Travis, raised Roman Catholic and in possession of a strong moral compass instilled by Tom, Janet, and his grandparents, hated the idea of killing another human being. He read about death, watched movies about death, and talked to other Marines about death, but had never actually had to kill anyone during his first deployment. Yet when a sniper fired at him on one January morning in Fallujah, Travis did what he was trained to do, without hesitation.
While walking on foot with enlisted US Marines and Iraqi soldiers on a patrol through one of the city’s notoriously narrow streets, with low-hanging power lines blocking the view from the high-rises and towers above, crackles of gunfire began echoing through the alley. Travis and the other Marines instantly took cover as Travis shouted to the Iraqi troops in Arabic, a language that he was gradually learning, to hold their fire.
After ensuring that Iraqi Army bullets would not start flying into surrounding houses and apartments full of civilians, Travis scanned the area and saw a figure and flashes of light from the top of a tower. It was an enemy sniper, and though his aim was poor, he was a threat to Travis’s entire patrol.
With his M-203 grenade launcher loaded and attached to his M-4 rifle, Travis, with the same look in his eyes that had once intimidated wrestling opponents, took aim and fired at the tower. The sound of the grenade launch was initially merely a pop—louder than opening a can of Pringles but not much more dramatic—but when it struck the tower it was as loud as any explosion the MiTT team members had heard during almost nightly enemy mortar attacks.
When Travis’s grenade hit the tower, the explosion and crumbling stone left no doubt that the target had been eliminated. The gunshots immediately stopped, and other than some hooting from the Marines, the alley was quiet. It was then that Travis knew for sure that he had just killed a man.
Later that night on the outskirts of Fallujah, where he often slept, a somber Travis placed a call to Major Steve Cantrell, the friend and mentor who had taken him on the momentous visit to the Rescue One firehouse in lower Manhattan just before he left for his second deployment.
After exchanging greetings and catching up on how things were going back in Pennsylvania, Travis told Cantrell about his unit’s violent encounter with an enemy sniper.
“I killed him,” Travis said. “I had no choice.”
After a brief pause, the Marine asked Cantrell for help.
“I’m not sure how to deal with this,” Travis said. “I’ve never killed anyone before, and even though I know this was one of the bad guys, I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“I understand, Travis,” Cantrell said. “But you said this guy was trying to kill you and your Marines, right?”
“Right,” Travis said.
“You did exactly what you were supposed to do,” Cantrell said. “You did exactly what you were trained to do, and if you didn’t, your mom or another Marine’s mom might be getting a knock on the door right now.”
Just like seeing the uniform patches of firefighters killed in the 9/11 attacks, Cantrell’s words helped the first lieutenant put his mission into perspective. Nothing mattered more to Travis than the safety of his fellow Marines, and if his actions helped ensure that no MiTT team members were killed, he would have no regrets. Travis thanked Cantrell for his advice.
On January 25, 2007, Travis sent an e-mail to his friends and family members as the first month of his second deployment came to a close:
All,
It’s been great to hear from all of you. I’ve gotten a lot of e-mails and I really appreciate them. We’ve been really busy doing good things, which makes the time go by fast.
As far as the job is going, the area is not good right now—but it’s getting better, and to be honest I’m amazed at the ability and dedication of some of these Iraqi soldiers. There is definitely a good amount of deficiencies with the IA’s (Iraqi Army members), but overall I feel we have a strong and aggressive battalion. Our team is settling in and we are awaiting our additional augments. These additional Marines will greatly increase our size and they are arriving very soon. This will take a good deal of the workload off the existing members, and will allow us to concentrate more on advising and training these guys; getting them to the point where they are self-reliant.
