Private Military Contractor International April 2014 | Page 15

In the early morning hours of November 14, 2004, a group of Private Military
Contractors crossed the Iraq/Kuwait border headed north to Balad, Iraq.
This is their story...
It’s 0330, and five American contractors along with a Gurkha and two
Iraqis strap on their side arms, tug on the straps of their black armored
vests, and conduct their radio checks. They suck down a last gulp of
coffee, and toss an extra case of Redbull into their vehicles. The eight
men split into three SUVs; a Toyota Prada, an armored Chevy Suburban,
and a GMC Yukon. Wolf Weiss, the team’s leader, in his usual high
spirited asks as he always does, “Are we ready to roll men?” “Locked,
Cocked, and Ready to Rock!” replies his #2, Scott Schneider, with his
favorite line.
The three vehicles snake their way through the Iraqi border town of
Safwan and head north on a 450 mile trip from the Kuwait border to
Balad, Iraq. Their mission: Proceed to Camp Anaconda, pick up two
Army officers, both female, and escort them from Camp Anaconda to
Baghdad International Airport (BIAP). BIAP is just about 65 miles south
of Camp Anaconda. But these are a very long sixty five miles, made
ever so much longer by frequent enemy attacks and IEDs encountered
in this particular stretch of road.
The U.S. Coalition Provisional Authority (CPA) asked this private security
contractor firm if they could execute the mission. There was never any
consideration by either the CPA or the Contractors that going 450 miles
north to escort two American officers going just sixty five miles south
was insane on the surface of things. The CPA didn’t care, probably
didn’t know, and the contracting firm, Crescent Security, needed the
money. So the mission was accepted, directed, and launched. Missions happen that way in Iraq. Money talks, bullshit walks.
Wolf and Jake along with an Iraqi they call Dee, load up in the lead

Toyota SUV. Wolf, who had served with the Marine Corp’s elite Force
Recon, is thirty-six, has a muscular build, a high and tight haircut
accentuated by a pony tail, and multiple tattoos on both of his huge
arms. Between his stint in the Marines and becoming a private security
contractor he was a rock star of sorts - and damn if he didn’t still look
the part! While in Iraq, Rolling Stone magazine interviewed him for an
article entitled, “Heavy Metal Mercenary”. He was quoted as saying
“There’s only a few things in this world I can do really, really well. War
is one.”
Jake Guevarra, riding shotgun, is about twenty five, fresh scrubbed,
clean cut, physically fit, and had been a Scout Sniper in the Marine
Corps. Jake is smart, well read, and not motivated by money, or so he
says. He never can quite articulate why he came here, but he is smart
enough to know that any given day could be his last and he is hoping it
isn’t going to be today.
Dee sat in the back seat; he is Wolf’s Iraqi counterpart on this hybrid
security team. In addition to vetting and managing the Iraqis on the
team, Dee has proven himself in countless firefights. He is street savvy, a skilled fighter and completely trusted by the Americans.
Wolf, Jake and Dee pass time during the drive listening to Wolf’s colorful war stories. He is exciting to be around, competent, and exudes
confidence. “Wolf has it together. I just feel safe when I am around
him.” Jake thinks to himself. Spirits are high and Wolf’s sense of humor has a way of keeping the guys from taking life too seriously.
The three men would be dead or wounded before the end of this day.

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