I had to ride the "Rhino" (armored bus) up to Camp Victory a few days back, to deliver hand-deliver some material for a project. I got to meet some new people and see a whole new side of the war that was pretty interesting. Unfortunately I can't go into a ton of detail about it here...but needless to say there are some pretty smart, hard-working motherf-er's on this planet and I'm glad most of them are on our side.
On the trip back to the IZ we were just about to leave and there was one empty seat facing me, it was filled just before departure by an out-of-breath Brit. I took one look at him and thought to myself "FNG"!
If you've never been in the military or don't read many war-related books, maybe you've never encountered the acronym. I believe the origins of the term FNG go back to Vietnam. I don't think it was any earlier than that. Now, whole units deploy to Iraq or Afghanistan as a cohesive group and stay together for the full year in country. In Vietnam soldiers were drafted, went to basic training and then were flown off to Vietnam and assigned to units willy-nilly. So there were new personnel always arriving to the unit, often to replace someone who'd been killed or wounded.
The NG stands for New Guy...can you guess what the F stands for? It's usually a term of derision.
How could I tell this bloke was a FNG? First, he had the crazy wide eyes...darting about...with just a hint of panic. He also had no idea how to do up his seat belt (a four point system) with a center "twist" buckle. I offered advice of how to strap himself in and had a nice little chat with him during the ride.
His name was Ian. He was born in Liverpool and had the exact same accent Paul McCartney had when you see him in the early days of the Beatles. I told Ian I'd been stationed in England before and we talked about previous assignments. I'd guess he was in his late 30's or early 40's, had been around a bit, but this was his first time in Iraq. He was a bit worried about the ride across Baghdad and security conditions in Iraq in general. The incident in Afghanistan where a local policeman had killed 5 British trainers had just happened a couple days previous. Unlike the stories of FNG treatment I'd read about in Vietnam, I actually tried to put Ian's mind at ease and went out of my way to explain how things are now in Iraq and how relatively safe we are. Why am I so nice? It would have been funner to mess with his head, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.
And I should have. I mean he's only here for six months. He just arrived and he'll be leaving before me. Is there any justice in the world? Oh wait, my teeth are straight and I don't have that totally gay accent. All the smart, motivated Brits moved to America several hundred years ago.
Ian is here to work for a small NATO contingent that trains Iraqi soldiers and police (now you know why he seemed so worried). They live and work down here at FOB Union III. There are folks from lots of countries, burly Ukrainians, scrawny Italians, hot Dutch chicks, the gamut. A bunch of good people really. I think I may have mentioned Sergei, the Ukrainan who I run into a lot. He has actually been to Votkinsk, the town where I worked in Russia for my previous job. Back in the Soviet Union days he drove the missiles to and from the factory. Small world huh? If you ever want to get a Ukrainian excited...ask them how much they like Russians.
Back to Ian, the FNG. As I mentioned...I was trying to help Ian out...calm him down...explain what was going on. As we leave our bases, we load a magazine of ammo into our weapons...just in case. So before we left I explained that all to Ian, he popped a magazine in his pistol along with the rest of us at the proper moment. Once you arrive at your destination, you get out of the vehicle and "clear" your weapon, remove the magazine and check the chamber/barrel to ensure there aren't any bullets left behind. This (hopefully) prevents any accidental shootings. Well after we get back on the Rhino I notice that Ian's magazine is empty. He hasn't even been issued ammo yet. How hilarious is that? I'd had him load an empty magazine into his weapon. Here I am making fun of the FNG and he's thinking to himself, "why is this bloody yank wanker telling me to put an empty mag into me barker? Bollocks!"
And that dear friends, is why you should always be nice to a FNG. We were all there once, and no one is immune from a bit of irrational behavior now and then.
See you around the FOB Ian!