I Should Have Stayed Home...

Everything OK

2005-12-22T02:52:00.000+03:00

Just a quick post to say that we are both doing ok. Thanks Pebblepie for the Christmas wishes.

This site has been inactive for a long time, but it's not completely dead; we hope there will be future posts as possible.

TJ

In response to MKL and BC's comments...

2005-09-06T02:48:00.000+03:00

Ok, ok, I'll post something. But I want the end of that ghost story. I already know the plot, but that won't spoil a thing!

Well, it's been over 5 months since I've been in Iraq, so I don't really feel qualified to post anything substantial... I could recoup old memories unposted, but they're all stale... or unpostable!

For old time's sake, though, I guess I can make a short comment.

Since I left Iraq I've spent 4 months traveling the world, and have been back in the US for one month (anyone have any jobs going, by the way?). It's great to be back home. But it's odd to see the coverage and reaction to the war, and it's really irritating to see people like Cindy Sheehan.

I know Cindy has been swept under the rug by the horror of Katrina, but there's still a visible undertone of a chorus demanding a quick exit from Iraq. I want to tell you a reason why that chorus is not only wrong, but is immoral. I could provide several logical or political arguments, but I want to provide a personal argument.

Only two or three weeks ago BC called me, and said -

"TJ, the reason I'm calling is that I just left Hayder's house."

'Hayder' is an Iraqi friend of ours, a senior official, with whom I spent at least one day a week, be it in interminable meetings, or in ridiculously low-flying helicopters, or ducking around corners in an insurgent stronghold, or sharing his wife's cooking. Suffice to say he is quite a good friend. BC continued:

"His brother and his two nephews - his brothers' sons - were kidnapped two days ago. Today their dead bodies were found dumped by the side of a road. Hayder is having a memorial for them right now at his house, I think you should call."

I was heartbroken. I pictured Hayder, the tough guy who can make everyone from tribal leaders to US Generals blanche, but whose armor melts as soon as his grandkids come home, and I knew it had to be a hard, hard blow.

I called Hayder at once, prepared for a very depressing conversation. When he picked up, I said, from my heart, "I heard what happened to your brother, and I am so, so sorry."

His reply blew my mind:

"Allahu Akbar" - God is Great - "We all die. I am so happy that my brother and my nephews died in the name of freedom. There is no greater honor."

What do you say to a man like that? What does Cindy say to a man like that? Yes, there are myriads of problems with our efforts in Iraq. But we now have partners - friends - out there who are losing their families to terrorism, and whose reaction is only to thank God that they died for freedom and not for tyranny. To abandon these people would be unthinkable.

I know that for every Hayder there are thousands of Iraqis who curse both houses, or who curse America. But I cannot abandon the Hayders of Iraq. It's a patronizing comparison, but I think of Iraq like a child rescued by social services from an abusive home, but then dumped in the South Bronx and left to fend for himself. Job done? Work complete?

Not while I still have a conscience.

TJ

2005-09-02T14:39:00.000+03:00

I know it's not really fair that I haven't posted anything in so long without saying something, so I'm sorry about that. My sister actually emailed me and told me about the comments here, and I have been so wrapped up in work that i literally havent't been to our own blog in months.

So to all of you who are wondering, I am still here in Iraq. I am still safe. To all of you our there who have taken the time and shown an interest, thank you. I can't say how refreshing it is to have total strangers show such an interest in life out here.

To the reporters looking for some new insight for your stories, thank you too for your interest. You will understand that our anonymity prevents us from entertaining such requests. Take what you will from the stories here. They are true.

Seems like just yesterday I was saying, "well, elections coming up." Looks like we're back there again. 43 days the the referendum. We have roughly triple the amount of Iraqi Security Forces as we did on January 30, so securing the elections shouldn't be as challenging in that regard. There are some new challenges though -- both politically and on the security landscape. Maybe I will take some time and talk about those in the near future. Then again, maybe I won't. We'll see.

And right, of course, don't worry. The ghost story is coming soon. And I swear, there really was a ghost involved.

Stand By

2005-05-16T19:54:00.000+03:00

Priorities have shifted, and I will unfortunately not be able to blog for at least a few more days. I'm sorry about this, but it's one of things I can't really control. Don't think we are gone for good. Sometimes you just have to take things one at a time. Right now, I have to focus on work. I hope you all understand.

-BC

2005-05-09T13:52:00.000+03:00

I forgot my favorite from that day. I'll let you steal this one. Click to enlarge.

2005-05-08T18:24:00.000+03:00

After the ceremony, the new officers relax.

2005-05-08T18:22:00.000+03:00

I told you they were excited... They certainly have cause to celebrate.

2005-05-08T18:20:00.000+03:00

Bearing the flag...

2005-05-08T18:19:00.000+03:00

Iraqi Police Officers forming up for their graduation in Baghdad. These guys were pretty excited.

