Sports Byline USA Goes to Iraq

Iraq Perspective

I went over there with no political agenda or personal political perspective. I did so purposely because it was my desire to see this part of the world, the war, Iraq and the American men and women who are fighting it on a human basis. This is the same way I approach sports and doing Sports Byline. I’m more interested in “why” something happens in sports, the human side of the athlete and the reasons behind the issues in sports than in the scores and the “x’s” and “o’s” of sports. In the war, as well as in sports, the person is the most important denominator.

The American culture, and the way we live our lives here, makes it difficult to understand how different Iraq and the Middle East truly is. Their lives, culture, values and history are totally different from ours. I went into this experience with an open mind, but still it was jarring to see things I had never seen before. Reading about it or seeing it on television never gives one a true picture, especially when it’s so different than our daily experiences. An example is Execution Square in Kuwait where public hangings are carried out. For that reason, there’s no drug trafficking problem in Kuwait. I’ve also learned that insurgents in Iraq shot a six year-old boy in the chest after he took candy from American soldiers. These examples go against all of our senses, but are a part the daily life in Iraq. For most of us it would be impossible to deal with and stomach that sort of daily existence. Think then of how it is for our troop to have to deal with it. It takes the strongest of fortitude and character for them to deal with it, and at the same time carry out their assignments.

One of the strong, early senses I got was about the quality of those who are wearing the American military uniform. While I was primarily involved with U.S. Army personnel, I imagine this sense is the same of all the uniformed service personnel in Iraq. I’m sure many people feel those in the Army are those who have no direction, don’t know what they want to do with their lives, are running away from something or have been trouble makers and this is an alternative to jail for them. I base these observations on a very unscientific survey I did of 5 people whom I asked, “What kind of person do you think joins the Army?” What I found universally to be the case was today’s Army, in Iraq, is made up of well focused, well disciplined, well motivated, smart, nice and very committed men and women. This is NOT a losers Army. They are the best and brightest we have.

Motivation and commitment go hand in hand. I often hear on Sports Byline that fans wish athletes played the game for the “love of the game instead of for the money.” I found in Iraq the men and women who did what they're doing, and made a commitment, did so for various personal reasons and motivation, and certainly not for the money. How else can you explain a young soldier, Lisa, lying on a bed of rocks, working under a Humvee in 130 degree heat? It's her second tour of duty in Iraq and she told me she would be back for a third tour. Or a young soldier, Chris, who told me about having to sleep outside, in the winter cold of Mosul, on a tin roof for two weeks. I heard too many stories like this to relate them all. Accept it as fact that stories like these are happening all over Iraq.

Having come from a military family, I once again witnessed the two levels of the military, the non-commissioned officer and the officer. The officer corps I witnessed was business like, efficient and well equipped to run today’s Army. One important thing they do, especially in a combat theater, is connect with their troops. They maintain the chain of command structure, but they also eat side by side in the mess hall with the troops. They interact with them in these situations on a human level. Sports and family talk know no rank.

The two officers I had the most exposure to were Col. Bob Brown, Commanding Officer, and Captain Duane Limpert, both of the 1st Brigade, 25th Infantry Division. Other officers I came in contact with were of the same high caliber. Col. Brown was the reason I finally was able to get to Iraq and broadcast. Brown said, “Make it happen,” and Capt. Limpert did. Brown is an officer of vision and energy, and he communicates both to his men. They believe in him and love being under his command. I spent several late nights talking with Brown, only to find him out early the next morning meeting one of his patrols coming in. Any combat patrol or assignment he asked his men to do, he was willing to do himself. He, and the officers in his command, and all the others like them across Iraq, are the heart and soul of the war effort.

I saved my perspective on the war itself for last. The most asked questions I get from those who know where I’ve been is “Are we winning the war? What’s really going on?” From a strictly military standpoint, we ARE winning the BATTLE. Winning the WAR is multi-faceted and more difficult to say when you figure in the political aspects of the Iraq conflict. From personal observations, conversations with those who are fighting the war, and casual conversations with Iraqis who are helping the Americans, here is what I can say. The ultimate success of this mission will be determined by whether the Iraqis can and will fight for their country and their future. I think there’s a willingness to fight, but history suggests the Iraqi people are more accustomed to being suppressed, and democracy is a word the President likes to use and not necessarily one the Iraqis embrace or fully understand. Democracy will be more difficult to establish in Iraq then simply giving them the right to vote. An infrastructure and peace must be established in order for that to even be a possibility. All the Iraqis want is the ability to go about their lives in safety, enjoy their families, have enough to eat, work, and have a decent standard of living. Right now that doesn’t exist. Long term, education is another important ingredient. Educated people are able to debate and compromise, uneducated people are often only able to fight and kill. The outcome of the war in Iraq is still in the balance. Our superior fire power makes the combat battles easy to win, but the total fight to determine the outcome of the war will ultimately have to be won by the Iraqis themselves.

Finally, I was touched deeply in so many human ways. From Major Earl Burress, Jr. and his C-130 flight crew and loadmasters, who flew me into Iraq and allowed me to watch them execute a professional and precision flight mission, to the men and women of the 1-25th Stryker Brigade who shared their stories of life at home, in Iraq and on the battlefield. For me this was a trip about people who ARE the real heroes of life. Their commitment and sacrifice for no other reason than it’s their job and they said they’d do it. I thank each and every one of them for enhancing my life, and I have a deeper appreciation of theirs.

