As the Forward Commander, I had to fly North to Iraq a week ahead of the Convoy to ready the arrival for the main body. I coordinated with the Air Force for thirty-five of us to travel via C-130 from Kuwait to Iraq. The majority of the Air Force flights at that time were being conducted at night in the hopes that the Iraqi’s were not in possession of any sophisticated weapons systems. The flight took a little over an hour and was rather peaceful. The red glow from the cabin floodlights bathed us in an eerie glow over the entire back of the C130. We knew when we were close to landing. The pilots began to nose the aircraft over and commenced a series of S-Turns loosing altitude over a very small area of the Earth below us. We landed and taxied off the runway as the Loadmaster lowered the tail ramp while we tried to adjust our eyes to the dark emptiness of the night. There were no runway lights, no taxiway lights and no airport beacon light like would be normal for back home. This was black. The pilots were wearing NVG’s to see as they taxied the aircraft to a stop. We exited the aircraft out the tail ramp while the C130 engines roared deafly loud. As we walked the half-mile to the marshalling area, we could hear the C130 engines rev back up as it taxied back out to the runway. We received another quick briefing instructing us on the various warning sirens and what each meant. They explained the whole series of sirens very much like Tornado sirens you hear back home. They were just as scary here as well. Each type of tone meant something different. Whether it was a ground attack, an air attack or a chemical attack on the base there was a distinctly different siren for each. At the time I remember thinking to myself I was not sure what was more unsettling, the fact that it might happen, or that it happens so frequently there were sirens for it. As I would later learn, it is a part of life here in Iraq to hear those very sirens waling at you numerous times each and everyday. Some days we would have as few as one or two inbound mortars or rockets, however, one day we had over fourteen inbound rockets and mortars in a matter of minutes. Several soldiers were killed and wounded that day. There really is not much you can do. Unfortunately, the sirens are turned on after a mortar or rocket has impacted. Therefore, I suppose the logic was, just in case there were multiple rockets we would be under cover. We would race out of our beds and into the concrete bunkers with our body armor and weapons waiting for the all clear. Of course, over time you begin to think it is a waste of time to duck into the bunkers. After a few months, the entire company began staying in their rooms. I suppose we collectively adopted the “Big camp…little bullet” theory. If it was our time to go…we would not even hear the alarm.
