Final delivery (Desert Sabre recollections, final part)
The night of the 26th gave way to the morning of the 27th, and we had made our big right turn and were headed straight into the northern edge of the Iraqi positions. Just a bit to the south of us, 1st Armored Division was fighting a major engagement with the Medina Luminous division (Medina Ridge), while we were plowing through a couple of Iraqi divisions and—along with the 24th Infantry Division, to our north—closing the Iraqi escape routes to the the river valley.
Sometime after about 1400 local time on the 27th, we had moved into blocking positions and received orders to halt and consolidate our positions and forces. Our platoon sergeant, SFC Young, set a sleep plan, and I was fortunate enough to be selected to be the first on our tank to get to sleep. I grabbed my nomex jacket as a pillow, jumped out on the back deck of the tank, and it took about two seconds to fall into a deep slumber …
… so deep, that the next thing I knew I was being jostled awake rudely by my gunner, SGT Planter, who was kicking me as hard as he could on the bottoms of my boots, and screaming "GET THE FUCK UP GET THE FUCK UP" as loud as he could muster at me. At first, I didn't understand what was going on. Why am I being screamed at and why is he kicking me? I thought to myself, as I slowly realized that he wasn't the loudest thing going on at that moment. He was screaming because the sound of the Iraqi artillery falling all around our position hadn't woken me up, and it was the most noise he could make at me without actually hitting me in the head with the butt of an M-16 rifle.
When the realization hit me about what was going on, I scrambled to my knees, grabbed hold of the rear of the bustle rack of the turret, and hoisted myself onto the turret roof, just in time to hear the explosion of a round landing a few dozen meters away (and see SGT Planter disappear inside the turret through my loader's hatch). I fell inside the hatch, closed it up, looked at SGT Planter and mouthed "thanks." The whole troop was scrambling to back down into hide positions, while the squadron command net was blistering with reports of artillery fire and orders to displace.
In the turret, SGT Planter properly took up scanning his firing arc, watching in case the arty barrage was a precursor to a counter-attack by Iraqi forces. I spun my loader's hatch periscope toward the left rear of the turret, maintaining what air observation I could, as the LT was guiding SPC Thomas backward down the hill we were hidden behind. After a bit, we were down far enough that we couldn't see over the top of the ridgeline any more—in tank parlance, we were in a "hide" position, where none of the turret was exposed to the front, and the enemy—and the LT ordered SPC Thomas to give a hard right backward to turn around. SGT Planter kept the gun tube pointed toward the enemy, as I felt the jerking on the controls and the acceleration as Errol whipped our tank around at high speed. Oriented with the tank facing west, and the turret facing east, we high-tailed to the new assembly area and awaited additional orders. During our evac, I asked SGT Planter how long I had been sleeping, and he thought for a moment and said "just a couple of minutes."
It felt like hours. Truly, I felt invigorated. Partly that was the epinephrine coursing through my arteries after having been 1) rudely awakened from what was likely a near-immediate drop from wakefulness into delta sleep; and 2) feeling like I was only a little bit better aim—or worse timing—from being permanently attached to the land in Iraq, courtesy of an Iraqi artillery round. Partly, though, even a couple of minutes of sleep seemed to rejuvenate me, and I was much more alert.
After an electric few minutes waiting for the Iraqi counter-attack to materialize over the ridgeline, the squadron command net chirped to life with a new FRAGO, and the LT started mapping our new objective. There was some back-and-forth with the various commanders, including our Troop commander, and a new destination and mission were assigned. 3d ACR, as well as 24th Infantry Division, were establishing blocking positions to prevent the Republican Guard from simply retreating back across the Euphrates river, maybe about a hundred kilometers west of Az Zubayr and just south of the marshland on the south bank of the river valley. We had accomplished all of our objectives to this point, and were given some follow-on missions to support the efforts of VII Corps, to our south, in rendering the Republican Guard incapable of continued operations.
