e-mail from the front
1 JUN 03
2320 local
Well, I’m in Baghdad. In the last 96 hours I have had more than a few adventures. I have driven 300+ miles through rough terrain, my battalion has been shot at twice, and I have part
They say getting there is half the fun. In that case, I was robbed of fun. I was designated as a march unit commander of about 45 vehicles. We had a mixture of HMMWV’s (Hummers), five ton and two and a half ton trucks, big HEMMT fuelers and cargos, and lots of trailers. It is approximately 560 kilometers (300+ miles) from Kuwait to Baghdad. As one of four march unit commanders in our battalion I was responsible to shepard all of those vehicles to Baghdad. If they had all been vehicles from our battalion it would have been easy. Our higher authorities assigned the Personnel Support Battalion to travel with us for organization and security. The PSB’s are not the most field-experienced organizations we have. To make matters even better, only one of their fifty vehicles had a radio and they had no tow or recovery assets in case they broke down. And of course they had no heavy weapons The dukes were expected to get them up there. Don’t get me wrong, they are great people, but not the sort you want in your convoy in the last minute!
We took a lot of steps in the planning to resource recovery assets, and to space our radio vehicles to report problems as we moved north. We were less concerned about enemy than the terrain; the desert is hot and unforgiving. We also had to prepare for locals attempting to rush our vehicles and attempt to tear/steal items away. The solution (since lethal force is authorized in only a few circumstances) was for everyone to procure a stick or bat type object in case we had to “repel boarders” so to speak. This excited many of our soldiers and I think no small amount hoped to get accosted. I guess it was funnier at the time than writing it now. Anyway, with planning complete and everything as good as it could get we set off for Baghdad.
What followed was the worst road trip of my life! We called the operation “Duke Baja” for a good reason. It resembled the movie “Cannonball Run”. We began our road march with over 170-wheeled vehicles to Baghdad last week at about 1900 hours as the sun was setting. Everything went okay as we drove through the night along mostly improved highways leading to Baghdad. We had no problem with thieves, much to the disappointment of some. Our scout escorts kept us together and we were able to make good time to the first rest stop 1/3rd of the way to Baghdad.
There the problems began. The rest stop was over 10 miles from where it was supposed to be and it did not possess all the support we had hoped. We got fuel however, fixed a few problems, and marched out about two hours after arrival (it takes awhile to fuel 45 vehicles). This was about 0400 in the morning.
We set off again and just as dawn broke we reached a stretch of road where we were briefed the previous “interstate” style highway would turn into gravel road. It turned into a road hell. It was a bumpy, potholed, dusty, barely improved trail that we had to follow for about 75 miles. The vehicles were only able to maintain about 10-20 miles per hour. The sun rose and beat the desert landscape and made it all the more fun. This road had lots of debris around so we had numerous flat tires which we had to repair. It took about 8 hours to make it through that stretch of road with all the problems. However, we made it through and to the next rest stop. We took an hour’s nap before proceeding to Baghdad.
Tired, dusty, and with sore backsides we pulled into the last rest stop and awaited our escorts into Baghdad. Scouts from 3rd ID were to guide us to our staging point where we would move to our assigned location. While waiting for them we were approached by locals trying to sell us everything! Pepsi, Saddam money, arab headdress, knives, and a host of other small items. Small kids would approach you and heckle you to death. We had to keep a close watch on our vehicles as they were very interested in taking anything that wasn’t tied down.
After about two hours of this we were met and began the final leg of our trip. We had been traveling for over 24 hours at this point and entered Baghdad through a large freeway. One vehicle had problems and had to stop. While the rest of the convoy waited for the fix we were approached at a high speed by an Iraqi truck. The 3ID scouts (who fought their way north) immediately broke out a shotgun and other weapons and threatened the vehicle to stop or else. Seeing these veterans snap into action I drew my pistol, chambered a round, and prepared to help. Fortunately, the guy got the message and backed away promptly. This same scout section had just lost a vehicle to a mine thrown from another vehicle the other day, and the memory of the car bombers loomed large.
We resumed movement and were led to the staging area. Surprisingly, this was the “crossed sabers” monument (unknown soldier) that you may have seen on the news during the war. I took a good picture as we pulled in at dusk. We were directed to stay the night there and our sponsor unit would relieve us in the morning.
In the morning we moved and occupied space on a former Iraqi military compound. It was the location of their officer training schools, similar to our OCS and Command and General Staff College. The place was ransacked completely, all the windows are out, all light fixtures (and wiring) stripped, ceiling tiles broken, debris everywhere. We began cleaning up. We hired some local laborers for $2/day and once we swept and cleaned everything began setting up a new headquarters. It’s a work in progress but is much better than when we found it. <break>
4 June 2003
2230 hours
Well, it has been even more interesting. Baghdad is a madhouse, a wild west of dangerous and exciting experiences. I was shot at (or near) for the first time several days ago. We were driving on a supply run to the airport when “POW! POW! POW! POW!” was heard to our right as we were traveling past a residential area on a highway. No one was hit or hurt and it is unclear whether it was even aimed at us. My reaction to being shot at surprised me. My first thought was “What the heck was that?” followed by the realization, “I’m in Baghdad, that’s gunfire”, and then I drew my pistol and prepared to return fire. I wasn’t able to see the source and my driver got us and the rest of the convoy quickly out of the area. For some reason a movie quote kept flashing through my head – Clint Eastwood in Heartbreak Ridge – “That’s the sound of an AK-47. It makes a distinctive sound when it is shot at you”. It’s amazing what you think sometimes.
