Homeward bound -- if only for a year

Home means snowboarding, family meals and first-run movies. Home is where you can sleep late and drive around town in a pickup with the windows down and the radio up.

“I want to relax, maybe dress down, put on shorts and a T-shirt instead of wearing a uniform, maybe every once in a while not shave,” Sgt. Jon Bullard said as he prepared to pack up his gear and head home to his wife and 12-year-old daughter.

Bullard and the other soldiers of the 1st Battalion, 8th Infantry Regiment, or the 1-8, are finishing up a one-year tour of duty in Iraq, leaving the portable toilets and processed food of this bleak base 50 miles north of Baghdad for division headquarters in Ft. Carson, Colo.

But home may be a fleeting respite. This was the battalion’s second tour in Iraq, and most think they will be back for a third time, probably in another year.

“I hate this place,” said Spc. Alex Esteban, a 21-year-old Miami native who mapped out plans for a trip to Las Vegas. At home, “I won’t worry about getting shot at or mortared. But there’s a 90% chance that I’ll be back here in a year. I have no choice. It’s my job.”

Outside the former schoolhouse used as a battalion headquarters, the soldiers waited for the Chinook helicopters that would ferry them to nearby Anaconda, the massive air base where they would stay for a few days before heading to Kuwait and beyond.

Delay followed delay. They laid their rucksacks and M-16s on the ground; some dozed beneath the stars daydreaming, smoking cigarettes and chewing tobacco.

The talk turned to politics.

“There is no progress,” said Sgt. Stephen Brodbeck, a 25-year-old Denver native. “We’ve been here doing the same thing for 3 1/2 years. These are the same Iraqi soldiers we tried to train in 2003. We did a lot, but it was all in vain. And the guys we lost, we lost in vain.”

Others chimed in, some vehemently disagreeing.

“We’re helping provide security and buy time for the Iraqi government to step in,” said Capt. Andrew Kletzing, 25, of Chicago. “Every month that goes by, they get a little bit more credibility and a little stronger. In the grand scheme of things it’s making a difference. If we can succeed here, we can change the course of history.”

Still, many of the soldiers despair at how bad things have gotten since they were last here.

“This doesn’t look good, the things here,” said Sgt. Dominie Price, 25, of Wheaton, Ill. “Maybe we don’t see the big picture, and things will be better the next time we come back.”

Almost all have become news junkies in Iraq, hanging on every word spoken by U.S. officials about the war, reading newspapers and news websites for clues about the country’s security situation, any deployment extensions and whether the war will continue for many months or many years.

A sobering toll

It’s been a harsh year for the men and women of the 1-8, a unit of the 3rd Brigade of the 4th Infantry Division, and the rest of the troops in Iraq. At least 780 troops have died in the country since the 4th Infantry deployed here last November, 105 in the last month alone. At least 5,500 troops have been wounded in the last year.

Five guys from the 1-8 won’t be making it back to Ft. Carson. Their comrades recall their names as they were read out during commemorative roll calls:

Staff Sgt. Curtis T. Howard II, 32, of Ann Arbor, Mich.

Sgt. Gordon F. Misner II, 23, of Sparks, Nev.

Sgt. Dimitri Muscat, 21, of Aurora, Colo.

Spc. Thomas J. Wilwerth, 21, of Mastic, N.Y.

Spc. Walter B. Howard II, 35, of Rochester, Mich.

The soldiers cherish memories of home to keep up morale. Back home, though, life has not stopped. Relationships with loved ones have become more strained. Children have grown a year older.

“I’m worried about my son not recognizing me,” said Spc. Joseph D. Leon, 23, of Santa Paula. “It’s been hard just with the kids being so young still and just trying to get them going, and my wife being home by herself taking care of everything.”

First thing he’ll do when he gets home is take his wife, son and daughter to the zoo. “My daughter loves the monkeys running around, and the birds,” he said.

Capt. Mark T. Jenner’s mother died of cancer while he was deployed in Iraq. He’s planning to leave the military. The 26-year-old Cherry Hill, N.J., native is looking forward to spending Thanksgiving with his wife and piecing together a new life as a civilian.

“We’re into wine,” he said. “We had a little hobby of traveling around the Colorado countryside and visiting the vineyards.”

A light rain began, among the first signs of the coming winter. The noontime call to prayers floated across from a nearby mosque as Capt. Keith L. Carter, the departing commander of Bravo Company, set out on what was likely to be his last visit to Balad, a friendly, ramshackle Shiite Muslim farming town that has been the focus of the troops’ attention.

Carter has put on 15 pounds since taking up weight lifting in Iraq. He used to run five or more miles a day. Being here, he says, has changed his physique.

“Since being in Iraq, I can bench press way more than I used to,” he said.

But like many officers here, the low-key 29-year-old Chelmsford, Mass., native wonders whether any of his efforts to train Iraqi forces and improve security have made a difference.

“I think we’re winning,” he said. “But the pace isn’t as rapid as a lot of people would like.”

Confrontation in Balad

A commotion erupted in downtown Balad as the convoy pulled in. Residents gathered near the police headquarters. Carter led a group of men inside. The police chief and mayor were triumphant, showing off a pair of bloodied suspected insurgents they had captured.

A group of Iraqi soldiers and police manning a volatile checkpoint had confronted a car carrying three suspected insurgents. They engaged in a gun battle, killing one man who turned out to be a member of a local security force and arresting the two others, who had dynamite and other munitions in their Toyota sedan.

The suspected insurgents had a map of Balad that obviously came from Americans, giving credence to long-held suspicions that the security force in question, the Iraqi Strategic Infrastructure Battalion, had been infiltrated by insurgents.

“Did the terrorists have this map on them?” Carter asked.

Yes, they replied.

“Good job,” he told them.

The rain clouds dispersed as the patrol pushed through traffic toward the base. Beams of sunlight illuminated the green farmlands.

“They did this by themselves,” Carter said. “We didn’t even know about it.”

Later that night at the base, the next batch of soldiers scheduled to head home started to assemble near headquarters. They clutched their redeployment orders as they waited for roll call. They eventually dozed off, but sprung to life as the roar of the Chinooks began to fill the sky over Iraq.

daragahi@latimes.com