Man Camp

This is a picture of one of the camps where the guys live.
One of the most obvious things is to notice the heavy security against indirect fire (mortars and rockets). Every trailer is surrounded by sandbags and concrete walls. Our engineers did their best to preserve the palm trees...wish our contractor had been as careful in our subdivision in North Carolina! I am not even sure that I could find this place if I had to....On one of my flights, I could see the camp in the distance, aimed my camera and took the shot. There are lots of camps around filled with coalition folks, contractors, military, civilian, support personnel.

Sleeping on the roof

This picture is taken flying over the outskirts of Baghdad. The river in the background is the Tigris. It is easy to pick out the partner helicopter in the sky flying on our port side. All the heliopters fly in pairs.
In the upper left of the picture is one of the more dominant mosques in the area.

The roofs are all flat and can accomodate family visits and sleeping. In the summer when the nights are so hot, it is common for families to take their bedding onto the roof to sleep. In the past, there was concern about bullets falling from the sky, but that is less a threat then previously. Celebratory fire has been a real concern. You have seen video and news clips of people firing their weapons into the air to celebrate…Well, those bullets have to come down somewhere. Our chaplain assistant has picked up spent bullets off the carpet of the chapel where the rounds have come through the thin ceiling. Now, there is very little night time firing. There is a curfew for the streets and random rifle shooting will bring the newly trained Iraqi Police in short order.
The other thing to notice about the rooftops is the number of satellite dishes. That is the main way that the Iraqis find out about the world. Whoever owns the airwaves can own the future. The same can be said of the internet, but in Iraq, that will be a while. Internet is not as prevalent because there are not lines run to the home (hence the satellite dishes). Once cable is run and internet is common, expect to see exponential growth in the attitudes and perspectives of the populace.

New Sheriff in Town

We welcomed a new Ambassador this week.
After chapel on Sunday, many of us gathered in the Rotunda here in the Palace to hear remarks from our new Ambassador to Iraq.

Today, as I entered the Palace, the Rotunda was closed off. Only later, on Fox news did I see that Rumsfeld was here along with General Casey and our new Ambassador. They did not even invite me. They probably already knew that I was busy.

What is he thinking?

I watched a horrid video yesterday.
The video was taken from an Al Zarkawi network website. The producer propositioned a camera to videotape a distant car bomb as it exploded. The fireball, blast wave and then the resulting smoke were distinctive features on the tape. We hear bombs in the distance on occasion. Each time I hear one, I know that people just died. A bit unnerving and very sobering. Even at a distance of miles, the blast can still rock our trailers and rattle the windows in our office. I shudder to think what the blast is like just yards away instead of kilometers.
Zarkowi’s video was shown to bolster his position. He is determined to demonstrate that his followers will stop at nothing to obtain purity for their cause. Those who are part of the coalition, those who support the coalition, and those who approve the coalition…all are his targets now. His approved targets now include those of his own country and his own faith. Since his targets do not believe as he does, or else believe it firmly enough, then he regards them as apostate and are now targetable.
The video was then clipped together by a local videographer with shots taken by a news crew at the site of the explosion. The horror of the devastation is difficult to fathom. This was not a Hollywood set where the artists are praised for their makeup and special effects. These were not just bodies in the street. These were parts of bodies; women, children easily recognizable, heaps of bloodied clothing holding smoking remains; the injured sobbing for their loved ones and in agony from their own wounds. These are Zarkowi’s enemies? Enemies of whom? Of what?
What type of person would forfeit his soul like this and disregard all that makes one human to indiscriminately send followers to blow themselves and surrounding innocents in a blast of flame and flesh? What does he hope to achieve? Does he believe that his methods, goals and tactics are honorable?
His goal cannot be to remove the coalition. We are ready to leave and that has been openly announced. As soon as the Iraqi government can provide for the security of its people, we are out of here. His tactic is counterintuitive. To continue his struggle in this way only assures the coalition’s continued presence. He is killing the Iraqi’s at an incredible percentage compared to the coalition.
His only goal that can be surmised must be anarchy and lawlessness. He has no political, economic, religious, social agenda. He cannot be propounding the teachings of Islam. The Koran says that for one to kill his brother is to lose his own soul. He cannot be forwarding a political agenda for he has none other than to return to the decadence of Hussein’s regime. He knows nothing of economic or social determinates. The man is psychotic on many different levels.
His redemption and restoration would be welcome. If that is not forthcoming, then I would agree with one of our combatant commanders. “He needs a dirt nap.”

