I sat up straight in my chair. In my two and a half years as an officer of Marines, I had never been briefed on the actual elements that made up the insurgency. My perspective of Iraq had, to this point, been shaped by CNN, Internet surfing, some books I had read, and exaggerated war stories.
The reason for what I would call this lack of situational awareness is twofold. First, any report coming from the front is considered sensitive and therefore classified as “secret.” On many occasions, it seems as if the words al Qaeda are all that is required to qualify a document for being “secret.” This by itself is not the problem. Access to the secret network, Secret Internet Protocol Router (SIPR), is where issues arise. At Camp Pendleton, there is only one SIPR computer per battalion. It is always being used by the battalion commander, the intelligence section, and the rest of the staff. I had never even heard of SIPR until I arrived in Iraq and signed up for an account.
The second issue in training for the Iraq insurgency is the Corps’s focus on maintaining its readiness to fight a Soviet-style war. During basic officer training, which lasted more than a year, I focused on learning how to counter the Russian art of war. This was during 2004, when Iraq’s multifaceted insurgency was already under way. It was not until I left this schoolhouse environment that any thought of fighting a guerrilla force was seriously considered. Even then, the notion was that if you could assault an entrenched enemy position, you could handle a few Iraqis in black pajamas. We always discussed “knowing your enemy,” but it never included anything more than pictures of an improvised explosive device (IED) attack. Tactical lessons from the War on Terror were not making it into the military’s basic curriculum.
Captain James’s brief began. “The original composition of the insurgency in the greater Ramadi area consisted of groups like 1920s Revolutionary Brigade, a national insurgent group characterized as Ba’athist. Within the Ramadi area, you will fight the Abdallah Ibn Al -Mubarak Brigade of this group, made up of former Fedayeen and Republican Guard officers.” The screen displayed the titles of 1920s units and their locations. Next to Baghdad was Sa’d Ibn-Abi-Waqas Brigade, and the list continued with Fallujah, Haditha, and Haqlaniyah.
“Early in 2004, a shift occurred in the greater resistance movement. With the arrival of foreigners such as Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, the insurgent ideology became more Islamist in nature. This led to the birth of Al Qaeda in Iraq [AQI], and Zarqawi formed the Jama’at al-Tawhid wal-Jihad group [JTJ] to funnel average Iraqis into the organization’s ranks. As the nationalist and Islamist groups originally had a mutually supporting role, their differences came to a head in January 2006 as Zarqawi attempted to force the numerous factions under the leadership of AQI. The result was a power struggle, with some nationalist groups choosing to follow Zarqawi and the newly created Mujahedeen Shura Council [MSC], but the majority of the nationalists opted out of this insurgent alliance. Most of these Ba’athists disagreed with AQI’s horrific tactics against civilians and Shia, and this difference formed the basis of their resistance to joining AQI.”
I began to think about just how powerful AQI must be in order to openly fight not only the coalition but other insurgents as well. The captain went to the next slide, showing Zarqawi’s bloodied face, along with the circumstances of his death. “As you all know,” Captain James said, “Abu Musab al-Zarqawi was killed by a U.S. air strike in June of this year. The death of this charismatic leader has emboldened the leaders of the Anbar tribes to question al Qaeda’s authority to lead the insurgency, as evidenced by the creation of the Anbar Awakening movement, which has both a military and a political wing. Both elements of this Awakening movement are showing signs they may be willing to work with, not against, coalition forces.” The Floridian went to the next slide, which showed the tribal breakdown of the brigade area of operations (AO). Friendly tribes were in green, while opposing ones were in red. There was twice as much red as green on the map.
“However, in September of this year al Qaeda and the military wing of the Awakening council, Thawar Al Anbar, fought each other in the streets of Ramadi. Thawar Al Anbar was initially successful, assassinating dozens of AQI terrorists while they prayed at a local mosque. However, we believe al Qaeda eventually solidified its control over the city. Those who would not join the newly formed al Qaeda caliphate, the Islamic State of Iraq (which would be the nation governed by the Mujahedeen Shura Council), were killed in dramatic fashion. They murdered doctors who worked at Ramadi General Hospital, Internet café owners with U.S. Web sites or e-mails to the United States were beheaded, and a flyer was posted at Al Anbar University with the names of the staff who had been targeted for assassination.”