2005-05-08T18:16:00.000+03:00

I've been out for a bit. Promise to finish the Ghost Story soon but in the meantime here are a few pictures. This first one is a soldier checking out the Iranian border. No, don't worry, he's not actually shooting at anyone. Those mountains in the distance are Iran.

Ghost Story (part 1)

2005-05-02T16:41:00.000+03:00

Well it looks like I let my emotions get the best of me in the past few days. It has been another one of those rollercoaster weeks, as you can see by my post below. TJ called me a "cheeseball" for it, but I also know that he understands (you know you do, pal). Anyway, to lighten the mood for this week, I'm going to tell a story that we've been meaning to tell for months. It was one of those that we definitely couldn't tell right away, and it is one of those that still needs a good bit of censoring. But it is a good story still, even with some of the details left out. It took place in Baghdad, on a dark, icy, winter night. This, my friends, is a ghost story…

Sometime around 2200 hrs, after our usual day of work, TJ and I sat staring at our computers. This is typically our first real quiet time of the day, and it is not uncommon to stick around until after midnight. I'm pretty sure that around this time TJ got a frantic call on his cell phone from someone requesting a meeting, without much of an explanation. To make a long story short, he found himself 20 minutes later outside a small roadside market meeting with a senior Iraqi official (call him Khalid). I got the call from TJ a few short minutes after his meeting:

"Be ready to leave in the parking lot in 5 minutes. I'm on my way with Khalid and his deputy. It's going to be a long night."

While this sort of thing isn't entirely abnormal in our job, it's also not a regular occurrence. If anything, it is an example of the fact that you can never know what to expect at any given time in our jobs. Along with one other colleague who was also working late, I got some gear together and scrambled for the door. We packed some extra equipment for TJ, who had left in a rush, and for Khalid's deputy, who was to be working with us that evening.

So off we went to the parking lot, jumping into TJ's barely stopped car, only to be sped off to another location in the vicinity. There, a small group of vehicles were waiting to pick us up. Off we went on a midnight excursion into the middle of Baghdad, with only a slight understanding of the mission ahead. What I can say is this: there was apparently someone hiding in a building that the Iraqi and Coalition Forces would have loved to apprehend. The Iraqi deputy we had with us was there to represent Iraqi Security Forces in the apprehension.

After arriving on site, we received a quick brief from the officer in charge. Plan was for TJ and I to walk up to the building with our Iraqi colleague and request that the suspect surrender himself (there was actually quite a bit more detail to it, but you get the idea). The building had been monitored for the previous 6 hours, and we were told that no one had escaped the security cordon. So off we went, leading the way to the building.

"Ring the doorbell and see if the terrorists will come out willingly," the Commander reminded us. "If they start shooting, just hit the deck and wait for us to extract…"
And with these final words of reassurance, we set off on our mission, traversing a barren field with Humvees and QRFs moving in to support. After setting up our final support positions, TJ and I were finally ready to make our big entry. Tensions were running high, but we bit the bullet and took those final steps up to the gate...

[Stay tuned for the continuation this story. It has been a very busy few days so I can't finish it now, but I figured i would publish what I have for now. And trust me, the ghosts do come in the second half.]

Baghdad from a distance

2005-04-28T14:36:00.000+03:00

I'm going to be out of email touch for the next few weeks, and what I have to say isn't probably very interesting to most of you, so I'll keep this short.

It's been about ten days since I left Baghdad, and things seem different from this distance - at once more real and more unbelievable. It seemed like the whole year went past in the blink of an eye, like I hadn't been away at all, until I start thinking it through. I've given a couple of talks in the last day or two, and that's forced me to go through the experience week by week, processing everything that happened. I've got a good baseline narrative written down as a result, and I think I'll keep developing and building upon it.

The oddest part, though, is the mental distance that's sprung up between me and what happens there. Sure, every time I see the news I can visualize the events. But you remember how BC was talking about being on vacation and everything in Baghdad seeming more harsh, losing his numbness? For me it's the other way around. In the past ten days several guys I knew have been killed, including one Iraqi officer I worked relatively closely with, but rather than being more upset, as BC was, I feel even more unaffected than I was in Baghdad.

Another strange part is seeing the way the media covers Iraq. I mean, it's like they haven't a clue what's going on there. People ask me what it's like and they expect me to wince, or shudder or something, and are taken aback when I tell them about the good friends I made, or the great experiences I had, or the fact that I still support this fight.

Oh well. I'm off to go have fun somewhere warm (warm! Not 120 degrees!). While I'm away, please tell BC to stop being so cheezy.

TJ

2005-04-26T16:06:00.000+03:00

If today were to be your last day here, would you be at peace with yourself and your life?

