The Brain Housing Group

Marines in the Garden of Eden

2006-05-30T04:56:00.000-07:00

Richard Lowry's new book on the Battle of Nasiriyah will be available on June 6th. If you go to www.marinesinthegardenofeden.com you can still get it for $15.72. This special price won't be around much longer. If you have any desire to read the definitive account of the first major battle of Operation Iraqi Freedom you'll probably want to pick this up.
S/F
Mooch

A Marine Corps Hero Retires

2006-05-06T12:23:00.000-07:00

A true Marine Corps hero retired on March 1st 2006. Colonel Timothy Howard retired after 28 years of service. What makes Colonel Howard's service special is not the amount of time he served, but how he served. You see Colonel Howard only has one arm. His right arm was shot off during combat operations in Grenada during Operation Urgent Fury in October of 1983.

The Colonel was flying a Cobra helicopter supporting Navy SEALs who had gone in to rescue Governor-General Paul Scoon, the British Administrative Representative on Grenada.

Then-Captain Howard had brought his Cobra into a hover in order to allow his Weapons Officer, Captain Jeb Seagle, to line up a shot with a TOW missile. As they hovered the ship was bracketed by gunfire from a ZU-23 23mm Anti-Aircraft gun. Shells exploded around the ship. One shell hit the port side engine and another blasted through cockpit side. That second shell almost severed Captain Howard's right arm and also peppered his right leg, breaking it in a number of places. In addition, the violet impact had knocked Captain Seagle unconscious.

Howard using his functioning limbs, managed to land the aircraft in the middle of Tanteen Field without rolling it. The force of the impact activated the canopy release system and also woke Captain Seagle.

Seagle jumped out of the aircraft and pulled Howard free. He then tied his helmet communications cord around the stricken pilots arm to stop the bleeding. Howard feeling as though he was slipping away, told Seagle to leave him and save himself. Seagle refused and instead, grabbing Howard's pistol, moved away to lure Grenadian forces, who had begun advancing on the crash site, away from his grievously injured pilot.

While a medevac CH-46 was landing to rescue Captain Howard, Captain Seagle was captured and executed by Grenadian forces. As the CH-46 sped out of St. George's Harbor, the gunship covering its withdrawal, crewed by Captain Pat Giguere and Lt Jeff Scharver was hit and plunged into the harbor.

For their actions during the rescue mission the following Marines were decorated:
Captain Tim Howard - Silver Star
Captain Jeb Seagle - Navy Cross

Captain Pat Giguere - Silver Star
1stLt Jeff Scharver - Silver Star

Major Melvin DeMars (Piloted the medevac CH-46) - Silver Star
GySgt Kelly Neidigh (rescued Howard from the crash site) - Silver Star

Colonel Howard after a series of operations requested to remain on active duty. As you can see in the article below, he is a remarkable man and his retirement is a huge loss for the Marine Corps.

Thank you for your service Sir,

Semper Fi,

Mooch

Marine hero leaves legacy of determination, retires after more than 30 years service

Submitted by: Marine Forces PacificStory Identification #: 200631203014Story by Lance Cpl. Ethan Hoaldridge

U.S. MARINE CORPS FORCES, PACIFIC, CAMP H. M. SMITH, Hawaii (March 1, 2006) -- Grenada, 1983--Helicopters being shot down, men sacrificing their lives for their fellow warriors, American medical students being rescued and a Silver Star are all elements of a story that echoes of heroism and inspires greatness.

Col. Timothy B. Howard, a veteran of this encounter, retired in a ceremony at the Pacific War Memorial at Marine Corps Base Hawaii, Kaneohe Bay, Feb. 24. Howard was one of many men during Operation Urgent Fury on the Caribbean Island of Grenada that displayed those characteristics that uphold the highest traditions of the United States Naval Services.

Even after receiving a Silver Star for his courageous actions in Grenada, the real feat of awe-inspiring determination was his triumph over the severe wounds he received on Grenada, the same wounds that would almost cost him his Marine Corps career.

Even after suffering the loss of his lower right arm, and enduring more than ten surgeries on his right leg, Howard refused to give up.“After that crash it took me a year of rehabilitation just to walk with a cane, and another year to jog,” said Howard. “I worked out two hours in the morning and another two in the evening, sometimes with tears running down my face.”“I remember a nurse from the hospital who cautioned me not to work so hard and inflict so much pain on myself,” said Howard. “The doctor said the harder I push myself, the faster my rehabilitation will be.” “She said that nobody else was working as hard as me, and that I should slow down,” said Howard. “I said, well ma’am, if you were an MIT graduate in a room full of morons, would you act like a moron, too?”

Since Howard’s first physical fitness test after recovery, he has never scored lower than a first-class PFT score.In that same spirit, Howard loves the Marine Corps, because Marines strive to improve and stand out.As an intelligence officer, Howard used the rule of three to maintain organization and readiness, so why should his retirement speech be any different? Howard shared the three things that he stuck to throughout his Marine Corps career.“Do the right thing, never miss an opportunity to shut up and listen, and if you’re not having fun, then you’re doing it all wrong,” he said.

With this determination and attitude, Howard earned three different commands throughout his career.In August 1986, Howard was selected to command the 1st Remotely Piloted Vehicle Company at 29 Palms, Calif. There he was instrumental in the integration of remotely piloted vehicles into the Marine Corps Air Command and Control System. He then served in the intelligence directorate at the Pentagon, and later assumed command of 2nd Intelligence Battalion, II Marine Expeditionary Force.

After being promoted to colonel, he was given command of Weapons and Field Training Battalion, Marine Corps Recruit Depot, Paris Island, SC. His battalion trained more than 36,000 recruits and 12,000 more Marines and Sailors in rifle training, gas mask confidence, rappelling, basic warrior skills and the Crucible.Finally, in 2003,

Howard made it to his last duty station, serving as MARFORPAC’s Assistant Chief of Staff for Intelligence.Howard’s career spanned three decades in the Marine Corps, more than half his life. “The reason I stayed in so long was because I never had a bad command or a bad duty station,” said Howard. “The Marines always came through.”

Brig. Gen. Steven A. Hummer, the commanding general of Marine Corps Base Hawaii, Kaneohe Bay, called Howard a hero and an example of true dedication to Corps and country. His perseverance through the challenges he’s conquered or the foes he’s faced, whether it be a physical disability or a new command, was not endured alone.“My wife is my number one supporter, and I couldn’t have done any of this without her,” said Howard as he lost his voice in emotion gazing at his wife Bethany.The support of Marines will always remain in his heart as Howard retires from active duty, and the seeds that Howard has planted in the Corps will continue to grow.

http://www.usmc.mil/marinelink/mcn2000.nsf/ac95bc775efc34c685256ab50049d458/efd0798c67d5881d85257125000842ff?OpenDocument&Highlight=2,Grenada

Mail Bag

2006-02-26T06:20:00.000-08:00

I know it's been a while. Captain S has been on me to post more.
Recently I had been contacted by Matt. Matt has been researching the Battle of Nasiriyah. More specifically he's researching anything that had to do with the 507th Maintenance Company and it's ambush in Nasiriyah and the subsequent rescue of PFC Jessica Lynch.
Here are some of Matt's questions, with my lighty edited answers in italics.
S/F
Mooch

Matt,
The Battle for Nasiriyah was subsequently overshadowed by the Thunder Run/Assault on Baghdad and the First and Second Battle for Fallujah. Part of the reason for that I believe is that when we staged for the ground war, nobody, especially the journalists, thought we (RCT-2 and TF Tarawa) would see any action therefore nobody really wanted to embed with us. If it weren't for Joe Raedle, Kerry Sanders, the late Dennis O'Brien and later Art Harris our story would have never gotten out. I'll take a shot at your questions.

1) How soon after the ambush did TF Tarawa know about the attack on the 507th? The official report lists the attack time on the 507th as ~0700hrs. We (TF Tarawa) stepped off from our laager site at the Route 7/Route 8 Interchange at ~0500 (I don't have my journal - it's at home - or I'd tell you the exact time). We were a couple of hours drive time south of Naz (it was probably only an hour or so, but we had a 3700-man RCT and you are only as fast as your slowest vehicle). We arrived on the southern outskirts of Nasiriyah sometime between 0730-0830. We were the 3rd element of the convoy to come into contact with the enemy (1st was Alpha Company, 8th Tanks, 2nd was 1st Battalion, 2nd Marines or 1-2 [One/Two] and we [HQ, 2nd Marines] were third). As we proceeded up Route 7 we kept passing destroyed Army vehicles. I distinctly remember a 5-ton maintenance-type vehicle with quadcons (large aluminum storage boxes) on the back. The quadcons were open with gear (mostly tools) falling out of them. The vehicle was facing south and we passed it on the left. One of the rear tires was burning. My captain (Captain S) looked at me and mouthed "what the f**k?" He had an incredulous look on his face. I said to him, "I don't know Sir, but those aren't ours. (Jokingly) We don't have the money to pay for all that tan paint." Radio contact with our forward elements was spotty at best but I believe it was around 0800 when Alpha Company, 8th Tanks first came upon the small lead band of 507th troopers. We were unaware of their presence until that time.
Did you talk to any of the Army survivors? I was sort of on the outside looking in. I saw one trooper (later I found out it was CPT King) having a very animated conversation with General Natonski. I also watched our corpsmen treat and medevac a number of the 507th troopers. But no, I did not speak to any of them directly. I do recall as we made our approach to the city and 8th Tanks made contact, we got a call from TF Tarawa asking if we had located "the captain". Apparently they had received a call from 3ID who was very concerned because of the sensitive nature (Patriot tech) of his/their jobs.
If so, what kind of shape were they in? Most of the troopers were injured. Several were ambulatory, but a couple were placed on stretchers and medevaced on General Natonski's C&C Huey or CH-46.
How soon was the number of MIAs tabulated? We received a pretty complete list in less than an hour. But our forward units got it earlier than us. The recovered survivors were the source.

2) After the ambush, and in the days that followed, when did the possiblity that a survivor or survivors from the lost convoy were being held as POWs in Nasiriya start to surface? Well we immediately put that as priority because we knew that the longer waited/took, the higher chance the Iraqis would have of getting them out of Nasiriyah. We started getting reporting from Iraqi civilians immediately that there were Americans who were captured still in the city. They were being moved often, etc. I'd say the reporting started on the 24th of March and didn't stop until after the rescue occurred.
Was the info general or specific? (I'm very familiar with Mohammed's account (don't believe everything you read), as I have his book, and in several other magazine and newspaper articles other Iraqis came foreward with info as well). There have been other books alluding to some of these other sources as well, so... Many times the info was bogus; mostly just hearsay. It was very tough distinguishing between what was real and what was BS.

3) Military Hospital: When was it taken? There were two. The Ty Kar Hospital south of the Euphrates (southeastern Nasiriyah) and the Saddam Hospital, which was north of the Euphrates (western Nasiriyah). Obviously you know when the Saddam Hospital was taken. Fox Company took the Ty Kar on the 28th of March IIRC (actually it was the 24th).
I've seen the NBC piece on the hospital, and am wondering if there was anything you saw that wasn't in the piece. It alluded to bloody U.S. Army female uniforms found there, and a bedframe hooked up to a car battery. Was there anything else? Based on video and still photos I saw there was a ton of NBC (Nuclear/Biological/Chemical) defense gear (somewhere in the neighborhood of 3k gas masks/suits, actually about 300), an armory with a battalion's worth of arms and ammo, an immobile, but operational tank in the courtyard (violation of the Geneva Convention), torture chambers (with blood splattered walls, "I" hooks/bolts in the wall, etc), a command post where we captured a number of company and field grade officers from the 23rd Infantry Brigade (Iraqi 11th Infantry Division). In the morgue there 2-3 corpses of regular Iraq Army deserters that the Fedayeen had executed with point blank pistol shots to the head. We also recovered some US Army uniform items, including a flak vest.
Because I'm thorough and I didn't want to rely on my faulty memory, I went back and read through some of the command journals for RCT-2.
From the CJ of 2/8 regarding the raid on TyKar Hospital which was conducted by Fox Company:
The Marines also recovered evidence that American POWs had been held at that location. This evidence included two flak jackets adjusted for wear by females - one of which bore the name "Lynch" - American utility uniforms, American chemical protective suits marked with Lynch's name, and two pairs of size five desert boots.
Both Jessica and Lori were roughly the same size so that would indicate we had recovered both their gear from the same place in TyKar.
I recall that her uniforms were missing the nametapes but had her name written in ink in the collar/waistband. Her boots and uniform were covered with rips and dried blood. I could tell by the sizes that she was a tiny, little thing. We also recovered Lori's and one other trooper's gear but I don't recall the name. It may have been Hudson's. I bagged them and kept them in my vehicle for three days before turning them over to graves registration. I remember that the Marine who gave me the gear was very concerned that he didn't want the uniforms to become some kind of freak show, with folks coming over to look at them. Knowing this, I kept it close hold that I had them except with regard to my chain of command.

4) The raid itself: When was the decision to launch made? I don't know. I wasn't part of the operational planning only the intel support.
What did TF Tarawa do to support it? We conducted diversionary attacks to get the Ba'ath/Fedayeen to focus north of the city.
Kerry Sanders of NBC remarked in a book that he was told 12 hours before the mission that it was going down, and a Marine Recon NCO told his cameraman where to point the TV camera. Again I wasn't around for that. I find it hard to believe that it was a Marine Recon NCO who told Kerry to do that since he was embedded with 2nd Battalion, 8th Marines. 2-8 (Two/Eight) had no organic recon assets (other than Scout/Sniper teams). Then again Charlie Company, 2nd Light Armored Recon was part of the site security for the raid so it's plausible that an LAR Marine instructed him to do that.
Was the diversion just ground fire or was there an actual attack? It was a full on attack conducted by 15th MEU, 1/2, 2/8 and Alpha Company, 8th Tanks.
News accounts say the target was the Baath Party HQ-is this correct? It was a number of targets, one of which was the Nasiriyah Ba'ath Party HQ.
What was the reaction of the staff to your arrival? I wasn't there but from what I was told, the hospital staff was very compliant ie they were scared s**tless and did what they were told.
Were they angry or relieved? See the prior answer. One doctor did inform the search team that she had been moved from her original room to a pre-op room and that doctor led them right to Jessica's room.

5) I'd like to get a feel for what you guys were hearing/feeling. What kinds of rumors were going around about Jessica and the other POWs? We knew she was alive. There were many reports of a blonde female POW. There were also reports of a blonde male POW, which I believe was Sgt Walters. We had no other reporting other than that she was too injured to move and that's why she wasn't moved with the other POW's who were later rescued.
One CNN reporter said that when he heard "Precious cargo secured" there was a big cheer from the Marines he was with. Did you get a chance to listen in on the raid? I actually watched the raid force go in. I remember when the rescue force went in, my good friend Bob called me back to TF Tarawa HQ's. He pointed me to the station we viewed our UAV's feed from. In it I saw a group of Blackhawks heading into the courtyard of a building. Bob said "they're going in to get your girl". He said I had a huge smile on my face.

6) Military Hospital: some published accounts say the staff there was very cooperative, telling Marines that POWs had been held/treated there but had been moved; were they as cooperative as the press and books say, or were they reluctant to say much? (Fear of Fedayeen and Baath loyalists still very present?) I don't recall getting alot of statements from hospital staff from the military hospital. I know that the Iraq Army officers we captured made statements saying that the POW's had been there but the Fedayeen moved them. Being regular Army, they didn't have any control over anything the Fedayeen or Republican Guard would do. The post-mission reports from 2/8 didn't mention speaking to hospital staff. Some of our intel Marines said that the staff showed them where the torture rooms were and showed them the executed Iraqi Army troops in the morgue.

7) Other locals: filtering the wheat from the chaff must've been a real pain? You could say that. The whole country runs on heresy and what we in intel jokingly call RUMINT (rumor intelligence). These people were poor and neglected by their government. They took advantage of our lack of local intel. It didn't take us long to get savvy about the situation then we developed a set of qualifying questions that really put a hold on the false reporting.
I can imagine trying to sort out rumor from fact....trying to calm folks who think Marines got into the service by killing a family member must've been trying to say the least (I've heard that story from a Gulf War I book). I recall that the Iraqis were calling us "Angels of Death" and that every Marine was a "sniper". They also called the M1 Abrams "whispering death". They had a name for the Cobra but I forgot what it was.

8) A general question: How did the sandstorm on the 25th affect you guys? I can remember watching the news and they said that everything was virtually shut down for 48 hours until the storm passed. The sandstorm was biblical. It severely curtailed our activities but it did not stop them. The reason that everyone paused was to allow our logistics tail to catch up. The sandstorm was a convenient excuse because we felt the bad guys would hunker down as well. That's exactly what they did. With that said, the sandstorm made even the most mundane tasks difficult (such as taking care of mother nature, weapons maintenance, etc). But we did patrol at the local level. We did not conduct any large scale repositioning of forces, attacks, etc. Again the pause was to allow the loggies to get a much needed resupply to us.

9) Two of the books on the war say the Iraqis in Nasiriya were a mix of the 11th Infantry Division, plus the Fedayeen and Baath Party/Special Security people. Is this accurate? That is exactly who we were facing. Up to 3000 Fedayeen were able to infiltrate the city during the first couple of days because theater command would not let us drop the bridge at the northwest of the city. There was a constant flow until we were able to push 1/2 to a "T" intersection out there and they were able to interdict that road/bridge.
Any others-Iraqi AF or Republican Guard types? (AF running from Talil AB, for example, and RG to stiffen the regular Army-or did the Fedayeen bully-boys perform that role?) There were only a few odds and sods of RG. Mostly they were deserters who got caught trying to return to Nasiriyah. They were infiltrating for the most part because they were from Naz.
T-55s or T-59s; makes sense. T-72s were for RG/SRG only. Yep, I never saw a T-72 until I got north near al-Kut, al-Hillah and such. All the crappy southern units got T55/T59/T62 tanks.
Any SAM sites around? (SA-2s, SA-3s, SA-6s, or Rolands?) I believe there was a SAM site at Tallil but it was blasted during Operation Southern Watch and then again right before we kicked off. Or just triple-A only? There was AAA everywhere. It was never utilized properly and our Cobra jockeys had a field day blowing the crap out them. Heck even some Huey crews blew some ZU-23's away with there port/starboard mini-guns.

