We Happy Few

In an unexpected antithesis to my “Merry Freakin’ Christmas” post, I found Christmas Eve and Christmas Day here in the IZ to be quite pleasant and even memorable thanks, in part, to the Marine Corps major general who runs our Plans shop and our local Catholic chaplain.

On Christmas Eve afternoon, we had a Hail and Farewell, hosted by our Deputy Chief of Staff, a Marine Corps major general. We greeted new arrivals and presented end of tour awards to those who would be headed home in the next thirty days. At the end of the presentations, the general made some remarks which likened our presence together in Baghdad, a combat zone, as this year’s substitute family. He challenged us to look to each other as brothers because serving together, especially here, likened us as a family. He said we were here in Iraq at an auspicious time; the last six months have seen a remarkable down turn in ethno-sectarian violence and, unless things took a dramatic turn for the worse, we can say we were here at the turning point of this conflict. Each of us, in their own way, has contributed. To paraphrase Shakespeare’s Henry V, on the cold, rainy eve of the Battle of Agincourt, “We shall be remembered -- we few, we happy few, we band of brothers; and those at home, now-a-bed shall think themselves accursed they were not here whiles any speaks that fought with us upon this day.”

This morning, at Christmas Day mass, our Air Force chaplain similarly challenged us in his homily to reflect on the circumstances that brought us together this year. How many, he asked, could predict last Christmas, surrounded by those we love most, that we would come together from diverse countries like the United Kingdom, Italy, Kenya, Romania, and Poland, to spend Christmas together in Baghdad? We are all called by a higher purpose in our service to our respective countries be us military, civilian or contractor. This is memorable, he reminded us, and should rank with our collective set of treasured memories of Christmas. And like the spiritual promise represented by Christmas, our presence in Baghdad is the result of a promise delivered in part by all of us to make a difference here.

Merry Christmas to all.

Rico's Day Off

No one was more surprised than me when my immediate supervisor, an army Lieutenant Colonel, told me a few days ago, “Rico, this Sunday you’ll have the entire day off.” Each member of our three-man planning team is to have one full day off every month. I turned to two civilian friends who work for the FBI and DEA and are part of the Embassy’s Legal Attache (LEGAT) office. Their work regularly takes them around the International Zone and they agreed to give me a driving tour of the some of the sites.

We first crossed the 17th of July bridge over the Tigris River to the south bank. The bridge itself, and the area just on the other side of it, is still considered the Green Zone. Local Iraqis who work in the Green Zone can access it from the south over this bridge and its associated entry control point (ECP) on the south bank. After crossing the bridge, we walked on foot through the Coalition ECP onto a walk way. Along the way, we passed a bass relief monument to the construction of the bridge. On the extreme right of the relief was Saddam pointing and supervising to a multitude of construction workers. After walking more, we came to the Iraqi side of the ECP. Beyond was the “Red Zone,” that part of Baghdad not under Coalition control. We briefly stepped over the threshold (but still within control of the Iraqi army security forces) where I leaned over the concrete wall and snapped the first picture. The street was busy with traffic and there were people walking to and fro. It all refreshingly normal until my companions told me a story of an Iraqi housekeeper who worked in the Green Zone who was kidnapped from the very spot we were standing on. I suddenly felt very conspicuous in my uniform and body armor.

We walked back to the car, crossing back over the Iraqi and Coalition sides of the ECP. I made it point to greet every Iraqi I saw in Arabic (Sabah al Haer or Salaam). Most were surprised to hear someone in uniform speak this way and I even got a few smiles which was gratifying.

We did a cursory walk around the vehicle to check for any tampering (read, placement of explosives), crossed the bridge and drove west along the north bank of the Tigris. We drove past the walled US New Embassy Complex which is nearing completion. When complete sometime in mid to late 2008, all US Embassy personnel will leave the Republican Palace and work out of this new compound.

The drive took us to another edge of the Green Zone, the gate that leads to Route Irish. I had been here before on my previous trips to Victory Base Complex aboard the Rhino Runner and State Department SUVs. We U-turned and drove back into the Green Zone, turning north arriving at the famous Crossed Swords compound.

Saddam used this area to review military parades and had it constructed shortly after the end of the ruinous Iran-Iraq War (1980-1989). On either end of the parade ground are two sets of massive curved crossed swords held by giant hands. Many say the massive sculpted hands were modeled directly from casts of Saddam’s hands. Given his megalomaniacal tendencies, I believe this is true. Surrounding the base of each hand holding a sword are littered forty to fifty Iranian army steel helmets cemented in place, representing defeat of Iranian troops. A similar set of Iranian helmets are cemented into the asphalt roadway in neat rows resembling speed bumps which, back in the day, allowed Iraqi troops and vehicles to march ceremonially over them.