I’m Ron Barr.

*Below you can read my running journal of my tour in Iraq with the American soldiers. Please email your thoughts to rbarr@sportsbyline.com.

On the Road to Iraq: You’re going Where? Are You Nuts? (8.17.05)

Well, it’s finally here. The day we leave. I’ve been looking forward to taking Sports Byline USA to Iraq for a long time. Why? Are you nuts, you say? Let’s just say it’s the explorer in me. When all else fails, I fall back on the excuse that I’m an Aquarius. Actually, I come from a military family background. I know what military life is like and I have a deep respect for those who have made a commitment to serve. I want, in my own way, to give something back. Equally important is the long relationship Sports Byline has had with the American Forces Network. Sports Byline USA, and our network is heard world wide on the more then 500 stations, in 177 countries, on AFN. Over the years, I’ve received numerous letters and comments from our servicemen and women about how much they’ve enjoyed listening to me when they were stationed somewhere in the world. Their comments and appreciation has always touched me deeply. With this trip, I hope I can return some of their kindness.

The question I’ve been asked most by friends and colleagues is, “Are you afraid?” The answer is “no.” I’ve always liked taking control of a situation, making decisions and accepting challenges. More than likely, it’s my lust for life and my preference to “know rather then wonder.” I’m a pilot and I like making command decisions. I’m also a realist. I know the dangers, but I’m not afraid to take “smart chances.” I want to see what these courageous American men and woman are facing each day, and the life they now have, having honored their commitment to go to war in a foreign land. I know I’ll be touched by their humanity. I want to be able to bring them a break from their day-to-day reality with a touch of home. I want to let them talk to their sports heroes and to have them laugh and remember what their lives back home are like. I’m also interested in seeing, meeting, talking with, and getting to know, as best I can, the people these men and women are fighting for, and in some case against. It’s one thing to know what is happening in Iraq, it’s another to understand how and why it’s happening.

For a long time, older generations have snickered at the younger generation. Their music, their dress, their lack of commitment and their care free attitude toward life. However, I have a deep appreciation for the commitment our younger generation has made to this assignment. As in all wars America has fought, political views aside, this commitment-- and in some cases the life giving effort-- is equal to younger generations of the past and should be honored and deeply appreciated. Nearly 2,000 American men and women, mostly young, have given their lives. I’m not going to Iraq to debate the value of this war, or question it, I’m going to honor those who are there, those who have been there, and hopefully bring them a couple of hours of carefree happiness and remembrance of home.

One thing I already know about this trip. It will be life altering for me. It will add to my understanding of others, the human spirit, and my appreciation for life in general. No matter what happens, I will be a better person for this experience. Let the adventure begin. I’ll see you in Iraq.

If This Is Thursday, This Must Be Kuwait (8.18.05)

Two plane rides and 20 hours later we landed at Kuwait International Airport. I immediately knew I was in a different place in the world. First, it was 122 degrees at 9pm, and second, the different dress and culture was quite evident. It was strange. It's one thing to read about this part of the world, and even see it on television, but it's quite different to be immersed in it.

Before I get ahead of myself, let me tell you about the rest of the Sports Byline USA crew, and our getting here. It's like the Three Amigos. Jon Bullock, we call him "J.B.", is our crew leader and trip coordinator. He works for AKA Productions, the company the U.S. Army uses to make sure everything goes well and we don't get in trouble. All you need to know about J.B. is that he's a free spirit and a musician. Sarge is the other Amigo. Sarge is a part time sportscaster, full time comic who has appeared on HBO, in Las Vegas (he's at Caesar’s in December) and works the cruise ship circuit for Princess Cruise Line. He's very funny, unpredictable, a loose cannon and I invited him along to not only work the crowd of servicemen and women at our broadcasts, and co-host with me at times, but also to do "his comic thing" for the troops. The troops are going to love him, not only for his name, but he's the size of a humvee and takes no prisoners with his comedy. The challenge will be finding body armor to fit him. He's not fat; he's just a big guy. Six foot, 250. Think of the Bears offensive line, and I don't mean just one player-- the whole offensive line.

Sarge is the type of guy who has to graze for food every two hours. He hit the sushi restaurant at the San Francisco airport even though he knew he would be fed well in business class right after we took off. He ate the sushi on the plane before takeoff, and didn't miss a food cart on the 10-hour flight to Frankfurt, Germany. He tasted the local cuisine at the Frankfurt airport and then followed the same eating routine on the Frankfurt to Kuwait flight. He's just a big, hungry guy. The only downside to the flights was that the German stewardesses didn't understand, and at times didn't appreciate, Sarge's humor. Fun is not a part of a Lufthansa flight, even if you paid $4,504 for your business class ticket. An example of Sarge's airplane humor was he wanted to know why the passengers didn't have the tongs to get the hot towels, instead of the stewardesses dispensing the towels. They told each of us, "Be careful, they're very hot." Well, at least the other passengers thought it was funny. We have to get him out of Kuwait before there's an international incident.

