Posted on 11/04/2007 3:32:43 AM PST by Former Military Chick
BAGHDAD--The heavy diesel engine rumbles as the Humvee idles between a pair of low concrete barriers at the gates of forward base Prosperity.
Four soldiers from the 2nd Brigade, 1st Cavalry Division strap themselves into the seats and sling headphones over their ears.
A dark, scratchy version of Jimi Hendrix’s “Purple Haze” pours through the speakers. The Humvee rolls past the barriers through an opened steel gate and enters the violent Red Zone. The soldiers arm their weapons and prepare to fire in an instant.
Patrol leader Capt. Travis Pendleton explains that this mission is not about violence but winning Iraqis’ trust. The platoon will be checking the condition of water and sewage plants in Baghdad neighborhoods.
“We don’t want to leave them high and dry” when U.S. troops pull out, he said.
As soldiers in the four-vehicle convoy prepare to nudge through rush-hour traffic, Pendleton and his men wonder whether their trust with Iraqis, won with hard work and blood, is spoiled because of private contractors.
On Sept. 16, Blackwater guards swept through Niso or Square, a traffic circle near Haifa Street, and confusion erupted. Several guards opened fire, and 17 Iraqis were killed.
The incident created a furor that has severely strained relationships between the State Department and the military, and Moyock, N.C.-based Blackwater and everyone else.
Pendleton doesn’t have a high opinion of the private guards. “They’re dangerous,” he said flatly.
Soldiers take deliberate steps to prevent a gunbattle before opening fire, he said. “I’m comfortable going out with another Army unit. If they start shooting, I know they’re supposed to be shooting.”
So far, Iraqi anger at Blackwater has not been directed at his men. Pendleton said several Iraqi friends approached him after the shooting, telling him they blame the contractor and not the Army.
Still, there’s worry that the incident will erode U.S. gains in the neighborhood. And there’s some resentment between soldiers and contractors.
Spc. Levar Burton, a 23-year-old from the Bronx, has driven several missions through the same streets. His convoy has been hit by roadside bombs and small-arms fire.
The platoon’s missions are riskier than those of the higher-paid private contractors, he said. “I just wish we were making what they were making,” Burton said.
The cavalry unit patrols a small sector in downtown Baghdad just outside the secured Green Zone. It’s known as Karkh and Qadasaya and includes a stretch of high-rise apartments on Haifa Street.
At the start of the year, Haifa Street was considered the most hazardous in Baghdad. Snipers perched atop the apartments, and extremists kill ed families and set up quarters in their homes. Al-Qaida in Iraq had taken over the maternity hospital.
Now, U.S. soldiers boast about their victories along Haifa Street. They’ve won with thoughtful planning, force, sacrifice and a willingness to engage the Iraqi population.
Blackwater has taken on a large role in protecting State Department personnel in Iraq. Soldiers assigned to bases in Baghdad come in regular contact with the security guards, many of them former GIs.
Army Maj. David Shoupe, a spokesman for the Fort Hood, Texas-based brigade, said the Iraqi deaths have made his unit’s efforts more complicated.
“We’ve done an awful lot of work in this sector,” he said.
Private contractors have different methods, missions, communications and tactics that don’t always mesh with the military’s.
Maj. Herbert Skinner, a Newport News native, is based south of Baghdad at Camp Kalsu with the 1st Squadron, 40th Cavalry from Alaska. He manages the daily emergencies and engagements of soldiers and airstrikes in a violent rural region south of Baghdad called Hawr Rajab.
Blackwater helicopters and the VIPs they protect and transport enter the unit’s battle space and don’t always announce their intentions or follow Army protocol, Skinner said.
Soldiers recognize Blackwater’s distinctive blue helicopters and are forced to move out of the way , Skinner said.
“We need to work on coordination,” he said.
Communication between the military and the State Department already is difficult, and Blackwater makes it worse, soldiers say.
“We’re dealing with two very large bureaucracies,” Skinner said, “and we built another.”
Forward operating base Prosperity rests on the south west edge of the Green Zone, separated from one of the most explosive neighborhoods in Baghdad by 20-foot-tall concrete barriers, sand berms and concertina wire.
At Prosperity this day, the sky is clear and the weather fair. Soldiers wearing cumbersome “battle-rattle” camouflage – 60 pounds of body armor, weapon, clips of ammunition and gear – climb into a n armored, sand-colored Humvee. The cabin smells faintly of cordite and stale air conditioning. A pair of fuzzy dice dangle in place of the rear-view mirror.
About a quarter million people live in the sector, densely packed like a residential neighborhood in New York or Los Angeles. The population is split between Shiite and Sunni Muslims, and it includes a wide cross-section of professionals and manual laborers.
Last year, it was ground zero for extremists.
“The first time I went on Haifa Street, the only thing I saw were dead guys and people shooting at me,” Shoupe said.
Pendleton, a 26-year-old California native and West Point graduate, has been in the country for more than a year.
He fought insurgents in the early battle for Haifa Street, which runs parallel to the
Tigris River and passes the National Assembly and Presidential Palace.
