Cervantes Keeps it Real

So I'm re-reading one of my favorite books, Don Quixote, and I came across this passage:

Happy were those blessed times that lacked the horrifying fury of the diabolical instruments of artillery, whose inventor, in my opinion, is in hell, receiving the reward for his accursed invention, which allows an ignoble and cowardly hand to take the life of a valiant knight, so that not knowing how it comes, or from where, a stray shot is fired into the courage and spirit that inflame and animate a brave heart, sent by one who perhaps fled in fear at the bright flare when the damned machine discharged it, and cuts off and ends in an instant the thoughts and life of one who deserved to enjoy many more long years.

Originally published in 1605; still 100% on point today. Thought that was worth sharing. Carry on.

IBA Kidney-Saver Mod

This post is for all my shipmates and anybody else out there not fortunate enough to walk around our sandy paradise wrapped in the enviable new IOTV - all us poor saps in the clunky old second-hand IBA. I won't even bother to mention those lucky bastard with the Marines and their new MTVs. There is a lot of better gear out there. The IBA is OK for what it is - a Frankenstein system that's had more crap grafted onto it than Michael Jackson's face. (too soon?) It's a lot of necessary parts that were slapped together and rushed to the field when somebody noticed the thing was inadequate to begin with and it was costing American life and limb. The new vests represent cohesively engineered systems designed with the benefit of several years of tragedy to look back on, and thankfully they're vastly improved.

But, of course, that doesn't really concern yours truly. Anybody who has been paying attention for the last 4 months or so has probably heard enough moaning about my IBA here to reach the conclusion that I don't like it so much. That's not entirely true - I am very grateful to have it and as my alternative is no armor, this is working out pretty well. It took a few months, but I got it all adjusted and fitting properly and it really isn't that bad anymore. That said, I think it kind of sucks in a few blatantly obvious ways. With that in mind, this weekend I MacGuyvered an easy way to make a little improvement that allows me to squirm a bit less in my MRAP seat.

As you can see here, the vest as-issued has a bit of a problem out back. Despite the fact that the designers saw fit to include a massive Kevlar codpeice on the front side, they left a whole lot of real estate on the lower back uncovered. I realized this initially, but didn't give it too much thought until last week as I was waiting for a helo with my vest on, a senior officer came up and tapped me on my kidneys, mistaking my IBA for an IOTV and trying to let me know that its back flap had become tucked up in the vest. When I let him know that I don't have a back flap, nor do I have an IOTV, he became very concerned and talked to me for a while about the dangers of shrapnel as related to my extremely vulnerable kidneys and spine (without offering a solution to make me feel better about the situation - thanks a lot sir) and advised I find a way to solve that problem.

When I got back from my trip and had some time to think, I realized we were issued a pretty handy solution. If you go back to my FT Jackson posts, you'll see everybody wearing these big goofy shoulder protectors that are summarily ditched upon arrival in Kuwait. As we have to turn all our crap back in when we leave, though, we're still carrying around all the stuff we knew we wouldn't need (all 4 sea bags full of it - too much is better than not enough I suppose). So I realize I've got three square feet of Kevlar sitting in my closet. Ever the dissector and destroyer of my toys (to this day I regret taking apart the BB gun my parents gave me for my birthday in 4th grade... but I've learned. I'm better now. I CAN put stuff back together... I can also afford new stuff. Either way, I win), I set about figuring a way to put it to good use and keep a little more of my body from getting perforated if possible. Turns out there's a really easy fix to get a lot more protection on your lower back.

What you'll need - about three feet of 550 cord, a knife to cut it, and one shoulder protector (or both, if you want to double-up. I used one and it's comfortable. Two might be a squeeze - you'll see why). I tried to find a way to use the massive amount of velco on the shoulder protectors to make this a more easily removable mod, but I couldn't figure it out. Luckily there are MOLLE straps on both sides that work just fine with 550 cord - you could probably also use Malice clips or D rings if you want, but that seems like it would turn out a little awkward to me.

I've used the my mastery of the magic of Photoshop CS4 to highlight the MOLLE points you want to work with in blue below.



