Iraq Update 8/21/05
Greetings to all from the IZ in Iraq. Wow! What a week this has been. The last time I wrote I thought at this time I would be winging my way home for some training and some much needed rest. I was preparing all of my work to be up to date, my laundry all cleaned, and my hootch looking….. well, about as good as a hootch can look under the circumstances. I had all of my plane reservations booked, my MilAir arrangements made (that’s Military Air but I’m sure you all figured that one out), and I was set to be on the Rino (the up armored bus) out of here on Friday night. Well, we had a briefing with The Inspector General who is in town. He decided that there was an insufficient number of special agents in theater and my training and leave were summarily cancelled. Needless to say I wasn’t real pleased. This training is being offered only once this year and I really had my hopes up to see my family again and sleep in a real bed with a real mattress --- not just a 6 inch piece of foam mattress.
As it turned out, I’m still here although my supervisor and his boss have said I can re-schedule training. On the bright side, I was able to attend our monthly firearms training which was held at the Baghdad Police Academy. There is a tremendous range there but you have to go through the Red Zone to get there. The ride is always interesting. Once I figure out how to turn my camera to video, I’ll try and tape the ride. The stills don’t do it justice. I have to admit my mind wasn’t totally focused on my shooting so I didn’t hold the tight groups that I normally achieve. I did get some practice in with my M-4 and feel much more comfortable with it than when it was first issued to me. One of the fellows that I know who is with Department of State International Narcotic Liaison (and who is instrumental in getting us access to the range) brought out an old Russian AK-47 and a English Sterling which is a 9mm submachine gun. Our boss was having a ball with the AK. The Sterling is an interesting piece and is the successor of the British Sten Gun that was assigned to British Commandos during WW II. This acquaintance is quite a guy. He was raised in Kenya, presently resides in Florida, is a certified public accountant, and worked for Price WaterHouse Coopers before taking the position that he has. He is as comfortable discussing audit issues as he is discussing any type of firearms. Quite a combination wouldn’t you say?
One of my counterpart special agents came up with a great line after seeing more of Baghdad’s finest spots and talking with some of the Pakistani employees that are here. He said “when we were born in the United States, we hit the lotto.” No truer words were ever spoken and I discovered more this week that corroborates that statement so well. I think a few updates back I mentioned that one of our guys, Chris, is about 6’8” and tips the scale at close to 400 lbs. The Pakistani cooks and waiters were calling him Big Show after a professional wrestler. We were talking with one Pakistani gentleman who was just elated to have his picture taken with Big Show. We learned that this fellow is a college graduate and is also a school teacher. Now I know he is literate in at least two languages, one being English. Here he is waiting on tables and serving food with a college degree as he can make more money for his family. His father died when he was two years old. I know school teachers in the U.S. don’t make much but I just can’t imagine someone with that much education having to wait tables. We also met some Iraqi construction workers that are paid $10 per day. We were informed that certain contractors promise these Iraqis $10 per day and then only pay them $6 per day. People like that just make me sick especially if they are from the U.S. These workers don’t have much and to take anything away from them that means so much to them and their families is just a crime. I look forward to hammering someone for doing that. Also, it’s amazing that even in the better parts of Baghdad, it is still very harsh looking. All of the houses look the same no matter how well maintained they may be. They all look like tiny fortresses with T walls or sand bags. To think that someone would have to spend an entire lifetime here putting up with that is enough to get one really depressed. All I can say is thank God I was born in the USA and I can go back. There is no place better.
The reason why I got more insight into Baghdad was that I got my first opportunity to ride on a Blackhawk Helicopter. The ride was really smooth. Of course, no one was throwing any metal debris at us so evasive actions were not taken. I tried to get some pictures from the air but it’s a little tougher when opportunities are flying past you quickly. The Blackhawk flies only about 250-300 feet off the ground. They fly fast and low which makes them a really tough target. It’s really great because the windows are removed due to the hot weather. There’s only one problem with taking the Helo. Once you get where you are going, you don’t have transportation except walking. When you have a flak vest, a helmet, a pack, a gun (and sometimes two) plus ammo, and case documents, that can really be a load especially when the temperature hovers around 115+. Fortunately everything in the IZ is really close together but in the forward operating bases (FOB), things are really spread out. It’s a bit of a challenge but nothing that can’t be overcome.
