thedrifter
10-08-07, 07:20 PM
With jammers, U.S. targets bombmakers
Ontario Argus Observer, OR
Editor’s note: This is the final installment of a multi-story series regarding the effort by U.S. forces in Iraq and Afghanistan to combat IED attacks.
Rick Atkinson
The Washington Post
BAGHDAD, Iraq — In the early spring of 2006, perhaps the most important document in Baghdad was known as the MOASS — the Mother of All Spreadsheets — a vast compilation of radio frequencies that insurgents used to trigger roadside bombs. In some areas of Iraq, 70 percent of all improvised explosive devices were radio-controlled, and they caused more than half of all American combat deaths. An overworked Army intelligence officer tracked the frequencies, and an equally overworked Navy electrical engineer matched them against 14 varieties of electronic jammer used by coalition forces. As new frequencies popped up, the updated MOASS was analyzed by the National Security Agency, by Navy electronic warfare specialists in Maryland and by Army specialists in New Jersey, which led to recommended adjustments in the jammer settings. Those modified “loadsets” were then e-mailed to U.S. military forces throughout Iraq so that the jammers could be reprogrammed. The cumbersome process took weeks, by which time new frequencies had been logged into the spreadsheet, requiring further analysis and further reprogramming even as hundreds of new jammers arrived in Iraq each month. “It was a mess,” a senior defense official recalled.
By the end of 2006, the Department of Defense had spent more than $1 billion during the year just on jammers. Fielding them “proved the largest technological challenge for DOD in the war, on a scale last experienced in World War II,” according to Col. William G. Adamson, a former staff officer for the Joint IED Defeat Organization (JIEDDO), the Pentagon office coordinating the campaign.
The U.S. strategy was defined in six words: “Put them back on the wire.” By neutralizing radio-controlled bombs, the jammers would force insurgent bombmakers to use more rudimentary triggers, such as command wire. Those triggers would be simpler to detect, in theory, and would bring the triggermen closer to their bombs, where U.S. troops could capture or kill them.
That strategy has succeeded. In the subsequent 18 months, radio-controlled bombs would shrink to 10 percent of all IEDs in Iraq. Today, bombs triggered by simple command wire have increased to 40 percent of the total.
But the threat from IEDs has barely diminished. In the first seven months of this year, there were 20,781 roadside bomb attacks in Iraq, one every 15 minutes. And as of this morning, IEDs have killed 440 U.S. troops this year. Putting them back on the wire has proved a mixed blessing.
ooo
Different jammers worked by different means. Active jammers screamed constantly, disrupting radio-controlled bombs with a barrage of radio waves on pre-selected frequencies that drowned out the triggering signal. Reactive jammers “scanned and jammed” by monitoring the electromagnetic spectrum — like a human ear in a crowded restaurant listening for a voice that whispered “detonate, detonate, detonate” — and then blocked the frequencies they were programmed to block.
Since the invasion of Iraq in March 2003, a hodgepodge of jammers had arrived in Mesopotamia, both active and reactive, weak and powerful: Warlock Green, Warlock Red, Warlock Blue, ICE, MICE, SSVJ, MMBJ, Cottonwood, Jukebox, Symphony. Collectively they were now known as CREW, an awkward acronym within an acronym: counter radio-controlled IED electronic warfare.
As more jammers flooded the war zone, the mess grew messier. For many months, the shortcomings in electronic warfare expertise had been evident among Army and Marine units. “We had all these boxes over there and people didn’t know how to use them,” said Rear Adm. Arch Macy, commander of the Naval Surface Warfare Center. “They’d turn them on, thinking they were protected when they weren’t.”
Electronic “fratricide” intensified, with more instances of jammers disrupting coalition radios and even the radio links to unmanned aerial vehicles. More troops switched off their CREW systems rather than risk disrupting their radios; rumors circulated that jammers actually detonated IEDs.
In some instances, according to a senior officer in Baghdad, investigations of fatal IED attacks revealed that “the device that killed them was triggered by a frequency that could have been stopped by proper jamming.” A now-retired Army lieutenant colonel said, “There were a whole lot of things that made you just want to cry.”