I've just returned from the memorial service for the seven Blackwater men who were killed in the Skylink helicopter attack. The chaplain raised the question above, which I think is important for us all to consider. It hit me pretty hard when I first found out, and the days since then have been spent in pretty serious contemplation. Remember when I talked about normality here in Iraq? This sort of thing is a reality check; especially for those of us who have been here long enough to think that life here is in any way normal. Well, I'm not much in the mood here to wax philosophical. My only point is that these are the times when you stop and think whether you are really living everyday the way you want to be. Perhaps the most important lesson I've learned in my time here is to always make sure to let the people in my life know that I love them, every chance that I get. I know people here who will regret their last words with a loved one for the rest of their lives. Life is too short to end a phone call upset, or to walk away in frustration.

Make your relationships worth it, folks. Don't forget to tell those people you love them. You can never be sure which words will be your last.

2005-04-15T17:07:00.000+03:00

Here it is, folks. The only picture of us we'll ever post on this blog. I thought it would be fitting, with TJ leaving in the next few days. This photo was taken a few days ago on our trip out to the middle of nowhere. As usual, there was a lot of hurry-up-and wait. A friend of ours found us like this and decided to take a picture. Note the multipurpose use of the AK-47 as pillow/automatic weapon...

Farewell to Arms

2005-04-15T16:39:00.000+03:00

This will be my final post from Iraq - for now. There's a chance I'll be back in several months. In the meantime, though, it's over to BC.

It's funny, the things that stick with you. In the over-a-year that I've been out here there has been no shortage of adventures, of moments that embed themselves in your memory. But one incident in particular has stayed with me.

It was in the first weeks after I got here. I was walking down a hallway in what was then the CPA headquarters, at about 8 in the evening. There was an American Colonel staring out of the window at the moon, which hung particularly heavy and bright that night, slowly sinking behind the rooftops. "Nice moon," I commented.

He continued staring, then said "I live in Idaho, in Boise. When the moon sets here it's rising over my home. Every night I watch it set, and at the same time my wife watches it rise."

Since then, whenever I step outside late at night for a final smoke and see the moon I think of that Colonel and his wife.

It's been an incredible experience for me, and I'll be leaving behind a lot of very good friends - both American and Iraqi. I hope to come back and keep helping out here; as I've said, there's a lot of work yet to be done. Oddly enough, I will miss this place.

Some time in a few weeks I will be back in the States. It'll be a clear night, and I'll turn a corner and see the moon rising over my city, and I'll know that just at that moment someone out here is watching it set.

History

2005-04-12T14:01:00.000+03:00

Ziad is dead. I just heard. His boss, an Iraqi general mentioned it in passing. "Ziad was shot 2 days ago at his home." So that's another one then. Another good guy who might be living today if he hadn't met me. I got him involved in some security operations out west. In the course of that stuff, which we've been working on together for about four months, he would attend meetings with me and with the locals. I guess some of the locals learnt enough about him to figure out where he lives. So that's another colleague gone.

------------------------------------

Anyway, I'll try not to be all doom and gloom. You can't be around here. You just have to keep moving on. And so it is I'll now tell you the - until now - unknown history of the Gulf War.

I had another Arak session with General Ashraf last night (ugh - I still feel a bit nauseous) - and in the course of the evening he pulled out some old photos. They were of him - looking much younger - and the Iraqi Minister of Interior back in 1988. "In Kuwait," he said, pointing a chubby finger at the flag behind them.

"You were in Kuwait in 1988?" I asked.

"Yes. Military Intelligence."

I rifled through the photographs, finding one of him beside a sandberm.

"Border?"

"Yes."

He then continued - "The night after that photograph was taken there was a knock on my hotel room door. They said to me 'we will give you seven million dollars if you never tell anyone what you saw today.'"

"What had you seen?"

"Oil drilling. Like this." He slid his arm diagonally in front of his face.

"Wait a sec. Don't tell me you're the guy who found out that the Kuwaitis were drilling diagonally!" - That was, after all, Saddam's causus belli back in 1990.

"Yes. And I write report to Saddam and say, 'the Kuwaitis are drilling diagonally.' But he went too far. I wrote that he should only invade five miles. But instead he took all the country."

I was stunned. I said - as much to myself as to him - "Are you telling me that the war with Kuwait was your fault? That it's because of you that I'm sitting here now?"

He laughed and poured some more Arak.

And later he said, "the American Ambassador come in 1990 and we tell her we are going to invade, and she say ok, so long as it is only five miles. I was there."

(For recognized historical background on this whole series of events, click here.)

Well, some of what Ashraf says I take with a grain of salt. This story in particular - that it was his discovery and his report to Saddam that started the Gulf War - seems more than a bit fantastic.

But there was no denying the photographs.

The Silent Revolution

2005-04-10T17:14:00.000+03:00

Just back from a trip down South. BC is still out in the field, but I had to cut it short as I need to begin outprocessing… sigh… Anyway, if you miss BC's posts, not to worry. A few more days and he's all you're getting.

