'I Feel Like We Have a Purpose'

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'I Feel Like We Have a Purpose'
By BRIAN FITZGERALD
YAKIMA HERALD-REPUBLIC

CAMP IRONHORSE, Iraq ? The order to roll came minutes after sunrise. A convoy of 20 military trucks from two transportation companies rumbled through the gates of Navistar, the U.S. military checkpoint on the Iraq border with Kuwait.
Five Humvee gunships provided protection.
It would be more than four days and almost 1,000 miles before the drivers could relax.

Like the Yakima-based 737th Transportation Company, the two Army Reserve units in the convoy ? the Springfield, Mo.-based 459th and the Akron, Ohio-based 762nd ? were called up because their driving skills were in demand in Iraq. Unlike the 737th, the other two units have been hauling cargo for nearly a year with their own trucks, mostly in Iraq.

For several weeks after arriving a month ago at Camp Doha in Kuwait, the 737th has been guarding facilities and providing escort for convoys within Kuwait. Last week, it got the order to go into Iraq.

This first mission to Iraq is a test, of sorts, for the 737th. Some members of the company, back at Camp Doha, do not want to risk their lives in Iraq. Others are unhappy they weren't chosen for this mission, but if the 737th performs well there could be many more missions like it.

Though given a good scare, no one was injured and the convoy continued on to Camp Streicher.
Two of the five Humvees accompanying the trucks on their mission north carry eight soldiers from the 737th. The convoy hauls shipping containers filled with unknown supplies for an incoming Army unit.

The other three Humvees belong to the 459th and have been on more than 70 missions. Half-inch steel plating is bolted to the cabs and thick wire screens cover their hoods. The Humvees driven by the 737th are hand-me-downs from an outgoing company. Protection is provided by plywood, ballistic blankets and tons of sandbags.

Crossing the berm border into Iraq, the soldiers of the 737th snap photos. Children in ragged clothes run to the road to smile, wave and give thumbs-up. Most adults stare or don't look up at all.

"Kids don't know hate," says 1st Sgt. Vernon Hegler, a veteran of the first Gulf War.

The desert here looks different than Kuwait. There is more irrigated farmland, with small mud-wall huts and livestock all a stone's throw from the road. Burned-out husks of Soviet T-72 tanks and Iraqi armored vehicles litter the sides of the highway.

MSR Tampa, the main supply route from Navistar to Baghdad, is paved for all but an 80-mile stretch. Traveling in the middle of the convoy, the two 737th vehicles are engulfed in fine, choking dust.

In the back seat of the first Humvee, Hegler drinks another Pepsi, trying to stay alert, his M-16 rifle barrel poking out of the window.

Driving the second Humvee, Spc. Bob Sherwood of Selah hunches over the steering wheel while music blares from the cheap plastic CD player he hooked to the roof. First, "Convoy" by C.W. McCall, followed by country and rock favorites. He's in a good mood.

"I feel like we have a purpose. I want to do these missions," he says.

If the 737th does end up with more missions to Iraq in the 11 months remaining in their deployment, they'll find a far different place than that faced by their predecessors.

A place more stable. And more dangerous.

The roads are mapped out now, and the routes so routine that Iraqi children know what time to be by the side of the road to wave at the convoys or beg from the soldiers.

But insurgent attacks are difficult to guard against. A can, an animal carcass, a loose sidewalk flagstone can all hide death in the form of an IED, or improvised explosive device.

There hasn't been much chance for one-on-one interaction with Iraqi citizens, who try in vain to sell or trade items with the soldiers. The military does not allow soldiers to engage in trade with locals clustered along stretches of the convoy routes.
It's a 10-hour grind from Navistar to Baghdad International Airport, south of Baghdad. Here, military cargo planes descend quickly in vertical spirals in order to avoid ground fire.

Sherwood bunks with Grandview native Sgt. T.J. Rabe for the night on the canvas tops of their Humvees, while the rest of the 737th stakes out spots on the hoods, inside the armored backs and on the ground. It's surprisingly chilly, though the day was in the 90s.

The next day is Monday, when the company heads north to its destination, Camp Speicher. Located 100 miles north of Baghdad, the route is a four-hour slog, much of it through congested four-lane roads lined with locals, some of them glaring menacingly.

