Black Hearts Part 6

Kunk was not in the mood for bad att.i.tudes. Surprisingly often, Kunk would discipline lower-ranked soldiers directly, and even more surprisingly, those sessions would frequently turn into profanity-laced arguments with entire squads or platoons that disintegrated into wideranging castigations of all the soldiersa faults. This was one of those times.

aYou are getting blown up because you are not following the proper tactics and procedures,a he declared. He upbraided Bravo Company for not doing their IED clearances as well as Alpha Company. He invoked the deaths of Britt and Lopez, saying they were dead because they hadnat cleared the route well. The men responded with a furious outpouring of ire, shouting that Britt had wanted to clear the route but he had been denied. Kunk p.r.o.nounced this claim to be bulls.h.i.t. He looked at Carrick. aWhat the f.u.c.k happened to you today?a he demanded. aWhat the f.u.c.k were you doing? Probably just walking down the f.u.c.king street not paying attention.a Carrick flushed with anger. aI did everything by the book, sir,a he said. aEOD told me to get closer.a aBulls.h.i.t!a Kunk yelled. aYou were not following the proper tactics, the proper methods.a af.u.c.k you, sir,a Carrick said, walking off as the men from 1st Platoon continued the row.

Sergeant First Cla.s.s Blaisdell was at Yusufiyah trying to get a mission under way. A few days earlier, they had caught some suspicious types driving around and found several weapons in their truck, boxes of propaganda, a few artillery sh.e.l.ls, and a handheld GPS device. Today, Blaisdell and parts of 3rd Platoon were planning on investigating some of the coordinates they had pulled off that GPS, a couple of spots in and around Rushdi Mullah. But the IED that took out Carrick had left him short-handed a fire team. He spotted Lieutenant Norton.

aOh, hey, sir, how you doing?a he said.

aHey, Blaisdell, whatas up? I heard what happened. Your guys okay?a aJust a few sc.r.a.pes. Everybody will be fine. Hey, you ever been to Rushdi?a aNever been.a aYou wanna come?a aYeah, sure.a aDude, I need a favor. Can you get like five guys? Because weare strapped with all those guys back at Mahmudiyah getting checked out.a aYeah, I think I can work it.a Norton found his platoon. aHey, I need a fire team to do this joint mission with 3rd Platoon.a aWhy?a some of them muttered. aThey never help us. f.u.c.k them.a Jesus, Norton thought, typical.

aLook, I am not playing this game,a Norton said. aWeare not rolling like that anymore. Bravo is Bravo, period, and we help each other out. So, whoas with me?a Sergeant Roman Diaz volunteered, along with Specialist David Babineau, Specialist Thomas Doss, and Specialist James Gregory. They talked to Bravo and battalion commands and wrote up the order. Everybody headed to TCP1 to stage. They prepped their gear and checked the maps and Blaisdell briefed the men.

aYou like it?a he asked Norton about the plan.

aLove it,a Norton said. Norton held the superior rank, but this mission was Blaisdellas show. Norton would be overseeing Diazas fire team, but Blaisdell was calling the shots.

Leaving at around 3:00 p.m., they started walking the three miles toward town. Nortonas five-man fire team split off and veered to the west to investigate one set of coordinates, toward what the map suggested was a farmhouse. They would inspect the scene, a suspected cache site, and also lie in wait and support two 3rd Platoon fire teams, led by Staff Sergeant Chris Arnold and Staff Sergeant Joe Whelchel, who all continued toward the other grid closer to town. Rounding out Blaisdellas crew were a handful of IAs and an interpreter. In a decision that would be second-guessed later, Blaisdell did not bring a medic.

Norton arrived at the farmhouse quickly. As his team approached, two men jumped into a blue hatchback, peeled out of the driveway, and sped off. Diaz asked if they should shoot.

Norton told him to hold fire, abut letas get to that house, call Blais, and tell him that car might be coming his way.a They half knocked on, half barged in the door and, typically, the only person there was an older woman. She was fl.u.s.tered and upset. Norton had studied Arabic in college, and after spending four months in country, he knew how to say most of the important questions. And while he couldnat follow the paragraph-long answers he frequently received, he could usually get the gist.

aWho just left in that car?a he asked.

