Please say a prayer for SSgt Collado and his family, friends and comrades in arms. He was an advisor assigned to Iraqi units in Najaf. He was a good Marine, and a better friend. He will be missed. Two other Marines were injured during the attack. Our prayers go out to them as they recover.
Marine from Columbia, South Carolina killed in Iraq
31-year-old Marine from Columbia died on Monday following an attack on his vehicle in Iraq, the Pentagon reported Wednesday. Staff Sgt. Jay T. Collado "died from an improvised explosive device near Baghdad," according to a statement released by the Pentagon. The statement did not say when the incident in Iraq occurred.
Collado had been working with the Army's 4th Infantry Division in Iraq, but originally was assigned to a Marine unit based in Camp Pendleton, Calif., the release said.
Collado was assigned to Marine Light Attack Helicopter Squadron 267, which is part of the 3rd Marine Aircraft Wing, I Marine Expeditionary Force from Camp Pendleton.
Monday, February 27, 2006
Sunday, February 26, 2006
A little bit of violence is...
I can’t really begin to describe the events of the last couple of days. I think the press has been reporting, accurately and inaccurately, that the country is on the verge of civil war. I can say that the amount of civil unrest has increased, but it’s not in our immediate area. The people here are tense and cautious, but seem to be in generally good spirits.
There is a church in one of the districts near our area. It’s a small, brownish building, about three stories high, that sits on a busy street corner. It isn’t surrounded by walls or fences; it has large windows with broken glass, but no bars. If you walk across the street, there is a small store, where a vendor sells chips and soda to the people as they leave the church. 5 times a day, he told me, people come to the mosque to pray, and 5 times a day, he sells things to make a living. The minaret to the church isn’t really a minaret. It looks sort of like a steeple you would see on top of a church in Kansas or Kentucky. There is no bell, but there is a loudspeaker, where the Imam of the church, who I had met, has his younger leaders call to prayer, because he can’t sing the call anymore. The mosque itself is quite clean. The trash is nowhere is sight, and there is an air of reverence surrounding the mosque. In the small courtyard, where the Imam greets his attendees every day, there is a small garden, maybe 5 feet by 5 feet, and from it he grows onions and potatoes that he gives to the local people, as well as for himself. He tells me he eats the food from the garden every day, because to be one with the earth is to be one with god. He tells me that he has been the leader of this church for 25 years, and that his father was the leader before him, and his father before him. Its interesting to talk to him, he is wise and insightful in his own way. At moments, he even appears somewhat regal and dignified, as if he were some kind of monarch, although I do not think this is intentional. He is quiet and small, yet he commands the respect of his followers, and when somebody says something he does not like, he seems to straighten up and gives them a look that could crush rocks, and the unlucky object of his ire seems to melt.
The mosque I am talking about, this little place of solitude and reverence was burned to the ground two days ago. It was 800 years old.
I have not seen the Imam since the fire that claimed his home. I haven’t seen any of his younger acolytes, and only a few of his faithful come by the remains. I am afraid that he was killed inside the mosque, or else he was captured and will be found in a few days, handcuffed and shot on the side of the road. I can not even begin to imagine the age and history of some of the items that were inside the church as it burned. Our nation is only 200+ years old, and this building was here. Most of the nations on this planet did not exist, yet this church was here. Entire civilizations have come and gone, yet people came to this building to pray.
Today, as we moved by and stopped to survey the damage, I noticed the trash was everywhere. The vendor across the street is gone now; apparently he left since there were no more people. The garden, so meticulously maintained, was uprooted and stomped. It was covered with oil and grease, to make sure that it was never used again. I never knew if this mosque was Shia or Sunni, and to be honest, it didn’t matter to me. What matters to me is that there are people in this country that would resort to this kind of destruction at all. We are called infidels and hated for what we believe, yet these people who are supposedly so close to god, have no concern for the house of the very god they believe in. I am becoming more convinced that all these people know is violence and hatred, and they will always be that way, no matter what “civilized” people try to teach them. In their eyes, death and violence is the way life is. Just like the desert, the reality of this country is that you either survive, or you don’t. You hurt people to get what you want, or you get hurt. If a thousand years of history teaches them anything, it’s that there will always be killing and destruction.
