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FEATURE FOR
WEDNESDAY, MAY 19, 2004
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Back from Iraq
Army Major Foster Hudson helps distribute 120 million
pounds of mail from home |
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Major Foster Hudson at
the water wheel of Hussein's daughter's opulent estate.
While forces of evil continue to dent the armor in
America's determination to recast Iraq into a safe and
bountiful country for its citizens, one thing remains
as steadfast as in the days of the Pony Express - or
five years before that when in 1855 Congress purchased
camels used by the Army to deliver mail across the
United States' southwestern deserts - the mail will get
through.
The men and women who tackle the mountain of soldiers'
mail are the epitome of the military's resolve to do
well despite the odds, a determination in which they
have been joined by companies like KBR - Kellogg, Brown
and Root, a company made famous by the heroic escape
from terrorist hold of KBR employee and U.S. Southerner
Thomas Hamill - and the international air express
company DHL.
Among those determined soldiers was Army Major Foster
Hudson, a 1981 graduate of McKenzie High School who
continues to call McKenzie home despite the fact he now
resides in Nashville with Lynn, his wife of 19 years,
and their three children: Gene (17), Mary Knox (15),
and Taylor (12). His mother is Rita McSwain, a teacher
at Carroll Academy in Huntingdon, and his sister,
Carmen Beane, lives in Henry.
Hudson served 366 days in Iraq, 10 and a half months of
which were served in Baghdad as a member of the 461st
Personnel Services Battalion, an Army Reserve unit
based in Decatur, Georgia.
Deployed early in February, a week after Foster's first
drill with the unit, the group arrived in Iraq on
Easter Sunday 2003, their mission to run the joint
military mail terminal at the defunct Baghdad
International Airport (formerly known as Saddam
International.)
The airport had remained closed following its attack
during Desert Storm, when Foster served as a logistics
officer with the 101st Airborne Division. Now, the
monolithic dimensions of the buildings proved
hospitable to the equally vast task of distributing
mail to 11 Army post offices serving over 100,000
roving troops.
Complicating the mission was a three-month backlog of
mail: 100 20- and 40-feet railway containers full of
letters and packages from home.
"Mail had been trickling in very, very slowly and
because of moving forces it was very difficult to
locate units to distribute properly," Hudson says,
explaining, "A lot of mail was caught in a loop."
Distributed to an outpost in what could be a day and a
half journey only to discover the soldier was no longer
in that area, letters and packages would then be
re-routed to another location that might be "15 or 100
miles down the road."
"It was a perpetual loop that would add days to
delivery," Hudson continues. "At first, the time to get
mail to a soldier was approaching 31 days; by the time
we left it was roughly 10-14 days, so we cut it in
half."
The 330 personnel assigned to get the job done braved
spartan living conditions as well as the obvious risk
to life and limb to ensure the mail got through to
soldiers in the field. Showers were initially a bucket
of water with a hose attached. Clothing was washed at a
primitive, makeshift wash station using methods
familiar to earlier generations of Americans. Hudson
and others set up living quarters in one of the old
cargo terminals while others settled where they could,
taking advantage of empty mail containers and vacant
buildings. Food, at first, was MREs, meals
ready-to-eat. Eventually a dining hall, shower trailers
and other amenities improved the lot of the troops.
On the job, the words of Herodotus that in 1912 became
the slogan of post office determination - "Neither snow
nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these
couriers from the swift completion of their appointed
rounds" - took on new meaning with temperatures on the
tarmac, where mail was unloaded, reaching 145 to 150
degrees.
"It was hot enough that if you stood on the asphalt too
long your feet would sink into it, and when you walked
across it, it was like mud," Hudson illustrated.
Beginning in December, periodic rain showers were a
regular part of every day, with temperatures in the 80s
during the day, becoming windier in the afternoon and
20 to 25 degrees colder at night, the drastic change at
sunset making the air feel much colder than numbers
would indicate. A couple of times, temperatures
approached freezing.
Hudson credits reserve units from Florida and
California and an active duty unit from Fort Hood,
Texas for their perseverance in achieving the mission.
"They were a great group of kids," he says of the
predominantly youthful enterprise, though two
grandmothers were among the soldiers, "They were hard
workers who knew how to get a job done."
