ACE Report: Green, Green, Green

Part of my mobilization paperwork was delayed last week because there apparently was a red flag in my medical file pertaining to panic attacks related to PTSD. No big deal. In the vast majority of cases, this is certainly not a show-stopper. Thousands of soldiers deploy and re-deploy with associated PTSD diagnoses on their records. As a consequence of the flag, however, I was designated a “no go” until I had found my way across base to the behavior health clinic and been given a clean bill of health. The next day I found myself in a small office being interviewed by a full-bird colonel who was hunched over a computer battling in vain to keep it from randomly powering down. She asked questions, I answered questions, and she punched those answers into her temperamental computer. It was all very mundane, and she spent more time and attention focused on that computer than on me. Until, that is, she asked me what triggered the last panic attack. I told her that in May of last year I had seen a headline from a news article about a shooting that had taken place on Camp Liberty in Baghdad, where I had been stationed. (On May 11, 2009 a troubled sergeant had stolen a weapon and killed five soldiers at a counseling clinic on the base.) The headline and the first couple of sentences triggered the attack. At that point, the colonel stopped typing, slowly pushed herself away from her computer, and took off her glasses. She turned to me and said, “That was my clinic.” She hadn’t been there at the time, but was intimately familiar with everything about it. She said that she had trouble dealing with it at the time as well, and had to call upon her own colleagues to help her through that period.

I got my paperwork signed off, and we're good-to-go.

OEF: A New Adventure Begins

It has been over two and a half years since my last post to this blog, and I've received numerous inquiries as to whether or not I would resurrect the venue for the purposes of documenting my current...adventure. I've decided to do so, but an important couple of caveats must be acknowledged: The nature of my job necessitates far more circumspection on my part with regard to the nature of what I will be able to post in a public forum. Also, all previous posting related to our activities in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom. As of today, we embark upon a journey in support of Operation Enduring Freedom. Many of you are already aware of our ultimate destination. Those of you who are not, please be patient. I will discuss this topic more as we approach actually having boots on the ground.

I bid an emotional farewell to my family this morning at the airport. I had nearly forgotten that realization of the reality of departure can come as a shock to the system like a splash of ice water to the face. Months of preparation, planning and anticipation fade in comparison to the momentousness of a family torn apart at the gate of an airport concourse. With the exception of a few days of R&R some unknown number of months down the road, I will not see my family again for at least a year. It seems such a very long way away...

The flight to our MOB (mobilization) station was uneventful. Unfortunately, we deplaned to a disturbing discovery: Every one of our team's footlockers and duffel bags had the locks cut off by TSA, and the contents rifled. At baggage claim, one soldier's belongings tumbled onto the conveyor in bits and pieces; loose 30 round 5.56mm magazines had to be collected from amongst the arriving luggage of other passengers. The entire experience cemented the impression in the minds of the soldiers that TSA is riddled with thieves and other life forms that populate the lower strata of modern society. Nothing critical appears to have been pilfered, but we are still taking stock of missing inventory. Interestingly enough, mine appears to have been the only luggage untouched! There is no accounting for this, as nothing distinguishes mine from anyone else's belongings.

So, now we are engaged in getting settled into our new home for the next few weeks: scenic Fort Dix nestled in the heat and humidity of a late New Jersey summer. As is the case on almost every other Army post, the quarters are old, dirty, crowded, and a little odoriferous. Still, it could always be worse.