There is a church in one of the districts near our area. It’s a small, brownish building, about three stories high, that sits on a busy street corner. It isn’t surrounded by walls or fences; it has large windows with broken glass, but no bars. If you walk across the street, there is a small store, where a vendor sells chips and soda to the people as they leave the church. 5 times a day, he told me, people come to the mosque to pray, and 5 times a day, he sells things to make a living. The minaret to the church isn’t really a minaret. It looks sort of like a steeple you would see on top of a church in Kansas or Kentucky. There is no bell, but there is a loudspeaker, where the Imam of the church, who I had met, has his younger leaders call to prayer, because he can’t sing the call anymore. The mosque itself is quite clean. The trash is nowhere is sight, and there is an air of reverence surrounding the mosque. In the small courtyard, where the Imam greets his attendees every day, there is a small garden, maybe 5 feet by 5 feet, and from it he grows onions and potatoes that he gives to the local people, as well as for himself. He tells me he eats the food from the garden every day, because to be one with the earth is to be one with god. He tells me that he has been the leader of this church for 25 years, and that his father was the leader before him, and his father before him. Its interesting to talk to him, he is wise and insightful in his own way. At moments, he even appears somewhat regal and dignified, as if he were some kind of monarch, although I do not think this is intentional. He is quiet and small, yet he commands the respect of his followers, and when somebody says something he does not like, he seems to straighten up and gives them a look that could crush rocks, and the unlucky object of his ire seems to melt.
The mosque I am talking about, this little place of solitude and reverence was burned to the ground two days ago. It was 800 years old.
I have not seen the Imam since the fire that claimed his home. I haven’t seen any of his younger acolytes, and only a few of his faithful come by the remains. I am afraid that he was killed inside the mosque, or else he was captured and will be found in a few days, handcuffed and shot on the side of the road. I can not even begin to imagine the age and history of some of the items that were inside the church as it burned. Our nation is only 200+ years old, and this building was here. Most of the nations on this planet did not exist, yet this church was here. Entire civilizations have come and gone, yet people came to this building to pray.
Today, as we moved by and stopped to survey the damage, I noticed the trash was everywhere. The vendor across the street is gone now; apparently he left since there were no more people. The garden, so meticulously maintained, was uprooted and stomped. It was covered with oil and grease, to make sure that it was never used again. I never knew if this mosque was Shia or Sunni, and to be honest, it didn’t matter to me. What matters to me is that there are people in this country that would resort to this kind of destruction at all. We are called infidels and hated for what we believe, yet these people who are supposedly so close to god, have no concern for the house of the very god they believe in. I am becoming more convinced that all these people know is violence and hatred, and they will always be that way, no matter what “civilized” people try to teach them. In their eyes, death and violence is the way life is. Just like the desert, the reality of this country is that you either survive, or you don’t. You hurt people to get what you want, or you get hurt. If a thousand years of history teaches them anything, it’s that there will always be killing and destruction.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Misunderstandings
Let me put it out there. Yes, there were many Army personnel that I worked with during the early days, and they were as valuable to the team as anybody I could have asked for. We lived, fought, and worked together, and they did an outstanding job. I will remember their names and faces for the rest of my life. I wish that those people were here now, to show these people here now, the way it should be done.
Thanks for reminding me...
Thanks for reminding me...
Monday, February 13, 2006
Support for the Few
I got this article in the New Hampshire Union Leader. Our efforts as advisors are not without support!!!
Happy Valentines Day!
Kenney, NH senator, back from the war
By GARRY RAYNO Union Leader Staff
MANCHESTER – State Sen. Joseph Kenney, 45, of Wakefield returned to the Granite State yesterday after spending the last five months stationed in Iraq.
