thedrifter
08-10-06, 01:59 PM
AP Blog: Christmas brownies land in Iraq
By The Associated Press
Thu Aug 10, 10:15 AM ET
AP Correspondent Robert H. Reid covers Iraq events from Baghdad. AP Correspondent Rebecca Santana is embedded with the New Jersey National Guard at Camp Anaconda, Iraq. Antonio Castaneda is embedded with the U.S. Marines, 3rd Battalion, 3rd Regiment.
___
Wednesday, Aug. 9, 11:41 p.m. local
HADITHA
My hand probed until I found something close to what I was looking for: the M&M brownies in a care package sent from America. I was particularly hungry, and the sweets were a welcome sight — until I noticed a slip of paper inside the same box. The paper read, "You won't be home for Christmas ... but you'll be in our hearts." It was August — at least 8 months after the holidays.
The vast majority of U.S. troops eat quite well while in Iraq. Though the food can get repetitivek, and sometimes fresh fruits are missing, most troops do not complain about well-stocked dining halls. Earlier this week one Marine even admitted to me that he eats better in Iraq than he does back in California.
Sometimes the options are surprising for their quality and variety. In the last month I've had eggplant parmigiana, fried shrimp, and I even saw eggnog being served in the middle of the Iraqi desert. Indian contract workers who work on many U.S. bases are also known to make a decent plate of curry on occasion.
But there are dire exceptions. In remote outposts in western Iraq, U.S. Marines usually eat endless rounds of prepackaged food known as MREs, Meals Ready to Eat, or T-RATS, tray rations. Troops can manage on these for a while, but after 3-4 months such heavily processed food loses the little appeal it originally had. I've met Marines that have lost 25 pounds on a 7-month deployment.
There are sources of relief, though. Many troops receive care packages sent by family and friends back home; military support groups also send out loads of packaged food. Sometimes the packages can spark jealous exchanges. Today I heard a Marine complain about someone who had somehow acquired blueberry pancake mix. Last month in Ramadi, I heard Marines gripe about a Navy medic who had roast beef stored in a private refrigerator.
In some outposts, I've noticed troops get by on large silver pouches of tuna fish. Everyone in the military loves tuna — especially when they're confronted with the option of diving into an MRE that's designed to last 10 years. I happily ate tuna fish sandwiches for a week straight in a Marine base in Ramadi. It was delicious, as you can imagine, but few will catch me eating tuna back in the U.S.
This afternoon, on the way back to this commandeered elementary school that serves as home to dozens of Marines, grunts discussed the evening's dining options. Most hoped they wouldn't be served pork ribs, a common entree that had become too common. The meal ended up being "country chicken" and stuffing. The stuffing ran out when I was in line, giving me the chance to watch a young Marine display his culinary method. He cursed until he found a silver package of bread crumbs that he poured into a green tray. Then he poured steaming cups of water on top and stirred. It wasn't as bad as it sounds, especially with hot sauce.
As for the brownies, I decided that expiration dates were overrated. I dared to eat half of one.
• Antonio Castaneda
___
Tuesday, Aug. 8, 4 p.m. local
BAGHDAD
The only store open last weekend at a shopping district in Baghdad's Mansour neighborhood was the one selling suitcases. And business was brisk.
It seems like every Iraqi in what passes for the middle class either knows someone who has left or is planning to leave. Better-off Iraqis head for Jordan, Syria or the United Arab Emirates — or send their families there.
Those without enough money head for areas within Iraq where their religious sect is in the majority. With sectarian death squads lurking, there's safety in numbers. Those who stay put in places where they are in the minority are not necessarily the bravest: they just don't have enough money to leave.
Moving isn't that simple. Rents have skyrocketed in Baghdad neighborhoods that are deemed safe, a relative term here in Iraq. Many of those who flee the capital altogether end up living with relatives since chances of finding another job in provincial cities are not good.
Getting out of town can be expensive. Gasoline prices have soared. Black market prices can run as much as $4 a gallon depending on availability. Rustling up enough fuel to drive to the Shiite heartland in the south or up to the Kurdish areas in the north can set you back $80. That's a lot in a country where $400 a month is considered a very good salary. Government-subsidized fuel is far cheaper but not readily available.
