This is one soldier's view of the Iraqi elections: (by SPC Campbell):
 

A Quiet in Amidst in the Storm (July 10, 2005)
Dear Friends, 

Fallen Heroes (27May05)

Dear Friends,

Today is a sad day for the soldiers of 2nd Battalion.
Today we honor the lives and sacrifices made by two of
our own...  SPC Fell & SPC Semebly.
Today we mourn the loss of two of our family.
Today we are trying to make sense of it all…

Less then a month ago, our battalion was assigned a
new AO (area of operations). We moved from the sticks
of rural Baghdad into the heart of downtown. Our
patrol area shrank considerably and our mission became
much more focused. Our first couple days in sector
reminded me of a scene out of the sitcom "Beverly Hill
Billies." Here we have some self-proclaimed "rednecks"
from Louisiana driving up and down the urban roads
with guns blaring… it was some sight.

Our mission, simply put, is to guard the major roads.
Our constant presence on these critical routes is
meant to deter insurgents from planting IEDs and
ambushing convoys. It is a very boring and sometimes
tedious assignment, but after watching the number of
convoys that pass along our routes it is clear why we
are there. During our convoy up from Kuwait, I
distinctly remember feeling grateful every time I saw
a patrol watching the roads.

So now we sit for hours on end watching the endless
traffic stream by.

Fours days ago, one of our patrols was attacked with
small arms fire as it drove down the road. Someone was
hiding behind big piles of trash and was shooting an
AK-47 at the Humvees. After months of mounting
frustration, they finally had something to shot back
at. Unlike the passing convoys, the patrol stopped and
engaged the shooter. Since he was alone and out in the
open they unleashed their brutal fury.  Needless to
say what was left of the shooter was a gruesome sight.


Two days ago, I watched a convoy of Iraqi Army
soldiers pass along our routes. One of the tanks had
about 40-50 Iraqis sitting on top of it and I thought
to myself, that didn't seem like the smartest idea.
Not a minute later did we hear a loud "whishing"
noise, followed by an explosion and an eruption of
small arms fire. We sped up to try to catch the
convoy, but they had hauled ass out of our area.

As we came back around, we noticed some residents
flagging us down. We initially thought they were
showing us where the shooter was, but instead they
were showing us where the RPG had hit. It had gone
right through the window of someone's house and
completely charred the stair case. It is a miracle
that no one got hurt. Minutes later another group of
residents flagged us down and showed us where the
shooter had fired from. We recovered the RPG launcher
and got a description of the insurgents.

Because of our constant presence in the area, the
insurgents have adopted the hit and run method of
attacking us. They sometimes drive by and throw
grenades or pipe bombs or in true gangster style they
just spray outside the passenger windows with their
AK-47s. They have also detonated a few VBIEDs (Vehicle
Borne IEDs), but the overall number of IEDs compared
to our last patrol area has gone down considerably.

Although reports are sketchy… what I do know is that
one of our patrols was out one of our routes. For one
reason or another they were dismounted, out of their
vehicles, when someone opened fired on them. At least
two soldiers were hit… one died immediately and
another died while being transported on the
helicopter.

These two soldiers are heroes. They lived and died
serving their country. They fought for freedom for an
oppressed people and they paid the ultimate sacrifice
for our security back home. Although their job was
unglamorous, their contribution was complete. No words
that I can say here will ever be able to honor them
properly.

After 8 months of patrolling, I was not alone in
thinking that we might make it our whole tour here
without losing someone. Today our battalion suffered
our first KIAs (Killed In Action). Most everyone here
is still in disbelief about what happened, recalling
the conversations they had with these two only hours
earlier. We all deal with grief differently… being
here requires you to bury it and hope that when you
back home that you can unearth it and give its proper
respects. Until then… I am going to keep writing…
because that is how I keep sane.

We have 3 ½ more months of patrols left… and all we
can realistically ask for is that you keep us in your
prayers. I ask that you pray for our fallen brethren
and their families. Lastly, please pray that their
sacrifice will help build a beacon of freedom in the
middle east.

Until I can see you in person… I want you to know that
I love very much. Please take care of each other and I
will promise to do the same!

Shalom my friends,
Patrick Wf

P.S. I have made a lot of new friends with the local
kids in our new AO… In the midst of all the madness,
the smile and laughter of a child can be the most
calming force.

Abu Ghraib Prison - (20Apr05)

A friend asked me, "Are you not writing us real updates because what
you are doing is really that scary?" If she only knew…

Quick Administrative notes:
* I have uploaded bios/pictures of everyone I patrol with to the
platoon website (www.embracethesuck.com/page4.html)

* The HUGS project is a drive to put together cooling strips used by
soldiers during the hot days… Since it has been over 100 degrees
recently I strongly encourage anyone interested to contact Karen
Stark @ ( thehugsproject.com )

I am happy to report that we made it safely home from our special
assignment at Abu Ghraib prison. About a week ago, we got word that
we would be the main effort in a Task Force sized raid to disrupt a
terrorist cell in a nearby AO. The actual term for our mission was
a "cordon and search." "Cordon" means that we shut down all access
in and out of an area and "search" means we only knock once… with a
battering ram or a stiff kick.

This raid would involve 3 battalions and targets were spread out
over a very large area. That much firepower traveling up the road
performing a well rehearsed dance was quite a sight. Out of all the
patrol teams on this raid, our team was selected to have NBC be
embedded with us. That is where I met Richard Engel, a stanfurd
graduate and a NBC war correspondent. Needless to say we chatted the
entire time… until the ramp on our Bradley lowered and it was time
to put on my war face.

