In Your Own Words

Perhaps it was coincidence, or divine intervention, or choice; but no matter what faith you have one thing is for sure, when the historian decided to interview with me, he couldn't have made a better choice. I've always striven to be as objective as possible when 'complaining' about the conditions of Iraq, and though I'm not always successful, through this blog at least I have some practice.

The tall, well spoken Minnesotan sat across from me, and still loomed over. I thought that I would be more nervous. Not that talking to tall Minnesotans is nerve racking, but with a pen and paper, tape recorder and journalistic eyes I was nervous at what I was about to say. 'State your name for the record,' W-R-I-G-H-T. The recorder silently listening, but paying attention. Every word, every detail would be taken in, objectively as I could put it. I suppose I might not have been the first to talk about it, but I was perhaps the first to say it. "You're not going to like what I have to say, but I'm going to say it..." The rest, as they say, is history.

I recounted to him to the best of my ability the events of this deployment. From beginning to end, and then some. I tried to quote only fact, and relate the experience to the realm of what was occurring at the time. I didn't fabricate any stories, or events for any personal gain or glory. I stated the truth, nearly the whole truth, and certainly nothing short of the truth. The words coming out of my mouth, I had sometimes said before. I could still see the end destination. The stinging that such words can do now not only on a blog, but in the annals of military records. On the record, for the record. Again, I tried my best to say all that I had, and needed to say. I wasn't going to let myself down, and certainly not my buddies. Certainly not you.

The aid station, the mock interrogation/interview room, was my only safe haven. I imagined the walls impenetrable, and that the walls could block all of the sound. Despite my fears and trepidation about discussing the military to the military, I felt confident in knowing that I could always do one of two things to secure my 'release.' 1) it's the truth, and I'll tell it to anybody. The media is so very powerful, and 2) I have PTSD! Problem solved. I started from the beginning...

December 2008, we arrived here in theater, and things were still under that tone of, we're the invader and we will do what we want. We didn't have to have an escort, and it was our show. We called the shots, and treated things as any invasion force should. January 1st arrived, and with it the SOFA. Status Of Forces Agreement. This is the proverbial handcuff, or the proverbial last nail in the coffin on what we once were to what we are now. An invasion force to occupational force.

Our stay started at a place called FOB Loyalty. It had all the amenities that any forward operating base shouldn't have. The chow hall ran by KBR, the force protection ran by EODT and it's Ugandan Army. It's PX was always stocked with need-nots and luxuries. The Gym was nice as nice as the buildings to be stayed in, and considering the location, in the heart of the city, it was 'nice' to say the least.

Operations in this area started with one of two words we learned to despise. Vigilant Guard. This was the Army's brilliant strategy to helping to secure Iraq during the democratic elections upcoming at the end of January. It wasn't for protection of ourselves, but for the protection of the people. Iraq wasn't the wild west it once was a few years back, and because it wasn't, all common sense, all Army training went right out the window. We had designated times for missions, when we were to be out in 'sector' and when we could return. There was no standard to get to other than time. We would be out twice a day from this hour to that. Not killing bad guys, or even capturing them. Hours were wasted doing 'check-point over watch.' Where we literally sat in our trucks, and watched to make sure the National Police had not fallen asleep, and were doing their jobs. At this point, we needed an escort to move throughout the country, but we were still very much in control.

We spent hours and hour outside of the wire, and though it was tiring, and exhausting, even running our platoon 'ragged,' it was those reasons for all the wrong ones. We weren't being proactive, and certainly not productive. The allotted times eventually cost this battalion it's first casualty. January 10th, 2009 Staff Sergeant Justin L. Bauer, a section leader in Delta Company's 2nd Platoon, was killed when his vehicle was struck by an EFP. He was killed instantly in the blast. His driver lost his foot, but lived. The chain of command had set us up for failure, and we failed. They further dug the hole deeper when, instead of going after the guys responsible, or harassing the neighborhood until they gave up those responsible, they simply ordered us to stay away from the area. To pass our blankets, and not take any revenge or vengeance upon those.

We continued our Vigilant Guard requirement. We continued to go out during the same hours of the day until after elections. We continued operations under a chain of command that didn't care about it's lower level. They sent us out on mission after mission, risking our lives over and over for no reason but personal and political gain and glory. The incompetence was easily viewed through the ranks of high and low, and yet nothing was done to mitigate it. We sat by idly at the hands of an insanely selfish and incompetent company commander. Even though the upper echelon, the Battalion Commander knew that he had a flawed commander in his ranks, and had the power to relieve him, he did nothing.

The mission continued, and day in and out we were punished for the incompetence of the commander. Battalion would punish us with more patrols. Putting us out in sector more often, with less sleep, and more of a margin for complacency, and death. If it wasn't the Battalion Commander handing out the increase in pointless patrols, it was the company commanders incompetence and stupidity that punished us.