One of these missions was to move a few klicks to the east, to set up a blocking position on the right flank of the 24th, and the left flank of VII Corps, and establish essentially a screen line†. We ferried the LT to a meeting at the Troop TOC, where the updated orders were given and some additional information was disseminated. Of that, there were some "Lessons Learned" already available from the VII Corps' actions at both Medina Ridge, and the battle of 73 Easting. One of those, and the one I think that was the least surprising yet most assuring, was that of all the advantages our tanks had perhaps the most glaring was our ability to use the thermal imaging system to acquire and engage enemy targets at ranges well beyond that at which the Iraqi tanks could effectively fire. This by itself was a tremendous advantage, but also had been drilled into our heads from the very beginning (not only of Desert Shield, but in general). He who sees the enemy first shoots first, and shooting first equals killing first. Our tanks were, in some cases, able to acquire enemy tanks at 3000+ meters, and able to engage and destroy them on the first shot at ranges well over 2500+ meters with something like 90% first-shot hits. The sabot round of the 120mm M1A1 was easily able to penetrate frontal turret and hull armor of the Iraqi tanks at those ranges, and was achieving catastrophic kills of those targets with those long-range, first-shot hits. Additionally, we learned that several M1 tanks had taken direct hits from enemy tanks, some at very, very close range (less than 400 meters, in at least one case) with no friendly casualties from it.
There had been some issues with friendly fire, and we were warned to try harder to positively identify vehicles before firing on them. The Iraqis were not without some positives; their defense against the attack of the 1st Armored at Medina Ridge was shown as an effective method for them. They had arrayed a defense using a technique called a 'reverse slope' defense, where instead of being at or in front of the ridgeline, able to look across a long expanse of terrain, they were behind it, prepared to engage units as they crested the ridgeline. It didn't help much; the 1st Armored still didn't have any tank casualties due to enemy fire, but the rest of the US Army was given the heads-up about this action as a planning tool to enable us to anticipate and react to known enemy tactics.
After retrieving the LT and resuming our role on the screen line, there were some preparations. First, we were ordered to prepare in-place for what could be described as our "anvil" role; that is, if the VII Corps advance continued, we'd be the Anvil to their Hammer: they would drive the enemy toward us, and we'd be sitting in prepared positions to destroy the enemy with long-range firepower as the VII Corps continued to push them. Engineers came and prepared hasty defensive positions, and we set up a sleep and guard plan for the second time. This time, I volunteered for first guard duty. I was assigned to a walking patrol, given a radio and night vision goggles and my driver Errol was assigned to patrol with me while one of the other tanks put a watch in their TC's .50 cal spot. We did our patrols, were relieved at the appropriate time, and finally got a chance to sleep.
This time, we did sleep. Several hours worth, in fact. We were roused about 04:50 or so (28 FEB), and had a few minutes to tidy up and get ourselves into our highest state of readiness and alertness. After so doing, we took a few moments to finish up some basic maintenance tasks, walking track and checking various bolts for tightness, looking at our fuel and other consumable levels (hub lubrication and shock absorbers, for example), and so forth. We had an MRE breakfast, and while we were consuming it, another FRAGO came over the squadron command net: at 07:45 local time there would commence a large-scale artillery barrage, which would continue for about 16 minutes; then, at 08:01 local time, there would be a unilateral cease fire in place. We were stunned, frankly. I think we were all pretty much in disbelief about the message, and so nothing really changed for us, at that time.
Right on cue, at 07:45 local time, we could hear artillery and rocket fire commence. All of it seemed to be outbound; we never heard or saw anything coming back in our direction. At 08:01, silence.
Silence.
After about a quarter of a minute mostly spent craning our necks, as if incredulous at the lack of sounds of military activity, a great WHOOP! was let out by one or other of our nearby troop mates, and we gave a little prayer and celebrated: we did it! We lived, we were going to make it home.
After a few moments of celebrating, our platoon sergeant refocused us on our other tasks: continuing maintenance, making sure guard rotations were still in effect, resuming our tanker duties. After what seemed like only a few minutes, but was in reality I think about an hour or an hour and a half, the radio sparked to life again: another FRAGO. One of the problems with cutting off an enemy unit completely from their communications is that, in case there is a cease-fire, not all units may be aware of it, and continue to act as if the conflict is still in full effect. It's a common problem in warfare, and has happened numerous times throughout history, where a combatant unaware of the cessation of hostilities will engage an enemy, and the battle continues for a short time. Well, for us, that's what happened.
