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VIEWPOINTTACTICAL.COM
CRAZY JAY JOHNSONBy Andre’ M. Dall’au
DEATH IN THE CORNPARTS II AND IIIBy Michael Yon
BOOK REVIEW: “CARNIVORE”
A LOOK AT THE NUMBERS
WEL
COM
E
4
OURVIEWPOINT
It is the VIEWPOINT of this publication to provide articles that educate, engage, maybe even shock the reader. VPTAC contrib-utors are experienced MIL, LE, PMC, Homeland, Intel, Train-ers, Operators and more. They contribute because they feel the need to speak about their VIEWPOINT. Some will engage us with world events others the latest training observations... others may shed some light on things we know nothing about.
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CONT
ENTS 8 DEATH IN THE CORN PARTS II AND III
By Michael Yon
30 CRAZY JAY JOHNSON By Andre’ M. Dall’au
36 NUMBERS 40 Rock Of The Marne!
41 Book Review: “Carnivore”
ISSUE 5, FALL 2015
VIEWPOINTTACTICAL.COM6
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CONT
ENTS
ISSUE 5, FALL 2015
DEAT
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8
FRON
TLIN
ES The ambush was set, but “Terry” Taliban didn’t step into it. The most successful hunters are not the ones who bag something every time, but the ones who hunt all the time, and 2 Para has been hunting the most danger-ous prey. The soldiers of C-co 2 Para are not sure how many they’ve killed in the past
five months, but the estimates are around 200, and during the days I spent with them, their average daily kill would put them well over that number.
Reporter Michael Yon’s Diary of his time spent in Afghanistan with British Troops
Helmand Province, Afghanistan
Moving out of our ambush position, we set off from the ANA (Afghan National Army) compound to “tab” (walk) back to Gib, watching every step. While a soldier with a metal detector swept a skinny path ahead, other soldiers scanned the flanks, simultaneously trying to step in the prints just laid. The soldiers watched not only for ambush and mines and other bombs, but for “dickers.” Dicker is a British term derived from the war in Northern Ireland, where the enemy had a simple but effective sys-tem of look-outs to track British patrols and activities.
We arrived safely back on Gib, and the soldiers went about their business. Some headed to the outdoor gym nestled among the mortar pits, while others cleaned their dusty weapons. By 0800, the heat was already rising, but I fell asleep, sweating on a green canvas cot under a mos-quito net inside a tent that trapped heat during the day.
Perhaps an hour into the slumber, a British sniper and his spotter were up scanning the corn, tree-lines and build-ings with their optics. The sniper’s .338 caliber bullets are powerful enough to flat-blast a Griz-zly. The bullet is powerful enough to penetrate most body armor, and still kill the wearer. The sniper scanned through the crosshairs while corn tas-sels waved in the hot breeze, until the image of a dicker fell under the reti-cule. The bearded man wearing a tur-ban was observing a British patrol, ap-parently thinking he was hidden by the trees. The sniper dialed in the range.
But neither the sniper nor spot-ter could see a radio or weapon in the dicker’s hands, and they did not want to mistakenly shoot a curious farmer. Yet a dicker doesn’t always need a radio or telephone. He can signal, or just walk away and tell what he sees, or pick up a radio hidden nearby. He can carry a snuff box with a little mirror inside for checking his mustache, and use the mirror for signaling. The decision was made to fire a warn-ing shot. If the man was Taliban or working for them, he would get a free lesson on how to do it better tomorrow. If he was just a farmer, he might say the British shot at him but missed.
The sniper controlled his breathing and slowly exhaled one final breath. He squeezed the light trigger…BAM!
Bear-stopping bullet launched at three times the speed of sound over the corn, startling birds that fluttered away. The slug hit a tree, splintered through bark, ricocheted, and struck the man, who fell. What can be said other than, oops?
The man probably was dicking the patrol, and the locals had been duly warned to stay back. Still, the ricochet was unfortunate and the wound turned out to be critical. Locals gathered the wounded man and rushed him to the gate of FOB Gibraltar, where medics quickly took him in. The British and Americans provide one-stop shopping for the enemy; they will shoot down the enemy free of charge, and if he survives, provide top-notch free medical care. The British doctor, Captain Aki Lalani, pulled on the blue latex gloves and went to work. While Dr. Lalani and the med-ics tried to save the man, they called for a medevac helicopter, which roared into Gibraltar. (The British are critically short on helicopters, yet on two separate oc-casions the British diverted helicopters solely to pick up wounded Afghans. In each case, I saw good reason to believe that the men were Taliban, or at least helping the Taliban.)
Gibraltar is so small that when a
helicopter lands, the whole camp is dusted, tents flap and rattle and quickly fill with even more grime, if that were possible. I stepped out of the tent, the grime and sweat turning to mud on my skin, and came around with the camera, just as some soldiers loaded the wound-ed dicker on the helicopter, which evac-uated him to Camp Bastion for the best trauma treatment just about anywhere in the world. There was credible infor-mation that Taliban were trying to shoot down a helicopter, but that the Taliban also did not shoot when they knew one of their wounded was aboard. Informa-tion would arrive that persuaded me the wounded man probably was either Taliban or working for them.
The British doctor who treated the Af-ghan is in the middle with blood-covered blue gloves. The last I heard, his patient had sur-vived for at least about the first 24 hours.
Each day, I would ask Major Adam Daw-son how the convoy to Kajaki was going. I was very concerned that it would fail, providing a windfall for the enemy (and a huge setback for us). Major Dawson was tight-lipped, but as the days rolled by, occasionally I got snippets that the top secret convoy was inching forward. Later it would become public that the average speed was a painful 1 mph for the more than 100 miles just to deliver the turbine.
Later that afternoon, after the man was shot and the helicopter flew him away, the en-emy sniper started shooting again. The rifle cracks were very loud, as if the rifle were be-ing fired from somewhere on the small FOB. The crack-to-bang got shorter by the day. There was maybe a third of a second between the supersonic crack of the bullet (which tru-ly was very loud) to the bang of the rifle that fired it. Sound at STP (standard temperature and pressure) travels at roughly 1,100 FPS. A rough estimate: 1,100FPS (1/3S) = a range of about 370 ft, or about 120 yards. He could be hit with a bow and arrow! Whatever the case, the sniper was very close, apparently hiding out in the cornfields.
There were some Danish soldiers on Gib—the British soldiers get a kick out of them. The Danish infantry, despite their small numbers, have a good reputation among the Brits because the Danes, they say, will mix it up. But the Danes at Gib were intelligence, not infantry. Recently, an American mission was running nearby, but our folks did not alert the Danes, who could have told our guys that they were about to be ambushed. A few minutes later, sounds from a fierce firefight rumbled over the base.
