Class Project on Antidotes
Chase scenes happen for a reason. Animosity of some sort is the leading impetus for such behavior. Film never portrays two cars racing down narrow streets, careening past crowded masses of shoppers, risking life and limb simply to return an umbrella that was left behind at a cafe. No, chase scenes always require a conflict. The exception to this rule is, my battle buddies in Iraq and I. We tend to challenge cinematic stereotypes. As this story begins, you should know that we recently fell in love with the dark mistresses of mischief and photography.
This adventure began as innocently as a lamb. Well, that would be true if the lamb was foul-mouthed, carried an assault weapon and somehow found an Army Combat Uniform made to specifically fit a lamb. The evening in question, my buddies Nace, Kennedy, Nurmela and I were driving around on our base in southern Iraq. We had a Ford Explorer, a full tank of gas and nervous ambition to spare. Needless to say, we had limitless potential to do something outstanding and rational.
In the distance I caught a glimpse of the natural gas flames which burned day and night, they seemed to beg to have their pictures taken. As I gazed at these lovely points of light on the horizon, I knew this was not only a journey of reckless abandon. I decided I wanted to increase my prowess at nighttime photography. “Tim,” I said to Nace, “will you stop the vehicle so I can get a picture of the fires?”
“Dude,” Nace said, “I will do you one better, we are going out to the perimeter.”
The perimeter of our base was basically a fifteen mile fence-line that surrounded our base. Just inside the perimeter was a small, paved road that was primarily used for construction vehicles that needed to get around the base for various building projects that were going on. We knew that we had never been told not to go out there in the late evening, so naturally it must have been ok –right?
While we drove out to the perimeter we talked about what the fires were. Nurmela revealed that the natural gas needed to be burned off the top of oil fields before they could have any oil pumped out. The pressure from the natural gas made drilling for oil impossible. Geologists and oil company executives flew from all around the world to find a better solution to this problem rather than just burning thousands of dollars of natural gas every day. We all offered our arm-chair oil engineering opinions of what they should do. I am not sure if any of our ideas were feasible because rather then addressing the topic at hand they mostly focused on the ska band Less Then Jake, good movies and UFC fighting.
We continued our discourse on these relevant topics of the day, until we got to the point on the perimeter for photography perfection. We all got out of the vehicle and tried to find the spot for our photos. With the catlike agility that chubby Norwegian boys are known for I leapt on top of the SUV. Nace was soon to follow, he never missed a chance to climb on something. He glanced at me for a second and smiled.
“Wow, that is pretty good for a fat kid!” Nace yelled.
“Thanks, jerk,” I replied.
His gentle ribbing didn't bother me too much because I was filled with confidence that a picture of the flames over the top of the razor wire fence would build a feeling of pain and agony which screamed artistic integrity.
We took pictures for about five minutes, adjusting our lens sensitivity and flash level in the hope that we could get the shot that would one day adorn the living rooms of the nation. I was sure that the picture would hang over tastefully tasteless furniture in exquisite rooms, framed and matted. Many people would comment about the sensitivity it displayed in a harsh environment.
“Hey, do you see headlights over there?” Kennedy asked.
Sure enough in the distance we saw headlights which we knew were from the Toyota light pickups driven by Sabre. Sabre was the private security company in charge of our on-base security.
“Do you think we should take off,” Nurmela asked, “like, do you think we will get in trouble?”
“Well, probably will get a stern lecture,” Kennedy replied.
Since none of us enjoyed negative discourse we decided that it was the appropriate time to conclude our photographic essays.
We immediately got back in the vehicle with only a second delay to adjust for my hand being slammed in the Explorer's door as I was trying a flawless dismount off the roof.
Once we got back into the vehicle, Nace started the engine and pulled a U-turn right away.
“We are going to have to ghost ride the whip!” Nace said.
“Ghost riding the whip” meant that we decided to drive sans headlights with the moon as our only light. We drove like this for a quarter mile, the Security guards drawing slightly closer to us by the minute. I felt a long-lost surge of adrenaline which I had been missing the entire deployment.
As we neared a large corner, Nace realized that he couldn't see well enough and would need some sort of light to execute this turn and still be safe. Nace always was a very prepared soldier and immediately pulled a high powered flashlight from his pocket and held it outside the driver's side window giving himself just enough light to see by as we careened around the corner.
“Dude, we need to get out of here,” Kennedy remarked, “they are gaining on us slightly.”
It was true that they were drawing near to us as we drove. However, it seemed like they were still maintaining a sensible speed for conditions on the perimeter road. I knew that if the situation was different I probably would have complimented our pursuers on their excellent driving.
As we left the corner we were able to pick up a little speed without appearing to drive recklessly ourselves. This was proving to be the most sensible car chase ever.
Nace finally turned on the headlights right as we got to the turn that would lead us back into the base. We continued to be followed by the Sabre guards which were now probably a bit peeved at this tomfoolery. We got onto the base, and turned into a parking lot for the PX, our on-base department store.
We exhibited nonchalance as we ambled out of the SUV and into the PX area. I sighed as I saw the Sabre truck pull slowly by the parking lot. I knew that once we had gotten out of the vehicle they would have no way of knowing it was us which brought them on this wild-goose chase. I also knew that we needed coffee to cap off an adventure like this.
As we sipped our lattes at the small coffee stand just off of the PX, we discussed other fun mischief we could get into that night. But, we did not do any more things like this. There are only so many times you can play with – or take pictures of – fire before you get burned.