Open up your vest and lay it out flat with the interior facing up. Place the shoulder protector inside it, flat end toward the bottom of the vest and exterior side down, positioning it such that the bottom of the protector extends about 4-6 inches below the bottom of the back SAPI plate. Mine looks like this:


You probably won't need all three feet of cord, but it's better to err on the long side as you can always go shorter - no so much, the other direction. You'll need to cut two equal length pieces of about 10 inches and another two of about 5. On the inside of the vest, reach up under the neck guard and locate the two MOLLE points used to attach it to the back panel of the vest. Run both of the long cords from the interior of the shoulder guard up through that point - make sure it's the anchor point on the vest and not the similar looking neck guard strap already passing through it - and back down to make a loop. Adjust up or down to set the amount you want the guard to extend below the back plate, and tie both off, making sure to at least triple knot it - 550 cord is slippery and can pull loose if not tied properly. Finished product looks like this:


Next flip the whole vest over and find outboard loop of the upper MOLLE point on the exterior of the shoulder guard and line it up with the last, lowest outboard loop on the back of the vest before you hit the side SAPI carrier straps. Tie two more loops with the short cords securing the guard in place, and you're good to go. Should look like this:


Too easy.

Sure you're out a shoulder guard, but in 4 months in this country I've seen about three people actually wear them, which means you probably aren't making a sacrifice. Plus, given the choice between a limb and a vital organ, I'll take amputee. I'm confident that the prosthetics industry is not far from being able to make me into Bionic Commando, which might be cooler than my real arms anyway. Do it.


Finished product extends 9mm/shrapnel protection over your lower back.

Before.

After.

The wall.

I think I've hit it. That point in the deployment where everything that used to be new and exciting has lost it's luster, work is no longer interesting, and the days drag like never before. Pretty much there. A lot has been going on in the detainee ops world that has made my life very, very unpleasant as work becomes more tedious file managing and less anything that resembles something stimulating.

Probably a factor in my non-blogging of late. I'm not really looking to air my grievances in a public forum, and grievances are about all that have been worked up over the last two months. I can't even discuss the details that would make any of it comprehensible.... which complicates writing a public blog about my life here, as you can imagine. Oh well... might as well stick to the play-by-play. Recent events include:

Baghdad - spent 8 days (that were supposed to be 2) on beautiful FOB Cropper, part of the VBC next to Baghdad International Airport, home to one of our last remaining detainee internment facilities. It's an interesting place, but typical VBC in its overcrowded ugliness and laughable asinine tension. Senior enlisted without enough work to do prowl the streets hunting for soldiers with their glow-belts on over the wrong shoulder - what could be WORSE in a war zone than a uniform violation? Nothing on Cropper, that's for sure. I had some good times with my buddies who are working there, but getting stuck again sucked and in general I try to spend as little time with insurgents, in prison or out, as I can. So my Cropper days ended as soon as the dust settled.

And speaking of the dust - if I can get away with saying this and not jinxing us, the dusty season appears to have past. I've been able to see the stars at night for two weeks straight now and I haven't had to spit out mud after walking up to a mile, which is a good measure of air quality here. In fact, I think a mudless mile is the gold standard. We're clear. Unfortunately that also means it's hotter. Confirmed 125 degrees a few days ago. You get used to it though... it's really bizarre. I think it's a combination of having to wear excessive clothing everywhere and knowing that no matter how uncomfortable you are, no one cares and you can't avoid it so it's not even worth getting spun up about. Just go about your business. It's hot. And?

Tikrit - though COB Speicher is just outside of Tikrit, we don't exactly wander into town for drinks on the weekend. I managed to work my way onto the manifest for a mission into town to meet with the chief judge of Salah Ad Din province to discuss investigations and other issues associated with my mission. It was a great trip and the court was truly impressive - I have to say they run a more professional and advanced operation here than even CCCI in Baghdad, which is considered by most here to be the flagship judicial body.... probably because we made it a few years ago and nobody wants to admit we have an ugly baby. The court in Tikrit actually has copies of the Bible and the Torah for witnesses to swear on. Pretty enlightened by middle-eastern standards. I doubt you'll find something like that in some of the more advanced countries in this part of the world.

