Convoy duty - Feature Story

Dusk settles on a convoy of Australian Light Armoured Vehicles as they make their way out a coalition base. Low Res | High Res

Ships of the desert: The modern freighter of the Iraqi desert bypasses its older brethren. Low Res | High Res

A convoy of Australian Light Armoured Vehicles turns off an Iraqi highway on their way to a coalition base in southeast Iraq. Low Res | High Res

The afternoon sun settles on Trooper Dan Flynn while he waits for the orders for his convoy to mount up and move off. Low Res | High Res

Sergeant Jeffery Rolfe waits atop his Australian Light Armoured Vehicle for the orders to move out as the sun begins to set over a coalition base in southeast Iraq. Low Res | High Res

A rural Iraqi house is set against the open plains of the Al Muthanna province. Low Res | High Res

An Iraqi boy waves to a passing convoy of Australian Light Armoured Vehicles. Such a sight is common now among Iraqi children and adults. Low Res | High Res

When convoys meet: A convoy of Australian Light Armoured Vehicles passes a convoy of fuel trucks along one of the major highways of Iraq. The three-lane dual carriageway makes a welcome change for the narrow provincial roads. Low Res | High Res

Trooper Dan Flynn scans for possible threats as his Australian Light Armoured Vehicle roars along an Iraqi road in the Al Muthanna province. Low Res | High Res

The Ziggurat of Ur is located in the southeast of Iraq. Believed to be 4000 years old, it was built by the order of Ur-Nammu as temple for the moon god Nanna. Ur is also the birthplace of Abraham, father of the Hebrews and regarded as a prophet by Jews, Christians and Muslims. Low Res | High Res

Trooper Steven Maxwell relaxes outside of the confines of his driver's station in his Australian Light Armoured Vehicle. Soon he will be crammed into the drivers seat for a couple of hours while his convoy returns to their base in the Al Muthanna province. Low Res | High Res

By Corporal Cameron Jamieson, Directorate Defence Newspapers (filed 13 May 2005)

The line of dusty Australian Light Armoured Vehicles stretches back for more than 50 metres, the crews either seated upon the steel hulls of their cavalry chargers or clustered around the vehicle's tail ramp, waiting for the order to go.

Today I have been granted permission to travel with an Australian convoy from Camp Smitty, located near the Al Muthanna provincial town of As Samawah, to a major Coalition base where we will collect more troops for the Al Muthanna Task Group and some semi-trailers laden with rations.

I am riding in the lead vehicle so I can get the best opportunity for photographs as we travel through the Iraqi countryside, but that also means we could be the first to find trouble.

Such thoughts are quickly forgotten though as the vehicle commander Sergeant Jeffery Rolfe strides up to the vehicle calling "start up, ramp up".

There is a flurry of activity as helmets are donned and dust goggles are fixed in place, followed by the roar of the engine and the gentle jarring that tells us the ramp is closed.

With a slight lurch and a plume of exhaust gas our vehicle powers into motion and we leave Camp Smitty behind as we drive into the Al Muthanna landscape.

As we turn from the dirt entry track onto the tar provincial road I look across at our 'Operator', Trooper Dan Flynn.

Tall and thin, the 19 year-old is normally a driver, but today he got lucky.

His vehicle is down for maintenance, but instead of being left behind he was tasked with being our Operator, the soldier who watches out for any threat that may be approaching from the side or rear of the vehicle.

Earlier he told me what happened when he was in the queue for breakfast and found out about the job.

"I jumped up and down and called out 'yee-haa'," he says.
"I like being an Operator, it's a job that needs to be done well.
"You just can't sit there and not do your job - that's when bad stuff will happen."

During the course of the day I will learn that when things are slack he is a typical Australian teenager - relaxed and always joking.

But when he is on the job he is transformed into a typical Australian soldier - focused, quiet and professional.

That's what I see now, and that's how he will stay for the next two hours.

Only when we are safe within the Coalition base will he start to smile and joke again.

Sergeant Jeffery Rolfe looks like he's been a vehicle commander forever.

Tanned and athletic, he has the air of a career soldier about him.

At 34 the East Timor veteran is younger than me, but I wouldn't hesitate to take orders from him.

In his crew helmet and shaded goggles he looks menacing, but he doesn't stop to look at me.

He is keeping an eye on his surroundings, and although I can't hear his voice over the roar of the engine I can see by the way he speaks into his microphone that he is keeping his crew on the ball, his short sentences used only for instructions that will keep them alive.

