by David Hearne
On the morning of March 30, Senator Laforge was listening to the English version of Radio Baghdad with Paul and Bakr. The Iraqi Information Minister al-Sahaf started the news with an important announcement. He reported that the Iraqi Revolutionary Command Council had made an important announcement that he would report on after he gave an overview of the status of the war. Baghdad Bob, as he was known to the troops started his overview of the war, “Americans are now in disarray. They are again in the dirt in the desert. They will try to enter Baghdad, and I think this is where their graveyard will be. Their objective is to get to the outskirts of Baghdad. So be it. We will see how the issue will turn out when they come to Baghdad. We are determined to defeat them and destroy them on the walls of our capital, as we are determined to destroy their miserable armies in every Muslim spot. Iraq will spread them even more and chop them up. The Iraqi troops and the Iraqi fighters are in control of all the places, as we have witnessed. They are retreating on all fronts. Their military effort is a subject of laughter throughout the world. No big change in that. The imperialist invading U.S. and British forces are like a snake that slithers all over the place, but that doesn’t control anything.” Then Baghdad Bob paused for a moment and informed his audience that he would now give important news from the Revolutionary Command Council, “A bounty of one million American dollars will be paid to any fighters or heroic sons of the Iraqi tribes who successfully captures or executes the American Senator Katherine Laforge. She has been found guilty of being a spy for the Americans and Israelis and of blasphemous statements against Islam. Katherine winced at this. Paul said, “This death sentence will probably help you in the polls as long as it goes no further than rhetoric. Just about anything Al-Sahaf says is bullshit. Like his statement, “They are trapped in Umm Qasr. They are trapped near Basra. They are trapped near Nasiriyah. They are trapped near Najaf. They are trapped everywhere.” Paul laughed. “The guy is a looney tune!”
On April 1, Senator Laforge and her entourage joined Regimental Combat Team 7, 3rd Battalion, 4th Marines. She joined them as they rumbled toward the city of Ad Diwaniyah. Ad Diwaniyah was an important city situated in a riverine area about 20 miles west of a channel of the Euphrates River and about a hundred miles south of Baghdad. The city was reputed to be a command headquarters and stronghold of Fedayeen fighters.
As they approached Ad Diwaniyah, a city of half a million, tanks began being shot at by rocket-propelled grenades fired from behind some palm trees in front of an apartment complex. The attacks were more of an annoyance than a threat to the convoy, and the tanks continued to move until they reached a high mound from where they overlooked the enemy positions in the palm groves. Fedayeen fighters were hiding in “berms”, crude holes dug out with bulldozers, where they fire and then take cover, hoping to conceal their location. Soon, like fireworks, sniper fire began to erupt from behind city buildings. Tanks replied with their .50-caliber weapons. Above the din of combat noises, many Iraqi civilians ignored the fighting and continued to mill around or go about their routine business.
Suddenly, they were mired in traffic, unable to move and as Katherine glanced out the window she saw an Iraqi woman waving at them with one hand while motioning desperately with the other to her mouth, begging for food.
Images or chaos passed before them in a flurry. A large city bus whipped around the traffic circle at high speed provoking concern and apprehension among the Marines. Tanks fired 120 mm shells into a factory. Eight men dressed in black, darted frantically from house to house. The Iraqi soldiers hiding in the berms began to sporadically expose themselves as they fired at the marines -one here, one there. Almost instantly Marine marksmen positioned on tanks facing the berm shot them. In the end the few Iraqi survivors waved white flags to surrender. Caches of weapons, including RPG’s and other explosives were recovered from their fighting positions.
That evening Senator Laforge found a brief reprieve from the day’s events listening to some very welcomed news. On BBC, Voice of America, FOX, and CNN the amazing rescue of PFC Jessica Lynch was retold with varying details. She had been taken hostage in the ambush of the 507th Maintenance Division a few days earlier. Conflicting tales surrounded her initial capture and now the rescue. Some said one of the ambushed sergeants jumped from his Humvee disregarding Iraqi gunfire to help PFC Lynch escape into his vehicle. Others claimed that PFC Lynch had resisted her attackers by unleashing hundreds of rounds of bullets from her M-16 rifle at them. Yet others reported that her weapon had jammed making her unable to defend herself. Even her wounds were reported differently by competing media outlets. Some claimed she had been shot, and another stated that she had been stabbed. Regardless of the terrible reporting by the media, her rescue was reason to celebrate.
