Case and point

So long, Iraq

2006-07-15T00:32:00.000-07:00

This will very likely be the last entry for this deployment.

Five of the twenty people in my unit are already back in the States. Two had to leave early because of family problems, the other three are our advance party who are supposed to help our de-mobilization in Fort Bliss. The rest of us have been hanging out in Camp
Ali Al-Saleem, Kuwait for the last few days waiting for a flight home. Say: Ali Al-Saleem. Rolls right off the tongue, doesn't it?

Life down here has been sluggish and boring, but not as hot as when I was here in August. Thompson, Poland, Robicheau and I discovered a USO building where it was possible to play Halo 2 all day if you didn't mind waiting or crouching around a small screen. We didn't.

I think Ali Al-Saleem has to take the cake for the most laid back US base in the Middle East. Not even Anaconda (called "Shamaconda") comes close. Everyone here is in transit to or from R&R or to or from a deployment. The officers return salutes half-heartedly and some people slouch around in civilian clothes. Why not? Who cares? Myself I went without shaving yesterday and it was liberating.

Hopefully the freedom bird will come in tonight and I will soon be able to enjoy more freedoms in the good ol' U.S.A. Hooah.

All hail Sheik Spencer

2006-07-03T00:32:00.000-07:00

Salaam.

For those of you who are not Middle East scholars like I am, “salaam” is the Arabic word for “peace.” When accompanied by a hand-over-heart gesture, it can mean “hello” or “goodbye.”

Over the course of this deployment, I’ve picked up on several Arabic words and phrases, some useful, some…well….not. “Shway-Shway” means step-by-step. “Shukran” means “thank you.” “Jundi” means “soldier.” “Mongoli” is an insult the jundis throw around that is similar to the American word “fag.”

In the last four months I have really been serious about learning to read, write and speak Arabic. Sgt. Marshall Thompson had been trying to learn the language since before we reached Iraq and trying to convince me to join him, but I figured the attempt would be futile. Then one day, in April, I think, I found a “Beginners Arabic Script” guide while searching through a box of books donated to troops. On that particular day I was far ahead on my stories and figured “what the heck.” (“Heck,” by the way, has no Arabic translation.)

I took the book home and started copying pages of each character. I showed my work to an Iraqi interpreter who went by Gus. Gus was impressed and agreed to give me free tutorials. I only visited Gus a few times before he became too busy to give lessons, but before I left Tallil, he gave me a first grade level Arabic work book he got from the Iraqi Ministry of Education.

Since returning to LSA Anaconda, I have continued my education in Arabic. I signed up for online Rosetta Stone Language courses, available free through the Army. The going has been slow, but I’ve picked up on words for “car,” “boy,” and “airplane.” I signed up for Idaho State University’s new Arabic program though I have all my foreign language credits out of the way with Spanish. I’ve even been looking into foreign study courses in Egypt or Morocco.

Okay, so I’m not exactly a scholar yet. I’m not even sure I have a firm grasp on the letter “H,” which has six different forms depending on what letters come before it and where in the word in appears. I’ve got a long way to go, but as the Iraqis would say, “Shway-Shway.”

Picture: This is me pretending to be a civilian reporter for an Iraqi Army training exercise in Al -Kisik. I accidentally saluted a sergeant major dressed like this. He looked at me like I was smoking crack.

Iraq therefore I am

2006-06-04T22:01:00.000-07:00

For a while, I thought this BLOG was finished. Done. Over with. (If you noticed, I didn't have a single entry for the month of May and I haven't had a single comment for four entries.)

That is, until yesterday. I learned from my dad over the phone that he ran into someone who really wanted to read all this mumbo-jumbo, but my dad didn't remember who it was.

If you do exist, secret fan, this BLOG entry is for you. I hope you enjoy it because, in all likelihood, no one else will:

I am now back at Anaconda leisurely passing my last few weeks of the deployment. Everyone in the unit has stockpiled stories so that we would have a little time with no work before the replacement unit arrives. As it turns out, we've got a lot of time. I'm trying to make this time productive by studying Arabic on online Rosetta Stone language courses, provided by the Army for free, doing my homework on my Media and American Politics class from BYU Independent Study, and releasing my artistic energy through various creative writing projects, including this.

