Early Birds May 29, 2006
Early Birds
May 29, 2006
Waking up before sunrise has always been difficult for me, but for the soldiers of the 101st it is routine. Much of what they do here in Kirkuk takes place in the hours where most of us would be sleeping or hitting the snooze button. But I knew if I wanted to roll with the soldiers, I would have to roll out of bed when they did, and that is how I came to be standing outside my CHU (Containerized Housing Unit) at 4:00 AM one Wednesday morning.
Specialist Linsay Burnett and I were accompanying soldiers from Charlie Company, 1-327 Infantry Regiment, and 2-17 Cavalry on a “Cordon and Knock” mission in a small village called Saras Swais. We were traveling by helicopter and had to be at the airfield by 4:30. We waited in the dark for the helicopters to arrive. There were four helicopters, so we were divided into four groups. We took off at 6:00. After a hard landing in a field on the outskirts of the village, we ran clear of the helicopters so they could take off quickly and monitor the action from above.
Meanwhile, a convoy of Humvees had headed out to Saras Swais to set the stage for the mission. The village was cordoned off, and the villagers were advised in Arabic over a megaphone to place any weapons outside of their homes. Once we had made it to the village, which had been divided into four sections for our four teams, the knock part of the Cordon and Knock began, with each house visited and searched.
The purpose of a Cordon and Knock is to make contact with every household, to establish a line of communication that the soldiers hope will bear fruit. Saras Swais has seen its share of insurgent activity, particularly on one of the main roads, where car-jackings are on the rise and IED discoveries are not uncommon. Ideally, residents would volunteer any information they had to help put a stop to these acts of violence, but it was still early and some people are slow to warm up.
Each household is allowed one gun, and many houses had their one gun on display by the time we arrived, but otherwise no one was very forthcoming. The head of the household, always male, was questioned outside, while the search of the home took place. The adults were resentful of the presence of soldiers on their property, and were not very generous with their smiles. The soldiers tried to explain that their objective was to make Saras Swais a safer place, but who among us wants to be awakened by a sky buzzing with helicopters and a yard full of soldiers? I don’t even like the sound of an alarm clock.
The children, on the other hand, were often friendly and curious, and they were very happy to pose for pictures. This was an opportunity for them to broaden their world, just as every trip outside the wire broadens mine. They served as a reminder that there is always hope, always the possibility for change.
If the children were warm, the day was downright hot. The temperature quickly moved into the high nineties, and I did not envy the soldiers, who had to wear heavy protective gear, in addition to the weight of their weapons and ammunition. One soldier added up the weight of his gear for me, and the total was over seventy pounds. My flak jacket is fairly light, but it was enough to make me very hot and even slower than usual. The soldiers did not let the heat get in the way of their mission, nor did they let it affect their mood. We walked up and down the streets to every house in our section, and talked about a trip to the pool back at the base as our reward.
Every house in the village had been searched by 9:30 AM. A full day, I thought. An eye-opening day. I had watched a soldier named Paul (who didn’t want his full name revealed because that might make his work more risky) work with an interpreter named John, going from one house to another, carefully questioning men who were reluctant to cooperate, trying to exchange information and make a difference. Some of the soldiers tried to connect with the kids, and it seemed as though that was the best way to approach the situation. It may take some time, but if the children have positive interactions with Americans, they will help forge a more constructive relationship with us down the road.
It was time to head out of Saras Swais, and to an area where the helicopters would drop from the sky to pick us up. My group was the last to leave the village (I swear this wasn’t my fault), and a soldier named Jose Torres led the way. These soldiers are a clever lot, and Sergeant Torres knew we were all very hot, all anxious to get to the pool. Somehow he managed to choose a path that led us right to a stream. Though it was a bit unexpected--wading through the waist-deep water, the mud below pulling at our boots-- the cool water was refreshing, and we arrived in plenty of time to catch our bird.
slm101st@yahoo.com
May 29, 2006
Waking up before sunrise has always been difficult for me, but for the soldiers of the 101st it is routine. Much of what they do here in Kirkuk takes place in the hours where most of us would be sleeping or hitting the snooze button. But I knew if I wanted to roll with the soldiers, I would have to roll out of bed when they did, and that is how I came to be standing outside my CHU (Containerized Housing Unit) at 4:00 AM one Wednesday morning.
