by Oliver North
The small group of operators at the Shkin Base was close-knit and team members would often stay up late into the night debating politics, history, or the likelihood that they would succeed in their primary mission: tracking down Osama bin Laden, target #1 on the Americans’ “kill or capture” list.
All those in this very selective, highly secret unit had faced danger before. So when they were handed the mission of heading out of the base to follow up on some new intelligence, they went loaded for bear. They all knew they were about to kick a hornet’s nest.
Accompanied by a detachment of Afghan commandos mounted in Humvees, trucks, SUVs, and Toyota Hilux pickups, the team drove out the gates of the base before sunup. To call the route they took into the hills a road is a gross overstatement. This part of Afghanistan doesn’t have roads. The dusty track they followed was better suited for, and well used by, the local goat herds.
On mission before daylight
As the convoy bumped and wound its way into the mountains, rocky peaks loomed on either side and stone outcroppings closed in tight. Tactically they were sitting ducks and though nobody liked it, neither could they do much about it. Just behind the lead vehicle—a Toyota Hilux carrying Afghan soldiers—Chief piloted a soft-sided Humvee with “Doc” Donald riding shotgun.
Three hours after leaving the base, the mountain path literally exploded around them.
An RPG streaking from above detonated just inches from the second vehicle occupied by Chief Carlson, Doc Donald, and two of their teammates. A direct hit would have killed all inside but the near miss was enough to throw the Humvee upward and spray shrapnel into the vehicle, filling the cab with smoke and all but disabling it.
A heavy machine gun opened up from a ridgeline off to the left. Through the cracked windshield, it appeared another RPG turned the Hilux truck full of Afghan soldiers ahead of them into a smoldering wreck.
Ground assault convoy
Ignoring the blistering fire, Chief quickly turned hard to shield Mark and the others inside from the worst of it, putting them as close as possible to a ditch running beside the path and up against a hill that would provide cover.
Mark Donald looked over at his teammate. “Bailout, Chief?”
Carlson nodded and shouted over the din, “The vehicle’s down. Go. Go!”
They were the last words Mark would hear Chief say.
By positioning the vehicle to provide as much cover as possible for his teammates, the rugged former Delta operator fully exposed himself to the enemy fire. Mark and the others rolled out and tried to engage the enemy, but even with the rear of the vehicle affording some protection, rounds were impacting all around them. As a bullet tore gear from Mark’s harness, he could see others around him still fighting, though blood was soaking through their uniforms where bullets and shrapnel found flesh.
In the seconds it took for Chief to maneuver the vehicle to the side of the path, the enemy above found their range and zeroed in on Carlson with a deadly volley. He was cut down before he could exit the vehicle.
For the surviving team members, there wasn’t time to grieve. With the volume of fire still increasing all around them, they tried to escape the kill zone by laying down a base of fire while screaming at their Afghan counterparts to do the same.
Though already wounded in his right arm, Doc Donald was still able to move thanks to copious amounts of adrenaline coursing through his veins. In the chaos he realized they would have to break out of the ambush and link up with the rest of the column, from which they were now separated by a wall of flying lead and shrapnel. To rescue the wounded still trapped in the kill zone, they would have to get the Afghan soldiers still able to fight to lay down a base of covering fire long enough for him to drag the wounded to safety.
Danger close
Shouts and vigorous arm gestures finally got the Afghan commandos on the same sheet of music. Braving the rounds aimed at him, Mark dashed to the nearest wounded, grabbed the man’s harness and dragged him back to the shelter of some rocks. Then he did it a second time, moving as swiftly as his own wounds and heavy gear would allow.
Twice more he ran from cover up to the lead vehicle to treat wounded Afghan commandos and coordinate with others still able to pull a trigger, directing the fight as best he could. More than once he had to dive for cover to avoid a blast of gunfire directed his way, pressing himself into a depression less than a foot deep and feeling somewhat amazed at how small a man can get when properly motivated.