Transition

This will be my last blog entry from Iraq. My Internet account will expire in a couple of days, and I will not be renewing it. Our replacements are here, and we're on the downhill slope of handing everything over to them; our equipment, records, experience, relationships, accomplishments, failures and hopes. I am in awe when I reflect upon the changes that we've witnessed (participated in) over the course of the year, and how incredibly lucky we were to have navigated the experience unscathed. A year ago we stepped off a Boeing C-17 Globemaster at Baghdad International Airport, with our hearts in our throats, and into a country that was ripped asunder with sectarian violence. Soon, landing gear will fold up into the belly of an airplane that will be carrying us away from a country that is healing and rebuilding itself. Violence has dropped 90% in Baghdad over the course of our tour. A year ago, Iraqi soldiers planted IED's for us, and fled when attacked by insurgents. Today, we live with them. They call us brothers. They find IED's and disarm them on their own. They plan and execute their own raids, and roll up terrorists on a daily basis. I recently read an academic white paper that reached the conclusion that the US Army has transformed itself into the greatest counterinsurgency force in history. If true, it is an accomplishment made all the more remarkable by the obstacles arrayed against us: language, culture, religion, and all in a country surrounded by hostile neighbors pumping weapons, money and men into the war against us; and us undermined by disunity and political opposition back home. It is still a very long way from over, but there is no denying the momentum driving the social and political transformation in Iraq today augurs well for the future of the cradle of civilization.

We're coming home.

Winter wonderland

I woke up this morning, opened the door, and my jaw hit the floor. HUGE white snowflakes were drifting down out of the gray Baghdad skies. All the Iraqis we're talking to are saying that this is the first time in living memory that it has snowed in Baghdad. Sleet in winter is not so uncommon, but never snow. I'll resist cracking-wise about global warming, but perhaps it is time to sit back, take stock, and mull over the profound implications of the fact that... Hell has indeed frozen over!

...and a news article relating to the snow.

For the children

A little project we'd been working on for two months has finally been hand-held through to completion. Two months ago while engaged in an email exchange with a radio station back home on an entirely different subject, the folks there asked if there was anything they could do to for us to express their support. It immediately brought to mind a school we had recently visited packed with 4-6 year olds with absolutely no toys to play with, and teachers with no supplies with which to occupy their charges. This is largely a function of dramatically uneven distribution of resources by Iraq's Ministry of Education. Some schools are well supplied, some are entirely neglected. This one was of the latter category. The school also happened to be located less than a block from one of our JSSs (Joint Security Station). To that end, I told the folks at the radio station that we, as soldiers, lacked for nothing. However, if they saw fit to coordinate a toy drive to support this school, well... I could think of nothing that would be appreciated more, both by the soldiers, and the Iraqi people. So began a journey that involved several businesses from back home, and hundreds of ordinary people who went out of their way to make a small gesture of support and affection. The cumulative effect of that effort was realized this week when we loaded up a convoy of humvees and delivered the toys to the school.

The radio station posted the photos from the drive on their website HERE.

Furthermore, HERE is a link to a recording of a call-in interview I did with the outstanding folks at the radio station in the days following.

US...O...nevermind

It was billed as a star-studded USO entertainment tour for armed forces on the ground. For the first part of our tour we were stationed at the periphery of the war; a nasty little base known best for being the Southern point of the "Sunni Triangle", a.k.a. "Triangle of Death". No USO shows made it out to those nether-regions. After we moved to Baghdad, we were essentially too tired from a high mission tempo, or too busy to pay much attention to any of the shows that passed through. With this in mind, and with our schedule open, Bob and I decided that we would at last take advantage of the opportunity to put a good, ol' fashioned USO show under our belts at the end of our tour of duty. The show was to feature Robin Williams, Kid Rock, Lance Armstrong, and several others. We headed over to the Division field house where the meet-and-greet was to take place. We arrived a full hour and forty-five minutes early to ensure ourselves a seat, and there was already a substantial line. While we waited, the temperature dropped, and the line rapidly lengthened. We estimated that by the time they opened the doors, there were approximately 3,000 persons in line for a venue that was going to be limited to 600 persons.

Rumors started to move through the crowd even before we entered the building. Once inside, they were confirmed. High winds in Tikrit had grounded the helicopters, and the show was canceled. Instead, we were greeted to a ten minute "pep talk" by the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Admiral Mullen, who reassured us that he received briefings on what was going on in Iraq. Really. He then proceeded to distribute commemorative coins, shake hands, and have his photo snapped with anybody who wished it. Bob and I received coins, but we were rushed through so rapidly, that we were unable to get photos with the Admiral.

