thedrifter
09-30-05, 06:25 AM
Carlson: Night convoy to Ramadi is one tense trip
By JOHN CARLSON
REGISTER COLUMNIST
September 30, 2005
Fallujah, Iraq — There's no moon this September night in Fallujah, and that's good. The pitch dark will make the Marines harder to see as they move the 50-truck convoy west to Ramadi.
It's 45 miles, one of the most dangerous drives on Earth. Especially this night. Insurgents hit a convoy with five improvised explosive devices just outside Fallujah the previous night. Now, these 27 Marines and two Navy corpsmen are checking their weapons, ammunition and radios before leading the convoy of supplies to the American military base at Ramadi.
Master Sgt. Kenneth Mack of Fort Worth, Texas, the convoy commander, gives the briefing. Some of it is routine, because so many have heard it before. But there will be nothing routine about taking this particular trip. These guys could be hit, and they know it.
"We have a proactive mentality tonight," Mack tells the Marines. "We're not defensive. We're looking for them. We see them, what do we do? We kill them. We're not out there to exchange potshots with these people. Get a positive ID on them. Then kill them. If they give away their position, light 'em up."
The room is full of helmets, vests, ammo and radios. It has the musty, sweaty smell of a football locker room. Nobody is messing around in here. No smart remarks. Just Mack telling his Marines what to expect.
Aerial photos and maps show the route. Threat areas are humps along the road, potholes, bridges and overpasses. A Marine from the intelligence section says it's been a bad few days where they're headed. She talks about a bridge where attacks have been launched.
"It's dangerous tonight out there, guys," she says.
Mack thanks her and has one final word for the Marines.
"If they shoot at us, I want them dead."
The convoy — commercial semis driven by civilians from all over the world — leaves the Marine base at Fallujah at 11 p.m. There's no doubt insurgents will watch as they pass by. No doubt the vehicles will be targeted if insurgents think they can detonate a bomb or launch a rocket and survive.
The Marine vehicles — Humvee gun trucks and armored trucks — drive in total blackout conditions. No headlights. Night vision goggles make it possible for drivers to see the road and Marines to see what goes on in the night. It's why Marines lead these convoys at night. They can see. Their vehicles are difficult to spot.
Mack rides in the right-front seat of Gun Truck 2. He has a console-mounted computer screen giving the convoy's position on a lighted map. Colin O'Meally of Miami is the driver. Radio operator Alexander Jaime of Lawrence, Mass., is in the right-rear seat. Andy Underwood of St. Louis stands the whole trip, manning the .50-caliber machine gun.
They don't chat or kid. About anything. Every eye is on the landscape. Every communication relates to truck spacing and security.
Gun Truck 1 leads the convoy, spotting holes in the road and suspicious debris where IEDs might be hidden. The Marines talk constantly on the radio.
"Debris on the right side of the road, marked with a chem light," comes a voice from Gun 1 over the radio. The Marines in the vehicle are tossing out the glowing green cylinders to show the spots of possible danger to trucks that follow.
"Friendlies on the overpass," Gun 1 says.
The friendlies are Marines who have stationed themselves miles ahead, protecting the convoy at overpasses and bridges. Sometimes they pull Humvees 100 yards or so off the road in the desert. They are impossible to see without night vision goggles.
Word comes that there's a problem at the rear of the convoy. A 1,000-yard gap has opened up between some of the semitrailer trucks. A few are carrying loads too heavy for the trucks. Mack orders the convoy to slow, then to stop.
Every truck and Marine vehicle is there, on the highway, an easy target. Every Marine is scanning the countryside with the night vision goggles. The truck gap closes. The convoy moves on, but top speed is barely 30 mph.
Without goggles, it is absolutely impossible to make out details or even see highway overpasses in the distance. Gun 1 gives a "friendlies on the overpass" call. The only things visible to a rider without goggles are the glowing chem lights.
The predicted one-hour trip has turned to two hours. Then two and a half.
Nearly three hours after leaving Fallujah, the lights of Ramadi glow on the horizon. The trucks make a left into the American military camp. The trip is over. No explosions. No shots fired.
It's almost a surprise, given the briefing. Mack says insurgents are learning not to engage the gun trucks. Still, some try to plant IEDs, then sit nearby and detonate them as the vehicles pass over.
The Marines have a prevention program that has proven to work.
"I've done this," Mack says. "You conceal yourself in an area that's a likely place for an IED plant. Then you watch. I'll tell you what's normal. Somebody walks up and drops a rock on a spot on the road and walks away. Somebody else comes along and digs a little hole. Then he walks away. Somebody else puts the device in there and leaves. Somebody else comes along and hooks up the wires and covers up the hole. Then somebody hides and sets it off with a cordless phone."
Whom does the Marine sniper kill?
"Take your pick," Mack says, standing on the road outside Camp Ramadi, watching the long line of trucks move through the gate.
It was a safe trip. No incidents. The insurgents chose not to attack the Marines this night. At least on the trip west. Now, they're loading up and heading back to Fallujah. They'll be there in less than an hour, assuming all goes well.
