The Bremer Detail by John M. Del Vecchio Frank Gallagher Page B

Force. And being, by and large, a group of intelligent, self-confident, quick-witted, experienced, and extremely sarcastic guys, there was neither room nor time for guys who did not have truly thick skin. It was a comedy show that people outside our group often found irresistible. Of course, the outsiders also became targets of opportunity, and many gave as well as they took.
    No one at the palace really knew what to make of us. They knew why we were there, but Blackwater at this time meant little­ or nothing to most people. We were the quiet professionals­ struggling­ to find our place in the grand scheme of palace politics­ and palace life. We were trying to keep the ambassador alive while he kept a schedule we were convinced was designed to kill us. We were there when most people arrived for work in the morning, and we were still there long after they left for the evening. If they showed up for the midnight meal we were still there. Despite gruff, intimidating appearances most of the guys were charming and polite to everyone who approached, and they were always ready with a smile and a self-deprecating sense of humor. It did not take long to become well liked and a true part of the Coalition­ Provisional Authority (CPA) community. The guys were soon embraced not as knuckle-dragging Neanderthal­ morons but as serious professionals doing a serious job and having­ a good time while they were doing it.
    We began to get invited to the pool parties that were held every Thursday evening. We rarely got there when they started, but the guys would eventually show up and friendships were formed with many from the different groups—U.S. and foreign military types, U.S. and foreign politicians, career government workers, and some remarkable civilians who had volunteered to be part of this massive undertaking—the rebuilding of Iraq.
    Coordinating with other groups that were to attend a function with Ambassador Bremer was one of the toughest parts of my job. It involved talking to other security teams, the press, military leaders, and anyone else who was attending. As the team protecting the highest-ranking man in the country, we always had final say on all security arrangements that would affect our ability to make the event as safe as possible for the ambassador. There was always a good bit of give-and-take on all sides. As a result people began to trust us. They realized we were only looking out for the ambassador and not trying (intentionally) to make anyone’s job more difficult. We recognized as well that they had a job to do. By working together we could all do our jobs better.
    And many of the people we had to liaise with were attractive females.
    The ratio of men to women was roughly forty to one. Each woman there probably had in the vicinity of a hundred or so guys trying to woo her heart. My guys were no exception. But they were experienced hunters who knew how to charm. With their past lives as special operations ass kickers and the aura they currently had as Blackwater PSD team members, they did not lack the confidence to try to claim a sizable share of the attention of the limited supply of the fair gender.
    Realizing quickly that this could pose some problems, we had to establish ground rules to keep guys from fighting over the same lady. The rules were pretty easy to understand and eventually became ingrained in how we dealt with relationships. All women were considered fair game until a member of the team slept with her. After that she was off-limits to all other Blackwater guys. A gentleman’s agreement if you will. And it worked. There were very few fights or arguments over women. We all knew and obeyed the rules. The woman chose the guy she wanted; we respected her decision, and the other wolves left her alone.
    About a week or so after we took over the PSD duties, the ambassador was called back to Washington. This gave us a chance to finally test fire and zero our weapons, work on our formations and evac