We explored both sets of crossed swords and then actually went into the central parade reviewing building, long since looted and abandoned after the invasion in 2003. After a climb up a dark staircase, we emerged into the sunlit reviewing stands. The center set of reviewing stand seats featured mysterious black plastic tubes which split into a v-like shape. After some inspection, I realized the tubes were air conditioning vents that came up from the floor to allow Saddam’s guests to view martial splendor in comfort. We admired the view, and imagined what it must have looked like watching divisions of Saddam’s touted Republican Guard march by the stands.

Inside the building was a large central atrium dominated by a modern looking, but ruined, chandelier. Flanking the atrium on either side were large assembly rooms whose long thin glass windows all were broken. One of the rooms had its entire marble floor ripped out by looters. Although the building was ruined it still managed to retain an air of grandeur. One could imagine important military related functions held at this place.

We hopped back in our armored SUV and drove to lunch at the Freedom Cafe, one of several authentic Iraqi restaurants in the Green Zone. This was a special treat for me; the only meals I’d had in country were provided by KBR at the DFAC. We sat down amongst Iraqis who worked in the Green Zone and ordered roasted chicken, lamb kabobs, babaganoush, and pita bread. It was fantastic. As our food arrived, my DEA friend spotted a Kurdish Iraqi Policeman he knew who had just returned to Baghdad after attending his brother’s wedding up north. He joined us and had a pleasant meal together. The policeman took the liberty of ordering tea for all us after dinner. Arabs drink sweetened Ceylonese tea. I had become a big fan of the tea during a trip to Egypt in early 1992 but had not had any since then. The taste of the tea brought back many good memories of that trip, taken with friends.

After lunch, we drove to the Baghdad Operations Center (BOC), a building near the foot of the 17th July Bridge, where a Joint Task Force of FBI, DEA, and other federal law enforcement agencies work together. It is surrounded by a walled compound that includes a soccer field with actual grass (green is such a rare color here). The FBI was hosting a flag football game against a team of military engineers. We watched the game in the afternoon chilly air, perfect football weather. The FBI team won.

Merry Christmas

Merry freakin' Christmas from Baghdad everyone!

Just Row

I’m getting to the gym on most days; it is a welcome break in the middle of the afternoon. But with more visits comes the need to change up the routine. I usually mix 30 minutes on the elliptical with weights. But in the last few days, I’ve discovered the rowing machine. Lately, I’ve taken to rowing 5000 meters which takes around 25 minutes and is more strenuous than the elliptical machine.

Rowing also has a metaphorical meaning out here which is best articulated by a quote, posted in our office space, from the movie, Ben Hur: “Now listen to me, all of you. You are all condemned men. We keep you alive to serve this ship. So row well, and live.” So says Quintus Arrius. In many ways, the headquarters staff is the ship and we, the staff officers, keep it moving inexorably forward. From our narrow view, we can neither see the ultimate destination nor get a sense of the ship’s course. We can, however, hear the drum and see some of the water rushing by in between strokes.

With the holidays upon us, five of my co-workers are taking their mid-tour rest and recuperation leave and will be gone for at least three weeks, when travel to and from the US is taken into account. Two of my co-workers will first take their leave and then perform a three-week assignment on the east coast. In short, there are fewer rowers. The acting chief of our planning shop, the same Navy captain who greeted me in the transient tent on my first day, advised those of remaining that we’ll have to “row faster.”

Al Faw Palace

Last week, I attended the big New Comer’s Brief, held at Victory Base Complex (VBC) at the famous Al Faw Palace. Saddam built the Al Faw Palace to commemorate the Al Faw campaign fought during the Iran-Iraq War (1980-1988). It’s one of the more opulent palaces and, today, serves as the headquarters for Multinational Force Iraq (MNF-I). The brief is held one a month and provides some insight into all the moving parts that make up MNF-I, US Mission Iraq (USM-I) -- the State Department’s presence, Multinational Corps Iraq (MNC-I), the subordinate command to MNF-I made up of actual multinational divisions (MNDs), and various other commands involved in the reconstruction of Iraq.

Getting there from the IZ meant another Rhino outing. Between forty and fifty of us from the IZ made our way, wearing bulky IBA and helmets, to the staging area near the Embassy and rode over early in the morning. I got another daytime view of Route Irish which now, seemed almost familiar and routine. Like my previous ride in the State Department Suburban convoy, Route Irish and the surrounding Sunni neighborhoods looked well inhabited with a fair share of civilian traffic riding along the route. Coalition member troops and Iraqi Army personnel manned various check points along the way and all looked well organized.

The Rhino convoy dropped us off within walking distance of the Palace which sits in one of the man-made lakes that dot the VBC. One enters the palace via a causeway over the water. The central room of the palace features one of the biggest chandeliers ever built (although it is made mostly of plastic) which is nevertheless, impressive.

Also in the central room is a famous throne, or more accurately, a big gaudy couch, presented to Saddam by former Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO) chief, Yasser Arafat many years ago. It’s a favorite picture spot with CF members. It features a representation of the Al Aqsa Mosque, also known as the Dome of the Rock, in Jerusalem.

