Motorists in beat-up Mercedes Benzes honk their horns and speed by the green machines, sometimes dipping into the middle of the convoy before losing them in their dust. Women in scarves till the brown fields with hand-held hoes. The convoy turns onto a smaller gravel road. Swerving to avoid deep ruts, it hits one anyway. A jarring bump sends a box of 50-caliber machine gun rounds spilling out at the feet of Pvt.
Children wave and whistle at the soldiers.
Many run alongside the Humvees, begging for food. While Rush takes note of the Cold War-era artillery pieces and bunkers bored into the side of a hill, Bramblett gets out of the Humvee. The two men approach a tall iron gate that appears to be locked. Ne jemi Amerikane. We are Americans.