Let's Hear It for Bravo Company! July 15, 2006
Let’s Hear It for Bravo Company!
July 15, 2006
Lean, muscular, ruggedly handsome, sculpted. These are just some of the words the soldiers of the 101st Airborne Division’s Bravo Company, 2nd Battalion, 1st Brigade, use to describe themselves. But these guys are more than just a collection of pretty faces (“pretty” was also on their list). They know their way around Kirkuk, and they know how to show a girl a good time. Sergeant Jeremy Stearns, a nice Southern gentleman from Alabama, introduced me as Miss Shelby, and for the five days I spent with them, the Bravo boys called me Miss Shelby.
I had spent a day with Bravo Company’s 1st Platoon a few weeks ago. An IED had exploded behind our convoy, and we were very lucky. The explosives were powerful enough to do serious damage even to our heavily armored Humvees, but we had escaped unharmed. The triggerman was caught with the cell phone he used to set off the explosives, and his arrest led to others. What could have been a tragedy turned into a victory. Nevertheless, the guys thought somehow my presence attracted IEDs, so when I showed up to go out on patrol with them again, they called me an IED magnet and pretended they were scared to ride with me. I think they were pretending.
The soldiers of the 101st have been here in Kirkuk for ten months now. The soldiers of Bravo Company lived in the city for five months before moving to the base, so they are very familiar with the neighborhoods and streets of their sector. Much of what they do now is routine. Each of Bravo Company’s three platoons conducts patrols, both mounted and dismounted, and many patrols are conducted with the Iraqi Police (IP), so they usually begin with a trip to one of the local police stations.
The Iraqi Police are not driven by a sense of urgency. Often, a stop at a police station involves more than the exchange of information about events and issues. There is plenty of time for that. But when an officer enters the room with a tray full of small clear glasses, everyone knows it is chai time. There is no fighting it. Chai is fairly strong tea served with about a half inch of sugar at the bottom of each glass. Some of the soldiers have learned to embrace the chai ritual. Others will be happy if they never see another glass of chai. Either way, it is fun to watch a man in uniform and full body armor, weapon at his side, balancing a dainty cup and saucer on his knee. With luck, by the time the chai is cleared away, the IP are ready to accompany our soldiers on patrol.
The soldiers work closely with the Iraqi Police for several reasons. The IP are responsible for the city, for the citizens of Kirkuk. How well they handle this responsibility affects the degree to which our soldiers’ involvement is required. The IP are funny, exasperating, and dangerous. In spite of our efforts to break them of old habits, to teach them new methods, there is still a limit to how much one person can control another’s behavior. Our soldiers can remind the IP not to beat up detainees, but when left to their own devices, the IP sometimes get a few punches in anyway. There are some dedicated officers, but generally the IP do not inspire confidence.
Lieutenant Erik Wright sat down with the police chief at a newly formed police station, the Emergency Response Unit (ERU), who tried to shift the burden to us, implying the soldiers were not doing enough. LT Wright tried to explain that the IP needed to take the lead, that our goal and theirs should be to minimize the necessity of an American military presence. It is difficult to persuade the Iraqis to take responsibility for themselves and each other. They have not had this level of control over their lives before.
At another ERU meeting, Captain Jon Simrak was forced to ask why they had conducted a raid without involving more highly trained members of Iraqi law enforcement, and without notifying us. The chief explained that they had received a tip that had to be acted on immediately, and the raid resulted in the arrest of three men who were in possession of materials used to make IEDs. It was hard to argue with success, and it would seem the IP had shown the sort of initiative we were looking for. But there are proper procedures, and if they are not observed in every situation, it will not be long before they are forgotten altogether. Once this point was made, it was possible to appreciate the results of the raid.
Sergeants Mike Jones and Jeremy Stearns inventoried the items taken during the raid, each of which served some function in an IED. When they had organized the wires, the timing devices, the explosive material, the batteries, I said, “It doesn’t look like much.” Jeremy replied, “It doesn’t take much.” It doesn’t take much to commit a random act of brutal violence, but just as it doesn’t take much to do the wrong thing, it doesn’t take much to do the right thing either. While Captain Simrak and Sergeants Jones and Stearns interrogated the three men who had been captured during the raid, I sat in another room with the man who had provided the police with the tip. It was nice to sit beside someone who had probably saved lives by doing the right thing. The soldiers thanked him before they left the room, and I thanked him too. Then we watched Iraqi television.
Many patrols involve getting out and talking to people. With the help of interpreters, the soldiers try to get a sense of how the Iraqis are feeling about life in Kirkuk right now. The reactions are mixed. Some see only new difficulties. Others see great opportunities. A muktar who had been forced to leave his home, only to have it and the rest of his village destroyed by order of Saddam Hussein, is building a new home, creating a new village, and he is eager to embrace democracy. He offered Sergeant Timothy Malmin a piece of land. He offered me a piece of land too, and I thought about moving in, but I didn’t see any plans for a pool.