The woman started talking and did not stop: aCar? aWhat car?a I donat know what youare talking abouta.a aThe car we just saw leave. Whereas the man of the house?a aHeas not hereagonealong timea.a Her favorite phrase was amaku,a which means athereas isnat any.a She repeated it often. Norton told the men to search the house. They found a CD hidden in some blankets, but they had no idea what was on it, and an AK-47, which was not incriminating because U.S. policy allowed every family to have one rifle. Then they uncovered some propaganda leaflets, a laminating machine, and other ID-making equipment. All of which was more suspicious, but not worth arresting a fifty-year-old woman over.

Norton ordered Gregory and Diaz to dismantle the weapon, take the ammo, and start searching the field out back while he continued to talk to the woman. Donat go far, he told them, no more than seventy-five meters out. They went outside and less than a minute latera"dit, dit, dita"rounds from what sounded like a machine gun started hitting around the house.

aJesus Christ!a Norton exclaimed. aBabineau,a he said, aget Blaisdell on the radio and see what is going on,a and he headed out the back door to find Gregory and Diaz.

As Babineau was trying to call Blaisdell, Blaisdell and the men of 3rd Platoon were diving for cover. Insurgents had set up at least two firing positions with multiple men each. They had pinpointed both U.S. elements and had opened fire on them simultaneously. This was a sophisticated group. Minutes ago, 3rd Platoon had reached their target house and taken it down flawlessly. Whelchel and his fire team kicked in the door and secured the family inside, some women and an old man, quickly and with no violence, while Arnold and his fire team secured the perimeter. As Arnold set up a hasty traffic control point on the road about a hundred and fifty yards from the house, he noticed a woman walking with a couple of her cows. A few moments later, he watched her split off from her cattle, leaving them in the road as she ducked into a houseas courtyard. Uh-oh, Arnold thought.

The rest of Blaisdellas men had searched the house and were digging around the yard and scanning it with a metal detector, but they werenat finding anything. aWe were getting ready to go,a said Blaisdell, awhen the world just f.u.c.king erupted with machine gun fire.a Some soldiers ran up to the roof to see where the shots were coming from. The shooters were northwest a couple of hundred yards. aI think we stumbled upon some kind of meeting, and they got scared thinking we were there to raid them,a Blaisdell said. aWe werenat even planning to go anywhere past those two objectives. My guys by the road said a bunch of cars started taking off when the firing started. I think they left a fire team back just to deal with us, pretty much to die in place if we decided to fight them.a There were several gunmen, perhaps many gunmen, on the move and shooting straight down the street.

Whelchel, Specialist Kirk Reilly, Specialist Anthony aChada Owens, and Specialist Jay Strobino started to maneuver to the shooters, who seemed to be consolidating at a house farther up the road. Whelchelas fire team headed out of the house and met up with Arnold and his men, who were behind a berm. From that position, Arnold had been able to set up a base of return fire. As they were talking about next moves, they saw a heavily armed fighter run across the street toward the house. Several of them opened fire, but the man successfully scampered to his destination.

With Arnoldas guys laying down more covering fire, Whelchel, Strobino, and Reilly crossed the street and headed toward the new target house. Blaisdell and the rest of his men joined Arnoldas support position. Sneaking down a back alley, Whelchelas team stumbled upon an old man cowering behind the external staircase of his house. Trembling, he gestured one house over. They approached that house, which had a large hedgerow too thick to bowl through, so Strobino flung himself over the top. Landing in the corner of the yard, he could see two insurgents milling around a Toyota pickup, no more than fifty yards away. They were walking a.r.s.enals, wearing suicide vests and carrying AKs. There was another insurgent in the pickup bed loading it with mortars, RPGs, and packs of explosives. Past them was the side of the house. Reilly and Whelchel were trying to make it over the hedge, while Strobinoas mind went into overdrive. aMy guys are making too much noise,a he thought. aBut I canat tell them to shut up, acause these Hadjis will hear me. But itall take too many shots to get them all before one of them gets me.a All he could do, he decided, was to try to catch one of his buddiesa eyes, while also hoping one of them got over the hedge quickly and quietly.

