marinefamily5
05-12-05, 10:06 AM
'Floor It!' GI Shouts Amid Hail Of Gunfire
Marines in Iraq race to rescue a stranded tank crew, only to make a wrong turn into the enemy's cross hairs
By James Janega, Tribune staff reporter
AL QAIM, Iraq -- For more than a day and much of the night, the M-1 Abrams tank sat disabled in the desert, hobbled by an anti-tank mine. The main battle had pushed to the north, across the Euphrates River and west toward the Syrian border.
A handful of Marines and another Abrams had stayed behind with the damaged tank to wait for help, and now help was on the way.
But as the column of armored vehicles raced toward the scene early Tuesday, it took a wrong turn in the darkness and unfamiliar terrain and wound up in the cross hairs of an insurgent ambush. The Marines sent to the rescue needed help themselves.
The tanks were rolling through the town of Karabilah on the Euphrates' south bank about 1 a.m. when Lance Cpl. James Sutton, a 20-year-old tank driver from Wyoming, Ill., spotted men lurking atop several buildings. He said he could not pick out the details--his infrared scope, used to give him night vision, showed the men only as silhouettes against the sky.
But then his screen bloomed with black blotches signaling the heat of muzzle flashes. Tiny black dots--bullets--streamed toward his tank and the armored Humvees ahead of him.
"It was a big mess," recalled Sutton as he and other Marines from Alpha Company, 1st Marine Tank Battalion recounted what had happened on the mission upon their return to the main Marine base at Al Qaim.
Elsewhere in the column, Sgt. Jeremy Archila, 27, of Fremont, Calif., watched from the machine-gun turret of his M88-A2 tank-recovery vehicle as the rifles erupted. The buildings along the roadside looked as if sparklers were hanging from almost every window, he said.
"Pretty much everything went to hell," he said.
As the American vehicles screeched to a halt and hurriedly began U-turning in the road, the insurgents began firing rocket-propelled grenades--"big red streams that just shoot down and scream," Archila said.
And then out of nowhere, a suicide bomber in a white pickup truck sped into the column, exploding his vehicle next to a Humvee in front of Archila.
The gunfire intensified and then almost miraculously slowed as Archila's crew ran to the burning Humvee and pulled out the four wounded Marines inside, he said.
Three of them wound up inside Archila's vehicle, along with the five regular crew members. Eight men dressed in full combat gear now were packed into a space the size of a regular mini-van, but with far less head room.
Archila said he gave his seat to one of the wounded men. With no where else to go, he opened his hatch and crouched behind the big .50-caliber machine gun, hoping it would give him some protection as the rifle fire from the rooftops started up again.
The column sped up, threading its way through narrow streets with only feet to spare on either side, the Marines recalled.
But as they turned down a side street, Archila's recovery vehicle ran over another anti-tank mine.
The explosion knocked Archila into the armored cabin, and his mechanic tumbled into him. The man's helmet and goggles had been blown from his head, but he staggered to his feet, stuck his torso out of his hatch and began to fire back with his M-16 rifle.
The inside of the armored vehicle reeked of leaking diesel fuel. Someone asked if they should fire anti-tank rockets at the buildings. Archila said no; any spark could ignite the diesel fumes. Though the vehicle's right track was severely damaged, Archila shouted over the gunfire: "Floor it!"
Even though Lance Cpl. Adolfo Castro's infrared scope was blinded by smoke, he responded, pushing the damaged vehicle as fast as he could.
"When the smoke cleared, I found myself zigzagging in and out of telephone poles," recalled Castro, 20, from Kansas City, Kan.
Somehow, the men recalled, the crippled tank-recovery vehicle cleared the buildings. And then it ground to a halt.
Sutton's tank towed the damaged recovery vehicle to a safe zone--coincidentally near the damaged tank they had gone to recover long hours before.
Within minutes, Black Hawk helicopters evacuated the wounded Marines. Soon after, undamaged tanks towed the broken M88 and Abrams back to the Marine base at Al Qaim, about 5 miles away.
While fellow Marines fought on the north side of the river, part of an ongoing offensive aimed at insurgents based in this rugged corner of Iraq's Jazirah Desert, the rescuers congratulated themselves on what Archila described as a successful mission.
