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April 11, 2008 01:21 pm
Letter from Iraq: On high alert for trip outside the wire
From Iraq: Adrenaline and anxiety help me concentrate on our surroundings. So does the clacking from the turret, as the gunner regularly rotates from side to side.
BY MIKE GALLAGHER
CNHI News Service
— It is dark. My vision is limited by the dimensions of the windows, which apply a yellow tint on objects on the other side of the ballistic glass.
“Load your weapons!”
Stay alert, I reminded myself, we’re leaving the wire.
Surrounded by heat and armed Marines, I’m seated in the passenger capsule of a Cougar MRAP (Mine-Resistant, Ambush-Protected) vehicle. Our medium-sized convoy is a mix of MRAPs, Explosive Ordnance Disposal (EOD) vehicles, 7-ton trucks and up-armored Humvees.
The MRAP was developed in South Africa to protect its occupants from land mines.
Its V-shaped hull deflects mine and improvised explosive device blasts to its sides, away from the passenger compartments.
In Iraq, a logistical convoy outside of the FOB (forward operating base) is a tactical movement, more of a combat patrol than an administrative convoy. These convoys are called “CLiPs” (Combat Logistical Patrols).
Our convoy commander, a first lieutenant, is confident; she has made this trip before. She seems competent – if we get in a jam, our lives will be impacted by the instant decisions made by her and the vehicle commanders.
We’re traveling from Camp Taqqadum to Camp Fallujah.
The distance is short but the trip will take hours as the convoy deliberately moves through the countryside, crosses the Euphrates River and maneuvers through the suburbs to Camp Fallujah.
Adrenaline and anxiety help me concentrate on our surroundings. So does the clacking from the turret, as the gunner regularly rotates from side to side. I try to see what he is looking at, but other than a few stray dogs, I see only bare landscape.
As we enter the outskirts of Fallujah many of the houses’ porch lights are on. I assume that they must have generators because electricity has been scarce, except apparently at the car dealership we pass, which is well lit.
“Unload your weapons!”
Mission complete.
Three nights later, I’m preparing to leave the wire again. This time I’ll fly from Camp Fallujah to Camp Liberty (Baghdad).
Boom! While sitting in a waiting area at the LZ (landing zone) with two other officers, I hear a loud explosion.
We don our tactical vests and helmets. One yells, “I wonder if there will be more.”
We pause a few seconds, then scramble out of the hut to find out what happened.
I stumble into a circle of smiling Marines smoking cigarettes.
“Sir, that was outgoing. Arty (the artillery unit) let us know they would be firing tonight.”
Well, howdy, I thought as my stomach untwisted.
We board the MV-22 Osprey, the Corps’ newest aircraft that can take off and land like a helicopter but flies like an airplane. The thing can pull some Gs, too. We arrive in Baghdad in minutes.
Wearing my tactical vest, weapon, helmet and “molly” pack, I drag my sea bag and day pack off the flight line. It’s time to hit the rack. It is dark.
Marine Corps Col. Mike Gallagher is serving in Iraq and writing an occasional column for The Tribune-Democrat. A native of southern California, Gallagher resided in Johnstown and Windber from 1993 until 2005 while employed by the National Drug Intelligence Center.
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