Still In Germany

Thursday, 2007 February 15, 1205 UTC +0300

The complications involved in moving 150 troops half way around the world are quickly becoming evident.

Our initial flight plan from last week had us going through Incirlik Air Base, Turkey. However our airline, Omni Air International (who the hell are these guys?) has recently had some political complaints with Turkish air regulations, so we were rerouted through Cyprus. Unfortunately, The air field through which we planned on traveling has "quiet hours", providing a narrow window in which our aircraft could stop, continue to Qatar, and then stop again in Cyprus on the way back to Germany. When a troop's firearm went missing at the Ramstein Air Base terminal, our flight was delayed, which made the next window some 21 hours later. This was all learned after sitting on the plane for an hour and a half.

We file off the plane amid great confusion, to find out that because the Ramstein terminal is not open overnight, we'll be loading everyone onto buses and riding to Frankfurt, some 2.5 hours away. This is great for the government since the contract with Omni requires that accommodations be made for all of us at no cost. However, because we'll be leaving base, we have to go through everyone's luggage, and get all the weapons into the armory before we can even get on the bus. It took over an hour to unload everyone's (400 or so) bags, which all looked basically the same. More confusion ensued. It also didn't help that the Ramstein armory had only one person at the service counter, and that we were all standing in line with dozens of weapons at exactly the same time that thirty or so military police arrived (and had priority) for a personnel changeover. We initially boarded our flight at 1530 that afternoon, but did not leave Ramstein until 2130.

It was pouring rain in the Ramstein/Frankfurt area last night, which made for a dreary ride into the city. We couldn't see anything and hadn't had an opportunity to eat a substantive meal since Baltimore the previous evening. The bus driver wasn't having much luck either--she didn't speak a word of English, but I certainly understood what was going on when we rode around in a couple of circles and she would get on her cell: grumbling in German, "Scheisse!", more grumbling in German.

We arrived in Frankfurt at 0030 that night at the Hotel Intercontinental, to find that they had kept the buffet open for us. (The first bus load had arrived some three hours prior with all the troops that were not deploying with weapons.) Finally we eat! Real fancy stuff, with waitstaff in tuxes that would politely thank you for allowing them to fill your water. The rooms were no less inviting--probably the nicest hotel I've occupied. I finally got up to my room at about 0130, and breakfast was scheduled for 0530 the following morning, so I didn't get a chance to make much of our $200+ accommodations. The brevity of our stay wasn't really a big deal though; I was only able to sleep for about an hour.

I'm now back in the terminal at Ramstein, awaiting the boarding call for our new flight to Cyprus. We'll get there eventually, I have no doubt.

In Qatar

Saturday, 2007 February 17, 0051 UTC +0300

It's dark here all the time.

We left Cyprus just after sunset, so we didn't get into Qatar until shortly before midnight. It was a clear night for our descent, but instead of seeing grids of street lights and office buildings, there are only red-orange specks fading off into the horizon; a tainted reflection of the starry sky. These are oil wells, many of them with flames a hundred feet in the air.

We were originally scheduled to depart for Baghdad early the following morning, however once again experienced delays and will leave almost a full day later. I'm awake long enough to see a breathtaking Qatari sunrise. At night, one can't really appreciate the stark climate (operational military compounds tend to be such, regardless of the surrounding area), however with the sun comes visibility of stark white desolation as far as the eye can see. It's a no-camera zone, or I'd have some photos for you.

Meals lose significance. The dining facility is open 24 hours per day, and we have eaten five or six meals since waking in Frankfurt. What's the meal after dinner called? I don't know; dinner was at 0200 anyway.

There is transient lodging available--a couple of tents outside the corrugated aluminum airport terminal: each contains rows of cots, cheap mattresses, and a smattering of pillows, bedsheets, and blankets. A single dim light bulb dangles by it's own wire from the rafters, quivering at the sounding of cargo jet engines. Once word got out of our delay, it was time to do a face plant; I'd been up for 24 hours. I awakened ten hours later, once again in darkness.

Am I on the moon?

In Baghdad, Part I

Saturday, 2007 February 17, 1011 UTC +0300

Ummm... Yeah.

In Baghdad, Part II

Saturday, 2007 February 17, 1043 UTC +0300

I ended up on a C-17 into Baghdad International Airport (BIAP), which is far preferable to the usual C-130, from what I hear. I'd never been on a military aircraft, which was an unique experience. It felt like riding in the back of a dump truck, except louder.

Our arrival was less memorable than I expected. We were all suited up in our kevlar vests and helmets, which somehow made me expect to be running behind barricades with bullets flying overhead, etc. I won't go into detail of the events of the morning, but please trust me when I suggest they were quite mundane.

We were fortunate to just miss a significant rainstorm, however the rains left Camp Sather (at BIAP) thoroughly covered in mud. This is not mud like we have in the 'States. It's like walking in paste--it's thick and stringy, and has the adhesive ability to make even large rocks stick to your boots. You can't scrape it off, it's everywhere, and even when you go indoors, you walk an inch taller because of this gluey wad of rocks on the bottom of your boots. Buildings are swept hourly because this stuff invariably gets tracked everywhere. Hopefully the IZ will have better paths and roads.

I won't be at BIAP much longer, if everything goes as planned (a pretty big "if", if you've been following along). Tonight I should be able to sleep in what will be my bed for the next six months.

My New Home

Sunday, 2007 February 18, 2315 UTC +0300

I'm finally settled in Baghdad, and about to spend a second night in my own bed. My room is basically in a trailer that has two double rooms (bunk beds) and a shared bathroom. We have hot water, air conditioning, and internet access. It's a little cramped, but is quite adequate.

