Baghdad
Journal



My Baghdad Journal
6 May 2008: I was on vacation in New Zealand for a couple weeks and took the time to walk the dogs daily around the property and give them max quality time around my
chores.  Had a development where the neighborhood free-roam chickens would come on the property and pack around just outside the five-foot wooden fence we
constructed around the immediate yard to keep the dogs safe.  This intrusion by the chickens aggravated the doggies to no end. You see, they had gotten used to flushing
out a pheasant from the corner of the property and now these chickens were equally unwelcome. I mean really, how do you explain to a Bull Mastiff that a chicken is
different than a pheasant?  The hares which run the property are pretty intelligent and super fast -- at least fast enough to make it to the perimeter fence with over 350
pounds of determined dogs on their heels. The chickens were another story. I took all three dogs out for a walk around the property and one of those chickens
demonstrated why natural selection has determined the likelihood of who will live and who will die. One dog flushed it out from under a thick bush (I thought it was the
pheasant that would fly away unharmed) and it ran smack into the other two. I remember the chicken on our farm would fly  to get away from the dogs. No flight here and
it ended ugly. Try to explain that one to the neighbors who think our dogs are dangerous and from the "Beast Master" breed. If I were back home in Iowa I would use
these guys to pheasant hunt -- they rock!

8 April 2008: Well, events in the International Zone of Baghdad, since the day before Easter, have been very lively to say the least. The insurgents used this Christian
Holiday to begin a steady and daily campaign of shelling the IZ with rocket and mortar fire. I can't give much detail of the daily events or specific locations of their impact
on us inside the IZ because this would or could aid the insurgents in gauging the success of their campaign.  One major news source article on the internet was titled,
"Bagdad Green Zone is Red Hot!" That pretty much sums it up for those of us located within. Like one big game of " Battleship" the insurgents were calling a lot of numbers
and we sat like the two holer ship trying to hide amongst the other ships on the ocean grid. You call enough numbers and like Bingo you are bound to hit something.  
Unfortunately, I wasn't getting to call any numbers to send rounds back which made this game seem a bit unfair. For the purposes of this website, they came very close and
that is all I can say.  I made the decision to "cheat" at this one-sided game and move my little two-holer around the "ocean" where I didn't think they could hit me -- in fact
most of us did. You can look at the major news sources to see the score of the game as of 6 April.  

I noticed during this period that no one other than my wife, from my family and friends, checked up on me.  My driver from Korea did check up on me and does every so
often (a big "shout out to my SSG buddy in Texas!). This could be a reflection as to what a back seat this war has taken to the American public back home. Bigger things
like Christen the $5000 hooker, Obama's racist preacher, Brtiney photographed for the fourth time with no panties, rising gas prices, and the election now dominate what is
important. Did anyone notice the five soldiers were killed and 31 wounded in two days here. That doesn't count the government and contract civilians wounded and killed.  
If you know someone over here, when is the last time you checking on them? You may want to because there is not always a tomorrow. Not for everyone one -- definitely
not for everyone in the "Sand Box". Don't take these uniformed men and women patriots for granted -- they are America's finest.

The contractors I work with here are also some of America's finest and 98% military retired officers.  We continue to serve in a different capacity to make a difference and
assist the war effort in every way possible. There isn't a day we don't look at the uniformed soldiers, sailors, airman, and marines serving around us and don't yearn for a
quick way to get them home safely to thier families. Our help comes in a range of ways from daily encouragement, sage and seasoned advice and mentoring, and direct
influence on development and implementation of operational and strategic plans, policies, and directives.  We are very proud to continue to serve.  Oddly, here in Iraq our
contractor presence has a stigma attached with some of our military partners. More than once I had heard us reference to as "Damn Contractors", "You are just a
contractor", or  "Fucking Contractors).  Just today at the time of this writing I am here in Kuwait and headed home for a couple week vacation before returning to Baghdad.
I was walking toward a crowded door of a building where a uniformed Navy officer was struggling to get through with his bags. I walked up and picked up his D-Bag and
said,   "Hey sir!" in a jovial and recognizing tone. He looked a me surprised and said "Hey, what are you doing here." (I don't think he remembered my name although I see
him everyday and work with him in various staff meetings).  He said, "Oh, I though you might be one of those fucking  unassing contractors." This was a reference to the
150 or so contractors that had quit after the shelling. Those were the support contractor that ran the maintenance, chow halls, cleaning, and other functions to keep the
bases running. They weren't the level of senior advisor and military professional contractors my company brought to the theatre of operation. It didn't matter to anyone you
talked with a "contractor" applier to us all and usually not in a favorable light.

