Tour of Duty

Full Circle - Forward

2005-08-08T13:00:00.000-04:00

This will be my last post.

I am back at my desk in my office at Cornell. After returning to New York a month of travel, work on the house, XboX, and general malaise when there was nothing else to do passed by rather quickly. I am glad to be back to work.

Over the last month everyone I meet asks the same two questions in one form or another, "how was it" and "how are we doing over there?"

The answer to the first part always goes like this, "it sucked." I think to say anything else would be lying. To say it was the most rewarding, or scariest, loneliest, boring experience of my life, or any other adjective, doesn't quite hit the right chord and isn't necessarily true. Describing nine months away from family and friends plus having to deal with the challenges of day to day life and death over there the word suck floats right to the top.

The second answer surprises most people I speak to. Yes, we are making a difference. However, I tell them, the Iraqi people are meeting more and more of the challenges before them. Mover over, the Iraqi Army and Iraqi Police are gradually gaining the confidence to become effective. I remind people that the IA and IP use methods that we would never dare to. All of the populace may not like it, but they understand it and comply.

I also tell people that had it not been for the genuine act of bravery of the people in January as they went out and voted, I would think that Iraq is a lost cause. But...The people did vote and their voice was heard. They shocked the world who doubted so much. That spirit; wherever it came from, however it rose to the surface, is still there in the people and they are waiting to show the world again that they will rise to the occasion.

I throw in a couple of good will stories about the schools we have fixed, the water towers we built and finish with the standard line that it will take a long while for true results to be seen and felt locally and globally. As it did in Germany. As it did in Japan. As it did in America when we won our freedom.

People thank me and welcome me home and I continue on my way. Those exchanges are happening every day and probably will for a while to come. I don't mind. I think that one responsibility Soldiers have is to recount the positive things they are doing in Iraq and Afghanistan in order to remind the public that the cause is still worthy.

Do I miss being over there? Not at all. I try to keep up with the news from the FOB just to know how people are doing over there. Other than that I do not follow the news from Iraq that much. I guess I just don't want to see it right now.

I am so glad to be home.

Getting life in order and getting into a routine is the next big task for me. That will be hard with my wedding coming up in two months; a joyous occasion that I am gleefully looking forward to. Once that event is over with, then, maybe, things will settle down.

The first step in getting going occurred today by coming back to Cornell and sitting down to my desk and reclaiming it for myself. I started my blog from this desk. It seems only fitting that I end it here.

I have reconnected with my daughter, who just turned eight years old. She is wiser and more mature than other kids her age. This in part because of the way her mother and I raised her. Another part is because of the 9 months I was away from her. Every once in a while a question will come out of the blue, "were you scared?", or, "do you have to go back?", or, "why can't you just quit?" Sam missed me and she lets me know it. She is pretty free with her affection for her father, and I in turn show her the same amount of love and devotion. I hope for her sake that I do not have to ever go again. In the event that I do I know that she has the strength to meet the challenge.

I am off to go get Lisa from the airport. She has been on a sailing trip in the British Virgin Islands as a camp counselor. Although we reconnected before she left we now have nothing to pull us apart from one another.

Another chapter in my life is unfolding with her. As Iraq becomes more of a memory and my marriage to her gets closer I look forward to writing the rest of the story with her.

Home!

2005-07-20T10:16:00.000-04:00

I am in NY! Wow! The last week and a half has been crazy, wonderfully crazy. Here is a short synopsis:

Sam rushed into my arms at the Syracuse Airport. We had a long moment where we wouldn't let go of each other. The news was there to capture it - Sam in mid-air, flying into my arms, me with a big smile.

Mom and Lisa were there to make the homecoming complete. Mom was decked out in red, white, and blue and Lisa just looked great.

We all went to the Dinosaur BBQ where I received a round of applause and a cold Sam Adams beer on the house. The ride to Cortland was refreshing to have lush green rolling hills go by the windows. It was good to be home...

I unpacked and repacked for a trip to Orange County, NY for my twenty year high school reunion. What a trip into the past that was! Not only did I reconnect with life in the United States but I also saw so many faces from so long ago. It was very cool and I had a lot more fun than I expected.

I am leaving for vacation with Sam - dad and daughter time to reconnect. We are heading to Myrtle Beach to play in the surf, ride the water slides, and get crazy for a few days.

I am glad to be home and facing all new kinds of stress - good stress; wedding plans, vacation, going back to work, arranging meeting times to pick up my daughter. Stress I can handle.

I will write again!

Fourth Of July

2005-07-03T07:35:00.000-04:00

I am back in the United States - wow, thank God, happy Fourth of July. I have been home for five days. Five wonderful days.

The task force flew out in two commercial planes from Kuwait early in the morning of June 29th. Because of the customs process we had been awake all night long and we were already exhausted and ready to sleep as the plane lifted off into the dawn.

The planes departed over an hour apart and met up in Shannon, Ireland during the lay over. Shannon airport has a pub in it. This is information we had before hand. We had the General on our flight so access to the pub was in question. We exited the jetway, walked down the hall, and entered the terminal to find 200 Soldiers already bellied up to the bar with pints of Guinness in hand. A communal cheer went up throughout the building - and with that the party was on.

An hour and a half and two pints later I was back on the plane. I was sound asleep before the plane ever took off. Eight hours later we were on approach to Pope AFB, right next to Ft. Bragg. Looking out the window the ground was green and lush. When I left nine months ago the scenery had been the same and I made the mental note to remember this sight. It was remarkable to see it again in stark contrast to Iraq. The wheels touched down around 1530 hours and another cheer went up. Before the plane stopped I had called home.

Exiting the aircraft I was overwhelmed with the humidity - it was choking and oppressive. There were Generals at the bottom of the steps shaking our hands and welcoming us home. The entire group marched off to a large hangar where we were met by a band, speeches, and family. The band played the National Anthem - the first time I had heard it in nine months. Hearing it gave me a warm, tingly feeling.

By 1900 we had all of our baggage unloaded, we were in barracks, changed into civilian clothes, and dismissed for the night. Beer magically appeared and the process to convert from a combat theater to "home" began in earnest.

On Thursday and Friday we attended briefings and medical outprocessing. Friday night we were released for the holiday weekend. Friday night I saw Lisa again. Friday night one facet of my life was made whole.

Friday night I held Lisa again in a long embrace. It had been over six months since we last held one another and it was wonderful beyond words. Over the last few days we have been in each others company, reconnecting, readjusting. We have had no plan or agenda and have flowed through the days without rushing. Tonight we will get together with several of my former students and celebrate with dinner and fireworks.