Still, that's not enough to discourage Iraqis who fear for their lives. Hence, demand for suitcases is way up.
Shops along the Mansour street were closed because opening just wasn't worth the risk. Lots of merchants had received written extortion demands — pay $1,000 for "protection" or else. Nobody seemed sure who was making the demand, and maybe it was just a bluff. But in a city where men can get themselves killed for wearing shorts in public, the risk just wasn't worth it. So many shops simply closed, at least for a while.
Business hasn't been so great anyway lately. The rise in sectarian violence over the last six months has dealt a severe blow to commerce in Baghdad — as it has to nearly every other aspect of life in the capital. Once bustling commercial hubs are now nearly deserted.
Merchants are finding it hard to keep their shelves stocked because bombings, hijackings and checkpoints delay deliveries. Many Sunni Muslim customers are afraid to venture out to the jewelry stores in Shiite Kazimiyah. And Shiites aren't too keen to stroll the boutiques in the Sunni neighborhood Azamiyah. Merchants are afraid to go to wholesale markets that are located in parts of town where the "other" sect is in the majority. And with unemployment estimated as high as 40 percent among working aged men, families are strapped for cash. Whatever they have goes for the essentials such as food and basic clothing. Life's luxuries will have to wait for better times.
This is just one of the reasons the Americans are so keen to curb sectarian violence in Baghdad. Everything here depends on security. If Iraqis don't feel safe, they won't go to work, they won't spend their money and those who can leave won't even stay here.
The government can't even begin to rebuild the country's economy and social services if civil servants are fleeing the country or staying in their homes because they fear running into a sectarian militia checkpoint.
And in the meantime, the suitcase trade is booming.
• Robert H. Reid
___
Tuesday, Aug. 8, 9:30 a.m. local
CAMP ANACONDA
Have it your way at Burger King ... in Iraq? As a visitor to one of the larger bases in Iraq such as Anaconda, one of the things that strikes you is the odd comforts from home that have been imported. One of them is Burger King.
If a soldier doesn't want to eat at one of the dining halls on the base, he or she can buy something at Burger King or grab a latte at Green Beans Coffee, where they even have muffins and a drink called MOAC, which stands for the Mother of All Coffees. The base has a movie theater that shows relatively recent movies — the most recent Superman movie opened here. Unfortunately, the movie theater concession stand also has American movie theater prices. And the patrons are often carrying M-16 rifles.
The restaurants and cafes are all staffed by foreigners from places such as India or Sri Lanka who come to Iraq to do a lot of the non-military jobs around the bases. As I was waiting to get something to eat at Burger King yesterday morning, I noticed a sign that advertised a special deal that they had going. Customers who buy the package deal of a soft drink, fries and a burger are then eligible to buy a certain item such as a travel coffee mug thats labeled "Iraq" on the outside. Obviously a deal that isnt available anywhere else.
___
Saturday, Aug. 5, 12:10 p.m. local
BAGHDAD
Political correctness has come to Iraq. And it's helped solve a public relations problem: whom to blame for all the violence and sectarian slaughter.
That's a serious matter as the Iraqi government tries to stop the slaughter while at the same time reach out to disaffected communities — which is a polite way of saying the very people responsible for the killing.
Nobody really knows who's responsible every time a body turns up in a vacant lot in west Baghdad, or a family gets massacred at home, or some prominent figure leaves for work and disappears.
It's unclear how many victims have run afoul of organized crime, jealous neighbors, family members or anyone else who uses the cover of chaos to mask a murder.
Still, there's a sectarian motive behind much — if not most — of the slaughter. If the victim is from one Muslim sect, the working assumption is the perpetrators are from the other.
And that's where it gets tricky. In a "government of national unity," all communities are represented, even those behind the killings.
It's all well and good to blame this or that sectarian or political group by name for slaughtering civilians — until it's time to cut a deal with them to prevent even more slaughter.
Nobody likes to offer amnesty to the very groups blamed for killing thousands of innocent people. Sometimes, however, that's a necessary step, especially in a war where even the generals openly say there is no military solution.
