I reported to Andrews Air Force Base on Saturday morning to begin my fifth journey to the war in Iraq. Let me say at the outset of this account, we have a long way to go in Iraq. There is tough, difficult work ahead. But let me also say, with conviction that we are making progress on the ground in Baghdad and Ramadi, and I believe there is reason for cautious optimism about the President’s surge. Despite all you see and hear in the media, as I saw on the faces of hundreds of ordinary Iraqis on the streets of Baghdad, there is a springtime of hope beginning in Iraq.

On my first trip to the region, I traveled with the Speaker of the House, Dennis Hastert. I have led several trips with other members of Congress. This trip would be at the side of the most stalwart voices in Congress supporting the war in Iraq, Senator John McCain.

John McCain is a national figure and a maverick. We have had our differences on issues but never on the object of this journey. John McCain, himself a former Navy airman and Vietnam P.O.W., is the third generation of his family’s extraordinary American military leaders. He has never wavered in his belief in the justice of our cause in Iraq. He was the first leader in Congress to call for a surge of U.S. forces in Iraq. He commands the respect of our generals on the ground and the Iraqi leaders who recognize him as a national leader in America. I think his personal story of heroism and his lineage also give him real currency in the Arab world. Sheikh Sattar greeted him in Ramadi with the words, “we know of you and know of your proud family of warriors and we respect you.” It was an extraordinary privilege for this small-town boy to travel with this national figure for his first visit to Iraq since the surge began. This would be a journey of firsts.

Our delegation included Senator McCain, Senator Lindsey Graham of South Carolina and Arizona Congressman Rick Renzi. We flew over in a Gulfstream 5 Air Force jet and spent the many hours in planning sessions and rest in anticipation of two full days in Iraq.

Arriving in Kuwait, we boarded a KC-130 cargo plane and flew to Baghdad. From the moment of our arrival, I could sense that things were different in Baghdad. General David Petraeus met us at the airport, and, instead of boarding helicopters to the Green Zone, we boarded vehicles and drove into town. I hadn’t done this since my first trip several years ago. We usually took a helicopter downtown, but not this time. During our briefing we learned of the progress of the surge of U.S. and Iraqi forces into Baghdad. For the first time ever, U.S. and Iraqi forces have set up dozens of joint security stations throughout this city. They live at these stations and patrol from these stations together for weeks at a time. We learned that, while the fight is far from over, violence is down in large parts of Baghdad. Then we went and saw the progress for ourselves.

We took a short helicopter ride across the river to a joint operating center in the heart of Baghdad. Below us we could see streets filled with cars, people bustling about their daily affairs…hardly the war zone that one expects to see from the majority of press coverage of the war. We saw a number of large, open-air markets teeming with shoppers. Thanks to the placement of barricades to prevent car bombs, the vendors and the buyers are returning to these markets. General Petraeus invited us to board a few humvees and do a little shopping ourselves.

We pulled up to a bustling marketplace whose card tables, tents and shops lined either side of this street now closed to all but foot traffic. This was the site in February of a horrendous car bomb that killed more than 100 innocent Iraqis but with the barriers up, the people are back.

We exited the vehicles and, along with a squad of military security, we spent more than an hour mixing and mingling with the locals. While we were instructed to leave our bulletproof vests on, General Petraeus took off his helmet and urged us to leave our helmets in the vehicles. Senator McCain threw himself into the crowd like he was in New Hampshire. I followed as he bought a ball cap, and haggled over rugs with a few Iraqi merchants.

Before I left for Baghdad, my 12-year-old daughter asked me to buy her a souvenir and I had responded by reminding her gently that I was visiting Iraq and that wouldn’t be possible. As I stood on the street, I decided to come through after all. I bought my kids some rugs in Baghdad, Iraq. The merchant almost refused to take my money. He kept touching his heart and shaking his head no. His eyes, like so many others, radiated with affection and appreciation. He wanted to give me the rugs. I insisted that he accept my ten dollars and, happily, he relented.

And so it went, up and down the street, in between tents and tables, squeezing past pedestrians to inspect the offerings in one booth after another, we milled around this marketplace in downtown Baghdad for more than an hour. I told reporters afterward that it was just like any open-air market in Indiana in the summertime. I didn’t mean that Baghdad was as safe as the Bargersville Flea Market; I just meant that that was what it looked and felt like…lots of people, lots of booths and a friendly relaxed atmosphere. We were the first group of American dignitaries ever to tour parts of Baghdad since the beginning of the war. While the fact that we were able to do so was remarkable, the people impacted me the most.

When I am home in Indiana people who know I have been to Iraq often ask, “But do they appreciate what we’ve done?” That day, as we milled around this open-air market, I encountered nothing but warmth and friendship. Three little boys lined up just to shake my hand as I walked by, with their mother smiling nervously behind them. As we passed shop after shop, people waved, touched their hearts and expressed a greeting in Arabic and many just said “hello.”