23 March 08: It has been a while since I have taken the time to write. Five months, wow.  Strangely five months has gone so fast it is not easy to explain. Just a constant
routine of working out, working, eating, sleeping, and doing it all over again.  I continued to take Jiu Jitsu classes and have gotten pretty good. I can definitely hold my own
on the mat and give some big men a bit of grief. These classes are not a bunch of old guys or young kids.  These guys are security contractors in their prime and bringing
alot of "beef" to the mat. If you look around the mat the guys range from 175 to 265, all very fit, and a range of security hair styles ranging from bald, mohawk, edgy
beards, and lots of ink ... I fit right in and really like the challenge.  I worked my 300 project through January and it turned out pretty good (pic attached).  Then I needed to
bring my own beef to the mat so I added some bulk.  Pumpkin pie ... lots of pumkin pie. Pics of my 300 five month workout progression below.












16 November: I took the restricted tour of Sadam Hussein's Baghdad Bunker today and it was very interesting. The superior engineering of the German architect who
designed the bunker had held up very well. As we moved through the extensive pathways it reminded me of the move "Doom" where the "Rock" entered a labyrinth and
battled extra-terrestrial monsters. Everything was pitch black except the beam of our lights and water sat about two feet deep with stairways disappearing into the
murkiness.  What was once a state of the art command complex was now a looted and gutted dark and musty set of chambers filled with trash and equipment far to big and
heavy to loot.  You couldn't help but think again that if Saddam, Udei, and Kussei (sp?) has played it a just a bit different they would still be in power and enjoying their lush
and meglo-maniac life styles.

14 October: I'm well in to my second year over here in Iraq and things where I am have been calm lately. That of course generates a lot of speculation as to why that might
be. Is the "Surge" being effective or are the insurgents laying low and biding their time until the pressure passes. Time will tell. Other than my normal work I decided I need
a new initiative to keep my sharp. I have been continuing my weight training and as a result of watching the move "300" have maintained my quest for my Spartan abs.  
Other than that things are relatively quiet.  For something new I have been taking Brazilian Jiu Jitsu ... more to follow on this topic.

27 September: Today was a bit of a strange day. I went to lunch in the chow hall and in accordance with my daily routine grabbed a Stars and Stripes newspaper and
sat down to eat as I read the sports section. I almost spit out the chicken wings in my mouth when I noticed a story about a "Real Hero" giving the New York Giants
football team a locker room motivation talk. It was an officer I had served with from 2003-2005 (name withheld for privacy but easy to Google). We had deployed to
different locations in Afghanistan in 2004. I retired in 2005 and began contracting. He got promoted to LTC and took command of a battalion at the Big Red One.  The
article said he had deployed to Iraq and his vehicle was hit by an IED resulting in the amputation of both his legs. Now he is working through the challenges of getting back
on his feet via prosthetics. I was taken aback by the article and the "reality check" it served up. Then I started thinking about the MEDEVAC helicopters that fly over the
trailer each night and shake me out of whatever level of sleep I am in. He probably was on one of those MEDEVAC's in an unknown coincidence/irony as our paths
unknowingly passed again.  I wonder who else from my past has unknowingly gone over in one of those MEDEVAC's?

15 September:
I was thinking about my time in NZ at our new hootch.  As I stood in the house by the wood burning stove and sipped a hot cup off coffee I peered through the French
Doors at the cold windy day outside. It was winter in NZ and that meant cold wind and rain.  Then I focused in on the pool in the back yard. The wind had blown the
plastic cover to the metal fence around it and it looked cold and uninviting in there. Why would anyone build a pool out there for this type of weather.  The next day I talked
to the neighbor who said he didn't think any human had ever been in that pool but duck flying over from the nearby river and coastline would often stop in for a swim.  
Maybe next Duck Season I can throw some decoys out there and hunt from the living room ...

