The best stories from my work in Iraq 2004-2006
KBS 2
Kan Bani Saad – The site of a 5000-man Prison that Parsons is building. One of the only Prisons on the world designed to keep armed attackers out and dangerous prisoners in.
Part 2 – I hope you can recall my previous uneventful drive to KBS.
Kan Bani Saad (KBS) is a hole. Nothing between Baghdad and KBS is of any note. It is hard to tell where the rubbish dump starts and the city ends. Some people call it home, as a stray cat with no choice calls anywhere home. I drive through it in 4 armoured BMW’s and I call it dangerous. Looking out at locals from my air-conditioned vehicle with satellite tracking and satellite T.V. My hand never leaves my rifle and my eyes never leave the road. I feel detached, like I am watching life on another world, desperate life struggling to fain normality. Some people look back, some people look away; some people look straight through the armoured glass, straight through you and pierce your gaze in defiance. I wonder what the eyes are telling me, nobody on the road to KBS has ever smiled back and I have never smiled at them. I admit, I look straight through everyone and the only reflection I portray is of seriousness. I don’t like to smile and those that know me know I only smile when I am in trouble; it is an aggressive mechanism for me and a trigger for cold action.
Nobody likes a prison in their neighbourhood and no body likes the neibourhood of KBS. A melting pot for criminal gangs and a Sunni dominated region. It makes sense to build the prison in the neigbourhood the inmates will be coming from. Perhaps it is designed to intimidate but if that is the case the locals stare straight back in defiance and that stare is backed by intent and the will to not see the Prison win. The first Iraqi contract company pulled out after their site foreman, and his construction manager were murdered on the site. The company that tendered second agreed to take on the project only if the security was made of local militia. The construction company didn’t care if it gets built and they get paid. Everyone is getting paid but not much is getting built, that is the way of Iraq. The Project Manager is from the US and he has to sign off on the progress for people to get paid and that sounds boring but it is why I am on the road to KBS.
Normally we have 3 armoured cars and a local recon vehicle but for KBS we take 4 armoured cars, two of which are 4WD, more men, more guns and more radios. Out of Baghdad goes to plan and in 5 minutes we are on the expressway, we pass 2 Iraqi Police checkpoints and an Iraqi army checkpoint. We pull up in the lead vehicle and press our IDs against the window, holding 4 fingers up to show we have four cars. The guard smiles each time and waves us through. We hold outside the checkpoint to cover the other vehicles as they slow for their passes to be checked, this makes the guards nervous as we like to face them so they know we are watching.
20km short of the Iraq finalist for the Tidy Town of the Year award – KBS, we approach another Iraqi Police checkpoint, 2 cars in pairs the others holding back. We pull up, we lift our ID’s to the window and the policeman wants the window down, we just hold the IDs up. An armoured car is not armoured if the windows are down and sitting still is not what you want to be doing for long.
The guard persists and taps on the window, he is not smiling. Our two vehicles behind moved closer and as the road is empty, approach slowly in the Centre of the road. As the guard notices them he steps back and waves us through. We go 50 meters and halt stopping to cover the other vehicles through the checkpoint. They are just waived through with smiles, but something doesn’t feel right, too friendly.
2km down the road as we approach a small town and the traffic increases the rear vehicle radios through that white bongo van has passed them, not unusual but they noticed it was waived through the CP directly behind us and faster than normal. It approaches our car and passes; I notice it has four men in it, all young, all looking straight ahead except for the front passenger who checks out our car. Not unusual either except things are starting to add up. The bongo van enters the town in front of us and as we enter the town our scout car radios that the town is clear, not many people around and traffic is clearer than normal. As we turn the first corner we see the bongo van parked 100m in front and things start to happen very fast, everything speeds up, everything looks closer than it is but everything is quiet.
The front car driver doesn’t need to be told, he guns the vehicle and powers off, we do the same and radio the two cars behind as a truck appears on our left, to the front, moving fast out of a side street. It looks like it is trying to ram the front car but it is not. It is just trying to block the road and the front car is clear. The front car has the client in it and he is the package, he keeps going. The two cars behind are closing, they are now 100 meters away but we are not going to make it. The truck has blocked the road and the Bongo van is coming back at us. We have to slow but the road is not wide enough to turn so drop the car hard right and spin through 180 degree, always keeping momentum always moving. As we spin I see the four men running at our car, four men with rifles, four men that don’t look like terrorists from Hollywood, they look like homeless guys with rifles. They run with a purpose. Us. No one is shooting and I am thinking kidnap, or they just know the car is armoured and don’t bother. Our car has spun 180deg and we can see our 3rd vehicle has pulled up 100meters away. I look left as we accelerate away and I see an Iraqi pointing his AK47 at me, he fires from 10 meters away, running and shouting but I can’t hear anything because all I can hear is sound of bullets hitting the car. I am not looking anymore, I am turning in my seat to watch, to face them. The car is pulling away as two guys are running beside the car shooting the tyres, emptying at least a full magazine into them on both sides.