The unit distributed over 120 million pounds of mail
involving over 4800 railway containers and over 2500
separate individuals, with six or seven convoys a day
dispatched to deliver the mail over a 350 square mile
area of delivery.
"If you lined the conexes (20 and 40 feet railway
containers) end to end and stacked four high, they
would go from McKenzie to Henry and back three times,
roughly 60 miles; that's a long train," he expounds.
Already served by KBR truck drivers who delivered the
mail under military escort, by December military units
began transitioning the mail operation over to KBR,
with the 461st headquarters providing military
oversight.
"I learned to have a healthy respect for truck
drivers," declares Hudson.
Subtracting days from delivery, mail that was once
routed through Kuwait was flown directly to Baghdad and
Mosul by DHL.
The mission was not without casualties. During Hudson's
tour three lives - two civilians and one soldier - were
lost in the effort.
Notwithstanding the sacrifice, mail service was another
area in which the United States sought to improve the
quality of life for Iraqi citizens.
"When I left, we had just received our first shipment
of Iraqi mail; it was the first time they (the Iraqi
people) had any kind of postal service prior to Desert
Storm," he says, citing lack of facilities and "extreme
distrust" as reasons for the cessation of civilian mail
service during Saddam's regime.
"There was a great deal of fear that if the mail was
misread they might disappear and I had several Iraqi
citizens tell me that, that it was not uncommon."
Hudson said that while it was difficult to know who
could be trusted, he had enjoyed conversations with
highly educated individuals who had attended Iraqi
universities and who, "just like us had families they
were trying to support."
"They were making $400 to $600 a month and thought they
were rich," he says, explaining he had been told the
average Iraqi citizen earns $400 per year. However, he
continues, "They have a very unique barter system -
sheep for bread, corn for clothes - that still exists."
He recounts the pride of one father, a university
graduate, making $100 per week who "expressed a lot of
happiness" that his two daughters were able to attend a
school rebuilt by American soldiers that was stocked
with computers and other supplies.
"Both daughters were learning more and more on the
computers," Hudson says, describing their father's
satisfaction. "Then there are factions, insurgents, and
we're never quite certain who that we can trust.
"Many Iraqis who befriend Americans put their lives at
risk and the lives of their family as well," he says,
relating a café was bombed some two weeks after
American soldiers began frequenting the establishment,
and that a grocery store where soldiers shopped was
targeted as well.
Still, he says, "I think there is a small group of
individuals with the capability and training to conduct
the operations you're seeing today. How large that
group is I'm not qualified to even hazard a guess."
He believes the majority of Iraqi citizens have mixed
feelings concerning the continued presence of
Americans.
"They're not quite certain how our presence is going to
play out," he explains. "A large faction felt we let
them down by not going on to Baghdad during Desert
Storm. It hampers some of the progress we're doing.
There's a great feeling we will leave them dry and
someone will come in and take over in similar fashion
(to Hussein). But there's a great sense of relief as
they realize at least he would not be coming back."
Hudson relates great strides have been made in
providing new equipment for schools, that several power
plants had been rebuilt, and that Baghdad sewer systems
had been re-established.
"Baghdad and Mosul have twice the electrical power they
had before our presence," he says, his voice tinged
with pride.
The Department of State Web site (www.state.gov)
clarifies the accomplishments in education and
infrastructure, citing schools, clinics and hospitals
have been renovated and reopened with more than 2,300
schools rehabilitated and another 900 in progress and
4,500 new schools to be built over the next four years;
more than 32,000 secondary school teachers and 3,000
supervisors trained; entry-level teacher salaries
raised from $5 to $66; over eight million new textbooks
printed and distributed; and more than 180,000 desks,
61,000 chalk boards, 808,000 primary student kits and
81,000 teacher kits distributed. Additionally, Iraq's
2004 budget for health care is $950 million while
Hussein's regime spent just $16 million on health care
in 2002.
Hudson's father, Frank, is a civil engineer who, Foster
says, was on his way to Iraq as he was headed home. Two
of three half brothers, Christopher and Ben, are Air
Force officers while Doug Hudson resides in Paris.
Previously self employed, Hudson hopes to embark on a
new career with the Federal Emergency Management Agency
or Homeland Security. |
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2004
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2003
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2002
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2001
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Phone (731) 352-3323 or
Fax (731) 352-3322
washburn@mckenziebanner.com
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