The American Spectator

At Large

(Page 2 of 4)

br> TODAY IS ELECTION DAY. The silence is still deafening. I have gone to the roof several times with my binoculars and I see nothing. No tell tale signals of smoke from exploding car-bombs. No sounds of machine gun or AK-47 fire. No sounds of the wailing sirens of Iraqi police racing all over town as one usually hears every day. /p>

Last night I read early reports on CNN of sabotage having collapsed electric power in Baghdad and large parts of the country. I ran up to the roof and saw nothing different from any other night. The large, nearby mosque that often provides the background shot for Baghdad-based news programs was ablaze with lights. But it probably has its own generator.

I am beginning to wonder if the Iraqi security forces and the U.S. Army have things under such tight control that terrorists won't attempt even a token attack. I read that so far, turnout is moderate. Turnout is one of the major points of concern inside the Coalition. Unless turnout is high, no matter what the outcome or what the margin of victory, the results will be tarnished and made to seem illegitimate.

Today's silence has really been quite pervasive. Everything is closed; even the little store down our dusty street that never closes. I went for a short walk past the store and on my way back passed by a guy going in the other direction. I waved my index finger at him and he waved his back. The end of it was stained a deep wine color. Once you have voted you have to dip your right index finger in a little cup filled with a stain. Before voting, you must display your finger to the election worker and, if it's clean, you get to vote. This prevents the quaint old "vote early and vote often" practice that is (or was) so prevalent in some Democratic precincts in Chicago.

As the day went by and my boredom grew, I decided to visit a polling station to do some political research. I disposed of all my guns and armor since today, no one, except soldiers, can carry weapons. I also left my DoD card and passport behind since I figured that if I am kidnapped I don't want to show up on the evening news squatting in front of a camera with my passport displayed and an AK-47 pointed at my head. If they want to know who I am, I will let them guess.

As I set sail to the polling station, I did feel a bit naked since I have never been outside, even within our enclave, without my flak jacket on. I gingerly stepped over the gate as the Kurdish Guards gave me a bit of a curious look. They have never seen any of us walk out the gate. We always drive in our small SUV. I figured that if I started talking I would interrupt their train of thought, so I just gave them the standard Iraqi greeting: "Sallam alechum," and patted my chest. From one came the standard reply: "Alechum Sallam." I kept walking. Just as the polling station came into view about 150 yards away, I heard a pair of very piercing whistles coming from behind. I turned around to see if someone was whistling at me. The sun in my eyes was so bright I couldn't tell who had whistled, or at whom, so I kept walking. Very shortly after that I heard the first firing of the day. It was one of the guards I had greeted who was firing in the air and waving very clearly at me to stop. By the time I was able to give him a questioning look he was running toward me. When he reached me he grabbed my arm and just said: "No, no no no no, no!!" Over and over again.

When he got me back inside the gate, all he said, one more time very emphatically, as if talking to a disobedient dog, was: "NO, NO,NO." I replied, "OK."

THE POLLS CLOSED LITERALLY a minute ago. The people in charge of security today must be letting out an immense and very long sigh of great relief!

Just as I finished typing that sentence all hell broke loose! Heavy machine gun fire, nonstop AK fire, all of it from less than 200 yards north of us. I raced up to the roof with my M-5 along with one of my colleagues who has been here twice as long as I have. All I could hear him say was: "This is much worse than right after the last election."

I stood on the roof trying to figure out what was going on. I was immediately able to see the back of the well-known news anchor at the media company next door, doing her live on-camera report. Since she had such great sound effects going on outside, I'm sure she will be justified in asking her employer for combat pay.

"Happy fire" is a frequent symptom of a celebration in the Middle East. We have all seen it on TV every night. Men shooting wildly in the air. From the roof all we could do was to hear the fire. We couldn't see any of the guys firing to judge where it was being aimed. I finally did spy one of our Kurdish guards close to the noise looking in the direction of the sound, but he had his weapon dangling by his side. I concluded this was "happy fire." I still don't know if I was right, but after 20 minutes the firing stopped and has not resumed.

So the day that so many dreaded, and so many thought would be full of carnage, came and went. Moments ago it was described in a news broadcast as "one of the most peaceful days in Iraq in many months...perhaps in the past year."

p> Sunday

topics:
Islam, Constitution, Military, Iraq, Iran