S'mores turn up in unlikely places
In Baghdad, the aid workers had the campfire, marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers – a perfect recipe for s'mores, right? Well, maybe not.
from the April 11, 2007 edition
Page 2 of 4
As I stood near the flame, quietly roasting a marshmallow, random gunfire shot across the river and then became automatic. This was a fairly normal background noise in our compound, but tended to make me squirm.
Suddenly Sean cried out, "Incoming! Get inside! Mortar!"
Instantly, people scattered, and the fire pit burned alone. I didn't even stop to look up at the sky to ascertain the threat. I ran fast and hard for the open door to the house. I took the steps in one leap, threw my marshmallow stick to the ground, and ducked inside.
Ten of us piled into a little bathroom and didn't emerge until we were sure that the mortar had passed and hadn't exploded.
When we looked back outside, the sky was full of little red lights – tracers – darting straight up into the air like a swarm of bees.
Then a phone call came through to reassure us. No, the compound wasn't being attacked. The Iraqis had beaten the Syrians in a major soccer match, and the resulting celebration included firing automatic weapons into the air.
A few minutes later, our security radio confirmed the details in the phone call.
As the bullet show continued, we remained safe inside the double-thick cement house. Before long, we all started to relax, brought out the snacks again, and the party continued.
The conversation was easy and calm, as people munched on potato chips while stray bullets flew outside the windows.
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