This morning I left the base that cannot be named in a country that cannot be named for a hotel in a city nearby.
I got my passport back; I had no more reason to stay on this base.
And I have to say that I didn’t like this base very much. Leaving it really felt like regaining my liberty.
On Camp Taji I slept in a closet, but I did sleep well in that closet, the people were friendly and I have fond memories of an evening of poker.
On this last military camp the guy working for the “media transit team” was doing two things: watching movies or playing cards on his computer.
He did mind his own business, which is the good thing.
But I could not help thinking of a very friendly sergeant in Camp Taji who had sent me a mail to thank me for my time. She expressed the hope that my articles will inform readers on “a war that most feel should be ‘canceled due to lack of interest’”.