Ellie
By JOHN CARLSON
REGISTER COLUMNIST
September 30, 2005
Fallujah, Iraq — There's no moon this September night in Fallujah, and that's good. The pitch dark will make the Marines harder to see as they move the 50-truck convoy west to Ramadi.
It's 45 miles, one of the most dangerous drives on Earth. Especially this night. Insurgents hit a convoy with five improvised explosive devices just outside Fallujah the previous night. Now, these 27 Marines and two Navy corpsmen are checking their weapons, ammunition and radios before leading the convoy of supplies to the American military base at Ramadi.
Master Sgt. Kenneth Mack of Fort Worth, Texas, the convoy commander, gives the briefing. Some of it is routine, because so many have heard it before. But there will be nothing routine about taking this particular trip. These guys could be hit, and they know it.
"We have a proactive mentality tonight," Mack tells the Marines. "We're not defensive. We're looking for them. We see them, what do we do? We kill them. We're not out there to exchange potshots with these people. Get a positive ID on them. Then kill them. If they give away their position, light 'em up."
The room is full of helmets, vests, ammo and radios. It has the musty, sweaty smell of a football locker room. Nobody is messing around in here. No smart remarks. Just Mack telling his Marines what to expect.
Aerial photos and maps show the route. Threat areas are humps along the road, potholes, bridges and overpasses. A Marine from the intelligence section says it's been a bad few days where they're headed. She talks about a bridge where attacks have been launched.
"It's dangerous tonight out there, guys," she says.
Mack thanks her and has one final word for the Marines.
"If they shoot at us, I want them dead."
The convoy — commercial semis driven by civilians from all over the world — leaves the Marine base at Fallujah at 11 p.m. There's no doubt insurgents will watch as they pass by. No doubt the vehicles will be targeted if insurgents think they can detonate a bomb or launch a rocket and survive.
The Marine vehicles — Humvee gun trucks and armored trucks — drive in total blackout conditions. No headlights. Night vision goggles make it possible for drivers to see the road and Marines to see what goes on in the night. It's why Marines lead these convoys at night. They can see. Their vehicles are difficult to spot.
Mack rides in the right-front seat of Gun Truck 2. He has a console-mounted computer screen giving the convoy's position on a lighted map. Colin O'Meally of Miami is the driver. Radio operator Alexander Jaime of Lawrence, Mass., is in the right-rear seat. Andy Underwood of St. Louis stands the whole trip, manning the .50-caliber machine gun.
They don't chat or kid. About anything. Every eye is on the landscape. Every communication relates to truck spacing and security.
Gun Truck 1 leads the convoy, spotting holes in the road and suspicious debris where IEDs might be hidden. The Marines talk constantly on the radio.
"Debris on the right side of the road, marked with a chem light," comes a voice from Gun 1 over the radio. The Marines in the vehicle are tossing out the glowing green cylinders to show the spots of possible danger to trucks that follow.
"Friendlies on the overpass," Gun 1 says.
The friendlies are Marines who have stationed themselves miles ahead, protecting the convoy at overpasses and bridges. Sometimes they pull Humvees 100 yards or so off the road in the desert. They are impossible to see without night vision goggles.
Word comes that there's a problem at the rear of the convoy. A 1,000-yard gap has opened up between some of the semitrailer trucks. A few are carrying loads too heavy for the trucks. Mack orders the convoy to slow, then to stop.
Every truck and Marine vehicle is there, on the highway, an easy target. Every Marine is scanning the countryside with the night vision goggles. The truck gap closes. The convoy moves on, but top speed is barely 30 mph.
Without goggles, it is absolutely impossible to make out details or even see highway overpasses in the distance. Gun 1 gives a "friendlies on the overpass" call. The only things visible to a rider without goggles are the glowing chem lights.
The predicted one-hour trip has turned to two hours. Then two and a half.
Nearly three hours after leaving Fallujah, the lights of Ramadi glow on the horizon. The trucks make a left into the American military camp. The trip is over. No explosions. No shots fired.
It's almost a surprise, given the briefing. Mack says insurgents are learning not to engage the gun trucks. Still, some try to plant IEDs, then sit nearby and detonate them as the vehicles pass over.
The Marines have a prevention program that has proven to work.
"I've done this," Mack says. "You conceal yourself in an area that's a likely place for an IED plant. Then you watch. I'll tell you what's normal. Somebody walks up and drops a rock on a spot on the road and walks away. Somebody else comes along and digs a little hole. Then he walks away. Somebody else puts the device in there and leaves. Somebody else comes along and hooks up the wires and covers up the hole. Then somebody hides and sets it off with a cordless phone."
Whom does the Marine sniper kill?
"Take your pick," Mack says, standing on the road outside Camp Ramadi, watching the long line of trucks move through the gate.
It was a safe trip. No incidents. The insurgents chose not to attack the Marines this night. At least on the trip west. Now, they're loading up and heading back to Fallujah. They'll be there in less than an hour, assuming all goes well.
Ellie