No matter how much one rehearses for a raid… as soon as you get
there it becomes utter chaos. When I got out of the Bradley we were
in a field surrounded by houses and we were running around in
circles for about 30 seconds trying to find our target… but as soon
as we got oriented we became a highly efficient raiding unit. We
cleared two houses in a manner of minutes. We completely trashed
both houses looking for any sign of terrorist activity. Much to the
disappointment of the guys from NBC the raid was quiet and
uneventful… just like I them. Overall the task force raid caught and
detained most of their targets. The ride home was spent joking and
discussing how we were going to spend our next two days off… going
to pool was top on that list.

We got to the motor pool at 2330… I was soaked with sweat from the
raid and riding in the back of the Bradley. As soon as we got out…
someone said, "Here is the good news… as soon as you get back to
your room you need to back your stuff and be ready to leave in one
hour for Abu Ghraib (AG) prison for 5 days." We had no explanation
of our mission or why we needed to leave so abruptly. We had just
pulled 4 patrols in a row and a task force sized raid… we were all
pissed that we were going to be missing out on our two days off.
Thankfully our leadership told AG that we were not leaving till the
morning. I needed the sleep but all of us slept a nervous sleep.

Background: As some of you might remember the same night our dear
Pope passed, there was a large scale attack on Abu Ghraib prison…
the scale of which we have not seen since George Bush landed on that
aircraft carrier under the banner "Mission Accomplished." (BTW…
There was no sarcasm in that statement ;) ) The insurgents attacked
the prison from three sides using the terrain features and a full
arsenal of weapons.

They started with mortars fired a couple miles away… and unlike
previous times they had a forward observer, someone who watches the
impacts and gives firing corrections to the mortar teams. They also
fired RPGs and threw grenades at the guard towers and followed each
with intense small arms fire. Because the attack happened on so many
fronts it was impossible to effectively amount a counter attack. The
marines in one of the towers were so badly injured that they
repelled down the back of one of the tower. Just then a suicide
bomber driving a VBIED rocked the outer wall sending up a mushroom
cloud, completely annihilating the tower the marines had just
evacuated. The insurgents advanced on the prison and when the smoked
cleared they realized that they had not breached the outer wall.

This same night… I was sitting in the chow hall watching CNN's
morbid coverage of "Pope Death Watch 2005." I didn't have to be
anywhere so I sat for an hour doing nothing… Afterwards I meandered
back to my room chatting on my cell phone with my friend Erika Boyd.
I told her that I would call her back in 5 minutes… I went to lay my
stuff on my bed when I saw a note saying, "Entire Company… Full
battle Rattle…in front of the TOC…ASAP!!!!...Response to Ambush (sp?)
… on another company"

I threw my gear on and rushed to the TOC… I caught the second LMTV
(big open air truck) down to the motor pool. Our entire company was
scurrying to and fro… I was assigned to the lead Bradley. This was
real combat… and we were about to enter the shit! I told the people
on my patrol team that they better come back safe because we still
had a couple episodes of Smallville season 4 to watch together. I
said it to lighten the mood, to let them know I was counting on them
to be safe and that despite all the craziness swirling around there
was still good and pure things, like Smallville, left in this world!

3rd Platoon, our tank platoon, (with whom I earned the scar on my
lip when I first got here) was limping into the motor pool… They had
been heading home when the attack on AG started. As they rolled down
a service road… a car with no lights pulled out from between two
buildings, striking the back end of the M1 Abram tank and blew up.
It rocked everyone on the patrol, blew 3 tires of the Humvee behind
the tank and parts of the insurgent's body were splattered all over
the tank. They immediately came under attack by small arms fire and
RPGs… it was at that time that the insurgents learned why the tank
is the most deadly ground fighting vehicle. Anything that moved was
quickly smoked by .50 caliber machine guns and 3rd platoon safely
rolled into the motor pool.

It was unconceivable to us that our entire company of Bradleys were
just sitting in the motor pool while the battle was raging outside
of the wire. Even mild mannered Pvt. Warmfuzzy was ready to fight
because we all knew soldiers that we fighting the fight of their
lives. Frustration mounted… still waiting for the green light…

The first two QRF (quick reaction forces) that were sent to
reinforce AG prison were met by tank mines strewn across the major
highway connecting our base and AG prison and a few coordinated
ambushes similar to the one 3rd platoon experienced. Air support
from Blackhawks and Cobras came, but with so much fire and confusion
on the ground the Blackhawks turned around while the Cobras stayed
and fought.

After two hours of sustained fighting… the insurgents realizing they
had not breached the outer wall to AG prison retreated into the
darkness. They grabbed as many of their dead and their weapons as
possible… they even dragged one rather large insurgent for 20 feet
before giving up. By the grace of god… or I like to think the Pope's
last gift to man… no American soldiers died that night. Over 40
Americans were injured and I think about 10 were so serious that
they will not be returning to duty.

You all received my email that night… I thought for sure they would
have blacked out our communications… so I emailed everyone as fast
as possible. But then the next day one could scarcely find the
coverage of what happened… Although I had been surprised by the lack
of coverage… I would rather them be praising Pope's life then
discussing the deaths of American soldiers (which thankfully didn't
happen).

Enough background?