The Danes have always been interesting. I recall Special Forces friends coming home from Denmark, telling tales of the rigors of their scout swimming course, and saying that the Danish frogmen all swam like fish. The Danes would tell stories about the Vikings, but 10
FRON
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DEAT
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Yon
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the SF soldiers were more interested in hearing about Danish women. I’ve nev-er grown tired of hearing Danish stories. One never knows what they will say next. A Danish soldier at Gib told me that when he was younger, he operated a call-girl service from his house, right in front of his mom and his girlfriend.
The Danish section on Gib was just near the headquarters, and so I saw them frequently. Often, at least one of the Danish soldiers would be watching porn on a computer. When I told them that American soldiers would get busted for that, they were astonished. No, they were shocked. What?! American soldiers are not allowed to watch porn? The Brits couldn’t believe it, either. We’re just a bunch of Puritans to them. One particu-larly energetic Danish soldier had bought two blow-up dolls, and when I saw the dolls still in the packages, I thought it was a joke. But other Danes assured me, “It’s not a joke. He bought those for business.” Nobody seemed to mind that another soldier might be sleeping among them with his love balloon.
The Brits didn’t know what to think of the Danes, except that they were great at their job. The Danes served two func-tions: saving British lives, and comic relief. The Danes also had scored 16 cases of American MREs, and offered me all that I wanted. I promptly took a whole case and thanked them profusely.
That sniper in the corn, or wherever he was, kept shooting over FOB Gibraltar. A real sniper would have killed some of us by now. He was just a guy with a pow-erful rifle, yet it was only a matter of time before he blew someone’s head off. Usually he fired around dinnertime, but then grew bolder and began taking potshots during the day. He was at least smart enough to fire only one shot at a time, and to space out his shots, while apparently moving around.
FRON
TLIN
ES The next morning at about sunrise, we
were out on a mission, heading in the direc-tion where the sniper was known to lurk. We were not looking for the sniper, but the Brits were attempting to lure the enemy into at-tacking, and Terry kindly obliged.
The Taliban imposes a curfew. After sun-set, Terry turns on the bombs in case the Brit-ish come to attack at night. Then, just after sunrise, they turn off the bombs so locals can work the fields. The locals often mark IEDs with plastic in a tree, or a bottle on a stick, or some other marker. Terry uses saw blades and mortar rounds and HME (homemade explo-sives), and landmines in their bombs. Soldiers get arms and legs blown off. With the excel-lent body armor, immediate access to doctors like CPT Aki Lalani, helicopters, and outstand-ing trauma centers at places like Camp Bas-tion, sometimes a soldier will lose multiple limbs and survive.
The mission was divided into several sec-tions. The section I followed was to occupy a fire support location called Lima 1-1. It was a recently abandoned family compound, which can house up to a couple dozen family mem-bers. The compounds are made like little forts, complete with firing positions, some-times even moats and watch towers.
DEAT
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The Taliban imposes a curfew. After sunset, Terry turns on the bombs in case the British come
to attack at night. Then, just after sunrise, they turn off the bombs so locals can work the fields. The locals often mark IEDs with plastic in a tree, or
a bottle on a stick, or some other marker. Terry uses saw blades and mortar rounds and
HME (homemade explosives), and landmines in their bombs.
14
We would get into position first, to observe and cover the other two ele-ments as they moved deeper into Terry country. As if we could go any “deep-er.” The Command Sergeant Major, who told me to call him Charley, was at the head of our group, while Major Adam Dawson led the element most likely to get into serious contact. The Danes had told me that every time the base comes under attack, CSM Charley just walks around calmly. The Danes said that one day he had a cup of coffee in his hand—saying things like, “Stay focused. Pick your shots. Good job, keep at it boys. You’re doing fine work.”
I waited to give them time to get into position before climbing up. If a firefight broke out, or there was a bomb hidden on the roof, it would be bad to have an extra man in the way who was only car-rying a camera. As a writer, it’s better to stay out of the way while the soldiers set up security, then move into position af-ter they settle in, unless they tell you to come straight away.
Once they were set, I climbed up
to where soldiers were watching the next position.
The soldiers had seen a man who
appeared to be a dicker, possibly track-
ing the unit that we were over-watching. But since we all split up in the corn, the dicker seemed to have lost sight of our element, and didn’t realize he was in the crosshairs. The sniper reached up and dialed the range on his scope bezel. Soldiers had said earlier that this British sniper had already dispatched his share of Taliban.
“I’ve got him,” said the British sniper, as he steadied the crosshairs, controlled his breathing and squeezed the trigger. BAM! The rifle cracked and the bullet raced at about Mach 3—SNAP!—just next to the man, the bullet crashed through the trees. Since neither the CLU nor the sniper could
see a weapon or radio, the sniper fired only a warning shot. The man hit the ground and slithered away.
Some soldiers were betting when we would be attacked, but then an hour had passed, and nothing. By 0900, I was asleep on the roof. Then a firefight broke out far in front of us. At least one of the forward ele-ments was in contact. The gunfire and ex-plosions were loud, but none of our guys at Lima 1-1 had identified targets, so they just scanned while holding fire. An 81mm mortar at Gib fired a single HE (high explosive round) with a 40-meter lethal radius. Wham! The shot arced straight over our heads—we were between Gib and the target. Artillery is un-
FRON
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The gunfire and explosions were loud, but none of our guys at Lima 1-1 had identified targets,
so they just scanned while holding fire. An 81mm mortar at Gib fired a single HE (high ex-plosive round) with a 40-meter lethal radius.
Wham! The shot arced straight over our heads we were between Gib and the target.
DEAT
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16
FRON
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ESmistakable, but that mortar seemed quiet, or the shooting drowned it out; I did not hear it fly over us: BOOM! Impact. On tar-get. The mortar team launched more HE rounds, which rained down directly on tar-get. Fine shooting, and very fast. Enemy firing stopped, and the Brits stopped firing.
At 0920, Major Dawson ordered white phosphorous smoke to be fired in the vi-cinity of the enemy, hoping to draw a re-sponse. If they were alive and well and still there, the enemy wisely refused to
fire. Word came that some enemy were moving in our general direction, then I fell back asleep. While I slept, at 1012, Major Dawson ordered more smoke, which also drew no response. The soldiers at Lima 1-1 stayed on high alert, and constant commu-nication (I would occasionally wake and hear them).
USMC Harriers were flying overhead cover, but they had to go somewhere else. I heard two or three bombs that morning and they were likely no more than a few miles away, which might have been the Harriers. There was at least one short fire-fight that was not related to 2 Para. The CSM, Charley, said he thought our Marines were attacking someone, or maybe it was Special Forces. Major Dawson told me lat-er that the Marine Harriers came back, but were short on gas and had to get fuel, and
so were replaced by British Harriers, which loi-tered until they, too, had to go away for fuel. Each time contact started, the jets were gone bombing someone else or getting gas.
