My Men are My Heroes (21 page)

Despite the terrible ferocity of the ensuing fight it was a lopsided contest from the start, one the insurgents should never have fought. Genuine soldiers would have pulled out to fight another day, something amateur fanatics armed with medieval logic refused to do. The jihadists were depending on an irrational formula that combined faith and suicidal determination with bad tactics. They started the fight with inferior numbers, inferior weapons, primitive communications, and almost no logistics.

The Marines showed up with enough firepower to turn Fallujah into a rubble pile populated with dead insurgents, but that was not their official intent. To do so would have defeated the Marines' mission to win the hearts and minds of the Sunni population. Division and Regiment didn't want to destroy the city; neither did its commanders or the provisional government. To do so would be political suicide. Unless the Sunni majority in the alAnbar province was pacified, there would be no lasting peace. The young Marines, on the other hand, just wanted payback. If that meant killing every jihadist in Fallujah, that would have been okay with them.

As incongruent as the multiple points of view seemed, everyone agreed it was time to assert the Coalition's influence. If the Coalition didn't prevail, there would never be a stable government of any kind in Iraq.

Stable governments were far from Kasal's mind as 3/1 rumbled into the northern edge of Fallujah in the false light of dawn on D+3. He was busy monitoring the radios and keeping track of his widely dispersed sections. At the same time he kept an ear
tuned to the Weapons Co. frequency to follow what was going on in his company, and he kept an eye on what was happening around Fallujah.

The Coalition had promised free passage to anyone wishing to leave and thousands of people took them up on it. The Iraqi government told the mulish Sunni leadership anyone still in Fallujah after the battle started would be detained or killed. Kasal thought the announcement would make the battle easier for his Marines. On the other hand his CAAT teams had to make sure nobody slipped away from the refugees and attacked 3/1's lines of communication.

“The Iraqis were leaving Fallujah. People were driving out, walking out with their families. I saw kids and old people pushing carts. It was really sad. Many of those people just wanted to live peacefully but they couldn't,” Kasal says.

“Once they cleared checkpoints they could leave. The Iraqi police were checking out IDs. They could tell when something was wrong. They knew accents, what people were wearing, their car—if it was wrong—they could do that. We couldn't.

“I don't really know how many people actually left but it was thousands. Probably a lot of insurgents left with them. They were leaving in buses. They knew what was coming by then. The whole thing was in the press and the media were reporting all the bad things happening in al-Anbar province. Everyone was looking for Abu Musab al Zarqawi.

“We were taking Fallujah back from the insurgents. They were Saddam's thugs and murderers. It was a good thing.”

 

 

One of the first objectives of the invasion was to capture a huge train station just north of the city and convert it into a base of operations for the duration of the attack.

Leading the assault on the evening of November 8 was Lieutenant Zachary Iscol, a Cornell graduate commissioned through the Platoon Leader's Course at Quantico during the summers of his junior and senior years. Iscol joined from Long Island, New York. He is now a captain deciding if he wants to stay in the Corps.

In November 2004 Iscol was a first lieutenant leading 25 Marines from 3/1's ad hoc Combined Action Platoon (CAP) India, a platoon of former Weapons Co. mortarmen assigned to train and advise 50 untried Iraqi National Guard (ING) soldiers.

The mortarmen had been pulled from Weapons Co. for CAP duties because the ROE for the security mission in al-Anbar province prohibited the Marines from using mortar fire except in
unusual circumstances—such as for counterbattery fire and for shooting their way out of a jam should they get overrun. Given that it was unlikely they'd be firing mortars during the attack, they were deemed available to advise the Iraqi detachment. That was okay, Buhl says—Marines are trained to improvise, overcome, and adapt.

CAPs, in which U.S. Marines train, advise, and fight side by side with soldiers of the country they're occupying, aren't new. The Marine Corps has been creating CAPs in many guises since Marines fought in the Banana Wars and subdued Haiti, the Dominican Republic, and Nicaragua in the early ‘20s. Marines in CAPs are always in a tenuous position. They have to rely on making themselves understood to their trainees, often across a wide cultural and linguistic gulf. They also must rely on the loyalty and readiness of those trainees in combat.

In Vietnam Marine CAPs were split into teams of half a dozen men who lived alone and unsupported in isolated villages. They survived on goodwill, good luck, and superb instincts.

The situation in Iraq was somewhat different. The Marines trained and advised the Iraqis who were dependent on the Marines for their welfare, training, and firepower. In turn the Iraqis fought for the new provisional government until the political situation stabilized. It was an untested proposition, Iscol says.

Eighteen months before Fallujah Iscol was a relatively boot second lieutenant and the brand-new executive officer (XO) of Weapons Co. Kasal was a first sergeant with 20 years of infantry experience. About all that Iscol knew about his first sergeant was that he was indeed a take-charge Marine who had come over from Kilo.

Soon after Iscol arrived he encountered Kasal debriefing Marines after an exercise. Iscol, in the best tradition of second
lieutenants, counseled his first sergeant about stepping outside his authority. In Iscol's Marine Corps first sergeants don't debrief line Marines. That was a platoon leader's responsibility

“Kasal sat down with me and explained he did it for tactical proficiency so he would know how the Marines had done,” says Iscol. “He didn't get mad. He wasn't disrespectful—at least not to my face. I probably seemed a little immature then.