After a month on the job I can definitely say the experience here with the IA’s so far has been very interesting and educational. I have a couple of jobs right now (working with the battalion logistics section and advising one of the line companies). These have both posed an equally worthy challenge, but honestly the company advising has been much easier than dealing with their lack of logistic support. The IA’s in this battalion are very eager to fight and to take control of this city. This makes my company advisor job easy (for the Marines on this list it’s almost like being an SPC at The Basic School, albeit in a very different setting). Contrary to reports in other IA battalions the company I work with is pretty competent operationally.
That’s pretty much it, I hope this e-mail finds you all well and gives a little insight into what I’ve been up to. It’s been a very challenging Relief-In-Place during a very difficult time in this area of operations, but there is nothing more inspiring on a daily basis than seeing the dedication, warrior ethos, and sacrifice of the men and women out here fighting this fight. It was at times frustrating the first time I was here and it will and has been this time, but as in anything in life, true success does not come from battles won easy.
Semper Fi,
Travis
Indeed, 3-2-1 MiTT’s mission would not be easy, especially as some proclaimed the battle in Anbar province already lost. But as US Army General David Petraeus, the new commander of Multinational Force-Iraq, began implementing a troop surge and innovative counterinsurgency strategy aimed at winning the hearts and minds of Iraqis, it was the blood, sweat, and measured restraint of ground warriors like Travis who gave the new Iraq war plan, which faced enormous opposition at home and abroad, a chance to succeed.
Although almost every American agreed that Saddam Hussein was an evil dictator, the failure to find weapons of mass destruction in Iraq had significantly damaged trust in the Bush administration, which argued that Iraq was central to its post-9/11 strategy to defeat terrorism. By early 2007 the American public was split over the Iraq war, but also confused. What was the mission in Iraq? Why were so many US troops still dying after Saddam had been deposed and executed? Shouldn’t the focus of our military be in Afghanistan, where Osama bin Laden was still at large? What did Iraq have to do with the global war on terrorism?
At dinner tables across the country, varying answers to these questions were proposed and refuted by supporters and opponents of the Iraq war. Every member of the MiTT team knew both sides of the debate and had his own opinion about the mission in Iraq, how it should be accomplished, and whether it was a war worth fighting in the first place. The irony was that in Fallujah, one of Iraq’s most lethal places, the answers to the war’s many questions could be answered rather easily.
Of everyone on the MiTT team, Travis may have understood that the most, as a January 22, 2007, e-mail from his mom to concerned family and friends highlighted:
Travis is now in Fallujah or nearby embedded with an Iraqi unit. He is one of 11 or so Marines attached with that unit to help their mission along.
He told Tom a story last week about the Iraqi Colonel briefing them upon their arrival. The Colonel addressed them by saying he appreciated all that they are doing for the Iraqi people and their help is much needed. Travis said he expressed that they want to succeed. He also asked them to remember, whenever you think of Iraq and the situation here, think of us and our desire to win.
Though the Iraqi colonel’s words were moving, Travis knew any missteps or perceived disrespect toward the Iraqis by the US Marines could quickly render their shared mission meaningless. The MiTT team could help capture or kill hundreds of insurgents and terrorists during the deployment, but it wouldn’t matter unless Iraqi troops and civilians in
Fallujah finally stepped up to prevent more bad guys from using the battered city as a launching pad.
“We need to do more than just fight,” Travis told Kim, a fellow officer who was quickly becoming a trusted friend. “We need to show these Iraqis that we care.”
In February 2007, Fallujah was full of terrorists who wanted to kill as many Americans as possible. Though the enemy was often portrayed in news reports as “Iraqi insurgents,” al Qaeda loyalists of almost every nationality under the brutal desert sun were using western Iraq as the launching pad for attacks against US troops, Iraqi soldiers, men, women, and children. If there was one place in the world serving as a vacuum for fanatical Islamic extremists, Al Anbar province was at the very top of the list.