Last Monday I was doing something less leisurely: serving my second and, I hope, my last guard tower duty. My partner and I spent two four-hour shifts staring aimlessly into the flat country, looking for anything that appeared threatening. Nothing did.

The guy I was stuck in the tower with was Sgt. Jason Baldwin, a communications expert of I forget which unit. Interesting guy. Why is it the soldiers I have tower guard with always remind me of the strange people who sit next to me on buses?

Baldwin, however, was a pretty good guy. I found this out because when you're in a guard tower, you find yourself rehashing all kinds of anecdotes to total strangers just to keep your bored brain from petrifying. I learned about Baldwin met his wife while he on leave in Germany; they were attracted to each other even though at the time he spoke no German and she spoke no English. Now they've got two kids, a four-year-old boy and a daughter (of I forget how many months) whom Baldwin has never met. He told me about how he looked forward to reading books like "Green Eggs and Ham" to his children and how he worries about their grades even though they are too young to go to school.

Of course, I heard numerous stories about the son he had spent time with. I laughed when Baldwin told me that, at three years old, his son figured out how to rig up a Playstation before he did.

I didn't have anything to match stories like that, but told him a few stories from basic training and my deployment.

This particular guard duty we had more than conversation to keep us amused. On our first shift, some of the locals came very close to the perimeter fence to burn brush and graze their sheep. One of them, a man of maybe 40 years old, broke out singing and dancing. When Baldwin tried to sing along with the Arabic chorus, the locals found him very comical.

If our interaction with other cultures was always like that the world would be a whole lot better.

Back in Tallil

2006-04-29T02:59:00.000-07:00

Just about every job in the Army has its perks, but public affairs has more than normal. Without a doubt, one of the biggest perks is the ability to escape a bad situation by fleeing to another base to cover units. That's what I did yesterday.

After spending only a week at Camp Anaconda, the largest and most anal base in the Middle East, I hopped on a sherpa with my duffle bag, camera and laptop to seek refuge in Tallil, that oasis of sanity in southern Iraq.

My reasons for leaving were manifold. First, there are simply no stories to cover without resorting to such desparate page-fillers as "DFAC employee strives for excellence" and "What you didn't know about uniform regulations (and, in all likelihood, don't care to know)."

Then there is the fact that the public affairs office in Anaconda is currently under renovation. We spent an hour one morning playing Tetris with the large, oddly-shaped desks in the Q-room so that the Turkish workers had access to the walls to work on the wiring. Everyone who once worked in that room had been displaced into other makeshift offices. The writers were working in what used to be the broadcast room and the broadcasters are working in the conference room. Getting a phonecall to the right person over the noise of the construction machinery was a headache.

If that wasn't enough, the personal noises eminating from the adjacent trailor were making sleep difficult. Even my headphones could not conceal all the moaning and grunting. I was surprised to find the trailor in the same place the next morning.

Suffice it to say, here I am.

Freaky weather

2006-04-24T21:52:00.000-07:00

The sandstorm started as a brown smudge on an already gloomy sky. It appeared in the southeast at about 3:20 p.m. and covered the entire sky by 3:25 p.m.

A few weeks ago, I was in another sandstorm in Tallil. I watched it come in with almost supernatural speed, blocking out the moon and the stars. The howling of the wind was so loud that I had to yell to communicate the to guy I was playing chess with across the table at the MWR building. On my way back to my trailor, I saw the porto-johns that had been in a neat row thrown into a pile and covered with flies. The next day I saw more signs: some of the windows at the 16th CSG headquarters building, where my office was, had been broken, trees and street signs were uprooted and the southeast corner of every building was plastered with mud.

The one yesterday did not have quite the same intensity, but it was eerie in its own way. The strangest thing about it was the color of the sky--it was not brown, but a dull, glowing orange that reminded me of lava. It, too, had a phase where the wind was blowing so hard it shook my trailor, and for a while, knocked out the power. A few times I peeked out the crack of the door in curiousity and I could see debris blowing and feel the rain come down in heavy drops. The wind was blowing so strongly that I had to hang onto the doornob with both hands to keep the wind from yanking it out of control.

A few hours later, there was hardly any sign that a storm of any sort had occured, (except the tarp tied to a heavy beam, used to provide a shaded area between my trailor and the one adjacent to mine, had been knocked down.) There was even a beautiful sunset.

