A Soldiers Diary: Meet Capt. Dan Sukman, 2nd Brigade of the 101st Airborne Division

Iraq Forum

Thursday, March 09, 2006

Capt. Daniel P. Sukman has wanted to be a soldier his whole life.

The 28-year-old native of Farmingdale, N.Y., says he can't think of a single incident that sparked what would become his life's passion, but he guesses the G.I. Joe action figures he played with as a child didn’t hurt.

Like most real soldiers — as opposed to many of those portrayed on the screen — Dan takes a serious-minded, workaday approach to his occupation. One does not get the sense of brashness or youthful arrogance from meeting him; ditto any tendency toward exaggeration or self-importance.

Dan says that being a soldier is more than a job; it is who he is. After all, he didn't just fall into this life.

After a childhood on Long Island, Dan headed for Vermont to attend Norwich University, the nation's oldest private military college. After four years as a student-soldier, he was commissioned in 2000 as a second lieutenant.

Dan's first assignment was as a platoon leader in South Korea, where he served for 18 months. He was then assigned to Kuwait, where he served as deputy provost marshal for Army Central Command.

Dan was in Kuwait when the United States led the invasion into Iraq on March 20, 2003. Three months later, after President Bush declared the end of major combat operations, he returned to the States to attend the Army Captains Career Course. He simultaneously earned a master's degree in Business and Security Management from Webster University.

Upon completing his coursework Dan was assigned to Fort Campbell, Ky., where he worked as a provost marshal for the 2nd Brigade of the 101st Airborne Division and trained for service in Iraq. By August 2005, Dan was in southern Baghdad.

Dan is the first to admit his life in Iraq is no action film. There are days when he has little to do, when he gets sick of watching DVDs, when he misses his dog. On other days, he sends the soldiers in his command out on dangerous military operations. The very worst days, he says, are when not everyone returns alive.

For readers who don't live near a U.S. military base or personally know anyone serving abroad, it can be difficult to remember this nation is waging a war. Maybe it's that we have trifles like "American Idol" or "Dancing With the Stars" to distract us. Or maybe it's because the lives lost or forever changed by this war are so often drowned out by partisan politics.

Dan Sukman will tell you that none of that stuff matters when you are patrolling a hostile neighborhood in Baghdad or trying to train Iraqi police officers in the hope that they will one day relieve you of your duties. His favorite line from "The Shawshank Redemption" says it all: "Get busy living, or get busy dying."

After a two-week leave in the States, Dan is heading back to Baghdad. Before flying out, he filed his first diary entry for FOXNews.com. In Soldier's Diary, Dan will continue to send us updates on his life in Baghdad, from the mundane to the exhilarating to the heartbreaking.

Thursday, March 09, 2006

By Capt. Dan Sukman

ATLANTA — Editor's note: The following is Capt. Dan Sukman's first entry for his Soldier's Diary. Dan's plane out of Atlanta was delayed at least once; he is now in Kuwait and plans to file his next entry from there.

March 6, 2006

Today is the end of my two-week, mid-tour leave. Right now I am in Atlanta International Airport sipping a Starbucks coffee — my last Starbucks for the next seven months. Two days from now when I'm back in Iraq it will be the same crappy cup of coffee every morning and Green Bean Café Mocha once a week.

My parents dropped me off at LaGuardia Airport this morning at about 6 a.m. The Transportation Safety Administration allows one relative to accompany soldiers to the gate prior to takeoff; it is a privilege soldiers get. So my mother walked with me through the terminal. Mothers always win that coin toss.

As tough as it was to say goodbye to my parents, the toughest goodbye was to my dog before I left the house. I can only assume it is due to all the affection a dog gives its owner.

Being home and seeing friends and relatives and then leaving again for Iraq — I don’t understand how soldiers who are married and have children get through the two weeks' leave. It's almost enough time to go back to normal life, but not quite enough.