The only way to defeat such a ruthless enemy, General Petraeus and others believed, was not only to confront al Qaeda militarily in cities like Fallujah, but to get enough Iraqi soldiers and civilians to buy into history’s oldest concept: good and evil. While controversy over the invasion, worldwide scandals like Abu Ghraib, and thousands of years of history made the new strategy seem impossible to some, it was clear that Travis and his team members were not in Iraq to shoot innocent people or blow up hospitals, schools, or places of worship. They were young and hardened, but also decent and noble. Because they communicated with Iraqi troops mostly through interpreters and broken English and Arabic, their actions had to speak louder than words. The Iraqi people had to see the difference between US troops and foreign terrorists.
That same month, Travis sat down at his forward operating base in Fallujah to check his e-mail. The deployed Marine smiled when he saw one from Brendan, who was getting ready to leave for BUD/S training in Coronado, California:
Travis,
I am the worst friend ever. . . . I am sorry I have not written you and that you have not gotten my care package yet. On the plus side, the longer I wait the more magazines you get, so I guess it could be worse.
Well I have my orders. . . . I’ll check out of Virginia Beach in two weeks, go home for a few days and then Steve-O and I are going to hit the open road. We have not decided on a route yet, but are leaning towards driving to New Orleans and then through Austin or San Antonio, but who knows, there is also Nashville. TBD though.
I am working out . . . not too hard but not too soft. . . . Everyone I talk to tells me not to over train so I am trying to keep that in mind.
Well that’s about it, I hope all is well and I will talk to you soon.
—Brendan
Before packing up for that night’s combat patrol, Travis sent a reply:
Brendan,
Good to hear from you, brother. Don’t worry about it; I’m sure you’re really busy, as am I.
Things are going well over here. I’m not sure how to read the current situation here; it’s definitely different than when I was here last year. I’m just trying to focus on my piece and affect positive change where I can. We’re getting close to the two-month mark so the time here is definitely going fast—there have been some pretty intense days. Working with my team has been somewhat frustrating. Since the mission is
somewhat gray, there are a lot of different views on how it should be accomplished. I’m sure we’ll talk about it later over some beers, so I won’t bore you too much.
Looks like you’re ready to head off to SoCal. Get the place ready for me. . . . I know you’ll be somewhat indisposed, but I may be in Coronado before you know it. What is the actual start date? I think you got the right advice about not training too hard. None of that crap is actually a physically hard event on its own; it’s just designed to break you down time after time. They told us when I was training for BRC [Basic Recon Course] that you need to be in good enough shape to get through it and recover without any issues, but too much workload will just break you down before you even get there. The thing I concentrated on a lot was swimming/finning because it was low impact, a good workout, and I just wasn’t that good at it at the time.
That’s pretty much it. I hope the last weeks of prep go well (remember to take some time to relax before you go). It sounds like you’ll have some fun going (cross)-country with Steve. Tell him and Billy I said what’s up, as well as the rest of the family. I’ve gotten some e-mails from your parents, so please tell them I really appreciate it. Keep me updated when you can, it’s good to hear from you. Alright bro, take care.
Talk to you soon,
Travis
Most 3-2-1 MiTT raids were at night. Morning or afternoon patrols through the heart of the city were often suicide missions, as American Humvees might as well have had the words “attack us” painted on their front doors. As an essential part of mission planning, Travis would often interact with Iraqi lieutenants and staff sergeants who were initially skeptical of a partnership with the Americans.
Just as some US Marines became frustrated by the raw battlefield tactics of the Iraqis, which could put all their lives at risk, some Iraqi soldiers rolled their eyes when Americans gave them orders. Whereas previous Marine lieutenants had barked instructions at the Iraqi Army leadership, Travis took a different approach, starting with a knock on the door of the Iraqi lieutenant, Jalal.
“Good day, Lieutenant, I was wondering if I could please speak with you about the upcoming raid on the high value target in the industrial sector,” Travis said through the interpreter, Nick. “I was wondering what time you would like to execute our mission.”
“I think 5 p.m. would be a good time to leave,” Jalal replied. “My men had a long day and I don’t want to keep them up too late.”