Spending five days with Bravo Company, going out on one morning patrol and one night patrol each day, opened up the city to me and gave me a better understanding of a day in the life of a soldier. We walked through neighborhoods where people were running their shops, working on their homes. Children followed us, and the soldiers joked around with them. The soldiers are good at shifting gears. Sergeant Mike Bartlett was put in charge of my safety on one patrol, and I asked him if he had any kids. He told me he had four sons. At one point he had a group of boys gathered around him, and I wondered how it felt to be so far away from his own kids and so hemmed in by these Iraqi children. We stopped at a shop and Mike bought sodas for our group. Further down the road, PFC Regalado, the Medic, tried to pet a sheep.
On a night patrol with Sergeant Brian Blake and other members of the 2nd Platoon, once again the city seemed like a friendly place. The soldiers helped the IP enforce the 11:00 PM curfew, and then our convoy continued to patrol the streets, Sergeant Blake hoping to find some action. A Kurdish wedding party materialized in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere. It was after midnight and the women wore sequined dresses and danced to music played over speakers set up outside. They welcomed us, and as soon as the ladies realized there was a female with the soldiers they grabbed my arm and began to pull me into the dancing circle. I tried to hide behind Sergeant Darren McQueen, but a soldier will always enjoy watching a reporter humiliate herself, and he let the ladies take me. We probably could have stayed the night and been served breakfast the next morning, but it was time to return to the base.
There is never a day without drama in Kirkuk. There are IEDs being put together or blown apart every day. It turned out I was not an IED magnet, but one did go off in Bravo Company’s sector, injuring one Iraqi police officer. Later in the week a car bomb went off in the same area, this time killing two Iraqi police officers. In spite of the differences that exist between the IP and our soldiers, these incidents are sobering because these were probably good cops, and we are on the same side.
There is never a day without comedy in Kirkuk, often provided by the IP, who, perhaps knowing they are targets, decide to make the best of a bad situation. There are good cops and there are bad cops. There are insurgents, and there are people who turn in insurgents. The soldiers in Bravo Company move among all of these people, and they maintain their sense of humor and their sense of professionalism with all of them. Iraq is a complicated country, and Kirkuk is a complicated city.
With their movie star good looks (their words), Bravo Company can handle comedy and drama, not to mention adventure. They have been here a long time, and they have seen a lot of all three. They show up every day ready to perform, and they have many fans among the Iraqi people as well as their fans at home who miss them. They will be going home soon, and they deserve a standing ovation for the job they have done here. Miss Shelby will lead the applause.
shelbymonroe@gmail.com
July 15, 2006
Lean, muscular, ruggedly handsome, sculpted. These are just some of the words the soldiers of the 101st Airborne Division’s Bravo Company, 2nd Battalion, 1st Brigade, use to describe themselves. But these guys are more than just a collection of pretty faces (“pretty” was also on their list). They know their way around Kirkuk, and they know how to show a girl a good time. Sergeant Jeremy Stearns, a nice Southern gentleman from Alabama, introduced me as Miss Shelby, and for the five days I spent with them, the Bravo boys called me Miss Shelby.
I had spent a day with Bravo Company’s 1st Platoon a few weeks ago. An IED had exploded behind our convoy, and we were very lucky. The explosives were powerful enough to do serious damage even to our heavily armored Humvees, but we had escaped unharmed. The triggerman was caught with the cell phone he used to set off the explosives, and his arrest led to others. What could have been a tragedy turned into a victory. Nevertheless, the guys thought somehow my presence attracted IEDs, so when I showed up to go out on patrol with them again, they called me an IED magnet and pretended they were scared to ride with me. I think they were pretending.
The soldiers of the 101st have been here in Kirkuk for ten months now. The soldiers of Bravo Company lived in the city for five months before moving to the base, so they are very familiar with the neighborhoods and streets of their sector. Much of what they do now is routine. Each of Bravo Company’s three platoons conducts patrols, both mounted and dismounted, and many patrols are conducted with the Iraqi Police (IP), so they usually begin with a trip to one of the local police stations.
The Iraqi Police are not driven by a sense of urgency. Often, a stop at a police station involves more than the exchange of information about events and issues. There is plenty of time for that. But when an officer enters the room with a tray full of small clear glasses, everyone knows it is chai time. There is no fighting it. Chai is fairly strong tea served with about a half inch of sugar at the bottom of each glass. Some of the soldiers have learned to embrace the chai ritual. Others will be happy if they never see another glass of chai. Either way, it is fun to watch a man in uniform and full body armor, weapon at his side, balancing a dainty cup and saucer on his knee. With luck, by the time the chai is cleared away, the IP are ready to accompany our soldiers on patrol.
The soldiers work closely with the Iraqi Police for several reasons. The IP are responsible for the city, for the citizens of Kirkuk. How well they handle this responsibility affects the degree to which our soldiers’ involvement is required. The IP are funny, exasperating, and dangerous. In spite of our efforts to break them of old habits, to teach them new methods, there is still a limit to how much one person can control another’s behavior. Our soldiers can remind the IP not to beat up detainees, but when left to their own devices, the IP sometimes get a few punches in anyway. There are some dedicated officers, but generally the IP do not inspire confidence.
