Untitled
Copyright© 2026 by Wojtek
Chapter 1
Today was a day that I’d never forget. As I lay there in that alley, staring at the sky, one thing was certain. I was well and truly fucked, there was no coming back from this.
The dust and debris would clear every so often and I could see clear blue sky. My whole body felt on fire, and pain seemed to be radiating from everywhere. Trying to move didn’t work. Then there was the fact that every time I tried to say something, all I could do was cough up my own blood. It really tasted metallic like everyone said.
As my vision cleared a bit, I reflected on how I got to be lying broken and bloody in a Najaf, Iraqi alleyway.
First off, my name is Benedict Witulski. I am currently a Staff Sergeant in the Marine Corps. Before coming to visit the shithole of Iraq, I was part of the 3rd Reconnaissance Battalion station at Camp Schwab, Okinawa. All the males in my family served in the military; it is a family tradition. I was part of three outliers in the history of my family. The three of us were the only Witulski men not to serve in the army.
My ancestors participated in many well-known battles throughout history. Kosma Witulski rode with the Winged Hussars under Jan Sobieski, King of Poland, to break the Siege of Vienna in 1683. Bronislaw Witulski was the first member of the family that immigrated to America. He joined Casimir Pulaski in fighting for the Continental Army during the Revolutionary War.
In more recent times, my Grandfather Dominik Witulski was an Army Ranger who served during World War II, Korea, and Vietnam.
Thereafter my father, Sergeant Major Leonard Witulski, was a member of the 75th Ranger Regiment and fought in Grenada, Panama, and Desert Storm.
I was one of the oddities in the family. Tymon Witulski was the first of the oddities. He served in the Navy aboard the USS Constitution during the War of 1812. Albin Witulski was the second; he served in the Marine Corps during the Philippine–American War.
I’ll never forget the day that I told my father that I was enlisting in the Marine Corps. There was a slight bit of disappointment on his face. My mother was just glad I joined the military as her parents had escaped Communist Poland in the early fifties. Her sincere hope was that I would have the chance to kill communists.
I spent my Marine Corps career striving to do my best; to live up to the standard that the Witulski name stood for. I couldn’t be seen as a lesser member of the family. I mean when one brother is a Green Beret and the other is a member of the 75th Ranger Regiment, you have to go big or die trying. That’s what led me to train for and join Force Recon.
I spent six months as part of the initial invasion of Iraq, and then six months training before going back for my second tour. It was supposed to end in June 2004. That’s when the Battalion Sergeant Major called me into an office in the TOC (Tactical Operations Center). Sergeant Major Burt was a small, unassuming man from Texas. That was until you did something to upset or piss him off, then he was as mean as a cornered badger.
He asked me if I’d overstay my tour by two months. 1/4 (1st Battalion, 4th Marines) were deploying and had a CAAT (Combine Arms Assault Team) that was on their first deployment. They were to take over operational control of the An Najaf and Al-Qadisiyah provinces.
It seemed that one of the Marines in that CAAT was the son of a politician who had started making calls and using favors. I never knew if the guy was a federal, state, or local politician and honestly didn’t give a fuck about some hypocritical politician. They are all fucking hypocrites no matter what side of the aisle they claimed to be on. Hell, as far as I was concerned, Staff Officers are generally just as bad as politicians. The good ones were few and far between. For the most part, politicians and generals would fuck over those below them in a heartbeat to make themselves look good.
I stopped the Sergeant Major when he was about to tell me the Marines’ name. I didn’t need to know. I was going to help the whole team. I could tell he didn’t want to ask me to do it. But as the old adage says, shit rolls downhill.
He was going to try and ram a battlefield promotion through for me but we both knew that it wasn’t going to do anything but die a bureaucratic death. I appreciated the thought though.
Once I had all my gear packed, and said my goodbyes to the guys, I was rushed to a helicopter. Half an hour later, I was landing at FOB (Forward Operating Base) Echo. The ¼ took over on 31 July 2004. I was showing up a day later on the 1st.
I walked into the Weapons Company area, the guys who handled the heavy weapons. There were three sections: anti-armor with TOW and Javelin missile systems; 81mm mortar; and a Heavy Machine Gun Platoon operating M2.50 Cal machine guns and MK-19 40mm automatic grenade launchers.
