Downtown Iraq

Walking around downtown last Thursday morning felt a lot like being back in Iraq. I deployed in 2008 as a public affairs Soldier, and the downtown scene had that same silent, on-guard feel of walking through the roads of Camp Victory or the Green Zone in Baghdad. The only difference this time, I didn’t have my M16 rifle with my load of 30-round magazine, and I was in civlian clothes instead of in uniform. In Iraq, I never had to fire a shot. Downtown, I’ll continued my walk with my own personal digital camera. I guess, you could say that I went out armed.

Like in Iraq, my mission now with the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette was similar. Take photos. Get the action. Write stories.

The various checkpoints around town were cut off by concrete blocks and military humvees with National Guard and Air Force troops standing by. Most of them are wearing their ballistic vests (for those of you who know the military lingo… the dreaded IBA). No rifles and no kevlar helmets this time around, but the feel of security was still similar. Up-armored trucks weaved their way around the streets. Instead of Military Police, various police officers and law enforcement walked around with zip-tie handcuffs clipped to their belts.

In Iraq, we had these 20-foot, concrete T-walls that surrounded every inch of our base. On top, there were coils of concertina wire that looked like hollowed snakes. In downtown Pittsburgh, instead of walls, massive buildings blocked the view of the grim sky at various angles. Fences surrounded Market Square and various other spots. The same concertina snakes wrapped their way around the chain-linked fences blocking off streets. At one checkpoint, security forces installed a ramp that jutted out to block off any speeding vehicle coming that way. The ramp lowers to allow access to vehicles with credentials and police cruisers. That same kind of ramp is installed in the Green Zone at the gate of the main palace.

On Camp Victory, which is located just a few miles south of Baghdad, we had our famous Green Beans Coffeehouse. This morning, I stopped by Crazy Mocha for old time’s sake. Not bad, but I still miss the cappuccinos in Iraq.

The only other vehicles downtown, other than police and military, were Port Authority buses transporting passengers to and fro.

Just like in Camp Victory, I had that feeling of being on the inside. The feeling that any danger or harm may be "out there" but would try to come "in here." It was only later that news reports would show that most of the activity took place in Oakland.

Police and Military stood by awaiting any potential attack. This time, it might be protestors on foot holding signs and digital cameras instead of insurgents riding on beat-down trucks armed with AK-47s and explosives.

The city stood silent as I walked around the perimeter for about an hour that morning. Was this the silent before the storm?

I hoped not.