In my same complex, there is a 24-hour gym, a laundry drop-off, a convenience store, and a helicopter pad. The helicopters are loud, but you get used to them since they are more often than not flying within hearing range. There's also a B-1 that has been zipping around--for what purpose, I have no idea.

More bothersome than any of the aircraft are the alarms that occasionally sound and calmly announce, "INCOMING", over a loudspeaker. This is some sort of detection system that gives us as much warning as possible of mortar or firearm attacks. I have no idea how this works, or how reliable it is, but we are told that it gives us just enough time to get into our body armor and assume a protected position. The alarms are all for more vulnerable areas though, so we don't have one immediately in my area. Aside from the smoke in the background of my profile photo, I have yet to see any violence of immediate concern.

My New Job

Tuesday, 2007 February 20, 2111 UTC +0300

I think most people have a perception of our military presence in Baghdad as either/both violent or/and authoritative. This is true to some extent, however there is a section of the US military that provides support and guidance to the Iraqi government and military. This section is much larger than most people realize. We often hear about the "cost of the war". This money doesn't simply go toward tanks, bombs, bullets, food, water--a great amount of money goes into building Iraqi infrastructure. This is where I come in.

One of the initiatives of the Department of Defense is to build Iraqi military and police forces. Most of the Iraqi military and police have non-functional, outdated, or otherwise inadequate equipment. My organization's responsibility is to provide equipment to both the military and police, from items as simple as socks to items as complex as mobile communication centers. My job, in particular, is to examine the needs (requirements) of the Iraqi police and military (as established by an affiliated "planning" organization), purchase vehicles that will meet those needs, and oversee the delivery of the purchased vehicles. This includes everything from your basic pickup truck, to fuel tankers, forklifts, excavators, etc.

I do have a great deal of oversight--every decision I make must receive concurrence from ten or so different people, all the way up to the commanding general. Nonetheless, this is still a pretty cool job for someone as young as myself. On my first day on the job, I wrote a purchase request for $26M worth of armored personnel carriers. One common estimate states that the Iraq War costs the United States $2B per week (on average). If that day were an average one overall, then on that day I committed over 9% of the entire Iraq War budget.

Getting Around In The Green Zone

Friday, 2007 February 23, 1113 UTC +0300

The Baghdad International Zone (Green Zone) is an interesting place in which to get around. The area as a whole is considered secure, however there are also smaller sub-sections that have their own additional security. Any time we are outside any of the various bases, we're required to travel in pairs, wear body armor, and carry a weapon.

This segmentation of the Green Zone makes for an awful lot of walls. They're maybe five meters high and bear large spirals of razor wire. Were it not for these walls, the Green Zone might feel like a normal city, however it is now jammed with redundant barriers, sand bags, check points, etc. Some streets are just wide enough to accomodate a car, and walkways now feel like crawlspaces.

The Rhino

Baghdad also has a vehicle which, to my knowledge, is completely unique and custom-built for our particular environment. It may have a proper name, however it's affectionately called the "Rhino", a name which must have been planned by the manufacturer when you observe the metallic plate at the nose of the vehicle (open the image in a new window to enlarge). This thing could take a pretty severe beating--and has, from what I hear. Those windows in the side must be about four inches thick, and the rest is steel plate. With seating for a dozen or so troops, this is the primary means of transit out of the Green Zone.

It's Easy To Forget

Monday, 2007 February 26, 2131 UTC +0300

It's easy to forget what's going on outside of the Green Zone, that I'm in Baghdad, a warzone. In our compound, we have a barber shop, gym, dining facility (DFAC (pronounced dee-fack)--you're right, it's not an acronym, just like SECDEF (Secretary of Defense) and OPSEC (Operation Security)--the military astounds me sometimes), janitorial staff, basically everything we expect of home. The weather couldn't be more pleasant. Every day the sun is out and the high is about 20ºC with a gentle breeze. Sometimes I see the palm trees and imagine that I'm at a resort.

Then I'll be rudely jerked back to the real world, where this evening the entire office was smoked out of the building by a couple tons of burning rubbish a few blocks upwind. Don't take waste management for granted, Americans! Fortunately, we'd been at the office for 13 hours by then, so the day wasn't a complete waste. Some other subtle reminders that I'm not the United States: gunshots, mortars, sirens, razor wire, body armor, tanks.

Nighttime Hoops

We also have a basketball league among the various bases in the Green Zone. If you know me at all well, you know that I'm generally disinterested in sports. Nonetheless, sitting on a picnic bench, watching a rowdy bunch of uniformed amateurs engage in one of the Western World's more popular diversions put me at great ease. Last night was the championship, and we (Phoenix Base) were victorious against Blackwater, 44 to 35. That's five championships in a row for us--I suspect there are some demographical reasons behind this.

I know some of you are just itching to send me a bunch of stuff I don't need. I've always assured everyone that I don't want any care packages, but I'd now like to revoke that claim. We could really use some decent coffee--all they have at the PX is Folger's. Nothing fancy, mind you, though we do have a coffee grinder so whole beans are best. Contact my folks or my supervisor (or me) for an address.

Crossed Swords

Friday, 2007 March 2, 2232 UTC +0300

These photos are a couple weeks old now (Gads, have I been here two weeks already? Almost.), but they're worth talking about. One of the few remaining tributes to the Saddam Hussein era is the "Crossed Swords" Parade Ground. Named such for the enormous archways at each entrance, it also consists of an 80-or-so meter wide asphalt path that passes by an amphitheater where Saddam and various dignitaries might sit in review. Perhaps you recall footage of him standing before a crowd, firing a shotgun into the air... This is where that footage was taken, or so I've been told.

Crossed Swords Amphitheatre

Iraqi authorities are eager to rid the country of Saddam's legacy, thus they have recently proposed destroying the Crossed Swords arches. Notice the crane in the background of my profile photo. Word of their scheduled destruction got out and flocks of military personnel came to have a look around and take photos while they still could. Perhaps this prompted the notion among Iraqis that the site may some day be valuable as a tourist trap--destruction has since been postponed.

