by Ted Halstead
The problem was that Captain Dabiri had anticipated the spotters coming under fire, and was actually surprised it had taken this long. Once the fourth spotter failed to check in, Dabiri had all the information he needed to calculate Omar’s likely position. The next six Basir rounds bracketed that spot.
Omar has been lining up his shot on the fifth spotter when the first round impacted and threw off his aim. The second hit while he was trying to reset his aim, and sent a piece of shrapnel into his right leg. Cursing, Omar was tightening a bandage around the wound when the third round made the task unnecessary.
The fourth round guaranteed that Omar’s body would never be discovered.
The fifth and sixth rounds impacted on an empty tent that had been filled with sleeping soldiers, and an APC that had already been rendered immobile by shrapnel from earlier shells.
However, the volley’s task had been accomplished. Nothing more would disturb the rest of the spotters from directing fire on the blockaders’ remaining vehicles.
Only a single M1A2 tank and five APCs survived the Iranian artillery attack, while over three hundred Saudi soldiers had been killed and more than four hundred wounded.
The Iranians lost six spotters.
Colonel Bijan, Captain Dabiri and his men then rushed to prepare the HM-41 self-propelled howitzers for the road to Doha. Whether they would be able to do so without interference would depend on how quickly Saudi Arabia’s military leadership realized an artillery attack had been responsible for the destruction of their blockade force.
Chapter Fourteen
Ministry of Defense, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia
Prince Ali bin Sultan rubbed his eyes, willing them to remain open. Sleep on the Bell 412 helicopter that had flown him from his command post of armored forces in Yemen to Riyadh had been impossible, and he had been taken directly from the helipad to this conference room at the Ministry of Defense. Looking at the neatly pressed uniform of Prince Khaled bin Fahd, the Air Force commander, he wondered whether it would have been possible to share the jet that he had used to return to Riyadh several hours earlier.
Given the size of Khaled’s ego there probably wouldn’t have been enough room, Ali thought acidly.
The Crown Prince walked in and immediately noted the contrast between the immaculately turned out Air Force commander and the armored commander still in the tanker coveralls he’d been wearing when the helicopter picked him up from Yemen. Ali knew the smile the Crown Prince gave them both as he sat down.
It was the same smile Ali gave his children when they’d been fighting over their toys.
Ali willed himself to relax. He had to keep reminding himself that the Crown Prince had gone to the same American armor training school he had.
It wasn’t that the American military didn’t have officers who placed a high priority on “proper appearance.” It did. But after more than two decades of constant battlefield operations, those officers were a distinct minority.
“I know you’ve both been briefed on what we know about the attack on our blockading force at the Qatari border. I’ve called you both here to get your assessment of what happened, and to make recommendations on what we should do in response. Ali, you go first,” the Crown Prince said, nodding in his direction.
“The attack included an electronic warfare capability we haven’t seen before in this region. Because of this signal jamming, it took over an hour after the start of the attack for word to reach Riyadh, and another hour after that before the full scope of the disaster became clear. The survivors disagreed about what had happened, including whether it had been an air or ground attack. If it had been a ground attack, there was also disagreement about whether the attackers had used tanks or artillery.”
Ali paused and shook his head. “Tanks obviously make more sense, but whose and from where? The Qatari tanks were under constant surveillance, and no other country has a land border anywhere near. American Marines might have hovercraft capable of landing tanks on the nearby beaches, but no other country does.”
“Drones have crisscrossed Qatar ever since our blockading force arrived at the border years ago. There’s no way massed artillery capable of such a devastating attack could have been missed, no matter what some of the survivors are saying.”
Ali nodded in Khaled’s direction. “That leaves an air attack, which I recognize is Khaled’s field of expertise. I will only say that I think bombing runs by enemy aircraft are easy to rule out, since they would have been detected by what I understand is our highly capable radar network. I think that leaves cruise missiles. I understand Iran has them, but will defer to Khaled on whether they could account for the damage we sustained in this attack.
“We are already doing the obvious — providing aid to survivors of the attack, sifting through the battlefield to discover how the attack was carried out, and to prove what I think is clear, that Iran was the attacker. If so, we need to prepare a military and diplomatic response to Iran’s aggression, hopefully with American support. I think reestablishing the blockade will have to wait until we’ve dealt with the missile threat in Yemen. However, since the blockade force was in charge of deploying and monitoring the drones that had been keeping an eye on Qatar’s Leopard tanks, we need to get replacements up and their feed monitored as soon as we can, though I think our response to the attack should be the top priority.”
Ali grimaced. “I know it’s not much, but that’s my best based on what we know now.”
The Crown Prince nodded, and turned to Khaled, who had clearly been displeased when Ali’s comments had included reference to a possible air attack.
Khaled clearly struggled to find another way to say it, but in the end he had no choice.
“I agree with Ali. There is only one reasonable conclusion. The force blockading Qatar has been struck by Iranian cruise missiles. First, some history.”
Khalid signaled to one of his aides, and a screen dropped at the front of the conference room.
