JimSpiri ”THE LAST LAP #10”

The latest journey called, "The Last Lap" - IRAQ, 2015

July 22, 2015 It is Wednesday, July 22nd around 0800 hrs. I have less than a week left in country according to my pre- arranged schedule. Of course everything is always changeable but for now, things are set on a steady course. It is hot again this morning and the power at the moment is off. It’s been off for quite a while this time and not sure exactly why. Constant electricity flow would improve things in this county a hundred fold I’m sure. The morning started out with one of the vehicles here at the home of my host going on the blink. Turns out the battery had gone belly up. The hot weather takes a toll on such things. I accompanied my hosts brother into town to purchase a battery and the mechanics on the spot put it in. Later that morning one of the guys that had come to the airport with my host to pick me up stopped by and stayed a while. I had been up early working on some writings while at the same time getting things charged up and ready for the upcoming day. While he was here I ended up taking a snooze as I just could not keep my eyes open in the heat of the day. That evening I had coordinated with my host to go into town and be there when the lighting was better to take some photos while I had the opportunity to do so. I always start getting anxious as I see the time in country winding down. There are always things I want to do and so many things that end up taking a back seat. I need to constantly be thankful for what I am able to do rather than worry about what I cannot do. Story of my life again. After an hour or so of photo-shooting in the streets in the late afternoon light, my host and I walked to the home of one of the younger fighters who was quite instrumental in the saving of Dholoyia from ISIS. Once we arrived all greetings were exchanged and I was given water and a cold soft drink to enjoy. The heat was oppressive but the home we were in was pleasant and comfortable. However the power went off as it does all the time and quickly the gathering moved outside in the shade on a lawn. About ten young guys were present by now all were waiting to chat with me. The hookah was in full operation as is the custom in these parts. Everyone young and old does the hookah and it is all part of the social framework of the local society. It is always filled with nice Turkish tobacco and constantly going. I ended up in a circle outside speaking with the local young men who had done a lot of the heavy lifting during the battle for Dholoyia. One in particular who is highly respected whose name is Hamoodi, caught my attention. The others began speaking about the battle that was now exactly one year from the beginning. I quickly took out my small video camera and decided that what I had in front of me was the first line defenders telling me their story and I was here to listen. I did my best to record this dialog as Hamoodi spoke up often. The others were all young guys under his command, however some were closer to his age, a young 27. As is the case in all wars, young men age rapidly and Hamoodi is no exception. I was impressed with his dialog and choice of words to describe the events of the year previous in such a way that I can see that it is still and always will be fresh in his mind as well in the minds of his comrades. I was encircled by a group of young men who were as good or if not better than any other warriors I’ve had the pleasure to be around. They, like all the others just kept talking as I kept listening. I felt this video was a good example for historical archives that I had been seeking to convey the story of this place. Through it, I had found more amazing friends. I wound up the video interview as later we had further commitments to attend to. I had been invited to the home of the nephew of the man whom I had originally met in this village back in 2004. Mohammad, who at this time is not in country but is in India taking care of some education and health situations of family members, made sure I was given an excellent evening at the home of his nephew. My host and I had arranged for transportation and we were shuttled over to the nephew's home. He had remembered me from eleven years previous and coming to his home was a special event this night. He showed me his home and his family and explained to me that since I had been here, he now had his own home and was quite proud of it. I enjoyed the tour of his place and the hospitality was very precious. In some respects, I am treated in “rock star” fashion here and it is difficult to know how to handle such things. But, as always, just being simple and real keeps it all afresh. It was now dark and the food was about to be served. A setting for the entire group present had been laid outside on the lawn. There were at least 20 present for the meal that had been set for me. As is always the case, others from around the neighborhood show up to see me and join me for dinner. It is an honor to be welcomed in such a fashion. One of the guests present was young man who looked very professional and highly educated. He had been quiet for awhile and then at one point opened up to me in perfect English. He is a medical student studying in the country of Georgia in the capital, Tbilisi. He speaks several languages and we conversed at length about a variety of issues. He was not one who was here during the war for Dholoyia. His studies had kept him away, yet he was well versed in the events. I was very impressed with him and startled at his professionalism. While I had him in my presence, I inquired as to my personal infirmaty regarding my rotator cuff. He advised me to get an ultrasound for the bone situation as well as an mri for the soft tissue status. So far, my doctor at home had only done an X-ray and it showed that I’m 59 and have some arthritis issues. I decided immediately that I now had a better diagnosis to pursue and made it a point to follow up upon my return to the states with his suggestions. I thought it ironic once again that I had to come halfway around the globe to get the right course of action for my health issue. While sipping chi after the meal in the dark, outside, I heard a familiar sound in the sky. It was a helicopter and I was absolutely sure it was a Chinook. This was once again more added overhead aircraft activity that was increasing in the past two nights since being here. Before I could say anything the student says to me, “Chinook”! I looked at him and said, “Yep. That’s the noise I know”. That was the first time in a long time I had met someone who knew proper helicopter noise identification like I do. Again, impressed. My host informed me that it was now 9:00 pm and we had another engagement with the director for security for Dholoyia and we must not miss it. That would be with General Diab, a person I’ve met a few times briefly but this night would be more in depth. After saying my goodbyes and shaking everyone’s hands once again, I was on my way out and onto the meeting at hand. It was hard to break away but it was important not to be late. We left and entered the property of General Diab. He was waiting for us and I was once again impressed at the hospitality. General Diab is a man of renowned respect and is 56-years old. He is another former