I turn to look at the countryside, and for a moment I am transported back in time to the farming plains north of Moree in New South Wales.

Childhood memories of working on my aunt's farm return as the smell of groundwater, sheep and crops reaches out to me.

The surrounding countryside is flat and almost treeless, but there is some greenery thanks to the complex of irrigation canals that feed water from the Euphrates River and other waterways.

Children run out to wave at us while adults stand and smile as they also wave, clear signs that we are welcome.

It strikes me that no one is making them wave, and more importantly, nobody is stopping them from waving.

The Iraqis genuinely want to be friendly with us.

We move away from the greener irrigated areas into the drier plains of the south-east. The countryside is arid and bleak, yet people still live here.

There are the tents of nomads and flocks of sheep and goats with children and women in attendance.

The rural road gives way to a major highway, and suddenly we meet the unreal convoys of Iraq.

A seemingly endless line of petrol tankers cruises along the road, their drivers smiling at us as we speed by.

I am enjoying the smoothness of the road when Trooper Flynn suddenly swings around, his rifle pointed at the bridge ahead.

As we pass under he swings back, watching for any gunman or a terrorist armed with a grenade.

It's just routine for Trooper Flynn, but for me it's a good reminder that you can't let your guard down in Iraq.

We pass the Ziggurat of Ur, the 4000 year-old mud-brick stepped pyramid that was built for the Sumerian moon god Nanna.

The ancient city of Ur is also the birthplace of Abraham, the ancestor of the Hebrews and a common patriarch for Jews, Christians and Muslims.

Then we trek past more open and dusty plains until we arrive at our destination, where we can unload our weapons and relax.

I speak to our driver Trooper Steven Maxwell, who has spent the whole trip shut inside his driver's cockpit, watching the world around him through his array of periscopes.

The friendly 20 year-old is all smiles as he offers me a lukewarm can of Coke and we chat about his job.

"You have to keep very alert, always scanning for possible vehicle and roadside bombs and suspicious people," he says.

"But the people here seem to be happy to see us here, and hopefully they realise we are here to help them by providing security.

"But you always have to be alert for that one person who wants to cause us grief."

I also get to talk to Sergeant Rolfe, who turns out to be very polite and friendly.

"I really enjoy convoys," he says.

"I can't say there's anything I don't like about them.
"It gets you out and about, you're always covering new ground and seeing new faces."

He too is taken by the warm reception the Australians are receiving from Iraqi children.

"Kids are very influential, and they'll do what other people are doing," he says.

"So if the kids are waving that means other people are doing it around them and that's a good thing."

There has been a delay in gathering the passengers and trucks, and the sun is low in the sky before we leave the base for the return journey to Camp Smitty. I offer my hatch to our passengers so they can see Iraq first-hand, but none of them stays crouched for long in the hatchway.

"There's not much to see," is the usual comment.

I resume my watch but the light is failing so I exchange my camera for my rifle. As we pass the darkened villages the men are gathered by the dusty coffee shops to talk about the days events while the women finish outside chores.

Soon it is dark and I can see Sergeant Rolfe is keeping an eye on the targeting monitor of his remote weapon station, which allows him to see far ahead of the convoy for any dangers.

Suddenly he stiffens and I see Trooper Flynn point his rifle towards an object looming in the dark. Up ahead I see a car parked on my side of the otherwise deserted road, sitting at an odd angle and facing us.

I can see two small points of light in the car like the lights of a CD player, but these seem far more sinister. Trooper Maxwell takes evasive action and we speed safely past the vehicle without incident.The entire convoy passes harmlessly and we continue to Camp Smitty through the moonless night.

Finally we arrive at the camp and unload our passengers.

The Regimental Sergeant Major is there to meet us, and later in the mess hall the Commander of the Al Muthanna Task Group, Lieutenant Colonel Roger Noble, checks on the welfare of his soldiers.

Like the shepherd in the bible he wants to make sure his entire flock is safe. It is late when I return to my bunk, and I can see the look of relief on the faces of my tent-mates. I strip off my body armour and stow away my equipment and reflect on the day's convoy duty.

There were so many positive things, but they were always shadowed by the menace of the few who want to make life a misery in Iraq. But it is with the help of organisations like the Al Muthanna Task Group that the Iraqi Army will be trained to protect their country independent of foreign help.

Slowly I ease myself onto my sleeping bag, and I ask myself was today's trip worth the danger.

"You bet," I say to myself.

Just like Trooper Flynn I'd do it all again in a heartbeat.