March 6th, 2009 my platoon was attacked when a roadside bomb exploded on our second vehicle. Our mission that day was to take humanitarian aid to a small, 'squatter town' community that bordered Sodr City. Our company commander had told the populace there that we were coming that day. What time we would be coming, and which route we were taking. He could have killed one of us with that information. He let out pertinent information that is protected under Operational Security, and it almost got American's killed. He stayed in command.

During the month of April, we finally found ourselves on the offensive. For the first time, we gathered intel, and didn't pass it up to higher. We kept it close to the chest, and bent the rules of the SOFA as much as we could. We learned who was responsible for the loss of American lives, and more specifically, who killed SSG Bauer. After days of gathering exact locations, and names from an informant we had managed to get information from after helping his sick daughter. We planned a raid on this house, and though Iraqi Security Forces were to be the 'lead' as the SOFA
demanded they be, we were going to use any means necessary to kill or capture these guys. Sneaking up on a neighborhood, on bad guys is difficult, because the vehicles we had are not the most discreet. The decision was made for us to get to a certain point, and then our dismounts jump in the back of the national police trucks and drive to the target house. This added to our surprise and when we arrived at the house, the national police were the first to touch the door. We then kicked it in. We captured one of the two people we were after, and the other one we had barely missed. His pants, cell phone and ID were still there. We requested the Fox team with a tracking dog to come out to our location. Perhaps this individual was still in the area, and was hiding somewhere close. We had the neighborhood blocked off, and would have noticed someone trying to leave. We were denied by our company commander, who didn't even ask battalion if they could send them out there.

After we returned to base, our informant called us, and said that he had been trying to call us (but since we have jamming devices that block cell phones), but was unable to get through. Apparently right after we had mounted back up, the individual started heading back to his house on foot. He was in the neighborhood, and probably could have been found with the help of the tracking dogs. We took the younger brother of him in for arrest, and the national police were anything but cooperative. Our informant was interrogated, and feared to say anything because the national police would harass him or call him a traitor. The arresstee would have gotten off scotch free if it hadn't been for the fact that he was carrying fake ID's. He would go to Iraqi court, where he could easily buy his way out of the corrupt system.

The luck of AT4 and Delta Company continued turned back to it's run of low. After getting a new Platoon Leader during April, we were moved from the luxurious conditions of FOB Loyalty and the area of Beladiyat to the ghettos of Kamaliyah and the horrible living conditions of COP 763. The company operations outpost in Mahalla 763 is located in a postage stamp sized. It only consisted of one building, at 5 story burned out noodle factory. The bottom floor was the maintenance bay. The second floor was ours, with the National Police living above. Unlike the National Police of the Beladiyat area, these National Police were unwilling to work with us. They were uneducated, and given their positions based on status as a gang, or mafia. The leaders were that of a group that used to oppose Saddam, and who had a tight grip on the communities around the COP. The level of corruption was considered 'acceptable.' Working alongside these criminals was tough, as they stole food, water, and anything else they could get their hands on from us. We were patrolling in an area that hadn't really seen the likes of American patrols since the early part of the war. The unit we replaced didn't even go into the neighborhoods, simply because if they did, they usually did not come out in one piece.

There were a lot of bad people in the area of Kamaliyah. One in particular who had been gone for some years had returned to the area. Bashram Israel. This man is a wanted criminal by the United States. He has a U.S. Arrest Warrant. He's killed Americans, and countless numbers of his own people. He is responsible for a 40 person grave site in that area. If we were FBI agents or US Marshall's, we could go to his house and arrest him. Since we operate under the SOFA we have aren't allowed to. There is a tougher process that must be done, with more hoops to jump through. Even after we learned the location of this individual, and locations of his safe houses (which wasn't easy between the rock throwers and grim looks of the people that hate us in this area), we were unable to go capture and more importantly kill this man. Our company commander was not in support, because his higher ups and himself were convinced as to 'not stir up the hornets nest.' We can allow them to place IED's and other roadside bombs and mortar or rocket our bases, but when we try and go on the counter attack, we are handcuffed not only by the SOFA that we stupidly agreed to, but also by our own chains of command. It's hard to imagine that we are allowing known American killers off the hook. At the same time, that we are risking our lives to end this war quicker, not by kicking doors down or finding the enemy, but allowing him to kill us without consequence. The politics are sickening.



After working hard at trying to get around the SOFA, and even being somewhat successful in annoying and harassing bad people enough, we had some small victories. Our platoon grew away from the rest of battalion who kept being as passive as the higher ups wanted them to be. We were being proactive. 763's conditions, especially during the summer were not very great. The A/C's kept breaking down from their over exertion, and we didn't have the money to fix them. Our rooms became sweat boxes. On top of all of that, our supplies lines were so dwindled, that we only were eating two meals a day, and those two meals were rationed. Weight loss was the current fad that we all adhered to.

