Seraphim
10-30-2003, 03:08 PM
http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&u=/afp/iraq_us_army_women
http://us.news2.yimg.com/us.yimg.com/p/afp/20031030/capt.sge.uqt48.301003193531.photo00.default-269x389.jpg
BAGHDAD (AFP) - Kitted-out out in aviator-suits, Charlene, Stephanie and Sarah stand beside their Blackhawk helicopters in war-torn Iraq (news - web sites).
They are flying valkyries, Charlie's Angels of the sky.
"It's hot and more dusty than we are used to," says smiling Captain Sarah Stitt, like some vision of Drew Barrymore.
Sarah, 25, drives a Humvee all-terrain vehicle around the Baghdad airport, tossing her hair.
"It's easier to drive a Blackhawk because they are less crazy up there," she giggles.
Despite their dull brown uniforms and their long hair wrapped tightly in buns, the femininity of Sarah and Charlene leaps out in this spartan and masculine environment.
"I spend a lot of time trying to be one of the boys. Most of the time, I am one of the boys. But sometimes, they realize I am a woman," says Chief Warrant Officer Charlene Frei, 32, toting a fully-loaded nine millimeter Beretta.
There are only five women in the 125-member 2nd Battalion of the 501st Aviation Regiment, based at Baghdad airport.
They ferry troops and supplies and swagger as much as any ace war pilot, but they still feel a need to prove themselves due to their gender.
"You are expected to know more, be more technically proficient, and an expert in your field," Charlene says.
But these women lack nothing when it comes to background. Sarah and Captain Stephanie Savell went to West Point military academy while Charlene pilots the chopper for the regiment's top brass.
Even if they are on equal footing with their male colleagues, they live by special guidelines in Iraq, a country with a conservative Muslim culture.
"They don't want us to run by ourselves. We can't wear shorts or short sleeves," says Sarah.
But the girls still get hooted and hollered at by Iraqis in the fine tradition of whistling American construction workers.
"They whistle and comment when I pass by the contractors," Sarah says.
Sarah and Stephanie, even though they have the fortune of being posted with their husbands, must make sure they don't get pregnant.
"If you get pregnant, they ship you home," says Stephanie, 26.
In the meantime, they substitute cats and dogs for children. And dream of the day when they can go home and are free of war's daily grind.
But the time in Iraq stands in sharp contrast to stints in Kosovo where they were welcomed by the population.
"I don't feel that we are an occupation force, but the Iraqis feel that we are," says Sarah.
"I feel a need to finish this and go, and let them go on with their society and culture because we are in the middle of it."
http://us.news2.yimg.com/us.yimg.com/p/afp/20031030/capt.sge.uqt48.301003193531.photo00.default-269x389.jpg
BAGHDAD (AFP) - Kitted-out out in aviator-suits, Charlene, Stephanie and Sarah stand beside their Blackhawk helicopters in war-torn Iraq (news - web sites).
They are flying valkyries, Charlie's Angels of the sky.
"It's hot and more dusty than we are used to," says smiling Captain Sarah Stitt, like some vision of Drew Barrymore.
Sarah, 25, drives a Humvee all-terrain vehicle around the Baghdad airport, tossing her hair.
"It's easier to drive a Blackhawk because they are less crazy up there," she giggles.
Despite their dull brown uniforms and their long hair wrapped tightly in buns, the femininity of Sarah and Charlene leaps out in this spartan and masculine environment.
"I spend a lot of time trying to be one of the boys. Most of the time, I am one of the boys. But sometimes, they realize I am a woman," says Chief Warrant Officer Charlene Frei, 32, toting a fully-loaded nine millimeter Beretta.
There are only five women in the 125-member 2nd Battalion of the 501st Aviation Regiment, based at Baghdad airport.
They ferry troops and supplies and swagger as much as any ace war pilot, but they still feel a need to prove themselves due to their gender.
"You are expected to know more, be more technically proficient, and an expert in your field," Charlene says.
But these women lack nothing when it comes to background. Sarah and Captain Stephanie Savell went to West Point military academy while Charlene pilots the chopper for the regiment's top brass.
Even if they are on equal footing with their male colleagues, they live by special guidelines in Iraq, a country with a conservative Muslim culture.
"They don't want us to run by ourselves. We can't wear shorts or short sleeves," says Sarah.
But the girls still get hooted and hollered at by Iraqis in the fine tradition of whistling American construction workers.
"They whistle and comment when I pass by the contractors," Sarah says.
Sarah and Stephanie, even though they have the fortune of being posted with their husbands, must make sure they don't get pregnant.
"If you get pregnant, they ship you home," says Stephanie, 26.
In the meantime, they substitute cats and dogs for children. And dream of the day when they can go home and are free of war's daily grind.
But the time in Iraq stands in sharp contrast to stints in Kosovo where they were welcomed by the population.
"I don't feel that we are an occupation force, but the Iraqis feel that we are," says Sarah.
"I feel a need to finish this and go, and let them go on with their society and culture because we are in the middle of it."