There was some heavy shooting far in front of us that abated within minutes, and I fell back asleep in the last slivers of shade. Then a very sharp firefight broke out at the forward positions. Again, Lima 1-1 was not involved, but intelligence came in that Taliban might be heading in our direction, although no one knew if they were aware of our position. Prob-
ably they did know, because two boys rode by on a donkey, and there were other compounds nearby where we could hear dogs barking and kids playing. Some of the dogs here are mas-sive and look like Cujo.
I tried to fall back asleep, but the shade was evaporating as the sun rose, and every time sweet dreams started, they were interrupted by a firefight, so I climbed down the precarious ladder to sit with Dr. Lalani. Soldiers have great respect for medical doctors who can justifiably stay on base, but instead push into combat. If the doctor is there during those first minutes after a soldier is wounded, there is a far greater chance of survival.
At about 1106, the enemy initiated con-tact on one of the forward positions. It was so loud that I thought our guys were firing from the roof. Rockets were blasting away. About 40
I tried to fall back asleep, but the shade was evap-orating as the sun rose, and every time sweet
dreams started, they were interrupted by a fire-fight, so I climbed down the precarious ladder to
sit with Dr. Lalani. Soldiers have great respect for medical doctors who can justifiably stay on base,
but instead push into combat. If the doctor is there during those first minutes after a soldier is
wounded, there is a far greater chance of survival.
DEAT
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hael
Yon
seconds after contact, the 81mm mor-tars were firing straight over our heads and crashing down on enemy positions about a klick to our front. Thousands of rounds were being fired, though the guns all around me were silent.
The elements up front were fight-ing while I just listened to the gunfire and explosions while eating one of the MREs the Danes had given me. Up front in the fight, Lance Corporal Alex Fraenzel was hauling a Javelin missile. Fraenzel and Private Richard Lloyd ran forward. While Fraenzel set up for the shot, Lloyd began firing his SA-80 rifle into suspected enemy positions to pro-vide cover.
Fraenzel spotted an armed target that was out of Lloyd’s rifle range. He pressed and held the seeker trigger until the picture came on. Then he released
the seeker trigger. Javelins are incred-ibly accurate. Fraenzel brought the tracking gates down to cover the target, then pressed and held the seeker trig-ger to get a lock. With bullets snapping by, Fraenzel held the firing trigger and . . . instead of WHOOSHHH, missile away, he got the red symbol of a missile with a line through it. Misfire.
Fraenzel released the triggers and locked on again, and again tried to fire. Nothing. With bullets cracking by, Pri-vate Lloyd did not realize there was a misfire and wondered why Fraenzel was taking so long. He turned to Fraenzel and said, “Hurry the f... up!!!”
Fraenzel was in a pickle. The missile might fire on its own at any moment. Fraenzel held his ground, turned off the CLU, turned it back on and tried the whole thing again. The
Javelin didn’t work. Fraenzel took off the CLU and attached another Javelin. This one launched and hit the target. But they couldn’t leave the dud for the enemy, and so the two soldiers began pack-ing it up while the mortar crews started hammering away again.
Finally, on the sixth mortar fire mission that morning, smoke was dropped to cover extraction. We all moved back out through the corn, linking up with other elements, then back to Gibraltar.
The patrol returned to Gibral-
tar, not knowing how many Tali-ban they had killed, if any. But to-morrow they would go out hunting again. This time, they would bag their limit.
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Living with British troops of 2 Para at FOB Gibraltar and watching them fight, I witnessed one of the great paradoxes of Afghanistan. The troops are
fighting hard and killing the enemy. They are professional and extremely competent. Their
morale is high. They are doing a great job. And we are losing the war.
Their troubles with a local sniper demonstrate some of the complexities and frustrations of this war, which the British public don’t even call a “war.” The Brit-ish soldiers know this is a real war, but the British at home characterize it as a “conflict.” Meanwhile, Americans at home seem to mostly have forgotten about Afghanistan, though luckily they are starting to wake up. Yet it’s obvious here on the ground that this situation could deteriorate into something far worse than we ever saw in Iraq.
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DEATH IN THE CORN IIIBy Michael Yon
On 02 September, the enemy sniper was at it again, and so five British snipers were searching for probable firing positions. At one point, there was credi-ble information that the Taliban told the sniper that they could provide him an American scope. The sniper said he was happy with his iron sights. He was a terrible shot, but sooner or later he might get lucky.
The Brits know exactly who the sniper is. About half a doz-en fruit trees occluded fields of fire, so the soldiers cut them down. The Brits offered to pay for the trees, but were bound by regulations on how much they could pay. Major Adam Dawson told me the amount was something like $20 per tree, which of course is tantamount to zero. Achmed, an Afghan neigh-bor, came to collect the money, but the owner of the fruit tress had told Achmed not to accept payment. The owner was livid, saying: “I can’t believe Achmed let them cut down my trees! I’m going to go @#%& his wife!” I don’t know if anything happened to Achmed’s wife, but I do know that the Brits said the owner of the fruit trees bought himself a sniper rifle. He’s been shooting at Gibraltar ever since.
The British go by a chart that details how much they are allowed to pay for certain items they destroy. A tree, a car, a house, even a life—everything has its price. In Iraq, the payments truly could assuage anger at times. Few trans-gressions inflame the passions more than a sincere feeling of being manhandled and treated unjustly. The perception of injustice—especially coming from Americans or British, who many people see as monetarily omnipotent—can earn a bomb in the road, or a bullet in the head.
During 2005, the 278th Tennessee National Guard spent considerable time one day in the boonies of Iraq’s Diyala Province trying to find a shepherd to pay after they acciden-tally ran over a sheep with a Humvee. I also saw shepherds in that same area, on numerous occasions, waving down the 278th to show them mines or ammo they found. Time and again the shepherds collected large amounts of ammo, and sorted it by type for easy accounting and destruction. The 278th paid the shepherds and blew up the caches out near the Iranian border. Everyone was happy. The Iraqis made money. We didn’t get blown up.
But at another American unit, I recall officers grum-bling and haggling over how much they would pay Iraq-is for ammo they were turning in. These weren’t the rich Iraqis who sent their kids to Sandhurst or Paris for school, but the poor, uneducated ones who worked in dirty places where they sometimes found explosives, or perhaps earned some money planting them. And I thought what a shame—those Iraqis might, after all, sell the same explosives to ter-
rorists, or get paid more to just bury bombs in the roads. Such bombs killed or wounded literally tens of thousands of Americans and Iraqis. But there is a natural tendency among people the world over: few among us seem to like to pay poor people a fair price for anything. We think poor people should work for next to nothing and be happy for it. I have seen this kind of contempt for the poor throughout the world. Rich Iraqis do it to poor Iraqis. Rich Americans to poor Americans.
In Afghanistan, it’s probably only a matter of time be-fore the man who lost the trees shoots a British soldier, or a British soldier shoots the man’s head off, all for a pit-tance. The British soldiers are extremely competent, pro-fessional, and treat the Afghans well. They are soldiers that the British public should be proud of, and Americans are always proud to call them friends and allies who can be relied upon when bullets start flying. But the accounting department at home is putting these British soldiers into a rough situation and creating lethal enemies.