Captain James proceeded to the next slide, showing what I thought was a parade. “These events climaxed with the insurgent parade on October 18, where Ramadi was officially declared the capital of the Islamic State of Iraq. The parade was held here, in the mostly abandoned commercial district of the city referred to as Qatana.”
No wonder the Iraqi I met the day before had said Qatana and Irhabi. The local populace had clearly heard about the parade. I stared at the PowerPoint slide and its detailed digital map with a new sense of purpose. This was the capital of the Sunni insurgency. Some of the buildings on the map were labeled “legal court of ISI” and “executive building of ISI.” The executive building had been leveled by an air strike or some other type of combined arms attack.
The captain continued, describing how the insurgents lived in the Qatana and Mila’ab sectors of the city and moved during the day to the Second Officers and Al Andaloos districts to execute attacks. The following slide provided details and specific numbers of attacks for the month of October. The totals were staggering. From October 8 to October 14, coalition forces in Ramadi endured nineteen IED attacks, fifty-one small-arms fire attacks, twelve indirect fire attacks, twelve rocket-propelled grenade attacks, two hand grenade attacks, and two suicide vehicle-borne IED attacks, and found sixteen other IEDs. As the captain continued to describe subsequent weeks in his brief, the numbers only got worse. Ramadi was clearly the ultimate getaway during the fall season. With some of the Marines squirming in their chairs, Captain James gave us a ten-minute break.
I walked out to the smoke pit between the brigade Tactical Operations Center (TOC) and the headquarters building where the brief was being conducted. Lieutenant Thomas was smoking with the other platoon commanders and a few of the squad leaders. He offered me a smoke. Because I was a former runner, he knew what my answer would be.
“No, thanks,” I said. “I appreciate my lungs and look forward to their good health for many years to come.”
Rage 1, Lieutenant Cullen Shearburn, gave me a joking look of disgust. “Daly, there you go, thinking you’re better than everyone else again.” He placed his hand in between the second and third buttons of his blouse and imitated me turning down the smoke. While we had been sailing to Kuwait, Lieutenant Shearburn usually referred to me as “the Baron.” It was an ironic nickname coming from him. He was by far the most pompous officer of the company. The Marines of Rage 1 loved him for it.
The group continued to smoke and joke until our ten minutes had elapsed. None of us dared to address the apprehension that was visible on our faces. We headed back into the building, and Corporal Holloway caught up to me, clearly wanting to say something.
“Sir, I saw you turn down Lieutenant Thomas when he offered you a cigarette.”
I was kind of caught off guard by the seriousness of his voice. “Yeah?” I said.
“Well, I noticed you turned him down before Heidbreder got shot, too, but before we left on our night-patrol you smoked one with the lieutenant and nothing happened to us.” Holloway was speaking quietly so no one else could hear his crazy implications.
“Look, Holloway, I don’t believe in that crap,” I said, pulling a quote from John Milton on him. “Luck is the residue of design.”
His response was instantaneous. He had clearly planned it. “Then why do you ne
ver take that Saint Christopher medal off from around your neck? I know it rubs like hell every time you wear your flak.”
I laughed and walked back into the conference room with the corporal, ignoring his pleas. Making myself comfortable in my executive-style chair, I noticed Holloway moving two fingers up to his mouth in an attempt to look like the Marlboro man. I shook my head.