"Jarhead"

2005-12-04T10:56:00.000-08:00

As many of you know, the movie "Jarhead" is out. Based off the highly acclaimed best seller of the same name, the memior was written by Anthony Swafford. When books/movies/shows come out about the military, if I don't have first knowledge of the event, etc, I usually will try and find some folks that did have experience with it. I was able to track down through friends, some people who served with Swafford. Their opinion of him has almost universal...turd of the first order. Taking that into account, I knew his book would likely be another one of those "I hate the Marine Corps" books. I was told that my initial thoughts were correct. After hearing so many negative reviews from many veterans I respect, I decided to boycott both the book and film.

I would like to post a review of the book as done by another Desert Storm Marine Corps veteran who served in a sister unit of Swafford's.

Enjoy.
Semper Fi,
Mooch

* Wow, it all starts on page two. Anthony Swofford .... Super Marine lays out the details of where he gets his extra spending cash. Swofford goes into detail about how he steals MREs (meals ready to eat) from supply and then sells them to an army/navy store in San Bernadino. He also describes how he steals from other Marines, their gear and sells it in much the same way. Impressive Swofford, but if you were such the Super Marine why didn't you get promoted and earn a higher paycheck to supplement your income? This is all on page two and it really motivates me to keep flipping the pages of this "Chronicle" (as Swofford calls his book).

* Page seven is where we find out that Swofford is rather obsessed with the Vietnam war movies that dotted his childhood. As his fellow Marines and himself are staging for deployment to Saudi Arabia, they watch war movies to motivate themselves for killing and Swofford can only come up with this statement, "I want ammunition and alcohol and dope...." Damn Swofford, you make me so proud!

* Let's look at page 13 and this is where we find out that Swofford was absolutely in a different Marine Corps than (at the time) 196,000 other Marines "Knowing that reporters will arrive soon, we shave for the first time in a week." Wow, this must be some super, secret, high-speed STA Platoon thing. Perhaps they were so high-speed that they were to blend with the locals and grow beards? Hey Swofford, I have never seen, at any time in my eight years as a Marine Grunt a more "anal" time in the Marine Corps than that first month in country in Saudi Arabia. We were polishing boots, shaving AND keeping mustaches in regulation. Swofford, come on man........... we were in sister units, a few miles apart and you are telling us that 2/7 just gave up on grooming regulations for over a week? Let me guess...... it was only a STA Platoon thing?

* Very interesting story starting on page 17 to page 23. It's the famous MOPP Suit Football Game where Swofford knows that civilians will believe they played for an hour in 112 degree+ temperatures. Of course a Marine knows that Swofford is back to his exaggerations again. Even more interesting is how he describes them all pouring water over themselves after the game at the straddle trench, naked and/or wearing only underwear and female Boston Globe reporter is just standing there soaking it all in. Great fantasy Swofford, but you had been in theater less than two weeks and we both know that holy hell would have come unglued if ANY Marine would have run around naked OR in underwear around a female, US reporter. Great for a book but let's remember Swofford, there were many Marines around. Are they getting royalties to keep quiet about your delusions?

* Perhaps 2/7 was also a Super Marine Unit that didn't have the same rules, regulations that the rest of us had. Perhaps STA 2/7 were such hard-ass, perfect Marines that they got to keep all their porno and alcohol in Saudi Arabia? One must figure that being snipers, they were outstanding at hiding themselves so it only seems reasonable that that they could all hide illegal contraband as well. Page 25 is only the first reference (there are many) that "chronicles" the massive and bottomless pit of porno that STA 2/7 keeps in theater.

* Once again, Swofford shows us all what an outstanding Marine he is in basic character. On page 33 Swofford is so proud to inform us that he wore earrings while on leave and EVEN grew sideburns. For sure, as a sniper he would be so stealthy on his return to active duty that absolutely no one would have noticed the holes in his ears.

* Also on page 33 I believe we hear for the first time (there are more) that Swofford likes busting up bars (Kadena AFB on Okinawa). With outstanding prose, Swofford outlines all the broken skulls, bones, chairs and tables. Of course, being a sniper he was able to sneak out the back before getting caught. Also in here we find out that he likes to hang with gay Navy folk because they knew of the best bars. Actually, I've very surprised that Swofford hasn't thrown some gay or bisexual crap into his book. Surely that would enable a few more copies to be sold? "Jarhead" could have been the military version of "Less Than Zero."

* Swofford again counts on no Marines actually ever reading this trash so on page 36 he tells us that he had his Japanese girlfriend sleep in the barracks with him. He even tells us that it's Camp Hansen on Okinawa. We all know that this probably never happened in the open squad bays of Camp Hansen but this book is a best seller with a movie being made, so there is no doubt that it must be true. * Page 45, "But after 14 weeks of bootcamp......." If this is such a "come clean, honest chronicle" then why doesn't Swofford tell us why he spends an extra week in bootcamp? Again, almost 200,000 Marines (active duty in the late 80's early 90's) all spent 13 weeks in bootcamp but our Super Marine Anthony Swofford is there for 14. I'm betting he was so outstanding of a Marine that they kept him there for an extra week so that he could show the Drill Instructors what they were doing wrong.

* Swofford the hard ass tells us on page 45 that he called his Captain a *beep* addict cumsucker bitchmaster dickskinner *beep* *beep* nopecker lilywhitebitch." This Captain, we are told, "Laughs as he signs my orders to the Seventh Marines." Sure Swofford, you call a Marine Corps Captain all this stuff and he just laughs. Interestingly, this may in fact be the single largest crock of *beep* in this book.

* Still on page 45 we see more of Swofford's character. He fakes a stomach flu the first week of reporting to Camp Pendleton, chewing Ex-Lax gum and flirting with underage candy stripers. Swofford, we're all so impressed.

* Page 47, Swofford is on theater marquee duty and spells *beep* IT, SHOWING ALL DAY" on the movie theater marquee. (If this is where ALL Marines inprocess to Camp Pendleton, it would make it the Mainside Theater, but perhaps Super Marine Swofford inprocessed somewhere else.) Sure Swofford, sure you did.

* Still on page 47, Swofford tells us that the Seventh Marines were stationed at San Onofre. You know I'll hate informing you all but Seventh Marines were stationed at San Mateo until they were moved to 29 Palms. You would think that a sniper would have these kinds of details covered?

* Swofford runs into the ONLY Staff Sergeant in the entire Marine Corps, past or present that tells him to "Stop calling me Staff Sergeant" on page 49. It was Swofford's first day with Seventh Marines and him and the Staff Sergeant got so tight in those few hours that they must have reverted to first names but we can only speculate as Swofford just tells us that a Staff Sergeant in the US Marine Corps doesn't like being called Staff Sergeant.

* Page 50 is where the branding takes place. It may have happened, it may not have but chances are, with Swofford's current trust level........... I bet it didn't.

* "I learned from Graycochea that just because you are a Marine, it doesn't mean you must like other Marines or even care about them," is from page 53. This is lovely Swofford, just plain lovely.

* Page 65 is the famous video care package from a Marine Wife. We all heard the story while we were over there. It may have actually happened in Fox 2/7 as Swofford claims. It was an urban legend and may have actually happened but did it actually happen to Swofford's unit? Again, Swofford is more than likely including it, happening to him to sell books.

* On page 70 Swofford is tongue kissing the muzzle of his M16. He goes into great detail describing the taste, texture and such. Guess what? Swofford is one serious retard. Period!

* How many times does Swofford expect us (Marines) to believe that he was in some DIFFERENT Marine Corps than the rest of us? On page 72 he describes Troy being busted for failing a drug test. They busted him from Corporal to Private but left him in STA Platoon. No way, Swofford! At this point, only page 72 out of 260 why haven't you PULLED that trigger and spared us all the BS... JESUS !!!

* On page 74 Swofford tells us that he and Troy ran all night, the perimeter.... until the sun came up. Sure you did Swofford. You just got bored and ran all damn night.

* Page 75 starts the crap about Troy dying. One more time, Swofford tells us about busting up a bar and nothing happening to him. This time the cops do show up and he leads us to believe that the cops were glad the locals got beat up. We are lead to believe that no charges were filed and of course he goes into great detail about all the skulls, bones, tables and chairs getting broken. This was all because some local actually approached them in the bar and told them that they were glad that Troy had died. Wow......... I'll bet you were just minding your business and some locals just approached you to exclaim, "Hey Jarhead, don't you think you need a haircut, just like your *beep* dead friend?" Of course, they got their hair pulled as well. Maybe if Swofford had his earrings in and sideburns the locals wouldn't have known he was a Jarhead? Yeah Swofford, what happened to the earrings and sideburns?

* On page 78 we hear about some reservist Marines who did Troy's funeral asking them about their ribbons. Marine reservists do that all the time. They'll just come out of nowhere, closets, from under your car and down your chimney to confront you about your ribbons and medals.

* OK, something credible from the book. On page 87 Staff Sergeant Siek tells the STA Platoon Marines, "I am here to tell you that you Marines are considered an undisciplined group of showboats." It appears that perhaps 2/7 has only ONE Marine that actually isn't some freakshow with his head completely up his ass as Swofford goes into great detail wanting us to believe. OOH RAH Staff Sergeant Siek, finally someone I respect in this "chronicle."

* Swofford tells us on page 90 that they just blow off orders from Staff Sergeant Siek to train while he is gone and of course they all start drinking alcohol as well. This is the mighty, elite STA Platoon of 2/7. I would soooooooooo want them working with me.

* Page 94, STA 2/7 is passed out drunk when Staff Sergeant Siek returns.

* Page 95, "STA Marines don't grow mustache." Hey Swofford, mustaches are taboo but your earrings and sideburns are "good to go?" Swofford, you need help!!!

* STA Platoon misses their range time on page 98 because their firewatch fell asleep. Mighty, Mighty STA Platoon, Super Marines, Anthony Swofford, hard as nails and they can't stay awake on firewatch.

* Page 103 Swofford points a loaded weapon at a fellow STA Marine. It's a completely retarded 3-4 pages of Swofford acting all macho and of course nothing happens to him. Nothing happens because Swofford is an elite, sniper, STA Platoon Marine.

* Page 116, Fergus comes to visit Swofford after both were out of the Corps and Fergus has hair down to his ass. You see, since Fergus was a Super, sniper, STA Platoon Marine he could grow hair to his ass in just two years. Swofford claims his hair is now past his shoulders.

* On page 128, Swofford tells us that him being a paperboy as a kid and developed an aiming technique that would later help while tossing grenades. Swofford, how many grenades have you thrown? Probably quite a few as I remember when I was in we'd throw 50-100 of them every single day. We'd steal them and trade them for earrings out in town.

* Page 139 Swofford starts this retarded crap about sucking on bullets. Why doesn't he suck on his earrings?

* Back to the female reporter from the Boston Globe earlier in the "chronicle," on page 140 Swofford tells us that while riding in a Humvee one of his Marines makes an obscene gesture at a passing Mercedes with female Saudi Arabians. As with how the Corps (the Corps that I belonged to) handles this type of thing. Swofford and his entire STA Platoon would have gotten punished beyond belief for this type of behavior. But....... Because I wasn't a STA Platoon, Super Marine.......... Perhaps they were all given a free ride on their behavior?

* Page 143, Swofford tells us again that he was unshaven for weeks. Sure you were, Super Marine.

* Page 179, the first night of the air war, Swofford tells us that the Mighty, Mighty, Super Marine STA Platoon sleeps without a fire watch. I guess it was intentional as he never says it was an accident again. I'm thinking that enough time had passed that the enemy had heard of STA 2/7 and they didn't need a firewatch because no one in their right mind would have the nuts to attack a unit as hard and tough as STA 2/7. I mean, they never shaved for weeks at a time, drank whiskey, and carried sniper rifles. Yes, STA 2/7 was a crack, elite Marine unit for sure. I forgot, they never sipped whiskey, they always finished the entire fifth. That's impressive.

* Page 185 tells us that their Corpsman, Doc Duncan always passed out sleeping pills to anyone who wanted them. Yeah, I sure remember that. We could just approach any Corpsman and he always had sleeping pills, speed, whatever drugs we needed.

* Page 190, Swofford cries (for about the 93rd time in the book) and I believe it's the first time he pees his pants (there are more times). He's crying because he's finally earned his Combat Action Ribbon. Yeah, we all cried when we got the ribbon. Swofford, you are a retard!!! * Page 191, "Like an E-tool striking a skull." Swofford, have you heard an E-tool striking a skull? Please tell us about it.

* Page 194, Swofford tells us about his first patrol and how they had no support. He tells us that as he's leaving friendly lines, the local Sergeant knows of his plight. Sure Swofford, during patrols, especially ones where STA Platoon was involved, we always knew everything about the patrol. I knew you weren't wearing underwear. Pleeeeeeeeease !!!!

* Page 197, Swofford pees his pants for the second time. Cool, makes the "chronicle" seem so real. I want to read it again.

* Page 198, "The rest of the team returns to battalion and Johnny and I patrol the final click alone." This of course is because Swofford is so tough that only two STA Marines are needed. Did I mention that he's bulletproof as well.

* Page 204 tells us that Swofford's recruiter sold him the Marine Corps by telling him about all the ass he could get overseas. Actually two recruiters told him that at different times. Swofford is underage, a minor, still in highschool and still these Marine recruiters will sit all day and tell him that he can buy a threesome overseas for $40.00. Sure they did as they didn't value their jobs at all. With Swofford, perhaps they could have bought him big, hoop earrings and saved the sex stories.

* Pages 208-209, more Marine Recruiter *beep*

* Page 214 at the bottom, Swofford does this retarded, touchy-feeling thing with leaning his head back, opening his mouth and tasting the rain with oil mix that was falling from the sky in Kuwait. It's very special and reading it makes me cry, pee my pants and want to put earrings in.

* Page 219, Swofford is again talking serious smack as he describes an exchange over the radio where Johnny cusses and rips into the Battalion Executive Officer. I'm very sure it happened as Majors in the Marine Corps just love when junior enlisted Marines call them *beep* and Lousy Dicks" especially over the radio.

* Page 230, Swofford tells us that he and his team are not being used because they are so deadly and that they rifle company commanders want to make sure there are targets for their companies when they get there. So, Swofford and his team are told to stand down because of how dangerous, deadly and after all, they were Super Marine STA Platoon.

* Page 239, Crocket plays with dead Iraqi bodies. This whole thing, maybe a couple of pages worth is absolutely retarded. Who knows, maybe it happened but more than likely our Marine Swofford is just getting stupid again.

* Page 242, Of course there has to be a booby trap thing in the book. Nice going Swofford, you really have it all covered.

* Pages 244-245, Swofford tells us about shooting captured weapons into the air. These guys are STA Platoon and certainly bullet proof as no one gets hit when the rounds return to earth. The end of 245 is so cute, "I weep, screams, carry mad screams home with us.........." This is really good. Great job Swofford, this will sell many books......... maybe a movie will even get made.

* Page 250, one more time, Swofford is so bad that he can just order alcohol when told by a Colonel to NOT do so. This Swofford guy is BAD. Scary Bad, STA Marine.

Sorry, only trying to keep it REAL.......... very much UNLIKE what Anthony Swofford composes, has published and then generates a movie. I really have to say it again, but Swofford's book is NOT about the psychology of men in combat. I'd say it's more about a man who needed help, and still needs help. One thing is for sure, Swofford would have never made it 60 days in MY Marine Corps as we would have identified him as unstable and untrustworthy right off the bat. Last, if he would have EVER pointed a weapon at me for any reason, I would have killed him before the sun went down that day. Does that sound tough? Macho? No one points weapons at other Marines and nothing happens about it. Of course for Super Marine, Anthony Swofford....... the guy who busts up bars and never gets charged, who can run all night till the sun comes up, who likes to french kiss the muzzle of his M16, chew/suck on bullets and cry about every 8 hours, YES, I'm sure it was all so real.

I don't hate Swofford.... he was a Marine and did his time. What you and most others aren't taking into consideration is the truth. Absolutely, not just in combat or the military but even in a 9 to 5 work environment those standing next to each other would have completely different perceptions and memories of events. That is understandable. BUT........ what isn't being taking into consideration is how personal it is to us. What if it hit closer to home for you all? What if it was about YOUR high school football team, dance squad, band, softball team or even church congregation? What if someone wrote a book about an aspect of YOUR life that after you read it you wanted to puke?

Something else that you all can't seem to get through your heads even though it's been absolutely hammered home in the above posts is that Swofford doesn't just "get things mixed up." It's understandable to mix dates up, who was there and who wasn't, the name of a bar or the name of a town. We all do that due to memory and time gone by. This is to be expected and no foul called. BUT........... Swofford's errors are calculated falsehoods. All veterans absolutely HATE the blowhard sitting at the bar telling embellished war stories (guess why kerry lost this election). Swofford is exactly to us what Kerry was to the SwiftBoat Veterans. Just like the SwiftBoat Veterans, we just want the truth to be told. What I've listed above in my page by page tearing of his book is mostly stuff that we (Marines) know to be HUGE tall tales and BS. This stuff IS NOT stuff that that gets mixed up in memory over time but stuff that someone has to intentionally create. The theme to all of this BS is absolutely someone puffing his chest out and playing hardass retard.

