An Infantryman's Tale: A Story of Love and Hate (Part 3 of 3)

In July of 2004 we started getting orders to go to a town south of our battalion's sector called Samara. This was a city about the same size as Tikrit that our sister battalion was in charge of keeping in order. They weren't doing such a good job. I don't think it was their fault. Samara has been a breeding ground for anti-American terrorist since the beginning, and it still is to this day. Most of our missions were just overnight missions, head up there on a Friday afternoon to hit some raids that night, and then come back to Tikrit the next day. But towards the end of July we started getting warned that a possible battalion size mission was coming. We were told at some point, we would head down to Samara with everyone for a huge take over. Month after month, after month, they kept telling us: "Stay ready, we're going to Samara." But it never happened. Finally in October, we were chillin out in front of one of the big satellite t.v.'s watching CNN and there it was, the reporter was talking about Samara. She said soldiers were getting ready for one of the biggest missions since the beginning of the war (this was before they went in and took Fallujah again). We looked at the T.V. with amazement thinking, that was supposed to be us, why haven't we heard of this? Right after thinking that, my Platoon Sgt walked in and said, "Guess what boys?" We just looked at him and said all at the same time, "yeah, yeah, we're going to Samara." He looked at us with a puzzled look and said, "How did you guys know?" We just pointed at CNN and said, "Everybody knows."

We rolled up to the main base outside of the city where thousands of troops were staging for one of the biggest battles since President Bush had declared an end to combat operations. The city had gotten so bad, that our sister battalion had lost total control of the place and hadn't even done a patrol in the city in weeks. We were nervous, but excited. We had been waiting for this moment since July. We were prepared and ready to go. For about a week, the loud speakers at the mosques declared to the people of Samara that the Americans were coming and if they didn't want to be apart of the fight to get out. So, we knew that anyone left on the streets were going to be there for us. Many families left the city, abandoning their homes in hopes of surviving somewhere else while the fight was taken to their home city.

The order came down, 2nd Platoon, Bushmasters (that was my platoon) would lead the way on the north side of the city around midnight that night. The scene was set, the fight was on. We rolled into Samara from the north side. Us dismounts could hear over the loud speaker what was going on as our platoon's Bradleys led the invasion. Our Platoon Leader's brad was up front and all we heard was the gunner, picking out targets on rooftops and running through the streets with guns and RPG's. He got over 10 confirmed kills just in the first 15 minutes of battle. We made it to our checkpoint where we were to establish a foothold and our Bradley's found themselves in a firefight with the bad guys right away. We dismounted and took over a house as our own little patrol base. My machine gun team consisted of myself, as the gunner, and my team leader as my ammo bearer and spotter, we took the roof as fast as we could and joined in on the fight. The bad guys found the Bradley's and our machine gun team's fire to be overwhelming, so they took over a house across the street as their own little patrol base. The fight lasted all the way into the morning. Sometimes, it was dead quiet, other times it was total choas. Our brads took turns firing, we even called in the tank platoon to help us out with the house. But the fire kept coming and the RPG's increased.....

As the fight increased it seemed like no matter what we threw at them, no matter how big of a hole we put in the side of the house they were in, they just wouldn't die. So, we called in the air force.

And then there were none.....total body count: 15 dead terrorist in the building. One gun shot wound to one of our ammo bearers.

When it all comes down to it, I don't hate the AF. They've saved my life more times then i can remember....i just wish the higher up's making the decisions wouldn't put guys who aren't trained to be on the ground out there where they don't belong....I mean, they wouldn't put an infantryman in a fighter plane, would they? Anywho, as Ziggy said in one of the comments, we do make a good team, us infantryman and the AF fighter planes. Happy 4th of July everyone.

An Infantryman's Tale: A story of Love and Hate (Part 2 of 3)

The Army has actually come a long way since my deployment in 2004. A lot of upgrades in armor and technology has made our chances on the battlefield a little bit better against an unknown enemy. But with all the upgrades and technology there is still room for human error. With that said, I'm still pissed off that the Air Force dudes who tried to kill me. Here's the story.

