Kicking Bombs Read online

  Tripe whispered to me, ‘He’s a fucking general! Even if he did ever end up in Iraq he would be polishing a seat in one of Saddam Hussein’s old palaces in the safety of the Green Zone, tactically shuffling paper and complaining that his coffee was cold!’ It’s true. Someone of his rank would never leave a safe zone without either being in a chopper or sitting in the belly of a bloody big armoured convoy. The same soldiers he was giving his heartfelt lecture to would be patrolling places like Falluja and Sadr City praying they wouldn’t get their heads blown off. We were on the plane and ready to take off when we experienced the first of many disappointments to come. It was a dry flight. Bugger! A few hours later we arrived at Frankfurt Airport in Germany. Instead of being allowed the privilege of going into the public areas and duty free shopping during our three-hour stopover we had to remain in an area staffed by US hosts who reminded me of the USO people you would see in old war movies entertaining the soldiers. I managed to get to a door that opened outside of the building itself and saw snow for the first time in my life. The majority of the people inside were amazed that most of us Aussies hadn’t seen it before. I attempted to explain to them that I come from a place called the Sunshine Coast, and there’s a good reason why it’s called that. Anyway, snow was exactly as I imagined it would be — cold and wet. Give me Enoggera any day.

  3

  Arriving in Baghdad

  Improvised Explosive Device

  Improvised explosive devices (IEDs) have been around since the advent of explosives. Almost every war for the past 100 years or more has had some sort of IED. During Vietnam, for example, the Vietcong even put charges inside empty soft drink cans because the US soldiers used to kick cans while they were patrolling on roads. The big advantage the Iraqis had was the fact that millions of pieces of high explosive munitions were scattered all over the country. Most IEDs are quite simple — nothing more than a main charge (a few anti-tank mines), a booster charge (a bit of C4 or something similar), a detonator of some sort and some way of remotely setting the whole thing off. Most of the IEDs in Iraq were very simple with nothing more than a couple of HE projectiles or landmines, a booster charge with an electric detonator, a length of wire and a battery. However, some of the hi-tech IEDs included such things as mobile phones and even automatic garage door openers so they could be detonated at a safe distance.

  We flew into Kuwait around 4pm and landed at Camp Doha, one of the US bases set up during the first Gulf War. We got off the plane and onto a bus driven by one of the locals. All of the curtains were drawn so you couldn’t see outside. One of our boys, Dunno, pulled them back from his window so he could get a look at whatever the view had to offer and one of the civilian Americans went ballistic — raving on that they were drawn so no one could see who was on the bus, that we could be travelling through secret areas that we didn’t have the security clearance for, and blah blah blah. He even mentioned the possibility of snipers in the area. He just went on and on like the total idiot he was until the female US Army corporal who was escorting us told the bloke that the curtains were actually drawn because the air-conditioner was busted and the driver was trying to cool the bus down. The whole busload erupted into laughter, putting this idiot right in his place. As it turned out I ended up spending a year with this fool and he never improved; I’m extremely surprised that no one bashed him.

  By time we were processed there we were sent to an area where we were told we could stay the night. It was nothing but a few broken old army cots outside under the stars beside an old hangar, but we were all very jetlagged and slept like the dead.

  The next morning we walked a couple of hundred metres and got on a C130 flown by the Missouri National Guard and took off for Baghdad. We were all amused by the fact that the crew didn’t mention one safety point before take-off. They basically just waved us on board up the rear ramp, we sat down, and they started up and took off without a single word being spoken by anyone. The flight itself was no different to the many hundreds I have taken during my army career but it felt different simply because I was now nothing to these guys but a civvy and was being treated as nothing more than cargo with a heartbeat. We arrived in Baghdad and were piled into a bus and shot off to Camp Victory. Victory was where Saddam Hussein’s main palace was located before the place was blown to shit by the US Air Force earlier in 2003. The whole place was built around a huge man-made lake and he’d had dozens of mansions built surrounding it that used to belong to his family and head political assistants and so on. We stayed in an area lovingly called the farm; it looked like an old dairy milking shed. This whole area use to be covered in deer and exotic animals like antelope. Apparently Saddam even had his own lions in cages near his palace. I saw a lot of old and empty bird aviaries in the area; obviously someone either let them all loose or had a feed of braised budgerigar for dinner. We had about a week in Camp Victory prior to heading to An Najaf so we spent most of our time wandering around the palaces having a look at how ‘poor old Saddam’ used to live, and this was only one of God knows how many of his palaces he had.

  The huge lake in the centre of the palaces was stocked with fish. Saddam had water filtration systems set up through the lake with fountains scattered to aerate the water. There was a sort of water plant that was taking over everything and needed constant cutting by men in punts to stop it from taking over and turning it into a swamp. Incredibly the US Military was paying a team of locals to keep it clean. Saddam’s main palace was a sight to behold; the doors were huge solid teak monsters with gold fittings and the chandeliers were all made of crystal. The largest of them hung in the main entrance and had to be at least 20 metres long with the main staircase spiralling around it. Saddam’s main bedroom had a bomb go off in it during the main attack on Baghdad and although it was obviously damaged you could still see the ornate designs on the ceiling and walls. His en suite had a gold-encrusted toilet and bidet and a sink with gold-plated taps. The tile work was amazing. What else would a half-dozen Aussies do when confronted with such an opportunity? Get photos of each other taking a dump in Saddam’s crapper of course!