Captain James pressed on. “Before I turn it back over to Major Mayberry, I would like to mention a few of the prominent insurgent personalities active in the area. The first is Mullah Qahttan.” A picture of a thirty-year-old man popped up on the screen. “We believe that the former leader of JTJ in Ramadi has recently been promoted to an emir within AQI to coordinate efforts between Fallujah and Ramadi. His family is from southern Ramadi and his brother, Uthman, runs a large cell of fighters in their familial area, the Second Officers District.” I analyzed the picture, noticing no visible characteristics of this man’s truly horrific nature. Captain James continued, “Mullah Qahttan epitomizes the brutality of AQI. He has used an eleven-year-old Yemeni boy as a suicide bomber and a twelve-year-old to detonate five IEDs within the city, and he personally issues the orders and conducts the beheadings of local nationals for a multitude of ‘crimes.’ To capture the context of these crimes: his men abduct the children of the tribes associated with the Awakening and return their heads to their families in baskets.”
As Captain James moved to the next slide, one of the Marines opened his mouth and said, “Sounds like an awesome dude . . .”
Again the screen showed another thirty-something Iraqi male. “Thamir Hamad Nahar is the man we believe replaced Mullah Qahttan as the head of JTJ within Ramadi. His credentials are much like those of his predecessor, and his family is also from the southern side of the city, in the insurgent safe haven of the Mila’ab. He has gained authority as a renowned explosives expert by building IEDs and coordinating mortar attacks. The leader of his own small insurgent group that coalesced with AQI, he has proved capable of facilitating the movement of foreign fighters into the AO and has used multiple local businesses to finance his campaigns. His merits have earned him a position as one of Zarqawi’s lieutenants, and he now works directly for Mullah Qahttan. Thamir is known to travel with an estimated twenty-man security detail and frequents numerous AQI safe houses in the southern Ramadi area.”
There were a few more slides showing insurgent tactics and techniques with IEDs or ambushes within the area of operations (AO). Then the captain looked at Major Mayberry and said, “Sir, I turn it back over to you.”
A slide, blank except for the words OPERATION SQUEEZE PLAY, came onto the screen.
We all sat there, intently anticipating every word the major would utter. For two weeks, we had wondered how and where Rage Company would be employed. We all wanted to know where we were going, what kinds of missions we would execute, and, more specifically, how the insurgency was succeeding in Ramadi. We pored over any intel material we could find, wasting entire afternoons as we downloaded maps and briefs on the incredibly slow secure network onboard the USS Dubuque. Now we were finally seeing the details.
“Gentlemen,” the major said, “this is a three-phase operation. The first will send you to southern Ramadi, where you will be attached to 1-37 Armor, the Bandits.” The slide shown on the projector contained imagery of 1-37’s entire AO. “The concept of operations for this phase is shown on the map. As you can see, each mission has its own color.” Different sectors of the AO were highlighted, forming a backward L in the center of the city. “The intent here is to clear these areas, where coalition forces have not had a presence, in some cases, in over a year. As you can see from the backward L formed here [the major circled the area with a laser pointer], the intent is to push the enemy east and north to the center of the city.” He proceeded to the next slide, glancing at his pipe and pausing to breathe in the aroma wafting from the pouch of tobacco next to it.
“The next phase will place you under operational control of 1st Battalion, 6th Marines. The intent during this phase is to clear the centrally located commercial sector of the city, the Qatana District.” Every Marine had heard of this portion of the city; it was the most notorious and easiest to find information on when we surfed the secure network back on ship. Insurgent snipers in Qatana were extremely effective. Rumors of Chechens and other foreign fighters living in the district’s abandoned structures made it our number one target.
“The desired end state is that we force the enemy to consolidate in the southeastern portion of the city, the Mila’ab District.” Major Mayberry proceeded to the next slide, a view of the entire city, and circled the Mila’ab with his laser pointer. “We know the insurgent fighter will come and go as he pleases, so our success lies in finding his safe havens, his caches. If we have success finding these tactical caches of weapons, the insurgents will use the Mila’ab to regroup. This leads us to the final phase of the operation. Once we feel that the insurgents have consolidated, we will cordon off the entire Mila’ab—in most parts, literally making a wall out of concrete barriers and then conducting a thorough clear of the district.”
The vision of intense urban combat and the idea of an assault on the scale of Fallujah from 2004 flashed through my mind. I am sure all of us in the room must have been thinking the same thing.