C-Company, 2 Para, has fired 17 Javelins in combat
during this tour. The soldiers are very fond of the missile system, and are reticent to talk bad about Javelins for fear they will not get any more. But out of those 17 Javelins, one went errant, and another failed to launch. The other 15 struck their targets.
The 2 Para soldiers take pride that they assault through the Taliban ambushes. During one particularly fierce battle, the 2 Para men were closing in and ready to destroy the
20
Taliban who had ambushed them, but a British Apache helicopter—apparently not realizing the soldiers could move so fast—accidentally fired on the soldiers. Nine were wounded, but luckily, none killed. The accident happened in July, but troops still mentioned the incident to me at least once a day while I was at FOB Gibraltar. They showed no anger toward the Apache crew, but in each case seemed disap-pointed that they hadn’t been able to continue the attack. The soldiers told me that the Tal-iban ambush had been well executed, and it took much effort for the Brits to maneuver into positions to pin the enemy, and prepare for a final assault to kill them. But that’s right when the Apache fired.
Losing the Good War As in Iraq, the media battle in Afghan-
istan is of vital importance. Domestic and international opinion can affect—or even determine—the outcome of this war. Right now, in the United States, Afghanistan is seen as the “Good War,” the one that was
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forced upon us, while Iraq was a war of choice. We’ll see how long that feeling can be sustained in America and Britain, while casualties mount and the war drags on. The Taliban have embarked on a strategy to split off our allies. Forces from countries seen as weaker in their support of the war are being targeted. If the Taliban can succeed in getting, say, France to withdraw from Afghani-stan, they will have landed a blow to our effort, with serious consequenc-es to the war here, as well as the NATO alliance. I read a secret docu-ment detailing the deaths 10 French soldiers who were killed during a Taliban ambush. American “Green Berets,” and much airpower, were involved in helping to break the at-tack on the French. Yet from the secret document and other reports that ring credible, the French lacked the necessary tools – sufficient com-munications gear, for example – to mitigate the attack. Some of the
As in Iraq, the media battle in Afghanistan is of vital importance. Domestic and internation-
al opinion can affect or even determine the outcome of this war. Right now, in the United
States, Afghanistan is seen as the “Good War,” the one that was forced upon us, while Iraq was a war of choice. We’ll see how long that feeling can be sustained in America and Britain, while
casualties mount and the war drags on.
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French apparently had run out of ammunition and were captured, killed, and their uniforms stripped. Several showed signs of being killed at close range. One of them had his throat slit.
The Taliban is apparently actively trying to split off the Canadians, and may well succeed. Some se-rious military thinkers feel that Afghanistan is not of sufficient strategic consequence to continue fighting for, and it’s clear that much of the Canadian public is ready to quit. Enemy leadership is fully aware of this, and are trying to exploit the Canadian weakness.
So far, the British are hanging tough. While their troops’ morale is high, back home in the United King-dom there seems to be a growing resentment that the Afghans do not appreciate the price the British are paying, in blood and treasure. Many of the Brit-ish soldiers have served multiple combat tours. And Afghanistan is more dangerous than Iraq for British troops. There were very few suicide bombings in the areas where the British served in Iraq. Now they are faced with this threat in Afghanistan.
On FOB Gibraltar, some 2 Para soldiers told me about their own experience with a suicide bomber. They were on patrol when a man holding a bag over his shoulder walked toward them. (A suicide bombing that killed the three other soldiers from 2 Para at nearby FOB Inkerman had put them on alert.) A British soldier said that he told the man to stop. The man pulled the bag in front of him. “And disappeared,” said the soldier. I asked if his ears were okay, and the soldier said they were fine. It was amazing that he didn’t get fragged. A soldier fur-ther back in the file got fragged in the hand, but luckily the injury was minor. They told me they brought the bomber’s leg back to the FOB. Usually the dogs get what’s left of the suicide bombers, and the bombs in Iraq seemed to be like a dinner bell for stray dogs. The soldier who told the man to stop said the man looked confused just prior to exploding. Was he doped up on some opium derivative? This happened frequently in Iraq, as car bombers drove erratically before detonating (sometimes with their hands duct-taped or handcuffed to the steering wheel) or vest-bombers appeared disori-
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ented or stoned, blowing up without en-gaging a target.
Reporting the deaths of three Brit-ish soldiers in June, the Independent newspaper called suicide bombing “a terrifying new phenomenon in this conflict.” The suicide attacks are hardly new. The first two suicide attacks that I was close to in Afghanistan happened in April 2006 at the Provincial Recon-struction Team in Lashkar Gah. Those were the first two in Lashkar Gah, but that was more than two years ago.
The Independent reported that “troops serving in Helmand had a one-in-36 chance of not surviving a six-month tour of duty. During the Korean War, the death rate stood at one in 58. In Vietnam, it was one in 46; during the Falklands War it was one in 45.”
We cannot win a war of attrition in Afghanistan.
Furthermore, the war is not just in Afghanistan, and should more appro-priately be called the AfPak war. Al Qaeda got monkey-stomped in Iraq, and their center of gravity is now back with its central leadership in the law-less Federally Administered Tribal Ar-eas (FATA) over the border in Pakistan. Insurgencies often rely on porous bor-ders in lawless or friendly lands to sup-port their efforts and give them safe haven when things get too hot in their target country. While many people ar-gued that Iran was to blame for much of our problems in Iraq, that cross-bor-der threat was vastly exaggerated. Yes, the Iranians supplied Explosively Formed Projectiles (EFPs) that killed our troops, and supported and trained
latent hostilities between these two enemies. Both India and Pakistan have nuclear weapons. Just this last Satur-day, two days ago, a massive bomb de-stroyed the Marriot hotel in Islamabad, killing about 40 people.
All this, and much more, adds up to an extremely delicate political and strategic challenge. Of course we need more troops in Afghani-
stan. But along with an increase in troops, we need a coherent strat-egy, one that considers the unique circumstances in both Afghanistan and Pakistan and the larger region. We can win every engagement and still lose the war. That’s why we see continued tactical successes against the Taliban, and high morale among troops like 2 Para who are fighting them every day, while the overall sit-uation grows worse. The soldiers are doing their job.24
some Shiite militia groups. Yet the main threat to Iraq’s stability was internal, and greatly exacerbated by al Qaeda. In Afghanistan, the situation is much worse, and more complicated.
“Although the insurgency has support in and draws strength from elements within the Afghan community, the support of foreign-based networks in providing leadership, planning, training, funding and equipment clearly remains crucial to its viabili-ty.” That’s what the UN Secretary General said on 06
March 2008. Pakistan is key to the immediate future of Afghanistan. Political turmoil in Pakistan has under-mined its already inconsistent and mostly ineffective efforts against the Taliban, who continue to cross the border back and forth. We use that border too. Some 80 percent of the supplies to our troops pass through one of the most dangerous regions of Pakistan.