Specialist Linsay Burnett and I were accompanying soldiers from Charlie Company, 1-327 Infantry Regiment, and 2-17 Cavalry on a “Cordon and Knock” mission in a small village called Saras Swais. We were traveling by helicopter and had to be at the airfield by 4:30. We waited in the dark for the helicopters to arrive. There were four helicopters, so we were divided into four groups. We took off at 6:00. After a hard landing in a field on the outskirts of the village, we ran clear of the helicopters so they could take off quickly and monitor the action from above.
Meanwhile, a convoy of Humvees had headed out to Saras Swais to set the stage for the mission. The village was cordoned off, and the villagers were advised in Arabic over a megaphone to place any weapons outside of their homes. Once we had made it to the village, which had been divided into four sections for our four teams, the knock part of the Cordon and Knock began, with each house visited and searched.
The purpose of a Cordon and Knock is to make contact with every household, to establish a line of communication that the soldiers hope will bear fruit. Saras Swais has seen its share of insurgent activity, particularly on one of the main roads, where car-jackings are on the rise and IED discoveries are not uncommon. Ideally, residents would volunteer any information they had to help put a stop to these acts of violence, but it was still early and some people are slow to warm up.
Each household is allowed one gun, and many houses had their one gun on display by the time we arrived, but otherwise no one was very forthcoming. The head of the household, always male, was questioned outside, while the search of the home took place. The adults were resentful of the presence of soldiers on their property, and were not very generous with their smiles. The soldiers tried to explain that their objective was to make Saras Swais a safer place, but who among us wants to be awakened by a sky buzzing with helicopters and a yard full of soldiers? I don’t even like the sound of an alarm clock.
The children, on the other hand, were often friendly and curious, and they were very happy to pose for pictures. This was an opportunity for them to broaden their world, just as every trip outside the wire broadens mine. They served as a reminder that there is always hope, always the possibility for change.
If the children were warm, the day was downright hot. The temperature quickly moved into the high nineties, and I did not envy the soldiers, who had to wear heavy protective gear, in addition to the weight of their weapons and ammunition. One soldier added up the weight of his gear for me, and the total was over seventy pounds. My flak jacket is fairly light, but it was enough to make me very hot and even slower than usual. The soldiers did not let the heat get in the way of their mission, nor did they let it affect their mood. We walked up and down the streets to every house in our section, and talked about a trip to the pool back at the base as our reward.
Every house in the village had been searched by 9:30 AM. A full day, I thought. An eye-opening day. I had watched a soldier named Paul (who didn’t want his full name revealed because that might make his work more risky) work with an interpreter named John, going from one house to another, carefully questioning men who were reluctant to cooperate, trying to exchange information and make a difference. Some of the soldiers tried to connect with the kids, and it seemed as though that was the best way to approach the situation. It may take some time, but if the children have positive interactions with Americans, they will help forge a more constructive relationship with us down the road.
It was time to head out of Saras Swais, and to an area where the helicopters would drop from the sky to pick us up. My group was the last to leave the village (I swear this wasn’t my fault), and a soldier named Jose Torres led the way. These soldiers are a clever lot, and Sergeant Torres knew we were all very hot, all anxious to get to the pool. Somehow he managed to choose a path that led us right to a stream. Though it was a bit unexpected--wading through the waist-deep water, the mud below pulling at our boots-- the cool water was refreshing, and we arrived in plenty of time to catch our bird.
slm101st@yahoo.com
posted by Shelby Monroe at 11:25 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home