Herding Cats in Hawijah July 22, 2006
Herding Cats in Hawijah
July 22, 2006
The problem of Hawijah has not gone away. There are quiet days where nothing explodes, but a quiet day always seem to be a preamble to a more typical day, which usually includes an IED discovery or a blast of rock and roll on the base followed by a few rounds fired into the night. I spent another week at FOB (Forward Operating Base) McHenry to get e better sense of what the problem was and how it might be solved. As luck would have it, the 101st Airborne Division’s 1st Brigade had studied the problem and come up with a possible solution. They called it Operation Gaugamela. For two days Hawijah was cordoned off, the flow of traffic stopped, and every house and shop was searched.
Three days before the Operation was launched, villages on the outskirts of Hawijah were cordoned and searched. These missions got underway before sunrise. Monday, we got started at 4:15 AM. Tuesday’s mission began at 3:00 AM. The good news is these missions were finished by midday. The bad news is they finished me for the rest of the day.
Though they met with little resistance, the soldiers’ efforts were not often rewarded. Remote villages contain remote hiding places and tight-knit groups of people. The highlight came on Tuesday, when three men on a list of suspects were found together in a house. There had been a death in the family, so in addition to these three, there were seven other male relatives present who were also detained. Their wrists were secured with heavy-duty plastic ties, and they were led to a vehicle while the cows and chickens watched.
On Thursday, Operation Gaugamela commenced. Additional support had been brought down from Kirkuk and included American soldiers, Iraqi soldiers and police, dogs and their handlers, and equipment. The roads running into and out of Hawijah were secured. Helicopters circled overhead, providing security and eyes in the sky. My Humvee was driven by Sergeant Bobby Brooks, co-piloted by Sergeant Jamey Stolp, and Specialist Kyle Tripp was the gunner. With two very long days ahead of us, I was lucky to be in the company of these thoughtful gentlemen. My convoy included the commander of the 1st Battalion, Colonel Marc Hutson, who communicated over the radio with company leaders throughout the Operation.
Individuals who were somehow suspect, either because they did not have proper identification, or because they were not where they were supposed to be, or just because they behaved in a suspicious manner, were brought to collection points. We watched one group of detainees gathered beside a cinder block wall. They sat under the sun awaiting their fate. Nearby, a donkey poked through the garbage that was scattered among the grass. We passed by the collection point again later in the day, and the group of detainees had grown. The donkey had been replaced by five cows.
Convoys rolled through every neighborhood. Soldiers, both American and Iraqi, walked the streets and entered each house. The sun burned very brightly, and both soldiers and search dogs struggled to combat the heat. There were soldiers on standby in the event of attacks on Coalition Forces, but for the most part, the searches proceeded without incident.
Any protests were conducted silently, or when we were not there to listen. One of the main streets was lined with carts of produce: tomatoes, watermelon, eggplants. With the town in lockdown, there was no business, and in frustration carts had been emptied onto the street. Local merchants stared expressionless at the passing Humvees. In residential areas, citizens waited stoically for the search teams to come and go. Weapons are permitted in the households of Hawijah, but for the purposes of this mission, guns were confiscated. In the middle of the second day, an Iraqi Police truck drove by our convoy, its bed loaded down with AK-47s.
Day Two also brought two discoveries. A weapons cache was found in the courtyard of a home in an otherwise peaceful-looking neighborhood. Another cache was uncovered in a shop on a street lined with many shops. The first cache included explosives, ammunition and many other devices used by insurgents. The EOD (Explosive Ordnance Disposal) team was brought in to inspect the materials, and because some were deemed unsafe to move, they were detonated on the scene. Area residents were notified over a loudspeaker that an explosion was impending, and they were advised to stay in their homes. We moved our vehicles a safe distance from the site and minutes later heard a loud boom, followed by a billowing cloud of smoke.