Strange country.

Of bombs and Bosnians...

2006-04-22T09:49:00.000-07:00

A Bosnian bomb technition admires his find--a corroded blasting cap. In 2003, the U.S. destroyed a massive weapons cache.

About a month ago, I wrote what could be the best piece I’ve ever done, in or out of a combat zone, on a Bosnian explosive ordinance detonation (EOD) platoon. Unfortunately, I could not upload any of my photos using the computers available in Tallil, so I had to postpone this post until now.

The story, which made the front cover of Anaconda Times April 9, won the accolades of my superiors officers as well as Monte Morin, a Stars and Stripes journalist who covered the same unit the week before I did.

Here they are laying the explosives down to be detonated. I got to witness one of these explosions, but was a little disappointed. One thousand meters away I didn't even need ear plugs. Lame.

Brig. Gen. Stewart Rodeheaver, the commander of the 48th Brigade Combat Team, stopped by to see the work the Bosnians were doing. Here, he examines a mortar the technitions were busy excavating. So that's what they look like...

Negligent discharge policy needs change

2006-04-22T09:31:00.000-07:00

Staff Sgt. Tejeda and I were sitting in the dining facility in Tallil a few days back when we heard talk of a negligent discharge from the troops sitting next to us. On my way back to the office after lunch, we spotted a bunch of Air Force MP’s standing around the clearing barrels. So the rumor was true. Some poor servicemember had ruined his or her career by shooting a live round accidentally. (That is, unless the servicemember was an officer.)

This incident caused me to reflect on the stupidity of Army weapons clearing policy. Here are three reasons why the current policy is wrong:

1.) Obviously, the whole point of punishing negligent discharges is to reduce injury and death. Yet nearly all of the people who lose rank for negligent discharges are punished for firing their weapons safely into berms and clearing barrels that are made to stop bullets.

2.) Negligent discharges are punished so harshly that many troops avoid clearing their weapons properly. As one soldier told me “I never pull the trigger when I clear my weapon. If there’s a round in there, you’re just giving yourself an Article 15.” Rather than risk excessive punishment, many soldiers prefer to keep a live round in the chamber of their weapon, increasing the risk of an actual injury.

3.) I learned from Sgt. Marshal Thompson that FOB Diamondback actually did away with clearing barrels in order to reduce negligent discharges. That makes about as much since as raising the speed limit to 200 miles per hour to decrease incidents of speeding.

Negligent discharges outside of controlled environments should be punished as they are now, but those at clearing barrels deserve more lenient punishment. If the Army wants to decrease incidents of death and injury, it will alter the current policy.

Military envy: an epidemic

2006-03-31T09:27:00.000-08:00

You don’t have to look far to find seething sectarian strife in Iraq. Unfortunately, I’m not referring to the well-publicized spurts of violence between the Shiites and Sunnis. I refer instead to the pointless envy that exists between deployed U.S. troops.

For starters, Army troops are typically jealous of those on the Air Force side of the fence, who are deployed for much shorter periods of time, often don’t have to carry weapons around everywhere they go, and sometimes have better living conditions.

There is plenty of intra-Army jealousy to go around as well. More than once I have detected a whiff of arrogance coming from active duty troops when they learn that I am a reservist. Soldiers whose jobs require them to go off base on a daily basis have developed a new vernacular for those who remain on base all or most of the time, calling them “pouges,” “Fobbits” and Remfs (rear echelon mother F—ers). Then there are the troops in Kuwait who get the same combat pay as the troops in Iraq. Needless to say, soldiers in Iraq do not speak highly of them.

No one is quite as universally beguiled, however, as the civilian contractors, who often make more money for doing the same jobs troops do. Once, I saw a soldier walking past the Tallil headquarters of the contracting company Kellogg Brown and Root say “here’s my official KBR salute” and wave his middle finger in the air. Many a latrine in Iraq has been graffitied with slogans knocking the contracting group. One read ‘KBR: Keep Bush Rich.’