Among the biggest problems was simply the crowded electromagnetic environment in Iraq. Most fiber-optic and above-ground telephone lines had either been destroyed during the 2003 invasion or subsequently looted by copper-wire scavengers. Now 27 million Iraqis use unregulated cellphones, walkie-talkies, satellite phones, long-distance cordless phones and, in hundreds of instances each month, radio-controlled bombs. About 150,000 coalition troops also sent out a great spray of electronic emissions, which mutated dramatically every time new equipment or a new contingent of soldiers arrived, including some with old Warsaw Pact electronics. “People have said it’s the most challenging electromagnetic place in the world,” a Navy captain said. “It’s very complex.” Trying to make sense of the signals, he added, was “like having your head underwater.”
This was especially true in Baghdad, where the electromagnetic environment seemed to vary between neighborhoods, between seasons, between times of day. “No one realized,” the senior Pentagon official said, “how much tougher jamming was going to be in the ground plane” — the ground-air interface, where earth meets sky. The Army logistician added: “We didn’t scientifically map out the problem set, so we didn’t know the normal electronic noise of a taxi driver doing his thing, the doorbells, the garage door openers, the satellite communications. ... You have to know the normal program of life.”
The Pentagon would spend millions of dollars trying to replicate Baghdad’s idiosyncratic airwaves in laboratories and at Yuma Proving Ground in Arizona. Senior commanders in Baghdad “were going bonkers,” the Army colonel recalled. “They were saying, ‘How do we fix this?’ “
Worse yet, there were problems with Duke, the sophisticated reactive jammer the Pentagon had decided would replace the various models being used in Iraq. Syracuse Research Corp., a not-for-profit company created by Syracuse University in 1957, had won the competition for Duke using design concepts developed by Army engineers at Fort Monmouth, N.J. The contract was signed in June 2005, with the first Duke — a big box with a big antenna — completed in November. But deployment to Iraq was delayed to allow adjustments and more tests. This state of affairs pleased no one, but it particularly displeased the Marine Corps. Marine casualties had been severe in Anbar province, where high-powered radio-controlled IEDs were pernicious. Some Marine officers also feared that they could be shortchanged as Dukes reached the field, that the Army was “taking all the good stuff,” as one source put it. “The issue got ugly with recriminations.”
“It was part service rivalry, part delivery schedules, and partly that no one could make stuff fast enough,” said Macy, the rear admiral. “You can’t walk into Circuit City and say, ‘I want 25,000 high-powered jammers.’”
The Marines had already hedged their bets. Med-Eng Systems, a Canadian firm, made an active jammer that worked by “blasting away, locking up everything,” according to a retired Navy captain. As a foreign firm, Med-Eng needed a U.S. partner to work on classified programs. Soon a corporate marriage was arranged with General Dynamics Armament and Technical Products in Charlotte.
If inelegant, the jammer had showed promise in tests conducted in the summer of 2005. Because it could be reprogrammed to meet changing insurgent threats, from key fobs to cellphones, the gadget was named Chameleon.
The Marines bought 1,000 Chameleons in November 2005. After encouraging tests at Johns Hopkins University Applied Physics Laboratory and elsewhere, the Marines announced on Feb. 8, 2006, a $289 million contract that increased the purchase to 4,000 Chameleons, which later grew to 10,000. General Dynamics threw its considerable heft into the project, even using a corporate jet as a delivery van to pick up components nationwide, according to company sources. “Marines take care of their own,” a General Dynamics talking point advised, but the company also eyed a bigger prize. Noting an “Army requirement of 20,000 systems” worth $1.5 billion by 2008, General Dynamics intended to “pursue the Army requirement and displace Syracuse Research,” according to a defense industry document. A corporate information campaign would promote Chameleon’s virtues to Army and congressional leaders.
“We’ve pursued business opportunities,” a General Dynamics spokesman said last week. “We were well aware of the Army requirement.” A spokesman for Syracuse Research declined to comment, citing “contract restrictions.”
In Baghdad, confusion only intensified as hundreds and then thousands of new jammers flooded in, some active and others reactive. Duke’s shortcomings — “it was looking like a turkey,” the senior Pentagon official said — grew so grievous by late spring that officials considered scrapping the jammer altogether in favor of Chameleon.
A naval officer, Capt. David J. “Fuzz” Harrison, had spent the winter of 2005-2006 in Baghdad trying to figure out how to fix the jammer problem. “The ground electronic warfare fight that’s killing so many soldiers and Marines would be greatly aided by having people here who know electronic warfare,” Harrison reported. That meant the Navy, which had extensive experience in electronic combat and had recently been chosen to coordinate all of the military’s CREW systems.