Just a little bit after the cease-fire kicked in, there had apparently been an aircraft shot down not too far away from our location; there was a rescue mission launched, and the medevac chopper sent to retrieve the pilot had also been shot down. The chopper was about ten or so klicks from our location, just to the west of Ar Rumaylah airfield. We were ordered to secure the crash site, destroy any enemy air defense in the area, and secure the airfield.
We mustered, received some additional information from the command net, and then began our assault eastward yet again. As we approached the crash site (which was to the north of my tank by a kilometer or so, in the Eagle troop 2/3 ACR sector), we started to encounter some bunker complexes and had to take up immediate RPG guard position; now, in addition to scanning the rear air for enemy aircraft, I also had to keep an eye out on the ground for RPG teams that might pop up from behind us, and take them out before they could fire on our tanks. I was eagle-eyed, maintaining a constant focus on every dip, bunker, or small rock where an enemy infantryman might try to cause my tank crew harm, but fortunately these were all empty. As we approached the ridgeline ahead, the scout platoon radioed contact with enemy forces, dug in tanks and PCs with anti-aircraft vehicles. The troop commander ordered tanks front, and we pulled through in a line formation to a position in turret defilade where we could see the airfield and their defending tanks. We were waiting for confirmation from the Squadron commander to engage, and SGT Planter was acquiring targets in his firing sector. Eagle Troop to our north was also preparing for a hasty attack. Finally, the Squadron commander gave the go-ahead, and the Troop commander issued his Troop fire command, and we began engaging targets.
With many of the tanks oriented toward Eagle Troop, we had clear shots at the air defense vehicles and BMPs that were arrayed on the southern end of the airfield. "GUNNER HEAT AA" started the fire command from the LT.
"IDENTIFIED" replied SGT Planter.
"UP!" I yelled, signifying that the HEAT round in the main gun breech was loaded and the gun was armed.
"FIRE AND ADJUST" ordered the LT.
"ON THE WAY!" SGT Planter's first shot at a Roland AA missile system was prematurely detonated by an unseen fence between us and it; his second shot destroyed the Roland system utterly.
I loaded a third HEAT round, yelled "UP!" into the intercom, and waited for SGT Planter to identify his next target; a BMP. Downrange the round went, followed by a shout of "TARGET" by SGT Planter indicating the BMP was hit, and the clanking of the aft cap on the turret floor as I slammed another HEAT round into the main gun. "UP!"
After what must have been a minute or two, we were ordered to continue to advance on the airfield, secure it, and await additional orders. We complied, and as we were approaching the burnt-out hulks of vehicles just on the outskirts of the airfield defenses, the scout platoon warned of a minefield at the airfield's edge. They marked the edges of it as best they could, and we bypassed to the south of the airfield. Engineers would come in after us, and take care of that little problem, so we continued our eastward advance.
As we were bypassing the mines, another FRAGO came: we were to advance to an OBJECTIVE to our east, where a dug-in enemy position had been seen by air crews, and secure it. Scouts front in a Vee formation, tank platoons behind in a line, we continued attacking eastward through undulating sand and rock terrain.
T-72 in the "crater" formations we discovered"RED 1, RED 3: CONTACT FRONT TANKS AND PCs OUT!" came from the lead scout vehicle; and the battle drill began. The scout CFVs were using their 25mm cannons to engage BMPs, while we were racing forward to find and destroy enemy tanks. The scout platoon leader reported to the Troop commander, while the Troop XO was relaying to the Squadron commander on the Squadron command net. As we approached the burning hulk of a BMP earlier destroyed by the scouts, we stopped for a moment to assess what had happened. In so doing, the LT and I popped out of our hatches, and realized that we were hip-deep into an enemy encampment, which the scouts had bypassed so quickly they didn't realize they had done so. The unit was a tank battalion of the Tawakalna Republican Guard division, and there were T-72s, BRDMs, trucks, jeeps, and portable trailers in what looked like simple craters dug out of the ground; from ground level more than a few meters away, they were invisible.