A great deal of work will need to be done if they choose to keep the place around though. Notice that the amphitheater has been looted, windows smashed, even some of the building materials have been scavenged (open the image in a new window to enlarge). We may be doing a great deal to get the Iraqi Government on its feet, but they'll have far more to overcome when they assume full financial responsibility for the country, and have the renovation of a battered city to manage.

Things I Miss

Saturday, 2007 March 3, 2249 UTC +0300

Things I miss about the United States:

Beer
Free time
Grass
Dating
Pillow-top mattresses
Having keys to my front door (That one's a long story for another day.)
Not having to carry a firearm everywhere I go (even breakfast)

Things I don't miss about the United States:

Spending money
Possessions that I don't use or serve no purpose
Driving
Chronic dissatisfaction with my wardrobe

The list of things I miss is longer. :(

That's all I have for tonight, folks. Rest assured, I have other more pensive and consequential thoughts brewing.

Culture Can Indeed Be Palletized

Thursday, 2007 March 8, 2336 UTC +0300

I'm still in the United States. I came to this realization while discussing the Army Post Office with a friend of mine. Examining the structure of this postal system, it is implied that there are three additional states serving deployed locations. Phone services have similar connections to the homeland. When I dial a United States phone number from my office phone, the area code that is shown on the recipient's phone is a that of Virginia (the Pentagon).

If one were to imagine the geographical shape of these states, they would have to be three-dimensional. Just like islands are spots of land that occasionally poke up above the water, I like to think of the United States as a large body that extends deep below the surface of the Earth and pokes up in various places all around the globe. I wonder how much of the Earth's core we control.

I'm culturally still in the United States as well. The dining facility serves all manner of fried American classics, onion rings, fries, wings, jalapeño poppers, mozzarella sticks, etc., plus has a second line that serves a narrow variety of entrées like meatloaf, pot pies, lasagna. The cooks and servers are all local workers, and they don't have the slightest idea how to prepare these things, thus we ship mountains of semi-prepared food that can be easily warmed and served, and remain true to their original American inception. Or occasionally they'll serve Chinese food, something neither Iraqis nor Americans know how to make.

The dining facility itself borrows from the more dolorous aspects of America. The tablecloths are all floral print, only in the most un-offensive pastels, upon which sits a doily and a bouqet of plastic flowers. The chairs are all stackable with bronze-colored metal frames, just like you might see at a convention center or cheap hotel. I feel like I'm in a decidedly American church where everyone gets dressed up in their suit and tie or floral-print lace-trimmed dresses and sits around on the flimsiest folding chairs and tables. Either that or I'm in a retirement home.

Route Irish

Tuesday, 2007 March 13, 2235 UTC +0300

Mention of this ill-renowned road stirs countless painful memories among a good portion of the military population. This is the primary thoroughfare for transportation between BIAP and the International Zone. You've probably seen footage of it on the television.

Me and my M4 Carbine

I'd like to think that Route Irish is a bit safer now, but I also credit seeing nothing of concern along the way to having only been on it three times. Still, it's hard for me to imagine anyone launching a serious attack against one of our convoys on this road. One would need a great deal of firepower to pose a serious threat to one of our armored HMMWV's, and IED's are much less a threat on well-traveled routes now that we have warlocks and route-clearing teams. We also have walls around a good portion of it, making it difficult for people to fire on vehicles from the outside.

Every car on the road is considered a potential threat. Most Iraqis know by now to pull over when they see a convoy, but those that don't quickly seize the full attention of the convoy drivers and gunners. Precise guidelines are exercised for the escalation of force against other vehicles. Understand that you simply can't allow another vehicle to break into the middle of the convoy. If this vehicle blocks the latter half of the convoy, your ability to defend yourself is severely reduced. Or that vehicle may carry explosives. The convoy never stops. Jumping curbs and "swimming upstream" are common solutions to traffic jams.

I was very impressed by how professional the convoy personnel were. We all had headsets and microphones so we could easily communicate to others in our vehicle, and could hear what was going on across the whole network of vehicles. The team that travels in and out of the IZ is probably fairly experienced, since I imagine they often work with some of the more political personnel in Baghdad, but I'm sure that their training and execution of the mission is not terribly different from convoy units elsewhere. They truly made a daunting task far more bearable, and even enjoyable to some degree.

This experience also made me consider what it's like to be a police officer. In a way, that's what we're doing over here anyway. I've often found the police to be intrusive and unfeeling, but I understand this behavior now--imagine how different you would behave if you had to consider every person as a potential assailant. Police really do get shot at, even if you haven't seen it yourself.

I'm learning an incredible amount about things that I never considered before. The government and military are like a huge black box for many people, and it's no wonder that they are treated with a degree of skepticism. As complex as it may seem from the outside, it's utterly mind-blowing working on the inside. It's like when you look at the moon and truly consider just how big those craters really are. The fact that we as a country have accomplished so much really speaks for the character and ideals of most Americans.

That's what this deployment is really about for me. I could never understand how it could take so long for a military power such as ours to secure and organize a society like we are doing here. There are so many things I never considered. My piece of the puzzle is just a small one and yet is every bit as critical as the other thousand things that need to fall into place. If the Iraqi military and police forces are to be successful, they're going to need armored vehicles, cargo trucks, tow trucks, fuel tankers, forklifts, cranes, and of course it takes a couple years to get tens of thousands of these vehicles negotiated, purchased, manufactured, shipped, accounted for, and distributed. Duh.

