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Authors: Oliver North

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Before nightfall, the city is virtually surrounded. RCT-1 is to our immediate south and RCT-7, coiled up near the junction of the Tigris and Diyala rivers, is prepared to press on into the city with nighttime patrols. Joe Dunford sets up his RCT-5 CP in an abandoned Republican Guard officer housing area, where there's barely room to park the four CH-46s and two UH1Ns among the U.S. vehicles and dozens of abandoned and mostly intact Iraqi army tanks, armored vehicles, and anti-aircraft weapons. For our evening satellite feed, we set up our camera next to a 57mm anti-aircraft gun that still has a round in its breech and crates of ammo beside it, indicating that the Iraqis
deserted it quickly. Just down the street from us, a large tire factory is on fire and producing heavy volumes of billowing black smoke.

Once again, we learn more about the course of the war from the FOX News Channel broadcasts originating in New York and Washington than we do from what we can see from our own narrow vantage point. Farther to the west, elements of the Army's 3rd Infantry Division have been conducting “thunder runs”—armored sorties into the city and back out to the area north of the airport. Iraqi command and control has largely broken down. What organized units remain in the city seem to be demoralized by news being broadcast by U.S. Commando Solo aircraft that Saddam and his sons were killed in an air strike yesterday in the Mansour section of Baghdad. Whether they were killed or not, most of the Iraqi civilians that we're seeing seem to believe it—and don't appear to be in mourning.

According to the news, paratroopers of the 173rd Airborne Brigade have linked up with Kurdish
pesh merga
forces in the north and chased the Iraqi army out of Ain Sifni, a strategic town just north of Mosul—not far from ancient Nineveh, made famous by the biblical prophet Jonah. Well to our south, the British have entered Basra after a two-week siege. Strangely absent from the U.S. broadcasts are the retired generals and admirals who just days ago were prognosticating that we faced months of heavy combat and thousands of U.S. casualties before getting to Baghdad.

CENTCOM says that coalition forces are facing “sporadic resistance”—a term that has meaning only to anyone not being shot at. Part of the “sporadic resistance” that we're now experiencing is an occasional mortar round fired from the area just beyond the limit of the Marine advance. Just before dark I go up in one of the HMLA-267 Hueys on a quick hop to see if they can spot the shooter or a forward observer. Flying at about two hundred feet, the two helicopters sweep over crowded streets where civilians are camping out, with small fires,
cooking or just staying warm in the cool night air, since the electricity is off in this part of Baghdad. Just outside the Marine lines, the gunner on the right side of our bird spots a man in civilian clothes on the roof of an apartment building. He clearly has an AK-47 and what appears to be a radio. It's logical to assume that this is a forward observer (FO) for the mortar that has been dropping rounds on us. Yesterday, this would have been a no-brainer—with the flick of an arming switch and the squeeze of the trigger on our GAU-17 mini-gun, the FO would have had more holes than a slice of Swiss cheese. But when we crossed the Diyala, the rules of engagement (the ROE) changed. Because of the dense civilian population, the Marine gunners, both in the air and on the ground, have been told to “fire only when fired upon.”

On the ground, five hundred yards away, we can see Marine LAVs, who obviously cannot see the guy on the roof. And of course nobody knows what or who else is in the apartment building. It may be hiding a fedayeen platoon, or it may be home to several hundred of the civilians who just hours ago were cheering our arrival.

As we circle the building, trying to make radio contact with the LAV unit on the ground, two USAF F-15 Strike Eagles are running an air strike off to our west over what appears to be the center of Baghdad. As the lead jet pulls up from his run, he's chased by a stream of tracers, and then the arc of a SAM follows him. Even though it's several miles away, and we're peering into the sunset, the missile looks big—an SA3 or 6. It resembles a telephone pole streaking up at the U.S. aircraft. Flares and chaff drop from the lead F-15 as it dives for the rooftops, and his wingman unleashes what looks to be a missile—a HARM, I'm guessing—at the offending Iraqi launcher. The skyline erupts in red where the missile hits, clearly inside the city, and the two aircraft disappear into the clouds.

This whole exchange has taken less than a minute, and I have managed to capture some of it on my camera. The result can only be
presumed, but it's very likely three or four Iraqis manning a fire-control console at a surface-to-air missile battery, and possibly ten or twelve other Iraqis loading a ZSU-23-4, are now dead.

While I was distracted by the “air show” off to our west, below us the suspected FO gathers his weapon, picks up his military radio, and disappears into a doorway on the roof. All that the two heavily armed helicopters can do is mark the location with a GPS plot and hope that an infantry patrol will check out the site tonight or tomorrow. The frustration is palpable. The commentary over the intercom is unprintable.

   
OPERATION IRAQI FREEDOM SIT REP #30

      
With RCT-5

      
East Baghdad

      
Wednesday, 9 April 2003

      
2200 Hours Local

It rained on us last night, a cold drizzle that made sleeping on the hood of a Humvee, rolled up in my poncho and poncho liner, particularly uncomfortable. The precipitation forced us to break down our satellite gear; we didn't reestablish communications with New York until after sunrise. The first news of our day is actually the last news from yesterday in the United States. Nearly all of it's bad.