13 September 2007:
Whoa, I have some time to fill in since my last entry. Much has happened and a lot of miles logged since then. I left Iraq via the trip from hell and arrived back in
Hawaii to make the move to New Zealand. After a week of sleepless days and nights trying to prepare the house and dogs for shipment we arrived at the airport
on travel day ready for a final veterinary inspection of the dogs paperwork after which they would be sealed in there crates and loaded on the plane. Nyra (my
wife) had done a month of pre-travel veterinary checks, tests, and vaccinations to ensure all would be good. The Veterinarian looked at us and said, "I can't sign
this - they failed a test." I looked at him closely and realized he wasn't joking and felt all the air come out of our move plan. Sure enough, both of the male dogs had
failed a blood screening two week prior that had been overlooked by our Hawaii Vet and would have been easily treated with two weeks of antibiotic pills. Now
we were in a dilema. If we showed in NZ without the proper signature they could impound and kill the dogs or send us back to HI. After a series of frantic calls to
Agricultural officials in NZ they faxed us a certificate allowing the dogs to enter the country and go straight to a Quarantine Facility for two weeks. The move was
still on. Nyra, my daughter Leilani, and I arrived in NZ totally stressed out from the lead up to the trip and drama of worrying about 480lbs of our best buddies
(dogs) in the cargo hold. Upon arrival the dogs were taken away and we were met by Nyra's family at the airport. After a short drive we arrived at the new house
we had purchases without ever seeing it. That was a leap of faith that turned out to be a great decision - our country cottage in New Zealand.















3 June 2007:
In case your wondering what's up here in Baghdad be aware that I cannot be too specific because you never know who might be reading this site. Therefore, my
sense of tedium remains days and weeks that fly by at a scary rate. The Green Zone catches an increased rate of indirect-fire and I spend more time with my
helmet on than I care to.  You can never take this place for granted because you don't know what the next hour will bring.  Attacks, kidnappings, indirect-fire, and
bombings are always a pervasive threat. For a soldier, sailor, airman, or marine, there is no choice. They salute and go where they are told. For a contractor it is a
personal value judgement. Am I making a difference? Are the benefits to my family worth the risk? Am I feeling lucky?   Me ... I have Thick Luck!

















2 June 2007:
As of this entry the home base in Hawaii will now shift to another PACRIM location ... New Zealand. The land of good Rugby (New Zealand All-Blacks rule!),
good beer, outstanding food, and apparently some great trout fishing.  I'll let you know how it goes ... oh ... I almost forgot. My butt will be here in Baghdad.
Wouldn't miss it for anything - I'm here for the "duration."  

300:
Did you see the movie "300"? It is without a doubt one of the best movies ever made to embody the warrior spirit - a sheer military culture based dedication to the
warrior ethic. I watch parts of that movie every time I need a bit of motivation.  Great film!

Memorial Day:
When I deployed to Baghdad last fall I had stopped in Texas to process through the military CRC. That is when I ran into another soldier I had gone to Officer
Candidate School with in 1990. It seemed such a coincidence and we took the time to catch up on the happenings of each others lives during the preceding 15
years since we had seen each other. Back in OCS I had helped her with her Land Navigation and to her I was "Ranger Combs" and I had "gotten her through
OCS".  We knew mutual friends and acquaintances, she was gonna be a Grandma soon, and seemed as happy as could be. A couple months after I had arrived in
Iraq I sent her an e-mail just to see how she was doing ... no reply.  I figured she was too busy to reply and did not want to be a bother.  Sending another message
unfortunately got lost on my "To Do" list and the months passed. Then on Memorial Day I was sitting on my bunk paging through the Army Times newspaper. They
had photos of "The Fallen" and I thought it appropriate to look at each and every photo and name.  It brings home the human impact of those that had fallen and
occasionally I would page through them looking for soldiers I knew who had taken a ride on the "Black Chinook".  In the middle of one page I stopped, did a
double take, and blurted out "Holy Shit!"  There she was ... a photograph of Major Gloria Davis with her big friendly smile ... killed December 9th, 2006,
Baghdad.  It sounds silly but I actually felt like she was looking at me saying, "Here I am - now you know."  Major Gloria Davis - God Bless ... see you on the high
ground!

