We Got Him!

by Steve Russell

  As much as we enjoyed visible signs of progress, it was no substitute for success. Our battle for the streets of Tikrit continued. A sniper team placed near 40th Street to safeguard that troubled area reminded us that, like the arcade game “Whac-A-Mole,” we had to keep swinging at the devious and elusive enemy.

  On September 6, Specialist Juan Cantu and his sniper team traversed from a rooftop hideout along a wall to cover a different location. As they did, three Iraqis engaged them with gunfire and fled. Not satisfied with this outcome and undaunted by the terrain, Cantu bounced his team across catwalks and rooftops in the direction he believed the assailants had disappeared. Approaching a corner, he saw the men congratulating each other, flushed with their imagined heroics. Their victory party was soon shattered by gunfire from our soldiers. Cantu and his team ripped into the men, killing two and wounding the third. This enemy paid a heavy price for his bombast.

  That same day, Jon Cecalupo’s “Cougars” continued the battle of the bunkers, killing one and wounding another. There seemed to be an endless supply of idiots with hammers, cigarettes, and AK-47s. They continued to stack up like the 57mm casings they came to loot.

  My chief concerns during this time were defeating bomb makers, combating street fighters, and hunting for Saddam Hussein and his henchmen. It was an intense balancing act stretching and reaching in every direction that intelligence led us or instinct urged us. While Colonel Hickey’s focus was decidedly fixed on the trail of Saddam, we could not ignore the day-to-day fights that necessarily deterred us from our main effort.

  Once he realized that we were looking for Musslits, the Governor’s security chief, Colonel Mohammed Jassim Hussein, provided some unexpected but much-needed support. Jassim’s men nabbed two Musslits within a two-week period. Although cousins to the main family we were tracking, the brothers, Nasir and Ahmed Yaseen Omar al-Musslit, helped connect the dots from the insurgency network that protected Saddam to those who inspired and recruited insurgents, to those who planned ambushes on Americans.

  In many ways, these were all symbiotic. The insurgency was struggling to take the initiative, inspired by money and weapons provided by leaders of the former regime. To what extent Saddam was influencing events was not clear at the time. We now know that he was attempting a loose insurgent campaign to be executed by the party faithful, namely his inner circle of bodyguards. Our strategy seemed to be giving us the advantage.

  Regardless, street fights had become a priority again. We began to position more outposts and ambushes in the most likely areas of enemy activity. In doing so, we continued to uncover an odd relationship of active cells having direct ties to Saddam’s old networks. Their locations varied from downtown shops to residential suburbs or to quiet villages. On the night of September 6, we raided three suspected locations based on tips and detained seven insurgents and their weapons. The information we gained further validated our interpretation of events.

  One of the newly placed outposts provided surveillance of Thamer Hamoudi’s house in hopes of being able to eradicate the bombing and insurgent network we had deciphered. Hamoudi’s house was in close proximity to Abid Mahmood’s house in Cadaseeyah, where the Ace of Diamonds had been captured in June. Like Auja, the area was full of trouble. Jon’s tankers were still too busy with the bunkers farther north to cover Cadaseeyah, so I ordered Brad Boyd’s troops to expand a bit north and take up observation in the area with Chris Morris’ scouts in mutual support. Mark Stouffer would assist with his “Gators” by assuming some city patrols and taking up the battalion reserve.

  We had come far in our ability to emplace sustained outposts since July. Brad was able to infiltrate an eight-man outpost of line infantry led by his 3rd Platoon Leader, First Lieutenant Mike Isbell. They landed silently in a 74th Engineer Company V-hulled boat on the west bank of the Tigris River and stealthily moved up a wadi in search of suitable locations for their surveillance. They avoided any insurgent lookouts observing the main roads to the west. The outpost was composed of several sturdy unfinished houses in a setting that afforded them excellent observation of Thamer’s house without being in the direct line of any traffic. After some promising signs of activity on the first night, Isbell consolidated his team on a single house that offered the best observation. Little did we know it was also a meeting place for an insurgent cell operating in the area.