June 30th came and with it, a promise that all American and Coalition Forces would be out of the major cities. It was reported on the news that we were all gone, except for a slight few to help to continue to train the Iraqi's. It was a blatant lie, and part of the propaganda and politics that this war had already seen to much of. It did though put us deeper into the back seat and closer to the trunk of protecting and supplying ourselves. We were no longer aloud to go out during the day. We were no longer aloud to go anywhere unescorted. Our Iraqi counterparts, had taken the baton and were now in the lead. They no longer wanted to work with us. Our supply lines that were already dwindled, continued. It allowed for the enemy, more freedom of movement, and less of a chance of us doing anything about it. For the first time of any war, we are at the mercy of those we defeated.

After proving, over and over, that we were perhaps the best platoon in battalion, we were somewhat rewarded when there was a request for the 'Battalion Reserve' which is a platoon outside of HHC that comes and gets attached to them. One of our platoons from Delta Company had done this earlier in deployment, but we now had our shot. One mission in particular that granted us this, was one of the worst I've ever been a part of. Not that we didn't do our job, or that we didn't do a good job, but the task that we followed through with was ridiculous. We were assigned to pick up prisoners, and release them back to Iraq. The process was sickening, acting like the Iraqi's were the one's responsible for releasing their own terrorist people back into the country. We even had to stop before we got entirely back to the drop off point, cut the handcuffs and remove the blindfolds from the prisoners. We got zero credit for risking our lives for the rehabilitation of American killers. It was the first time in history that we released POW's while the war was still going on. The captured one of the one's that our mission or others like it had released, after he had implaced an IED set to detonate on coalition forces. This was literally days after he had been released.

We had a mission in between the transition from COP 763 to JSS Beladiyat. It was to remove the barriers on the a dangerous route, that was deemed 'black' and that nobody could drive on until it had been cleared by the combat engineers. That's a bullshit process in itself, that I will touch on later. Removing the barriers down this stretch of road was dangerous. Not that it had to be, but we were instructed by higher ups to go down specified routes. The mission time was always the same, and these factors increased our risks, simply because someone had made a slide in a slide show that showed a route, and was too lazy to change it. They put us in danger because of their laziness. It's a double edged sword for us, so we try and mitigate the risk the best we can. Two IED's were implaced on the specific routes that we were supposed to go down. Thanks to luck or divine intervention, both times we were not the unit that was hit. One of those two roadside bombs catastrophically struck a National Guard Unit, killing two Americans. We were lucky.

JSS Beladiyat, is where our Battalion headquarters moved from after JSS Loyalty had downsized to next to nothing. It's still open, but only because of the KBR and EODT personnel who have contracts signed until 2011. Another example of the poor politics, and the planning that should not have been allowed to take place. Beladiyat, though not very far from the rest of the bases, has three sometimes four meals a day. There are always cold drinks and snacks available throughout the day. The battalion commander will even send people over to Loyalty, a hop skip and a jump away but through enemy territory, and down the same route over and over, just because we have ran out of Diet Coke. He wants some diet coke, which is worth the risking of a platoons life. The selfishness is apparent. It lingers here like a thick smoke that can be seen and certainly breathed in.

Our missions here could be considered to that of a taxi or delivery service. We pick up people and supplies from JSS Loyalty and back and forth. We respond to anyone that comes into our O/E when they get into trouble. The route clearance, the combat engineers always get hit when they are clearing. They've even been blown up, had an RPG fired at them, and not returned fire. They clear routes by just driving down them. They aren't a good unit, and because they have no idea how to take care of themselves, they put others at risk. An infantry platoon now must escort them wherever they drive. Another example of the bullshit we've had to deal with all deployment. From Vigilant Guard, to Sapper Guard.

I was asked a question by that historian, on what positives I could take from this deployment. I was silent for a long time. I could only think of all the injustices that came with this place. Not the enemy killing us, or trying to kill us, but from the management of this war that our battalion, that our nation has allowed. People are here to advance their careers. When Americans die, they care nothing, and do nothing for vengeance, and more importantly justice. Bauer and Davis are deaths that have gone in vain. The way things are worded, the blanket awards, and the politics played show us as doing a great job here. In comparison to Delta Company and HHC, we have been the only platoon trying to do anything good. Less than 20 guys make the rest of everyone look bad, not because we are some kind of War Gods, but because we came here, and despite all the adversity, have done our jobs. The credit will go to the Battalion for a job greatly done. Despite them doing absolutely nothing to deserve it. Unless risking the lives of Americans unnecessarily, not being held to any standards, and countless acts of selfishness is enough for good credit.

I invite you, if you were part of this deployment, and have read this, to leave your comments below. Let me know the injustices you faced. The bullshit you endured, and the friends lost or injured that we did nothing about. Let me know the incompetent leaders you had, and despite the fact that they were known to be incompetent were allowed to manage your lives freely, and selfishly.

Anything else you'd like to add?

You have no idea... Just remember my name, and look for my book.