It's The Little Things

Saturday, 2007 March 17, 2201 UTC +0300

I go to work at 0800 every day (Fridays and Sundays at 1000). I leave work at 2000 every day (sometimes even later). I run four miles every day, lift some weights, eat three square meals, and spend the rest of my waking hours fighting my abhorrent internet connection to take care of random personal matters. Saturdays and Sundays are unique only in that I can't telephone my contracting partners back in the United States.

Without memories, we don't have any sense of the passage of time--there is no vector, only a location. My memory for today will be that the dining facility switched their jalapeño poppers from cream cheese to cheddar. Cheddar cheese is truly far superior in this medium. Without that memory, I would wake up tomorrow and it would still be today. Even the little things give us something to hold on to. Sometimes that is all we need.

Yikes!

Monday, 2007 March 19, 2340 UTC +0300

Sheesh, I didn't mean to freak everyone out. Yes, that last post was maybe a bit depressing, but I was just feeling exhausted and I'm really fine! I appreciate your concern.

Thank You!

Tuesday, 2007 March 20, 2157 UTC +0300

Yes, here we all are, the coffee drinkers of J-4 upstairs. Most of us, anyway. I know a lot of you have sent care packages, but I wanted to post a special note of appreciation to JP and his co-workers (none of whom know me) who were kind enough to pool some money for all the goods you see pictured here. We all appreciate it--thank you!

Oh, and yes, I am sporting a ridiculous mustache lately. It would not be March without a mustache.

The Cost Of The War

Sunday, 2007 March 25, 2337 UTC +0300

We often hear about "the cost of the war", whether it be measured in dollars or in lives. Maybe we hear about how President Bush wants to spend another 10 billion dollars in Iraq, or maybe about how we just lost 50 more troops in some particular month, and it doesn't really matter what these numbers are because most Americans have little perspective on what it really means to spend 20 billion dollars or to be killed.

There is a great deal going on over here that I know nothing about. In particular, there has been an increase in bombings around Baghdad the last day or two. I can hear them off in the distance and I'm not overly concerned, since this is all taking place a couple kilometers away and my particular location isn't a very interesting target.

I do know about how some of these "costs" are incurred though. I've discussed how my office is spending money to equip Iraqi Security Forces. There are lives lost in this process as well, and it's worthwhile to understand how these casualties are occurring.

Everything we purchase must be moved. While we try to purchase as much as we can through local vendors, many items must be brought in through sea or air ports, or driven across the border from neighboring countries. How is this done? You can't simply drive a BREM down the highway. Vehicles of this sort must be loaded onto a heavy trailer and driven in as large a group as can be safely protected by an armed escort. The problem here is that this sort of movement is an obvious target, especially when there's nothing but sand as far as you can see.

People are killed on these missions. At first, it seemed lamentably frivolous to die while trying to move a water tanker from Iraq's central depot to one of the regionally-distributed units. But upon further consideration, this mission bears military necessity just like any other. The Iraqi military cannot operate without the ability to move large volumes of water; therefore any lives lost in moving water tankers may as well be lives lost in the military operations that are made possible by these water tankers. That's how I look at it anyway.

There's no doubt that we have troops breaking down doors and engaging enemies in populated areas. People are killed doing this as well. Depending on your general opinions about the war, you may see this as an inappropriate way to risk the lives of our loved ones. But this is not necessarily the norm, as I suspect many observers presume. Perhaps being killed trying to bring water to a poverty-stricken community is a more noble act?

My Bus Stop

Monday, 2007 March 26, 0049 UTC +0300

Here is where I wait for the bus every morning. I think this is a very fine place to stand.

Mustache March!

Saturday, 2007 March 31, 2121 UTC +0300

It's now no longer March, and the mustache will be gone shortly. Here's the best I was able to muster in a month's time:

The Cost Of The War, Part II

Sunday, 2007 April 1, 0040 UTC +0300

I (intentionally) left a key element out of my last entry on the cost of the war. One of my initial assumptions when I first started learning about armed vehicle convoys was that the US military is accomplishing these missions. Not so! The teams moving these convoys are private organizations, largely consisting of veteran expatriates. They're trained every bit as well as our troops, have communications technology that probably surpasses any of our own (pure speculation here), and have seen situations grizzlier than most.

Contractors are taking over the American war zone. Jobs that were exclusively military responsibilities in previous engagements are now managed by companies like Halliburton, KBR, etc. They organize housing, manage construction projects, cook, clean... you name it. Taking this into consideration, American "troop" strength is probably twice all the manpower figures that you hear. What is the military even for anymore? There's certainly nothing about my job that necessitates military training.

We're also paying far more for their support than we'd ever give to our troops. Does this make sense? To some extent this is necessary, because our military is already stretched thin. If the US Government is willing to pay five times the average troop's salary for a contractor, why don't they just pay their troops more? They would certainly have an easier time recruiting for the Army if wages doubled.

The real issue, as I see it, is that this creates a problematic double-standard. In the military, we're persuaded that fighting for our country is about honor and discipline and serving the greater good of the American people. Or if you'd rather not join the military, it can be about making a ton of cash. Some day, honor and country will no longer be enough.

The Cost Of The War, Final Part

Tuesday, 2007 April 3, 2321 UTC +0300

Here's an interesting account of what contractor convoy personnel go through.

It's funny, I sit behind my desk and type a bunch of stuff into spreadsheets and fill out paperwork, but I never see any of these vehicles, except on the rare occasion that they are being delivered to the IZ. My job feels almost completely imagined, but the above journal is so accurate to my own understanding of vehicle distribution, that I feel like my work thus far has been substantiated. If it's on the web it must be true!

So It's Not Just My Imagination...

Thursday, 2007 April 12, 2324 UTC +0300

My job primarily involves sitting at a computer poring over spreadsheets. However, I do once in a while get out from behind my desk to interact with the procurement and logistics world more directly. Three weeks ago, I got to meet up with the supplier of the REVA here in the IZ.

