One Soldier's Experience

Time between movies

23 Apr 2004, 2335 hours

Middlebrook and I just watched episode 1 of this seasons Sopranos. I was great to actually finish a movie without being interrupted for a mission. Guess the trick is to watch films that are only and hour long. Biehl and I got 56 minutes into that new film with George Clooney and Catherine Zita-Jones Douglas, Intolerable Cruelty when we had to roll out the wire yesterday. Once we returned we had just enough time to finish it before we rolled out for the raid last night.

My Bradley was responsible for overwatching to the North from the East side of the cordon. A wall lined the left side if the road I was overwatching and I had a row of houses on my right. It was a tight spot that I got put in.

During the Company map rehearsal with the Commander, I had to brief the Commander on my movement and responsibilities as given by his operations order. I showed him my infiltration route and drew my opset on the sand table. The wall to my left and high roofs to my right limited my sector. As if the wall was not enough, I had Arty guys with .50 cals mounted on CAT's 100 meters in front of me on the inside of the wall. Their sector was to watch to the East, positioned to the front of my Bradley. throw shrapnel much farther, increasing the risk to troops to my front. Not only was my sector extremely narrow, I had Blue platoon just beyond my left limit. I informed him of my limitations and wanted to hear his input. He looked me in the eyes and signaled that it is good that I can forecast my limitations but he knows that he "put me in a tight spot".

So we rolled with that plan. It was critical that I used my thermals to view the North side. I pulled into the city and positioned my Bradley as far left against the wall as I could get so that it would give me a clearer view of the rooftops to my right. There was a streetlight giving my position away. It also lit up the entire holding area to my left and the face of the assault building. So I instructed a dismount to shoot it out. That was one hell of a bang. Those huge ass incandescent lights hold a lot of pressure. It scared the hell out of the shooter.

The rooftops were actually in the CAT's sector; they could clearly see them better than me with their NVG's. The raid went smooth; Cobra shot three Iraqis who tried to run, wounding them. The mission was a success -- 3 bad guys were pulled off the streets.

After 2 hours of clearing, the exfil began. I was directly between a power pole and the wall. I told my driver to pull forward 50 meters turn around and drive back through the space we were parked in. As we passed through I saw some of the trash on my left start to rustle toward the power pole. I yelled for Hinkebein to stop, but it was too late. The ground wire for the power line was under my track shoes. It came out of the big black box on the pole with a brilliant explosion, 25 meters in the air, directly over my hatch. My eyes widened and I was paralyzed with excitement. It was an awesome display of power as the electricity seared through the darkness.

My mind was deliberating whether or not the Bradley hull would conduct electricity and if it was going to hurt much. I ordered Hinkebein to "back the fuck up" off the wire. Sparks flew overhead and the wire hit the ground where my track was standing. Another box at the end of the next block to my East exploded.

Darkness fell upon us as the power to several city blocks just went out. Pitch black surrounded us; only the glow of the chem lites in the cleared buildings windows gave a sense of direction. My NVG's were in my pocket and I could not make out the silhouette of the vehicles to my front. There was at least 5 Hummers and two Bradley's lined up and waiting on me to finish my turn. Then my radio crackled and Black 8 reported that he had contact to his East, two explosions. I tried to report to Black 6 that I hit the wire,
but the radio was filled with everyone else trying to get a sitrep on his contact report. I kept keying the switch on my helmet, but I was stepped on by everyone else. A smile cracked on my face as my frustration mounted.

Black 7 told 8 that it was just lightning hitting the ground. Did I mention that it rained all night and we were in the middle of a wild lighting storm? Then a Hummer in front of me opened up its .50 cal machine gun. It fired about 10 rounds to the East, the direction of the second explosion. They had to suppress the area in case it was enemy contact. The gunner ID'd the target and fired at the transformer. The flash from the barrel lit the area. I could see all of the vehicles clearly. I successfully keyed the net and reported what happened to 6. The .50 cal did not fire again. I positioned my vehicle in the convoy and we rolled back to FOB Sommeral.

My conscience hopes that no one was hurt and that the Iraqis have the materials to fix their power line. (Note: No Iraqis were injured by the suppression) That was fun, does that make me a bad person? This conflict of interest within myself is confusing. I feel the adrenaline when we are on mission. The excitement and anticipation fuels me, my senses are heightened when I roll out. On one hand, I do not want to be here and lose any more soldiers. I miss home very much and am remorseful for putting my family in this situation. I cannot escape this hell. The other hand accepts the fact that I volunteered to be a soldier and enjoys the hunt. But the gamble is inescapable. The danger is real. This has been the deadliest month since the "end of major combat". The Marines in Fallujah are in a contact every day. Intell reports that the losses the enemy is sustaining could push the Anti Coalition Forces our direction. I pity them; my ass is going home next year.