I would be speaking out of place to say everyone to quit their whining about how much worse they have it than everybody else. But I would suggest a little perspective. One thing being in the Army has taught me is there is always someone out there who is worse off than you. If you don’t believe it, read some of Ernie Pyle’s World War 2 dispatches. There are few, if any, troops in Iraq who endure the level of hardship that the troops did back then. Even the worst FOBs in Iraq have laundry facilities, showers and some form of internet access.

Instead of knocking the guy in Kuwait who had no control over his being mobilized there, it may be more psychologically helpful to count your many blessings, few as they may seem.

Out Misbehavin'

2006-03-21T08:44:00.000-08:00

A recent trip to Al Bakir Village confirmed what I already suspected about Iraqi kids—the steady supply of free stuff from well-intentioned folks in the U.S. has spoiled them.

On March 15, I went to deliver supplies to two local schools with a few soldiers from Headquarters Battery, 3-29 Field Artillery. Everything was going smoothly until one of the kids caught sight of a soccer ball mingled in with the boxes of pencils and notebooks. From there on out, I was swarmed with scores of kids demanding soccer balls. One of the more articulate brats said “Mister, Mister I am pupil at school. Give me soccer ball now.” Others just opened and closed their hands in the air as if to say “gimme.”

The kids seemed completely oblivious to the dangers of stepping right in front of a moving ten ton truck. As we left the first school to our next destination I had to pull several youngsters out of the way and continually check under the vehicles to make sure no one was crawling under them (some were).

Even after all the goods had been equitably distributed, the swarm followed the military vehicles to the next school a few blocks over. With the efficiency and team work of a colony of army ants, a dozen children piled on top of each others’ backs to breach the fence of the other school to get to the booty. Some of the older ones preferred a more subtle method of attack—the little kleptomaniacs pretended to help carry boxes into the other school but clandestinely hid coveted items in their shirts when they thought no one was looking.

As a few brawls broke out among the boys, the only vestige of authority in sight was the irate and overwhelmed schoolmaster, whose switch dealt swift justice upon any hand that grabbed something out of turn. I also saw one father carting off one of the boys and hitting him upside the head until he was crying hysterically.

I learned from the first sergeant in the convoy I was in that despite all the effort to ward off thieves, a quarter of the items came up missing.

Experiences like that make me think twice about programs like Operation Iraqi Children. It seemed to me that all this stuff just contributes to the general disorder of the country, rather than “endearing the people” or “winning the hearts and minds” or any other overused slogan.

On the way back to the base, I felt the hemmet vehicle I was in go over something. I joked it was either a speed bump or a first grader. Aggressive begging just isn’t cute.

Maupin labs not what they're cracked up to be

2006-03-11T10:20:00.000-08:00

Just as my head was deflating to normal size after having my opinion article printed in Army Times, another bit of my handiwork was picked up by the same magazine. This time the piece is a news article about the “openings” of two computer labs dedicated to Matt Maupin, the only soldier in Iraq who the Pentagon still has listed as “captured.” Though I am always happy when my articles receive national attention, I am beginning to think that this is a story that gives everyone warm, fuzzy feelings without carrying much weight.

The crux is that Matt Maupin’s parents, Keith and Carolyn Maupin, of Union Township, Ohio, remembered how their son had complained that internet provisions in Iraq were inadequate. They wanted to help troops stationed in Iraq communicate with loved ones, so they donated 90 computers for three new internet cafes at LSA Anaconda. On Feb. 14 I was present to report on the dedications of the second and third labs for the military newspaper Anaconda Times.

It sounds rosy, but I soon discovered a catch: instead of opening three new computer centers, the Army simply used the Maupins’ computers to replace the old computers in existing labs. Hence, the “new” computer labs are nothing but old ones with newer computers and pictures of Matt Maupin on the wall. This is not to say that the Maupins’ charity was a complete waste; it helps a little to have newer computer models. Even still, the Maupin’s intentions were clearly to allow troops greater access to the internet than before. That was not done.

My frustration at this was compounded by the steam of airy but meaningless statements issued from the command during the dedications. What irritated me the most was when a certain military leader claimed to have dedicated the deployment of a support unit to finding Matt Maupin. That was a nice gesture, but really, a hollow one. The most they could do is tell troops leaving on convoys “if you happen to see anybody who looks like Matt Maupin, let us know.”

