TIKRIT, Iraq — “You say a little prayer before going out,” Spc. Hamdan Jaludi said. “After that you just keep your eyes open.”

So begins the Combat Logistics Patrol, which is when heavily armed military vehicles escort a line of trucks that are moving supplies from point A to point B. Civilians drive the trucks, while the military vehicles are manned by soldiers ready to unleash a hail of bullets at anyone who tries to stop them.

It is a tense daily routine — so potentially deadly that “convoy” isn’t a word that does justice to the amped-up soldiers who guard it.

Exhausting? Not really, said the 22-year-old Jaludi.

“It’s your life you’re talking about,” he said.

All the roads in Iraq are strewn with places for insurgents to hide bombs or mount an ambush, which makes for high-sensory paranoia every time the soldiers leave the gate and results in high-fives and sighs of relief every time they return unscathed.

“It’s almost addictive, like a drug,” said 1st Lt. Brian Broas, a convoy commander with the 50th Main Support Battalion, 42nd Infantry Division. “No matter how short of a trip, you spend a day and a half preparing for it.

“During the actual convoy it’s exhilarating. You constantly have to push other thoughts out of your mind. Your perception is heightened. I can see how soldiers can get addicted to it.”

Tuesday’s convoy was typical, it ran from Tikrit to Kirkuk and back, about 65 miles and 2 hours, 45 minutes each way.

The route snaked through downtown Tikrit, Saddam Hussein’s hometown, and moved out onto a crusty two-lane road dubbed IED Alley for its history of roadside bombs that have been placed there.

The relatively small 22-vehicle convoy was delivering water, food, mail, vehicle parts and other necessities to Forward Operating Base Warrior, and planned to return other vehicles and payload back to1 the 50th MSB’s home base, FOB Speicher, one of the main supply hubs in north-central Iraq.

As soon as it left Speicher, soldiers in one armored Humvee noticed that no Iraqi children were out playing at their usual spot. A single shot was fired from the adjacent neighborhood of shacks. Maybe it was a sniper, maybe just someone harassing the troops, they said.

Troops carefully examined a single, leafy tree in the highway median as they approached, it’s an easy spot to plant a bomb.

“They gotta cut that down,” Broas barked over the roar of the Humvee’s engine.

The light traffic in Tikrit that morning was a troublesome sign.

Up in the Humvee’s turret, Jaludi waves at oncoming Iraqi motorists to pull off to the shoulder. Most do, some don’t. He swings his M249 Squad Automatic Weapon around and aims it at drivers who come too close.

The Humvee driver veers toward those who are driving toward the vehicle, and the aimed gun and big Humvee bumper cause the motorists to submit, pull over and stop.

“You gotta play chicken with them,” Jaludi said.

Some trash sitting by the side of the road causes Jaludi to duck down in his turret — just in case.

The convoy leaves Tikrit and enters a barren land of dirt and rocks, hills and crevices and the occasional sheep farmer.

Three men stand in a field. The suspicious Americans watch them closely, trying to determine if they are innocent bystanders or plotting insurgents.

Meanwhile, a piece of cargo comes unfastened from one of the trucks. At the next open stretch the convoy grinds to a halt and the soldiers scramble to set up a perimeter around the vehicles, guns pointing and eyes darting, while others clamp down the cargo.

The engines fire back up and the convoy rolls, and mile after mile each suspicious object and person draws a long hard stare. On the way back from FOB Warrior, a flare in the distance shoots into the sky as the convoy rolls toward it. It might be a signal by insurgents that the convoy is approaching. It might not be anything.

After the convoy, Jaludi, in his distinct New Jersey accent, describes a few of his thoughts while up in the turret.

“I had three of them just staring me down,” he said of the three men in the field. “Three farmers, their faces are covered up. And I look at them, and they’re just looking at you.

“The little shack by the side of the road? You see it every time. So maybe today I’m not going to look at it. That’s the day someone might be in there.”

Reading the road signs

To the trained eye, even something not there can be a potential threat. Around Iraq, troops must quickly decide what’s dangerous and what’s safe. Here are some of the common signs soldiers in the 50th Main Support Battalion look for:

No kids playing: If children are not outside playing in their normal locations, it could mean something is afoot.

Freshly dug holes: Insurgents use holes either on the pavement or alongside it to hide bombs along a convoy route. Most of Iraq’s roads, however, have broken sections and often are covered in a spider web of cracks. The shoulders also have many holes and crevices.

Trees, especially leafy ones: Many of the trees in the median and along the highways have been cut down because insurgents use them to hang bombs (at about 8- to 10-feet high, the same height of the exposed gunners riding atop a Bradley, Humvee or light-armored vehicle).

Crowded places: At places such as gas stations or busy intersections or markets, insurgents know that U.S. troops are hesitant to fire into a crowd.

Checkpoints: Insurgents have been targeting places where Iraqi security forces accumulate.

Dead animals on the road: The corpse of a big dog like those used by Iraqi sheep herders is large enough under which to hide a bomb. They’ve also been used to cause military vehicles to veer around the animal and onto a planted IED. Insurgents have also used live donkeys to carry IEDs.

Motorcyclists: Motorcycles are nimble enough to come from off the road into a convoy, from which the driver or passenger can lob a grenade then make a quick getaway.

People: Ones standing suspiciously next to the road could be a suicide bomber. A man standing from 20 to 100 yards off the road could be hiding a rocket-propelled-grenade and launcher.

Pieces of tire treads, rock piles or scrap metal: Iraq’s roadsides are strewn with them, and they have been used to conceal roadside bombs.

Vehicles suddenly appearing: It is understood that vehicles are supposed to pull off to the side of the road when a military-escorted convoy is coming through. If a person races up from an adjoining field, or if one veers toward a convoy or approaches rapidly from behind, it could be a car filled with explosives.

Flares, kites and puffs of smoke ahead: Insurgents have used them to signal that a convoy is approaching.

Unusual manmade rock formations or unnatural objects: They have been placed along roadsides by insurgents who use them as markers to time rocket-propelled-grenade launches or bomb detonations.

Narrow mountain passes: These areas are perfect places for ambushes.

— Charlie Coon

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