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

seemed to think our PSD team was there to support the new air wing of Blackwater. This was the first time that Blackwater had an aviation division, and, by extension, the first time that air power would be used to provide support to a PSD team on the ground. Just like when building the PSD team, we would have to develop the protocols for this new air resource. First these pilots wanted me to give them dedicated door gunners who would report only to them. When I told them I didn’t have sufficient manpower to do that, they suggested I cut back on either the detail or the advance team. Really? How would that make sense? Where did they think we were working, Myrtle Beach? I told them when the guys from the villa were off duty, they could use them. It was the best I could do until we got more people.
    Then they informed me that, per FAA regulations, they could only be on duty for eight hours each day. WTF? We were in Iraq, not Nebraska! Again, I told them we worked whenever the ambassador worked. They wanted precise takeoff times and wanted to know exactly when they should be back on station before the ambassador left a meeting. I’ll never know what fairy tales they had been told, but they had obviously not been given a clear picture of what we were really doing. Meetings lasted until the ambassador was done. Sometimes they ended twenty minutes early; sometimes they ran two hours over. Ambassador Bremer was trying to rebuild a country, and a few of the pilots were worried about crew rest? I was beside myself. One pilot actually told me to tell the ambassador that he had to follow his schedule exactly or it would affect the pilots’ performance. It was an amazing conversation. He’s looking at me like I’m crazy, and I’m looking at him like he has three heads. I looked around for a Candid Camera crew. There was no way he could be serious. But he was.
    At this point I wasn’t even sure how to best utilize them in their support role. A few days later one of the pilots came over to talk to me. Steve “Hacksaw” Chilton knew I was reaching a breaking point, and he asked me to let him massage his boss. I knew from word of mouth Hacksaw was a straight shooter and a damn good pilot, and I knew if he told me something could be done and that he could do it, it would get done. He was also, far and away, the best pilot in the group.
    Somehow he fixed the issues. How he did it will always remain a mystery. I did hear a few stories of rather heated arguments and offers to “step outside” to handle the differences of opinion. Fortunately they kept that strictly to themselves.
    The first Thursday the pilots were in-country I invited them over to my trailer for some adult beverages; I was told curtly by the lead pilot that his guys would not be attending. I responded in kind. I said they now worked for me; I was the AIC, and he and his guys fell under my command, not vice versa. He did not come over, but a few of the others did. It was the start of a very contentious relationship between him and me. I was never happier than when he rotated out. Eventually I learned that his biggest issue stemmed from taking directions from me, a former Marine Corps NCO, an enlisted man. He was a retired army colonel, and he truly believed that officers were superior to enlisted men in everything and in every way. The fact that I had been doing protection operations for years for a former cabinet-level government official meant nothing to him. As an officer he automatically knew more about protection than I ever would.
    The other pilots were great guys—absolutely fearless. Men of character who would do anything asked of them whenever it was asked. And ask we did, and answer the call they did.
    At this time Blackwater had another team in country—The Dirty 30. They worked under a different contract and provided support for a different agency. Most were former spec-op guys (Recon, SEALs, and Special Forces) and when they heard about our Little Birds