To put it bluntly and perhaps a little rudely, being present at the dedications felt to me a little like be dragged to a church service of another religion. There was a sense that I was expected to be reverent combined with the suspicion that every one in the room was being fed a bunch of bologna. Despite the uniformed audience, beautiful a cappella rendition of the “Star Spangled Banner,” and the presence of two generals, the entire affair was just too intellectually empty to be touching.

Image: here I am dressed in full battle rattle--complete with my George-of-the-Jungle crotch protector--before going outside the wire, March 5.

'Haji' opinion evokes interesting responses

2006-03-01T08:26:00.000-08:00

My opinions have had a long history of ruffling feathers, so it's no surprise to me that my commentary on the Army's use of the word 'Haji' has gotten such a response. A few weeks ago I sent the article, which first ran in the Anaconda Times in January, to Army Times in the form of a letter to the editor. It ran in the Feb. 20 edition of Army Times, page 52 under the title "Calling Iraqis 'Haji' offensive." It was even complemented by a nice photo, which I did not take. Here are the letters I have received:

SPC Case,

Interesting article. One thing to include in any future continuations would be suggestions or recommendations for replacement words.

v/r,

CPT Travis Cain
7th Bn, 101st Avn Regt
Battalion Signal Officer
DSN: XXX-XXXX

Specialist Case,

I read (online) your article about the use of the term "Haji" for the Iraqi locals, whether friend or foe. That is a term that has been around the Army for many, many years, and your assumption that it stems from the term for those who have been on the Hajj may be in error.

I don't know for sure where/when it started, but the opinion of most older soldiers I know think it came from the old Johnny Quest cartoon program. Haji was Johnny's little brown-skinned buddy(hence its use for almost any southwest to east asian person). I would guess that more soldiers are familiar with that cartoon than with Islamic customs.

You are correct, however, in that the term is usually used in an unflattering way, and when we used to brief the COSCOM commander there at Anaconda (during OIF 1) using that term was a sure ticket to a butt chewing.

Hope all is well for you there. SUSTAINING THE LINE!

Steve Larson
LTC, USA (Retired)
PO Box xx
Livermore, IA xxxxx
Cell xxx-xxx-xxxx

Dear Specialist Case:

I hope that you will continue your writing and research because you have a gift for it. You are obviously an intelligent and well-educated man, but you have "come of age" during the era of "political correctness." I would also suppose that President Clinton was the President you knew of as you were growing up.

Your letter was very well written. But I cannot disagree with you more!

First, I'm unsure if we should even care whether we call Iraqis Haji or not! Consider, for a moment, what we might have called them!

Secondly, the story of Islam is a history of violent military conquest. Moslems were finally defeated in Europe near Vienna about 1712, and this ended, for 300 years, their attempts to conquer Europe.

Thirdly, Moslems are committed to the defeat of Western civilization as we know it, and the murder or forced conversion of Christians to Islam. It is not a religion that can successfully co-exist with a democratic or republican form of government.

Lastly, sooner or later we all choose sides and I can easily foresee in the next few years a union of all Moslems committed to the destruction of not only the State of Israel but also Christian civilization. As an American Soldier you have already made a commitment to defend the Constitution and the United States of America. I sincerely hope you will not abandon that commitment!

V/R,

Robin M Cathcart
XXXXXXXXXXXX
(I looked this guy up, he's a retired captain)

Well, there you have it--more proof that the Army needs to be enlightened by me. It's a rough job, but somebody's got to do it.

Terrorists, be warned: these guys are serious

2006-03-01T07:48:00.000-08:00

I don’t know what the Iraqi commando trainees were saying in their rousing Arabic cadences, but somehow I got the impression the message they wanted to convey was ‘We’re going to open up a can of Whoop-Ass on the insurgency.’

The date was Feb. 18. The location was an obscure installation in Baghdad. The event was “stress phase” of the Iraqi Special Warfare Center Commando Course—some of the toughest training the fledgling army has to offer.

My assignment was to write a story accompanied by pictures for the Anaconda Times, a military newspaper based out of Balad. As it turns out, the story ended up being one of the most photogenic and interesting in a long while.

With all the tumult that is going on in Iraq, it is nice to see that there are still people who are dedicated to securing the country and combating terrorism. ‘Dedicated’ is definitely the word that came to mind when I saw the exhausted troops carry logs up a hill after being drenched in cold water.

