ANDREWS’ FIRE STATION MISSION SERVES AS CASE STUDY IN HOW TO REBUILD IRAQ

Ed Andrews and Dr. Ali Sa’adeed Sa’adoon (Director General for Civil Defense) Developing Scope of Reconstruction for Al Mada'in Fire Station at the Looted Station

The staccato beat echoed through Baghdad’s western suburbs. Instead of ducking the usual AK-47 fire, however, Ed Andrews slipped around to the rear of the Al Bayaa fire station he was helping to rebuild.

And choked back tears.

The noise was hammer blows—the only friendly bang-bang he’d known during his four months in the Iraqi capital. Iraqi workmen were fixing their neighborhood’s looted-and-burned fire station. “It occurred to me it was the first time I’d heard loud sounds that weren’t gunshots,” Andrews recalls. “And thinking I had some part in this (reconstruction)—I had to go back behind the building for awhile. Then I finished my inspection.”

Al Karkh Fire Station Security Measures

Andrews’ experiences over the next 100 days or so provide a riveting case study of how the Corps is helping rebuild a nation and society. His story is also a refreshing antidote to the negative drumbeat of what’s going wrong in Iraq.

Throughout his tour, Andrews displayed a deft diplomatic touch, encouraging Iraqis he dealt with to believe that they were in charge—“President Bush is paying me,” he told them, “but I’m working for you.” He also successfully appealed to their national pride, insisting that the jobs they were doing were in their best interests, that it was their own money (assets once stashed away by Saddam Hussein) they were spending.

And after four months, Andrews’ track record in rebuilding Baghdad’s fire stations reversed the stereotype of government inefficiency versus private sector competence. He and his Iraqi counterparts initiated refurbishment of 11 of the city’s 25 fire stations, while giant Bechtel Corp., also responsible for ports, transportation networks, 1,200 schools and the electricity system, had barely started on the 15 fire stations assigned to the San Francisco firm. (Unwilling to wait on Bechtel, Andrews included one of its 15 fire stations in his work portfilio.)

It’s no exaggeration to suggest that if the Ed Andrews’ formula were repeated thousands of times on the ground in Iraq, its people could assume their own sovereignty much sooner. And, of course, American and coalition forces could then come home.

Iraqi Contractor and Ed Andrews Discussing Reconstruction Progress at Al Kadumia Fire Station, Baghdad

Working for the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID) in the chaotic aftermath of the war, FEST members wore many helmets. Their missions involved assessing the damage to electrical grids, water systems, sewers, schools, hospitals, fire and police stations and municipal buildings, then arriving at cost estimates and awarding contracts.

In the process, they were forced to operate in some decidedly unorthodox ways. Such as sealing deals with a handshake. Or paying contractors with falafel-thick wads of cash. Or tele-engineering with their laptops on a table made from a door, in 110-degree heat. Or having their every move around the city choreographed and approved by GPS-wielding military travel agents—20-year-old U.S. troops.

Andrews reckons that, at various times, he acted as a program manager, project manager, construction engineer, quality control inspector, contracting specialist, resident engineer and public affairs expert. Once, in the mess hall of the presidential palace where team members lived, he ran into BG Larry Davis, former South Pacific Division Engineer, and his deputy, COL Leonardo Flor.. “Who’s your contracting officer?” Flor asked. “Well, I guess I am,” the Emergency Management chief replied. “But it’s OK because we’re using Iraqi money.”

Security concerns kept team members from entering Iraq as quickly as they wanted. After a week of gourmet food at a Kuwaiti four-star hotel, the FEST folks found out they were finally going to cross the border next day. “We were like kids on Christmas Eve,” Andrews recalls. “All us middle-aged folks were giddy. We wanted to get out of there, to get on with the mission.”

Looting Damage to Al Bayaa Fire Station, Baghdad

“You’ll see it,” he said. They did: rocket-propelled grenade rounds, hand grenades, land mines, artillery shells, antiaircraft ammo, small arms bullets, even pieces of missiles from U.S. helicopters. The FEST team quickly memorized the postwar mantra: If you didn’t drop it, don’t pick it up.

They draped mosquito netting around their cots in one of the palaces, which boasted four 15-foot-high busts of Saddam at its corners. Maj. Colloton requisitioned a kitchen to serve as their office, as well as commandeering lawn chairs and a makeshift table. They got hot meals at breakfast and dinner (at a circular table once used by the Iraqi president for meetings) and an MRE for lunch. Each worked seven days a week, 12 to 18 hours a day. As summertime temps soared over 110 degrees, even Andrews’ pants were soaked with sweat.