I'm really going to miss this place. I realized that several times over the last three days… driving through ramshackle towns of mud huts where dirt roads are bordered by blue canals and where girls in scarlet dresses waving from the dark of their unlit homes… great meals with the Iraqi Security Forces after returning from patrols… Spilling out of the HMMWV ready to fire… the distant boom of mortars echoing across the desert (in this case fired by bored Coalition Forces rather than aggressive insurgents)… and, of course, the people.

Any one hour in the last few days would make a long post. But this time I'm going to stick to politics. Hence the title of this post.

It's one of those potentially massive stories that, yet again, the press has overlooked. But in the entire country south of Baghdad it is evident that a sea-change is ongoing. Provincial Councils recently elected are now taking their seats and they are, with few if any exceptions, overridingly controlled by the Shia religious parties. The South is rife with talk of foreign influence, and appointees of the Allawi government are finding themselves being hounded out of office. This is most visibly – and most aggressively- happening in the security sector. The replacement candidates are of a decidedly religious and/or foreign background. Frankly, it’s scary. The entire political leadership in the South has taken on a new complexion, and while it does not have to be anti-Coalition or anti-Sunni by nature, there are clear signs that it will be.

The only hedge I can see against this sectarianism and foreign influence is the power of the central government; it is the central Iraqi government that still maintains legal power over the security sector. So it will be absolutely critical in the coming days to watch how the new cabinet shakes out, and which parties gain control of the Ministries of Defense and Interior, the Office of the National Security Advisor, and the Iraqi National Intelligence Service. For now things remain in flux, as the new Government is not entirely formed. If some kind of balance and powersharing can be worked out, things may just hold; if the Shia parties strongarm their way into those slots there is a good chance – if not an absolute certainty – that the impact on the political and security situation in the South will be shaped for a long time to come in a way detrimental to the interests of a democratic Iraq and the USA. Another important factor in the long term will be the Constitution. I would expect to see a push by the Shia parties for greater provincial control – since it is in the provinces where they have the most influence.

I honestly don't think the people of Iraq – even the people of the South – want this new religious and foreign influence in their governance. But the Shia parties were the best organized – better organized than the obvious alternative of tribal alliances – and Sistani's fatwa also had a strong influence, as did some other factors. But this is a critical time for Iraq, and what I am increasingly realizing is that the path to democracy – and, for that matter, strategic victory for Operation Iraqi Freedom – far from being accomplished is only just beginning.

Meet the President/Meet the Parents

2005-04-06T23:05:00.000+03:00

I happened to have a meeting today in the Baghdad Convention Center, where the National Assembly was meeting. What a great chance to witness history!

As I was walking up to it I came to a checkpoint manned by one of the latest Coalition allies, Georgians. They were engaged in frantic hand signals (interspersed with Russian exclamations) with a suited man and his security guards.

The problem, it seemed, was that the security guards didn't have the right IDs. Now, normally I would have kept walking, but I felt like an ass. I mean, here was a delegate trying to get to his Congress, and the security guards would let me, an American, in without a second glance, but not Iraqis. I chimed in and said I'd escort the group.

The man turned out to be the leader of the Turkoman party, and he was effusive in his thanks. I think I may be having dinner at the party headquarters next week. Either that, or I've got an invite to Kirkuk. I'm not really sure.

And then inside the Convention Center Sheikhs in their robes moving gracefully along the floor, politicians gabbing in small groups here and there. I was with an Iraqi friend. As we passed two particularly dressed-up Sheikhs he leaned over to me. "TJ," he murmured, "I should get the robes of the Sheikhs. Then people would pay me respect and the girls would do whatever I told them to."

Anyway, we settled down into our meeting until someone burst in and said, "Congratulations, Iraq has a new President. It is Talabani. The Deputies are Adel and Ghazi."

A general sitting next to me spit on the floor. "Ghazi al Yawer. ptoo. Pachachi is much better."

---------

I had lunch today with an Iraqi intelligence officer whose daughter just broke off her engagement.

Well, I say broke off, but he did have a lot to do with it.

He came home one day and his wife introduced him to a young man. "This man would make a great husband for our daughter."

So they sat down and spoke, but during the course of the conversation Alaa, the father, became skeptical about some details of the story. So, being an intel officer, he had the man shadowed.

And put a watch on his house.

And investigated his business.

And in the end found out that his prospective son in law was stealing government property and selling it on the blackmarket.

He had the man arrested. "But the worst part," he said, "is that now I have to go home and explain it all to my wife, who found him in the first place."

Civil Society or Civil War?

2005-04-05T19:04:00.000+03:00

I do, honestly, believe we have come a long way in the last two years. Iraq has had elections and its new government is forming. Fallujah is a safe city, and its markets are opening. Iraqi Security Forces are making arrests and chasing down terrorists. The national electricity and water grids are slowly coming to life. These are all huge achievements.

And yet, we are not out of the woods yet. While it is unlikely that things will seriously go 'pear shaped' for as long as Coalition forces remain in the country, it is still not possible to discount the chances of civil war after they leave – and nor are we out of the woods in terms of the insurgency.

