March 30, 2003
The company clerk, Sgt. Roscoe Archer, paid an unexpected visit to our track that morning. He had this to say about the battle plan:
“No one likes it. A lot of people are saying, ‘Fuck, man, that’s crazy.’ I heard even the colonel said, ‘I don’t like it.’ If it works, it’s brilliant. If it don’t, we’re in trouble.”
Archer had come over to dragoon Baxter and Smitty to measure and lay out a grid of parachute cord, paper flags and wooden blocks in the sand for a terrain model that would be used to rehearse the attack. The two artillerymen, attached to the tank company as part of a forward artillery observing team, were irked.
“Shit. They make us do everything,” Baxter griped when Archer was gone. “We ain’t part of this company. We don’t have to do this!”
“We ain’t a detachment. We a detail,” Smitty bitched.
“Let them do it,” Baxter said.
“If we have to build, then I want to stand around and listen to what’s going on,” Smitty said. “The CO look up and see me and say, ‘What you doing here?’ I’ll say, ‘I built this shit, I want to hear what’s going on.’ They don’t tell us nothing.”
Baxter hefted himself through the hatch into the Bradley’s rear compartment, with Smitty following close behind.
“Out of sight, out of mind!” Baxter said, with a big conspiratorial wink.
Sgt. Will, up in the turret, saw them sneaking in.
“What are you two doing in here? Get your ass out and build that terrain sketch!” Sgt. Will snapped.
Capt. Wolford devoted his briefing around midday to blunt tactical advice, to make sure the company approached this situation with the correct degree of aggressiveness.
“Once the fighting starts, if there are people in the streets, in civilian or military clothing, they are the enemy and they will die,” Wolford said.
“There are some towers and high ground. We will shoot all towers,” Wolford said. “They have used car bombs and suicide bombers … If they don’t stop, fire a burst of 7.62. If they turn around, then they were probably going to the store to get some Saddam beer. If they don’t stop, kill them.”
He talked about the paramilitaries some units had encountered at Nasiriyah and As Samiwah, believed to be a combination of the fanatical Saddam Fedayeen and civilians forced to fight when their families were taken hostage.
“I don’t think they are fighting for the regime. I don’t think they are fighting for the freedom of Iraq. But make no mistake about it. They will fight,” Wolford said. “Like I told you a thousand times, they put one round on you, you put one thousand rounds on them, until those pajama-wearing motherfuckers stop firing. They put one AT (anti-tank) round on us, you blow the whole block up. There is no collateral damage concern that will stop us carrying our mission out. When we’re done, we’ll rename the place Assassin town, because we’ll own it.
“The brigade commander doesn’t say he wants the enemy captured. He doesn’t say he wants the enemy on the run. He says he wants the enemy destroyed. So kill him.”
On a map he had posted on an easel, Wolford pointed out the road that had been dubbed “Route Bruins,” and laid out the plan.
“My intent is to quickly seize this crossing point at the canal, start a fight with the enemy and fucking kill him,” Wolford said. “We’re not going to be jackshitting around.”
He clarified his remarks in response to a platoon leader’s question about the rules of engagement and civilians.
“We still adhere to the Geneva Convention. They are the ones who chose to wear civilian clothes and hide among the civilian population. If we drive in and we’re not taking fire, no one will get shot,” Wolford said.
It was my daughter’s 5th birthday, so that evening, I walked out into the desert, away from the GIs, to call home. My wife could sense something was up, but the rules said no telling, and the NSA was supposedly monitoring transmissions from the neighborhood. That was fine. I didn’t really want to tell her. I just said, “Tomorrow’s going to be a big day.”
That night, Wolford came back from battalion with word that the plan had been changed. No one would be crossing the river. It was now to be a feint on the bridge. Our company would lead the assault. We would lead the assault, and push through to the north side of Hindiyah, destroying whatever enemy forces we encountered and taking up a blocking position to meet anything that might come down that road from Karbala. The mech infantry company, Attack, would turn right and fight through the center of town to the bridge along with Cyclone Company’s tanks. We would all stay on the west side of the river. Everything else Wolford said, about killing anything that looked cross-eyed at us, still held.
Topics: Iraq
Posted by Jules Crittenden at 12:00 am on Friday, March 30, 2007
2 Responses to “March 30, 2003”
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March 30th, 2007 at 1:33 am
March 30, 2003
March 30, 2003Critter Crittenden … Capt. Wolford devoted his briefing around midday to blunt tactical advice, to make sure the company approached this situation with the correct degree of aggressiveness. “Once the fighting starts, if there are peop…
March 30th, 2007 at 1:34 am
Bill’s Nibbles // Open Post — 2007.03.30
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