It was about 2200 at night (10 pm) and I was about to hit the rack, but as i was taking off my boots and about to lay down, we get a call to gear up. We were to head up north on the main highway towards Baji. Apparently a convoy had gotten hit by an IED and they wanted us to go check it out and make sure there weren't any secondary devices (since the unit that got hit, didn't take any serious damage and decided it would be best to run away then stick around and fight). We got in our hummers and drove the 30 minute ride up on Tampa North (that's what the main highway in Iraq is called). We get there and dismount and begin to take pictures and look around for any other IED's that might be ready to hit someone dumb enough to stop and check and see if there are any IED's still there....yeah....makes sense, huh.

Anywho, we did end up finding some mortar rounds that must of been apart of the original IED that hadn't gone off during the explosion on the convoy. So, we cordoned off both sides of Tampa, until we could wrap some det cord around them and blow them up with a little plastic explosives. That night I had the fun job of gunning on the slick. We were located on the Southbound lane of Tampa. Our other two hummers were across the way blocking off the Northbound lane. I noticed some headlights moving north, coming our way on the other side of Tampa. I radioed to my wing man on the other side that it looked like a convoy was coming our way. It's pretty easy to spot a military supply convoy at night in Iraq. It looks just like 100 pairs of headlights moving down the road. It's a wonder why they get attacked all the time....anyway, my counterparts on the northbound lane start using their flashlights to try to get the convoy to stop (we didn't want them running any of our guys over or possibly running over any unexploded mortar rounds we were about to blow). They didn't stop or even slow down. They kept coming at us. So my battle buddies on the other side started flashing their headlights and flashlights. We started flashing ours as well (if you've been in country long enough, you pretty much can tell the difference between a civilian car's headlights and a military Humvee headlights. They are way different) They didn't stop. They didn't slow down.

So, the gunner in the Humvee decides he'll shoot a warning shot with his machine gun in a 90 degree angle out in the middle of the desert, so they can see the red tracers and know that their are American soldiers up ahead and they need to stop. Now, I hope I'm making myself clear. He shot out in the middle of the desert. Away from the convoy. Ok, just want to make that clear.

The convoy saw the tracers. They finally stopped. And then their first and second trucks opened up on us with a 50 cal machine gun and a 240B machine gun. Now, i have to tell you, I've been shot at with a 7.62 bullet before, it's really no big deal. I kinda duck my head a little, get behind my gun and return fire. But when that 50 cal. opened up on us. I just froze. I had 50 cal. rounds flying every which way around me. To my left, to my right, up above me, hitting the ground in front of my AMERICAN HUMVEE. I froze. My first reaction was to return fire, but i knew these were American soldiers, who apparently were new to the whole, "we're supposed to shoot the bad guys, not the good guys" part of the job.

I remember my best friend Ceven Bauer being out in the middle of the highway. He had been sent out to take pictures of the blast hole. He was totally exposed when the firing began. I remember looking straight to him. He kind of just fell to the ground, almost as if he fainted (i don't think he did, i think he just hit the ground fast). I remember seeing all of the rounds landing what seemed to me only inches away from his lifeless body. At that point I stood back up and put the gunner of the first truck in my thermal scope sights. I was a split second away from pulling the trigger on MY 240B Machine gun, when my platoon Sgt radioed over to me on our Motorola to stay down and not return fire. After what seemed like forever, we started shooting star clusters in the air (basically it's like a big firework that is so bright, it's like the sun is out for a few seconds. The convoy finally stopped shooting at us. I ran out to Ceven, totally expecting to find my friend's body filled with holes like Swiss cheese. I got over there and Ceven rolled over on his own, looks up at me, and says "Dude, help me up so we can go kick those dude's asses." So I helped him up and joined the rest of my platoon, totally giving up all points of security as we ran over to the idiots who almost took all of our lives. Come to find out they were Air Force truck drivers escorting a supply convoy to Mosul. They claimed it was our fault because "we fired first." Well, after the realized we were going to pull them out of their vehicles, they pretty much just started driving forward and left the scene of the friendly fire. We stood in front of their trucks and had a good fight with them for a good ten minutes before our LT finally got a hold of all of us joes.