Great, Ali thought. Just what we need in our hour of crisis — PowerPoint slides. When he had gone to the Armor School, two speakers had received by far the most enthusiastic standing ovations. The first had been Colin Powell, former Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and Secretary of State.
The second had been a speaker who began his presentation with the words, “I’m sorry to tell you that I don’t have any PowerPoint slides to go with this talk.”
Khaled continued, “Iran first publicly displayed a domestically produced cruise missile in 2015 called the Soumar, based on the Russian Kh-55 cruise missiles Iran purchased from Ukraine over a decade earlier. With a range of between two and three thousand kilometers, it could have easily struck our forces from a base anywhere in Iran. An improved air-launched cruise missile was displayed in Iran’s Army Day parade in 2018, which included the capability to be guided to its target by a weapons operator up to one hundred kilometers after launch.”
Khaled clicked on slides with photos of each missile to illustrate his points.
Ali had to grudgingly admit that as long as Khaled kept the slides to that purpose, they were actually useful. Next a winged drone replaced the Soumar on the screen.
“Another possibility to consider is a drone attack. The Iranians have produced several, but as far as we know only the Shahed 129 model has actually fired a missile that hit a target, Syrian rebel forces in 2016. The next year the Americans shot down Shahed 129s that were attempting to attack coalition forces twice, both times with F-15s.”
Khaled clicked again and a similar drone appeared, this time with a bulbous nose.
“This variant has supposedly added satellite control to the drone’s capabilities. However, though Iran has launched several small satellites, the Americans advise that none of them could possibly provide the basis for successfully controlling a drone.”
Ali nodded. "Too small to contain the necessary communications hardware?”
Khalid smiled. “Precisely. And without satellite control, there’s
no way the drones could have been guided to attack our forces from Iran.”
Ali frowned. "Are we so sure of the Americans’ dismissal of Iran’s space program? Maybe the Iranians have capabilities they haven’t detected.”
Khalid laughed, and looked at his notes. “Well, to be fair, they have successfully launched and returned two monkeys, a rodent, a turtle, and several worms from suborbital flights. Sadly, another monkey did not survive its encounter with Iranian space technology.”
Seeing from the Crown Prince’s expression that he didn’t appreciate the humor, Khaled quickly added, “Besides, even fully loaded Iran’s entire drone force couldn’t have delivered the explosive payload used against our forces.”
Khaled clicked his remote again and an image of parked M1A2 tanks inside a hardened hangar filled the screen.
“We should also ask why Iran would have picked our blockade force at the Qatari border as a target. I think the answer is that it was a target of opportunity. We publicly announced we were sending more tanks to reinforce the blockade as a warning to the Qataris not to think about taking advantage of our heavy engagement in Yemen. The only armored force of even greater size is well protected here in Riyadh, as this slide shows. The blockade force was exposed, and easy to target.”
A dead silence descended on the conference room, and every head turned to Ali.
“It’s true. I’ve read the reports, and late at night when the attack occurred all of the tanks and APCs were parked in the open. None were on patrol.
Colonel Barazi was a good man, and I picked him myself for this command. I had ordered that some of our armor was to be on patrol at all times. I understand that didn’t happen because we ran short of tankers to run fuel to the blockade force due to the higher priority we set for the forces in Yemen.”
Ali paused. “The irony of this disaster having been made even worse by a lack of fuel in the country leading the world in petroleum exports has not escaped me. I have already offered my resignation to the Defense Minister, who has refused it.”
The Crown Prince, who also served as Defense Minister, nodded. “That’s right. It’s precisely at times of crisis like this that we need our most experienced commanders.”
Then the Crown Prince shook his head, obviously unhappy with both the situation and their limited information to address it. “Very well. Until we’re able to retrieve and analyze the weapons debris from the attack, we will plan on the basis that this was an Iranian cruise missile attack, launched from Iran.
So, your suggested response, Khaled?”
Khaled clicked his remote control again, and another missile filled the screen, this time one with Saudi markings.
“I suggest that we trade Iran missile for missile. The DF-21s we purchased from China have the range to strike any target we choose inside Iran. I have a list of suggested military targets for your review, with a high priority on bases suspected of housing the Soumar missiles that were probably used to attack us. We have a dozen mobile launchers that came with the DF-3 missiles we bought from China earlier, and those would work as a launch platform for the DF-21s.”
The Crown Prince grunted, and shook his head. “I thought you might suggest that, and have already discussed the DF-21 option with His Majesty.
He is unhappy with it for two reasons. First, we don’t have many of them, and if we use them now we won’t have a credible ballistic missile deterrent.
He knows as well as the rest of you do that the other option, the DF-3s, are old, inaccurate and with their liquid fuel almost as dangerous to us as to the Iranians. Second, we’ve never test fired either missile. How sure are we that the DF-21s we fire will go where they’re aimed?”
Before Khaled had a chance to respond the Crown Prince shook his head decisively. “I know I told you that I called you both here to discuss options.