Outside the farmhouse, Norton found Diaz and Gregory, p.r.o.ne and returning fire toward multiple muzzle flashes a few hundred yards away. Norton wanted to flank them to the west. He told Diaz and Gregory to keep occupying the shooters.

aWe donat know where Blais is,a Norton yelled, aso watch where youare shooting! Only shoot at targets you can hit!a He grabbed Doss, planning to head west to the back of the field and then hook hard north and open another position of fire on them. Doss and Norton started running through the farm, which was like an open manger. Within a few strides, they were covered in manure from a variety of species. Rounds started zinging around their heads, too. as.h.i.t,a thought Norton, amore gunmen than I thought!a Norton changed course and doubled back to where Diaz and Gregory were. Just as he approached thema"fwomp, kabooma"a rifle-mounted grenade sh.e.l.l exploded right behind them, knocking Norton and Doss off their feet. Norton didnat like this at all. The four of them were exposed in an open field and they had accurate fire bearing down on them.

aGet back, get back to the house!a he yelled. aBreak contact, break contact!a They withdrew in twos, with Diaz and Gregory laying fire while Norton and Doss headed back to the house, and then Norton and Doss firing as Diaz and Gregory backed up. aBabineau! You got Blaisdell yet?a Norton asked. They could hear multiple explosions, more than several distinct rifles and machine guns firing in the distance.

aI ainat got s.h.i.t,a said Babineau.

The two insurgents outside the pickup turned to talk to each other, and something Strobinoas way caught their attention. Just as they turned, Strobino opened fire on them both. Both men went down, just as Whelchel dropped down beside Strobino and opened fire on the man in the truckas flatbed. One of the downed men was still going, reaching for his weapon. Whelchel shot him several more times. As Reilly heaved over the hedge, Whelchel and Strobino saw an AK muzzle and two hands poke around the corner of the house and spray them with fire. They all hit the ground.

Whelchel said, aIam going to throw a grenade.a Strobino said, aIall follow.a Whelchel untaped it, pulled the pin, and lobbed it over to the front of the house. The moment after it exploded, Strobino sprinted to the wall of the house flush with them, while Whelchel and Reilly ran as far as the truck. His back against the wall, Strobino could see Whelchel and Reilly in front of him, behind the truck. Peeking around the corner to the front of the house, he could see a small piece of the insurgentas muzzle poking out the front door. He thought for a second that he could sneak along the front wall and grab the muzzle while shooting the guy by holding his own rifle like a pistol. But there was a large front window between the corner and the door that the insurgent could see him through. He snapped back around the corner to think.

Whelchel yelled, aIs he there?a Strobino gave him a shut-the-f.u.c.k-up face and whisper-yelled, aYeah, heas right f.u.c.king there!a Strobinoas split-second plan: Speed. Head jump around the corner as fast as he could, never mind the window, and maybe head have time to slap the barrel out of the way long enough to get a shot off. He put his M4 on its three-round-burst setting and flung himself around the corner. He almost b.u.mped into the insurgent, who had also decided on a bold frontal attack. Strobino got his shots off first, and the three rounds knocked the man backward. As the man fell away, he pulled his own trigger, spraying Strobino with bullets. Strobino caught one bullet in the forearm and his hand involuntarily flung his weapon away. He took another bullet to his leg that snapped his femur, so the very next step he took backwards, his momentum carried him around the corner, but he fell to the ground, landing on top of one of the insurgents they had killed a minute earlier.

From behind the truck, Whelchel yelled, aWhat happened?a aI hit him but heas still going,a said Strobino.

aAre you hit?a aYeah, Iam hit. I canat move my arm or my leg.a aGive me your grenade,a Whelchel said as Reilly started moving forward to apie the cornera as Strobino had just done. While trying to open his grenade pouch with his one good arm, Strobino saw a grenade come flying from the front of the house over the top of the truck. Whelchel dropped down behind the truck, where fuel was pouring out of a punctured gas tank. Whelchel caught sight of the fighteras foot stepping out from the corner and popped a three-round burst from underneath the pickup, hitting just above a pair of black tennis shoes.

