30 August 2007: Joe gets busted by Squeakers

Squeakers the OPSEC hamster is ever-present. I attribute this to his very small size. It allows him to gain access into places no human could ever fit. That means Squeakers can be watching you at any time and you’d never suspect. It’s all in the name of operational security (OPSEC). I believe it was Squeaker’s grandfather who coined the phrase “Loose lips sink ships” back in WWII. Now Squeakers continues his family legacy. For Squeakers, this includes keeping an eye on FOB UNION III. Even a Joe in the heart of Baghdad may occasionally slip up and violate OPSEC. That’s where Squeakers springs into action. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the DFAC, back in the barracks, out on patrol, or taking a shit in the latrine. Earlier today I was in the latrine and saw evidence that a Joe had been busted by Squeakers. Apparently, Joe was taking a dump and the urge hit to pull out a pen and express his feelings. It seems his unit was very near to redeploying and, like any other Joe in the same situation, he was very happy. He forgot OPSEC.

Joe wrote, “XX number of days till X-XXCAV leaves and goes home.” (notice the ‘X’ marks. Remember Squeakers?)

Squeakers the Hamster had observed this blatant violation of OPSEC. When Joe finished, Squeakers provided a stern rebuke. It also served as a stark reminder to other Joes of the importance of OPSEC. Squeakers X’d out the days and unit number. Then he wrote a message to all Joes.

“OPSEC fuck-head! Unless you want that number to be NEVER!”

Remember – OPSEC is everyone’s responsibility! (no animals were harmed in the making of this graffiti)

I left the latrine refreshed in the knowledge that Squeakers was on the job. The rest of my day was a breeze. Actually, I could’ve used a cool breeze. It was hot. Most of the afternoon was spent at the customs layout inspection of the unit we’re supporting. Everything is paved here and that only makes it hotter. A cold swimming pool would have been nice. The Joes at the inspection were all laughing, throwing water on one another, and having a good time. They were all imbued with that air of “I’m going home!” It could’ve been 150 degrees and they would’ve been having fun.

I did get to see something I hadn’t on my last trip to UNION III. I walked up to the fifth floor of the Baath HQ and observed the giant, unfinished dome. I guess it was going to be a mini Haggia Sophia. A JDAM (Joint Directed Attack Munitions) back in March 2003 put a stop to construction. The construction crane still sits motionless and there’s nothing but emptiness where the dome was to be completed. Below the crane and dome-hole are mounds of rubble where the inside of the building was gutted by the bombs. However, there is an open ledge area that Joes turned into a boxing arena. On the far end they emblazoned the word “Hellraiser” on the wall. I was told that boxing “smokers” are held here about once a month. It was a pretty surreal scene. I wish I could be here to see the boxing.

Later on I was attempting to send e-mail but the net went down. It never came back up. That was very frustrating. It’s just part of life on these remote FOBs. Shit happens.

29 August 2007: Back to UNION III

Today marked the beginning of "split operations" for my team’s mission. Half of them would remain at Camp Liberty. I’d take the other half to some outlying FOBs that were home to subordinate units we were also supporting. My first stop would be UNION III. As you may recall, this is the home of the mausoleum we slept in back in July. It sits on the edge of the Green Zone in downtown Baghdad. Our helicopter flight didn’t have a show time until 1030 so we stopped by the food court for some coffee. I then counseled my NCOIC on my expectations for while I was away. I was leaving him in charge of the operations at Camp Liberty. I had a similar discussion with the Sergeant who would be running the computer data operations. We’re on such a tight time schedule that I have to hear from them daily so I can react to any problems that might arise. Basically, I told them both how and when to submit a daily SITREP to me.