Greeted by friends, supporters and several people who held signs that read "Draft Kenney for Governor," he arrived at Manchester Airport yesterday afternoon dressed in his desert camouflage.
"It's good to be back," Kenney said. "I finished up my tour serving my country, now I look forward to serving the state of New Hampshire again and especially the people in (Senate) District 3."
Kenney was stationed in Baghdad and was a military advisor to the Iraqi ground forces command for five months, but has been away from home for six months.
"We're making steady progress, but it's a complex environment over there with lots of ethnic differences and in-fighting. The coalition led by the Americans is the glue keeping it all together," he said.
Kenney said his friends have been very supportive while he has been away. The Senate and House legislative staff and recreation group, or SHARC, sent him a Christmas tree and gifts during the holidays, he noted.
He was greeted by his wife and two children — the youngest, his daughter, was only two-months old when he left to go overseas.
Sara Brothers, the daughter of Department of Employment Security Commissioner Richard Brothers of Tilton, held a sign that read "Joe Kenney American Hero."
Brothers, who held a sign welcoming Kenney home, noted "(Joe) would make a great governor."
Kenney said he would be back at the State House chairing the Executive Departments and Administration Committee on Tuesday.
Kenney is currently serving his second term in the Senate after serving four terms in the House. He is vice chairman of the Health and Human Services Committee and is a member of the Public and Municipal Affairs Committee.
His colleagues in the Senate plan a celebration in his honor this week.
Kenney is a Lieutenant Colonel in the U.S. Marines Corps and has served since 1980.
Friday, February 10, 2006
Happy Ahoura!!!
Over the last few days I have had the opportunity to watch the Ashura holiday. For those of you who don’t know what it is, it is the Shia holy day, where they celebrate(?) the death of the martyr Hussein in the 7th Century. I think most people, especially Americans, only know the holiday by the pictures and stories of the people beating themselves and bleeding all over their faces. I would agree that it seems a bit much to honor somebody by bleeding all over, but then, I never said I understood these people in the first place.
Needless to say, I had some interesting thoughts about it, while I was surrounded by thousands of people heading to Karbala for the ceremonies. A majority of these people that did not live in the city, walked to get there. I think some people walked 60 miles or more. That is some serious dedication, and it made me think about just how faithful I was. I mean, I like to think of myself as a good person and all, but would I, could I, walk 60 miles to celebrate the death of somebody by beating myself? Not only that, but I don’t think I know anybody who would do that. Yet, here, so far away from the “civilized” world, people think nothing of it. I am sure the government frowns on the practice, and I understand that a number of Arab governments don’t allow it. In Kuwait, they encourage the donation of blood instead of the self-flagellation. If the people here can get so frenzied about something, how can we even think to enforce controls on them?
As we moved up and down the roads, I was shocked at the number of people who were actually glad to see us. Our presence had to be a little comforting, as Iraqi Police, Army, and the coalition guys went about there business, mindful of the occasion but dedicated to the task at hand. I would like to think that the air was one of friendliness and cooperation; however, I know that isn’t entirely possible. I am sure that there were a number of people who were there to do harm, and create chaos, but I believe that our efforts made it impossible to do. Still, I was impressed that we got waves from all kinds of men, women, and children. Lots of smiles, lots of support. It really felt good to sit back and watch as the whole thing unfolded in from of me.
All things come to an end however, and I must say that the mission was successful. As of yet, no bombs went off, no one got killed. If this is progress, it’s a step in the right direction.
