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HUMORLESS THEN, FUNNY NOW: MY CONTRACTING NIGHTMARES Major Edwin Ruckwardt United States Air Force

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ver have days at work when nothing goes right? As a deployed Contingency Contracting Officer, it was a frequent experience. This is my memoir of the most memorable work disasters while I was deployed. Looking back at the experiences, I can laugh now; however, at the time it caused many personal frustrations along with commanders having one-way “mentoring” sessions (or as some call it, butt-chewings) with me. On a positive note, I have developed very thick skin and I do not get frustrated as easily. I guess every story has a positive aspect; you just have to wait a couple of years and get lots of therapy (just joking) to discover those aspects. The following experiences taught me to take culture into consideration. Many people tend to neglect culture either because of ignorance or of being naïve. These stories are mainly of my failures due to not taking culture into consideration. The first two stories happened during my first deployment, so I will give you a quick background. MARINES WELCOME THE AIR FORCE TO IRAQ In 2004, I was a young and very eager Lieutenant deployed for the first time to Camp Fallujah. I was assigned to the 1st Marine Expeditionary force, specifically to the Iraqi Security Forces unit. The mission was to train, equip, and cultivate the Iraqi armed forces. I was excited to be part of the unit and was excited to contribute. I was the only contracting officer and AF member in the unit. I fell under S-4, the Logistics Branch, which was led by Marine Major Jon Rafftery. During this deployment, I concluded that Major Rafftery was not loved as a child and may have been related to the Grinch. He had the quickest temper and could make the toughest of Marines cry. Everyone in the unit avoided dealing with the Major, especially when delivering bad news. On a positive note (heavy sarcasm), the good Major was my boss

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for my first deployment, which was sure to be riddled with a couple of mistakes. I was determined to perform well during this deployment, especially after all the Air Force jokes I had to endure from Major Rafftery. On a side note, I quickly realized after an hour-long “mentoring session” that Major Rafftery did not like my Marine jokes; he said I was being insubordinate and disrespectful. Now that you have an idea of my deployed environment, let us move on to my first story. IF AT FIRST YOU DON’T SUCCEED; FLUSH, FLUSH, FLUSH AGAIN After three days, I received my first requirement. We had travelled to a site where an Iraqi border enforcement station was being established near the Syrian border. My job was to renovate and convert an abandoned building into an Iraqi border enforcement station. Additionally, I had to set up all other basic life support requirements from soup to nuts. After being at this location for three weeks, we were almost done. The final items, portable toilets, were delivered and being inspected by the good Major. However, I knew something was wrong when I heard Major Rafftery yelling profanities. Instantly, I froze! He ended his tirade with “get me that Air Force retard now!” My mind was racing to search for a mistake. Gunny Burke tapped me on the shoulder and said “Major Rafftery would like to see you” and as I started walking he yelled “Dead man walking!” Everyone laughed, except for the Air Force retard. As I approached I was even more frightened because the Major seemed so calm. He asked me “Son, do you know the difference between Eastern and Western?” Before, I could even answer his face turned beet red and he yelled “the answer is CULTURE, you @#$*#@% dim wit!” He continued to mentor me for twenty minutes. Then something strange happened, I started focusing on his face and was overly concerned that the Major was suffering from hypertension. When he stopped, I snapped out of my concerning thoughts and started realizing I had no clue of what I had done. I hustled back to the tent to find the Gunny, in hopes of finding out why the Major was so very mad. The Gunny was indulging in the fact that I was clueless of my mistake. After a lot of teasing, the Gunny informed me that I had purchased 80 “Western” portable toilets, not Eastern style portable latrines. I asked “There is a difference? “ I knew I would learn a lot during my first deployment, but I never thought my first lesson would be the differences between Eastern and Western restrooms and hygiene techniques. This was a crappy way to learn about culture, now onto another hard lesson on culture. SAY WHAT? INSHALLAH…IN-SHALL-WHAT? Still early on my first deployment, I got a harsh indoctrination to the word “Inshallah.” Through my daily interactions with locals, I began to notice that the Iraqis would end their phrases with “Inshallah.” I asked the interpreter the meaning of the word and he said it meant: “God willing.” Being a man of faith, I thought that was very cool; that is, until I got “Inshallah’d”, a term I coined for being duped. I had a vendor, Yusif, who was delivering some dearly needed petrol to one of the biggest Iraqi Security Forces camps. This camp was dependent on generators, which guzzled tons of gas. The camp only had enough gas to last a few days. The petrol situation was very important and being briefed daily to the 1st Marine Division Commander. In my head, I was ecstatic because I was going to redeem myself for the portable toilet fiasco...I think you can see where this is going. Anyways, Yusif and I met to go over the final details. Using an interpreter, I expressed to Yusif that the delivery of gas would have to be on a certain date and could not be late. His response “I understand. I will be on-time, Inshallah.” There is that word again, inshallah. Obviously Yusif was a man of faith, so he was a man to be trusted, right? I had better start explaining myself. Since I was so new the only interaction I had had with Yusif was paying him for contracts already fulfilled. I remembered that Yusif was very punctual for payments, so I assumed that he would be prompt with his deliveries. Long story short, Yusif did not deliver by the due date. After another oneway “mentor session” with Major Rafftery, I had the translator call Yusif. His explanation was “I said