I am smiling now. Cars become small when you are trying to get your rifle organised and weapons ready.
I look at one bad guy shooting at the tyres and hear more gun fire or more aptly, I see it. I see it hit the bad guy, not once but multiple times. He jerks but never looks up again. He just drops face first into the road. He isn’t smiling anymore. As we speed off I see two things. One, the other tyre shooting feind is also down; two the bongo van is driving, chasing us and as it comes after us he just drives over his friends. We have no tires; we are driving on run flats (tyres for armored cars so when they are blown you can drive for at least 50km). It is much noisier, and it feels like they shot the suspension out but we are driving away, the third vehicle is to our right, still shooting. Shooting at the Bongo van. There is two Iraqis (on our side) in this car, one is shooting at the bongo van, one is the driver. The British Expat is there too, shooting at the bongo van with a crew serve weapon (bigger machine gum) and we see the bongo van go from chasing us to dieing, swerving off the road and crashing high speed into a roadside building. We are now 50 m past the third car. The guys are getting back in the third car and the fourth car is in front of us now.
We look back having cleared 200m by now and see a hilux come around the truck. The hilux has men in the back. Armed men. We radio the first car and is safe, it has doubled back through the side streets and is now running parallel to us. 200m to our flank on another road. In another 200m the roads will merge and will form up again on the move. We are still being followed and we have a IP check point to go through, the same one that set us up on the way in.
We have 200m on the hilux and they are shooting at us. Shooting at as over their cab roof. How bizarre I thought, I remember trying to shoot kangaroos like that and remembered how the kangaroos were hard to hit when running. We meet up with the other cars and we are at the back, we have two run flats dragging us down and the hilux pressing us to the checkpoint. We have about 1km to the checkpoint and one rise and slight long left run on the approach. The front vehicle can see the checkpoint and our fears are abated; A US Patrol is there. Should mean no trouble from the IP but we must get the 4wd in front and slow down or they will take us as a threat. The lead vehicles slow down, put British flags in the windows. We slow down more. We are approaching the rise and I notice we lose sight of the other vehicles.
We cross the rise, still about 1km from the CP, the other cars are 150m from it. About now I can hear the TL talk to the IP and everything is cool, the US Mil have a look at US and see friendly faces looking back from the 4wd. The TL gets out and talks to the Marine Sergeant; he needs to know what’s coming and what’s happened. We decide they can’t see us, the bad guys cant see us and we are way pissed, we don’t like running. We can bring this down on the checkpoint or.
Being ambushed, set up with bad intentions and having to run away was not our daily plan. We leave the car on the road (in a dead spot) with the engine on, driver stays in and we get out standing behind the doors. No time to talk. We face up the road, weapons trained on the rise and 75m behind us the Hilux appears. Now the firing is one way. The Hilux is staring straight at us, stunned, it tries to brake and forces itself to jackknife in panic. It is side on now and the guys in the back are down, on the road, in the back. No seat belts in the back of a ute! One pom, one Aussie, two AK47 magazines and the Hilux is not moving. No one is firing back. In less than 15 seconds we are back in the car and moving again.
The CP knows we are coming and are waiting for US. Lucky the Marines know we are coming, and the IP are all friends and pals now. We approached slowly advising over the radio that the hilux just stopped chasing us, we couldn’t keep up because of the tyres and they just unloaded on us but must have stopped knowing the IP checkpoint was close.
We brief the Marines on the last place we saw the hilux and give a description. Well, we didn’t, we let the Team Leader do it. We just stayed in the car anxious to move, to get out of here. It was safe but your body doesn’t want to stop, not until you let it. Not until you are home. We drove home and the road to KBS now means something to us.
Point – this is a story. Any resemblance to anyone is purely coincidental.
