A Letter to Friends -- 23 April 2007

Dear Friends,

Thanks so much for your notes. I've been in downtown Baghdad's green zone for two weeks now and am settling into a routine, which pretty much boils down to sleep, eat, work, eat, work, eat, gym, sleep, and repeat. A friend of mine said the other day that he had no idea what day it was, but he knew it was dinner time. That seems to be the pace of things around here. They say that you will leave Iraq a member of the 300 club -- either weighing 300 pounds because you eat all the very good food out here (every Sunday is lobster night), or benching 300 pounds, because there is not much to do other than work and work out.

My Uncle Charles served two tours in Vietnam. He recently wrote and told me about his experience last year going back to Vietnam as a tourist. As I have been out on missions throughout Baghdad, I have been thinking about his experience in Vietnam and about coming back some day and hopefully finding a thriving, peaceful city.

In many ways, it seems amazing that the city thrives to the degree it does. In spite of everything, every day on the streets outside the walls of the Green Zone, I see people going about their daily lives -- setting up stalls in the market, opening shops, walking the sidewalks, going to school.

In central Baghdad, the traffic is so thick, that operating a convoy safely given the threat of IEDs and the more deadly EFPs (explosively formed projectiles -- most of which are imported from Iran) is almost impossible, which means invoking a certain amount of faith each time I see the sign "You are now leaving the International Zone." Those are times when I am glad that I had the months of training that I did. I know that should I have to, I could get on the radios, call in a medevac or a sitrep, or jump into the gun turret and get the crew served weapons up. I hope I don't ever have to do that. I can't say enough good about the soldiers that serve as our convoy security teams. They could not be more professional with us, and try to mitigate their impact on the city streets while keeping us safe.

Even though I have been here for two weeks now, the green zone still has a surreal quality to it. It's a mixture of military and civilian from all over the world, with contractors everywhere, and bombed out palaces hiding behind blast walls and jersey barriers. The private security contractors are everywhere, from Nepalese Gurkhas to former SF guys now serving as protective details. Many of the main buildings here show the evidence of more than just this war, but at the same time, I'm certain that this area once has a certain beauty to it, despite being the one time playground of Saddam and his Baathists. And while it's comfortable, and the quality of life is high, there are remembrances of where we are. Saturday afternoon we had 8 mortars land in the green zone. I heard them all hit, and could see the dust cloud rising up from my office window. Yesterday afternoon about 5:30, I was going through a check point when a mortar sailed in and landed less than 100 meters away. Two people had injuries from shrapnel, but nothing serious, thankfully. My office is right next to the combat support hospital, and many times during the day, and especially at night, I can see and here the air ambulances take off for medevac missions.

Last week I wrote an email to my niece to explain to her where I am living, what I'm doing, and maybe to start the process of her understanding why it's important that I be here. She is a very smart, inquisitive girl, and I know that she is more aware of what is happening here than maybe others understand. I told her that every morning when I walk from where I live to where I work, I see a group of Iraqi girls in their school uniforms waiting for their ride to school, and that it made me think of her. I wrote that even though she is from these girls separated by many miles and even though they speak a different language, they have lots in common. They want to go to school and learn about the world. And they want to grow up in a safe city and have families of their own that they can raise in freedom and peace. Hopefully, what I'm doing here will play some part in that mission. I believe it is the right one, in spite of all the mistakes we have made in our attempts to put Iraq back together. My discussions with the Iraqis that work in our office about that subject are interesting, but I'll save that for another email.

My greatest frustration now is the political weakness and lack of will, courage, and leadership in Washington. I blame those who see the war as a tool for political battles fought at home, where winning is marked by gains in polls and congressional seats, rather than here where the real people fighting these battles are (and I really talking about the guys out there walking the streets every day, not myself). And I also blame our leaders for not making the case about why this is so important, and what the consequences are if we lose -- not because we really have lost or are losing, but simply because we lost our will, gave up and walked away.

A few weeks ago, I saw a picture of a sign on a Marine Corps outpost here in Iraq. It read: "America is not at war. The Marine Corps is at war. America is at the mall". Substitute your favorite branch of service, but I couldn't agree more. That's my soapbox, sorry!

So thanks again for all your notes and good wishes. They really do mean a lot out here.

All the best,

Rob