Home Forums Miscellaneous Topics Military Made it to Iraq

Well Gents, I've made it to Iraq and have settled in to my digs for the next few months. Barring any change in mission I should be able to check in about every week.

I can't discuss where I am or exactly what I'm doing until I check with the S-2 to see what is cleared and what isn't, but things aren't as bad here as many think from whatching the news. Of course the people aren't exactly enamored with our presence, but hey would you be if an occupying military was blocking traffic all the time and arresting you almost daily?

The other day we did a cordon and knock on a house, one of the men had a weapons custody card but no AK. The Marines we are relieving were hollering at him to produce the rifle but he said they had taken it on the last raid, sure enough when we got back there was the paperwork. Heck, all 3 men in the house still had their detainee cards from the last raid on the house, guess they wanted to save us the time filling out more paperwork.

Gotta run, need to get my gear ready to outside the wire tomorrow. Check in when I can.

Semper Gumby (Stay Green and Stay Flexible)!!

Bob

Semper Fi, brother. Good hunting and godspeed.

Shane

Gunny_ Bob

GODSPEED

THANK YOU

If you need anything e-mail me your APO.

I PM'ed you my e-mail

Jeff

Gunny Bob:

Thank you for serving this great country.

We will pray for you.

God Bless,

BMT

Do you need anything that I could get and send to you?

Jeff

Bob,

Do good and come home safely.

John

Thanks for all the prayers and offers. Right now we are fine, living under a bridge along a major highway is getting old, but the PX is stocked well enough and we get one hot meal a day. The only big issue we have is that we can't get money from disbursing because our S-1 lost the split pay roster for the entire Bn and it will take at least one more payday to the accounts to open.

Other than that things are fine. Our company has been extended in it's mission on the highways twice so far and we are making regular runs into the base to allow Marines to change uniforms, take a shower, and get to the PX (like they have any money). I will have a couple of "adventures" to pass one once we get back to the base on a rotation, but that could be more than 2 weeks down the road. If we get the next mission I think we will I will start telling tall tales next time I'm in for a day.

Take care all,
Bob

During our stay at Camp Pendleton I was sent up to 29 Palms to learn about a new UAV the Marine Corps has called Dragon Eye. The Dragon Eye is a small airplane, about a 45" wingspan, comes in sections that are assembled just prior to a mission, is programmed to fly a route, can be retasked during flight, has a real-time video downlink (that can be reocorded if you have a video camera and connection cables), and can take pictures in flight. It comes with a number of cameras for different light conditions, launches with a big bungee cord and lands by simply skidding along on it's belly. The bird is designed to come come apart on landing to minimize real damage. The biggest drawbacks are it's limited flight time and the fact that it is easily damaged if the landing isn't really smooth. Often when we fly at night we tape chemlites to the bird so the bad guys can see we are watching them, if we don't want them to know the bird is up we tape IR chemlites on so we can see it coming in for a landing and find it.

About 2 weeks ago we had one of the Gunnys from comm out by our position to get the serial numbers off the radios and such we took possession of from the unit we relieved and to set up a retrans site for the Bn radio net. These guys don't get off the base much so they are always looking for a way to jump in on a patrol or some such "action". That night we were flying a Dragon Eye mission to check out a village to our south and look for anybody trying to place IEDs on the highway. The mission was planned to be under the time limit of the bird, so that shouldn't have been a problem. As I flew the mission the CO tasked me twice to do things that extended the mission by a few minutes, but I was still under the absolute maximum, until I hit a 20mph headwind that is. The bird flys at a set 35mph, head or tailwinds will change the speed accordingly.

Needless to say the bird did not make the landing area we usually set for it. Once I knew the bird had hit the ground I had to find it, there was no way I was going to see the Bn Cmdr and explain that I had lost a bird that the enemy could find, there is nothing sensative in the plane, but it's still not fun doing the carpet dance. The comm Gunny and I started out by asking some of the posts if they had seen it go down, thankfully we had green chemlites on or we would have been really out of luck. We were able to get a sort of resection of the location and the two of us pushed out of the wire. About 150m out we hit a north/south canal. My first concern was the bird went in the canal. About that time the other Gunny asked my how much ammo I had on me.

"The mag in my rifle, one in my pistol, I answered.

Unlike most Marines over here I don't like to carry everything on my flak, I prefer to use the LBV for my battle load, I have a mag pouch for each on my flak, but I only use them in the FOB (Forward Operating Base, our base camp) because we can't carry loaded weapons but must have a mag handy at all times. This suddenly became a big concern for him, not to mention there was only the two of us. So back we went into the platoon position to get more help and ammo.

We picked up 3 mortarmen who were just sitting around, I grabbed my LBV and off we went again. Unfortunately we forgot to cross the main east/west canal via the bridge we are guarding before we left the wire. Now we are on the wrong side of the canal and looking for a way to cross. There are two water pipes and a foot bridge we can see but they are a way off. The locals cross on the water pipes all the time so we figure it shouldn't be an issue and keep pushing, besides we can check out a couple of other fields on the way back. The first water pipe is about 300m out from the wire and I planned to cross there. As we were walking I kept turning my head back to the Gunny and telling him to walk in the quiet part of the road. For some reason he was right on my tail and somehow managed to stomp and drag his feet at the same time. The junior Marines kept a wide berth from him and I could hear them laughing.

