Man (and Robot) Down: Adjusting to Insurgent Combat in the War Zone

Text Box:  GHAZALIYA, Iraq, July 17 — It’s been another violent day here on my tour of Iraq, with several deaths—four American soldiers, one robot and countless Iraqis. Things started out smoothly enough, but got rocky quick when the Iraqi Army soldiers stationed here mistakenly fired at local leaders who were entering the compound for a scheduled meeting. After apologies from coalition and Iraqi Army forces, the meeting is finally underway, with plans for the pickup and sales of propane gas. For all intents and purposes, Capt. Jon Brooks, the commanding officer of Joint Security Station Thrasher here, is conducting a city council session. After details are hammered out as to the sale and dispersal to the area’s muhollahs (neighborhoods), Brooks turns into an enforcer. “Do you want us to shut down the black market propane sales?” he asks Sheik Muhammed, the Neighborhood Advisory Council leader. Before the translator can even finish the question, emphatic nods and smiles pop up: Na’am (yes). It’s apparent to me that the Sunnis who remain in this once upscale neighborhood depend almost entirely on the coalition forces for security against Al Qaeda and insurgents. The Military Transition Team here is trying to teach the Iraqi forces—hard, frustrating and sometimes dangerous work, so far with mixed results. In this war-torn area, no one trusts the Iraqi Police, the Iraqi Army has a better reputation, and, despite propaganda and rhetoric on all fronts, pretty much everyone trusts the coalition forces—American and British troops. With topics ranging from trash collection and sewage plants to resident cards and a local protectorate, the meeting like Civics 101: War Zone. From coalition line commanders and non-commissioned officers down to the last grunt, the Iraq war has forced troops into jobs they could never have anticipated when joining the military. Tankers, who thought they’d be permanently mounted on an Abrams, are now light infantry troops knocking on and kicking in doors. Privates have to deal with the complexities of a foreign culture. “Everyone is a lot of different jobs,” Brooks says. “The work has to get done.” Not too much after the meeting comes the bad news: a Police Transition Team, responding to small arms fire on an Iraqi police station, has come under attack. The guys in the tactical operations center (TOC) immediately sense that something’s wrong because of the attack’s complexity—an explosively formed penetrator (EFP) takes out a Humvee after the fire engages the troops. Two men are killed, and two would die later. It’s not clear how many Iraqis were lost in action. Maybe the most horrifying part of the attack is how much everyone suspects the IP station of being complicit in it. Radio traffic monitored by the coalition hears the station bragging about the hit. Even though the casualties aren’t from the 2-12 Cavalry, controlled rage seethes throughout the unit. There are more attacks scattered throughout the afternoon and night. As we’re getting ready to convoy back to Camp Victory, a patrol unit calls in a suspected IED implanted on our route. Some soldiers scramble to send out their IED-disarming robot (pictured above and at right). They’re not moving fast enough for Brooks, who pulls out an earlier version of the robot and challenges them to a race. He loses because the batteries aren’t charged. The group heads out in a Humvee toward the IED site, monitored by radio and Blue Force tracker in the TOC. We don’t need the radio call to know we’ve succeeded in exploding the IED: The boom shakes the building. —Leslie Sabbagh



IED-hunting robots weren't moving fast enough for Brooks, who pulled out an earlier version of the robot and challenges his men to a race. He lost because the batteries weren't charged.