It is great to be home. What a stark difference. I always appreciated our way of life and how we, as Americans, generally conducted ourselves with good manners and civility. However, it is experiencing that stark difference between here and there in such a dramatic manner that makes me realize how special this country is.

God bless America.

Lay Over

2005-06-30T10:16:00.000-04:00

Layover In Shannon, Irleand

A brief stop in Shannon, Ireland produced beer and smiles - we were eight hours from home.

Leaving, On A Jet Plane

2005-06-27T13:12:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I left Baghdad, Iraq for Kuwait. It was a very anti-climatic event.

Naturally, the trip was frought with delays, cancellations, aggravation, cursing, and an endless night that ended at 0830 this morning at a re-deployment camp in Kuwait.

By 0330 we were silently walking across the tarmac, our shadows following us into the belly of the plane.

Because of the aforementioned delays, cancellations, aggravation, cursing, and endless night when the C-130 powered up and took off most of us were asleep or too tired to care that we had just left Iraq after 270 days. There were no cheers, no hurrahs; just the silence of each persons own reflections or quiet dozzing.

I slept until noon and got some chow. Shortly after that I ran into one of my former students. When I first met her she was a senior in Cornell and a darn good cadet. Laura is now a Captain and a Company Commander of an ambulance company in Kuwait. This is her second tour. We detoured to Starbucks near the PX (oh, to be near civilization again!) and caught up on the last few years. Two hours and a couple of photos later my day was made.

Tomorrow we start the process to clear customs and bus out to the airport for a chartered commercial flight to North Carolina.

Entitlements

2005-06-25T03:14:00.000-04:00

I am now a veteran. No longer do I merely have the label of "Soldier", or "officer", but I have the added distinction of having been in a combat theater. With that comes certain entitlements.

I know there are certain military benefits I will receive now and in the future. I know there is a big parade in November, certain brand name businesses give discounts, and I get to hang out at the VFW and swill watered down beer and begin each story with, "there I was...". However there are other entitlements I am looking forward to as soon as possible upon returning home.

Here is a short list:

My daughter's arms around me in a great big hug that steals my breath and lasts as long as she can hold on.

A good steak dinner with my father in North Carolina.

The beers promised to me by Pat, Gregg, and the gang at work.

Lisa's smile and twinkling eyes...in person.

The smell of my lawn as I cut the grass.

BBQing in my backyard.

Sleeping a bed longer than I am.

Talking to mom without getting cut off by the satellite phone's poor reception.

Getting let off for at least one ticket for driving too fast.

A nice bottle of wine to share with Lisa.

The feel of jeans and a T-shirt.

Not carrying a weapon everywhere I go.

Laughter; good, hearty laughter.

Swimming in the ocean.

Finding a place of peace and quiet without the sound of generators, explosions, helicopters, tanks, and every other thing that pollutes the air with noise over here.

The days in Iraq are coming to an end. This camp is a step in the right direction. This place is all military. There is no sign of "Iraq" in any direction for miles; no traffic, no buildings, no locals, no sheiks, no imams. We are mentally unwinding. The next step is to get to Kuwait and then quickly move on to North Carolina.

I will keep you posted.

More Than I Deserve

2005-06-23T00:17:00.000-04:00

I have had some time to reflect some more on my tour. I have been thinking about the "Support Our Troops" stickers and magnets you see all over. Even though they are going the way of the "Baby On Board" signs, the support I have received these last nine months needs some re-addressing.

None of you would be reading this blog had it not been for Gregg from Texas. One of my best friends, married to one of my other best friends, he urged me to write about the tour. Gregg, although against the war and the current administration, has been a tremendous help, even though he thinks cookies, CDs, and comics are small things. I look forward to seeing Christine and Gregg and holding them once again.

The support from work has been outstanding. Packages, emails, and being kept "in the loop" reminded me that I was missed and expected back in the office to continue to do that job I love so much. It helps, I suppose, that the job is an Army ROTC program and that most of my co-workers are all in the military. However, the office went two officers short last year because of deployments and had to cover the same material with less personnel. Thank you, Sir.

I need to thank Stacey, Sam's mom, and her family who did a great job keeping me informed of Sam's ups and downs over the school year. Stacey allowed Lisa to spend time with Sam so that the two of them could develop their own special relationship. Stacey made sure Sam sent me letters, cards, and artwork to cover my walls in my room. The deployment was easier knowing that Sam was okay.

My family did a great job keeping in touch. Mom did her best to hide her fear and worry from me and dad actually used a computer! Andy, Mare, Lucas, and Alyssa entertained Sam on several occasions to keep her connected to the family.

Over the last nine months I have been able to get to know Lisa's family. Betty sent me wonderful cards and letters with pictures attached. She is a lively spirit who still enjoys being involved in life. Linda, Mark, Kira, and Grace have taken the time to make me feel like part of the family and I am deeply appreciative.

For everything everyone has written, sent, or done in some way to support me, thank you.

However, I could not gotten through this deployment without Lisa. Lisa has been my refuge, my rock, and my link to the life I long to return to. Thanks to Instant Messaging, I have been able to "come home" to her at the end of my day and share in the frustration, anguish, and success that I had that day. I have found myself laughing and smiling at the computer screen on more than one occasion - sometimes with her, sometimes at her, sometimes at me.

Lisa and I continued to grow and build on a relationship that started on a solid foundation. We avoided the longing, sorrowful messages of missing one another during the long mid-tour months. Instead we shared and answered questions on what our relationship would be like in the near and far future. We wrote of ideas, and desires, and dreams that we could achieve together. We wrote of children, work, money, vacations, and all of the good things that come when two lives are shared. We wrote of handling the hard times and how we would find strength in one another and God.

In the end Lisa became the ideal of returning home. Being separated for more than six months she took on a mythical quality. She existed in a world that I wanted to be in. Her face graces my walls and my computer and looking into those eyes I can find refuge and solace. She provided me the comfort I needed after a long day from her life thousands of miles away. She reminded me that I was loved beyond words and that love would be even more real in person that over email, IM, or satellite phone.

She is more than I deserve and I know that every day. I cannot wait to be in her arms again. The anticipation gives me goosebumps.

Good-bye; The Long Road Home

2005-06-21T04:07:00.000-04:00

I am writing from relative safety of BIAP - everyone let out a collective sigh of relief.

Yesterday was my last day on the FOB. The day began early with several loud explosions; too early to be controlled dets (detonations of explosives by EOD personnel). The third one shook my room and got me out of bed. Outside the building there was a plume of smoke wafting on the breeze. One of the IP checkpoints was attacked with RPGs and a SVBIED. The suicide bomber's car bomb left a 15 foot hole in the ground. At least one IP died. What a way to start the last day.