Meanwhile, let’s not forget India. If Pakistan tips from instability into chaos, it could feel more threat-ened by India than anyone else. The recent bomb-ing of the Indian Embassy in Afghanistan killed more than 40 people, and was apparently an effort to stoke
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In Iraq, the money challenge was to rebuild the econ-omy. In Afghanistan, the economic infrastructure
is largely non-existent. Opium cultivation accounts for a great part of the Gross Domestic Product,
and much of that money goes to the Taliban either through direct profits or tribute. Helmand Province,
where FOB Gibraltar is situated, produces more than half of the opium in Afghanistan. According to some
reports, the Taliban is present in all thirteen districts of Helmand Province, and controls six of them.
Back in 2003, General David Petraeus realized that the Iraq War was as much about politics and money than anything else. After he took command in early 2007, we saw victory in Iraq. (General Petraeus will not declare victory in Iraq, but I will do it for him.) General Petraeus also realizes that the AfPak war will largely be fought in the politosphere. Once General Petraeus has a chance to fully take the reigns at Centcom – which is exactly where America and our allies need him – a wise person will do well to listen closely to what he says.
General Petraeus has ordered a Joint Strategic Assessment Team (JSAT) to evaluate Centcom’s area of responsibility. He did this upon assuming command in Iraq, and that JSAT signifi-cantly contributed to the new strategy that proved successful beyond our wildest dreams. Heading the Centcom effort will be Colonel H.R. McMaster, a brilliant officer whose command of 3rd Ar-mored Cavalry Regiment in Tal Afar in 2005 was seen as a model for counterinsurgency in Iraq. The JSAT will be an opportunity for General Petraeus to develop a new strategy for AfPak, while not ignoring our re-sponsibilities in Iraq, and elsewhere.
One of General Petraeus’ first challenges in AfPak will be organiza-tional, creating at least unity of ac-tion, if not unity of command (which at this point is beyond his power), in order to better coordinate the stra-tegic efforts of the different forces engaged in Afghanistan. More than forty nations are here to “fight” the Taliban in Afghanistan. While Cent-com only controls the American contingent, General Petraeus’ political and diplomatic skills will be needed in order to keep the alliance together and make it more effective. His experi-ence in mentoring the Iraqi Security Forces also should prove valuable in fielding a stronger Afghan counterpart.
In Iraq, the money challenge was to rebuild the economy. In Afghanistan, the economic infrastructure is largely non-exis-tent. Opium cultivation accounts for a great part of the Gross Domestic Product, and much of that money goes to the Taliban either through direct profits or tribute. Helmand Province, where FOB Gibraltar is situated, produces more than half of the opium in Afghanistan. According to some reports, the Taliban is present in all thirteen districts of Helmand Prov-ince, and controls six of them. In areas like Helmand where
opium production is on the rise, security becomes much more precarious. During 2007 and the first few months of 2008, Helmand saw more direct fire, indirect fire and IEDs than any other province. There is a direct correlation between opium cultivation and security risk. Yet if we de-stroyed the opium crops, we would only be turning the lo-cals into enemies.
We have been successful in killing many Taliban, and even taking out some of their leaders, yet the insurgen-cy is splitting off into a distributed network that is learning how to survive and adapt. While the Taliban used to stage pitched battles which they would invariably lose, now they are fighting asymmetrically, mostly against the Afghan Na-tional Security Forces and civilians as part of a strategy of po-litical attrition seeking to discredit the Afghan government.
This strategy includes terrorist attacks, kidnapping for profit, murdering humanitarian aid workers, and developing crimi-nal enterprises that intimidate the local populace and bring in needed revenue.
The enemy grows stronger with each season. Recently, I drove through a village between Kabul and Jalalabad with two very experienced expats, who pointed out Taliban as we drove through the village. The Taliban were close enough to hit with a rock. We were close enough to
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be hit with a rocket. They were in the open. We were in the open. We were in an unarmored, single vehicle, and so did not draw much attention. About two minutes down the road were Afghan soldiers. Along the road from Kabul to Jalalabad were charred places where, I was told, vehicles had been am-bushed. Every single person I talk with in Helmand, Kandahar, Kabul and Jalalabad -- whether Afghan or expat -- can see that the Taliban are growing stron-ger, and nobody respects the government in Kabul. It’s patently obvious that we are losing this war.
03 Sept 08 A patrol launched from FOB Gibraltar. The ob-
jective was to tempt Terry into a fight, which he gamely accepted. As mentioned in the Death in the Corn: Part I of III, the 2 Para have only a handful of major modes: fight, exercise, clean weapons, eat and sleep. Their gym is slap in the middle of three mortar pits, and one mortar is even set up inside the gym. (Several smaller mortars are not in pits, and were set up after the 81mm mortars started having “hung rounds,” which means the mortar bomb gets stuck in the tube and does not fire.)
In five months, the crews have fired about 2,500 high explosive (HE), white phosphorous (WP) and illumination rounds through their 81mm mor-tars, to devastating effect. It is known that the en-emy has been trying to figure a way to target the mortars seen in the picture below but the reality is that the enemy will likely have to keep suffering the barrages. Taliban in the open are often simply at the mercy of the mortar.
Today, a serious mission was afoot, and the mortar crews were following the progress of the infantry by constantly aiming the mortars at targets that would support the infantry as they advanced. At least one jet was overhead and also a British Apache was on station.
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Some soldiers stop working out long enough to watch a 500lb bomb explode. How many gyms can a man watch a Tali-ban battle between sets of sit-ups?
This was another serious fight, with some close calls for 2 Para sol-diers out there on the ground. At least nine Taliban were almost cer-tainly killed, and another was wound-ed. The locals reported, “Many Tali-ban killed.”
I was taking some notes for this dis-patch when the sniper started early, fir-ing over FOB Gibraltar for the fifth day in a row. He started early, recklessly and foolishly with about 10 shots, between about 1220 and 1225 in the afternoon. He seemed to be begging to get shot, but still nobody could see him.
04 Sept 08 That morning a dicker was watching
a patrol. A British sniper had him in the crosshairs, and the rangefinder put him at 820 meters. The Taliban dicker was behind a wall, and was visible only from mid-bel-ly up. The time was 0715 when a British sniper squeezed the trigger, launching a .338 bullet that arced to the target, striking the dicker in the neck. He fell.
Just over an hour later, another dick-er, this one at about 800 meters, took a British 7.62 bullet in the buttocks. The man was dressed in black. He fell.