Hence the terms "death squads" and "thugs and criminals." Those are neutral — politically correct — terms. They could be Shiite Muslims. They could be Sunnis. Their motives are murky.
On July 22, for example, American and Iraqi troops in Musayyib killed 15 "thugs and criminals" trying to "take over the city," according to a U.S. military statement. Followers of radical Shiite cleric Muqtada al-Sadr offered another version: the soldiers attacked the local office of al-Sadr's Mahdi Army.
The Mahdi Army is the most feared Shiite militia. Many Sunnis blame the Mahdi Army for killing and kidnapping Sunni civilians. But al-Sadr is a player. His movement holds 30 of the 275 seats in parliament. Five of his followers are in the Iraqi Cabinet. And he is a key supporter of Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki, who has promised to disband the militias.
Even the word "militia" is tricky. It came into common journalistic use in Iraq in 2004 to describe armed groups nominally loyal to the government — as opposed to Sunni Arab "insurgents" who were fighting against it.
The Kurds managed to get their militia, the peshmerga, legally recognized as a legitimate defense force of the three provinces the Kurds run. Everywhere else peshmerga fighters were incorporated into the Iraqi army. So the word "militia" really refers specifically to Shiites.
That presents a problem for al-Maliki as he works to disband "militias." They are his fellow Shiites. Hence, terms like "armed groups" are preferred to describe them — or "death squads" when they commit atrocities.
• Robert H. Reid
___
Friday, Aug. 4, 9:30 p.m. local
CAMP ANACONDA
There was no Diet Coke today at the dining facility. For a few seconds, I was a little irritated. I try to limit my caffeine intake and keep it to one Diet Coke a day, but I do look forward to my soda with a little ice.
After a few seconds I remembered that just about all the food that is eaten on this base is driven by truck, possibly from Kuwait to the south or Turkey to the north. And those truck drivers — many from neighboring countries such as Saudi Arabia or Jordan — take horrible risks driving on roads that are filled with homemade bombs set by insurgents and ambushes set up by people wanting to steal their loads.
So every time that something such as Diet Coke doesn't make it to the dining facility or the mail doesn't arrive or there's no sour cream for the baked potatoes, it could mean that a driver out on the roads of Iraq is dead.
Of course, it could mean that an order wasn't put in on time or there was a shortage of sour cream, but there's always a strong chance that the food convoy was ambushed.
The military has taken steps to cut down on the number of convoys on the roads, including building water purification centers at different bases so bottled water doesn't have to be imported. The food at this base, Camp Anaconda, is relatively good, complete with macaroni and cheese, usually four flavors of Baskin Robbins ice cream, including one of my favorites, mint chocolate chip, and a refrigerator full of canned sodas.
The military tries to take care of the soldiers who are usually spending a year of their lives over here by giving them good meals instead of forcing them to eat the packaged food called "Meals Ready to Eat" that are often found on the battlefield.
Also, troops who are well taken care of also tend to stay in the military. But for everything that I eat, I can't help thinking of whoever drove it here.
• Rebecca Santana
___
Tuesday, Aug. 1, 8:30 p.m. local
CAMP ANACONDA
When I need to file my stories or check e-mail, I take my computer and satellite phone out to a gravel field near the trailer where I'm staying. I sit down, set up my equipment and type away. As I was sitting there a few nights ago, I noticed helicopters coming in, pairs of Black Hawks flying low and slow, almost tracing the road that runs in front of the field where I was sitting. First two helicopters, one following the other, flew by. Then, maybe 20 minutes later, another pair flew by. I didn't think too much of it because if you look into the sky around Camp Anaconda, there's almost always a plane or helicopter flying overhead.
It wasn't until the next day that I found out what was going on. The Black Hawks were most likely taking patients to the Air Force hospital on base, where the most seriously injured American soldiers or Marines in Iraq are treated, usually before moving on to a hospital in Germany. The hospital also treats Iraqi military, police, civilians, even insurgents. Now, every time I now see those helicopters — and you see them with frightening regularity — I can't help thinking of whoever's inside, ripped open by shrapnel or pockmarked by bullets.