* * * * * * *

Philip Jarvis
SSG, USA
Master Gunner

I find myself fooled at times

22 Apr 2004, 2200 hours

Sometimes the urge to scream out is overwhelming. When I step outside into the dark, the world around me closes in. I look from the edge of the pad back to my cell, staring at the horizon so I can make out the silhouette of the strange skyline. It is made up of the roofs of our cells at regular intervals. Some of the pads have duffel bags and pieces of equipment on the roof. Confinement to this camp is the price we pay in order to maintain security.

My world consists of a 500-meter strip of an old run way. I am trying to keep a grip on reality, but the night makes it hard. Where else does artillery fire interrupt my train of thought, outgoing MLRS, armored vehicles driving by, scattered reports of RPG attacks, IED's, AK-47 fire, and other din. Those are the distractions when we are not conducting missions.

Tonight is a major raid. The Outlaws are responsible for outer cordon of two large apartment buildings. Intell reports that there are 72 apartments in the two buildings. We are looking for one specific guy, , or something like that. We will head out tonight, into the darkness. We will not use our headlights as we drive 30 miles per hour down city streets.

Our night vision devices bring the night to life with its green light. I find myself fooled at times. I will be scanning the scene with my NVG's, clearly distinguishing threat from friendly. Then my eyes will begin to water and I will take my NOD's off. It is a little unsettling to go from total awareness of my surroundings to the darkness of the night, pitch black. The Bradley gives me a false sense of security, and then I realize that I am standing balls high out of the turret, like God Damn Sherman crossing Rhineland. It is a constant balance between keeping my ass behind the armor and being able to successfully maneuver my Bradley.

I find myself paranoid at one moment, then lost in bliss the next. I do not want my actions here to have negative effects on my livelihood when I return home. Fortunately I have not had to fire my weapon in aggression. I have no idea what kind of impact that is going to have on me. I can only pray that I do not find myself in that position. It is time to stage the vehicles for LD. I will sleep well after we return.

* * * * * * *

Philip Jarvis
SSG, USA
Master Gunner

Oil is simply everywhere

21 Apr 2004 0057 hours

An Iraqi was killed by an IED tonight. I wonder how many children lost a father tonight. Or how many widows will grieve tomorrow.

This country is absolutely incomparable to any place on Earth that I have been to. It is shocking to see the state in which many of these people exist. Oil is the blood of this country, and it runs thick through its veins. There are several oil refineries in our sector. The stench is inescapable. I wake up to the vile odor every morning. The entire airspace reeks like burned oil caked onto cars headers and cooked into a thick black sludge. Just when you think you have been accustomed to it, a new tinge to the horrible odor reveals itself to my repulsed nasal passages.

Massive plumes of black smoke constantly rise on the horizon. Fires burn constantly at the refineries from huge pipes that extend high above the ground. The smoke lingers without end, creating black clouds that hover above the city. They cast ominous shadows over the houses; the shade they provide is wicked in its nature.

The roads are lined with pools of the black crude liquid; some are size of small fishing ponds. When those catch fire, they burn for days at a time. Unchecked by a seemingly non-existent fire department, the fires light the sky at night with a horrible glow.

The soil is stained deep by the oil. There are massive areas of black earth that have been penetrated by spills. I saw the cab of a tanker truck that caught on fire, it was abandoned beside a road. Someone opened the valves of the trailer and drained it onto the ground. The pool was at least 100 meters long, with numerous fingers running off the side. The truck has been removed, but the biohazard still remains.

The roads along trucking routes are completely soaked with black gold. The shine off the oil is clearly visible at night under moonlight. The EPA would simply loose their minds over here. Every pothole in every truck stop is filled with oil puddles.

Oil is simply everywhere. The Tigris River is rainbow colored in the spots that do have huge oil buildup. Black tar is like jelly fish on the banks. I am appalled by how nasty oil is handled here.

There is a huge dirt parking lot outside of the refinery. Thousands of oil trucks park there for days at a time. The drivers sit in small groups drinking tea they cooked on little oil stoves. They wear dresses and defecate directly next the roads we drive on. They do not perform personal hygiene of any kind I recognize. Their trucks are old, rusty, and unreliable. I am surprised that any oil actually makes it to the ship. Where does all the money go? I have absolutely no respect for anyone who profits from this business and does not improve the work conditions or quality of life for their employees.