We had a drunk Iraqi unload a clip of a machine gun at our armored convoy as it moved to the new base. The convoy was full of manned tanks and APC’s that had just arrived to Baghdad. Someone shot about 30 rounds at them from a field. Our drivers and gunners all saw it, and in a bout of overenthusiasm, threw about 1500 rounds of .50 cal, 7.62mm, and 5.56 back in the area the fire originated. No BDA was found, but whoever it was hasn’t troubled us since. What kind of idiot takes on an armored column with an AK-47? A drunk or on drugs kind.
This place is a miserable, sad city. The poverty is immense. There is trash and filth strewn all over the place. Reminds me of a dusty, sandy Kosovo. However, the smog and pollution from hundreds of obsolete cars and years of neglect is much worse. The Air Force was right, the bombing was incredibly precise. Government buildings hit by JDAMs are hulks while others a few meters away only have the glass windows blown out. I haven’t seen a bombed residential building yet. A few industrial sites were bombed, but they mostly seem connected with WMD production.
The city reflects the chaos of any third world type city. Besides the smell of refuse, trash, and pollution, there is a host of people trying to make a buck. Every 100 feet or so on the highway is a man or boy selling gas, coke, watermelons, cigarettes, or other items to passers by. In more prosperous days, Saddam built a pretty robust highway/interstate/autobahn system that rings the city fairly efficiently. However, none of the stoplights work and driving is an experience! People basically push, pull or ram their way through traffic. Intersections are a measure of controlled chaos. The really fun part is that our HMMWV’s are THE kings of the road. When you pack machine guns everyone gets out of your way. Because we are the boss around here, we get to act like LAPD on a high speed chase. You want to turn out? Just do it, they’ll stop. Need to merge? Just do it and they will get out of your way. We try not to stop for protection reasons, in a crowded city you are vulnerable while sitting still in a vehicle, your situational awareness is poor. They mostly drive 1970’s Datsuns and Nissans around, a HMMWV is about twice the size. And if the HMMWV gets a paint scrape, no big deal. The population knows that we are the cops, judge, and jury all rolled into one, and give us leeway.
Soldiers have been getting killed or wounded every day recently, mostly from accidents but also from some hostile thugs. That said, this place is not as dangerous as the media would have you believe. In reality, the city now has no more crime/murder than any other city of 5 million. 99.5% of the population is happy we are here. While driving, everyone honks and waves at you as you pass by, sometimes giving you a “thumbs up”. Kids, as always, love US soldiers and run to smile and wave at us. They always shout “Hey Meester” and wave. We aren’t allowed to give them food or candy because it creates a mob and sometimes dangerous situations for our soldiers. I wish we could many times. The adults are generally friendly and receptive. They want what most US adults want – a job, safe neighborhood, opportunity, and a future for their kids. We are here to help give it to them.
The poverty breaks your heart. Most kids don’t go to school, live in filth, and don’t have good clothes, food, or water. Most of these kids don’t have shoes. Literacy is around 50% and dropping. They have a highly educated older/middle aged population of engineers, doctors, etc. However the children (50% of the country) have not had much quality care or education since the First Gulf War.
We are approaching this mission trying not to repeat some of the mistakes we made in Bosnia and Kosovo. There, we became the provider of solutions to all their problems. Need power? Call the army and their engineers will fix it. Crime problem? Call the army. Instead, we are trying to make them fix their own problems, and assisting them in doing it. If they are forced to take responsibility and ownership of their neighborhoods, then they will be able to run without us. The opposite created an international welfare state in Kosovo and Bosnia.
A prime example was the other day while traveling to Baghdad Airport, where the main logistics node is. We were stuck at one of those congested intersections where a major jam had occurred. Cars had blocked each other from turning in each direction, so traffic was moving nowhere. The scene was kind of a civilian version of the “military traffic jam” incident in the movie Patton. The other vehicle commander and I, after watching for a few minutes (and stuck in the jam) were about to walk out and take charge and get the traffic jam resolved (“You – move back, You, turn!” etc. and if they don’t cooperate a pistol or M16 is very convincing) but just before an Iraqi man got out and got traffic moving again. As I think on it later I think it was good we didn’t take charge, we needed to let the Iraqis solve their own problems. Coming from a government where initiative was crushed and people were told what to do, this is hard to develop. But it is working. Americans assist in getting the infrastructure running, but the Iraqis do it. I think it is a much better method than the one we used in the Balkans.