The truth is nothing either of you has said has changed my mind about the course I’ve already recommended to His Majesty. We will ask the Americans to carry out a cruise missile attack on Iran, once we’ve confirmed that cruise missiles were the weapon the Iranians used to attack us. The Americans have a submarine stationed nearby that can easily launch such an attack, and if we have proof of Iran’s responsibility for the attack on our blockade force I’m sure we can persuade them to do so.”
Seeing Khaled’s expression the Crown Prince smiled and shook his head.
“Your work has not all been wasted. I will give your target list to the Americans. And let’s face it- both of you already have more than enough to do in Yemen.”
With that the Crown Prince rose, and Ali quickly found himself sitting alone across from an obviously unhappy Khaled.
“So,” Ali asked innocently, “can I get a ride with you back to Yemen?”
United States Military Training Mission, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia
Technical Sgt. Josh Pettigrew had never heard of the United States Military Training Mission to Saudi Arabia, or as everyone called it USMTM, pronounced “youse-mi-tim.” After his last assignment in Korea Pettigrew had learned from his commanding officer that there had been a lively debate over whether he should be decorated and promoted, or court-martialed.
“Decorated and promoted” because he had helped to stop a North Korean armored attack on the base housing most of the drones used by US forces in Korea. “Court-martialed” because to do it he had violated numerous Air Force regulations, including the unauthorized use of an armed drone that was supposed to have been sent back to the US for decommissioning.
Fortunately for Pettigrew his CO had enough pull to settle the debate by losing his file long enough to send him as far away from Korea as possible.
Making his status even murkier was that USMTM was actually funded by the profits from US military sales to Saudi Arabia, which meant he was about as far off the organizational chart as possible while still being in the US military.
When he got the assignment he was immediately hustled on the first military transport headed to Kadena, for the first in a very long series of flights to Riyadh. With plenty of time to read, Pettigrew looked up USMTM’s history. He was amazed to learn that it dated back to 1945, when Franklin Roosevelt met with King Abdulaziz on board the USS Quincy at Great Bitter Lake, part of the waterway that with the Suez Canal connected the Mediterranean to the Red Sea. The details had changed over the years, but the basic proposition was the same — in order to defend itself the Saudis would supply the money and the troops, while the Americans would provide the weapons and the training.
Looking out at the dozen students in his classroom, all of them Saudis, Pettigrew thought back to a conversation he had with a friend who had tutored a Saudi named Maqbul studying history at an American university.
Maqbul had given him a paper to review he had written on the development of trade unions in Egypt during the reign of the leader who overthrew the monarchy after independence from the British, Gamal Abdel Nasser. At one point the paper described a strike at a textile factory, which Nasser ended by using troops to rout the strikers and arrest the strike’s leaders.
After reading on a few more pages, the tutor asked Maqbul if he knew what had happened to the strike’s leaders.
Maqbul replied, “They were hung.”
The tutor, nonplussed, asked, “Don’t you think you should have mentioned that in your paper?”
Maqbul shook his head and explained, “That would have gone against the thesis of my paper, which is that overall Nasser was good for trade unions in Egypt.”
Pettigrew knew he was going to need more than the PowerPoint slide deck he’d used with new drone warfare trainees Stateside.
The first slide was the standard one, showing a fully armed Reaper.
“In this course, we are going to focus on the drone we have just sold to the Kingdom, the General Atomics MQ-9 Reaper. This marks the first time we have sold the Reaper to a Middle Eastern ally, and one of the few cases where we have sold it outside NATO. Properly operated, it will give the Kingdom mil
itary capabilities nobody else in region can match.”
Pettigrew paused and pointed at a student in the first row, who had “Fadil” stenciled on his uniform.
“Why do you need this, Fadil?” Pettigrew asked, pointing at the Reaper showing on the slide.
“To defend the Kingdom from its enemies,” Fadil said promptly.
Pettigrew nodded. “And can those enemies attack your Reaper?”
Fadil looked confused, and then said slowly, “I read that it can fly very high.”
Pettigrew smiled. “Correct. It operates at heights up to fifteen thousand meters. Where do you think the Kingdom plans to deploy Reapers?”
Fadil answered immediately. “Yemen.”
Pettigrew nodded and clicked his remote. An online video filled the screen, showing a Reaper falling in flames, while a crowd of Houthi rebels cheered and jubilantly waved automatic weapons in the air. The video ended with Houthis poking at the Reaper’s smoking wreckage.
“This happened in western Yemen in 2017. The Reaper was launched and controlled by US forces in Djibouti. We don’t know what weapons system the Houthis used to shoot it down.”
Pettigrew pointed at another student. “Rahim, why are your forces fighting in Yemen?”
Rahim blinked, and was clearly confused by the question. After a moment he said, “To stop the Houthis from firing missiles at us.”
Pettigrew nodded, and clicked the remote again. This time the online video showed a Saudi M1A2 Abrams tank being hit and destroyed by Houthi anti-tank missile fire.
“This happened in Yemen in 2016. A dozen M1A2 tanks looking for Houthi ballistic missiles have been lost to Houthi anti-tank missiles so far.”