The second cache included materials used in the assembly of car bombs, and these were also detonated where they were found, resulting in another very loud explosion and a sky filled with smoke. These explosions send a message to insurgents and to those who live in their company. As with many other towns and cities in Iraq, Hawijah has its share of law-abiding citizens. But for years now Hawijah has been home to networks of insurgents and terrorists, and the source of people and weapons used against citizens and Coalition Forces in neighboring areas, like Kirkuk.
Over time, each phase of the Operation became routine, even mundane. Detainees were herded into trucks. Long lines of cars were stopped at checkpoints where they waited for hours until they were told to move forward or turn around. Soldiers patrolled the streets on foot or in vehicles for hours. Soldiers sat in idling Humvees. For hours. Over the radio, progress and delays were reported. At one point, thirty people who had been gathered for further screening suddenly took off over a foot bridge and were in the process of being recaptured. From the air, this was described as, “Pretty much like herding cats,” to which Colonel Hutson replied, “Understand herding cats.” If there was ever an apt description for all of this, that was it.
Iraqi Police also required herding. Tired from the long days, their numbers began to shrink. Everybody was tired. A Humvee is not as comfortable as even the cheapest car, and spending twelve hours in one is a kind of torture. The second day was longer than the first. Kyle, the gunner, had been on his feet, his head and shoulders poking out of the turret, throughout, except for a few short periods where Bobby and Jamey gave him a break. They all made sure I was okay, and I tried to pretend I was, even though I could not wait to get out of the truck and into a shower.
In the end, it is hard to say if the Hawijah problem was solved. Perhaps it was reduced. In the coming days, it will be interesting to see if there is a backlash. The nature of the opposition is such that it does not retain a particular shape. It shifts and changes. Even if weapons are discovered, bad guys sometimes get away. Or new bad guys are sent in as replacements with new weapons. The operation did meet with some success, but our soldiers will continue to watch and wait. The soldiers at FOB McHenry know all about watching and waiting, and they are better than most at herding cats. shelbymonroe@gmail.com
July 22, 2006
The problem of Hawijah has not gone away. There are quiet days where nothing explodes, but a quiet day always seem to be a preamble to a more typical day, which usually includes an IED discovery or a blast of rock and roll on the base followed by a few rounds fired into the night. I spent another week at FOB (Forward Operating Base) McHenry to get e better sense of what the problem was and how it might be solved. As luck would have it, the 101st Airborne Division’s 1st Brigade had studied the problem and come up with a possible solution. They called it Operation Gaugamela. For two days Hawijah was cordoned off, the flow of traffic stopped, and every house and shop was searched.
Three days before the Operation was launched, villages on the outskirts of Hawijah were cordoned and searched. These missions got underway before sunrise. Monday, we got started at 4:15 AM. Tuesday’s mission began at 3:00 AM. The good news is these missions were finished by midday. The bad news is they finished me for the rest of the day.
Though they met with little resistance, the soldiers’ efforts were not often rewarded. Remote villages contain remote hiding places and tight-knit groups of people. The highlight came on Tuesday, when three men on a list of suspects were found together in a house. There had been a death in the family, so in addition to these three, there were seven other male relatives present who were also detained. Their wrists were secured with heavy-duty plastic ties, and they were led to a vehicle while the cows and chickens watched.
On Thursday, Operation Gaugamela commenced. Additional support had been brought down from Kirkuk and included American soldiers, Iraqi soldiers and police, dogs and their handlers, and equipment. The roads running into and out of Hawijah were secured. Helicopters circled overhead, providing security and eyes in the sky. My Humvee was driven by Sergeant Bobby Brooks, co-piloted by Sergeant Jamey Stolp, and Specialist Kyle Tripp was the gunner. With two very long days ahead of us, I was lucky to be in the company of these thoughtful gentlemen. My convoy included the commander of the 1st Battalion, Colonel Marc Hutson, who communicated over the radio with company leaders throughout the Operation.