At 0800 we started the move. The military Police came over to conduct our customs inspections. Everything was dumped onto the ground and poked through. They look for AK-47s, pistols, Cuban cigars, and other contraband items (and occasionally find them). Of course all that neat and orderly packing I did came undone in less than thirty seconds. Once cleared we packed our boxes and gear into cargo containers. The contaniers were sealed and they will be shipped out to the U.S. before we ever leave here.

A member of the Company who has been located on another FOB since October came to visit and pack his stuff. We went to lunch and shared the stories of our deployment. It turns out that many people went through the same personality conflicts as our Company did, furthering my belief in six month tours. Very few people are leaving Iraq "happy".

At 1500 was the highlight of the day - the awards ceremony. The awards process needs overhauling and everyone seems to know it. Some people did not get the awards they should have, some did not get the awards they think they shuold have, and others got more than they deserved. I knew the awards before hand and I knew that there would be several dissatisfied people. The tension was palpable before, during, and after the ceremony. The Brigade Commander came down and pinned on 22 medals. He spoke briefly about the fact that a deployment was not about what you wore on your chest, but the pride you wear inside from the job that was done. He went on to say that if you came for the award then you came for the wrong reason. Nonetheless, people's egos were bruised.

The awards done I worked with my replacement, Mike, to finish up any last issues he had to do his (my) job. The rest of the day was a blur. We went to dinner together and I headed back to my room to pack. I got on the computer and chatted with Lisa who had just returned from North Carolina. I drank a couple of near beers, and talked with Mike for awhile. At about 2105, another boom. This time it had to be a controlled det because it was so close to the top of the hour (when they try to do them). Mike and I continued out conversation until the Sergeants came over - we had been mortared. What a way to end my last day on the FOB.

I thought of the new unit, what must they think? Five days on the ground and already they are being faced with the harsh realities of what will be 12 months of duty for them.

My sleep was fitfull - as it always is before a big day.

My last convoy - my last mission, brought me to the airport where I will prepare for the rest of the unit to arrive over the next several days.

There is no more countdown counter. I left it for Mike.

End Of Tour Part III

2005-06-17T10:37:00.000-04:00

I cannot definitively say that a year in Iraq changed me. If it has I do not sense it. Maybe something has latently imprinted on me that others will sense once I get home and the change will be observed by them. I would like to think that I am the same person who left in September only with more experiences to reflect on.

I go home with many mixed emotions and see the duality of this experience just as I see a duality in the two halves of my tour.

I have checked a block in life. As a Soldier I have been to war. I did those things I swore to do when I raised my right hand. When tested, I passed. My brief exposure to combat was enough for a lifetime. I am proud of that service. I was a good Soldier among other good Soldiers in a troubled unit. I did what I could to make the best of the situation for myself and others but realize that I did not do enough. In the end I preserved my integrity and loyalty to my self, the unit, and the Army.

I did not come with false illusions of fixing this country in a short amount of time. History teaches us that it will be a generation before Iraq is fully viable and self sufficient. The question still remains if Iraq can become a paradigm democracy in the Middle East. I have met good people who want a future of freedom. They live among many others who have selfish gains to be made at the cost of progress. I remain skeptical yet hopeful – ever the wary optimist.

I maintain that the Soldiers here do a good job mostly in part because of the support they get from home. Americans and the rest of the world are watching our military forces. We do not want to let you down any more than you want to waive in your support of us. Some people at home do not support the policy of the current administration but hold firm their support of the troops. That people make that distinction is important to us.

The truth is that the terrorists are here in this country. They want to disrupt and destroy lives here and gain popular support to attack us again on our own soil. We need to fight them here and prevent the next mass casualty event in the United States. Aside from strategic goals of prevent global terrorism we have an obligation not to abandon the Iraqis who suffer violence daily.

There are just as many questions leaving here as when I arrived. I find my mood neither joyful nor somber. Maybe I am just tired.

Finally, the one thing that I count among my successes is this blog. I was reminded of that fact by a reader from the Netherlands. I have been able to reach home to New York and to other places in the world and give the narrow, Soldier’s perspective on this Global War on Terror. I find it remarkable that 7,458 (at last count) people have read this journal since I added the counter back in February. I have received supportive feedback that reminded me that I was making you proud.

I will post some more as time allows and I head home. I expect to post on the homecoming with Lisa, Sam, and return to life in general.

Thank you, one and all.

07:05:26:27

End of Tour Part II

2005-06-15T04:51:00.000-04:00

The second half of this tour and been long and, at times, disappointing.

I moved from having a Team to having the duties and responsibilities of a Staff Officer; a desk job with the occasional bi-weekly meeting at the DC hall. The tedium of that mission coupled with the slow OPTEMPO when the Third Infantry Division moved in made for very long days and weeks until mid-May when I was responsible for preparing for the arrival of the new unit and our departure.

It is hard to be just a minor cog in the big Army machine.

The other frustration has been dealing with the personalities and daily “dramas” that rose up here in late February. Without a doubt, I have never been more disappointed working with the officer corps, or any other group of adults than I have in my life.

The atmosphere reminds me of sophomore year of high school. The rumors, the talking about people behind their backs, the inability to get along, the lack of teamwork, the petty issues that festered into larger ones; all of it made for four unpleasant months of work. Although everyone did their own work, and the quality of the work was good, we simply stopped communicating effectively. In some cases we stopped communicating altogether.

The environment was a dramatic difference from what I am used to working with. At home I am part of a team that works together for a common goal. Ideas are vetted against what is feasible and makes sense with everyone having a voice. My boss has a leadership style that fosters that kind of communication. I, in turn, set the example for my Cadets to be the kind of leader that I look up to. There is not a day that I do not enjoy walking across the Barton Hall floor to go to work.

My experience here has shown me more of what not to do. I will take numerous examples and apply them to lessons for my students. I also think it allows me to empathize with them on some level when I see their frustrations when they cannot get along with others.

Rather than me pointing fingers about this situation, we were all responsible for letting it get this way. Unfortunately, there are others that do point fingers and do not filter their comments and accusations with the appropriate level of professionalism.

The iconic image of Soldiers bonding under extreme circumstances may be true in long, exposed periods of fighting. Here, however, insecurities and jealousies were more harmful than bullets or bombs. Upon our final departure in the U.S. there are very few of us who will keep in contact with one another. It makes me sad, but fortunately my introvertedness doesn’t seem to make me too upset about it.

On an interesting note, many of the other units have the same problems. I have heard stories of fist fights, disorderly behavior, and anger management issues. And that is among the officers! Therefore, it is not just a reflection on this Company but, perhaps, a sign of greater tribulations for the Army.

