The conditions were ripe for a long drive — a slight breeze at our backs, 100-plus degrees, low humidity.

But as golfers took turns teeing it up, it was obvious this wasn't your typical driving range. The grass off the fairway was rough, real rough. Knee deep, in fact. Instead of crummy mats, tees were stuck into sandbags. The tee box was on top of a five-story building in central Baghdad.

This wasn't a genteel game in a country-club setting. This was golf in a war zone. No spikes here, only desert-style combat boots. Typical golf attire came in shades of brown and green.

During my unit's year in Iraq, golf was just one of many sports that helped pass time for soldiers, sailors, Marines and airmen alike. We played football, soccer, basketball and even dodgeball and horseshoes. Though the opportunities to play organized sports didn't come often in a war zone, we made the most of our limited time. The chance to stretch your legs and blow off a little steam was too good to pass up. The benefits seemed well worth the risks.

A unique quality of service members is their ability to adapt and overcome less-than-perfect situations. And that's exactly what we were doing as we climbed some stairs and a rickety ladder to the roof.

We inserted the tee into the sandbag and started to swing away.

We had read in a local Stars and Stripes edition that a unit had set up a driving range on its compound. If those guys could do it, so can we, we decided. A few of us put our heads together, and as good soldiers do, we came up with an idea and adapted it to our situation.

One building inside our compound in Baghdad was adjacent to an overgrown park that looked like a great place to hit a few balls. We could even use our rangefinders to see just how far the balls were hit. Some clubs were sent to us from home, along with a large bag of balls.

One soldier claimed he could drive a ball 400 yards, a distance even Tiger Woods would have trouble reaching. We decided to call his bluff.

His first ball went about 150 yards. The second was a bit farther, but nowhere close to 400. After a few more futile attempts, he sliced one and nearly hit one of the U.S. soldiers working at a gate.

Soon, the golf range was closed for the afternoon. Our makeshift course only had enough balls to reopen one more time. Rumor has it that 300 yards was attained, though not by Mr. 400.

Golf was a hit, but soccer and football were even more popular among the troops.

Touch football on Thanksgiving is a great American tradition, even in Iraq. A group of men, most of them in their late teens or early 20s, a few in their 30s, passed, punted, huffed and puffed.

The Turkey Bowl football field we used was littered with numerous sprinkler heads protruding from the ground, a few exposed manhole covers, and many potholes waiting to twist an ankle or tweak a knee.

Americans were not the only ones in Iraq who enjoyed a friendly game of football. The local Iraqis who worked next to U.S. personnel on a daily basis also enjoyed a good game, though their version of football is what we call soccer.

The challenge was on.

At first, the Iraqis did not think the Americans could play their beautiful game. Trash-talking — which knows no borders — erupted from both sides.

All we needed was a suitable pitch, and we found one in the back of an old, Saddam-era, four-star hotel within our compound. The field was grass (most fields in Iraq are dirt). It was only about 60 meters by 40 meters and ringed by bushes with nasty thorns.

Still, the game was on, even as we saw smoke rise in the distance. Word came that a rocket struck a nearby tent that housed foreign contractors. We found out later that a few were killed and several suffered serious burns.

But life in a war zone is like that. It surrounds you.

As we began our soccer game, the Iraqis did not take a bunch of Americans in jogging shoes seriously. But we jumped to a quick lead, and the Iraqis realized they had bitten off more than they could chew. The game ended with the Americans winning, 3-2.

That was the first of what became regular games that grew more physical and intense each week. The Iraqis won a few games, too. It was a way to blow off some steam and build some camaraderie and teamwork. It also showed how sports could be a bridge between two very different and incredibly unique cultures.

Football, soccer and golf weren't the only sports outlets. Several makeshift basketball courts beckoned. We lifted weights and had a heavy punching bag to work out with. Soldiers even had a dodgeball tournament that attracted those from several units.

All told, the organized sports resulted in a sprained knee, a few sprained ankles and some minor nicks and bruises. But the activities helped break up the day-to-day rigors and boredom of living in a combat zone.

Just as important were the memories made and friendships forged that will last a lifetime for most of us.

Dan Dofelmier: ddofelmier@seattletimes.com