Getting Iraq To Work

Outside TIKRIT, Iraq

I'm sick of hearing about all the horrible things that happen in Iraq without ever hearing about any of the good ones. That's not because horrible things don't occur here every day; they do. I've witnessed far more death and sadness than I wish anyone ever had to see. And it's not because I believe in some left-wing media conspiracy. If I'm affiliated with a political party at all, I honestly can't remember which one it is.

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Rather, I'm sick of hearing about all the horrible things that happen in Iraq because I've been deployed here for more than 24 months since this war began, and I think I have a story to tell that's heroic, maybe even noble. It's not my story. In fact, I'm quite average, and I'm certainly not noble. But I've been blessed to serve with some amazing officers, noncommissioned officers and soldiers who have sacrificed another 15 months away from their families -- and, for once, produced something that I don't think looks all that bad, even in this desolate country.

Over the last six months, I've served at a large U.S. base in Iraq. My soldiers and I have been responsible for securing the area around the main entrance. We've played a major role in protecting thousands of soldiers and civilians who reside on the base. That's a significant accomplishment in itself, even though it's not sexy, and it has required a lot of discipline and dedication from my troops to do it so well.

But this past summer, we accomplished something else that seems to me almost unequivocally good.

In April, I began working with a group on an initiative that the U.S. government calls the IBIZ. As adept as most of us in the military are at deciphering acronyms that would befuddle the average man, we couldn't figure this one out. I think my first sergeant guessed closest, hypothesizing that it stood for "Iraq's Big-Ass Iguana Zoo." Unfortunately, IBIZ involves no arboreal lizards. It stands for "Iraqi Business and Industrial Zone."

This is an initiative intended to give Iraqi companies better access to U.S. contracts, establish security to let Iraqi companies develop, and train individual Iraqis in skills such as carpentry, plumbing and electrical work. It consists of a contracting office, two Iraqi industrial plants -- one for producing concrete and the other for crushing rock into gravel -- alongside a shipping and receiving yard and a skills training area. It also has the potential to save the U.S. government a significant amount of money by using cheaper Iraqi labor for many jobs usually performed by other contracted foreign nationals.

That's it? you say. That's all we get? Plumbers? Carpenters? I understand your frustration. It's not the stuff of a box-office hit or a gripping novel. But it's heroic. And it's noble, and I'll tell you why.

Every day, soldiers here pull duty in numerous defensive fighting positions or in guard towers, risking their lives for this idea called IBIZ. Our soldiers run the access control and security systems that screen the Iraqis and the thousands of other personnel and vehicles that come through here each week. Or they sit in up-armored Humvees and oversee contractors who construct fences or barriers around the new concrete plant and rock crusher.

And, for once, it really seems to be about Iraqi freedom.

I'm often surprised that many Iraqis still take us seriously. They see the news and listen to us lament the nearly 4,000 U.S. troops who have died while forgetting the far greater tragedy to Iraqis. I have to admit that I was shocked at what I saw when I arrived back here this year for my second tour. If the local electricity, water or sanitation systems had improved, I couldn't tell; meanwhile, the base where I was living had grown threefold and was much cozier than the two smaller bases where I had lived just 20 months earlier.

Several Iraqis I talked to at the time expressed genuine concern about how much better Americans were living in Iraq than Iraqis themselves. But then things started to change. It didn't happen as quickly as I would have liked, but some Iraqis started to see that some things might be improving for them, too.