We left for AG prison thinking that our mission was going to be like
our 5-day mission on the bridge during elections. We packed for
sleeping in the Bradleys and you can believe when I say that I
brought my sleeping bag this time. Having delivered prisoners to AG
prison before, we at least knew where we were going.

Abu Ghraib prison was built by the British in the 1970's and was
later used by Saddam Hussien to inflict all kinds of torture on "his
people." AG prison is now one of the largest prisons run by the US
military in Iraq and is definitely the most infamous. The prison is
surrounded by a huge outer wall, lined with fences and guard towers.
Within the outer wall are more walled areas that house each of the
old prisons, with their own fences and guard towers. Up until now we
had only been to the prisoner in-processing center. Sidenote: There
is much dispute on how to spell Abu Ghraib… on at least one map it
was spelled two different ways and the T-shirts at the PX are on
sale for misspelling AG.

We were relieving a company of Marines who had been providing outer
security for the prison for the past 3 months. These Marines had
taken the brunt of the attacks on April 2nd and they were ready to
get the hell out of there. We were moving in as they moved out… and
not much was said between us. The Marines had about 3 times as many
soldiers then we did, but we had Bradleys and in the minds of the
higher ups that made all the difference.

We moved into one of the old prisons… the Marines had slept in every
available room… including the old cells. Thankfully our platoon fit
in one of the administration buildings and I was able to find the
only room with a real bed! The prison we stayed in came complete
with torture chambers, a drowning pool, two incinerators and a stage
for puppet shows decorated with Disney characters. I felt like we
were living in an old concentration camp.

Our mission was to provide the sole outer security to AG prison. We
would patrol the surrounding areas and provide QRF (quick reaction
force) in case the base was attacked. The latest intelligence from
the prisoners suggested that another attack on AG prison
was "imminent." We studied the attack on April 2nd and poured over
various maps. Our patrols would be much shorter then we were used
to, but in exchange we weren't allowed to go anywhere for an
extended period of time because we needed to respond at a moment's
notice.

As we left to grab some lunch… we heard an all too
familiar "wizzing" noise followed by a white stream of smoke. Not
one hour after getting to AG prison someone shot an RPG (rocket
propelled grenade) just over our heads. The chow hall was much
smaller then the Tigerland DFAC, but just looking around one could
see the diversity of uniforms. Every branch of the military (except
the coast guard) was represented. The people who stuck out the most
were the Romains, a few of which had bright red hair in pig tails.
The Romains are all volunteers doctors and specialists who work at
the AG hospital.

Our first patrol outside the wire wasn't till Day 2. Immediately to
the North and South of the prison are two MSRs (highways) and just
beyond those MSRs are villages. To the West of the prison is a
densely populated and unfriendly area called the Kandarai market. To
the East are palm groves, fields of tall grass and an aqueduct. As
soon as we entered the market we dismounted from our Humvees and
walked along the sides of the road. So many people were standing on
the sides of the road… that it must have seemed weird for us to be
making tactical movements down the road. This patrol was all
about "presence" and letting the locals know that we are here and we
don't mess around. No matter how hard core we were trying to be… of
course I couldn't help but wave back at the children who were waving
at us and say hi to the shop owners in Arabic.

As we approached one of the intersections Lt. Riech and SPC Langley
saw some flares fired into the air. They were sure that this was a
signal from the insurgents and we moved down that road like we were
about to raid a house. Finally word came down from one of the towers
that there were some people on the roof of one of the houses and the
towers routinely fire flares as a warning to those people to get
down. With the blood still pumping… we finished patrolling the
market area. We had passed fruit stands, barbershops, clothing
shops, mechanic shops and even an Iraqi version of Kinko's. Most
people glared at us… but a few smiled and waved.

The next stop was the palm grove East of the prison. Again we
dismounted and walked up and down the side of the prison looking for
anything suspicious. I was wading through tall grass up to my chest
and needless to say my allergies were kicking my butt. For the rest
of my stay at AG I was known by everyone as "sneezy." I could see
where the insurgents had hidden in the grass two weeks prior… but
thankfully nothing was waiting for us that day.

As we made laps around the prison… one of the guard towers called up
seeing a blue van pulled off the side of the road and that someone
had handed the driver a Motorola radio (which are commonly used to
detonate IEDs). We sped toward their location and of course there
were two blue vans coming our way. We stopped the first one and
right as we were about to search it… the other van pulled a quick u-
turn and "hauled ass" the other way. We left the first van and sped
after the 2nd… only to realize that the 1st van was our target. We
were angry at ourselves. With the help of the tower we then tracked
down the individual who had handed the Motorola radio to the driver.
It was a kid in his teens and it seemed as though this might have
been a case of snipe hunting (AKA a wild goose chase).

Right as we were about to leave… we received word over the radio
that they wanted to detain this individual and bring him in for
questioning. We put him in the back of the Humvee, blindfolded him
and put on Flex-Cuffs (handcuffs made from strong zip-ties). After
getting the colossal run around on where this detainee should be
taken to… we ended up in a trailer with 3 CI (counter-intelligence)
soldiers, an interpreter, and the detainee. The 3 CI guys did not
where any patches at all (not US ARMY, not a name strip or unit
crest or even rank). For the next 2 hours we witnessed a full blown
interrogation… I can't really get into what happened… except that I
stupidly leaned against the wall and turned off all the lights on
accident… opps! After all was said and done… they deemed the kid
a "security risk" and held him for more questioning. Since none of
us on our patrol had seen this exchange gone down… all we could do
was watch… however I did learn a lot by watching the process unfold.