The unit Katherine was now with headed toward the Tigris River, to cross a bridge at a juncture before meeting with RCT-1 on Route 7. Katherine’s SUV weaved in and out of the long convoy of vehicles heading toward the city of An Nu’maniyah. This town was about 90 miles south of Baghdad. The approach to the city had been mostly uneventful. Many Iraqis stood on the side of the road and yelled Baghdad, Baghdad. Katherine felt that the Iraqi people often treated the marines as liberators instead of conquerors. It was very common to have people stop what they were doing and wave at us or give us a thumbs up. Iraqi children would salute the men in the convoy. Ten miles outside of An Nu’maniyah, they did engage a small force of dug in Iraqis who tried to stall the advancing convoy, but were quickly defeated.
The change of scenery was dramatic as they neared An Nu’maniyah. The new vista consisted of lush greens and palm groves spreading out into the fields surrounding the road leading to the town. The military used loudspeakers in the city to seek cooperation from the locals, but fighting raged regardless. Over forty tanks were involved in battles around the city and explosions could be heard throughout the day. Some factories and military training facilities were destroyed and continued to burn throughout the night. Numerous Iraqi armored vehicles and artillery pieces were also destroyed or captured. Katherine heard that about fifty Iraqi soldiers and fourteen Baath officials surrendered during the battles. In general, the residents seemed very cooperative, prompted probably by not wanting their homes, schools and Mosques destroyed. By the end of the day, RCT-5 crossed the bridge over the Tigris as they had hoped.
The next day the sprint toward Baghdad continued. RCT-5 commander got an order from Major General Mattis: “Go heavy kinetic all the way to Baghdad.” With these orders, Colonel Dunford moved onto Route 6 and headed toward Baghdad. They did not have villagers lining the road cheering them on, but instead were fired at by Iraqis hiding in fields, behind buildings, and in the woods lining the road. There was much more resistance along Route 6. Another tactic used by the Iraqis was setting fire to trenches filled with kerosene or crude oil. This tactic blackened the sky and made driving a little more hazardous, but was of little consequence to their march to Baghdad.
The new pace of the campaign plus the heighten concern about gas attacks as they grew closer to Baghdad tired Kat considerably. She had also been in the same outfit for several days, and was conscious of how rank she had become. She supposed it should not bother her because this is a war zone, but it did, and it concerned her even more that it did. Kat was not as talkative as usual and Bakr could sense a slight tension in the silence. He tried to strike up a conversation with Kat, but at first she was unresponsive. “Bakr, these last few days have been life altering to me. It makes me ashamed that as humans we continue going about killing each other. We are still some primitive being going about destroying, killing, raping and enslaving each other, just as we did thousands of years ago. It seems the one advance, we have accomplished is making killing as natural, unemotional and unmemorable as a bowel movement.” Kat said.
“War and death affect all who experience it firsthand. You will make a much better President from what you have encountered here.” Bakr replied.
“I certainly won’t forget w
hat I have seen here. The smell of death will never leave me. Its odor is a part of war that will linger with me, along with the visions of the many dead, I have witnessed.”
In the distance you could hear the occasional sound of wolves and other wild dogs howling.
They raced through Al’ Aziziyah and arrive at Tuwayhah, where the Marines took some heavy casualties. The fighting was fierce. They passed wrecked and burning Iraqi T-55s, T-62s, trucks and fuelers along the highway. Fedayeen fighters had cut fire trenches at intersections, filled them with oil, and lit them, to try and make movement more difficult. Columns of smoke rose above the city, but they did not really hamper the marines nor the CH-46s that swooped in to evacuate the wounded. At a field shock-trauma hospital, Kat saw a Marine sitting in a pool of his own blood. The man had not said anything about the seriousness of his condition, until he nearly fainted, and doctors rushed to help him up. They asked why he remained silent. He replied that the others were hurt far worse than he was.
