by Derek Farwell
Columnist

One of the things that I can remember from my deployment with great clarity is doing foot patrols, specifically doing them in areas where a fire fight could be expected or had happened before. Regardless of whether a violent confrontation happened or not, they were never a particularly enjoyable experience because of the uncertainty of what could happen based on previous experiences, or just your imagination getting away from you. Walking down the streets in broad daylight knowing that people who want to kill you are almost certainly at least watching you, if not planning to ambush you is a very unsettling feeling. It makes you feel extremely vulnerable, like you’re just waiting for the inevitable to happen which is often worse than when something actually does happen. Many times things would go fine with no violence, but just as often, things would turn ugly.

When we first moved from Baghdad to the city of Baqubah we felt pretty confident in our Stryker fighting vehicles because we’d had a lot of success with them in the past. As is often the case, even the strongest pieces of equipment has a weak spot, which was pretty much exposed right away when we got to Baqubah, and that was the underbelly of the vehicle which is why they buried bombs under the road. After a short time in the city we realized that we needed to adapt to what the enemy was doing because at our current rate, we’d have no vehicles or people left to fight with as we were losing both at a quick rate. So, as unpopular of a plan as it was, the best answer was to leave the vehicles and walk the streets on foot. I was not at all in favor of this. I’m 6’3” and 210 pounds and carried a big machine gun, so I made for a fairly inviting target should someone choose to shoot at us.

Many of the ambushes that we were the target of would be initiated by an IED or gunshots, so as you’re walking down the streets you’re always looking around to identify the most likely locations from which you would be shot at from. You also watched the people on the streets. Many of the people in the town were reluctant to give us information at times because they knew that the bad guys were always watching, and that we wouldn’t be in the area forever but the bad guys would, and if they were seen talking to us, they were likely to be kidnapped and either tortured and murdered, or their families would be murdered which is a pretty big deterrent from talking to us. But the people always knew what was going on in their neighborhoods. They knew when there was a bomb in the area, and they knew when the bad guys were nearby. So watching them could tell you a lot. If you’re in a part of the city that’s busy, but as soon as we show up people start to disappear, it was a pretty clear indicator that something bad was about to happen. While doing patrols, in addition to watching what’s going on around us, we also always had to be thinking about, “If something goes down now, where is the closest cover to get behind to return fire.” There are a lot of things going through your mind as you walk down the street.

Doing foot patrols as I said, were never fun. It was always tense, and with so much to pay attention to and take in, it gave you a feeling of anxiety and paranoia. You knew that someone was always watching, and you never knew when the situation could turn ugly. It put you in a state of mind that I’ve found you can’t just turn off. You can’t just make it go away when you’re all of a sudden in a different setting. I know that a lot of veterans come home with memories like that, and feelings of anxiety and paranoia, and I again am no exception. Even today, after six years of being home, I still find myself feeling uneasy, anxious, and paranoid when I am in some situations. I find myself watching people and looking around more than paying attention to whatever it is that I’m doing.

I remember coming home from Iraq. The day of our very last foot patrol and showing our replacements around the city, and one week later, I was walking down the streets of Seattle with my buddies when we got home. It was definitely a strange experience. Every time we turned a corner and saw a fire hydrant or garbage can, my first thought was that it was a bomb. I’ve gotten past that by now, but the thoughts and feelings I experienced during our foot patrols have never left, and I doubt they ever will.

drfarwell@hotmail.com