The major quickly demolished our dreams of an all-out kinetic assault. “However, your part in this third phase is not in the Mila’ab. We will be sending you east of the city to the rural suburbs of Sofia and Julayba. Here you will be confronted by the core of the AQI movement. We have long suspected the region of being the command and control center for both Ramadi and Fallujah, due to its geographic location between the cities. There has never been a permanent coalition presence here either. In the early summer of ’06, a large contingent of AQI leaders fled Ramadi to this area. Your mission will be to prevent them from using this region as a safe haven while we take down the Mila’ab.”
After another ten minutes of briefing, Major Mayberry proceeded to solicit questions from his audience, while occasionally glancing at his pipe. With no questions forthcoming, a short, stout lieutenant colonel stood up in the back of the room. He was probably five feet, four inches tall. With an outstretched arm, Major Mayberry gave the colonel the floor, which he wasted no time in taking. “Marines, I am Lieutenant Colonel V. J. Tedesco, Commanding Officer First Battalion, Thirty-seventh Armor, and as of now, you aren’t Marines, you are Bandits!”
As quickly as he had taken the floor, he walked out of the room. The younger Marines took his comment as an insult, priding themselves on the title “Marine,” but I knew what the lieutenant colonel meant: he would take care of us as if we were his own soldiers. I looked at the other lieutenants in Rage Company. We were nervous. The mission was on a scale beyond the likes of anything we had imagined. None of the officers had been to Ramadi before, but the Marines in the company who had, had plenty of experience on some of these streets and alleyways. Each experience usually had a casualty to go along with it. As I glanced over at Rage 4, Lieutenant Andrew Grubb, our eyes met. He winked and blew me a kiss.
We filed out of the room and made our way to the rest of the day’s briefs. Rules of engagement (ROE), detainee processing, and mission planning for Operation Harrison Creek I filled the day. With the sun setting, we broke for chow. Immediately after this, I held a preparatory meeting for the intelligence cell. I directed both of my scouts, lance corporals Joash Albin and Benjamin Eakin, to memorize the street names and the patrol sectors of southern Ramadi. We pored over every piece of reporting on the area. Names of cell leaders, distinguishing scars, locations of previous attacks, and an aerial view of the district repeatedly flashed in our minds. When Heidbreder was shot, we had all felt unprepared. Now we were making up for it.
With only about twenty hours until the mission, we were still producing strip maps for the platoons. Each squad leader would receive a specific map of the patrol sectors he would be clearing, as well as thr
ee-dimensional photos of the target buildings within his respective objective area. The photos had been taken by an aircraft the night before, courtesy of some special operations types. The materials, along with a list of potential insurgents to be found on the objective, would be distributed at that night’s mission brief and rehearsal. We were going to end the day in true Marine Corps fashion, with the longest brief.
I was blindsided when Captain Smith, Rage 6, approached me before the mission brief and told me I would not be leaving the wire. He explained that he anticipated taking around twenty detainees and that I would be focused on their processing, rather than on the act of detention. I expressed my desire to execute the raid but was overruled. The captain was concerned with our knowledge of the proper administrative and questioning procedures. Based on our previous class regarding detainee processing, it would be an enormous task.
Each detainee would have a total of fourteen pages filled out on him. These individual packages contained sworn statements by coalition members, diagrams of the location of the detention site, a brief medical exam, and forms to accompany evidence and document the level of force used during detention, as well as personal information. If a detainee’s paperwork was not in order, the regional detention facility would not prosecute the individual. Unfortunately, such events occurred on an almost daily basis and were an embarrassment to the unit that submitted the detainee. To highlight this fact, both Mullah Qahttan and Thamir had been detained earlier, and each had a photo of him in an orange jumpsuit on his briefing slide. In fact, it seemed like being detained by the Americans was necessary to be promoted within AQI. This was democracy at war.
I sat down for the mission brief with a bitter taste in my mouth. I hadn’t become a Marine to do paperwork.
Rage Company Page 4