Close Emotions

One of the unspoken truths here is that many, if not all, of us keep our emotions pretty close to the surface. We’d like to believe that we are tough and rough and nothing gets to us, but I know that is not really the truth. When I ask the right questions, it does not take much to see eyes of our soldiers water up.
There is a 60 second commercial from Anheuser-Busch that was sent to me entitled “The Quiet Commercial.” This is a simple, yet poignant minute that contains spontaneous applause in an airport as soldiers walk through the lobby with a simple ending of “Thank You.”
When I have watched soldiers view the commercial, I am never surprised to see tears trickle down cheeks (at least mine) and there is biting of lip and sniffs or hard blinking. As tough and thick-skinned as we have to be, I am blessed to see that I serve with tender hearted warriors.
I am determined to be careful in chapel services to not allow my prayers for families and friends, for the wounded and the survivors, for those with whom we serve and those who wait for us to become so pointed and directed that rather than healing, the prayers cut too deeply. I know that there are some of my friends that do not attend chapel service because, for them, it is too painful. Singing songs and sharing communion reminds them too much of what they miss at home….the family, the friends, the familiar. As much as they may miss attending church, the pain of the reminder of separation and the loneliness would be too much. Being tender hearted in a war zone has its price.
I have to be careful when I talk to some soldiers. The professional counselor and chaplain in me wants to ask the probing questions and find out “how are you really doing?” But in the wrong situation, I know that the soldiers would be embarrassed or offended if they realized that their emotions were so easily exposed and the raw nerves so simply rubbed. Our thoughts of home and family and relationships and the ones we value are never far from our consciousness.
Many of my contacts are in the Strategic Operations Center, a 24/7 planning and information center where the work never stops and the lights never go out. When I talk to soldiers and officers there, I am careful about what I talk about in front of others. I draw aside the ones that I sense need to talk more deeply and in hushed tones we talk about issues of value. These officers have no where to hide, for this is their life and we share it together. They have no way to walk away, because this is their place of duty and they don’t leave because of their mission. They don’t want to leave, because they have found someone willing to talk to them about what they value as well….
My heart is continually touched and my pride is deepened working with such wonderful people. They miss their homes beyond words and only the deep ache we share is silently understood. Yet they also realize that the work we share, we trust, will bear fruit for generations yet unborn. We trust that the pain will be replaced with rejoicing some day soon….

Bragg-dad

I love getting together with my friends from Bragg. Camp Victory in Baghdad is now referred to as “Bragg-dad” because there are so many there from Ft. Bragg. I was asked to participate in a senior leaders’ conference there this week. I was a presenter on Reunion and Reintegration Issues. Many chaplains have been presenting briefings on Reintegration for months. For some, this is a boring repetition of already done stuff. Surprisingly though, some of the chaplains have never done a reunion briefing for their soldiers. So, this was helpful for them. For the supervisors, I think that I gave them some encouragement to make sure that their subordinates stay on top of the requirements.
One of the nice things was to be introduced by Chaplain Rutherford, the XVIII Airborne Corps Chaplain. I would love to work with this guy again. We could have a great time.
The two days spent at Victory were a breath of fresh air for me. Getting to hang out with my friends was fun. Even dinners were different. Rutherford places himself strategically in the dining facility to make sure that he gets to see as many people as possible. His staff jokes that they tried to move a desk into the dining hall and have his office there, but they could not get the phone lines run…
Our dinner lasted for over 2 hours. During that time we visited with an incredible number of people. Some just stopped by to shake hands, one apologized that he was going to miss mass since he had to return home for his mother’s death….others to thank for providing some type of ministry service to the troops…and on and on….
I slept in the transient tents again, but actually slept well the second night. Flights were fun and getting a trip in a helicopter (especially since the flights only lasted 7 minutes) is always a blast.