The LT reported to both the scout platoon leader, and to the Troop commander, his findings and assessment of the situation: we need to clear these features before moving forward. While waiting for the scouts to return, we were attacked by what appeared to be a single rifleman with his AK-47; I first engaged with my loader's M240 machine gun, and then the LT had SGT Planter turn the coax M240 on him.
The next few hours was spent guarding this location, as the intel guys came through; it turned out to be a pretty high-level headquarters for the Republican Guard unit, and included the capture of a battalion commander-equivalent CO of the Iraqi army, and a trailer full of encryption equipment, plans, maps, and so forth.
After we were cleared of the site, and pulled through to temporary positions about six kilometers east, we were ordered to halt and establish defensive positions overlooking a local road system (which, as it turns out, was Highway 8 and Freeway 1). We could overlook the highways from a commanding position, and stayed in this position for several more days. During that time, the 24th Infantry Division to our north reporting being fired upon from the highway, and engaged enemy units there; we were ordered to stay in a position to counter-attack if the 24th got into a protracted fight but never did get involved in that particular action.
Disabled Iraqi artillery piece, just left of "^ C6", which
was later used as a gunnery practice targetOver the next several days, we performed our normal maintenance duties, did guard patrols, did some gunnery practice, and finally got a chance to eat some hot food. Mail arrived, some of it more than a week old already, and we relished the opportunity to reconnect our brains with the thoughts of our loved ones, and being able to actually see them again, someday. It didn't take long; our heavy equipment was secured and transported in mid-March, and we flew out of the sandbox late on the 16th of March, 1991, arriving in El Paso on the morning of 18 March, 1991.
I believe we delivered our message, emphatically: if you don't leave Kuwait, we will destroy your military. There are questions about the long-term effect of Desert Storm, and some who believe that we didn't go far enough—that we should have turned left, and headed straight to Baghdad—but I'm satisfied with the mission we executed. I'll leave political questions like that to pundits and analysts, at least for now.
†: Screen line: a position for recon units, where they spread out in what amounts to a fairly thin line of observation posts, in an effort to visualize as much geography as possible. The purpose of said line is to be a screen on the flank, front, or rear of a larger force, to provide warning and initial attrition of enemy units before they are able to reach the main body of that larger unit.
Some of 2nd Platoon, C Troop, 1/3 ACR
displaying a captured Iraqi Tanker's
helmet after our attack through the Republican
Guard.
The author, posing with the same helmet
as in the previous picture.
Sometime after about 1400 local time on the 27th, we had moved into blocking positions and received orders to halt and consolidate our positions and forces. Our platoon sergeant, SFC Young, set a sleep plan, and I was fortunate enough to be selected to be the first on our tank to get to sleep. I grabbed my nomex jacket as a pillow, jumped out on the back deck of the tank, and it took about two seconds to fall into a deep slumber …
… so deep, that the next thing I knew I was being jostled awake rudely by my gunner, SGT Planter, who was kicking me as hard as he could on the bottoms of my boots, and screaming "GET THE FUCK UP GET THE FUCK UP" as loud as he could muster at me. At first, I didn't understand what was going on. Why am I being screamed at and why is he kicking me? I thought to myself, as I slowly realized that he wasn't the loudest thing going on at that moment. He was screaming because the sound of the Iraqi artillery falling all around our position hadn't woken me up, and it was the most noise he could make at me without actually hitting me in the head with the butt of an M-16 rifle.
When the realization hit me about what was going on, I scrambled to my knees, grabbed hold of the rear of the bustle rack of the turret, and hoisted myself onto the turret roof, just in time to hear the explosion of a round landing a few dozen meters away (and see SGT Planter disappear inside the turret through my loader's hatch). I fell inside the hatch, closed it up, looked at SGT Planter and mouthed "thanks." The whole troop was scrambling to back down into hide positions, while the squadron command net was blistering with reports of artillery fire and orders to displace.