Strobino heard the grenade go off and Reilly scream. And he heard nothing from Whelchel. aTheyare both dead,a he thought. Then the insurgent came flying around the corner. aThis is it, Iam dead too,a Strobino thought. The emotions that washed over him were more anger and depression than fear. aHow come I have to die in this horrible country?a he thought. But either the man was surprised to see Strobino lying there, or he was recoiling in pain from Whelchelas shots, because he jumped back around the corner, pointed his weapon down, and started pouring more bullets into Strobino. Strobino rolled into the dead man he was lying on top of, taking four bullets in the front of his vest, two in his side, two to the back of his vest, two more in the leg, and a tracer round to the neck. Having been shot a total of seven times in the flesh and six times in the vest, he did not feel much pain. His bigger worry was whether the insurgent was coming back. He was more afraid of getting captured alive and being tortured than dying, so he pretended to be dead. After a few seconds, it became clear the insurgent must have retreated again. Whelchel started calling him again.

aBino! Bino! Are you alive?a Strobino felt a wave of euphoria wash over him. aNot only am I alive, but Whelchel is alive too!a he thought, suddenly in a deliriously good mood.

aYeah, Iam here,a he replied.

aDo you still have that grenade?a It had fallen out of Strobinoas pouch when he got shot, so he rolled over, picked it up with his left arm, and tried to throw it to Whelchel. But being a natural righty and severely injured, he could only flip it halfway. The look of disappointment on Whelchelas face as it plopped between them was heartbreaking and comical to Strobino all at once. Reilly, who had taken shrapnel in his legs and groin from the grenade, ran up to Strobino, grabbed him by the loop of his vest, and started pulling him toward the back of the house. aOh, wow,a Strobino thought, aReillyas still alive too. This is great! Weare all alive!a As he got dragged, however, the pain came on hard. Every inch he was dragged, his leg, gushing blood and oozing flesh, hurt worse than anything head ever experienced.

aSomebody get down here! I need more guys,a Whelchel screamed into his radio. He had taken some shrapnel near his eye, and blood was running down his face. Blaisdell and several soldiers moved forward to help Whelchel. Whelchel lobbed the grenade at the front of the house and then pulled back to pull security on Reilly as he gave Strobino first aid. Reilly wrapped the leg, applied a tourniquet, and asked Strobino if he was ready. Strobino had seen the movies. He knew what was going to happen. Reilly would crank the tourniquet, the pain would be so unbearable that he would pa.s.s out, and then head wake up in a few days in a nice hospital in Germany with pretty nurses and strawberry ice cream.

aYeah, Iam ready,a Strobino said. Reilly cranked, Strobino screamed. And screamed, and screamed, fully conscious of excruciating pain.

Blaisdell responded to Babineauas hails. aI need you guys up here now. I got multiple wounded.a Ordinarily, that would be bad news, but all Norton could think was, aThank Christ. Theyare not all dead.a aOkay. Where you at?a he asked.

aJust head up the center road and youall see us.a Since the fire to their farmhouse had petered away as soon as they took cover inside, Norton grabbed the bolt from the dismantled AK-47, which rendered it useless even if the woman could rea.s.semble it, left her there, and took his guys to meet 3rd Platoon. Blaisdell radioed for a medevac and sent several guys to prep a landing zone and several more to secure the perimeter of the house.

This was far from the only emergency that the battalion was dealing with that day, however. At almost exactly the same time that Blaisdell was calling for a medevac, soldiers in Delta Company were facing a catastrophe themselves. Just before 5:00 p.m., a two-vehicle convoy hit a ma.s.sive IED on a road parallel to Route Tampa. The IEDas location was chosen well and the explosives were perfectly concealed. Made of two or three 155mm artillery sh.e.l.ls, the bomb rested in a sharp dip and curve in the road. Even traveling slowly, soldiers in Humvees would have had a hard time spotting it before they were practically on top of it. The detonation was perfectly timed, ripping the center of the truck apart and leaving the front and the back relatively untouched. Platoon leader First Lieutenant Garrison Avery, gunner Specialist Marlon Bustamante, and driver Private First Cla.s.s Caesar Viglienzone were all killed instantly, their bodies ripped to flaming pieces and thrown, along with ma.s.sive hunks of the truck, as far as seventy-five yards by the blast.