The company commander just looked at me like I was the plague when I reported in. I informed him that I didn’t want to disrupt how they did things. He then informed me that the team I was assigned to was going out in the morning. They were escorting two female Corpsmen on a visit to a maternity clinic in Najaf. He impressed upon me how nothing was to happen to those two Corpsmen. I informed him that I would do my best.
With that, I was dismissed. Then it was time to find the team. I wasn’t looking to become buddies, just get them and me through my time here alive and whole. Hopefully they would get some important information from me that would help them survive their deployment.
Upon locating them, it was obvious that the Sergeant leading them didn’t like me being here. I assured him I was only here to observe and offer constructive criticism. He was in charge, and I was just along for the ride. He didn’t give me any more info on the mission tomorrow. After getting something to eat, I started getting everything for the mission in the morning.
Getting up, it was already hot as hell at 0400. Three hours and we’d be pulling out of the FOB. They had three HUMVEEs staged in the company area and were going over them. I was going to be in the HUMVEE with the Corpsmen, a driver, and a gunner on a 50 cal.
Looking in the back of the HUMVEE, I noticed the cooler back there was empty. Checking the other HUMVEEs, those coolers were empty as well. When I asked the Sergeant about this, he had no clue. I told him that there should be two freezers in the Mess Hall full of bottled water. Keeping hydrated was an absolute must in Iraq. There was a look of acknowledgement on his face. We took the coolers one by one and filled them up.
While he was filling up the last one, I went over to the ammunition supply point. I got a supplemental load of ammunition. I added four more cans of 50 Cal ammo to those trucks and three more cans of 40mm grenades. The guys were looking at me like what the hell was I doing. Once I finished that, I started back to the HUMVEEs with an ammo can of 5.56 and a bag of empty mags. Taking my seat, I started loading mags while I waited for departure time.
I had enough time to load all the rounds up, putting the small ruck sack containing them just behind the back seats. That’s when the Corpsmen showed up. This was only going to get even more complicated, as the taller of the two was a Chief Petty Officer. Seemed somebody wanted more promotion points.
I stopped her before she could get over to the HUMVEEs. We then had a heated discussion, as I let her know that the only thing she had control over was medical issues. The Sergeant had operational control over the convoy, and I had control of our HUMVEE.
The Sergeant came over and double checked everyone’s gear even though I’d already done it. While that was going on, I double checked that all the commo gear in the HUMVEE was good to go.
The convoy got moving on time. The .50 Cal gunners test fired their weapons after we cleared the wire. There was a concrete wall with evidence of many weapon checks. I had to remind the ladies to charge their weapons and then put them on safe.
The ladies having weapons might be more problems than it was worth. They also had to be told to keep an eye out their window rather than have some sort of hen party in the back. They seemed to think this was some sort of leisurely Sunday drive.
Arriving at the clinic, we pulled up in front and dismounted. Then we were informed by the Corpsmen that men would not be allowed in the clinic. The Sergeant and I had a conversation, then he informed the Corpsmen that if they were told to leave, then they were to leave. We would drag them kicking and screaming if need be.
The Sergeant set the vehicles out to cover the building. Two were covering the front corners and the third was at the back corner. We had been there for about twenty minutes before things started getting sketchy. Someone kept opening and looking out of the front gate of the compound across the street. I radioed in the observation to the Sergeant; he put everyone on high alert. Things went south pretty rapidly soon after that. The truck covering the rear of the building reported that people were streaming out of the back of the clinic. The Corpsmen came barreling out the front.
I let the sergeant know this was a prelude to an attack. If the locals left an area, shit was about to go down. Within seconds of getting off the radio, someone was screaming RPG. The guns opened up and an explosion rocked the HUMVEE.
The Sergeant began issuing orders to everyone. I switched radio nets and let the TOC know that they had troops in contact. Everyone but the gunners took cover behind the vehicles. There was a continuous exchange of small arms fire and occasionally there would be an RPG fired at us. They weren’t that accurate as they’d pop out of cover fire and quickly get back into cover.
There were a couple of bodies we could see that were lying in an alley next to the compound across the street. Problem was that when one was killed it seemed another took his place immediately. The clinic and the building across the street were already starting to look like condemned buildings.