  At sunset on September 7, Isbell led a three-man team to gain a closer view of Thamer’s house. He believed he saw Thamer’s car and wanted to confirm his presence. Scanning with a command launch unit (CLU), a thermal device that attached to the Javelin anti-tank rocket, Isbell’s eyes diverted to Specialist Jacob Lynn who was flailing wildly and acting quite erratic.

  “What’s wrong with you?” an irritated Isbell whispered.

  “Hornets, sir!” Lynn rasped as he battled the nasty little pests.

  Confirming what he believed to be Thamer’s car, he made his way back to the outpost. About an hour after twilight, Isbell and his men heard the crunching sound of tire rubber on the dusty hard-packed ground. He spied a blue Toyota heading straight for their location, apparently unaware of their presence, yet arriving without headlights to conceal their movement. Isbell craned up to see the car and ordered Specialist Lynn to alert the others downstairs. Sergeant Matthew Rose had already taken a position by the entrance. Staff Sergeant Joe Williams motioned to Specialist Radhames Camilo, Sergeant John Garza, and Lynn to stay low and still.

  Two Iraqis exited the car. The first one entered the doorway and walked right into Sergeant Rose. “Grab him!” shouted Williams. Then he, Lynn, Camilo, and Garza took off after the second Iraqi who was attempting to flee. Both Iraqis, now subdued, were brought into the outpost. Sergeant Rose ordered Private First Class Justin Brog, a medic, to switch off the Toyota’s ignition. As he did, he thought he saw men armed with AK-47s off in the distance.

  Meanwhile, from his second floor vantage, Isbell noticed the same armed men drifting out of Thamer’s compound. He could distinguish two for certain. One appeared to speak to the other before running back into Thamer’s house.

  “I need the CLU,” Isbell called to the men downstairs.

  Grabbing Sergeant Christopher Wright’s PVS-7b night vision goggles, Isbell adjusted them in an effort to see the men in the distance. Although the residential lights washed out the night vision, he could see one of the armed men take a knee. Private First Class Brog spotted another man moving about 150 meters from the kneeling man. They were attempting to flank the outpost.

  A thousand thoughts raced through Isbell’s mind. He had two Iraqis detained, his position was compromised, armed men were assembling at Thamer’s house, and others were arriving from different locations. He radioed to Captain Boyd, gave a brief contact report, and asked for backup. Then, without hesitation, Lieutenant Isbell made the decision to move on the armed men before they could act.

  “I need three men!” Isbell called out in a hushed tone as he flew down the stairs, leaving Wright alone on the roof. As he exited the doorway, he heard the familiar sound of a charging weapon. Gunfire reverberated in the bare outpost as Sergeant Wright opened up with his rifle. Specialist Camilo ripped a burst from his squad automatic weapon just as Isbell came up. Seeing the tracer rounds climb into the air, Isbell instinctively placed a hand on the barrel to push the rounds lower, flinching with the searing heat of the barrel. Camilo understood and adjusted his aim in the darkness as Isbell raised his own rifle to join in. They thought they saw the kneeling man fall to the ground.

  “Cease fire!” ordered Isbell. Suddenly, the man leapt up and rushed over to some bushes nearby.

  “He’s up!” shouted Specialist Lynn, who had followed Isbell outside.

  “Shoot the m_____ f_____!” screamed Isbell as he fired his weapon, watching the man tumble near the bushes.

  As Isbell’s men began to secure the area, Brad Boyd moved to the location with his reinforcements. Chris Morris moved his scouts from their location in the Cadaseeyah
area as well. I nosed my convoy toward the sound of the guns and authorized release of the battalion Quick Reaction Force platoon from Mark Stouffer’s A Company. I gave instructions for them to take orders from C Company.

  As Brad moved his troops toward the area, Lieutenant Isbell captured six suspected insurgents. Making his way to the wounded Iraqi who had been shot through the legs, he evaluated his surroundings and noted that things had grown eerily silent. All activity at Thamer’s house had ceased. Isbell kicked the chrome-plated AK-47 from the groaning Iraqi’s reach as blood continued to pour from his wounds.

  “We need to get him some help, but he won’t be able to walk,” Isbell said to Lynn.

