My Men are My Heroes (15 page)

They didn't know it yet, but the war had barely begun.

Kasal's world in the months preceding the battle for Fallujah revolved around a single reinforced battalion of Marines, the Thundering Third. His focus was on his men. They were spread over 850 square kilometers of inhospitable ancient Mesopotamia full of Iraqis who alternately loved, hated, attacked, or ignored the Marines. 3/1 was irrevocably mated to the rest of the 1st Marine Regiment for support, the 1st Marine Division for direction. Above the fighting Marines was a maze of commands and commanders debating over the best ways to control the burgeoning insurgency.

When 3/1 arrived in al-Anbar province in June 2004 the gruesome murders of four American civilian contractors on March 1 that fired the Marine occupation of al-Anbar province in the first place had fled the front pages. Where their burned corpses had been hung in the wind on the infamous “Brooklyn Bridge” in Fallujah only a painted-over eulogy remained. The rage that followed the
disgusting events had been replaced by more rage over equally despicable acts in the region. Tensions were high and secular violence was on the rise. So fittingly the Marines were dropped into the hottest spot in Iraq, al-Anbar province, the home of the Sunni minority that had ruled Iraq for almost four decades.

Despite the carnage that hovered over Fallujah and the rest of the province, there was new thinking from up high that embraced benevolence, patience, and fair play when the Third arrived. Restraint was the order of the day. The Marines were there to “win the hearts and minds” of the Iraqis, certainly many of whom detested them. It was a jaded phrase and a tenuous proposition—and it was orders. The Marines were told to play nice with their Iraqi neighbors or pay the price.

At the time of OIF 2 deployment the Thundering Third was commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Willard “Willy” Buhl, a mild-mannered Californian of medium height who still carries the build of his wrestling days on his stout frame. Like all Marines Buhl stays sharp and neat but without some of the excess starch that stiffens so many others. His personality was perfect for the situation in al-Anbar province. By nature he is a friendly man who looks for the best in other people. Perhaps because he is also half Sicilian and half Irish, he has a dark side as well as a quick smile and a gift for gab. More than a few Iraqis who confused kindness with weakness would one day pay the price for their mistake.

Any Marine who served with him will say Buhl wasn't made in the ordinary mold of Marine officers. He is outwardly friendly, relaxed, and full of modern ideas about personal relationships and the art of command. He doesn't bark, snap, or snarl to expend his nervous energy. He burns it up visiting his troops, getting to know them, finding out what makes them howl. Buhl believes foremost in leading from the front, and that is where he was usually found. Kasal remembers him in his Humvee
darting between companies under fire to discover for himself what was happening. At first Kasal wasn't sure whether his new commander's approach would work, but after studying him carefully, he decided Buhl's methods worked pretty damn well and the two men worked closely together to mold the battalion to fit its new mission.

“In the beginning we butted heads over a few things,” Kasal recalls. “But as I grew to know him more and watched his leadership in combat, I found him to be a very adept and aggressive warrior who believed in taking the fight to the enemy and cared deeply for the Marines under his charge. I grew to respect him very much. He was always up-front.”

By the end of the long, hot summer, Buhl could see that 3/1's Marines in al-Anbar province were slowly roasting in the desert heat under increasing numbers of sneak attacks and deadly ambushes. The battalion had lost 10 men, and there was no letup in sight. Some of the Marines were getting testy and more than a few simply wanted to kill somebody. At least one senior NCO was heard in Regimental Headquarters lamenting over his inability to kill someone or something. In Texas they call it buzzard's luck when you “can't kill nothin' and won't nothin' die!” Buhl kept a close watch on the temperament of his men to make sure they maintained their composure.

“You have to be careful with your anger because it can easily cloud your judgment,” he says. “For me anger actually enabled me to remain calm. We're trained to think clearly under stress, but to really go through it, to live it, is another world.”

Buhl's Marines knew about the first attempt by 2/1, 1/5, and the Regiment's 1st Recon Battalion to take the ancient city of Fallujah the preceding April. That the mission was aborted pissed them off. Although their predecessors were already gone, it was no
secret that the fight started April 4 during a handover ceremony with the Army's 82nd Airborne Division when an enemy mortar wounded several Marines. It ended with the testy Devil Dogs grudgingly pulling out while they were in the midst of some serious ass kicking. The Marines had the upper hand in Fallujah when they were suddenly—some say inexplicably—told to leave.

The order came from 1st Marine Regiment Combat Team's commander, Colonel John Toolan, who got it from Major General J. N. Mattis, and so on all the way to its source among the grand strategists in Baghdad. Toolan was ordered to hand over the parts of the city his Marines had just captured to so-called Iraqi National Guardsman and local police. The idea galled the Marines who swore the same guys had been shooting at them the day before.

The universally admired Toolan was still in command in al-Anbar province when 3/1 arrived. He would go home in September before seeing his mortal enemies get what he thought they deserved. In spring of 2006 Toolan was promoted to Brigadier General and reassigned from Director of the Marine Corps Command and Staff College for what he thought was a plum assignment as Assistant Division Commander of the 2d Marine Division. Later these orders would suddenly change, and he would find himself back in the bowels of the Pentagon. He didn't get a general's star being meek and mild. His Regimental Combat Team in June 2004 was more than 6,000 Marines strong and the absolute power in the region.