NOW.... I'm going to throw Swofford a bone as it's only fair. First, Swofford DOES accurately capture the drinking, whoring and brotherhood that the Marine Corps truly is. Most of us would agree with that no questions asked. He and I were in the Corps at the same time and ironically, his banter about the t-shirt iron-on and parents not wanting him to join are exactly the kinds of things that I went through. I also decided to be a Marine after seeing the Beruit bombing on TV and wanted to be part of these Marines carrying their wounded Brothers out of the rubble. That was my defining moment along with Swofford's.

So, as we all keep arguing about this book. Swofford may be a good writer, but his book could have been tweaked in many ways. The bottom line is that a large portion of the book is embellishment and it VERY MUCH turns off those of us that were there. There are enough TRUE stories and incidents from that era of the Corps and Desert Storm to write 100 books and make 10 movies but it's sad that Swofford's stuff may end up being the definitive reference of it all.

The Sullen Faces of the Vanquished

2005-08-28T08:07:00.000-07:00

23 March 2003 - 2200hrs local
Major M and Gunny M arrived back at our position after being gone a couple of hours. They had been back earlier in the day to inform us of the destruction of the Army convoy and the enemy resistance around the Euphrates River Bridge. Gunny had spoken with some of the rescued Army folks and had managed to coble together an ad hoc roster of the convoy's personnel. Later he and the Major linked up with a Special Operations unit and gave them a quick brief on the convoy. Apparently someone had given information to the SOF folks that American prisoners were being held at the Tykar Hospital, just southeast of the Euphrates River Bridge. The Major and Gunny were in the process of briefing the SOF leadership when he received a call saying that the prisoners had been moved. The SOF troops departed soon after getting that call. The Major and Gunny left the roadside meeting place and linked up with us shortly after.

24 March 2003

I awoke feeling a bit better than the night before. I was still pissed off about our casualties. The night before I wrestled with conflicting theories on how we could have taken so many casualties until the combination of mental and physical exhaustion had taken its toll and I passed out about two hours after I had flopped into my skirmishers trench wrapped in my poncho liner.

The 24th started out a bit overcast. I sat up and took in my surroundings. I could see and hear the SCAMP generator humming away next to the SARC. I could see a few of the boys moving about taking care of their morning routines.

I rolled out of my poncho liner and checked my rifle and pistol. I checked the chamber on both and swapped out both magazines for fresh ones. I did this every morning to insure that there would be no stoppages in case we got into a fight before I could give the weapons a good going over. After that I brushed my teeth and shaved. I had to maintain some semblance of normalcy in the middle of this, plus I wanted to set the example for the guys.

I ambled over to the SARC to get the latest word. 1/2 was still holding the Saddam Canal Bridge. They were still having trouble locating all of their Marines, so we still didn't have an accurate accounting of casualties. I also got word from the S-3 folks that some EPW's (enemy prisoners of war) would be coming in soon. Since we were fully manned and there were only reports of brief firefights across the AO (area of operations) I decided to finish cleaning up and then link up with the interrogators. I wanted to make sure they were up to date in what questions we needed answers to.

I saw the lead interrogator, I'll call him D, over near his vehicle. "Hey D, I heard we're getting some EPW's soon. We need to talk for a minute," I yelled over to him. "Sure thing Mooch. Just let me talk to my guys first and then we'll link up," he replied.

I walked back over to my vehicle, reached inside to my pack and grabbed a fresh roll of TP. I figured it'd be better if I made my morning visitation before it got exciting. I walked just outside of our position and found a nice gully which gave me cover and concealment and began the ritual. As soon as I began to do the do, a CH-46 comes thwacking over head. 40 feet over head at that. I had forgotten that the makeshift LZ was about 200 feet off to my left flank. Great. I hoped those AirWingers liked the sight of my pasty, white ass as they settled into the LZ.

No sooner did the A/C settle into the LZ, did Doc Passanen take off running with litter crews. Apparently, they had cross-loaded some of our wounded with the EPW's. Two or three of our casualties came out along with four EPW's. Doc hustled the wounded away for continued treatment and the HQ Company folks from the S-3 provided security for the EPW detail. Fletch went with them along with Tobin, one of my other analysts. The EPW's were herded over to a spot behind a small berm outside of the internal HQ perimeter. D and I conferred over the questions to be asked. There would be the obligatory "WMD" questions and of course, questions about their units, command structure, etc. But now we also had the added questions about where the American EPW's were.

He and I walked over to them. We ordered they be separated. We didn't want them to be able to confide in each other and weave a tale of bullshit before we could talk to them. We checked their EPW tags and found that two were from the Iraqi 23rd Infantry Brigade and the other two were captured driving an ambulance full of Fedayeen dead and wounded. They told the capturing unit that they were just ambulance drivers but the idiots had forgotten to take their uniforms off. They had still been wearing their uniforms and boots under their dishdashas (which we derisively called "man dresses"). The four ranged from 5'8" to 6' tall, medium build, moustaches, trimmed hair and all were between 25 and 40. We undoubtedly had some officers in the group.

As D and his boys set about questioning them, I could see over my shoulder someone with a camera. I didn't recall any embedded reporters with us so I sent Fletch to investigate and tell the guy to knock it off. It was against the Geneva Convention to videotape EPW's for exploitation and even though I knew we wouldn't exploit them I didn't want it happening. Fletch went over and told the guy to cut the camera. I could see both talking rather animatedly. Finally the guy dropped the camera to his side. Fletch walked back over. "He said he's with some news network I never heard of." "I don't give a shit if he's with CN-fucking-N, I don't want him shooting pictures of EPW's," I replied. Fletch went back to his position of overwatch. No sooner did he take up his position, did I see the camera go back up. That's it. I've had it already. I've never had a love for newsies. In my opinion they never report anything correctly or accurately and usually they just take advantage of the subject (military members in particular) to get some senstational bullshit story and don't care about whose life is left in shambles. Well I wasn't going to be part of it.

"HEY! WEREN'T YOU JUST TOLD TO STOP FUCKING SHOOTING PICTURES OF THEM!" "Yeah, but I'm with..." he stammered. "I DON'T GIVE A FUCK, PUT THE CAMERA DOWN!" I was now moving towards him at a good pace. The camera wasn't coming down and he was backing up quickly as I approached. I grabbed the lens. "Its against the goddamn Geneva Convention for you to shoot pictures of them, plus I don't know who the fuck you are!" "You are violating the embed agreement shithead!" As I swung the camera down the lenshead came free. "You broke my fucking camera," he yelled back. "I don't care. Go tell the CO. We'll see what happens. I can guaran-fucking-tee your ass will be on the first chopper back to Kuwait!" I screamed back. He stomped off and I never saw him again.

I never heard anything about the incident either. Most of the media-types will try and intimidate the junior troops or buddy up to them. I would have neither. The media has never been a friend to the military and will likely never be.

I took a minute to cool off. I didn't want to go back to the EPW's with my blood pressure up. A couple of minutes later I was back with D.

D had identified the most senior officer and he and a MSgt were getting good info from him.
He was the Battalion Commander for 2nd Battalion, 23rd Infantry Brigade, 11th Infantry Division. His battalion had four companies but many of his troops had run away. The only company to muster most its troops was the 2nd Company. 2nd Company had four infantry platoons, one support platoon and a HQ platoon. His battalion's mission was to secure the northern perimeter of An Nasiriyah. Since he had only one full company and the remnants of two others, he had decided to use the terrain around the Saddam Canal Bridge to his advantage. Off to his western flank the Saddam Fedayeen would secure the northeastern bridge and would reinforce him as necessary. The companies had AK-47 rifles, RPG-7's, 60mm and 82mm mortars. Before the war started, his unit had been busy preparing positions along the main avenues of approach throughout An Nasiriyah. Now they were just grabbing their weapons and falling in on these ready-made positions. He also said that the brigade and division leaders had abandoned them, fearing that the Americans would kill them in battle and the Fedayeen would kill them if the Americans didn't. He said the Fedayeen had been roaming the city shooting deserters and one group had driven the dead body of an American around An Nasiriyah in an attempt to rally the troops and citizens. There was no mention of WMD so we pressed about the status of chemical munitions in his unit. He stated that there were none and if they had them, the permission to deploy them would come from Baghdad. He emphatically stated that no commander in their right mind would use chemicals against the Americans and that every leader he knew would have ignored the orders from Baghdad if they did come. They feared the wrath of the American military if they did so. Besides, there were only a handful of gas masks in the unit, so it would have meant sure death for his own troops as well as the Americans.
After that, we pressed on about the American EPW's. We were being pressured from higher echelons about their whereabouts. Despite another good hour of questioning we came up with nothing substantial.

Not long after the four were sent to a makeshift EPW compound to be processed and we received word that we'd be displacing and heading north towards An Nasiriyah.

Prayers for "Lucky Lima" and 3/25

2005-08-14T06:20:00.000-07:00

Please take a moment to say some prayers for our brothers in "Lucky Lima" Company, 3rd Battalion, 25th Marines (3/25), their parent battalion 3/25 and especially for the families of those 21 Marines that have been killed over the last few months in al-Qa'im and Hadithah. They deserve our help, prayers and most importantly our respect. Although I don't have a listing of all their casualties, I do have a listing for the the Marines from Scout/Sniper teams 7 & 8 who were killed in Hadithah:
Sgt Rock
Sgt Coullard
Cpl Boskovitch
LCpl Castleberry
LCpl Deyarmin
LCpl Montgomery
Rest easy brothers. You have been avenged and will never be forgotten.
S/F
Mooch

"Over There" Update

2005-08-14T06:05:00.000-07:00

At the urging of friends and relatives I decided to send my thoughts concerning "Over There" to the folks at FX. Some of it is a rehash of what I posted previously and the rest are additional thoughts. Truthfully I was pretty impressed with the 2nd episode. It was much closer to what I remembered but the third episode, well let's just say it wasn't up to snuff. Here's what I wrote prior to the 2nd and 3rd episodes airing:

To whom it may concern,
I'm sure that you folks have been getting more feedback on "Over There" than you'd like to address, but I felt it necessary to at least send you an email regarding it. I'm sure that you have received quite a bit of negative feedback at that. I'd like to say that I won't do that but I truthfully can't. I promised myself I would watch the show with an open mind. I did so but I feel that my thoughts would be better served by sending them to your network. I hope that these comments will be viewed or used constructively and not just filed in the round filing cabinet. :-)

I have written quite a few comments on my blog and some on a message board I frequent. I will paraphrase some for you.
-Overall I gave the pilot a D-
-The dialogue and acting were subpar.
-The stereotypes were right out of a 'Nam movie and not really applicable, especially the "militant", dope smoking black kid. He would have been caught, especially smoking dope in front of the Maint. Depot. Trust me.
-The military utilizes a unit replacement system not individual so having a squad come in as replacements is unrealistic.
-I didn't see very much racial stuff while I was there. We were all preoccupied with the mission and staying in one piece.
-There were a few things I saw that reminded me of Iraq...the soldier eating the coffee grounds, crapping in the field, sand storms, etc. But other than that I was too annoyed by the dialogue, crappy sound track and acting to pay much attention.
-Why didn't they just JDAM or have the Abrams (so prevelant in the background shots) assault the enemy position. When we came across an enemy fixed position it got leveled, mosque or no mosque. In fact most of the time the locals told us to do it.
-The IED emplacement was incorrect. The bad guys would never leave little flag markers for us to spot. If the producers/director wanted to show an IED accurately they just should have had the truck explode with no warning, that's more like what have really happened anyway. Then follow it up with small arms fire. Also there wouldn't be any time for the "Dim" character to start wigging out. He'd be on flank security. The breakdown would have come later when he had time to sit down and think. And it wouldn't have been as bad if he'd only known the wounded kid for a few days (unless they were unusually close).
-They don't use Huey's for medevacs anymore and the one used was even painted incorrectly, skids were wrong and it wasn't configured for litters as a medevac would normally be. Plus it wouldn't have had a door gunner because it violates the Geneva Convention rules (no weapons on medevac flights-non-combatant status violation).
-The chatter between the troops was "plastic". When I was there we talked about alot of different things while rolling across the desert but it was simple stuff...getting laid, good food, a soft roll of TP, etc. We never tried to analyze each other or the war or why we joined the military.
-There was little to no use of flank security.
-There was no use of battle buddies when taking a crap.
-There was no use of reflex shooting when coming back with the female soldier. I'm mean come on, the kid stops, drops to a knee and then shoots the tango. This isn't a firing range. We normally take the shot while moving and ruck on.
-The Sgt standing, fully exposing himself from the abdomen up during the firefight to tell them to "get some" was just too much. Totally campy and not accurate, not to mention unprofessional.
-The tangos advancing in massed formation in the open. Never happens.
-The soldiers advancing on line with no base of fire/fire and maneuver. And please don't tell me that the two female soldiers (with one operating rifle) remaining in the rear were the BoF element.
-There was no need to attempt to establish all of the characters in the first episode. If its a series you have plenty of time to do that. They should have just given a cursory "drive-by" intro to all but the Sgt. Since he's the focal character, he needed to have more time spent on him. Then work the character development of the squad into subsequent episodes.

I could go on for days with things that were wrong with this show. Yes, the uniforms and weapons were on, but hell that's one of the easiest thing to get right. Most airsoft wannabees could perform that advisory function for the show. Get the tactics and dialogue right. Don't make us into walking cartoons. It just infuriates me to no end that you don't portray these kids as mission oriented. That's just about every troop/Marine I ever knew. They almost to a man (and most of the time women) want to mix it up with the tangos and prove their metal. Its after the first few months you begin to feel mortal, especially after you see people you know get hit. Even then it becomes a question of getting payback/revenge.

They (the producers/director) really need to take a good look at the comments coming in from the vets and make the necessary changes to turn this into something valuable and worthy of honoring the folks that serve/served there.

These are my observations based on 5 months in theater including 2 weeks straight of heavy fighting in Nasiriyah during the beginning of the war. I hope they will provide you with some guidance for improvements.
Semper Fidelis,
M

As of this post there has been no response from FX. I gave them all of my contact info so they have no excuse. Hell even an email saying, "we got your critique, thanks and f**k off" would have been nice. I can see by the episodes that there is an agenda with the show and the producers/director can say "we want to memorialize the troops and their efforts" all they want, you don't have to be a genius to see where they are going with it.
S/F
Mooch

Over Where?!?!

2005-07-30T14:03:00.000-07:00

I figured I'd post a little critique of FX's new show Over There. I'm usually a fan of the stuff FX comes out with, Rescue Me being one of my favorite shows. So I figured if they put as much work into making Over There accurate, well then they'd have a real winner on their hands. Let's just say I was less than thrilled with the pilot episode. Here's a excerpt of the review I put on one of the military forums I frequent (BHD93.com).

"The show was horrible. The dialogue and acting were pathetic. The stereotypes were right out of a 'Nam movie. I didn't see very much racial stuff while I was there. We were all preoccupied with the mission and staying in one piece. There were a few things I saw that reminded me of Iraq...the soldier eating the coffee grounds, shitting in the field, sandstorms, etc. But other than that I was too annoyed by the dialogue, crappy soundtrack and acting to pay much attention. Ditto on whoever mentioned why didn't they just JDAM the enemy position. When we came across an enemy fixed position it got leveled, mosque or no mosque. In fact most of the time the locals told us to do it. Oh yeah even the IED emplacement was crappy. The bad guys would never leave little flag markers for us to spot. If the producers/director wanted to show an IED accurately they just should have had the truck explode with no warning, thats more like what have really happened anyway. Even the chatter between the troops was "plastic". When I was there we talked about alot of different things while rolling across the desert but it was simple stuff...getting laid, good food, a soft roll of TP, etc. We never tried to analyze each other or the war or why we joined the military. Where Band of Brothers captured the look and feel, this show fell flat on getting the basics right. It was blatantly obvious that the producers/director paid no attention to detail. My biggest worry is that John Q. Citizen will watch this shit and think that its an accurate depiction of what went on/is going on over there."

I emboldened the last sentence because of all of the things I wrote I wanted people that read my blog to understand that war especially this one is nothing like what is presented for consumption by mainstream media, Hollywood, the news channels, etc. None of them ever get it right except for two exceptions, Saving Private Ryan and Band of Brothers, other than those two shining examples the rest is just pure, unadulterated shit. Please keep that in mind when Hollywood sees fit to give you what they feel is an accurate and honest view of the war, any war.
Semper Fi,
Mooch
PS Supposedly the military advisor is a Marine SSgt. From the product it looks as though he never spent a day in Iraq.

Futures Lost, Futures Gained

2005-06-26T12:57:00.000-07:00

These days, as I ponder the distinct possibility of a second deployment to Iraq, my thoughts wander to my son and daughter. Their smiling faces flash across my minds eye, warming my soul. The future, my future is bright and shining, even if I’m not in it because I know that my legacy will live on without me. I don’t relish thinking about my children growing up without me. Kids need their parents. My daughter, as beautiful as she is as a child, will be a stunner as a woman, just like her mother. She’ll need me to fend off the less than stellar suitors that will surely come, as she gets older. And my son will need me to teach him how to play hockey and lacrosse and to be fair and stick up for his friends. They’ll need me to read to them and help them with math and all of the other tiny details that will help shape them and make them good, strong, independent adults.

Do you know what hurt more than anything else during those last hectic days in March of 2003? Thinking of those Marines we lost during that terrible time in Nasiriyah. I remember the sun beating down on my helmet, the smell of a decaying country in my nostrils and the beautiful, bright blue sky with wispy clouds dotting its expanse. But most of all I remember the futures lost during those first confusing days of combat where America lost some of its finest and where I stood feeling helpless as it unfolded around me. That’s what I thought about as I stared at the sky from my trench, desperately trying to fall asleep on 23 March 2003.

The Cost

2005-06-26T12:51:00.000-07:00

The Cost
As the sky began to darken, we had gotten word that 1/2 had been hit hard capturing and holding the bridges over the Euphrates and the Saddam Canal.
I remember walking over to the CP and checking the casualty board. What I saw staggered me.