I am not impressed with some of my Army colleagues, and watching the whole operation take place makes me wonder how the Army gets things done. I can’t even begin count the number of suggestions, recommendations, and points I brought up to try to get things done the way that I think they should be done, but I am convinced that the Army isn’t really in this to get the job done. I am confused as to why the Army seems to want to play mentor to the Iraqi’s when we should be setting the tone and pace. Lead from the front is what I have always been told, but it appears that the Army has chosen a “Guide from the Rear” approach. Easier to recommend the proper solution and watch the Iraqi’s go the other way, then to take them by the hand and drag them to the right thing. Somebody told me that working with the Marines is great, but they are always so Gung Ho and Push Forward, that sometimes they rush in to things. That is nothing but wrong, especially in this business. If we don’t take the Iraqi’s in the direction we want them to go, they are going to go in the direction they are most familiar with, and that direction leads right back to where they were before. That is not what we want, and its not what we need for them, so the best way, I think, is to show them how to do it the right way, and let them move forward from that. Instead of asking them if they will do it our way, you must tell them. They are like children, and will only learn right from wrong if they are shown the difference.
I am not saying that we create an Iraqi Army, Police, or anything that is a mirror image of the US. I am saying that there is a right way to do things that work across the board, because it is simple, its effective, and it works. We know what that path is, but the Army command here seems very hesitant to cross it. It’s a shame, because there is so much progress that can be made, if people were only willing to put their skills to work.
OK, no more flowery prose. These Army guys are freaking morons. They don't want to listen, they don't want to get involved, they just want to collect their fucking Awards and NCO-ERs and go back to their regular jobs. I wish them well, because the sooner they leave, the better off we (I) am going to be. Good thing I have free medical, because these clowns are driving me to the loony bin.
Needless to say, I had some interesting thoughts about it, while I was surrounded by thousands of people heading to Karbala for the ceremonies. A majority of these people that did not live in the city, walked to get there. I think some people walked 60 miles or more. That is some serious dedication, and it made me think about just how faithful I was. I mean, I like to think of myself as a good person and all, but would I, could I, walk 60 miles to celebrate the death of somebody by beating myself? Not only that, but I don’t think I know anybody who would do that. Yet, here, so far away from the “civilized” world, people think nothing of it. I am sure the government frowns on the practice, and I understand that a number of Arab governments don’t allow it. In Kuwait, they encourage the donation of blood instead of the self-flagellation. If the people here can get so frenzied about something, how can we even think to enforce controls on them?
As we moved up and down the roads, I was shocked at the number of people who were actually glad to see us. Our presence had to be a little comforting, as Iraqi Police, Army, and the coalition guys went about there business, mindful of the occasion but dedicated to the task at hand. I would like to think that the air was one of friendliness and cooperation; however, I know that isn’t entirely possible. I am sure that there were a number of people who were there to do harm, and create chaos, but I believe that our efforts made it impossible to do. Still, I was impressed that we got waves from all kinds of men, women, and children. Lots of smiles, lots of support. It really felt good to sit back and watch as the whole thing unfolded in from of me.
All things come to an end however, and I must say that the mission was successful. As of yet, no bombs went off, no one got killed. If this is progress, it’s a step in the right direction.
I am not impressed with some of my Army colleagues, and watching the whole operation take place makes me wonder how the Army gets things done. I can’t even begin count the number of suggestions, recommendations, and points I brought up to try to get things done the way that I think they should be done, but I am convinced that the Army isn’t really in this to get the job done. I am confused as to why the Army seems to want to play mentor to the Iraqi’s when we should be setting the tone and pace. Lead from the front is what I have always been told, but it appears that the Army has chosen a “Guide from the Rear” approach. Easier to recommend the proper solution and watch the Iraqi’s go the other way, then to take them by the hand and drag them to the right thing. Somebody told me that working with the Marines is great, but they are always so Gung Ho and Push Forward, that sometimes they rush in to things. That is nothing but wrong, especially in this business. If we don’t take the Iraqi’s in the direction we want them to go, they are going to go in the direction they are most familiar with, and that direction leads right back to where they were before. That is not what we want, and its not what we need for them, so the best way, I think, is to show them how to do it the right way, and let them move forward from that. Instead of asking them if they will do it our way, you must tell them. They are like children, and will only learn right from wrong if they are shown the difference.