The link-up time for soldiers to report in Atlanta International is 1300 hours. I am assuming the flight will not depart for Kuwait until sometime late tonight, but that is expected in our line of work: get to where you're going, then wait around for a while. Atlanta International is filled with soldiers, a lot I recognize from the flight more than two weeks ago from Baghdad and Kuwait.

After about an hour-and-a-half of sitting and listening to my iPod, a representative from the USO approaches me and tells me that I can store my bags with them until the flight. The USO is small and about 30 soldiers are inside waiting with me. It is staffed by members of the VFW — I am guessing they served in WWII or the Korean War. As if they have not already done enough in their lifetime for the country, they continue to serve by helping out soldiers in the current war.

While waiting, we mostly sit around discussing our leave, and take our best guess on when we will get back to Baghdad.

I put in for my leave almost three months ago. Each soldier who is deployed for a year to Iraq is offered the chance for 15 days leave. Add in travel days and it comes out to about three weeks away from work.

The timing for the most part was up to me. We are allowed to take leave anywhere from the second month to the 10th month in theater, so at any given time most units in Iraq are operating with 10 percent of their soldiers on leave.

Getting to New York from Baghdad was a two-day process. Early on the morning of Feb. 16, about 40 soldiers from my brigade met up at Baghdad International Airport for a flight to Kuwait. After turning in our body armor and helmet for storage there, we were taken to the Sato travel agency, which specifically works with military personnel, and were issued our tickets.

Soldiers are offered tickets anywhere in the United States or overseas. I live in Fort Campbell, Ky., but chose to fly to New York, where my family lives. Most soldiers fly home to see their wives, kids and families, and then there are soldiers who go to places like Germany or Hawaii instead.

Once tickets were distributed, we were given our report time for the next morning and a tent to stay in for the night. The next day, we reported at 1300 hours in order to go through customs before the flight at 2230 hours.

When going through customs, all bags are searched and x-rayed. It’s a little frustrating having all our bags searched like that, but they wouldn't be searching bags if no one had ever tried to carry weapons or other illegal items out of Iraq before. Once the searches were over, it was just a matter of waiting for the flight out.

The plane left on time — seven hours to Shannon, Ireland, a two-hour layover, then eight hours to Atlanta. It was a chartered fight with civilian flight attendants but only servicemembers as passengers, so unfortunately no alcohol was served. No drinking in uniform is the policy, and we were all still in uniform and would be until getting home.

Atlanta International Airport is the gateway for all soldiers going on leave, and is where they fly out to their final destination. I had about a 3-hour layover there. While waiting in a restaurant, a family invited me over and paid for my breakfast. It was a very nice gesture and a great way to start leave.

Finally getting to New York was great. My parents met me at the airport and even brought my dog, which my mother has been looking after.

The first week of leave was relaxing, and the best part was just not being in Iraq. It was a little strange because life moves a lot slower over here. Just waking up in the morning and not having to get a slide ready for a briefing or not having 15 e-mails in my inbox was a nice break. But I knew that by the end of the week, I would be ready to get back to work.

E-mail Dan at soldiersdiary@gmail.com

Friday, March 10, 2006

By Capt. Dan Sukman


March 7, 2006
1230 hours
Atlanta

My bet on takeoff time was 2230 hours, and I was a day off. We took off from Atlanta at about 1930 hours, and landed back in Atlanta at 2130 hours. The pilot had to dump 20,000 gallons of fuel and turn back. I don’t know the exact problem with the aircraft, only that there was no way we could have made it to the halfway point in Ireland.

After landing we deplaned and waited to hear whether we would take off that night. Half past midnight the call came in that we would spend the night in a hotel.

Half the 300 soldiers on the plane were taken to a Holiday Inn while the other half, including me, crashed at the Royal Plaza. The airline covered us for the rooms and breakfast.

One thing about being a soldier is our ability to relate to any other soldier. Meet another soldier at a bar, restaurant or coffee shop, and you have at least two hours of conversation. “Where are you from? What unit are you with? Do you know so-and-so?”