In the turret, SGT Planter properly took up scanning his firing arc, watching in case the arty barrage was a precursor to a counter-attack by Iraqi forces. I spun my loader's hatch periscope toward the left rear of the turret, maintaining what air observation I could, as the LT was guiding SPC Thomas backward down the hill we were hidden behind. After a bit, we were down far enough that we couldn't see over the top of the ridgeline any more—in tank parlance, we were in a "hide" position, where none of the turret was exposed to the front, and the enemy—and the LT ordered SPC Thomas to give a hard right backward to turn around. SGT Planter kept the gun tube pointed toward the enemy, as I felt the jerking on the controls and the acceleration as Errol whipped our tank around at high speed. Oriented with the tank facing west, and the turret facing east, we high-tailed to the new assembly area and awaited additional orders. During our evac, I asked SGT Planter how long I had been sleeping, and he thought for a moment and said "just a couple of minutes."
It felt like hours. Truly, I felt invigorated. Partly that was the epinephrine coursing through my arteries after having been 1) rudely awakened from what was likely a near-immediate drop from wakefulness into delta sleep; and 2) feeling like I was only a little bit better aim—or worse timing—from being permanently attached to the land in Iraq, courtesy of an Iraqi artillery round. Partly, though, even a couple of minutes of sleep seemed to rejuvenate me, and I was much more alert.
After an electric few minutes waiting for the Iraqi counter-attack to materialize over the ridgeline, the squadron command net chirped to life with a new FRAGO, and the LT started mapping our new objective. There was some back-and-forth with the various commanders, including our Troop commander, and a new destination and mission were assigned. 3d ACR, as well as 24th Infantry Division, were establishing blocking positions to prevent the Republican Guard from simply retreating back across the Euphrates river, maybe about a hundred kilometers west of Az Zubayr and just south of the marshland on the south bank of the river valley. We had accomplished all of our objectives to this point, and were given some follow-on missions to support the efforts of VII Corps, to our south, in rendering the Republican Guard incapable of continued operations.
One of these missions was to move a few klicks to the east, to set up a blocking position on the right flank of the 24th, and the left flank of VII Corps, and establish essentially a screen line†. We ferried the LT to a meeting at the Troop TOC, where the updated orders were given and some additional information was disseminated. Of that, there were some "Lessons Learned" already available from the VII Corps' actions at both Medina Ridge, and the battle of 73 Easting. One of those, and the one I think that was the least surprising yet most assuring, was that of all the advantages our tanks had perhaps the most glaring was our ability to use the thermal imaging system to acquire and engage enemy targets at ranges well beyond that at which the Iraqi tanks could effectively fire. This by itself was a tremendous advantage, but also had been drilled into our heads from the very beginning (not only of Desert Shield, but in general). He who sees the enemy first shoots first, and shooting first equals killing first. Our tanks were, in some cases, able to acquire enemy tanks at 3000+ meters, and able to engage and destroy them on the first shot at ranges well over 2500+ meters with something like 90% first-shot hits. The sabot round of the 120mm M1A1 was easily able to penetrate frontal turret and hull armor of the Iraqi tanks at those ranges, and was achieving catastrophic kills of those targets with those long-range, first-shot hits. Additionally, we learned that several M1 tanks had taken direct hits from enemy tanks, some at very, very close range (less than 400 meters, in at least one case) with no friendly casualties from it.
There had been some issues with friendly fire, and we were warned to try harder to positively identify vehicles before firing on them. The Iraqis were not without some positives; their defense against the attack of the 1st Armored at Medina Ridge was shown as an effective method for them. They had arrayed a defense using a technique called a 'reverse slope' defense, where instead of being at or in front of the ridgeline, able to look across a long expanse of terrain, they were behind it, prepared to engage units as they crested the ridgeline. It didn't help much; the 1st Armored still didn't have any tank casualties due to enemy fire, but the rest of the US Army was given the heads-up about this action as a planning tool to enable us to anticipate and react to known enemy tactics.
After retrieving the LT and resuming our role on the screen line, there were some preparations. First, we were ordered to prepare in-place for what could be described as our "anvil" role; that is, if the VII Corps advance continued, we'd be the Anvil to their Hammer: they would drive the enemy toward us, and we'd be sitting in prepared positions to destroy the enemy with long-range firepower as the VII Corps continued to push them. Engineers came and prepared hasty defensive positions, and we set up a sleep and guard plan for the second time. This time, I volunteered for first guard duty. I was assigned to a walking patrol, given a radio and night vision goggles and my driver Errol was assigned to patrol with me while one of the other tanks put a watch in their TC's .50 cal spot. We did our patrols, were relieved at the appropriate time, and finally got a chance to sleep.