Embassy Library

Here is a view of one of the Embassy “libraries.” We have two other book tables in the Embassy as well as MWR library shelves. The one pictured here is right outside the door of the Chaplain’s office.

The library originated as a book table and started growing. I joke that the books are reproducing during the night, because every morning there seem to be more.
Great Americans keep sending books. Some are very good, valuable and quickly snatched up. The unwritten rule is take, read, return, take more….
Unfortunately, when we open some of the boxes that are sent, we can tell these are books taken from someone’s basement or attic that have not been read or seen for a long time. There are some classics, but mostly good for firestarting. I don’t think that there is much call for 8 year old “Daily Bread” or dated Sunday School lessons.
Our main problem is that one of the chaplains here that started the library and ordered the shelves is a pack rat. He believes that there is nothing that should ever be thrown away. Everything is valuable. His desk, his floor, his shelves are all filled with “valuable things.” Some of us have thrown things away only to find him going through the trash and finding them and wondering who would do such a thing. Now, we fill boxes and hide them until he is gone. Then we quickly haul them to the furthest trash dumpster that is out of the way of his normal traffic pattern. That is the only way to get rid of periodicals and devotional books from the 90’s and keep from being crushed by paper.

Sandstorm

Here are a couple of pics of the sandstorm we had last week. The sand just showed up. All aircraft flights were cancelled. I spent 5 hours at the air field waiting for the flights to clear. After the Air traffic controllers finally announced that nothing would fly the rest of the day, I went back to the office.
The first picture is from the front of the Palace on a "normal" day.

The other is from the same spot when the sand is blowing.

The following day was no better. From the beginning of sunrise, all we could see was brown sky. I had a chance to take a convoy to Victory and I hopped aboard, if that is the term one could use. Getting on the convoy involved putting on all my gear and walking about a mile to another assembly area. The temp was about 100 degrees. I thought that we were ready, but there had been an explosion and the routes were closed until the danger was considered over.
We waited two hours and then got loaded up. As we left the compound, one of the vehicles could not shift into high gear, so we pulled over and quickly fixed the problem. Then we were gone. The drive took less than 15 minutes, and was uneventful (thankfully).
I was taken to a dismount area and called for another ride to the office.
My outbound flight was scheduled for 5 p.m. that evening. The sand did not let up all day. I could look out the office windows where we had our meeting and just see “brown.”
By early evening, I had the NCO call to confirm that there were not any flights expected. The only flights planned were at 8:30. I went to the flight terminal in enough time, but the sky was still brown. My flight originated 30 minutes away, and by 8:00 the flight was scrubbed. The next possibility was at midnight show time for a 0100 flight. I hiked back to the office and visited some friends for a couple of hours until they had to get some sleep. I hiked back to the terminal about 1000. What I did not realize was that I was getting more and more dehydrated as I walked outside. I was not drinking enough water and was not paying attention. By 1030, the night was covered by a clear, starry night. I was convinced we would fly.
The flight came in on time and I boarded at 0110. The flight was only 7 minutes, but took eight hours to get it done. I arrived back at the Palace helipad and walked back to my office. I dropped my gear, went back to the hooch and went to sleep.
Dehydration can be cumulative. I did not drink that much the next day and the following morning, I had a terrible headache, felt bad, and went back to bed. I started rehydrating when my head hurt. That is my own sign of dehydration since I very seldom get headaches for any other reason. It took a day and a half to get fully rehydrated. The sand lifted two days later.