The past six weeks or so have been the quietest since before the fighting of April '04. So it's only natural to see a downward trend – particularly set against the various operational successes of the Marines' 'River Blitz' up the Euphrates and the large engagements by Coalition and Iraqi Forces against insurgent groups at, for example, Thar Thar and North Babil.

But I'm still uneasy.

Part of my unease comes from the formation of the new government.

It was always inevitable that Shia groups would gain power with a free election. And I have no immediate problem with that. The problem is that Shia organized political parties emerged as opposition to Saddam, and were nurtured by Iran. I'm not saying that the Shia are a front from Iran – of course they're not – but their political parties may have significant pro-Iranian elements.

Moreover, there will be an inevitable struggle on the part of the long-repressed Shia to oust those they see as opposed to their cause, or not of their ilk. This, generally unremarked by the Western media, has already begun. Throughout the South of Iraq newly elected Governorate Councils have been pulling the rug out from under Allawi-appointed officials like Chiefs of Police, and trying to jam their own people in place. Here's an example (see 'in other developments') – albeit from a particularly complicated situation - and it's happening elsewhere too, you're just not hearing about it.

It's very hard to judge how concerned we should be about this. I mean, it's the democratic will of the people, right? They elected these provincial councils, they elected this new government. And, moreover, how bad can it really be? The Iraqi Shia – with Sistani in the lead – are most certainly not the same as the the Iranian Shia. They don't see the role of religion in government in the same way. So there is hope for moderation.

Never the less, many Sunni I know are very worried. "We can't trust them," they whisper, peering around as if a Shia might be listening in the backseat of my car. And if the majority of the Sunni feel that the Shia are mounting a takeover of the state, we can expect a major backlash from the Sunni/Baathist insurgency. Alternatively, if the extremist Shia elements like Moqtada Sadr feel that the government is being too accommodating to the Sunni, they, too, could start to throw their weight around.

As always, it will be an interesting time. Suffice to repeat – we are not yet out of the woods. The crisis in Iraq will last a long, long time. The coming weeks – including the 2 year anniversary of the fall of Saddam – will be an important barometer of what is to come.

Countdown

2005-04-04T22:35:00.000+03:00

So, two weeks from today I leave Iraq.

Not to worry - BC will be here to continue the blogging, and maybe I'll chime in with incisive political analysis from time to time. ;-) But, in any event, I have two weeks left in country.

Am I happy to be going?

Oddly enough, no. I have very mixed feelings.

On the one hand, I know it's the right thing to do. I feel that I've reached my 'sell-by date' - the point after which my net contribution to this 'project' declines in terms of the capacity of myself and my organiztion to do the job to which we're assigned. And it's the right thing for my career. Plus, I could really - really really really really - use a break.

But, on the other hand, I'll be leaving a job - i.e. the new Iraq - not so much unfinished as barely started. And, worse, I feel that I'll be abandoning the Iraqi friends I've made. It's not easy to tell someone that you think it's time to head home, that you need a holiday, when you know that they and their families will be stuck, for the forseeable future, with a life of fear and constant danger.

Also, I have come to love Iraq. Weird, I know. Maybe that's one of the reasons it's time to leave. I stand for Iraqi lieutant colonels, but sit (gleefully) when American generals walk into the room. I feel that my impending departure is like an amicable divorce - it's the right thing, but a key part of my life will be lost forever. The fear is that I'll turn into a war junkie and try to replicate this experience elsewhere on the planet in some future conflict, jumping ill-advisedly into relationships with warzones in an increasingly impossible attempt to recreate this matrimony. But if I don't I'll be stuck like some old fogey living his life off a short story that's repeated over and over again. It'll be a hard balance to strike.

In any event, enough of that crap. I have two weeks of blogging left. I'll try to be more honest, more open with you about what's going on. But it won't be easy. There's a lot I want to share, but can't. In the course of the past months I made a list of 10 things that piss me off, but have decided, upon review, that printing eight of them would draw undue media attention and guarantee that I'd never get another job in the field of international security. So, until I think of something better to post, here's numbers two and six from that list:

2. People who treat Iraq like a touring vacation. For example, people who take day trips to Fallujah just to say they've been. Fallujah is a city that has been devastated by war. Homes are torn apart, people dead. I used to go there weekly because I had important meetings on security issues. But every trip there was a bunch of new people – civilians and senior military– who only go once, go to meetings that have nothing to do with them, don't even take notes, and take obnoxious photographs of old women trying to remove rubble from their homes. Fallujah is not a tourist attraction, and it is insulting to the Iraqis to treat it as such. Not to mention that helicopters cost $30,000 an hour to run, and I don't see why my taxpayer dollars should contribute towards the photo album of an O6 who can't even put on his or her helicopter seatbuckle without help.

