Da Goddess

Iraq stories, part 2

The first few days after we landed went by in a blur. We were given a day off so we could adjust our sleep patterns to something approaching the local times. I was pretty rested and eager to get a feel for the job since I had managed to crash right after I got to my tent, so I put in an appearance at the isolation shelter that was going to be my home away from home for the next 4 months. Our predecessors were surprised that I came in, but got me a head start on the inprocessing madness that always accompanies a transfer of personnel in the military.

My boss was scheduled for a rotator flight a week after my troop and I were already in Iraq, so for the first week I was going to be the one the base commander came to for answers if we had any issues. No pressure, none at all! Tim and I settled into a routine of daily activity. We were trying to take stock of everything that we would be responsible and see what equipment and supplies we had to work with. A few days into this routine we experienced a moment that will forever change my perception of the world.

At that time, the Explosive Ordinance Disposal (EOD) teams had set hours for performing controlled detonations to dispose of various items, from unexploded ordinance (UXOs – bombs that didn’t go off when they were supposed to) to improvised explosive devices (IEDs – booby traps and makeshift bombs created by terrorists) to munitions confiscated from the locals. (I know that Americans have a long tradition of bearing arms for self defense, but I do NOT want to meet the criminal that inspires you to store a rocket propelled grenade (RPG) launcher in the house!) During the hours that EOD was playing, it was common place to hear an explosion that was not generally announced. As such, nobody really thought about it when we heard a loud explosion on the morning of 12 November; everyone just assumed it was EOD and pressed on.

It took a while, but word finally reached us that EOD was not responsible; a suicide bomber had driven through barricades to blast the hell out of the Italian Carabineri compound in the city of an-Nasiriyah a few miles down the road.

Tallil AB has the only major military medical facilities in the southern half of the country. The USAF runs a hospital that treats the trauma patients and the South Koreans have a hospital near the front gates that provides medical care to the Iraqis. As such, we were notified to stand by to receive the incoming casualties from the bombing. I do know that the civilian hospital in an-Nasiriyah received most of the civilian casualties; I don’t know what the Koreans received. I did get to see entirely too much of what we received at the American hospital.

For a mass casualty incident, we need to free up all of the medics to actually treat the wounded. In the Air Force, there are a ton of people in the hospital who are support staff, not medics. As such, we are put into vital support roles such as security and manpower teams. Manpower performs everything that requires a body and muscles; patient transport, running for supplies, cleaning up, you name it. I ended up on a security team. My job was to assist with securing the incoming patients and ensuring that no guns or explosives make it into the hospital. Due to the need to do this as fast as possible, the fastest method is to cut the clothing off the people, do a fast search, then turn them over to the manpower team to take them to the triage area so a team can prioritize them according to medical need. This means that I saw every wound on every person that came in. I saw the guys with the faces full of shrapnel, I saw the Italian woman with wounds all over her body who kept saying “Thank you, thank you!” to us, and I saw the shattered body of a 2 year old Iraqi girl who was dead on arrival….

Of all the images that I have seen of wars, from WWI to Bosnia, nothing had ever really driven the horrors of war into me as emotionally as seeing this little girl, battered and broken, being carried off by one of our Security Forces troops. The cop had taken off his uniform blouse when we were getting ready to receive the first ambulance; I can see every detail in my head as I remember him cradling her to his chest as he carried her away, the blanket she was wrapped in contrasting with the black of his shirt…the look of determination on his face as he forced himself to concentrate on his work instead of letting the tragedy of the her shorted life get to him.

That particular death finally made me realize how monstrous people can really be. That child had no political stance that was objectionable to the terrorists. She was not an American that they could rationalize as a target because of her nationality. She was not being raised in a manner that they would consider immoral, nor were her parents working for the Coalition. She was simply a little girl that happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and a bomb triggered by some obsessed madman snuffed the flame of her life.

Our medical teams worked miracles that day, and of the many victims brought to them that day, only one other person was beyond their skill to save. I can’t express how proud I was to serve with them.

The bombing incident kept running through my head in the down time over the next few months, raising so many questions for me to contemplate. How could anyone be so brutal as to lash out with violence, no matter who might get hurt? How can a religion that preaches peace (Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, you name it) actually produce someone that can kill and claim God will accept it? I doubt that I will ever cease to be amazed at the things people believe God wants them to do….

Life doesn’t usually provide you much time to stare into your belly button and ponder the great questions of the universe; it has a nasty habit of forcing you to press on and get on with things. That being the case, life picked right up on the 13th and Tim and I continued to press on with the routine crisis management that is daily life in Bio. The days settled into a routine of hard work and very little sleep for several weeks before we were able to start rotating days off so we could get a break.

I won’t bore you with the details of the power struggles yet, other than to say that they existed, and no matter where they are, or what is going on around them, some people are so desperate for attention or power that they will do anything to get it. From the moment that my team landed, several individuals were out to carve their own empires, get their names attached to every project (even if it had NOTHING to do with their area of responsibility), and shamelessly suck up to their bosses. It’s amazing how much someone can really irritate you when you are forced into such close proximity for a long period of time. I am seriously amazed that the Army guys who are on 12 month rotations over there don’t have more incidents of people snapping and taking out their frustrations on each other. The 4 months I was there had me ready to start kicking ass and taking names several times. I suppose it’s a good thing that the head shrinkers were in the shelter next door…

The rumor mill was worse than anything I had ever seen before….

Posted by TSgt at May 16, 2004 09:32 AM