"No way," the comm Gunny said when we got to the pipe.

I agreed, the pipe was about 2 feet in diameter and fully rounded on top, not to mention 30 feet above the water and we're wearing about 40 pounds of flak, SAPI plates, and ammo.

"Gunny, there's another pipe 200m down and a foot bridge the same distance further," my radioman tells me.

So we push on. About 400m later we hit the next pipe.

"You need your eyes checked, this is no 200m." I said, "How far is that bridge?"

"Just another 200m," he answered.

"200m like this? This is 400m, easy."

The pipe had flats welded on top and a rail along one side, not a great rail, but a handrail nonetheless. I told the patrol we were crossing here.

"No way," the Gunny whispered to me, "I'm afraid of heights.

"Me too, but I'm not walking another 400m, we'll be almost a klick out with nothing to show for it. We cross here, you don't like it go back."

Needless to say it took a while to get across, the other Gunny took 3minutes to cross a 50m bridge and probably didn't breathe the whole way. Once across he let out such a breath I thought he was going to deflate, which would have made me happy since I couldn't hear a damn thing with him stomping and dragging his feet right behind me. After we were all across we began heading back toward where I thought the bird went down. We covered much of the distance back quickly, stopping every once in a while to listen for the "lost comm" tone from the plane. Twice when I stopped the other Gunny bumped into me. Finally I told him if he couldn't keep his distance I'd intentionally cross the pipe again on the way back. That solved one problem, but not the Frankenstein walk.

As we got to the area we thought the bird went down in I stopped to listen. The next sound I heard was the crump of mortars landing in the area of our platoon position as a convoy rolled through. It's amazing, they really make a crump sound when you are on the receiving end. We dropped to a knee and faced outboard looking for the flash of mortar muzzles and I pulled out my compass. No luck, the lights of the convoy, the Army convoys drive with white lights on at night, destroyed any visibilty I had in the direction the mortars were. One of the Marines thought he saw the green chemlites, but I was being called back in due to the fire.

"I'm not coming back in, I found the bird," I replied

"The watch officer says he needs you to help with the call for fire," the RO called back.

"I'm almost a klick out, even if I run back it'll be too late. Do the call for fire yourself, besides, I'm safer out here; they're shooting at you, not me."

The barrage lasted about a minute, maybe a little more, and only about 5 or 6 rounds landed, none in the area of the convoy, so we picked up and headed off to the chemlites. We had to cut through a farmer's field to get there, the whole area is farm fields. From our platoon position I can count at least 15 houses, most in little one or two house clusters. At the end of the first field was another that looked kind of wet, I decided to hug the edge of the dry field, but not the comm Gunny, he waded right into 6" of wet (probably also fertilized) muck. Finally I saw the chemlites clearly, I got to the farmer's driveway, cut toward the house, and had to cut into the next field. We had dropped Marines at each major turn along the way from the road, through the field, and to the driveway so now only the Gunny and I were together. The last field was heavily furrowed but was dry dirt, the bird had crashed hard on landing and parts were all over the place.

Of course we were not alone, I had cut into the field only 20m from the house so the comm Gunny had about 8 dogs barking at him and the lady of the house outside scowling. I looked over and he's aiming in on the dogs, "Put your rifle down!" I yelled, "You're not going to shoot a dog in front of her unless it attacks you."

I picked up my plane, said good evening to the lady in Arabic (even though it was about 1 am by then), said I was sorry and we left. By now the Marines we had dropped off had come up to us and we walked up the driveway. Along the way we had to pass one more house, of course the commotion had waken the man of that house and he stood in his back yard with his arms crossed as we passed. Again we apologized and kept moving.

Some sight we must have been; 5 armed men walking up a driveway in the middle of the night with a toy plane.

Bob

good to see your still sound if not safe
SEMPER FI

Great story Gunny - Keep em' comin'

I don�t want this taken as a dig against our ING (Iraqi National Guard) allies, but working with them can be an adventure in itself. They really don�t do much, but then again it�s tough to allow them to. They�ve had serious security issues so we can�t include them in the planning of any operations. They don�t seem to take soldiering seriously, but we eventually have to turn over much of what we are doing to secure our lines of communication/supply over to them. Also, the local populace needs to see an Iraqi face on much of what we do so they don�t continue to consider our presence here an occupation.

A few days after the Dragon Eye incident above I was sitting outside the company CP reading a magazine. Our ING detachment, a portion of the squad that is assigned to the platoon position, was across the highway sitting on their cots cleaning their rifles. We had finally made it clear that they were expected to clean their weapons daily as our Marines do. Suddenly I heard a muffled bang.

A few of us rushed over to see what had happened and the Iraqis immediately tried to block our way and explain that everything was just fine. One of their soldiers was still sitting on his cot with his back to us. We got through and looked at the soldier, somehow this guy had managed to shoot himself in the hand with a pistol he had acquired somewhere.