Lieutenant Erik Wright sat down with the police chief at a newly formed police station, the Emergency Response Unit (ERU), who tried to shift the burden to us, implying the soldiers were not doing enough. LT Wright tried to explain that the IP needed to take the lead, that our goal and theirs should be to minimize the necessity of an American military presence. It is difficult to persuade the Iraqis to take responsibility for themselves and each other. They have not had this level of control over their lives before.
At another ERU meeting, Captain Jon Simrak was forced to ask why they had conducted a raid without involving more highly trained members of Iraqi law enforcement, and without notifying us. The chief explained that they had received a tip that had to be acted on immediately, and the raid resulted in the arrest of three men who were in possession of materials used to make IEDs. It was hard to argue with success, and it would seem the IP had shown the sort of initiative we were looking for. But there are proper procedures, and if they are not observed in every situation, it will not be long before they are forgotten altogether. Once this point was made, it was possible to appreciate the results of the raid.
Sergeants Mike Jones and Jeremy Stearns inventoried the items taken during the raid, each of which served some function in an IED. When they had organized the wires, the timing devices, the explosive material, the batteries, I said, “It doesn’t look like much.” Jeremy replied, “It doesn’t take much.” It doesn’t take much to commit a random act of brutal violence, but just as it doesn’t take much to do the wrong thing, it doesn’t take much to do the right thing either. While Captain Simrak and Sergeants Jones and Stearns interrogated the three men who had been captured during the raid, I sat in another room with the man who had provided the police with the tip. It was nice to sit beside someone who had probably saved lives by doing the right thing. The soldiers thanked him before they left the room, and I thanked him too. Then we watched Iraqi television.
Many patrols involve getting out and talking to people. With the help of interpreters, the soldiers try to get a sense of how the Iraqis are feeling about life in Kirkuk right now. The reactions are mixed. Some see only new difficulties. Others see great opportunities. A muktar who had been forced to leave his home, only to have it and the rest of his village destroyed by order of Saddam Hussein, is building a new home, creating a new village, and he is eager to embrace democracy. He offered Sergeant Timothy Malmin a piece of land. He offered me a piece of land too, and I thought about moving in, but I didn’t see any plans for a pool.
Spending five days with Bravo Company, going out on one morning patrol and one night patrol each day, opened up the city to me and gave me a better understanding of a day in the life of a soldier. We walked through neighborhoods where people were running their shops, working on their homes. Children followed us, and the soldiers joked around with them. The soldiers are good at shifting gears. Sergeant Mike Bartlett was put in charge of my safety on one patrol, and I asked him if he had any kids. He told me he had four sons. At one point he had a group of boys gathered around him, and I wondered how it felt to be so far away from his own kids and so hemmed in by these Iraqi children. We stopped at a shop and Mike bought sodas for our group. Further down the road, PFC Regalado, the Medic, tried to pet a sheep.
On a night patrol with Sergeant Brian Blake and other members of the 2nd Platoon, once again the city seemed like a friendly place. The soldiers helped the IP enforce the 11:00 PM curfew, and then our convoy continued to patrol the streets, Sergeant Blake hoping to find some action. A Kurdish wedding party materialized in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere. It was after midnight and the women wore sequined dresses and danced to music played over speakers set up outside. They welcomed us, and as soon as the ladies realized there was a female with the soldiers they grabbed my arm and began to pull me into the dancing circle. I tried to hide behind Sergeant Darren McQueen, but a soldier will always enjoy watching a reporter humiliate herself, and he let the ladies take me. We probably could have stayed the night and been served breakfast the next morning, but it was time to return to the base.
There is never a day without drama in Kirkuk. There are IEDs being put together or blown apart every day. It turned out I was not an IED magnet, but one did go off in Bravo Company’s sector, injuring one Iraqi police officer. Later in the week a car bomb went off in the same area, this time killing two Iraqi police officers. In spite of the differences that exist between the IP and our soldiers, these incidents are sobering because these were probably good cops, and we are on the same side.
There is never a day without comedy in Kirkuk, often provided by the IP, who, perhaps knowing they are targets, decide to make the best of a bad situation. There are good cops and there are bad cops. There are insurgents, and there are people who turn in insurgents. The soldiers in Bravo Company move among all of these people, and they maintain their sense of humor and their sense of professionalism with all of them. Iraq is a complicated country, and Kirkuk is a complicated city.
With their movie star good looks (their words), Bravo Company can handle comedy and drama, not to mention adventure. They have been here a long time, and they have seen a lot of all three. They show up every day ready to perform, and they have many fans among the Iraqi people as well as their fans at home who miss them. They will be going home soon, and they deserve a standing ovation for the job they have done here. Miss Shelby will lead the applause.
shelbymonroe@gmail.com
posted by Shelby Monroe at 12:43 AM
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