Incoming fire increased and became more accurate as the al-Qaeda fighters above maneuvered to close in on them. Though he concluded they would soon have to retreat or be overrun, Mark conferred with his teammates and they decided abandoning Chief’s body and several other gravely wounded men was not an option. They would stand and fight together, and if need be, die together.
Then suddenly the hail of incoming fire stopped. Unbeknownst to Mark Donald and the others trapped in the kill zone, the rest of the troops further back in the column dismounted and moved uphill on the enemy flank. Well-aimed volleys of fire visited swift retribution on the closest of the al-Qaeda attackers.
While the desperate battle raged on the mountain east of the Shkin Base, Chris Mueller was briefing a 10th Mountain Division quick reaction force (QRF). He reluctantly agreed to stay behind for just such a mission if the need arose. As the soldiers sprinted to their vehicles, shrugging on body armor while they ran, Mueller estimated it would take at least half an hour to reach his embattled mates.
Back at the ambush site, Doc Donald searched the terrain for a suitable casualty collection point. There were still people shooting at them, but it seemed the enemy was a little less enthusiastic after seeing their first string wiped out. Still, he estimated the al-Qaeda or Taliban or both, would soon have reinforcements en route.
Aware that their current location was too exposed and certain their reprieve would likely be short-lived, Doc Donald organized some of the Afghan soldiers to lay down a barrage of suppressive fire. Then, on his signal, they piled themselves and the wounded into two, still operational Toyota trucks.
Mark sprinted to the driver’s door of the lead vehicle, jerked it open, and threw himself inside. He started the engine, popped the clutch and the truck took off like a rodeo pony, heading for a bend in the path that would put them in defilade from direct enemy fire.
Afghan commando
Somehow, they made it without further casualties and for a short time, it seemed the battle might be over. For the next half hour or so, Doc Donald hustled from one group of men to another, distributing ammunition and water, feeling more tired than ever before in his life as the adrenaline subsided and blood from his own wounds continued to seep into his clothing. Focused on treating those with the most serious injuries, he made a grim discovery: nearly every man was hit by either bullets or shrapnel.
The arrival of Chris Mueller and the QRF provided a brief respite for Doc Donald as 10th Mountain Division medics pitched in to help treat the wounded. While the U.S. soldiers took up positions along the shallow perimeter, Mark briefed Chris and the infantry platoon commander on what happened and what he expected. Though the enemy fire finally ceased, Donald told them to anticipate a running gun battle as they headed back to the base at Shkin.
As he told Chris of Chief Carlson’s heroism and how he died, Mark could tell Mueller was deeply troubled by the loss of their friend. Chris and Doc Donald talked alone for a few minutes and then Mueller departed to join a team of his Afghan commandos whom would serve as a point element for the 10th Mountain Div troops scouting the road ahead.
They were barely out of sight beyond the next wadi when the sound of gunfire echoed through the canyon again. As he raced to a vantage point, Doc Donald’s heart sank. Chris and his advance team were taking fire from hidden snipers as another band of al-Qaeda fighters moved in to press the attack.
N
ow it was time for the rescued to become the rescuer.
Casualty evacuation
With his reserves of adrenaline all but spent, the SEAL Doc wearily picked up his rifle and headed toward the gunfight. Just as he did, he saw Chris dash from a covered position to help a wounded Afghan commando. Suddenly, an unseen enemy opened fire from Chris’s right rear and Mark saw him fall—hard—then roll and try to keep fighting. Mark and a group of American and Afghan soldiers moved as quickly as possible, but by the time he made it to Mueller’s side, it was obvious there was nothing he could do. Chris Mueller, like Chief Carlson just hours before, lost their lives trying to save the lives of others. Doc Donald lost two of his brothers in one fight and no amount of medical expertise was going to change that.
What followed next were periods of intense fire interrupted by brief moments of silence as air support arrived overhead. Al-Qaeda fighters, drawn by the sound of battle tried to close in for the kill. Attack helicopters and A-10 Thunderbolts, directed by radio rolled in with rocket pods and nose-mounted cannons blazing. Despite heavy losses from the aerial firepower, the enemy pressed so close that several times the pilots were reluctant to fire—fearful of hitting “friendlies.”