Immediately the call of �Corpsman up!� went out. Marines who had just lay down to rest after a patrol jumped up to see what the commotion was and the calls of �Doc, doc!� were getting loud.

�Settle down!� the 1stSgt yelled, �Everything is under control. Stay where you are so we can work.�

The senior corpsman called for his medbag and started working on the wounded Iraqi. All this while the CO is talking to the ING Platoon Sergeant, through our interpreter, about what happened. We don�t see the officers much, just to drop off a new platoon every 4 or 5 days, and they never stay out with their soldiers. We don�t know where the soldier got his pistol, it wasn�t issued to him, so we took it away to turn over to the ING Captain later.

We called Bn and informed them of what happened; they asked us if we could transport the wounded man to the ING compound in Mahmudiya. We started to put together a motorized patrol for the drive in. By now the bandages were on and the Iraqi was asking for something to relieve the pain. The corpsman asked the CO for permission to give him an ampoule of morphine and he agreed. Once this was relayed to the Iraqi he was visibly relieved.

�Tell him he has to have the shot in his dick for it to work,� the CO told the interpreter. Trying to hold back his laughter he complied.

�Laa, laa,� the soldier said emphatically. �Laa� is Arabic for �No�, there was no way he wanted the morphine now.

Trying to hold back our laughter we tried to explain we were just joking. Perhaps our humor at his suffering was a little coarse, he was obviously shaken by the initial comment and our laughter. It didn�t help that about 5 of the Iraqi�s buddies were hanging around laughing by now, I�m sure certain words go beyond most language barriers. I�m also pretty sure his buddies were telling him it would make his penis fall off. Finally we got him to agree to the shot, in the leg, as directed. Unfortunately the first ampoule failed to inject so the doc pulled another out and started to prep it.

�Laa, laa,� the Iraqi said again.

He thought we were trying to kill him by giving him a second shot. More time wasted trying to explain that the first one didn�t work. By this time our patrol is mounted up and waiting for us to get the marksman loaded up. About this time the ING Platoon Commander pulled up with another squad to take the wounded man back to their compound. Our CO had a quick talk with the captain and we let them go. While the wounded man was being loaded up his pals were making crying and sheep-like noises at him. We got a good kick out of that also.

After the situation settled down we took a good look at the area. The bullet had skipped off the asphalt and the skip mark was pointed right at where I had been sitting. We saw our marksman friend a few days ago, he is doing well, but his friends keep on making crying noises around him. I guess that type of humor transcends militaries.

Thanks for the stories gunny - you sure aren't missing anything with the Packers - I would love to send them over there and have Ahman Green learn to run without dropping anything 4 times a game.

Take care and keep your head down.

what hapend to gunny bob ?

Hopin' here that he's still among the living, and has all his parts.

If his unit is in Fallujah, he's probably very busy.

I hope everthing is going well for him just thinking about our fellow marine's helping to protect us 'with the crucification of marine's trying to do thier job . I just wanted to wish him and every marine , as montana marine said "good hunting and god speed "
sean

I hope all is well with him and he lets us know whats going. God Bless and God speed for him.

Lutayfiyah

During our predeployment training we often heard of the other places in our AO besides Al Mahmudiyah. Names like Latifiyah, Yusufiyah, the Elm ASP, Jafr Sukr Bridge, and especially Lutayfiyah. Supposedly all the bad elements in our AO came from Lutayfiyah pass through Latifiyah, below the Elm ASP (that still has not been cleared of all the ammo stored in it), and then over the Euphrates River to the fight in Fallujah. The hotbed of former Saddamists, Sunnis, insurgents, and criminals were all supposed to be in Lutayfiyah. Prior to our company establishing a presence there Fox Company, along with most of the support the Bn could drum up and an under strength Army Stryker company had to take Yusufiyah and control the Jafr Sukr bridge. In addition to all the support listed above Fox went in with a fourth rifle platoon, our 2nd Platoon. Yusufiyah was a fight; it took over a week to settle down for such a small town and Fox ended up with 15 casualties including one KIA. This was a company plus operation in a town that is barely a kilometer square on the map. We were being sent into Lutayfiyah with one platoon and the city is four times the size.