Leaving Iraq is always a highlight of any visit. Full protection team to get one person to the airport on a 40 min drive down the hwy of death. The most attacked and bombed section of road in Iraq. When you get to the airport, the fun begins. About 40% of flights in an out are cancelled so leaving is always problematic. In about 11 flights out, 2 were on time, 4 were moved to the next day. 2 were cancelled. 2 worked within 2 hours of schedule and 1 was life threatening.
When people are leaving Iraq, they are often waiting for 6 – 12 months and get desperate to leave so the airport is a place of chaos. 2 flights a day to Jordon on commercial airline. You arrive 4- 6 hours early and waiting in the waiting area. No system, except, the Iraqi guards let people through as they like based on space and something they know, that know one else knows. Or maybe it is something they don’t know they don’t know, so we don’t know. So you just line up. You leave the cue, you line up again. People bring food and drinks and camp. You have already passed through an x-ray and guards out the front control parking and vehicle movement, which is after a US checkpoint so moderately safe.
On my last day out. I was lined up without about 50 other people. Waiting the check bags. We here mortar fire, sounds close and boom, it hits the airport, maybe a 300meters away. No one moves, no one wants to lose their spot. I am thinking, maybe I can get further in the cue here. If there is too many they close the airport, planes don’t like mortar fire.
After a few more minutes of tense waiting, another mortar comes in and explodes close enough to shake the roof, this time there is rubble, people run for cover, but if you really want to leave, you keep your spot in the cue. I got to move up about 5 places now only 10m from the front. Then a series of explosions, 3-4 mortars land around the airport. More likely an airport cancellation day. Our plane hasn’t arrived from Jordan so its not on the runway. Planes don’t like to hang around in this weather. I have no friends lined up with me, only other expats, so I encourage them to take cover. This time they closed the gate so the guards can take cover. This is my time to get closer. I have an advantage; I can tell if a mortar will hit the building by the sound of travel. (I think). There is no real cover so what difference doesn’t it make running. I get 3 meters from the front, but I am not the only one hanging around. A few men and women all passing the desperate to leave stakes.
Quiet for about 20 minutes, people start coming back, no one complains about there spot. The gate opens and we move through to check in. I get a good seat and wait for the aircraft to arrive and for the runway to be inspected. All clear but the Guards don’t want to return so we must wait another hour to open up the actual go to airplane gate. The plane arrives, we have been in line for 2 hours, we rush on, you bring luggage, there is no baggage handlers!. 6 hours later we are taking off for Jordan. Short flight to Jordan then Amman airport for KFC and a coffee and off to Dubai.
I spend a night in Dubai, 5-star hotel, swim eat, de compress and walk around. Upgrade my flight to Sydney. Iraq is a world away by now.
A day on one tour, not like most days, but like some.
Everyone thinks that if someone is kidnapped they deserve to be rescued. If you were kidnapped, you would want to be rescued right! That’s normal, but ask yourself, what did they do, what were their actions that lead up to it. Did they listen to advice? Did they know better than everyone else? Did they do something stupid to be compromised? Were they just innocent, wrong place wrong time people or did they sneak out of the fortress to see a young girl against all types of advice and judgement? Did they come to visit Iraq against all types of government and security advice and wonder around by themselves? Do they have a duel US/Iraqi passport and think they are immune because they have family or look Iraqi. Did they organised their own rendezvous because it was an adventure, maybe with great rewards and lasting love? Does it matter? Yes, if you are someone that has to go get them. To risk your life and your teams life because someone thought they were special. The why matters to the motivation.
I also considered the why against the treatment they will suffer, the time we have to do anything about it, or even if they are insured and someone will pay a ransom – discreetly of course. No one should pay ransoms of course, ever! because it just increases the chance it happens to someone else. When it is your family though, your care of others reduces and you want them released.
What do you when someone who works for you goes missing over night, they have a US passport, they are due to leave in 3 days and it is noticeable. You ask the locals who work for you, you get gossip and rumour. Then you find out a local female employee is also not at work today. By lunchtime, you have her contact details and send your local security staff out to find her. That takes a night, but you find out she is in hiding, she new who took our man and wants to disappear. She knows because she was meeting him, he was sneaking out for a nookie, she told some friends and bam, no nookie, a jump suit instead. She can just be killed for talking to us but the trade she made is what kept her alive with the local militia when they found out she worked in the green zone. Talking to us again was only possible through ‘family’ connections and it turns out she ‘actually’ liked the guy! She had a US passport dream but know she has a run a hide situation. So we help her with some where to stay for a few days which also keeps the militia finding out, we know what is going on, kinda.