I had the opportunity to help Sgt. Ryan Poland, my broadcast counterpart, record brief interviews with three of the commando trainees. The first question I asked all of them was “Why did you come here to do this difficult course.” All three of them gave variations of the same thing: to protect their families, to take back their country, to stop terrorism. One of the three soldiers alluded to other “personal motivations” but would not elaborate, so I suspect it wasn’t all out of idealism.

Who am I to blame them? If any one asked me why I enlisted, I might very well answer “to serve my country,” knowing that I wouldn’t have been quite as patriotic had it not been for incentives like the G.I. Bill and the chance to gain writing experience.

I hope their decisions to join the Iraqi fighting elite pay off, whatever their real reasons may have been.

Instructors used "flash-bang" grenade simulators like the one above to create an element of chaos in the training environment. This one burned a small hole in my DCU trousers.

And I thought the Army hosed me...

To read my article on “stress phase” of the commando course, see the March 5 edition of Anaconda Times.

This entry has been censored

2006-02-26T03:15:00.000-08:00

Spencer Case: sage under siege. Photo by Staff Sgt. Engles Tejeda.

Last night, I had one of the biggest artistic epiphanies in a long while. I sat down at my computer and spontaneously wrote a 700 word BLOG entry about mortar attacks. It was one of the best essays I've ever written. Unfortionately, my command informed me this morning that all information about mortar attacks falls under "tactics, techniques, and procedures" and thus is OPSEC (sound of climactic violin music).

In retrospect, I can see the command's point about at least some of the information that particular entry. If I hadn't, I'd never have given it to them to double check. But it got me thinking about how easily worthwhile but politically incorrect information can be surpressed in the name of keeping soldiers safe.

I have been aggrevated by the Army's draconian OPSEC policies before. Earlier in the deployment, I was not allowed to publish pictures of Stryker vehicles because a certain infantry unit was paranoid that if the insurgents discovered the dimensions of the vehicle their security would somehow be compromised. Of course, the insurgents could simply look out the window and see the vehicle rolling past them in the narrow streets. Or they could look it up online with a simple Google search.

A few weeks ago, a free lance journalist named David Axe was stripped of his credentials and made to leave Iraq because he printed information about the Warlock signal-jamming system. An imbedded journalist like himself should have known better. Still, any insurgent with the internet search skills of a fifth grader could have found for himself. It seems unfair on some level that the journalist has to bear all the heat for repeating readily available information.

The Army's issues with the press go well beyond security concerns.

Consider the case of the article "Biggest base in Iraq has a small-town feel" by Thomas Ricks, the senior war corrospondant for the Washington Post. In the article*, Ricks takes the reader on a journalistic tour of the base, describing what items are available at the PX, what the speed limit is, how the Air Force, Army and civilians live in different parts of "town," etc. I've lived here seven months and I see nothing misleading about his discription. What could be more innocent?

Woe unto Thomas Ricks! Details such as this give the (accurate) impression that Balad is being run more like a garrison in the U.S. than a combat zone in Iraq. They also raise questions about the number of troops stationed here, since many troops in Balad don't even see Iraqis during their tour.

From what I've heard, the command at Balad is very unhappy about this article. Not because it endangers anyone's life but because the truth reflects poorly on the command. In fact, the Pentagon has been so pissed at Ricks for not pushing their propaganda in his articles that they had an unprecedented meeting with Washington Post editors to discuss their grievances a few months ago.

In my opinion, the Army could show a little more sensitivity toward journalists, who have freedom of the press. After all, if freedoms like that aren't important what are we fighting for anyway?

* The article can be found here: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/02/03/AR2006020302994.html

Skinny dipping anyone...anyone?

2006-02-22T08:37:00.000-08:00

Last week I had the opportunity to provide coverage for the 84th Engineering Battalion (Combat Heavy) as they used backhoes to clear a congested canal in Balad, Iraq. Canals normally need annual maintenance, but this particular canal, being less than a car bomb blast away from the American installation LSA Anaconda, is off limits to Iraqis and has gone untreated since the war broke out in 2003. The newly-cleared canal will provide water for over 1100 Iraqis in the Balad area. And believe me, in this part of the world they need to take advantage of every drop.