The 1st Platoon fire team spotted Whelchel, who waved them forward. The medevac chopper, which had just come from the Delta IED site, started its approach toward the landing zone about two hundred yards away. Because Strobino could not move his leg and was in agonizing pain, it took about six people to carry him to the bird. Blaisdell supported one of Strobinoas arms while members of 1st Platoon took his other arm and legs. Reilly ran alongside pushing up on his hips. As they loaded him into the chopper and Reilly hopped in as well, Blaisdell looked Strobino in the eyes and then kissed him on the forehead. Fully loaded, the medevac lifted off at 5:40 p.m.*

Back at Freedom Rest, Goodwin was feeling better than he had in months. Since it was getting to be a reasonable hour in the morning back in the States, he had just logged on to IM and pinged his wife.

aDid you hear?a she typed.

aHear what?a he responded.

aThere is a communications blackout down in Yusufiyah. I was talking to Justin and all of a sudden the line went dead.a It is not uncommon in the information age for the company commanderas wife or some other representative of the family support group back home to get daily updates on the unitas goings-on. In this case, Goodwinas wife just happened to be getting an update from Bravoas executive officer, Justin Habash, at exactly the moment things started getting hairy.

aNo,a Goodwin typed. aI gotta go. Iall talk to you later.a Goodwinas heart began to race and blood rushed to his head. He was having trouble thinking. aThis is exactly why I didnat want to go,a he thought, aif something happened when I wasnat there. And now it has. Phone. Need a phone.a Goodwin rushed to the front desk and said, aI need a phone, I need a phone. Now.a He dialed through to Habash. aHey, Justin, whatas going on?a aWeave been in a firefight. Third platoon. Rushdi Mullah. Looks bad.a aFreedom Rest is over,a Goodwin thought. He started calling around, trying to get on a Black Hawk back to Yusufiyah.

aSorry,a he was told, athere are none available until the morning.a There was a lull. A long lull. The helicopter had evacuated the wounded, but there was still one fighter inside the house. They couldnat tell if he was dead or wounded. Maybe he had b.o.o.by-trapped the house, maybe he was just lying in ambush. Whatever he was doing, he wasnat firing anymore. The 3rd Platoon and 1st Platoon men conferred. An Apache Longbow combat helicopter buzzed overhead.

aHow do you want to go about this?a Blaisdell asked Norton. After floating several options, they decided to do a amad minute,a shooting rounds into every window and lobbing rifle-fired grenades in there as well, hoping to kill the insurgent or, if he survived, enrage or frighten him into shooting back. They shot hundreds of rounds and several grenades into the house. The grenades ignited something in the house. Smoke began to leak out of one window. When they ceased fire, nothing. No response from the house.

aNow what?a asked Blaisdell.

aAir strike?a Norton offered.

aJust what I was thinking.a aRequesting destroy,a Blaisdell radioed to the pilot.

aRoger,a replied the Apache. But, the pilot followed up, aWeare not sure which house it is. Can you confirm?a Blaisdell and Norton looked at each other.

aUm, itas the one thatas on fire, over.a aSorry, still canat make it out. Canat see a fire.a aOkay, weall point some lasers at it.a Everybody had a PEC2 laser-pointing device, which can be seen only with infrared optics. Blaisdell called the men around and had them lay a beam on the house. They had more than a dozen targeting the house.

Sorry, came the word from the Apache, canat make anything out. We canat read PEC2s.

aSeriously, what the f.u.c.k,a Norton said to Blaisdell as Blaisdell radioed the pilot.

aUm, how about a Phoenix?a A Phoenix is also an infrared signaling system, but itas a throwable beacon about the size of a baseball, powered by a nine-volt battery.

aRoger, thatad be good,a said the pilot.

Norton turned to the men. aWho wants to go throw this on the house? Anyone? Anyone?a af.u.c.k it,a responded Diaz, aIall do it.a aBe careful,a Norton said, athat guy might have set up a shooting position by now.a Diaz grabbed the Phoenix, ran out about a hundred yards into the street, and heaved it. It landed short of the house, bounced in front of a car out front, and, in a one-in-a-million throw, flew into the caras open window. Diaz returned out of breath.

aStrobe is activated, can you read?a aNegativea came the call.

aMotherf.u.c.ker!a Blaisdell shouted. The roof of the car might be blocking the signal, the guys hypothesized. Maybe it broke. Diaz shook his head, swore, rousted himself, and sprinted back out, all the way to the car, where he reached inside, pulled out the strobe, and put it on top of the car, then hauled back.

