Hometown Heroes

We started the series to get the opinion that matters the most. In the words of those currently serving, Hometown Heroes is an uncensored view of what's going on in Iraq. We've gone international. Australian stations have just agreed to run our programming, and I'm happy to report all is well. Hometown Heroes is running all over the country. If it's not in your area tell your local radio station manager, or e-mail me and we'll take care of it.

Border Crossing

The border between Kuwait and Iraq is not just geographical, it's cultural, at least that how the soldiers who run the convoys up and down deadliest highways in the world would describe it.

While in Kuwait, it's possible to relax, to take off the body armor and even let your guard down a bit, but as we got closer to the border in the words of platoon commander Sergeant First Class Jacobs, "It's game time".



Every convoy takes certain precautions. The roads in Southern Iraq have become increasingly dangerous as the insurgency seems to be moving South, fleeing the increased security in Baghdad. Trucks line up for hours at a time, waiting for clearance to cross into Iraq.

The actual border crossing itself was uneventful, you can barely tell there is a border from where we went in. There is one major thing to remember, Iraq is one hour ahead. Setting your watch is important when the schedule is highly regimented.

Once in Iraq, there is absolutely no stopping under any circumstances. Strapped in with full bodyarmor in a cramped space for a few hours adds tension to the trip.

I turned on the infra-red camera in order to take picture that didn't set off the flash. One of the soldiers was hit by an IED and didn't even notice it. He saw a flash out of the corner of his eye, but didn't realize there was a problem until his steering became difficult.

While on Iraqi roads, every bump on the road, box, or garbage is suspect. It's a very intense feeling of not knowing what can happen, but preparing for the worse.

We made it in to Camp Cedar, in Southern Iraq, everyone was safe and sound. It was late at night, but there was plenty of work to get done. Everyone knew there was a job to do and we all went about getting that job done. This flag flies at Camp Cedar, and it was one of the most reassurings symbols I had ever seen.

Laissez Le Bons Temps Roulez

The 377th is a theatre support command. That doesn't mean they're stationed around Broadway, but it does mean they provide support for operations within combat zones. The command uses a lot of reservists, which gives this group a type of flexibility other military commands just don't have. I sat down to talk to the Assistant Chief of staff of the G3, this is the person with the responsibility of getting supplies up North, into theatre, and he's not referring to a productions of "Cats".

But I Egress...

"When you drop to the ground just remember to keep rolling." Staff Sgt Lipp or "Sergeant" as his soldiers call him was describing the egress procedure. Egress? Leave it to the military to come up with a fancy word for getting the heck out of a flaming vehicle. I listened carefully and watched the demonstration. Lipp, an 11 year veteran who is on his fifth tour, was giving me tips that could both save my life, AND make for a great blog. The military has always been keen on efficiency.

The temperature is much more bearable, even pleasant, at the beginning of the day, say 0500.

The security briefing for media embeds on convoys (a fairly rare request considering that most media enter the theatre by air.) was short. It all came down to "egress" and there wasn't much more to egress than the standard "Jump out and roll".

Servicemen call this region the "sandbox", but the haziness you see everywhere is actually dust--believe me sand would be an improvement. Really dried up dirt rises with the heat to cover everything. It's on my camera, my computer, it doesn't matter how often you shower. The intense heat, mixed up with sweat, bakes the dirt into the pores, so a reassuring layer of grime accompanies you wherever you go.

It looks simple, a convoy of trucks heading down the road, but there's a lot of work that goes into making it happen. Especially, when you have to add armored security, provide ammunition and prepare for explosions along the route.

The crew loaded up the vehicles, but right in the middle of it all, we heard the sound of reveille and everyone came to a halt. I wish I had a picture of it, but you're not allowed to use a camera while saluting.

At the end of the day, as the dust literally settles and the sun looks suspiciously like the moon.

Attention All Whiners

I'm doing two radio series, one called Hometown Heroes and another called "In their Own Words." So, I've been interviewing people pretty much since the moment I landed in Kuwait. What really stands out in my mind is how different the perception of the war here is.

I cannot tell you how different the perception of the war is, here in theatre. People are very focused on their mission and I'm just amazed by how little importance they put on the day to day stuff that we're all obsessed with back home.

Example? I'm with a transportation unit. We're going to be in a convoy hauling equipment up North, to Iraq. We started at 4 a.m, serviced the truck, got orders, got weapons, drove for hours, arrived near the border, loaded the trucks with the equipment. After a dusk to dawn workday the base played taps to notify all who are present that the flag was to be retired. Everyone was tired and sleep deprived, but despite that, EVERYONE popped up to attention, stood and saluted. We stood there, everyone facing the direction of the descending flag, everyone completely silent, no one complaining or whining about anything.

We were heading into Iraq, the "belly of the beast" and on a road that is known for IED's. If anyone had a right to whine about WMDs, Surges, Shock and Awe, or being misled it was these people. We stood there, everyone facing the direction of the descending flag, everyone completely silent, no one complaining or whining about anything.