Month: October 2007

I am piling on a couple of days, so please look below and above.

It was lucky that I made this travel error.  I got to see an FOB before I was a VIP.  When the captain at the FOB came to understand that I would be PRT leader and not just a member he was a little circumspect.  My predecessor is an OC, which translates to a two star general.  I assured the captain that I was a significantly lower rank and that he need not worry, but I can see that when I travel as PRT leader people will make special preparations.  Good to see the real world first.

This FOB is firmly ensconced with the Iraqi police in the district.  Cooperation looks good.  When I arrived, they were running some sort of readiness exercise and evidently doing very well.   The Marine captain from Florida respected the Iraqis and seemed to get it back from them.  He explained that the local Sheiks had allowed/instructed their young men to join the police and the military.   Many at the station were kin.  The captain compared that to an extended Boston family where many of the relations are cops and some branch off into municipal affairs.

The police I saw running the exercise using radios and plotting things on maps and charts looked professional and competent.  They were neat and their building was as neat as possible.  It does need renovation.  Many of the buildings were casualties of war.  There was a lot of fighting here in Haditha, first between U.S. and insurgents, later insurgents and Iraqis, then the Marines and the insurgents.  This place was essentially lost, but now it is returned thanks to good Iraqis, the Marines, the terribleness of the insurgents and good luck.  

I spent the night with the Marines on a hard cot.  I did not want to make too much noise.  These guys work hard and deserve their sleep.   I figured the Marines could defend themselves, and me too.  I did not want to interfere with their fighting prowess in any way.   

We were up early the next day.   I talked to a Marine sergeant  from NC who told me the way things were in Haditha. It had been a real war zone just months ago.  The Marines kicked out the bad guys and then stayed to get to know the good Iraqis.  As the Marines got close to the people, they got to know who the bad guys were.  They also learned to tell threatening from normal local behavior.  The local Iraqis learned the same things about the Marines.  Trust, or at least predictability, was the result.  Attacks have dropped to almost none.  The latest was a roadside bomb that managed only to kill a 70 year old man.  This just made the local Iraqis angrier at the insurgents.  No Americas or Iraqi forces where even nearby.  It was probably a terrorist mistake.

With security comes peace and then projects.  The Marines, Iraqis and various others, including our PRT, are rebuilding infrastructure.  Fresh water and power are priorities.  Life is assuming a normality.  After a war, people appreciate normality.   

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The young sergeant was truly impressive in his understanding of human affairs.  That is him in the picture.  You can see the real warrior and the State Department version.   It might be hard to tell the difference, but try.

We set off in a Humvee column to Haditha Dam.  There is a bigger base there.  The Marines guard the dam.  This was my first convoy, so I was afraid of everything as I looked out the window.  We passed some boys, who smiled and waved.  I was scared.  We passed some rocks.  I was scared.  We passed some … you get the idea.  But the trip was completely uneventful. 

Haditha is not attractive these days, but probably will be all right when it is fixed up.   The area near the Euphrates is green, with fields and palm trees.  The green stops abruptly and turns to desert, where nothing at all grows.  There is no transition.  It is either green or yellow-brown dirt and rocks.  I prefer green.

When they say “show time” it literally means the time you show up.  It is not an attempt to sound cool nor is it an reliable indication about the time you will actually travel.   For several sound logistical and security reasons, flights in war zones cannot be scheduled like commercial carriers. Besides, most of the time our personal travel considerations are not the highest priority.  You usually cannot even find out the precise show time until a few hours before.  That means you wait, then you rush to some uncomfortable location, hang around for an indeterminate time and then rush to the next  one, which may well be just another waiting area. 

Before someone starts thinking “Oh that is just like flying back home” – it ain’t.  The funny thing about it, however, is that it is somewhat less annoying than the comparative comfort and predictability of travel back home.  Expectations are lower.  You expect to have to move your own luggage and help others move theirs, so you learn not to bring much.  You expect uncertainty.  You do not make appointments tightly.  There is no first class travel, so you do not feel the sting of relative deprivation.  You expect to spend a couple hours waiting, so you figure out something to do.  Some people have developed the ability to fall asleep in seconds and sleep in almost any position.   I can do that.  I noticed people keeping journals.  I do that too, so generally adaptations are simple, if not easy.

