Builder Constructionman Kasey Reed and Steelworker Constructionman Jody Gorsuch were the first female Seabees of Naval Mobile Construction Battalion 24 to complete training for The Lioness Program.

The Lioness Program, established in 2004, stations female troops with Marine combat units. The Lioness members therefore play a vital role in security and the fight against terrorism, by searching females and children, since Muslim cultural tradition dictates that men are not permitted to look up nor touch females.

When asked in an interview about her role as a Lioness, Reed commented, “It is a great experience, allowing women to show their importance in a joint effort with their male counter parts.”

Reed and Gorsuch participated in a week long training course instructed by the Marines. The Seabees received classes covering a wide array of topics from Marine combat skills to combat life-saving techniques, and personnel searches to basic Arabic language skills.

After the completion of the training program, Gorsuch stated, “Completing the program has provided me with a great sense of accomplishment through attaining these new skills and knowledge.” She went on to describe the experience as “empowering for women.”

Both women were excited and confident in regard to their new role and assignment with the Marines.

DVIDS
Story by Petty Officer 2nd Class Nicole Harmon

In April 2004, at the height of the insurgency in Iraq, five female soldiers unwittingly found themselves fighting alongside Marines in the battle for Ramadi and Fallujah.

Their story is told in a documentary film bearing their unit name, “Team Lioness,” which has been shown in private and public screenings throughout the United States and Europe in the past year. The Center for Women Veterans hosted the film at the Department of Veterans Affairs headquarters here yesterday.

“These stories are important to us at VA, because women veterans are coming to VA in great numbers, and we need to make sure we understand their experiences,” Betty Moseley Brown, associate director of the VA’s Center for Women Veterans, said as she introduced the film to an audience of about 50 viewers. “They became the first female soldiers in U.S. history to be sent into direct ground combat.”

Since the American Civil War, women have played important roles in the U.S. armed forces during war time — as nurses, journalists, pilots, engineers, logisticians and much more. But what they’re not, still, is infantry, armor or artillery — combat-arms specialties.

Still, many female servicemembers have been wounded and killed as a result of enemy fire. But it wasn’t until the start of the Iraq war in 2003 that women began finding themselves engaged in direct fighting.

Team Lioness pioneered women in direct fighting, although somewhat unintentionally. The women were intended to augment combat-arms platoons to search Iraqi women for money, weapons and drugs smuggling at checkpoints and on patrols. But eventually, their new roles in the ranks of combatant units led to ground combat alongside infantrymen, cavalrymen and artillerymen on the frontlines.

The film opens in a wilderness setting with b-roll of trees and damp leaves lining a still-flowing creek. The only sounds for several seconds are crickets chirping in the background. The tranquil silence of Mena, Ark., is suddenly broken by the boom of several shotgun rounds fired at a turtle in the creek.

The documentary’s introduction of Shannon Morgan, a former Army mechanic and Lioness, shows her innocence as a country girl, but with an obviously troubled past. Much of the film follows her around her family’s farm as she hunts squirrels with her shotgun and shares emotional testimonies of her time in Iraq.

“I don’t watch the news. I don’t read newspapers,” Morgan says in the film. “But the memories of war never go away.”

Morgan and the other Lionesses said they never expected to have to fire their weapon. But they quickly found themselves performing combat patrols, raids and house-to-house searches with the Marines in what was considered the most dangerous region of Iraq during what was arguably the most dangerous period of the entire campaign.

The Lionesses talk about their first enemy encounters and the stress of seeing dead bodies for the first time, while fighting to stay alive. Morgan recalled battling with the darkest side of war just before shooting an insurgent in a firefight.

“It’s something you learn to deal with,” Morgan said. “I don’t regret what I did, but I wish it had never happened.”

The soldiers also talk about the difficulties of learning the tactics and vocabulary of the Marines they worked with. The transition from their Army ways, plus the frequency of enemy engagements, didn’t allow for much of a learning curve to make up for their lack of knowledge of various weapons systems, Army Capt. Anastasia Breslow, a signal corps officer and former Lioness, said in the film.

“If everyone [in the platoon] had been hurt, I would have had no idea how to get back to the forward operating base,” Breslow said. “I didn’t know how to use the biggest casualty-producing weapon we had. I felt we needed to know more.”

Although the film takes place primarily on the home front with Lioness and family interviews, it brings to light the realities today’s generation of military women, and all combat support troops, face in Iraq and Afghanistan. The line that separates the front from the rear is blurred by the urban and guerilla warfare troops encounter fighting terrorism within the Middle East.

The nature of modern warfare — fighting counterinsurgencies in random locations, as opposed to nation states on prescribed battlefields — has made it difficult to define what constitutes a combat-arms military specialty and what doesn’t.

