The air was hot and heavy. Not wet, but oppressive nonetheless. Dust lay thick over the ground as my small column of Soldiers moved semi-silently through the night. Occasionally the radios crackled to life, bringing small sounds other than heavy breathing to the desert:
"43 this is 46, radio check." "46 this is 43, lima charlie."
Then silence. And footsteps. And stumbling.
It was early morning, and my platoon's mission was to set up blocking positions around the town the rest of the company was going to search. Even though it was only 0430, our day started much earlier, at around 0100. We awoke well before the choppers arrived, prepping ourselves for the day's mission. Final packing for the mission, checking equipment, putting on said equipment, and waiting. In the Army, there is always waiting. For everything. Earlier in the night, I remember lying awake, looking up at the stars, noting the clarity of the evening. By the time we got on the helicopters, that changed.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Riding on helicopters gives little time for anything other than thinking. It is much too loud to talk, and before going into a potentially dangerous situation, talking is not desired by most Soldiers anyway. I felt the bird slow, and begin to descend. We felt the first touchdown of the wheels, followed quickly by the other wheels slamming hard and fast onto the ground. Looking outside, all I could see was dust, which explained why the touchdown was so hard. All of the Soldiers on my helicopter quickly ran out the back door and quickly established local security in the dust and dark. After a few moments more, we all began to get hammered by the rocks and dust kicked up by the helicopter. And then it was gone and the night was quiet again.
It took a couple of moments for both sections on the chopper to get organized and oriented to begin movement. My platoon set down on two different helicopters, and had to move to various blocking positions that over-watched the approaches to the town. We had to move quickly to get in place before the other platoon landed and began the search immediately following dawn. All elements were in place as smoothly as could be hoped. Day came quickly, and my element made the final establishment of our position in the gray moments before full light. And then, waiting.
After full dawn, we made small adjustments to improve our location and better secure the area. Only the conversations between us and the radio chatter broke the silence of the morning. The other platoon began their movement, stopping to search most of the compounds in the village and the likely cache locations. The morning passed slowly, with the heat beginning to press greatly on those of us unfortunate enough to be in full sunlight. Then, at a seemingly quiet time, the air burst with the sound of gunfire.
But that was it. A single burst of perhaps six shots fired at me and my Soldiers. I didn't even see or hear the bullets impact nearby. We could not find the shooter, and he did not want to be found. After the helicopters swarmed like dangerous dragonflies over the area in a vain attempt to find the shooter, the clearance went on like before.
We sat and watched and waited and baked in the sun until we noticed that the sun began to darken and the horizon grew mountains where there were none before. The air stilled, giving meaning to the proverbial calm before the storm. Then the wind picked up, and the dust began to gather and blow, and we soon lost sight of each other. The dust storm, when it came, slowed all movement from both our forces and those of the enemy. We heard or saw no movement during the duration of the tempest. The wind blew and blew, and the sand and small pebbles beat against us as we tried to get under the best cover possible. Eight hours the storm lasted, with only a few breaks in the dust in which to see farther than one hundred feet. The sun disappeared, and in our blocking positions, for me and my Soldiers, there was only the storm. We heard, with less than one hundred percent of our interest, 1st Platoon find and then destroy a cache of weapons and drugs and fertilizer. For hours, only the radio communications, and the single explosion from the cache BIP, broke the monotony of dust and wind. But then the storm ended.
We were dust covered and tired, but otherwise unharmed. And we continued watching and waiting. At one point, the ANA co-located with me fired a warning shot at a motorcycle to force them to stop. We were all on edge, primarily due to the high level of radio chatter we could hear from the enemy. They kept talking, and organizing, and maneuvering, but we could not see anything in the area. We heard them begin the fire command of "Allah akbar," but heard no firing. We were confused, and somewhat disappointed. We are all adrenaline junkies to some degree, and we had a long, relatively unfruitful day, and we were in strong fighting positions where we could easily repel the enemy. But nothing happened near us. The fighting took place several kilometers away where the ANA and ANP were destroying poppy fields.
After the search of the town was complete, my platoon began to collapse onto my position for the next step in the operation. With only a few minor land navigation errors, they found us. From there, my platoon was ordered to cross the wadi and search a historic cache location. At this point, we were all exhausted, and dark was close to arrival. We moved over, searched the area, found nothing in either of the compounds we searched or in the karez lines (ancient irrigation lines). I reported nothing significant to my CO and he ordered the final phase of the operation: ground movement in the dark to return to the COP.