4 Feb 07:
It has been a month since I last took the time to make an entry in this journal.  Tedium in my daily routine which seems to never be impressed by any event to
include incoming rockets, the boom of the M1 tank main gun firing, circling helicopter gun ships attacking insurgents on Haifa street, or news of downed helicopters
just hundreds of meters away. I get frequent e-mails from old Ranger buddies and frequently run  into them here in Baghdad.  Some are still on active duty while
some are here as contractors - like me.  They departed the military and were attracted by the efforts taking place here and in Afghanistan. They are lured by images
of the war in the media and the knowledge of the fact their brothers-in-arms are here carrying the fight.  Like moths the old Rangers are here - drawn to the flame
of the conflict.  Like moths that hang close to the heat of the flame too long - sooner or later some are sure to be burned.  That is the premise of combat arms -
some may die today but it won't be me.  Today within an hour two Rangers from my past stopped me and told me that the "Black Chinook" had come two times in
the past two weeks to transport two other fallen "old" Ranger buddies I had served with in the late 80's. My tedium cloaks the impact of those "routine" events I
mentioned at the beginning.  For my two Ranger buddies transported from the battlefield by the "Black Chinook" -- I salute you -- RLTW!

1 Jan 07:
Two days ago Saddam Hussein was executed by hanging here in Baghdad. Although we knew for a couple days the event was pending it didn't hit home until the
footage appeared on CNN World News in the mess hall.  It took me another day to make sense of this surreal ending to a high profile nemesis to the world
community.  Bottom line -- I don't like it.  I don't like the fact that a ruthless and brutal culture based on senseless ethnic, tribal, and political factionalism finally
ended the life of Saddam Hussein in the same ruthless and brutal method I would have expected -- the same ruthless and brutal method he used to unify and
placate Iraq during his dictatorial rule.  It would seem we have just promoted a status quo approach to the future of this region and Iraq itself -- brutal and capital
solutions to suppression of other sects, tribes, or political parties as emerging opportunities presented themselves for each sect to rule, on a rotating basis, to assert
their own agenda via militant application of power.  Saddam should have been transported to the Hague and provided a trial on an international stage - then locked
away for the remainder of his life as a symbol of international justice via the world community. Instead, he is now dead with cult footage of his last moments on the
gallows as he was taunted by another Arab religious sect/militia.  What does this provide for the future of Iraq?  Certainly not the optimum model for the foundation
of an ethical and stable form of government on which to build a progressive and bright future ... history will judge the effects of the end of Saddam Hussein.   

25 Dec 06:
Christmas this year in Baghdad was as good as it could be.  I marked the day by trying to take a bit of "me" time.  I spent the morning updating my website and headed in to
work about 1000 to accomplish a few tasks.  Then after lunch I went to the gym to begin my rebuilding project -- rebuilding me. When I left Afghanistan in early August I
weighed 218lbs from lifting weights for two years without much aerobic work.  You don't run outside much in Kabul Afghanistan with 3% feces blowing around in the air
-- all that does is give you the "funk".  Since departing Afghanistan on 10 August I have been working on my running in lieu of the weights.  For the past month, with the
help of my Christmas Nike/I-Pod Nano System and Sensor shoes, I increased my running to 40-75 minutes each day.  With this program I have melted myself down to
185lbs -- a 33 pound "reset" of my body.  Your body tells you when the reset is complete -- your attitude turns to crap, attention span become extremely short, and an
enhanced sense of irritability makes being near you unbearable for others.  Needless to say I have been spending a lot of time arguing or by myself lately.  Today I finally got
to go back to the gym and lift chest, arms, and legs -- the rebuild is underway and I feel better already.  Well, it could be the four pieces of pumpkin pie I ate today - "Merry
Christmas" to me!