* * * * * * *

Philip Jarvis
SSG, USA
Master Gunner

15 Apr 2004 0950 hours

Do you remember your first video game console? I had an Atari 2600. The graphics were simple dots and dashes that represented key features of an event. There was one game that I remember specifically. Night Driver. There were white lines that represented reflective poles on the sides of the road. A dotted line ran vertically, occasionally forming slight arcs to create turns. There was no horizon, scrolling skyline, or even the silhouette of the moon. As you increased in speed, it became significantly difficult to maintain the vehicle in the center of the road, and virtually impossible in the right lane. If you left the road surface, your vehicle was reduced to a burning hulk after a brilliant white flash. I never enjoyed that game. It was too unrealistic, even for a video game.

My alarm clock pierced the morning at 0200 hours. I loathe the fact that we own the night. SP was at 0300, Operation . I sat alone in my Hummer, debating exactly why I had volunteered to participate in this ridiculous mission. The mission itself was not ridiculous, I felt ridiculous. One of my soldiers was fast asleep in his cell; I was taking his place so he could rest.

My vision is less than perfect, even more so at night. I gripped the steering wheel and pressed the throttle. The Hummer roared and slowly accelerated to the link-up point. Anxiety of the coming drive began to take its effect on me. I stopped in front of 1st Squad. They began to load into the back, rocking me left and right as each one climbed over the tailgate. There was a squad in the back of my truck, plus the Lieutenant on my right. Everyone's lives in my hands.

0300 was quickly coming. There have been numerous Improvised Explosive Devices planted in our sector recently. Too many soldiers have been sent home because of them. Home sounds good; does it not? I want to have both of my feet and arms when I leave.

The scout vehicle on point began to roll out; I followed, carefully studying the outline of his vehicle. He had an M2 .50-caliber machine gun mounted on the roof. Only one antennae on the right of his rear bumper. These are critical details; a driver needs to know what he is trying to look for on the vehicle he is following. A break in contact is not uncommon. The best drivers are able to anticipate them and correct distances imperceptibly. Every vehicle had an infra-red chemlite attached to the tailgate, that does not happen every mission. But that turned out to have no improvement on my ability to determine the edges of the driving
surface and the soft shoulder on the sides.

The black out drive on the Hummer I was assigned did not work. That tiny light makes a huge difference. The other trucks black out drive markers were operational. The pressure was on me to be able to drive the same speed as the trucks that had the advantage of that visibility. I felt like a bowling ball bouncing off
the kiddy bumpers during midnight madness. It was frustrating; the soldiers were unsettled as I swerved off both sides of the road as I tried to follow the lead vehicle. A break in contact would have been catastrophic.

The route to the target house was challenging, and I had not been on the leaders recon. Did I mention that my NVG mount is broken? I have to hold my night vision monocular in my hand. So there I was, at 0300 in the damn morning; barreling down the road, no illumination from the moon, 50 miles per hour, NOD's in my right hand, left hand on the wheel, 11 soldiers quickly loosing their patience, zig zagging through the dark. Clouds of dust encircled us every time a set of tires left the road and ripped into the desert. I kept
my composure, despite the challenges. I kept repeating the phrase "your SSG Jarvis, Master Gunner, One Bad Mother Fucker; you will get these soldiers to the objective" in my head.

Did I mention that the lead truck was driving with white light? He could see clear as day, and I was supposed to stay a safe distance behind him in case of IED strike. That guy was hauling ass. I know that I was the best guy the platoon could have had behind the wheel this morning. There was a point about a quarter the way there when I entered "the zone" and everything got smooth. I could not feel my right arm any more; it was numb from holding my NOD's to my right eye. When we got to the objective, I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. It was over, the 45 minutes of hell was behind me.

The mission was a success; no casualties.

We had a patrol the next night. My driver was in the Hummer for that one. As soon as we left the gate he noticed the low visibility. He looked over at me and said, "it's dark as hell, I can't see a damn thing, where's the road?" I said "no shit" to myself and directed him back onto the hard ball.

