So much for optimism. It was, after all, cautious because I was uncertain if the trends would continue, and in spite of a sunny outlook at the time of my last posting, the conditions deteriorated again about 10 days ago.
It all began just after dusk as I was walking back to our headquarters building where I live and work. A bright flash on the horizon from the direction of downtown Ramadi, a delay, and then the distant boom that we have all become familiar with. As the sound reached me, there was second flash from the same area. Things were getting serious down there, and for the next several hours, the intensity of the activity fluctuated, but it continued and spread out across the city. Optimism shattered. The mud was coming back with a vengeance! That electrical storm dropped 1 1/4 inches of rain before it dissipated, and we were plunged back into the mire of Ramuddi.
On the tactical front, the massive sweep of Iraqi Police (IP) through parts of Ramadi has turned out be a significant catalyst for the entire area. Shortly after the sweep, there were a few targeted operations into the known insurgent hiding areas, where several insurgents were killed or captured, and from that point 'til now, the entire city has gone quiet. That's 6 weeks of relative peace throughout the entire city. There are still occasional shootings or snipers, but heavier forms of combat have virtually ceased. The local residents nearly swarm patrols to tell them where munitions are cached or IEDs are planted.
It's been kind of bizarre. Even here on the FOB, we have not been mortared in several weeks. For about a week this winter, it seemed that every time I decided to go eat lunch, we'd get mortared. The food here isn't too bad, but let's face it, it's not THAT good. I guess you could say that the food isn't gruel and unusual punishment, but it certainly wears on you to see the same stuff day after day for 8 months.
The city of Fallujah is experiencing similar success to what we have seen here. However, for all of our success, the insurgents are not out of the fight yet, and this is still a hazardous place. We have been largely successful in securing and bringing some degree of peace to the major population centers of Al Anbar province. The strategy employed here is working, and our tactical optimism continues to grow. I don't suppose any of this has been in the news?
Speaking of the news, you've probably seen that there have been a series of car bombings here over the last 2 weeks. I can certainly understand the newsies desire to get the word out quickly on what has transpired, but I do take issue with their complete lack of accuracy. I can also see where things get distorted. Within 15-20 seconds of the truck bomb in Ramadi, our communications systems were alive with initial reports; direction, distance, personnel status, and shortly there after initial casualty estimates. Listening to the first reports, I hear that 25-30 people have been killed and more injured. Chaos and differing perspectives. Conflicting information. One of my credos to my Operations Center staff is to always assume that the initial information for any combat situation is wrong and that they need to aggressively pursue the facts and corroborate the details. In the final count, there were 2 people killed and 9 injured. The news reported 27 killed and a similar number injured, which is consistent with the first blush report, but grossly wrong. When's the last time you saw a news agency update a report with revised casualty figures on an attack here? From personal experience, I can tell you that the news is using the initial figures and not the actual (lower) figures. We've had 3 vehicle bombs here lately, and every one of them were reported with overstated casualties.
A number of you have asked what I do here, so I thought I'd try to relate the anatomy of a combat mission. In general, my job is to plan, organize and oversee the execution of every mission this Task Force (TF) does, both combat and non-combat missions. Because my primary role is to move the TF forward as a whole, the majority of my work is done in an office with sandbagged windows. However, in order to understand the environment and insure that missions are executed to the plan, I periodically have to (get to) go on missions with our soldiers. On average, I do about 2-3 missions a month, and this is how most of them play out:
The day of the mission, I check in with the Company's operation center to get the final timeline to make sure I'm in the right place at the right time. Two and a half hours prior to departure, I attend the patrol mission brief where they talk through what route we're taking, the objectives, which vehicles are going, and what order they will be in. The kid to my left is identified as being in the lead vehicle, and passing a glance over him I can see he hasn't shaved. Ever. The sun highlights a faint facial fuzz, but today he's on the very pointy end of the spear. Alone and unafraid, hunting IEDs. The first one into harms way.
The next link up is one hour prior to mission to load vehicles, conduct the final situation brief, check equipment, and move out. The short lull in activity allows me time to do the final checks on my equipment.
Everything that requires batteries gets turned on and checked and the presence of spare batteries is verified. After one recent mission, curiosity got the better of me, and I weighed my combat gear that I take on missions. By nature, I am a minimalist when it comes to hauling gear around. I'd rather suffer through something than haul a lot of extras on contingency. My combat load came in at 81 lbs with body armor, helmet, weapons, ammo, gas mask, night vision equipment, water, and the ever required empty Gatorade bottle. Yep, that wide mouth bottle is essential equipment when the pressure is on, you've got several hours left on the mission, and the tactical situation says you can't leave the vehicle. Of course it really helps to cut off water consumption a couple hours prior to departure, but simple biology and Murphy's Law are always in cahoots. Dignity really is over rated!
At the final load out, all the pieces come together. Weapons are mounted, provisions stashed, and the Platoon Sergeant in his infinite wisdom (and experience) has dispatched a couple soldiers to the dining facility to bring back "to-go" plates for everyone on the patrol since
the mission will run over the meal hours. Once the vehicles and
equipment are ready, the soldiers are given an opportunity to eat. Time is running short, so the food is inhaled quickly with little conversation. The patrol gathers for the final brief and review of the rules of engagement (ROE) procedures. ROE is a set of strict guidelines that dictate what we can and should shoot at, and what/when we should hold fire. It is vital that everyone understand and abide by these to avoid friendly fire incidents and civilian casualties. As the briefing wraps up, the patrol leader invites all who are interested to stay for a prayer. No one leaves the circle.
As the patrol mounts up, I wrestle into my body armor, helmet, ballistic eye wear, ear plugs, and nomex gloves. I settle into my seat and slip on the radio/intercom headset. One of the ingenious crew members has figured out how pipe his iPod into the intercom system, so we roll out to the staging area listening to the muted strains of George Thoroughgood's "Bad to the Bone".
Our security escort hit the staging area just ahead of us, so the patrol leader dismounts to consummate the link up, exchange frequencies and call signs, and verify that security knows the route and what we need them to do. Radio checks are done with the security element and our headquarters, and upon success, the patrol leader orders the patrol to move out. We hit the line of departure one minute ahead of schedule.
As we roll out of the secured area, the radio comes to life with the cascading reports from each vehicle that weapons have gone "hot" and designated sectors are covered. From here, the patrol will spend the next 8-12 hours "licking the windows".
I'm not sure who coined that phrase exactly, but it is quite descriptive of our IED hunting patrols. To find IEDs, you have to visually scrutinize every inch of the road and it's shoulders looking for signs that something is amiss. That scrutiny comes through pressing your head against the ballistic glass and looking at the ground around the vehicle. It really is akin to licking the windows...
The patrol turns out to be a quiet ride from start to finish. No IEDs.
March was a record month for us with our patrols reducing 200 IEDs.
That level of activity was also higher than any single month for the unit before us as well. Pretty remarkable. Now we're anxious to see how the changes in Ramadi will impact our patrols and their activities.
My conundrum for this month: what rocket scientist decided it was a good idea to put the Combat Stress clinic in the same building with the Explosive Ordnance Disposal guys that are always blowing things up?
Now that I've rambled for 3 pages, I think it's time to wrap this one up. Hopefully, you've found this view of our anatomy illuminating.
Dave
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