  The air strikes carried out on the palace area during the war were extremely accurate. The main bridge leading to the palace had a direct hit dropping it into the lake. What used to be the main air-conditioning unit was completely smashed. The only reason we could deduce for taking out the palace’s air-con was that it would have given off a huge heat signature, and a pilot flying using infrared could have easily been mistaken for a group of armoured vehicles parked inside a building. The new military establishments are all built in areas like Saddam’s old palaces or government areas. The largest of these is no doubt Camp Victory. It now resembles a huge military base with tens of thousands of men based there and although they are mainly US soldiers there is a large component of other coalition forces as well, such as the UK, Australia, Poland, Ukraine, Georgia, Bulgaria, Denmark, Spain and at least a dozen other countries that were either based there or had representatives there.

  The command centre in Baghdad is known as the Green Zone and is where Saddam’s old government buildings and some other palaces were. An area was sectioned off not only around these large ornate monstrosities but around hundreds of civilian houses as well. The small houses commonly known as villas meant instant wealth for those Iraqis who owned them. The need for ex-pat companies to have an office in the secure area was a must and obviously the employees within those companies needed accommodation. Immediately after the Green Zone was established by placing a 3-metre high concrete and razor wire wall around it the rent on these buildings inside the perimetre was worth a small fortune.

  A small four-room villa with no windows or doors, no bathroom, toilet, electricity or water could easily command up to USD$8000 a month for rent. Renovating these buildings would cost at least $50,000 and that’s without furniture. Then just to top it off the landlord would insist on 12 months’ rent up front, knowing full well that he would soon own a fully renovated, well looked
after house that he could get at least $10,000–12,000 a month for in a year’s time when the contract expired plus get another year’s rent in advance. The majority of these owners lived in Amman, Jordan and only returned to Baghdad on very rare occasions and only when it involved money.

  There were some huge rorts going on throughout the Green Zone and dozens of companies had been stung by it but realistically they had no choice. If they wanted a villa in a safe and secure area like the Green Zone they had to pay the price. If they didn’t there were a hundred others lined up that would. People posing as owners took huge amounts of money from companies wanting a villa, then after all of the renovation was completed the real owner would turn up and either kick them out or charge them the same amount of money again. Unfortunately because so much of the national infrastructure was destroyed during the bombings many real owners didn’t have any proof of ownership and had to go through lengthy procedures to be legally recognised as owners. Consequently when a company talked to who they thought was the real owner of the property more often than not he didn’t have any proof of ownership.

  The security around the Green Zone was as tight as you could get. There were only a handful of entrances and each one had its very own Abrams tank parked overlooking the checkpoint. To get into the area you had to stop approximately 100 metres from the gate and hold your identification outside the window so one of the soldiers could check you out with a pair of binoculars. This was a complete pain in the arse for us because we had armoured cars and had to open the door and stick our arm out through the top. They would then wave you forward over a dozen speed bumps that were so high they often dragged along the chasses of the car as you drove over them.

  Then there was the armoured door that weighed at least a hundred kilos trying to close on your forearm with each bump. On approaching the guard at the gate he would check your ID — either a US contractors card, military ID from another country, or an Iraq-wide coalition ID which was issued mainly to Iraqis and nationals like the thousands of Filipinos who were employed by organisations directly contracted by the US Government. If you didn’t have an authorised ID card there was no way you would get in, regardless of who you were, what passport you held or what reason you had for needing to get in.

  Later on during the deployment we even had trouble getting in when we had to go and get new ID cards because the originals had expired. We arrived at the gate and were told by the soldier that he couldn’t let us in because our IDs had expired. We explained to him that the reason we were there was to get them reissued. His orders clearly stated that he was not to allow entry to anyone with an expired ID and in fact he had to confiscate the cards from the holders. My obvious question was, ‘Well, how are we supposed to get them reissued if we can’t get into the issuing office?’

  ‘That’s not my problem, sir. I’m just doing my job.’

  He then proceeded to take all of our cards from us. Later that week we returned with someone who had escort privileges and turned up at the pass office only to be told that we needed our old IDs to have them extended. When we explained that we’d had them taken from us because they were out of date the soldier at the desk said. ‘That’s not my problem, sir. I’m just following the rules.’

  We had to return a further three times before we had our IDs reissued. US Military intelligence!

