Airport 7

deployment, after leaving katie at the gate

Iraq was hardly what it was made out to be. Besides kicking in a few doors, most of our patrols lacked the anticipated action and shootout sequences we had been told to expect. Instead, our unit fostered community meetings between local leaders, provided transport and overwatch for other units in the division, and spent most hours of the night crawling through rubble and tight sidestreets in guntrucks and bradleys. There were a few assignments, of course, which offered us the chance to actually "do our jobs". These were 72 hour 'kill' missions where we would break into a tactically situated home or apartment in order to secure a local target or suspected meeting place. We would quarter the family in a single room, set up overwatch and simply wait for our mission assignment. Our patrols were difficult to disguise, as much as we varied our routes through our assigned neighborhoods, so by setting up shop after entering a specific area on foot, we could retain the element of surprise.

I was selected for very few such missions, but on one I made my presence known. We were camped out in the second story bedroom of a home overlooking a large empty lot bordered on three sides by local streets and homes, with the far side being a main thoroughfare with several lanes going in each direction. We had been briefed on suspected feuding between local sects, where followers from one mosque were targeting and killing the followers and family members of the other, and vice versa. They would kidnap individuals, torturing them before killing them and leaving them at the doorstep of their family's home. After taking residence in the home, we had spent the greater part of 24 hours watching routine business taking place in the open neighborhood and lot, with nothing remotely suspicious. Another soldier and I had found what appeared to be a class yearbook, and were flipping through the pages.

An older white sedan had pulled in from them main road and was heading straight towards us, when suddenly they stopped and pulled off to park alongside the road in the open lot. It was suspicious because the two occupants sat there, not getting out, nor being met by anyone from the surrounding homes. Finally they both exited, and in the driver's hand was a handgun, no mistake. They were opening the trunk as we sprung into action, alerting our platoon leader and readying our weapons. It was not illegal to have weapons, but outside your property weapons were considered an act of aggression, and under our directive for this mission we would not necessarily have to wait to be fired upon in order to engage, if our commander felt fit to order it. The trunk lid remained open as I anchored my SAW light machine gun on the window grate. I could not see what they were doing, until they finally closed the trunk.

There was a man standing there, bound and blindfolded, between the two men. As we waited to engage our targets, roughly 300 meters out, I felt that I understood my duty but I was not about to be the first to fire. We also had not received the order to engage, but it would make little difference as I watched the driver raise the gun and fire a single shot into the man's temple. He crumpled in a heap at the rear of the car as my SAW and my battle's M4 erupted, spraying the ground leading up to the two men. They first ducked behind the car, then bravely worked their way back to the doors while attempting to return fire and quickly entered. Almost immediately they were moving, but they didn't dare attempt to turn around, for fear of being pinned down while negotiating a three-point turn. It was too simple, the vehicle was heading straight for us, and I Iit up the ground with my oversized clip, working my way up the hood and windshield on the driver's side of the car. It slowed for a moment, and we paused, but the car kept moving, heading straight for the home before executing a right turn and working its way out of the neighborhood. Once we lost the ability to fire from our position, we informed the tactical patrol roaming the neighborhood so they could assume pursuit. We prepared for exfil and left the home in a hurry.

It had all happened in a matter of moments, really, from the point where I could have easily nodded off to sleep to where I assumed the right to fire on two men I had never seen before. No uniforms, and the only justification being that the man who had surely been killed by the two was now dead. I would never know his story, nor would I know of the two men who had gotten away.

It was later reported one man had been discovered by the local police forces in a nearby home with gunshot wounds. He had bled to death. The other insurgent was never located.