J.B. has been to Iraq and other parts of the Middle East numerous times and briefed us on what to expect as well as some of his favorite war stories. He's "da man." His main job now is to find body armor to fit Sarge and make sure our C-130 is ready to roll to take us to Iraq tomorrow. Here's the good news for me. I'm cleared to ride in the cockpit. We'll all be armored up, vests, helmets, etc. It will be sweaty and hot. J.B. says Mosul will be a challenge because the town is right up against the base and the approach is right over the town. All aircraft are targets. We'll have two Blackhawk helicopters, one for transportation and one for protection. Guys in copter doorways will have guns. Sounds like something out the movies. We're ready and I'm looking forward to meeting the troops. J.B. says they are so appreciative of anything people do for them, and believe me, Sarge and I are going to bust our butts giving them a break and some fun. I'll talk to you from Iraq.

Reality Sets In (8.20.05)

As I lay in my comfortable bed at my hotel in Kuwait, I thought of how things would be quite different in 24 hours. What I didn’t realize was how different. The drive to the Kuwait air base, where we would catch our C-130 flight to Mosul was the first indication of how different things really would be. With the temperature heading toward the 120 mark, the starkness of Kuwait came into focus. Searing heat mixed with a flat, desolate, barren landscape made me wonder why anyone would live here. It made Barstow and Death Valley look like the Garden of Eden. In the middle of nowhere, towns would pop up. One road in, and the same road out.

The first dose of reality came at the air base’s first security check point. A soldier with an M-16 checked our papers and gave us a serious twice over look. I asked him how his day was going? He said, “Not good.” I asked, “Why?” He said he just found out he had been extended another month. One hundred and twenty degrees, 9,000 miles from his Yakima, Washington home and another 30 days in Kuwait would make anyone cranky. The next security check point made us get out of the car as a German Shepard sniffed our equipment, guards practically gave our car a digital anal exam and we were kept out of sight of the inspection in a cinder block building. Cleared, we moved on to the flight staging area.

Here is where the reality of what we were headed for hit me head on. U.S. Army personnel, young men and women, were outside in the searing heat, in full combat gear, getting ready to board buses which would take them to their planes, which then would take them to whatever part of Iraq and the war they were reporting for. Here was the human face of the war. I was immediately struck by how young, how focused and how resigned they were to what lie ahead and what their job was. The one thing I’ve heard repeatedly is “I have a job to do and I’m ready to do it.”

Next we checked into flight ops. This is the hurry up and wait part of the trip to Iraq. It also is when I was introduced to wearing my armored combat jacket and helmet. Damn, it’s heavy and it’s hot. We were told to go to Standby tent #1 and wait for our flight to be called. As we walked in, the reality hit me again in the face. The tent was half full of men and women, in combat fatigues and all carrying M-16s. After we settled, in I walked around and one scene will forever be etched in my mind. A room full of soldiers sleeping on cots. Their guns at their side and in one case a soldier sleeping with his arms around his M-16. For this time in his life, his M-16 was his lover.

As we waited, I had my first introduction to an MRE (Meals Ready to Eat). It was my first experience with what soldiers used to call K rations, but today is the military’s answer to meals on wheels. I had the chicken and ravioli, pound cake, pretzels and crackers and peanut butter. There was some type of cherry drink mix, but I stuck with the bottled water. The military has found some magic way to add water to a pouch, put the chicken and ravioli packet inside and in 7 minutes you have a hot meal. Some have said you should know where the nearest bathroom is after you’ve eaten an MRE, but I must say, it was good and I never needed a bathroom. I have to admit I was concerned that I might pay for it half way through our flight to Mosul. But, all turned out well.

We were told to “mount up” and move to the bus staging area for the flight. Our takeoff time would be 1800 hours (6 pm). We would be having company on the flight. A hand full of soldiers and several civilians would be joining us for the 2 hour flight. One of those on our flight was LaToya Jackson (her real name), but not that LaToya Jackson. She was a 20 something, beautiful black woman, who made army combat fatigues look stunning. And she was all business.

I requested and received permission to fly in the cockpit. As a pilot, this was where I wanted to be. These were my people and I was looking forward to getting my first C-130 time. We boarded the C-130, along with a pallet of our equipment. We stowed our personal stuff under the seats, but please don’t think of the back end of a C-130 like the cabin of 737. It’s bare bones and is primarily structured for flying equipment. No in flight movie, no meal, back killing seats and an open air standup toilet by the back door. I moved immediately to the cockpit and introduced myself to my flying mates. It was a team of four on the flight deck, two pilots, an engineer and a navigator. Down below were two other C-130 flight team members, the loadmasters. In the cockpit, sweat was streaming off us all as we sat in our armor jackets and prepared for takeoff. I was immediately struck by how good this flight team was. They were stationed in Arkansas and were on a 4 month deployment. They were combat flight ready. We taxied into position on 31 right and waited til Kuwait control gave us clearance to takeoff. We climbed out smoothly, turned left and headed toward Iraqi airspace.