I am not saying that we create an Iraqi Army, Police, or anything that is a mirror image of the US. I am saying that there is a right way to do things that work across the board, because it is simple, its effective, and it works. We know what that path is, but the Army command here seems very hesitant to cross it. It’s a shame, because there is so much progress that can be made, if people were only willing to put their skills to work.
OK, no more flowery prose. These Army guys are freaking morons. They don't want to listen, they don't want to get involved, they just want to collect their fucking Awards and NCO-ERs and go back to their regular jobs. I wish them well, because the sooner they leave, the better off we (I) am going to be. Good thing I have free medical, because these clowns are driving me to the loony bin.
Sunday, February 05, 2006
Honoring a Warrior
I recieved this email and thought I would post it. It is from the funeral procession for Cpl Lundstrom, killed Jan 7 2006 outside Fallujah. He was from a Souix Tribe in South Dakota.
http://multimedia.rockymountainnews.com/slideshow/slideshow.cfm?type=DEFAULT&ID=012006lundstrom&NUM=1
http://multimedia.rockymountainnews.com/slideshow/slideshow.cfm?type=DEFAULT&ID=012006lundstrom&NUM=1
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Days go Bye
Well it’s been a couple of days since I updated, so let me get everybody caught up. We have been pretty active around here this past week. It’s been hard to keep track of the days, it seems like time just moves forward and you only know what day it is by the calendar. All thinks considered, you really become numb to it, and it’s easy to see how Iraqi’s have no real understanding of the importance of time. This is, of course, how we as Americans view it. I gather from them that time isn’t as important, and things will happen if god wills it to happen.
Anyways, we have scene some remarkable improvement in the Iraqi Police. Not much mind you, but like I tell my guys, little victories are critical. We pretty much started our week with no plan at all, so I put together these classes on patrol planning and patrol steps. The officers got a class on planning, while the soldiers got a class and instruction on patrol operations. The classes went on the same day, and much to my surprise, were a big hit. The officers displayed no apparent knowledge of anything resembling military skill, while the soldiers performed reasonably well. We had a plan to put this into action, and last night we had the officers plan a patrol while the soldiers actually worked it on the street. In the end, it worked out pretty well, at least till they got tired, and that’s when they lost control. But, for 3 hours, it worked out pretty good, and I am proud of my team for helping put it together.
We have also been working hard to get the soldiers to wear flacks and helmets. It has been an ongoing battle, and almost fruitless. But yesterday, I guess they all decided to pay attention. I think the IED had something to do with it. A couple of days ago, we had an officer get killed by an IED. Apparently he walked right up to it after he was told not to, and it blew him to pieces. Not very pretty, but one very large he had his Kevlar helmet on, and his head was still intact. Anyways, pretty gross, but all of the sudden the helmet is critical to these guys. Lesson learned I suppose.
I have been thinking about this lately, watching the police in action. I think we have all read about how Saddam treated his people, but it didn’t really dawn on me how badly these people suffered, until I watched the Iraqi’s interrogate a prisoner. Now, before anybody gets into an uproar, they DIDN”T touch the guy, or beat him, or anything like that. But, from the moment they brought him in, you could tell by looking at him that he was petrified. They (the police interrogator) were quiet and asked specific questions, but something in his voice struck me as evil. Watching these people work makes me feel as if I am infected by them. Its not so much as what he says, but the way he says them. Some of the things he said and the way he asked, I think the people are still very much afraid of the authority. It makes me wonder how Saddam destroyed these people. Some of the stories I have heard over the years were pretty horrendous, but you never really take them as fact until you see it in the eyes of the people who committed them. Also, the police have a tendency to grab people randomly. Better to grab somebody and bring them in, then to say we didn’t catch anybody.
A good rain has a way of washing away the filth. Clouds are forming overhead, and it looks like another storm is on its way.
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