If there is an issue with the Army it is that the tours are too long. The Marines, Navy, and Air Force all deploy for 6 months. Most of the internal conflict we have encountered began right around the 6 month mark. Maybe the other services are on to something.

Nine months to a year in Theater is too long. The problem is that some bean counter in the Pentagon, someone who has never been in combat, someone who has the task to be “efficient”, made the determination that staying longer saved the Army money. For that, he or she was given a medal and promoted. However, there are hidden costs that need to be paid along the way.

Army recruiting is down almost 25% for the year, the divorce rate among officers has risen to 78%, the wear and tear on people’s mental and physical health for long termed exposure to this environment; none of this was factored into the decision for long tours. Add into that 12 months the reality of having to return within the next 12 to 14 months for another tour and now retention of good Soldiers is affected. This is not just in the Reserves, but Active Duty as well.

My indictment of the system is a grumbling that many others share despite the willingness to put on our boots each day and go into harm’s way and do good things. That is what makes us Soldiers.

The tour is almost over and I look forward to the end. I look forward to taking my experiences here and grow from them. In the next entry I will try to tie the good and the bad together and sum it all up.

To be concluded…

09:11:11:17

End Of Tour Part I

2005-06-13T09:13:00.000-04:00

To sum my tour in Iraq I realized I need to write it in three parts. The first part covers most of the time up to my Leave when I was still a Team Chief. The second covers that time after I returned until present. Finally, to end it, a piece to put it all together.

I had several goals for myself coming to Iraq. I wanted to test myself in “combat” against all of the fear, gruesomeness, loneliness, and preconceived notions of what it would be like. I wanted to compare myself against the “other guy” and see if I measured up. I also wanted to make some money to tuck away for my future. Finally, I wanted to right a wrong in my life that happened several years ago and bring honor and dignity back to my family.

The first half of the tour was a mix of emotions, but I enjoyed it. Almost immediately I was aware of what living in a combat zone meant. Rockets and mortars began falling on the FOB within the first weeks of us taking over the Civil Affairs mission. Every evening firefights could be heard outside the walls and tracer rounds glowed through the night sky. There was more fear walking on the FOB than there was running missions.

Taking and leading a team on daily missions was a close as I will ever get to actual combat because the possibility was always there. The responsibility of the mission and the Soldiers on it was, and is, an awesome task. The Civil Affairs mission of interacting with locals and taking time to hear their concerns and hopes for a future gave me perspective into the Middle Eastern mind and made me appreciate my life back in the US even more. Managing projects that helped the quality of life for villagers and suburbanites alike gave the reward of being a small part of the solution to the country's many woes.

To be honest, I never expected my individual presence here to turn the tide of popular support. Nor did I expect it make a difference on local scale. I was right and wrong. Lisa reminded me of tossing starfish back into the sea. Although all of them cannot be saved, some can.

In the big picture there are wounds in Iraq that will take generations to heal. $18 billion does not buy a quick fix in a land where politics, tribalism, violence, and religion all blend together. However, I did make a difference to a few individuals; the contractor whose money was lost and then found, the family of the Sergeant who still visit a man in a hospital instead of a cemetery stone. Those are personal victories.

Compared to the next officer, I know that I am in the forward edge of the bell shaped curve. Not General material, but able to hold my own amongst my peers. I have made a career out of the Army Reserves (one weekend a month, my ass) but I would not complete that career on Active Duty. It is not that I couldn’t compete; it’s just that I enjoy my life and what I do now.

Financially, I did save a good deal of money for my future. Being on Active Duty earns me more money than at home, plus living in a Hostile Fire Zone allows my pay to be tax free. I sound selfish to know that a goal is to make money instead of wrapping myself in the administrations mantra of democracy in the Middle East. Military life is not always about truth, justice, and the American way. Yes, those are standards I still prescribe to; however, gone are the days of being an idealistic crusader. The military has always been a tool to get ahead in life for the individual looking to make a new life and get away from dead end dreams. The military is a stepping stone for many of my students who use ROTC to pay for school, serve four years, and go on to big, more lucrative aspirations. Everyone here has their own agenda and this was an item on mine.

However, it was not the item at the top of the list.

For those people who nobly serve the community, whether it is a town, city, or nation, there is an internal satisfaction of being the Centurion. It is part of the calling. Unless you “serve”, this characteristic is difficult to describe and difficult to understand. Disgrace in this role is unacceptable. Once in my life I dishonored those values I believe in. I made a mistake that cost more than I wanted to pay. At the time it was a tremendous blow to me and my family. It was a personal failure that ate at me for years. That mistake was in the back of my mind as I came over here.

I have atoned for my mistake on my own terms. Through my actions and through my character I served my nation, my Soldiers, and the people of Iraq honorably. I have mended this important piece of my life and I can move on.

I was able to do all of these things within the first half of my tour but the tour wasn’t about my “agenda” and therefore I Soldiered on.

The second half of the tour provided my greatest challenge as an officer.

To be continued…

11:06:49:01

Fuzzy Math

2005-06-10T12:18:00.000-04:00

14:03:43:01

Sort of.

Everyone in the unit is focused on going home. It's hard not to when everyday brings a new briefing for de-mob (go home and de-mobilize). In a few days we will pack our non-essential gear up and send it to BAIP to go home. Most of us are in the process of packing the gear and mailing extra things home.

All talk is about movement to the US and less and less about missions. We are to the point now where we do not run missions unless they are absolutely necessary. I have felt the most apprehension that I have felt since October and November in these last few days. My missions to the DC or the IZ are easier than the Teams who still go out into sector. However, that fear of being so close to the end and not wanting to get hurt rises up and stays with you once you roll out of the gate.

The good news is that the replacements are in North Carolina and are awaiting their turn to board an aircraft to come here. We expect them soon. We are making room for them in our living spaces. The spaces they will take over soon enough.

I have been thinking of the post that sums it up. The last post from Iraq. The the post where I tell you what I have learned in the last nine months. I am working on it.

In the meantime you all have noticed the "clock" in the bottom of my posts since we had 99 days to go. That day is the mark on the calendar that higher headquarters set for the transfer of authority from our unit to the incoming unit.

That day isn't entirely written in stone for when we can start moving. In fact, we may be off of the FOB sooner rather than later but be back in the States later than expected. Clear? I do expect to celebrate fireworks on the Fourth of July in the United States.

This changing of dates and the uncertainty of exactly when we are leaving requires patience, rumor control, and asking lots of questions to the right people. Fortunately, I am in control of all three, even though the day we are leaving moves to the left or the right depending on the email I am reading.

The bottom line is that we are leaving Iraq - soon - but the precise time and place remains to be seen.

