The following excerpt from my book, Messages from Babylon, and pictures from my files show a memorable encounter that I had with the Blackwater Security detail for Ambassador Bremer.
Ambassador Bremer arriving in Karbala with his Blackwater security detail in February 2004.
From: Whitehead, Michael (USA) Sent: Thursday, February 19, 2004 7:25 PM Subject: Ambassador Bremer visit to Karbala
For obvious reasons, Ambassador Bremer's visitation schedule is kept under tight Operational Security and not widely published. Also, a visit by a Big Cheese (and Amb Bremer is the Biggest of the Big Cheeses) requires a lot of planning. An advanced team from Baghdad came down the night before (their biggest concern, of course, was the media coverage) and we held a BIG PLANNING MEETING to sort out who does what. My team's job was to drive three Suburbans from Hillah to Karbala to haul the Media Horde from the Landing Zone to the Women's Center. Since hauling the Media Horde required 7 soldiers and I had the only supply of soldiers in the Headquarters, and I knew the mission couldn't go unless we hauled the Media Horde to see the Event and unless the press saw the Event it didn't happen, so why do it anyway – I volunteered my people for the job.
Ambassador Bremer got some high priced chauffeurs for his Media Horde, three Colonels (Fishman, Strong and myself), one Major (Harrison), two LT's (Montgomery and Galvaney) and a Sergeant (Green). We left here at 0700 because we were told to meet the advanced team of Bremer's Security element at the Women's Center at 0800. His armored sedan and the escort vehicles were driven down the night before so they could be there to meet his helicopter.
When we arrived at the Women's Center at 0745 we immediately noted that even the most casual Iraqi observer could tell that something was up. 101st Airborne Division MP's had already secured a wide area around the Center and the nearby Government Building complex. Inside the Women's Center looked dramatically different than it had when we saw it under construction several weeks ago. Everything looked clean and painted (two unusual qualities when it comes to Iraqi buildings) and there were plants everywhere.The inside of the main hall was filled with chairs and covered with paintings. At the entrance to the main hall was an easel and on the easel was a large painting. When COL Strong and Da Fish and I saw the painting we stopped dead. The painting was a strange picture of a woman with part of her breasts showing and what looked like trees growing out of her ovaries. In the U.S. or the U.K., this picture would not generate any comment. We have been corrupted by the Evil, Decadent West. We all agreed Karbala was not ready for this painting. We didn't remove it from the building or have it burned or anything, we just replaced it with another painting and put this one up on the wall in a corner.
COL Strong did find one painting of some Iraqis burning a British flag. The British occupied Iraq for a period after WW I and the Sunnis and Shiites had a large uprising against the Empire that was eventually subdued. This Rebellion was believed to be a great moment in Iraqi history by the Iraqis themselves. In any event, COL Strong was outraged by the painting and ordered it removed from the exposition forthwith.
"What are you, some kind of art censor?" I asked him in a needling tone.
He did not reply, but only raised his nose and assumed an air of British haughtiness.
The female MP Company Commander showed up and asked to look around. This is the same Center that I sent the photo with me showing a picture of my family to some Iraqi ladies.I saw the lady there that gave me the Karbala greeting card for my daughters and thanked her.
As we waited Bulgarian soldiers arrived to augment the security. Bremer's PSD boys (From a firm called Blackwater) arrived loaded down with all the usual toys hanging from belts and vests. They told us what we had been waiting an hour and a half to hear, that Bremer's vehicles were at the LZ. We loaded up and drove the 15 minute drive to the east of town to the Logistic base, where the aircraft would land. When we got there, we coordinated with the female MP Lieutenant whose platoon was assisting with the security during the drive from the LZ to the Center. Speaking of women's rights, here I was speaking to female Army officers in a war zone commanding soldiers who were almost all men. And the officers were good. No more complaints, now, right ladies?
While we were waiting for the aircraft to arrive, I went up to the female Lieutenant and asked her, "Does you Mother know what you are doing over here?"
She smiled and said, "I try not to give my Mom too many details."
The aircraft, flying low and fast, snuck up on us, arriving only seconds after we could hear the noise. The two Blackhawks did a quick pass over the LZ and came in to land. In the distance, circling, were two nasty looking Apaches, their escort for the trip down from Baghdad.
As the first Blackhawk landed, it picked up a stone and smashed the rear side window of Lt. Montgomery's Suburban. This was the third vehicle that she had to turn in because something broke.
The Ambassador was swept into his vehicle by his PSD while we struggled to guide the laggard Media Horde into ours. Bremer's PSD waits on no one, and soon we were off on Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride, trying to catch up. Led by the MP's, who were causing the Mother of All Traffic Jams by blocking the major road in town for the convoy, we hurtled down the road, dodging taxis, trucks, donkey carts, tractors, small children and dogs through a swirl of dust. Little Bird helicopters accompanied us overhead, ready to machine gun any attackers, or, better yet, call in the Apaches who were waiting on the ground nearby.
I have said it before, but I must say it again, an Iraqi behind the wheel (or even walking in the street, or steering a donkey cart) is in his own world. Most of the time I believe, hopefully believe, that they are looking straight ahead. I know for absolute sure that they are paying no attention to what is going on behind or beside their vehicle. They move down the highway in a fog, wandering into this lane, now maybe that lane, or maybe I'll just straddle the line – Who Cares? I'm the only one on the road.The typical Iraqi is motoring down the highway in an ancient, rusting, smoking Soviet Lada, the inside packed to overcapacity with people, baggage piled high and strapped down precariously on the rood, the accelerator floor-boarded to maintain the vehicle's top speed of 30 MPH.
One Iraqi wandered into a busy Interstate-type highway in Baghdad (looking neither left nor right when he entered the road) stopped in the middle of the far lane, turned around and began talking to a friend on the side of the street that he just departed. I was in the front passenger seat of a Suburban going 80 MPH, in my usual state of Baghdad induced nervousness, when I watched incredulously as this Iraqi wandered into our lane, stopped and began having a friendly conversation. I flinched and braced, waiting to see Iraqi splattered all over my windshield, when my driver SGT Green stood on his horn, slammed on the brakes and swerved, narrowly avoiding a disaster. As you can see, I need to go home. I have ridden too many miles avoiding Iraqis on the road.
With all this in mind, imagine the obstacle course we are running as we hurtle through the city. And we're all carrying loaded weapons. I've stopped many Iraqis from cutting in front of me in a traffic jam by showing him the pistol in my hand. Don't point it at him, just show it to him. Works every time. This is not quite as bad as Bremer’s PSD, which pulls up behind or beside Iraqi vehicles and bumps them until they pull over. After all this, Bremer spent a good while talking to some Iraqi women individually at the Center. He addressed the assembled crowd of BMO's (G.I. slang for Black Moving Object, i.e. women.) The Media Horde was satiated, Bremer gave a thumbs up to us about the visit, and we made the trip back to the LZ.
As we pulled up, the BlackHawks started their engines. As the Blackhawks prepared to take off, I saw an Apache rise up from the other side of the wall, facing me, and looking like something out of a Terminator movie. Then the other Apache rose. The scene almost gave me chills. They are NASTY looking. Then, suddenly, all the helicopters were gone and we were left with the quiet and a 40 minute ride to Hillah and lunch.
Ambassador Bremer and his security detail in the Karbla Women's Rights Center in February 2004.
Blackwater Security detail on the street outside the Karbala Women's Rights Center
Colonel Andy Fishman and I with two Coalition soldiers waiting for Bremer to arrive
MICHAEL WHITEHEAD, Author & Writer Web Design: Sara Whitehead Technical Consultant: Lindsey Whitehead