After we reached out cruising altitude, what I call the "comradeship" of flying began. Crew members started teasing each other, and only those things that other pilots and soldiers in war would understand were shared. When they asked if I wanted to leave the jump seat and stand up behind the left seat I knew I was now a part of this "flying family." A glance over the navigator's seat showed a pair of red female bikini underwear. I didn’t ask and no one volunteered an explanation. The deeper we got into Iraqi airspace the more business like the crew became. The left seat was manned by a major, the right seat by a captain. As the desert sky darkened, the major offered me a pair of NVGs (Night Vision Goggles). These are used to spot potential trouble on the ground. The captain spotted two rotating lights on the ground and determined them to be flashing reds light from police cars. In the cockpit, the discussion switched to how to approach the Mosul airport. The city sits right next to the base and the approach flies dangerously low over the city. So an evasion approach with no landing lights is used. It makes it harder for the bad guys to shoot and hit you on approach. The evasion approach keeps you at a high altitude until the last minute and then your drop out of the sky and make a twisting approach and quickly sit it down on the runway. An added challenge to this landing was a recon balloon that was tethered to the left of the runway, midway down. Drift to the left and you have big trouble. While the two pilots flew the approach, the navigator and engineer looked out the right and left sides for ground fire, RPG’s or rockets. The teamwork and focus was extraordinary. Barely able to see the landing lights, the pilots guided the C-130 into a steep dive, a hard right turn, followed by a hard left turn and then pulled back as we skidded down on the runway. Power back and we were on the ground at Mosul. We taxied, lights off, to the ramp and we shook hands and said goodbye. The look a pilot gives another pilot said a lot. I was honored to have shared flight time with such talented, dedicated professionals.

I collected my gear and joined the rest of the crew and those who deplaned with us. The C-130s engines never stopped and they were on their way in 5 minutes. On to their next assignment and the end of a long 16 hour duty day.

Sarge was to perform his first comedy show for the troops 40 minutes after we landed, but we were told the show had been cancelled because of increased enemy activity and the base was on high alert. We made our way to the VIP quarters. Before we checked in for the night, they showed us where the bunkers were in case we had incoming mortar fire during the night. I feel asleep quickly, but not soundly. My mind was racing with thoughts of the day. The reality of being in Iraq had set in.

Good Morning Mosul (8.22.05)

On my first full day in Iraq at FOB (Forward Operations Base) Diamondback, I’m struck by the image of everyone carrying a rifle or gun. It’s one thing to see a man with a weapon, but seeing women of all sizes “packin heat” takes a bit of getting used to. It doesn’t matter whether you’re in battle fatigues or shorts and a T-shirt, you always have your weapon with you. You have to remind yourself you’re in a real combat zone to make any sense of it.

Lt. John Munger of the Arizona National Guard, is our constant escort and “make it happen” guy. They picked the right one for the job. In civilian life he’s a project manager. He’s friendly and very business like. Like everyone I’ve seen here they take what they do very seriously and know the consequences of not doing so can be deadly. One early surprise has been how open and honest everyone is about the challenges they face and the war they’re fighting. That candidness is probably a reflection of the general attitude of those who make up the fighting force here. Ask a question, they’ll give you an honest answer.

Like every day in Iraq, it’s getting brutally hot. Lt. Munger says it’ll be around 125 again. Long pants give way to shorts and a T-shirt as we start a long day of “meet and greets” with the troops. First stop is the 101st Air Cavalry. We drop in on the flight line where the Apache and Blackhawk helicopters are lined up. A sergeant introduces us to his squad that keeps the air wing of the army flying. Up close and personal they show us the Army’s most sophisticated, powerful fighting flying machine, the Apache. It’s impressive to look at and for a pilot like me, I’m blown away by the avionics, computers and how smart you have to be to fly the damn thing. Sitting in the cockpit of the Apache, it’s obvious these pilots are masters at multi tasking. To give you some insight on how sophisticated the Apache is, for every one hour of flight time, there’s five hours of maintenance. Its firepower is devastating and the crew got Sarge to sign one of the Apache’s Stinger rockets. Next up, the Blackhawk. Its become the workhorse for the Army, capable of hauling troops into combat and taking the fight to the enemy. Just think about the movie, Blackhawk Down. One of the squad’s top officers is a female Captain who went to UCLA.

Next up is the flight line fire department. These are civilian firemen who have signed on to do their part and make a good, tax-free salary. It’s seems most are from either North or South Carolina and it’s fair to say they're good ole boys. Like any firehouse stateside, there’s a high level of testosterone. Sarge is always “on”, but he finds his off the cuff humor gets a large dose of skepticism. They're a tough crowd, but Sarge will win them over later when they all show up for his first show here.

After lunch we head to the Motor Support Unit, known by most as the motor pool. Here is the day’s second memorable demonstration and most vivid image. The demonstration is by way of information. Most people think of the Iraq war in terms of battles, bombs and casualties, but the reality is it’s more about the behind the scenes and support. One of those hard nosed, battle hardened Army sergeants shows us around. This motor pool is about more then just trucks and humvees, it’s about keeping the U.S. Army moving. The men and women in this unit are as important as those who are fighting the war. Each night the Stryker Brigade escorts a convoy of trucks 80 miles from Turkey to Mosul with supplies of food, parts and everything else to keep this Army moving, fighting and as comfortable as anyone can be in a combat zone. Here’s the mind blowing stat: The Convoy each night is 10 miles long and takes between 8 and 16 hours to go the 80 miles, depending on breakdowns and combat conditions along the way.