Andrews initially reported to LTG Carl Struck, a rolled-up-shirtsleeves officer who donned civvies in his role as infrastructure chief. “He wanted to come across as someone who was there to help them rebuild their country,” Andrews says. “I really think it worked.” The general told Andrews the mission was the most important he’d had in his 35-year Army career.

Struck assigned Andrews to fire stations. To reconstruct them, he needed to know how badly they were damaged, which meant he had to go see them. Andrews soon linked up with MAJ Brent Gerald, a reservist and firefighter from Greensboro, N.C., who was working “the big picture.” He was responsible for firefighting equipment, firefighters’ personal gear, foam, salaries, mapping—details he got from the Iraqi Civil Defense Director General Dr. Ali Sa’aeed Sa’adoon. “Brent was hard-wired into the system,” Andrews says.

Further looting damage

The first station Andrews visited was Al Baya, which was supposed to serve 1.2 million people with two fire trucks and 15-20 men per shift. The station had been looted of everything not bolted down—and some things that were. Plumbing, lights, showers, all firefighting gear.

But the looters couldn’t cart away the firefighters’ esprit. Andrews came to marvel at their loyalty and dedication, even as they dodged rounds from saboteurs and looters wondering if anything was left to steal. With coalition forces’ approval, the firefighters started carrying their own weapons.

Their equipment “was pretty much nonexistent,” Andrews remembers. “Cloth jumpsuits, open-toed sandals.” Firefighters had to contend with electrical, oil and chemical blazes. At one fire he heard about, “they soaked a guy down, sent him into the burning building, and after he came out, they soaked down another one.”

After he visually inspected the Al Bayaa fire station, Andrews came up with a cost estimate for repair, based on some 25 line items. He and Aldrich, the Arizona-based contract specialist, presented their conclusions to a review board, which approved funding with assets seized from Saddam’s hoarded cash.

Then Andrews began working closely with the Iraqi director-general. The American asked if he knew any contractors, and the Iraqi produced one who once had been jailed by Saddam’s regime. Andrews took the contractor to the site, showed him the line-itemspreadsheets and left the final figure to the director-general “who took a very hands-on approach, which helped me because I was kind of out of my lane.”

MAJ Brent Gerald Discussing Fire Department Issues with Dr Ali Sa’aeed Sa’adoon and Iraqi Interpreter

From spreadsheet to handshake took two hours.

Money came from a finance officer housed next to a massive basement vault. “They’d take out brand new $100 bills and count it out in front of me,” he says. “I signed. The director-general signed, and they handed it to him. I discovered that $100,000 in $100 bills is five or six inches thick. If I was waiting for the way banking is done in the 21st century, I’d still be waiting there.”

As reconstruction moved ahead, Andrews would visit the fire station, sometimes making progress payments. As he did so, he appealed to the contractor’s patriotism. “These are not American funds,” Andrews told him. “They are Iraqi funds. It’s an Iraqi fire station. You’re an Iraqi contractor, so do the right thing for the Iraqi people.”

It worked. Andrews says the price was reasonable, the quality of construction good, no complaints from the customer, the Civil Defense director general. “We were putting Iraqis to work,” he observes. “Iraqis were making money. Local people could see progress. We were really making a difference—not just in getting a fire station up and running, but in the attitude of the community.”

In rebuilding other fire stations, Andrews used another contractor “to get a little price competition.” He believes the Corps and USAID were “really pleased” at the results.

Now back in Los Angeles, Andrews is guardedly optimistic about Iraq’s future. “It’s going to take a while,” he says. “It’s going to take a lot of money and a concerted effort. It’s a shame we weren’t ready for this four months ago.”

When they first arrived in Iraq, a State Dept. official estimated they’d all be going home in six weeks. Obviously, that was pollyannaish. “The lack of security just stopped everything from happening,” Andrews says. “The surprise for us was that security problems got worse. We saw the force protection measures increase, more razor wire, more troops, tanks, machineguns, Bradley fighting vehicles.”

Andrews spoke with his wife Sylvia every day to “give her a comfort level she didn’t expect.” He asked about Kiko, their cat, for example, and “what people talked about around the dinner table.” He didn’t volunteer many details about his daily life “so she wouldn’t get too upset.”

He firmly believes that the Corps has a vital mission in Iraq, both military and civilian, “and the brunt of it’s going to be on the Corps’ civilians. Success will depend on the willingness of civilians to go over there and volunteer and take a chance. I can’t recommend too strongly that everyone take this opportunity.”

The last day he was in Iraq, he was at a fire station. “I wasn’t a hero or brave,” he says. “But you just do your job and trust the troops and they really came through for us.”

So did Ed Andrews.