When the sun began dropping toward the horizon, American helicopters swooped in to evacuate the most urgent casualties. As al-Qaeda fire slackened, the battered CIA team, Afghan commandos, and the 10th Mountain QRF seized the opportunity to break out. They made it safely back to the base under the cover of close air support.
At the end of the battle, only one man on the team was unscathed and two were dead. Everyone else, including Doc Donald, was wounded. The bullet and shrapnel holes in his body armor and equipment told the story: It simply wasn’t his day to die.
Today, in a quiet spot at the CIA Headquarters in Langley, Virginia, a wall of honor bears a star for every CIA employee who lost his or her life in the service to our country. There, among so many other heroes, are stars bearing the names of Chris Mueller and Chief Carlson.
CIA Memorial wall
In relation to what they gave, a simple star seems far too little, but according to those who knew them best and whose lives have been touched by their sacrifice, those understated stars are fitting, since both were the kind of men who said, “It’s not about me.”
Doc Mark Donald, eventually retired, feeling compelled to serve in a different capacity. Today he is an advocate for wounded veterans around the country. With Mark’s help, one of Chief’s two sons, Shayne Carlson, embarked on an expedition to skateboard across the United States to raise awareness for wounded warriors.
AGENCY SEAL MEDALLION:
CHRISTOPHER G. MUELLER
Christopher G. Mueller is posthumously awarded the AGENCY SEAL MEDALLION in recognition of his outstanding performance and courage in the face of hazardous and unpredictable conditions, personal courage under enemy fire, and making the ultimate sacrifice for his nation on 25 October 2003. Mr. Mueller displayed great valor in the face of the enemy, exposing himself to render aid to a wounded comrade. His selfless action under fire was undertaken knowing that it could cost him his life. Mr. Mueller’s service and contributions in the war against terrorism were instrumental in defeating al-Qaeda forces and achieving America’s goals of peace, justice, and stability. His actions and his performance were in the finest traditions of the Agency. Mr. Mueller’s contributions to the national security and, in particular, to the mission of this organization reflect credit upon him, his institution, and the Federal service.
Chris Mueller’s last free-fall jump
NAVY CROSS:
LIEUTENANT MARK L. DONALD
The President of the United States of America takes pleasure in presenting the Navy Cross to Lieutenant Mark L. Donald, United States Navy, for extraordinary heroism as Medical Officer assigned to a Joint Operational Unit conducting combat operations against al-Qaeda and Taliban enemy forces in support of Operation Enduring Freedom, in October 2003. Lieutenant Donald was part of a multi-vehicle mounted patrol ambushed by extremely heavy fire from rocket-propelled grenades and small arms. When two rocket-propelled grenades exploded immediately in front of his vehicle, Lieutenant Donald exited the vehicle and began returning fire. While under heavy and continuous machine gun fire he pulled the wounded Afghan commander to relative safety behind the vehicle’s engine block. He left his position, completely exposing himself to the small arms fire, and pulled a wounded American trapped behind the steering wheel to cover behind the vehicle. He covered the wounded with his own body while returning fire and providing care. In the process, multiple bullets passed through his clothing and equipment. Identifying wounded Afghan personnel in the two lead vehicles, Lieutenant Donald moved to their aid under heavy fire and began medical treatment. After treating the wounded, he took charge of an Afghan squad in disarray, deployed them to break the ambush, and continued to treat numerous critically injured personnel, while arranging for their prompt medical evacuation. That afternoon, while sweeping an area of earlier action, a U.S./Afghan element was ambushed by a platoon-sized enemy force near Lieutenant Donald’s position. Knowing personnel were gravely wounded, Lieutenant Donald without hesitation and with complete disregard for his own safety ran two hundred meters between opposing forces exposing him to withering and continuous heavy machine gun and small arms fire to render medical treatment to two wounded personnel, one Afghan and one American. He placed himself between the casualties and the extremely heavy enemy fire now directed at him and began emergency medical treatment. Still under intense enemy fire, wounded by shrapnel, and knowingly within dangerously close range of attacking U.S. Army AH-64 Apache helicopter rockets, he organized the surviving Afghan soldiers and led a two-hundred-meter fighting withdrawal to friendly positions. Lieutenant Donald coordinated the medical evacuation of wounded soldiers and withdrew overland back to base before treating his own wounds. By his heroic display of decisive and tenacious leadership, unyielding courage in the face of constant enemy fire, and utmost devotion to duty, Lieutenant Donald reflected great credit upon himself and upheld the highest traditions of the United States Naval Service.
