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Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Bombs can make tank fly
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Lutiyfiyah, Iraq — The roadside bomb was so powerful it rocked the 70-ton tank.
A mushroom cloud of smoke and sand enveloped the crew of Georgia National Guard soldiers inside.
Louie Favorite/AJC
An M-1A1 Abrams tank on a site in Lutiyfiyah that was at one time headquarters for the Medina Republican Guard.
No one was injured in the blast south of Baghdad Wednesday afternoon. And the tank suffered nothing more than some chipped paint.
But the attack underscored how insurgents are targeting tanks with roadside bombs. They haven’t killed any Georgians riding in them, but their massive bombs have disabled some of the heavily armored hulks.
On Sept. 11, a roadside bomb badly damaged one of the M-1A1 Abrams tanks of the 48th Brigade Combat Team. The explosion blew the tank at least four feet into the air and flung a 900-pound piece of its metal skirt 85 meters away. No one was seriously injured.
“I was able to get a good four-syllable curse word out before we hit the ground,” said the tank’s gunner, Sgt. Andrew Field, 33, a former Marine from Marietta.
Louie Favorite/AJC
Tanks shoot rounds at tall structures to prevent insurgents from using them to trigger IEDs.
Field and other soldiers with Georgia’s 1st Battalion, 108th Armor Regiment patrol areas south of Baghdad in Abrams tanks. They credit the vehicles with saving their lives and deterring attacks. Some soldiers lovingly call their tanks “pigs.” One is nicknamed “Bada Bing!” Another one goes by “Allah’s Little Helper.”
Field’s tank was about 800 meters behind the one that got hit Wednesday. His driver, Spc. Jason Fritzler, 34, of Oklahoma, reacted quickly, identifying the bomb as an improvised explosive device.
“IED!” Fritzler announced over the tank’s radio system. “It hit the commander’s tank on the left side!”
Field turned his tank’s main gun to the right, searching for the triggerman. He suspected the bomb was detonated by someone hiding off the side of the road.
“He has to be here somewhere,” Field said. “He couldn’t be too far off the highway. There is no way.”
A man in an orange Mercedes truck pulled onto the shoulder beside their convoy before the explosion. So 2nd Lt. John Pinion, 23, of LaFayette, hopped out of his hatch and searched the vehicle. He found only sand in the back. The driver was briefly detained and then released.
Louie Favorite/AJC
Lt. Col. John King, who is Doraville’s police chief, helps load a HEAT (High Explosive Anti Tank) round into his tank.
Up the road, the tank that was hit put out suppressive fire with its M240 coaxial machine gun. Then the tank fired its main gun at something suspicious behind a sand berm. But no one was there.
Lt. Col. John King, the battalion commander, hopped out of the tank with his men and scrambled through some muddy canals, searching for the triggerman.
King, 42, Doraville’s police chief, suspected the bomb was a single artillery shell buried on the side of the road. He and his men searched five houses and found nothing. But they discovered something suspicious at least 500 meters from the road — a pair of black plastic sandals and some footprints in the sand.
The prints led away from the blast crater.
Shared language, bond of brothers
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Forward Operating Base Yusufiyah, Iraq — At nightfall, the Iraqi army officers shed their uniforms, slip into athletic sweat suits and sandals and crowd into a small office in what once was a cavernous potato factory.
As they smoke cigarettes and drink hot tea in their makeshift base, they watch “The Simpsons” on TV and tease each other, laughing uproariously.
Among their group is an American visitor, Maj. Ray Bossert of the Georgia Army National Guard. He nods knowingly and laughs along with them as they joke in Arabic. Bossert has a tremendous advantage in his job as their U.S. military adviser: He grew up in Lebanon and speaks Arabic.
“You are on the inside” as an Arabic speaker, said Bossert, 38, a Douglasville resident and veteran of Panama, Bosnia, Operation Desert Storm and the 2003 invasion of Iraq. “The bond is a lot closer.”
Louie Favorite/AJC
Maj. Ray Bossert (right) of Douglasville jokes with Lt. Col. Kadhim, commander of the Iraqi battalion at Yusufiyah.
Bossert is one of hundreds of American soldiers building and training the Iraqi army, including dozens from Georgia’s 48th Brigade Combat Team. Military officials are reluctant to disclose exact numbers for security reasons, but that training is seen by the Bush administration as a major step toward stabilizing the war-torn country and allowing the U.S. military to pull out.
In Yusufiyah, Bossert’s 17-man team is responsible for the 4th Battalion of the 4th Brigade of Iraqi’s 6th Infantry Division, a unit with 550 soldiers.
