A few nights ago, there was supposed to be a Halloween party at the pool. A big public one, organized by the KBR Morale Welfare and Recreation folks. [Yes, we have contractors to tell us when and how to have fun.]. Then Multi-National Forces-Iraq (our military) sent out an e-mail reminding the troops that they are on Uniform Posture Alpha or something like that. They can't go outside without their vest and helmet, and an official reason to be outside. Military participation was completely banned. Then just about party time, a rocket or mortar hit the Green Zone. Quickly Giant Voice came on and told us that everyone was banned from the pool area. The party was scrubbed.

That's about the state of things in the Green Zone these days. There is nowhere to go, nothing to do, all sorts of crazy rules. When I say crazy, I mean crazy, as in irrational. It makes sense to ban people from the pool area? Fine, but then what does that say to those of us whose trailers are 50 meters from the pool? Or to the troops whose tents are on the other side? We can't be outside having fun but we can be asleep in a tent or a trailer facing precisely the same risk? Another rule restricts our use of cars to get around the Green Zone, requiring us to move in groups and use shuttle buses. Again, it seems smart, until you remember that the recent bombings targeted groups of Americans (just like you have in a shuttle bus), not individual Americans driving in cars.

But enough of the ranting. This is life in a bureaucracy in a war zone, and it's really not that bad. Despite the Green Zone bombs a few weeks ago and the death of one of our security officers in a mortar attack at the airport, we're still working and still moving around the city when we need to see someone.

Yesterday I went with Ambassador Negroponte to see the Mayor. When I say "went with", I mean he flew over in a little helicopter while I went in a convoy of armored Suburbans and Humvees. You know you're in a weird world when they move you across town in a eight-car convoy and still you're jealous because the big boss has a cooler way to travel. This was my first time seeing Negroponte up close in a private setting. He's a cool cat, saying very little, asking open-ended questions and just letting the other guy talk away.

Of course, the state of the city of Baghdad is a little off subject for the Ambassador. All he/we care about these days is the elections. By this I mean our elections, on January 31, not your little election coming up this week. Our focus, at all times and in all conversations, is whether there will be elections here. We have high hopes. The Iraqi Electoral Commission is setting up regional offices, registering candidates, and figuring out who can vote. Polls show that Iraqis think that elections are important and they will be discouraged if the elections are delayed for any reason. The polls also show that most Iraqis don't know exactly for whom they will be voting. [They will vote for a 275-seat Transitional National Assembly, which will elect a President, who will select a Prime Minister who is ratified by the Assembly. You can see why they're a little confused. The Assembly's main job, after selecting the national leaders, will be to write a permanent constitution to replace the Transitional Administrative Law that we enacted when we were in charge. After that is done they will finally be ready to have real elections that aren't transitional or interim.]

Now let's go back to a simpler time, when we could still freely roam the Green Zone. About a month ago, we wandered across the street to Saddam's bunker. Across from 'our' Palace is another huge building that was known as the Republican Guard HQ or something. It is quite in tatters now, having had several really big bombs dropped on it during the war. The interesting feature of this bombed out building is that it was really just a facade, hiding an elaborate bunker underneath. The bunker is about three stories underground. A few flights of stairs takes you through a series of airlock doors into a huge complex with sleeping space for hundreds, fancy kitchens, movie theaters, situation rooms, etc. The place has been pretty well cleaned out - looting is a science in Iraq - but it was obviously ready to maintain a big bunch of Saddam's people for quite a long time. Between the general darkness and the size of the place, I don't have any good photos of the bunker. If you must know what it is like, ask Dick Cheney about his secret undisclosed location.

Another recent Friday, again back in the good old days, I went out touring the Green Zone sights. see pix

Remember that the Green Zone was, while not fenced in Saddam's time, always a special place. In addition to all the key palaces and government headquarters, we have the famous crossed swords parade grounds, the tomb of the unknown soldier, and lots of other minor attractions. The Crossed Swords are huge arches, marking each end of a runway/parade ground where Saddam celebrated his military might. As you walk under the swords, you seem to be walking over a kind of speed bump/rumble strip. It is actually an area where Saddam had Iranian soldiers' helmets buried in the concrete, so that his troops would get to walk back and forth over the top of them.

On the Friday when I took all these photos, we also stopped by one of Saddam's detention/torture centers. I was skeptical that it had such an evil past, but subsequently confirmed that the Iraqi police refused to open a station in the building because it has such evil associations. Oodles of people are desperate to live in the relative safety of the Green Zone, yet no one was living or even sleeping in this little compound.

But no more tours like that. We aren't allowed to be out wandering around, and my fellow intrepid traveler Captain Norris (who kept us safe by carrying his sidearm at all times) finished his tour and went back to the US. I should point out, having mentioned Norris, that my respect for the US military folks has grown during my time here. Like all massive organizations, the Army (and other services, though I work mostly with Army) has its institutional problems and its share of boneheads. In general the soldiers that I work with are smart, well trained, and just as likely to do the right thing as we State Dept people are (take that for what it is worth). This includes both the Civil Affairs troops who work closely with us and the actual fighting troops.

I really take my hat off to the field commanders, people whose names you see in the paper like Col Abrams and General Chiarelli, who are just incredibly smart, politically savvy, and simultaneously able to run combat missions and build peace. Not to make too much of these guys, who are human and may well vote for the wrong guy in the upcoming elections, but it is sobering to think of what their job entails. A the civilian equivalent of a Colonel is a GS-15 or a FS-1, but there aren't many GS-15s who could take on the 24/7 responsibility for the well-being of an entire brigade of troops and still have the patience to sit down with the local neighborhood council to plan reconstruction projects. It is no problem for me to remember to call these guys "sir."

That's enough for this exciting episode of life in my gilded prison.

Oh, there is one more thing to mention. They've just decided that as a reward for being here, I get to spend the next two years in Madrid. There are no specific dates yet, but I should be leaving Baghdad in May, will have a few months of training and vacation, and then will go to Spain in August.

Wish you were here,
rob