In his book, Frank Gallagher has captured all the drama and difficulties of operating in a violent war zone, post-Saddam Iraq. As head of my personal security detail, Mr. Gallagher vividly captures the tense and dangerous duty he and his dedicated colleagues from Blackwater carried out under the most trying circumstances. On a number of occasions, some of them revealed in this book, Gallagher and his team literally saved livesmine and othersthrough their quick and professional reactions to danger. If you want a flavor of life in post-invasion Iraq, this is the book for you.
L. Paul Bremer III
The Bremer Detail
Protecting the Most Threatened Man in the World
A Memoir
Frank Gallagher
Agent-in-Charge,
The Bremer Security Team, Iraq
with John M. Del Vecchio
author of The 13th Valley
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
Copyright 2014 by Frank Gallagher
Cover photograph by Christina Estrada Teczar
Cover design by Neil Alexander Heacox
ISBN: 978-1-4976-4397-0
Published by Charlie Fox Trot Books, LLC
www.charliefoxtrotbooks.com
Distributed by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
345 Hudson Street
New York, NY 10014
www.openroadmedia.com
For My Mother, Florence Carroll Gallagher
Widowed in her early forties with five kids (three sons, two daughters), my mother never quit. She always set the bar high, encouraging us to do all that we could and to do it to the best of our abilities. She is also the type of person whom you never asked a question of if you were afraid to hear the answer. You could always expect complete, total, brutal honesty. Of course, this ended up with all three of her sons carrying guns for a living: John (retired after twenty-seven years in U.S. Army Special Forces), Jim (retired after twenty years with NYPD, thirteen years in narcotics), and me. Since 11 September 2001, she has had one or more sons continually working in some of the worst parts of the world. Sometimes more than one of us was away at the same time. Known to my Connecticut friends as Babe and to my Frankwater (the call sign that I would eventually be given in Iraq) friends as Mama G, shes a legend.
A frequent conversation that she and I have had:
Mom: Frank, do you remember your eighth-grade graduation?
Me: Yes, Mom.
Mom: What did Sister Ann say about the parable of the talents?
Me: I remember.
Mom: Well, are you ever going to write that book?
Me: Yes, Mom.
Mom: Well, I hope you finish it before I die.
Me: Yes, Mom, I will.
Well, Mom, here it is! Thanks for all the support. I love you.
PRELUDE
After the United States invaded Iraq in 2003, and before power was turned over to the Iraqi Interim Government (IIG) the following June, American ambassador L. Paul Bremer III ran the country. As administrator of the Coalition Provisional Authority, Ambassador Bremeressentially president, prime minister, Congress, the Supreme Court, and chancellor of the treasuryruled by decree. From his first controversial orders banning the Baath Party and dismantling Iraqs previous military, insurgent groups threatened his life. The danger never slowed him down. Each day he made two, three, as many as eight trips outside the Green Zone into the violent, post-Saddam state to meet with members of the Iraqi Governing Council (IGC), to begin restructuring the economy, to assist in the development of a new constitution, to design the privatization of industry and national resources, or to prepare new departments and bureaus for the day the nation would again govern itself.
With such power, in such a hostile environment, the Secret Service soon declared him the most-threatened man in the world. Protecting him was my job. I had known him from earlier assignments, having spent eight years providing security for Dr. Henry Kissinger and for Ambassador Bremer when he was managing director of Kissinger and Associates.
But this was different. No civilian-led protective security detail (PSD) had ever been charged with shielding a titular head of state. Daily I got intelligence briefs basically saying, Uh not sure how to tell you this, but today you are all going to die.
But Im getting ahead of myself. Let me back up to the beginning. This is my story, and the story of how a group of dedicated protection professionals managed to do something they never thought possible. My name is Frank Gallagher, and I was the agent-in-charge of The Bremer Detail.
Thursday, 21 July 2003
I woke at 0800 and began my daily coffee intake. I fed the dogs, read the newspaper, contemplated what time I would head to the gym. It was a bright summer morning. After working nearly nonstop for nine years, I was taking a few months off to recharge my batteries. My wife, Kim, was upstairs cleaning; and our daughters, Kelli, twenty, and Katherine, fourteen, were still asleep. Ah, youth! What time I would hit the gym was just about the toughest decision I planned to make all day. Lets seego at 1400? 1500?
I could hear Kim vacuuming. As a school administrator she too had a summer break. The novelty of my being home had not yet worn off. She was used to the prolonged absences that were always a part of my work. The phone rang. When I was home, Kim was accustomed to the roughly forty calls I would get each day from my brothers in the executive protection world. She knew many of them by their voices. I heard her switch off the vacuum and answer. By her tone I guessed it was a voice she did not recognize. This was confirmed when she called down without mentioning a name.
I picked up the kitchen phone. Hello.
Frank? This is Brian from Blackwater. The voice was friendly yet terse. We have an opening for a guy to go to Iraq and help with the security for Ambassador Bremer. You interested?
It took a few seconds for it to register. My heart began to race. I didnt realize how ready I was, or how much I needed such a call. I had been idle for six weeks and growing antsier by the day. I missed being busy. Sure, I answered. When?
Well need you to come down here to North Carolina, knock the rust off your weapons skills, take a physical fitness test. Then wed like you to deploy in August.
Im in, I said. When do you want me down there?
How about ten days.
Cool. See you then.
Adrenaline kicked in. I took a deep breath, high-fived myself. My fists jabbed the air. Blackwater, regarded as the most prestigious outfit among top security professionals, had just extended me an offer. I poured myself another cup of coffee. My mind was racing. How would I tell Kim and the kids?
At this stage of my career I never thought Id be going to a war zone. In my Marine Corps days in the 80s, I went to Cuba, Africa, the Persian Gulf, and all over Europe, but, like many of my Recon brothers, never during wartime. We prepared, we went on deployments, we risked our lives during training and got as good as one could get, but we never got to play in the big game. Politics is tough! That ate at me, us. We had done our jobs, but time and circumstances had denied us the opportunity to fight for our country. It was hard to live with.