11 November: Mewborn, Crank It Up.
It was 1900 and it was dark. We were supposed to push south of the industrial zone at 1400 but the Marines still weren't on line with us. Everybody cracked some more IR chemlights and placed them on their antennas.
SGT P had come up with a clever chemlight holder. He took a .50cal link and taped it to the antenna. Since one loop of the link was fatter than the other, we could slip fresh chemlights in and out without having to mess with the tape anymore. Just an AAR tip.
We pushed off and started moving south. It wasn’t long before the road turned due south. At this point, Avenger popped out from our front right and cut right in front of us.
“Phantom 6, Red 6. Avenger just pulled in front of us. I have no clearance of fires.”
“Red 6, Phantom 6, roger. If they want to go ahead of us, let ‘em. Break. All Phantom elements, hold your positions here.”
This was the moment when all of my respect for the BRT solidified. Up until this moment, I had the same impression of the BRT that everyone else back in the brigade did. That these guys were cocky, reckless sons of bitches who destroyed everything they got their hands on. Back in Baqubah, they developed a notorious reputation. People thought they were rash and hard-handed. It seemed like they drove fast and shot up everything they saw. SASO wasn’t what the BRT was best used for. They were best used in HIC situations and that’s exactly what we were in now.
But for the first time, I was seeing a self-controlled, tactically patient unit that operated with lethal precision. I looked at the terrain of the city on my map. What was happening was that the north half of the city had finally funneled down and there just wasn’t enough space for all of these maneuver units. The north half of the city had been wide enough to support an armored company, a mechanized company, and a hunter/killer troop. But now we were bottlenecking. Avenger was forced to cross into our lane. As much as I felt like the sector was mine, Phantom 6 was right. What’s the point of butting heads? If they want to run with it, let them.
My crew and SSG Terry’s crew discussed all of this on our platoon net. We were all impressed with CPT Mayfield’s chill attitude.
“Sir, can I put my IR lenses in?” Mewborn asked from the driver’s hole.
“No. You don’t need ‘em. I’ll just tell you where to turn,” I replied. The blackness was not making it easy on Mewborn. With no moon out, he was pretty much blind in the hole. I was standing out of the hatch with my PVS-14 glued to my eyeball. All I had to do was tell him where to turn and when to go and stop. He wanted to put an IR lens on our one headlight. The light produced when IR lenses are in is invisible to the naked eye, but if you’re using a driver’s night sight in conjunction, it’s as bright as a headlight. But tanks aren’t as fortunate as Bradleys, humvees, or even M113s. Brads and M113s have white light and IR lights in separate lamps. They can switch easily between the two. Humvees have blackout drive markers and blackout lights. But with tanks, you have to get on the ground, use a screwdriver, take out the clear lenses and put in IR lenses. We used to put our IR lenses in on night tank missions when we first got to Iraq. But we learned a few things. 1) Driving in blackout with a tank just leads to head-on collisions with civilians and their deaths. 2) On tank patrols, we are not trying to sneak up on the enemy. And finally, there was this one night on Ambush Alley, SSG Terry and I needed white light to illuminate a side street immediately. With our IR lenses in, we were up shit creek without a paddle. No white light available. A lesson learned was that we would always keep our clear lenses in and let the tank commanders guide the drivers if need be.
It was annoying for Mewborn. He had no problems having to drive blind; it just sucked to be blind. But I also knew one thing. Mewborn was the best driver I’ve ever seen...
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>.
It was April 15th and we were doing a routine patrol in our humvees. Our mission was to disrupt enemy activity. That just meant be out in sector late in the night and stop, look and listen. We would drive around the back roads in black out drive. Every now and then we would stop for about a litte while, kill our engines and get out and look around. This was an LP/OP. Listening Post/Observation Post. We were hoping to catch some bad guys out in the palm groves setting up a mortar tube. Don’t misinterpret this stuff. Catching bad guys is not an every day thing. It’s about 95% luck to be at the right place at the right time. But like our battalion commander says. It’s best to be good AND lucky.
There was this one route that had more enemy activity than normal. Our engineer platoon got shot at with small arms and RPGs almost every time they drove around there. There was a road that had a thick palm grove along one side.
“Red, this is Red 6. Let’s do one more pass down RTE Bear and head back.”
It was 2245 and our patrol time was coming up. I figured one more LP/OP and we could turn in. We turned off of the MSR and headed down the route.