We have no heroes

The Iraqi people continue to amaze me with their insight, diligence and determination. Last week I spoke with a woman who left her home in a distant province to move to Baghdad.
“Why did you move?” “Only in Baghdad can you make a difference” she replied. The belief is that the seat of power for the country is in Baghdad and to make any significant changes in the society or culture or government, one must be at the seat of power.
“Our country has known nothing except corruption for the last 35 years. Our leaders know nothing else. Everything in our society is based upon power and corruption.”
As we continued to talk, she explained more and we had a very interesting dialogue about our differing cultures.
She explained what she meant about power and corruption. When Saddam Hussein assumed power, he began a regime of corruption. Kickbacks and payola became a way of life. The concept of public service and service for the greater good fell out of the public consciousness. “What can I get for me?” became the byword of the administration. Positions of power were merely positions. There was not a mandate for performance, only a desire for position. From what many have told me about some of the leadership positions, the job only involved “holding the job.” Visiting others in positions of power and drinking coffee and smoking around the hookah pipe was all that was expected of powerful people. Actually providing any public service was not a pressing consideration. If any public service was conducted, that happened at lower levels and only after extreme pressure was applied from higher ups.
After 35 years of corruption, there is not a template for public service.
The maxim continued to prove true: “Power corrupts. Total power corrupts totally.” Those in power became more and more corrupt as their power increased. The whole purpose in being in power was to stay in power and enjoy the powerful position.
Now lay a 35 year template on the country. Anyone younger than 50 years of age has no real recollection of any type of governing leadership that was not corrupt (assuming that 15 year olds paid attention to government anyway). Citizens who are over 50 either had to accept the way that government ran or not be a part of it. (Those who resisted the status quo are not around anymore).
One of her interesting remarks was that they have no heroes to admire or to emulate. There is no Nathan Hale who regretted that he had but one life to give for his country. There is no one to admire who said, “Give me liberty or give me death.” All the leaders that these people know were the ones who kidnapped their 14 year old daughters and murdered them, or who were involved in kickbacks and corruption.
It is no surprise to us to see that there are missing millions of dollars of our U.S. contract money and shoddy work being done on public works projects. If we don’t participate in payola, then why should the work be good?
I asked her a question that she could have found offensive. “Why are you not corrupt?”
“I decided that the children need better. I have decided that I would move to Baghdad for the sake of the children.”
“Are you married with children?”
“No, I am single. I care about the children of the next generation of our country. They need to know what true freedom is about and how to live without fear and corruption.”

I look forward to meeting more like her in the future.

Sorry for the delays

Sorry that I have not posted recently.
I would like to say that I have been very busy, but those of you who know me, know better.
I have been distracted, and at times disinterested, and just didn't get around to typing.
I have been thinking about what to write, so hopefully, the writing will be worth it rather than mere ramblings.

Much has been happening in Iraq and in Baghdad in particular.
Bombings, kidnappings, 125 degree weather, I moved offices, lost email for a week, etc.

Attending the Battle Updates each morning and the Strategic Operations Update each morning and then reading all the editorials and articles has been quite a contrast. I will write more of that in the coming days.
Are we winning?
How long will it take?
When do we leave?

All good questions that beg for good answers. Wish that I had some good answers. I do have some perspective and those who know me personally, know that I have opinions about everything.

Talk to you soon.

Task, Conditions and Standards

Everthing in the military is done to specified standards.
The military members must know and understand the task at hand that must be accomplished.
To accomplish effective training, the trainer is provided with certain conditions (tools, equipment, personnel, environment, etc.) a task to be completed and the standard to which the task must meet to be successful.
Here is one of my favorite signs that was hung with tongue in cheek to make sure that the soldiers remember to close the outside door to the building.

If the door is left open, there is "remedial training" available!

Sandbag cozies

As part of a recent briefing, the shipping lading included one and half million sand bags for a new outpost. That’s a lot of sandbags! That is also a lot of time spent filling and stacking sandbags. Sandbags are a way of life. There are sandbag walls everywhere. The walls are easier and quicker to build than concrete walls. Window ledges are piled with sandbags in certain areas to keep bullets or shrapnel from puncturing through to the indoors. Soldiers here are routinely assigned to “sandbag detail.” The duty usually involves supervising hired nationals who do the actual filling and stacking of the sandbags.
One of the problems with the hot, direct sun is that the sunrays cause the sandbags to deteriorate over time. Usual lifespan of a sandbag in the open is about a year. After that, the wall has to be torn down and the sand rebagged and restacked. Very labor intensive for the workers.