I used up most of this conversation in the 12 hours we spent at the airport yesterday. Now, most of the soldiers flying back with me are much quieter as we wait for our flight to take off, hopefully on time today.


March 8, 2006
0500 hours
Hahn, Germany

Our flight finally took off last night at 1900 hours. The plane that was forced to turn around was deemed unsafe for flight, so we were put on a plane with another group of soldiers. The flight was completely full, not one empty seat. The airline was OMNI Airlines, which I am convinced is only one step above ACME Airlines.

Normally flights flying to and from Kuwait stop somewhere in Europe to refuel and change crews. Our plane stopped in Germany. It was only a two-hour stop, but enough time to get off the plane and stretch out for a bit.


March 9, 2006
0100 hours
Ali Al Salem Air Base, Kuwait

Our flight to Kuwait arrived at 2200 hours. All told, it was about 16 hours of travel to Kuwait including the two-hour layover in Germany. We hopped on buses to Ali Al Salem Air Base where we got our body armor and helmets back. After a shower and shave, I am now waiting in a tent to find out when my flight to Baghdad will be.

Just waiting around I have had some time to think about the whole leave experience. Getting 15 days off really makes a difference. Some rest and getting to recharge the batteries is something every soldier on a year deployment should take advantage of, and I believe most do. Talking to other soldiers on the plane, I only heard them wish that leave was longer.

My parents asked me what I miss most when I'm in Iraq. My answer to that is being able to go to a bar and chat it up with a pretty woman.

With the exception of soldiers married to other soldiers who are both in Iraq, all soldiers are either married with spouses back home or single. I am in the latter category. Soldiers in Iraq fall under General Order No. 1, which forbids relationships of an intimate nature while on deployment status. Essentially, for an entire year, we live the life of monks.

E-mail Dan at soldiersdiary@gmail.com

Hawk, I think this might be more on topic in Politics & Government > Military Matters. Thoughts?

-HECK!

It's all about a soldier's experiences in Iraq, in near real time. I thought it very interesting and pertinent.

Sounds good.

-HECK!

Friday, March 17, 2006

By Capt. Dan Sukman


March 14, 2006
2230 hours

Nothing too special to report today. It's Tuesday, and for some reason I have always hated Tuesdays. Maybe it’s because Mondays are always filled with everyone’s weekend stories and by Tuesday it’s just another day of work. Either way, this is a good opportunity to talk about our living accommodations.

Routine days normally start at about 0600 to 0630 hours waking up in the tent. The tents we sleep in are not camping tents per se; rather, they are large 20-man tents on a concrete pad with air conditioning/heaters in each corner. There are only eight of us in my tent, all junior officers (captains and lieutenants), so there is plenty of room.

The tent is also covered by a tarp for the rainy season, and definitely comes in handy when the rains come. We have lived in the tents for about six months but are scheduled to move into two-person trailers within the next week or so.

Life in the tent is not too bad. Thankfully, none of us snore. The sound of aircraft outside can get loud, but most nights we are all too tired to notice. We do not spend much time in there other than to sleep.

One of the officers in my tent is Capt. Robert Shaffer. Among the staff he is probably my best friend. Rob is our brigade engineer and has tons of responsibility, from construction projects that improve both soldiers' and Iraqis' standards of living to planning routes of travel for units in the brigade. He has done a tremendous job over the past six months, and has probably played a part in saving numerous lives with his attention to detail in the planning process.

Rob graduated with an engineering degree, and followed college with an assignment to the engineer branch of the U.S. Army. He was commissioned in 1999 and so has been in the Army about a year longer than me. His first assignment was to Germany where he, like so many of the soldiers assigned there, deployed to Kosovo. He was in the theater of operations during Operation Iraqi Freedom I for four months and once again finds himself here for this rotation.

