Hillah, Iraq.
The day passed by pretty slowly. It was hot, and there was no wind. The dust hung in the thick air, tiny hypnotic motes.
We were eating dinner when one of our intel guys burst in with the news that our informant knew where Terrorist Z was. For operational security, I cannot tell you who Terrorist Z is, but I will tell you that he is one of the most wanted men in Iraq, and there is a $25 million dollar bounty on his head. Our guy knew where he was, and we had to go now if we wanted to catch him. So much for the slow day.
We ran back to the team room for a quick briefing. Terrorist Z, along with five other high value targets, were at a meeting in a house somewhat to the south of us. They would be there for the next few hours. We had to leave within 45 minutes to catch him.
I tried to get some air power to support us, but that proved difficult given the time line. All air assets were already tasked, even if they could be pulled off their current missions, they would take a while to get to our area to support us. Fine. No air. At least I can concentrate on not getting shot, as there was a very good chance we were going to get in a gunfight or two.We quickly dressed and loaded up. SWAT had reacted remarkably quickly, and they were ready when we were. I rode with the Captain in the lead vehicle, allowing me to continue to arrange air, and support theCaptain, the battle commander, with whatever air I might scrape up.
As we headed south, we ran through a number of police checkpoints that were normally not there, which was not a good sign. We drove to a staging area while we waited for confirmation to execute the mission, confirmation that likely came from Baghdad, if not Washington, D. C. It is nerve wracking to sit on the side of the road, watching cars drive by. Each one could be a scout for the bad guys, and we really wanted to catch this one. As we waited, we finally got some air support in the form of a flight of F-18s that provided overhead cover.
The radio crackled to life, and permission was granted to engage the target. The Captain rogered up, and passed the codeword to execute the mission.”Rumblefish. I say again, Rumblefish.”
Just as the vehicles began to move, a half dozen Iraqi police cars drove up the road, screeching to a halt in front of our convoy. They began to ask a lot of questions, but we finally got things straighted up, and pressed on with the attack.
The target area was a complex of half a dozen houses next to a river. We turned onto the rutted path that served as the driveway, and the vehicles fanned out to secure the houses. The captain’s vehicle parked next to the foremost house, and he and the driver jumped out to begin assaulting houses. I stayed behind with the Green Beret gunner, as well as a lance corporal. I took a knee to watch the battle rage. The NODs gave everything a greenish tint as assaulters dodged around palm trees, and jumped over dirt mounds, as they surround the houses. There was a brief burst of heavy machine gun fire from the Anglico vehicle blocking to the south, which prompted a bit of small arms fire at various points around the compound. I got quite interested in maximizing my density by determining exactly how small I could make myself. I directed the Hornets overhead to watch the river and surrounding areas for squirters.
The fight raged on, and soon things were obscured by the dust stirred up by the assaulters. I saw a face peek out of a window at the house we were next to, and I asked if that house had been cleared.
“I don’t know” said the Green Beret.
“Well, we better do that.”
He hopped out of the turret. I followed him, with the lance corporal in tow. We swept around from the back of the house, coming around the left side to the front door.
Speed, surprise, violence of action.
The Green Beret kicked down the gate, and went left into the courtyard. I swept right, covering the midpoint of the far wall, and collapsing my field of fire towards the middle of the room. I went to the right corner, then progressed up the right wall, covering the middle of the room. The lance corporal took his spot at one of the rear walls, covering the center of the room.
No one.
I covered the Green Beret while he kicked open a door off the courtyard, discovering half a dozen women, and as just as many kids. We herded them into the middle of the courtyard, and got them to sit down. I checked an open storage area off to the right, which proved empty.
We marked the room to let other assaulters know it had been cleared, indicated that they were to stay in the courtyard and not leave, and went back out to the vehicle. The assaulters had secured the buildings, but were involved in a firefight with the next door neighbor. Nobody got hurt, and later the next door neighbor said that he shot at us because he thought we were robbers.The Hornets overhead saw somebody running to the river. The assaulters and I ran down there, and the Hornet gave us a talk on to where he last saw the guy. My laser pointer glowed green in the dust. We poked around in the piles of trash and palm fronds, but couldn’t find anybody. We searched the steep, two meter high bank for signs of somebody hiding, or getting into the water. The Green Berets began tossing grenades into the river in an effort to persuade anybody hiding underwater to come out. The bad guys have actually figured out how to make snorkels, and do this often. I thought the grenades would work like depth charges, but they actually didn’t disturb the surface of the water much when they exploded. However, each time a grenade detonated, the entire bank would jump an inch or two, accompanied by a deep explosion.