US KIA – 50, US WIA – 75.

What the fuck happened up there?
I couldn’t believe that in this day and age that a Marine Corps unit, MY Marine Corps unit, could have lost that many Marines in a single engagement. No way, no how, I refused to believe it.
“Major Tanner, are those numbers right!?!?” “They’re best guesses right now Mooch.” “1/2 is still in a real gun fight up there and there’s no way for them to get an accurate accounting of everyone. But they’re trying, “ he added seeing the concerned expression on my face. It was meant to assure me things weren’t as bad as it looked, but it didn’t work at all. I walked away from the CP feeling very pissed off. I couldn’t understand what had happened up there.

Cpl C. trotted over. “SSgt, Capt. S. wants to talk to you.” “Thanks C. I’m on my way.”
The sounds of battle started to fade as I made my way over to where the Captain was. I found him next to the vehicle. He was trying to make sense of some of the traffic that came in. “The XO wants to set up the COC.”
What the hell for?!?, I thought to myself. “Sir what for? You know as well as I do we’re just going to have to pack up all this shit tomorrow morning and take off again. He isn’t stupid enough to think we’re going to staying here for a while…is he?” The Skipper was short of patience after the long day. He had been chewed on enough by the XO today that he certainly didn’t want to discuss the matter. “Look SSgt, don’t give me any shit on this, just put the fuckin’ SARC up.” I didn’t agree with the order but I roger’ed up. What the fuck else was I going to do? “Sure thing Sir.”
I looked around at the guys. “Alright, you heard the Captain. Let’s get the SARC up. Sgt. S. check in with the S-3 and find out where they’re putting the COC at. Once that’s done plot the SARC out and then have SCAMP drop their generator off. I don’t want to run off of HQ’s generator if we don’t have to. After that get the systems hooked up and set the watch.” “Aye, SSgt.” I turned to Fletch, “Fletch, stage the vehicle over there” I pointed to a spot about 20 yards away, “then get comm. checks and monitor the nets.” He smiled because he thought he was getting out of setting up the SARC that is until I ruined his buzz. “Switch out with Tobin in 15 minutes.”
As I located places for our guys to bed down, I thought about everything that had happened and what I thought I missed. The first thing that came to mind was that the guys must have used Ambush Alley despite our protests. I knew that it would be impossible to get any accurate answers that night so I went about getting everyone in place.

The sensor crew, called SCAMP, backed their vehicle in and dropped off their generator. By using theirs, we wouldn’t have fluctuating power from the already overworked generators of the headquarters element. I then paced off enough distance between the vehicle and our bed down site. You don’t want to be too close to vehicle, just in case someone starts shooting because the first thing they aim for is the big, green hunk of metal with wheels.

Once the guys finished setting up the SARC, they began digging their trenches and getting set in for the night. We laid out fields of fire along the western flank and got the watch stood up. It was going to be a very long night.

2005-05-08T18:05:00.000-07:00

Card from Hack - Here's a card I received from Hack back in 1991. I had just signed on the dotted line for the Corps. I had wrote him a letter inquiring about his former RTO and had some things to say about About Face. It was nice of him to take the time out to write. We corresponded a number of times over the years. We didn't always agree on everything except for maybe killing the enemy and keeping our guys alive, but we gave each other room to voice our opinions. Hack, I'll see you on the last DZ. Semper Fidelis.

Colonel David H. Hackworth, 1930-2005, RIP

2005-05-07T11:30:00.000-07:00

I recently found out that Col. David Hackworth had passed away. Hack was a pretty special guy. He really lived the “American dream”. He grew up an orphan and later joined the Army at the end of World War II. He rose in rank to command an infantry battalion in Vietnam. He would later blow the whistle on what he considered the mishandling of the war effort by senior leadership. At the time he was considered one of the most promising officers in the Army and would have undoubtedly gone on to general’s stars. Despite his inauspicious exit from the Army, he focused his efforts on business and later became a millionaire running a very popular restaurant in Australia.

What made Hack special was the fact that his meteoric ascension in rank was caused by his combat record and not because of politics or the “good-ole-boy” network. What really made Hack the real deal was his abilities as a guerilla fighter. He was also very capable in motivating even the sorriest troopers, instilling pride and sense of purpose. That ability coupled with his love of soldiers, kept him from wasting his troops lives needlessly and endeared him to his troops.

Looking back, Hack pissed off many heavy hitters and probably took part in some “activities” that were outside of regs, but most of the time this was done to improve the welfare of his men. As far as I'm concerned the old adage still applies, "all's fair in love and war".

I recently corresponded with a close friend of Hack’s. Here’s what I wrote him.

"Although I hadn't corresponded with Hack in a few years, I felt like I had been punched in the gut when I read the obit. I didn't agree on many of the things Hack went after in the last couple of years (I still feel that you have to chose those fights better than he did, much of that s**t he highlighted, although true, still rolled down onto the kids he was fighting to protect), but I always respected his insights as a warfighter. I brought Steel My Soldiers Hearts with me in theater and used many of his insights from that and the Primer to go after the Fedayeen, especially in Nasiriyah. We killed ~2k enemy in a city that is comparable in size to Najaf, Ramadi and Fallujah and with the exception of Fallujah, we still don't own any of them. His insights had a direct impact on our controlling Nasiriyah in such a short period of time. He was a great man and we are weaker not having him around.
I use that postcard I sent you as a bookmark in my copy of About Face. AF is so worn from being read over and over again that the spine has disintegrated after all these years.
I'll be there in Arlington in my Alpha's when the time comes. I hope to see you there."

Anyway, despite all of the issues that developed over the years with Hack, I'll always remember his words of encouragement and his insights on taking the fight to the enemy.

Colonel, you will be sorely missed.
Semper Fidelis.

Mail Bag

2005-04-26T16:53:00.000-07:00

I just received some emails from Capt. S. so I figured I relay what he had to say.

Mooch-
Why do I have to find out about this site from 2nd hand sources? I had to find out from the Maj. Thanks a lot. Remember, I know you. I spent 48 hours straight with you in the Hummer as we crossed the desert speaking in dialect ranging from New York Italian immigrants to Iraqi peasants.
Capt S

I guess I have a little explaining to do. First off, the good Captain accuses me of not telling him I had a blog or that he was a central character. Beats the crap out of me. I thought I had told him. Good thing he spoke with the Major and got the straight skinny. Secondly the Captain without reading the blog, made sure to point out that I better not embellish anything or distort the truth (not a chance). Lastly, the dialect thing...well it's kind of hard to explain. From the beginning then. While in Kuwait we were attempting to learn some Iraqi words in order to make it easier to deal with prisoners and locals. The system worked well. We would put a couple of words a day on the white board and everyone would memorize them. Well Marines can never just do things the normal way. In order to make the learning process smoother we all started to say the words like Iraqis (well at least how we thought they should speak!) Long, bellowing "YYYEEESSS" would answer just about any question. Rolling RRRR's, the whole kit and kaboodle worth of pigdin English-Iraqi. Anyway, it wasn't enough during the long road marches for us to just stick with the English-Iraqi, soon we were speaking Arnold Schwarzenegger English and Italian-accented English. I know it doesn't sound funny, but you just had to be there for it. Anyway, the Captain advised us that the moment we got home, our wives would outlaw the speaking of the English-Iraqi and just as he predicted, it only took two or three times before my wife put the kibash on it. You know what I said when she did? "YYYYEEEESSSS!" (Again it's funnier if you where there.)

I asked the Captain what he thought about the blog and he sent a few comments:
SSgt-
I am still reading it. I just read Morning person. Good description and comical. I will let you know.
Capt S

SSgt-
reads well and accurate. Jarred a lot of memories. Fletcher's helmet made me laugh aloud. I forgot about that. What a Jerk.

That comment about Fletch being a jerk well it's not meant with malice. Fletch would be the first to tell you. Whenever we thought someone was acting dumb or did something stupid, well the automatic response was "what a jerk". Again something you had to be there for.

SSgt-
The way you portrayed the XO was to the "T".
Capt S

Anyway, it was good to hear from the Captain.
S/F
Mooch

2005-04-23T13:53:00.000-07:00

This was one of the T55's that Major M. referred to in his account. The tank was located just east of Route 7/8 as you crossed over the small railroad bridge. The Major was feverishly counting this and eight other destroyed tanks when the Iraqis fired an RPG at the two vehicle column. Luckily the Iraqis are horrible shots and the RPG sailed harmlessly away. Nice shootin' haji! Photo credit: Eric Ferferberg/AFP

2005-04-23T13:48:00.000-07:00

This is looking south down Route 7/8 just before you enter the outskirts of Nasiriyah. To the rear of the picture you can see a small bridge. That is the railroad bridge referred to by Major M. in his account. The smoke to the left of the picture is coming from an oil tank that was hit. The smoke coming from the center of the picture near the bridge is from a T55 that was destroyed by 1/2's CAAT team. Photo courtesy of Richard Lowry via an RCT-2 Marine.

2005-04-23T12:16:00.000-07:00

This is the statue at the intersection where the TAC was mortared. I believe this was a monument to Iraq's victory over the British. Photo courtesy of Sgt Ray Cheung

Filling In Some Gaps

2005-04-23T10:50:00.000-07:00

Sorry I've been away for so long.

I was interviewed by Richard Lowry for his upcoming book, Marines in the Garden of Eden, which details RCT-2's actions in Nasiriyah. It was during his interviews that I realized that I really didn't know much about what the TAC had done while away from the main body of Headquarters Company. I mean I knew basically what they had been doing but I sure didn't know much in the way where exactly had they been and what they had seen. One of the things that I really wanted to know about was where was the TAC and what did they see as we pushed up Route 7/8. The TAC had jumped off and headed up to where the 507th was being rescued by Alpha Company, 8th Tanks. As they proceeded up the road, they drove into the seam between 1/2 and 2/8.

So in order to fill in some of those info gaps, I reached out to the Marines who were there.

I spoke with my former S-2, Major M. and my S-2 Chief, Gunny M. and here's what they had to say.

From Gunny M.
"The TAC never made it up to 1/2 as they attacked to seize the bridges. We only got as far as 2/8. We saw the Army Dragon Wagons burning on the road as we approached the (railroad) bridge. As we crested the bridge we spotted the T-55's burning and we could see 2/8's vehicles peeled off the road as the TAC approached the intersection with a statue (a monument to the defeat of the British if I recall correctly). As we hit the intersection the Iraqis RPG'ed and mortared us. The fire was nothing to get excited about. It was inaccurate and sporadic and it wasn't even like the Iraqis were trying to hit us or maybe they had just happen to see green vehicles and started shooting. Anyway, we backed out of the intersection and came back down the road to 2/8's CP (Command Post). There we assisted in conducting some field interrogation of some prisoners that 2/8 had taken. Later we returned to the (Regimental) Main CP to make our report because comms were so bad."

From Major M.
"After we arrived, we pulled north of you, and set up on the west side of the road (Route 7/8), and began to get ourselves together - we did not push forward until after the meeting at the Main. To my recollection, after the big pow-wow on the hood of the HMMWV at the Main with the CG (Task Force Tarawa Commanding General - BGen. Natonski), the CO (Regimental CO - Colonel Bailey) wanted to push forward to quickly discuss the attack with LtCol Grabowski (1/2's CO) face-to-face, give his guidance, see what he needed, and gain more situational awareness of the unfolding events. He turned to me and the 3 (Regimental S-3 Major Kennedy), and told us to jump in his vehicle. Along with a HQ HMG HMMWV, we pushed north in the city. The CO's vehicle was in the lead - I was sitting next to him in the back behind the driver, with the 3 in the front. Behind us was the HMG vehicle. We began to crest the RR bridge,and carefully drove around the 507th LVS burning - it was completely engulfed in flames. You could distinctly hear the crack of small arms and automatic weapons ahead of us. And here we are, the CO, the OpsO,and the Deuce, driving forward in a soft skin HMMWV (which I must admit we didn't even take into consideration, and I didn't even think about until after the war and all the publicity about the un-armored HMMWVs last year...). Afterwards, Gunner W. (Regimental Gunner riding in the HMG rig) said that an RPG shot passed right over/behind his vehicle as we went over the RR bridge, from the left side (I didn't see that as I was intensely counting the T-55s to our right). We kind of slowed down/paused on the down ramp side of the bridge - the T-55 closest to the road on the right was fully engulfed in flames. I recall the bridge was covered with MG links, brass, discarded TOW tubes. Ahead of us, at the crossroads was more of the 507th convoy, to the left side of the crossroads - it was a mess - at least two or three vehicles smashed up, open containers, gear everywhere... Again, everywhere you looked there was the spent brass, links, etc. We pulled forward, and directly ahead of us, about 100m north of the crossroads, was Palehorse - C/1/2. Their tracks were herringboned on the road, with all the Marines standing up in the troop compartments, engines running, ready to get it on. A orange and white taxi was speeding towards the crossroads, from east to west. The small arms fire was intensifying, and in the distance we could actually hear the pneumatic plunk of mortars from our right front. Undoubtedly the crossroads were preregistered - who knows? More than likely they were just using Kentucky windage. The 3, being the supporting arms guru he is, called it first, along with a few expletives. They had to been using direct lay for us to hear them. The taxi went through the intersection, and kept going - within seconds the first rounds landed to our left side, about 40m away. "Holy shit" were the words I recall using - I saw the impact - it hit just on the other side of a small wall, and the loose, corrugated tin went flying high into the air. Simultaneously, Palehorse's tracks began to gun their engines - I remember the plumes of black exhaust, and they began to uncoil from their position and race forward to the Euphrates. The small arms really started to get going. I looked at my watch and it was a few minutes after 1200Z - obviously Charlie had gotten the word to push forward -the attack was underway. Our intent was to speak with LtCol Grabowski, but this never occurred - by my estimation, he was probably already across the bridge or had just crossed when we linked up with C/1/2. Right after the mortar hits, we got moving ASAP, drove forward a few hundred meters, then turned around, and returned to the CP. Once we got back, the TAC saddled up, and moved all together to the outside of the city, where we stayed until we linked up with you the next day."

So according to the Major and Gunny, they were never able to link up with 1/2 before they launched to take the bridges. Sometime during this period they were able to get a list of the members of the 507th from either the convoys commander or our tankers. Later the Gunny would use this info to brief some SOF folks in preparation of a raid to rescue our POW's. That brief would occur sometime after the Major and Gunny's meeting with us where they reported the burning vehicles and tanks. That's another story for another posting.

For more information on our fight for Nasiriyah, read Gary Livingston's An Nasiriyah: The Fight for the Bridges and GySgt. Jason Doran's I Am My Brother's Keeper, Journal of a Gunny in Iraq.
Also keep a lookout for Richard Lowry's upcoming book, Marines in the Garden of Eden. Here is a small passage from a press release regarding Richard's book, for which he has interviewed over one hundred participants of the Battle of Nasiriyah:
"The story starts with the ambush of the Army’s 507th Maintenance Company, the cold-blooded murder of Sergeant Donald Walters and the capture of Jessica Lynch. Eleven American soldiers died at dawn on the 23rd of March, but that was just the beginning of this compelling story. Marines of the 2nd Marine Regiment fought a week-long battle for the ancient city of Nasiriyah. Their story is one of heroism and sacrifice, of comedy and tragedy, and of life and death."
I can truthfully say that Richard has done an outstanding job of researching and recreating the battle. This book will be a fantastic memorial to all those who fought in Nasiriyah. I hope you will take the time to read it when it is published.
Thanks and Semper Fidelis,
Mooch

The Enemy

2005-03-07T09:52:00.000-08:00

Over the last couple of weeks I've spent a lot of my time reading up on our enemy. If you have the time and want a glimpse into the mind of our current foe I highly suggest you pick up:

The Sling and The Stone by Col. Thomas X. Hammes, USMC
and
Tactics of the Crescent Moon by H. John Poole

Of the two books I'm currently reading Crescent Moon. Poole does a great job of combing through the history of the tactics of our enemies. In that research, he defines the common threads of their tactics. Tactics which have not substantially changed since in centuries. Our foes make up for their lack of sophistication by improving their small unit capabilities.

One interesting topic that Poole covers is the use of suicide bombing. Poole explains the dicotomy in the usage of suicide bombing and how it directly conflicts with the writings in the Koran. With that examination, Poole points out directly how our enemies distort the tenets of their own religion to justify their hatred and killing of anyone/anything "western".

So if you'd like a look into the tactics of our foes in the Global War on Terrorism, pick up a copy of those books.

My Eternal Thanks

2005-02-13T06:41:00.000-08:00

Recently my best friend's mother sent me a story about two young Marines and their experiences flying home from Iraq. They were saluted and cared for by the people on the plane and I just wanted to share my response to her. My best friend's Mom, Joan, has a father who fought the Germans in WW2 with the 24th Infantry Division, a brother who passed away that served in Vietnam with the Army and her son, my best friend, that served in the Marines and Naval Reserve. She considers me her son as well. She has also supported the military and continues to do so. I call her Mom out of respect because she has been one, on many occasions, for me.

