My Iraq Experience

A long time ago, in my very first post, I said that I would discuss my experiences in Iraq. Well, I decided that today is a good day to start doing so. The following is an excerpt from my experiences there.

The day that sticks out in my mind the most is a day that I will never forget. I will remember this day and think of it every single day for the rest of my life. For a period of time my unit was assigned to guard one of the largest ammunition holding areas in the country. It was located west of Taji Airfield. In fact it was right across the road from it. Taji Airfield and Taji West AHA is separated by a major road that ran south to Baghdad and north to Balad. In fact if you kept going north, you could get all the way to Tikrit. There was also an intersection just north of us that would get you on a road to Samarra, so we were in quite an area. Anyway, my shift had just gotten off the guard towers after an 8 hour shift. It was our turn in the rotation to stay on at Taji West and act as the QRF (quick reaction force). We were on call to respond to any attacks or other situations. We would also be utilized for patrols, checkpoints, humanitarian missions to the local community, and perimeter improvement. We were relieved from our towers before dawn and allowed to rest for a few hours in the building we used as our base of operations. It was about 7 a.m. and I had not been asleep for more than an hour when I heard "blackjack" which was our code word to react. I remember everything so clearly. I was on complete auto pilot. I was not even awake yet and I had my gear on within seconds of the call. I remember grabbing my M249 SAW, which is a fully automatic machine gun. My ammunition drum broke and so I grabbed a new one and jumped into one of our armored humvees. At this point I had no idea what was going on. We raced north on our perimeter road and left the wire out by the northeast corner by tower #2. The LT's humvee had broken down, of course at the worst possible time which was unusual because it was a very reliable vehicle. LT Swedenberg was our battery executive officer. He was once a SSG(E-6) and ranger before he became an artillery officer, so he would very often take the lead while we were in Iraq. The best officers are the ones who used to be enlisted NCO's. Anyway, I am rambling again so I will get to the point. At this point I still did not realize what was about to happen. We jumped on the highway, drove north maybe 500 meters and turned west onto a road that led to some farmhouses. We approach a vehicle that was surrounded by screaming Iraqis all pointed at it and urging us to hurry up to it. I am still locked and loaded, weapon ready and expected maybe we were looking at some terrorist or Saddam loyalist who was causing trouble and the locals caught him. I am still thinking we were out there to detain someone. Then the back door opens on a vehicle and there is an Iraqi man, clothes covered in blood, holding what looked like a small girl. Then I realized it was a young woman around 18 or so we had seen working in the fields outside our perimeter many times while in the guard towers. Instantly we had a stretcher out. There was no medic with us, but myself and a few other soldiers were combat lifesavers. We loaded her onto the stretcher and into the back of the humvee. Two Iraqi men who were obviously family also rode in the back. It was a four seat, armored humvee with a .50 cal machine gun in the turret so it was a tight fit. The LT jumped in and took my seat so I was in the middle right under the gunner and right next to this young Iraqi. Both arms were gone. One had an exposed, splintered bone that would scratch me as she writhed in pain. One leg was gone, and the other was hanging on by the calf muscle. Where her right eye should have been was a massive wound, and there was another extensive wound on the left side of her lower jaw. There was surprisingly little blood. When limbs are amputated, blood vessels recoil and constrict to prevent too much blood loss. I immediately put my pressure bandage over the wound on her right eye. Another soldier did the same on her jaw. We did the best we could with her arms and legs and tried to keep her from moving too much. We attempted several times to start an IV, but there was no where we could start one. By this time we were rocking and bouncing in the vehicle as we sped toward Taji Airfields main gate. The LT was trying to get a Medevac chopper called. We tried to start an IV in her neck, but we could not risk it because of the unstable motion of our vehicle. We arrived at Taji Airfield's gate after what seemed like forever, but was in reality only maybe 15 minutes. We continued to treat her injuries as best we could I remember she had looked up at me. Her one eye just seemed to stare into my mind. She calmed down when we made eye contact for some reason. Our battalion medics arrived shortly after and took over. I watched as they worked very quickly and professionally applying more bandages and they gave her morphine to take away the pain when it became clear that the helicopter would not arrive in time. I was still digesting all that had just occurred. I was still shocked. The medics were as well when she finally died, as for many of them this was the first patient they ever lost. Later we learned what happened up to the time we were called out that morning. Tower #2 reported an explosion north of the perimeter somewhere on one of the farms that came right up to our perimeter fence. They remember seeing a cow running and they joked that maybe we would have steak later. Then several Iraqis approached the wire screaming for help. Apparently the young Iraqi girl was working in the fields and kneeled down to tether a cow to the ground. When she hammered down the stake, she must have hit some unexploded ordinance buried in the ground. It could have been a mine left over from as far back as the Iran-Iraq War. It could have been some other explosive ordinance that landed over there when one of the bunkers in the AHA exploded some time before, we will never know. Days later everyone involved in the incident was called together to meet with the battalion and 4ID chaplains. We all discussed the event and it really helped everyone cope with what had happened. I remember thinking how evil Saddam had to be putting an ammunition holding area in the middle of a farming community knowing the danger he put his people in by doing so. For weeks afterward the focus of our mission in the area was helping farmers rid their fields of hazardous unexploded ordinance to prevent something like this from happening again. Who knows how many lives we saved by helping the locals identify and mark potential dangers and then help them clear their fields. Later we learned she was buried in a coffin that the family kept around just in case. That tells you how bad life under Saddam was when it becomes practical to keep a coffin in the house because you never know when you'll need it. I would still have nightmares for a while after this, but I must say I am surprised how quickly I was able to cope with this and deal with the memories. I still think about that day often. It was a turning point of sorts. I was very unhappy with being in Iraq. I had a wife and 2 kids. The youngest was born exactly 1 week before we deployed. I was “stop-lossed” and my time in the Army was extended. After this incident took place, however, I began to see the bigger picture. I realized what we were doing there was far more important than anything I have ever been a part of. I was never more proud to be a soldier.