14:03:20:03

Operation Samantha

2005-06-07T07:15:00.000-04:00

Yesterday Sam was approached by a Third Grader who told her that her daddy was going to die in Iraq.

Children are cruel and will say things without consideration for others. Kids are mean. Sam immediately went into a funk, threw up, and was taken out of school by her mother.

To give Sam credit, she did not react violently. Unfortunately, she turned a lot of the fear inward where it is still holding on firmly until I get home. Would I be upset if she had dealt with it directly? Only a little. However, let’s give Sam her due, she has come on long way since February when she had adjustment issues when I returned to the war from Leave.

To give her mother credit, Stacey is going to allow Sam to follow up by being there when Sam confronts this child. Stacey continues to deal with being a “temporary single parent” in a very unusual situation.

I was able to go on line and find the principal’s email address. I sent her off a “please address this issue” email. Within minutes I received a reply. In the liberal community of Ithaca, I was almost expecting a deflection on the part of the principal. Maybe it was my fear of anti-military, anti-war political stance being applied to my daughter. Needless to say, I was wrong and I apologize for thinking that way.

The principal was already aware of the situation and was on top it. She planned to speak to the boy’s parents when they arrived later in the day. I thanked her for her support of Sam and Sam’s issues surrounding my deployment.

That wasn’t enough for me. I sent Sam flowers to help cheer her up.

That still wasn’t enough and so I ask for help from you. You all have been very supportive of me for the past 9 months. I ask you to extend that support to Sam. If you could take just 10 minutes and send her a card. Lisa came up with the idea to call it "Operation Samantha". Let Samantha know that she is brave and loved. Over the course of the few days it will take for all the cards to get there it will a tremendous boost to her and help me feel better too.

Her address is in care of her mom's work:

Stacey Payette
Operation Samantha
Ithaca High School
1401 North Cayuga St
Ithaca, NY 14850

Thank you all for your support. The time is winding down. I look forward to getting home safe and sound to my daughter.

17:08:35:11

The People Who Make It Happen

2005-06-05T05:26:00.000-04:00

For the last 8 ½ months I have lived on a FOB. The FOB houses military, civilian contractors, local national interpreters, and third nation workers – several thousand people in all. The FOB is a small city. It has its own mayor and administration. Despite rockets and mortars and the hum of the military machine that runs twenty four hours a day, the city consistently operates smoothly thanks to hundreds of unsung, unnoticed, and unappreciated people.

On my five minute walk to dinner this evening I observed no less than 37 port-a-potties. There is a small army of men who drive around in smelly trucks all day long and clean, scrub, spray down, and maintain these and five times more their number all across the FOB, several times a day. The port-a-potties are immaculately clean.

There are the laundry people. These are local nationals, mostly young Christians, who take hundreds of bags of laundry every day. They wash it, dry it, and fold it so that there is one less worry for me in my daily routine. Within two days I can get my clothes back. Sure, the socks don’t always match, but then I can never get them to match at home either.

Next to the laundry people is the man who presses my uniform. For one dollar per uniform he irons my DCUs by hand. He used to have a real press until it broke. He stands there in his shorts and stained t-shirt sweating profusely pushing a hot iron in a hot room. He always greets me with a smile and I make sure to give him more than is necessary when I pay him for making me look professional in a crisp uniform.

There are dozens of third party nationals; Sri Lankans, Pakistanis, Indians, and Filipinos who work in the DFAC making, serving, and cleaning up our meals. They are the utmost polite, friendly beyond words in their uniform of white shirts, dark plaid vests, bow ties, and hats. I make sure to say “please” and “thank you” instead of treating them like indentured servants. They all live together in a small community on the FOB – neither Americans, nor Iraqis, they are their own unique group. We watch them play cricket on the field. They laugh and carry on just as we would but we are worlds apart.

The water men deliver fresh water to the showers. The local water is not reliable by Western standards so water is brought in from Kuwait. They drive up in a large tanker truck with calendar girls in bikinis in the front windows. There trucks are always decorated inside in a unique, yet slightly tacky, 70’s motif of beads and tassels. They fill tanks with the water we use to shower, shave, and brush our teeth.

The shower facilities have 20 shower heads, 20 toilets and 20 sinks. There are several all over the FOB. Each day at around noon a group of men come in with squeegees, scrubbers, cleaner, and cartons of toilet paper to clean up after the hundreds of Soldiers who used it all morning long.

The FOB is not connected to the Iraqi power grid. In order for us to have power 24 hours a day, huge generators are positioned around the FOB to supply the electricity we need to run computers, machinery, water pumps, and every other electrical device. The generator men maintain these generators. It is 117 degrees outside as I write this. The generators are another 20 degrees hotter to work around. Working in that furnace and doing the job safely is a mighty task.

All of these jobs go on everyday, day after day, with little or no notice by the people who benefit from the service. I am sure that I have left a lot of people out; the firemen, the private security guards, the guy who pays the interpreters, the towel man at the gym...

Today, I say thank you.

19:10:35:46

Photo Of The Day

2005-06-04T10:18:00.000-04:00

Squatter children swarm a Soldier handing out toys.

Because Civil Affairs deals with the public on a regular basis we usually carry humanitarian aid; shoes, toiletries, food, and toys. All the children know we have toys and once they see us distributing them rush us. It's fun and a little unnerving at the same time to be surrounded by kids all screaming, "Mista, gimmee."

20:17:53:47

The ADVON Is Here, The ADVON Is Here!

2005-05-30T10:57:00.000-04:00

ADVON: The Advanced Party of an Army unit that is moving from one place to another. Responsible for preparing the area, gaining information, and coordinating with the Main Body for their arrival.

In other words...the relief is finally here! Granted there are only two of them - but it is a start.

Today my counterpart and the counterpart for the supply sergeant arrived. They are tired from the trip; North Carolina to Ireland to Qatar to Iraq in the last 48 hours. Neither of these men have been to Iraq before and I am empathic to how they feel. I took pity on them and kept the first day simple; a tour, a nap, dinner, a shower, and bed. Tomorrow starts the process of briefings and handing over information.

Although our unit is still in the game until the end a lot of our focus is now on making a transition for the new unit as seamless as possible. Until the Main Body arrives we will be showing the ADVON what "right looks like" in order to set them up for success.

It's hard not to be a little excited.

25:01:07:22

300 Feet Over Baghdad

2005-05-27T04:37:00.000-04:00

Flying Over Iraq
Helicopter rides are cool. They just are. They’re even cooler when you are riding, doors open, and just above tree top level above the hostile territory of Baghdad.

We planned an aerial recon mission over our area of responsibility. The purpose was two fold; first to document projects and muhallas from the air. The second was to do reward ourselves for nine months of hard work.

