I had to fill a sandbag before I could enter the chow hall this morning to eat breakfast. It's a new rule at this forward operating base south of Baghdad where I've been traveling with soldiers from the 1st Battalion, 501st Parachute Infantry Regiment for most of the week. I guess I probably could have said no, argued that I was a civilian or that by doing so I would break some sort of magical neutrality and become a combatant. But I filled it with whatever patriotism I could muster at 6:30 a.m., and then went about my business as a reporter and asked everyone around me, "Why?"
"They're for OP-3," most of the troops said with a certain pride before tossing their heavy green sacks onto ever-growing pyramids and walking smartly off to chow. This is the story of how I tracked my sandbag to OP-3...
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