The night of April 7th was alive with the sounds and visions of war. High in the Baghdad sky ghostly flares slowly descended. Their eerie light casting shadowy silhouettes of blackened war machines across the vista. Swirling smoke from the fires in Baghdad coalesced into an undulating glowing canopy rippling with flashing red lines from the tracers and artillery rounds slicing through it. This menacing thunderhead was like a black hole swallowing all light, even the dancing flares dropping from the sky. From within its darkness the dull thud of bombs reverberated as if a monstrous giant was stomping through the city.
It was rumored that the next day the marines escorting Kat would attempt to enter Southeast Baghdad by crossing the Diyala River. Baghdad was surrounded by coalition troops. They flowed around the outskirts of the city like the swirling waters of a flood; poking and prodding the city’s perimeter for any openings. Some defenses had already crumbled and through them rumbled a tidal wave of armor and troops.
Kat felt emotions welling up inside her that she wanted to contain. The calm of the night had freed her mind from the constant thought of survival. A bottle of arrack with Bakr and her aide Paul Shermer had greatly diminished the effects of battle induced adrenaline that had masked much of the horrors of war. Now, unwelcomed visions entered her mind. She thought of where she was in Iraq. Wasn’t this roughly the area where ComDefC1 was purportedly destroyed? The relief she had once felt about her twin’s demise was gone and in its place was sadness. Seeing violent death first hand had softened the callousness she had once held. Haunting her now were the eternal stares of the blacken corpses entombed in the vehicle graveyard along Route 7. Who were all those people? Why do we do this to each other? Her emotions had to be contained. There was no one she could confine in about the emptiness she felt.
Katherine had come to view members of the military as the noblest Americans. They joined as innocent young men and women and slowly metamorphosed into the modern day warrior. Regardless of the rhetoric aimed at them, they are the saviors of our way of life. It is their blind faith in our nation and their unwavering perseverance in their missions that keeps our country a superpower. Although the blood and horror of combat quickly ebbs away their youthful immortality and innocence, a new reverence of life takes its place. Daily survival became God’s gift and living takes on a much greater meaning.
In the early morning mist of April 8th the marines from RCT-5 rumbled toward the Diyala River. Their mission was to take control of Baghdad’s Rasheed Airport. The route to the river was a macabre scene of rotting bodies littering the road juxtaposed to buildings festooned in colored lights casting carnival glows over old men sipping coffee. Katherine was surprised at the lack of panic displayed by civilians. If this scene was unfolding on the outskirts of Washington D.C. and hundreds of thousands of Islamic jihadists were encircling the burning capital and blasting it with rockets, mortars and slaying infidels, civilians would not be nonchalantly sipping coffee as they rumbled by. The outskirts would be deserted or hopefully a bastion of resistance. But here in Iraq, as the Coalition tanks and armor lumbered toward the Diyala River, people just watched, waved or quietly went about their business.
Katherine was closer than ever to the real action. The Marines a short distance from the Diyala River set up a temporary command post and this would become her vantage point for the upcoming battle. Katherine could feel the earth shake as sixty-seven tons Abrams tanks clanked by flattening anything in their path. As they neared the river’s edge their co axial machine guns roared into action spewing out deadly burst of bullets across the Diayala River.
The north side of the river was heavily defended by Republican Guards, irregular forces, and foreign jihadist. They fought from behind two story homes and small stores lining the river’s edge. Some darted back and forth from date tree to date tree firing wildly at the marines on the south side of the river. They used mortars, artillery, RPGs, rifles and even donkey carts mounted with a crude rocket launcher to engage the marines.
Exploding artillery and cannon rounds shrouded the north side of the river with dark plumes of smoke. Massive displays of Marine firepower obliterated trees and buildings on the heavily defended far side. The Iraqi show of force was quickly decimated. By the afternoon of the 8th many marines were on the north side of the bridge and setting up a new perimeter.