At 7 a.m., the convoy rolls again. A few minutes after departing, a rock thrown from an overpass slams face-level into the windshield of Sgt. Jeff Herrington's Humvee. The windshield holds, and the convoy speeds on.

The tension rises with the heat off the desert. The soldiers just grip their body armor around themselves tighter and concentrate on the road and surrounding environment.

Camp Speicher is named for a Naval aviator, Commander Michael "Scott" Speicher, who was shot down over Iraq the opening night of the first Gulf War. The camp feels like a safe place, and after their two-day journey, the soldiers are ready to relax. They visit both the PX, to buy snacks and Iraqi currency bearing Saddam Hussein's face, and the dining facility. Then they settle back to sleep on and around the Humvees.

The next day, Tuesday, starts out with news that the convoy, now empty of its cargo, will proceed to Camp Ironhorse, located in a former palace compound of Saddam Hussein in his hometown, Tikrit.

Sgt. Rabe and Spc. Fred Morisako start walking to the latrines, but Rabe remembers he's forgotten his cigars, so the two return to the Humvees.

That's when all hell breaks loose.

A mortar round comes in fast and low, emitting a high-pitched whistle that turns into a scream before it explodes in a fireball on the path where just moments ago Rabe and Morisako walked. Drivers from the two other transportation companies receive minor wounds.

Soldiers scramble to find their helmets and body armor, and hunker behind the Humvees, M-16s at the ready. But the shot was like most of the attacks from insurgents here: a hit and run.

Rabe now has a story to tell ? and a "lucky" cigar that he refuses to smoke.

The 737th and the convoy quickly pack and leave Camp Speicher, the soldiers still marveling at the close call.

"I didn't freak out. Right when I heard the whistle, I got down and grabbed my (helmet)," says Pfc. Beatriz Zuniga-Castro, a Yakima resident who handles a machine gun on top of the Humvee.

"There's no way you can defend against what we went through today," says Staff Sgt. Roger Hysell, of Prosser. "(The Iraqis) are telling us they don't want us here."


The convoy heads to Tikrit, passing U.S. soldiers sweeping for explosive devices along the highway medians. Saddam Hussein is still popular here.

A new sign, "Welcome in Tikrit" gives a friendly, if puzzling greeting as the 737th pulls into Ironhorse.

The convoy's trucks are here to be loaded with vehicles from the 4th Infantry Division's headquarters company, but the loading takes longer than convoy commander Staff Sgt. Keith Nash planned. It's nearly 5 p.m. when he gives the order for the convoy's drivers, and the 737th, to stay the night.

Saddam's palace occupies the highest point of land in the area, overlooking the Tigris River. Rabe and Herrington want a tour but don't anticipate what they hear next: They can spend the night in the palace, out of reach of the mortar and rocket-propelled grenade attacks that occur nightly.

"To be getting shot at and mortared one minute, and be in Saddam's palace another, it's unreal," says Herrington of Spokane.

"It's the strangest day of my life," Morisako says as he lights a cigar on the third-floor balcony. "I can't even believe it."

Before the group goes to sleep, Hegler gathers his soldiers to review the mission. The next day, they'll travel more than 500 miles of road back to Doha. Now, they understand just how dangerous that road can be.

"It was a good learning experience for us," Hegler tells his troops. "We've got a lot to take back with us."

He asks how his soldiers are doing, and if they are glad to be doing this mission. He gets seven "Hoo-ahs" in response.


BRIAN FITZGERALD/Yakima Herald-Republic
Sergeant First Class Jeffrey Day, left, Sgt. T.J. Rabe, center, and Specialist Bob Sherwood keep alert with M-16 rifles at the ready as they drive past Baghdad toward Camp Speicher, located about 170 kilometers north of Baghdad.

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BRIAN FITZGERALD/Yakima Herald-Republic
Specialist Fred Morisako, center, relaxes with a cigar on a third-floor balcony of a palace built for Saddam Hussein in his hometown in Tikrit.

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BRIAN FITZGERALD/Yakima Herald-Republic
Iraqi girls wait along the side of MSR Tampa, a main supply route into Iraq, for handouts from soldiers passing by in convoys. Although military regulations prohibit the practice, soldiers moved by the sight of hungry children will part with MREs and candy.

[sn-e3]

Nice story

[sfc_darrel]

We'll keep posting them as long as they keep the reporter there