Incredibly, both men had survived the snipers. Locals brought the shot men to the British, who treated them as if they were wounded soldiers. Jour-
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nalists are not permitted to photograph or interview captured enemy combatants, but I did ask Major Daw-son if I could observe how they were being treated. Major Dawson obliged immediately. Both men were conscious and lucid. The British soldiers, the doctor and medics, were treating the prisoners diligently and respectfully, and given that my visit was on about 30 seconds’ notice, it was a candid moment.
And so a medevac helicopter was called and took one man away to be treated at the trauma center. A second helicopter came for the Taliban dressed in black. The British are dangerously short on helicop-ters, yet three times I saw the British call helicopters for wounded men, who in each case I thought were either Taliban or at least their allies. I boarded the helicopter with some British soldiers and the Taliban prisoner, and we roared out of FOB Gibraltar.
The story of 2 Para and 3 Para will never be ful-ly told. But it’s obvious that they did their duties as soldiers, in so many missions that I was briefed on but have not described here, such as helping deliver
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the critical turbine to the Kajaki dam. Despite the bad trajectory of the war in general, there have been some stun-ning successes.
The British soldiers will not quit. Despite hardship and loss in Iraq when their own press veritably disowned them, the soldiers kept fighting in Iraq (there really was some serious fighting down there in Basra), and their morale was far higher than the British media would have us believe.
My first month back in Afghanistan leaves mixed impressions. Clearly we are losing and the clock is ticking. But then, we nearly lost Iraq in 2006, yet that war was turned around at the very brink of disaster. Losing doesn’t mean lost. It means try harder and try smarter. Keep slugging and keep thinking.
The British soldiers will not quit. Despite hardship and loss in Iraq when
their own press veritably disowned them, the soldiers kept fighting in Iraq
(there really was some serious fighting down there in Basra), and their morale was far higher than the British media
would have us believe.
Private Jason Lee Rawstron2nd Battalion, The Parachute Regiment12th September 2008
Lieutenant Colonel Joe O’Sullivan, Commanding Officer 2 PARA paid tribute to Private Jason Raw-
stron on the night of his death:
Early this morning C (Bruneval) Company were conducting a patrol from their base at Forward
Operating Base GIBRALTAR when they were engaged by the Taliban, and in the exchange of fire Pri-
vate Jason Rawstron was killed. Jason Rawstron began his service with C (Bruneval) Company 2 PARA,
and although he later moved to the Assault Engineer Platoon, it was to Bruneval Company that he
returned for the Battalion’s tour in Afghanistan. Bruneval is the Parachute Regiment’s first Battle Hon-
our, and Jason Rawstron, like all of his friends in today’s Bruneval Company and across the Battalion,
was every bit the Paratrooper of that first Bruneval Company 66 years ago; tough, resourceful, fear-
less under the fire that he had experienced so often and never knowing defeat. He joins eleven other
members of 2 PARA Battlegroup who have given their lives for their friends and what they have been
asked to do in this part of Helmand. Bruneval Company and all of us in 2 PARA Battlegroup will mourn
Jason Rawstron and our hearts go out to his family and friends at home. We hope that what he was,
and what he and friends and his battalion stand for and have achieved in this most demanding of
summers will in some small way bring them comfort at this most painful time.
Utrinque Paratus
Days after I left FOB Gibraltar, word came that Ja-son Rawstron, a British soldier from 2 Para had been shot in the head and killed.
I took a moment of private silence, and later saw this:
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CRAZYJAYJOHNSONAn AmericanCavalry Trooperand Lifetime Warrior By Andre’ M. Dall’au
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CRAZYJAYJOHNSONAn AmericanCavalry Trooperand Lifetime Warrior By Andre’ M. Dall’au
When gunfire erupts, most people run to get away from the danger as
fast as possible. When operators and warriors hear shots and know that friends are in the line of fire, without hesitation they do what
Sgt. 1st Class Dil-lard (Crazy Jay) Johnson, a pla-toon sergeant
and 19 Delta Scout in C (Crazy Horse) troop, 3rd Squadron of the 7th Calvary (3-7 Cav) did in Iraq.
Troops from 3/7Cav, (back row, L-R) SGT (P) Rodriguez, LT Dejesus, SGT Cochran, SFC Johnson; (front, L-R) SSG (P) Williams, SGT Traylor, SGT Liesbish, SSG Sowby. SFC John-son is holding the M-14 that he will subsequently use to take a Sniper out of circula-tion in Salman Pak. Photo Credit SFC Dillard J. Johnson
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He had been alerted that a competent sniper had taken friendlies under fire at Salmon Pak where he was working with the new Iraqi Public Order Battalions. He ran up several flights of stairs to look for the long distance shooter who had already hit several Iraqis. CJ was an experienced sniper as well as a 7th Cavalry M3A3 Bradley com-mander, named the “Carnivore”, that was the tip of the mechanized spear that cut through Iraq during Operation Iraqi Freedom. Although CJ didn’t yet have eyes on the tal-ented gunman, the bad guy knew exactly where CJ was. It was going to be a head-to-head, almost thousand yard shootout between two experi-enced and seasoned combat marks-men that once engaged meant only one would survive.
The sniper duel started in on De-
cember 20th, 2005, when CJ’s 3rd Squadron, 7th Cavalry, was working with the 3rd Public Order Brigade (POB) of Iraq’s Ministry of Interior
As CJ noted “One of the POB Soldiers came down from the roof of the building (the POB Headquar-ters) and told us they were receiv-ing small arms fire from across the
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SFC Crazy Jay Johnson on his track during Iraqi Freedom
Medal of Honor Recipient Sergeant First Class Sammy Davis and Sergeant First Class Dillard.
CJ was an experienced sniper as well as a 7th Cavalry M3A3 Bradley
commander, named the “Carnivore”, that was the
tip of the mechanized spear that cut through
Iraq during Operation Iraqi Freedom. Although CJ didn’t yet have eyes
on the talented gunman, the bad guy knew exact-ly where CJ was. It was
going to be a head-to-head, almost thousand yard shootout between
two experienced and sea-soned combat marksmen that once engaged meant
only one would survive.
Tigris River, about 800 meters ” said Johnson who immediately deployed his Soldiers and start-ed to locate the shooter. Jay had grabbed a M-14 topped with a Bushnell Elite 4200 telescopic sight before he started up the stairs and told his spotter, Staff Sergeant Jared Kennedy, to fol-low him up with the 36 pound Barrett .50 M107.
But just like every military evolution Mr. Murphy had to put in his two cents and turn a bad situation worse! While CJ was moving to engage the bad guy, one of the inexperienced soldiers in the Public Order Battalions (POBs) was panic firing his AK in the general direction of the snip-er and hit Jay in his back body ar-mor. Crazy Jay impulsively grabbed the unfortunate Iraqi, tossed his AK-47 off the roof and the neg-ligent shooter down a stairwell almost hitting Kennedy who was just arriving with the big Barrett. With a sore back and another war wound that he still feels, Crazy Jay got behind the scope on his M-14. After taking aimed fire with some rounds landing as close as six inch-es away, Johnson finally observed two terrorists in the prone position hiding in a gully next to a paved road across the Tigris River. Johnson went on “I used my laser rangefinder to give me the distance to the enemy location, it was 852 meters exactly, a long shot,” he said. He realized it was better to get rounds on target quickly to stop the guy than wait and watch more guys go down. Jay knew that he would be shooting at the very maxi-mum performance of his match grade Hornady 7.62mm ammo, but it would have to do to stop this terrorist snip-er because CJ would not let him get away to shoot another day.