aHow about now?a Blaisdell asked the pilot.

aRoger,a he replied.

aThank G.o.d,a they exclaimed.

aRequest destroy,a Blaisdell said.

aI am not approved for h.e.l.lfire,a the pilot said, referring to the rockets that are the Apachesa main weapons system.

aWhat is the point of being out here, then?a one of the guys muttered.

aWe are approving you,a said Blaisdell, looking at Norton, who nodded. aWe are the on-ground commanders.a aNegative,a said the pilot. aThat is a no-go. I need clearance from my chain of command.a Another round of awhat the f.u.c.ka mutterings from all the men. The pilot came back a moment or two later and said, ah.e.l.l-fires denied.a The men let loose with a long and committed round of profanities.

aBut I can do a gun run,a said the pilot. Apaches have a 30mm cannon for strafing.

aRoger, do it,a said Blaisdell. Apaches are like hovering tanks. They are designed to move slowly, rise up out of the tree line, unleash a h.e.l.lacious h.e.l.lfire barrage on big targets such as bunkers, armored vehicles, and artillery batteries, and then recede. Unlike nimbler helicopters, Apaches are not particularly good at close-quarters combat or strafing. aYouare gonna need to push your cordon out,a the pilot said.

aRoger.a The men moved about fifty yards farther back from the house, finding refuge in a stable filled with livestock.

aOkay, we are coming in,a said the Apache. aGuns are hot, and we are cleared.a The Apache came in drastically short, hitting very close to the stable where the men had taken refuge. Doss was sitting near a mud-wall berm when the first of the Apacheas rounds impacted twenty to thirty yards away from him, blowing that part of the berm to particles. Doss, taken totally by surprise, was blown off his seat and accidentally squeezed a burst from the light machine gun he was carrying. The first run completely missed the target house, shooting up the livestock field between them and the house. One of the cows got hit and started moaning in a sickening and nerve-racking wail.

aDescribe effects,a said the pilot.

aDescribe effects?!a shouted Blaisdell. aYou almost hit us, you jacka.s.s! That s.h.i.t is danger close! You did not, repeat not, hit the target!a After a minute or two of the cow caterwauling and writhing in pain, Norton said, aI canat f.u.c.king stand this,a stood up, and shot the cow in the head. It gave a final moo-gasp and fell to the ground. Sheep and goats and chickens scurried around the men in various states of distress. The Apache swung around and returned, this time moving much more slowly. It almost hovered above the house and fired six to eight rounds that blew some sizable holes into and through the house, but the structure remained standing.

aOkay, youare good,a said the pilot, who pulled back to circling distance. This was not at all what they had had in mind.

aWhat in the f.u.c.k do I have to do to get a house blown up around here?!a Blaisdell yelled. aSeriously,a he asked Norton, awhat do I have to do?a aI donat know, man, I donat know,a replied Norton. aWe told him everything.a Blaisdell and Norton conferred between themselves and talked to the TOC and they decided to breach the house. Arnold took the lead, with Specialist Owens and Specialist David Shockey behind. They threw a frag grenade into the foyer and piled through the front door. They did not have a floor plan, and they had discussed how they had no idea what the layout of the house would be, but Arnold found the entryway even more confusing than expected. It was a tiny vestibule with four doors leading off of it, each covered with a sheet, and the house was filled with a haze of smoke. Moving clockwise, they cleared the first two rooms. They had all just regrouped back in the foyer and Arnold had started moving into the third room when the insurgent, in the fourth room, started firing into the foyer. Owens got hit with multiple rounds, slumped, and started screaming. Shockey, the number-three man, tripping up on Owens, took several bullets too. Arnold, whose momentum had carried him out of the line of fire, stepped to the side of the doorway and pumped rounds through the sheet covering the fourth door as Shockey pulled Owens out. Arnold followed them both.

