MARCH
BACKGROUND
Captain Brown arrived home at Fort Carson, Colorado, on 19 March 2004. The war in Iraq was temporarily over for the soldiers of the 1st Battalion, 8th Infantry, but certainly not for the U.S. Army. Indeed, events in March precipitated some of the bloodiest fighting of the war. Some argue that the large-scale rotation of American units caused a loss of traction, as new units took up the fight without the experience, personal connections, and intelligence appreciation of those they had replaced. Several days, or even weeks, of transition could not make up for a year's worth of combat operations in Iraq.
On 28 March the Coalition Provisional Authority forced the closing of Muqtada al-Sadr's newspaper Al Hawaz for its persistent anticoalition stance and its support for anticoalition activities. Within a week al-Sadr's Mahdi militia launched attacks on coalition forces and their Iraqi allies in Kufa, Karbala, Najaf, al-Kut, and the Baghdad suburb of Sadr City. The most disturbing aspect of these widespread attacks was that they occurred in the theretofore largely quiescent Shia areas of Iraq.
Not to be outdone, a Sunni mob in Fallujah killed and mutilated four U.S. contractors, hanging their charred bodies from a bridge in a scene grimly reminiscent of Mogadishu a decade earlier. Anticoalition attacks within the Sunni Triangle continued unabated.
Not all attacks were directed against the coalition. On 2 March, the holiest feast day of Shia Islam, suicide bombers in Karbala killed more than 180 Shia pilgrims and wounded over 500. The attack seems to have been intended to increase tensions between the Sunnis and Shia, just as similar attacks in February seem to have been designed to foment unrest among the Kurds.
Not everything associated with the unit rotational period was bad news. On 1 March the Iraqi Governing Council announced the results of weeks of hard bargaining, to include agreements that Islam would be a basis rather than a source of civil law, that 25 percent of transitional assembly seats would be set aside for women, that endorsed federalism, and that endorsed a continuation of the then-current Kurdish government. Several weeks later it signed an interim constitution after negotiations that again resolved points of contention among the involved parties. Whatever the ebb and flow of events on the battlefield,
only the emergence of effective Iraqi governance would allow U.S. forces to withdraw successfully.
2 March: The shower down here has deteriorated into a no-win situation. If the heater works, we run out of water. If we have full water tanks, the heater breaks. I have reverted to the solar shower since returning from Samarra. I have a little routine of putting the shower out when I first get up and letting it warm up until midday. I then heat up water in the coffeepot-one pot for days over 65 degrees and two pots for days under 65. It's really a foolproof system because the coffeepot must always work. I have found there really ain't nothing quite like an Avian coffee-flavored shower after running and shooting. Tomorrow Red Platoon moves into the Corps Tactical Assembly Area for redeployment.
Since our combat power has started dwindling, I had to take the first sergeant and our guys out to the promotion board at Eagle TOC. I brought my book and planned on just chilling out while I waited for our meeting to start at 1400. I logged onto e-mail in the S-3's office and was stealing some of his chow. I called home and was talking to my parents.
Whoom! Whoom! Whoom! Great, we had incoming 120-mm. mortars ... and those are really loud. I ran into the TOC and listened to all the chatter. I don't know the area real well, so I kinda watch as the ten-digit from the Q36 comes in, the mortars lay onto it and fire, and then I take my section and follow the scouts to the point of origin. I am used to my sector, so it was weird chasing bad guys someplace else. We followed the Kiowa helicopters onto the point of origin. The white phosphorus was still burning when we pulled up, and Sergeant First Class Bolyard and I started running through the orchards. It was getting hot again. We found a 120 firing point but no mortar. I spotted a possible cache, but when we dug we found nothing. Lieutenant Colonel Sassaman had his interpreter, but no help from the locals today. I had flashbacks to the summer, sweating through my Kevlar helmet. We fired some more counterfire for area denial, but it proved another fruitless game of cat and mouse. The rest of the day we spent in the meeting and waiting for the board to finish. Sassaman and I were sitting out on the front porch talking about things.