This time, we did sleep. Several hours worth, in fact. We were roused about 04:50 or so (28 FEB), and had a few minutes to tidy up and get ourselves into our highest state of readiness and alertness. After so doing, we took a few moments to finish up some basic maintenance tasks, walking track and checking various bolts for tightness, looking at our fuel and other consumable levels (hub lubrication and shock absorbers, for example), and so forth. We had an MRE breakfast, and while we were consuming it, another FRAGO came over the squadron command net: at 07:45 local time there would commence a large-scale artillery barrage, which would continue for about 16 minutes; then, at 08:01 local time, there would be a unilateral cease fire in place. We were stunned, frankly. I think we were all pretty much in disbelief about the message, and so nothing really changed for us, at that time.
Right on cue, at 07:45 local time, we could hear artillery and rocket fire commence. All of it seemed to be outbound; we never heard or saw anything coming back in our direction. At 08:01, silence.
Silence.
After about a quarter of a minute mostly spent craning our necks, as if incredulous at the lack of sounds of military activity, a great WHOOP! was let out by one or other of our nearby troop mates, and we gave a little prayer and celebrated: we did it! We lived, we were going to make it home.
After a few moments of celebrating, our platoon sergeant refocused us on our other tasks: continuing maintenance, making sure guard rotations were still in effect, resuming our tanker duties. After what seemed like only a few minutes, but was in reality I think about an hour or an hour and a half, the radio sparked to life again: another FRAGO. One of the problems with cutting off an enemy unit completely from their communications is that, in case there is a cease-fire, not all units may be aware of it, and continue to act as if the conflict is still in full effect. It's a common problem in warfare, and has happened numerous times throughout history, where a combatant unaware of the cessation of hostilities will engage an enemy, and the battle continues for a short time. Well, for us, that's what happened.
Just a little bit after the cease-fire kicked in, there had apparently been an aircraft shot down not too far away from our location; there was a rescue mission launched, and the medevac chopper sent to retrieve the pilot had also been shot down. The chopper was about ten or so klicks from our location, just to the west of Ar Rumaylah airfield. We were ordered to secure the crash site, destroy any enemy air defense in the area, and secure the airfield.
We mustered, received some additional information from the command net, and then began our assault eastward yet again. As we approached the crash site (which was to the north of my tank by a kilometer or so, in the Eagle troop 2/3 ACR sector), we started to encounter some bunker complexes and had to take up immediate RPG guard position; now, in addition to scanning the rear air for enemy aircraft, I also had to keep an eye out on the ground for RPG teams that might pop up from behind us, and take them out before they could fire on our tanks. I was eagle-eyed, maintaining a constant focus on every dip, bunker, or small rock where an enemy infantryman might try to cause my tank crew harm, but fortunately these were all empty. As we approached the ridgeline ahead, the scout platoon radioed contact with enemy forces, dug in tanks and PCs with anti-aircraft vehicles. The troop commander ordered tanks front, and we pulled through in a line formation to a position in turret defilade where we could see the airfield and their defending tanks. We were waiting for confirmation from the Squadron commander to engage, and SGT Planter was acquiring targets in his firing sector. Eagle Troop to our north was also preparing for a hasty attack. Finally, the Squadron commander gave the go-ahead, and the Troop commander issued his Troop fire command, and we began engaging targets.
With many of the tanks oriented toward Eagle Troop, we had clear shots at the air defense vehicles and BMPs that were arrayed on the southern end of the airfield. "GUNNER HEAT AA" started the fire command from the LT.
"IDENTIFIED" replied SGT Planter.
"UP!" I yelled, signifying that the HEAT round in the main gun breech was loaded and the gun was armed.
"FIRE AND ADJUST" ordered the LT.
"ON THE WAY!" SGT Planter's first shot at a Roland AA missile system was prematurely detonated by an unseen fence between us and it; his second shot destroyed the Roland system utterly.
I loaded a third HEAT round, yelled "UP!" into the intercom, and waited for SGT Planter to identify his next target; a BMP. Downrange the round went, followed by a shout of "TARGET" by SGT Planter indicating the BMP was hit, and the clanking of the aft cap on the turret floor as I slammed another HEAT round into the main gun. "UP!"