22 Dec 06:
We had a Christmas Tree Lighting a few days ago with Fijian Guards singing Carols and handing out Christmas stockings -- it culminated with the lighting of a 4' tree in the
middle of a big open gravel courtyard. Last night I left work late and was greeted with the familiar boom of a rocket impacting nearby.  I glanced over and saw that little
Christmas Tree blinking cheerfully in the darkness -- "Merry Christmas"

20 Dec 06:
On the way between compounds a loud explosion signaled the arrival of another rocket or mortar into the International Zone. The bus stopped and I got off
and ducked inside a concrete bunker with a group of eight Honduran guards.  It was interesting to watch their interaction and the dynamic of how soldiers deal
with the stress of a threat. In this case most guys joked back and forth and leaders listened to their radios.  I couldn't understand a word they said and found
myself wishing I had learned Spanish like I had promised myself I would years ago. The guards were cool as everyone realizes the chances of actually being hit
by indirect fire randomly launched in our direction is slim.  On the other hand - the rockets have to land somewhere ...

18 Dec 06:
Today we took two vehicles of linguists a mile down the road to get their salary from a contracting company.  I stayed with the vehicles while a co-worker took
the linguists inside to ensure they got their money.  As I stood watch over the vehicles a group of about six young male Iraqis were milling about on the street
corner -- nothing suspicious but still just making me question their presence.  On the other side of the street were three roadside shops where vendors where
selling the typical fare of watches, flags, rugs, etc.  The expected short wait for the return of my group got delayed with an argument about pay and I was
starting to feel a bit lonely out on the street.  Then I decided I was likely worth more alive to the locals if I was spending some money then just standing
around.  I could still see our vehicles as I moseyed over and bought some unneeded items from the nearest vendor.  About this time the group of young males
came closer and began to talk to the vendors.  They paid me little attention and then an interesting point came to mind.  If I was in Afghanistan this group
would have been begging for a dollar or anything else I would want to give them ... a pen, paper, sunglasses ... anything at all ... these guys didn't ask once.  
Iraq has money, natural resources, and an economic system.  Afghanistan in its war ravaged state lacks both the resources and the mindset of a progressive
society -- its future is based on international support and the illegal opium industry.  Iraq has the foundation for a successful outcome to their struggles --
Afghanistan has the foundation of an untenable situation of enemy safe havens, criminality, and a lack of legitimate resources.  I am glad I'm in Iraq.

17 Dec 06:
I spent some time today thinking about my books.  Finally, both Black Chinook and Thick Luck are the books I had envisioned when I started writing them in
January 1996 - over ten years ago.  Actually, I had envisioned only one book called Black Chinook but the large amount of material involved would have made
for a cost
prohibitive book for anyone to purchase to read.  Now I am still in the same dilemma. What should I do with the sixty pages of text I have already written from
my two years in Afghanistan?  I am considering three options. First, add the desert years to a revision of Black Chinook and republish next year.  Or,
repackage both Black Chinook and Thick Luck and add the desert years in the original vision I had of one large manuscript. Third, complete a third and
separate manuscript addressing only the war on terrorism.  If you have an opinion just shoot me a message from the "Contact Me" page on this website.

24 Nov 06:
It has been ten days since I felt there was anything worth writing about from my daily experiences.  The daily dose of mortars or rockets has dried up now
since the five VBIEDs in Sadr City.  Now the sectarian violence has picked up and it seems shooting rockets at us in the International Zone (Green Zone) has
lost its sport for the moment. Today five people were burned alive in a reprisal/revenge killing -- amazing how these people think ...  

13 Nov 06:
The day started with a loud explosion followed by considerable small arms fire a few hundred yards away and just outside the gate to the Green Zone.  The
insurgents had packed artillery shells into a car and detonated it in a parking lot used for Iraqi workers walking into the Green Zone.  As always our folks
wanted to go about their business and get to work for the day.  One of my co-workers had business to conduct near the area of the explosion and I cautioned
her to be careful and not take any unnecessary chances.  She replied, “As a little girl in Yugoslavia I walked to school for five years avoiding snipers.  They
only nicked me once (holding up her arm).  That is just life – if they are going to get you – they are going to get you.”  There was little difference between that
experience in Yugoslavia and the ones our Iraqi interpreters described when asked why their people were killing each other, “This is the Iraqi way – this is
how we do things.”  These people had spent so many years at war that peaceful coexistence was a strange respite – killing each other is just life in Iraq too.

