Hillah, Iraq.
As part of the upcoming campaign, we have opted to submit a bunch of requests for air support. And not just requests for jets with bombs. We are asking for Apache helicopters on one mission, and an AC-130 gunship on another. Also we are asking for rides in helicopters to two of our objectives to actually try to achieve some surprise. As I chased down the details for these requests, I ended up talking to a lieutenant colonel Marine. He had an unusual last time, and ultimately we figured out that he had been a staff officer in Pensacola when I was a student there. Small world.
Preparing for a mission is a two or three hour process. Firstly, all the players gather up in the briefing room of the Special Forces command post. Once everybody is there, we review the mission, including objectives, targets, weather, route, hazards, division of responsibilities, and the overall plan. This is generally done twice: once in English and once in Spanish. Tonight we also had the Latvians. This made for a pretty big convoy of nearly 25 vehicles, but having the Latvians along would probably qualify us for a joint medal. More flair for my uniform!
The plan was to hit three houses WAY out in the country. The bad guys were insurgents not only supervising IED construction, but also conducting kidnappings. The plan was to have the SWAT and Special Forces hit the southern two houses, the Latvians hit the northern house, and Anglico sit on a main road between the two, ready to provide a reaction force as necessary. Also, I could call air from between the two positions, and be on site when the air showed up.After all the briefings, I get my personal gear. I go to my hooch, and change my regular socks and shirt for an Underarmour shirt and Thurlo socks. I mix up a bottle of Gatorade, and fill up the CamelBack that is in my small daypack. In the main pocket of my daypack, I put my NODs (Night Optical Devices), the Gatorade bottle, and make sure my secondary FAC material is still in there. In the quick draw zipper pocket on the outside of the daypack, I reverse pack in the order I will need the stuff. First thing in is my FAC maps, and my green hardbound notebook that has all my notes from the briefings. Secondly, I put in my gloves. Then I put a magazine for my weapon (I have eight more on my battle rattle), and finally my hadji head wrap scarf. I strap on my pistol, grab my helmet and rifle, and carry all this junk out to the vehicle I am riding in.
This time going to the field I had three new pieces of equipment. My SAW machine gun has been upgraded. The weapons chief replaced the barrel of my SAW with a shortened paratrooper version. He replaced the stock with a collapsible one. He also put a single point harness on the weapon. All of this means that the medium machine gun SAW can be carried and handled almost like a light submachine gun.
I also got a new headset. I initially used a standard handset on my radio, but it is hard to hear in the vehicle. I replaced that with a headset, but it was pretty bulky and hard to wear with the helmet. Now I have a light, small headset that is great to wear.
Finally, I remembered to bring a drink box from the chow hall. I really wasn’t interested in exploring any sort of performance enhancement that might be derived from the drink box. I mostly wanted a picture of the ever present and popular drink box, but, alas, I never managed to get one.
I also had a cup of coffee in a travel mug that I managed to beg on a temporary basis. I think I have solved my coffee issue, and it was great rolling to the objective with a cup of joe in one hand and a machine gun in the other. Once I get the car stereo installed in the humvee, ingress and egress to the missions is going to rock!
About thirty minutes before we were supposed to roll out the gate, word came down that the Latvians weren’t going. Everybody except the Americans has to submit a written request to the Polish battalion commander no less than twelve hours before an operation. The Latvians forgot to get their permission slip signed, so they couldn’t go. This meant that the assault force was split into two groups, one for the northern objective, and one for the southern two. Anglico vehicles were doled out one to each group.
Once everybody is geared up and mounted, we marshal the vehicles along the road that leads to the gate in the order covered during the briefing. The idea is to roll out the gate at close to top speed, in case booger eaters are waiting on the other side. Which is a foolish idea, given the enthusiasm of the Mongolian snipers all around the gate. The Mongolians make up in alacrity what they lack in accuracy. My vehicle was the very last in the convoy, behind two Iraqi SWAT vehicles. This location is bad for a couple of reasons. The Iraqis are terrible drivers. They don’t understand the idea of following in a convoy. They will fall behind, sometimes by up to half a mile. Then they stomp on the gas. Since they are riding around in a pickup, they can catch up to the armored humvees pretty easily. But a humvee just doesn’t accelerate that fast.It also sucks convoying behind SWAT because you have to marshal behind SWAT. Which means that while we are waiting to roll, they are going to come begging. I guess they got supper this time because they didn’t ask for food. They kept asking for water. We freeze bottles of water, and then keep them in a cooler. Generally they are unfrozen within an hour or so, but the cooler keeps them cold. The Iraqis know this, and they love cold bottled water. We gave them a bottle, and that only encouraged them. They were annoyed that we wouldn’t give them all our water.
Once, they determined they weren’t going to give them all our water, they started playing with their guns. The best place to watch Iraqis play with their rifles when waiting for a convoy to leave is inside an armored humvee that has been backed away from these idiots, which is one of the benefits of being at the end of the convoy: plenty of room to back up. About three minutes before step off, one of the Iraqis accidentally discharged (AD) his weapon, which, of course, created quite a stir. However, we managed to roll pretty much on time.