Rob has a lovely wife and a daughter and son. His son was born about a month ago, while he was here in Iraq performing his job like he does every day. It was probably the happiest I have ever seen him. He walked office to office handing out “It’s a Boy” cigars, and for those who don’t enjoy a cigar, he had candy cigars to distribute. If you don’t think a year is a long time, talk to someone who missed the birth of his firstborn son and his daughter's first steps. If you still don’t believe it, I've got some shares of Enron to sell you.

Rob and I are lucky because we both have an office to work in where we have pictures of our family posted on the walls. Soldiers who don't have offices and spend most of their time on patrol carry family pictures in their patrol caps, helmets, wallet or on the dashboard of their HMMWV (high-mobility multipurpose wheeled vehicle), just like generations of soldiers before them. In war, some things never change.


March 17, 2006
0600 hours

Nothing significant to report over the past couple days, as we say in our briefings, but I have a couple of minutes this morning. We have TVs in our dining facility, and last night we saw on the news the large operation going with the 3rd Brigade of the 101st Airborne Division. They are a spot-on unit with a tremendous reputation, and I am sure they will be successful in this mission.

We got some good things happening this weekend. Our new TMC (troop medical clinic) will be opening this afternoon. The TMC is like a small emergency room, and provides the latest in medical care to soldiers living on FOB Striker. It's a good-news story and represents the culmination of a lot of hard work.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day.

FOX NEWS.... it says a lot

Thursday , March 23, 2006

By Capt. Dan Sukman


March 21, 2006
2335 hours

For the past couple days the remainder of our unit moved out of their tents and into new trailers. Our new accommodations are small, two-person trailers, about 12 ft. by 12 ft., but they certainly beat living inside a tent.

The trailers are similar to the tents in one respect — most of us won't spend much time in them. Still, I am lucky to be able to sleep in here most nights, compared to the many soldiers in our brigade who are spending tonight at a checkpoint or patrol base without the comforts of air conditioning or a mattress. They are using slit trenches for bathrooms rather than the Porta-Johns and shower trailers we have, and they sure as heck don’t have access to laptops to write their journals in.


March 22, 2006
2300 hours

I am writing this entry having caught up on about half the work I've missed today. The large part of today was spent in a meeting with one of our units, the Iraqi army and the Iraqi police.

There were no cameras at this meeting, which is one of many that we go to on a daily basis. As a staff officer, meetings occupy a good percentage of my time. At every level in the Army, meetings are necessary to plan and accomplish missions, but meetings like these are a little bit different than most.

The meeting with our Iraqi counterparts lasts nearly four hours. The fact that it consumes a large portion of our time is not unusual. When planning out our day, for anything that involves a meeting or discussion with an Iraqi we double the amount of time we'd expect it to last with an American.

This is not because of some strange custom, but because every word spoken is spoken twice. Imagine having each word of a conversation in a board meeting or a chat with a friend repeated. It takes a lot of patience from both the U.S. and Iraqi soldiers, and is a credit to them and the many translators who work for us.

Sometimes the daily meetings are with Iraqis, other times they are internal meetings. It’s not the same as charging a hill — the only fight going on is between you and your bladder. But getting our forces, the Iraqi army and the Iraqi police on the same sheet of music, so we all understand what we are doing, is vital to securing Iraq. Every word spoken (and spoken twice) at these meetings is another small step toward the goal of turning this country over to the Iraqis.

Helping the Iraqi police become capable of performing on their own is a mission that will not be completed overnight. As I said in my last entry, our leaders have figured out we are not killing our way out of this war, and that the Iraqi police and army are the key to us finishing this fight and coming home from Iraq for good.

It's helpful to compare how we are training the Iraqi police here to how we train our police at home. Think for a moment about the training required to become a state trooper in Vermont (I say Vermont because I watched "Super Troopers" last week). The state trooper goes through an academy for a number of months then off to a station where their training continues. It’s an intense, lengthy process, and Vermont's trooper-trainees do not have to fight an insurgency at the same time.