Day 3: We spent most of the day playing cards in the courtyard of
our building. We played Spades, Uno and for those Camarillo High
Alumni… I taught them some Pasoy! Right in the middle of some mad
shit talking… we heard a loud crack immediately followed by
concussion that shook the whole building. 30 seconds later another
mortar landed even closer. It was just another reminder that we were
sitting in the middle of a war zone.

That night on patrol the guard tower had us chasing ghosts all over
the place… until they called up 30-40 military aged men gathering
off the SW corner of the prison. We rushed, worrying that this was
the being of the supposed "imminent attack." As we would come to
find out that the men were camping out over night to get in line
early for visitation hours with the detainees. No one bothered to
tell us that Day 4 was going to be visitation day… thankfully the
ever growing crowd was peaceful and allowed us to search them and
their cars. We sternly warned them that any perceived threat would
be met with force and that they could stay the night at their own
peril. By the time we left there were over 100 men sleeping in their
cars and on the ground.

Later that night we visited one of the villages. We had the prison's
S-2 (intelligence officer) and an interpreter who wanted to ask some
questions. This was the S-2's only second time outside of the wire…
which you could tell immediately because he wore all the gear we
shed months ago (knee pads, throat collars and a dust plug for the
muzzle of his M-16). Like usual… I let the Lt. and interpreter talk
to the Haji (elder men) of the village while I talked with the
children. I think I was the first soldier they had met who knew any
Arabic and I spent about an hour laughing and joking with them.

We learned that during the April 2 attacks Syrian and Egyptian
insurgents had taken over local houses and bound and gagged the
inhabitants. The media reported that there were only about 40
insurgents who mounted the attack… after talking to the locals… it
was more like 200. This tactic of taking over a house, terrorizing
the owners and using it as a staging point/trigger point is not
unusual, but this was on a completely new scale.

Day 4 was supposed to be a relaxed day escorting KBR employees while
they picked up trash… but of course nothing ever stays easy. Our
replacements arrived… and they needed to be shown their new AO. For
some reason they felt it necessary to bring every soldier they had
and thus I ended up giving a tour of the AO to 5 miserable soldiers
from the back of a Bradley. They were cool guys, but being in the
back of a Bradley for any amount of time will suck the life force
right out of you. Mercifully the patrol was limited to just a
driving tour.

Later that night… word was put out that the "imminent attack" was
really "imminent." So we maintained a presence outside of the base
all night along with our replacements. Thankfully… the night came
and went without a peep.

Day 5 consisted of packing and getting the hell out of dodge. As we
drove home… I was struck by the awesome responsibility we had just
been tasked with and how honored I felt to be patrolling with such a
talented group of individuals. We were smelly and tired but each of
us held our head a little bit taller knowing what we had
accomplished.

Thankfully they gave us the next day off which we used to go visit
the pool right outside of one of Saddam's palaces.

I have now rambled for almost 6 pages… and probably most of you have
not read this far… but for those of you who have… thank you… thank
you for sharing this experience with me.

Shalom my friends,
Patrick Wf

P.S. I neglected to mention in one of my previous emails that when I
treated the Iraqi who was shot by our sniper team that SPC Bellard
was vital in assisting me. He prepped all the equipment and put up
with me barking orders. I am sorry I forgot to mention you ;)!

Patroling - 14Feb05

A couple of days ago, we were conducting TCPs (traffic control points) along a major road. It was the day after my girlfriend broke things off and I was uncharacteristically quiet. I was all business. We were moving to set-up another TCP, when my patrol leader (Lt. Reich AKA Lt.) told the driver to "gun it." We had a rookie driver that had a history of getting us stuck in the mud, so if Lt. wanted him to "gun it" then something serious was going on. We were speeding and slipping down a muddy road, when I heard small arms fire not far in the distance. I braced myself for my first fire fight… we turned off the dirt road onto the hardball (a paved street) and we sure were going to get hit by IED. About 200m past the turn we saw a vehicle with two passengers getting out with their hands on their heads. Both tires had been blown out and the driver’s side windows were smashed. Lt. got to them first and literally dragged them away from the car.

About 5 seconds later, once we knew the scene was safe, I examined the two passengers. One was writhing in pain, while the other was lying perfectly still. I went to work on passenger writhing in pain and just like before when I treated someone, my vision narrowed and all my focus was on the person in front of me. He was holding his knee and I saw blood running down his leg. I slapped on my latex gloves, grabbed the trauma scissors off my vest and hastily cut off his pants leg. I could see two bullet holes, thankfully neither of which were bleeding profusely. I looked for exit wounds, but could not find any which meant either that he had two bullets still in his leg or that one bullet had exited the same direction it came in.

I grabbed a field dressing off my vest and applied it to the wound above the knee. I needed to apply direct pressure to stop bleeding, but I was having trouble tying it off. I got nervous because tying off a bandage is supposed the easy part, but I didn’t have time for doubt. I grabbed an Israeli bandage (a hi-speed field dressing) from my cargo pocket and bandaged the second gun shot hole directly over the knee. I yelled for someone to get my aide bag out of the Humvee and directed Lt. to call in an air medevac. I was tasking everyone around me to help me out… "Grab my IV set out of the bag! Start filling out a field medical card! Go get a litter off the other vehicle!"