Wham! A rocket lands right out in front of the perimeter-so much for an easy day. Everyone ran to positions, and we left back to our FOB. What a
nightmare of a day, just getting bombed. The Q36 didn't pick up anything, so it was most likely one of the 57-mm. rockets fired indirect. We have to move up to the LSA tomorrow. I guess it's one of the steps along the way, but it will be tough moving onto post with all the rules, rockets, and general stupidity.
5 March: The lieutenant colonel came down for an Article 15 for one of the guys who drank all the Iraqi whiskey. The move to Anaconda and closing of Lion FOB proved long but not too trying. The lifestyle has definitely improved in the realm of e-mail, showers, and toilets. Very nice. They have hired Filipinos to clean and service all the showers so that they actually work-well. We all lined up inside Kevin Ryan's connex hut to do the UCMJ [Uniform Code of Military Justice].
Kaboom!
Great, a rocket landed 400 meters to our south. We were supposed to do an Air Force bomb drop at 2100, so we all just assumed that it was the repercussions from said event, until we saw all the dust and dudes running to the bunker. Sassaman and I ran over to my CP and started talking on the radio with the Kiowas. The point of origin was to the south, exactly where we don't have any OPs. moved their QRF there, and we pushed the Kiowas over to their net. I had my guys set out checkpoints, but I knew we couldn't get over to that side of the LSA in time to do anything. They didn't counterfire, so we just got worked over ... I hate getting sucker punched over and over again up here. We then went back to the Article 15 and finished that action. There is nothing quite like doing UCMJ during a rocket attack.
6 March: The chow hall has come a long way since we moved up here. My stomach shrank from the MRE diet, so I can really eat only two meals a day. I normally eat a powerbar and work out in the morning, so by the time lunch hits I'm starving. As more people move into the LSA, the lines get more and more out of control. I was standing in line chilling out talking when we heard some explosions on the north side of the airfield. I didn't think much of it until I heard the 155-mm. cracking away. No one in line did anything ... even flinch. I ran into the chow hall and got all my guys out onto the Bradleys. The CP called up the grid to the rocket launch. It's from the all-too-familiar Abu Hishma orchard. My White Platoon moved to the area while I waited at the gate for a wingman. The Kiowas came on station and started searching. About ten minutes into the search, they spotted the rockets from the air. It was an incredible find from a helicopter. They also
spotted the getaway truck with a flat next to the launch site and confirmed that no one was in it. I pulled into the orchard right as they found the truck and gave them permission to destroy it with rockets once they confirmed that the Bradleys weren't in the gun target line.
"Yeah, just do a south to north gun run and ensure none of the tracks are inside the danger zone. Take the commands from my White element. I don't know exactly where this truck is located," I instructed.
"Dragoon 26, White One. We are cleared," Amick told him.
"Yeah, there is one track that's a little close, but we'll hit it from an angle," Dragoon 26 told us. The birds looped around and flew straight by my track, popped up for the rocket launch, and hammered the truck ... right next to my Bradley-I was the track that was a little close. Wowsers! That was really close, as I look at the hood fifty meters away. They fired off eight rockets and then went to refuel while we prepared to demo the 89-mm. rocket they spotted. The adrenaline was quite high as we watched the rockets zing by. It was pretty close and pretty awesome. Not too many people get to clear helicopter rocket fire in their AO, but I guess I got that luxury. We conducted a clearance by fire of the orchard area and then cleared the rest of it with infantry. Nothing there but date trees and angry cattle.
The scouts brought out some demolition with the BC, and we blew the rocket in place with about ten sticks of C4 ... nine more than necessary, but we have to get rid of the ammunition somehow. We nominated the grid for a 2,000-pound Air Force bomb drop, and then I headed out to the TOC for some chow and a transfer of authority meeting with 1-77 IN. I am totally famished. The meeting was really long, and my guys went over to drop mortar rounds for H&I fires. I guess it freaked out Red Platoon. They couldn't get commo with us, so they moved to the TOC because they thought we were in contact. It worked out because now we have five tracks to run the Route Linda gauntlet with the 1-77 IN guys.