Military women today still cannot legally serve in combat-arms positions, but they serve competently and are trained in a variety of roles and capacities in Iraq and Afghanistan because of the lessons learned from the original Team Lioness. Their experiences prompted training for women that was never done before. They learn infantry tactics, qualify on more weapons, and are better prepared for the chance they may have to engage the enemy.

“As a result of their experiences, now each military service trains female servicemembers to be Lionesses, training that was not offered whenever this documentary was actually filmed,” Brown said, referring to the weapons and tactical training female military members now receive.

DoD
By Army Staff Sgt. Michael J. Carden
American Forces Press Service

Today’s Bloggers’ Roundtable was with Lieutenant Colonel Jeff Kulmayer, Chief of Reconciliation and Engagement, Multi-National Corps – Iraq, OPERATION IRAQI FREEDOM. He discussed the on-going transfer of the Sons of Iraq [SoI] to the Iraqi government.

The Sons of Iraq is a program developed by Coalition forces based upon the success seen in al Anbar Province with the Anbar Awakening. The Awakening was a largely volunteer effort that predated the SoI progam by nearly a year.

The SoI were locals who were recruited for infrastructure security duties within their community. They use their personal weapons and guard buildings, operate security checkpoints and patrol highways.

At its height, the SoI program employed 94,000 men in 9 provinces. Some 800 contracts were in place allowing these SoI to be paid by the Coalition. Overall hiring ended in June 2008.

Kulmayer told us that on October 1, 2008, the SoI in Baghdad were transferred to Iraqi authority. This was about 51,000 men hired under 385 contracts. Diyala Province transferred next, moving another 9,000 men onto the Iraqi payroll.

The Colonel stated that all the Sons of Iraq would be on the Iraqi payroll after March 1 of 2009, barring any complications. The Ministry of Defense has control over these units but the payroll come from the National Reconciliation budget. As of today’s interview, about 75% of the total number of SoI are being paid by the Iraqis.

The SoI are about 85% Sunni and the remainder are Shia. Kulmayer has seen little ethnic tension, either in the existing program or after the transfers to Iraqi authority.

The goal is to integrate about 20% of the SoI into the Iraqi Security Forces, and to find the remainder employment with the government or in the private sector. Training programs are being developed or underway. Until an alternate job is found, the SoI will continue their duties and be paid by the Iraqi government.

About 3,000 former SoI have been hired by the Iraqi Police, and another 1,600 have been found employment elsewhere. The process is slow but new programs will be coming on line as time passes.

The SoI have been in battle and have suffered because of it. In 2008, LTC Kulmayer reports about 500 were killed and about 750 wounded. Pay varies for the SoI, with those in Baghdad being paid $300 a month and those in al Anbar $130 monthly.

There are about 800 Iraqi women in the Daughters of Iraq program, 400 in Baghdad and the remainder throughout the country. The women are not part of the SoI integration plan. Those in Baghdad are under Iraqi authority and paid by them. The 400 women outside Baghdad remain controlled by and paid by the Coalition.

The Colonel made it quite clear that the Iraqi government sees the SoI as important and as a critical part of the nationwide reconciliation process. The Diyala Provincial Governor recently stated that the SoI ‘saved Diyala”.

Unemployment remains high in Iraq and complicates the placement of SoI. Security forces are at or near budgeted manpower levels which slows the integration of the 20% of SoI into the forces, as do educational requirements for many of the positions.

LTC Kulmayer was upbeat with his report. He continually remarked on the “amazing progress” made by the Iraqi government and sounded very encouraged by the anticipated future progress in integrating the SoI with the government.

For additional information:
Daughters of Iraq / Lioness program

SoI and Iraqi Police

Not everyone who dies in our fight against terror is a man. Here is the story of a woman, a Marine, who died in the service of her country. God bless Cpl. Jennifer M. Parcell.

Cpl. Martin R. Harris / Marine Corps via AP

The Department of Defense announced today the death of a Marine who was supporting Operation Iraqi Freedom.
Cpl. Jennifer M. Parcell, 20, of Bel Air, Md., died Feb. 7 [2007] while supporting combat operations in Al Anbar province, Iraq. Parcell was assigned to Combat Logistics Regiment 3, 3rd Marine Logistics Group, III Marine Expeditionary Force, Okinawa, Japan.

DoD

Cpl. Jennifer M. Parcell, a landing support specialist with Okinawa, Japan-based Combat Logistics Regiment 3, assumed her billet with the Lioness program Feb. 1 [2007], according to a spokesman for III Marine Expeditionary Force on Okinawa. The program uses female Marines from different military occupational specialties to search Iraqi woman at checkpoints.