Retired Gen. Montgomery C. Meigs, head of the Pentagon’s counter-IED effort, returned from Baghdad in early February 2006 with similar conclusions. Expertise was needed in divisions, brigades, regiments and battalions. Harrison and Col. Kevin D. Lutz, commander of Task Force Troy, the counter-IED brigade in Iraq, calculated that nearly 300 electronic warfare officers would be required. The Navy agreed to provide them. After brief training at Naval Air Station Whidbey Island in Washington state, the first batch of 33 Navy electronic warfare experts arrived in Baghdad on April 15, 2006. Hundreds followed. Distributed throughout the force, they made an immediate impact.
Now soldiers and Marines had an expert to adjust those finicky boxes and antennas, and to offer advice on using jammers as a weapon against radio-controlled bombs. “It was,” Meigs later said of the Navy’s commitment, “a stroke of genius.”
^-0-<
By the summer of 2006, radio-triggered IEDs had dropped to less than half the total, and they would keep plummeting for the next year. Duke became a valued battlefield asset in Iraq, and 2,300 eventually reached Afghanistan to begin replacing the venerable Acorn, which had first arrived in 2003. The integration of active and reactive jammers in both theaters proceeded apace. “Scar-tissue learning,” as Meigs called the process, turned soldiers and Marines into capable electronic warriors.
Yet insurgent bombers found other options. Simple pressure plates — two metal strips that completed an electrical firing circuit when pressed together by a tire or an unsuspecting boot — appeared in great numbers. More than one-quarter of bomb triggers were soon classified as “VO”: victim-operated.
These included growing numbers of explosively formed penetrators (EFPs), which often used passive infrared triggers tripped by a passing victim. EFPs became as flamboyant as they were deadly; a bomb with 54 warheads configured in nine “arrays” was discovered before detonation on May 17, 2006. Despite increasingly sharp warnings from the Bush administration to Iran, which was accused of supplying the bombs and other war materiel, EFPs continued to take a horrific toll in Shiite-controlled sectors of Iraq.
Six cavalry troopers would be killed in a blast on March 15 of this year, and from April 1 through July 31 roughly 300 EFP attacks occurred. EFPs still account for only about 3 percent of all roadside bombs in Iraq, but the 250 Americans killed by the devices since 2004 amount to 17 percent of all bomb deaths, according to military sources.
Underbelly or “deep buried” IEDs continued to take an even greater toll — more than half of all coalition forces killed early this summer, for example, although only 15 percent of all bombs were classified as deep buried. The Pentagon agreed to buy at least 7,800 sturdy Mine Resistant Ambush Protected (MRAP) vehicles with V-shaped hulls for approximately $1 million each. Prudent soldiers on patrol now searched every road culvert; some units began welding shut manhole covers.
An incident June 28 in the East Rashid neighborhood of Baghdad illuminated a disquieting trend: A single underbelly IED, so violent that investigators initially believed the blast came from several car bombs, killed five soldiers and wounded seven.
Bombmakers increasingly used homemade explosives brewed from fertilizer-based urea nitrate in kiddie swimming pools or huge aluminum cauldrons, then spread on flat rooftops to dry and packed in rice bags. On July 17, bombers detonated 1,500 pounds of homemade explosives in a culvert north of Baghdad. The blast heaved a 26-ton armored vehicle 60 feet through the air, killing two Navy crewmen, according to investigative documents. Other bombmakers in late 2006 began using acetone to leach the explosives from artillery and mortar shells; much lighter and more portable, the stuff could then be molded into car wheel wells or hidden almost anywhere.
Multiple suicide truck bombs were orchestrated to penetrate sturdy perimeter defenses, like the twin blasts in late April of this year that killed nine soldiers from the 82nd Airborne in a schoolhouse command post north of Baghdad.
Another nasty variation first appeared in October 2006 with the first use of chlorine gas in an IED. Sixteen more chlorine attacks would occur, but insurgents found, as World War I soldiers had, that “it is very difficult to create a lethal concentration of chlorine gas,” an Army colonel in Baghdad reported. “The gas cloud rapidly dissipates.”