U.S. soldiers occupy one side of the potato factory and the Iraqis occupy the other. But they mingle throughout the day and share guard duty.
Solid relationships
Bossert has spent a great deal of time over the last three years training Iraqi soldiers and police. In 2003 and 2004, he worked with Iraqi security forces in the insurgent hotbeds of Ramadi and Fallujah while attached to the 82nd Airborne Division.
Those experiences have enabled Bossert to cultivate relationships with the Iraqis away from the battlefield. It is through informal gatherings like the one with the Iraqi officers where he says he can get business done. Between tall tales and jokes, they plan missions to hunt insurgents.
“We work together like brothers, like family,” said the Iraqi battalion commander, Lt. Col. Kadhim, who asked that his full name not be used for fear of insurgent retaliation.
Bossert has gained such respect from the Iraqis that fellow U.S. soldiers have nicknamed him Master Yoda, the “Star Wars” movie character who has unusual powers. They gave him that name after witnessing him persuade obstinate Iraqis to agree to missions by simply waving his hand, almost as if he is using some unseen brainwashing power.
“I like doing stuff that has an impact,” said Bossert, a compact man with green eyes and a shaved head. “The little steps we take make you feel good at the end of the day.”
Setting an example
Bossert’s men have followed his example in bonding with their Iraqi counterparts. Many have become friends by spending hours together in guard towers or on patrol outside their base. They greet each other with warm handshakes and brotherly hugs. The Iraqis cook them meals of rice, boiled chicken and fried fish.
Occasionally, they play soccer on a concrete surface beside piles burning garbage. The Iraqis mark the goal posts with their sandals, and some play barefoot. There seems to be no out-of-bounds. The play is somewhat rough. The Iraqis never lose.
The men look out for each other, too. Last week, U.S. medics treated three Iraqi soldiers wounded by a roadside bomb. Before that incident, Iraqi soldiers evacuated three of Bossert’s men from the field after they were injured in a similar bombing.
“All of the Iraqi people will remember what the American people did for Iraq because they brought down Saddam Hussein,” said Kadhim, 48, who said he was jailed and tortured by Hussein’s regime for being a Shiite.
Bossert meets with Kadhim almost daily. One night last week, the major showed up at Kadhim’s spare office to talk. The Iraqi rose from his desk and asked in Arabic if he wanted tea. Bossert said yes in Arabic.
A young Iraqi soldier appeared at the door, holding a silver tray with Styrofoam cups full of dark tea. He stomped his right foot on the floor as a salute to Kadhim.
As the two sipped the hot tea, Kadhim teased Bossert about his bald head. Then, the conversation turned to Bossert’s plans to leave soon. Bossert will be taking on a new mission in the southern Iraqi city of Basra as the 48th Brigade Combat Team’s liaison to British forces. The brigade is changing missions and spreading out across Iraq.
‘We will miss them’
Kadhim joked that he will get Bossert an Iraqi wife to keep him in Yusufiyah, a town of about 20,000 Sunnis and Shiites where a violent insurgency persists.
“We will miss them,” Kadhim said of Bossert and his men. And then he shyly admitted, “I am an emotional guy.”
Kadhim said Bossert has helped him immensely, teaching him to be patient and assess battle situations before acting.
“That’s interesting because I thought I learned patience from him,” Bossert replied.
Kadhim complained to Bossert how U.S. soldiers recently didn’t recognize him at the front gate to the base. He said they kept him waiting nearly an hour until they could confirm his identity. Bossert promised it would not happen again.
Later that same evening, Kadhim stopped by Bossert’s office. Kadhim was in uniform but was wearing some blue Fila flip-flops. Bossert was ready for bed, wearing a T-shirt and underwear. He sipped from a green bottle of non-alcoholic St. Pauli Girl beer. One of Bossert’s men quickly fetched Kadhim a cola.
They sat across from each other near a wooden wall dotted with gaping shrapnel holes from an insurgent’s mortar round.
Kadhim had some news for Bossert. A one-star Iraqi general was coming for a visit the next day. He wanted to check security at some Iraqi polling places for the Oct. 15 vote on the national constitution.
As the two worked out their plans, Kadhim picked up a Halloween toy Bossert’s wife sent him. Kadhim pushed a button on the spring-loaded toy and a Count Dracula head popped up, announcing, “You can Count on me.” Kadhim chuckled. He teased Bossert for working too hard and not coming over to the Iraqi side for meals as often as he should.
The two chatted like that for many moments, switching back and forth between English and Arabic and laughing as the night wore on.