I took his heart rate and observed his respirations. He was in serious pain, so I administered him 10mg of morphine in the thigh. He kept saying "No, No, No" before I stuck him and afterwards he was said "Yes, Yes, Yes." Next I had to start an IV line… Successfully starting an IV on the first try is how most soldiers gauge how good their medics are. So in the back of my mind… I just keep thinking… "Don’t F’ this up!" Just to add to the pressure this guy had really small veins and I had a big catheter. However, I was moving so fast that my doubts were like whispers at a concert and before I knew it I had found the vein and got the IV all setup. I had stopped the bleeding, started replenishing lost fluids, and dulled the pain all in matter of 5 minutes. With a bullet possibly lodged in his knee cap I splinted his leg for a fracture and treated him for shock.

Ten minutes after our call, the medevac (a Blackhawk helicopter) landed on the road in front of us. It is one thing to have these helicopters fly over us all the time, but this bird in front of me was a truly magnificent piece of engineering. The crew chief ran to us and I briefed him on the injury and we ran carrying the Iraqi to the helicopter. We loaded him up and ran back to our vehicles. I was so relieved to be done treating him, that I don’t remember the bird ever leaving.

I personally don’t know why someone had opened fire on this vehicle, but it doesn’t really matter to me… a patient is a patient is a patient. It was my first time ever treating a gun shot wound and I hope I did it right. I am just happy I was able to be there to help protect someone’s life (even if they are an insurgent). Please don’t misunderstand me… I hate what these insurgents are willing to do to innocent people and I will do what it takes to protect my fellow soldiers and the people of Iraq, but taking someone’s life is only justified to me when you are protecting someone else’s life. Maybe that is why I am the medic.

Later that day we had to go to the Green Zone to get some information from our patient/detainee. There is a level III hospital there and this was my first time getting to actually see downtown Baghdad. The sidewalks were buzzing with people, the streets were crowded with cars and the stores were busy hawking their wares. I saw some amazing mosques and statutes and I even saw the infamous crossed swords. The Green Zone was a concrete maze of jersey barriers, constantina wire and check points. After getting a little lost, we finally arrived at the CASH (new name for a MASH).

I wanted to see the hospital, so the Lt., the 1st Sergeant and I went to find our patient/detainee. The complex sprawled on and on, and I felt like we were a bunch of farm boys in the big city for the first time. We finally found the front desk, right next to the ER. As Lt. tried to locate where our detainee was, I noticed someone pull a double take. I turned around to find SPC Denman (now Sgt. Denman) dressed in desert camou scrubs. She was a really good friend from Ft. Sam Houston, who went to college with a HS buddy of mine.

At this point… In the last 24 hours my girlfriend had broken up with me and I had treated my first gun shot victim… Sgt. Denman and I hugged, but she will never understand how much I needed that hug at that moment. We were talking a mile a minute and everyone smiled at two friends being reunited in a place like Iraq. I was able to let go of all the shit that had built up over the past day and I knew everything was going to be alright.

Later that day… I sat in Ash Wednesday services and the sermon was about letting going of the temptation to try control our lives. The chaplain even used a Lord of the Rings analogy and might as well have been just talking to me… So I decided for lent to let go of my desire to control what happens in my life. I will be just be me, no matter what the world throws at me or takes away.

On second thought… I will just write about one patrol. The other patrol was about a week ago and was a Division level raid of a high priority target. We missed our objective by a couple of minutes, but I saw him drive away after we raided his house. He was almost 400m away and I couldn’t get the attention of the Bradley gunners. At that moment I should I have shot at the vehicle to try to disable it, but I didn’t. I hesitated, along with a couple of my other buddies. I feel ashamed and relieved that I didn’t shot at anyone, though this target is responsible for many attacks on American soldiers. Hindsight is 20/20.

That is enough for now… Even though this has been rough couple of days, I want you to know I am strengthened by your presence in my life. I am grateful and blessed. Happy Valentine’s Day to you!

Take care of each other!

Shalom my friend,
Patrick Campbell

Dear Friends,

We survived the elections, Baghdad did not erupt into flames and I
hope the world is now a better place overall. The last 5 days have
been a rough journey physically, mentally and emotionally and need
less to say I am exhausted. It is by the grace of god and with the
help of all your prayers… that I am happy to report that no one in
my battalion was even injured during our 110 hour Election Day
mission. Although I have no idea how voting went, or who won, or
even what happened anywhere else… this is what I saw. (This is a
link to all my election day pictures http://patrickmcampbell.com/v-web/gallery/elections)

Our platoon was specially picked to be attached the 10th Mountain
Division. We were assigned to guard the 14th July Bridge in downtown
Baghdad. This bridge had been the site of numerous VBIED (Vehicle
Borne IEDs) and RPG attacks. It was supposed to be a 4 day mission…
Guard the bridge, search all traffic (vehicle and pedestrian),
provide general support to the 10th Mountain Division (we were the
only Bradley platoon), and shut down the bridge on Election Day.

In our briefing we were told that we were picked because we are the
best platoon in the brigade and this was the most dangerous mission.
Right after that briefing, we all had a gut check… I sent out my
last Campbell Watch (which sounded a little ominous I know), called
my parents and scared my girlfriend, almost away. I was filled with
an ominous feeling about the mission… I heard that we had lost some
soldiers that day and little things kept going wrong. For example,
my laundry wasn't ready, which meant all the sniffle gear I had
turned in would not be available for my mission. I had a restless
sleep on Wednesday night.