While we were waiting in line, I scanned the crowd and it occurred to me that these USO concerts probably are not attended by the soldiers for whom they are largely intended. The soldiers doing the heavy-lifting in this war are the guys stationed away from the big bases. They're quartered out in the neighborhoods in converted office building, houses, or police stations. They make it back to base maybe one day out of the week. Instead, those attending these "moral-boosting" functions appeared to be largely the "fobbits"; those with desk jobs, Air Force personnel, and others who otherwise almost never make it outside the wire. A significant percentage of the crowd was also civilians; handsomely compensated KBR employees and contractors. We stood in line next to a group of these guys who loudly compared the quality of many of the USO shows and celebrities they'd had occasion to see over the past year.

It is now Christmas day. The dining facilities on base are packed with soldiers taking advantage of an extravagant Christmas dinner with all the trimmings. Rather than deal with the huge lines, our detachment opted to ante up, and one of our interpreters arranged to bring in a positively massive authentic Iraqi feast from one of Baghdad's finer restaurants. The quantity and variety of delectables was mind-boggling. All manner of meats and vegetables, rice, soups, sauces, and breads, were followed by a selection of sweet desserts. It was enough, even for a short while, to relieve the ache of being so far from home and loved ones.

Merry Christmas from Baghdad.

Something wicked this way comes

Some new mechanical monsters are crawling through Baghdad's streets these days. They are MRAP (Mine Resistant Ambush Protected) vehicles. The medium sized US Army version began arriving a month or so ago, and units have gradually been getting trained up on them. Troop reaction has been mixed. My first reaction upon seeing them lined up outside our battalion headquarters was that these things are really going to irritate the Iraqis! The base vehicle is really tall. But when you add a turret, and all of the antennae required by the schmorgasboard of communications and anti-IED electronics, well... the gunner damn near performs the function of close air support! Here are some of the problems as I see it. First, most of Baghdad operates on power generated by local private, or neighborhood, generators rather than the cities power grid. This means that a large generator parked on a street corner will have hundreds of wires strung from it like a spider web feeding homes and businesses in the area. As the ability of the city to provide power ebbed, this chaotic overhead wiring began to blanket the city like a great, multi-colored cobweb. We routinely snag one or two of these low-hanging wires with our vehicle antennas when we drive through neighborhoods. They snap, and eventually somebody will have to come out and restring the wire. (We've also had guys electrocuted by these wires, and had equipment snagged that became dislodged from the vehicle and injured soldiers.) In most neighborhoods, the residents eventually began to accommodate the humvees by elevating the wiring beyond the reach of the antenna. However, now with the introduction of the MRAP, a huge percentage of the wire that feeds electricity to Baghdad's homes and business is now at risk once again. We recently did a patrol composed of one humvee (that would be us) and three MRAP's. We watched in awe as the vehicle in front of us took down strand after strand after strand of the wires strung over the streets. People on the sidewalks had to be particularly alert as cables snapped towards them like angry bullwhips. Not the most effective way to win hearts and minds!

Second, there is the psychological impact of having these monstrosities rolling through neighborhoods. There is no question that these are significantly more resistant to IED attack. However, one of the most effective components of the current counter-insurgency strategy is the integration with the communities we're tasked with protecting. This means, getting to know the people, developing relationships, and learning the proverbial pulse of the neighborhood. Rolling around in armored humvees makes achieving this level of intimacy difficult enough. (I personally would prefer greater emphasis on dismounted foot patrols.) But, moving from humvees to MRAP's, from a psychological point of view, only serves to distance us further from the population, and it comes at a time when the number if IED attacks against us appears to be nearing an all-time low.

Lastly, another drawback relating to the height of these beasts is the propensity of the crew to misjudge the distance to the ground when they dismount the vehicle. Burdened by armor, weapons and gear, we've seen numerous broken ankles and other injuries simply from getting in and out of the vehicles.

That said, not all units are using the MRAP's they've been issued. Some commanders are opting to just keep them on the property books and turn them over to the unit that replaces them when the time comes. It is also probably true that the vehicles are also being employed elsewhere, perhaps in more kinetically active areas or main supply routes, where the terrain and conditions give the characteristics of the MRAP a decided advantage over humvees. In my opinion, however, that just isn't the case in our area.