Once we checked in at Liberty Pad we waited for out helicopters. We were flying the "First Team Express". That meant helicopters under the control of "The Big Red One" – 1st Infantry Division. Lee Marvin was nowhere to be seen, which is good because the movie "Big Red One" is one of (if not the) worst war movies ever made. Our flight arrived on time and we loaded up. First Team Express is basically an air ferry service that makes a series of stops at various FOBs. Our first stop was FOB Falcon – only a five minute flight. We picked up a few more passengers and then took off. Just as we departed FOB Falcon we flew directly over the smoldering remains of the huge fire we’d observed from a great distance a few days before. It appeared to be a burning oil pit – definitely petroleum fires. Someone told me later that an underground pipeline had exploded. Our next stop was Camp Rustamiyah. This small FOB is home to some tank units. The Abrams Main Battle Tanks were quite visible from the air. The camp almost seemed too small for them. From there we flew straight into the heart of Baghdad and landed at a tiny postage stamp of a base. The landing pad was gravel surrounded by Hesco barriers. I think the place was an Iraqi Army patrol base. We were in clear sight of anyone on the rooftops surrounding the LZ. I felt very uncomfortable every second we loitered here. Snipers could have had a field day. Although we were only there for about five minutes it seemed an eternity. A few minutes later we were touching down at Washington LZ – our destination.

Our ride was waiting on us. A short time later we were back at UNION III. Actually, I was back. The two team members with me weren’t on the last mission here. I was expecting we’d stay in the mausoleum again. Fortunately, we weren’t. I was given a room of my own in the HQ. My two team members were housed together in a room of the Baath Party palace. Our accommodations are much more cozy than last time. We didn’t waste any time getting to work. One of my soldiers set up our computer operation while the Coast Guard Petty Officer and I went straight to a container customs inspection. We worked the rest of the afternoon and called it a day. Before supper we toured some more of the big palace. We saw the boxing ring Joes set up under the unfinished palace dome. Down in the basement we toured some of Saddam’s torture chambers. It just reinforced my belief that Saddam Hussein was a sick fuck.

After supper I got online to collect my SITREPs and write my own. Wouldn’t you know it? One of my folks back at Liberty failed to send in the required SITREP. As a result, I had to send an incomplete report. I’ll make sure this isn’t a trend.

28 August 2007: Camp Liberty - A Joe's Paradise

Camp Liberty is a much dirtier place than Anaconda. The biggest reason is that Camp Liberty sprung up on empty fields adjacent to Saddam’s former palace compounds. Anaconda was actually a base prior to falling under new management and had existing, paved roads and buildings. Everything at Camp Liberty is on dirt, dust, or gravel. It’s a very unattractive place that serves one purpose – house thousands of Joes. I’ve often wondered what the place looked like before the hundreds of CHU’s and jersey barriers went up. I imagine it was just fields, marshes, and occasional tree. Its post-invasion transformation hasn’t created an armpit as bad as FOB Warhorse. It is one ugly place though. I can’t decide which is uglier – Liberty or Camp Striker.

I guess what I’m saying is that there is nothing to see here. It’s not like some of the other places we go where there’s a palace or something. Here it’s just Joes and dust. There’s the DFAC. Over there you’ll find the gym and MWR. You can’t miss the PX outlet, barber shop, laundry, and calling center. Joes from outlying FOBs find this place to be paradise. There are plenty of DFACs, food courts, PX’s, gyms, and other things to do or spend money on. Hell, just today I saw a Joe that had purchased a 32” LCD flat-screen TV at the PX. All I could think was how ridiculous a waste of money that was. Oh well, it didn’t come out of my wallet. I don’t even look at the electronics stuff when I visit the PX. Joe does though. He buys up TV’s, video games, stereo equipment, computers, and anything else that looks good. Tax-free pay starts burning a whole in Joe’s pocket after awhile and he has to spend it somewhere. I must confess – even I indulged in Cinnabon the other day. I don’t know where else you can find one in Iraq other than Camp Liberty. I reckon that does make it paradise.

Walking out of the DFAC tonight I was greeted by a spectacular, perfect full moon. It hung low in the east. There’s a lunar eclipse tonight but it won’t be visible here. That’s too bad. It would have been quite a show. I broke out the camera and attempted to take a photo. My night photography sucks. You can see for yourself. After several frustrating attempts to get a good photo I gave up and called it a night.

27 August 2007: Monday? I guess so...

It’s impossible for anyone to get a “case of the Mondays” around here. We work every day on when we’re on missions. Were it not for calendars, we’d definitely lose track of what day of the week we were on. I won’t belabor this because I know I already talked about the “Ground Hog Day” effect in a previous entry. I guess I’m just saying that if someone didn’t tell me I wouldn’t even have known it was Monday.