It has been only four days.  I left the U.S. late on Friday.  It is now Tuesday afternoon here, still morning where I came from.  It sure is hard to believe it was only four days ago that I was typing at a computer at IIP and cleaning off my desk for the last (maybe also first) time.  So much is different. 

My day was full of meetings.  I am learning more about how a PRT works and knowing less.  There is no plan that can tell me how to do my new job.  Many have been in such situations & places before, but they remain always undiscovered, where past experience is crucial, but cannot be directly applied.  We have to learn by doing, plan by doing and do by … doing.  I have reasonable confidence that I can do this job, but I could not tell you now with any specificity what I can do.

I met a really good source in the PRT leader from Diyala.  His name is John Jones.  I am making him my model.  He has experienced the FS and life.  He has been shot at and bombed near, but he maintains composure – a friendly equanimity – I admire.  What is more, his family used to own forest land on the James River in Buckingham County.   We talked a bit re that.  He is thinking about getting some forest land in Southside, VA.  Maybe I can return his favor by helping him out with that.  

Diyala is now what Anbar was a couple months ago.  It is still dangerous but moving in the right direction.  John Jones has seen a lot.  He told me that we just have to invent, innovate and experiment.  He talked a little about the cultural difference, not only Iraqis and Americans, but also State and DOD.  I took some lessons I think will be useful.

I had an appointment at the PRT Baghdad, which is outside the Embassy compound. Met some good people.  I walked back to the Embassy.  It takes only about ten minutes.  It takes just about that long to drive because of the route and checkpoints. The streets are quiet, since few cars are allowed to drive in the IZ.   It was really hot in the sun, but pleasant in the shade of the tree where you have them.  It was a very warm summer day – but this is October.  I do not look forward to July.  I felt safe, but the presence of “duck & cover” bunkers placed regularly along the road and lots of armed men reminded me that the peacefulness might be deceptive.  Most people think the security situation here is much improved, but they also fear the progress could be fragile. 

On the Embassy compound, we live in a village that looks a lot like a Florida trailer park with sandbags.  It is not bad.  There are lots of palm trees.  I like to think of my place like a cabana. Some of the military guys tell me that this is like heaven, mentioning more Spartan conditions they experienced in the past and warning of less comfort in the future in parts of Anbar.  Life is tough all over.

I was surprise to see beer in the refrigerator at the DFAC.  You recall my paean to beer two posts past and my belief that I would not see it again soon, so I was happy.  But then I noticed those terrible words – “non alcoholic”.  I do like the taste, so I drank some, but it is not the same.

Well, I am off to get something to eat and then I hope to get some sleep.  A combination of jet lag, stress of the trip and busy schedules is wearing me down at bit.  I want to stay energetic.   I know that my experience so far has been prosaic.  I kinda hope it doesn’t get too much more exciting in some ways.  I welcome comments.

It is hot (even in October) and dry.  A fine dust covers most things.  It is slippery with fine dust.  I am sure that the airport is not the best impression Iraq has to offer and it is much the worse for the wear of vehicles.  I expect everything now will be an improvement.   No matter what, it is exciting to be here in ancient Mesopotamia.  I read about this place, the cradle of civilization, since I was ten years old.

We came over from Amman on a C130, packed like sardines.  There was no meal service or in flight movie.  You see in rows along the side, like in those old movies. The seats are just canvas with netting.  They do not recline. When the plane moves, you are pushed side to side.   This is a cargo, not a passenger plane.  We are cargo. Besides that, however, it is surprisingly comfortable.  The engines are loud, but not as bad as I thought.  The flight is fairly smooth until they take the standard evasive action on before landing. I expected a bumpier ride.