The unforgettable image is provided at the motor pool by Lisa. As I’m walking by a humvee, I notice two soldiers underneath, working on the engine. I bend down and I see one of the soldiers is a wisp of a woman. Lisa is from Michigan, in her second tour of Iraq and is one of the company’s best engine mechanics. She and her partner are lying on bare rocks, in 120 degrees getting a humvee back in action. When she crawls out, I see she only weighs about 90 lbs. Her fellow soldiers and mechanics look at her with great respect. I look at her with admiration. Her small, grease stained uniform and face is not one I will forget.

It’s show time. Sarge's first show is about to start. He’s nervous. Neither of us know how large a crowd to expect and how it will go. It’s a late arriving crowd, but it’s a full house of nearly 250. It’s still strange to see an audience coming to a comedy show with M-16s. A lot of one liners come to mind. I hope Sarge doesn’t bomb, but if he does they can quickly put him out of his misery. I introduce Sarge and they applause appropriately. I can see it’s a crowd that is saying, “Make me laugh big boy.” Sarge opens saying, ”This is the first time I’ve played to an audience in which a woman is carrying an M-16 and eating a snowcone.” He follows that with, “It was so damn hot today, my crabs had canteens.” They love him and he’s off and running. An hour and ten minutes later he’s killed them and they're crying they’re laughing so hard. The show ends and everyone leaves smiling. Sarge did his part; he brought them a break from the war and you could tell they enjoyed and appreciated it. We both spent a lot time with the troops afterwards and I felt embarrassed as I kept hearing from them how much they appreciated we would come and spend time with them. If they only knew how much it meant for us to be here for and with them.

Afterwards we went over to the MWR (Morale, Welfare and Recreation) office where they were having a dance and Karaoke Party for the troops. Again, they came up to us and said “thanks.” I sat and watched these young, brave men and women enjoy themselves, laugh, dance and sing. I was struck with a thought. If you take away the thought of where they are, and the guns they're carrying, you would think this was just a multi-cultural, non alcoholic college get together.

Day one in Mosul came to a tired, but satisfying end. Maybe I can get some sleep tonight.

Sunday dawned as another sunny and very hot day. Our stay at FOB Diamondback was but a brief stopover on the way to our main objective FOB (Forward Operation Base) Courage. It’s in Mosul too, but in a different part. Mosul is Iraq’s second biggest city and was one of the country’s nastier spots. The U.S. military had to come in with the Army and the Marines, along with heavy armor and tanks to get the city under control. The unit that bore the brunt of the action, and is responsible for keeping things under control now, is the 1-25th Stryker Brigade. The Brigade’s commanders is Col. Bob Brown. Brown is a West Point grad, played basketball there when a young coach K was the head coach, and he invited me to bring Sports Byline USA to Mosul to broadcast for his troops. More about Col. Brown later.

There are two ways to get to FOB Courage, through the city by way of an armed Stryker convoy or by armed Blackhawk helicopter. Both take about 15 minutes, but convoying through the city can be dicey. The Blackhawks come under fire as well, so they fly low and fast and in a wide circle route to FOB Courage. Our crew flies in a convoy of two Blackhawks, both armed with waist gunners. I’m flying in the lead helicopter with a flak jacket and combat helmet on, along with J.B. and two soldiers. The second Blackhawk has Sarge and several others soldiers. Sarge found out again everyone here takes what they do seriously. One of those “what’s wrong with this picture” moments came as Sarge was walking to his copter and tried to have a casual conversation with one of his Blackhawk crew members. She was a tall, striking blond wearing a flight uniform, holding an M-16 and was the right waist gun in his copter. As Sarge tried to have a friendly chat, she shot him a stare and a look that said, “I’ve got a job to do, so get your ass in my helicopter.” Sarge wisely saw she was not someone to trifle with and took her stare hint to heart.

We loaded up and lifted off to the west, skirting the main part of Mosul. Being fast, and so low to the ground, heightened the rush of the flight. The sight of our two gunners scanning the horizon and ground below for trouble, and ready to fire off their machine guns, left no doubt this wasn’t just a short, scenic ride to FOB Courage. A scan of the land below showed the same desolate, barren, dirt brown landscape I’ve seen throughout my travels through Iraq. No farm lands, no pastures, very little livestock and each house barricaded by walls and fences. Then out of nowhere, a small body of water, lush green grass and a large beautifully built compound of luxurious buildings. These were the palaces of Saddam Hussein and his two sons. I was abruptly struck by the contrast between the opulence of the compound and the baroness of everything outside and around it. This was our landing objective and the command center of the 1-25th Stryker Brigade. We had reached our ultimate objective.

We were greeted by Captain Duane Limpert who had followed Col Brown’s order to “bring Sports Byline USA to FOB Courage” with dogged determination and effort. It was quickly quite event that we had moved into a stepped up combat environment with Stryker combat vehicles on the move around us and an energy pace that indicated they were on a mission. A Stryker vehicle that has a large, deadly 50 caliber machine gun mounted on it gets your attention quickly. Also, we were briefed on the environment we were now in. We were told we’d hear gun and mortar fire, and we learned how to recognize the difference between the crack of incoming mortar fire, and the whoosh of outgoing. The base also has a limited number of ISF (Iraqi Security Forces) who do some patrol and security work within the walls of FOB Courage. One of our security soldiers, Sgt. Ken Jackson of Tacoma, Washington let us know that sometimes these foot patrolling Iraqi Security Forces get bored and fire off a couple of rounds. No one seems to know what they shoot at, or if they’ve ever hit anything. They just shoot. I’m comforted by the thought that American Stryker Forces are ready as a backup if the ISF needs them. LOL

We settle into our “hooch.” Our VIP rooms at FOB Diamondback weren’t lush, but in comparison to our accommodations at FOB Courage, Diamondback is looking like the Four Seasons Hotel. I like it though because it’s just like what all the other soldiers have. This is the real war and the real military life in Iraq.