Thursday – 27Jan05
Our mission was supposed to start at 0700, but thankfully it was
moved back an hour… which meant that I was able to secure my sniffle
gear from the laundry service. I had no idea how important this
would become… We loaded up 4 Bradley Fighting Vehicles, tanks that
double as a troop transports. We were filled to capacity with ammo,
gear and food and water. We were told only to bring our assault
packs (desert colored backpacks) and sleeping bags only if we could
fit them in our bags. So I brought one change of clothes, 4 pairs of
socks/underwear, my fleece, 2 beanies, 2 pairs of gloves and my
medical aide bag. I couldn't fit the sleeping bag… so I decided to
rough it, BIG MISTAKE!

We first went to Camp Bonzai, in downtown Baghdad and waited to get
our assignments (http://patrickmcampbell.com/v-web/gallery/elections/E_CampBonzai). I found out that our convoy of about 20 vehicles had been hit with an IED along the way and the
Humvees sped away leaving the Bradleys by themselves without any
idea of where were going. No one was hurt… I didn't even know it
happened! At Camp Bonzai, I felt like I was back in HS… the 10th
Mountain soldiers stood together staring at us and we stood together
staring back at them. I was tempted to break the ice… but this was a
big iceberg. Two Bradleys were sent to recon the bridge… needless to
say that tanks were not designed to be driven down crowded busy
streets and we tore up a lot sidewalks and traffic circles.

We arrived on the Bridge at about 2200 and went to work immediately
securing it and preparing it for our 4 day stay. We set up Jersey
barriers, constantina wire (circular barbed wire), warning signs and
our fighting positions. Despite our initial briefing… we found an
Arkansas National Guard unit guarding one side of the bridge so we
set up on the far side.

The 14July Bridge is a suspension bridge over the Tigris river.
(Bridge - http://patrickmcampbell.com/v-web/gallery/elections/E_14July_Bridge) (Tigris River -
http://patrickmcampbell.com/v-web/gallery/elections/E_TigrisRiver)
It was named by Saddam Hussein after an Iraqi revolution in the
1960s, where the sitting monarchy was toppled and replaced with a
Democracy. It spans almost 550 feet and is elevated in the middle
(meaning we could not see the other side or the other unit). We were
at the foot of the bridge, which was still elevated about 50 feet
above the streets below. We were surrounded by houses on either
side, which meant snipers were a constant worry. There was a small
IP (Iraqi Police) outpost below us and there were 4 concrete mortar
boxes on the sidewalks.

Friday 28Jan05
2nd platoon has been divided in two patrol teams since we arrived in
Iraq, so each team took a different side of the bridge (incoming and
outgoing traffic). As soon as all was set, they implemented the
work/rest plan. 6 hours shifts… 6 on and then 6 off. It all started
at midnight on the 28th and I was put to sleep because they wanted
the medic to be up when the action started in the morning. Some
people slept in the back of the Bradleys, while others like myself
bedded down on the sidewalk under the mortar bunkers. I put on all
my sniffle gear and pulled out the casualty litter as a cot
http://patrickmcampbell.com/v-web/gallery/elections/E_SniffleGear).
To my dismay, everyone else pulled out their sleeping bags and I
felt like I had been dupped into not bringing my own.

I was asleep quickly… At about 0230 I heard screaming from the
soldiers on duty that a fire fight was breaking out and I saw
tracers shooting through the air. Once I shook off my sleepy daze, I
quickly suited up my IBA (body armor), only to realize that the
fight was somewhere else. It was only when I was fully awake that I
realized how cold it had become. The fog had rolled in and the wind
was whipping across the bridge. My teeth were chattering and I had
trouble feeling my feet. I put on another pair of socks and lay down
to sleep, but my whole body was shivering… it was freaking cold. I
was in and out of sleep all night. At 0530, I was woke up and told
to get ready for my shift. I was miserable and determined to not let
myself be that cold again.

At 0600 we opened the bridge to traffic and began our TCP (Traffic
Control Point) http://patrickmcampbell.com/v-web/gallery/elections/E_TCP).
We searched every car and every person
that went over our bridge (http://patrickmcampbell.com/v-web/gallery/elections/E_SearchingPedestrian).
I didn't expect to find much because once people saw our TCP many of them turned around
and went another way. We searched traffic going and coming. And even
though the Arkansas Guard was searching all the cars coming from
their side… we searched them again just to be sure. If we searched a
car that had blankets in the back I would use my broken Arabic to
offer them money for their blankets. Unfortunately almost everyone
who had blankets was because they were going to be sleeping at their
work during the elections.

When you stand in one spot long enough you usually get to see a
little bit of everything…  At one point we stopped a couple of
unmarked vehicles. When we got the occupants to exit the vehicle
they all had AK-47s. Everyone freaked and it turned into a little
bit of a Mexican standoff with everyone pointing weapons at each
other. A man in a suit pointed to himself and said quietly… "prime
minister." I recognized him immediately as the interim Prime
Minister of Iraq and with many apologies we sent them on their way.