To read more...........
www.argusobserver.com/articles/2007/10/08/news/02.prt
Ellie
Ontario Argus Observer, OR
Editor’s note: This is the final installment of a multi-story series regarding the effort by U.S. forces in Iraq and Afghanistan to combat IED attacks.
Rick Atkinson
The Washington Post
BAGHDAD, Iraq — In the early spring of 2006, perhaps the most important document in Baghdad was known as the MOASS — the Mother of All Spreadsheets — a vast compilation of radio frequencies that insurgents used to trigger roadside bombs. In some areas of Iraq, 70 percent of all improvised explosive devices were radio-controlled, and they caused more than half of all American combat deaths. An overworked Army intelligence officer tracked the frequencies, and an equally overworked Navy electrical engineer matched them against 14 varieties of electronic jammer used by coalition forces. As new frequencies popped up, the updated MOASS was analyzed by the National Security Agency, by Navy electronic warfare specialists in Maryland and by Army specialists in New Jersey, which led to recommended adjustments in the jammer settings. Those modified “loadsets” were then e-mailed to U.S. military forces throughout Iraq so that the jammers could be reprogrammed. The cumbersome process took weeks, by which time new frequencies had been logged into the spreadsheet, requiring further analysis and further reprogramming even as hundreds of new jammers arrived in Iraq each month. “It was a mess,” a senior defense official recalled.
By the end of 2006, the Department of Defense had spent more than $1 billion during the year just on jammers. Fielding them “proved the largest technological challenge for DOD in the war, on a scale last experienced in World War II,” according to Col. William G. Adamson, a former staff officer for the Joint IED Defeat Organization (JIEDDO), the Pentagon office coordinating the campaign.
The U.S. strategy was defined in six words: “Put them back on the wire.” By neutralizing radio-controlled bombs, the jammers would force insurgent bombmakers to use more rudimentary triggers, such as command wire. Those triggers would be simpler to detect, in theory, and would bring the triggermen closer to their bombs, where U.S. troops could capture or kill them.
That strategy has succeeded. In the subsequent 18 months, radio-controlled bombs would shrink to 10 percent of all IEDs in Iraq. Today, bombs triggered by simple command wire have increased to 40 percent of the total.
But the threat from IEDs has barely diminished. In the first seven months of this year, there were 20,781 roadside bomb attacks in Iraq, one every 15 minutes. And as of this morning, IEDs have killed 440 U.S. troops this year. Putting them back on the wire has proved a mixed blessing.
ooo
Different jammers worked by different means. Active jammers screamed constantly, disrupting radio-controlled bombs with a barrage of radio waves on pre-selected frequencies that drowned out the triggering signal. Reactive jammers “scanned and jammed” by monitoring the electromagnetic spectrum — like a human ear in a crowded restaurant listening for a voice that whispered “detonate, detonate, detonate” — and then blocked the frequencies they were programmed to block.
Since the invasion of Iraq in March 2003, a hodgepodge of jammers had arrived in Mesopotamia, both active and reactive, weak and powerful: Warlock Green, Warlock Red, Warlock Blue, ICE, MICE, SSVJ, MMBJ, Cottonwood, Jukebox, Symphony. Collectively they were now known as CREW, an awkward acronym within an acronym: counter radio-controlled IED electronic warfare.
As more jammers flooded the war zone, the mess grew messier. For many months, the shortcomings in electronic warfare expertise had been evident among Army and Marine units. “We had all these boxes over there and people didn’t know how to use them,” said Rear Adm. Arch Macy, commander of the Naval Surface Warfare Center. “They’d turn them on, thinking they were protected when they weren’t.”
Electronic “fratricide” intensified, with more instances of jammers disrupting coalition radios and even the radio links to unmanned aerial vehicles. More troops switched off their CREW systems rather than risk disrupting their radios; rumors circulated that jammers actually detonated IEDs.
In some instances, according to a senior officer in Baghdad, investigations of fatal IED attacks revealed that “the device that killed them was triggered by a frequency that could have been stopped by proper jamming.” A now-retired Army lieutenant colonel said, “There were a whole lot of things that made you just want to cry.”
