New home in Dora

My original Company, Alpha, lost an LT about a week ago to a roadside bomb. He ended up with 2 broken arms and some facial injuries, but is otherwise fine. He's back "home" now in DC recovering at Walter Reed. Because of that, I got pulled back into A Co to take over that platoon (which happened to be my original one numerically...2nd).

I've been here 3 days now. I've been on 2 patrols and 1 'raid'. So far that has accounted for 1 firefight that lasted a few minutes, a couple mortar rounds that landed within 100 meters of our truck while we were staging inside a National Police station, and numerous "shots fired' in our direction with no way to shoot back (no positive target to shoot at...).

It's definitely been interesting so far. I must say, it's kinda nice. There really is an actual fight going on in Iraq. And watching these young men do their job is a thing of beauty. Our short engagement started with nothing more than my gunner shouting "There's a man on the roof!" then he started going off with his 240. We stopped and immediately all the doors opened as the two guys in the back got out and took up firing positions. Me? I was stuck. The trucks have so much armor that when the back door is open...i can't open mine. In the mean time I got to sit in the front seat calling up the report with an armored funnel behind me. Good times. We eventually maneuvered forward onto the building (right after I got my door open...I wasn't missing that part) and cleared the one we took fire from and several others. Found nothing. It's easy to leave when you have an AK and wear sandals.

The "raid" in Dora market today was the second big thing. I have a feeling the first will be fairly routine soon...but the raid was something intended to be bigger. Gen Casey and NBC news were supposed to show up, but I think the rain kept them away. Dora Market is the place that is supposed to be used as a staging area for attacks on the Green zone in Baghdad as well as Sadr City. Essentially we spent around 8 hours clearing all the shops/buildings. Not nearly the fight that was anticipated. We did take a couple mortar rounds while we were staging, luckily nothing was hit considering how many trucks were bunched together before we moved out, but otherwise it was quiet. No complaints...just a whole lot of work. Breaking locks isn't easy. And my platoon alone went through several hundred. That's a tribute to young men using brute strength and one really cool saw (which hopefully there'll be pictures of soon...).

Well, that's my briefing for today. I have to get to bed...need to rather. I get up to go on patrol soon. Dora is my new home. I'll be spending a lot of time there...

Frustrations abound...

Nothing particularly exciting going on lately. That's a good thing I suppose. It's also frustrating. We keep having our brethren down in Falcon come through and tell us what is going on with them and what they're doing. To say the least they're actually doing the job of the infantryman. While we up here continue to police a bridge. I suppose we'll get to run around a bit more when we do a mission change, but until then it's generally slow and frustrating.

So what's so frustrating? Generally policies we have to abide by. Mainly because they hamper our ability to do our job effectively...but they make those higher up and back in the States "feel good" about our safety. Problem is, we've reached a major point of diminishing returns. In the infantry we've always preached speed = security. Apparently Congress doesn't agree. They think more armor = security. Armor's all well and good until you get down behind cover and can't move anymore. The very basics of our job is fire and maneuver. We're quickly moving towards becoming static firing positions. The amount of armor they want us to wear makes any elongated maneuver on an enemy next to impossible and proper use of our weapon due to the amount of side armor they have us wear makes it cumbersome at best.

And that's the tip of the iceberg here. Things that shouldn't matter in a war zone, things that you look hard at while in garrison in the States, they're even tougher on here. If we still wore black boots, they'd have to be shined to mirror finish.

I've been reading a book called "The Devil's Secret Name". It's about an ex SF guy from the Vietnam era who works for Soldier of Fortune Magazine and tells about all the places he had to go for stories. When he visits Israel he notices something interesting things. The soldiers, although some of the best in the world, look in shambles. Long, unkempt hair. Unshaven. Boots and uniforms dirty. But their weapons are immaculate. They were worried about the things that mattered for the job at hand. Tactics. Training. Weapons handling. They didn't care about a good outward image...they let themselves shine on the battlefield. And it was said by them that if they killed 20 Palestinians before dying, then it was a waste. They were more important than those 20. That's the way it should be.

In the meantime, we'll sit here in the Green Zone where you can be fined for smoking too close to a stone and marble palace. And listen with envy as our A Co brothers come through telling of firefights and raids.