The doors have been taken off our Blackhawk helicopter to accommodate heavy machine guns, so there's a blast of 100-degree heat blowing in everyone's face at 100 miles an hour. The view below is not inspiring: dreary streets, concrete buildings, uncollected trash everywhere. Block after block of Baghdad slips by, rooftop laundry flapping wildly in the backwash of the chopper's rotor blades. Only a fool wouldn't consider the possibility of an Iraqi insurgent down there, armed with a surface-to-air missile or a rocket-propelled grenade.
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