"Mom,
I remember when I flew out of Kuwait. We went out on a US Air flight from Kuwait City and this was the first trip by the flight crew from the Middle East bringing troops home. (I was on one of the first flights bringing a large group of troops home). My friend George and I walked on the plane and it was decorated stem to stern with yellow ribbons, American flags and big "Thank You" posters. George and I were seated right near the flight crew area and we were the subject of great interest and affection. Everyone of them, Capt. and flight officers included, showered us with congratulations, hugs, handshakes, etc. It felt really good to be appreciated like that, but also very embarrassing.
You know how I am, I don't really think that I did anything special. No more special than anyone else who was there and I'm not one to accept praise easily. When Lejeune held that big old parade for us when we got back, I didn't even go. I guess for me, it has to do more about the homecoming our Vietnam vets never got. They never got one, so why should I/we? It has nothing to do with my appreciation of what our citizens are doing for us. I have the utmost respect for those folks. Many of them have trouble making ends meet but still take the time and money to show appreciation for what we do and for that I am indebted to them.
For a few minutes on that plane coming home, I allowed myself to bask in the glow of their attention. I can't lie, it felt wonderful, but it was fleeting because I closed myself back up soon after. I appreciate it all, but in respect for our Viet vets, I can never in good conscience take part in any of it. I may feel different about it many years from now, but not now. God bless our citizens who support the military. You guys are the one's who make us go and do what we do. We do it for you.
Love,
M"

2005-02-04T13:05:00.000-08:00

Tarawa Main - While RCT-2 was taking the bridges in Nasiriyah, Task Force Tarawa Main was scrambling to catch up. RCT-2 had taken off for the bridges early on the 23rd of March. As we were making our assault, Tarawa Main was leaving Phase Line Queensland, well south of Jalibah Airfield. Seen here are elements of Tarawa Main. In the background, two CH-46 Frogs are flying. Both may have been moving up to support RCT-2 as medevacs. Photo Credit: Sgt Ray Cheung.

2005-02-04T06:50:00.000-08:00

Marines of Charlie Company Pour Out of Their Track - North of the Saddam Canal Bridge, Marines of Charlie Company began unassing their tracks as enemy fire began to pick up. The huge lumbering beast were like lead magnets and attracted enemy fire. None of the guys wanted to be around them when RPG's came in. From just about every position Charlie Company occupied they could see Sgt Bitz's track that carried Third Platoon burning on the road. Despite their propensity for attracting fire, the tracks had a turret that housed a .50 caliber and 40mm machine gun which provided awesome fire power in the support role. Photo Credit: Joe Raedle c/o GySgt Kevin Barry

2005-01-30T09:18:00.000-08:00

The track carrying Third Platoon, Charlie, 1/2 burns after being hit by RPG fire. You can see the fire burning inside as a result of the exploding AT-4 rockets. This is north of the Saddam Canal Bridge right outside the Iraqi 23rd INF Headquarters building, of which is visible to the right rear of the track. Photo Credit: Joe Raedle c/o GySgt Kevin Barry.

2005-01-30T09:14:00.000-08:00

This is a great shot of Bravo, 1/2 moving through eastern Nasiriyah. As you can see by the houses and the built up nature of the area, this was not the ground we wanted to fight on. It was too easy to hit civilians and too hard to identify targets before firing, but the boys did a great job trying to shoot bad guys only.

2005-01-30T09:03:00.000-08:00

This photo gives a good view of the positions seen by Timberwolf's Company's as they moved over the bridges. To the upper left you can see part of a the trenchline that ran parallel to the river bank. It was from here that Fedayeen would fire on our guys. And everyone that was killed would be soon replaced by another. We didn't have enough troops to secure the whole stretch of Ambush Alley so the enemy was able to fall back on those positions time and time again. This didn't stop until we got 15th MEU on deck along with 1/2 to seal the northern entrance into Nasiriyah. Photo Credit: CWO Dunfee.

2005-01-30T08:45:00.000-08:00

Elements of 2/8 clearing villages south of the Euphrates. As you can see because of the terrain, urban ops are the most dangerous and nerve-wracking operations of all. 2/8 was magnificent conducting many of these over the course of our time in Nasiriyah.

2005-01-30T08:32:00.000-08:00

1/10 as seen on the side of Route 7/8. As you can see, they batteries are set with guns trained north into the city. What you can't see is the garbage dumps that bordered the north and south sides of the position. It made for a lovely combination of smells when it got hot.

The Larger Picture

2005-01-30T07:17:00.000-08:00

I wanted to take a moment to write about what the other units were doing at this stage of the fight.

As written previously, Charlie Company, 1/2 was fighting through Ambush Alley and over the Saddam Canal Bridge. They had one track burning north of the Canal Bridge from an RPG hit. The RPG caused secondary detonations of AT-4's that were stored in the track as well. It was horrific with many Marines suffering wounds to their extremities. The remaining Marines and Corpsmen evaced the injured from the track, all the while engaging the Fedayeen positions that were attempting to gain fire superiority over the embattled company. Doc Fonseca, a Corpsman attached to Charlie Company, would later be decorated with the Navy Cross for his actions that day.

Bravo Company, 1/2 was trying to extricate themselves from the impassable terrain east of Ambush Alley. Some of their elements had pushed up the alleyways paralleling Ambush Alley. There they fought a ferocious urban battle, fighting an enemy on multiple planes. Many times Bravo Company Marines had to engage targets on the ground and then adjust to fire at Fedayeen on the roofs of houses all the while pressing forward toward the Saddam Canal Bridge. Despite three of M1A1 Abrams tanks being mired in the sewage and mud, the Abrams crews engaged enemy positions with main gun rounds and machine gun fire, all the while trying to extricate themselves under small arms and RPG fire. The enemy fire did not prevent the tankers from moving outside of their tanks while trying to free them.

Alpha Company, 1/2 was fully engaged on the west side of Ambush Alley. After clearing the Euphrates River Bridge, Alpha pivoted west and was immediately met by a hail of machine gun, mortar and RPG fire. The enemy had hastily dug defensive positions along the northern bank of the Euphrates and along the house and store fronts bordering that bank of the river. Under heavy covering fire from the upguns on the tracks, Alpha disembarked and assaulted towards the positions, knocking out many of them. These were the positions I had tried so desperately to radio to Timberwolf. I still don't know if the message ever got to Alpha Company.

Both 3/2 (Betio) and 2/8 (Warpath) were strung out along Route 7/8. They too were trying to get a handle on what was going on. 3/2 had started sending elements to the western bridge crossing to relieve elements of 2nd Force Recon. 2/8 was clearing enemy positions south of the Euphrates in preparation of relieving Alpha and Bravo, 1/2 at the Euphrates River Bridge. This would allow Alpha and Bravo to assault north and relieve Charlie. But for 2/8 the going was exceeding slow because of the terrain and amount of dwellings that had to be cleared. If you have never done building clearing in a MOPP suit, during the middle of the day in the Middle East, you can't begin to comprehend what a difficult endeavor it is. 2/8 was doing an outstanding job. 1/10 had positioned themselves along Route 7/8, got their batteries up and had been firing in support of the battalions since the opening stages of the fight. They would continue to fire like "automatic artillery" day in and day out until Regimental Combat Team-2 left Nasiriyah on 2 April. They were phenomenal.

The Regimental HQ (where I was) was set up along the road to the south of Nasiriyah. We were attempting to assist our TAC with control of the battle, all along trying to put together an accurate picture of what was happening. We then tried to inform TF Tarawa (our higher Headquarters) of the situation. You see the TF did not own any air assets (Cobra's, A-10's, F/A-18's, etc.) so because of the weird command relationship with regards to air power, we had to ask for missions. Now if the TF couldn't explain why we needed them air, we wouldn't get it. This is why it was so important that we give them a complete a picture as possible. We must have done a good enough job because in short order the sky was flooded with aircraft of all types.

I hope this helps everyone understand the larger picture of what was happening in our little corner of the war.

Hearts and Minds Baby!

2005-01-29T18:56:00.000-08:00

I just established comms with former Sgt. Ray Cheung.
Ray was attached to Task Force Tarawa from 4th Civil Affairs Group. Ray and his fellow CAG guys were extremely under-utilized IMHO. They had tremendous skill sets and capabilities and we as a fighting unit just failed to bring those options to bear. Once the rounds stop flying, it's all about hearts and minds.

After blasting the crap out of everything in Nasiriyah, we used the CAG bubbas to broadcast things like how to stay away from Marine checkpoints and avoid driving real fast towards Marine patrols but what we really should have been doing is using them more to collaborate with the locals on how to rebuild their cities (with them taking the lead). As the campaign wore on we got better using them with the cumlination being the pacification of al-Kut. 4th CAG Marines did a fantastic job when they were allowed.

If you get a chance, stop by Ray's blog. He does a great job describing what it was like moving up to the border, waiting for the go and then waiting out Scud alerts in full chem gear and later helping to recover our Marines who were killed in the fighting in Nasiriyah.
http://www.rkcheung.com/2004_03_01_archive.php

2005-01-29T08:25:00.000-08:00

This is the easterrn side of Route 7/8 looking north towards Nasiriyah. The smoke billowing in the distance comes from the burning vehicles of PVT Jessica Lynch's convoy and an oil tank that was hit during the opening stages of RCT-2's fight. My unit set up to the west of this position and it was from there we attempted to control the battle, all the while with Cobras and fast-movers screaming over our heads. All though it doesn't appear to be so in the picture, in a few hours the sun would be up in full force and my Marines and I began a full day of baking under the sun in heavy MOPP suits all the while trying to help our fellow Marines fighting in the city. It was extremely frustrating.

2005-01-23T05:54:00.000-08:00

One of Col. Ray's LAV's waiting to pass through our positions. This one was a TOW vehicle capable of launching two TOW anti-tank missiles from the turret (in the travel position in the picture, with the fluorescent air panel on it).

2005-01-23T05:50:00.000-08:00

Where Team Tank Got Stuck - Located just east of Route 7/8, north of the Euphrates River Bridge, this field was where Team Tank with 1/2's Command Element got stuck in the early hours of the battle. Of course it didn't look like this when they tried to moved across it. The sun had dried what appeared to be a thick crust across the top and it looked to be passable. As soon as the first couple of vehicles advanced into the field they immediately bogged down approximately 2.5 feet into a combination of raw sewage and mud. Saddam's secret weapon, mud and shit.

2005-01-23T05:41:00.000-08:00

Cobras being Relieved on Station just south of Nasiriyah, due west of RCT-2's Headquarters position.

2005-01-23T05:39:00.000-08:00

Snakes in the Grass - A pair of Cobras screams past our location heading back towards Jalibah to hit the FARP (Forward Arming and Refueling Point). Cobras were a constant sight over Nasiriyah for the first 6 days of the battle. They were superb and the Iraqis were deathly afraid of them. HMLA-269 flew missions in support of RCT-2 in Nasiriyah. Thanks guys. We owe you one.

Meeting of the War Council

2005-01-23T05:27:00.000-08:00

Team Tank finally was refueled and on the move. I silently cheered as I watched them race through our positions and up to the fight. With names like Money Shot, Ghetto Fabulous, Young Guns and Think Tank, the huge steel monsters created dusts clouds as they shot up the road at high speed. Virtually invulnerable, I thought that they would be able to reduce any enemy threat in a short period.

BGen. Natonski stalked over to the CP. The TAC had come back in so Col. Bailey was already there. While they talked, elements of RCT-1 had pulled up Route7/8 with 2nd Light Armored Recon (2nd LAR) in the lead. Col. Joe Dowdy commanded RCT-1 and Col. Eddie Ray commanded 2nd LAR, both seemed to be in a big hurry. I did not know Dowdy by face at the time, but I had met Col. Ray on several occasions. He was awarded the Navy Cross for using his LAR platoon to save the 1st Marine Division CP during the advance to Kuwait City in 1991.

Col. Ray recognized me from a number of briefings I gave at II MEF (II Marine Expeditionary Force at Camp Lejeune) that he had attended.

“So SSgt, what have we got up there?” “This is what we’re looking at Sir.” And I laid it out for him. The Colonel cut an imposing figure. He was huge; over six feet tall and built like a fullback, but with a well-chewed cigar clenched between his teeth. Contrary to standing orders, the Colonel stripped down to his t-shirt and MOPP suit bottoms (I MEF as an extension of CFLCC – Combat Forces, Land Component Commander, the Army overall Command in Camp Doha, Kuwait, had ordered that all forces would operate in MOPP 2, suit top and bottoms, until further notice).

As I finished my brief, he rocked back and forth on his heels. He looked at and questioned several points along the Alley where we had surmised the enemy had been massing forces and fires, but for the most part they utilized hit and run tactics. Fortunately 2nd LAR was adept at busting through such short duration ambushes. With their 25mm Bushmaster cannon, vast array of automatic weapons and great speed, the LAV’s usually blasted through ambushes before they could be seriously damaged. Still this would be a hell of a test for this fine unit. Before we could speak again, Colonel Bailey gathered the senior leaders around.

As they gathered, I could tell that tensions were high. It was apparent from the conversation that this wasn’t going to be a cordial sit-down. I ghosted at the edge of the meeting, trying to catch snippets of conversation, all the while attempting to maintain visibility on the current intel situation.

Col. Dowdy wanted to know when he could get his RCT through Ambush Alley. Col. Bailey explained that we controlled the bridges but we did not hold the ground between them. I was then called away by Fletch who had come in from the flank to man the radio and map board.

We were getting incomplete pieces of info from the tanks. A number of them had gotten stuck in the mud as they tried to pivot to the southeast around Ambush Alley. They had three tanks along with some elements of 1/2 stuck in the mud and were taking fire from multiple positions. We could hear the firing from where we sat and pairs of Cobra’s would sprint back and forth, up to the city and added their 20mm and rocket fire to the cacophony of the battle.

The Cobra’s weren’t the only aircraft in the air. I could see F/A-18 Hornets and A-10 Warthogs dashing across the sky. The sky was beautiful, sunny with rows of clouds sprinkled throughout the blue. It took brief notice of its beauty as the battle raged north.

I looked over my shoulder to catch a glimpse at the meeting. Col. Ray was very animated. Angry words were being exchanged. He was probably pissed off about being held up. Knowing him, he probably just wanted to get the show on the road.

As the meeting broke and the participants headed back to their helicopters, LAV's and Humvee's, I could tell from their demeanor that something was seriously wrong with the fight so far. I wouldn't find out how wrong until morning. God was giving me one last night of sleep before turning my world upside down.

2005-01-16T15:08:00.000-08:00

What Was Going On - Despite having suffered horrific casualties, Charlie Company, 1/2 fought for and held the Saddam Canal Bridge, the northern most bridge in eastern Nasiriyah. Commanded wonderfully by Capt. Dan Wittnam (seen above), Charlie Company endured ferocious artillery, RPG and mortar fire and even though lost an entire mortar team and a large portion of Third Platoon, hung on tenaciously to their ground and ultimately held the door open for the entire 1st Marine Division to pour through in route to Baghdad. They were later relieved and augmented by the remainder of 1/2. Charlie Company had taken the best the enemy could muster and survived, capturing one of the most important objectives from the onset of OIF. That's what was going on...

2005-01-16T14:51:00.000-08:00

One of the vehicles from the 507th Maint. Bn. burns on Route 7 as elements of 2nd Battalion, 8th Marines (aka Warpath) penetrates into southern Nasiriyah.

2005-01-09T14:46:00.000-08:00

As mentioned in the passage titled "Coming In and Going Out", you can see BGen. Natonski's Huey landing next to our position. Just after this picture was taken, the doc's hustled a wounded soldier to this bird and conducted the medevac on it.

Coming In and Going Out

2005-01-09T14:38:00.000-08:00

Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.

It got louder as the Cobra’s approach our position. They came in pairs like deadly dragonflies. Screaming over our position and over the city, heading north.

Communication was almost nonexistent with Timberwolf. Not even 2/8 (aka Warpath) or 3/2 (aka Betio or the Betio Bastards from its WWII notoriety) could relay for us.

1/10 (aka Nightmare) had brought up its artillery tubes, got fire capped and had been sending shells downrange almost constantly. The shells made this odd whistling sound when the batteries fired them at low trajectory. But that wasn’t the only noise in town.

The XO was quickly loosing it. Our tanks were still refueling and hadn’t gotten back into the fight. He began screaming at one of the Sgt’s who worked in the S-4 (Logistics).

“Sgt A. how come those tanks aren’t done yet?” “Sir, the fuel pump broke and they are having to refuel by hand.” “What the fuck did you say?” “Sir, the pump broke…” “Son, get your ass down there and help them, NOW!” “Sir, I’m not a fuel…” “GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE SGT AND GO HELP THEM!” “Sir, I…”

The XO grabbed this kid by the flak vest and started to drag him out of the CP. Just them a UH-1 Huey flew over. As the sound hit his ears, the XO’s attention went from Sgt A. to the helo.

“Where the fuck is the Air Officer!?!?” He screamed. “Here Sir!” A junior AirO came sprinting in from his vehicle hauling a UHF radio with him. “Who the fuck is in that helo and why is he in my airspace?” “Sir, I’m working on that now.” “You better be mister because I’m tired of seeing aircraft that I don’t own plowing through my airspace without asking permission!”

Capt S. had gone over to the Assistant Operations Officer, Major Tanner to explain the urban centric defense and what 1/2 would be seeing. Major Tanner looked as if he had decided that he needed to reign in the XO. “XO”, he called out in his heavy British accent. “What is it Mike?” He called back over his shoulder, still glaring at the AirO. “I think you ought to have a look at what Capt S. has.” “Ah, the Deuce, well it’s about fucking time. You fucking people haven’t done shit for me all afternoon.” I could see that the Capt. was smarting from that comment.

To this day I’m still trying to figure out what the fuck he meant by that. We told them everything we knew. We briefed the enemy order of battle, as we knew it. We briefed the possibility of the enemy going guerilla to make our targeting more difficult. We did load-bearing studies for the bridges. We briefed the urban centric defense. In fact we had ginned up a map with the urban centric grid overlay based on where we thought the enemy would put his defensive belts. But the biggest thing we stressed at every intel brief from late January until we breached was “stay out of Ambush Alley”. We laid out everything for them. All the ops guys had to plan a way through the city and fight the bad guys. We thought they had done that. So what the fuck was going wrong?