12 Nov 06:
I got a message from the guys back at JPAC saying the Recovery Element in Cambodia was having difficulty in locating the specific location for an excavation
of a site I had investigated four years ago.   I can close my eyes and in vivid detail visualize that crash site and the alleged burial of the pilot nearby.  I wrote
about this in my book Thick Luck – The Search for POWs and MIAs.  I actually visited with the brother and nephew of the missing pilot associated with that
aircraft.
This was always what I considered a weakness in the POW/MIA effort.  The Investigation Team Leaders were active duty military officers and rarely stayed
more than two years in their position.  During that time they would become intimately familiar with a set of cases and once they found a site for excavation
they recorded the information for a future excavation team.  Sometimes the geography and season were conducive to a quick recovery.  This was the optimum
situation since the Investigation Team would still be around if problems arose.  This was a case where I had recommended the site for excavation years ago and
had moved on to future assignments.  Given the opportunity I would have stayed in that job as long as possible.  What more possibly gratifying job than
helping locate and repatriate you missing comrades – it was the noblest of callings in which I would ever have the opportunity to participate.
I sent a message back to Hawaii and Cambodia with my description of the site and where the excavation should take place in relation to landmarks in some
photos that were provided.  I wonder if the excavation team will find what I found. – the wreckage of the aircraft and the flight suit and helmet remnants of
the pilot.  This was a man that made the ultimate sacrifice in combat 35 years ago.   He skimmed the tree tops of the thick jungles of Vietnam and Cambodia
in an attack helicopter searching for targets along the Ho Chi Minh trail.  He crashed into the top of a large tree and regardless of the attempts of a Search
and Rescue team to bring him out the Vietnamese soldiers forced the rescue team away.  The pilot has waited 35 years for his comrades to bring him home.  
Now that wait may finally be over … time for his ride on the “Freedom Bird.”

11 November 2006:
Most guys over here will take a few minutes at the end of each day to organize their thoughts about the events of the day in their own idiosyncrasy based
method.  I usually log key events in my head assuming if they are noteworthy or important I will remember them long enough to get the thoughts on paper.  
This doesn’t include the details of my job – those I keep religiously organized to ensure absolutely nothing gets through the cracks.  I’m talking about those
big things that I might want to tell a story about later.  
After two years in Afghanistan, I’ve been in Iraq now for almost two months and have gotten into a pretty standard routine of waking up at 0430 without the
aid of any alarm.  I get out of bed without the slightest delay and move to the far side of the trailer and flip on the light.  After all these years of military life
the thought of sleeping late is only a pipe dream.  Each and every day at 0430 my eyes are open.  Sometimes I wake earlier but never later.  
Much of my time in the rack each night is spent listening to the helicopters buzzing overhead either moving troops or conducting MEDEVAC runs.  Above the
helicopters are the fighter jets circling the city at a much higher altitude.  These are called "presence patrols" and used to ensure the enemy knows we are
watching.  We used these in Afghanistan also with great effect.  On the ground a determined enemy foot soldier can pick his own time and place of choosing to
tilt the pendulum of advantage in his favor.  This temporary loss of coalition superiority is short lived and doomed to failure in any extended engagement.   The
aircraft circling invisibly high above were a constant reminder that coalition technology was waiting for an opportunity to pounce.
For me the knowledge of what is happening outside the International Zone seems far away  but in reality is only about two-hundred yards away each day.  I've
seen the smoke rise from the Vehicle Borne Improvised Explosive Devices (VBIED)s, hear consistent rifle fire and explosions in the distance, and react to
incoming rocket fire without much fanfare.  It's all an absurdly routine part of each day.  Even when sniper fire entered our compound we continued about our
day without interruption.  "Hey we took sniper fire ... I'm hungry - let's go eat."
My neighorhood in Baghdad.
Country Cottage in New Zealand.
30 Nov 07
10 Jan 08
15 Feb 08
10 Mar 08