• Rebecca Santana
Ellie
By The Associated Press
Thu Aug 10, 10:15 AM ET
AP Correspondent Robert H. Reid covers Iraq events from Baghdad. AP Correspondent Rebecca Santana is embedded with the New Jersey National Guard at Camp Anaconda, Iraq. Antonio Castaneda is embedded with the U.S. Marines, 3rd Battalion, 3rd Regiment.
___
Wednesday, Aug. 9, 11:41 p.m. local
HADITHA
My hand probed until I found something close to what I was looking for: the M&M brownies in a care package sent from America. I was particularly hungry, and the sweets were a welcome sight — until I noticed a slip of paper inside the same box. The paper read, "You won't be home for Christmas ... but you'll be in our hearts." It was August — at least 8 months after the holidays.
The vast majority of U.S. troops eat quite well while in Iraq. Though the food can get repetitivek, and sometimes fresh fruits are missing, most troops do not complain about well-stocked dining halls. Earlier this week one Marine even admitted to me that he eats better in Iraq than he does back in California.
Sometimes the options are surprising for their quality and variety. In the last month I've had eggplant parmigiana, fried shrimp, and I even saw eggnog being served in the middle of the Iraqi desert. Indian contract workers who work on many U.S. bases are also known to make a decent plate of curry on occasion.
But there are dire exceptions. In remote outposts in western Iraq, U.S. Marines usually eat endless rounds of prepackaged food known as MREs, Meals Ready to Eat, or T-RATS, tray rations. Troops can manage on these for a while, but after 3-4 months such heavily processed food loses the little appeal it originally had. I've met Marines that have lost 25 pounds on a 7-month deployment.
There are sources of relief, though. Many troops receive care packages sent by family and friends back home; military support groups also send out loads of packaged food. Sometimes the packages can spark jealous exchanges. Today I heard a Marine complain about someone who had somehow acquired blueberry pancake mix. Last month in Ramadi, I heard Marines gripe about a Navy medic who had roast beef stored in a private refrigerator.
In some outposts, I've noticed troops get by on large silver pouches of tuna fish. Everyone in the military loves tuna — especially when they're confronted with the option of diving into an MRE that's designed to last 10 years. I happily ate tuna fish sandwiches for a week straight in a Marine base in Ramadi. It was delicious, as you can imagine, but few will catch me eating tuna back in the U.S.
This afternoon, on the way back to this commandeered elementary school that serves as home to dozens of Marines, grunts discussed the evening's dining options. Most hoped they wouldn't be served pork ribs, a common entree that had become too common. The meal ended up being "country chicken" and stuffing. The stuffing ran out when I was in line, giving me the chance to watch a young Marine display his culinary method. He cursed until he found a silver package of bread crumbs that he poured into a green tray. Then he poured steaming cups of water on top and stirred. It wasn't as bad as it sounds, especially with hot sauce.
As for the brownies, I decided that expiration dates were overrated. I dared to eat half of one.
• Antonio Castaneda
___
Tuesday, Aug. 8, 4 p.m. local
BAGHDAD
The only store open last weekend at a shopping district in Baghdad's Mansour neighborhood was the one selling suitcases. And business was brisk.
It seems like every Iraqi in what passes for the middle class either knows someone who has left or is planning to leave. Better-off Iraqis head for Jordan, Syria or the United Arab Emirates — or send their families there.
Those without enough money head for areas within Iraq where their religious sect is in the majority. With sectarian death squads lurking, there's safety in numbers. Those who stay put in places where they are in the minority are not necessarily the bravest: they just don't have enough money to leave.
Moving isn't that simple. Rents have skyrocketed in Baghdad neighborhoods that are deemed safe, a relative term here in Iraq. Many of those who flee the capital altogether end up living with relatives since chances of finding another job in provincial cities are not good.
Getting out of town can be expensive. Gasoline prices have soared. Black market prices can run as much as $4 a gallon depending on availability. Rustling up enough fuel to drive to the Shiite heartland in the south or up to the Kurdish areas in the north can set you back $80. That's a lot in a country where $400 a month is considered a very good salary. Government-subsidized fuel is far cheaper but not readily available.