8 March: I spent the day with my replacement, taking him around to all the towns and showing him the various haunts and leaders. They were asking how we keep the people away from us. I think they were a bit shocked when we walked straight into the town with the whole pied-piper mob, drinking tea and eating bread. They were concerned that the tea was poisoned. That seemed pretty funny to me after all the stuff we have eaten and drunk over
here at the houses. I guess our TTP and methods on patrol would probably shock most people. We had the whole Abu Baqara mob scene going. The father of the cows can't really walk the town in peace. It is entertainment to say the least; too bad we didn't have the real interpreter. He is on leave.
10 March: The 1-26 IN guys had just finished getting their reactive armor on right when I heard the BC going crazy on the net. We all thought someone was in contact, but it turned out to be one of my OPs sunbathing up on the bluff ... what a group of morons. I thought for sure he was going to fire them. Complacency is such a killer. These static OPs are killing us. The platoon sergeant was on the OP and really didn't get it. I can't believe how much babysitting is required. It's the same guys that got ambushed 100 meters from there. Dumb a-es! Well, now I have to take them all out to the TOC for a screaming. It worked out decently since I already had to take the 1-26 guys out there and show them Route Linda and the police station. Of course, right when we go into the session we take rockets at the FOB. What is up with all the firing? We spent the next hour and a half chasing phantoms since the Q36 didn't acquire the rocket. We finally got the meeting over with but had to push the bomb drop back to 2130. We also had the sample raid with the new guys on the south side of the canal right after. Red had the Air Force liaison element, and we pulled up to the site at 2129.
"We got three minutes until the drop."
"Roger." About thirty seconds later they call: we have forty seconds until impact. About ten seconds later we get the Kaboom! and shockwave. The flash is pretty damn big and right on target. A 2,000-pound bomb from 1,000 meters away is pretty awesome. Crazy days! I link up with the platoon leader for the hit, and we decide to do it light infantry style, not wanting to take the Bradleys across the canals. The two battalion staffs and onlookers outnumbered the raid force by about two to one. It's a good thing this guy isn't a super legitimate target. The raid goes down, and we get one of the HVTs from our battalion list. We cleared about five houses and had their squad leaders clear one of the houses. One of the guys we detained was a Guz Gazani-the guys that eat glass, shoot themselves, and pierce body parts as a part of their religious ceremonies. We released the ol' boy since he was part of the performance last Halloween and we like those guys.
13 March: Well, we are inside the wire. We just sit here trying not to go crazy. Our days revolve around PT and food. Lieutenant Colonel Sassaman
and Matt Cunningham went up to Tikrit today for their General Officer Article 15 over the Alpha Company drowning incident. Basically, a platoon from Alpha company forced two guys into the water near the Samarra Dam as punishment for violating curfew (an incredibly stupid if not illegal decision on the platoon's part). The platoon leader claimed that he saw the guys get out of the river and start walking back toward town. Their relatives claimed that they had drowned and demanded the $2,000 death gratuity from the Americans. Sassaman demanded to see the body before he would pay the gratuity, and the Iraqi relatives brought him some body that they dug up from the cemetery. Sassaman didn't really need to play CSI Miami to understand that they were trying to pull a fast one on him and get some money out of the deal. A higher-level criminal investigation was launched into the whole ordeal, and Sassaman told the soldiers involved to not talk to the investigators about the water. He wanted to handle the punishments in house since he did not trust his chain of command.
