Informants
On a foot patrol through Aziz Balad soldiers from the 1-8 Infantry Regiment make an unexpected discovery. An old man shouting and waving a broom handle over his head rushes towards Staff Sergeant Blackwell. Blackwell doesn’t understand Arabic so he sits down on a nearby concrete barrier and nods as the old man continues yelling and making wild gesticulations.
Eventually the interpreter catches up. The old man claims to know where several insurgents live. He even produces a handwritten list of people who he claims have been involved in mortar attacks against Balad and US military bases.
Thinking that the old man will want to point out the insurgents’ houses from the safety and anonymity of a humvee, Sergeant First Class Tony Thurman radios for the humvees to rejoin the foot patrol. Before Thurman can finish the transmission, the old man starts marching towards the insurgent homes bellowing that he doesn’t need to hide.
At first everyone takes this as the bravado of an old man who has nothing left to lose and fall in behind him. As the old man zigzags through the middle of the street, still shouting and waving his broomstick, the soldiers become skeptical. Finally they stop when locals start laughing at the procession or pointing to the man gesturing that he’s crazy.
Thurman asks a well-dressed Iraqi man standing with his family about the old man. While the well-dressed Iraqi explains that the old man completely lost his mind years ago, the old man waves down cars with his broom handle, demanding to search them, and calling unwilling motorists terrorists.
The patrol is over. Waiting for the vehicles Private First Class Chris Robertson and Blackwell buy candy and cigarettes from the well-dressed man’s shop and watch the old man stop traffic. Eventually he wanders off claiming to be the sheikh in control of the entire Salah al-Din Province.
Informants generally aren’t that forthcoming nor does working with them produce such an absurd atmosphere. Guards caught a boy trying to break into FOB Paliwoda. According to the boy, he’d been paid to sneak onto the FOB, but once in custody he agreed to share information about several wanted insurgents. Lieutenant Brad Rudy and his platoon were tasked with taking out the informant to identify the insurgents’ homes.
The informant rides in the back of Lt. Rudy’s humvee with the interpreter. Guiding the humvees on a winding route through several small villages he tries to find the houses. Finally the convoy arrives at a grouping of homes supposedly belonging to a wanted insurgent.
The informant remains in the humvee while soldiers raid the house. No one but several women are home so they move to the next house, again discover only women and an old man. Unable to find anything, the soldiers return to the humvee to re-question the informant. As Lt. Rudy and an intelligence officer interrogate the informant frustration mounts among the soldiers.
Spc. Harold, known as Hollywood Harold for his constant self-aggrandizement, watches over the old man who they’ve made sit outside the house until they’ve finished the search. Hollywood Harold, currently on his second tour in Iraq, is one of the few soldiers with a command of Arabic. While he’s not quite proficient, he’s able to ask all of the standard questions soldiers usually need answered. During the search he asked where the men were, and told people to leave the house and sit down.
Now the old man fumbles with his cigarette pack, but finds it’s empty. He tries to ask Hollywood Harold if he can get a new pack, but Hollywood Harold either doesn’t understand or doesn’t care. He raises his middle finger, asking the man in Arabic if he understands the gesture. The old man shrugs and signals his wife to get him some cigarettes.
It turns out that the informant took the men to the insurgent’s family home, not the house where he actually stays. The house where the insurgent would have been is about a hundred meters down the road. A boy ran towards the house as soon as the Americans arrived, Lt. Rudy and the others believe he probably warned the insurgent. By now the soldiers assume the insurgent has probably fled. Surrounded by orchards and farmland it’s doubtful they’ll find anyone.
A search of the insurgent’s brother’s house ends up being fruitless as well. Like all the other houses in the area only women are home. They find old teacher’s papers with the Ba’athist regime logo, a picture of Saddam Hussein in an unused desk, and a brand new, unfired AK-47, but nothing incriminating.
Unable to provide any more information, they decide to release the informant. Throughout the ride to the drop off point the informant asks for something to eat, at one point trying to take Hollywood Harold’s sticky bun without asking. Hollywood Harold ignores or rejects him until they reach the drop off. “Here you go, asshole,” says Hollywood Harold throwing the boy a sticky bun and a bottle of water. The boy smiles and waves as the humvee drives away.