Still, that's not enough to discourage Iraqis who fear for their lives. Hence, demand for suitcases is way up.
Shops along the Mansour street were closed because opening just wasn't worth the risk. Lots of merchants had received written extortion demands — pay $1,000 for "protection" or else. Nobody seemed sure who was making the demand, and maybe it was just a bluff. But in a city where men can get themselves killed for wearing shorts in public, the risk just wasn't worth it. So many shops simply closed, at least for a while.
Business hasn't been so great anyway lately. The rise in sectarian violence over the last six months has dealt a severe blow to commerce in Baghdad — as it has to nearly every other aspect of life in the capital. Once bustling commercial hubs are now nearly deserted.
Merchants are finding it hard to keep their shelves stocked because bombings, hijackings and checkpoints delay deliveries. Many Sunni Muslim customers are afraid to venture out to the jewelry stores in Shiite Kazimiyah. And Shiites aren't too keen to stroll the boutiques in the Sunni neighborhood Azamiyah. Merchants are afraid to go to wholesale markets that are located in parts of town where the "other" sect is in the majority. And with unemployment estimated as high as 40 percent among working aged men, families are strapped for cash. Whatever they have goes for the essentials such as food and basic clothing. Life's luxuries will have to wait for better times.
This is just one of the reasons the Americans are so keen to curb sectarian violence in Baghdad. Everything here depends on security. If Iraqis don't feel safe, they won't go to work, they won't spend their money and those who can leave won't even stay here.
The government can't even begin to rebuild the country's economy and social services if civil servants are fleeing the country or staying in their homes because they fear running into a sectarian militia checkpoint.
And in the meantime, the suitcase trade is booming.
• Robert H. Reid
___
Tuesday, Aug. 8, 9:30 a.m. local
CAMP ANACONDA
Have it your way at Burger King ... in Iraq? As a visitor to one of the larger bases in Iraq such as Anaconda, one of the things that strikes you is the odd comforts from home that have been imported. One of them is Burger King.
If a soldier doesn't want to eat at one of the dining halls on the base, he or she can buy something at Burger King or grab a latte at Green Beans Coffee, where they even have muffins and a drink called MOAC, which stands for the Mother of All Coffees. The base has a movie theater that shows relatively recent movies — the most recent Superman movie opened here. Unfortunately, the movie theater concession stand also has American movie theater prices. And the patrons are often carrying M-16 rifles.
The restaurants and cafes are all staffed by foreigners from places such as India or Sri Lanka who come to Iraq to do a lot of the non-military jobs around the bases. As I was waiting to get something to eat at Burger King yesterday morning, I noticed a sign that advertised a special deal that they had going. Customers who buy the package deal of a soft drink, fries and a burger are then eligible to buy a certain item such as a travel coffee mug thats labeled "Iraq" on the outside. Obviously a deal that isnt available anywhere else.
___
Saturday, Aug. 5, 12:10 p.m. local
BAGHDAD
Political correctness has come to Iraq. And it's helped solve a public relations problem: whom to blame for all the violence and sectarian slaughter.
That's a serious matter as the Iraqi government tries to stop the slaughter while at the same time reach out to disaffected communities — which is a polite way of saying the very people responsible for the killing.
Nobody really knows who's responsible every time a body turns up in a vacant lot in west Baghdad, or a family gets massacred at home, or some prominent figure leaves for work and disappears.
It's unclear how many victims have run afoul of organized crime, jealous neighbors, family members or anyone else who uses the cover of chaos to mask a murder.
Still, there's a sectarian motive behind much — if not most — of the slaughter. If the victim is from one Muslim sect, the working assumption is the perpetrators are from the other.
And that's where it gets tricky. In a "government of national unity," all communities are represented, even those behind the killings.
It's all well and good to blame this or that sectarian or political group by name for slaughtering civilians — until it's time to cut a deal with them to prevent even more slaughter.
Nobody likes to offer amnesty to the very groups blamed for killing thousands of innocent people. Sometimes, however, that's a necessary step, especially in a war where even the generals openly say there is no military solution.