I had to go to a FOB for an interview of a contractor. The contractor was a great guy. He’s a special forces 3rd class warrant officer who is still in the reserves but he’s managing construction operations over here with a company comprised of former special forces personnel. I’ve met an associate of his who is equally as nice. This contractor has his 19 year old son here with him who is working beside him. His son had a full ride scholarship to a well known Southern university as a field goal kicker. Apparently, this kid has one heck of a toe. However, during his first semester, he falls in love (or should I say lust) with a Miss Southern States Hooters or some derivation. Needless to say he flunks out of school and there goes his scholarship. Well, his father decides a little Iraqi therapy wouldn’t hurt him. Of course, his mother wasn’t too keen but finally acquiesced. I spent about 30 minutes talking with this young man. To say his eyes have been opened is an understatement. He has seen what the Iraqis are going through just to try to make a living, to put food on the table, and care for their families let alone try to bring some freedom and order to their country. He has been here six weeks and has probably matured 4 years. He is talking about returning home and picking up his football career again and doing some real studying this time. You can tell that working and living closely with his Dad (they share a hootch) has been rewarding for both of them. One of the instances that just happened with this young man right before I arrived at the construction sight to meet him is that they were digging a trench to install a septic tank. He uncovered about 4 Iraqi military identification tags and what was left of a gas mask. He was fairly sure if he dug further he would find what remained of these soldiers. Given the condition of the items found, they had been in the ground substantially longer than a few years. They may have related to the Iran Iraq War or they could have been victims of punishment in Saddam’s Army. We’ll never know but you could tell the young man wasn’t pleased at uncovering these items. There is a lot of brutality in this part of the world and as my Dad has always said “life is cheap there.”
I met several new Italian soldiers this week. While I was on the FOB, I sat down to lunch with one Italian soldier. I spoke to him in Italian and he responded right away. Then he looked at my identification and I could see the puzzling look on his face. His next question was where in Italy was I born. I felt pleased that my Italian was good enough for him to ask that question. Also I rode the Blackhawk back with an Italian General and his bodyguard. I should have spoken to him more but he seemed too busy in his conversation with some U.S. Army “Brass.” I didn’t want to interrupt just to say Boun Giorno!
We are losing yet another member of our beloved choir. He is a guitar player and he is returning home to be with his young family and to take a new job where he will be assisting soldiers re-adjusting to civilian life. Our choir is losing people rapidly. We did get one new singer but we will definitely need more.
Well, it’s about time that I wrap this up. It’s getting late and I’m beat. We’ll see if next week, I’ll be able to get some training approved and re-schedule everything. Until then, thank you for your thoughts and prayers.
Oh by the way, I know that some of you have been asking what can be done to help here with the orphanages. One lady that I’ve met is Noha Al-Agha. She assists with an orphanage. Although they can always use money, it is very difficult for them to negotiate checks and I would not recommend sending cash under any circumstances. The checks have to be delivered to Jordan for processing. The best thing to do is to send materials. These could be blankets, jackets, school supplies, girls and boys clothing, children’s aspirin, toiletries, etc. They have children from infants all the way up to mid teens. Although the summers are very hot here (they are down right sweltering), the winters are cold, i.e. it does get down to freezing at night. Also, the Chaplains Office here coordinates with several different orphanages so there are several ways of distributing goods. You can send anything you may wish to contribute to
Special Agent Robert Gorini
Office of Special Inspector General for Iraq Reconstruction
Embassy Annex, Room M202,
APO AE 09316.
PS: Sorry this is late but on Sunday night I really got sick. I was in no condition to edit this or do any other work. I think I’m on the mend but I know I’m not 100% yet. Hopefully I’ll get better soon.
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