing for an interview, “your turn,” I winked. He smiled and nodded.

Movie night under the tent. The VFP showed their video of the beginning, the first day. Then they showed their movie, “Beyond Treason”, which documents the experimental drugs used on Gulf I troops, and the exposures they suffered to chemical agents and depleted uranium. It also illustrates the effects of uranium contamination on the Iraqi population over the last 10 years, and our government’s shameful denial of veteran’s claims. I walked over to Fred and Dennis, clasped their shoulders and said, “You guys rock.” Fred laughed his Fred laugh and said, “Yeah, we kick ass!”

Eric, Tina, and I ended up joining Fred for the rest of the movies. Tina and Eric both bought copies of “Beyond Treason”. We made plans to transfer ownership of our mansion tent to them the next morning, and of course, to meet in DC on September 24.

A Blue Star mom stood up with Ann and said that her son’s unit had made a DVD of their experiences, using stills captured on cell phones and digital cameras. They couldn’t get it to play on the projector, so a small group of us gathered around a laptop and watched the video. It showed soldiers in all sorts of situations: stalking the streets with guns, posing with smiling children, driving humvees. It was set to music, a song that I haven’t heard before. The refrain was something like, “love me when I’m not me,” something like that. The mom who’d brought the DVD cried when she said that the video made her hopeful that when her son came home, there’d be enough left of him to heal, and find normalcy again. Ann Wright hugged her, I patted her shoulder.

Eric volunteered for 11:00 to 1:00 security duty. We walked Dave Chase out to his car, the Anti-Bush Wagon that has been shown on several news sites. His van towed a trailer that he’d covered with things like “Bush is a Deserter from the Truth”. Dave was driving back to San Diego. I heard from him on Tuesday, he left a message saying he was driving through Albuquerque.

Saif said he had to hit the road. It was about 11:30, and he had a 14-hour drive back to Chicago. We walked to his car, and he gave us a ride back to camp. He blasted trip-hop and zoomed down the lanes, startling the secret service at the entrance to the “ranch”, who flashed spotlights while Tina and I squealed for Saif to slow down.