Now, I can't forget about my Platoon Sgt. During the shooting, he was on the radio calling the nearest base (which was an air force base by the way) to try and relay to someone to get this convoy to stop shooting at us. He told the girl on the other end, "We're pinned down, we're pinned down". All she heard through all the shooting in the background was, "We're ten down, we're ten down." So, "we're ten down" was relayed back to our company. Needless to say by the time the LT got us all back to where we were supposed to be, 2 Apache gun ships, 4 Bradley Fighting Vehicles, 4 tanks, and two fighter planes had made their way to our little one sided battle. All in all, it was kind of fun, looking back. Good fight at the end made us all feel better. Ceven wasn't dead, so that was good. All I can say, is yes, now i have a reason to hate the Air Force. My dad was Air Force for 24 years, so i never had a problem with them until that night. All i can really say, is thank God the air force doesn't spend as much time shooting as we do, because they managed to fire over 4,000 rounds at 4 humvee's and 32 men, and not hit a thing. Thank you Lord!

An Infantryman's Tale: A story of Love and Hate (Part 1 of 3)

Easter 2004 was a mess. Everywhere all over Iraq there were complex attacks on U.S. Forces. Baji was one of those places. We got the call in Tikrit at about 1800 that evening (that's 6 pm for you civi's) that the town of Baji was out of control. An ambush on a field artillery unit left many Americans dead in the streets and others were still being pinned down from sniper fire and RPG teams as the info came in. One soldier got his head blown off due to an RPG. They were still trying to get in there and reach the wounded and collect the dead. Now, i guess it should be noted that the field artillery wasn't really trained to do what they were being expected to do. "Close with and destroy the enemy" is an infantry tactic, not a F.A. tactic. So, the brigade commander decided to send in the Infantry.
It was about a 2 hour drive in our Bradley's to the center of the city where all of the action was taking place. I remember loading up in the back of the Bradley, making sure my stuff was tied down and my ammo was reachable for my machine gun and putting my night vision on my helmet. I remember being scared and I remember being pissed off. It had only been a few weeks since we had lost our commander to a huge ambush in Tikrit. I was ready to go get some payback for him, but at the same time I was nervous about losing another friend or even losing my own life. I had 2 hours to think about everything. I spent most of the time in prayer, asking God to be with everyone and bring us all back alive and well. I remember telling God that if He got me through that situation, I would promise not to waste my life, not to waste the opportunity I was asking Him for.
Then the Bradley stopped. Our Platoon Sgt came over the radio and told us the situation. The F.A. guys were able to get pulled out of the fatal hot spot. We were about to go back in. The ramp dropped and we all rushed out the back of the Brad and took cover behind a wall. An Apache Helicopter flew above us rushing into the hot zone to check it out. We heard the gun fire and the RPG's being launched toward him as he made his run down the line. We heard the gun ship return fire with hell fire missiles and heavy gun fire. Our platoon leader came up to us and told us to stay down against the wall. He was going to call in an air strike to see if that would put a dent in the enemy before we made our way in on foot. He got off the radio and told us, "2 minutes! Stay down!" Two minutes later, we heard the sound of one of the most beautiful things the military has in it's arsenal. A fighter jet was circling over and getting ready to drop one of their bombs on one of the houses the gunfire was coming from. It was like something out of a movie. It was loud, really loud. I remember the impact of the air hitting the other side of the wall we were on. I heard the Apache's go in again with there guns blazing and hell fire shooting, the still received a lot of gun fire, so the Air Force came back again. It was even louder. After the bomb dropped, everything went quiet. Our platoon leader gave us the go ahead to start walking. Again it was like something out of a movie. There were buildings on fire, rubble everywhere. We walked right in the middle of where the ambush took place with our Bradley's covering us from behind. We didn't see a soul move. We didn't hear anything stir. After a couple of hours of going through building after building we didn't find anyone alive. The Air Force had our backs that day. They got us out of a pretty heavy situation. And that's why i love the Air Force. No matter where the war is, our country needs two things. We need the Air Force to bomb the hell out of the place, and we need the Infantry to walk through it to make sure the bad guys are dead. My opinion is that we make a pretty good team...well, most of the time anyway....all except the time when they tried to kill us, but that's another story.

