My life currently revolves around two dates. The date I have to leave for Iraq, and the date I gain my freedom after the shift. The vicious circle repeats itself every 28 days. The best moment happens when I land in Dubai (or Doha) and check myself into the transit hotel, or the airport lounge. “Civilization” Ahhh. “Taste of Freedom” Oh yes. “Starbucks” Hmm Neat…

That feeling is however shortlived. As soon as I arrive home the next morning, my mental clock immediately starts the countdown to the next departure.

27, 26, 25, 24,…

Basra Airport has that 70s vibe

Arriving in Doha - literally the best feeling. That sweet, sweet smell of freedom.

Going home

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