Chapter 32: Route Indigo

March 2006 - May 2006

Deploying to Iraq was exactly like it had been the first time for me. I now knew what I was doing, but I was also now responsible for four other people. Thankfully we had checklists and procedures because we would surely have forgotten something or somebody otherwise. The veterans weren’t so much of a problem, because they knew the penalty for fucking up was a lot worse than a demerit or getting chewed out. Fuck up and you might die. The newbies, and I included Givens in that, either didn’t know, or they knew but didn’t believe. It was my job to catch them.

Kelly flew up on the weekend before we deployed. I managed to take off enough time to drive down to the Syracuse airport and pick her up, and then we drove back to Watertown. Unlike some past weekends, I wouldn’t be able to spend much time with her, just evenings. I left her my Subaru. The day before we were to deploy, we loaded all my gear that I wasn’t taking to Iraq into the back of the Subaru. I could have stored it in the secured storage at the motor pool but saw no reason for that. My brothers could drive it until I returned. Then I kissed her one last time and sent her back to Matucket. I was going back to war.

Once we got to Kuwait, we took several days to acclimate and gear up, then we met up with some guys from the 101^st Airborne who would be with us while we convoyed to Baghdad and Camp Victory. Bravo Three was traveling in two Humvees, each of which was pulling a trailer. More importantly, each Humvee had an M-240 in a roof mount, with an upgraded armor package protecting us and forming a small turret protecting the gunner. Before we left Kuwait, I pulled the team together one last time before we hit the border to Iraq.

I looked at the others. “Okay, guys, this is it. Once we cross the line, we are in enemy territory. Nobody over there is your friend. Everybody hates you and wants to kill you. The only people you can trust are the people you came in with. This is it. Game faces on.” I put my right hand out. Riley Fox immediately reached out and put his right hand on top of mine. The other three looked startled but did the same. “We all go in; we all go home. That’s the promise.” Riley repeated it, followed by Givens, Montoya, and Gonzalez.

We got into our trucks. Givens settled in behind the wheel while Montoya assumed the gunner’s position. Over in the other truck Gonzalez took the gunner’s position. The gunner and driver would switch off as needed. Riley Fox was moving towards the driver’s door when I approached. He turned and came towards me. “It’s real, isn’t it? We’re back in the shit now,” he said to me.

“Remind me why we enlisted again,” I responded.

“Fuck if I know!”

I grabbed him by the back of the neck and dragged him closer, and we bumped helmets. “Game face on, Riley.”

“Game face on, Grim.”

We split apart and he took his position driving the second truck, while I got into the passenger seat of the first truck. It was time to go to war.

We convoyed up to Baghdad. Camp Victory was still growing, and I wondered how many billions we had poured into it. For every one of us assholes out there on the line, there were probably two safe and snug in Baghdad. I later learned that it was closer to three people at Camp Victory for every one of us out on the line. I hadn’t realized that when I deployed the first time, but it was obvious now. Sure, I knew that some people, like the hospital staffs and the helicopter bunch, just couldn’t be deployed forward. Still, I saw more than a few fat soldiers in Baghdad, and you just hadn’t seen that at Camp Custer. We worked it off you out there in the boonies.

The one thing we learned quickly at Camp Victory was that we were not going to do a repeat of our last mission. Camp Custer had been along Route 1 west of Baghdad, between Ramadi and Fallujah. We had been strung out like pearls along the road, guarding it and keeping the hajjis from blowing it up. That had been along the southern edge of the ‘Sunni Triangle’, which was mostly north and west of Baghdad. We were not going back to Camp Custer, or anywhere near it for that matter.

Our new home away from home hadn’t even been built yet. Fourth of the Fourth was now heading to a new place, the ‘Triangle of Death’. That was a roughly triangular piece of terrain south of Baghdad, mostly on the banks of the Euphrates River, interlaced with canals and roads. It was densely populated, with at least a million Sunnis living there, and with endless supplies of weapons and ammunition dating back to Saddam Hussein’s days. It was supposedly even less welcoming to Americans than Dush-el-Kebir had been. We were relieving elements of the 101^st Airborne, which had generally left it alone as too dangerous to enter. Fourth of the Fourth was going to be sent into this place to calm them down.

