Sunday, December 18, 2011
Iraq War Comes to a Close
Nearly 9 years after it began, Operation Iraqi Freedom, also known as the Second Gulf War, OIF, Operation New Dawn, and to those who survived it, a host of other appelations such as The Suck or The 'Raq. Official totals for OIF/OND stand at 4,478 KIA, 30,000+ WIA on the US side, and on the Iraqi side, an untold number of killed and wounded. Those who opposed the war cite the large numbers of civilian Iraqis killed. As a soldier, innocent civilian casualties are heartbreaking and appalling. However, one must remember that many of those "civilian" casualties were shooting at us with all the determination of a uniformed enemy. In some cases, those "civilians" were more determined to kill us than the actual Iraqi Army. But I digress...
I remember where I was when the war started and we "went over the berm". I was stationed in Vogelweh, Germany and was working the night shift at the US Forces Police Station with members of the 569th USFPS, US Airforce, and the 230th MP Company, US Army. It seemed we all stared at that TV screen searching for a familiar face. Many of us had friends who were there for the invasion, and for those of us who weren't, it was a heart-wrenching experience. We had trained out entire careers for this moment, and we were about to miss it. None of us could have imagined that the war would drag on for another 9 years. It was shortly after the ground war began that we began performing escorts from Ramstein Airbase to Landstuhl Regional Medical Center. The stream of wounded and dead that came from the the flightline brought the grim realities of war to those of us "in the rear". As the war churned on, I was approached on day by my Operations Sergeant who informed me that I was to report to Landstuhl Hospital and provide security for PFC Jessica Lynch as she was brought in from Iraq. I witnessed the throngs of reporters all trying to get a photo of that soldier lying on a gurney to send back to the States and onto the front page of newspapers across America. I saw the fear in her eyes, and the relief on her face to be surrounded by Americans doing what the could to get her healthy and back home to her family. I watched the parade of officers and VIPs stream into her room to wish her a speedy recovery and offer some words of encouragement. I walked down the hall into the ward with the other wounded soldiers and saw the horrors of war with my own eyes. I shook hands with PFC Lynch's father when he arrived to see his daughter for the first time since she left the US. I saw the apprehension carved into his face, but saw it softened by the knowledge that she had made it back alive. In 2004, I rotated back to the United States and was assigned to the 4th MP Company, 4th Infantry Division at Ft. Hood, Tx. After a series of unit "redesignations" I finally began to train for an upcoming deployment. My squad studied and practiced tactics, techniques, and procedures (TTPs) and refreshed themselves on first aid and started practicing basic commands in Arabic. On February 7th, 2005, a full month after I said my vows to my wife, I was informed that I had been "selected" to deploy with a different unit, from a different post, and that I would be leaving in less than 3 weeks. I picked one of my best soldiers to accompany me, and then faced the overwhelming task of telling my new wife and family that I would be leaving them and going off to war.
March 1st, 2005 found me at Ft. Carson, CO "on loan" to the 89th Chemcial Company, 3d Armored Cavalry Regiment. My soldier, then Specialist Kenneth Compton (known affectionately as Campy) went through a whirlwind medical screening and equipment draw. We were told we would be working in the Regimental Detention Holding Area (RDHA). Later that week, I would be breathing hot Kuwaiti air for the first time since August 20, 1998 when I returned from a 3 month rotation on the Kuwait/Iraq border. For the better part of a month, we drew more equipment, attended inumerable briefings, and prepared ourselves for the impending trip north. During a recon to the Kuwait/Iraq crossing known as Navstar, I caught a glimpse of Iraq in the fading sunlight. I have to say, I was not impressed. Finally, we were told to move into Iraq.
I volunteered to be a gunner one of the first trucks in our serial. I figured I should go ahead of Campy, "just in case". In case of what, I didn't know, but I figured it had to be horrible. CNN, Fox News, and the entire gambit of news outlets had me convinced that an IED (roadside bomb) was waiting for me every 10 ft. Mistake number one, believing the media. We prepared to depart from Navstar, Kuwait and I offered up a prayer with the others in my truck, Psalm 18:34-42. With the LT's (Lieutenant) final words ringing in my ears, "Keep your eyes open Gib", I couldn't help wonder what the hell I was supposed to be looking for in the middle of the night flying up the highway in a country that so far, was nothing but sand and trash. I would find out soon enough though.