Norton, Diaz, and Gregory rushed forward to pull Owens out of the front yard, and Blaisdell called in another medevac. Arnold prepped a grenade and threw it into the house. Norton, Diaz, and Gregory started working on Owens. Head been shot several times and his breathing was labored. He could not speak and was barely responsive. Shockey had been hit in the leg. He was in pain, but he would be fine. By 6:25 p.m., the second medevac had arrived, taking Owens and Shockey. Shockey did not want to leave the battlefield and had to be ordered onto the bird. Owensas injuries looked serious, but the men were optimistic. Everybody had seen worse, and they were getting him to the hospital well within the golden hour. He was not speaking, but he squeezed Blaisdellas hand as they loaded him aboard.

Goodwin was still trying to get on a flight, but nothing was opening up. He called Habash back and found out that the situation had deteriorated. Owens, Habash told him, was dead. He died from ma.s.sive internal bleeding forty minutes after the medevac picked him up. Goodwin headed straight to the front desk of the hotel.

aWhen you guys checked us in, you said we could talk to Combat Stress,a Goodwin said. aI need them now. Right now. I donat care where theyare at. I donat care if theyare at frigging chow. I need to talk to them right now.a Goodwin spent three hours talking to two different members of Combat Stress. Topics ranged from the responsibility he felt when soldiers under his command died, to his relationship with Kunk, to his constant sensation that he was barely keeping his head above water. After he finished with them, he made more calls about finding a helicopter back to Yusufiyah. Actually, came the answer, if you get down to LZ Washington, we might be able to get you a flight tonight. Goodwin walked back to the front desk. aI need my gear,a he said. aI need to get out of here.a Owens was dead, another soldier had been injured, and the men in Rushdi Mullah were right back where they were several hours ago. There was an insurgent in the house and they did not know if he was alive or dead. Blaisdell got back on the radio to request h.e.l.lfire destruction of the house. He was tired of putting his men at risk when there were multimillion-dollar choppers out there that could end this with one missile. This time, Blaisdellas request was approved. aAnother scenario where somebody has to die in order to get what you want,a Norton later observed.

It was 9:00 p.m. The bird came back in. Again, it could not acquire the target house. Itas the same house you guys already fired on, Blaisdell said, incredulous. It has dead insurgents in front of it, and it is on firea"what more do you need? Negative, came the response from the helicopter, we canat see it. Again, they shined lasers and threw beacons at it and, again, nothing worked. Finally, Blaisdell ran up to the house so he could capture an eight-digit grid location of it, and he pa.s.sed the exact coordinates up to the helicopter.

With the grid in hand, the helicopter fired one rocket. It missed.

aI think Iam going to hit it again,a said the pilot. The men looked at each other: Again? He circled around and fired two more missiles, both of which slammed home, finally reducing the house to smoking rubble. A patrol to the house confirmed that the final insurgent was finally dead. That night, Blaisdellas and Nortonas men took over a house nearby to wait for EOD to show up the next day to deal with the suicide vests and to make sure more insurgents didnat try to retrieve the bodies. First Sergeant Laskoski and a Bravo relief patrol showed up bringing food, water, and more ammo.

Back at LZ Washington, Goodwin spotted two of his men, Shockey and Reilly.

aWhat are you guys doing here?a Goodwin asked.

aWe got tore up, sir.a Medevaced out, they had been treated and released. Now they were looking for rides back to Yusufiyah themselves.

Third Platoon left the next morning as elements from Headquarters and Headquarters Company, Explosive Ordnance Disposal, and more relief units arrived. EOD retrieved the insurgentsa explosives and, after photographing and a.n.a.lyzing the vests, blew them up. Pa.s.sports found on the fighters indicated one was Yemeni, one was Lebanese, and two were Syrians. The mission was not over, however. Word came down that Brigade wanted to air-evacuate the insurgentsa bodies out. This was not unheard of, but after a daylong battle and an overnight away from the FOB, most of the men were not excited about babysitting and playing taxi service to a bunch of dead enemies.

The helicopters never arrived. The delays were various: The birds had to refuel, so they sent another tandem from another base. But they got diverted into another mission, so the original copters were back on the job. But one had a mechanical malfunction, so they headed back again. One hour stretched into three and then five.