6. People who come to Iraq for three months or less and then leave. No, I'm not talking Air Force, that's just their pansy-ass rotation. ;-) I'm talking about people who come as contract or government hires, who commit to at least six months, then come out here and either decide 'not my thing,' or 'that's enough for my resume,' or who came here to escape from their regular lives, rather than to make a difference. You're here to help the Iraqis. Iraq is a relationship-based society. If you've been here for three months you've done absolutely nothing at taxpayer's expense, and you've insulted the Iraqis. Plus, you've learnt nothing in the experience as it takes at least three months to really understand how things work and what's going on. Plus you've been a drain on the people who are already here who have to invest time in educating you. To give you an idea of how big this problem is, I have been here over a year: in my direct workgroup there are now four of us who have been here that long; if you count everyone who is now, or has been, in my workgroup, the total is well over 100.

Anyway, 2 more weeks....

I'm Back.

2005-04-03T17:08:00.000+03:00

I have to admit that after being out of the country for nearly a month, I really began to miss this place. I know it sounds nuts, especially considering that I took my holiday in a place where the danger signs looked like this:

And rushed back to Iraq, where the signs look more like this:

But it is home for me now, and I missed it.

After over a year in and around Baghdad, I've developed the warped sense of normalcy that TJ demonstrates in his last few posts. I mentioned this to him when I got back; I had put off reading the blog until the final week of my leave, and was stunned when I read some of his stories. What I realize now that I hadn't before is how unreal most of these stories sound when you are not actually living them. After just two weeks of vacation in an anonymous paradise, I was utterly shocked to read his entry on our close friend being tortured by Iraqi Police. After learning of our other friends, whose sons were kidnapped by terrorists, I was in disbelief. Now that's not the strange part. The strange part is that to those who are living these experiences in Iraq every day, they are completely normal occurrences. I think we all understand the numbness that takes over in situations like this, but it took a bit of time removed from the situation to realize the gravity of the things to which we become immune.

TJ writes about these events like another blogger may complain of a long meeting at work. They are, despite their magnitude, regular events. I had a bit of a revelation in this sense while away. It often surprised me when various folks on my trip asked me, "is it dangerous there?" after finding out where I worked. For the record, it is. Very.

I got the sense (after reading the blog and remembering what I had made a point to forget) that most people aren't ready to accept the brutal reality of life in a war zone, in the absence of overt war. I'm not sure I would have the framework to accept the reality of a close friend being picked up by police and being tortured for no good reason at all. For most people who come here, it is an eye-opening experience. So when I answer those people in the bar, or on the beach, or sitting next to me on a plane, I'm not sure they ever fully absorb what I tell them. I tell them about IEDs and mortars and ambushes on Route Irish and beheadings and kidnapped translators and snipers on the commute to work. I tell them about my friend Mo who was blown up just days after opening up his computer parts shop.

"This is my life," he said. "I have a degree in computer engineering." Two days later I helped him correct the spelling of "accessories" on his hand painted sign. A week after that, he was dead.

But I'm not sure that they understand. After two weeks away from work, I could hardly wrap my mind around it myself. I'm not sure what I can learn from this experience. Anyone with comments is more than welcome to chime in.

Before that, though, I would like to apologize if any of our readers are offended by my thoughts. I do not accuse you of a failure to understand. In fact, I am glad that there are folks among us that make an effort to understand what those in Iraq are going through. You are probably not the ones who would stop me and ask if it is actually dangerous here. In fact, I am sure you are not. Thank you for that. Thank you for reading what we have to say. It is funny that we started this blog to give people some level of ground truth that we didn't normally see in the regular media, and that I was reading it for that same purpose while I was away. I only wish I could have pointed some of those people asking questions this way, but, alas, it is anonymous. So it went; the seemingly endless number of strangers who were astounded that, indeed, it is dangerous to work in Iraq.

Even after all my complaints about media only reporting the bad news, it seems that people weren't really ready to accept certain facts about life in Iraq. A quick look at some headlines would seem to indicate that this is not a safe work environment. Apparently the message is somehow skewed into something like, well, "Iraq going down in flames, while US contractors laugh their way to the bank. Drunk." And incidentally, the other stories that often leave me frustrated are: A) how insanely rich contractors are becoming off reconstruction jobs; or B) how everyone just gets drunk and parties in the Green Zone.

Give them a break, OK? No matter how much they get paid, those contractors earn and deserve every damn cent they are paid and more.

For example, nearly all KBR employees here work over 12 hour days, 7 days a week. They get one day off for every Federal Holiday, within two weeks before or after the actual day. It is fine to say that the corporation may be fleecing the government, but please remember that there are folks here busting their ass to make a living in an unforgiving environment. The friends I have in that company (and others) work their ass off, and they are certainly not here to "get rich quick." And please don't think I'm making a political argument. I wouldn't waste my time on that.