REVA

We got to climb all over and ride around in one of these things. They ride pretty rough, but if you're being shot at you probably wouldn't care.

They also don't operate as much like a conventional car as I expected. Special military needs require that many parts of the vehicle function independently. To get this thing to move, you have to flip a bunch of switches, turn cranks, etc., in a prescribed manner. This is becoming problematic in the field, because misuse will often land a vehicle at the maintenance depot. Aside from repair time, malfunction may cost the user weeks because of the complexity of moving the vehicle across the country to a location where it can be repaired (see "The Cost Of The War" series). Will Iraqi forces be able to successfully utilize such an asset once we are no longer here to manage this logistical ordeal?

I rode out to this event with CDR Murphy-Sweet, one of our contracting personnel. The last time I saw him was a couple weeks ago, to congratulate him on his new assignment and to wish him luck. The military has a rather poor habit of praising every troop as though they possess inexhaustible moral fortitude and act with the force of God. I prefer to simply acknowledge greatness where it exists, and remain mute where it is lacking. CDR Murphy-Sweet was a good man.

Weather In Baghdad

Friday, 2007 April 20, 1134 UTC +0300

I've never lived any place so inhospitable. Granted, most days are quite pleasant, even as the temperatures are approaching 40ºC, but some days are nearly unbearable.

Haze of the sort shown in the first photo is not unusual. The air is pretty bad here, but this kind of opacity can only be caused by dust being kicked up in the air by an unusually strong breeze from the north.

Dust storms are an entirely different beast than above. In the photo below, we're just about to get hit with a pretty bad one. You walk around in it because you have to, but it feels like you're getting your face shoved straight into a vacuum bag. Your mouth is closed, but you can taste it anyway; your eyes develop a thin crust of dust and tears; your nose is backed up for days.

This one below is my favorite. When you have high winds and high humidity, the dust will get picked up and absorbed into rain clouds. Everything turns orange. This photo was taken at around 0900 one morning. Note that all of the automatic street lights are on. I had the flash turned on by accident, but I actually like the sparkling of the mud drops.

Yes, I'm Still Alive

Friday, 2007 May 4, 1057 UTC +0300

It's been a long time I know, and I must be brief. Our personal internet access has been down for a week now, my work computer will not allow me to access this blog, and the internet cafe in which I'm currently seated is only convenient once a week on my morning off. I have no idea when we'll get access in my trailer again, so blog posts may become quite sparse.

No, I Haven't Been Shut Down

Tuesday, 2007 May 22, 1008 UTC +0300

Many of you, my loyal readers, have written me wondering if I've been shut down. The answer is no--my issues with writing are simply that for the moment, my only internet access is at my office. The computers at work block all sorts of recreational websites including blogger.com. Until the internet is repaired at my trailer, my only access is at this internet cafe here, and there is currently a line of people waiting behind me. No, this has nothing to do with me violating the UCMJ, nor is it a vendetta by the leadership here against communication with friends and family.

Frankly, I don't disagree with the military's attack on bloggers. Far too many have been careless with posting of information, without even realizing how sensitive that information could be. I've been very thoughtful about what I say and don't say, but even so, if I am never again able to routinely post here, it may be for the best.

Consider this: When our enemies lob a couple of mortars over the wall of a military installation somewhere, they often don't know what they're aiming at. A simple report that the dining hall (for example) was hit with a mortar would give them invaluable information about how to attack us in the future. Of course, few bloggers are nearly so adept at spreading this sort of information as CNN.

Fun Times

Saturday, 2007 May 26, 2234 UTC +0300

At work, we play with AK-47's. This one's been disabled, and we just keep it on hand as a demo copy for those that we're buying the Iraqi Army.

I'll occasionally have a cigar--not often enough to get oral cancer, just whenever I want to look like a badass.

The Rest Is Noise

Monday, 2007 May 28, 2202 UTC +0300

Alex Ross of The New Yorker was kind enough to spare a few generous words about me for the Memorial Day post on his blog. (See his blog here and the post here.) I got 3000 hits on my site the last two days, up from the usual 50 per day. I would be remiss if I did not thank him by offering to share my reader base with him. His site will perhaps get an extra hit this week--way to go Mom.

Qatari Interlude

Thursday, 2007 June 14, 2125 UTC +0300

The workload with MNSTC-I can be overbearing. Since my arrival on 17 February, I worked every day through 4 June--12 hours most days, generally 80+ hours per week. There isn't much to do in Baghdad, so we don't complain.

The military does their best to maintain our sanity. I've just returned to Baghdad after participating in my mid-tour "4-day pass", which involves a trip back to Qatar to spend some time at the R&R facilities at Camp As Sayliyah. Photography was prohibited in some places and discouraged in others, but I'll try to discuss some of the more pertinent and interesting parts of my trip within the next few posts.

The Flight

Thursday, 2007 June 14, 2206 UTC +0300

My trip down to Qatar was just so horrible, I have to share... Actually, considering the headaches I went through in deploying, it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been, but it was still one the more unpleasant days of my life.

Camp Sather

The military seems to enjoy moving people at night. This is understandable, to be sure, however it gets quite tedious when you're asked to show up for transportation in the middle of the night, and then have to sit in the terminal for hours until the planets align.

Due to limited transportation options out of the IZ, it's pretty typical to have a long wait at Baghdad Int'l Airport. I arrived at BIAP at 0400, and was faced with a thirteen hour layover. Fortunately, nearby Camp Sather has transient billeting, available for free to all military personnel. They call this billeting facility the "Sunny Palms Resort" or some other such nonsense. It's a big tent with forty or so bunk beds, grimy mattresses, and a pile of sheets and blankets to pick through. The tent is pitch black 24 hours a day, and is continuously overrun with snores and the humming of an industrial air conditioner. On awakening, I was greeted with the pleasant vista seen at right.