Compared to yesterday, the day seemed quite tame. There were no more fireworks, no ass-chewings, and no mortar attacks. We didn’t even drive around much because there were no inspections scheduled today. I stopped by the office where my computer operators were working to visit with them for a while. Later in the day I met with a Lieutenant from one of the units we’ll be working with in the Green Zone. I guess the highlight of the day was having a cup of “Seattle’s Best” coffee and a mini Cinnabon. Both are available in the Liberty PX food court.

Soldiers seem to have a lot of time to spend at the gym. I went earlier today than usual hoping it would be less crowded. I was disappointed to find it to be just as packed as ever. Actually, it was more crowded. I didn’t stay long. It was too hot, stinky, sweaty, and loud.
I guess it’s comforting to know that Joe stays in shape

26 August 2007: "Pink Floyd! I love that guy!"

Early this morning three of my team members drove over to where an engineering unit was packing up their shipping containers for the return home. Two of my guys are in the Coast Guard and are HAZMAT experts. Since one of the containers was to carry HAZMAT, it was essential that my “Coasties” inspected how the material was packed. They also needed to ensure the paperwork was completed correctly. While they were there a Major from the engineer unit showed up and started yelling at my guys in a most unprofessional manner (right in front of other soldiers I might add). The Major was yelling things like, “We ain’t fuckin’ doin’ that! In five deployments I’ve never seen that listed as fuckin’ HAZMAT!” My guys kept their cool. Once the Major was finished with his tirade they came and found me. Upon hearing what had happened I asked where I might find the Major. We took a little drive back over to the engineers. While my team continued to help them properly pack their containers, I set out to find the Major.

I found him a short time later walking out of their HQ. I identified myself to him and asked him what his problem was with my team. “Sir, I been doin’ this for years and I know what’s HAZMAT and what isn’t,” he grumbled. I asked him if he were the person who would be inspecting those containers at the port. Of course he wasn’t. “Do you know who will Major?” I asked. He looked at me with a blank stare. “Those two Coast Guard personnel that you were very unprofessional towards work for the same USCG team that inspects your containers at the port. Do you think they know what to look for? We are here to help your unit get home without problems. Under whose authority do you proceed to yell at my team?” I continued but he attempted to interrupt me with comments about how he’d done this before, was certified in HAZMAT, and other lame excuses. That was the wrong answer. At that point I told him “at ease” (which in military terms means shut the fuck up). I made a few points very clear to him. If he had a problem from then on he’d best come see me first. Later on in the day he took it upon himself to apologize to my Coast Guard personnel and respectfully ask for their assistance in filling out his paperwork. I don’t foresee any future problems out of the Major.

After my ass-chewing of the Major the day went very smooth. We continued with some inspections over at Camp Striker. Since we were there we ate lunch at the Commando Café (longtime readers will remember this place as the biggest DFAC in Iraq). After lunch we loitered at the Striker PX for a few minutes before heading back to Camp Liberty. By 1500 we were done. That’s good because it was blistering hot. I took a nap and then walked to the gym.

While I was at the gym I noticed that they were blaring music from an AFN radio channel – The Eagle. Apparently, it was classic rock weekend. After awhile I started focusing in on what the DJ was saying between sets. It became quite obvious that you don’t need to be a music history genius to work for AFN. “Us and Them” by Pink Floyd was playing. At the end of the song the DJ said, “That was Pink Floyd. I love that guy! Although, I have to say that sometimes he was way out there.” I rolled my eyes and sighed. If you don’t get it then you may need to Google “Pink Floyd”. It’ll come to you.

Just as I was settling down back at my hooch my evening was briefly interrupted. “THWUMP!!!” – with accompanying violent shaking and rocking of my hooch. Normally, nobody ever reacts to this but this one was different. It hit very close by. I stuck my head out the door and although it was dark I could see others sticking their heads out to see what was up. I learned that a mortar round had impacted less than 300 meters to the rear of my hooch. There was only one round though – fortunately because that one was way too close for comfort. It didn’t hit anything or anyone so it just provided us with something to talk about over morning coffee.

Check out today's photo and see if you can find the Blackhawks. I didn't even know they were in the picture until after I downloaded the camera and was browsing through the photos. This was looking towards the DFAC from my hooch.