We are producing dedicated Iraqi forces. Are they NYPD cops with 20 years on the job? Of course not. But they are improving every day.


E-mail Dan at soldiersdiary@gmail.com

I wish I had saved all the conversations with my son when he was in Iraq.
He worked directly with selecting and training Iraqi civilians for a year. He had a great viewpoint of the civilian side of things in Iraq. Unfortunatley I didn't keep them as our daily conversations were through Instant Messanger.

He has been home for a year now and is really pissed at the media coverage of Iraq. He won't watch very much of it because of the bias he sees. Of the 18 provinces in Iraq, there are 3 with major fighting, the others are for the most part, free of the violent attacks and have returned to everyday life with improved communication, water, sewer, schools and police. What we see are the 3 provinces and it is not a reflection of Iraq as a whole.

USA1, I didn't know you had a son who served in Iraq. I am glad he is home safe.


-HECK!

Monday , March 27, 2006

By Capt. Dan Sukman


March 25, 2006
2115 hours

I will explain those four numbers in the headline momentarily. First I want to describe how we spend some of our free time here.

One way a number of soldiers spend their downtime is by watching movies on their laptop. Sometimes it is a crowd gathered around one computer trying to hear despite a lousy speaker system. Other times it’s a staff officer taking a break in his office, watching bits and pieces of a movie over a couple of days until he or she finishes the flick.

Almost all soldiers enjoy watching war movies, and I am no different. My favorite war movie is "Rocky IV." Yes, you read that correctly. Most people would argue that all the Rocky films are sports movies, not war movies. I disagree.

Most sports fans like to argue that one of the biggest battles of the Cold War occurred in 1980 on an ice rink in Lake Placid, N.Y. That was when the U.S. Olympic hockey team defeated the Soviet Union 4-3, in what some would say was the catalyst for the eventual demise of the Evil Empire. Up until 1985, an event of this magnitude was not seen on the big screens of Hollywood. This all changed when Rocky Balboa defeated Ivan Drago by knockout in 15 rounds.

If a hockey game can be considered a victory in the Cold War, "Rocky IV" counts as a war movie. When you include "Victory," in which Sylvester Stallone helped defeat the Nazis, he is the greatest hero of the 20th century.

Three hundred and sixty-five is the number of days soldiers are deployed to Iraq. Many soldiers have completed their 365 more than once. Seventy-five is the number of Iraqi police recruits our unit, in conjunction with a military police company from Fort Bragg, N.C., took up to the Baghdad Police Academy for their entrance exams. Nineteen is the number of recruits who passed all the testing and were allowed to start training with the next class.

The 21st MP Company is the unit that works with the Iraqi police in our sector, training them on the ground Monday through Sunday. Today they worked with our transportation unit and the Iraqi police to get the recruits up to the academy to be trained. For the soldiers on this mission, the day started at about 0100 hours and did not end until about 2000 hours, after having worked “normal hours” the day before.

We dropped off the recruits at the academy early in the day, then waited until the testing was complete before heading back to base. Once again, like so many other days, we all had some downtime to kill. No matter what our jobs are, all soldiers think about and often discuss what we would be doing if we were not in Iraq — watching TV, drinking a beer, taking college classes, kissing our spouse, playing with our children, going to a ball game, arguing the merits of "Rocky IV" being a war movie.

But days like that don’t belong to soldiers over here. Days of spending time with our wife or playing with our dog are owned by someone else. For 365 days, soldiers are working hard, for long hours. Today, soldiers of the 21st MP Company and the transportation company within our brigade worked almost 12 hours straight, before they even had lunch.

In the days prior to this mission, some soldiers arranged for the entrance exam testing and others fixed the trucks to transport the recruits. Some soldiers guarded the base where the mechanics fixed the trucks, and other soldiers were out on patrol or at a checkpoint searching for the enemy, while still others worked in a field hospital caring for a soldier who caught some shrapnel in his leg from an IED.