The onslaught of fire either killed or caused members of the Republican Guard to retreat deeper into Baghdad. From within Baghdad Iraqis fired artillery at the marines crossing the Diyala River. Two marines were killed, but their death did not prevent the completion of the floating bridge and repairing a bridge bombed previously by the Iraqis to hinder entrance into the city.
It was strange being a part of this historic moment with troops that soon would attack Baghdad. The visions of Hulagu’s army encircling the city centuries ago came to her mind. The similarities of that event and operation Enduring Freedom were many. The Shiites were remembered for assisting Hulagu’s entry into the city and much help was given by the Shiites in this campaign. If Saddam Hussein had just left Iraq the war probably would have never happened and in 1258 if the caliph had left Baghdad and surrendered the city bloodshed would have been averted.
They rumbled into Baghdad at last with RCT-5 near the Dyala River. Artillery shells fired back at the military encampment while RCT-1 and RCT-7 charged into the center of the city. For days, precision-guided bombs from U.S. aircraft had pounded the city, weakening the Republic Guard strongholds and probably sparing many lives that would have been otherwise lost.
The various regiments engaged in a number of scattered firefights, but the most poignant and symbolic victory for the Coalition forces came on April 10. On this day the military seized Saddam’s family palace-compound without a fight. The troops halted at Firdos Square. There, a six-meter high metal statue of Saddam Hussein with his arm upraised loomed above the traffic circle. His stance was reminiscent of Stalin, ruling with an iron fist. This is the man, Kat reminded herself, who would be Nebuchadnezzar, a man with an ego and ambition virtually unrivaled in the Middle East. This is the man who through intimidation was able to bring together the Sunnis and Shiites and breakdown many of the tribal customs. But some felt his evil surpassed his good and were glad to be rid of him.
Firdos Square was crowded with Iraqis that were attempting to knock over the statue of Saddam Hussein. A tank crew decided to help them and hooked two cables to the neck of the statue. The other ends of the cables were attached to a M-88 tank retriever. To the cheers and applause of the gathering Iraqis in the street -- and broadcast around the world -- the tank pulled away, toppling the statue of Saddam Hussein to the ground, in a moment that resonated with as much poignancy as the toppling of the Berlin Wall. Iraqi men quickly dragged Saddam’s head along the street, with men and boys slapping it with their shoes. A man yelled, “Damn you, Saddam! Go to hell! Damn you, Saddam! Go to hell!”
A field hospital set up in one of the more secure areas near downtown Baghdad was staffed by both
coalition and Iraqi doctors. It was one of the few positive happenings among many negatives that Baghdad could be proud of. Most of the patients were children and mothers. To insure media attention, the Iraqi medical staff had somehow convinced members of the Iraqi’s Symphony Orchestra to visit and perform a few pieces. The military wanted to present a picture of normalcy, cooperation and promise for the visiting reporters, upper brass and politicians. They had even set up a table loaded with a selection of Iraqi dishes to cater to the dignitaries visiting the field hospital. On it was al maskoof a fresh water fish from the Tigris River, hummus, baba ganoush, tabbouleh, bamieh, Kubba, and the famous Iraqi kabab. They even had kubba hamiz, a famous Iraqi dish consisting of minced meat and minced rice stuffed with meat and spices, all in tomato sauce with chick peas, turnips, rice and other vegetables. They had a delicious dessert called min alsama, which Iraqis claimed is prepared only in their country. Kat’s favorite was the Iraqi pickles made from cucumbers fermented in date vinegar and stuffed with parsley and garlic. While people mingled and sampled the epicurean delights, the music of Amr Diab played in the background. His songs were big hits in Iraq. They were mostly love songs that sounded very contemporary with Middle East flair. Bakr told Kat that Amr Diab was one of the biggest super stars in Iraq. Kat visited the field hospital section where the kids were being treated. After Amr’s beautiful song called “Wahshteny” ended, some musicians from the Iraqi’s Symphony Orchestra played “My Country,” which brought tears to many in the mingling crowd. It is an intense haunting song that talks about reuniting everyone and healing wounds. It is a beautiful piece that ends with “Oh my beloved Iraq.” being repeated.