  “Why don’t we use the Iraqi car?” suggested Lynn, pointing toward the recently acquired Toyota parked at the outpost in the distance.

  “Go get it,” ordered Isbell as he instructed Specialist Camilo to cover the wounded man. Specialist Lynn ran to retrieve the car in which they would move him to the outpost.

  Once there, Private First Class Brog treated the wounded Iraqi’s gunshot wounds and administered an IV. Meanwhile, Brad’s troops struggled to find Isbell’s location in the darkness. The residential lights hampered the night vision, and the infrared chem lights could not be seen at all. Finally, Brad told Isbell to flash a red lens flashlight to assist them with linkup. Picking up the signal, Brad moved swiftly to Isbell’s location.

  Bryan Luke and I arrived at about the same time as Captain Boyd. Brad and I conferred briefly. We both felt that the opportunity for catching Thamer that night had probably dissipated but decided to raid his house anyway to see what we could find. The raid yielded some useful material though Thamer reportedly fled when our outpost was compromised by the chance encounter with the blue Toyota.

  There would be another encounter with a Toyota the next day. This one would be white. Staff Sergeant German Sanchez was leading his foot patrol along 40th Street when they found themselves under fire from a white Toyota Crown driving by a connecting alley. The enemy fired RPGs and rifles whereupon the patrol immediately returned fire and blasted the car. They forced the enemy to flee but were unable to flush them out. Sanchez’s troops complained that, unlike in the movies, you can hit a car with a supernatural amount of fire without obliterating it.

  While all this action failed to net Thamer, we were connecting more dots on the bombing network. Acting on a tip the night of September 10, we cordoned three businesses along 40th Street and raided them. Among the goods in the stores were TNT and C-4 explosives, clocks, mercury for detonators, mortar ammunition, AK-47s, and shotguns—a diverse assortment for the discriminating shopper.

  Most intriguing were several radio-controlled cars that were being converted into bombs. The cars themselves would be discarded, but the bombers stripped the electronic components to attach them to blasting caps. They were then wrapped in plastic explosives and placed inside various containers for camouflage. The “hobbyists” would then use the handheld R/C steering device to detonate the bomb as a convoy passed. The range on these devices was about 100 meters. In a built-up urban environment, that distance could provide endless possibilities for an attacker to strike and hide.

  As we sifted through the material captured in this raid, my soldiers inadvertently made a noteworthy discovery. Unable to resist the temptation of the confiscated toys, the unaltered cars were soon zipping all around the marble floor of our palace headquarters. Watching in amusement, I noticed that when one soldier attempted to steer his toy car, it interfered with all the others. Never ones to concern themselves with FCC regulations, apparently the Chinese had built them all to operate on the same frequency.

  Intrigued, we tested our observations and found that all of the cars were, indeed, on the same frequency. If the insurgents in our area purchased the cars in bulk, then we could also assume that their bombs detonated on the same frequency as well. To counter some of that threat, I taped down the levers on one of the R/C controllers. Resting on the dashboard of our Humvee in the “on” position during patrols, it served us well as a poor man’s anti-explosive device. It was risky, perhaps, but far superior to bombs striking us through discovery learning.

  The ever-increasing improvised bomb threat challenged military minds everywhere. While we battled them, politicians and reporters seemed especially excited to find a cause célèbre to grab headlines and show genuine concern for soldier safety while never missing an opportunity to castigate our defense leaders or their political enemies. Never mind that most of them could not identify a bomb four out of five times in a display of only bombs.

  Consequently, we began to receive all manner of ingenious ideas and implements of intelligence to counter the bomb threats. Unfortunately, most of these devices were long on promise and short on delivery. Rushing each new solution to the front lines, we answered the well-wishers’ queries via burdensome field reports that their contraptions didn’t work or worked on the wrong things. “High speed” jamming equipment in their “high speed” vehicles also jammed all of our “low speed” radios—not the best strategy for preserving our troops in life-and-death situations.