A lot of time and effort went into the mission to take the Iraqi police recruits up for testing. Of the 75 that came up with us only 19 passed, but all the effort was worth it. There will be 19 more policemen on the streets of Iraq sometime soon.

You will never see these soldiers in a headline. The staffs coordinating testing, the mechanics working on trucks and soldiers driving 75 Iraqis to take a written exam will never be breaking news, but they are important in this war.

Thirty is the number of recruits who lasted five minutes in the exam. Thirty is the number of recruits who could not read or write, or fill out the forms to even start the process. Thirty out of 75, that’s 40 percent. I can understand the argument that some problems in Iraq were the result of us coming here, damaging infrastructure and such. I may disagree, but I can understand it.

I will never, however, accept that 30 of 75 Iraqi police recruits being unable to read or write is the fault of any soldier. Everyone should be required to see the palaces that Saddam and his cronies lived in and THEN talk with the 30 recruits who could not read or write. Forget schools in Iraq; Saddam needed another palace made completely of marble and gold. Never tell me that soldiers helping Iraqis build a school is not a strategy for victory in this country. Thirty — these guys never had a chance.

Seventy-five, 30, 19: those are the numbers of Iraqis that, despite all they had going against them, want to give us our 365 back.

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Capt. Sukman with an Iraqi interpreter.

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Capt. Sukman with fellow "screaming eagle."

March 29, 2006
1600 hours

Before I begin this entry, I need to address a fact that was brought to my attention. I once mentioned how Tuesdays have always bothered me. A fellow officer recently reminded me about Fat Tuesday. He is absolutely correct, which just goes to prove that there is an exception to every rule.

I caught some of the news on TV in the chow hall this morning. We really don’t watch much TV here, and as I said in the last entry we mostly watch movies via DVD. TVs are located in the chow hall and the gym, and for most of us, the few minutes we spend in the chow hall is about all the TV we see. I think most of us prefer it that way.

Anyone who has lived overseas is probably familiar with AFN, the Armed Forces Network, although a good many of us refer to it as A Lot of Freakin' Nothing. (Some use a stronger word.) AFN has three stations: sports, news and movies. The shows are up to date, and thanks to the commercials AFN broadcasts I have memorized every Medal of Honor winner since the Civil War and numerous obscure facts about all 50 states.

While watching the news at breakfast, I was joined by a couple other officers on our staff. One of the topics of conversation was another dreaded meeting we have scheduled today. It’s a planning meeting to go over some of the operations we will be conducting over the next few months. I will not discuss the operations, but I want to talk about the soldier who leads most of our planning meetings.

Maj. Graham Shannon is our brigade planner. He is responsible for planning all future operations. It is an incredibly detail-oriented and tedious job, often requiring long hours in the office thinking up different courses of action or ensuring his Power Point slides are just right. With all due respect to those I work for and with, he is without a doubt the best officer I have ever served with. And by the way, he’s a British officer from the Royal Irish Regiment of the British Army.

Graham has been with our brigade for about a year-and-a-half and with us on the deployment since Day One. He played a large role in planning all the training conducted prior to deployment, during the deployment to Baghdad, the operations here and he has even started planning our deployment home.

Throughout, he has brought to the fight all of his knowledge gained from the British Army. When you think about all the places the British have been, it’s easy to see how well he understands counterinsurgency operations. I guess that’s why British food is so bad; they've been too busy learning how to combat terrorism over the years.

Graham is with our brigade because of a unique relationship our unit has with the British Army. He is actually from Ireland, and as I stated earlier, a member of the Royal Irish Regiment of the British Army. When he finishes his tour with us, he will be replaced by another British soldier. The only frustrating part about working with him is when I read his e-mails, the little voice inside my head reads them with an Irish accent.