Another flight of four F-18s checked in. I pushed our original Hornets to the tanker, then set up the four in pairs, separated by altitude, with the same mission of orbiting overhead looking for squirters. I went back to the vehicle, past the long line of detainees. We had captured five high value targets, but Terrorist Z had escaped on foot to the north. We later found out that one of the guys we had captured was also the local chief of police. He had ordered all of those police checkpoints as a matter of security to his real master, and those crooked police had provided an early alert.
As we took the bad guys into custody, the Hornets radioed that they detected a bonfire upriver, with people standing around it. We formed up an assault force of Green Berets and SWAT to investigate. As they moved the thousand or so meters north, the Hornets reported that two boats were pushing out into the river. This got everybody’s attention. Any available personnel immediately set off north. I jumped on the hood of the vehicle to ride, as the car was full. I had my rifle in my right hand as I held onto the tie down clasp on the hood with my left hand. Another flight of F-18s checked in while we were driving, but I sent them away as I already had more than enough to do. I was also told that the AC-130 was on its way, and would be there shortly. The Hornets gave us directions to a mill that was near the bonfire, and he confirmed that the boats were crossing the river. I hopped off the hood as the vehicle slowed, took control of the AC-130 and directed it to the river, advised the Hornets of the AC-130 and asked them to go back to the original objective area. As I finished up this bit of administrative work, I noticed the sounds of a running gun battle from the river’s edge. Some Green Berets, the Staff Sergeant, and I got low as we went down to the river’s edge. The good guys were in a compound that was a mill of sorts. There was a house located near a large building filled with machinery, right next to the river’s edge. I saw SWAT and Green Berets shooting from cover at two boats on the water. The boats were full of guys with rifles directing ineffective fire at us. Heavy but inaccurate fire snapped through the palm trees overhead. Apparently, a moving boat is not a good shooting platform.
I directed the AC-130 to set up for a shot with its 105mm recoilless rifle, but the aircraft was not in a good shooting position. One of the riflemen in the boat collapsed from accurate Green Beret rifle fire. Just as the AC-130 finished turning into its gun solution, the boat touched the far bank and the bad guys scrambled to the top of the bank, where they inexplicably just stood there. The SWAT and Special Forces continued firing. I considered engaging them with the AC-130, but I had no idea what was on the other side of the river. It is one thing to blast a boat in the middle of a river to bits, but I had no idea who might be on the other side of the river.
I pulled back off the river’s edge to go meet with the leadership. The AC-130 informed us that the bad guys had gone into a house on the far bank, and appeared to be hiding inside. We agreed that we would take everybody not actively involved in detaining people to go catch those guys. I walked back down to the river to inform the good guys of the plan. As I passed the house, the door clanged open, and I found myself face to face with an older Iraqi. I quickly raised my rifle, and his eyes got slightly less big than mine had to be. I yelled, but with a swish of his robe and the clanging of the gate, I was only yelling at his back as he scrabbled down the hallway. My kidneys ached from the effort of squirting one Imperial pint of adrenaline into my bloodstream.
Having fetched the Green Berets and SWAT, and marshalled up the vehicles, we headed upriver to the bridge. The AC-130s talked us on. A flight of F-16s checked in, and I sent the Hornets away, thanking them for a job well done. We crossed the river. A Iraqi van swept around the corner of the bridge, and was engaged by the machine gun of the lead vehicle. As it skidded to a stop, Marines and Green Berets poured out of vehicles to secure the van, filled only with local farmers. I am not sure why they were going someplace so fast, but gunfire can make you think some pretty crazy things. As we loaded back up, another AC-130 showed up, along with more fast movers. I sent all the fast moving air away. Two AC-130s were more than enough for any trouble we might run into.
We headed down the far bank of the river, and the AC-130s talked us onto the house. The SWAT assaulted the house, and came out with a dozen bad guys. As well as a dozen women, and as many children. I was very, very happy I didn’t attack with the AC-130.
One squirter ran to a nearby house, and I had the AC-130 talk us on. We kicked down the gate, and searched the house to find our bad guy. We apologized for the inconvenience, and finally regrouped to head home.
At first, everybody was distressed that we didn’t capture Terrorist Z. But we came pretty close, and he only escaped because we didn’t know about a crooked cop, a cop who now has a lot of explaining to do. We also captured a number of high value bad guys, which makes it a successful mission in my opinion. All told, I controlled 8 F-18s, 2 F-16s, and 2 AC-130s. I probably turned away almost as much air.20 combat controls.