“I had another incident with a staff NCO, a very proficient Marine who, after our disagreement, refused to talk to me. First Sergeant Kasal, after a disagreement, would never take offense. His concern was for doing the best job possible. He would explain what would happen if you do it this way and what would happen if you do it that way—he would take the objective approach.”

Iscol gained even more respect for Kasal when he saw his first sergeant step in and accept blame for something he could have easily palmed off on the green XO. Buhl wanted a nonregulation guidon, or small flag, in a Kilo Co. picture, and Kasal declined to break it out on Iscol's authority. Buhl took a strip off Iscol's ass as a result.

“I got my ass chewing from the battalion commander for not having the guidon out,” Iscol says. “Later I just mentioned it to Kasal. He called the battalion sergeant major right up and told him he had refused to take the guidon out. He is a phenomenal Marine.”

Buhl says that was one of the last times he really butted heads with Kasal. Kasal argued it wasn't regulation; a company only rated one guidon. Buhl saw his intransigence as almost tantamount to insubordination so Kasal lost that one.

All of that was buried in the past on the night of November 8, 2004. Like thousands of junior Marine officers before him, Iscol had learned from professionals like Kasal how to share responsibility and accept guidance from others during his training experience at Camp Pendleton.

A critical test in Iscol's career development came when he brought the Iraqis to the jump-off point. Nominally in charge of Company I of the ING was an Iraqi major named Ouda, a former Republican Guard officer. Major Ouda was ordered to lead his unit into the train station using as much stealth and surprise as possible, slay the defenders, then secure the structure until the actual invasion kicked off at 6 a.m. on the 9th. Even with tank support it was a tough assignment for anyone.

“It was the first major objective taken down in Fallujah,” Iscol recalls. “It looked enormous. There was a huge platform and warehouses, and we had two platoons of eight to 10 Marines and 20 Iraqis to take it and cover about a kilometer of ground. We had two platoons of tanks with us and the AAVs that transported us behind us.”

The Marine Corps tanks supporting Iscol were the same Marines who had taken Buhl, Malay, and Shupp to Fallujah six weeks before. Still under the command of Captain Bodisch they provided security to the Marines and their ING counterparts assaulting the train station.

At 5 p.m. the combined company moved into position, traveling south from the attack position to the designated release point. There the company would split into two rifle platoons, each supported by a Marine tank platoon.

“We had attached to Lima,” Iscol says. “They provided overwatch. The tanks and AAVs with .50-cal and MK-19s [ grenade launchers] stayed outside the train station. We wanted to use the MK-19s to set off any IEDs. We dismounted 500 meters north of the train station and moved up using tactical movements.”

After establishing a support-by-fire position overlooking Iscol's riflemen, the tankers fired 34 rounds from their 120mm main gun, destroying a number of fortified enemy positions,
obstacles, and VBIEDs along key avenues of approach. Iscol could not have been more pleased.

“We were not authorized to fire any preplanned fires,” Iscol recalls. “We had to wait until we received fire. Almost immediately we took some fire from the train station. We put down smoke to screen Lima. We called on our FiST [Fire Support Team]; we had FAC [Forward Air Controller] Marines wearing night vision. There was none for the Iraqis. They were dependent on us for fire support.

“This was a big test for our Iraqis. Before the offensive operation in the city, we spent a lot of operational and training time with the Iraqis emphasizing every man is a rifleman, fire and movement, and platoon operator.

“The company commander, Major Ouda, was a great man. The Iraqis were some of the bravest guys you will ever meet. They go home every night to their families. They are getting murdered; their families are getting murdered and kidnapped. The ones that were reliable were the finest soldiers we could hope for.”

As soon as the operation began Lima Co.'s FiST began laying down 155mm artillery fire and 81mm mortars on the objective. When they were sure the rounds were hitting their targets, the combined infantry assault began in almost total darkness.

A wall of heavy metal laid down by the gunners kept the insurgents from reinforcing the train station. The insurgents knew the tanks and Bradleys had main guns and coaxial machine guns guided by night vision and thermal imaging equipment that could obliterate them, so for the most part they sat tight and tried to figure out what was going on, Iscol says.

“We had emphasized fire discipline and movement,” Iscol says of the training exercises. “The Iraqis listened okay so they understood what we were doing. A lot of them had been soldiers
and knew the fundamentals. They were very good with the AKs. They moved quietly, moving in the dark very well. I had night vision and I was impressed how well they moved in almost complete darkness.”

Once the Iraqis had cleared the buildings an Explosive Ordinance Demolition (EOD) squad was called for. With two dog teams they began searching and clearing the train station of potential booby traps. Two bombs were discovered and disarmed. As soon as the buildings were cleared the Iraqis set up their command post and waited for orders.

While the EOD team was disabling the bombs, Lima left its overwatch positions on the northeast side of the train station. They started to clear the way for the breach teams who were to break through obstructions the insurgents had built. Iscol thought the entire operation went off like clockwork.

“We could see okay with our night vision. Captain McCormack, the S-2, had really briefed us well. We knew there weren't too many insurgents in the train station. They knew it was isolated. IEDs were the biggest threat,” Iscol recalls.

Several hours before dawn, the railroad station belonged to the combined Iraqi-Marine assault company. That meant 3/1 had a good jump-off point for their attack.