Individuals who were somehow suspect, either because they did not have proper identification, or because they were not where they were supposed to be, or just because they behaved in a suspicious manner, were brought to collection points. We watched one group of detainees gathered beside a cinder block wall. They sat under the sun awaiting their fate. Nearby, a donkey poked through the garbage that was scattered among the grass. We passed by the collection point again later in the day, and the group of detainees had grown. The donkey had been replaced by five cows.
Convoys rolled through every neighborhood. Soldiers, both American and Iraqi, walked the streets and entered each house. The sun burned very brightly, and both soldiers and search dogs struggled to combat the heat. There were soldiers on standby in the event of attacks on Coalition Forces, but for the most part, the searches proceeded without incident.
Any protests were conducted silently, or when we were not there to listen. One of the main streets was lined with carts of produce: tomatoes, watermelon, eggplants. With the town in lockdown, there was no business, and in frustration carts had been emptied onto the street. Local merchants stared expressionless at the passing Humvees. In residential areas, citizens waited stoically for the search teams to come and go. Weapons are permitted in the households of Hawijah, but for the purposes of this mission, guns were confiscated. In the middle of the second day, an Iraqi Police truck drove by our convoy, its bed loaded down with AK-47s.
Day Two also brought two discoveries. A weapons cache was found in the courtyard of a home in an otherwise peaceful-looking neighborhood. Another cache was uncovered in a shop on a street lined with many shops. The first cache included explosives, ammunition and many other devices used by insurgents. The EOD (Explosive Ordnance Disposal) team was brought in to inspect the materials, and because some were deemed unsafe to move, they were detonated on the scene. Area residents were notified over a loudspeaker that an explosion was impending, and they were advised to stay in their homes. We moved our vehicles a safe distance from the site and minutes later heard a loud boom, followed by a billowing cloud of smoke.
The second cache included materials used in the assembly of car bombs, and these were also detonated where they were found, resulting in another very loud explosion and a sky filled with smoke. These explosions send a message to insurgents and to those who live in their company. As with many other towns and cities in Iraq, Hawijah has its share of law-abiding citizens. But for years now Hawijah has been home to networks of insurgents and terrorists, and the source of people and weapons used against citizens and Coalition Forces in neighboring areas, like Kirkuk.
Over time, each phase of the Operation became routine, even mundane. Detainees were herded into trucks. Long lines of cars were stopped at checkpoints where they waited for hours until they were told to move forward or turn around. Soldiers patrolled the streets on foot or in vehicles for hours. Soldiers sat in idling Humvees. For hours. Over the radio, progress and delays were reported. At one point, thirty people who had been gathered for further screening suddenly took off over a foot bridge and were in the process of being recaptured. From the air, this was described as, “Pretty much like herding cats,” to which Colonel Hutson replied, “Understand herding cats.” If there was ever an apt description for all of this, that was it.
Iraqi Police also required herding. Tired from the long days, their numbers began to shrink. Everybody was tired. A Humvee is not as comfortable as even the cheapest car, and spending twelve hours in one is a kind of torture. The second day was longer than the first. Kyle, the gunner, had been on his feet, his head and shoulders poking out of the turret, throughout, except for a few short periods where Bobby and Jamey gave him a break. They all made sure I was okay, and I tried to pretend I was, even though I could not wait to get out of the truck and into a shower.
In the end, it is hard to say if the Hawijah problem was solved. Perhaps it was reduced. In the coming days, it will be interesting to see if there is a backlash. The nature of the opposition is such that it does not retain a particular shape. It shifts and changes. Even if weapons are discovered, bad guys sometimes get away. Or new bad guys are sent in as replacements with new weapons. The operation did meet with some success, but our soldiers will continue to watch and wait. The soldiers at FOB McHenry know all about watching and waiting, and they are better than most at herding cats. shelbymonroe@gmail.com
posted by Shelby Monroe at 4:12 AM
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