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12 MONTHS IN AN INSURGENT STRONGHOLD
posted Tuesday, 5 February 2008
I was looking through some old files and stumbled across this rough draft of a blog entry that I wrote from Ramadi around April 2006. I never did publish it, probably because I thought then, as I do now, that it's far too much of a rant, too vague and open. I probably planned to come back and enliven it with a story of my final combat mission or something of that nature. Alas, it remains a musing piece reminiscent of a journal entry. Reading over it brought me back, though, to that time frame when I was nearing the end of my tour. It is anchored in my memory like a shovel baked into the earth by the sun, left there by some calloused hand the previous spring. Vivid. Intense images. This piece is fairly general, but the memories it conjures are not, and I thought it was still worth sharing. What struck me was my fairly idealistic outlook, though I was undergoing serious depression and major personal hardships at the time, not to mention the stress of being in Iraq at all. I'm glad to sit here now and see that even in the thick of it, I was always grinning into the face of adversity. And guess what, world? I still am.
I think by now that most Americans know all about Baghdad, Fallujah, and maybe even Sammara, Tal Afar, and Mosul. Lately Ramadi seems to be in the news more often, but I still get the impression that it's the best kept secret in the MSM. I'm not sure why this is, because statistically we get more IEDs, indirect fire attacks, and enemy activity in general than any other area in Iraq right now. Ramadi is the southwest point of the Sunni Triangle, and we get mortar and rocket attacks daily.Being here for the last eleven months, my perspective has of course changed a lot. And when I say “being here,” I mean it quite literally. If I get in a HMMV and drive for five minutes to the back gate of my FOB, then exit, I am pretty much in downtown Ramadi. From my room I can see the rooftops of one of the most dangerous suburbs in Iraq on my horizon. I could throw a stone from one edge of my base and it would land in the Euphrates.
Perhaps the media doesn’t know a lot about Ramadi because very few reporters come out here. Or maybe it’s because the Army doesn’t want people to think Ramadi is the next Fallujah - A place where we must conduct dangerous, aggressive, and large scale combat missions to bring the violence under control. Well, I can assure you it is not Fallujah. For one thing, it’s many times larger. There are half a million residents in Ramadi. But I will also say that the only effective way to bring the violence in this city “under control” is through large scale missions. There are just too many places for the enemy to hide. If you don’t patrol an area for one day, they emplace IEDs there. When you have a presence, though you think you are being covert, they do not place the IEDs. It’s as simple as that.
We have to flush the bomb makers and all those involved in the “murder and intimidation” operations out completely and then put permanent IA (Iraqi Army) presence throughout the city. As much as Ramadi has become a place for insurgents to stage, train, and conduct operations, there are nonetheless hundreds of thousands of residents who would love to see their city thrive once again. I firmly believe they want peace. I have read their stories, and I have felt their warm thanks.
In the past eleven months, I’ve watched the IA and Iraqi Police force in this area grow tremendously. There are multiple IA camps on my FOB, and they are conducting more and more missions. They have assumed a major presence in Ramadi over the last six months. They seem to be working very hard and doing a good job, but they are also paying the price. We constantly hear of IA wounded or dead being brought into our medical facility. Just the other day a number were wounded and others killed by a suicide vehicle, which is yet more proof that Americans are not the only targets of these “insurgents.” They will kill and maim anyone to make a statement, to hinder the spread of “free” societies.
I am leaving now. My time is done and I have literally watched the sun make its last hurdle over this ruthless Ramadi horizon. I will not miss this place, but I will always remember it. Ramadi was a proving ground for my unit and many others, a place where lives were lost, and courage was capitalized on daily. It’s a realm of dust, extreme violence, and concrete barriers where the sunsets are still serene, but they cast their light over the destroyed carcasses of military vehicles, barbed wire, parched earth, and dangerous men, both American soldiers and insurgents.
I’m not sure how I’ll view this place from my side of the Atlantic, but I do think we did an important job here. Some soldier must put on his body armor and secure this area, someone must leave his community and stand in a guard tower for 12 hours a day, having RPGs and mortars shot at him, and someone must drive around the streets of this city trying to convince the locals that we actually want to help them, not hurt them. America has chosen to fight here. America’s leadership has sent us. There is only one thing to do: complete your small piece of the mission.
And after eleven months, I’d say we’ve met that requirement. We completed every mission we were given, we were proactive, and now it’s time to go. I can only hope that the people of Ramadi, perhaps as they once did, can stand on the shores of their violent history and look forward into the light, at last, of their halcyon years.
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