We arrived in Baghdad at one of the numerous camps that surrounded Baghdad International Airport (BIAP). I assisted the other members of the 89th Chem Co in setting up a temporary detention facility in an abandoned building complex. I would never see it used however, as Campy and I were assigned to the Regimental HQ where we worked in the ISF Cell (Iraqi Security Forces). The ISF cell was an adhoc group consisting of 1 Captain, 1 1st Lieutenant, myself, and Campy. Our task was to track and report the status of all Iraqi Security Forces in our AO (area of operations). I was assigned the arduous task of tracking and liasing with the 2/4/6th IAD (2nd Battalion, 4th Brigade, 6th Division, Iraqi Army) stationed south of Baghdad in Mahmudiyah, right in the middle of the notorious "Triangle of Death". A short time later, the ISF Cell was broken in half when the 3d ACR moved north to a town called Tal Afar. The Captain and Campy moved north while the LT and I stayed in Baghdad. Shortly after this split, I was told to analyze and coordinate the 2/4/6 IAD into 2 seperate operations in a larger campaign known as the "Isolation of the Fiyahs" (so named after the three towns in the Triangle that ended with 'fiyah; Mahmudiyah, Lutifiyah, and Latifiyah). The operations met some success, and "my" IAD performed as good as expected. After the Isolation campaign, the LT was informed he would be leading a MiTT (Military Transistion Team) to Mahmudiyah to live with and train the 2/4/6 IAD. After scrounging a medic and three mechanics we departed the relative comfort of BIAP and headed south to FOB St. Michael, just outside of Mahmudiyah where we linked up with our host US Unit, 2/70th Armored, 1st Armored Division, known as the Aces of Death. The Aces took splendid care of us while we were with them and always accomodated our wacky schedule and odd-ball hours. During a sweep of Mahmudiyah, I saw, firsthand, how the IAD worked with minimal American involvement. It wasn't what I had hoped for. During this period, I learned a few things. One, I don't like incoming mortar fire. Two, I LOVE outgoing artillery fire. Three, the AK-47 really DOES make a distinctive sound when fired at you (Heartbreak Ridge). Four, Iraqis will shoot at anything that moves and the safest place to be when they do this is somewhere else. Five, dysentary is hilarious when your buddy has it, but is anything but when it hits you. Six, I didn't really care for Iraq.
Then came the word that we would follow the rest of the Regiment north to Tal Afar. I would arrive in time to see the full brunt of American military might come crashing down on the Al Zarqawi Network of Al Quaeda in the Tal Afar/Mosul area. But that is another story for another time......
Nearly 9 years after it began, Operation Iraqi Freedom, also known as the Second Gulf War, OIF, Operation New Dawn, and to those who survived it, a host of other appelations such as The Suck or The 'Raq. Official totals for OIF/OND stand at 4,478 KIA, 30,000+ WIA on the US side, and on the Iraqi side, an untold number of killed and wounded. Those who opposed the war cite the large numbers of civilian Iraqis killed. As a soldier, innocent civilian casualties are heartbreaking and appalling. However, one must remember that many of those "civilian" casualties were shooting at us with all the determination of a uniformed enemy. In some cases, those "civilians" were more determined to kill us than the actual Iraqi Army. But I digress...
I remember where I was when the war started and we "went over the berm". I was stationed in Vogelweh, Germany and was working the night shift at the US Forces Police Station with members of the 569th USFPS, US Airforce, and the 230th MP Company, US Army. It seemed we all stared at that TV screen searching for a familiar face. Many of us had friends who were there for the invasion, and for those of us who weren't, it was a heart-wrenching experience. We had trained out entire careers for this moment, and we were about to miss it. None of us could have imagined that the war would drag on for another 9 years. It was shortly after the ground war began that we began performing escorts from Ramstein Airbase to Landstuhl Regional Medical Center. The stream of wounded and dead that came from the the flightline brought the grim realities of war to those of us "in the rear". As the war churned on, I was approached on day by my Operations Sergeant who informed me that I was to report to Landstuhl Hospital and provide security for PFC Jessica Lynch as she was brought in from Iraq. I witnessed the throngs of reporters all trying to get a photo of that soldier lying on a gurney to send back to the States and onto the front page of newspapers across America. I saw the fear in her eyes, and the relief on her face to be surrounded by Americans doing what the could to get her healthy and back home to her family. I watched the parade of officers and VIPs stream into her room to wish her a speedy recovery and offer some words of encouragement. I walked down the hall into the ward with the other wounded soldiers and saw the horrors of war with my own eyes. I shook hands with PFC Lynch's father when he arrived to see his daughter for the first time since she left the US. I saw the apprehension carved into his face, but saw it softened by the knowledge that she had made it back alive. In 2004, I rotated back to the United States and was assigned to the 4th MP Company, 4th Infantry Division at Ft. Hood, Tx. After a series of unit "redesignations" I finally began to train for an upcoming deployment. My squad studied and practiced tactics, techniques, and procedures (TTPs) and refreshed themselves on first aid and started practicing basic commands in Arabic. On February 7th, 2005, a full month after I said my vows to my wife, I was informed that I had been "selected" to deploy with a different unit, from a different post, and that I would be leaving in less than 3 weeks. I picked one of my best soldiers to accompany me, and then faced the overwhelming task of telling my new wife and family that I would be leaving them and going off to war.