Standing at the PZ (Pick-up Zone) thirteen of us were lined up like tourists going a trip over the Grand Canyon. We all had our cameras out and ready to go. Within minutes, two Blackhawk helicopter came thundering in to the FOB. As soon as the crew chiefs were out of the birds we were walking under the rotors, still spinning at high speed; everyone instinctively ducked walking under them.

We all found our seats and strapped in with shoulder and lap belts. Amazing how tight and uncomfortable you are willing to make yourself when you know the doors will be open. I sat in the door seat, sitting backwards in the aircraft. You would think that in a war zone there would be some type of safety briefing on what to do if fill in the blank here. Nope. Either the pilots were that confident of their flying or that confident of us not surviving a crash.

Airborne

With a surge of power we were all pushed down in our seats and we were airborne over Baghdad. The lowest we could fly was 200 feet. The highest we ever climbed to was about 300 feet. We banked and turned, at some points we were practically on our side, looking down, instead of out over the horizon. I could feel the gravity pushing on me as we yawed to make the turn tighter. I once spent a day with Pat at Cedar Point riding roller coasters all day long. That day couldn’t touch this one.

We flew over the homes of Baghdad. Seeing it from the air provided a completely different perspective of the city. The city is alive in so many ways. Seeing the mass of humanity, six million people in all; people in their schools, at their jobs, working on their homes, driving on the roads, and shopping in the markets indicated that the Iraqi people are far from being defeated by all of the recent changes that have occurred over the past 2 ½ years. Still there are many issues that are magnified from the air; trash in open lots and lakes of sewage was worse than I expected.

Urban Sprawl

We flew over the Tigris, a nasty confluence of sewage, petroleum run off, and river water. Fishermen, working out of small boats made what living they could from the river. We observed irrigation canals delivering life giving water to the rural farms south of the urban areas. Huge swaths of green reminded me that the land is just as alive as the city is and that agriculture is still part of the future of the country.

Over the Tigris

The entire time we were over Baghdad we kept clicking away. We flew to BIAP to refuel. I switched seats so that I was now facing forward. This leg of the trip was spent over the IZ. We buzzed all of the landmarks; the 14th Of July Bridge, the Embassy Palace, the Saber Arch, and the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. The IZ looks different from the air when you can see what is behind the 20 foot concrete walls that surround every building and compound. The capitol will be beautiful some day, once all of the security barriers are removed.

Aerial Tour

Once we were done with the tour the pilot put the foot down on the throttle and we rocketed back to the FOB. Like school children after a field trip we were all giddy and excited and ran off to download and share our pictures. It was one of the highlights of the tour. Somewhere above the day I “commanded” a Bradley in the IZ, but far below the anticipation of the last flight out of here.

28:11:26:01

Some Thoughts On The Media

2005-05-24T23:41:00.000-04:00

I will be honest right up front. I both like and loathe the press. I like to be interviewed and I like to be on television. Conceited, I know. I am at the same time distrustful of the media.

In my life I have been interviewed for the news a handful of times. During the course of this mission alone I have been interviewed by two TV news stations before I left; once in a “live via phone” interview during the election in January; once for a couple of seconds for my favorite news program, NPR’s “Morning Edition” in February; and twice by Army Public Affairs who takes footage and then turns it into stories for hometown news media. Most of the stories had a favorable slant to them.

Not all the attention I have received has been positive. Once, I was on the receiving end of erroneous report that I assaulted a 15 year old boy during the course of an arrest at his school (for those of you who don’t know; once upon a time I was in law enforcement). Although the initial story made the front page, the retraction, once the truth was made known, was buried in the back of the paper.

In Iraq we have every medium of the press waiting for the next news story. AP, Reuters, CNN, Al Jazeera and Arab news of every type, BBC, and all the networks are represented. They all have a job to do; sell the news.

However, that isn’t exactly right. I meant to say that they have a job to do; sell cars. Sell hamburgers. Sell cola, and clothes, and beer, and all the things that keep money rolling into the station. They are all blood thirsty hounds trading horror for profit. Don’t believe me? Would you rather turn into a story of American Soldiers building a water tower for local villagers or are you more apt to pay attention to the car bomb that killed X number of military and civilian. The latter makes you stop in your tracks. After all, your friends and loved ones are here and that thought of, “oh please let me here from Rich soon,” goes through your head when you hear about another dead American.

This may be over simplified but the news is a business. The news makes it profit not from the quality of the story but from advertisers, whether they are global entities or local shops. Ratings help the advertisers decide where they are going to spend their money. Ratings are decided by the viewership. The viewers tend to be attracted to sensational stories and attractive talking heads sitting behind desks. (Maybe this is why the All Grandmother Sewing Channel failed). Therefore, the news has a requirement to get you to tune in for the news, but to also get you to stay for the commercials and print add.

I am not trying to take away from venerated reporters and exceptional journalism, but in the wake of recent integrity issues in Newsweek, the New York Times, and CBS, doesn’t this ring a little true?

The press can be positive in their stories and does not always have to use murder, explosions, and brutality to boost ratings. They also know how to tug at your emotions. In February you remember that Brian’s brother David was killed in action in Iraq. A respected military columnist, Joe Galloway, wrote about David in Stars and Stripes. The story got picked up by NBC who attended the funeral (with the permission of the family). Then with the Army’s approval and the family’s approval, Dateline NBC did a story on the two brothers. They followed Brian back to Baghdad for a follow up here at the FOB. The story will air this weekend for Memorial Day.

The press can use stories for political issues. There is a debate in Congress over the roll of women in combat. A recent web based news journal highlighted our four female machine gunners. Such an article flies in the face of the “wisdom” of Washington and can be used as, pardon the pun, ammunition. With cable networks such as CNN and FOX taking up opposite side of the political spectrum, how can we not be jaded in our opinion of honest, unbiased reporting?

I have learned to work with the press because, like I said, I like to see my face on TV. I have seen and heard the words I have said not have the same meaning they did when asked and small comments or opinions taken out of context. When I have to deal with the press I prepare just as they do. I ask the questions before hand. I make them “cut” if I don’t like my answer. Finally, I am wise enough to stay “in my lane” and not talk about strategic level or policy level issues that I have no right to discuss. This last point is especially true for those of us in uniform.

Overall, I think the press has been favorable to the military since the war started. They have done an admirable job differentiating between politics and Soldiers. They highlight individuals and team successes. They give our families access to their loved ones in ways that help them understand our lives here better. They continue to portray those that serve honorably as heroes. For those reasons, I am glad the press is with us.

