Welcome to Warrior April 24, 2006
Welcome to Warrior
April 24, 2006
After a very long journey, I have arrived at my new home in Iraq, where I will be spending 101 days embedded with the 101st Airborne Division. I will be reporting on the day-to-day life of the troops in the 1st Brigade, who are stationed in Kirkuk at FOB (Forward Operating Base) Warrior.
My trip began with a flight from New York to Kuwait. Once in Kuwait, I waited for a shuttle to my hotel. And waited. The pace is different than New York. There isn’t one. This is where I began my education in learning to wait. My hotel was well-appointed, with a friendly staff and all of the modern conveniences, and I knew I should enjoy these comforts while they lasted.
As soon as I arrived at my hotel I had to check in with Captain Paul Edwards, who processes many journalists into Kuwait and through to Iraq. He had told me processing my visa would take at least a day, so I knew I would be in Kuwait for at least one night. I met Captain Edwards at the Starbucks (that’s right, they are everywhere) on the hotel grounds, and he briefed me on our operations in the region, the Area of Responsibility (AOR), which stretches well beyond Kuwait and Iraq. Our soldiers are always coming and going through Kuwait, where newly arriving troops also receive up-to-date training based on what Coalition Forces are encountering in Iraq today.
Once Captain Edwards had my visa processed, I was to get on a military flight from Kuwait to Baghdad. This sounds simple, but every step of the journey came with its own conditions. In this case, for security reasons, I wouldn’t know the actual time of departure until around the time of departure. All I knew was I had to get on a bus to the military base at 4:00 am.
Once at the base, there was some waiting, but also breakfast at the mess hall. I sat with two men working with the Corps of Engineers, who told me about the work they were doing to get water treatment plants up and running. They were making a difference and were happy for the opportunity to share their successes. They were also very helpful in describing what to expect after our arrival in Baghdad. Our flight was on a C-130, a cargo plane. The seating was tight and the landing a bit rough, but overall it was no worse than the average commercial flight, and no crying babies. We landed at Baghdad International Airport (BIAP) in the afternoon. And waited.
Our next stop was the other side of Baghdad. Unfortunately, this cannot be accomplished with a quick cab ride. Even a New York cab driver wouldn’t make that trip. We were waiting for a helicopter, which was a safer way to travel. Hours went by. Also waiting were many soldiers, some returning from leave, some heading out on leave, and most were tired from long journeys of their own. Many slept on the sandy ground.
The highlight of this stage of the journey was the arrival of country music legend Charlie Daniels. He was in Iraq entertaining the troops, and plans had been made for him to stop at the airport and sign autographs, along with Dave Price, a New York television weather man. The soldiers lined up and Charlie Daniels graciously chatted and shook hands and posed for pictures. When I mentioned I was there representing the Milan Mirror-Exchange, Mr. Daniels said, “Tell Milan their people are doing a great job over here, and you can quote me on that.” It was wonderful to see someone so committed to the soldiers and appreciative of the work they do.
Finally the helicopter arrived and it was my first chance to see what Baghdad looked like. There were signs of life: laundry hanging out to dry, lights on in houses, even traffic on some streets. Suddenly Baghdad didn’t seem like a city full of insurgents, but a city full of people like you and me who are trying to build a life, but who have a small group of people trying to get in the way. I was so absorbed in taking in the sights; it wasn’t until I noticed two soldiers on the flight had guns aimed out either side of the helicopter that I remembered we were at war.
On the other side of Baghdad I was met by one of the soldiers who work in the International Zone of the city, in the Combined Press Information Center (CPIC). He took me to dinner at one of Saddam Hussein’s old palaces, which is now home to many offices and a mess hall. I had never eaten in a palace before and could barely taste my food because, well it didn’t have a lot of flavor, but also because I had to try to imagine what it was like in Baghdad when Saddam lived in this palace, a structure so much more substantial than the houses I had just flown over, houses that looked like the cardboard type used in architectural models.
I spent two nights in Baghdad, in a trailer reserved for journalists. During the day, I became acquainted with reporters from slightly bigger outfits: CBS, NBC, The Wall Street Journal, AP and World Picture News. I saw Parliament attempt to convene then decide not to. I met members of the Iraqi media and Iraqi police. I learned photographers called themselves “shooters,” and I learned getting to Kirkuk isn’t easy.
After my enlightening stay at CPIC, I was finally booked on a flight to Tikrit. This was not exactly welcome news. That I had already grown used to scheduling changes and prolonged periods of waiting without even thinking about complaining means the military had trained me well. I took a helicopter to Tikrit. It landed at 3:00 am Thursday. Tikrit doesn’t look very good at 3:00 am, or 6:30, when a young soldier named Hutch arrived at “Tent City” to take me and a nice fellow from the Wall Street Journal to breakfast. I finally got a flight out of Tikrit at about 9:00 pm, and even though everyone there at the base had been very kind and accommodating, I was happy to put some distance between me and Tent City.
Finally, somewhere around 10:30 pm Saturday, I landed in Kirkuk and was met by Major Bishop and Sergeant Schultz, soldiers from the Public Affairs Office at FOB Warrior who had been and would continue to be very helpful in helping me do the job I came to do, which is to try to learn about our hard-working troops by living among them. It is a privilege to be here. I look forward to each of my 101 days. I look forward to sharing my experiences with the people of Milan. –slm101st@yahoo.com
April 24, 2006
After a very long journey, I have arrived at my new home in Iraq, where I will be spending 101 days embedded with the 101st Airborne Division. I will be reporting on the day-to-day life of the troops in the 1st Brigade, who are stationed in Kirkuk at FOB (Forward Operating Base) Warrior.