Right! Riley and I just looked at each other and shook our heads. We were so fucked!

Our first move was to convoy back south along Route 1 to Mahaweel. As usual we drove with a couple of specialized engineer vehicles at the front of the convoy, called Iron Claw and Husky. These were supposed to be bomb-proof and had remote control sensors and claws that the operators on the inside could use to sniff out and check stuff on the side of the road. We had them around on my first trip over here, and they usually preceded us down the road. If they sensed something in the road, they could stop and deploy a gigantic robot arm to pick it up and move it or blow it up. That was the theory, anyway. It didn’t always work. Occasionally the hajjis would rig up a bomb big enough to blow up even a bomb-proof vehicle, and occasionally they would just not see the bomb to begin with.

Our first indication that we were really screwed was when we got to Mahaweel and linked up with a second pair of anti-IED Buffaloes, rigged up like the two we had traveled with. Wherever we were going was so dangerous it took four machines to protect us. The convoy also picked up some heavy gun trucks, with powered turrets and dual Ma Deuce .50 caliber machine guns mounted. These were provided courtesy of the 101^st, who would protect us.

That was some truly heavy firepower. Those of us who had been to Iraq or Afghanistan were all eyeing each other. If we needed this much firepower to get where we were going, just what kind of a shithole were we going to?

That shithole proved to be a place called Musayib, which was on the bank of the Euphrates at a bend in the river. The road from Mahaweel to Musayib rambled all over the place, with lots of bends and curves. As soon as we got out of sight of Mahaweel, the locals decided to welcome us to their midst by randomly shooting at us. This really freaked out Givens, who, for all his tough-guy-from-the-mean-streets-of-Detroit attitude, had never really been around violence, at least not like this. I reached over and gently took his shoulder. He looked at me with wide eyes. I calmly said, “Just drive. You know how to do this. It’s just like in training. Don’t worry so much. The AKs can’t hurt you in here.” I didn’t tell him that an RPG would peel us open like a grapefruit.

He swallowed and nodded, then turned back towards the road. Montoya seemed calmer, maybe because he had a gun he could shoot back with if I told him to. Once we got away from the base, things quieted down a bit. It wasn’t all that far to Musayib, not much more than twenty klicks, about a dozen miles. We could do it in an afternoon hike. Of course, none of us would have survived an afternoon hike in the area, but it wasn’t all that far. It still took us the better part of two hours, because one of the supposedly mine-resistant Buffaloes got stopped by an IED. They had to rig a tow to pull it to Musayib with us.

A short platoon from the 101^st was waiting for us in Musayib, securing the place. That was to be battalion headquarters. From there we would move out to our final destinations, and final sounded to be just that - final! That was where we were able to get out of our trucks and have a look around. Southerland and Levi went off to find out what was to happen next. Bixley told the squad to stay near the trucks, but they could break to use the latrine facilities. I told the guys flat out to never travel anywhere without somebody else. Suddenly all those quaint battle buddy lectures got very real, very fast.

When Southerland and Levi returned, they called all the squad leaders together to give them the word. Bix came back with a map and told us what was happening. “Fourth of the Fourth gets to hold and secure a chunk of road from about where we started, Mahaweel, on through Musayib - here - and on up to a place called Jurf Sakhar. Nobody will be allowed to travel on this road except for authorized traffic. This is going to be called Route Indigo. Battalion will be located here. We’re going to eat here and then each company will move out to their locations from here.” He unfolded a photocopied map on the hood of a truck, and then stabbed it with a grimy thumb. This is going to be where Alpha Company goes. It doesn’t even have a name, just a number. We’ll be heading to 25-42. Once we get there, we’ll bunk down for the night and then move out to our platoon positions tomorrow.”