CJ said “my first round fell short but it must have scared him because he stood up to get away. The next round I fired, hit him and he went down,” At that point the other enemy shooter stood up and SSG Kennedy took out the insurgent spotter with his Barrett. CJ found out later that the Islamic terrorist sniper was equipped with a Roma-nian PSL which was the same as a Dragunov (SVD) with commercial German optics that the shooter used for dozens of first shot kills in-cluding 13 Americans, and the head shed had wanted him in a body bag for months. While CJ didn’t count all the bad guys he shot as a sniper but he does remember the number of guns he collected off their bodies and that came to 121 rifles.
After growing up in Kentucky and learning how to fish and hunt around the Green River area, Crazy Jay joined the Army spending most of his career as a 19 Delta Scout in the famous and highly respected “Rock of the Marne” 3rd Infantry Division (Mechanized.) His established shooting skills made it easy for him to excel as a unit-trained scout sniper. By the time he went to war during Operation Iraqi Freedom he was a platoon sergeant for the C (Crazy Horse) troop, 3rd Squadron of the 7th Calvary (3-7 Cav). He retired from the Army after over twen-ty years of service, continuing to work as a security contractor on the very same terrain before leaving to start his own train-ing facility near Daytona Beach, Florida. That facility hosts the “Big 3 East” gathering of media
SFC Johnson being awarded one of his four Purple Heart Medals during a ceremony at his Squadron’s headquarters at Ft. Stewart.
Photo Credit – SFC Dillard J Johnson
CJ’s kit as he used everyday in Baghdad where he was part of a quick reaction force that protected and saved lives. – Photo by
Dillard Johnson
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and manufacturers such as SCCY, IWI, Geissle, Faxon, Hunter Town Arms, DDI, TS Arms, Van Quest, HI-LUX, MGI, RS Rails, Savvy Snip-er, FOSTECH, ATS Gear, TAC Grip, Alexander Arms, Action Targets, Wolf Ammo, Optics and Arms, OTIS Cleaning kits, DPMS, AAC Silencers, Spikes Tactical, Barnes Bullets, Tacti-cal Walls and TAC ( Tennessee Arms Company, LLC is a manufacturer of hybrid Nylon 6-6/Brass AR style receivers, parts kits.) Over sever-
al days writers, videographers and photographers get to work one-on-one with the makers of some of the best gear around and then trying them out at the on-site ranges.
Being a Cavalry Trooper in Iraq was similar to the ones Americans watched in western movie classic “She Wore a Yellow Ribbon.” The modern “dirty shirt blue” troop-ers still earn their Stetson hats and spurs doing the tough jobs just like
their horse cavalry brothers who also fought in unglamor-ous campaigns, lived with their steeds and were in the thick of the action for weeks at a time. After Oper-ation Iraqi Freedom was well underway, CJ saw that his legs were horribly swollen and only then did he realize he had been standing in his track conducting combat operations for five days straight. He was awarded his Silver Star for an action where his Bradley was cut off and sur-rounded by a numer-ically superior and well-armed force. At one point the ene-my troops were so many, so close and all around CJ noted “I just pressed the trig-ger on my co-ax ma-chine gun (the M240 .30 caliber machine gun mounted next to the cannon in the turret) and traversed the turret in full 360
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Some of us at the Ross Hammock Ranch range during a Big Three event. Standing left to right: Crazy Jay Johnson, Bill Alexander, Dave Fortier, CJ’s son Daniel, Bruce
Walker. Kneeling in front Andre’ M. Dall’au. Photo Credit - Andre’ M. Dall’au.
Crazy Jay in the unarmored rubber boat he used to make an opposed crossing and landing on a island in the Tigris River - Photo Credit – Dillard J. Johnson
NUM
BERS
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NUM
BERS
$650 BILLION
$6.5 BILLION
$102 BILLION
$717 BILLION
$818 BILLION
$1.645 TRILLION
Homeland Security Since 9/11Every hour, taxpayers in the United States are pay-ing $6.74 million for Homeland Security Since 9/11.
Cost of Military Action Against ISISEvery hour, taxpayers in the United States are paying $615,482 for Cost of Military Action Against ISIS.
Cost of Pentagon Slush FundEvery hour, taxpayers in the United States are pay-ing $3.42 million for Cost of Pentagon Slush Fund.
Cost of War in AfghanistanEvery hour, taxpayers in the United States are paying $4 million for Cost of War in Afghanistan.
Cost of War in IraqEvery hour, taxpayers in the United States are paying $117,035 for Cost of War in Iraq.
Total Cost of Wars Since 2001Every hour, taxpayers in the United States are pay-ing $8.36 million for Total Cost of Wars Since 2001.
NUMBERSA GLOBAL VIEWPOINT
https://www.nationalpriorities.org
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degree sweep!” They were being bombarded with indi-rect fire and CJ had to use a multi-tool to make a tempo-rary antenna repair to call in counter-fire to silence the mortars raining down. All their weapons were either out of ammo or destroyed so CJ dismounted and engaged dozens of enemy infantry with bad guy guns lying on the
ground around his Bradley until the area was covered with dead combatants. He had been shot twice and burned his hand on a hot RPD machine gun barrel but his crew was safe. During a TV interview discussing the firefight, Dillard’s Squadron CO kept re-ferring to Johnson’s battle roster ID which was his troop name followed by the first ini-tial of his last name which was “Crazy J.” The call sign stuck to give a nickname as he said “was a pretty good one and it was a pretty good way to get one.”
Another time while on a night-time snip-er mission to take out insurgents placing IED’s, CJ and his spotter were unexpectedly illumi-nated in the glare of dozens of lights around their hide in an industrial area. With their position exposed and night vision equipment useless, their options seemed fatally limit-ed. CJ saw that interrupting the electricity to the lights was their only option, so he took his insulated Gerber LMF and lots of balls, and severed the 220v electrified cable. That caused a bright arc that temporarily blinding him and melted part of the blade but threw the area back into darkness. With Bradleys on the way for extraction, CJ and his spotter got back on their weapons and re-engaged the superior enemy forces scattering like cock-roaches from just two American snipers. Al-though the insurgents had superior numbers and overwhelming advantage, they broke off their assault and hid or fled. When the Cavalry arrived, CJ calmly walked over to the dropped ramp of a Crazyhorse Bradley and shouted to
the remaining terrorists now cowering in the darkness that he would be back and he would get the rest of them.