* * * * * * *

Philip Jarvis
SSG, USA
Master Gunner

Photograph: Outlaws Platoon

The Outlaws Platoon photo from the memorial of Laramore and Pops:

"They were loyal to their friends, to their families, and to the Outlaws. Neither can ever be replaced. Those two guys were very special, and I do not mean that in a "they just died so I am reaching for emotional words to use" kind of way. I was at a Superbowl party in Germany the weekend before our deployment here. It was 0300 when the half time show came on. I looked across the room and saw Pops walk through the door. We drank a few beers, shot a little tequila, and promised to watch each others back in Iraq. You had to be there, to look in his eyes, to know that he absolutely meant it when he said he had your back. I will always remember."

occupation, persecution and exploitation

Ays, a dentist in Iraq writes:

Regarding the situation in Iraq.. you have to be a little clever and forget the ideas of occupation, persecution and exploitation that you’ve been taught since your birth.. and try to understand the American aims first: Defeating terrorists, make sure that WMD are in safe hands and letting democracy rules the countries that are suffering from the dictators since those are so dangerous and of course they’re supporting and paying for the terrorists…

So if one of the above exists in a country, it’ll be so dangerous if it’s left, cause as it becomes strong enough, it’ll be a threat for the whole world..

Read his post and blog > > >

Adding to What do we want to know?

Given to me through email:

I would like to hear more about the schools and water systems that are being restored and upgraded. Any positive news would be appreciated. The media tends to focus on the negative and I know there is more good going on over there.

===

I would like to know just what are the conditions really like for the military there. i.e. food, showers, shelter, mail, down time(if any), diversions.

Thanks, Ronda and Kennha.

The questions comes in...

"How do we get the people to WANT security provided by the US?

I'm not sure who will be willing to meet me in Iraq, but if I'm asked that question when I'm there, I'll say start by bringing together clerics and town leaders into council. The reason I'd do that is because we are dealing with a people robbed of their own history, including the consensus democracy of the mosque, and it's a bad idea to try to pretend they didn't invent the customs being applied. And, if the democracy of the mosque and the democracy of everyone else is going to go through a rule set reset, we -- the Iraqis and everyone they connect with -- had better understand security in the context of everything else.

Connect Iraq: What do we want?

Note: my trip to Iraq is part of a Global Bridge Builders project named Connect Iraq. The project goal: Increase connectivity -- the conversation -- between the Iraqi people and everyone else.

j Baumgart -- j's scratchpad -- writes in a comment: I'd like to know what life is like for an Iraqi right now.

Do they fear the Americans?

Are there shortages of food and other necessities?

Do people feel secure?

What do they really think about the American occupation?

What do they envision for their future?

Do they think America will leave as the government hollowly promises?

What good things are we doing over there? What are all of the contractors doing?

What is it like to be an American contractor there?

How can the average American help Iraq and its people?

What about international troops?

What else do we want?

To let them know...

you are thinking of them and they are not alone.

I can understand everyone's frustration and the storm of emotions that erupt at the thought of losing so many brave service members in the last year. Having lost someone so dear to me last month in an IED explosion was my worst fear come true, but it didn't break me. It only renewed my sense of responsibility that we need to be here, to finish what we came here to do; if only to ensure that all our loved ones didn't die in vain.

Whether you agree with why we are here or not doesn't matter. What does matter is that you continue to provide support to the service members and their families - to let them know you are thinking of them and they are not alone. At our combat support hospital here in Tikrit, we have received so many cards and letters of support from people all over the world - most of them were strangers at first, but we now feel that sense of love and connectivity that Critt Jarvis was talking about.

When I was home for Hans' funeral, the love and support that came from his family and friends and also the community of Columbus was absolutely breathtaking. It gave me a sense of peace to know his family and friends would never have the fear of being alone to deal with all of this and neither would I. Even under the worst circumstances, the human spirit never ceases to amaze me. To know that there are so many people out there thinking of us and praying for us gives us the encouragment to make it through each day out here.

With that in mind, I wanted to let the family and friends of service members know that if their loved ones are injured or die out here, they are never alone. We recently had a young soldier come to our hospital with life threatening injuries and he ended up passing shortly after he came to our intensive care unit. From the time that his humvee got hit, there were fellow soldiers at his side doing everything above and beyond what they could to help save him. He was never alone; even in the short time before he passed, there were countless people at his bedside to provide comfort and support. As a nurse, it is a quiet honor to be there for someone's final moments here on earth - no matter how hard it is or how many tears are cried over these young service members, please know that we stand by their sides in the place of their loved ones. I hope our presence and knowing that your loved ones are never alone helps to ease the pain of such a terrible loss.

There is nothing but 100% support out here in Iraq from us all - every service member counts, every family member counts - please help us close the loop and keep that circle of support going.

"A salute to all those who risked their tomorrows for our todays, and those who continue to preserve our freedoms." (Embroidered on a flag quilt hanging at the Rhein Main airfield terminal in Germany)

My sincerest thanks to everyone,

CPT Jodi L Brehmer, AN

Source: Comment to "In the spirit of peace"