Just as the XO started to go to work on Capt S. another Huey screamed over at low level. He turned towards the AirO with blood in his eyes. “I told you I don’t want anymore flyovers unless I…” “Sir, it’s the Commanding General’s helo.” As soon as he heard the CG was overhead, his whole demeanor changed. “Oh, OK, but next time you tell the pilot, he better let me know beforehand that he’s coming through.” “Yes Sir.”

The Capt came back to the vehicle and slid next to me just as the CG’s helo circled no further than fifty feet from our position. “Mooch, take a look. This is something you’d never see at Lejeune.” The Skipper was right. The helo turned about a half a klick south of us, raced back to our position and dropped right next to the CP on the roadway. The Skipper’s point was, in peacetime, due to safety issues, a helo would never set down right next to an antennae farm/CP. There were too many chances for an accident. But this was war and peacetime rules for safety sometimes get thrown out the window.

I had noticed that the medevac vehicles had brought back some wounded. As the CG went to find the XO, I went over to Major Tanner. “Sir, do you know what unit those wounded are from?” “I think they are from that Army unit the tankers saved.” “Thanks Sir.” “No trouble Mooch, thanks for the intel update, you and the Skipper are doing great, keep it up.” And with that quick verbal pat on the back, I felt a lot better about what we were doing. Major Tanner knew how to kick ass, but he also knew how to take care of troops and motivate. The British should be proud of him, because we sure as hell were proud to have served with him in combat.

As I walked back to the 2 to tell the Skipper what Major Tanner had said, a CH-46 Frog thwacked in over our position into an LZ on the left flank, out past where the guys had set up in the defense. No sooner did it touchdown, did I see the Corpsman, Doc Pasanen and a couple of litter teams go running into the back of it. There was another litter team that went to the CG’s helo as well.

Capt H, the assistant comm. officer came by. “Hey Sir, have you heard from Timberwolf at all?” “Nope, just some chatter from the TAC and 2/8 and 3/2.” “I did hear some chatter from the MEB. It seems that 3ID wanted to know if we recovered the Captain who was leading that Army convoy. I thought I heard them say something about him being a Patriot Missile Technician. They may have been worried about him getting captured.” I remembered hearing some radio traffic about one of the Army troops being an officer. “I think one of them is an officer, but I don’t know what rank. Hey Sir, if you hear from Timberwolf again let us know. Also, if you manage to talk to the TAC, could you listen for when they may be coming back in?” “Sure thing.”

As both helos pulled stick and clambered out of the LZ, I could see the vehicles of the TAC coming back in. Major M. and Gunny M. hoped out of the S-2 TAC and came sprinting in. “Capt, SSgt, grab the map board and let’s huddle up.”

The Major pointed at an intersection about four klicks north of us, as I pulled out my notepad. “Right here there are a bunch of burning Army HEMETT’s and eight, maybe nine…Gunny was it eight or nine?” “Nine Sir.” “Nine burning T-55 tanks.” “We starting taking small arms, mortar and RPG fire from here…” as he tapped his finger on a spot near the intersection. I looked at Gunny. His eyes said it all. Things were not going according to plan.

Site Updates

2005-01-08T10:10:00.000-08:00

I just wanted to put a little website update together for the folks that stop by.
I added a counter to see how little the site is being accessed. :-)
I also added some links to pages I access a lot or find interesting.

Magic Kingdom Dispatch is written by a friend of mine named Steve. Steve served in 2nd Battalion, 75th Infantry (Ranger) prior to the formation of the 75th Ranger Regiment. He participated in Operation Urgent Fury, of which I am struggling to write the comprehensive history of. He's got a great style and flare for writing and the Blog is top notch.

The other links are mostly military related blogs and sites if that is your interest. The last link is for fans of the prog-rock band Rush, who I consider to the greatest band of all time. If you like them, you'll love the site, which has a great forum and some other interesting details the hard-core Rush fan must see.

I'll be adding more links at a later date.

Thanks to all who stop by and send comments. I appreciate it more than you know.
Semper Fidelis (Always Faithful),
Mooch

2005-01-06T10:25:00.000-08:00

Charlie Company, 1st Battalion, 2nd Marines moving through the CAAT positions heading into An Nasiriyah. Those columns of smoke are coming from vehicles of the 507th Maint. Bn. after they were ambushed. Some of the pillars of smoke are coming from nine T55 tanks that we smoked on the opposite side of the railroad bridge that's just out of the frame to the left.

2005-01-03T17:38:00.000-08:00

This is elements of Alpha Company, 1st Battalion, 2nd Marines after destroying some Fedayeen mortar and machine gun positions. Shortly after this pic was taken we would pull off the western side of Route 7/8 and attempt to control the battle for the two bridges with incomplete information and our tanks in the rear trying to refuel.

2005-01-03T17:35:00.000-08:00

As we raced to catch up with the front of our column we passed elements of Alpha Company, 8th Tanks. This is one of their M88 Tank Recovery Vehicles towing a deadlined M1A1. Shortly after this was taken, most of 1/2 would be involved in some of the most savage combat the Marine Corps had seen since Vietnam.

Can You Hear Me Now?

2004-12-31T06:30:00.000-08:00

I wish I could say that that day was so profound for me. I'd be lying if I said so. At least that's the way it felt early on the 23 March 2003.

They day began so innocuously that most of the time I can't remember much of what went on. I remember certain things that happened, certain sights and sounds, but for the most part the day blurred for me.

"Viking Main, this Timberwolf. Go Timberwolf. Roger, be advised we're in heavy contact. We're receiving incoming from multiple MG and mortar positions. Stand by for SHELLREP."

And so it began. 1/2 had run into elements of the Fedayeen south of the Euphrates Bridge. As the shell report came in, our artillery unit, 1st Battalion, 10th Marines, punched it into their targeting computer and plotted counter-battery fire. While they sent their 155mm shells downrange, 1/2 answered with heavy firepower of their own, mortars and machine gun fire. The enemy positions were quickly destroyed with bodies flying through the air in a shower of shrapnel and mud.

While I could pick up that much from the radio transmissions, what I didn't know at the time was that our tanks (Team Tank) that were leading our column had raced forward because they had found the remnants of the 507th Maintenance Battalion. So in the haste to capture the bridges over the Euphrates and Saddam Canal, the command had sent 1/2 forward without our heaviest firepower.

All of this was unknown to me. We had setup on the western side of Route 7 in the mud. I remember the fetid smell of the ground as I stepped out of the vehicle. There wasn't much in the grass and bushes. Just some small, rough shrubs and desultory blades of grass here and there. The sun still wasn't up in full force, but I could tell that it was going to be hot. The early morning chill had disappeared quickly and a mist that hovered at ankle level started to fade with the first rays of the sun.

I had Fletch back the vehicle in slowly. I didn't want him to jackknife the trailer and dump all of our supplies all over the place. I guided him carefully with hand and arm signals and even with that guidance he still almost turned the trailer over in the loose ground.

As the other vehicles of the Command Post (CP) pulled into formation, I took stock of the area. Thirty feet off to our left flank ran a two-foot deep ditch. As a defensive position, this location sucked. We were sitting off the side of an elevated roadway with little to no cover on both flanks.

"Skipper, how long do you think will be staying here?" "Don't know, I'll check with the ops guys."
"Fuck it", I thought. "Fletch, break out the boards and get a comm. check with the TAC." "Cpl. C. have you got anything on the MDACT?" "No SSgt, she's still showing our position in Kuwait." "Alright, disregard that thing, go find the rest of our guys and have them form up on the S-2 vehicle ASAP. Have Sgt. S. report me directly. Go, get going, now. I want to be operational in 5 minutes."

Cpl. C. trotted off, weapon, flak vest and gear flapping against his MOPP suit. As he moved down the line, I peered into the vehicle. Fletch was struggling with the radio net.
"Viking 2 TAC, this is Viking 2 over." Nothing but white noise in return. "Nothing SSgt, nada, I can't anyone but internal convoy with Yankee 6." "Alright, monitor the net and give me comm. checks with the TAC every 5 minutes until you get someone."

I could hear machine gun fire and mortars impacting up the road. The firing was distant at first but it got louder every few minutes. Whoever was shooting at us was adjusting his fire towards the convoy.

The guys slowly trickled in and soon everyone was gathered around, except Sgt. S. "Hey Cpl. C., did you find S.?" "Yes, SSgt. I told him to meet here ASAP. I don't know where he is." "Well go back out there and get him up here, NOW!" I was rapidly loosing my patience with Sgt. S. It's one thing to be a no-show during training. It's a totally different story when people are shooting at you.

Five minutes later, he ambled in. "It's about motherfuckin' time S. Thanks for gracing us with your presence. Set up a watch schedule. Those not on watch are gonna be pulling flank security outside the CP. Gents, we're going to operate right out of the 2 vehicle. I want everyone staying close, but not too close in case the XO gets a case of the ass. I want two-man positions and good spacing on the flank. You've got great fields of fire so acquiring targets should be no problem. "Any questions?" Fletch stuck his hand in the air, "SSgt, can I break out the AT-4?" He had wanted to use that friggin' anti-tank rocket ever since we had them issued to us. "Yeah, go ahead, but don't even think about firing it unless I give the OK, that or there's a T55 bearing down on you."

With a huge grin on his face, he looked like a kid under the Christmas tree, tearing the plastic bag off of the rocket. The AT-4's, once broken out of their shipping containers, came wrapped in a huge plastic bag to protect them from the elements. "Alright then, Allen and Moore on the radio and maps, everyone else on flank security. S. I want to talk to you before you head out. Everyone else, turn to."

With that, the guys went about getting everything set up. Moore took radio watch and Allen went about getting the logbooks out and setting the map up. "SSgt, do you want me to leave the last known locations of the enemy units up on the map or should I pull them and start fresh", Allen asked. "Leave them up for now, so we have a point of reference, as updates come in, start pulling them off." "Hey SSgt," Moore called from the cab of the vehicle, "I just got comms with 2/8, nothing with 1/2. 2/8 said they have comms with Timberwolf and will relay for us." "Good job, Moore, send this to 1/2 via 2/8, we need a SITREP and any BDA plus locations of enemy forces they are engaging." "Got it SSgt, sending now." "HUMMEL!" "Yes, SSgt!" "Stand by to get the updated enemy positions from Moore once 2/8 retrans to us." "Roger SSgt."

I have to laugh every time I think of Hummel. Hummel was Allen's nickname because he looked exactly like a Hummel figurine, with that clueless expression on his face, almost lifeless. Good kid though, a little slow on the draw but always gave me a 100%.

"SSgt, you still want to speak with me?" "Yeah S. what the fuck?! Didn't C. tell you to form up on the Deuce?" I looked right through him because he was losing me. "He did, but SSgt Keagy told me to help man the perimeter where we were." "Who do you work for, Keagy or me?" "You SSgt, but, " "No but, next time get your ass over here. I'll deal with Keagy. Listen man, I need your experience out there. Settle those guys down. You're the oldest one and have the most experience. Act like it. Now get out there." I wasn't in the mood to coach him but I didn't have time for the bullshit of having a screamfest on the side of a road in Iraq during a shootout.

About 5 minutes later 2/8 started passing us the enemy positions they had received from 1/2. It was horribly fragmented. Small pockets of enemy troops were attempting to slug it out with our grunts and from the reports, these small unit actions were occurring all along the entry route to "Ambush Alley", just south of the Euphrates. One thing was very clear though, the enemy was using a defense we had war-gamed out back at Camp Lejeune, the urban centric defense.

An urban centric defense plan is based upon belts of enemy positions in concentric rings with the center being the enemy command element. This type of defense makes maximum use the urban setting, using buildings and terrain as natural strong points. It also allows for flexibility that enables the utilizing commander to maneuver his forces to reinforce specific areas. It also allows him to form kill boxes and mass his firepower to utilize those kill boxes. This is a very effective defense and does not require large groups of well-trained troops to execute. Perfect for the enemy we were facing.

"Skipper, get a look at this." He stared at the map, the light bulb clicking on right away. "I know where you're going with it. I'll brief the XO and S-3. Get on the horn," I cut him off, "you're reading my mind Sir." "Also, don't forget to call the fucking MEB and let them know what we're seeing." "Roger, Sir." We needed to let our higher headquarters know what was coming in so we'd have send out some INTREPs or intel reports to give them a snapshot look at things as they developed. Problem is, they had turned off the internal intel net. No one home on the other side. Not good.

"Moore! Get 2/8 to tell Timberwolf's S-2 that they'll be hitting the next defensive belt as they hit the Euphrates. Tell them to expect multiple positions along the northern bank. SEND IT NOW!"

No sooner did the words exit my mouth than I saw over my shoulder Capt. D., the S-2 for 2/8 walked into the CP. "You know those fuckers are going urban centric on us don't you!?!" He yelled. "Got it Sir, we're already passing it through you guys up to 1/2. Moore, how we doin'?" He looked back at me with that look your dog gives you when he doesn't understand what the hell your yelling at him about, you know, head cocked to the side, big eyes, etc.
"Nothing SSgt, 2/8 can't confirm that the message got through." "Oh, bullshit, tell them to get a read back from 1/2." "I did they said they got nothing back but static."

I needed to get that info up to them before they got to that next belt. Goddamn, all I needed was a fucking radio that could broadcast two fucking miles, that's it. A radio, my kingdom for a radio. I looked over at the S-3 vehicle. Good God the XO looks like he is literally frothing at the mouth. No goddamn way am I going over there. The comm. bubbas gotta have a radio that works. Yeah, that's it. They've got an MRC-145, it's got plenty of range. No sweat GI.
"Capt. H., do you have comms with Timberwolf?" "Yep, sure do," the assistant comm. officer, answered back. "Can I borrow your vehicle?" "Go ahead." "Thanks Sir, I owe you one."

BBOOOMM, BBOOOMM, BBOOOMM.

Three rounds impact just down the road from us. I think they are 82's but can't be sure. I've never been mortared before so I have nothing to base my guess on.
I clamber on the hood of the S-6 vehicle, snaking the handset out the door and up with me.

BBOOOMM, BBOOOMM, BBOOOMM.

Three more rounds in rapid succession. I'm horribly exposed standing on the hood, but I don't think the mortar rounds are anywhere near close enough to hit me. I hope.

"Timberwolf, Timberwolf, this is Viking 2." "GO VIKING 2." They are yelling and I can still hear gunfire in the background. "Stand by to copy and pass to the S-2..." I send the message and the Marine on the other end reads it back verbatim and promises to pass it to the S-2, Capt R. Just when I asked to speak with the S-2 directly, I lose them.

FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!

Can this day get any shittier?

I dropped the handset on the seat of the 6 vehicle and trudged through the slop back to the 2 vehicle. "Did you get through?" The Skipper asked as I hit my seat and grab my water bottle. "I got through and got a read back but it wasn't Capt. R. and as soon as I asked to speak to him the line went dead."

"FUCK."

2004-12-19T09:53:00.000-08:00

That's an Army ATACM heading downrange. Fingers of Light, Fingers of Death, you decide.

What the Hell is Going on?

2004-12-19T07:03:00.000-08:00

It's a question I'd hear more than once over the next week. It's seems we never could really get a good grasp on the situation. Unfortunately, that what happens in war. Most of the time you have to make decisions with an incomplete picture. Time and experience improve your ability to do it. Some people pick it up quickly an become warriors, others don't and find they need a new profession. On the morning of March 23, 2003, I think we were all a little slow on the uptake.

I was pulling the graveyard shift. There's nothing like sitting down next to the radios and mapboard and having Jambalaya with hot sauce at 2300hrs. Sits in the stomach well, especially right before going into the attack.

The TAC had orders to pull out and head out to the western crossing again. The Command Post was a beehive of activity as we pulled the latest and greatest intel we had for Nasiriyah. The CIA had been telling us for weeks that the Iraqi 11th Infantry Division would give up en masse. I didn't believe it. Despite those reports, we continued to brief that the terrain favored the enemy and that the Fedayeen militia could fight a protracted guerilla war in the city if they so desired.

Ambush Alley.
It all hinged on Ambush Alley.
The Alley was named early in the planning. There is dispute to who actually named it that. My compatriots in the RCT-2 S-2 shop would say it was Capt. S. The Brigade planning cell would say it was me. A year later I received an end of tour award which blatantly gave me credit for naming it during the IPB (intelligence preparation of the battlefield) process. I recall calling it "the Mogadishu Mile" more than Ambush Alley. Regardless, it doesn't matter really because frankly I don't give a shit who takes credit for naming that godforsaken stretch of earth. As far as I'm concerned the whole strip should have been bombed out of existence.

I caught a quick catnap prior to us taking off. We would be leaving at 0430hrs to seize the bridges and I wanted to be fresh (at least as fresh as possible). I remember the stars in the sky, the constant rumbling of Army convoys to our flank and the movement of vehicles around our position. It didn't take long to pack up and get ready. I got the word from the Ops guys to stage our vehicle at 0400.

I decided to walk up to our forward position and look at the ground around the roadway. I could see our tanks staged along the roadway. I could also see that there were some vehicles heading towards us. With a tan painted hummer in the lead, they flew right past us. It was definitely a logistics outfit because they had some wreckers, fladbeds, etc. Probably a maintenance unit. I didn't really think to much of it until I noticed they had turned north and were heading up towards Nasiriyah.

I called out to the tankers, "who the fuck was that?" "No idea, must be some Army unit."

It made sense at the time because I didn't have a complete picture of what was happening. I thought 3ID was still up in the outskirts of Nasiriyah. Little did I know that despite them briefing us that they would take out the southern targets in Nasiriyah, they did nothing of the sort. They flew past Nasiriyah, like it was nothing more than a speed bump. Little did I know that I had just seen the 507th Maintenance Bn. intact for the last time. Some would be dead, some would be captured and some would have to wait 20+ days to be rescued. I'm sorry guys. If I had known then what I know now, I would have stood in the middle of the road and stopped you.

