Visiting the German military in Erbil

The safe haven of the Bundeswehr in Iraq is the Crystal Hotel Erbil. That's where those soldiers are stationed who teach the Kurdish fighters how to handle the German weapons supplied and also tactically enhance the Kurds. Jack Murphy, SOFREP editor and SPARTANAT author, paid a spontaneous visit to the German contingent in the Kurdistan capital during his last tour to the front against the Islamic State. And he very much enjoyed his – not entirely voluntary – stay in the heavily secured compound. Here is his report:

It was my last night in Kurdistan before I was planning to take my flight home at 4 in the morning. On that morning, the commander of the German coalition forces in Kurdistan, Colonel Stephan Spöttel, was found dead in his room at the Crystal Hotel in Erbil. After kebab and a few beers with former SAS operator Phil Campion, I decided to go to the Crystal Hotel to see if I could find out what had happened. The Germans are doing a great job in Kurdistan and the weapons they have provided are giving a clear advantage on the battlefield, where the Peshmerga fighters are pushing back the ISIS hordes. The death of Colonel Spöttel was undoubtedly a heavy blow to the German troops.

After a taxi ride through Erbil, I found the Crystal Hotel surrounded by concrete walls. The Germans take their security seriously, that was evident. They have rented the entire hotel for over a million dollars a month and fortified it to resemble a forward operating base. As I took some pictures of the hotel with my phone, one of the guards walked over and asked me who I was. He was wearing a black uniform, had a mohawk haircut, and an AKM hung from his shoulder. He then asked me to wait until his boss arrived because he spoke English.

The chief of the gate security appeared dressed in an OD green uniform and began to interrogate me, asking who I was and why I was taking pictures of this hotel.

“Who are you,” I asked back. These guys seemed more like a private security service than police. If that were the case, I would jump into my taxi and just leave...

“Asyiash,” he replied. Kurdistan's secret police.

Oh man, not again. Last time in November, I spent eight hours being interrogated by these people. They were very professional, but it was extremely tedious. During the interrogation, I brought in some of what I had learned during SERE training in peacetime. The interrogator knew exactly what I was doing. I brought up my military service to avoid spending a few nights in a solitary cell. “Were you in ODA 5220,” he asked me. “Oh no,” I replied, “I was in 5414.” Eventually, he got fed up and around three or four in the morning, he let me go back then.

I have enough respect for the Kurdish and German troops, within the hotel, I was in no way concerned about my safety.

Needless to say, I was not thrilled when the Asyiash man guarding the Crystal Hotel asked me to come inside and talk to his bosses. He apologized for the inconvenience, but he was just doing his job. That was fair enough to say. When I reached the first gate, I was searched. They missed my Karambit, which I had tucked in my bag. I took it out and handed it to the secret police man. I have enough respect for the Kurdish and German troops, within the hotel, I was in no way concerned about my safety.

Once we passed the checkpoint, we went behind the concrete wall and up to the hotel. This is madness, I thought. Just a moment ago they were worried that I could be a terrorist, and now they were escorting me through all their security measures and defenses to really get me inside.

A few steps further, we walked through a glass door. I was asked to sit in a plush chair while I waited for the Kurds to discuss and decide what to do with me. After a few minutes, I was approached again by a representative of Asyiash, another Kurd who introduced himself as the responsible person for the hotel security, and a German soldier – in their typical desert camouflage with a pistol on the hip. Once again, they questioned me about who I was and what I wanted. I told them the truth.

“Okay,” said the German in English with an accent, “if you could please delete the pictures you have taken.”

As if I had to bargain for my freedom, I deleted the pictures from my phone as requested.

The chief of Kurdish security asked me for my passport. The problem was, I had left it in the hotel.

The chief of Kurdish security asked me for my passport. The problem was, I had left it in the hotel. I don't always carry it with me. Well, that posed a small problem now because they wanted the information from my passport before they would let me go. As a solution, they asked for my permission to contact my hotel and request the copy of the passport from the check-in. I agreed, and they called the hotel.

While waiting, the Germans offered me a seat in the hotel cafe, where about a dozen Bundeswehr soldiers were hanging out, drinking beer and Red Bull, and smoking cigarettes. They also gave me an espresso. Damn, I like being held by the Germans. As I sat around waiting for my hotel to provide my passport information to Asyiash and the Bundeswehr, I found the whole situation surreal. I was able to gather more information about German security measures, find out which unit they belonged to, and a whole lot more.

I would never disclose any details about the hotel's security measures or any other details that could endanger our allies, but a bad boy would. After this article is published, I hope the Bundeswehr thinks about how they handle the detention of suspicious individuals. But the best part is yet to come. My hotel had not yet sent the passport information, they live by Kurdish time, and there is no rush in such matters. I was captured – a guest of the Germans – until they had what they wanted.

“We just need the information from the front of your passport,” said the security chief. “Do you have a picture of it on your phone or something?”

I wasn't sure, but I checked. It turned out, yes, I had one. I had taken the photo months ago and completely forgotten about it.

“Great,” said the security guy, “send it to me by email, and you can go.”

To do that, I needed access to the hotel's WIFI. He escorted me into his office next door and gave me the password. While I was on the WIFI, I quickly informed a few people that I was being held, then emailed my phone photo of the passport. While waiting for the email, I looked around the office. There was a picture of a silly-looking child on the wall. Underneath the picture was his name and in large red letters: EXTREMELY DANGEROUS!!!

“Hey, is that an ISIS guy,” I asked.

“Oh, yes. He's trying to join ISIS.”

That was one of the biggest security threats from the German perspective.

Being held was by far the best way to gather information about the Germans, even though it was never my intention.

I noticed a screen displaying an open email. In it was the information about which German unit was currently stationed in the hotel and when their planned deployment was. Being held was by far the best way to gather information about the Germans, even though it was never my intention. I just wanted to take a picture of the hotel and later write an article about the German officer who had passed away.

Ultimately, the email went through, and I was escorted out the front door. On the way, I stopped and made sure they gave me back my Karambit. The gatekeeper looked slightly disappointed because he knew he would have gotten the knife if I hadn't passed the "scratch and sniff test" and disappeared into some Kurdish dungeon.

I waved goodbye and got into my taxi. The driver made a U-turn and headed back to my hotel, the way we had come from, back to my hotel. As we drove past the Crystal Hotel again, I took a few more photos and called it a day.