thedrifter
04-08-03, 12:55 PM
Marines patrol urban areas of Baghdad after nightfall
By Evan Osnos, Chicago Tribune
European edition, Tuesday, April 8, 2003
OUTSKIRTS OF BAGHDAD, Iraq — Crouched on a darkening street corner, a fresh donkey carcass on one side and a tank-blasted pickup truck on the other, Cmdr. Dan Healey clicked on his radio to advise the several dozen infantrymen scattered throughout the blocks around him.
"It's getting dark now," he said. "What we're looking for is an aggressive, mobile and active defense. Do what you can to get some rest, but better to step off tired tomorrow morning than to never step off at all."
For the men of Baker Company, Monday night was an introduction to the reality of a 24-hour war that has arrived in Iraq's sprawling capital.
The troops never wanted to be here after sunset. The plan was for the 7th Marine regiment to push through this squalid slum on Baghdad's southeast edge Monday afternoon to a less congested and more secure part of the city better suited to spending the night.
But when their convoy of tanks, armored vehicles and Humvees reached two bridges they hoped to cross into the capital, they found the canal crossings blown apart by Iraqi forces. Facing scattered artillery and small-arms fire, most of the Marine force headed back to a secure area in the suburbs, but someone had to watch the route, and that job fell to 1st Battalion's Baker Company. Nobody was leaping at the prospect.
"If it was not for the urban area, I would not be concerned," Healey said. "But the situation requires us to be as spread out as we are. We're just hoping that by having an active posture during the daylight that it will help us at night."
As they had driven into the area that afternoon, the terrain had shifted suddenly from the jumbled suburban landscape of gardens and single-family homes into a maze of brick apartment blocks and twisting alleys. Far more notable, however, was that for the first time since crossing the Iraqi border March 21, the men and women peering at them from the road's edge were no longer waving.
"You get this side; I'll cover that side," Staff Sgt. Dan Falcone shouted to other men aboard his Amtrac as it clanked and weaved through the cramped streets. To the Marines' eyes, the area was a tangle of hiding places and dangers — piles of rubble on a rooftop, an opening in a window. Huey helicopters swooped and banked overhead and artillery thudded in the distance.
The sporadic crack of machine-gun fire echoed off the tan brick houses. The Marines were on edge because of an advisory that had come over the radio moments earlier: Look out for ambulances that could be carrying suicide bombers. If they don't follow instructions to stop, shoot at them, the advisory stated.
A burst of gunfire around a street corner raised a request for information on the radio.
"What are they shooting at?" Lt. Aaron Lloyd asked.
"The bad people," replied Staff Sgt. Jerry Moss.
"Did they hit them?" Lloyd asked after a pause.
"I hope so," Moss said.
As night fell, a patrol through a housing complex uncovered 30 rocket-propelled grenades and a collection of mortars that had been booby-trapped, Healey said. The munitions were believed to be an arms cache of the Special Republican Guard or militia troops believed to be active in the area.
Under a moonless sky, squads with night-vision equipment patrolled through narrow alleys, into dense housing complexes and onto exposed rooftops, while others kept nervous watch over their amphibious assault vehicles.
"This is our nightmare," Lloyd said of the vehicles that he commands. "No maneuverability. No way to see. So you're just sitting here, waiting."
As dusk settled over them, Cpl. Ryan Birrell stepped gingerly over an open sewer and motioned for his squad of seven Marines to scan the rooftops around them. They passed a row of shuttered stores, as an M1 tank rumbled slowly behind them, using its thermal sights to scan for snipers and other threats that could be missed in the fading light.
"Get back in the building!" Birrell shouted at a group of men who hurried back into a mosque. The patrol wound through three more streets before returning to the cluster of vehicles serving as a command post for the evening and settled into the darkened corners to wait for their next patrol.
Sempers,
Roger
By Evan Osnos, Chicago Tribune
European edition, Tuesday, April 8, 2003
OUTSKIRTS OF BAGHDAD, Iraq — Crouched on a darkening street corner, a fresh donkey carcass on one side and a tank-blasted pickup truck on the other, Cmdr. Dan Healey clicked on his radio to advise the several dozen infantrymen scattered throughout the blocks around him.
"It's getting dark now," he said. "What we're looking for is an aggressive, mobile and active defense. Do what you can to get some rest, but better to step off tired tomorrow morning than to never step off at all."
For the men of Baker Company, Monday night was an introduction to the reality of a 24-hour war that has arrived in Iraq's sprawling capital.
The troops never wanted to be here after sunset. The plan was for the 7th Marine regiment to push through this squalid slum on Baghdad's southeast edge Monday afternoon to a less congested and more secure part of the city better suited to spending the night.
But when their convoy of tanks, armored vehicles and Humvees reached two bridges they hoped to cross into the capital, they found the canal crossings blown apart by Iraqi forces. Facing scattered artillery and small-arms fire, most of the Marine force headed back to a secure area in the suburbs, but someone had to watch the route, and that job fell to 1st Battalion's Baker Company. Nobody was leaping at the prospect.
"If it was not for the urban area, I would not be concerned," Healey said. "But the situation requires us to be as spread out as we are. We're just hoping that by having an active posture during the daylight that it will help us at night."
As they had driven into the area that afternoon, the terrain had shifted suddenly from the jumbled suburban landscape of gardens and single-family homes into a maze of brick apartment blocks and twisting alleys. Far more notable, however, was that for the first time since crossing the Iraqi border March 21, the men and women peering at them from the road's edge were no longer waving.
"You get this side; I'll cover that side," Staff Sgt. Dan Falcone shouted to other men aboard his Amtrac as it clanked and weaved through the cramped streets. To the Marines' eyes, the area was a tangle of hiding places and dangers — piles of rubble on a rooftop, an opening in a window. Huey helicopters swooped and banked overhead and artillery thudded in the distance.
The sporadic crack of machine-gun fire echoed off the tan brick houses. The Marines were on edge because of an advisory that had come over the radio moments earlier: Look out for ambulances that could be carrying suicide bombers. If they don't follow instructions to stop, shoot at them, the advisory stated.
A burst of gunfire around a street corner raised a request for information on the radio.
"What are they shooting at?" Lt. Aaron Lloyd asked.
"The bad people," replied Staff Sgt. Jerry Moss.
"Did they hit them?" Lloyd asked after a pause.
"I hope so," Moss said.
As night fell, a patrol through a housing complex uncovered 30 rocket-propelled grenades and a collection of mortars that had been booby-trapped, Healey said. The munitions were believed to be an arms cache of the Special Republican Guard or militia troops believed to be active in the area.
Under a moonless sky, squads with night-vision equipment patrolled through narrow alleys, into dense housing complexes and onto exposed rooftops, while others kept nervous watch over their amphibious assault vehicles.
"This is our nightmare," Lloyd said of the vehicles that he commands. "No maneuverability. No way to see. So you're just sitting here, waiting."
As dusk settled over them, Cpl. Ryan Birrell stepped gingerly over an open sewer and motioned for his squad of seven Marines to scan the rooftops around them. They passed a row of shuttered stores, as an M1 tank rumbled slowly behind them, using its thermal sights to scan for snipers and other threats that could be missed in the fading light.
"Get back in the building!" Birrell shouted at a group of men who hurried back into a mosque. The patrol wound through three more streets before returning to the cluster of vehicles serving as a command post for the evening and settled into the darkened corners to wait for their next patrol.
Sempers,
Roger