This is one of the most positive stories I’ve covered. The only thing that puts a damper on it is the fact that this is the responsibility of the Iraqi government, possibly the Ministry of Irrigation or Agriculture. I sure hope this does not lead to the Iraqis depending on the U.S. military to provide other civil services for them.

While I was covering the story I saw a bunch of Iraqi kids gathering across the canal watching us dig away. Maybe I’m crazy, but I find something comforting in the fact that all kids are fascinated by backhoes. All social, economic and political differences between nations are instilled sometime in adolescence; kids everywhere are the same. May they always stay that way.

I have some before and after pictures below to show the difference.

Here is what the canal looked like before the project. Eeeehhk!

And here it is 33 dump truck loads of sludge later. It still doesn't look like anything I'd readily drink, but consider the alternative.

Soldiers tour Biblical city

2006-02-09T11:25:00.000-08:00

I recently did a story on servicemembers in Tallil who have the opportunity to tour the ancient city of Ur, referred to in the Bible, I believe, as Abraham's birthplace. The story will be printed in the Jan. 19 edition of Anaconda Times. The pictures above shows servicemembers at the house of Terah, Abraham's father, which was rebuilt by Saddam on it's original foundation in 1999.

This is me standing on the stairway of the Ziggurat of Ur back in November sometime. Photo credits go to Staff Sgt. Engels Tejeda. La photo es muy excelente, mi amigo!

Flying over Iraq

2006-02-09T11:02:00.000-08:00

During interviews for Anaconda Times stories, I often ask my subjects what memory of Iraq will stand out most in their minds when their deployments are over. Sometimes I ponder that question for myself. My head has been so filled with new images, ranging from the smiling, camera-obsessed Iraqi soldiers at Al Kisik, to the orange glow of enemy tracer rounds on a roadside south of Baghdad, that it’s hard to sort them.

Even so, few things have been emblazoned in my neurons as vividly as the bird’s eye glimpses of Iraq I have gotten while flying between Coalition bases to provide coverage to far-flung units.

My first intra-Iraq flight was from Balad, my “home base” located about 25 miles northeast of Baghdad, to Q-west, which was about 170 miles north. I flew in plane called a sherpa, which could hold no more than ten or fifteen passengers. The sherpa leveled off almost as soon as it lifted off the runway, flying no higher than 200 feet, low enough to scatter sheep from the noise of the engines. I’m sure that is going to warm up the local shepherds to the occupation.

Much of that flight afforded a view of a brown, flat, sparsely vegetated terrain that would have seemed in place in northern Nevada. For a while, I considered what if I really was in Nevada, where the war was being simulated in a massive government conspiracy. (I never did see any casinos or whorehouses to verify my theory.)

About half way in to the hour long flight, we were flying over a body of water—either a lake or an extremely wide area in the Tigris River that took us several minutes to cross. At one point I saw an Iraqi kid standing up in a canoe waving to us from the middle of the lake.

A day or two later, I was initiated to another means of flight. Sgt. Ryan Poland and Sgt. Engels Tejeda, two fellow public affairs soldiers at the 207th MPAD, were doing a story on a Black Hawk helicopter unit that required a few minutes of aerial video footage. The crew of one helicopter was more than happy to take us along. Once we got we needed, they proceeded to demonstrate the maneuvering capabilities of the Black Hawk aircraft in a way that regulations tend to frown on.

Black Hawk helicopters quickly became my favorite mode of transportation, even when I wasn’t joy riding. Give me the deep, throbbing hum of the propellers. Give me low flights with the side doors open. You just can’t beat that with the ear-insulting shrieks and confinement of other aircraft.

I took my favorite Black Hawk flight early last September. I was working on a personality feature about a flight medic and decided to tag alone for a routine patient pick-up in Baghdad to get some photos. Approaching Baghdad by Black Hawk is a lot like standing on the edge of the ocean, only it is a man-made ocean of blockish, brown buildings peppered with mosque domes. There was one enormous dome in the middle of the city that was so large that I wasn’t sure if it was a man made object or a mountain. I later found out that in the Bradt Iraq Travel Guide that it was an uncompleted mosque, the largest in the world. It had been started by Saddam in the 1990s to help create the image of himself as a religious leader.