All this of course came out in the investigation, and Sassaman ended up getting punished for the cover-up. It was so stupid that Sassaman took the fall over this one. He is such a great leader. I am just sitting here wondering if he is still the battalion commander; it's a killer after all we have been through over here. Sassaman really shouldn't have tried to defend those guys. It's all so stupid and will cause us to leave here with an incredibly bitter taste in our mouths. The irony Sassaman faces on the other side of the Article 15 table is replete. I wrote a character statement:
Dear Major General Odierno:I am not certain of the Division's open door policy, but I felt the necessity to serve as a write-in character witness for Lt. Col. Sassaman's Article 15. I have known Nate Sassaman since I was nine years old. We used to vie for his autograph at Army Football games, and my respect and super status for the man hasn't really wavered over the past nineteen years. As a kid I unknowingly watched him turn around a terrible football team into a bowl-quality organization. As an adult I watched him systematically take a battalion with the absolute worst command climate I have seen and turn it into the best command climate I have witnessed to date. He is the best fighter in the battalion, the kind of soldier who would be the best squad leader in the company or the best commander in the army at any level. I know his tough, passionate leadership inspired me to stay in the Army when I was definitely getting out. He is the most gifted leader I know.
The irony of seeing my boss get an Article 15 is not lost upon me. We have dealt with the infractions of the soldiers in our microcosm and know the incredible pain of
punishing those that have done such phenomenal jobs over this past terrible year. I know we didn't want to punish them, but we understood the need of zero defects for certain sins. Lt. Col. Sassaman has spoken to me of the decision he made, and he has mentally abused himself for this poor split-second decision. A poor decision made against the backdrop of thousands of good ones that undoubtedly saved soldiers' lives. The Iraqi populace that we deal with daily connives and distorts the truth to gain money and privileges, which causes you to approach every allegation with a bit of incredulousness. Our opinion of the Iraqis following the death of Capt. Eric Paliwoda was at an all-time low, and no one in the battalion had the right frame of mind following that event. It didn't help that we had a particularly gruesome RPG contact earlier that day in which Eagle Six personally came to reinforce us ... and help place the bad guys in body bags. At the time of the infraction, I think we were all just trying to move on after a particularly bad month whose repercussions continue to follow us.Our battalion operates on a higher level because of the incredible loyalty we feel towards the Battalion Commander. I really haven't seen this degree of loyalty in any organization I have served. He can get soldiers to reenlist just by personally asking them. This loyalty runs both ways and serves as the Shakespearian tragic flaw in this story. His desire to protect the junior leaders, in a case where the burden of proof rested on the accused, has caused all his current personal trouble.In many ways, the morale and esprit de corps of this battalion following this bitter year of fighting will be determined tomorrow. The five members of this command who know of the Article 15 will anxiously await and pray for the results with the full realization that all things happen for a reason. The greatest compliment in our profession a senior can pay to a subordinate is to have his son serve in the subordinate's command. I know my father wished that for me and Lt. Col. Sassaman, and I never regretted a moment of it. Our faith in Lt. Col. Sassaman's and your leadership remains unshaken regardless of the outcome. We all hope to be in Col. Sassaman's Brigade but realize the unenviable position you hold in regards to this matter. Our thoughts and prayers will be with you both tomorrow as you deal with this daunting task. Thank you for your outstanding leadership this year and your consideration in this matter.
Oh well, it will probably all backfire. The Army has an uncanny way of chasing off talented leaders, and Sassaman is certainly one of those. Waiting is so painful-waiting for the HETs, waiting for the planes, and waiting on this decision. Of course, there are about 10,000 changes ... and all the changes are in the wrong direction-keeping us here in Iraq longer.
I have gotten to swim the past two days and to take guys rug shopping. Of course, the owner was so happy that I brought guys to his store that he wanted to sell me another rug at cost. The tractor beam of Persian carpets simply engulfs me. I guess we all have our hobbies and vices. Life inside the wire is so different. I just can't believe we are finally getting to just sit around. I think it's a plot for us to decompress. Hopefully, tomorrow we will have HETs, planes, and our BC.