I had Fletch position us in the staging area. He put on his headphones and promptly fell asleep at the wheel. Cpl C. fell asleep as well. The Captain was checking the maps and getting comm checks with Capt. K.
So I decided to head back and find out where everyone was because we were the only vehicle in the staging area and I wanted to make sure we were in the right place. I got my answer when the Fire Direction Center (FDC) vehicle nosed in behind us.

"Hey, SSgt Barron, where the fuck is everyone?" "They're coming, but you're going to have to pull forward so we can make room for everyone." Alrighty then. "FLETCH!" No answer. "FLETCH!" "Goddamnit, wake up boy!"

I grabbed a dirt clump and launched it towards his door. Not aerodynamic in the least bit, it fell a yard short. Now I was pissed and began stomping over to the vehicle. I must have looked and sounded like a crazed lunatic, grumbling to myself.
I grabbed at the handle, but the stupid thing wouldn't open. I yanked and yanked until it finally broke free. Unfortunately, broke was the key word. The plastic handle had busted into three pieces. Fletch was up now. And shocked to boot.
"Hey dumbass, how about moving the fucking vehicle up about a couple hundred feet so we can get the rest of the column in?!?" "Sure thing SSgt." He was groggy so it took a couple of seconds to register but as he tried to close the door he figured out what had happened.
"Try and secure that piece of shit with something."
He tried everything, caribiner, tape, 550 cord, you name it. He settled on the 550 cord because at least he could cut free if we got ambushed. It was a shitty deal for him.

0430hrs, 23 March 2003
The column finally got the word to move out. It was still dark out and Fletch was the only one with NVG's. He hated to wear them on his helmet so he held them up to his head with one hand and drove with the other. The Skipper and I were constantly yelling at him for doing it.

The ride was a mess. We kept crisscrossing over intersections and bouncing off the curbs that jostled the whole vehicle around. I felt like my fillings were being rattled out of my skull on a couple of them. You have to understand, Iraqi highways are not set up like American highways. In fact the on ramps are layed out exactly opposite from American one's. It certainly makes for interesting driving in the black of night.

As fate would have it, we ended up crossing over a ditch that jolted the vehicle so bad that it ripped Fletch's door away, totally shredding the 550 cord that held it together. If that wasn't bad enough, Fletch's helmet (which he never had the chin strap on) went flying out the now open door. BUMP. That bump was us rolling over his now inadvertently discarded helmet. Fletch nailed the brakes. "Fix the goddamn door NOW!"
And I was out of the door like a shot, running back to the FDC vehicle which fortunately for us, had about 5 vehicle lengths between us. That and sharp-eyed Sgt Booker, driving the FDC, had seen something fall out of our hummer. He came running up to me with Fletch's helmet. The camo cover had been torn open and the NVG mount had disintegrated but the structure of the helmet was in good shape, hell the chin strap was still attached. "Here you go dumbass." "Thanks SSgt." The Skipper chimed in, "Fletch I should make you pay for that goddamn NVG mount you idiot."

0630hrs, 23 March 2003
It took us long enough, but we finally caught up with the front of the column. The sun was just coming up over Route 7. Although there was more vegetation, there still wasn't a whole lot to look at. Just a few small mud huts.

The radio began to crackle.
"All Yankee units, this is Yankee 6, be advised, Timberwolf has reported that they are taking 82 mike-mike and MG fire."
Our lead units were reporting taking some machine gun and mortar fire. They also reported that they had recovered some Army troops that had been hit while trying to take the surrender of some Iraqi troops. Rumor had it that they were duped by a fake surrender and ambushed.
We got the word to pull off to the western side of Route 7 about 4 kilcks south of Nasiriyah and set up the command post. Vehicles began to herringbone. A herringbone is term for when vehicles alternate pulling of the road on opposite sides, ie. vehicle one pulls off to the left, second to the right, so on and so forth.

Some mortars began to fall nearby as I directed the vehicle into position. Well that's it. We're knee deep now.
I can't reach anyone on the radio, I don't know where our lead guys are and I definitely don't know what kind of opposition they're facing. What the hell is going on?

Lookin' for War in All the Wrong Places

2004-12-18T10:39:00.000-08:00

Sorry I haven't posted in a while. Life tends to interfere with creativity.

Back to our regularly scheduled blogging.

Overnight we had been given the mission to get up to and secure Jalibah. Jalibah had been the site of an old Iraqi airfield. We had wargamed its capture extensively prior to going across the border. It was designated Objective Charlie (God only knows why, cause I sure didn't!).

As I rose from my beddown position I could tell that things were starting to pick up. Marines were moving briskly around the perimeter. Guys were filling in their trenches, packing gear and catching chow. I had told myself that I would not abandon my normal routines as long as it was permitted so I grabbed my shaving gear and a cup of cold water. It felt good to shave and brush my teeth. Its the little things that are routine that help to keep you firmly in the camp of normalcy. Feeling like a new man, I ate chow and buried my trash in my trench as we finished our preparation to move.

I throw my pack back into the vehicle and grabbed my CD player. I wanted to relax to some music before getting on the road. I was listening to a bootleg copy of a Rush concert from the Vapor Trails tour when I was told by Fletch that Major M. wanted to meet with the key leaders.

We all gathered at the TAC vehicle and got the latest poop. We were going to seize Jalibah and standby for a possible mission to take the crossing points over the Euphrates and Saddam Canal in eastern Nasiriyah.
Shortly after the TAC took off to catch up with the lead elements of 1st Battalion, 2nd Marines (1/2).

When it was our turn Fletch eased the vehicle into column and we started the movement north.

I had purchased a GPS before we left so I was making a decent attempt at logging our location every hour on the hour. Good thing we had the sense to break out some maps prior to leaving since the MDACT mapping system wasn't working worth a damn. All this technology and we still rely on maps to figure out where we are.
I would call out the grids and the Skipper would bounce them off a mylar survival map we able to acquire. The survival maps were the Rolls Royce's of maps. Made of almost indestructible material, they also had all kinds of survival tips for the area covered, plus they were printed on a camo background so they wouldn't give your position away (most maps are printed on white paper, not good for camo unless you're in the arctic!).

We made good time up to Jalibah but there was one small problem. I MEF had beat us there. There were all kinds of helos going in and out. CH-46's, Cobra's, Army Blackhawks and worst of all CH-53, which would cause a duststorm and brown everything out. Word was passed to Capt. K. to get the convoy up past Jalibah to a position straddling the interchange at Routes 7 and 8.

Thankfully, we left the desert floor, up onto pavement just north of the airfield. The moment we did, the dust/sand settled and you could see a sea of Army logistic vehicles off to our left flank. It was a huge traffic jam. Thank God we were paralleling their axis of advance because if we had fallen in line behind them we would have never made it to our objective.

The column pulled into position just south of the intersection of 7 and 8. The vehicles peeled out and took up positions along the perimeter. The command post set up and the Marines dug fighting positions. We didn't know how long we'd be staying and we surely didn't know if we'd even get the mission to take the bridges.
The TAC had set out to do a passage of lines with 3ID at the western crossing site in Nasiriyah.

I had the boys break out the maps, attempt comm checks, get themselves dug in and wait for our resupply. The day passed slowly despite Charlie Company, 2nd Light Armored Recon (LAR) Bn. calling back that they had captured 46 Iraqi troops, small arms and 20+ mortar and RPG rounds. They also sighted two Iraq tanks. The tanks were outside of our AO (area of operations) so we called them in and MEF sent two Cobra's up from Jalibah to find them. We never heard back if they did or didn't.
The TAC then called in that they had some artillery falling nearby, by we later learned that these were impacts from a fire mission called in by 1/2.

Later on the TAC rejoined the Main and we traded stories, notes and bullshit. Rumor had it that we would be ordered to take the bridges tomorrow. Colonel Bailey was busy working with Major Kennedy (our Regimental S-3) when the call came in from the MEB. Seize the bridges, I MEF needs them to get up north to Baghdad.

Looks like we wouldn't end up being a sideshow for the whole war. My chances of getting fucked up had just increased exponentially.

What a Long Strange Trip It's Been

2004-11-11T14:00:00.000-08:00

And they're off...

We're finally on the go. Good thing too because everyone was getting antsy. We didn't want to be sitting around the assembly area too long just in case Saddam's boys started improving their accuracy with the Scuds.
Time on deck: 1300hrs.

As the column began to uncoil itself from Hawkins, you could see huge plums of sand rising up off the desert floor. The command element had asked us before we left Kuwait what the effect of a few hundred vehicles driving over our lane was going to do for visibility. We answered truthfully. We knew it would cut down visibility considerably and we said so.

It wasn't so bad for the guys in the first 10 or so vehicles, but once that top layer of sand got broken up, every vehicle behind us was going to feel as though he was caught in it's own personal shamal. Once that occurred, we knew the column would have to slow it's pace and increase the spacing between vehicles. The drivers would have a lot less time to react in case of incoming fire or an accident in front of them.

And so we drove on heading for the Kuwait/Iraq border. I looked over at Cpl. C. The son of bitch was out cold. "C. wake up goddamnit, this ain't no time to be catching zzzz's! SSgt, there ain't nothing going on anyway. Don't care knucklehead, I need you and your rifle covering that flank, no if, and's or but's. If I catch you sleeping on a movement to contact again, you'll run along side the vehicle the whole way. OK, SSgt" The OK was delivered with hate and malice. I don't think he liked me and frankly I didn't care. He was a Corporal acting like a Lance Corporal. Grow up, this is war, not CAX out in California.

I could see the berm that marked the border looming up in front of us. Alpha Company, 2nd Combat Engineering Battalion had gone forward to cut breaches in the berm for us to pass. Elements of Charlie Company, 2nd Light Armored Recon Battalion had gone with them to provide security. We passed through lane number one on the far right. 2nd CEB had cut to breaches and then came back through and cut two back-breaches which gave us four lanes to move the Regiment through. Even with four lanes, it was a bit unnerving because the whole column had to slow during the passage. It was at that point that we were most vulnerable.
Time on deck: 1515hrs local.

The passage thankfully, went without incident and we were now in no-man's land. When we wargamed the battles we figured that Saddam would concede the southern desert in an attempt to drag us into a fistfight in the cities. It looked like we were right.

We passed Bedouins with their hooches made of thick fabric walls and roofs. They were held up by strong tent poles. The whole contraption was meant to be taken down at the drop of a hat but also strong enough to withstand the sandstorms that whipped across the desert. They usually had a gaggle of small children out helping them herd goats, sheep or camels. It looked like a miserable existence, but all of them seemed to be genuinely happy.

We also passed the remnants of Saddam's army destroyed in the previous fracas. Trucks sat, barely recognizable, collecting sand around them. A rusted T-72 tank sat forlornly in a collapsed revetment, with small, jagged holes stitched from the front to back. Even the barrel had been hit. The damage had most likely been inflicted by an A-10 tank killer. The holes made undoubtedly by it's barrel-mounted 30mm chain gun and it's depleted uranium slugs. If our luck held, we be seeing many more like it, only fresher kills.

Our objective for today was Phase Line Queensland. Queensland was nothing more than a spot on a map, because there was nothing there. We were smack-dab in the middle of nowhere and it was getting dark.
Time on deck: 1830hrs.

We put out ground guides with chem lights so we wouldn't have everyone driving over each other. Instead of a circular perimeter, we pulled into a loose coil formation, which is shaped just like it sounds. To the north I could see the NBC 7-ton with Sgt S. and the other Marines piling out of it. They immediately put out security and started making head calls. After that they began to dig in, along with everyone else. To our east I could see Alpha Company, 2nd Recon Battalion pulling security. If I had to have anyone watching my back right now, it would be them. They had fastback Hummers and Mercedes IFAV's (Interim Fast Attack Vehicles) that could speed towards any hotspot in a short period of time. Mounting M2 .50 calibers and MK19 automatic grenade launchers, they possessed a tremendous amount of firepower. Their presence was comforting as we went about the business of setting up comms and checking the map boards.

The TAC CP also rejoined the Main at Queensland. It was good to see Major M. and Gunny Bill. We caught up on what was happening and set the watches. I took graveyard shift so the guys could get some sleep. Right now, 3ID and 1stMARDIV were running the show and we were just a sideshow to it. We had no air cover and no airborne recon, so we were essentially on our own.

The Lt. came and woke me up when it was my turn for watch. He passed me the NVG's and the word that all was quiet. I got myself together and took a quick look up in the sky with the NVG's. It looked like the Long Island Expressway at rush hour. Hundreds of planes heading north and south in neat columns.

I hotfotted it over to the CP to take up radio watch. Our radios still weren't up so I sat next to the S-3 folks and listened in on their squakbox. The night was moving along slowly until we got a call from 1st Battalion, 2nd Marines. While repositioning itself, one of our attached M1A1 Abrams tanks had accidentally run over the legs of a rifleman from 1/2. An immediate medevac was needed in order to save the young Marine. Although I didn't know it at the time, Cpl. Travis Eichelberger was fighting for his life. Thankfully, his skirmishers trench had kept him from being killed instantly. Cpl. Eichelberger would later say he had no recollection of the accident that crushed his pelvis and sent him back to the States.

Unfortunately, he would not be the last RCT-2 Marine to be medevaced back to the States from Iraq.

Held Up

2004-10-30T07:43:00.000-07:00

Well I've been away for a while so I figured I should try and post something new.

Morning of the 21st of March 2003.

To me it was suprising how happy I was that morning. I guess after working on the war plan for months at Camp Lejeune and then sitting in the Kuwaiti desert for 2 1/2 months, I was happy to be finally getting the show on the road.

"Fletch, start breaking down everything but the travel map board." "Cpl. C, you and Sgt. S. go around to the guys and light a fire under them. Tell'em to start getting everything packed, grab some chow and do some weapons maintenance...and I mean inspect the weapons. If I do the inspection and find shit in the weapons, you two will clean them all." It may seem like I was being hard on them, but both of them needed extra...motivation most of the time. Cpl C. was trying hard, but he had just been promoted and wasn't really sure of himself as a leader. Sgt. S. just didn't want to be where he was, so he really didn't put much effort into anything. It was mildly frustrating at times because for the most part I couldn't rely on them to complete the most menial of supervisory tasks unless I watched them do it.

I went over to coordinate with Headquarters Company and Capt. K. "Good morning Sir, we hitting the road soon?" "Sure thing SSgt, probably sometime after 1300 local. You got a little time to get everything squared away. I'm going to be giving the drivers brief at about 1100, do you think you could put together a small brief with the latest intel for that?" No problem Sir, we haven't had much in the way of comms but we'll pass what we know."

I decided to head over to the S-3/XO's vehicle. it was still early and I wondered why we wouldn't be stepping off until 1300. No sooner did I poke my head around the comm vehicle, did I get an answer to my question. The XO was in form this morning. "Mike (our S-3 Alpha or the second in command of our operations section), can you believe this shit!?!?!?! We can't step off because the fucking 3rd ID hasn't cleared our attack lane yet!"
As I recalled from the OpOrder brief back in Kuwait, it really wasn't our lane until 3ID cleared it, but that small detail was lost on the man. He was a stark raving lunatic most of the time, but under the pressure of combat operations, I could see him stroking out from the stress. The worst part of his personality was that around the Regimental Commander, Col. Bailey, the XO was the picture of calmness and sanity, with a thin veneer of good guy to boot. But when the CO would leave with the TAC, the XO would slide into his alterego. Every part of the Regimental Headquarters operated like a well-oiled machine with one exception...the XO. If we had success, it would be despite him not because of him. Needless to say, he was universally disliked. We even took bets on whether his momma even liked him.

Well no use sticking around to be berated. I hotfooted it back to the S-2 Hummer to square away my gear.

It didn't take long for the great heat tab in the sky to burn off the morning chill. By 0800, the sun was up and we were set on broil. The MOPP suits made everything more difficult. From relieving yourself to walking from point A to point B, everything became a chore.

By 1000, you couldn't move without sweating yourself soaking wet. Water was being consumed at a ridiculous rate and it was a necessary evil. Think about the process; you drink water to hydrate, water intake = trip to relieve yourself, trip to hygiene area = sweating out water, relieving yourself = need to rehydrate. By the time you make it back from the head (the bathroom in Navy/Marine Corps parlance), you have to start the damn cycle all over again. A bit tedious to say the least.

Well, it was time to head over to drivers brief. I gathered up what little info we had gathered right up until the PC got trashed. I also grabbed our intel estimate as well. I wanted to rehash the terrain and threats for the border crossing.

Capt. K. started the brief. We talked about convoy tactics to include immediate action drills in case of ambush, communications procedures, radio call signs and the route we'd be taking. After that was covered, he asked me to go over what intel we had. We talked about 1stMARDIV grabbing the oil wells and taking a large amount of surrenders. We also talked about 15thMEU taking the port of Umm Qasr. As I went through the brief, I let my eyes wander from man to man. There was an excitement in each man's eyes despite the wilting heat of the mid-morning sun. We then talked about the terrain and potential obstacles during the breach, plus our expectations for resistance at that time. We had assessed that Saddam would concede the southern desert to buy time and expected resistance to be minimal to light, with possibly limited indirect (artillery/rocket/mortar) fire as we passed through the breach. Despite the phrase "minimal to light", I could see that the mention of enemy fire heightened everyone's mental awareness. Nothing like the mention of enemy fire to grab your attention. I finished my portion of the brief and we fell back onto our vehicles to wait for the word to move out. We hopped in the Hummer and Fletch eased us into our spot in the convoy.

Morning People

2004-09-29T06:51:00.000-07:00

I've always been able to sleep through just about anything. My mother always said that you could set off a bomb next to me and it wouldn't wake me up. As an interesting contrast, I have always been able to wake up 30 minutes prior to any alarm or wake-up call.

Such was the case on the morning of the 21st of March 2003.