Our mission statement had us occupying three buildings to set up a police station, ING station, and a small FOB for ourselves. The idea was we would conduct joint patrols with the ING/IP and put an Iraqi face on our occupation. We made our initial entry at 0500 on October 25th as stated in the mission from higher and quickly cleared out the squatters living in two of the buildings. Our building was the local telephone exchange, a much larger and more robust structure. It had a nice cinderblock wall surrounding the compound, a flat, tiled roof that had proven almost impervious to mortars in Yusufiyah, and enough space to put in a full platoon plus the HQ and Weapons Platoon attachments. The only thing wrong with the building, and we hadn’t seen this during our leader’s recon, was the 100-foot tower in the back. In all honesty we had seen it, but didn’t really think about it, what a mistake, it was a great aiming point. We immediately set up blocking positions, and started digging in the mortars we had in the back of the compound. The area picked was right off ASR Jackson (Iraqi Highway 8), the main north-south road through Lutayfiyah with a small frontage road between Jackson and the buildings. At about 1030 the ING and IP finally showed up with our Bn Cmdr and the officers of the Bn Staff. The ING/IP detachment brought about 12 vehicles, mainly Nissan four-door pickups (ING) and Toyota SUV’s (IP). Once the vehicles were pulled on to the frontage road the Iraqis got out and started milling around waiting to be told what to do. Within minutes we were under mortar attack, one round landed among a group of ING gravely wounding one soldier; the round removed his left leg. As one of our corpsman put it “If you hired a Hollywood B-Movie special effects guy with no knowledge of anatomy and told him what he wanted, this is what it would look like.” Seven other ING were wounded also. Minutes later we had called in air medevac and had triaged the wounded for the helos. The soldier with the leg missing did not live to see the helicopter take away some of his friends.

FOB Lutayfiyah wasn’t too bad, once you got past the daily shelling from 1000 to 1700. We had plenty of food and water, electricity, some rooms were air conditioned, and log runs came in once every three days. We set up a plan to rotate the platoons through for 10-day cycles and get the HQ and Weapons Platoon Marines here permanently back to FOB St. Michael about once a week. The biggest drawback was getting shot at, really shelled, daily. Most often the shelling came around noon or 1300, and was limited to three or four rounds fired in quick succession, seldom did they hit within 100m of the FOB. The enemy was using old 82mm mortar ammo and he had a few duds, one of which landed in the middle of our parking area. By October 27th we were getting kind of unhappy about being shot at. The rules of engagement don’t allow us to just shoot back; we must identify the point of origin (POO) before we can fire. Three of us; myself, the 81’s FO, and the Arty FO would stand on the roof of the building and try to see smoke or some other indicator of a mortar firing. We got lucky that day; we saw the smoke puff and immediately started the process to return fire. We got the 60’s up, the 81’s up, and requested 155 fires. Battalion cleared our 81 and 155 fires, we could clear our own 60’s, and we let everything fly. One of the MST (Mobile Security Teams, a new form of Combined Anti-Armor Team (CAAT) with the same equipment) happened to also see the target and said they saw a vehicle flee, but it was out of range.

Shooting back at that mortar simply made them move the position for the next day, behind a tree line so we couldn’t see them. We muddled through a day of intermittent attacks, nothing came very close and the engineers and 2nd Platoon continued to improve the positions. On the 29th we got hit again, but this time the gunner kept dropping rounds at us, nine or ten total. Luck was with us again and counter battery radar was covering our little area. The CBR saw the rounds, we called in the point of impact (POI) and Bn immediately called and cleared 155 fires, the first round landing before we heard the shot of the last enemy round. Given a nice grid by the CBR our 60’s and 81’s joined right in with a fire for effect each. We don’t know if we got the guy, a mixed helo section of one Cobra and a Huey flew over that night and reported good effect on the target grid, but aside from a family looking at the car in the driveway near the middle of target area there were no indicators of bad guys. Still we felt good about shooting back and enemy fires from the east shut down for a few days.

We had mitigated one threat and now faced another, the enemy began ranging us with 107mm rockets. Mortars aren’t very accurate, since the rounds fly slow and high there is a lot that can happen to them, but the tend to go where you point them. If one hits and the rounds keep impacting you know the gunner is probably just dropping rounds and not trying to adjust on to you. We would call this Harassing and Interdiction Fires (H&I); personally I think they were just registering us in a very slow way by shooting a group and then making contact with a local to discuss where the rounds landed. Rockets on the other hand are even less accurate, and carry a much bigger punch, so even if the enemy is still trying to register you there is a much greater chance you will be hit. I watched the explosion of one 107 and saw a chunk come flying off, push upwards to about 100 feet, and fall within 30m of me, spinning all the time like a boomerang. That piece was about a foot long and fully four inches wide. All I can remember thinking is; “that’s gonna hurt if it hits me.”

October 31st was especially interesting. I had finally received my two damaged Dragon Eyes back and the 2nd Platoon Commander, Captain Wagner, wanted me to fly the bird over the terrain an ambush patrol would be using that night. We had another mortar attack in the morning, the bad guys were starting to go to work before 1000, one round landed within 25m of our southern post along Jackson. I was up on the roof and because of the light rain and ground haze I had no idea where the fire was coming from. We stood down after five minutes and I got the Dragon Eye ready to fly. 1stSgt Eastwood had helped me fly my Dragon Eye before so I asked for his help again, he was happy to oblige. We went out to the parking lot with the Police Sergeant, Sgt Paquin, for security and set the bird up, we even got it launched with few problems. But about 30 minutes into the mission we heard the bang of RPG’s and then their impacts, on the other side of the building.

“Rocket!” I yelled.

