For one thing, every Marine, soldier, or civilian in Iraq is viewing things through a completely different lens, and enduring completely different risks. Compared to folks sitting on the Kuwait/Iraq border, soldiers at Camp Victory on the outskirts of Baghdad, or any person who never leaves a secure area, my life with the MEF Headquarters Group as an Operations Officer/Convoy Commander at Camp Fallujah is fraught with risk and danger. We usually receive mortar or rocket fire once or twice a night, which is about average for the major bases in our Area Of Responsibility (AOR). Sometimes it lands inside the Camp, usually it doesn't - typically 2-5 rounds. When it's late at night, we sleep through the attacks and find out the next morning. March 20th, the one-year anniversary of the attack, was a pretty heavy night across the area; we had two soldiers killed and six wounded when a building took a direct hit. But to an infantry Marine deployed in the cities of Fallujah, Ramadi, or further west (many of these Marines are engaged with mortar and small arms fire every six hours) my life is basically a piece of cake. Those men - the infantry battalions of 1st Marine Division - are truly "the tip of the spear". I visit with them when they come through here for various reasons. Without getting into the operational details, I can honestly report these Marines are doing a lot of things that simply weren't happening over the past six months. They are taking the risks necessary to give Iraq a fighting chance at success, and they deserve immense praise.

Camp Fallujah - formerly known as FOB St Mere - is about 15 miles east of the city itself. The populace consists of 500,000 people who are pissed off that they're town has become a staging ground for everyone all over the world who wants to pick a fight with Americans (the thought that keeps coming to mind for some reason is how the owners of the Woodstock farm must have felt in 1969). Those who try to find employment with us ? most recently, the barber - are often killed for their loyalty. Those who side with "the insurgency" - a vague and misleading term often used in the press - wind up as the hunted. "The insurgency" involves a plethora of individuals from a number of countries who simply hate Americans. While "the insurgency" possesses a degree of tactical skill, most people of higher rank than me have a difficult time visualizing "the insurgency" as any sort of coordinated political effort (i.e. Viet Cong). It's a bunch of guys who, for numerous motives, plan to continue killing Americans. For some, it's a religious or political motive. For others in the shady Islamic soldier-of-fortune world of arms smuggling and mercenary operations, it's simply good business. Supply is undoubtedly streaming across the border from Syria; regardless of false reports from the State Department about Marines being "confused" about the boundary to make nice politically regarding firefights between Marines and Syrian border guards, the bottom line is Syrians are up to no good. Marines simply don't get "confused" about things like the border between Iraq and Syria.

Unfortunately for the townspeople of Fallujah, it's a lose-lose situation - kind of like folks in Northern Ireland or Israel - who are simply trying to mind their own business and wind up stuck in the midst of two violently opposing wills where no short-term resolution appears possible. It?s truly an irony that Iraqis and Israelis have more in common than either country will ever admit. Most Fallujans blame Americans for their problems and think if we don't leave, their lives will never improve. At the same time, most acknowledge the reality that civil war is possible - even likely - if we depart. Regardless, it's our fault and to some extent, they're right. For American forces, the tricky part is always determining friend from foe. Case in point: Gaswan.

Gaswan is a translator hired by Titan Corporation, a company based...somewhere. He is married, and his only child died before the war from illness. Hired after the war, he worked at Camp Fallujah for the Army. During the transfer of authority, the Army lost his time card and he hadn't been paid. No Titan representative was on base. Gaswan happened upon our CP and vented his frustration. A group of Captains and Gunnys deliberated, took up a collection, and covered his pay as "a gift from the Marines"... the thought process being that we wanted to earn his loyalty, and nobody getting stiffed on wages is partial to "Americans" who are screwing them over... even if it was the Army. Gaswan was visibly touched; now he works with us since we took over Titan's contract (and, yes, there is a Titan representative on base now). However, despite the fact that Gaswan puts his life on the line every day by translating for Americans, none of us would say we "trust" him. Gaswan has one of the best paying jobs available in Iraq, and his loyalty is a function of his desire to survive and prosper. If the conditions changed, he would switch sides in a heartbeat. For all we know, Gaswan might be providing persons out in town with information on the Camp when he leaves on Fridays to visit his wife. We can't monitor his every move. We could force him to stay here 24/7, essentially imprisoning him from his family. Or we could refuse to permit him entry. None of those are practical options; at some point we have to trust, but we have to understand the "trust" can only go so far. Betrayal could be right around the corner, but it's kind of like falling in love... at some point you just have to take a chance on somebody.

I've led four convoys, including a 3-day march up from Kuwait that turned into 4 days. Typically, I go out about once a week. None of my convoys have been hit with an IED or ambush yet, but our unit was about a week ago. Both Marines were wounded, and the quick actions of the corpsman combined with some very good equipment saved their lives. I picture convoys in Iraq as creating similar emotions as air sorties or foot patrols in other conflicts. Those who go out on convoys regularly develop a fraternity within the fraternity. We have call signs: "Snake", "Redneck", "Top Gun", "Log Dog". The call signs are partially for operational security, but just as often wind up becoming a nickname. I'm "Mad Max". Typically, the same individuals stick together in a vehicle team: Cpl "Shady" Stevens is my driver and LCpl "Kid" Montcalm is my radio operator. This develops the same type of unit cohesion infantry units strive for, and the same type of pride. The convoys we "roll" are not combat patrols; they are logistics convoys built to move gear or personnel from Point A to Point B. Still, every individual in a convoy has to have the mindset of a combatant, and the Marines in the Motor Transport platoon - the ones who spend the most time on the road - have the spirit of infantrymen.

Planning for the convoys is a formal, professional affair: order, convoy brief, rehearsals, pep talk, comm checks, test fire weapons, then it's go time. We brief again on the way back, or if any major changes are required at a stop in between. The convoys themselves are chaotic as well, for all sorts of reasons. Although things go basically according to plan, there are always changes and delays for various reasons and one has to be prepared for just about anything. On the last convoy I ran, an Iraqi vehicle on the opposite side of the highway had an accident, the driver was thrown from his vehicle, and a shepherd next to the vehicle was frantically waving his staff. We still aren't sure whether or not it was some type of explosive device or a vehicle malfunction - Marines saw "something white" - smoke? - but felt no boom. Was someone planning to hit us? Was the shepherd's staff
a signal? What we think happened was the vehicle hit a sheep (hence the white), wrecked, and the shepherd was reacting to his loss. There have been a good number of jokes since then about maintaining careful observation for any potential Sheep-Borne IEDs... just in case the enemy really decides to change tactics.

Yes, we joke, but humor is essential to warding off any potential debilitating effects of fear. Another highly under-rated placebo is superstition. The only people more superstitious then men in combat are professional gamblers and baseball players on a hitting streak. Marines carry pictures of girlfriends and wives, wear lucky jewelry, tattoo themselves with lucky symbols, and adorn themselves with all sorts of manifestations of potentially good karma. I personally received a small number of "lucky" trinkets as gifts from friends and family, and I keep them with me wherever I go, but by far my favorite is the Boar's Tooth. The Boar's Tooth -- a scimitar-shaped fragment about four inches long ? was taken off a boar in North Carolina in the late 1930s and was passed to me from a friend who had it in his family since World War II. I was told the Boar's Tooth made it through World War II, Korea, and Vietnam. Apparently, everyone who has ever carried the Boar's Tooth has returned from harm's way alive - not necessarily unscathed, but alive - and, most importantly returned with male-specific "equipment" intact. Cpl Stevens and LCpl Montcalm are big fans of the Boar's Tooth. It remains prominently displayed on all of our convoys.