At noon it finally started to warm up enough to remove one layer of
sniffle gear. Although it was my time to bed down; I still hadn't
acquired any blankets. The guys with me kept offering to steal them
for me, but I didn't want anything to do with things like that. I
saw some kids off the side of the bridge and with the help of my
handy dandy Arabic phrase book… I told the kids that I was willing
to pay for a blanket. After two hours… one of the kids brought me
out a blanket and I lowered a rope down to him and pulled up the
blanket. The kid would not take my money, despite my protests.
Finally I sent down on the same rope a pair of yellow tinted
sunglasses. Soon I had two more blankets and I knew I would not
freeze that night.

Later in the afternoon some kids came up to the TCP just to hang out
and talk with the soldiers. I was able to convince them they wanted
to go buy us some bread from the local market. They charged $5 for a
bag of 20 and I bought 4 bags for everyone to share. "Hoebez"
and "Seemon" are both types of Iraqi bread that are served
fresh. "Hoebez" is like pizza dough and "Seemon" is more like a
roll. It was our first warm meal in 2 days and it tasted so much
better then MREs.

My shift started again at 1800 and we closed down the bridge to all
types of traffic, supposedly until after the election. So all we did
was pull security. Pulling security, especially at night is an
exercise in focus and staying awake. Just like CG.ing back at
Berkeley… we just sat there and waited for something to happen. At
about 2200 we heard small arms fire down the river about 500 meters
away. We had heard intermittent small arms fire all day, so at first
no one was alarmed or even concerned. That is when the light show
started. All at once tracer rounds erupted from both sides of the
river and I was sure we were about to be attacked. Rounds were
shooting in every direction (except ours) and we had no idea who was
firing whom. So we hunkered down and just watched the show. I wanted
to film it, but I remember my resolution to all of you and thought
better of letting my guard down. It died down about 20 minutes later
and everyone was pretty excited about seeing such a show force. It
was like watching a war movie on TV… except you could feel
vibrations from each round down to the bone.

At 0001 I bed down under my three blankets and got a solid 5 ½ hours
of sleep. I was still really cold, but at least I had protection
from the moisture and the wind.

Saturday 29Jan05
I was jostled from my sleep at 0530… "CAMPBELL, GET UP!" I was
freezing, shaking and I was still having trouble feeling my toes. I
ate a quick MRE breakfast and I was back at searching pedestrians
crossing the bridge. The transportation ministry had decided that we
needed to open the bridge back up to traffic… so like all good
soldiers we do what we are told. The morning went on much like the
day before, except this time we had a much bigger crowd of kids
hanging around and chatting with us.

I spent the whole morning learning new Arabic phrases and refining
my accent. I met two young adults nick named Rod & Mr. Bean, who
told me that the bread actually cost $1 for a bag of 20 "Hoebez"
(not $5). Mr. Bean worked for the river police below us, spoke
pretty good English and spent the day just chatting with me and
interpreting for us. They started making bread runs, soda runs and
even did a run to purchase an extremely overpriced phone card for my
Iraqi cell phone. Aside from the interpreter back at the unit, they
were my first Iraqi friends.

By noon, I had an almost 15 local kids joking around with me. We
joked that we were going to arrest the little "ali babbas" (thieves)
who had swindled us on the first bread run. One of the original "ali
babba" kids asked me what I though about the Iraqi people
(http://patrickmcampbell.com/v-web/gallery/elections/E_Little_AliBabbas), I said I thought they
were good hearted people… at least most of them. The little kid put
his hand and pointed to 3 of his 5 fingers… meaning 60%... saying
that most Iraqi people are good and then pointed to the other two
saying that the others are bad. It struck me as an insightful and
rather creative way to convey such a thought with such a limited
mutual vocabulary between us.

Due to some poor planning… we realized that both medics were working
the same shifts and that meant someone had to pull a double. I will
give you one guess on who it was! After a twelve hour shift of being
on my feet, shouldering my 50 lbs of body armor, and interacting
with the little kids… I passed out when my shift was over. I slept
from 1800 till 2330.

Sunday – ELECTION DAY – 30Jan05
At midnight the road was closed and all we needed to do was pull
security. We had jerry rigged a shelter from the wind and sat down
and just began talking. First was a round robin of political issues…
For two hours I defended, explained and argued the liberal point of
view on almost every controversial topic to a very conservative
audience. It was one of those great conversations where people knew
they weren't going to offend anyone and people were actually
listening to each other. Then we moved onto playing drinking games
(without the booze of course) that lasted well into the night. When
I felt myself getting sleepy I would just pace up and down the
bridge.

As I reflected on the elections… I thought how odd it was for me to
be spending all my time here on Iraq on a bridge. Everyone in the
ARMY has a role and although not every role is as glamorous as one
would like it to be, each role is still vital to the success of the
whole. In that same vain, I was having trouble seeing how guarding
one edge of a bridge was going to help prevent the spread of
terrorism and encourage the spread of Democracy in the Middle East.
Right before dawn, it hit me… I couldn't imagine being at a better
place… then guarding a bridge that symbolized the transformation
from a monarchy to a democracy. I also remembered the countless
convoys of Iraqi soldiers that crossed over our bridge, being
escorted by US soldiers so that they could be placed at the various
polling sites. There must have been thousands of them hanging out
the side of their pick up trucks with no armor plating (or seat belt
I might add), wearing a ski mask for fear of reprisal against their
family and carrying an AK-47 rifle.  Each of those soldiers were
counting on that bridge being a safe route of passage and I began to
understand my piece in the bigger picture of things.