Our mission is done in a month and the press will be in Syracuse to meet us. I will be the senior ranking officer there. Lucky me; lights, camera, action.

30:16:17:22

Interpreters

2005-05-23T08:10:00.000-04:00

Among the most important tools that we have at our disposal are the interpreters. They are as important as a HUMVEE, a rifle, or body armor. We simply could not do our jobs without them.

Interpreters come in many categories. The top category is the American born, Arabic linguist. These people are allowed upper level security clearances and usually work at the embassy level. The next level are Middle Eastern born, naturalized Americans, many of them former Iraqis, who return to make big money as translators. They work for Army personnel of high rank. Then there are local national interpreters. These are the translators we work with the most. Some live with us full time. Some come to work at 0800 and leave by 1600. All interpreters, regardless of nationality, are paid through a US defense contractor.

Interpreters are more than translators. They are informal cultural instructors. They help us get things off of the local economy; such as gifts, satellite TV, paint, rugs, and the list goes on. They provide information through their own lines of communication. They provide us a ground truth to what people are telling us. Therefore, interpreters are considered pariahs among some of there own countrymen. The local national translators who live with us do so because they are marked for death by AIF.

There is a rule, “Never trust your life to an interpreter.” Although true, it is hard not to build relationships on a personal level with someone who works with you every day. The relationship goes beyond business. They work with us, eat with us, live among us, and relax with us. Age groups usually stick to age groups. It is not unusual to find one or two local national translators watching movies with the enlisted. The older Soldiers and translators have their own “coffee clutch” and walking group. It is not unusual to find yourself talking about home, mom, apple pie, and Main Street, USA, without them telling you that is their dream to experience.

Interpreters range in their abilities. There have been many time that the local national that I am talking to speaks better than the translator working for me. However, the bottom line is that most Americans cannot speak Arabic, and therefore must rely on trust that the interpreter is saying what you say. You have to trust that they are not editorializing what you say, or worse, adding their own agenda to it.

There are numerous cases of interpreters speaking directly in front of us, extorting contractors. They tell them that they can get them the winning bid on a contract for a small fee. Because that is the way business is done in this part of the world the contractor readily gives up an extra amount of cash. After all, they are soaking the Americans anyway.

The interpreters are required to play by Western rules. When it is discovered they are dishonest in any way they are dismissed.

Such was the case last week when a local interpreter was discovered to be drawing two paychecks from two separate US companies, when in actuality; he was only working for one. A typical Iraqi, once he was exposed, he then attempted to resign from the one he was drawing a paycheck from but not actually working for. Before that could happen the employer he was working for fired him. The interpreter, having just been fired, then turned around and tried to work for the people he was going to quit. They fired him too.

The interpreter was none other than my former interpreter, Kahlid. Sweet little Kahlid. Kahlid; who taught me about Islam, Iraq, and how things work in this country. Kahild was as close to a friend that I have in this country.

I was not shocked by the news. Kahlid always worked his own angles to his own benefit. We looked the other way because of Kahlid’s talents as an engineer, linguist, and local who could gather information that we could not. However, blatantly lying and drawing two paychecks was beyond the grey area that Kahlid normally existed in.

I saw him out on his last day. He wished me and my family well. It wasn’t an emotional moment. Arab men do not show shame, nor do they admit guilt. We merely shook hands, smiled, and bid each other good wishes.

On a personal level I suppose that is the way I will leave Iraq; with a smile and good wishes.

And so it goes here.

32:07:48:22

Just Who Is In Charge Here Anyway?

2005-05-20T01:08:00.000-04:00

We had a meeting among the Civil Affairs officers last week where we discussed the need to engage the local Sheiks and imams. After all, we have been meeting with them for a long time and they have yet to produce any kind of results that indicate a more secure Iraq. That begs the questions, who are the sheiks and imams? Are they important? If they are unable to affect change, then who can and how? Who is in charge here anyway?

Every other week we have meetings at the DC Hall. One day it is with imams. A few days later it is with sheiks. Imams are religious leaders that represent the Sunni and Shi’a faithful of the Islam religion. The sheiks represent tribal lineages that may date back decades or centuries. Both groups were largely marginalized in a secular, socialist, Ba’ath Party regime.

These groups are now looking for legitimacy in the new government. They are looking for a voice and a seat of power. Because we replaced Saddam they are looking to us to invite them to the table.

Our reasons for meeting these groups is simple, we need to measure the pulse of the people through them. We also allow them to voice their concerns over security and the future of Iraq. Naturally, they all want to be a part of that future. They also let us know there needs; immunity from arrest, keep Iraqi soldiers out of mosques, weapons cards for self protection, and, most importantly control over there muhallas for projects.

The sheiks are the worst. They boast 10,000 men – all ready to work at a moments notice. They claim control over security in their respective areas and put off responsibility of terrorist acts on “people who come in from outside”, meaning foreigners or Iraqis from Falluja, Basra, Tikrit. They go back to the same mantra, “if you give us power, we can solve the problem of security.” Of course there is where the logic falls apart. On one hand, if they don’t know who is committing the acts then how can they stop it? And if they do know who is doing it, then why won’t they stop it now?

The conclusion is that they are not the solution and to give them any kind of authority could be disastrous.

The imams are not as power or money greedy as the sheiks. Their primary concern is to keep Iraqi soldiers out of mosques and to seek the release of “innocent” citizens accused of terrorism. Regardless of their religious preference, some imams support terrorism through the use of the mosque as a storage place for weapons and a meeting place for planners. A raid early this year in a nearby mosque bared the evidence in a huge cache of guns. They claim to deliver a message of peace and support, but their own recorded words incite the faithful to take up arms against their own Muslim brothers in the Army, police, and security forces.

Not one imam has ever come forward to give the name of a criminal, let alone AIF. They too have proved that they are not part of the solution.

None of these men have shown any kind of true leadership or power within their own ranks. In a country where there were 500,000 paid informants during the time of the regime it is impossible to think that these men do not know the truth and the faces behind the black masks. If neither the sheiks nor the imams can affect change, then who holds the reigns of power? What people are out there still left to be engaged who can stand up and provide true leadership for this country’s people?

While it is true that the elections were very successful all they did was elect a central governing body. However, in places like Al Doura, Al Saidyia, and Rustimyia, the people are still looking for that representative, that voice of the people. Furthermore, there is no process in place for local representation, at least not yet.

It is likely that this will be a strong, top down, government instead of a power from the people government. By all indications, the former is what this country needs to succeed. Yes, it will be a democracy, but not like we expect it to be.

35:14:59:13

Photo Of The Day

2005-05-17T21:54:00.000-04:00

This picture was taken on the FOB. The military contracts American firemen, with American firetrucks to provide 24 hour fire, safety, and hazmat protection.