After lunch and a chance to spread our sleeping bags on our bare mattress beds, we get a quick motor tour of the base and Saddam’s Palace compound. What makes this all unique is there is a big swimming pool here and it’s used by the soldiers who are lucky enough to get a few hours off from their combat responsibilities. Let’s just say there are more then enough pool chairs go around so that should give you some idea how “down to business” these soldiers are. But, in 125 degrees, those lucky few soldiers and my crew enjoy a couple of hours of a luxury other soldiers don’t have elsewhere in Iraq.

Refreshed from the dip in the pool, I showered and finally headed to a meeting with the man who made it possible for me to come here, Col. Bob Brown. I had already heard that Col. Brown’s men deeply respected, appreciated and admired him. He was a West Point guy and a buttoned down, professional soldier who cared about his men, and vice versa. As a former basketball power forward, I knew he was over 6 foot tall. The door to his office opened, and it was like two long time friends seeing each other again. A strong handshake and a manly embrace. We spent an hour talking about the Stryker Brigade, the challenges he and his men face, professional philosophies and how the media can be so single minded and one sided, at times, in its reporting on the war. It was obvious he was smart and very good at what he does. Later, I thought about the one person who might best sum up Col. Bob Brown, and it was John Wayne. We ended our hour long conversation with another firm handshake and his invitation for me to join him later for a ride in his command Stryker vehicle. It is an invitation for me and a ride I look forward to.

A long day came to an end with another Sarge comedy show, more laughter and smiles on the faces of the troops who watched. After a sleepless night before, I was looking forward to crashing. Just as I was about to fall asleep, the rat a tat tat of automatic gunfire punctuated the Iraqi darkness. No more followed, but I knew FOB Courage was the “real deal.”

The Front Lines (8.24.05)

One of the great movie lines is in the classic war film “Apocalypse Now” when actor Robert Duval says, “I love the smell of napalm in the morning.” Soldiers have always loved their weapons. The foot soldier treats his rifle like it’s his lover. Officers fall in love with the sophisticated, star wars like “toys of war.”

Stryker Brigade Commander Col. Bob Brown took me inside the “war room” of the Stryker command center in Saddam’s palace. The first thing you see is a large electronic screen with a map of Mosul. Mosul is the second largest city in Iraq and when the 1-25th Stryker Brigade arrived last year it was a fierce battlefield. Slowly but surely, American military might overcame the guerrilla tactics of the insurgents. A look at the electronic map shows an array of icons spread across the city. These are Stryker Brigade patrols. At any time, Col. Brown can see his patrol's movements, their combat status, and monitor any combat action. It’s “star wars” in a desert, urban environment.

Col. Brown is a “hands on” commander. I took him up on his invitation to join him on a base tour in his personal Stryker command vehicle. The Stryker vehicle is the Army’s combat vehicle of choice today. It’s imposing in size and fire power, and gives the Army what it needs in speed, maneuverability and combat flexibility. The Stryker patrol teams are on the go day and night. The crew of five is imposing in its presentation. The Stryker driver looks like a crocodile barely above the surface of the water as the only thing you see is his reflective lenses inside his combat helmeted head. The gunner can work inside or out and his 50 caliber machine gun can also launch grenades. Working inside, the gunner looks like he’s playing a video game with a video screen that shows him the field of fire and lets him react appropriately. Col. Brown, or a Stryker vehicle commander, stands and pops out of a porthole on the left side. In the rear, two air guards, right and left, act as recons. Together the crew of five, with Col. Brown calling the shots, work together like Michael Jordan and the Bulls. The soldiers tell me the quick reaction and fire power of the Stryker force and equipment is one of the main reasons the enemy has decided to strike against the local Iraqi police and targets rather than the overwhelming fire power of the Americans.

One thing that hasn’t changed from war to war is the importance of the foot soldier. Showering one morning I met Chris, a foot soldier from Sacramento California, who weighs barely 160 pounds and looks like he should be starting his sophomore year of high school. I asked him how he was doing. He said, “Fine” and that it was good to get his first shower after four days of being out on patrol. I asked him how he dealt with the heat? He said, “It took awhile, but he preferred dealing with the heat instead of the cold.” Mosul has cold winters and it can even snow. Chris told me of the time, when he first got to Mosul, of having to sleep on top of a tin roofed building for two weeks in the dead of winter. He wasn’t complaining. It just showed me the character and commitment of his having a job to do, and doing it.

I came to a great realization while shaving one morning. Each day, other soldiers shaving at the same time would look over at me, but say nothing. Then as I stood next to Chris, who also was shaving, I realized I was a wimp. Real men use a real razor; wimps use an electric one. Later, I visualized one of those grizzled sergeants saying to me, “Hey wimpy, civilian boy, what are using there, one of those sissy razors? Real men use a real razor. We don’t even use water. Sure we may bleed a lot, but real men use real razors.” Maybe it does separate the men from the boys.

