Baghdad International Airport has seen more regal days. The name “Saddam” next to the words “International Airport” has been torn from the wall near the entrance, but the outline of the letters honoring the former ruler of Iraq remains visible, as if to signify that his legacy will be difficult to erase.

I had been dropped off from downtown Baghdad minutes earlier by my security detail to meet John Harmsen, a security coordinator for Kellogg, Brown & Root (KBR) Co., a subsidiary of Halliburton, a company much in the news lately. I came to Iraq to determine why so many American veterans like Harmsen are working—and risking their lives—here. Hundreds of companies employing thousands of workers are helping to rebuild Iraq. KBR alone has more than 10,000 employees supporting operations in the Middle East, and according to company officials, about one-third of them are military veterans.

Civilians under contract have been working alongside our military for more than two centuries. Gen. George Washington used contractors to supply rations and equipment to the Continental Army during the Revolutionary War. What brings them in such great numbers into harm’s way? Is it the money? The adventure? Patriotism? My goal was to find the answer.

Certainly, money is a factor—according to a KBR spokesperson, when you figure in overtime from 84-plus hour workweeks, along with hazard and separation pay, KBR employees can expect to make two or three times the standard salary for similar jobs in the United States. But for many, the payoffs appear to extend far beyond their wallets.

On the Move

As I wait for Harmsen, the events of the past year run through my mind. We’ve all seen the nonstop reports on the cable news channels, but here history is being made up close and personal. To our left, a dhl Airbus a-300 sits on the tarmac awaiting repairs, a canvas sheet hanging from its left wing. The plane had been on its departure climb when an sa-7 missile, fired from the ground, struck the left engine and exploded. Fortunately the fire was contained, and the plane landed safely. Not so fortunate was the crew of a U.S. Army oh-53 Kiowa helicopter that crashed into the Tigris River last night—three crewmembers still were missing. Today, a Blackhawk helicopter s-turns along the river, ready to swoop in should another missile be fired at an arriving or departing aircraft.
 
After a five-minute wait, an SUV with Harmsen at the wheel swings into the parking lot. “Just got a call,” Harmsen tells me and the public affairs escort who has accompanied me on this trip. “We’ve had an incident. Have to go to the JOC [Joint Operations Center] and look into it.” Our options at that point are to hop in and try to do the interview en route to the JOC or cancel. We climb aboard.

Harmsen retired in 2000 as a master sergeant in the U.S. Army Special Forces. At 49, he’s still Delta-Force tough and looks almost 10 years younger than his age. After the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attack he tried to reenlist. “They wouldn’t let me—too old,” Harmsen says, looking me in the eye; in a voice that places no blame he adds, “Broke my back twice [parachute] jumping.” He thought KBR offered the closest thing available to being back in the military, so he signed on for a standard one-year contract, “trying to help out.”

Harmsen served in Iraq back in 1991. “The thought that bothers me the most is that [because] we didn’t have the intestinal fortitude to finish the job, now my kids and grandkids have to come back here.” In fact, his 25-year-old son, John Jr., is a uh-60 Blackhawk pilot who since June has been flying up north over the dangerous Sunni Triangle, Saddam Hussein’s former stronghold. His daughter Kara, now stationed in the Air Force in Korea, has pulled duty in Kuwait.

Harmsen arrived in Iraq April 24, 2003, when the country still was smoking from the U.S. invasion. One of his many jobs is to ensure that mail gets to the troops. He keeps tabs on drivers, semi tractor-trailers, and shipping containers, all headed up-country with support items that come in to the terminal by air. Since his arrival, KBR vehicles have delivered 150,000 bags of mail, the equivalent of one full sack of letters for each soldier in Iraq.

We finally reach the JOC, where Harmsen pulls the vehicle to a stop and heads inside. Ten minutes later he reappears. “One of our fuel convoys ran into fog, [and a couple vehicles] collided and exploded,” he says. “Don’t know about casualties. The fire is too intense to approach.”

We drive to the vehicle maintenance lot. Harmsen checks on a subcontractor employee working on a truck engine and then examines a chassis that had been damaged in a collision. He spends his days on the move, with cell phone to his ear, or in his small office cranking out administrative e-mail messages. Long after sunset, Harmsen returns to his trailer in the guarded compound on the airport grounds where he tries to get a few hours sleep. He has no VCR, no tv, no radio. “I could if I wanted those things,” Harmsen says, “but I have no time for them.”

The interview over, my escort and I rejoin our security detail for the 25-minute drive back into downtown Baghdad for more interviews. Although I made a similar trip when I first arrived, when you’re traveling in Iraq, very little is routine (see A Passage to Baghdad, page 19)

Making Progress

Entering the city, I pass Assassin’s Gate, an entry into the Coalition Provisional Authority (cpa) headquarters, a Green Zone under tight U.S. control in the former Presidential Palace complex. The gate is closed, a sizeable crater still visible near its entrance. A week earlier, a suicide bomber had detonated a truckload of explosives, killing himself and 18 Iraqis. Twenty-eight civilians including six Americans were injured.

The Presidential Palace now is home to U.S. Ambassador Paul Bremer, the CPA, and the troops tasked with keeping order in the city. Inside the palace’s cathedral-like rooms hang crystal chandeliers. Spiral marble staircases and ornately decorated walls and ceilings awe visitors at each turn. The CPA—which is designated by the United Nations as Iraq’s temporary governing body until the country is stable enough to assume its sovereignty — and the Army use every square foot of space. Cots and bunk beds sit on marble floors. The grand reception room has been turned into a giant mess hall.

Working in a building adjacent to the palace is the most senior ranking military retiree in Iraq these days, Rear Adm. David Nash, USN-Ret., who heads the CPA’s Project Management Office (PMO). Nash, who reports to Bremer and Secretary of the Army Les Brownlee, has been a critical player in rebuilding Iraq’s economy and infrastructure.

Asked how the work in Iraq is going, Nash replies, “I always respond to that question with this: Look at where we’ve come from.” Nash recounts the progress that’s been made in rebuilding the country. Iraq’s oil production has recovered almost to prewar levels. Electricity and phone service have been restored. Fuel, food, and water are getting to the population, and people are getting back to work. “This is the largest reconstruction effort since World War II,” Nash says.

When Iraq is compared to Afghanistan, he is upbeat about Iraq’s potential for economic and political progress. “This country has water and oil and the population is very well educated.” And while it took many years for Europe to recover from its devastating war, the CPA is set to begin dissolving this summer.
Even so, that doesn’t mean Iraq’s reconstruction will be swift. “The PMO will remain in country long after the CPA has dissolved. There will be infrastructure projects, which could take years to complete. As for what we can expect when the CPA is dissolved, plans still are being worked out, but the PMO will be working with whatever U.S. entity is on the ground,” he explains.

Nash has become a target of disaffected members of the Baath Party, the former ruling regime under Saddam Hussein, and the hotel where he originally stayed has been attacked. “I am concerned [about safety]. I’ve had to increase my security,” he says. That same evening, as if to punctuate his point, a mortar round was fired into the CPA compound. Fortunately, it landed near the helipad and didn’t cause any serious damage.

Making a Difference

Among those working in the palace grounds is former Marine Capt. Mike Westhead, who secured his job as liaison officer for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers after attending an MOAA Career Fair. He says many military veterans are idealists, prompting them to want to get involved.