Since I arrived in Iraq in August, I have gone on more flights than I can count. Sometimes I see lush terrain, other times barren desert. Sometimes I see kids playing soccer in dirt fields, other times I see farmers trying to pump water from the Tigris River to irrigate their crops. Either way, it’s an adventurous feeling.

Epithets in Iraq: Army should avoid gray areas

2006-02-07T12:38:00.000-08:00

The following is a variation of an opinion article I wrote that was published in the Jan. 15 version of Anaconda Times under the title "Opinion: use of word 'haji' reflects poorly on the Army." I later submitted it to Army Times as a letter to the editor. Today, I received an e-mail informing me that Army Times will consider running it, though I do not know in what issue. I think the information in this peice bears repeating.

As a Reservist currently deployed to Balad, Iraq, I am offended by the casual use of the religious term “Haji” in reference to Iraqi locals. I believe that the constant misuse of the word by enlisted and officers and alike does not reflect the values that the Army stands for and may even hinder our efforts in the Middle East.

The American Heritage Dictionary defines “haji,” as “One who has made a pilgrimage to Mecca” and “A form of address for one who has made such a pilgrimage.” Not all Iraqis have made a pilgrimage to Mecca and a few Iraqis – 3 percent, according to the CIA world factbook – don’t identify themselves as Muslims at all. Thus, using the word to refer to all Iraqis indiscriminately demonstrates a lack of education about our host nation’s culture.

Beyond being inaccurate, the word “haji” is in danger of becoming a racial epithet, if it hasn’t already. The word awkwardly lumps together Sunnis, Shi’a, Kurds, and other identities into one label and often carries a negative slant. For instance, it’s hard to miss the slightly condescending tone when a Soldier says, “I got the hajji version of the DVD,” meaning the DVD is pirated or of low quality.

The negativity is more blatant when Soldiers use it synonymously with “the enemy” as in, “haji has sure been throwing a lot of mortars at us today” or “You’d better wear your eye protection so haji doesn’t blow your eye out with an IED.” Using a religious term this way is not only offensive, but might be seen as giving substantiation to our enemies’ claims that we are engaged in a war against Islam. If an Iraqi man finds out that U.S. troops are routinely using a word meaning “holy pilgrim” in Arabic in place of “the enemy” it’s easy to see how he might get the wrong impression.

Most of the Soldiers who use this term probably think of it as an innocent nickname rather then an offensive slur. However, history has shown that over time “innocent” nicknames can acquire negative connotations. An example of this is the term “Jap,” shortened from Japanese. One road in Jefferson County, Texas, named “Jap Road” in honor of a well-respected Japanese family had to be renamed because of the offensive meaning that came after World War II.

At best, calling local nationals “hajis” is an uneducated use of Islamic terminology that has not become fully epithetic. At worst, it is a racial slur that could marginalize the very people we’re trying to win over. Either way, we’re better off not using the term.

Troops of previous wars assigned unkind names to the Japanese and the Vietnamese and it came to reflect poorly on the military later. I don’t want racial slurs to mar our track record in this war. When it comes to racism, I prefer to stay clear of any gray areas.

Introduction

2006-02-07T09:59:00.000-08:00

It has taken half a deployment, but I, Spc. Spencer Case, have finally succumbed to the narcissistic compulsion to see my own life in glorified BLOG form.

Since this is my first entry, a little background information may be of some use. I am a 20-year-old print journalist for the U.S. Army currently deployed to Balad, Iraq with Denver’s 207th Mobile Public Affairs Detachment. I enlisted in the Army a little over two years ago while I was a student at Idaho State University in Pocatello, Idaho. I joined as a result of a few different factors. I wanted to pay for school and I wanted to see things that would inspire my writing. There may have even been a smidgeon of patriotism involved. At any rate, here I am.

Life in Iraq has its disadvantages of course. I miss some of the freedoms I had as a civilian (and probably didn’t appreciate.) But life isn’t all that bad. I’m on a base that has amenities that are so good that if I told you about them, you’d stop sending care packages. I am in a unit where I actually have friends, unlike Basic Training, and I generally enjoy the adventurous work that I do. As Confucius would say, “while in soup, might as well enjoy flavor.” So take a moment to wallow with me in the hearty soup of Army life.