I took this picture for Dad, Andy, and my nephew Lucas.

37:18:07:06

Dinner Plans

2005-05-15T13:13:00.000-04:00

I have not posted in a while and I need to catch everyone up on the latest here.

First, the Sergeant is in the United States at Bethesda Naval Hospital. I know that he is off a respirator for up to eight hours at a time. He recognizes and acknowledges his wife and daughter and can nod or shake his head to questions. The neurosurgeon believes it is a tremendous amount of progress in such a short time. A lot of my prayers have been answered for this man and his family and they have been answered. My faith continues to be renewed. Through indirect means the Sergeant’s wife has contacted us and thanked us for saving her husband’s life. That is the greatest reward.

Second, I am in charge of the Company while the boss is on a couple of days of R&R. There is a lot of tension among the officers right now. Tempers flare from time to time. We have been here long enough and we are all simply ready to go home. Dealing with the “issues” saps my mental strength. So, for the next few days I get to sit at the big desk and working to keep the place from falling apart. So far, no problem.

Next, we continue the plans for our re-deployment home. Most of the paperwork is completed, the awards have been written, and I continue to send boxes of non-essential stuff home. The advance group of our replacements is due here in two weeks. The main body arrives in less than a month. Although we leave in 41 days, the actual day I expect to walk through the door of my home is in mid-July. There is a process in Fort Bragg that we must go through before we go home.

Iraq continues to be a violent place. However, every day there are more Iraqi Army units moving into our area. Every night they go out and deal out justice. The people are still glad to see them here. Many of the suspected terrorists that we know are seen less often. Others, with murky ties to AIF, complain that the Iraqi military is too tough. To that we smile and tell them, “Well, you said we were not doing the job well enough. So, we found someone who could.”

Finally, I spent time today with an Iraqi acquaintance of mine. He is a lawyer and has done some work for me. He told me that many, many Iraqis are happy that the Americans removed Saddam Hussein from power. We talked about the future of the country. He, like most Iraqis, is hopeful for a better future. He said that he would like to invite me to his home for dinner but knows that we cannot do that now. Maybe in ten years the concrete barriers will be gone. Maybe then the concertina wire will only seen on farms to keep in livestock. Maybe then street intersections will have traffic police and not armed soldiers. I told my friend that I would come back to that Iraq. I would not have to wear body armor or ride in an armored truck.

We put our dinner plans on hold.

40:02:47:33

Photo Of The Day

2005-05-11T13:27:00.000-04:00

Men make furniture by hand out in the open along a main street in Al Rashid, Baghdad.

True craftsmen at work make furniture the way they have for generations. The furniture; head boards, end tables, couches and elaborate mirrors are all crafted by hand. Stands of wood are cut and bent into the desired shape and nailed into place. Each piece is then finished with stain and sold at the market.

(These men were futured in a NPR story back in February which had a brief clip from me.)

Photo Of The Day

2005-05-08T09:14:00.000-04:00

If you see this woman, wish her a Happy Mother's Day!

Mom and I were photographed in Fort Bragg in the days before my departure for Iraq. You cannot forget things like Mother's Day, even over here. Thank goodness for the Internet and florists!

47:06:33:34

Brave Men

2005-05-04T12:14:00.000-04:00

Brave Men was the title of a book by Ernie Pyle, the famous World War II journalist, about soldiers in the European Theater. It was stories about common soldiers and the uncommon hardships they faced.

In my last post someone asked if all of the groups I listed were against us, then who is with us? I have met the brave men who are with us.

We roll out of the FOB as we kick up a huge dust storm as Up-Armored HUMVEEs and M-1 Abrams tanks and Bradley Fighting Vehicles enter into the never ending stream of traffic on the major highway. We are somewhat safe and secure in our armor as we maintain a safety bubble around us, never allowing a local national's car to get too close. Traveling in the opposite direction is a most unusual convoy. Brown Nissan pickup trucks and open sided cargo trucks filled with soldiers of the new Iraqi National Guard (ING).

The ING travel without armor in these convoys, with machine guns mounted into the floor of the trucks. Each man carrys an AK-47 rifle. Many wear hoods or face masks to protect their identities. They man posts on roads and overpasses, check points, and key buildings throughout the area of operation. They go into the neighborhoods where we would not and bring terrorists to justice.

In February, I caught my first glimpse of a T-72 (Russian) tank as Iraqi armor patrolled the main highway. At first sight I was a little shocked. I had never seen an operable T-72 tank; let alone one heading towards me with an Iraqi flag on it. Although it has taken time, the Iraqi Army (IA), different in their scope and mission from the ING, is becoming more of a force to be reckoned with here. They are proud of their names; Tiger Brigade, Falcon Brigade, and Wolf Brigade.

I spoke to the commander of the Wolf Brigade. He had just come down from a city to the north where his soldiers had "cleaned up". When asked what he was doing in southern Baghdad he looked at me through his cigarette smoke as if it was my first day in country. "We're here to kill as many terrorists as we can," he replied flatly.

Although not up to US standards of training and discipline, the new Iraqi Army and ING are effective in ways we never will be. These soldiers understand the Iraqi/Middle Eastern mind. They know the people and can identify the subtle dialect differences that indicate someone is not from the area. They are willing to use force in ways we will not. The allegations of heavy handed techniques are probably true. Iraqis understand “the stick” and respond to it. They can go into mosques without the international and Muslim reprisal our forces would. They get the job done the Iraqi way.

Both the ING and the IA are filled with the same types of men our ranks are; many are young men seeking the only work they can find. Others are cut of the fabric that many of the Soldiers I know are cut from. They seek to protect and rid their country from the disease that plagues it. They are patriots and heroes. They are well spoken, proud, and confident. They are serious in the face of their duties but smile wide grins and laugh when back on the base.

They are brave men who pay the same terrible price we do, maybe even more so because it is at the hands of their own people. The face the uncommon hardships of VBIEDS, snipers, drive by shootings, and enemy who enlist into their ranks only to betray them to suicide bombers.

And they are making a difference. The locals we speak to are proud of their new Army. They cheer when tanks and armored vehicles roll into the muhallas. They hope for the Army to be well trained and professional as well as respectful of the ordinary citizens. The people know that the more of them that they see the more the terrorists are afraid. They also know that there more IA and ING they see the less US and multi-national forces they will see.

In time the IA and ING will be the ones who are responsible for the security of this area and the whole country. By this time next year our force will be 2/3 the size it is now. Eventually we will probably have a token force and advisors and the Iraqis will man the ramparts of their own freedom.

Who is on our side? The answer is we are on theirs.

50:01:37:18