Iraq is a contradiction in presentation. I was presented with another example after we had done our Sports Byline broadcast, had some dinner and a swim in the Saddam Hussein Palace pool. Earlier daytime gun fire had given way to a quiet, momentarily peaceful night. As I walked from the MWR (Morale, Welfare, Recreational) Palace, the night air was pierced by a loud, shrieking, lyrical voice. My startled surprise gave way to wonderment of its source. MWR officer Dave Rashleigh explained it was the Muslim call to prayers over loudspeakers across city of Mosul. It happens in the morning, at noon and at night. The sound was peaceful and spiritual. A dichotomy and in stark contrast to the history of Iraq under Saddam Hussein, and the explosions, gunfire and death that daily ravage Mosul and the country. As the call to prayers continued, I could only hope that one day a prayer of peace might replace the current anger and destruction. Another day was coming to an end in Mosul Iraq.

What Ever Happened to Revalry? (8.25.05)

Our last day at FOB Courage in Mosul was interesting. I travel a lot and when I need a wake up call I just call the front desk or set the night stand alarm at my hotel. This morning I found a unique way of waking up, a burst of machine gun fire from the guard tower about 30 yards away from my hooch. It certainly got my attention. Of course it could have been the Iraqi Defense Forces that help guard FOB Courage letting off steam or breaking their boredom. No matter what the reason, it still got my attention and I found it a unique way to greet a new day. The only thing missing was having the USA Today delivered to my door. Actually, if it had happened at any other time than the crack of dawn, I would have paid little attention and just considered it another part of the sounds of an Iraqi day. I have found that gunfire, during normal waking hours, is part of life in war time Iraq. As it turned out, this would be an above average day for gun and grenade fire in Mosul.

After doing three days of Sports Byline USA shows from FOB Courage, I finally got used to the many service men and women saying, “thank you for coming and doing your show for us.” At first, it was embarrassing; I felt I should be the one thanking them-- not only for having me-- but for putting their lives on the line. Country singer Toby Keith and I are the only entertainer types to have come to Mosul, so that seems to be the primary reason the troops are appreciative and say so. Col. Brown told me most entertainers are apprehensive about coming to an active combat zone. My philosophy is you could be hit and killed by a New York City cab too, so why not come to Mosul.

Anytime I do Sports Byline away from the safe and comfortable confines of our San Francisco studios it’s like a space walk. Anything can happen, and the unknown makes it dicey to broadcast outside the studios. This effort and environment was the most challenging and interesting in SBUSA’s 17 year broadcast history. First, technically it was challenging, but I won’t bore you with the nerdy details. Let’s just say a lot of smart people worked hard to figure it out and make it happen. At FOB Courage, the smarts, know how, hard work, dedication and caring of a number of servicemen and women made our broadcast setup comfortable, accessible to the troops and as successful as any remote broadcast I’ve ever done. We had an all around, open sided canopy, with fans and lots of water to drink. There were bleachers for the troops to sit and watch, and many did for all three days. Two things made it challenging and very unique. First, the heat of 125 degrees challenged even the best deodorants. Even though it’s dry heat, I sweated profusely, and that combined with dirt and dust everywhere made it hard to focus sometimes. Second, it IS the only time I’ve ever broadcast a show interrupted by gunfire and grenade explosions. Having learned the difference between incoming and out going mortar fire was the difference between a crack sound and a whoosh sound made me pause for just a second mentally each time I heard it. But, all I had to do is look at how much the servicemen and women were enjoying listening to the show, our sports guests and watching our servicemen co-hosts to know it was all worth it, no matter the challenges, hardships or dangers. My goal of bringing our troops a small sense of normalcy, a reminder of life back home and a break from their difficult assignment was realized.

Another thing that impressed the troops were all the big name athletes, coaches and managers (Tony LaRussa, Dusty Baker, Bill Belichick, Cal Ripken, Jr., Joe Nemechek, Bob Costas, Tommy LaSorda, Coach K, Bobby Knight, Phil Jackson, Roger Staubach, Steve Young, Pete Carroll, Senator John McCain) who were guests on our broadcasts. Being able to talk with them, and hear their words and comments of support and well wishes only re-enforced to the troops that they are supported and their efforts are appreciated. For me personally, this was the most satisfying, fulfilling series of broadcasts in my career. The exclamation point came when a soldier said, “Why don’t you stay and do this every day for us.” That statement says it all.

Even though we’ve only been in Mosul for a relatively short time, I knew leaving was going to be emotional. A number of deep friendships had been made in a short time. My Iraq experience had been made even more meaningful by emails I had received from soldier family members who wrote, while I was here, thanking me. Others wrote saying how much they had learned about Iraq and the war, and the human side of the conflict. And, some of the most touching comments and email were from family and friends who had had a chance to hear their sons or husbands on air and it brought them closer to that son or husband and reassured them of their good health and safety.

Climbing back on the Blackhawk helicopters was difficult. I carried a small sense of guilt, that I should stay with these committed men and women and try to make their lives a bit happier and easier with my little distraction. But, we all have our course and purpose in life and mine was to return to San Francisco. I knew when I left that I had one advantage these men and women didn’t have. I knew I would be returning home, God willing, in 10 days. Our Blackhawk lifted off at 4pm for our return to FOB Diamondback and our C-130 flight from Mosul to Kuwait, where we would fly commercially through Frankfurt, Germany back home.