A solution that someone developed is to design and make sandbag covers. These covers are made from high density plastic tarp that can be formfitted, sewn to fit and then placed over the entire wall of sandbags. These “sandbag cozies” help delay the deterioration of the bags and keeps the walls standing longer.
The next step in beautification is that there are now crews of nationals hired with buckets of water, brooms and mops who spend their days cleaning the cozies. One crew has even scored a portable powerwasher to help keep up with volume of work. Ingenuity at its best.

Behind the T-walls

Concrete barriers are a way of life in Baghdad. They have sprouted up everywhere.

The wall is five feet long, a couple of feet thick and can range from eight to twelve feet high. The walls surround EVERYTHING! The NY Times this morning even ran an article on the T-walls. They reported the wall just around the American "seat of power" is a circumfrence 10 miles long.
This is not just a coalition or US military thing, this is a universal "save your life" phenomenon. When the Iraqi government fell and security became everyone's primary concern, the T-walls started going up. The asking price for a 10' wall was $1000. The price has moderated to a mere $600 and some prices are negotiable. At the height of the T-wall demand, there was not enough concrete available to assist the Iraqi government in rebuilding the infrastructure. All the concrete suppliers were busy filling the demand of private home owners and governments. Any landowners or homeowners that could afford T-walls bought them. T-walls ringed the property. The walls are strong enough to withstand mortar attacks and rockets as well as small arms fire. The walls can be interlocked and prove inpenetratable to all but the most determined assault. There are literally millions of them in Baghdad. When homeowners started ringing their property, they would place the walls at the edge of the street. The neighbor across the street did the same and suddenly a two lane road becomes a one lane passage. Traffic patterns are disrupted. Shops and businesses are not easily accessible and whole shopping district traffic patterns have been altered. Safety has taken priority over business for many. To get an idea of the magnitude of the building and the price, take a while and step off the front of your property or building. Every five feet, add $1000 to your total. Go from the front to the back around the property line, and then again just to ring the building. (Double walls are all the rage). Now walk the street. Go to the end of the block and visualize walls on both sides of the street as far as you can see. At each corner the walls continue for as far as you can see. Don't forget to multiply by $1000 for each five feet of linear property. Now figure the price of a major downtown like Baghdad.
Now the walls are becoming more permanent. Workers are installing lights along the sides and some are being painted to match the surroundings (sand colored!)
I wonder what will happen to all the walls when the walls come down? How to dispose of millions of cubic yards of concrete walls when they are no longer needed? There is a great opportunity for some creative entrepreneur if someone can figure it out. I think that the walls would make a great lining for the Tigris and Euphrates rivers, like the St. Louis wall along the Mississippi....
Opportunity knocks.

T-walls as Art

Some units have "designated" T-walls to mark their time in theater. As units come and go in different locales, they leave their mark for others that follow. These walls are actually "blast walls" designed to protect buildings.