Mosul - This was my most recent little jaunt, just taking place yesterday. I flew up to go on a similar mission into town to meet with the chief judge of Ninewa province, only to find that the passenger capacity had been reduced and I didn't make the cut. This information was relayed to me several minutes after we landed... and was apparently known to people I work with on Speicher several DAYS before we took off. Thanks guys. Regardless of the total flop there, it was good to get off Speicher again and see a new base. FOB Marez/Diamondback is the base complex there, and it sits on a hill on the southwest side of the city overlooking all of Mosul. I didn't take any pictures... I was a little to tired and heated about getting bumped from the mission to motivate for some tourism, but now I'm regretting it. Mosul is a lot cooler looking than the desert here. Much more topography - there are a lot of hills and even a mountain or two, and a big river (Tigris?) going through the middle of the city. As my shipmate here before me put it "Mosul looks like I pictured the Bible." He's actually right - Mosul is apparently the biblical city of Ninevah (hence Ninewah province - don't know why the city name changed).

The base sits right up against the edge of the city... pretty much in it, although now that we're "out of the cities" I guess I just have to adjust my definition of city limits. I always thought a spot surrounded on 4 sides by city was actually in the city, but you know I was wrong on that one. Just over the wall from where I stayed was a huge mosque, and during the evening call to prayer they had what sounded like 4 or 5 guys going absolutely nuts singing on the loudspeaker for about 45 minutes. Ramadan just started, so I imagine they up the ante a bit. It was pretty surreal to hear that going on and look out over the city as the sun set. I walked out to the wire and just stood there appreciating it for a while.

I do have a good story that developed recently. I won't say where or when for operational safety, but I was out with one of our civilian investigators going to meet with some Iraqi investigators sent out by the central government to work in the provinces - kind of like FBI types in the US. I didn't know we were going to be leaving the base, as we were driving a civilian SUV with no armor, we were in soft uniforms, and it was just me, him, and our interpreter.

As we get close to one of the gates, he pulls out a magazine and puts it in his weapon. "Are we going amber?" I say. (The Army doesn't use the term "yellow," but applies colors to describe weapon state, whereas USN/USMC use numbers. A Green weapon is unloaded, an Amber weapon has a magazine in it, and a Red weapon has a round chambered ready to fire - depending on your circumstances, you adjust weapon posture accordingly - on base you're usually Green) "You should probably go red," he tells me as he racks his slide and chambers a round. Somewhat shocked, I realize he's driven us straight off the base and we're out in town in a damn Mitsubishi by ourselves. I quickly follow suit with my weapon and politely inquire what the game plan is, and points to a building just a few hundred meters away... next to the two large piles of rubble that used to be buildings until a VBIED leveled them a few weeks ago. Turns out the area is actually an Iraqi facility and the road is... kind of secured, but it's definitely not my ideal way to travel.

So we get down to the building and go inside, and it's a typical Iraqi security force facility. Tons of dudes milling about in various states of undress, some sleeping on the ubiquitous office beds (work day ends at 2pm, then it's nap time. Not kidding.), all manner of unidentifiable schmeg staining the walls and floor, smells like an unwashed jock strap. Good times. We meet with an Iraqi Colonel for a while and talk to him about his cases, security in the city, etc. and we come upon the subject of Explosive Ordnance Disposal. The Iraqi approach to EOD tends to be very different than our extremely professional technical methods. When Iraqis find an IED or unexploded ordnance, they have a habit of just shooting at it until it explodes and calling it a day. Sometimes they clear civilians from the area before they do this, sometimes they don't. Sometimes they use rifles from afar, sometimes they use pistols, necessarily very close. Sometimes they just pick the damn things up and start pulling wires out. I think it goes without saying that this results in a lot of unnecessary death and dismemberment.

So they dude is telling us that his guys just found an IED outside the building and they didn't shoot it, so he wants EOD to come over and render it safe and take some pictures. We're totally excited at this point because this represents a pretty huge breakthrough in terms of safety and professional investigative methods, so we quickly agree and get down to details.

We ask how big it is. He draws a roughly ice chest sized box with his hands, which is typical. We ask what it looks like. It's insulating foam painted to look like cement with a bunch of mortar rounds inside - also standard. This is going somewhere, very good work we tell him. Now for the big money - where is it? He gestures off to his 7 o'clock and says something, and our interpreter looks a little confused, so they go back and forth a bit and finally the terp looks at us and says "It's here." Here? What do you mean, here? They go back and forth some more in Arabic and our terp finally squirms a bit and gives us the details.