After what must have been a minute or two, we were ordered to continue to advance on the airfield, secure it, and await additional orders. We complied, and as we were approaching the burnt-out hulks of vehicles just on the outskirts of the airfield defenses, the scout platoon warned of a minefield at the airfield's edge. They marked the edges of it as best they could, and we bypassed to the south of the airfield. Engineers would come in after us, and take care of that little problem, so we continued our eastward advance.
As we were bypassing the mines, another FRAGO came: we were to advance to an OBJECTIVE to our east, where a dug-in enemy position had been seen by air crews, and secure it. Scouts front in a Vee formation, tank platoons behind in a line, we continued attacking eastward through undulating sand and rock terrain.
T-72 in the "crater" formations we discovered"RED 1, RED 3: CONTACT FRONT TANKS AND PCs OUT!" came from the lead scout vehicle; and the battle drill began. The scout CFVs were using their 25mm cannons to engage BMPs, while we were racing forward to find and destroy enemy tanks. The scout platoon leader reported to the Troop commander, while the Troop XO was relaying to the Squadron commander on the Squadron command net. As we approached the burning hulk of a BMP earlier destroyed by the scouts, we stopped for a moment to assess what had happened. In so doing, the LT and I popped out of our hatches, and realized that we were hip-deep into an enemy encampment, which the scouts had bypassed so quickly they didn't realize they had done so. The unit was a tank battalion of the Tawakalna Republican Guard division, and there were T-72s, BRDMs, trucks, jeeps, and portable trailers in what looked like simple craters dug out of the ground; from ground level more than a few meters away, they were invisible.The LT reported to both the scout platoon leader, and to the Troop commander, his findings and assessment of the situation: we need to clear these features before moving forward. While waiting for the scouts to return, we were attacked by what appeared to be a single rifleman with his AK-47; I first engaged with my loader's M240 machine gun, and then the LT had SGT Planter turn the coax M240 on him.
The next few hours was spent guarding this location, as the intel guys came through; it turned out to be a pretty high-level headquarters for the Republican Guard unit, and included the capture of a battalion commander-equivalent CO of the Iraqi army, and a trailer full of encryption equipment, plans, maps, and so forth.
After we were cleared of the site, and pulled through to temporary positions about six kilometers east, we were ordered to halt and establish defensive positions overlooking a local road system (which, as it turns out, was Highway 8 and Freeway 1). We could overlook the highways from a commanding position, and stayed in this position for several more days. During that time, the 24th Infantry Division to our north reporting being fired upon from the highway, and engaged enemy units there; we were ordered to stay in a position to counter-attack if the 24th got into a protracted fight but never did get involved in that particular action.
Disabled Iraqi artillery piece, just left of "^ C6", whichwas later used as a gunnery practice targetOver the next several days, we performed our normal maintenance duties, did guard patrols, did some gunnery practice, and finally got a chance to eat some hot food. Mail arrived, some of it more than a week old already, and we relished the opportunity to reconnect our brains with the thoughts of our loved ones, and being able to actually see them again, someday. It didn't take long; our heavy equipment was secured and transported in mid-March, and we flew out of the sandbox late on the 16th of March, 1991, arriving in El Paso on the morning of 18 March, 1991.
I believe we delivered our message, emphatically: if you don't leave Kuwait, we will destroy your military. There are questions about the long-term effect of Desert Storm, and some who believe that we didn't go far enough—that we should have turned left, and headed straight to Baghdad—but I'm satisfied with the mission we executed. I'll leave political questions like that to pundits and analysts, at least for now.
†: Screen line: a position for recon units, where they spread out in what amounts to a fairly thin line of observation posts, in an effort to visualize as much geography as possible. The purpose of said line is to be a screen on the flank, front, or rear of a larger force, to provide warning and initial attrition of enemy units before they are able to reach the main body of that larger unit.
Some of 2nd Platoon, C Troop, 1/3 ACRdisplaying a captured Iraqi Tanker's
helmet after our attack through the Republican
Guard.
The author, posing with the same helmetas in the previous picture.
No comments have been added yet.