Then it got a little more ominous. “Unlike Musayib, 25-42 has not been secured. The only people waiting for us there will not be friendly. You can expect that they will take exception with our visit. We don’t care. We are going anyway. Understood?”

“Understood, Sarge,” I replied, and Bruno repeated that a second later. Everybody else chimed in after that.

“Good. Break out some MREs and make sure you fill your canteens. Be ready to move out in thirty,” he ordered, and we went off to our trucks.

I made sure to talk to my guys while we ate. “You stay alert. Eyes all around, not just in front. Hold your fire until I say to fire, but if I say it, you fire. Nobody gets away free. You shoot center mass and you put your target down. We are relatively impervious to bullets and shrapnel, but if you see somebody with an RPG, take them out. Those are high priority. Don’t even wait for somebody on those. Shoot first and ask questions later. Riley, keep your eyes open and keep talking to Gonzalez. Everybody clear on this?”

I looked at the three rookies. “You guys nervous this morning, driving in? Come on, tell me straight.” They all looked at each other, but nobody answered. “Come on, Givens, I saw you, you were scared, weren’t you? Tell the truth.” I was smiling as I asked this.

He looked very embarrassed, but he nodded. Once he had admitted it, the other two quickly agreed. I smiled and said, “Good! You’re supposed to be scared! Hell, I’m scared, and so is Fox. Anybody with two brain cells should be afraid. If you’re not afraid, that just means you’re stupid, and stupid people don’t survive long over here. Don’t worry about being afraid, make it work for you. Fear gets your adrenaline going, your heart pumping, your senses sharper. Use it! Stay sharp!” The three of them looked at each other and I could almost see them taking a deep breath and relaxing a touch.

According to the map that Bix had shown us, Headquarters Company and Battalion would occupy Mahaweel, along with a few other support elements, like the engineers and supply. Charlie Company would move back towards Musayib. HQ, Charlie, and Battalion would be responsible for holding Route Indigo east from Musayib. Bravo Company and Alpha Company would be on the west side, moving almost to Jurf Sahkar. In some respects, it was like what we had done at Camp Custer, but in that case, we had been on the southern edge of the nastiness. Now we were going straight into the center.

After lunch, it was time to saddle up and move out. The heavy gun trucks and engineer vehicles would accompany us to 25-42, escorting Alpha and Bravo Companies before returning to Musayib. We were dropping Bravo Company off at their designated hellhole, about halfway to 25-42, before continuing.

We moved out with the heavies and Buffaloes leading the way, followed by Bravo Company, and then Alpha Company played tail-end-Charlie. Overhead we had a pair of Apaches on call in case things got ridiculous, but they must have been high up and away, because I never spotted them. Once we got out of sight of Musayib we started taking light fire, but the gun trucks and Bravo Company handled that. No IEDs stopped us, but I didn’t know why. Did we manage to avoid them, or did we take the hajjis by surprise, and they hadn’t planted any? We pulled into a small shithole called Kasmiri about 1400 and immediately circled the wagons. The Bravo Company CO and an interpreter, along with a squad of soldiers, approached a large building between the road and a canal. A few minutes later we watched the occupants of the building come pouring out, and the squad went in. Bravo Company was in their new home.

We didn’t stay long in Kasmiri. We left Bravo behind, and the heavies and Buffaloes moved back out onto Indigo with us following. The hajjis were starting to get their act together, and the fire this time seemed a little heavier as we moved north and west up the road. 25-42 was just about ten klicks further, and we still hadn’t hit any IEDs, but nobody expected that to last much longer. It was too late in the day to deploy to our final sites, so we hunkered down for the night at 25-42. Alpha Company headquarters would be what seemed like a small farm next to the canal. It was abandoned, or at least nobody was home when we moved in. It had a stone or mud brick wall surrounding it, and that became our defensive perimeter. Inside we forted up as best we could for the night, and kept the gun trucks facing outward, so we had weapons ready to fire. Every platoon supplied sentries and guards; we were not taking any chances.

