thedrifter
01-01-04, 03:17 PM
from NewsMax.com
2003: A Season of Valor, Sacrifice - and Many Heroes
Dave Eberhart, NewsMax.com
Monday, Dec. 22, 2003
Profiling just a select few of the bravest of the brave in the War on Terrorism is a vexing project -- until these invariably modest warriors themselves show the way by crediting their remarkable exploits to teamwork and reminding us that all who serve on the frontlines of freedom are our country’s heroes.
Those that get singled out for our nation’s highest military decorations, in large measure, wear that decoration for all who have gone into harm’s way. Ask them, they’ll tell you so.
Remarkably, when NewsMax caught up with a couple of decorated heroes back from the fighting in Iraq, it wasn’t their own war stories that flowed, but the tale of valor of one of their own -- Sergeant First Class Paul Smith, Bravo Company, 11th Engineer Battalion of the 3rd Infantry Division, who died heroically leading his troops in battle Friday, April 4, 2003, in Baghdad, Iraq, during Operation Iraqi Freedom.
As NewsMax reported on Oct. 8, 2003, Smith is the first soldier recommended for the Medal of Honor, the country’s highest decoration for valor in combat, since the Global War on Terrorism combat period began.
Staff Sergeant Charles McNally, also of the 11th Engineers, told NewsMax, “I believe in my heart that he deserves and will get the award.” His friend and fellow combat veteran, Sergeant E-5 David S. Spooner said simply, “I agree.”
During Operation Iraqi Freedom, SFC Smith was a platoon sergeant/acting platoon leader in Bravo Company, which was in contact with Saddam’s forces nearly every day.
The drive on Baghdad from the south eventually carried the task force containing Smith’s parent 11th Engineers into Saddam International Airport. By the morning of April 4, the aggressive U.S. force was well inside the airport complex, and a containment pen had to be quickly constructed to secure the enemy prisoners.
There was a tall wall paralleling the north side of the highway servicing the airport -- on the battalion’s flank just behind the front lines. Smith decided to punch a hole in it, so that the inside walls would form two sides of a triangular enclosure, and the open third side could be closed off with rolls of concertina wire.
At Smith’s direction, an armored combat earthmover crashed through the wall and, while wire was being laid across the corner, one of his squad’s two armored vehicles moved toward a gate on the far side of the adjacent courtyard.
The Enemy Masses to Attack
When the driver pushed open the courtyard gate to open a field of fire, he immediately observed up to 100 enemy soldiers massed to attack. The only way out was the hole the engineers had put in the highway wall and the gate that faced the enemy, who began to open up on the U.S. troops with heavy fire --
Enemy soldiers stationed in trees and atop a nearby terrain-commanding tower fired a barrage of rocket-propelled grenades into the U.S ranks. An enemy mortar round hit the engineers’ lead armored vehicle, seriously wounding three soldiers inside.
Dodging fire, Smith helped evacuate them to an aid station, which was also coming under attack. The consummate professional, Smith promptly organized the engineers’ defenses, noting that all that stood between the attacking enemy and the task force’s vulnerable headquarters were about 15 to 20 troops.
A second armored vehicle was hit by an RPG, but was not completely knocked out of action. Simultaneously, enemy soldiers began charging from the courtyard gate or scaling a section of the wall, jumping into the courtyard, which had become a deadly trap.
Smith took personal command of the smoking and damaged second armored personnel carrier, maneuvering the big vehicle into a position where he could bring its heavy .50-caliber machinegun fire to bear on the determined enemy.
Another remarkable soldier on the field that day, First Sergeant Tim Campbell, realized that they had to knock out the Iraqi position in the enemy-held tower. After consulting with Smith, Campbell led two soldiers to take the tower. Armed only with a light machinegun, a rifle and a pistol with one magazine, the small force advanced behind the smoke of the tall grass that had caught fire from exploding ammunition.
Constantly exposed to heavy enemy fire, Smith resolutely stood by his machine gun, yelling for more ammunition three times during the fight. The warrior blasted through 400 rounds before he was struck down and mortally wounded by the withering small arms fire.
According to the citation, his sustained fire killed 20 to 50 Iraqis, allowing American wounded to be evacuated, saving the aid station -- as well as the task force headquarters.
Later, back in the U.S., the senior U.S. commander on the ground in Iraq, Lt. Gen. William S. Wallace, noted Smith’s actions in an emotional speech. Wallace described how Smith told his men, “Every time you hear the .50 caliber go silent, hand me up a can of ammo.”
"The gun went silent three times," recalled Wallace. The fourth time, there was no call for more ammo. Smith had died in the service of his country, personally credited with saving the lives of so many of his comrades.
A much-decorated veteran of the 1991 Persian Gulf War, Smith was a 33-year-old from Tampa, Florida. He left behind a wife, a son and a daughter.
To the Shores of Tripoli and the Purple Heart
No Auld Lang Zyne tribute to the warriors of the War on Terrorism would be complete without a focus on the noblest of fraternities: recipients of the Purple Heart Medal for wounds received in battle.
