Friday, 31 October 2003

16:30 – Baghdad. Halloween. There is a greater sense of unease in the palace, despite the respite offered by the cooler temperatures the past few days. One of our many enemies, Al Qaida, has been pamphleteering Baghdad for the past few days, calling for a mass attack tomorrow, the “Day of Resistance”. The most common rumor is that they intend to send five hundred men against us, in scattered packs across the Green Zone wall, then onwards towards the palace, where they will kill every thing in sight until they are wiped out by Coalition forces.

The Army seems to be taking this threat seriously, as more and more of them are carrying their weapons. Officers as well, even those who you thought had thrown off the practice long ago, are strapping on the Berettas and slinging the M-16’s. The Gurkas are wearing their flak vests now, as they guard the palace entrances, and they are a bit more stern than usual. I’ve seen less of the mercenaries, but they may be out trying to head off the opposition.

We were advised to stay close to our vests and helmets for the next few days, and I am heeding this advice for the most part. As well, I asked Captain Song for the five minute lesson on M-16’s – magazine placement, feeding a round, safety, fire, three round burst. Just in case.

Of course, I have yet to be issued a weapon, but I’m sure there will be plenty around if worst comes to worst. Personally, I’m going to find the basement if there’s time, or lock myself in the office if there isn’t. Let the professionals do their jobs.

Someone told me to stay far away from the mercs and PSDs (personal security detail) if there’s trouble. They only protect what they are paid to protect, so it may be real easy to get in the way of these guys.

Someone else told me that the Gurkas would go berserk in a firefight. If they enter a room hot, the best defense is to hit the deck and stay there, as they will shoot anything standing.

Swell.

I’d prefer to be armed while locked in the office.

No one’s freaking out just yet, but there’s definitely something in the air. In thirteen minutes, Ambassador Bremer is scheduled to lead a “Town Hall” meeting in the palace Chapel to discuss the security issues. I should leave now if want a good view.

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Bremer is around 50 years old, good looking and confident. To an SRO crowd of twelve to fifteen hundred churchmouse quiet attendees, he passed on the President’s thoughts that we are heroes already, for accepting this noble (and bizarre) assignment in service to our country. Also speaking was his deputy, Ambassador Kennedy, sunken chest and intellectual, who outlined palace-specific security measures. General Sanchez was there as well, who’s in charge of the Coalition Joint Task Force, and one of his Colonels, who is tasked with protecting the Green Zone.

Between them, they expressed their plans to protect us tonight. They have doubled the guard. Increased the armor at the gates. Upped patrol and ambush units on both sides of the wall. Gurkas have doubled up.

In case of an attack (“in case of”), Gurka air horns will sound two blasts, at which point we are to duck and cover ourselves with our helmets and flak vests until such time as we hear three blasts of the air horn. Force Protection will take care of the rest they say.

Bremer, under the watchful eyes of his Secret Service detail, then opened things up to questions. Armed military not otherwise assigned are to establish a defensive posture and comply with the rules of engagement. Civilians who are policemen in the States can carry. Civilians who are only civilians cannot. Kennedy answered this one, saying something like, “you would be a bigger threat to me than the attackers”. “… a bigger threat to HIM?” Fuck him. He’s got the god damned Secret Service to protect him. All I need is a PDW (personal defensive weapon). I won’t be offensive unless I have to! Hell, I’m gonna lock myself in an office far away from Kennedy and his personal security detachment, I’ll be no threat to him…. unless he tries to enter my locked office.

No one was particularly comforted by these speeches. Force Protection doesn’t have a clue. We left en masse for a sullen, Mexican themed Halloween chow.

Afterwards, I headed back to Baghdad Central. I sat in the comfy gilded sofa and was going to read today’s issue of Stars and Stripes, but was distracted by a magazine dedicated to aficionados of radio controlled aircraft. [Apparently, recent advances in brushless electric motors has made flying 100% electric planes and helicopters increasingly viable (although the hobbyist’s love affair with gas engines won’t be fading any time soon).]

I was further distracted by a close conversation between three British policemen bunked near me and an Army Lieutenant Colonel. The Bobbies thought it best if they deployed outside once the shit hit the fan, and tried to join in the defense of the palace. The LTC had a different plan for these men.

As they were only cops, they had very little combat training (except maybe their eighteen months in Bosnia). They should instead defend the interior of the structure and the people within. Maybe he didn’t actually include “people within”, but I would have like to have heard it. The Colonel surmised that the first Kolichnaya rocket would have little trouble breeching the exterior walls of our sleeping foyer. As the invaders (the Al Qaida invaders, not the Yankee Imperialist Dog invaders) swept through the foyer, the Bobbies were to fall back to the interior hallway and defend the stair.

At this, I recalled that there is a large magazine (not RC planes this time, but the room full of guns) at the top of the stair, turn left, ten meters, turn left, break down the door. I’m thinking of heading there before I go lock myself in the office (30 meters to the right of the top of the stairs).

This Colonel seemed more certain of the attack. Gung Ho Soldier Man. He also seemed certain that the attackers were already within the Green Zone perimeter. There are probably 5,000 Iraqi civilians living inside the outer wall. In a shining example of support for the Second Amendment, most homes are allowed one AK-47 for personal defense. With an average home size of ten, there could easily be 500 assault weapons here in the hands of the locals, besides what was hidden during the war or since the occupation. This is plenty for a massive suicide strike force.

Of the hundreds of people that enter the Green Zone daily, how many of them leave? How many remain hidden? How many are willing to die for their cause?

Maybe very few. Maybe a lot of dumb ones.

I’ll sleep with my clothes on tonight.