During the briefing, held in an adjoining ballroom, my eyes wandered to the ceiling which featured inlaid designs with Saddam’s now familiar initials, carved in Arabic calligraphy. Even while daydreaming, Saddam demanded your attention when in one of his palaces.

Fleece Envy

Being winter, it’s surprisingly cold here, especially in the early morning, which is something none of us consciously thought of when preparing to deploy; at Ft. Jackson, we scoffed when we were issued black fleece jackets and over pants along with DCU patterned gortex hooded jackets and over pants. I certainly am laughing no more; being light of bulk (i.e., skinny) I regularly wear the black fleece jacket on my morning walk from Poolside Camp to the DFAC and on to the Palace. By mid-day, the temperatures here in Baghdad rise to the low, and comfortable, 70s F. The days of hellish 130F highs are still a long way off so, despite it being a little chilly, everyone is enjoying the mild weather.

Everyone, except for members of the U.S Air Force who, as it was recently identified by a force-wide email, are forbidden to wear the black fleece jackets that were issued to them by their parent commands before coming here. Currently, the Air Force is transitioning from DCUs to their newly designed Airman Battle Uniform (ABU), which features a light gray and blue “tiger stripe” digital pattern similar in concept to the Army’s Army Combat Uniform (ACU). Some of the Air Force personnel who have been here a while are still wearing DCUs and those more newly arrived sport ABUs. Regardless, it seems they are not allowed, per Air Force uniform regulations, to wear the black fleece jackets. Such are the penalties for maintaining “the high appearance standards of the Air Force,” as quoted in the email that went out.

The fellow Navy officer I replaced suggested I read, “Catch-22” while here. I am beginning to see why.

Perfume Palace

Most of my Navy colleagues from NIACT live and work at Camp Victory and work in several palaces there which sit, picturesquely, alongside man-made lakes. Nowadays, the palaces function as office space for Coalition Forces. On 29 NOV 07, I attended a meeting at the Perfume Palace at Camp Victory. According to some reports, this palace was used by Saddam’s sons, Uday and Qusay, as a sort of brothel. The palace got its name by those who claimed it still smelled like perfume when coalition forces entered it in the spring of 2003.

Getting there meant going in a daytime convoy, this time courtesy of the State Department. We left in a convoy of four up-armored black Chevy Suburbans operated by very tough, heavily armed, professional men dressed in civilian clothing. You get the idea. This would be my first opportunity to see Route Irish in the daytime.

We left in the early afternoon, making our way through the crowded streets of the International Zone eventually arriving at the check point that leads out to Route Irish. A warning sign, vaguely cold-war-esque, warned us we were leaving the International Zone and that weapons should be loaded. Out on the open road, I saw regular civilian traffic: passenger cars, bongo trucks, jeepnees, etc. After four years of dealing with armed coalition convoys, Iraqi drivers know to pull to the side of the road. Those in the know here tell me Route Irish has been clear for numerous months, reflecting the general drop in violence in Iraq. In the early days of the war, Route Irish was notorious for Sunni insurgent attacks and Improvised Explosive Devices (IEDs). It earned the nickname, “IED Alley” and “the most dangerous road in Iraq.” Today, those dubious titles now belong to other routes and convoy operations between the IZ and Camp Victory have taken on an almost routine nature. Still, no one is slacking; stringent security measures remain in place.

Route Irish mostly is a straight, east-west route from downtown Baghdad to Camp Victory and the greater Baghdad International Airport (BIAP) cutting through traditionally Sunni neighborhoods. Along the route, Iraqi Police and Coalition check points check all traffic. Over concrete T-walls placed along the route, I caught glimpses of suburban neighborhoods constructed of the same sandstone brick so prevalent in Iraq. It makes for a monochrome landscape.

Our trip was uneventful and we arrived at Camp Victory, driving directly southwest to the Perfume Palace for our meeting. After our convoy parked, we were met at the door by our hosts who took us up six flights of marble stairs to the top floor of the palace. The roof is particularly ornate and is dominated by a spectacular, but mostly plastic, chandelier (unfortunately, no photos were allowed).

We didn’t get much time to sight-see; we were issued into an adjoining conference room and had our meeting. When it was over, we left the palace and drove back in the late afternoon to the Green Zone without incident.

Palace Thrones

While I may live in a trailer, I work in a palace. Saddam built many, many palaces throughout the country (I think they number in the low hundreds). Now that I’ve been in several, I can say that my bathroom experience has peaked. No longer need I frequent port-o-lets and wet crappers. Courtesy of Saddam’s former regime, I am in toilet nirvana.

The bathrooms in the Republican Palace all are lined with multi-colored marble and are large - about half the size of my trailer living space in some cases. The restrooms in the north ballroom were made to accommodate big functions and are quite spacious. The men’s room has a bank of urinals and upwards of fifteen toilets, each in their own marble-lined room with an oak door.

That Smell

Remember this post where I said Baghdad smelled different than Kuwait? It's burning garbage, FYI.