Soldiers, no matter where they are from, are alike in many ways. Just because Graham's a Brit does not mean he misses his family less than any other American soldier. Just like Rob, whom I talked about in a previous column, Graham has a young daughter, plus a lovely wife who is nine months pregnant. And just like all U.S. servicemembers here, you will never hear one complaint come from him.

Just like friends in any other profession, we all anxiously await pictures of a soon-to-be born son.

E-mail Dan at soldiersdiary@gmail.com.

http://www.foxnews.com/images/195500/0_21_030806_sukmangoggles.jpg

Just something I'd like to understand - why this diary being posted here ? I mean - people interested can browse and follow it on the dedicated website. In this condition, we don't need it to be posted back here. Oh yes - I forgot ... except if you are (self) appointed to work the site for propaganda and deceit. Isn't it, Curley Joe / Desert Hawk ?

By Capt. Dan Sukman

April 2, 2006

A number of people have asked what it is we value most here. I had this conversation recently with Sgt. Jason Davis, one of the NCOs (non-commissioned officers) with whom I work.

Sgt. Davis, like so many soldiers living in Baghdad, was here about three years ago when we first started Operation Iraqi Freedom I. Right now, he is halfway through his second year in Iraq.

An artillery observer by trade, Sgt. Davis has completed his obligation to the Army but is here under the "stop loss" program. He will never complain or even mention his feelings on it. He works hard day in and day out, performing his mission and looking out for his soldiers.

Below is what he had to say on what he values the most here. It describes the one thing that I think all soldiers value.

“I’m living the life right now. Some might even say luxurious. TV, PS2, porcelain toilets, dining facility, Internet, 24-hour phone center, PX [post exchange] and free laundry service. These are all amenities enjoyed by most in my brigade.

"Certainly, they are appreciated, and never taken for granted. Some of us still live in tents, on cots, or spend a large amount of time 'outside the wire' before returning to the FOB [forward operating base]. Some of us have a two-man trailer with electricity and heating/AC combo unit, a bed with mattress and a lockable door. With all this, what more can one ask for in this environment?"

I’ve received several “Dear Soldier” boxes, or care packages from distant and unheard of relatives, church friends, even my neighbor’s dog, Mindy. It’s a nice gesture, and I politely return a handwritten letter thanking each individual personally.

Now, I don’t mean to sound unappreciative — I enjoy receiving as much as they enjoy giving, and if they can find it in their hearts and wallets to think of me, then I’ll most certainly find it in mine to enjoy the packages. But to be honest, there is only one thing I need. I mean, really, really need.

So, what could be more important than Halo tournaments and "Desperate Housewives" marathons? A clean, soil-free shower drain.

It makes no difference to me where I sleep, what I eat or how I spend my downtime as long as I have a clean shower with a curtain, scalding hot water and an unclogged drain. Everything else is just icing.

Nowhere else on the FOB am I really, truly alone. Sure, most of the time there are at least three to four other occupants around you in the curtained stalls, but that can be forgotten and put aside. A clean shower is the true measure of how well you are taken care of.

In early April 2003, after personally walking every square inch of the southern Iraqi cities of Kufa, Najaf and Karbala, just south of Baghdad, my infantry company was settling down for a couple days rest at an abandoned Iraqi Air Force base. After nearly five weeks of continuous combat patrols with very little food and water (one MRE and one canteen of water a day), we were refit with some downtime prior to entering Baghdad.

One day, a water truck was hired to “bathe” us. My entire company was allotted 10 minutes to bathe before the truck moved on to another company in the battalion. One can imagine 200 dirty, nasty, smelly, floppin’ Joes hanging around this truck, buck-naked and pale white, showering under an umbrella stream of liquid purification.

Everyone but me.

For five weeks I walked nearly 12 hours a day. I rotated sweat-soaked socks and T-shirts every other week, but I did not shower under the fire hose of that truck. Disgusting, I know, but I just couldn’t do it. What’s the point of showering just to throw on your same old dirty clothes anyway? My prissy attitude toward personal hygiene and the fact that I carried my own pair of Revlon tweezers led others to nickname me “Princess.”

