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The Sound of the Ground War (Andrew Borene) |
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Andrew Borene was an intelligence officer with the 1st Marine Division, I Marine Expeditionary Force from October 2002 to August 2004. He served in Iraq during major combat operations from February to May 2004. This is a journal entry he wrote on the road into Baghdad.
April 5, 2003 
"The sound of the ground war is the low idle of diesel engines
Slowly clicking and clanking chains on the rear gate of a seven ton truck
Occasional machine gun chatter from in front and behind
Sporadic thumps and whumps of distant artillery
The uneasy creaking of worn and dusty brakes"
I saw a lot of death today... Cows, sheep, Iraqis, Marines. I wonder if it will bother me later. Right now I just wish I felt something.
Our convoy stick took some fire this morning. Fortunately there was a platoon from 3rd Battalion, 7th Marines camped alongside the highway between us and the source of the shots.
I watched as a squad from the infantry company pushed out on line, along the western edge of Route 6. About a dozen Marines were moving in pairs by bounds across an open field into the grazing enemy small arms fire.
Another section of Marines on the opposite side of the highway had simultaneously begun setting up 60mm mortar tubes. I heard the unmistakable and reassuring "whump" of outgoing rounds, and waited to hear the impacts. After a few seconds that felt like hours, the lobbed projectiles reached the deck with a series of crunching noises in the trees behind a line of small mud buildings. No sooner had the first rounds hit the deck than another batch of hot steel was served up for our harassers. After the second round of mortars, one of the grunts screamed across the road to hold the mortars. It was evident that the line of bounding Marines was getting close to the source of the fires and "danger close" to these indirect fires.
The line of Marines began working their 5.56mm Squad Automatic Weapons into the fight before the last mortar rounds hit the deck. This was true combined arms. I forgot all my fear as I marveled at the artistry with which this Lieutenant was employing his Marines. It was hopeless for the enemy. It occurred to me that in the moments since we had received a smattering of small arms fire, the only violence I had seen was an unrelenting storm of steel and movement toward the source of the shots. I could hardly believe the agility and speed with which these men could collectively respond. Nothing in the vicinity of the source of the shots could have survived intact.
The mortars would have rendered an egress away from the highway unlikely if not impossible for the enemy, fixing his position. The Marines carefully working the SAWs ensured continued dominance of firepower and suppression of any further aimed shots. Aside from a last minute, suicide move by a Jihadi, it appeared that this situation was going to be wound up with no Marine casualties.
As the Marines cleared the treeline, sporadic M16 fire could be heard. The signal of an arm circling overhead was passed between the vehicles in our convoy and we mounted up. We pulled away from the "kill zone" without so much as a scratch or a popped tire. As I looked out at the horizon, I understood exactly what "putting the enemy on the horns of a dilemma" meant and reminded myself that I would not forget these men called grunts who had so efficiently ensured the nearly uninterrupted movement of my people another day closer to Baghdad.
KILLING WAS EASY... LIVING WAS HARD
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