“Okay,” Travis said. “But I am wondering if you might consider leaving a bit later, possibly after sunset? My concern is that our presence during daylight could endanger neighbors who live near the house we’re going to strike, not to mention little children who could be playing in the street. Respectfully, Lieutenant, I wouldn’t want to be the one to tell their parents that their son or daughter might still be alive if we [had] waited a couple more hours.”
After a pause and a sip of water, the Iraqi officer nodded. The raid would not start until 8:00 p.m.
The high-value-target raid on that evening in February 2007 was aimed at capturing or killing a terrorist who had come to Fallujah all the way from Sudan. The suspect and the weapons he was smuggling into the city were almost certainly responsible for the deaths of several Iraqis and US troops, and taking him out was essential.
“Let’s go get this bag of trash,” Petty said before slamming the door of his Humvee. “We own the night.”
The Marines and Iraqis, equipped with thermal night vision, turned off their vehicle lights as their patrol descended on the suspected terrorist safe house. The Marines pulled up front, while the Iraqis parked just around the corner to keep watch. Above them, an F/A-18 provided reconnaissance from the night sky.
Travis, who had kicked in plenty of doors since his first days of Mojave Viper training in faux Iraqi villages, led the way inside the tiny, decaying house. But soon after they entered and got into position, it became apparent nobody was home.
“Your squeaker’s getting away,” the F/A-18 pilot said over the radio. “He’s headed for the mosque.”
“Motherfucker,” Petty said from the Humvee. “These bastards never cease to amaze me.”
As Travis and a fellow Marine, Sergeant Rich Olsen, walked out of the house, conversation outside shifted toward storming the mosque. Surely, some on the team believed, the end would justify the means, as the consequences of a bunch of Americans entering a holy site couldn’t be any worse than allowing a Sudanese terrorist to continue killing kids with his guns and bombs.
“Negative,” said Travis, interrupting one of the Marines who was talking about storming the mosque. “This is what we have the Iraqis here for.”
Not only could Muslim soldiers enter the mosque, but Travis, Kubicki, and fellow MiTT team officers had spent valuable time fostering a relationship with the local cleric. While the “bag of trash” probably tho
ught he had found his night’s refuge, Travis smiled as American and Iraqi troops cordoned off the mosque’s exterior. This guy had no idea what was about to hit him.
Minutes after a phone call to the cleric, Iraqi soldiers were dragging the foreign suspect out of the mosque, where many of their families prayed to Allah. All the American forces could initially do was watch as some Iraqi soldiers muttered expletives and pushed around the defeated suspect.
While Travis and his fellow Marines wouldn’t tolerate violence against any defenseless prisoner, they also understood the line between abuse and justice. The Iraqi soldiers regarded the Sudanese terrorist as the NYPD would 9/11 mastermind Khalid Sheikh Mohammed if he were captured in lower Manhattan. To the Iraqi troops, this was a murderer who had no business inside their country, and until the Americans intervened and took possession of the prisoner, they were going to get some payback. As was the case on any battlefield, emotions were running at levels that civilians who had never experienced them could not possibly comprehend. It certainly wasn’t the first time in history that an enemy combatant had been greeted with anger by his captors.
When the Iraqis handed over the prisoner to the Americans, Travis and Olsen took him to a makeshift interrogation room on a nearby forward operating base (FOB). Because of the Sudanese terrorist’s capture, one or more innocent Iraqi teenagers who would have been blown up as children are probably walking the streets of Fallujah today. The raid was a small but significant victory for both the MiTT team and the people of Iraq, and it went a long way toward building trust with the Iraqi soldiers, who appreciated the help of Travis and his patrol in making it happen.
On February 25, 2007, a tired but upbeat Travis sent another update to the e-mail list that included Tom, Janet, Ryan, Brendan, and many other close friends and relatives:
Tom Sileo Page 10