  Even though these soldiers on the gates often had the IQ of a box of rocks I did sympathise with them as their duty was no doubt one of the most dangerous in Iraq. If a suicide bomber in a vehicle borne improvised explosive device (VBIED) attempted to get into any of the secure areas in and around Baghdad he would more than likely be discovered at these gates and almost always would detonate himself when he was found out. During the gate entry procedure every civilian vehicle was completely searched and even had bomb detection dogs go over and through the vehicle. It was when they saw the dogs and knew their explosives would be discovered that they would scream out ‘Allahu Akbar!’ (God is great!) and detonate their bomb. Every entrance into the Green Zone and even the main entrance to the Baghdad International Airport had evidence of past vehicle born improvised explosive device (VBIED) explosions with concrete barriers known as T walls or Jersey barriers pitted from shrapnel. The walls of buildings and steel railings had thousands of holes blown through them and the asphalt roads had shallow pot holes and scorch marks showing exactly where bombs had gone off.

  I remember when a female Italian journalist and a member of the Italian Police were shot on entry to the airport in 2004. Really it was the driver’s fault, because there are dozens of signs warning that lethal force is authorised if you don’t comply with instructions. Apparently their car approached the checkpoint at a very high speed and to a soldier standing there carrying out this extremely dangerous duty it was simply another attempt to blow him up. Everyone within a hundred metres opened fire on the car and it was simply the right thing to do in that situation. Of course, it was tragic that anyone was killed but it could have been avoided by following instructions. It is a war zone after all.

  Driving around Baghdad was an extremely dangerous thing to do. Not only did we have to put up with the terrorists but also every single person in any form of uniform. The Iraqi Police are as corrupt as you can get and simply can’t be trusted. Many of the attacks on ex-pat vehicle convoys have occurred within hundreds of metres of police checkpoints and the police have never responded. A couple of poor bastards from a South African security company working in the Judrea District stopped at a police checkpoint and to this day have never been heard of again.

  The Iraqi Army on the other hand are shit-scared of everything that moves and will open fire at the blink of an eye and run away as fast as they can. Whatever training they get is soon forgotten as soon as a few bullets are fired. But it’s definitely not the general rule throughout the whole army. I got the feeling that anyone who was any good at being a soldier was posted into the front line units patrolling the Bad Lands and all of the oxygen thieves were manning security posts and checkpoints around Baghdad where the mighty US Army could come to their aid if needed.

  The mighty US Army forces that were based in Baghdad during the early stages of the invasion had it the worst of everyone. They were so gun shy that if you even thought of driving your vehicle within 100 metres of any of their military vehicles on the road you could expect to get shot at. On one occasion I was driving towards the airport when I was merging onto the main road and was confronted by a dozen hummers with GIs sitting in the turrets with .50 cals swinging around all over the place. Suddenly I had a round ricochet off the road in front of me. I got the point and slowed way down and got the hell out of their ‘personal space’. There’s a lesson there for everyone; don’t crowd a soldier with a .50 calibre machine gun when he’s scared. All of their concerns, however, were completely justified as everyone in Baghdad hated the US convoys travelling along the roads and the US convoys hated everyone else travelling on the roads. It was a hate–hate relationship. Regardless of whom you were or where you were going. Most of the convoys would travel at a snail’s pace and because of the 100-metre rule it was impossible to overtake them. You could try, but 99 times out of 100 you would end up dead.

  The US Forces aren’t the only danger on Iraqi roads. For some reason the national sport seems to be who can be the worst driver in the country. Driving the wrong way up a major highway is normal practice as is going the wrong way around roundabouts and intersections. There is no speed limit whatsoever and the police don’t enforce any traffic laws at all. I’m not even sure if there are any traffic laws. I suppose the fact that the country is constantly swept by war and violence makes a simple traffic violation nothing worth worrying about. The fact that almost as many people die in traffic accidents throughout the country as are murdered every day doesn’t seem to matter.

  Travelling on the main roads has another deadly aspect known all too well by anyone who has been into Iraq during the war — roadside improvised explosive devi
ces known as IEDs. They are placed anywhere where they can expect a kill. The size of these bombs varies from a single hand grenade or a few kilos of high explosive surrounded by nails and ball bearings to a 2000-pound bomb designed to be dropped by bomber aircraft. The enemy places them in areas that military or civilian convoys will travel by at some time the next day. Although they are commonly detonated simply by having an electrical wire leading to the device and setting the bomb off using a car battery as the electrical source some of the bombs are really quite skilfully set up using mobile telephones to transmit and receive the signal and detonate the explosives.

  The enemy was very skilled at hiding these deadly surprises, often making them look like any piece of the billions of tonnes of rubbish that line every single inch of Iraqi roads.

  4

  An Najaf

  General Purpose Bomb NASR-9000

  Made in Iraq. Even though the Egyptians originally designed and manufactured these big boys, the Iraqis copied them right down to the paint colour. The smaller versions of these were mainly incendiary bombs even though they looked similar. General purpose (GP) bombs are usually air-dropped and combine the effects of both blast and fragmentation. They can be used against a wide variety of targets therefore are probably the commonest type of bomb used. They are often identified by their weight, but this can vary depending on the carriage and guidance systems.