Unknown to me at the time my two FO’s were sitting on the roof discussing the differences between RPG shots, mortar shots, and rocket shots when the rounds streaked mere feet from them and across Jackson to the east. Then small arms fire erupted, the 1stSgt and I hunkered down behind a stack of plywood and looked for the bad guys, no luck as usual. We yelled for Sgt Paquin to see how he was doing in all this and landed the plane without problems. Of course we packed up the gear as fast as possible and headed back into the FOB. Things were still happening, the mortars were waiting for a mission, the machinegunners on a nearby building had seen the enemy but been unable to fire and were calling in the fire, and 2nd Platoon was putting together a cordon and search team. I went up to the lower roof and my two FO’s were laughing like mad.

“Holy [bleep] Gunny, you should have seen it,” the 81’s FO, Cpl Barker, said, “I was sitting there talking and I saw this round fly less than 10 feet from us.”

“Yeah, we were definitely the targets.” The arty FO, Sgt Harris, added.

We got a fix on the building and waited while the cordon and search team got set up. In all the confusion nobody told the mortars what the deal was and they stood down after about 10 minutes. We watched and covered the cordon team as they did their thing, but the enemy was long gone by the time they arrived. During all of this I saw one of our Asian Marines, Chui Lee, who is most likely below 5 feet tall, pull a sandbag from the bunker on the east side of the roof to the western roof wall. He positioned it just so and then knelt down on it to get behind his rifle properly, I started laughing out loud. He looked at me and said; “That’s [bleep] up, Gunny.”

“Sorry, I’m not laughing at you, I just find the situation funny.” I said.

As the cordon and search squads decided to clear the entire block and were about half way through when more mortar rounds started landing. We still could not hear the outgoing rounds; they hunkered down and waited it out. We had been thinking for a few days that the enemy was firing from at least two and a half klicks and that the traffic on Jackson was muffling the sound, but the speed that the enemy could adjust got us thinking that perhaps after getting hit hard on the 29th they had closed the distance. A US M224 60mm mortar has five different charge settings from 0 to 4, indicating the number of increments you leave on the shell. Charge 4 gives a maximum range of 3500m, charge 0 a max range of 400m, but the sound at charge 0 is rather quiet, not much louder than an M203 and at 400m with traffic, other noise, and buildings in the way that sound could easily be lost. Our thought now, somewhat justified by a detainee the search squad brought in, was that the enemy was using the village to block our view and was much closer.

As I was checking my positions a while later the machinegun post that had called in the building the RPG’s had come from told me that the rifle fire was directed at the three of us working the Dragon Eye. They had seen tracers flying from an alley to the south, in front of their position and over our heads. Later that day Capt Wagner tasked me with another Dragon Eye mission. I took just the Sgt Paquin as the 1stSgt had to return to FOB St. Michael. Again we took an incoming RPG or two, but they were not well aimed and we continued with the mission. True to my Dragon Eye experiences I had an interesting flight; my first attempt at landing during the early mission had the bird coming in too far west, so I adjusted the LZ east. I used the same LZ for the evening flight, but the winds had died and now the LZ was too far west, I had the bird come around again while I adjusted the LZ back to the east. All looked well, but the bird was too far east this time, I could adjust it again. I hit the key to abort the landing and the bird powered up, too late, it didn’t gain the altitude it needed, flew about 8 feet over the lower roof of our building and smacked right into one of our OE-254 antennas. I thought I had lost another bird. The Marines on the roof had been taken by surprise to hear a little battery powered plane fly past them and then crash, We did a little looking and found all the parts, a little duct tape and a new propeller blade and I was back in business.

As a last note on October 31st our Company Commander was relieved and moved up to the S-4 shop. Probably a good move in the long run, his original MOS was supply and there were some issues. My take on him was that he was a great peacetime officer, but he was too afraid to risk the lives of his Marines to accomplish the mission. Our XO, Major Holton, took over and Captain Wagner took over as the XO. Our new CO took the time to write an excellent brief that was given to the NCOs of each platoon as they rotated through Lutayfiyah that really drove home the mission. The mission statement read. “Maintain a joint ING/IP/Marine presence in Lutayfiyah and fortify a compound to be handed over to the established Lutayfiyah police force in order to establish the conditions for a return of Iraqi Civil Administration.” During the brief Maj Holton, who loves his Power Point slides, outlined various thoughts on what constituted our mission, steps involved in accomplishing it; like USMC Presence Patrols, Survivability/Counter Mortar, and so on, and showed where we could do those things we controlled and not accomplish the mission. Mission accomplishment hinged very much on gaining and maintaining a working relationship with the Iraqis and getting them out to patrol, both with us and on their own, and creating enough of a relationship with the populace to begin to effect the insurgents in the area.

The Magic Bullet

While on Tampa the platoons make daily runs back to FOB St. Michael (Al Mahmudiyah) to pick up supplies, drop a few Marines off for showers and PX runs and the like. The patrols drive like mad. Once on Tampa, half of which is closed to civilian traffic, speeds reach 70 mph in hummers as long as they don�t shimmy too much. On the way back one day one of our patrols �Golf 3 Mobile� was driving south on Tampa and heard what they thought was gravel being kicked up by the tires as they approached an overpass.