  Other items of note sent to us included a massive white Chevy Suburban with enormous NASA-like black antennae protruding from the top. We might as well have painted a bull’s-eye on each side as an added touch. It was like going to war in a Winnebago—hilarious for the movie Stripes but utterly inept in Tikrit. Powered up, not only would it jam all of our communications, but it seemed to have the potential to pull down orbiting satellites, invert black holes, and tear irreparable gaps in the universe.

  Next came advocates of armoring everything and everyone. Once accomplished, we were to hunker down and retreat into consolidated bases to reduce the number of options for effective placement of bombs. Never mind the enemy’s delight to have been presented with fresh targets on limited access points requiring minimum effort on their part. Why didn’t we just hand them a treasure map with X marking the spots—“Plant bombs for Americans here.” If a bomb was discovered, heaven forbid we should deal with it ourselves. After all, what could infantry possibly know about things that explode or go bump in the night? No, the bomb experts could rush to the scene. They were guaranteed to arrive posthaste within at least twelve hours. The entire plan from concept to execution was utter nonsense.

  The best way to manage the early bomb threats was to regard the bombs as obstacles. The best tactic for defeating them was the employment of ambushes and informant networks. If bombs were detected, they could be cleared like obstacles. The procedure was much the same as removing a landmine—isolate and detonate. The theory seemed rational to us, but we found it impossible to convince anyone apart from our field commanders. Thankfully, they gave us the freedom to tackle the bombs with low-tech tactics.

  Such tactics were extremely effective in countering explosives. Over seventy percent of the bombs in our area were preempted before they could discharge. Of those that did, fewer still caused major harm because of our proficient tactical dispersion and formations. While affording no protection in case of impact, our unarmored, stripped, and open vehicles yielded excellent visibility for all eyes on board and facilitated instant reaction. We had not deployed with armored Hummers or trucks. We creatively used what we had in the best way possible.

  We rendered the full measure of respect these bombs commanded and would continue to take casualties from them. I reasoned, however, that we must never adopt a defensive posture to counter them. To do so would surrender the initiative to the enemy on a silver platter. That would never happen if I could prevent it. Fortunately, General Odierno and Colonel Hickey held the same view concerning these early improvised bombs.

  A FREE AND DEMOCRATIC IRAQ

  After the street fighting early in the month, mid-September arrived with promise. The heat remained insufferable, but the soldiers handled each task magnificently—whether ambushes, patrols, training native levies, or engaging local officials in democratic processes. The first c
lass of Iraqi Civil Defense soldiers graduated, and training of the second class began. The “Council of Sheiks” was formalized. Making the head tribal leaders authorized representatives precluded the need to hear every individual with a complaint. This allowed us to focus on the most pressing issues. Our mayor, Ibrahim Waal, drawing from his vast diplomatic experience abroad, established an effective system to improve public works. We worked closely with the provincial police chief, General Mezher, who had hired the third Tikrit municipal police chief—the first was fired, and the second was transferred. Our relationship with the Salah ad Din provincial government continued to gel.

  Against this backdrop, Major General Ray Odierno charged each of his units to select delegates for each city and province to form representative councils. Their task would be to aid the governors of the three provinces under the umbrella of the 4th Infantry Division. Having long before engaged many of the sheiks and leaders, we assembled an able group composed of ten sheiks and five professionals from which to choose the representatives from Tikrit. Other cities did the same. We convened at Colonel Hickey’s 1st Brigade headquarters for the representative election of 34 delegates to serve on the Salah ad Din Provincial Governing Council.

  The big day arrived on September 13. I met with our Tikritis in a private room after all were gathered in a general assembly. Iraqi judges were present for each selection to administer the ballot count alongside each battalion commander. I gave each prospective councilman the floor. The qualifications they voiced were varied. One touted his ninth grade education and character. Others spoke of their law or engineering degrees or their achievements as medical doctors. Some had previously held political offices. But my absolute favorite was the Nasiri tribal head sheik who stated confidently, as he adjusted his robe lapels and delicately opened his palms toward the assembly, “I am Sheik Mahmood.” That was the summation of his qualifications as he yielded the floor to the next individual with a sweeping gesture of his hand. He was not elected, but he did get several votes.