They have a large, intact IED in a closet down the hall. The Colonel assured us it was cool because he had someone watching it -literally a kid in man-capris sitting on a stool outside the door.

This is the part where we freaked out a bit. Appearances and relationships are big here and we couldn't really run away without offending the guy, so we grabbed one of his officers and made some big deal about needing to bring him back to the base to make copies of a case file before everybody quit for the day, and then it was time to GTFO.


Solid afternoon.

LTG Black, Judge Advocate General of the Army. Awesome guy - smoked a cigar, offered me a job, and posed for this glamor shot.

GEN Petraeus - Kind of a big deal. Leather bound books, rich mahogany... you know the deal.

Baghdad's northern suburbs, coming in from Taji.

Very big man in a very small car.

Predator predating over the range on Speicher.

Home on the range.

The old boss with the new boss. I think Saddam's Heisman is a little more convincing.

The old Bait & Switch...

I know, I know. I totally jerked you all around. Talked real big about taking you on my adventures, teased you with crappy videos from my camera, and promised the world in a pretty little digital bundle... only to drop off the grid for a month and a half and leave everybody hanging.

I'm sorry.

I can change.

I can be better if you just give me another chance.

Anyway, a lot has been going on and I've literally lacked the energy to put together anything worthwhile. In the last month I've been to Baghdad again, and true to form I got stuck - set a new record by quadrupling my intended trip length. Dealt with some serious drama in the office (not of my doing, of course. I'm a well behaved young man.) Met two Generals with a total of 7 stars between them, one of whom offered me a job in Army Special Forces (I said no - extremely tempting, but I'm too partial to the beach - holding out for a Naval Special Warfare gig), took over all TF 134 MND-N operations as my shipmate here has redeployed, bought a hookah from some real live Iraqis, and secured an extension of my tour that will keep me in place another 6 weeks.

So a lot has been happening. Good and bad - some I will talk about, some I will choose not to, but I promise great detail and of course pictures... just not tonight. For I am le tired, and I have to be up at 0230 (4 hours from now) to pick up some distinguished visitors from the helo pad, so tomorrow is going to suck enough without me ranting and cropping pictures for hours.

Also, there will be a monumental camel spider update.


So with that, I bid you adieu for the evening and leave you in the capable hands of the governor of my great State, who, as you can see, is quite conspicuously awesome.

Fine Cinema

As promised:

Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch...

Hey strangers! Please accept my apologies for the long absence – as predicted free time has become a precious commodity and I’ve been using most of mine lately to sleep. Since my last post I took another trip and of course promptly got stuck due to the nastiest sand storm we’ve had here so far. My stay wound up lasting twice as long as intended again, and although it was shorter than my trip to CCCI, it was much more operational in nature and a lot dirtier, so you can imagine the corresponding increase in hobo-power I experienced. Finally got a ride home in a General’s helo after they dropped the big dog off – video of that to come if Youtube will ever cooperate.

My fellow 25ID Navy JAG and I headed down to FOB Warhorse just outside the city of Baqubah, home of the 1^st Brigade Stryker Combat Team and one of our four investigative task forces. Our goal was to get out in Baqubah with our MA’s and investigators for a few days to meet with the local Iraqi Police and get some face time with a local judge to try and get some local national assistance with investigations. Baqubah is in Diyala province, which begins in the suburbs northeast of Baghdad and runs all the way to the border with Iran. It’s a pretty extreme ethnic melting pot and as you can imagine it’s been the site of a great deal of ethnic and sectarian violence in the last few years. Things have calmed down significantly since the peak of nastiness about two years ago, but it’s still a very unstable area.