From inside the bivy sack, I could hear the other Marines getting up, stowing gear and having breakfast. I could hear the radio hissing in the background. "Viking 2, this is Viking TAC 2, negative SITREP" The TAC was calling in to let us know nothing was happening. Good to hear.

I laid in the bag and just listened. I figured it was going to be a very busy day and I wanted to have a few moments to myself before starting the day. My thoughts flashed to my wife and daughter. I've always tried to balance my Marine Corps career and my family life. I figured that war would be a possibility. I never really feared for myself so much as I feared for them. I only hoped God would take care of them if something happened to me.

It took less time to push those thoughts to the back of my mind than it did to type them out. In order to concentrate on my job I couldn't have anything else occupying my mind. I know it sounds cold but its how people in situations like this stay focused. It doesn't have anything to do with how much I love my family. In fact its the love for them that is main reason why it was done. In order to make it home to them in one piece, I had to forget that I had a family.

As I unzipped the bag I could feel the cool morning desert air. It felt good at least for a couple of seconds. Damn it gets cold out here! I pulled on my fleece and put my boots on. I checked the chamber on my rifle and pistol. I cycled the rounds out and racked fresh one's in. I quickly eyeballed the area around me. The Lieutenant was on radio watch. The Captain and Cpl C. were still asleep. Fletch was getting some coffee ready.

The boy had been up for all of five minutes and he's already got a cigarette in his mouth and coffee going. It was his morning routine. I had spent the previous month watching him go through the same ritual every morning. Well, we all have our comfort zones and rituals. Those were Fletch's.

I made my way over to the vehicle. "Mornin' Sir, how's everything going?" "Good SSgt, 1stMARDIV captured the Az Zubayr oilfields, only six wells have been torched, all others intact". Good deal, now that's how you start off the morning.

RCT-2's original mission was to secure the oilfields, the al-Faw peninsula, Umm Qasr and Basra. Since the Brits would only play if they could stay in the south, all those objectives were given to them, 15th MEU and 1stMARDIV. Our mission now was to attack north, seizing Jalibah Airfield, which would be used as a FOB (Forward Operating Base). After that we had a "Be Prepared To" mission of securing crossings over the Euphrates River. The crossings would be needed to get 1stMARDIV on the road to Baghdad.

"Hey LT, I better go wake the Skipper up, the XO will probably want to get on the road shortly." Seeing as it was getting pretty light, we should have been on the road a couple of hours ago, but the powers at be were running the show, not me.

"Hey Captain" I said as I shook him. I knew he'd be grumpy, he always was. The Skipper rubbed a lot of people the wrong way and didn't really care if he did. He'd made a few enemies on the Brigade staff in doing so. Truth be told, I liked him. We got along well. Although I was considered the enemy at first because I came from the Brigade staff, I had come in and done my job and at least I thought, had done it well. Competence was the key to the Captain. He didn't want someone coming in right before the big show and screwing things up. Can't say I blamed him in that regard.

"What the fuck now SSgt?!?!" "Nothing Sir, it's just that its getting kinda late, I figured you'd want to be getting up, seeing as we may be shoving off soon." I said the whole thing with a shit-eating grin on my face. He looked at me with a scowl which was soon replaced by a look of realization that we'd be heading into Iraq shortly. "Any word from the TAC?" "Negative SITREP, but it looks like the commo boys are getting ready to roll wire and Capt K. was talking about the drivers brief." "OK, alright, just give me a few minutes." "Roger that Sir" He hated it when I was cheerful in the morning, probably because he definitely was not a morning person.

I walked away from him with a huge Kool-Aid grin on.

Today was going to be one hell of a show.

Watch Your Step

2004-09-18T10:38:00.000-07:00

Hawkins continued...

I hustled back to the CP (Command Post) as 3ID continued to plaster the Iraqis with rockets. The Marines began breaking out maps, logbooks and digging skirmisher trenches.

These small trenches were approximately six feet long by three feet wide and one foot deep. The theory was that you could lie down in the trench under fire and repel assaults or weather arty or rocket fire. In reality the stupid things were just big enough to bury your ass in if you got hit. These aren't like those big-assed bunkers you see in the movies. These were meant to be dug quick and filled in quick. We didn't expect to be in one place too long.

While digging my trench I noticed that the communications Marines were using a small path in between my vehicle and the comm. vehicle. Small problem with that. Every time they'd walk through, somebody would catch their boot on the computer cable. It wouldn,t be so bad but that one PC was the only thing we could talk to anyone with. I couldn't range the TAC CP (Tactical Command Post) or any of the battalions with our radio. It was vital that the PC stayed operational.

I called out to Harris, "hey Devil Dog, do me a favor, tell all of your guys to stop walking through here, because the next one who does and trashes out my comm. line is going to get fucked up by yours truly." "Sure thing SSgt".

Normally, I'm not a screamer or someone who threatens my guys. I play on their pride when I want something done and they're dragging ass to get it done. So Fletch, and Corporal C. knew I was serious when I said that. No sooner did the words exit my mouth, when one of the comm. guys walked through and wiped the laptop out. Not only did he rip the connector off the cable, he also destroyed the NIC card that was vital to the PC staying operational. I was absolutely insane with rage. "You stupid motherfucker! Do you know what you just did? What the fuck did I just tell Harris? Get outta my face before I fucking kill you!"

After I calmed down I explained to the Skipper what happened. We didn't really have time to get bent out of shape. I sent Cpl. C. to the S-6 (Communications) section to find replacement parts. I had Fletch get back on the radio and try to get comms with the TAC. It was absolutely maddening.

I needed to cool down. I decided to go visit the rest of the guys. We had to spread them out all over the convoy so some of them got placed in the NBC vehicle and some in the Chaplain's vehicle.

At times, I really felt bad for the guys. This was one of them. Normally, the guys would pull a regular shift doing radio watch and then head back to their positions. Now they had to pull their radio watch and then pull a watch on perimeter. Sleep deprivation was going to be a problem so I was definitely going to have to be creative in order to keep them fresh.

After passing the word, I headed back to the CP. Fletch was still unable to get up with the TAC or battalions and Cpl C. was unable to locate the replacement parts we needed to fix the laptop. It was really shaping up to be a banner evening. I decided to post our watch with the operations guys. They had comms up and I figured we could piggy-back off of their messages. With the watches set and a partial solution to the comm. problem, I decided to hit the rack. Word was passed we'd be setting out early. I MEF and 3ID were already into Iraq and we'd be going in at first light.

I pulled out my sleeping gear. I figured the GoreTex bivy sack (a weather-proof cover for the sleeping bag) would give me some limited protection from NBC in case we were slimed while I slept. In the sack I stuffed all the parts of my chem suit (top, bottom, gloves, boot covers and mask) so I'd be able to suit up in the sack if the need arose. I also laid out my rifle, ammo and grenade, just in case we had to repel and attack on the perimeter. I thought it was a little unnecessary due to the fact we were still in Kuwait, but you can never be too careful.

Sleep didn't come easy at first, but my exhaustion caught up with me. As I slept, horrible images of death by chemicals were periodically interrupted by rockets screaming back and forth over my head.

Goddamn, will somebody please shut off that racket! How am I supposed to sleep with a war going on?!?!?

Fingers of Light

2004-09-16T17:03:00.000-07:00

Hawkins continued...

News keeps coming in in drips and drabs. The Brits are hung up in the Al-Faw, 1st Marine Division has captured the oil wells in Az Zubayr, so on and so forth. It's like two steps forward and one step back.

It starts to get dark.

Capt. K. is the Headquarters Company CO (Commanding Officer). He wants to have a coordination meeting. I'm not a big fan of them, primarily because it's just not smart to gather all of a units leaders together in one place. It makes a nice, big, fat fucking target. One artillery round or Scud missile and the Regiment is decapitated. Not cool.

He passes info for us to give to the troops. We're stepping off early and everyone should have their chem suits on for the crossing. He also gives us some command and control tidbits (what radio nets we've got, where the crapper is, the challenge and passwords, etc). All in all just another boring meeting. I dutifully write everything down in my note pad to pass to the guys.

Well now that I've been holding on to #2 for half a day, I finally make the decision to go take a crap. Do you know how hard it is to take a crap when people are trying to kill you? Let's just say it preoccupies your mind, plus the last thing any Marine wants is to get attacked with his/her drawers around their ankles.

"Fletch, give me the NVG's". Fletch hands over the night vision goggles and I grab a roll of TP from a box we "borrowed" from Camp Shoup (our base in Kuwait, close to Kuwait City) and an entrenching tool. We can't leave a mess just sitting around for anyone to step in.

The engineers have pounded a stake in the ground and attached a chemical light stick to it. This marks the spot where an entire company of Marines are supposed to relieve themselves. I scrape out a cathole in preparation for taking care of business. Trow (short for trousers) down, I start humming a Rush song (I think it was "Fly by Night") as I get to gettin'.

WWWWHHHOOOSSHHH.

From our left flank a MRLS rocket lifts off from the Army's 3rd Infantry Division positions. Good Lord, I think I shit myself. Oh yeah, that's what I was supposed to be doing.

The rockets lift off in one's and two's, not like in the news footage from Gulf War I. Back then they fired them in "six packs". Nowadays with improvements in technology, one rocket does what six used to do. All in all, it's still an impressive sight to behold.

As I'm finishing up, the Iraqis decide to respond. A couple of Scuds flash over our position heading south towards Camp Commando, where the I MEF headquarters was located. Stupid, young Marines are running around yelling "GAS, GAS, GAS", which causes everyone to break out their mask and get it on.

After running some tests to be sure, the Regimental NBC (Nuclear, Biological, Chemical) Defense Officer calls the all clear. Thank God. Even as the temperature is rapidly dropping in the desert night, it's still stifling in the mask.

WWWHHHOOOSSSHHH. A couple more rockets head into Iraq. You know they look just like little fingers of light streaking through the air.

Naw, maybe they look more like fingers of death. Thank God they're going the other way.

Gen-X's and the Start of the Hurt

2004-09-15T15:20:00.000-07:00

20 March 2003.

TAA Hawkins.

Fletch finally gets the Tough Books out , placed in the Hummer's cab and covered with a poncho (light discipline ya know!). Now if the communications guys are on the ball, we'll be talking to higher headquarters in no time.

"Hey Harris, when's my line going to be run?" "I'm getting it out now Staff Sergeant" Harris is kind of goofy, but he reeks of earnestness and energy. Like Fletch, Harris always has a smile on his face and never gives you less than his best effort.

As I watch Harris go about his work I think, what the hell is with these kids? It must be something in the water because these aren't your normal Gen-X'ers. Yeah they all love to play Playstation, drink beer and get laid, in that respect they're just like any other 20-something year old kid, but all of them have spirit and guts. And like R. Lee Ermey said in Full Metal Jacket, "He's got guts and guts is enough".

Harris finishes his work. The laptop's little fan begins it's trance-inducing whine to fight the heat of the desert as the hard drive comes to life. Our junior officer, 1stLt. H. comes over and starts the process of plugging in the comm line and getting comms up. We need to get in touch with I MEF. I MEF is the largest Marine combat unit fielded since the last time Marines came to this part of the world to kick ass. As 1stLt. H. logs into the I MEF website he scrolls through the significant actions log. A Marine helo has crashed killing all aboard. It's an inauspicious start to the war and a bad omen.

Marines are dying and we haven't even crossed the border. There's a bit of silence, a pregnant pause as we internally mourn our fallen brothers. We have never met them but we still mourn them as if we did. The Marine Corps is a relatively small community so it's tough when we lose Marines. Even more so when it's an accident. There's something inherently wrong when good men are cut down before their time. (Don't read too much into this last statement folks, I don't blame anyone for it. We're at war and people get hurt or die. It's just the way it is.)

It's funny how the Corps makes men unknown to each other important. With war, that importance, that concern...well, it's how the Hurt starts.

It's In the Air

2004-09-14T14:52:00.000-07:00

20 March 2003.

Tactical Assembly Area Hawkins.

About three klicks from the Iraqi border and my skin is crawling. I had spent the better part of two months getting ready for this moment and now I'm chilled to the bone despite the heat of the Kuwaiti desert.

Regimental Combat Team-2, Task Force Tarawa, a conglomeration of East Coast Marine Corps units had been thrown together for this little gathering. Hell, RCT-2 wasn't even supposed to come ashore. Some last minute planning/begging insured that we'd at least have a partial mission instead of floating around in the Gulf as a deception maneuver, just as 4th MEB, our predecessors had done in the first Gulf War. Thank God that didn't happen. I know it sounds funny for a Marine to say it, but I absolutely hate boats. Always have, always will.

The desert in TAA Hawkins is bleak. Hell, it's more like the moonscape than anything. There's not even any scrub brush in this area. We pull the headquarters into a loose coil formation. All the vehicles pull into their positions with relative ease. We've practiced this delicate dance quite a few times so it comes as second nature.

As part of the main command post, we pull our Hummer into a square shaped formation with the Regimental Executive Officer's (XO) vehicle, the Fire Support Cell's (FSC) vehicle and the communications vehicle. It's about time we stopped this ride. My ass is asleep and I've gotta piss like a racehorse. Trust me when I say, they aren't gonna pull over a 60 vehicle convoy so someone can tinkle. Suck it up or start creating ways to piss on the fly (no pun intended). Just imagine driving cross country with a full bladder (it's full because you have to drink a ton of water so you don't dehydrate). I can tell you it's just no fun.

Anxious to relieve myself, I hop out of the Hummer. The Skipper follows just as quickly. As we both exit, we make eye contact. He's thinking the same thing as I am...what a shithole.

We take care of one point of business, so now it's time to take care of the rest. I yell to our driver Fletch to break out the Tough Books. Tough Books are ruggedized laptops that we can supposedly take anywhere to do the day to day work that my section does in support of RCT-2.

Fletch...what a clown. He never does anything without that wiseass grin on his face. He's from Jersey and I'm from NY. Despite that, we get along well. As well as a staff sergeant can get along with a lance corporal. There's three paygrades separating us and 10 years but we manage to get along fine. He reminds me of me when I was his age. Cocky, smart and willing to do anything to win. The main difference between he and I is that when I did shit I wasn't supposed to, I didn't get caught, he did. Still he is a little brother to me. You yell at them plenty but in the end you care for them more than they could understand. It's funny how attached you become to people. Two months prior, I only knew the officer-in-charge, Major M. and the section chief, Gunny Bill. Now, the feelings of brotherhood I have for all of them is like that of family and it amplifies everyday.

Funny how things like war will do that to people.

Round 2

2004-09-05T07:53:00.000-07:00

I should really point out that there is a disclaimer in my profile. It says that the opinions expressed in this Blog are mine and not the Marine Corps, DoD or US Governments. Nuff' said.

It's really fun, watching the Kerry/Edwards campaign come apart at the seams. I'm not one of these folks who questions his service, even though I have some questions with regards to the last Purple Heart which gave him the ability to run home. I know enough 3 Purple Heart Marines from Iraq that chose to stay with their units out of loyalty to them and their buddies. To me that is a big indicator on how well liked and how much Mr. Kerry cared about his Swift Boat unit.

What galls me and just about every veteran I know is what he did when he got back. As far as I'm concerned, Kerry should have been brought up on charges for his anti-war statements. He was still in uniform and technically, had no right to criticize the government, his former chain of command or his fellow veterans. You don't have the right to make unfounded statements against your fellow servicemen/women, especially as serious as the allegations he made. Besides, he also implicated himself in war crimes. So John, how come you weren't brought up on charges of violations of the Geneva Convention? Do you think that you are above the law? One thing you aren't above is the memories of those that were there. Payback's a medevac. Enjoy the ride.

I've been conducting research on Grenada for approximately two years now. I got it in my mind, a while back, to write a book about the United States invasion of Grenada in 1983. I was going to school, taking history classes and figured it was an interesting topic that there just wasn't a whole lot of info out on. When I first joined the Marines (1992), my first section leader had been a Grenada vet. This Sgt. was a great guy, cool as a cucumber, three combat op vet (Grenada, Beirut and Gulf War 1) and very smart. He used to tell me about hoping all over Grenada and helping to capture Bernard Coard (Coard was the Minister of Finance under Maurice Bishop, the Marxist Leader of Grenada, until his capture in 1983).

Fast forward to 2001. I'm going to school and in one of my history classes, I'm assigned a research paper on a 20th Century event. I decided to go with something outside the mainstream. I figured Grenada would be perfect. There wasn't much info on it. I remembered my former Sgt's firsthand accounts so I decided to go for it. What made it even more interesting was that for the first few days of the operation, the US had banned reporters from the island.

I know this doesn't seem very interesting but it gets better.

Intro/Welcome to the Show

2004-08-27T11:35:00.000-07:00

I figured this would be a good way for me to practice my writing skills and voice opinion. I got the idea for this from reading a Blog written by a soldier assigned to a Stryker unit in Mosul. Unfortunately, the powers that be decided to pull the kids Blog. Bad form. He was really good and to top it off, he didn't violate what we in the military fondly call OPSEC or operational security. Too bad. From my untrained eye, its easy to see he had/has a real future in writing.
I'll probably concentrate on writing about three things: my never ending quest to finish a book I'm writing about the invasion of Grenada, my time spent in Iraq and lastly some grousing concerning politics and my utter disdain for John Kerry.
Pretty straight forward. I'll probably spend much of my time writing about the latter two.
Fortunately, my time spent in Iraq was during the initial ground campaign. Things were much clearer then as we had clear cut objectives (kill the bad guys, find WMD, etc.). It was, as I've told friends and family, the best and worst time I've ever had in the Marine Corps. We had a great war-fighting team, I worked with super people and we didn't have much of the state-side bullshit that goes with the peace-time military. On the flip side, we lost good Marines capturing two bridges in Nasiriyah. The bite of it is, the majority were killed by our own Air Force.
Like I said, I'd like this to be a tool for practicing my writing, so feel free to post a comment when you think necessary. I look forward to the criticism.