Toolan didn't say whether he agreed with the new methods that followed the so-called unilateral cease-fire that went into effect after his men pulled out or whether he preferred a more direct approach to settling up in Fallujah. Insurgents and Marines were still exchanging heavy fire every day over the berms and at the hard points where the Marines kept watch on the city. The
Iraqis took full advantage of the unilateral part of the cease-fire to blast away at the Marines whenever they thought they could get away with it. Those who saw Toolan work generally go with the notion he would have preferred to go back as soon as possible and finish it up before things got out of hand. Toolan is a big, powerful Irish rugby player who doesn't look like turning the other cheek is central to his personality. To slap Toolan would be like slapping John Wayne.

However, he made it clear to 3/1's Marines they had a new mission and new methods to employ. “Honestly, we didn't go in there with the intent of crushing the Iraqis,” he says. “We went in there with the concept that we were going to win them over with a patient, persistent presence. Our first objective was getting them jobs. We knew where the jobs were, so our first objective was to get to get the factories in and around Fallujah going.”

Toolan found himself in the limelight again in September when the press began speculating on a second run on Fallujah. It made perfect sense: Most of the action was in al-Anbar province, and Toolan was the sheriff. Now it looked like Toolan was approaching high noon again.

The Thundering Third's orders were clear and concise:

• Deny indirect fires on essential installations by proactively seeking insurgent mortar and rocket firing positions and personnel;

• Ensure freedom of movement along the main supply routes and lines of communication;

• Locate, capture, and kill insurgents using raids and cordon-and-search procedures;

• Train and integrate Iraqi forces;

• Provide a secure environment and facilitate government of officials and agencies.

Then there were the so-called “implied tasks,” including:

• Provide counterintimidation through aggressive patrolling, interdiction missions, and intelligence gathering;

• Initiate civil affairs projects;

• Develop actionable intelligence;

• Develop counters for improvised explosive device (IED) attacks;

• Provide force protection and firm base defense using both line company Marines and support personnel to man Marine base facilities.

Buhl's job description didn't include questioning the new mission; his job was to carry it out. Regardless of the undertaking Buhl intended to see that 3/1 did it better than the soldiers and Marines who had preceded them. It was a lofty goal indeed in a sand-covered haven for every kind of malcontent in Iraq.

The battalion's arrival fresh from Camp Pendleton and six months of intense training for the mission was useful. They initially intended to cool off the insurgency with a combination of power, understanding, and lots of money. That plan never worked because the Sunnis couldn't be bought off easily. Indistinct groups of insurgents with different agendas were emerging throughout the countryside to take advantage of the American changing of the guard underway across Iraq. Bloodied Marine and Army combat formations all over the country were changing places with fresh combat commands. 3/1 was just one of many units replacing tired formations in al-Anbar province. The insurgents knew it was happening and took whatever advantage they could. The enemies' emerging skill and persistence were a growing problem.

“There is an amorphous network of cells throughout Iraq, but there wasn't any one singular leader, in my estimation,” Toolan
says. “This was still a concerted effort for them [insurgents]. They said, ‘Hey, this is a good opportunity to make those guys pay' because there was such a huge change of guard. And so as soon as we got there we were intent on civil/military operations. They were intent on putting some stresses on our command and control just as we were taking over. So there were some renewed ambushes, IEDs, indirect fire attacks on Forward Operating Bases (FOBs). There was a big spike in these events during turnover.”

Between June and October Captain Jeffrey S. McCormack, the battalion's intelligence officer—the S-2 in Marine parlance—logged 207 indirect fire attacks, 95 IED ambushes, and six vehicle-borne IED and suicide attacks while discovering dozens of significant arms caches. Many of the senior Marines in the battalion said they'd never seen so much arms and ordnance even after the fall of Baghdad and Desert Storm. Indirect mortar and rocket attacks had jumped from 19 in June to 56 by October, and more than 100 1st Division Marines had been killed or wounded. The fight at al-Anbar province was turning vicious.

Not everybody was at risk. The locals had a fondness for the battalion civil affairs officer, nicknamed “Moneybags.” His job was spreading around reconstruction money. He and his team would mount their Humvee and visit the sheiks and village administrators to pay for redevelopment projects that were part of the Coalition's carrot-and-stick psychology.

Moneybags' security team included a black Marine turret gunner. McCormack remembers him well because the only time the civil affairs officer was ever attacked was the day the turret gunner was replaced by a white Marine. “They never got hit,” McCormack says. “They would go into some of the most godawful places and never be attacked, except once. He normally had an African-American as his turret gunner. Well, that Marine got sick
for whatever reason that day so they had a different kid up there, and they got IEDed. We were sure it was because they didn't have that African-American kid up there. The insurgents knew that if the kid in the second vehicle was black it was the civil affairs officer. They called him ‘Moneybags,' and they weren't going to IED Moneybags.”

Despite handing out money, patrolling vigorously, increasing the use of aerial reconnaissance, and using intense political negotiations, the situation for 3/1 in al-Anbar province never improved. The rot radiated outward from Fallujah to infect the satellite towns surrounding it.

Marine intelligence knew that only 20 percent of the insurgents were foreigners and 80 percent of the trigger pullers were Iraqis. They also knew the foreigners were facilitating the war by bringing in money and weapons. The money, often crisp new American $20 and $100 bills, was being funneled to the insurgency from both Arab and Western contributors. The Marines also recovered donated medical supplies and food that, McCormack discovered, had been purchased off the black market with American dollars and brought into al-Anbar province by couriers.