As bases here go, Warhorse is a completely different animal than I’m accustomed to. When I arrived on Speicher, I found it to be refreshingly distant from the flagpole at VBC/IZ and a lot more focused on operations, but it’s still a division level HQ and the perspective here is accordingly wide-angle. Warhorse is the real deal. It’s not as raw as the really compact battalion and below level bases you’ll find inside the cities (for a few more days anyway), but it’s been at the tip of the spear for a long time and you can definitely tell they live life differently down there. IDF is an ever present threat and kinetic operations are just a few minutes’ drive away in Baqubah proper. I’ve been wishing for an experience more “real” than you’ll find on VBC, and I got it. And you know what they say about getting what you wish for…

We headed out on two missions with the local Police Transition Team (PTT – pronounced “pit”). These teams have worked since the beginning of our reconstruction efforts to equip and train the Iraqi Police at all levels. I got my first exposure to the PTT mission back in DC through several of my PEB clients who had received disabling injuries in the line of duty here. Not fun work, but very important. The Diyala Provincial team we rolled with were awesome – utterly professional and very serious about their mission, but at the same time very welcoming of us legal weenies trying to help in our way. We spent two full days at an IP station in Baqubah meeting with the police, and eventually an extremely elusive judge (judges are prime targets here – can’t blame the guy for keeping a low profile) trying to get some investigative and judicial assistance on cases we’re pushing out to them. I don’t know how successful we were. This is a hard culture for a foreigner to do business in and our fiscal rules hinder us from doing business in the traditional Iraqi manner. We got some face time and raised awareness though, and that seems to be a first… sooooo…. Hooyah progress.

At any rate I’ve got two real live outside-the-wire missions under my belt and my convoy count is steadily rising – for anybody keeping score I guess that means I’m really living the dream. Many more to come, including Mosul later this summer which will be a real challenge due to the security situation there. I’m enjoying myself immensely and I’m doing things that I’m sure I’ll look back on years from now in sheer amazement. I keep having these moments of miniature revelation in which I feel like I’m waking up from a dream, take a look around and think to myself “holy #@$&! I’m in Iraq and this is happening.” I’ve been in some truly surreal situations these first six weeks. Pretty weird. Happens a lot just before leaving the wire, flying, etc. I don’t know if that will go away. On the one hand I make a conscious effort to treat everything in my life like an adventure and stay amazed, but on the other hand it’s a constant battle against complacency here because at any moment circumstances can change drastically and we all need to stay sharp. It’s not wearing on me and the fact that I don’t do this kind of thing every day is a blessing for me, but not everyone is so fortunate. As such I view the work I do from my desk above all else as an effort to support those who do it all the time. Guys put their lives on the line to capture the criminals that are only infrequently more than obnoxiously huge PDF files to me, and I’m glad I’m acquiring the real-world experience to appreciate that. I think it’s essential to do this kind of thing to fully understand the situation were in and make appropriate decisions – it’s a shame not everyone has the opportunity to do so. Lucky me, huh?

In other news – a camel spider was recently captured at the Warhorse DHA (Detainee Holding Area – “dee-haw” – mini-jail where new captures are held for a few days until transferred elsewhere or released) and based on information I gathered it seems that water and vegetation are two essential elements to the camel spider’s natural habitat. These things are not in abundance on Speicher, but there are a few areas here in which I’m going to refocus my efforts and hopefully rustle up my amazing pet. I love them. Why won’t they come to me? I found a tiny spider in my CHU a while back and spent a few minutes on the floor face-to-face with it trying to figure out if it was what I’ve been looking for. No such luck. Poor guy got smashed for his trouble. My personal space equals death for all unwelcome critters and I make an example of intruders to set the tone. Maybe I’m sending the wrong message.

Finally - I’ve spent a great deal of time in Mexico and I’ve learned to live with less than savory sanitation facilities. The Iraqi crapper puts everything I’ve ever experienced to shame. Mexican toilets are Single-A baseball compared to the big leaguers they’re working with here. I’m convinced that if we’d brought a ton of flush toilets with us in 2003 there would be no insurgency. Take notes, State Department.

Headed out to one of the gates to watch a detainee release that never materialized. What also never materialized was my IBA, which I was told I wouldn't need. This was an error. The razor wire behind me is it - no more taking PPE (personal protective equipment) advice from Ugandans.

1/25 Arctic Wolves Brigade HQ.

Apparently my soul mate works at the 1/25 command post.

Warhorse CHUs look a little different than ours. Why?...

... Katyusha rockets is why.

This deck was spotless before I turned in for the evening - 6 hours later it looks like this. It's a 20 minute walk from this spot to my CHU. My lungs are going to be a case study when I get out of here.

Two shipmates from NIACT - our 1/25 BITF (Brigade Investigative Task Force) MA's.