C-130

From here, I go to sit in the airport terminal. By airport terminal, I mean a concrete area with an aluminum roof. No walls, no air conditioning... You get the idea. A hundred or so of us sit here indeterminately until our flights are called up some hours later. We then squirm into our 80 pounds of gear and stand in line in an alley for another hour or so. The temperature has passed 40 degrees Celsius, and we're all exhausted. We then get the call to move out, and we have a walk of perhaps 500 meters across the asphalt flight line to our waiting C-130.

Like cattle, we file into the belly of this 1963 aircraft. There is seating for about 60, yet we somehow fit about 80. There are four lengthwise rows of seats, pairs facing each other, with so little leg room that our knees must interlock with our neighbor across the aisle. Our bags are on our lap or hanging overhead, but we remain in full uniform and body armor for the whole flight. I have never sweated so much in my life--not while running seven miles, nor during my near-death experience with Bikram Yoga.

Once we're airborne the plane cools off and the worst of it is over. Nonetheless, we still have two and a half hours flying time; three hours waiting at Al Udeid Air Base, going through customs, etc.; a one hour bus ride to Camp As Sayliyah; and two hours or so of in-processing at the R&R facility before we can get to a shower and a fresh bed. My shirt is still soaked as I gingerly drop it on the floor.

Doha

Tuesday, 2007 June 19, 2027 UTC +0300

Most of my time on R&R was spent at the recreation facilities on Camp As Sayliyah. However, we did get an opportunity to leave the installation on an organized tour of Doha. I'm sure that to some extent, this trip was a canned look at the sites most appealing to Westerners, and avoided other parts of the city that the Qatari people might prefer we stay away from. This is probably for the best, since there are, without doubt, mixed feelings about Americans among the local populace, and there was no concealing the military background of this generally uncouth group of young American tourists.

We started in the outskirts of the city, with some camel stables and a few food markets. The food markets, despite being somewhat less sanitary than what we're accustomed to in the US, were very well supplied with a variety of foods that rivals any grocery I've seen. The seafood market was a sure source for incontinence as far as I was concerned, but seemed to be working for the hundreds of bustling patrons. We were discouraged from photographing the locals, but I did get a photo of this rather indignant camel. (Indignant camels are not hard to find.)

From what little I saw this day, I'd say that Qatar is facing a difficult cultural transition. The history of the Middle East dwells on continual struggle for resources (fertile land and water, to name two huge ones), and the mentality behind this struggle has bled over to private lives, where this influx of money and Western culture has created a huge interest in vanity. Qatar deals in lots of gold and pearls, and most of the jewelry exchanges are also outside of the urban downtown area. The gold "souqs" (Arabic for "shops", I presume) deal in some of the most elaborate jewelry I've ever seen. It's not necessarily valuable, just big.

The downtown area is architecturally quite progressive. The buildings are all very modern, and the infrastructure is pretty much ready for the sort of traffic that a large city generates. There are perhaps more buildings over 40 stories tall in Doha than in all of Boston, yet the population of the whole country of Qatar is only 841,000 (estimated). Furthermore, at least half of these buildings are under construction. It's hard for me to imagine these buildings being leased any time soon. See Google Maps satellite imagery.

It is apparent that Qatar is posturing itself to be a resort and international business hub for the world. This is the only reason I can find for the enormous effort being put into this kind of development. They know that oil money will run out some day and for Qatar to remain economically viable, they'll need a new industry to expand. It's good to see that they are planning ahead, but I wonder if a culture can survive on its investments alone.

If you clicked on the google map link above, you can see just how much development they have planned. There's also a large flat rectangular building in the center of the downtown area. This is the City Center Mall--perhaps the largest mall I've ever been in, though once again, lots of vacancy here for planned expansion. If it were empty, this mall would feel very much like an American mall. There are many of the same retailers, and just a similar feel. However when you load it up with people, it takes on a very different atmosphere.

Before this trip, I'd never seen Muslims in traditional dress (men and women). I had expected that this division in cultural standards between genders would noticeably manifest itself in the way men and women act in public. Women would only be seen shopping for household necessities and taking care of the children. Men would be off doing whatever it is men do. I'm sure this is true in some places in the Middle East, but it's less true in Qatar, and not at all true in this mall.

Young men stand around and joke and try to look tough. Young women scamper about in gaggles, giggling and gossiping. Couples walk around hand in hand, with children in tow behind them. Were it not for their dress, their behavior would be basically indistinguishable from what I'm used to back home. It was frankly a bit eerie to see so many men and women dressed in basically identical clothing, living out their normal lives. (Sorry, no photos here either.) Though, to be fair, it was equally eerie the first time I walked into a Base Exchange back home and saw everyone shopping for clothes and buying groceries in military uniform. I guess I simply expect people with such different appearances to behave differently as well.

Our last stop on the tour was at the old souqs. This is the primary area in Doha where craftsmen and artisans can sell their goods. These little shops go on and on and on, there are probably several kilometers of little alleys with shops on all sides. Much of the area has been roofed between the buildings, so you feel like you're wandering around in catacombs. I could have spent hours looking at all the shops, but we had limited time as it was growing late in the day. There were lots of really great photo opportunities here, though without a tripod, nothing turned out well in the waning light. Use your imagination.

That's all I have for my trip. The return travel was relatively uneventful, except for the gut-tumbling landing in Kuwait (which cannot be adequately described in this forum). My next post will take us back to Baghdad.

Things To Do In Baghdad When You're Bored

Friday, 2007 July 6, 2153 UTC +0300

Mostly, I pass my free time at home on my computer, just keeping in touch with family, friends, and a few random strangers. You can't sit on your duff all the time, but you also don't always care to wander around in the heat and gear and where would you go, anyway?

