Licensed to Kill (20 page)

The U.S. military apparently had larger worries than what was going on in Najaf that day. In an apparent uprising in defense of Moqtada al-Sadr, armed attacks had popped up all over the country. Fighting had also commenced in Fallujah. When the Apaches flew over assessing the situation, they must have determined that the tiny force inside the compound could handle the resistance they faced. A Navy helicopter did come by in the early evening to lay down some fire, but the heaviest of the battle had ceased by then.

“They fought all day and all night. When you read the press reports, it sounds like the military was there and Blackwater just happened to be there, but it was a Blackwater PSD in the shit—even the civilians pitched in. There were eight people defending that compound…. eight,” the contractor emphasized.

“The army wouldn't help,” Steve, the Little Bird pilot, remembers, “so we got busy.” Steve had been back at the Blackwater Aviation headquarters in Baghdad when the call came in reporting that his fellow contractors were under siege in Najaf and that one marine had been wounded. The contractors started loading up three Little Birds with supplies, and Steve went to see a marine commanding officer he knew to ask permission to medevac a wounded marine back to the Baghdad hospital. Even though the CO had assented, Steve's actions still got him in trouble with the State Department. “The boy lived, but there were some folks who weren't happy and told me that they would make sure I wouldn't get paid. I told them to go right ahead and take it out of my paycheck,” he says angrily. Steve was supposed to be a civilian pilot flying support for the Bremer security detail, but when his comrades needed help, he felt he had no choice but respond—even if it meant bending the rules.

Top commander in Iraq Lieutenant General Ricardo Sanchez, and his spokeman, Brigadier General Mark Kimmitt, arrived the next day to survey the aftermath of the battle and to speak in heroic terms about the fighters who had held off the insurgents. Kimmitt stated to the press, “I know on a rooftop yesterday in An Najaf, with a small group of American soldiers and coalition soldiers, Spanish soldiers and Salvadoran soldiers who had just been through about three and a half hours of combat—I looked in their eyes, there was no crisis. They knew what they were here for. They'd lost three wounded. We were sitting there among the bullet shells, the bullet casings, and frankly, the blood of their comrades, and they were absolutely confident.”

They made no mention that Blackwater contractors carried the majority of the fighting and that Blackwater Aviation had provided the only supporting resupply and medevac flights. The military seemed to fear what was happening—Blackwater Security versus the Mahdi Army while the U.S. military stood by watching—essentially an American mercenary militia battling an Iraqi mercenary militia. While the rules of engagement allowed contractors to fire in defense of their lives, the formulators of those rules had not anticipated contractors being dropped into a situation where they would have to engage in hours of combat without outside support. The other outcome that became very clear was that ex-soldiers given a license to kill may choose not to cut and run as they are trained and paid to do, but eagerly and repeatedly fire into the crowds that surround them.

The next day, however, two more groups of contractors would come under fire in the town of Al Kut and would fight an intense and losing battle until they could secure their withdrawal.

Al Kut

Located about a hundred miles south of Baghdad right on the Tigris River, Al Kut is a mostly Shia city, and its roughly three hundred thousand inhabitants make it comparable in size to Fallujah. Al Kut had been taken over by the marines in April 2003, and early attempts by the clergy to take control of the city's security were gently defused. The Shia of Al Kut had no love for Saddam—particularly since he had brutally cracked down on them following the Shia uprising after the first Gulf War—but they also bristled under the rule of American occupiers, though armed attacks were infrequent. When marines handed the town over to a small peacekeeping force of Poles and Ukrainian troops in the fall of 2003, it was heralded as a model for pacification in other cities across Iraq.

The CPA had set up their headquarters on the banks of the Tigris across from the city in a compound that included an appropriated hotel and a number of other buildings. Paul Bremer had established a Regional Governance Project, which included an intelligence-gathering component, and the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID) had contracted North Carolina–based RTI (Research Triangle Development, Inc.) to help develop a system of governance for the region. The governate coordinator (GC), Marc Etherington, was to interface with local leaders and be point man on local reconstruction efforts on behalf of Paul Bremer. A handful of Ukrainian and Polish troops stayed at the compound, but most lived on a military base about a half hour away.