I no longer ride in the turret, but the back seat has it's own perils. MRAP's don't have the gentlest suspension in the world and the roads are bumpy - I've hit the ceiling had some rough landings back there.

Iraqi Police roll a little differently than we do. When they say "Waring," it's no joke.

Iraqis are extremely courteous to guests - they employ an army of tea dudes to keep the Chai flowing. The ratio of sugar to tea by volume in the glass is approximately 1/1.

Country helooooooooo, take me hooooooooome...

In strips of about a mile on either side of the rivers this country is absolutely beautiful. Further out, not so much.

These dents in the desert are pre-Gulf War Surface-To-Air missile sites. There are a ton of these and dug in tank fighting positions around the cities.


Aaaaaaaaand we're back. Perk of riding in the General's helo - skipping the airport and landing right outside the office. I work in the building at the tip of the sidewalk triangle there and I live on the far right side of the block of CHUs right across the street. Charming, No?

Back in the Saddle

So I finally made it back to my home away from home. Clean uniform day brings me no small measure of joy under any circumstances here, but I must say that this clean uniform day was one for the record books. I bagged up my laundry when I got back and handed it to the uniform I had on last week and it was kind enough to walk over to the laundry shop on its own. Can't say I'll miss it, but as disgusting as it was I am mildly surprised at how well it held up given the circumstances - I was far less foul than I thought I'd be after all I put that thing through.

My ride home was absolutely amazing. If you ever have the chance to hitch a ride in a UH-60 Blackhawk, do yourself a favor and jump in. I sat in the back row in a forward facing seat right next to the "window," which is a two foot square of open space. That meant I got 180 mph wind directly in my face the whole ride, but it also meant I got a great view of the countryside and some very intriguing things that were going on below us. Wild ride - hope I get to do it again.

I'm anticipating being stationary for the next few weeks and looking forward to settling in a grinding out a lot of the paperwork that our Baghdad HQ requires of all OCI types. As an embedded attorney it's a lot harder for us to keep up with that part of the mission because we're invovled in perfecting the finished product, which is the actual investigation, once the initial attorney work is done. I am relieving the other OCI guy here when he leaves for home in July, so much of my time is spent shadowing him and learning the ins and outs of the division and brigade investigative task forces we work with. It's an involved process and there are a lot of administrative wrinkles being thrown on us suddenly, so standby for thoughts on that. It's a delicate balance between keeping the head shed happy by producing numbers and helping the operators I actually work with here. Given the choice, I'll help my operators. It remains to be seen how much longer we'll be given that choice.

I've been in Iraq a full month now and it's been the quickest month of my life. I'm afraid that by the time I get comfortable and really good at this job it'll be time to go home. One of the downsides to a 6 month deployment. I mulled over requesting an extension, but for a number of reasons I think at this point I'll stick to my scheduled return date. New job list came out recently and I'm already in line to leave my current job in DC next year and rotate to something new as early as April. Amazing how it's flown by. The job I want probably more than any other available to a Navy JAG has a spot, but it's in Virginia. I'd hoped to get back to San Diego next tour but I decided a while ago that this was the one job that I'd place at the top of my list over any other and there is an opening in line with my time to roll. Somewhat torn. We'll see if I'm even remotely qualified for it before I go into it any further - could be a pipe dream anyway. I sent my detailer (the person who gives us our assignments) my "dream sheet" and we'll see what he has to say. For now, I'll just plug away in my dusty paradise and hope for the best.

97 steps to work every day at CCCI. At least one trip up and down in full IBA, 2 for lunch and dinner, and as there is no running water in the building, maybe a few more for "incidentals." Good times.

I don't know what this statue in the IZ commemorates, but if it follows the Hussein trend, it might be for a victory over a foe he did not actually defeat.

The essential IZ photo op.

I get older; my instinctive need to climb stuff stays the same.


Little Country and me about to take a walk on the wild side.

FOB Prosperity - just down the road and much nicer than Union III, where I stayed.

LZ Washington... I spent many long nights staring at this sign waiting in vain for my ride home.

This is why it never showed up. Your Iraq-u-weather forecast for today: 115 and muddy.

Eventually made it back to my little box o' heaven. That's right, 1/4 of this baby is all mine.