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Inshallah. It was not God’s will for me to bring you the petrol today, but maybe tomorrow, Inshallah.” I snapped and yelled to the interpreter “NO INSHALLAH!” The interpreter did not translate the message; however, I was sure that Yusif needed no translation. I then remembered that we owed Yusif money for two other contracts. I had the interpreter call him back and to set up an appointment for payment. I made sure the translator said “Inshallah” at the end of the conversation. Of course Yusif was very prompt to collect his payment, but entering Camp Fallujah was not an easy task and required a lot of time. He entered my office and looked exhausted from the “hurry-up and wait” security process. I informed Yusif I forgot to route the paperwork and then I said: “Inshallah”, it is not God’s will for you to receive money today, but maybe tomorrow, Inshallah.” He was not a happy man, he was yelling and my interpreter did not want to translate his rant … he did not have to, I got Yusif’s message. He was determined to get his money that day, so I told him if he could get his company to deliver the petrol that day I would pay. Yusif got paid that day. Ah, the power of negotiations or some may argue the power of money. I learned all cultures have differences; however, there are factors that are shared by all humans no matter what culture. AFGHANISTAN The next story had taken place in the Helmand Province in Southern Afghanistan during my third deployment. It was 2009 and the U.S. Marines had begun a major offensive in the province. Thousands of Marines poured into the Taliban’s strongest controlled area which was also one of the world’s largest opium poppy producing areas. The objective was to eradicate insurgents from the region before Afghanistan presidential elections. My mission was to establish Camp Dwyer to accommodate the surplus of Marines in the region. THE HANDS-ON PROJECT It was July in Afghanistan; the heat was very unforgiving and was over 120 degrees. The camp was just being established so a lot of traditional infrastructure was lacking. One of these components was a soak lot, which was a waiting area for trucks that were delivering contracted goods to the base. Traditionally, most camps have some type of shelter for the truck drivers to escape the weather elements and comfortably wait for the security process. Dealing with the drivers daily, they would complain to me about the heat. So I got a project funded to erect a 100-man tent in the soak lot. The tent was to be furnished by the government. I thought this project would be a good measurement of a new construction company in the village. The soak lot was outside the perimeter of the base, so security was a concern and required a detailed plan for execution. I had submitted a security detail for no more than two hours. The security commander told me “two hours is excessive,” but would approve it. My explanation was that the contractor was new and would also probably need some time to on/off load a forklift. I informed the contractor that I thought a forklift would be needed and he told me not to worry. The project was to have started promptly at 0900, but there was no sign of the contractor. At 0945 a Marine saw something on the horizon, it was about 20-30 local men walking towards our location. The Marine in charge of the security detail asked me if that was the contractor. I said “I hope not.” But in my gut I knew it was the contractor and that this was going to be a long day. This had been so surreal that I felt like I had been in a scene in a movie. As they approached I saw the owner of the company. We greeted each other and I asked: “Where is your heavy equipment and tools?” He said that all he needed was hard working men. The pictures will tell the rest of the story, which involved me reading instructions and providing directions like a foreman for 7 hours. Learning about the differences and similarities of cultures was humorless then but funny now! I hope my stories have inspired people to think about culture, especially when planning a military mission. My stories are just a drop of water out of an ocean. Hence, the need for military

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planners and leaders to understand how culture affects operations. Leaders who neglect culture will experience unanticipated consequences, which will have a ripple effect and could negatively affect the mission.

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