The Dump

I went to the FOB dump today. I bumped into a friend who had the back of his pickup full of boxes and empty water bottles, and he had a dump trip planned. As we exited the chow hall talking about it, a small bearded guy dressed all in blue, including his baseball cap, overheard us and asked us who we needed to see there. Apparently it’s quite the place to conduct business. We told Blue Guy we just needed to drop off some garbage, and he inquired about the size of the load, its contents, our vehicle, all that technical dump stuff. We could tell he had an in at the dump, and sure enough, he said proudly with a big stained-tooth smile that he runs it.

He then gave us detailed instructions about how to get there, which he concluded with a grin, a wink and a nod saying “Just look for the smoke.”

We drove around the perimeter of the FOB toward the dump. On the way, we saw three Iraqi kids digging something just outside the wire; 3 kids, 2 shovels, and 1 bicycle. We speculated that they were emplacing an IED, but if so, it was way too far off the road.

We followed the smoke to the dump and waited a few minutes for Blue Guy to get there to unlock the gate. I always wonder why they lock dumps; afraid someone will steal the garbage? Anyway, we got in past another grin, dumped our trash, and drove out. While there, some Air Force guys drove up, apparently through an ungated back entrance. They circled the dump a couple of times and drove off in a cloud of dust.

When we got back, I told my driver “Thanks, dad” because it had reminded me of going to the dump with my dad when I was a kid, which I always enjoyed. He said, “That was a fun Saturday trip” even though it’s Thursday. I guess everyone likes to go to the dump. Blue Guy surely does.