Other combat op-erations and strange things that happened during the war include when CJ conducted an opposed river assault on an island in the Ti-gris with the 318th Engineers, or when the Carnivore was in a “cow imitated ambush” when a trooper in a Abrams tank shot his .50 BMG M2 at a cow that tripped an ambush that lasted for hours, or when CJ had his entire
SFC Johnson showing the pitted blade of his Gerber LMF 2 used to cut energized 220v pow-
er cables. Photo Credit – Andre’ M. Dall’au
Crazy Jay’s kill record on the side of the worn and beat-up Bradley “Carni-vore” included eight tanks, seven anti-aircraft or rocket launching vehicles and two aircraft. The skeletonized head is C Troop 3rd Squadron, 7th Cav’s Crazy Horse Troop’s insignia “Nowatay” that ended up all over Iraq like the
WWII “Kilroy was here” graffiti. Photo Credit SFC Dillard J. Johnson
platoon shoot their elevated M4 rifles in mass “volley fire” to neutralize hostiles over 1,000 yards away! Crazy Jay knows what it is like to shoot in combat, get shot at and missed but also get shot at and hit. He experienced as many as eight IEDs explosions in one day, get-ting knocked back six feet by his own 40mm grenade when he took out an insurgent with a 10 foot M203 snapshot as well as taking close shots from his wingman’s M1A1 tank cannon. He had his Bradley turret traversing mecha-nism jammed with a sabot from 1SG Anthony Broadhead’s (who has a Silver Star of his own) 120mm tank cannon meaning that the hyper-sonic depleted Uranium penetrator (basically a tank-killing flechette) was fired just inches away from CJ’s Bradley! CJ ended up spend-
ing two full tours in Iraq as a cavalry trooper and was the recipient not only a Silver Star but a Bronze Star, a Joint Service Army Com-mendation Medal for his actions in support of Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC) as well as four purple hearts.
Soft spoken and humble, CJ and his 3-7 Cavalry buddies are the modern day version of one of their 3rd ID alumni, Audie Murphy, the most decorated GI in WWII. Now at his Big Three training facility with a 700 yard long dis-tance range, CJ hosts civilian, law enforcement and military organizations with the same fo-cus he used to live through some of the most intense and hostile combat environments that soldiers have ever seen. In an industry
with plenty of options for seasoned trainers CJ provides both outstanding instruction and useful curricula because of his tremendous experience with the first-hand knowledge of kinetic problem-solving. He has won in firefights using 9mm, 5.56mm, 7.62x51mm, 7.62x39mm, 7.62x54R, .303, .and 25mm weapons and spent more time “outside the wire” as a cavalry trooper than most other professional warriors and survived. While some people have to make a shoot/don’t shoot decision against an armed opponent once or maybe twice in a lifetime, CJ did it thousands of times and now is passing that experience along to save others’ lives which is what true warriors live to do.
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In November of 1990, soldiers of the 3rd Infantry Division were called into action following Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait. As part of the Allied Coalition during Operation Desert Storm the 3rd ID was with 1st Ar-mored Division that performed a monumental end run around Iraqi fixed defenses which defeated Saddam Hussein’s strategy and cut off his army. The subsequent fighting was stopped when the world view-ing the carnage of the destroyed Iraqi army felt compassion for the vanquished and allowed many of the Iraqis that looted and raped Kuwait City to return home and allowed Saddam’s regime to continue to rule Iraq.
Instead Saddam mistook the tolerance and sympathy shown by his Muslim neigh-bors as empowerment, while completely forgetting about his failure in Kuwait that re-sulted in the deaths of many of his countrymen under his command, Saddam expanded his aggressive plans for the region. After our National Command Authority determined that Saddam continued to be a clear danger to America and her interests, the 3rd de-ployed once again to the region to prepare for war.
After months of acclimation and training, on March 20, 2003, the 3rd Infantry Di-vision (mechanized) crossed the border from Kuwait to Iraq, beginning Operation Iraqi Freedom. The 20,000 soldiers conducted combat operations resulting in the most im-pressive and successful campaign in the history of the United States Army. Third Infantry division made the much-publicized “Thunder Runs” into downtown Baghdad that effec-tively ended organized resistance by the Iraqi Army.
After direct combat was concluded, soldiers from 3rd Inf. Div. shifted focus to sup-port and stabilization operations in an effort to rebuild the war-ravaged country. The Soldiers conducted foot and mounted patrols in every sector of Baghdad maintaining the peace. The division returned to the United States in August, 2003.
In January 2005, the Third Infantry Division became the first Army Division to serve a second tour in Iraq. During their tours, the GIs from the 3rd ID served with honor and distinction and maintained the traditions started in WWI as “Rock of the Marne.”
The 3rd ID was the first Army division to serve three tours in Iraq that turned into a common practice as the U.S. military was reduced.
3rd Infantry Division (Mechanized)
“Rock Of The Marne!”
Unlike some accounts of combat that are just a series of unconnected vignettes, “Carnivore” is a story that makes the reader experience the complex, fast-moving and terrifying effects of modern, mechanized war. CJ and James Tarr takes the reader deep inside both the great mo-ments and the fog of war where if the enemy or friendly fire doesn’t kill you, Mr. Murphy’s input provides for unexpected outcomes that are interesting, serious, tragic and sometimes funny. CJ doesn’t forget to mention some of the errors he made like when he damn near drove into a canal and high-centered his Bradley on an embankment under fire. He had to call his wingman, 1SG Broadhead’s Abrams tank to drive over and help CJ rig a tow. Both CJ and Broadhead were in the open with bullets and RPG’s flying past, dragging cables and manipulating steel shackles to hitch up the Carnivore and drag his crew to safety.
When it was done CJ and Broadhead found several holes through their pants and sleeves that somehow and luckily missed everything else. Also discussed what was when he and his crew detonated what was probably the largest tactical demo job in history when CJ, following what was a standing order to destroy enemy ordnance and materials, detonated fifteen hundred 2,000 pound Iraqi Air Force bombs (equating to three million pounds of high explosive) in an explosion that surprised even him and scared his fellow troopers. The allied command was unsure if a nuke had exploded so they sent helicopters into the resultant mile-high mushroom cloud with radiation counters! There was a discussion later at the Battalion level that included the words; “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING….?”
The book also discusses the performance of many weapons based on real use in real combat not an extrapolation based on range work, training or testing but information learned when people are doing their best to kill you are trying equally hard to kill them right back. It is a fascinating and well-written read filled with humor, facts and insight greater or equal than any other accounts of the Iraq war.
“Carnivore”by Dillard “Crazy Jay” Johnson
and James TarrA review of the true to life book
of one of America’s greatest warriors
Journal of Counterterrorism & Homeland Security International Vol. 20, No.4
IACSP_MAGAZINE_V20N4.indd 50 11/11/2014 3:43:00 PM
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