Since we were so far back, our vehicle was pretty much up to speed as we rolled through the gate. However, the SWAT vehicle in front of us, apparently not content with just one bottle of water, skidded to a halt in the gate to beg more water from the gate guards. We started honking, and the SWAT gave us dirty looks as if to say, hey, who cares about the mutually supporting convoy, we need some more water here. They wrangled with the gate guards for over a minute while we were honking and yelling. Finally, they got rolling, and we ran full throttle to catch up. Good thing the mechanics took the speed governors off a couple of days ago. The SWAT guys started their variable speed antics, so we passed a couple of them, which earned us some Stick Eye looks. Still better closer to the main body than behind a bunch of crazy SWAT guys. I enjoyed my coffee with satisfaction.
We headed out into farming country. Iraq is not desert so much as it is just arid. This is the Fertile Crescent, after all, and apparently it is still fertile. Cultivating the land requires a lot of irrigation, and the farm land actually looks like rice paddies. There are long canals that border the deeply plowed fields. The sides of these canals are dikes that we used to drive to the objectives. It was somewhat of a precarious drive. The humvees are about as wide as the road which was bordered by heavily plowed fields on one side and deep ditches on the other.
The assault force split, and our element rolled to the first objective. When we got there, everybody got out to perform their tasks. The vehicles were in a column along the road, with the assaulters far ahead. The Marines and I got out to keep an eye on the abandoned house across the field from us. I kept an eye on the empty field on the side away from the objective because I have seen enough movies to know that if trouble is coming, whether in the form of bad guys, aliens, or zombies, it always comes from the direction you aren’t looking.Things were quiet for a while except for the barking dogs. And not quiet as in “It is quiet…almost too quiet”. Just quiet and still. We were far away from the action, and nothing was moving on our NODs or the thermal scope. I guess the quiet drove the SWAT guys bananas because one of them freaked out and started shooting at the empty house. The Marines and I took cover to determine where the enemy was. I asked the staff sergeant if he saw anything which, of course, he didn’t. The other SWAT guys also started shooting at the house. As I listened, I could hear no incoming rounds at all. The Marines and I stood up to watch these knuckleheads go nuts. The SWAT vehicle in front of us got twitchy, and they started shooting, too. They were armed with green tracers, so soon the house looked like video of Baghdad from Desert Storm.
The increased firing from the front SWAT vehicle really excited the rear vehicle SWAT guys, who started shooting on the other side of the canal towards the empty field over which I was keeping zombie watch. Which in turn excited the front SWAT guys even more. Soon these guys were firing up the fields on both sides of the dike, and some guys were even firing straight up in the air for good measure. It looked like the Death Blossom scene from The Last Starfighter. There were tracers flying everywhere.
Which, of course, got the attention of the rest of the column. The radio went ape as everybody wanted to know if we were in contact with the enemy in the rear. While we were assuring them that we were not, in fact, under attack, the Iraqis ran out of ammo, whereupon they promptly sat down to smoke. Surprisingly, no dogs were barking. Everything else was all ahoo, so Anglico set up the mortar to fire some illumination rounds.
I don’t think firing the mortar will qualify us for the Combat Action Ribbon. I thought about shooting the SWAT guys, but I don’t think that would qualify us, either, although probably everyone would be better off.
All things considered, I was glad they ran out of ammo so early as they are not interested in a project when they have no bullets. Upon reflection, I think it is safer to be near the guys kicking down doors. Those guys are pros, at least.I guess that the SWAT’s impressive display of firepower subdued the target because we were able to arrest the bad guy, and roll to the next objective. Running around chasing booger eaters offers certain challenges that are made five times as hard by trying to do them at night. As we rolled along, I discovered that my GPS batteries had died. While this may not sound like such a big problem, keep in mind that I needed to change the batteries while holding a machine gun in a humvee bouncing along a pitted dirt road at night. I rested the SAW on my lap, removed the rubber band that holds the protective zip lock bag, placing the rubber band on my wrist so I wouldn’t loose it. I tucked the zip lock into my vest. I opened up the GPS, and let the half that is tied to me fall. After removing the batteries, I held the GPS in my free hand while I rooted around in my daypack for the spares. I extracted two batteries from the package (no small feat with one hand), placed them in the GPS, and was back in business before we got to the next objective.
You have to learn to do everything by touch. I can adjust the volume of my personal radio by feel, and I have memorized how many clicks of the radio tuner gets me to different frequencies. I can load, clear jams, and unload my weapon by feel. I have also developed the ability to remember where my FAC bag and Gatorade are in the dark vehicle. Unfortunately, my drink box has no good place, and ultimately got lost due to shifting equipment. I was sad because it was apple juice, mightiest of the drink boxes.
Since SWAT shot up all their ammo, the rest of the mission went smoothly. The moon was so bright that I almost didn’t need the NODs. We managed to catch another bad guy and confiscate some illegal weapons, then headed off to the rally point to meet up with the other element. They had captured their target, so all things considered, a very successful evening. We got back to camp at 0500, and the Special Forces guys generously opted to do the debrief in the afternoon. I am off to bed to dream of SWAT free missions, and hope there is curried chicken for chow tomorrow.