Another short example is neighborhood watch. We have been convincing the population to start these kind of programs to enable us to help them by arresting Baath party thugs, criminals, and thieves. When we introduced it, it was foreign for them to actually take responsibility. Someone else had always taken care of that. But once running, they saw the decrease in crime and increase in safety.
I am running around in this madhouse most days trying to outfit our battalion for the mission at hand. I generally get to bed after midnight and rise about 5-6 AM. This is only the second time in two weeks I have had the time or energy to write.
Life is Spartan for us here. I eat MRE’s only most days, but recently we have been getting one hot “canned” meal (T-ration) daily. The funny thing is a “hot” dinner will arrive, but it will be a breakfast menu. Love the army. We drink purified water that tastes like it is from a swimming pool because of the pollution here. This certainly isn’t the feasts we had in Kosovo through Brown and Root!
I acquired a small room right down from the command post where I sleep. I am hardly there though. We use “burn bucket” latrines and piss in tubes in the ground. There are no fixed showers or grid electricity where I am at. My camping “solar shower” I had the foresight to buy works nice though. Our military generators are enough to power the command post but not much else. The main problem is theater logistics, there simply aren’t enough trucks rolling north to supply us better and most contractors see the situation as too dangerous to drive into. Until the perception of security is better, I don’t think we’ll see a logistical improvement. I am still amazed that with ten years to wargame and a year to prepare that military logistics is this broken at the theater level. Then again, supporting 200,000 soldiers isn’t easy. But for $384 billion a year plus $100 billion for this op, you would at least expect to get repair parts for your vehicles!
I’ll end this and get to bed. I have some jaunts in the morning to persue. Hope everyone is well there.
8 Jun 2003
Still haven’t been able to get this out. Internet is slow or non-existent around here. If it isn’t up by Wednesday I am going to print all this and send it as a letter.
The last few days have been so busy it feels like I have been here a month even though it has only been a week. I miss you terribly. We are working hard. This place is hot and dirty. These people are very difficult to deal with and act like small children at times. There is little sense of personal responsibility. I guess it comes from years under a totalitarian regime but it is still frustrating.
We are concentrating on getting the basic services such as power and sanitation restored. We are also trying to get local leaders elected in order to begin forming a new government but it is hard.
We are trying to get our gutted out building fixed so it is livable. The bureaucracy for everything is thick. If only I could send pictures of this place. I am taking a proposal for $220k tomorrow to fix three buildings at this compound. I hope I can get it approved but I am hearing that things are not too favorable for contracts. It is easy for the contracting REMFs in their powered, air conditioned offices in the palaces and Baghdad Airport to say that while the soldiers live like crap and pull the hard missions in sector.
That said, we are making some improvements and are doing a little better. The army is really bending over the 3ID folks. They fought the war and should go home. They are tired, their equipment is broke, and have suffered enough in this hellhole. 1AD, 4ID, 3ACR, and 2 ACR can do the job. The bigwigs are concerned so they decided to keep 3ID here longer. Some of the soldiers have been gone almost a year. They are soldiers and do their duty, but it is hard. They’ve earned their ticket home.
I now have a local translator, a 24-year-old named Bashar. He is very smart and finishing his master’s degree in computers. His English is excellent, and he picked it up from watching movies! He is very conscientious and will do a good job assisting me in purchasing things from the local economy. My soldiers have had many conversations with him.
He is fascinated by our conduct. The first day when I interviewed him he said after about an hour “You talk to me like a normal person, I feel as if you are my friend”. He expected me to be more like Iraqi officers I suppose, some monster that could crush lives in a whim. You would not believe some of the stories he tells about Saddam, persecution, propaganda, and the secret police. People would just “disappear” for a year. If someone in a family were accused of disloyalty sometimes everyone would be killed or taken to prison. This place was Nazi-like in its brutality and inhumanity. He explained to me that when you were a “boss” you had absolute power. He is very thankful we came and removed Saddam. I found it funny because I could not imagine wishing for an outside country to invade and change my government and way of life. When one of my soldiers began telling him about our Bill of Rights he was fascinated. The fact that everyone has rights to speech, religion, fair trials, etc. was new to him. I hope to learn more from him and we will spend a lot of time together in the future I am sure.
This place is still dangerous and soldiers are getting hurt. It is a paradox because it is 99.5% safe except for those 2-3 dudes that will pop out of a crowd and attack us. Keeps everyone on their toes.
Don’t believe the media, though. Success stories don’t sell papers. This place is doing okay and the city is bouncing back. Hopefully the forces of sectionalism, religious intolerance, and violence can be put down and a constructive society built.
We are short on comfort items If anyone wants to send something down here to the soldiers, I recommend the following:
Board Games (checkers, chess, Risk, monopoly, Axis&Allies, etc)
Gatorade Powder (this is like gold)/Kool-Aid
Bug Repellant
Gold Bond’s foot powder
Novels and Books
DVD movies
AA Batteries
Magazines
Sports Equipment (volleyball net, footballs, basketballs, weights, frisbee’s, we take it all) |