Once we arrive we processed through a series of tents and trailers. I got processed in, got my flack jacket and helmet and I am good to go.  People are businesslike, but friendly.  Their mood is good.  Their upbeat attitude is surprising and does not match the barren landscape.  After processing, I went over to the chow hall.  It is nice.  The food is good, certainly the quality you would get at a good restaurant buffet. There is lots of it and it is all free.  My challenge will be no eating too much.  I had roast turkey with rice.  It was very good. Then I had some friend chicken with potatoes.  Good too.  Then I had a salad.  Ditto. Finally I had some cake.  Of course, all this was okay for the diet because I drank diet coke.  In my defense, I didn’t get to eat all day and finally got to the chow hall after a fairly busy day around 5.  

Tonight we will go to the Green Zone on an armored bus – a RINO.  I think the Green Zone will be more pleasant.  I do not know when I will get a decent night’s sleep.  So far travel has precluded that.  

After waiting for around 9 hours at the Sully Compound, we moved to a place called the stables and waited there for 3+ hours until the RINO came.  You never know when the RINO will come.  That is the design.  So you wait and when it comes, you get on.  The chief of the bus goes through something akin to that safety demo you get on airplanes.  I will not go into details, but he tells you what to do if we are hit in various ways.  Luckily, the trip was uneventful and the trip was reasonably comfortable. I could see little in the dark through the tinted windows.  I could tell that the topography is pancake-flat, but I could not tell much else. 

I have already been meeting people who know things I want to know.   I met an experienced PRT leader who explained the work.  It is varied.  We are inventing the jobs as we go them.  As I try to put it into terms I can understand, it seems like a BPAO on steroids with the military, danger & development permutation.  PRTs must dispense lots of money and look for worthy projects.  Millions of dollars.  In fact, money is not the problem.   The Iraqis also have piles of money  from their oil revenues, but the central government does not have the capacity to allocate and spend it productively.  We forget all the thousands of middle managers, accountants and budget specialists that lubricate our own spending. A big PRT job, and the others here,  is helping build capacity.  

The PRT people get out more than I thought.  The PRT leader told me that he gets out to meet contacts most days of the week.  It is not as easy as it would be most other places, but it is doable.  

I also learned that Iraqis are very fond of sweets.  I was advised to get some of those Wurther style chocolates to give as little token gifts.   Chocolate is popular, but ordinary chocolate does not travel well in Iraqi temperatures.  I have been told re drinking the tea.  The tea, I am told, is very hot and very sweet.  Three cups is the norm.  You can usually say no after that.  Iraqis are hospitable and expect to eat more than you think you should (see above re chow halls).  Some people drink alcohol, but it is not a good idea to join them.

Anyway, it will be an interesting experience.  I hope and believe that I will find most of Iraq nicer than this here and now place.  I remain optimistic. Later …

I got to the Embassy compound at night and was assigned a temporary trailer.  It was hard to find it among the trailer park, but I finally did and around 330 am finally got some rest.
 

The compound is an old Saddam palace.  I have mixed feelings about these palaces.  They are indeed impressive, but mostly in the profligately big Soviet style, along the same lines as the Palace of Cultures that clutter Moscow and other capitals of the former Warsaw Pact. 

The green zone is literally green, with lots of trees and plants.  Still dust & heat, but it is very pleasant in general.  The soil here is fertile if given water and not salinated by over irrigation.  This is the fertile crescent, after all. 
 
Once again, I was surprised by the high morale.  I think that might be because everyone is important; everyone has a job to do and cooperation is needed in most things.  For example, we unload our own luggage from the trucks.  A luggage line forms spontaneously.  You pass the bags back into someone’s willing hands and they all get unloaded quickly.  People have been very welcoming.  At the chow halls, for example, you can just start talking and people respond well telling you things you need to know.   There are lots of people who know things I want to know and they are eager to share. 
 Anyway, I need to run.  I apologize in advance for any editing errors I made in my haste.  I have some pictures that I hope to post later.