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What kills? Complacency

Ramadi, Iraq — Dec. 14, 2005

It’s on just about every door in camp and on signs stuck into the soft sand flanking the hard top streets weaving through this forward operating base.

“Complacency Kills.”

At first I didn’t understand why the signs are all over the place. I mean, how could anyone ever get complacent in such a stressful place? Iraq — and Ramadi in particular — is a battlefield so dangerous, life and limb so randomly at risk, it’s hard to believe that people would need reminding to keep their senses acute.

But after several days — and nights — on patrol with the Marines of Weapons Company, 3rd Battalion, 7th Marines, I can see how complacency can set in.

It’s scary around here at night. No one is on the streets, and the avenues and alleyways these Marines patrol in their armored Humvees are dark. You get the sense that, around any corner, an artillery shell could be buried in a pile of trash, and all it would take to turn your vehicle into a smoldering pile of twisted iron would be the simple flip of a switch. That keeps these Marines alert.

But as the hours drag on, and the discomfort of sitting in these vehicles sets in, it’s surprising how blunted your awareness can get. The fog of sleep settles in. That bag in the middle of the road probably isn’t a bomb, right? We took all that time looking at the last one and it wasn’t anything. Let’s just drive on by.

But the noncommissioned officers and officers on patrol keep those words of wisdom at heart. “Complacency Kills.” They check the bag anyway. They detour around what they can’t defuse. They wait for the explosive ordnance disposal technicians to come in — even if it’s already 1 a.m.

Daytime patrols present their own subtle ways of lulling one into complacency. Seeing all the local Iraqis milling around doing their daily business, shopping at the markets, coming home from school, you’d almost get the impression that things around here aren’t so dangerous. The kids wave — which they tend to do everywhere U.S. troops are on patrol — and, more importantly, the adults don’t discourage them. Some of the older folks even wave themselves. Makes you feel like nothing can go wrong.

Remember, though, “Complacency Kills.” The Marines keep their edge. Waving back to the crowds of kids; stopping to hand out “information operations” gear: cheap Timex watches and candy. Still ever watchful for a rocket-propelled grenade shooter, a bomb triggerman.

“Yeah, we lit up an RPG gunner a couple weeks ago in this neighborhood,” one of the Marines told me as we rounded a dirt lot piled with trash, sheep scaring up clouds of flies as they grazed on the rotting heaps. How could anything happen with all these people around … women and children? I wondered.

“You’d be surprised,” the Marines told me.

As they’re constantly reminded, complacency kills.