There’s no one best example. Perhaps, however, Navy Capt. Stephen F. McCartney wrote dramatically and best of the Purple Heart.
In his own powerful words, the surgeon describes an early American bloodletting -- from the dangerous vantage point of his surgical hospital at Camp Okinawa, Iraq, a place that sat precariously close to the salient of the U.S. land campaign that hammered forward to liberate Baghdad in Operation Iraqi Freedom.
There, he and other doctors, nurses and corpsmen in “MASH” fashion stood fast under an umbrella of scud missiles to tend to the wounded warriors of the Marine Corps.
On board the first CH-46 helicopter returning from the forward edge of the battle area, Capt. McCartney finds a young USMC officer.
“He is dead. Shot through the abdomen exiting in the lower back…
“It is controlled chaos. Calm determination describes our hospital company. All committed, all somewhat numbed. No one complains -- they just work. They all have the same blank look on their faces. They all remember the young officer. There is no more rationalizing, no more denials ... this is war…
“No one falters. A group of young Marines and a Navy corpsman arrive. All have leg injuries from landmines. The corpsman was blown up running to the aid of one of his injured Marines. Their muscular legs are horrifically deformed and shredded full of holes…
“Under the tent lights the shrapnel glistens and reflects from inside the wounds. The Marines are quiet, answering questions polite and dignified. Even their injuries and pain doesn't keep them from saying, ‘Yes ma'am, no ma'am’ or ‘Yes sir, no sir.’
“A helicopter drops off several USMC ambushed while taking an Iraqi surrender. Nine of their fellow ‘Devil-Dogs’ are dead. An RPG has killed a corpsman from our hospital during battle in Iraq. Many people know him from San Diego. He had two children and a wife. He was twenty-six. Alpha Company begins to hurt…
“A young Marine behind me is being lifted by the stretcher-bearers for a journey to surgery... He looks down from the stretcher at the large puddle of his blood underneath and apologizes to the nurse for leaving a mess behind. He says his mother taught him to always clean up after himself. Looking at his face, it is clear it could not have been all that long ago. He appeared barely 18. I asked myself ‘Where do these young men come from? What makes them able to do this?’
“The incoming patients continued for five to six days…
“One day we all apparently had the same epiphany, and to my knowledge we haven't spoken of the most painful events ever again. There just wasn't anything else to say. Words can't describe the feelings, so it's best to not speak about it anymore. Perhaps later the words will come.”
continued......
2003: A Season of Valor, Sacrifice - and Many Heroes
Dave Eberhart, NewsMax.com
Monday, Dec. 22, 2003
Profiling just a select few of the bravest of the brave in the War on Terrorism is a vexing project -- until these invariably modest warriors themselves show the way by crediting their remarkable exploits to teamwork and reminding us that all who serve on the frontlines of freedom are our country’s heroes.
Those that get singled out for our nation’s highest military decorations, in large measure, wear that decoration for all who have gone into harm’s way. Ask them, they’ll tell you so.
Remarkably, when NewsMax caught up with a couple of decorated heroes back from the fighting in Iraq, it wasn’t their own war stories that flowed, but the tale of valor of one of their own -- Sergeant First Class Paul Smith, Bravo Company, 11th Engineer Battalion of the 3rd Infantry Division, who died heroically leading his troops in battle Friday, April 4, 2003, in Baghdad, Iraq, during Operation Iraqi Freedom.
As NewsMax reported on Oct. 8, 2003, Smith is the first soldier recommended for the Medal of Honor, the country’s highest decoration for valor in combat, since the Global War on Terrorism combat period began.
Staff Sergeant Charles McNally, also of the 11th Engineers, told NewsMax, “I believe in my heart that he deserves and will get the award.” His friend and fellow combat veteran, Sergeant E-5 David S. Spooner said simply, “I agree.”
During Operation Iraqi Freedom, SFC Smith was a platoon sergeant/acting platoon leader in Bravo Company, which was in contact with Saddam’s forces nearly every day.
The drive on Baghdad from the south eventually carried the task force containing Smith’s parent 11th Engineers into Saddam International Airport. By the morning of April 4, the aggressive U.S. force was well inside the airport complex, and a containment pen had to be quickly constructed to secure the enemy prisoners.
There was a tall wall paralleling the north side of the highway servicing the airport -- on the battalion’s flank just behind the front lines. Smith decided to punch a hole in it, so that the inside walls would form two sides of a triangular enclosure, and the open third side could be closed off with rolls of concertina wire.
At Smith’s direction, an armored combat earthmover crashed through the wall and, while wire was being laid across the corner, one of his squad’s two armored vehicles moved toward a gate on the far side of the adjacent courtyard.