KBR had a contingent tasked with construction and fortification of the compound and had hired a British company, Control Risks Group (CRG), to provide for their personal security. On March 15, 2004, Triple Canopy took control of the overall security of the CPA compound. They hired sixty-nine Iraqi guards from the surrounding area and stocked in weapons, ammunition, and communications equipment. Despite the rosy projections by CPA headquarters, things were not going well in Al Kut. Posters had gone up around town charging the RTI operation with being a Zionist and CIA-backed organization. Local leaders had asked the RTI and CPA component, along with the Ukrainian soldiers, to withdraw their people from the area.

Few local residents had jobs, even fewer had money, and the CPA was the most glaring example of American occupation. A not-insignificant percentage of the Shia community was growing impatient with the American presence, and leaders like Moqtada al-Sadr had successfully amplified their anger and frustration. Well-organized and motivated protesters gathering outside the CPA gates became a common sight. They carried flags of allegiance to Moqtada al-Sadr and followed young men with bullhorns in anti-American chants. The Iraqis, especially the Shia, had taken up protesting almost as a national sport. They were usually peaceful, if vocal, and most were ignored.

On April 5, the demonstration was a little different. After a number of Sadr-inspired armed attacks, such as at Najaf the day prior, Paul Bremer had declared Sadr an outlaw and warned that his recent spate of uprisings would not be tolerated. CPA authorities also finally made public the secret arrest warrant an Iraqi judge had issued for Sadr in August 2003, giving further provocation for pro-Sadr protesters to turn to violence. Iraqi employees of RTI had called early in the morning to warn that the day's demonstrations would be far more serious than before and that an attack could be launched that night. The group of protesters that had numbered a couple hundred a few days before had grown to over a thousand, and AK-47s and RPG launchers could be seen bobbing up and down above the crowd. Inside the city, Mahdi Army militiamen and other angry young Iraqi men were gathering. A mob had blocked the bridge spanning the Tigris leading into the city from near the CPA compound, and the GC requested the Ukrainians secure the location. Etherington soon learned that the militia had also seized the local government offices, television station, and traffic control points. Reports were coming in that the local police were quitting in droves, with some of them just changing out of their uniforms to join the militia—all ominous developments.

When John Turner, the head of the Triple Canopy security detail, heard these reports, he put the compound on high alert. Turner soon learned that he had other problems—many of his locally hired guards had not shown up for work that morning, and others had since abandoned their posts. Some had left with their radios and weapons. His security force decimated, Turner sent out a call for reinforcements from Hillah. KBR sent home all their local workers, except three translators, and instructed other employees to prepare for a siege. Water and ammunition were broken out of boxes and stacked in places of last resort. They packed the SUVs for evacuation and filled “bug out” bags with a two-day supply of food and water. The staff was told to put on armor and helmets, if they had them, and everyone received instructions that in a worst-case scenario they should retreat to the hotel—the most secured structure in the compound. The four KBR and eight RTI employees, four CRG and six Triple Canopy security contractors, six CPA staff members, four Polish and thirty-five Ukrainian soldiers hunkered down and waited for an onslaught to begin.

When word reached Paul Bremer that one of his CPA offices was on high alert, he warned that whoever was sending the urgent appeals should tone down the wording on their communications. The GC echoed that concern and characterized the event to his boss as just a small clash with a group of fifty or so teenagers.

But as the sun climbed in the sky, bad news continued to pour in. The Mahdi Army had given notice at the Ukrainian military base that all coalition forces and representatives should pull out within twenty-four hours or face attack. Local intel sources reported that insurgents were preparing a red Opel and a white Opel as car bombs for demolition against the CPA compound. At one point, a car made a run at the front gate to test their response, then turned around and did it again. On the other side of the river, men were assembling near the police station with RPGs pointed at the compound. This infuriated the security teams because they had told the GC, Marc Etherington, many times that the compound needed high concrete barriers, or T-walls, to protect the river side from enemy fire. The British diplomat in charge of the compound, however, had not recognized the security threat and thought the ugly concrete walls would block the view of the river.