As we lifted off, I looked for the last time at what once was one of the many palaces of Saddam Hussein. I had gone swimming in his pool, walked through his personal palace, through the bombed adjoining palace of his two sons Uday and Suday, and another palace where reportedly Saddam and his sons walked around an elevated deck and looked down on the women below in the courtyard and decided which ones would be their next sexual conquest. We flew over the Tigris River as the sun was starting to set low in the western sky. You could see the heat reverberating off the barren, dry, brown land below. Another of those Iraq contradictions flashed in my mind as I watched our Blackhawk gunner survey the vastness of an empty desert below. At one time, this had been the cradle of civilization, and now it was a country in conflict. As I looked out at the sun, I thought, if one didn’t know, they would wonder if the sun was rising or setting on Iraq. Today, many Iraqis are also wondering the same thing.

Iraq Images (8.26.05)

It’s said that travel is educational and a broadening experience. My trip to Iraq was that, and more. Many things will stay with me forever. Here are some that come to mind.

The searing heat. It was always between 120 and 130 degrees during the day, but the nights cooled to the pleasant high 80's.

How dusty and barren the land was. Combined with the heat, you always felt sticky and dirty.

Soldiers waiting to board C-130s in Kuwait for assignment in Iraq and wearing full battle gear in the searing heat. How young they looked.

Seeing women in full battle gear and carrying M-16s. On duty or off, all soldiers always had their guns by their side.

A soldier sleeping on a cot in a semi air conditioned flight line staging tent with his M-16 lying close by.

Eating my first MRE meal, the military’s version of rations today. Chicken and Pasta, made hot through the magic of something in the pack. Pound cake, crackers and peanut butter. Hmmmm good. Still don’t know what the drink packet was.

Two Chippendale looking loadmasters on our C-130. If women love a man in a uniform, they should see these guys, semi in their uniforms, bulging muscles, and all man.

Sitting in the jump seat in the cockpit of our C-130 and watching the cockpit crew of four work in unison. Pilots flying, and engineer and navigator watching on each side for ground fire. Giving me a pair of NVGs (Night Vision Goggles) so I could watch, as the pilots are, for anything suspicious on the ground below.

A pair of red bikini women’s underwear hanging over the navigator’s seat in the C-130’s cockpit. Getting an email from the navigator’s wife claiming the red bikini underwear and explaining how and why they were there. Don’t ask.

At the motor pool at FOB Diamondback, Lisa, an 88-pound wisp of a woman, lying on a bed of rocks underneath a humvee in 125 degree heat working to get it back into action. It’s her second Iraq tour and she says she’s coming back again.

Sarge at his first comedy concert for the troops saying, “This the first time I’ve played a gig in which a pretty woman had an M-16 and was eating a snowcone” and “it was so hot, my crabs had canteens.” He hit a home run with the troops.

How good the food was, and plentiful. Today’s Army has a salad bar and steak and lobster on Sundays.

Being told that the Stryker Brigade escorts a 10-mile long supply convoy from Turkey to Mosul each night. The 80-mile trip takes between 8 and 16 hours. You do the mph math.

Sitting in an Apache helicopter and thinking, “I couldn’t fly this, but I bet any video game playing whiz kid could.”

Sarge signing a stinger missile on an Apache.

Flying in a Blackhawk to FOB Courage, seeing our gunners with his machine guns pointing earthward and wondering what the hell they were looking for.

Seeing nothing but barren, brown desert and then as we crossed the Tigris River seeing the first green I had seen in Iraq followed by Saddam’s Palace compound. I thought what’s wrong with this picture?

Finally meeting Capt. Duane Limpert and Col. Bob Brown. Limpert looks 18, but isn’t and Brown is a modern day John Wayne. A 6’-7” leader whose men would follow him into any battle.

Seeing the inside of Saddam’s Palace, now the 1-25th Stryker Brigade’s headquarters. The guy lived the good life while his people suffered, and are still doing so. Also, thinking that if they wanted to mortar something, why didn’t they do it when Saddam lived here instead of now.

Saddam’s two sons had a nice Palace too until the American’s dropped a big old bomb into the middle of it. If they were still alive and living there, they would need a big time decorator to redo the place now.

Thank God the military spared Saddam’s swimming pool.

Sgt. Jackson and PFC Neuman, our two escorts. Jackson is one of the smartest and together young men I’ve ever met. Neuman is just like the Seinfeld character. A guy who calls himself a dogface grunt soldier, but always gets the job done.

The Stryker vehicle. Boy would I like to have one of those babies in the traffic in California. God help the person that cuts me off or shows any sign of road rage. Kiss your ass goodbye buddy.

All the soldiers who were at our Sports Byline shows and stayed around afterwards to talk sports and say “thank you” for coming there. It was our honor and pleasure.

Not a mean person in the Army. The only word they knew to us was “Yes.”

And, finally, a war torn country that I hope finds its soul again in a way that allows it to find peace, end the killing and allow our soldiers to return home.

Thank you for the memories. I’m a better person for them.

*Ron Barr is an Emmy award winning writer and the host of the nationally and internationally syndicated sports talk show, Sports Byline USA.

Read Ron's Archived Commentaries | Sports Byline USA HomePage | Listen Live