OPERATION VIGILANT RESOLVE
FALLUJAH, AL ANBAR PROVINCE, IRAQ
In the spring of 2004 Al Anbar Province, Iraq, was the most dangerous place on planet Earth. The cities of Fallujah and Ramadi, the provincial capital, were the heart of the insurgency in the “Sunni Triangle.”
Abu Musab Al-Zarqawi, the Jordanian terrorist who headed al-Qaeda in Iraq, established his headquarters in Fallujah. The urban area was firmly under the control of insurgent factions, all of whom defied coalition attempts to establish Iraqi government control over the city of four hundred thousand. Entering Fallujah’s warren of narrow streets and tight packed, multi-story buildings was a virtual suicide mission.
On 31 March 2004, a convoy of trucks delivering supplies to U.S. and Iraqi forces was ambushed by insurgents. Four Blackwater security guards meeting the vehicles were killed and their mutilated bodies were hung from a bridge over the Euphrates. Images of dead Americans being desecrated brought a firestorm of indignation across America, prompting the Interim Iraqi Government to declare they would—with U.S. support—send in new Iraqi Army troops to “pacify” the city. The operation was code named “Vigilant Resolve.”
The task of cordoning the city so the insurgents couldn’t be reinforced while the Iraqi Army prepared for the fight fell to the 1st Marine Expeditionary Force, led by Lieutenant General James Conway. On the night of 4 April 2004, the Marines surrounded the city, blocking off all roads and bridges leading in or out and called on peaceful citizens to evacuate. Many did. But intelligence officers warned that perhaps four thousand insurgents remained and were fortifying whole city blocks against an expected attack.
Urban warfare is the worst kind of combat, especially when the enemy has had time to prepare defenses and use hapless civilians as shields. While Iraqi government leaders debated how and
when their forces would fight, the Marines used every play in the handbook—from leaflet drops to blaring heavy metal music over loudspeakers. The insurgents made it clear they weren’t going anywhere—firing back with RPGs, mortars, and machine guns. They also managed to infiltrate the city with reporters from Arab media outlets who did their best to turn American and Iraqi public opinion against the operation.
While the interim government in Baghdad vacillated, U.S. commanders on the ground continued to probe insurgent defenses. On 26 April, a platoon of Marines was tasked with “dropping” a seven-man Special Operations unit in the northeast section of the city. If all went as planned, the Marines and Special Operators would move together on a patrol to the designated site and the Green Berets would establish a covert observation post to call in fire on the enemy after the Marines returned to the perimeter. Like many things in war, it didn’t work out as planned.
The leader of the Spec-Ops team, Master Sergeant Donald R. Hollenbaugh, was a twenty-year veteran of the Special Operations community—a member of the super-secret 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment—Delta, or “Delta Force” for eight years. The tough, wiry Master Sergeant from Prescott, Washington, had already seen more combat than most men alive, including the “Black Hawk Down” incident in Mogadishu, Somalia, in 1993.
Capt Doug Zembiec, the commanding officer of Company E, 2nd Battalion, 1st Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division, gives orders to his men over a radio prior to leaving their secured compound for a short patrol in Fallujah, Iraq, 8 April 2004. The company entered Fallujah 6 April to begin the effort of destroying enemy holding up in the city.