Hence the terms "death squads" and "thugs and criminals." Those are neutral — politically correct — terms. They could be Shiite Muslims. They could be Sunnis. Their motives are murky.
On July 22, for example, American and Iraqi troops in Musayyib killed 15 "thugs and criminals" trying to "take over the city," according to a U.S. military statement. Followers of radical Shiite cleric Muqtada al-Sadr offered another version: the soldiers attacked the local office of al-Sadr's Mahdi Army.
The Mahdi Army is the most feared Shiite militia. Many Sunnis blame the Mahdi Army for killing and kidnapping Sunni civilians. But al-Sadr is a player. His movement holds 30 of the 275 seats in parliament. Five of his followers are in the Iraqi Cabinet. And he is a key supporter of Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki, who has promised to disband the militias.
Even the word "militia" is tricky. It came into common journalistic use in Iraq in 2004 to describe armed groups nominally loyal to the government — as opposed to Sunni Arab "insurgents" who were fighting against it.
The Kurds managed to get their militia, the peshmerga, legally recognized as a legitimate defense force of the three provinces the Kurds run. Everywhere else peshmerga fighters were incorporated into the Iraqi army. So the word "militia" really refers specifically to Shiites.
That presents a problem for al-Maliki as he works to disband "militias." They are his fellow Shiites. Hence, terms like "armed groups" are preferred to describe them — or "death squads" when they commit atrocities.
• Robert H. Reid
___
Friday, Aug. 4, 9:30 p.m. local
CAMP ANACONDA
There was no Diet Coke today at the dining facility. For a few seconds, I was a little irritated. I try to limit my caffeine intake and keep it to one Diet Coke a day, but I do look forward to my soda with a little ice.
After a few seconds I remembered that just about all the food that is eaten on this base is driven by truck, possibly from Kuwait to the south or Turkey to the north. And those truck drivers — many from neighboring countries such as Saudi Arabia or Jordan — take horrible risks driving on roads that are filled with homemade bombs set by insurgents and ambushes set up by people wanting to steal their loads.
So every time that something such as Diet Coke doesn't make it to the dining facility or the mail doesn't arrive or there's no sour cream for the baked potatoes, it could mean that a driver out on the roads of Iraq is dead.
Of course, it could mean that an order wasn't put in on time or there was a shortage of sour cream, but there's always a strong chance that the food convoy was ambushed.
The military has taken steps to cut down on the number of convoys on the roads, including building water purification centers at different bases so bottled water doesn't have to be imported. The food at this base, Camp Anaconda, is relatively good, complete with macaroni and cheese, usually four flavors of Baskin Robbins ice cream, including one of my favorites, mint chocolate chip, and a refrigerator full of canned sodas.
The military tries to take care of the soldiers who are usually spending a year of their lives over here by giving them good meals instead of forcing them to eat the packaged food called "Meals Ready to Eat" that are often found on the battlefield.
Also, troops who are well taken care of also tend to stay in the military. But for everything that I eat, I can't help thinking of whoever drove it here.
• Rebecca Santana
___
Tuesday, Aug. 1, 8:30 p.m. local
CAMP ANACONDA
When I need to file my stories or check e-mail, I take my computer and satellite phone out to a gravel field near the trailer where I'm staying. I sit down, set up my equipment and type away. As I was sitting there a few nights ago, I noticed helicopters coming in, pairs of Black Hawks flying low and slow, almost tracing the road that runs in front of the field where I was sitting. First two helicopters, one following the other, flew by. Then, maybe 20 minutes later, another pair flew by. I didn't think too much of it because if you look into the sky around Camp Anaconda, there's almost always a plane or helicopter flying overhead.
It wasn't until the next day that I found out what was going on. The Black Hawks were most likely taking patients to the Air Force hospital on base, where the most seriously injured American soldiers or Marines in Iraq are treated, usually before moving on to a hospital in Germany. The hospital also treats Iraqi military, police, civilians, even insurgents. Now, every time I now see those helicopters — and you see them with frightening regularity — I can't help thinking of whoever's inside, ripped open by shrapnel or pockmarked by bullets.
• Rebecca Santana
Ellie