AP blog from Iraq
TUESDAY, April 11, 9:15 p.m. local
CAMP VICTORY, Baghdad, Iraq:
As a reporter who usually shares living quarters with U.S. soldiers across Iraq, I hear my fair share of peculiar stories, some true and others exaggerated. I've heard few stories comparable to Cpl. Phillip Heyde's recent ordeal.
Heyde told his story as I was sitting on the hood of a Humvee, watching Iraqi soldiers inspect cars at a checkpoint down the road of a farming area in west Baghdad. These days the U.S. military is trying to shift security responsibilities to Iraqi troops - which makes for lots of conversation with idle Americans.
In late February, Heyde recounted, his unit found a roadside bomb while he was patrolling near the Baghdad airport to deter Iraqis from greeting incoming planes with gunfire. Heyde scanned the distance from the turret atop his Humvee and noticed a thunderstorm in the distance. Things seemed calm enough - until a blast struck his Humvee, sending him crumpling down.
Fellow soldiers said he was mumbling and flopping around on the road. Heyde thought he had been hit by a roadside bomb.
Instead, on the edge of the vast Mesopotamian desert, Cpl. Heyde had been struck down by a bolt of lightning.
"I woke up and all I heard was my heart freaking out," said Heyde, 23, imitating the thumping sound that he heard from his chest.
Frantic soldiers rushed to help him. At some point someone informed their command that a soldier had been hit by lightning.
On the way back to base, Heyde's soldiers took special precautions to help their friend.
"No one would let me out of the truck because there was still lightning outside," said Heyde, a soldier known for his broad grin and freckles. "I just wanted to go home. I was soaking wet."
When he told his wife back home about the patrol, she didn't believe him until a commander back in the U.S. informed her.
"She looked up the long-term effects on the Internet and that's when she started to freak out," said Heyde, a native of South Bend, Indiana.
Though some body parts acted abnormally for the first few days, Heyde says he's mostly recovered now. The novelty of being a soldier struck by lightning quickly wore off - only two days off duty were granted, he said.
"I asked for a two day extension in my leave, but they didn't give it," said Heyde. "They don't even talk about it anymore."
A few days after I first met Cpl. Heyde, I ran into him again, this time eating a slice of pizza at a Pizza Hut on base. He initially mistook me for someone else.
"It's the lightning, man," he explained with a smile, before inviting me to sit down and eat with him.
_Antonio Castaneda
Mercury News
This AP Blog thing is becoming more popular, I see it carried by more papers now.
CAMP VICTORY, Baghdad, Iraq:
As a reporter who usually shares living quarters with U.S. soldiers across Iraq, I hear my fair share of peculiar stories, some true and others exaggerated. I've heard few stories comparable to Cpl. Phillip Heyde's recent ordeal.
Heyde told his story as I was sitting on the hood of a Humvee, watching Iraqi soldiers inspect cars at a checkpoint down the road of a farming area in west Baghdad. These days the U.S. military is trying to shift security responsibilities to Iraqi troops - which makes for lots of conversation with idle Americans.
In late February, Heyde recounted, his unit found a roadside bomb while he was patrolling near the Baghdad airport to deter Iraqis from greeting incoming planes with gunfire. Heyde scanned the distance from the turret atop his Humvee and noticed a thunderstorm in the distance. Things seemed calm enough - until a blast struck his Humvee, sending him crumpling down.
Fellow soldiers said he was mumbling and flopping around on the road. Heyde thought he had been hit by a roadside bomb.
Instead, on the edge of the vast Mesopotamian desert, Cpl. Heyde had been struck down by a bolt of lightning.
"I woke up and all I heard was my heart freaking out," said Heyde, 23, imitating the thumping sound that he heard from his chest.
Frantic soldiers rushed to help him. At some point someone informed their command that a soldier had been hit by lightning.
On the way back to base, Heyde's soldiers took special precautions to help their friend.
"No one would let me out of the truck because there was still lightning outside," said Heyde, a soldier known for his broad grin and freckles. "I just wanted to go home. I was soaking wet."
When he told his wife back home about the patrol, she didn't believe him until a commander back in the U.S. informed her.
"She looked up the long-term effects on the Internet and that's when she started to freak out," said Heyde, a native of South Bend, Indiana.
Though some body parts acted abnormally for the first few days, Heyde says he's mostly recovered now. The novelty of being a soldier struck by lightning quickly wore off - only two days off duty were granted, he said.
"I asked for a two day extension in my leave, but they didn't give it," said Heyde. "They don't even talk about it anymore."
A few days after I first met Cpl. Heyde, I ran into him again, this time eating a slice of pizza at a Pizza Hut on base. He initially mistook me for someone else.
"It's the lightning, man," he explained with a smile, before inviting me to sit down and eat with him.
_Antonio Castaneda
Mercury News
This AP Blog thing is becoming more popular, I see it carried by more papers now.
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