When they arrived at the platoon position they noticed the hummer was beginning to overheat and run rough. Upon inspection of the hood before raising it they found no less than three bullet holes in the hood. One bullet had entered the passenger side front of the hood at a shallow angle, traveled through the coolant reservoir, into the passenger compartment where, due to passing through the metal heater duct, it angled upwards passing within inches of the passenger�s head, struck the metal support for the canvas top, took a 90-degree turn to the left and out the canvas top. The fact that the passenger was missed at all was amazing, but considering the size of Sergeant Gillitzer it was almost impossible. Sgt Gillitzer is big, heavily muscled; the only thing I can compare him to is Arnold Schwartzenegger in Conan The Barbarian.

The patrol continued to check the vehicle and found three more holes or new scratches in the body of the hummer or on the side armor. That seven Marines could come under fire like that and not know it was astounding, but the thing that will stay with me forever is the image of a huge Marine sitting there while a bullet kennedy�s it�s way around him.

Things That Make Me Think

While at Camp Pendleton we received classes on the cultural sensitivities of Muslims and the Iraqis in particular. Our Division Motto �No Better Friend� No Worse Enemy� was driven into our heads, along with Gen. Mattis� theme of �Think as if every Iraqi wants to kill you, but don�t treat them that way.� Once we arrived in country most of this seemed to out the window. Our FOB is small, about 1000m one way and 600m the other. We have two vehicle gates we can enter or exit from and both enter right onto ASR Jackson (Highway 8). Jackson is busy, traffic flows heavily through north Al Mahmudiyah at almost all hours, there are no traffic lights or stop signs, no speed limits, and it�s the main highway from Karbala to Baghdad. Yet when we leave our compound we make no attempt to wait for a break in traffic, instead a hardback hummer with a machinegun pulls out into the near lane, then another vehicle into the far lane (this is a divided highway) forcing all the vehicles on the road to check the current status of their brakes. Any vehicle failing to stop in time gets a burst into the grill; any further advancement gets a burst through the windshield. Many of the gunners signal the vehicles to stop by waving their hand toward the ground from the elbow, like dribbling a basketball, a sign used by the Iraqis only on their dogs, thereby offending them. Once the rest of the convoy/patrol has passed between the hummers the convoy screams along faster than the flow of traffic. This forces the Iraqis to pull over to the shoulder. If a vehicle fails to see the hummers coming they get yelled at as they are passed and rifles or machineguns pointed at them, in extreme cases tires are shot out. How many of us have been cruising through town and didn�t hear the ambulance siren coming up behind us? All of this is done from a force protection standpoint; one of the biggest threats, the first I experienced, is the Suicide Vehicle-borne Improvised Explosive Device (car bomb), so speed and aggression save lives, but I�m sure we make more enemies than friends. Ultimately I wonder if saving lives today won�t cost us lives in the long run.

In addition to firing at vehicles that cross marked trigger lines or approach our convoys we shoot at vehicles that get too close while on patrol. Often we stop during patrol to check out a house or set up a quick checkpoint to search for weapons or explosives. During short stops the Marines pile out, if on a vehicle patrol, and form a defensive perimeter, usually just standing in the road or along a wall. Hummers with machineguns are positioned along the roads leading into the area and Marines establish trigger lines in their heads about 30m out in front of them. Iraqi drivers are terrible; Jackson is a 4-lane divided highway, yet as soon as we stop traffic in one direction we have 5 lanes to deal with; the original lanes, the shoulder, median, and the opposite lane�s shoulder. Just dealing with correcting the traffic flow when we are done is daunting and we�ve simply given up; we let the drivers figure out how not to get killed. When we did our leader�s recon into Lutayfiyah we drove some of the back roads to get the lay of the town. On one stop I was talking to some local teenagers when I heard three shots. I went around the corner to see what had happened and there was one of our sergeants talking to a well-dressed man in the street. The man�s car was listing slightly to the driver�s side and a puddle was growing under the engine. When I came up to them I could hear them talking, the man was apologizing profusely for making a mistake, explaining that he was the local schoolmaster, was preoccupied with his work, and since he lived just around the corner wasn�t paying attention. The CO and I talked to him, made sure he was unhurt and checked his identification. A quick search of the car turned up nothing to significance and the sergeant and I pushed his car around the corner for him. Maj Durham explained that we would report the incident to our Battalion Commander, LtCol Smith, (standard procedure) and that if he took pictures of his car and came to the FOB on Tuesday he might get some compensation to help pay for repairs. Like most Iraqis he was obviously reluctant to come to our base, it might appear as if he was giving us information thereby putting his life and family at risk.