15 March: Well, the lieutenant colonel made it through the whole hearing, but he won't see a brigade. He is pretty torn up about the whole ordeal. He has great plans for a book, which should prove interesting. The past few days have just confirmed our need to get out of here. Guys are starting to put the pounds back on, and we are having to deal with the other side ... the "three hot meals/never left the wire" type. We had a private first class female tell one of the platoon leaders that he needed to hurry up and eat so her friend could sit at the table. That didn't work out too well. Let's see,
girl who has been in theater for eight days versus table full of infantry officers with over eleven months. She tried to get mouthy with them but got
the entire rank structure explained to her in no uncertain terms from the position of attention. Very comical. All the equal opportunity representatives came over to our table to "defuse" the situation and protect everyone's "rights." We had a little discussion about following orders and respecting rank and experience. Eventually, they all saw the light, and I realized the difference between my FOB and the corps support area. I was pretty pissed about the whole thing but realized that the only solution for us is to leave ... and that's not just the LSA. Our squad leaders would have killed someone in there.
We are supposed to fly tomorrow. Good, because the Family Readiness Group is driving Kris crazy. I can't wait to take on that organization. I guess that tells you a little bit about our level of action. We have gone from the street fight to the domestic fight. Other than that, the days have consisted of reading, running, lifting, and eating. Between transit and sitting around talking, we spend about four hours on our two chow hall meals. We are doing a little ceremony for our interpreter, which will prove a significant emotional event. He loves us and wants to go to America. It is kinda nice having nothing to do but work out and BS. It really reminds me of Camp Buckner in the desert. A bunch of dudes sitting around watching planes fly with nothing to do but get anxious about going home.
Well, it happens at breakneck speed. We went over to the airfield in-processing site at 0400, got word our plane would land two hours early, and had to hustle through the whole Customs, Central Issue Facility, briefing line. A brigade plane got bumped, and they tried to hustle our flight, but we quickly shut that down. All the briefings went well and Customs was a breeze, except they had the Customs officials plant a bunch of 5.56-mm. rounds in my gear and make a big stink about it. It proved pretty funny when they finally told me it was a prank ... we even filled out some make-believe paperwork. Matt Cunningham totally got me on that one.
The plane landed and whisked us out of Balad. We held our breath for seven minutes-our estimation for the completion of the spiral-and then kicked back until Turkey. We had a ton of anxiety built up as to how long we would wait playing planes, trains, and automobiles. We got off the plane in Incirlik, Turkey, after waiting for a bus because of lightning. I thought it would prove a huge nut roll. They whisked us away, gave us a roast beef (but we were in Turkey) sandwich, and threw us on a civilian plane. We flew to Rhein-Main and then to Bangor, Maine. The Veterans of Foreign Wars and all the old-timers were out at the airport at midnight cheering for us all-what a wonderful community. They had pictures hanging up of all the dead as you got off the plane ... very sobering-I know way too many of them. After twenty hours of lounging in first class we landed at the Colorado Springs Jet Center. We got off the plane at 0400, walked through the "McDonalds" tent, and headed to the gym to turn in weapons and paperwork. Way too easy, and we beat half the guys that left before us back. The garrison sergeant major policed me up and told me about my responsibilities as the plane load commander for the ceremony; then we grabbed our bags. We walked into the emotionally charged events center listening to Toby Keith's "Angry American." It was a great goose-bumpy feeling seeing Kris for the first time in a year. The general said about two words, I dismissed the troops, and ten minutes later the events center was deserted.
We went through all the drama of the culture shock and reintegration. It's a lot easier stepping into the twenty-first century versus the eighteenth. I still freak out about trash on the side of the road and loud noises, but otherwise it's all going really well. Had a beer with the neighbors and found out that the intelligence chief we worked with in Samarra blew himself away
in Colorado Springs after a domestic flare-up ... yet another casualty of
the war.
"So was it all worth it?""I don't know ... I don't know what we gained-I only know what we lost."