We pulled into the truck lot of a FOB near Tikrit, and parked the gun trucks. This was where the tractor trailers driven by foreign civilian contractors that we escorted were located, and since there was no way in or out for them except by being in a convoy, it got the name Area 51. It was a black hole for all intents and purposes.

There was a large sign coming onto the base that dutifully told us that we were still technically outside the FOB, so our armor was still required to be on, no exceptions, yes that means us. Naturally, this meant that once the truck came to a halt, we jumped out and pulled off our gear to cool off. It was hot making these runs, with the heat of the engine and transmission pouring into the cabin. My truck especially seemed to run on the hot side, so when we had to shut down the air conditioning to prevent the engine from overheating, the cabin temperature would soar into the 150 degree or more range.

While Area 51 was technically outside the base, it was the better part of a kilometer back from the wire and berms. I appreciate the concern that the higher powers have for me, but I need the chance to get back to a normal temperature.

Area 51 was unlit, and the stars stretched out in the heavens above. Free from light pollution, the infinity of the universe was ablaze overhead, Carl Sagan’s billions and billions dutifully shining no matter how infinitesimal. The Milky Way was a bright swath of light; constellations screamed out their location in the sky. The moon, however, was not present, so Area 51 was pitch black other than the headlights of the occasional passing vehicle and the beams from flashlights held by passers-by.

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