There's one positive story, with some good footage from Rick Leventhal, about the Marines moving across the Diyala into east Baghdad. The next report from Iraq is about an Air Force A-10 Warthog getting shot down yesterday by a French Roland SAM just north of the Saddam International Airport—proving again that not all of the Iraqis have given up. The “big story,” as my friend John Gibson would put it, is about a U.S. Army M-1 Abrams tank round that hit the Palestine Hotel, where most of the members of the international press
corps—those who chose to be “embedded” with the Iraqi regime—have been living. The tank round reportedly killed two foreign journalists and wounded several, and there is apparently an international uproar.

The Marines who gather around our little TV set to catch up on the news from home absorb all of this. The only story that evinces any response is one about the Baghdad bureau of Al Jazeera having been hit during a U.S. air raid yesterday, killing one of the TV network's reporters. That prompts a Marine staff sergeant to observe, “Now isn't that a damn shame. ‘Jihad TV' didn't seem to get that upset when four hijacked planes killed three thousand Americans on nine-eleven.” Sympathy for the enemy has never been a strong suit among Marines.

And sitting still isn't one of “Fighting Joe” Dunford's strong suits either. Even before first light he has his battalions preparing to move, completing the “right hook” into the city proper. He wants the Marines of RCT-5 to press on all the way to the Tigris, in the heart of the city, and link up with the Army's 3rd Infantry Division. The company commanders are provided with the grid coordinates to plug into their GPSs. These coordinates are for various high-value targets selected by the OGA teams roaming around the city looking for Baath Party facilities, weapons of mass destruction, and, of course, any surviving regime leaders.

Interestingly enough, nobody here in Iraq seems to have any of the now famous decks of cards depicting the leaders of Saddam's brutal establishment that show up frequently on U.S. TV. The OGA guys, the SEALs, Task Force 20, and the Recon Marines have JPEG images of various wanted Iraqis on their laptops, but there probably aren't a dozen Marine or Army grunts who would recognize Uday or Qusay Hussein if they drove up to a military checkpoint and asked directions. Nonetheless, this morning the leathernecks of RCT-5 are going hunting for whatever members of Saddam's inner circle they can find.

Farther to our south, RCT-7 is moving into the Al Karradah neighborhood of the city, located in the “hook” of the Tigris, with the goal of pushing all the way south to Baghdad University. The sprawling campus occupies much of the terrain at the tip of the peninsula formed by the looping river and is believed to be a bastion for the foreign fedayeen who have flooded into the city since March 20.

On the night of April 8, 3rd Battalion, 7th Marines finds uniforms and documents at the Al Rasheed Medical Center, indicating that American POWs have been held and treated at the facility. Some of the OGA folks believe that the U.S. captives might have been moved to the university. Lt. Col. Chris Conlin, the CO of 1st Battalion, 7th Marines, given the mission of securing the once-respected institution of higher learning, doesn't waste time getting there. When 1/7 arrives, they find the trouble they are looking for—the fedayeen are still there. It takes the rest of the day to dig them out, even though their AK-47s and RPGs are no match for the Marine firepower, training, and discipline. In the end, the foreign fighters and the handful of young Iraqis with them get what they were seeking. They wanted to die for Saddam. The Marines of 1st Battalion, 7th Marines have obliged.

As Conlin is charging onto the university campus with his column of tanks and AAVs, Lt. Col. Brian McCoy's 3rd Battalion, 4th Marines are pushing deeper into the heart of east Baghdad. The reinforced battalion proceeds on this foray as dismounted infantry. Followed by tanks, AAVs, and dozens of armed Humvees, the infantry platoons move slowly, building to building, from the rougher streets of southeast Baghdad into increasingly affluent neighborhoods. As the day wears on, more and more Iraqis come out to greet the Marines with smiles, waves, and other friendly gestures.

By the time they reach Firdus Square, not far from the Palestine Hotel, a large crowd has gathered. Though wary, McCoy's Marines quickly grasp that this is not a hostile mob. In fact, the Iraqis are
jubilant. As the Marines approach, the Iraqis shout joyfully and cheer the Americans and their president. “Bush is good,” several of them call out. Others cheer, “We love George Bush.”

Children soon join the adults, and dozens of them are captured on videotape and film, laughing and shouting happily while running beside the battle-scarred infantrymen. A few youngsters have flowers and hand them to the grinning Marines. Some of the troops take the flowers and place them in the webbing of their battle gear. Others stick them into the camouflage covers of their Kevlar helmets. It confirms the message on leaflets dropped all over the country, what Conway and Mattis have been saying all along: “We've come as liberators, not invaders.”

Some individuals are less impressed than the Iraqis. Among those awaiting the Marines at the Palestine Hotel are a handful of sullen antiwar activists from the United States and the United Kingdom. They have come to Baghdad to volunteer as “human shields” for Saddam. One of the protesters, apparently British from the sound of her accent, cries out to the lead tank in the square, “Yankee bastard! Go home!” The Marine doesn't reply, but an Iraqi man tells the woman, “You can go home now. You are not needed here.”

Meanwhile, the crowd has decided that Baghdad really is under new management and turns its pent-up fury not on the Americans but on a forty-foot black metal statue of Saddam. After pelting the statue with stones and garbage for a few minutes, several Iraqis enlist the support of the Marines in removing this eyesore from their midst.

BOOK: War Stories
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