March 1st, 2005 found me at Ft. Carson, CO "on loan" to the 89th Chemcial Company, 3d Armored Cavalry Regiment. My soldier, then Specialist Kenneth Compton (known affectionately as Campy) went through a whirlwind medical screening and equipment draw. We were told we would be working in the Regimental Detention Holding Area (RDHA). Later that week, I would be breathing hot Kuwaiti air for the first time since August 20, 1998 when I returned from a 3 month rotation on the Kuwait/Iraq border. For the better part of a month, we drew more equipment, attended inumerable briefings, and prepared ourselves for the impending trip north. During a recon to the Kuwait/Iraq crossing known as Navstar, I caught a glimpse of Iraq in the fading sunlight. I have to say, I was not impressed. Finally, we were told to move into Iraq.
I volunteered to be a gunner one of the first trucks in our serial. I figured I should go ahead of Campy, "just in case". In case of what, I didn't know, but I figured it had to be horrible. CNN, Fox News, and the entire gambit of news outlets had me convinced that an IED (roadside bomb) was waiting for me every 10 ft. Mistake number one, believing the media. We prepared to depart from Navstar, Kuwait and I offered up a prayer with the others in my truck, Psalm 18:34-42. With the LT's (Lieutenant) final words ringing in my ears, "Keep your eyes open Gib", I couldn't help wonder what the hell I was supposed to be looking for in the middle of the night flying up the highway in a country that so far, was nothing but sand and trash. I would find out soon enough though.
We arrived in Baghdad at one of the numerous camps that surrounded Baghdad International Airport (BIAP). I assisted the other members of the 89th Chem Co in setting up a temporary detention facility in an abandoned building complex. I would never see it used however, as Campy and I were assigned to the Regimental HQ where we worked in the ISF Cell (Iraqi Security Forces). The ISF cell was an adhoc group consisting of 1 Captain, 1 1st Lieutenant, myself, and Campy. Our task was to track and report the status of all Iraqi Security Forces in our AO (area of operations). I was assigned the arduous task of tracking and liasing with the 2/4/6th IAD (2nd Battalion, 4th Brigade, 6th Division, Iraqi Army) stationed south of Baghdad in Mahmudiyah, right in the middle of the notorious "Triangle of Death". A short time later, the ISF Cell was broken in half when the 3d ACR moved north to a town called Tal Afar. The Captain and Campy moved north while the LT and I stayed in Baghdad. Shortly after this split, I was told to analyze and coordinate the 2/4/6 IAD into 2 seperate operations in a larger campaign known as the "Isolation of the Fiyahs" (so named after the three towns in the Triangle that ended with 'fiyah; Mahmudiyah, Lutifiyah, and Latifiyah). The operations met some success, and "my" IAD performed as good as expected. After the Isolation campaign, the LT was informed he would be leading a MiTT (Military Transistion Team) to Mahmudiyah to live with and train the 2/4/6 IAD. After scrounging a medic and three mechanics we departed the relative comfort of BIAP and headed south to FOB St. Michael, just outside of Mahmudiyah where we linked up with our host US Unit, 2/70th Armored, 1st Armored Division, known as the Aces of Death. The Aces took splendid care of us while we were with them and always accomodated our wacky schedule and odd-ball hours. During a sweep of Mahmudiyah, I saw, firsthand, how the IAD worked with minimal American involvement. It wasn't what I had hoped for. During this period, I learned a few things. One, I don't like incoming mortar fire. Two, I LOVE outgoing artillery fire. Three, the AK-47 really DOES make a distinctive sound when fired at you (Heartbreak Ridge). Four, Iraqis will shoot at anything that moves and the safest place to be when they do this is somewhere else. Five, dysentary is hilarious when your buddy has it, but is anything but when it hits you. Six, I didn't really care for Iraq.
Then came the word that we would follow the rest of the Regiment north to Tal Afar. I would arrive in time to see the full brunt of American military might come crashing down on the Al Zarqawi Network of Al Quaeda in the Tal Afar/Mosul area. But that is another story for another time......
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