Reading the Casualty List

Reading the Casualty List
June 27, 2005

I stood at the window of the second story office and watched the Humvees drive in from escort duty. The MP units provide security and escort for many of the officers needing to shuttle around the area. I love watching convoys and the gun trucks as they pull in. I imagine that the ritual of dismounting is the same as it has been since horses were ridden by knights of old: Remove the helmet, stretch the neck. Take off the armor, clamber down. Stretch the arms and flex the shoulders. Then the soldiers gather at the front of one of the Hummers and talk, joke and smoke and just hang out until someone gives them instructions. Today’s group was different. As the soldiers pulled off their helmets, I noticed their hair pulled back and fixed in a tight bun. When the gloves were removed, their hands were not as large and rough as others I had watched. These were the female MP’s running the convoys that I had read about. Each of the four top gunners and three of the drivers were female soldiers. There had been an article about them in both the Stars and Stripes newspaper as well as our own theater paper, The Scimitar. Well written, good article that acknowledged the quality of soldiers that these folks are.
Yesterday I read the Casualty Report. I try to skim the list every day to stay situationally aware and look for trends or units in my area that may need to have their chaplain be reinforced or encouraged. The names of the previous day’s KIA’s are listed in red on the roster. As I scanned through the list, there were the names from the previous day. It is hard not to notice the obvious female names. The names were all listed along with the males who had been killed in the IED explosions that tore through their convoy. I sat in the briefing the evening before when the attack was described. Gender nor branch nor service is noted; only killed and wounded by number. Searching deeper gives more of the details and of course, CNN and FOX were sure to talk at length about the incident. The newspapers covered the event of the deaths, especially since the reporters had pictures of some of the women doing their jobs in an earlier interview.
What will become of the handwringing? Is a daughter’s death more difficult for a parent to handle than a son’s? Is there more value in a daughter than a son? Should women be regarded as “protected property” in our society? There are so very many culturally ingrained views to be addressed before we start seeing too many body bags brought home with women in them. (We still “give our daughters away” to a man during a wedding ceremony. An archaic custom that bothers me, but I cannot get any women to agree with deleting that when I perform their wedding).
Can women do the job in a combat zone? Absolutely. They are mentally, psychologically and emotionally capable of accepting any mission demanded of them. The only concern, fully and duly noted, is the physical limitations; and, yet, there are many men that are unable to meet those same demands. Convoy ops, Traffic Control Points, Cordon and Search; all areas that women can perform. Hauling a heavy rucksack over difficult terrain and distance is a struggle for any soldier, and if a woman cannot do it, she will wash out in the training phase, the same as a guy will.
Two of our deeply ingrained culturally protected values are: the virility of our men and the virtue of our women. Men will fight to protect either or both of those values. When we try and combine virtuous women in a virile atmosphere of combat, men have difficulty wrapping their minds around that concept. Some have been taught and trained to protect the women and children…and now there is a woman in the gunner’s seat beside them? How do we protect one who is protecting us?
I don’t have answers to the anthropological questions. I just find it interesting that men my age (legislators) are trying to determine what should be done with younger men and women whose very livelihoods and living (and dying) depend upon their decisions.

Register your Blog

My good buddy, Dave Meyer, alerted me to an article published this week in Army Times. I went on line and read the article. There is a mandate to register all Blogs with the command if they are written by a member of the Multi-National Corps-Iraq. Evidently the guidance has been in effect for quite a few months, but this is the first I have heard of it. The Army Times article spoke of the freedom of expression, etc. and there were some bloggers who admitted they would not identify themselves nor register their blog. That could be trouble. In the words of a great movie (that I cannot remember), "we are here to instill democracy, not practice it." In a war zone, there are considerations for security and safety that supercede even the first amendment.
I am part of a different command and as far as I know, I am not required to register my blog. I am willing to do so, for security's sake, if asked to. I have asked members of the security detail to review some of my postings before I published and was assured that I was within the boundaries. One concern is the timing of postings. I have gone so far as to hold publishing until I can verify certain incidents from "open sources" i.e. newspapers, emails, etc that are available to the general public. That way I am assured that any "insider" knowledge I may have of an event is already general knowledge through the media.
I am open to anyone reading this who has input or suggestions if they think that I have jeopardized any OPSEC issues.
Let me know.

been sick

So sorry to miss writing on the blog for the last week. I have been fighting the Baghdad Crud in my lungs for the last week. I got some meds from the clinic (after denying there was any problem for a week). The medic said that the antihistamine would make me a bit sleepy, but I should still be able to work. She was wrong. The meds knocked me out. I am down to ½ dosage at night and none during the day so that I can function at a minimum level. Naps in the afternoon and early to bed have been my remedy. I am much improved.
Have had lots going on this past week and will update shortly.
Thank you for the concerns and questions.