Among the biggest problems was simply the crowded electromagnetic environment in Iraq. Most fiber-optic and above-ground telephone lines had either been destroyed during the 2003 invasion or subsequently looted by copper-wire scavengers. Now 27 million Iraqis use unregulated cellphones, walkie-talkies, satellite phones, long-distance cordless phones and, in hundreds of instances each month, radio-controlled bombs. About 150,000 coalition troops also sent out a great spray of electronic emissions, which mutated dramatically every time new equipment or a new contingent of soldiers arrived, including some with old Warsaw Pact electronics. “People have said it’s the most challenging electromagnetic place in the world,” a Navy captain said. “It’s very complex.” Trying to make sense of the signals, he added, was “like having your head underwater.”
This was especially true in Baghdad, where the electromagnetic environment seemed to vary between neighborhoods, between seasons, between times of day. “No one realized,” the senior Pentagon official said, “how much tougher jamming was going to be in the ground plane” — the ground-air interface, where earth meets sky. The Army logistician added: “We didn’t scientifically map out the problem set, so we didn’t know the normal electronic noise of a taxi driver doing his thing, the doorbells, the garage door openers, the satellite communications. ... You have to know the normal program of life.”
The Pentagon would spend millions of dollars trying to replicate Baghdad’s idiosyncratic airwaves in laboratories and at Yuma Proving Ground in Arizona. Senior commanders in Baghdad “were going bonkers,” the Army colonel recalled. “They were saying, ‘How do we fix this?’ “
Worse yet, there were problems with Duke, the sophisticated reactive jammer the Pentagon had decided would replace the various models being used in Iraq. Syracuse Research Corp., a not-for-profit company created by Syracuse University in 1957, had won the competition for Duke using design concepts developed by Army engineers at Fort Monmouth, N.J. The contract was signed in June 2005, with the first Duke — a big box with a big antenna — completed in November. But deployment to Iraq was delayed to allow adjustments and more tests. This state of affairs pleased no one, but it particularly displeased the Marine Corps. Marine casualties had been severe in Anbar province, where high-powered radio-controlled IEDs were pernicious. Some Marine officers also feared that they could be shortchanged as Dukes reached the field, that the Army was “taking all the good stuff,” as one source put it. “The issue got ugly with recriminations.”
“It was part service rivalry, part delivery schedules, and partly that no one could make stuff fast enough,” said Macy, the rear admiral. “You can’t walk into Circuit City and say, ‘I want 25,000 high-powered jammers.’”
The Marines had already hedged their bets. Med-Eng Systems, a Canadian firm, made an active jammer that worked by “blasting away, locking up everything,” according to a retired Navy captain. As a foreign firm, Med-Eng needed a U.S. partner to work on classified programs. Soon a corporate marriage was arranged with General Dynamics Armament and Technical Products in Charlotte.
If inelegant, the jammer had showed promise in tests conducted in the summer of 2005. Because it could be reprogrammed to meet changing insurgent threats, from key fobs to cellphones, the gadget was named Chameleon.
The Marines bought 1,000 Chameleons in November 2005. After encouraging tests at Johns Hopkins University Applied Physics Laboratory and elsewhere, the Marines announced on Feb. 8, 2006, a $289 million contract that increased the purchase to 4,000 Chameleons, which later grew to 10,000. General Dynamics threw its considerable heft into the project, even using a corporate jet as a delivery van to pick up components nationwide, according to company sources. “Marines take care of their own,” a General Dynamics talking point advised, but the company also eyed a bigger prize. Noting an “Army requirement of 20,000 systems” worth $1.5 billion by 2008, General Dynamics intended to “pursue the Army requirement and displace Syracuse Research,” according to a defense industry document. A corporate information campaign would promote Chameleon’s virtues to Army and congressional leaders.
“We’ve pursued business opportunities,” a General Dynamics spokesman said last week. “We were well aware of the Army requirement.” A spokesman for Syracuse Research declined to comment, citing “contract restrictions.”
In Baghdad, confusion only intensified as hundreds and then thousands of new jammers flooded in, some active and others reactive. Duke’s shortcomings — “it was looking like a turkey,” the senior Pentagon official said — grew so grievous by late spring that officials considered scrapping the jammer altogether in favor of Chameleon.
A naval officer, Capt. David J. “Fuzz” Harrison, had spent the winter of 2005-2006 in Baghdad trying to figure out how to fix the jammer problem. “The ground electronic warfare fight that’s killing so many soldiers and Marines would be greatly aided by having people here who know electronic warfare,” Harrison reported. That meant the Navy, which had extensive experience in electronic combat and had recently been chosen to coordinate all of the military’s CREW systems.