The other platoon moved past us and began the three mile walk back to base. We chose our route carefully because of the high IED threat on the roads in the area. It was a long walk in the dark, especially after a long day, so it was no surprise when one of my Soldiers hurt himself. We were most of the way back to base, and I had since moved all the way to the back of the formation and back to the front when one of the Soldiers in front of me fell in one of the fields. He fell hard, and could not get up. My medic came forward and treated him briefly. We redistributed his weapon and assault pack and continued forward. I took his M240 machine gun, and kept moving like I learned in Ranger School. One more step, just keep walking, it's almost over, not much farther, they need you, keep going, don't stop, just a few more steps... A litany of encouragement always plays through my head, especially when I am tired, but I knew that there were men much worse off than me, and I am the patoon leader, and must always set the example, so it was not so difficult to keep going.
We were almost back when a few shots rang out in the dark. I think they were fired at us, but I could not tell, and none of my Soldiers were hurt, so we kept walking after reporting the "audible" to higher. Random shots in the dark are not a worthwhile reason to stop. We stopped briefly to say goodbye to the ANA who had worked with us throughout the day, and kept trudging the last two hundred meters back to base. And then the long day was over.
The end result: one cache found, one confirmed instance of small arms fire, another probable attack, and a really long day for everyone involved.
That was my second combat air assault, but my first and only experience as a platoon leader.
"43 this is 46, radio check." "46 this is 43, lima charlie."
Then silence. And footsteps. And stumbling.
It was early morning, and my platoon's mission was to set up blocking positions around the town the rest of the company was going to search. Even though it was only 0430, our day started much earlier, at around 0100. We awoke well before the choppers arrived, prepping ourselves for the day's mission. Final packing for the mission, checking equipment, putting on said equipment, and waiting. In the Army, there is always waiting. For everything. Earlier in the night, I remember lying awake, looking up at the stars, noting the clarity of the evening. By the time we got on the helicopters, that changed.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Riding on helicopters gives little time for anything other than thinking. It is much too loud to talk, and before going into a potentially dangerous situation, talking is not desired by most Soldiers anyway. I felt the bird slow, and begin to descend. We felt the first touchdown of the wheels, followed quickly by the other wheels slamming hard and fast onto the ground. Looking outside, all I could see was dust, which explained why the touchdown was so hard. All of the Soldiers on my helicopter quickly ran out the back door and quickly established local security in the dust and dark. After a few moments more, we all began to get hammered by the rocks and dust kicked up by the helicopter. And then it was gone and the night was quiet again.
It took a couple of moments for both sections on the chopper to get organized and oriented to begin movement. My platoon set down on two different helicopters, and had to move to various blocking positions that over-watched the approaches to the town. We had to move quickly to get in place before the other platoon landed and began the search immediately following dawn. All elements were in place as smoothly as could be hoped. Day came quickly, and my element made the final establishment of our position in the gray moments before full light. And then, waiting.
 |
| Waiting in the early morning. |
But that was it. A single burst of perhaps six shots fired at me and my Soldiers. I didn't even see or hear the bullets impact nearby. We could not find the shooter, and he did not want to be found. After the helicopters swarmed like dangerous dragonflies over the area in a vain attempt to find the shooter, the clearance went on like before.
 |
| Near the height of the sandstorm. |
 |
| My interpreter after the worst of the storm. |
After the search of the town was complete, my platoon began to collapse onto my position for the next step in the operation. With only a few minor land navigation errors, they found us. From there, my platoon was ordered to cross the wadi and search a historic cache location. At this point, we were all exhausted, and dark was close to arrival. We moved over, searched the area, found nothing in either of the compounds we searched or in the karez lines (ancient irrigation lines). I reported nothing significant to my CO and he ordered the final phase of the operation: ground movement in the dark to return to the COP.
The other platoon moved past us and began the three mile walk back to base. We chose our route carefully because of the high IED threat on the roads in the area. It was a long walk in the dark, especially after a long day, so it was no surprise when one of my Soldiers hurt himself. We were most of the way back to base, and I had since moved all the way to the back of the formation and back to the front when one of the Soldiers in front of me fell in one of the fields. He fell hard, and could not get up. My medic came forward and treated him briefly. We redistributed his weapon and assault pack and continued forward. I took his M240 machine gun, and kept moving like I learned in Ranger School. One more step, just keep walking, it's almost over, not much farther, they need you, keep going, don't stop, just a few more steps... A litany of encouragement always plays through my head, especially when I am tired, but I knew that there were men much worse off than me, and I am the patoon leader, and must always set the example, so it was not so difficult to keep going.
We were almost back when a few shots rang out in the dark. I think they were fired at us, but I could not tell, and none of my Soldiers were hurt, so we kept walking after reporting the "audible" to higher. Random shots in the dark are not a worthwhile reason to stop. We stopped briefly to say goodbye to the ANA who had worked with us throughout the day, and kept trudging the last two hundred meters back to base. And then the long day was over.
The end result: one cache found, one confirmed instance of small arms fire, another probable attack, and a really long day for everyone involved.
That was my second combat air assault, but my first and only experience as a platoon leader.
Wow. Thank you for sharing Michael. It is really interesting to hear what it's really like out there on a mission! You kept your men safe and kept going, job well done.
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