I started shaving my head recently. Don't worry, ladies, it will grow back! This is not a permanent look, but it's actually very nice for this sort of environment--much cleaner and cooler than the greasy mop I wore around the first four months.

Phantom hair:

Another fun thing to do in Baghdad is prowl around in damaged buildings. Yes mother, this is perfectly safe. Maybe not safe by OSHA standards, but it's no more dangerous than being in Baghdad in the first place.

My Little Friend

Sunday, 2007 July 29, 0805 UTC +0300

For those of you not in the loop, I'm getting close to the end of my tour. I have a little over two weeks left, and I'm beginning to think about how I'm going to transfer my job to the next poor sap, Gecko

as well as how I'm going to get all my stuff out of here, make all the necessary travel arrangements, etc. The combination of anticipation and uneasiness makes for a huge weight on my shoulders.

A little gecko has taken up residence among the sand bags outside my trailer. He is just waking up when I come home, and he greets me before skittering off to eat some tasty bugs.

I'd like to take him home with me. This place is not safe, and he doesn't even have a helmet or any body armor. What will happen if he gets hit with a rocket? He doesn't stand a chance.

Time really does fly here. I'm afraid I'll blink and I'll be on my flight home. This may not be the most pleasant place in the world, but I still need to take it all in before I leave. I don't want to forget what has happened here.

Deployment Roundup, Part I

Monday, 2007 August 13, 1306 UTC +0300

I'm back at Camp Sather, and what do you know, they lost my flight reservation out of BIAP. At the very least, I'm booked for the 16th, which will still get me out of Al Udeid by the 18th. Plus I have a good spot on the "space available" list, which will probably get me out according to my original plan. Nonetheless, I'm back to the musty bunk beds for at least 12 hours or so. 'Marginal internet service, and not a lot of places to hang out, but at least they have air conditioning and electrical outlets in the tent. Though the unease of living in a war zone still persists, I couldn't be happier to have left the International Zone behind.

What's really most amazing to me is that all of this knowledge that I slaved over the last six months is now valuable for nostalgic purposes only. I no longer need to know where all the Iraqi Heavy Equipment Transporters are, or how many ILAV's are remaining to be delivered, or what kind of equipment is necessary in a Mobile Field Kitchen. This sort of information was really the only thing for which I've been accountable for the last six months. All the sudden my life feels empty, but it's also incredibly liberating.

I was surprised by how attached I felt upon departure. Just prior to leaving my office for the last time, I made the rounds, shook everyone's hand, and let them all know how good it was to work with them... Most of the time I really meant it, and by the time I got to my bosses (I had three), I was a bit of a wreck. I shed a few tears and eventually just had to sit down and regain my composure. We all smiled and laughed at each other, because we all felt similarly. It was a touching moment--despite all our differences and disagreements, we were able to just sit for a minute and acknowledge that we would miss each other.

I had a couple of goals for this deployment. One was purely a physical one--I planned to get myself in the kind of shape necessary to get a 100% score on the Air Force Physical Fitness Test. I'm still not quite there on pushups (I'll never be good at them, given the way my body is put together), but I managed to reduce my three-mile run time from about 23 minutes, down to my personal best of 19:29, all while putting on about 5 kg of muscle. I'm in the best shape of my life.

I'll be honest, part of the reason to come here was also to save a bunch of money. I managed to pay off my car and academic loans (roughly $20k total), and save up an additional $10k or so, which feels great. The pay here is nothing extraordinary, but having essentially zero living expenses makes essentially every dollar earned go straight to the bank. I'm excited to be able to start investing and looking into perhaps owning some property in the next year or so.

Another goal of mine was to gain a better understanding of what the military really does. It's fine to sit in an office all day and work on procurement for the military, but you just can't have a great understanding of what military ideology is all about until you've really lived it.

A fourth goal was to better comprehend what's happening in Iraq. We hear all kinds of things on the news, and it was always interesting to read the volumes of reports about what is going on right in front of your nose, and be able to confidently say that only a minority of it is both accurate and balanced.

I'll elaborate on the fulfillment of the two prior goals in my next post, which I realize is what a lot of people will be most interested to read about, and is deserving of a post of its own.

Lastly, I simply wanted to better understand people. It's very easy to become sheltered in our private lives, since we tend only to engage people and activities with which we feel we have some sort of commonality. I've grown tired, over the recent few years, of all the politically-charged conflict that seems to exist within the American people. Everyone is convinced that they know what is best for the world. Yet without a broader perspective, it became clear to me that I could never appreciate the variety of good intentions people have in communities outside my own. This deployment gave me an eye-opening glimpse of just how broad political and social discourse can be. On a similar note, I'll leave you with the brief address I gave to my peers at my farewell reception (edited for readability, and because I don't have a clue what actually came out of my mouth):

"Today is a bittersweet day for me. It's a sweet day because I'm finally going home after six months away from my friends and family. But it's also a bitter day (short pause, allowing the audience to prepare for me to say that it's bitter because I'm leaving all these great people) because I cut myself shaving this morning.

"I hope that all of you truly appreciate what a tremendous opportunity it is to serve here. We will all go home to our other military assignments or to the civilian life, and will be among peers who will either not understand what it's like to deploy, or will have had vastly different deployment experiences. Most of us will never do anything of this magnitude the rest of our lives.

"After such an experience, it's important to ask yourself, "What have I learned? How have I grown?" I could list a couple dozen things, but I'd rather just describe one important thing, something that perhaps you'll actually remember about me.