old regime Army officer who was trained specifically in tanks as well as other things in the old regime. One of the folks present at this meeting was one of the younger fighters I had on video earlier with Hamoodi. I have been here now for a couple weeks and during this time those that are of authority have been assessing my intentions here and came to the conclusion that indeed I am an historian and the battle for Dholoyia is of significant historical value as Iraq pushes forward into a new phase of its’ place in the region and the world. It is no secret that all these type of folks were the ones that Paul Bremer had eliminated from what was to become the new Iraq moving forward back in 2003-04. I have written numerous articles about how this move by Bremmer singlehandedly messed up Iraq and is the major reason chaos rules in Iraq now. During this evening meeting with General Diab, I once again put on my rarely used but ever increasingly utilized “thinking cap”. I just had come upon the one man that pretty much designed and orchestrated the saving of Dholoyia with the help of the implementation of it by the very young ones I have been interviewing previously in the day. It needs to noted that most all the folks in the Joubury Tribal sectors of this part of Salah ad-Din province took part in the battle. Many had their normal jobs to do in places like Baghdad during certain days and would return during their time off to do their now “second job” which is the saving of their community from ISIS. Some dropped everything and just battled for seven months. After chi, water, soft drinks, and fruit were brought out for consumption during this meeting, I began to hear in detail the list of events that took place. General Diab is a highly skilled military strategist who was cut off immediately by Bremmer, as were many, many others here in Dholoyia. Our conversation started out with me thanking the General for his time and requesting that he just tell me the story. He is a sober minded man. He is not a light weight. He proceeded to tell me his history and how things evolved. Throughout the conversation I would ask this or that question and he would give me straight up answers. One in particular was the “What did you do after Bremmer cut you off?”. He looked at me and grinned but answered slowly. “I just waited for the past 12-years” he said. “I knew these days would come upon us and they did”. I asked him throughout the conversation if anyone else had been to speak with him about the events of the past year. He told me that one big newspaper from the US called him directly and spoke to him for two hours on the phone but never returned promised replies. He said that absolutely no one had ever come directly to Dholoyia and asked him face to face about things. He was rather appreciative in a military fashion that my sincere interest in this place is noteworthy to say the least. I’ve met a few men with distinctive and perceived power in various walks of life. I knew I was dealing with a man that had been a career soldier and was let loose for political agendas by those who ended up causing a great deal of chaos for this country. I asked him the same question I have asked others in similar positions in the old regime. I asked, “What would have happened when Tommy Franks and others came to his home as well and had offered these members to remain in positions and move forward as long as they cooperated with the invaders”? He explained to me that was never an option that was offered. He did mention that he met with former General Abizaid who was in command of US forces for a while but nothing came to fruition regarding helping the new Iraq move forward with valuable members from the old regime. Now, that is exactly what is needed to happen as the old members who are not getting any younger take up the slack now and teach the younger ones how to defend as a matter of survival rather than just for show. We both looked at one another directly in each others’ eyes and both gave a sigh of frustration as my host translated word for word both our speakings. Here I am face to face with the man who detailed to me all the tactics that were used to save Dholoyia. It was reminded to me once again that had ISIS been able to take Dholoyia, Baghdad would have been a hop, skip and a jump away from being overtaken and things would be even more chaotic than they are now and the loss of lives would have been even more staggering than they already have been. During my time here, I keep seeing how the young begin at an early age to follow in the steps of their elders. Not in a forced kind of religious culture, but rather in a way of family values if one in the West could just look at it in such a manner. I used the example recently in conversation with my host as I watched a 5 or 6 year old eat the evening meal with the other males in the households. They just sit next to one another and follow those around them. I did the same things learning how to just eat a meal in a fashion that is unfamiliar to myself. I don’t have to incorporate it in my own home life but while here I can surely partake and understand and even learn a few things at the same time about youth learning how to mature. I have seen it in almost every aspect of this local society that has to me been a microcosm of the whole view. Everything is done corporately for the good of the whole. The issue or result is nothing less than when the shit does inevitably hit the proverbial fan, it is the youth that know what to do instinctively by those elders who have been here and done this before and now it is time to save the community. This is what I’ve seen first hand during my journey to Dholoyia. I know for sure that nearly no one in the positions of authority in my county in sectors such as the state department and others, really have a clue as to how things operate here in this place and in the other regional areas in the global neighborhood. Too many failures have proven this to me. The current one is case in point. I am sure solving all of these problems at hand is probably much more complex than I care to dig into at the moment. Yet, the simple solutions are for sure being overlooked and I am convinced from my own past experiences in the last couple of decades having dealt with those “officials’ in high places, that something has to be changed in the minds of those making serious and blunderous decisions that affect real people and real families and real communities and of course real nation states. After consuming as much of the fruit and drinks that I could and hearing again details of the victory over ISIS, I was shown some amateur video of how this man, General Dieb led the way in battle first hand. My host had told me from the beginning that this man, a leader, for sure led from the front of the front lines. I saw with my own eyes on the countless videos that everyone took during these times. I watched as the elder showed the younger how to do it, while at the same time educating them on the way to win. All of this was shown to me and all of this was stressed to me that it was done under one flag, the Iraqi national flag. Not a sectarian flag, not a religious flag, not a partisan flag, rather, under one flag. The Iraqi flag. This is something that no one back home actually realizes.