We paid our respects at the site of the February bombing and I breathed a prayer for the names listed on bed sheets fluttering in the wind. The scars on the buildings went up six stories on both sides of the street. It must’ve been a horrific explosion and yet, thanks to the security provided by U.S. and Iraqi forces, the people came back to the market.

As we boarded our vehicles, I hoped for the day I might come back without a security detail, the day ordinary Americans could come to visit this fair city and receive the warmth and gratitude we experienced. As I dwelled on that thought, I noticed a young man standing by the curb wearing a baseball cap with the Indiana Pacers logo on it. I smiled to myself and felt hope for the first time in a long time and, with all my heart, I think many of the Iraqis I met are feeling hope as well.

While we dined with the Vice President of Iraq, Cabinet officials and the Secretary of Foreign Affairs, as always, my meals with Indiana soldiers meant the most to me personally.

We flew to Ramadi on Monday and, after meeting with U.S. and Iraqi military officials about the progress we are making across Al Anbar province, we headed to the mess hall to dine with the troops. As ever, the military rounded up a group of Hoosier soldiers for a candid chat over lunch. I am always amazed at the selflessness of these men and women. Here and in Tikrit, I would make our delegation late because I just couldn’t resist the opportunity to talk with our heroes on the ground and get their take on the war and answer questions about home.

In Ramadi, I met again Chaplain Jim Russell of Anderson, Indiana, a stout and courageous man of faith who I have met here and at home several times. He asked me to pass along birthday wishes to his daughter Megan on Friday…she’ll be 14, just about the age of my oldest daughter. Wearing the uniform, a half a world away, missing his daughter’s birthday and no complaints. I told him I would take care of it.

Then there was 2nd Lt. Walls, a medical officer from Evansville, Indiana. I told her I would be in Evansville next week and would try to give her folks a hug. She told me of the hard part of her job: “the kids.” Little children brought in, the victims of enemy car bombs and gunfire. She told how the clinic took in a newborn injured by insurgent violence but had no baby formula. She emailed her folks about it and, to no Hoosier’s surprise, the care packages of baby formula, diapers and toys descended on that clinic from Evansville like an avalanche. I love Indiana.

I got so caught up getting a picture taken with these heroes in front of a Colts poster that I didn’t see our delegation leave. By the time I got to the bus, everybody was seated and waiting. I ran to the bus and jumped up the steps as the bus rolled. I made the senators and the generals wait while I talked to the folks back home. I just smiled to myself at the thought of it. It felt about right in my book.

When we arrived in Tikrit, I had dozens of Hoosiers waiting to chat in a conference room. All these brave men worked in support and logistics for the U.S. Army in Tikrit. A common theme there, as at lunch in Ramadi, was “the American people are not getting the whole story in the media.” I had one soldier tell me, “when I go home on R&R, I tell people ‘it’s nothing like what you see on TV, there’s a lot of good happening over here that never gets reported.’” Another soldier, on his fourth tour with the National Guard, asked me with exasperation in his voice, “When will it be enough? …when will we be done?” I told him, very respectfully, I thought we ought to stick around just long enough to where these people could defend themselves and not a minute longer. Many in the room nodded and murmured their assent.

They asked about the debate in Congress over timelines for withdrawal. They were very aware of the flagging support for the war in Congress so I turned it back on them and asked, “How does a timetable for withdrawal affect you operationally?” The first Hoosier to speak said, “It really hurts morale.” Another soldier said, “My family back home likes all the talk of ending the war, but it really makes me mad.”

I got so caught up in our chat, as before, I was running late and the staff yanked me out. But I still stole a few minutes for pictures and expressions of gratitude to everyone I could grab. I feel so small around these soldiers. So much more than Washington, D.C. will ever be, they are America. I will pray for these men and women that God would bless them and keep them and bring them home safe.

As our KC-130 lifted off, I was more proud than ever to represent the United States of America and the extraordinary men and women of the Armed Forces serving Indiana in Iraq. We have profound challenges standing between us and the peace and democracy for which the people of Iraq yearn. There are tough and heartbreaking days ahead, but I have hope. I have seen the impact of the surge firsthand, I have walked among the Iraqi people and spoken with elected leaders, generals and sheiks, and I have seen determination in the eyes of the American soldier.

Freedom can win in Iraq if we do not grow weary in doing the good things that our soldiers and the Iraqi forces are doing with new strategies and new leadership…if we do not lose heart as the enemies of freedom and civilization unleash their violence and hatred of freedom. The Bible says, “and let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart.” That will be my prayer.

Mike Pence
April 3, 2007
Iraq