After days of being shelled in Lutayfiyah we finally got two days of good observation on the enemy�s firing positions. In both cases though we were a little too late with our return fires to affect the enemy directly. Still, shooting back relieves a lot of tension. On November 15th we got lucky and the 1st Cavalry Division CBR caught the enemy fire for us. We had rounds going back out in less than five minutes and they were spot on, they were quickly followed by artillery fires from FOB St. Michael. In all we covered a 300m area in fires over the course of 8 minutes, but again we just missed him. A foot patrol in the area heard the rounds being fired at us, saw our impacts and decided to move there to conduct a Battle Damage Assessment (BDA). The BDA was one cow and numerous chickens killed, an unknown number of animals wounded. When they got there the farmer told them he knew who had shot at us, but was afraid they would see him talking to us and asked them to leave and come back later. The patrol went back after dark and picked up the farmer. The farmer gave up a great deal of information, including the fact that he was now more afraid of us because we had proven we would shoot back with a lot of firepower and he couldn�t afford to lose any more livestock or his home. It seemed very odd to me that the locals would allow insurgents to use their land to fire upon us, they refuse to take action for fear they would be hurt. In the end it seems the only way to make them help us is to negatively affect them enough to force them to help us help them.

The First Hard Day

November 8th was the first really hard day for Golf Company. We had one Marine wounded early on by friendly fire, but he was recovering in Camp Pendleton, on the 8th we lost five Marines from our company, three KIA and two wounded. Two of the KIAs were from my platoon, Cpl Robert Warns II and LCpl Brandon Ramey. The other Marines were LCpl O�Donnell (KIA), LCpl Kruchten (WIA), and SSgt Simon (WIA) who was a good friend of mine. The Marines were all part of 1st Platoon (my Marines were attached to them) who had come down from their position on Tampa north of Al Mahmudiyah to patrol the area of northern Lutayfiyah known as Hay (pronounced �aye�) Salam. They had completed the bulk of their patrol and were north of a major east-west canal when the hummer they were in was hit by an IED. I was in the FO post on our main building when I heard the blast over 4 kilometers away and saw the smoke. The calls into the FOB became frantic once the initial blast cleared. Sgt Abbott of 1st Platoon did an outstanding job of keeping calm in the face of the situation; he secured the site, reported the incident and the situation, and kept the CP updated.

As the situation developed we realized that they had two wounded Marines immediately and began to call in a medevac helicopter, but three Marines were still unaccounted for, the initial calls said �There are body parts all over!� There was silence in the CP as we crowded around the radios and listened to the CO continue to gather information. We put together a QRF (quick reaction force) of a reinforced squad to go up to their position and help, they left within five minutes. The squad from 1st had to put up with a little small arms fire directed at them, but it was not aimed fire and ineffective.

The hummer was hit hard, the IED had been detonated under the vehicle just behind the driver�s compartment and the vehicle was torn apart. As the QRF from 3rd Platoon arrived they found a scene of utter carnage, smoke still hung in the area, pieces of vehicle were strewn all over, as well as weapons and equipment, and of course the bodies of the three Marines killed. Items were found as far away as 500 meters. LCpl Peters, who had earlier been responsible for wounding Sgt Cornell in the friendly fire incident, was on the radio with the medevac bird, �Medicine Man�, and given the gravity of the two incidents he was involved in was doing great. I later told him that as he stood by the door of our FOB shaking. With the bird away and 1st continuing to secure the area 3rd had the grisly job of finding what they could of the hummer, gear, and worse of all the bodies. Incredibly the bodies were still intact, not much of a consolation, but a change from what we were expecting given the Iraqi who blew himself and his car up at one of our checkpoints during our first week.

The dirty work done the squad from 3rd escorted the squad from 1st down to our FOB to spend the night. As they entered they were visibly shaken, but certain Marines like Sgt Abbott still had the constitution to debrief the CO. By this time word had gotten to the Marines of Weapons stationed in Lutayfiyah, about two-thirds of the platoon. Warns and Ramey were very popular Marines and their loss was already taking a toll. Once we were sure of whom was killed Sgt Tim Moore, the Machinegun Section Leader, asked if he could break the news to the Marines. I granted him that, but tagged along to see if I could help at all. Marines are a tight knit group, and combat Marines that much more so, but I think Reservists are a step beyond. Many of these young men knew each other long before Boot Camp, they grew up in the same towns, went to school, dated the same girls, and joined up together, a few even live together at college. Most see each other off and on between drills if not at parties, going hunting, or at work. I knew the loss would hit some hard, it was not my place to judge this, but rather to facilitate it. I felt the loss also, I had known Warns and Ramey for six and three years respectively, they were fine men. Nobody felt they were required to hold anything back, one or two cried openly, most of us just let our emotions choke us up. It would be my job over the next few days to finalize things with the rest of the platoon and take care of their personal effects. I could have farmed this job off to my SSgt Bouzek, but I felt I needed to do it first. He was having as hard a time as any realizing the loss, he had opportunity to talk to Warns and Ramey prior to their patrol of Hay Salam, I hadn�t because I was in the FO post.

I spent that night writing personal letters to the parents of both Marines, something I was hoping I wouldn�t have to do. It was hard on me, I had to stop three times and collect my thoughts. There was so much I wanted to say, but the words just wouldn�t make it to the pen. I limited my comments to one page on each Marine, I wanted the parents to know their sons weren�t just Marines to us, they were people; young men who had friends who would miss them.