Meanwhile, SashaK4 is back in town. She writes an awesome blog that gets much more personal than most. After 14 months in Iraq, she took a few months at home, and is back for more.

So I've returned. I am glad to be back. Thanks, TJ, for holding up the fort while I was away. I especially liked the one about six inch pipes. I've said it before and I'll say it again—you just can't make this stuff up.

-BC

[edit to add second picture and the link to Sasha's blog]

Victory in straight sets

2005-03-28T15:37:00.000+03:00

Well, that was easier than expected! I talked to the Army and it turns out Nabil didn't have a valid DoD card, so he's getting thrown out of the country. If only everything was that simple. Hussein is very relieved.

In other news... well, same old. Had a very nice dinner the other night at a friend's house. He's an Iraqi general (another one), and he really treated me like royalty. They brought out the fancy plates and silverware, as well as gold-rimmed glasses that he uses so infrequently that they each still bear a little sticker that says "Made in the USSR". All the fancy crockery in the world, though, is no replacement for the ultimate in Iraqi hospitality... The general rolled up his sleeve and plunged his arm deep into the lamb, pulling out a fistful of fat and meat (mostly fat), and squeezed it onto my plate. Now that's what I call good eating...

Also had an amusing meeting today out in al Anbar. In one town, as in many around Iraq, a city council is now meeting regularly, along with representatives of the national government. As the meeting was about to begin, an old Sheikh with a wrinkled face walked into the room, and everyone stood. He shuffled over to a chair in the corner, and the meeting began. Throughout, he sat complacent, eyes half closed as if in meditation. Then, finally, he rose and a hush spread over the crowd. What would wisdom would this ancient sage impart?

He came to the head of the table, and began:

"In the name of Allah, the most gracious, the most merciful.

"Muhammed said, he is the leader of the group, who serves the people."

...And so on in this vein for about five minutes. As the quotations from the Koran gathered pace I awaited his central message, the climax to which he was building. And then it came-

"And so I say to you, do not use six inch pipes. They are too small and will clog. Use wider pipes that will last longer."

Then he waved in hands in blessing and shuffled out the door, surrounded by acolytes.

Mystified? So was I.

Long day, long post.

2005-03-26T12:39:00.000+03:00

It's one of those days.

As I was driving into the compound where I work this morning, one of the guards came up to me, and said, "you must go see Abu Dhiyar, he needs you."

Abu Dhiyar is Hussein, mentioned here. So I did a u-turn and headed off to Hussein's little grocery store, to find him and his family digging into a breakfast of hot tea and stale bread with some kind of banana yogurt dip. Their car, parked in front of the shop, was a wreck, the driver's door dented so deep it was impossible to sit in the driver's seat.

I felt guilty. It had been some time – over a month – since I had last dropped by this little store. And obviously some things had changed in my absence.

Hussein's wife poured me some tea and fussed over me as I carefully sat down on a chair frame that was lacking a seat, and asked what the problem was.

The first problem, he told me, was their house. They had recently bought a small house, and had been approached by a man who wanted to rent a room in it. The man had a DoD ID card, so Hussein trusted him. They discussed the terms, then the man drew up a contract – in English – and they both signed it. The man then kept the only copy. Hussein tells me the terms were $200 a month through the rest of this year.

Anyway, so Hussein and his family went off to work the next morning, and came back in the afternoon to find the house locked up. The man came back in the evening and finally let them in. The next day, the same thing happened, only when they got in, half the furniture was missing. "Where is my furniture?" Hussein asked the man, who would only identify himself as Nabil.

"It was all broken, so I sent it away to be fixed."

"I don't want it fixed!" yelled Hussein, and went searching for his lost items, half of which he soon found in a street market.

Anyway, so request number one from Hussein was 'help me get this man out of my house! I'm afraid from him, he has a DoD card and a gun, but I do not want him in my house!"

This evening we're going over to confront him.

There was also the matter of the car.

It had been hit by one of the multiple armored suburbans that PSDs drive like hooligans around Baghdad. Except, in this case, it had happened in the Green Zone, and the PSD had been off duty. Hussein's other son, Hekmet, had to spend several days in hospital with multiple fractures (this family ain't doing so well with luck). The Iraqi Police investigated the incident and found that the fault lay with the American PSD, who was traveling at excessive speed. An Iraqi judge later confirmed this opinion. But it's almost impossible for Iraqis to get compensation in this kind of incident. If it had been the US Army they would have made amends – but the Private Security Companies aren't so thoughtful, and are much harder to pin down. I took the name of the company and promised Hussein I'd see what I could do.

[If I have no luck through regular channels, look out for more details on the company involved on this blog]

Anyway, as I left Hussein's shop, I bumped into Ziad.

