The Farm

As a Signal Officer, I am not required to leave the base everyday on combat missions. I spent time as an enlisted soldier in the 82^nd Airborne Division and the 101^st Air Assault Division, and during those years, fate did not place me in combat. I did a lot of training for war, but no war. Now, here in the year 2005 I find myself a 1^st Lieutenant in the Utah Army National Guard, acting as the Signal Officer for an outstanding unit.  I am comfortable and content in my position as a staff officer. I understand the importance of all positions as they are inter-twined with one another.

But as I’ve said, everybody is a gun. I recently led a team on a mission to check for a suspected Al Qaeda weapons cache at a place I’ll call the “the farm.” There were three teams, and they needed a Lieutenant to act as team leader. My name came up, and my Operations Officer called me in to see him.

He told me he needed me to go out on a mission to search for a weapons cache. I said that was no problem.

I’d be lying if I told you that little butterflies did not appear in my stomach at that very moment. They did.

Major M said "Be safe out there, LT, and go talk to the Battle Captain for the details of the mission, alright?"

"Roger that, sir.”

For the next few days, we had a series of briefings, rehearsals, and equipment inspections. We would be inserting by helicopter.

I was confident in my team, which included two of my own NCOs, a K9 team, and a machine gunner.

We conducted a walk-through rehearsal, and I had made my objectives clear. My area of responsibility was to the south of the farm, and imagery showed at least two buildings which would have to be cleared, with a lot of tire tracks leading to them. Intelligence reports told us that a large weapons cache had recently been found on a farm very much like this one and very near by. It was a bit of a “gut-check” when my intelligence officer told us that there was a possible terrorist training camp a few miles away from the objective. Also, we were going in during the morning hours in broad daylight. I won’t discuss the reasons for this, but suffice it to say that reasons existed.

The night before the mission I went over the plan in my mind. I looked at the imagery of the farm and tried to picture what it would be like on the ground. I had been speaking with my family about my mother’s worsening condition, so I said a prayer for her and tried to put it out of my mind for a few hours. It was a time for focused action, not feeling sorry for myself because life was dealing me a tough hand.

Morning came quickly. The sun was obscured by a haze of soft grey clouds, adding a hushed feel to the air. Sound was muffled. Wind was low. I showered, put my gear on and walked over to the pick-up area. We did a final equipment check and discussed actions on the objective. Ammunition. Check. Radio checks. Good. Flex cuffs. Check. Water. Check. After a short ride in the back of a 5-ton truck, we were on the pickup zone, waiting for the birds. I told my team how I wanted them seated in the bird. I was to be the last one on, and first one off so I could set up security as soon as we hit the ground. I reminded them again who would do the searching if we ran into any civilians, which I knew we would, and who would clear the buildings.

The sound of the helicopters hit us before we could even see them. As they approached, we all turned away or averted our faces to avoid the dust-off. We loaded the bird and were in the air fast. It was intense to be flying over Ramadi in broad daylight. People lived in those homes. Men planned and assembled IEDs in those buildings. Some down there were probably glad to hear our passing, but others raised fists in the air or dropped the thumb on their hands pointed at us in the shape of guns. This is one of the most dangerous cities on earth. I imagined RPGs fired from every rooftop, sniper fire from every shady window. I kept looking at the K9, who was beautiful but uneasy in the helicopter. I could only imagine what the props sounded like to its sensitive ears.

The door gunner was constantly scanning, shifting his position when the aircraft turned in the sky. Eventually he gave me the hand signal for two minute warning. I gave the team the age-old command to “lock and load” by pulling out a magazine and tapping it on my helmet to make sure the rounds were seated nice and tight inside. This got the team’s attention, and they all followed suit.

Finally the farm was below us. The sight of it galvanized in my mind with the images I had reviewed in the days before. I went from planning to execution in a visceral way, and the butterflies were now an Army of blind bats flying around in my stomach. Fear of the unknown was good thing, because it heightened my senses and had me on full alert. And the two buildings were right where I expected them to be.  Time slowed down as the helicopter’s skids met the crust of the desert. The ramp dropped and I ran into a world of completely blinding dust. I could see where the other birds were landing and I led the team around in a semi-circle to set up security for the landing zone.

As soon as the helicopters lifted off and the dust started to settle down, I had my eyes focused on the first of the two buildings, all the time checking the dispersion of my team.  Using hand and arm signals, I directed the team to form up and begin moving toward the building.

Right at that moment, a man wearing a white gown appeared in the doorway. We made eye contact. I had no choice but to assume he was armed, and could not treat him any other way until I knew he wasn’t. With my weapon at low ready, I yelled, “Move out of the doorway. Come towards me.” I knew he may not speak English, so I used hand signals which were easily understood. When you land on someone’s farm and run at them with a weapon, motioning for them to come out, they know.