My shift was supposed to be over at 0600, but our leadership
implemented an old ARMY infantry tactic called a "stand two" which
dates back the earliest origins of the US ARMY. It is a common
tactic to attack a fortified position like ours in the early morning
right before a shift change when everyone is still groggy and not
awake. So the theory is to wake-up everyone a little earlier and
have everyone pulling security… literally standing two people in
every fox hole. So everyone was awake at 0500 and we were bristling
like a porcupine with our weapons preparing for the worst. Dawn came
and I finally got off shift around 0700.

Right before I passed out I had a very emotional and intense phone
conversation with my girlfriend about the challenges we face with
our long distance relationship. I do not want to get into any
specifics, other then afterwards I was sure that our relationship
was going to end. Thus instead of sleeping, my mind was racing at a
thousand miles a minute about what we had talked about. I had so
many phantom conversations with her that morning that I never really
fell asleep before it was my shift again.

At 1000 I admitted to myself that I wasn't going to be able to fall
asleep. I had to distract myself by being busy, so I volunteered to
go on a foot patrol of the surrounding area. I strapped on my aide
bag (another 60 pounds of gear) and set off with 9 other soldiers.
No cars were allowed on the roads, so it seemed as the whole city
was milling about. Kids were playing soccer in the streets, old men
were sitting on their chairs on the sidewalks and families were
walking in the middle of the road. We were all business as we walked
past everyone; it must have seemed an odd sight seeing soldiers
being so serious when everyone else was being so festive.
(http://patrickmcampbell.com/v-web/gallery/elections/E_FootPatrol)

We marched for about a click and a half, when we pulled off the road
into an abandoned lot on the river. We were about to set up an OP
(observation point), when we heard an eruption of gun fire near the
bridge. I heard one shot and followed by 20-30 shots being fired in
return. We doubled time back to the bridge, preparing ourselves for
a full battle. When we got back to the bridge, we found out that the
shots being fired were further down the river and everyone on the
bridge was just sitting there in awe.

With the bridge closed to everything except foot traffic and the sun
out… there were moments when we were just basking in the heat, like
lizards on a rock, finally thawing out. We searched a few people who
wanted to cross the bridge to go vote, but they soon returned saying
that the Arkansas unit had turned them back. For some reason we had
not been able to raise the other unit on comms (communications)
since we arrived, so Sgt. Hedge and decided that we were going to
personally escort this one voter across the bridge so he could vote.
Although I never saw a polling site or engaged any of the Iraqi
people in a conversation about the historic proportion of this day
or saw dancing in the street… I did escort this one man across the
bridge to go vote. We convinced the Arkansas unit to open their side
up to foot traffic and we searched pedestrians the rest of the day.

You could tell those people who voted because their right index
finger was covered with ink from the finger printing they did with
each ballot. The finger dipped in ink was a cross between an "I
voted" sticker and the ash mark on the forehead on Ash Wednesday.
All we could do as soldiers was to thank those people who had the
courage to vote, in their native language "Shorkran!"

From our bridge we heard numerous fire fights break out and mortars
land throughout the city. But we went the whole day without having a
single shot fired in our direction. It was as though we had a bubble
around us shielding us from the fight. The Arkansas boys were
constantly being engaged while we never once fired our weapons. In
post script, I believe full heartedly that we had been buffeted by
all the prayers said on our behalf over our journey. For that I am
truly, truly thankful! Election Day came and went and we were still
on this god forsaken bridge.

Monday 31Jan05
We all had hoped to leave our post at 0600… but word came down that
we had to leave at 1200. However right around 1130, we received word
that we couldn't leave till 1800. We were tired, cranky and
extremely agitated. People were yelling at each other and tempers
flared. It is a wonder that a fist fight did not break out between
people.

All I wanted to do was cry… I hadn't eaten or slept in two days,
because my mind was so preoccupied with thoughts about my
girlfriend. Even the little kids knew something was wrong… They kept
trying to cheer me up… But nothing worked. I was feeling sorry for
myself. I kept thinking about why I would ever leave someone like my
girlfriend to volunteer to come to Iraq and guard a bridge. I had
thought about how much I had already sacrificed to be here and just
lost it when I thought that I would lose my girlfriend on top of it
all. At 1800 we said our goodbyes and loaded the Bradleys… only to
have to wait another 2 hours in belly of the Bradley for our escorts
to link up with us.

Everyone seemed to step on each other's last nerve and after a lot
of yelling, we finally arrived home after being on mission for 116
hours. Although I was starving, filthy and tired I spent the whole
night back working on repairing my relationship with my girlfriend.
Thankfully for both of us, we were able to work it out and I think
we are going to be stronger for the experience.

Election Post-Script
My good friend Dallas Lawrence likens this election to the collapse
of the Berlin Wall. I am much more reserved in my opinion of what
happened here in Iraq. I believe a free election in any country that
has come out from under the shadow of tyranny is a historic
occasion. However, in my humble opinion, this election did not
signal the collapse of the Iraqi insurgency like the Berlin Wall
signaled the collapse of Communism in Germany.

Our work in Iraq is far from over and although more then anyone I
want to be home with my family and my loved ones, we can't leave
till we ensure this experiment in democracy has been given every
chance to take root. But what do I know… I spent the election
guarding a bridge!

Website Updates:
Pictures from the elections:
http://patrickmcampbell.com/v-web/gallery/elections

New Patrol Pictures:
http://patrickmcampbell.com/v-web/gallery/album09?page=1

Take care of each other and thank you for reading down this far!

Shalom my friends,
Patrick Campbell Wf