From Bombs to Building

Yesterday, two suicide-vehicle-borne-improvised-explosive devices went off relatively close to the base. The news outlets put the total death toll of both bombs at around 35 with a similar number injured. As for myself, I was hanging out in my office/berthing hut by myself when the first one went off. The explosion shook the earth, caused dust to stir up and I could’ve sworn something went clanking off my roof, though it couldn’t have been from the explosion. At any rate, it was loud! My first instinct was to freeze, then quickly grab my helmet and flack jacket for protection. I didn’t hit the deck because I noticed that everyone else was standing outside the door to my office looking over my SWA hut toward the city where a black column of smoke was quickly rising. I guess the Soldiers and Marines are pretty used to this stuff and view such attacks as mere curiosities versus real threats to our security. In fact, one Marine told some of our Seabees that had dove underneath a bunker, that they “don’t win medals that way.” (As an aside: Marines can be pretty stupid sometimes.) At any rate, my adrenaline went through the roof and I stayed on heightened alert for the rest of the afternoon. Then, Monday evening three false alarms sounded for indirect fire (IDF), read: mortars. I followed the procedure to protect myself for the first one, but slept through the next two, blissfully unaware. After Monday, I can now see why many veterans don’t like the Fourth of July–loud explosive noises will make me jumpy for a while (and, keep in mind that I was not really close to the sites nor in any danger.)

At any rate, today my photographer, religious program specialist (RP) and I headed down near the gate closest to where the explosion happened to visit a construction site where some of our Seabees are training the Iraqi army to build SWA huts like the one I currently occupy. The Iraqis on the job site were only semi-diligently working, frustrating our Seabees. I tried to explain to them, that most cultures don’t value hard labor and work like Americans do, preferring to live a simpler, more laid-back lifestyle. Nonetheless, the half-hearted efforts of the Iraqis compared to the fanatical commitment of the two suicide bombers the day before got me to thinking. Unless the people swinging the hammers are as committed to building up Iraq as the bombers are to bringing it down, this country doesn’t stand a chance. It will take real courage on the part of the Iraqi people to stand up to the Islamist extremists (many who are foreign) who have turned their country into an ideological battleground. Behind the construction site, I saw a group of Iraqi military police recruits standing in ranks, yelling out battle cries and slogans probably similar to our own. I am not a brave man. I would never be an Iraqi policeman, driving around in unhardened vehicles, wearing a bright blue shirt that screams “target.” These men are the truly brave, or maybe the truly desperate. After all, a job in the Iraqi police or military means a steady source of income, a roof over one’s head and decent chow–enough perhaps to entice recruits to join the force despite its inherent dangers. Unfortunately, the terrorist and insurgent groups have their own enticements to offer the desperate. Maybe bravery is needed after all. I just fear it is in short supply in Ramadi and elsewhere in Iraq.

Postscripts: one of the Seabee crewmembers relaid later this evening that the Iraqis had up-and-quit working shortly after lunch, for no apparent reason. Iraq doesn’t stand a chance!