In the morning, we got our final orders. The Headquarters Platoon would stay at 25-42, now being called Anaconda Base. First Platoon would move back along the road to a spot called Anaconda One, where they could call on support from either Headquarters Platoon or Battalion in Musayib; between First and Headquarters Platoon they would control the central section of our section of Indigo. Second Platoon would move three klicks further north and west and take up a position called Anaconda Two. Third Platoon would be further out, on the north and west side of Third Platoon, at Anaconda Three. We were going to be the last bead on the string, with our asses dangling in the breeze.

Great!

When we moved out, Headquarters and First Platoons stayed at 25-42, making it livable. Captain Vernier, our Company Commander, rode with Lieutenant Chelle, the Second Platoon Leader, as both Second and Third Platoons moved on up Route Indigo. What helped a lot was that before we had set out driving up Route Indigo, we had been provided with a bunch of recon photos showing the entire route, and our eventual fortification positions. While we all knew that the information wouldn’t be current for long, it was very helpful in picking out where Anaconda Two would be planted. We dropped Second Platoon at Anaconda Two, and then went another four klicks up the road to set up Anaconda Three.

Anaconda Three was an old farmhouse in between Route Indigo and the Al Jasri Canal, an offshoot of the Euphrates. The Al Jasri wasn’t much of a canal, but it was too deep to be able to drive across. There was a low wall around the place, and it was big enough that a Blackhawk could come in for a dust-off if needed. The only problem was that Anaconda Three was still occupied. A man and his family were living in the farmhouse, and they did not want to move out. A fire team from First Squad went with Captain Vernier and Lieutenant Southerland as they and our interpreter, Farid, spoke to the owner. Vernier and Southerland were polite, the owner quite a bit less so. He was yelling and waving his arms around at Farid, right until Staff Sergeant Williamette raised his M-4 and pointed it at him. He settled down right quick after that! Eventually Vernier opened a rucksack and pulled out a stack of bills and handed it to him, and Williamette pointed towards the road. We had just bought Anaconda Three. The farmer and his family grabbed some stuff and threw it into bags, and then ran out of the gate and into the village across the road. Where they went, I didn’t know, and I didn’t care.

Once that was done, Southerland called his squad leaders together for an update. Bravo Three stayed with our trucks, with Montoya and Gonzalez at the gun mounts. Riley, Givens, and I got out to stretch and look around, but we didn’t go far. I could feel about a million eyes staring at me from outside the wall. It was not a warm and loving feeling.

Bixley came over a few minutes later, and he called me and Bruno over. “Welcome to Anaconda Three. This is home sweet home. They promise us some engineer support in a day or two, to make it livable and defendable, but in the meantime, we are it. We’re on defense while everybody else starts moving in.” I nodded, as did Bruno. It was one of the things we trained for. Bix noted our understanding and continued, “I want Alpha up on the roof now. This is going to be our command post until something better gets built. Bravo will be down here watching the canal and will spell you in a couple of hours; you’ll swap off on that. Weapons Squad will handle security along the wall. The other two squads are going to start moving stuff into the CP and that storage building over there.” He pointed at a shack by the canal. “Don’t get too attached to anything. The engineers will probably redo it all anyway.”

I looked at Bruno and nodded, and he nodded back. He might be an asshole, and I’m sure he thought the same of me, but it didn’t matter. We were professionals and would get the job done. Either one of us would take a bullet for the other during a battle, and then after the battle punch the other one out for being a jerk. I said, “Give me a few minutes to look around down here and position the guys, and I’ll meet you up there to look around.”

“Let’s do it,” agreed Bruno.

We split apart and I returned to our trucks. “Gear up. We’re on perimeter security down here behind the building, along the canal. Check your armor and weapons. Leave your personal shit where it is. Fill your canteens, grab an MRE, and dig out your range cards and pencils. Riley, take a laser range finder. If we need the NVGs, we’ll grab them later. Move it.”