My trip began with a flight from New York to Kuwait. Once in Kuwait, I waited for a shuttle to my hotel. And waited. The pace is different than New York. There isn’t one. This is where I began my education in learning to wait. My hotel was well-appointed, with a friendly staff and all of the modern conveniences, and I knew I should enjoy these comforts while they lasted.
As soon as I arrived at my hotel I had to check in with Captain Paul Edwards, who processes many journalists into Kuwait and through to Iraq. He had told me processing my visa would take at least a day, so I knew I would be in Kuwait for at least one night. I met Captain Edwards at the Starbucks (that’s right, they are everywhere) on the hotel grounds, and he briefed me on our operations in the region, the Area of Responsibility (AOR), which stretches well beyond Kuwait and Iraq. Our soldiers are always coming and going through Kuwait, where newly arriving troops also receive up-to-date training based on what Coalition Forces are encountering in Iraq today.
Once Captain Edwards had my visa processed, I was to get on a military flight from Kuwait to Baghdad. This sounds simple, but every step of the journey came with its own conditions. In this case, for security reasons, I wouldn’t know the actual time of departure until around the time of departure. All I knew was I had to get on a bus to the military base at 4:00 am.
Once at the base, there was some waiting, but also breakfast at the mess hall. I sat with two men working with the Corps of Engineers, who told me about the work they were doing to get water treatment plants up and running. They were making a difference and were happy for the opportunity to share their successes. They were also very helpful in describing what to expect after our arrival in Baghdad. Our flight was on a C-130, a cargo plane. The seating was tight and the landing a bit rough, but overall it was no worse than the average commercial flight, and no crying babies. We landed at Baghdad International Airport (BIAP) in the afternoon. And waited.
Our next stop was the other side of Baghdad. Unfortunately, this cannot be accomplished with a quick cab ride. Even a New York cab driver wouldn’t make that trip. We were waiting for a helicopter, which was a safer way to travel. Hours went by. Also waiting were many soldiers, some returning from leave, some heading out on leave, and most were tired from long journeys of their own. Many slept on the sandy ground.
The highlight of this stage of the journey was the arrival of country music legend Charlie Daniels. He was in Iraq entertaining the troops, and plans had been made for him to stop at the airport and sign autographs, along with Dave Price, a New York television weather man. The soldiers lined up and Charlie Daniels graciously chatted and shook hands and posed for pictures. When I mentioned I was there representing the Milan Mirror-Exchange, Mr. Daniels said, “Tell Milan their people are doing a great job over here, and you can quote me on that.” It was wonderful to see someone so committed to the soldiers and appreciative of the work they do.
Finally the helicopter arrived and it was my first chance to see what Baghdad looked like. There were signs of life: laundry hanging out to dry, lights on in houses, even traffic on some streets. Suddenly Baghdad didn’t seem like a city full of insurgents, but a city full of people like you and me who are trying to build a life, but who have a small group of people trying to get in the way. I was so absorbed in taking in the sights; it wasn’t until I noticed two soldiers on the flight had guns aimed out either side of the helicopter that I remembered we were at war.
On the other side of Baghdad I was met by one of the soldiers who work in the International Zone of the city, in the Combined Press Information Center (CPIC). He took me to dinner at one of Saddam Hussein’s old palaces, which is now home to many offices and a mess hall. I had never eaten in a palace before and could barely taste my food because, well it didn’t have a lot of flavor, but also because I had to try to imagine what it was like in Baghdad when Saddam lived in this palace, a structure so much more substantial than the houses I had just flown over, houses that looked like the cardboard type used in architectural models.
I spent two nights in Baghdad, in a trailer reserved for journalists. During the day, I became acquainted with reporters from slightly bigger outfits: CBS, NBC, The Wall Street Journal, AP and World Picture News. I saw Parliament attempt to convene then decide not to. I met members of the Iraqi media and Iraqi police. I learned photographers called themselves “shooters,” and I learned getting to Kirkuk isn’t easy.
After my enlightening stay at CPIC, I was finally booked on a flight to Tikrit. This was not exactly welcome news. That I had already grown used to scheduling changes and prolonged periods of waiting without even thinking about complaining means the military had trained me well. I took a helicopter to Tikrit. It landed at 3:00 am Thursday. Tikrit doesn’t look very good at 3:00 am, or 6:30, when a young soldier named Hutch arrived at “Tent City” to take me and a nice fellow from the Wall Street Journal to breakfast. I finally got a flight out of Tikrit at about 9:00 pm, and even though everyone there at the base had been very kind and accommodating, I was happy to put some distance between me and Tent City.
Finally, somewhere around 10:30 pm Saturday, I landed in Kirkuk and was met by Major Bishop and Sergeant Schultz, soldiers from the Public Affairs Office at FOB Warrior who had been and would continue to be very helpful in helping me do the job I came to do, which is to try to learn about our hard-working troops by living among them. It is a privilege to be here. I look forward to each of my 101 days. I look forward to sharing my experiences with the people of Milan. –slm101st@yahoo.com
posted by Shelby Monroe at 5:21 AM
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