Senate Democrats are holding a hearing today on Halliburton and contracting abuses in Iraq. The theme isn't new but some of the details are. Truck drivers who worked in Iraq for Halliburton subsidiary KBR will tell the story of a horrifically violent convoy run on April 9, 2004. I described this event and the bungling behind it in Blood Money, my new book on the reconstruction of Iraq, as well as in stories for the Los Angeles Times.
KBR had the job of delivering fuel, food and water for American soldiers. In early April 2004, Iraq exploded in violence. On April 9, the military and KBR sent out the convoy despite knowing that the truckers were going into a war zone without any kind of armor on their vehicles. The convoy fought 200 to 300 insurgents through a five mile long zone of nearly constant fire.
Of 43 men in the convoy, there were 25 casualties, a rate equivalent to that suffered by the first American paratrooper units in Normandy. Two U.S. soldiers and six trucker drivers were killed. Another soldier, Sgt. Keith "Matt" Maupin, is still listed as missing. Another truck driver, Tim Bell, is missing and is presumed dead.
For their part in the combat, eight soldiers in the 724th Transportation Company were awarded Purple Hearts. One soldier got a Silver Star. Surviving KBR employees were treated to dinner at a hotel in Kuwait and gold coins from KBR inscribed with the company's motto in Iraq: "We deliver."
The KBR truck drivers deserve to be included in the list of heroes in Iraq. Most of these men and women were blue collar types looking to make enough money in Iraq to realize the American dream--something they couldn't do driving back home. A lot of people believe the contractors made bank. But the KBR truck drivers were usually just looking to put braces on their kids or save up to buy a house. So far, more than 500 contractors, many of them KBR drivers, have been killed in Iraq--a staggering toll that would push the total number of U.S. killed in Iraq to over 3,000.
The truck drivers' story is important because it highlights one of the truths of contracting: It allows the military to hide its losses because people don't pay nearly as much attention to a dead contractor as a dead soldier.
Case in point: None of the trucks that KBR brought in immediately after the invasion, when Iraq was still relatively calm, were bullet proofed. As attacks worsened, KBR attempted to upgrade by purchasing armor kits, but had trouble installing them because of their weight. U.S. soldiers' vehicles also lacked armor, of course. But the soldiers' plight generated outrage in Congress and eventually forced the Pentagon to act. The contractors, on the other hand, had only KBR to appeal to.
During my visit in August 2004 on a reporting trip for the LA Times, most KBR drivers were racing through clouds of bullets and flying shards of metal with no more protection than a seatbelt, a helmet and a bullet-proof vest. All the truckers could do was hit the gas and pray for the best. As one driver told me: "If you don't get nervous, you're stupid. If you don't get nervous, it's time to go home."