At 2:30
P
.
M
., Bremer's office once again demanded that KBR stop mentioning the CPA in their e-mails. Baffled that the Americans snuggled safely in the Palace in the Green Zone would respond to their requests for help with instructions to stop exaggerating the situation, those hunkered down in the compound began to feel abandoned.

Just after 3:00
P
.
M
., Triple Canopy's John Turner assembled the staff for a tersely worded briefing. Things were not looking good in the city of Al Kut. The police had surrendered control of the town to approximately three hundred members of the Mahdi Army, who had looted their weapons and equipment. The nearest contingent of coalition forces—the Ukrainian and Polish peacekeepers—were refusing to leave their base, and it didn't look like they could expect any support from the Americans.

The small group of civilian and security contractors and the remaining Polish and Ukrainian soldiers were completely cut off from escape. The KBR employees were now turned into soldiers as Triple Canopy distributed weapons and ammo. Although Turner explained that the arms were strictly for self-defense, they had in effect been drafted into defending the U.S. base. The decision was made to move into the hotel, since the perimeter was impossible to defend.

As the sun began to fade, they started generators to light the compound. Everyone was in lockdown mode—eating MREs (meals ready to eat) in the hotel, guns loaded, just waiting for the first shot. Then it began. A large blast just after ten o'clock rocked the compound, startling everyone. Then nothing. Ears straining. Eyes scanning. Just a wake-up call.

As the night progressed, the KBR team members took turns on watch, but the hours of darkness passed without incident.

After a sleepless and stressful night, April 6 began with a handful of Iraqi Triple Canopy guards and seventeen local KBR and RTI employees showing up at the gate for work. They knew why the staff was wearing armor and helmets, but they went about their work maintaining the compound and equipment until they were dismissed before 10:00
A
.
M
. Around midmorning, fifteen Iraqis sent in as reinforcements from Triple Canopy's Hillah operation arrived. As former Free Iraqi Forces vets, they were expected to stand up better than the locals who had run away. Around 11:00
A
.
M
., those in the compound began to hear the sound of gunfire coming from across the river—Ukrainian reinforcements had finally come off their base to try and take the bridge back from the militia. The fighting built in size and swelled with the large booms of RPG fire. The insurgents had aimed a few RPGs at the CPA compound, but they were poorly aimed and fell short.

Across the river from the CPA compound, a house used by HART security was in the unfortunate position of being right on the front line of positions set up by the Mahdi Army. In the house, South African Gray Branfield, an experienced ex-member of the Rhodesian and South African police, briefed a four-man HART security team that had just arrived from Amarah. Gray recounted four RPG rounds fired at the CPA between noon and 12:30, along with sporadic gunfire that seemed to be aimed at the CPA from a location behind their house. Just after 12:30, another RPG went off and the team discovered that two doors down to the right, the education building was being used as a base to mount the attacks, along with the roof of the building directly behind them, and an intersection to their left.

Gray called the Ukrainian military base to see if they could provide some help in getting his men out and to safety. The Ukrainians told Gray to call the nearby CPA and then hung up on him. Gray then phoned the CPA headquarters in Baghdad and received the response that they would take his report under advisement but could offer no immediate assistance. So Gray Branfield and his HART team settled in for their front-row seat watching the Mahdi attack on the CPA compound.

The Mahdi Army was trying to push across the bridge toward the compound, but the small detachment of Ukrainians held them back. Vehicles and buildings began to burn, sending up fat black columns of smoke. The Ukrainians had called for air support, and jets streaked over the city trying to locate targets but could find nothing to engage without risking collateral damage. Around 1:00
P
.
M
., the CPA compound took its first direct RPG hit on the west side of the compound, and small-arms fire erupted on the east side. Inside the embattled garrison, Ukrainian soldiers and Triple Canopy contractors raced to elevated positions in the compound's towers to defend the perimeter. Triple Canopy security chief John Turner moved to the roof of the hotel to view the situation and direct fire. A heated battle ensued.