Now I felt even guilter. I had been actively avoiding Ziad for several months, ever since his little bar was shut down for prostitution. No, no, Ziad had never been involved in any such thing - he's actually a really sweet (if somewhat effeminate) guy. What happened was that US contractors were picking up Iraqi girls and bringing them to the bar. Neighbors, naturally, objected, so the bar was shut down, and Ziad thrown in prison for a few weeks. This was back in August, and I had done my best back them to get him out, visiting him several times and holding his hand through the bars as his tears flowed.

But then I was warned off him by several friends, who argued, with good reason, that I probably didn't want to get involved, so one day I just stopped taking his calls.

Anyway, there Ziad was. "TJ! Where have you been? I have been calling you!"

"Uh, I've been out of the country."

"The bar is open again! You must come back! My family they will make big meal for you."

I used to spend a lot of time with Ziad and his family before the whole kerfuffle back in August, and his open welcome and pleasure to see me made me feel even worse, but I promised that I would stop by in the next day or so.

So there you have it. That was my morning.

Relationships drive so much in this country. But the problem, from an American perspective, is that the Iraqis are so much worse off than we are, and need so much. I can't blame them if they need my help – and if I can help I will. But from the poorest beggars on the streets who come up to you, tug at your clothes, and say 'gimme dolla', to guys like Tariq, to the most senior officials who ask for your help in getting them medicine or finding a secure house for their families, a large part of every relationship is built on helping out.

I say this with no malice. The relationships are also, of course, based on shared friendship and respect, and people open their doors to you and share everything they have, even if they can little afford it.

In fact, just as I wrote that sentence, I got a call from another Iraqi friend inviting me to dinner tonight ("my wife has been cooking all day just for you!")

The problem is that we have so much more to give to them, materially and in terms of assistance, than they do to us. And, not being Mother Theresa, so many times I find myself getting fed up with it, or not being able to follow through on my commitments. "Dammit, stop asking me for things," runs through my mind several times a day.

Perhaps a better person would deal with things differently, or feel differently. BC is better at this stuff than I am, more patient and giving of his time. Plus, I think he and I are exposed to this a lot more than most of the Americans we know who don't have any Iraqi friends. But I'm not trying to make excuses; I'm just trying to paint a picture of what it's like as an American in Baghdad.

...BC gets back from leave in about five days, by the way, so if you're bored with my posts, relief is on its way.

2005-03-19T10:38:00.000+03:00

Tired heroes... The men of the Iraqi Commandos.

More Iraqi Courage

2005-03-15T13:54:00.000+03:00

As I mentioned in my last post, my friend General Ashraf's son was kidnapped and held for ransom, with constant threats to his life and his health. The kidnappers called regularly with threats and ultimatums. Ashraf, in turn, called his friend Colonel Hassan often, and as I passed by on one occasion I could hear his sobs on the other end of the phone.

One time the kidnappers called up, and said "We want more money or we will kill your son."

Ashraf pleaded: "Please, I'm not a rich man, I don't have much money. You can take everything I have, just give me back my son."

"No. What you have is not enough. If you don't get more, we will take your son to Ramadi and videotape his beheading."

"Fine. Take my son to Ramadi. Cut of his head. I will take all the money I have collected for his ransom and use it to throw a big party after his funeral."

This bold reply caught the kidnappers off guard. There was a pause, then "uh, we'll call you back later." <>.

Two days later Ashraf's son was released.

-----------

On an average week I make at least one, and sometimes two, trips out of Baghdad on a helicopter. It's become almost as repetitive as a commute in the US used to be. But of course I realize that's a result of my skewed perception of reality. When flying so low you have to climb over palm trees is just the irritant of a weekly commute, things aren't normal.

One of my observations is this: what is it about the genetics of cows versus sheep that makes one animal stand still and another break and run as a helicopter flies ten feet overhead? Cows, even in herds, just stand there munching away on the grass, not caring what's going on above their heads. Flocks of sheep, on the other hand, immediately take off, running across field and road for all they are worth.

It must be a major irritant to shepherds on regularly-traveled flight paths. On my outward trip yesterday we crossed over a flock of sheep as they were being herded down a narrow lane. They immediately abandoned their shepherd and took off cross country, he chasing after them as fast as he could, waving an angry fist in the air. I'm sure it wasn't funny at all for him, but I did have to grin to myself.

On the way back we passed a grazing flock of sheep in the same area. Amidst the sea of white was their shepherdess, a girl perhaps 14 years old, in the crimson and purple robes that are common for young females in many of the rural areas of Iraq. Well, naturally, the sheep took off at the first whir of our rotors. Amidst this stampede the girl paid no notice to her flock. Instead she bent down, picked up a rock, and hurled it at the helicopter with all her might, frustration and anger evident.

I'm not trying to draw any lessons. We need to get around the country, and to do so we need to fly low. And the most common response to the helicopters are waves and thumbs up. Sometimes children chase the choppers in hope of candy falling from the sky – a not uncommon occurrence.

Still, I'd be interested in a survey comparing attitudes towards the Coalition of sheep farmers versus the rest of agricultural Iraqis.