Marines in Iraq race to rescue a stranded tank crew, only to make a wrong turn into the enemy's cross hairs
By James Janega, Tribune staff reporter
AL QAIM, Iraq -- For more than a day and much of the night, the M-1 Abrams tank sat disabled in the desert, hobbled by an anti-tank mine. The main battle had pushed to the north, across the Euphrates River and west toward the Syrian border.
A handful of Marines and another Abrams had stayed behind with the damaged tank to wait for help, and now help was on the way.
But as the column of armored vehicles raced toward the scene early Tuesday, it took a wrong turn in the darkness and unfamiliar terrain and wound up in the cross hairs of an insurgent ambush. The Marines sent to the rescue needed help themselves.
The tanks were rolling through the town of Karabilah on the Euphrates' south bank about 1 a.m. when Lance Cpl. James Sutton, a 20-year-old tank driver from Wyoming, Ill., spotted men lurking atop several buildings. He said he could not pick out the details--his infrared scope, used to give him night vision, showed the men only as silhouettes against the sky.
But then his screen bloomed with black blotches signaling the heat of muzzle flashes. Tiny black dots--bullets--streamed toward his tank and the armored Humvees ahead of him.
"It was a big mess," recalled Sutton as he and other Marines from Alpha Company, 1st Marine Tank Battalion recounted what had happened on the mission upon their return to the main Marine base at Al Qaim.
Elsewhere in the column, Sgt. Jeremy Archila, 27, of Fremont, Calif., watched from the machine-gun turret of his M88-A2 tank-recovery vehicle as the rifles erupted. The buildings along the roadside looked as if sparklers were hanging from almost every window, he said.
"Pretty much everything went to hell," he said.
As the American vehicles screeched to a halt and hurriedly began U-turning in the road, the insurgents began firing rocket-propelled grenades--"big red streams that just shoot down and scream," Archila said.
And then out of nowhere, a suicide bomber in a white pickup truck sped into the column, exploding his vehicle next to a Humvee in front of Archila.
The gunfire intensified and then almost miraculously slowed as Archila's crew ran to the burning Humvee and pulled out the four wounded Marines inside, he said.
Three of them wound up inside Archila's vehicle, along with the five regular crew members. Eight men dressed in full combat gear now were packed into a space the size of a regular mini-van, but with far less head room.
Archila said he gave his seat to one of the wounded men. With no where else to go, he opened his hatch and crouched behind the big .50-caliber machine gun, hoping it would give him some protection as the rifle fire from the rooftops started up again.
The column sped up, threading its way through narrow streets with only feet to spare on either side, the Marines recalled.
But as they turned down a side street, Archila's recovery vehicle ran over another anti-tank mine.
The explosion knocked Archila into the armored cabin, and his mechanic tumbled into him. The man's helmet and goggles had been blown from his head, but he staggered to his feet, stuck his torso out of his hatch and began to fire back with his M-16 rifle.
The inside of the armored vehicle reeked of leaking diesel fuel. Someone asked if they should fire anti-tank rockets at the buildings. Archila said no; any spark could ignite the diesel fumes. Though the vehicle's right track was severely damaged, Archila shouted over the gunfire: "Floor it!"
Even though Lance Cpl. Adolfo Castro's infrared scope was blinded by smoke, he responded, pushing the damaged vehicle as fast as he could.
"When the smoke cleared, I found myself zigzagging in and out of telephone poles," recalled Castro, 20, from Kansas City, Kan.
Somehow, the men recalled, the crippled tank-recovery vehicle cleared the buildings. And then it ground to a halt.
Sutton's tank towed the damaged recovery vehicle to a safe zone--coincidentally near the damaged tank they had gone to recover long hours before.
Within minutes, Black Hawk helicopters evacuated the wounded Marines. Soon after, undamaged tanks towed the broken M88 and Abrams back to the Marine base at Al Qaim, about 5 miles away.
While fellow Marines fought on the north side of the river, part of an ongoing offensive aimed at insurgents based in this rugged corner of Iraq's Jazirah Desert, the rescuers congratulated themselves on what Archila described as a successful mission.