The Musayyib Power Plant at dawn. (Teri Weaver / S&S)
The Musayyib Power Plant at dawn. (Teri Weaver / S&S)
Some of the plant’s 1,000 workers walk toward their worksite just after 8 a.m. Soldiers from the 1st Battalion, 501st Parachute Infantry Regiment search the workers as they enter the base. (Teri Weaver / S&S)
Rusty, upended barrels litter the plant. “Trucks’ll come with oil just spilling out the back of it,” said Maj. Dave Butler, 32, of Belfort, N.Y. (Teri Weaver / S&S)
FORWARD OPERATING BASE ISKANDARIYAH, Iraq — The struggle for power throughout Iraq motivates militias and crowds morgues.
But as this U.S. military-controlled base on the Euphrates River south of Baghdad has found, the struggle for power can create a tiny oasis.
The Musayyib Power Plant sits in the midst of the home of the 1st Battalion, 501st Parachute Infantry Regiment at Iskandariyah. Its four stacks blow exhaust for a smoking engine that, with its promise of air conditioning and television and lights in nearby areas, wards off mortar and rocket attacks.
But that power, literally, only goes so far, according to Abbas Obed Omran, the manager of the plant, who has worked there for 20 years.
After months of retooling aging parts and working with a fledging government, the 1,000 workers at the plant are able, on some days, to fire up all four stacks. Still, the plant only produces 800 megawatts of power, two-thirds of what it was built for, according to Abbas.
And worse, two major distribution lines that send electricity to Baghdad are destroyed, the manager says. So that plant — which could produce about 10 percent of Iraq’s power needs — remains crippled by the system around it, Abbas and officers here say.
“Some places in the area get as much as 12 hours,” said Maj. Dave Butler, 32, of Belfort, N.Y., who works with the power plant to manage its space and the military’s space on the shared compound. “But it’s not that reliable.”
For months, other American officials have been trying to power up another plant on the base that uses jet engines to burn natural gas. Butler says it’s a priority for both governments, but it remains off-line.
For now, it’s the fossil-fuel burning Musayyib plant that churns smoke and lights the skies. Soldiers from the 1st Battalion meet 700 to 1,000 workers at the gate each morning. They search the workers twice, check their bags and badges, take their cell phones, and let them inside. The battalion has controlled the FOB since last fall, and there has never been an incident with the workers on base, Butler said.
But he admits the arrangement isn’t perfect. A few of the workers actually occupy an office in the basement of the battalion’s headquarters. Butler is working to move them out and closer to the base.
And the power plant, which runs on crude or heavy oil, creates a mess. Overturned, rusty barrels litter the area. The workers wear little protection against the chemicals they use, Butler says. When he asked them how they treat a possible contamination, he was told the workers drink milk.
The oil deliveries, however, are not in short supply, Abbas said. Butler agreed. “Trucks will come with oil just spilling out the back of it,” the major said.
Abbas said he believes 9,000 megawatts are needed to fulfill Iraq’s electrical needs; Butler says he has heard numbers as high as 11,000. One megawatt, on average, would supply continuous power to about 500 Iraqi families, Abbas said.
When asked how soon the country could produce the electricity needed, Abbas paused. He says two things need to happen in tandem: All current plants, like the one he manages, need to be upgraded and fully maintained; second, new power plants need to be built.
It could happen, he said, in two years. But that would also require a more mature government and, most of all, safety.
“Because I live close to the power plant, I feel safe,” Abbas said through a translator. “But other people, no. Nobody can feel safe.”
