Leaving Baghdad
by Warren Coats 

My flight on Royal Jordanian was scheduled to leave Baghdad International Airport Thursday morning at 10:15. I was told to be ready to leave by 8:00 in the evening Wednesday, the night before. For security reasons the travel time to the airport varies and cannot be told much in advance. At 8:30PM Jay knocked on my trailer room door at the BearingPoint Camp in the Green Zone were I lived and said that I was to report to the loading area at 9:15PM. At 9:20 I determined that Jay had meant to say 9:50. At 9:50 two armored Toyota SUVs pulled up to take me and two other BearingPoint contractors to the boarding area for the Rhino buses that would take us to the airport.

Unlike our armored Toyotas, which look normal, though it is hard opening and closing their very heavy doors, the Rhino buses looked like nothing I have ever seen before. Their very appearance says heavy ARMOR. The windows are high and small. The Rhinos look like vehicles in which murderers would be transported. I have no doubt that Saddam has or will be transported in one of them. When we arrived at the Rhino loading area in the Green Zone, Patrick, Colin and I unloaded our bags from our Toyotas and joined the one hundred or so mostly military people standing around the area. Patrick, a Ghanaian, former Economics Professor at UCLA, was heading to Dubai for R and R and Colin, an electrical industry and regulatory lawyer, was returning home in the States.

We chatted idly for about an hour until an Army Captain stood on a table and directed us to line up to be manifested: “Any one with emergency leave first, those on military flights second, those on civilian flights after that, then KBR employees, etc. After reaching the head of the line, showing my DOD badge and signing in, I took my luggage to the luggage truck and reported to Rhino bus number 27, where I signed in again and boarded. We were instructed to put on the body armor and helmets provided there and given a security procedures briefing. At around 11:30 our three Rhino buses pulled out, traveled about 200 meters and stopped with the lights out. We remained there for about 20 minutes until our 4 humvees and two Black Hawk escorts arrived. The 30 minute drive down Iraq 's most dangerous highway, the BIAP road was uneventful.

Upon arrival at Camp Stryker on the airport grounds at around 12:30 am, Patrick, Colin and I collected our bags, located our waiting PSDs (Personal Security Details) and cars and were driven to Camp Liberty for the rest of the night. At camp Liberty , where Saddam is being held, we were shown to our three cots in the tent used by the Kroll security team for the night's sleep. One of the Kroll PSDs woke us at 7:00 am and took us to the mess hall tent near by for breakfast. I am sure that every thing had been flow in from the sugar pops to the plastic forks and spoons. The largest gift of America to Iraq so far has been tons of plastic and concrete.

While there were no towels (other than paper ones) in the shower room (we had separate port a johns near by), there is still no other country in the world that can afford to keep its solders billeted as comfortably as ours. All of these tents (and my trailer room in the Green Zone) have TV and air conditioners and thus obviously electricity. We rough it with luxury (my trailer had WiFi Internet access).

At 8:00am our PSDs drove us to the airport terminal for the final rounds of procedures. The closest we could be dropped off was several hundred feet from the entrance. Before dragging our luggage very far we were required to show our passes and tickets to someone along the way. When we reached the entrance we were required to line up our luggage for inspection by a bomb sniffing dog and had our passports and tickets inspected again. Once inside the terminal building we presided to the line up for the X-ray machine where another person examined our tickets (writing something on them) and a second person checked our passports. Once through the X-ray we proceeded, with the unwanted but remunerated help of porters, to the Royal Jordanian check in counter. From there we lined up to have our passports and tickets checked again before entering the waiting area. This was the official immigration booths where our passports were stamped. Before reaching the booth a lady insisted that every one come to her counter first to pay an airport tax (which I am exempt from because of my diplomatic passport). Once all the way inside we had only another hour to wait before our 9:45 boarding.

After a final passport inspection we boarded a bus to the plane. However, as we climbed off the bus a half dozen heavily armed solders and an equal number of other officials lined us up and our remaining hand luggage for a final sniff from the dog. We stood there in the hot sun staring face to face at the solders between us and our flight out. The guy next to me started laughing some what uncontrollably and apologized to me that when he gets excessively frustrated he just laughs. It reminded me of the sign at the entrance to the road to the BearingPoint Camp, which announce another facility a bit further down the road: “This way to the Stress Control Center.” We were then allowed to go find our checked luggage waiting next to the plane in order to have a security sticker attacked before it was loaded. I was at least able to say that I saw my bags actually loaded into the plane (just in case that might be useful when I arrived in Amman).

We finally boarded more or less on time (10:15) took off for Amman about twelve hours after I had started for the airport from the BearingPoint Camp.

P.S. When we landed in Amman , they drove a portable X-ray truck up to the plane and everyone had to put their hand luggage through the X-ray there on the tarmac next to the plane. The guy who had stood next to me in Baghdad was beyond laughter. We were safely out of Iraq again.

Warren Coats was a contract employee in Iraq.

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