The Enemy Masses to Attack
When the driver pushed open the courtyard gate to open a field of fire, he immediately observed up to 100 enemy soldiers massed to attack. The only way out was the hole the engineers had put in the highway wall and the gate that faced the enemy, who began to open up on the U.S. troops with heavy fire --
Enemy soldiers stationed in trees and atop a nearby terrain-commanding tower fired a barrage of rocket-propelled grenades into the U.S ranks. An enemy mortar round hit the engineers’ lead armored vehicle, seriously wounding three soldiers inside.
Dodging fire, Smith helped evacuate them to an aid station, which was also coming under attack. The consummate professional, Smith promptly organized the engineers’ defenses, noting that all that stood between the attacking enemy and the task force’s vulnerable headquarters were about 15 to 20 troops.
A second armored vehicle was hit by an RPG, but was not completely knocked out of action. Simultaneously, enemy soldiers began charging from the courtyard gate or scaling a section of the wall, jumping into the courtyard, which had become a deadly trap.
Smith took personal command of the smoking and damaged second armored personnel carrier, maneuvering the big vehicle into a position where he could bring its heavy .50-caliber machinegun fire to bear on the determined enemy.
Another remarkable soldier on the field that day, First Sergeant Tim Campbell, realized that they had to knock out the Iraqi position in the enemy-held tower. After consulting with Smith, Campbell led two soldiers to take the tower. Armed only with a light machinegun, a rifle and a pistol with one magazine, the small force advanced behind the smoke of the tall grass that had caught fire from exploding ammunition.
Constantly exposed to heavy enemy fire, Smith resolutely stood by his machine gun, yelling for more ammunition three times during the fight. The warrior blasted through 400 rounds before he was struck down and mortally wounded by the withering small arms fire.
According to the citation, his sustained fire killed 20 to 50 Iraqis, allowing American wounded to be evacuated, saving the aid station -- as well as the task force headquarters.
Later, back in the U.S., the senior U.S. commander on the ground in Iraq, Lt. Gen. William S. Wallace, noted Smith’s actions in an emotional speech. Wallace described how Smith told his men, “Every time you hear the .50 caliber go silent, hand me up a can of ammo.”
"The gun went silent three times," recalled Wallace. The fourth time, there was no call for more ammo. Smith had died in the service of his country, personally credited with saving the lives of so many of his comrades.
A much-decorated veteran of the 1991 Persian Gulf War, Smith was a 33-year-old from Tampa, Florida. He left behind a wife, a son and a daughter.
To the Shores of Tripoli and the Purple Heart
No Auld Lang Zyne tribute to the warriors of the War on Terrorism would be complete without a focus on the noblest of fraternities: recipients of the Purple Heart Medal for wounds received in battle.
There’s no one best example. Perhaps, however, Navy Capt. Stephen F. McCartney wrote dramatically and best of the Purple Heart.
In his own powerful words, the surgeon describes an early American bloodletting -- from the dangerous vantage point of his surgical hospital at Camp Okinawa, Iraq, a place that sat precariously close to the salient of the U.S. land campaign that hammered forward to liberate Baghdad in Operation Iraqi Freedom.
There, he and other doctors, nurses and corpsmen in “MASH” fashion stood fast under an umbrella of scud missiles to tend to the wounded warriors of the Marine Corps.
On board the first CH-46 helicopter returning from the forward edge of the battle area, Capt. McCartney finds a young USMC officer.
“He is dead. Shot through the abdomen exiting in the lower back…
“It is controlled chaos. Calm determination describes our hospital company. All committed, all somewhat numbed. No one complains -- they just work. They all have the same blank look on their faces. They all remember the young officer. There is no more rationalizing, no more denials ... this is war…
“No one falters. A group of young Marines and a Navy corpsman arrive. All have leg injuries from landmines. The corpsman was blown up running to the aid of one of his injured Marines. Their muscular legs are horrifically deformed and shredded full of holes…
“Under the tent lights the shrapnel glistens and reflects from inside the wounds. The Marines are quiet, answering questions polite and dignified. Even their injuries and pain doesn't keep them from saying, ‘Yes ma'am, no ma'am’ or ‘Yes sir, no sir.’
“A helicopter drops off several USMC ambushed while taking an Iraqi surrender. Nine of their fellow ‘Devil-Dogs’ are dead. An RPG has killed a corpsman from our hospital during battle in Iraq. Many people know him from San Diego. He had two children and a wife. He was twenty-six. Alpha Company begins to hurt…
“A young Marine behind me is being lifted by the stretcher-bearers for a journey to surgery... He looks down from the stretcher at the large puddle of his blood underneath and apologizes to the nurse for leaving a mess behind. He says his mother taught him to always clean up after himself. Looking at his face, it is clear it could not have been all that long ago. He appeared barely 18. I asked myself ‘Where do these young men come from? What makes them able to do this?’
“The incoming patients continued for five to six days…
“One day we all apparently had the same epiphany, and to my knowledge we haven't spoken of the most painful events ever again. There just wasn't anything else to say. Words can't describe the feelings, so it's best to not speak about it anymore. Perhaps later the words will come.”
continued......