“We work real closely with the Iraqis,” Pendleton said. “We care about them.”
Troops in the four Humvees pull out of the Green Zone. As they pass along residential streets, some Iraqis wave. Others only stare.
They travel against a stream of cars, disrupting four lanes of morning rush-hour traffic.
Hitched to the back of each Humvee is a large placard that reads: “Stay back 100m or you will be shot” in English and Arabic.
The men constantly scan the roadside for signs of an improvised explosive device, said Staff Sgt. James Thomas, who rides shotgun in the lead vehicle.
“If I see anything I think is suspicious, I stop the whole convoy,” said Thomas, a 40-year-old from Louisville. “You think about, 'What is this rock here; what is that car here?’”
The vehicles roll slowly past torn sacks of garbage, piles of bricks and rusted automobiles.
The unit is known as the infrastructure coordination effort – the ICE team – which monitors and fixes small problems in the city’s infrastructure.
The patrol reaches a large, well-maintained sewage treatment plant on the bank of the Tigris River. It once served neighborhoods loyal to Saddam Hussein. By Iraqi standards, it is in good shape, said 1st Lt. Andy Webber.
Webber, a 24-year-old West Point graduate, oversees the construction projects on sewer and water plants in these neighborhoods.
“There’s a whole lot of oversight,” he said. “Mostly Iraqi.”
About two weeks ago, a sniper killed a U.S. soldier at the site. On this patrol, the men form a protective shield around the officers as they talk with an Iraqi engineer at the station.
A few shafts of sunlight allow the engineer and the soldiers to creep down four stories of the guano-stained metal staircase. At bottom, it smells of stale human waste, bird droppings and mold.
Webber takes a few pictures and through a translator asks about the status of two broken pumps. Helping Iraqis maintain their infrastructure, so they can turn on a faucet or flush a toilet, is a key toward gaining trust, he said.
The soldiers return to their vehicles. The radio crackles. A nearby patrol interrupts with news: It found a suspected IED in Karkh.
On the way toward Haifa Street, Pendleton’s patrol swings past a bustling, European-style traffic circle with a monolith and freshly planted garden at the center. Brightly colored flowers and patterns are painted on the pavement around Niso or Square.
The convoy passes through the exchange with no hesitation.
The Army will remain here, where the 17 Iraqis were killed, for some time as it helps the grieving families and deals with other fallout from the Blackwater incident. U.S. compensation has been offered to the families: Some have accepted, and others have refused.
The attack is under investigation by the FBI. The Army has been reluctant to comment on what was found when soldiers arrived after the shootings.
Blackwater officials have maintained that their guards did nothing wrong on Sept. 16 and that they were returning fire from insurgents.
The patrol rumbles into a poor neighborhood, filled with auto repair shops and squat cinder-block homes coated with yellow and red clay plaster.
One-story shops selling cigarettes, fresh watermelons and electronics line the dusty, narrow streets. Men wedge cars on the curb and toil underneath.
The soldiers investigate an abandoned pump house, now inhabited by squatters. Overhead, a man calls worshippers to prayer over a tinny loudspeaker.
Pendleton said neighborhood shops have reopened as security has improved. T here are still hazards, though.
Inside the Humvee, the radio announces an update on the IED found nearby – 4 pounds of explosives wired to a cell phone.
Pendleton and his troops, most with at least one year of hard combat behind them, snicker about the relatively small bomb.
“Good times had by all,” Pendleton snort s.
On Haifa Street, the high-rise apartments carry heavy battle scars. Holes from large-caliber rounds pockmark the tall facades. Entire blocks have been reduced to rubble.
Still, men and women fill the sidewalks, stopping into shops and talking on the street. The smell of barbecued kabobs meets the soldiers as they dismount their Humvees to inspect a final station.
Baker Qies, a 31-year-old Iraqi who maintains the Haifa Street station, says through an interpreter that he hope s the Iraqi government will someday grow strong and independent.
Until then, he wants the Americans to stay at least a little while longer.
“Sometimes I see and hear the Humvees and I fall right to sleep,” he sa ys. “If not, I don’t sleep at all.”
The four Humvees pack up and rumble back to Prosperity.
Back at their base, the soldiers smoke cigarettes and gather around Staff Sgt. Thomas for a debriefing.
“Another mission, another safe one,” he sa ys. “One less day we have to worry about.”
News researcher Jake Hays contributed to this report.
Until then, he wants the Americans to stay at least a little while longer.
“Sometimes I see and hear the Humvees and I fall right to sleep,” he sa ys. “If not, I don’t sleep at all.”
Blackjack Brigade see ya on the high ground
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3rd Brigade, 1st Cavalry Divsion’s 1st days in Vietnam:
(Photo Collection)
http://www.lzxray.com/guyer_colleciton.htm
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Thanks for adding the link Aloha Ronnie!!
PS May main pings are to military articles, if you wish to be removed send a private message and will gladly oblige.
Very nice. Couldn't get that response in a lot of places in the States.
Yes, indeed. It shows the trust between all those concerned.
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