Parcell, who was a few weeks shy of returning to Okinawa, was killed when an Iraqi woman she was searching detonated an explosive vest, the release said.

Marine Corps Times
By Beth Zimmerman

MySpace page

Cpl. Nicole K. Estrada, a 21-year-old from Rancho Cucamonga, Calif., received a kiss or “bosa” from a local boy in Rutbah, Iraq. During her time as a Lioness, Estrada befriended local women and practiced Arabic with some when they passed the traffic control point.

“Iraq is full of pop tarts.” In every mess hall, packed in every care package, sitting in a box at the back of our classroom and now written on the wall of a bathroom stall in Al Asad.

I went to Al Asad for Lioness training with Regimental Combat Team 5. I’m a combat correspondent without any combat experience. Although I’m now a journalist for the Marine Corps, I have always been a journal-keeper of some sort.

A combat photographer, a field wireman and a cook with 1st Marine Logistics Group also volunteered for the program. This was our opportunity to serve a more direct role in this war. As females, being a Lioness gave us a rare opportunity to work “outside the wire,” away from our desk jobs and away from working with tape recorders, cameras, wires and spatulas.

Our job was to search Iraqi females for suicide vests, fake identification and contraband at vehicle and entry control points in an effort to diminish the threat of female suicide bombers, while keeping in mind the gender sensitivities of the nationals.

The training course to prepare us for our duties included things we were already familiar with, such as rules of engagement, escalation of force, a combat lifesaver course and techniques from the Marine Corps Martial Arts Program we may need for self-defense. We fired our rifles and the AK-47s at the range, learned about sniper threats and the history of suicide bombers. We even had the opportunity to touch suicide vests retrieved after a failed terrorist attack.

Touching the vest brought the reality of the news straight to my hands. One was gray and made with fabric from a soldier’s gear. It made me think of the belts worn by some newborn babies to protect the skin still attached to their belly buttons. That started a train of thought leading me to think of all the mothers who may have lost someone in this war. They could use their anger as an excuse to make something similar to what I was holding.

At the time, news of female suicide bombers was everywhere. In February two women executed a deadly attack in a Baghdad pet market, killing 99 people. The attack was one of several in the past year, making it seem to me like humans, not vehicles, were becoming the preferred method of transporting explosives. It made me wonder if terrorists had exhausted one tactic and moved on to another.

The news was probably what kept me awake through all the hours of wearying power point presentations.

The Arabic-language class was probably the most helpful training we received. Everyday for at least an hour, Arabic greetings and commands were pounded into our brains. I would practice at night before going to sleep. Our lead training instructor emphasized the importance by making us state phrases repeatedly throughout the day.

“Oni imra’ah, elbis shari fowq,” we said. It means “I am a woman wearing my hair pulled back.”

It got to the point where I would forget the meaning of the sentence I was spitting out.

We learned of our destinations a day before our departure. We would be heading out to Rutbah. On the map, it seemed so far away from everything. It is a city in the far-western al-Anbar province and is a crossroads linking Baghdad to the Syrian border.

I packed light, bracing myself for the travel. Traveling with all my protective gear on and combat load is serious business in the heat but I couldn’t complain yet because I still had a busy month or two ahead of me. I would wear my 30-pound flak jacket several weeks and for several hours throughout the day.

We arrived in Rutbah after a short helicopter ride and a few hours later convoyed to the traffic control point where we’d be working.

My stomach turned when I saw a multitude of children run to the convoy to wave hello. It was just strange to me to see the large group of kids running around, like the entire city was their playground.

Apart from the children walking around, there were also sheep in the street, dozens of dirty dogs and trash everywhere. The trail of trash continued on to the traffic control point. The way it was caught on the barbed wires and lying against the protective barriers, it was like gaudy wallpaper for the perimeter.

The Lionesses we were relieving seemed excited to meet us, as they were ready to hand over responsibility of their post. They also gave us a tour of the area, showing us the mess hall, showers, an area recently damaged by mortars and finally, the female search area.

The post was nothing like what I thought it may look like, although I barely had an idea of what to expect. Anyways, I don’t think anything would have made feel completely safe given our situation and unfamiliar surroundings.

“All it would take is one,” a staff sergeant later put it. The sergeant on post spun us up on the way they did business there, the mood of the people they deal with and in return let us bombard her with questions.

Sometime between then and the morning, before falling asleep on our cots in a room made of sand-barrier walls, we decided our special word in case of an emergency at the post. If we ever felt threatened, our secret word to alert our partner would be ‘pop tart.’

It’s what we had become tired of eating and what we didn’t want the women to do – pop.

DVIDS