Great Weekend....

I ate some steak. I watched the new Sandler movie. I drank some beers. I bought some guns. I shot some guns. Enough said.

An Infantryman's Tale: "The Battle of Darth Vader Road"

I love a good firefight. The adrenaline is second to none. I never felt so alive, and never had so much fun, then the firefights that I've participated in. But never did i have so much fun then the firefight on the intersection of "Porche" and "Darth Vader Road" in Mosul Iraq in May of 2007.

The morning started out like a regular morning. I was put in charge of Bravo Section, since our normal section leader was home on his R&R leave, which basically means I was in charge of the four trucks that were going to be dropping off the dismounts, and then pulling outer cordon for our little company raid. For some reason I can't remember, all of our Staff Sgt's were gone for this mission, with the exception of SSG C, who was playing our Platoon SGT. Which basically put all the leadership decisions into the hands of us buck SGT's. Chuck was in charge of Alpha Section along with Lodo, who was going to be taking charge of the only Bradley we were taking out on this mission from our platoon. Now, everything went pretty normal, we dropped off our dismounts and i started coordinating where my section's trucks would pull security from while chuck did the same for his section and 3rd platoon did for their platoon. About ten minutes into the search, one of 3rd platoon's vehicles got fired upon with an RPG. The RPG explodes next to the truck but no one was hurt. Instead of returning fire, they kind of froze and took about ten minutes to move their truck behind a wall. I called over the radio and told our vehicles in 1st to keep their eyes open. About ten minutes later, my rear truck, receives an RPG from behind us. No one was hurt, thank God, because the RPG exploded right in front of the truck instead of hitting it. My boy Garrett was on the gun and did exactly what he was supposed to do and returned fire with his machine gun at the car that the bad guys were using. He reported that he hit the car with several shots but they drove away.
Being the superhero that i am, I decide to call chuck up and tell him that we're going to leave our position to fan around the perimeter and look for the car that Garrett had described. Lodo and chuck bring their vehicles along as i call to my Platoon SGT and tell him we're going to keep the cordon secure with a roving patrol. He agrees and goes back to whatever he was doing with the dismounts.
We found several cars that matched the description, and even with our lack of man power we dismounted and made the assessments. None of them were the right car. Chuck yells out to me that i'm kind of in an open position with no cover or concealment. That's when the shit hit the fan. We started receiving lots of gun fire and RPG's from a building across the way. It was like something out of a movie. I ran back to my truck, dodging bullets here and there and called in the rest of my trucks for support and told my gunner to start shooting that building. And with no hesitation he did exactly that. He had that 50 Cal. rockin. Lodo's Bradley pulled up next to us and started lighting the building up with 25MM and machine gun fire. The rest of 1st Platoon's trucks came after that and I directed them to get on line and start "talking to each other" (which basically means one truck fires a burst, then the next then the next, then start over again). The bad guys started this fight, but we sure as hell finished it. I had 6 trucks and 1 bradley rockin that building along with all of our dismounts on the rooftops above us launching everything they had into the building. Even the helicopters saw the fight from a few miles away and radioed in to us to ask if they could get a piece of the action. They started firing their hellfire missiles and rockin their guns into the building. It was basically just a huge firing squad on our part and that poor building definitely took it like a champ (it never did fall). After thirty minutes or so of trying to get everyone to stop shooting (cause once we would get them to stop, one shot would go off from God knows where and everyone would just start it up again), we finally maneuvered on the building and went in to see what remained of my would be assassins. All in all we found what remained of 8 terrorist (It was a bloody mess). We found their car out back, the same one Garrett had shot up earlier. I guess they were hoping we would go looking around for their car and shoot us while we were out of our trucks on foot. I guess it's a good thing they can't shoot as well as we can. Anywho, it was a fun day. I wasted all my ammo on my person (about 400 rounds). My gunner used all his rounds (1000 rounds of 50 Cal.). The bradley went black on ammo shooting over 250 High Explosive rounds into the building. And just about all of our dismounts were either empty on ammo or close to it. I believe the final count was somewhere over 50,000 rounds fired at the bad guys. Some may say that's overkill, but I say it was a lot of fun. I remember my hands couldn't stop shaking from the excitement of the fight for several hours. After all the clean up our whole platoon went back to the dining facility and had a huge meal together recalling the whole ordeal, and watching the support people's faces of shock (who never leave the base) when we talked very loudly about our day. It was fun. One of the best days of my life. I got to do what I've always wanted to do: lead men into combat. Not a lot of people in this world can say that, and I'm telling you, there is nothing like it.