On a foot patrol through Aziz Balad soldiers from the 1-8 Infantry Regiment make an unexpected discovery. An old man shouting and waving a broom handle over his head rushes towards Staff Sergeant Blackwell. Blackwell doesn’t understand Arabic so he sits down on a nearby concrete barrier and nods as the old man continues yelling and making wild gesticulations.
Eventually the interpreter catches up. The old man claims to know where several insurgents live. He even produces a handwritten list of people who he claims have been involved in mortar attacks against Balad and US military bases.
Thinking that the old man will want to point out the insurgents’ houses from the safety and anonymity of a humvee, Sergeant First Class Tony Thurman radios for the humvees to rejoin the foot patrol. Before Thurman can finish the transmission, the old man starts marching towards the insurgent homes bellowing that he doesn’t need to hide.
At first everyone takes this as the bravado of an old man who has nothing left to lose and fall in behind him. As the old man zigzags through the middle of the street, still shouting and waving his broomstick, the soldiers become skeptical. Finally they stop when locals start laughing at the procession or pointing to the man gesturing that he’s crazy.
Thurman asks a well-dressed Iraqi man standing with his family about the old man. While the well-dressed Iraqi explains that the old man completely lost his mind years ago, the old man waves down cars with his broom handle, demanding to search them, and calling unwilling motorists terrorists.
The patrol is over. Waiting for the vehicles Private First Class Chris Robertson and Blackwell buy candy and cigarettes from the well-dressed man’s shop and watch the old man stop traffic. Eventually he wanders off claiming to be the sheikh in control of the entire Salah al-Din Province.
Informants generally aren’t that forthcoming nor does working with them produce such an absurd atmosphere. Guards caught a boy trying to break into FOB Paliwoda. According to the boy, he’d been paid to sneak onto the FOB, but once in custody he agreed to share information about several wanted insurgents. Lieutenant Brad Rudy and his platoon were tasked with taking out the informant to identify the insurgents’ homes.
The informant rides in the back of Lt. Rudy’s humvee with the interpreter. Guiding the humvees on a winding route through several small villages he tries to find the houses. Finally the convoy arrives at a grouping of homes supposedly belonging to a wanted insurgent.
The informant remains in the humvee while soldiers raid the house. No one but several women are home so they move to the next house, again discover only women and an old man. Unable to find anything, the soldiers return to the humvee to re-question the informant. As Lt. Rudy and an intelligence officer interrogate the informant frustration mounts among the soldiers.
Spc. Harold, known as Hollywood Harold for his constant self-aggrandizement, watches over the old man who they’ve made sit outside the house until they’ve finished the search. Hollywood Harold, currently on his second tour in Iraq, is one of the few soldiers with a command of Arabic. While he’s not quite proficient, he’s able to ask all of the standard questions soldiers usually need answered. During the search he asked where the men were, and told people to leave the house and sit down.
Now the old man fumbles with his cigarette pack, but finds it’s empty. He tries to ask Hollywood Harold if he can get a new pack, but Hollywood Harold either doesn’t understand or doesn’t care. He raises his middle finger, asking the man in Arabic if he understands the gesture. The old man shrugs and signals his wife to get him some cigarettes.
It turns out that the informant took the men to the insurgent’s family home, not the house where he actually stays. The house where the insurgent would have been is about a hundred meters down the road. A boy ran towards the house as soon as the Americans arrived, Lt. Rudy and the others believe he probably warned the insurgent. By now the soldiers assume the insurgent has probably fled. Surrounded by orchards and farmland it’s doubtful they’ll find anyone.
A search of the insurgent’s brother’s house ends up being fruitless as well. Like all the other houses in the area only women are home. They find old teacher’s papers with the Ba’athist regime logo, a picture of Saddam Hussein in an unused desk, and a brand new, unfired AK-47, but nothing incriminating.
Unable to provide any more information, they decide to release the informant. Throughout the ride to the drop off point the informant asks for something to eat, at one point trying to take Hollywood Harold’s sticky bun without asking. Hollywood Harold ignores or rejects him until they reach the drop off. “Here you go, asshole,” says Hollywood Harold throwing the boy a sticky bun and a bottle of water. The boy smiles and waves as the humvee drives away.
posted by Tom | 5:15 AM
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