Later that deployment, some companions turned a tiled bathroom into a shower, using a 10-gallon tank from a commercial coffee dispenser as a water heater.

E-mail Dan at soldiersdiary@gmail.com

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By Capt. Dan Sukman

April 5, 2006

"Having done a tour in Vietnam in '70 and then having read various accounts of the war in the memoirs of generals, State Department officers, combat officers and the little guys, it's sometimes difficult to respond to the old adage that 'truth is a perception.' It's not that everyone had a different opinion. They did, and that's understandable. What amazed me is that everyone fought in a different world.

"Assuming that reality can be observed and reported, I am curious about your insights about which level of observation offers the clearest picture of Iraq: the combat soldier, the tactical planner, the strategic group, the 'pacification effort,' working with the people, third parties coming in and not being affected by the experiences of the locals, or just someone with a head on his shoulders."

— John C.


That e-mail hit the nail on the head. The perceptions and realities of war vary for soldiers at all different levels. I will begin my explanation with a story from my Officer Basic Course (OBC).

About halfway through a field exercise during OBC, our platoon had taken up a defensive position establishing a 360-degree perimeter. One of the factors in deciding where to establish a fighting position is to look at what we call “fields of fire,” or how far you can clearly see in front of you. I took up what I thought was the perfect fighting position: I had a great view of the area to my front and I could see the enemy coming from almost a mile away.

One of my instructors walked up to me and asked why I had chosen that piece of ground to defend. I proudly showed him the field of fire to my front and how it was easily defendable.

“Dan, I see your point, but I want you to get down in the prone, just like you are firing your weapon,” he said.

I laid down, looked to my front, and realized I could not see a thing. The grass in front of me was about a foot tall, and the trees to my left and right obscured my view. Lesson learned. The war at six inches is completely different than the war at six feet.

How can so many people have a different view of this war? Some say it is successful, some say we are failing, some say everything in between. The war to the infantryman on the line in south Baghdad is completely different than the war to an infantryman in Mosul, which is much different than the war to a soldier standing guard at division headquarters. And none of them see what a brigade staff officer in Tikrit sees, nor does that brigade staff officer see the same war as a company commander in Tal Afar.

It is difficult to explain, but every soldier has their role and their six-inch fight. The fight may be kicking in doors to find the enemy, it may be training Iraqi forces, it may be coordinating visits with local Iraqis, it may even be working in a motorpool and fixing trucks for a year. Despite all these different jobs and positions, we all get asked the same question when we are home and at a bar for a drink: “Did you kill anyone over there?”

My six inches is southern Baghdad. Our section of the city saw more than 115,000 citizens vote in the last election, roughly 115,000 more than voted the previous year. My six inches has seen a tremendous amount of progress over the last seven months, albeit with some steps to the rear (more than 30 soldiers killed in my unit). Another soldier's six inches may see a lot of progress; another's may see nothing but turmoil.

How the view from six feet looks, most of us don’t really care. You just have to ask yourself where your view is from. Is your six feet from what you see on the news, read in newspapers or hear from your friends? Or is your six feet a view put together from the soldiers at six inches?

John C. asked how so many people at all different levels can have such different senses of reality. The soldier who has lost everyone in his team to an IED might see this war as a complete failure. The leaders at the top might look at those casualties as a small step back, with giant leaps being made every day. The catch-22 is that both views are correct.

In the same mold, soldiers working with Iraqis in one part of the country may feel nothing but complete frustration, while soldiers elsewhere may just need to step back as Iraqis take the lead. Same mission, different results, different perceptions of success.

So who has the best view of what is going on? I would have to say commanders. Commanders receive input from their staffs, and higher-level staffs rely on commanders' sense of what is going on in their sector. From the company level on up, commanders — as long as they are receiving accurate information — have the clearest picture of this war.

E-mail Captain Dan at soldiersdiary@gmail.com