CAMP LIBERTY, Iraq8212;The world we live in is often full of strife, prejudice, anger and unfortunately, war. Sadly, there are few people, places or things, which offer sanctuary from these ever-increasing conflicts, but they do exist.
The temples of my religion are one such place, as I am sure the meetinghouses and structures of most religions are. However, odd as this may seem, for all of the serenity, peace and solitude those buildings offer, they still do not include or accept everyone. Well, at least not in the ways U.S. military dining facilities (DFAC) located in Iraq or Afghanistan do.
Nowhere on earth will you find the diversity, culture, discussions, smiles and laughter that you do in a combat-zone DFAC. There, the playing field is even. Everyone has the same opportunity to feast on the same foods, to enjoy the company of people of all races, religions and creeds and to sit eye to eye with high-ranking officials from various walks of life.
More often than not, outside the DFAC, regardless of my abilities or intellect, I am probably viewed by my peers, leaders and others in my most basic form; a male Caucasian Army Specialist. Truthfully, in this uniform, I am a mere three ranks from the bottom of the military food chain and I often feel that I am only as valuable as the last task I completed or the last order I executed.
Inside the DFAC, however, I am Doug and I am equal. The DFAC would make the meeting floor of the United Nations Headquarters look like an exclusive gentlemen’s-only club. Moreover, in the DFAC I sit with or near other high-ranking military officials and I can choose to eat what they eat, forgetting for at least a moment the world in which I currently dwell and work just a few feet outside the DFAC doors and walls.
There are so many different nuances contained inside those walls. There is a plethora of food from different cultures to choose, all of it laid out for the taking, waiting to be consumed by everyone and anyone.
Flags of different countries hang from the ceiling in that building: flags of countries that have been at war over the ages, flags of countries that are still at war and flags of countries on opposite sides of the planet. The best part, however, is that the people of those lands are happily eating and at peace with one another when gathered in that building.
Additionally, flags of various sports teams and American universities hang there. Sworn enemies on the field hang softly and quietly next to one another. In fact, every time I eat, I have to chuckle a bit and wonder what the bitter rivals (aka fans) of the U and Brigham Young University would think if they saw their two schools’ banners peacefully hanging not more than a few feet from each other.
That, however, is the point. In the DFAC, it does not matter who or what you are or where your affiliations lie. In there, the diners do not discriminate. Although the clock continuously ticks (and for some of us, our missions and jobs dictate our mealtime) from the moment each of us sits down to eat, we can interact, joke, talk (even about politics and beliefs) and generally not worry about offending each other, even if outside those walls and inside our frequently ignorant hearts, we are sworn enemies and rivals.
When it is all said and done, the only walls and boundaries the DFAC has are the ones which hold up the roof and keep the elements of nature out. In a lone and dreary world where most people live on a mere $2 a day, the DFAC gladly welcomes, cares for, and nourishes anyone.
Editor’s Note8212;Douglas L. York is a former U student serving with the Utah Army Air National Guard’s 128th Mobile Public Affairs Detachment in Baghdad, Iraq. For feedback on this column or its contents write Douglas at [email protected] or via the USPS at:
Spc. Douglas L. York
DSTB, 4th ID (PAO)
Unit #43119
APO, AE 09344