Norton called up to ask if photos of the insurgents were good enough, distinguishing marks, scars? Negative, came the call, higher headquarters wants the bodies. Kunk was getting involved on the radio chatter too, and he was getting heated. He wanted his men out of there, but Ebel or somebody higher than him was insisting on retrieving the bodies. Sitting in the same position for hours on end, the men started taking mortar fire and sporadic small-arms fire. Bravo was getting more and more irritated. Norton called in to see if they could get some mortars to counterfire on the insurgentsa mortar positions.

aNegativea came the word. aThere are high-tension power wires in the area, and there is collateral damage risk.a aOkay, when one of their mortars. .h.i.ts us, I will let you know,a Norton snapped back. aAnd if you donat hear from us, itas because weare dead.a They were still waiting for the helicopters when some men pulling guard on the roof noticed lots of women and children fleeing Rushdi Mullah. More than a hundred of them, in an orderly evacuation. They had donkeys, carts, and shopping bags filled with clothes and goods. Soon after that, three or four Bongo trucks drove up from the power plant and parked on the outskirts of town, at different points, like they were cordoning off the town from the west, just as the Army had done from the east the night before. This was not looking good.

HHC commander Shawn Umbrell had been dismayed that the Bravo relief group had not arrived with as much weaponry and supplies as he would have expected. Now he was downright alarmed and frustrated. aI was thinking we were not ready for a fight here,a he said. aWe needed to get the h.e.l.l out of there.a The officers and NCOs conferred. This is a fight weare dying to have, they told each other, but weare just not prepared for it.

aWhere are the birds?a they asked the higher command.

aStill an hour, hour and a half out.a aThat is not doable,a Norton said. aWe cannot stay here any longer. We have multiple Bongos cordoning the town, women and children fleeing, and we are taking fire. We need to get out of here.a aThe order is to hold your positiona came the response. Norton just about lost it. He threw the mic to his radioman, because he did not trust himself to remain civil on the radio.

aYou tell those motherf.u.c.kers, if they want to G.o.dd.a.m.n identify these people, I will gladly cut off their f.u.c.king heads, put them in my bag, and f.u.c.king throw them right on top of Ebel and Kunkas desks.a The radioman translated like a pro: aUh, Bulldog 1-6 says it is getting pretty hairy out here, and he is in favor of, uh, alternative means of identifying these bodies. And, uh, I donat think anyone is going to be thrilled with what heas come up with, over.a Umbrell got on the radio. Laskoski got on the radio. Minutes of heated discussion ensued. Finally, word came down. Kunk was putting an end to this, regardless of what Brigade or Division wanted.

aYouare good to go,a they were told. aYouare cleared to walk out. Just leave the bodies there.a * Strobino would undergo dozens of reconstructive surgeries over the next year, but he would retain both limbs and make an almost 100 percent recovery. He would also receive the Silver Star, the militaryas third-highest award for valor.

17.

Fenlason Arrives.

IN THE AFTERMATH of the February 1 firefight, Rushdi Mullah took on a new importance in the battalionas battle plan. While First Strike always knew that the area was an insurgent stronghold, they were now slowly mapping that terrain, piecing together the intelligence. As Alpha and Delta Companies were having measurable success in Mahmudiyah itself, the battalion was able to focus more on pushing farther and farther west. Air a.s.saults and patrols to the town became more frequent, with platoons being sent out there for three or four days to set up a hasty patrol base, make some trouble for insurgents, and then withdraw as another platoon arrived either immediately or a few days later. Any trip up there, soldiers knew, guaranteed a firefight.

On February 4, Goodwin headed to Mahmudiyah for the memorial for Specialist Owens and the three other soldiers from Delta who had died in the IED strike. Sergeant First Cla.s.s Jeff Fenlason had just arrived, so Goodwin met his new platoon sergeant. Over an hour-and-a-half conversation, Goodwin gave him as full a brief as he could.

aSecond and Third Platoons are running on cruise control at this point,a Goodwin told Fenlason. aThey have firm leadership in place and have been running smoothly for some time. But First Platoon has been beaten up pretty bad. They need some tough love, but donat be afraid to hug them once in a while. In the morning, weall get out after it.a Before dawn the next day, someone shook Goodwin awake.

aHey, sir, are you awake?a aI am now. Whatas up?a aHey, sir, your TOCas on fire.a aWhat?a aSir, your TOC is on fire.a aTheyare in contact?a aNo, sir, not taking fire. On fire. In flames. Your TOC is on fire.a aOkay.a Goodwin paused to take it all in.