"Over the past few months, you've gotten to know Lieutenant Currie, United States Air Force, but few of you know anything about Daniel Currie, United States Citizen. I grew up in a middle class family in Portland, Oregon. I busted my ass in school and managed to graduate salutatorian of my class. From there, I went off to an Ivy League university, one of the more liberal schools in the country, where I studied mechanical engineering and music composition. And just four years ago, I joined 300,000 New Yorkers on the streets, protesting military involvement in Iraq. How did I end up here?

"My rather unique background has given me an interesting perspective. For many political and social issues, I've spent time on both sides of the wire. I've experienced different environments and lifestyles, and have known people of many different ideals and beliefs.

"Shortly after my arrival, [our unit commander] said in one of his allocutions of few words (this is a joke--he is a bit long-winded, and yet begins most of his addresses by saying, "I'm a man of few words..."), "Nobody wakes up, looks in the mirror, and says to themselves, I want to do a bad job today." I think he was referring to the J4 (our organization's name), regarding the level of professionalism and dedication exhibited by all of us. But if you believe this to be true, you have to expand this idea beyond J4, MNSTC-I, the Department of Defense, or even the United States. This is true of every man and woman on Earth.

"What have I learned? How have I grown? I've learned that we are truly a product of our environment, that we are all genuinely dedicated to making the world a better place. I've grown in that I am less apt to see people as right or wrong, but rather as having different solutions to similar problems. And I've learned that if you really step back and carefully consider how greatly another persons background, upbringing, and current circumstances differ from yours, you can rarely find fault in their actions.

"Those of you staying behind, I wish you the best of luck and that you safely find your way home. Thank you making this deployment such a positive experience."

Deployment Roundup, Part II

Tuesday, 2007 August 14, 2326 UTC +0300

In addition to the personal experiences in the previous post, I've also developed some general conclusions regarding the occupation of Iraq. Please note that these thoughts do not constitute official perspectives of the Dept of Defense, US Air Force, etc., plus these thoughts are inherently limited by the scope of the work I was doing, which leaves out a good portion of the actual happenings in Iraq. I will also attempt to leave my personal opinions on the occupation out of this post, however I'd be happy to discuss these opinions in private.

Morale is likely to be a serious problem if the United States does not reduce it's deployed troop strength in the near term. Military personnel tend to believe in what they are doing, and are accepting of deployments. However, we now have significant numbers of troops--particularly in the Army--who are doing third and even fourth tours in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom. Furthermore, the Army has been forced to dig as deep as the inactive reserves, which is a group of people who, across the board, are not interested in being in the military any longer. You can't take someone who has resigned from the Army away from their civilian life for 12-15 months and expect them to be happy about it. If current manning levels are to continue, the other services will need to dig deeper to make up for the Army's current over-manning. I can say from my own experience that there are resources within the Air Force that remain largely untapped. The Air Force is picking up some slack by producing more one-year deployments, however the United States occupation of Iraq is reaching the end of what is reasonably manageable in terms of longevity.

Previous failures in raising the Iraqi Army and Police are not accurate predictors for the success of future similar efforts. For example, attrition has been a consistent problem in the Iraqi Army, however the enactment of new measures to resolve this problem will yield different results from those previously achieved. Every effort to secure Iraq, whether it be unique or similar to efforts attempted in the past, will be somehow different, as a result of developments as broad as political climate to availability of equipment. One cannot simply say that because we have failed in the past, we will continue to fail.

Building a nation like Iraq takes a much longer time than most Americans are willing to tolerate. Perhaps the Bush administration is to blame for the generally unrealistic notions people have about how long the occupation of Iraq will need to last, but nonetheless, the American people should be prepared to take a decade to see any tangible return on our efforts. Just installing in all the necessary infrastructure will take several years. One also cannot assume that because Iraq is still regularly subject to terrorist attacks, that the building of infrastructure is significantly hindered. Establishing a functioning government and shutting down terrorist organizations in Iraq are, generally speaking, independent tasks. It would be incorrect to assume that because one of these tasks may meet with limited success, that the other is not perfectly on track.

The end of our involvement in Iraq is not simply a success/failure paradigm. People talk about how Iraq has been a failure, but it's not so black and white. If the United States were to pull out of Iraq immediately, there are some places that would have a good chance of remaining secure. In particular, the Kurdish region to the North is generally well-defended, and has been standing for some time now with relatively little US assistance. As such, the question we need to consider is what level of assistance will provide a reasonable amount of security in Iraq, while not over-burdening the American taxpayer. This is not an easy question to answer, which is probably why so many people avoid it altogether.

The United States is ultimately attempting to impose radical change on the Iraqi culture. Saddam Hussein was (arguably) successful at establishing a functioning government, but that society was based on ultimate authority rather than personal incentives. We've completely pulled the rug out from under the entire Iraqi people. The Iraq Army historically operated by intimidating troops and their families with death, prison, and torture, yet now we expect Iraqis to accept that they must form a military and be internally driven to do whatever is necessary to support their nation. There are similar changes taking place in commerce, utilities, resource management, etc. Such a transition will ultimately take generations, because there are thirty-year-old Iraqi citizens who have never experienced any other way of life. Perhaps a more accurate way of looking at the occupation of Iraq is as the United States providing Iraq an opportunity to build the sort of country that it wants to have. Our aim is to simply prevent external forces from having an undue influence on this process, not telling Iraq how to run their country.

This post concludes my blog. I hope you've enjoyed reading, and please do keep in touch!

Best,
-- 1Lt Daniel Todd Currie

BAGHDAD BLOTTER

Unofficial notes, both personal and societal, from one USAF Lieutenant stationed in the Baghdad International Zone

ABOUT ME

POSTS

Welcome To My Blog!

Sunday, 2007 January 28, 0400 UTC +0300

Deploying By Train

Tuesday, 2007 February 13, 1837 UTC +0300

In Germany...

Wednesday, 2007 February 14, 1714 UTC +0300