We had a quiet week, so we thought we better go find him. Impossible without trusted locals and the ability to find a possible address. No ransom so he probably just held by one militia until they can sell him to a another one higher up the food chain. If we don’t go know, will get too serious and he is gone until he is on CNN. Calling anyone, like the police would just be a warning so we started our own recons. Now driving the streets, randomly looking for a safe house is impossible, but we had an address, had to recon the place and trust our locals staff.
So 2 situations here, a smash and grab or its to easy and we get ambushed. So we get two teams together (6 cars, 4 Iraqi’s on recon, 6 expats on guns, 2 drivers). We know the building, 3 stories, two entrances on a corner block. Guards, we can only see the street and will get no internal info. While the recons go on, we do rehearsals in similar building in the green zone, lucky most building are the same basic brick 3 story here. Its fast, with massive hit and go, no time to play and 5 min in and out and away or reinforcements turn up. We drive the route, we recon, we drive the exit route, we go home. I do the briefs and maps and plans. Certainly, something you don’t do off the cuff and have to do with a trust of whom your doing it with.
We wait until killing time (2-4am) when we will stand out driving but have sleepy people or do we go in daylight when the place is busy. I go busy, blend in. Warn the US check points, put QRF on notice, in case we get stuck and we need extraction. No motor cade, just routine city driving but we still must converge, park fast, get out fast, get it done and get home.
There is no, games, no hands up mate, no silencers. There is a fantastic acceleration into the front door, into the guard, who was on his phone and the other car comes from the other side. 2 cars unload, 2 cars park outside. No one gets out of the armored cars, but sit poised for militia back up. The locals will tell them, it is just a clock ticking. Shock an awe approach to hostage rescue. 6 guys are out of the cars, (armoured Leyland p76 and 1 armoured BMW – prob looks like a US drug raid in Columbia). 2 guys stay on the street to back us up, but I have no eyes on the street anymore. 4 people go up one set of stairs, ready for the first leap frog at the first corner, the Uzi (good for small spaces) goes off and the man behind me has shot above us through the open stair well and slam, the noise of a man falling over the banister is loud so I am dodging a falling person before I am dodging bullets. I round the first corner above the cover and we both fire at once at a door, flanked on second floor by two militia running out shooting wildly and full on. Fuck it is loud, it is dusty and concrete chips flying everywhere, them bam it’s silent. Uzis are fast, small and easy to use, AK’s are powerful but hard to swing in a stair well. As silence hits, our third team member leap frogs us to the door, he has an AK and he has covered the door. We can see in the unit, but it quiet, then there’s noise, radio noise, yelling in Arabic, we can’t see anyone, so we move in, fast. No point rescuing a dead hostage. You cant through a wiz bang or grenade when there is a hostage, but it was tempting. As we run through the front door, someone appears from the third level, yelling at us, but yelling with an AK pointed down at us, our follow up guy’s job is to cover up the stairs, so he fires as he rounds the corner of the stairs and the yelling stops. Fast, 3 rounds of ear piecing noise then silence again.
2.5 minutes in.
No one shoots at us as we enter the room, I notice is just a normal family room, just empty, two rooms off it, only one with the light on. My friend speaks some Arabic so he yells at the 1, possibly 2 occupants. No one is coming out, there is no surrender, just a heap of bullets flying out of the door, at no one in particular, just panic, one mag on full auto will only take 2 seconds but feels like 2 minutes, then it stops, we here the click, and we turn into the room (from off the floor), one of us kneeling the other crawling to shoot up, we both fire at the one standing occupant who doesn’t have time to re-load. He fly’s back into the wall, then slides down it. Silence again.
There is a guy on the bed. He is tied down, gagged, faced baked in tears and mud, he is shirtless, blood all over the bed around his legs. He wont be walking, his knees are a mess of blood and caked skin. Never seen anything like it but what I remember most isn’t the pain on his face, the mess of his knees, it’s the iron marks on his chest, where his nipples should be. Like someone left the iron on the t ’shirt too long. I take in the scene as we untie him and heft him up op to our shoulders. I am taking longer than I should, I see the drill, a Black and Decker, sitting on the bed side table, solid drill bit covered in gore. I don’t remember or even care about the bullet ridden guy on the floor. I mean what the fuck, why drill and iron someone.