He began moving slowly towards me as I closed the distance between us. I did not see any other movement or people. I told one Sergeant to check the man for weapons while I covered him, and told another to move past me and clear the building. We checked the man for weapons, and then let him sit down comfortably. I left one man on him, but had them move forward within the perimeter of the security I was emplacing. The machine gunner would maintain radio contact and keep a close watch on the road nearby.

Once I knew the man was secure, I moved immediately behind the clearing team. I watched one Sergeant stop outside the door, and then go in, weapon first, to the right. Another did the same action to the left. I went in next, and decided to go right because the building was small and the right room was the larger of the two.

In one corner there was a beautiful young girl asleep under a multi-colored blanket. The helicopters didn’t wake her. Our yelling didn’t wake her. She was a deep sleeper, just like my own daughter, and I was glad. The only part of her that was exposed was the right cheek, which the sun was lighting, and where at least 20 flies rested. I scattered them by waving my hand near her face.

After this quiet moment looking at the girl, I moved back out into the sunlight to continue the search. I kept a security element on the first building, sent a team to clear the second one, and began working with the K9 team to begin the task of searching the farm and all its fields.

"Let the dog off, Corporal. Let’s follow his nose,” I said, watching as SSG M moved towards the second building.

I had a radio on my body armor, with an earpiece and boom microphone attached to my ballistic helmet. I depressed the button attached to the front of my body armor and said, “Red 6, White 6, this is Blue 6. First building clear. Sweeping north to second structure. One male. No weapons, over.”

One of the other team leaders came back, “Blue 6, this is Red 6. Roger. Out.”

I then called to members of my team. “Blue commo, I want comms set up ASAP, but keep SGT B with you for security. SGT M, hold where you are. CPL M (my machine gunner), you in place?”

"Roger that.”

"Blue 6 out.”

I then gave SSG M the word to clear the building with two other team members he had with him. I kept eyes on while they did so. It was a small structure. It was cleared within minutes. I made a few more adjustments of personnel, so as to set up 360 degree security around my sector of the objective, giving the K9 and engineer teams the freedom to do their magic.

“All teams. This is Blue 6. Southern objective secure. All structures clear. Moving Northeast towards your location with K9 and Engineer elements.”

We spent the next few hours checking the various parts of the farm. In the end, all three teams linked back up and prepared for pickup near the landing zone. There were some children on the farm, ranging in age from two to thirteen. We had brought soccer balls and candy in case there were children. I gave the younger ones some candy, and they smiled. They were standing in the doorway of the first structure we had cleared, relaxed now. The interpreter explained why we were there. The oldest boy was kicking the soccer ball back and forth with Specialist T. It was quite a sight, standing there outside this little home, waiting for our ride, happy to be safe, and to have another successful mission almost completed.

It was hot. The clouds had cleared and the sun was now a brass coin in the East. My senses were sharp: the sound of the ball being kicked - the surrealism of being in a foreign land, where an enemy can lurk anywhere - the lack of wind - the color of the desert melting into the horizon – the pink plastic sandals someone had left outside the door of the home – the sweetness of the water in my Camel Back, pickup trucks going by on the nearby road with men packed in the beds - and the soldiers on my team, always scanning for any sign of danger.

Looking at these people's home, I could see that part of it was made of cardboard boxes instead of bricks. Someone had stacked them and then “sealed” with mortar. There were no doors. No running water. No furniture to speak of. The man said he had been watching TV when we landed. I noticed a small 10 inch TV in the room. And as I looked around the side of the house, sure enough, out there in the middle of nowhere, rural Ramadi,Iraq– there was a satellite dish. It was powered by a haphazard telephone pole system that led off into the desert. Amazing.

I won’t discuss whether or not we found any weapons that day. I’ll just say that the mission was definitely worthwhile.I will tell you that nobody was hurt, American or otherwise. We popped smoke and re-loaded the birds. As we flew closer to the FOB, and I knew the team was safe, I allowed myself some more personal thoughts. I wondered what my mom was doing right then, at that very moment. I had a picture of her in my right breast pocket. Was she thinking of me too?

An hour after that I was sitting in the chow hall with my NCOs, munching on corndogs and fries. Eight hours later I was on another helicopter, in total darkness, watching the door gunner again. This time I was just a passenger, heading 7000 miles away towards the ravaged city of New Orleans for Emergency Leave. The emotions of the next few weeks were still a mystery to me, like the creation of the world or how men can kill innocent people in the name of their God.

links: digg this    del.icio.us    technorati    reddit