25 August 2007: We get new wheels

The day came to find my team still in a reactionary holding pattern. I held a meeting at 0900 to plan out some events that we could accomplish while we waited. About 1030 I walked across the street to an infantry brigade headquarters to talk with their transportation officer. I had some questions for the brigade in reference to some missions we had upcoming to support their redeployment. After lunch I took part of the team by one of the division HQs to discuss the same type of stuff. While there we received great news. The division was providing us an NTV (non-tactical vehicle). It’s an Isuzu Trooper. We are psyched. Now we have a vehicle that’s got AC, it rides well, and we don’t have to wear a Kevlar to drive around. The decrepit hummer ambulance can now be parked. We’ll still have it as a backup.

For the most part, the day was spent knocking on doors and having impromptu meetings. This way when we come back the units we’ve met with will be more ready. The word on the street is that there will finally be some containers ready for us to check tomorrow. My computer guys are gainfully employed and have been this whole time. So, we really haven’t been idle the whole time we’ve been in Camp Liberty. It’s just that the real action will start once we begin inspecting containers, paperwork, and HAZMAT.

As night fell I stopped by the orderly room of one of the engineer units. It was a National Guard unit from Puerto Rico. They had been cooking a spicy fish and rice meal on hot plates. It smelled wonderful but I had already eaten. I told them I’d come back another night. I had stopped by to use their phone. They were more than happy so I was able to call home. The phone was right next to some of their tactical radios. Apparently, they had soldiers outside the wire. Every few minutes my call would have to pause while the unit on patrol called in checkpoints, spot reports, and situation updates. Fortunately, it sounded like they were having an uneventful patrol. All the radio traffic was routine.

Alas, it was time for bed. Walking back to my hooch I was treated to a light show of flares. They were coming from helicopters in the distance. I couldn’t see them but I could hear them. I really don’t know why they were shooting flares. It made for a cool night spectacle though.

24 August 2007: "Somebody forgot to turn off the f***ing oven!"

I guess you could say we’re settling into a routine now. That’s actually the last I wanted for this mission. We can’t control it though. The unit we came to support simply wasn’t ready for us. As a result, we have to ad lib until they are. I could think of tons of things we could do but are unable due to lack of transportation. All we have is an ambulance humvee that runs on a prayer. I’m not even sure how we ended up with the thing. It’s still looking as though it will be several days before we are completely work engaged. So in the meantime I’ve started getting around this huge compound to visit with other brigades that we’ll be supporting in the near future. At least I can help them plan their redeployment operations. It’s also a good time to introduce some of my team members to the folks they’ll work with on future missions.

With such meetings in mind, we loaded up in our decrepit humvee and drove over to Camp Striker. It was blisteringly hot and the AC doesn’t work. We sweltered our way over to meet with some folks in a brigade headquartered at Striker. It was a good meeting – very productive. We loitered awhile to enjoy their AC and drink their water. As we were leaving I overheard some Joes walking ahead of us. One of them said in a very “countrified” manner, “somebody forgot to turn off the fuckin’ oven.” No truer words could’ve been spoken.

All day today there was a huge pall of black smoke on the horizon to the northeast. I asked around but nobody seemed to know what it was. It burned into the night. I estimated it to be about 30 miles away. I think there is a refinery in that direction. I’m just speculating though.

As I was walking to supper I passed several vehicles belonging to an engineer unit. It made me realize that this war has spawned a whole new generation of Army vehicles. They all are in reaction to the type of war we are fighting here. All of them are for defeating IEDs. The engineers are the units that utilize the widest array of new equipment. They are tasked with clearing routes of IEDs so that other units can safely pass. To do so they move out in MRAPs, Buffalos, up-armored humvees, and a variety of other vehicles. Attached to their vehicles are mine rollers, plows, drag chains, electronic jamming booms, wire cutters, and various other contraptions. They even have some vehicles carrying giant blowers that are like a leaf blower on Barry Bond’s steroids. It clears debris off the sides of roads with gale force winds. Watching an engineer convoy move out is an impressive sight.

It’s unlikely we’ll be completely engaged tomorrow either so I’ll be driving around Camp Liberty knocking on doors. I must say that it is quite nice to have internet in my room. I forgot what a luxury it can be.