Down the stairs fast, covering up and down and straight out and into the cars. The cars are on, and the exit is full covered, no one looking in. Straight into the back seat and then we look at first aid. I am in the other car though and leading the route out. The check point know we are coming, a 12 minute drive, honestly any further out and we would of not gone. In the unit for 6 minutes. I used two magazines of the Uzi and had slung it to carry the guy down the stairs, but had the Glock in the other hand. Everything made safe and inside the car. One block fast, the breath deep and drive slow. Two blocks to go and a straight lead to the check point. We can hear cars but there going to the unit, we are gone. We approach the check point at speed, with a lane kept open for us. No stopping this time and we are through. We stop 100m in, to get checked as planned. One extra US citizen with us. First stop the hospital. Then then our little fortress. All at workman like pace, home safe, adrenaline in check, still focused. The hospital Er is expecting us and it is fast, fast and professional and the guy is gone. Surgery, rehab, a trip to Germany, then I expect home. Nothing life threatening. Just rehab, a good story, he will ‘adjust’ for sure.
We are back safe, debrief, weapons cleaned, then another debrief then another. No written report though. Part of the deal going out.
What were most days like. Up at 5:00am, shower, shave and a tour around the guard posts to visit the Fijians. At the CP at 5:30am, coffee and a chat. 6:00, contact Aus and check emails and overnight reports. 6:30am, be at the front of the breakfast line. Pancakes, bacon, eggs, juice and more coffee. 8:00am – morning security brief. 9:00am walk up to the US Embassy for a 9:00am security/intel brief. Walk back, repeat the brief to the Parsons bosses.
Then settle in for some intel analyses, planning the next CP move or meeting.
Lunch at 12:30. Work until 3:00pm then do another tour and schedule something outside the fortress to visit, another embassy, just a walk around. Anything on tomorrow takes some briefs/orders and some rehearsals. Some time alone, check the weapons, clean and keep everything ready. Dinner at 6:30pm. Always different but each day has a theme. Hamburgers, steak, Italian, Ribs. No vego nights. After dinner, and it is still fucking hot. Go to the gym, run on the treadmill, hit the bag, lift some stuff. Back to the office, email home, chat. Then back to the room about 11:00pm, watch the fashion channel, read. Charge the radio.
The longer I stayed the more under control the timing were and got to go for more visits, tour the bunkers, go to the embassy o for coffee or lunch. Go to the range once a week to keep the weapons live. Every 3-5 days. I would go out for a drive around the Baghdad or a trip to a further away base or project. Prob a once-a-week thing. We had a bar but not my place. Always visit the Fijians in the morning and at night. Tried some afternoon touch footy and going to the pool but only if had time. Pretty routine but my favourite type of work. Work 24/7 and get it done as fast as possible. Always sit back and think in detail about the next few days, read the newspapers, watch and talk to the local staff. Do liaison! Was 4-6 week tours of intense work load but satisfying.
After I finished in Iraq, I went back to running Phoenix full time and training to compete again. I also went on call for SES International and within 3 weeks was off to Fiji. There was a coup and the Army decided they could run the country better. Everyone was leaving as I entered. Chaos had broken out, island time, so I had plenty of time. My job description was simple, go there, be ready and here is a list of people you may need to organise some protection for or evacuate. Plus do a little intelligent gathering tourist. A job with lots of unknown unknowns but plenty of scope and initiative. Step 1, hook up with some local security experienced guys, I knew from Iraq, get a car and some comms, and check out the place.
The difference between tourist areas and the local areas was stark. From 5 star to third world in a 15 min drive. Was a great tour and fun chatting to the military on check points set up as part of the coup, they didn’t really know what was going on, but were happy to take over. Airport was busy with people leaving, Suva was deserted, and I was the only white guy wandering around. I visited the AS Embassy to check in but like everywhere, they were locked down getting their info from Aus, media and their own locals. Always great learning from educated local diplomats with important jobs, who haven’t been driving around the streets for weeks.
There was no outwards violence or chaos, but tension, insecurity and a feeling it could all go bad fast. I was used to Iraq though. People wanted to get though so I organised some evacuations for UN groups, some aid people, some teacher and heap of teenagers from Aus on exchange. Just get them to rendezvous, be polite to the military, who didn’t want trouble, get them on some planes to Aus and it was all done in 48 hours.
Then, people still needed on the ground info, so I stayed. I stayed at 5-star hotel as well. It is weird being the only guy in a 5-star hotel for 2 weeks. Great service, great golf, nice swimming, and plenty of down time which was driving me crazy. Everything settled down fast and I was off home in 4 weeks. A good simple gig.