Reality TV

Honestly, I've never been a huge fan of "Reality Television". With the exception of "The Ultimate Fighter" and "The Mole" from back in the day I never really got into any of it. Ultimate Fighter is just an awesome show cause it's the UFC, nothing on TV is better then what the UFC brings. I hear they are bringing back "The Mole" as well, so I am looking forward to that. But i have to say this, one of my buddies told me to watch a show not too long ago. He said, "Dude, I think you might like it. It's got athletes, actors, and scantily clad women!" I said, "Bud, i used to watch Pro Wrestling, i'm not really into it anymore." He said, "No, dude. Don't tell anyone, but i'm talking about Dancing with the Stars." I got to admit, i was hesitant at first. But i found myself bored sitting at home with nothing to do after i had my wisdom teeth taken out. So i went to ABC.com and started watching Dancing with the Stars from the first episode. And i'm telling you, it was good, I was hooked. I mean, seriously: Hot chicks with clothes the show off the six pack abs and nice boobies, dancin some sexy ass dances with a football legend like Jason Taylor. It was a good show. I watched the whole season in a matter of days. Now, before someone reads this and gets all pissed off about the boobie comment, I have to say I find myself wanting to go with my buddy Ski to the dance class he goes to and learn how to Salsa or do the foxtrot. I think it would be really cool to learn how to ballroom dance, not for the hot chicks, but just because it looks like so much fun. Now that would be a sight to see, huh. My big, dumb, no rhythm ass out there tryin to do the jive. Sounds like fun. Where do I sign up?

An Infantryman's Tale: What is this, Oklahoma, you speak about?

Iraqi soldier: "Mister, Mister...how, are you?"
Nate: "I'm doing alright, bud. How are you today?"
Iraqi soldier: "Do you have MRE?"
Nate: "Yeah, i got an MRE for ya. Here you go." Throws him a Meal Ready to Eat (for those who might not know). "It's a pretty good one bro, got a lot of Pork in there for ya."
Iraqi: "Oh, mister, I can not take then."
Nate: "I'm just messin with ya dude. It's chicken, I promise."
Iraqi: "OHHHH!!! You funny man, Mister. Do you have water? My name is Muhammad. Your name is?"
Nate: "Yeah, here's some water for you dude. My name is Bob."
Iraqi: "OH, Bob! Like Bobby Brown!"
Nate: "Well, not quite like Bobby Brown, dude."
Iraqi: "Where you from?"
Nate: "America."
Iraqi: "HAHAHA, you funny man, mister Bob. Where in America?"
Nate: "Oklahoma."
Iraqi: "Where is this Oklahoma? I thought you from United States?"
Nate: "Yeah, it is in the states dude. It's one of the States."
Iraqi: "So, you from United States?"
Nate: "Yeaaaaah."
Iraqi: "You from New York City?!"
Nate: "No, Oklahoma."
Iraqi: "Is that in California?"
Nate: "No, Oklahoma is in Oklahoma. You know like: OOOOOOklahoma, where the wind comes sweepin down the plain!" (As i attempt to sing).
Iraqi: "You funny man, mister Bob! Is this Oklahoma in Florida?"
Nate: "Dude, seriously. Oklahoma is one of the 50 states. It's not in Florida, not in California, not in New York. It's just Oklahoma."
Iraqi: "Is it near New York City?"
Nate: "No bro...it's near Texas. Right above Texas."
Iraqi: "AHHHHHH....TEXAS! It is in TEXAS, YES!"
Nate: "No dude. It is not in Texas. I HATE TEXAS!

I don't know how many times I had this same conversation with God knows how many Iraqi soldiers, interpreters, or Iraqi kids. No one has heard of Oklahoma. It's so sad.