On November 9th I went to 1st and 2nd Platoon�s positions on Tampa with the Chaplain to talk to the rest of the machinegunners and assaultmen attached to 1st Platoon. They were already coming out of their initial grief, so I thought talking was going to help. Unfortunately Chaplain Manila didn�t help much, I tried to push him in the right direction; telling the Marines they need to get it out now, that holding it in would help keep the pain away now, but eventually it had to come out, and when it comes out later it will come out harder. I suggested that those who were friends take the time to write, it would help them remember the good things and begin the process. The hardest part was reminding them that we still had missions to accomplish, that they were responsible for manning their positions, and that we couldn�t retaliate.

�This is war, and in war the enemy has a will also.� I told them, �You can�t control who gets hurt and who doesn�t, who dies and who doesn�t, that�s just the way it is. 1st Platoon and our Marines did everything right, but sometimes you can do things perfectly and the bad guys still take a few of us. That�s just the way things are.�

On the way back from 22A I was riding in the back of the trail hummer when we say three people crossing overpass 24A. Capt Hoffmann decided to try to stop them and pulled the patrol off the road as if there was an exit ramp to the overpass. The 7-ton in front of me hit a landmine and my driver slammed on the brakes. The 7-ton kept moving out of the blast area to assess the damage. I silenced the other three Marines in the hummer and yelled to the driver, �Breese, listen to me, I�m going to back us out of here. I need you to listen to me as I give you directions and back up slowly, there may be more mines.�

I hung my upper body out over the back of the armor plating on the highback and directed us back onto the highway. The four of us secured the southern approach to the scene and waited for a wrecker and EOD to show up to deal with any other mines that might have been in the area. The mine we hit was a small one, most likely an antipersonnel mine, since the vehicle was repaired and back on the road in only two days. The only injury was to the lone corpsman riding in the back who was lifted about three feet in the air and came back down hard on the seat, he strained his back. I got back to FOB Al Mahmudiyah late on the 9th and spent most of the night talking to other Marines and sailors in the unit about the happenings of the past few days.

I slept in a little later than I wanted to on November 10th; I needed to meet up with Sgt Abbott and Sgt Paquin about inventorying the gear for our dead and wounded. I rushed through breakfast, the first hot meal I�d had in weeks, and went to the rear CP. Sgt Paquin already had a hummer lined up for us to move gear with so all we had to do was go to the tents and collect things up. Sgt Jeff Moore and a couple of other Marines form Machineguns had already started packing up the gear. Part of the process is called �Sanitizing�, we make sure there is nothing that the family wouldn�t want to see; pornography is the main issue, but there can always be others, in this respect it�s a good idea to really know your Marines or have a good friend of the Marine present to help. Once everything was moved over to Supply we released the Marines to some time off so we could finalize the inventory process.

I was told to find GySgt Picazo or MSgt Winiecki, neither of whom was available when I arrived. I asked the young Corporal, Navarro, who we could report to in order to complete the inventory he informed me that he took care of that. I couldn�t believe my ears; I damn young Corporal was being given the responsibility of inventorying the gear of dead Marines. I apologized to him for our battalion not being organized enough to ensure a SNCO or Officer was assigned this duty. I don�t feel Cpl Navarro was incapable, far from it; he was an amazing help and rather knowledgeable, but this kind of duty is for a SNCO or Officer. This was probably the first time I was embarrassed to belong to this battalion. And I mentioned it to everyone who would listen for the rest of the week.

Sgt Abbott and I decided to sort the gear by individual, starting with the Marines who�d been killed. It was very surreal digging through the personal and military items of the dead, but it had to be done. We sorted the equipment from the uniforms from the civilian items and put them in the appropriate boxes or turned them back in to supply as required. There�s a long list of items that can�t be sent home; batteries, food, aerosols, toothpaste, and so on. We are supposed to throw that all away, but instead we collected it up and took it back out to our positions for others to use. The thing that disturbed me the most wasn�t the act, but the situation in Supply.
In the end I think I needed to do this, it provided me with a bit of closure on the Marines. I had considered that I would lose Marines from my platoon, but it is still difficult. Between the letters to the parents and packing the gear to send home I felt I had fulfilled an obligation to the Marines.

We were unable to complete all five sets of gear and our 1stSgt came to tell us that we needed to be ready to leave the FOB by 1400. He said he and Sgt Paquin would finish the last set of gear after we left. We thanked Cpl Navarro for his hospitality, he let us drink his coffee and soda, and in general was always available, and moved the last set of gear into position. We then left, packed our gear for the trip out and met up with the convoy back out.

For those unaware with the Marine Corps November 10th is the birthday of the Corps, and all locations were being given a treat, a hot meal of steak, lobster tails, and crab legs. Our convoy was going to take us down to Lutayfiyah, drop off our chow then move back up Tampa to the FOB stopping at the Marine positions along the way to give them their chow. We packed up the vat cans, organized them so each position got enough food and moved out. The movement back was uneventful and the meal was very welcome, for those of us at Lutayfiyah it was the first hot meal we had received since we occupied our little FOB on October 25th. In the end we renamed the Lutayfiyah position FOB ROW for Ramey, O�Donnell, and Warns.