Retired Gen. Montgomery C. Meigs, head of the Pentagon’s counter-IED effort, returned from Baghdad in early February 2006 with similar conclusions. Expertise was needed in divisions, brigades, regiments and battalions. Harrison and Col. Kevin D. Lutz, commander of Task Force Troy, the counter-IED brigade in Iraq, calculated that nearly 300 electronic warfare officers would be required. The Navy agreed to provide them. After brief training at Naval Air Station Whidbey Island in Washington state, the first batch of 33 Navy electronic warfare experts arrived in Baghdad on April 15, 2006. Hundreds followed. Distributed throughout the force, they made an immediate impact.
Now soldiers and Marines had an expert to adjust those finicky boxes and antennas, and to offer advice on using jammers as a weapon against radio-controlled bombs. “It was,” Meigs later said of the Navy’s commitment, “a stroke of genius.”
^-0-<
By the summer of 2006, radio-triggered IEDs had dropped to less than half the total, and they would keep plummeting for the next year. Duke became a valued battlefield asset in Iraq, and 2,300 eventually reached Afghanistan to begin replacing the venerable Acorn, which had first arrived in 2003. The integration of active and reactive jammers in both theaters proceeded apace. “Scar-tissue learning,” as Meigs called the process, turned soldiers and Marines into capable electronic warriors.
Yet insurgent bombers found other options. Simple pressure plates — two metal strips that completed an electrical firing circuit when pressed together by a tire or an unsuspecting boot — appeared in great numbers. More than one-quarter of bomb triggers were soon classified as “VO”: victim-operated.
These included growing numbers of explosively formed penetrators (EFPs), which often used passive infrared triggers tripped by a passing victim. EFPs became as flamboyant as they were deadly; a bomb with 54 warheads configured in nine “arrays” was discovered before detonation on May 17, 2006. Despite increasingly sharp warnings from the Bush administration to Iran, which was accused of supplying the bombs and other war materiel, EFPs continued to take a horrific toll in Shiite-controlled sectors of Iraq.
Six cavalry troopers would be killed in a blast on March 15 of this year, and from April 1 through July 31 roughly 300 EFP attacks occurred. EFPs still account for only about 3 percent of all roadside bombs in Iraq, but the 250 Americans killed by the devices since 2004 amount to 17 percent of all bomb deaths, according to military sources.
Underbelly or “deep buried” IEDs continued to take an even greater toll — more than half of all coalition forces killed early this summer, for example, although only 15 percent of all bombs were classified as deep buried. The Pentagon agreed to buy at least 7,800 sturdy Mine Resistant Ambush Protected (MRAP) vehicles with V-shaped hulls for approximately $1 million each. Prudent soldiers on patrol now searched every road culvert; some units began welding shut manhole covers.
An incident June 28 in the East Rashid neighborhood of Baghdad illuminated a disquieting trend: A single underbelly IED, so violent that investigators initially believed the blast came from several car bombs, killed five soldiers and wounded seven.
Bombmakers increasingly used homemade explosives brewed from fertilizer-based urea nitrate in kiddie swimming pools or huge aluminum cauldrons, then spread on flat rooftops to dry and packed in rice bags. On July 17, bombers detonated 1,500 pounds of homemade explosives in a culvert north of Baghdad. The blast heaved a 26-ton armored vehicle 60 feet through the air, killing two Navy crewmen, according to investigative documents. Other bombmakers in late 2006 began using acetone to leach the explosives from artillery and mortar shells; much lighter and more portable, the stuff could then be molded into car wheel wells or hidden almost anywhere.
Multiple suicide truck bombs were orchestrated to penetrate sturdy perimeter defenses, like the twin blasts in late April of this year that killed nine soldiers from the 82nd Airborne in a schoolhouse command post north of Baghdad.
Another nasty variation first appeared in October 2006 with the first use of chlorine gas in an IED. Sixteen more chlorine attacks would occur, but insurgents found, as World War I soldiers had, that “it is very difficult to create a lethal concentration of chlorine gas,” an Army colonel in Baghdad reported. “The gas cloud rapidly dissipates.”
To read more...........
www.argusobserver.com/articles/2007/10/08/news/02.prt
Ellie