”15 minutes and then we pack it up.”
At 2300, we mounted up in our humvees and started moving north on the route. I was in the lead, with SSG Terry right behind me. SFC Kennedy, my platoon sergeant was in the last and fourth humvee. As we moved north, we saw two sets of headlights coming our direction.
We were in farm country Strange for people to be driving around at this hour. It’s pretty late out.
“Ah Jesus. I can’t see.” Mewborn said. His PVS 7s were washed out from the headlights. So were my 14s.
“Go white light, Mew.” On normal patrols, if we’re not trying to be covert, we flip the headlights on before on-coming traffic washes us out.
Mewborn turned his headlights on, as we were about 500 meters away from the first car.
That’s when they shit their pants.
The first car screeched off to the shoulder and slammed on his brakes. The second car was another 500 meters away. He slammed on his brakes and turned his headlights off.
“OH SHIT. Something is going on.” The second car started backing up and turning. He started a three-point turn. He was trying to get the hell out of dodge.
“GO GO GO, MEWBORN!” I hollered.
”Red 7, Red 6. Your section take this first car, my section will take the second car.”?
“This is Red 7, roger.”
“Mewborn. FUCKING GO.”
He punched the gas and the truck roared. Up-armoreds were heavy. About 6,500lbs heavy. But they don’t come without some junk in the trunk. Unlike an M998, the M1114s have a pretty sweet tuned turbocharged diesel engine. The truck hurtled its weight forward but we weren’t closing the gap. Our acceleration was no match for that light vehicle in front of us. He drew further away until he reached the MSR. He hooked a left at the intersection and headed for the city.
“Avenger X-Ray. This is Red 6. We are on RTE Bear, moving north in pursuit of two vehicles trying to evade us.”
“WOOooh!”
“Yeah baby!”
“Let’s get this motherfucker!”
We were now going 70 miles per hour and approaching the T-junction. And screaming our heads off with adrenaline. On the other side of the T was a canal. These humvees were notorious for rolling over because they were so heavy. If we didn’t make the turn, we would be in for a swim. Mewborn approached the intersection and cut hard left before the turn. The truck skidded sideways and went into a power slide. We were facing west but the truck was moving north. I looked out my passenger window as the black canal and desert began to swallow us.
Silence. Nobody screamed, nobody breathed. Even the engine was quiet while Mewborn worked the brake. The tires didn’t squeal. They just made a scraping noise like when you drag a duffel bag across the asphalt.
The truck was now on the MSR facing west but still moving north. Mewborn stomped on the accelerator and the tires bit the blacktop. The engine screamed again and the truck catapulted forward.
“FUCKING SHIT!”
“YEAH!”
“GO BABY!” I screamed. I punched the air and flailed around in my seat like a hyperactive child.
The bad guy must have gotten hung up on the turn because now we closed the distance.
“Should I shoot him?” SGT P asked.
“Yeah shoot his fucking car.” I screamed.
SGT P stood up in the hatch, waist high. “WAIT!!” I hollered. “Not with the .50cal. Use your M16.” I thought about the Iraqi Army soldiers who were guarding a checkpoint up ahead. Plus we were now in the city limits and there were houses everywhere.
SGT P took aim with his rifle. With no hands to brace himself, he was being hurled around in the hatch as we chased the car. Imagine standing up in a racing vehicle with no brace and your hips slamming into the rim of the metal hatch in the roof.
POP.POP
Two shots. One in the rear left quarter panel. One in the rear left corner window. The car skidded left and lost control. He skidded into a shallow irrigation ditch. We pulled up to him as he climbed out of his car.
“GET ON THE FUCKING GROUND NOW. MOVE AND I’LL BLOW YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF.”
What the hell was going on? Mewborn was already out of the car, 9 millimeter locked and loaded. He was standing with one foot on the bad guy’s neck and the barrel of his pistol on the guy’s temple. Damn. That was fast.
I got out with Langford as SSG Terry and his crew pulled security.
We ended up snagging a pretty sweet catch that night based on the evidence PFC Langford pulled out of his car. The whole event was like a scene out of COPS. We had been in country for about a month by this point. Since I knew we could tank our asses off, I figured now we got this humvee thing down cold too.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Avenger roared to life and pulled away from us, farther into the southern half of Fallujah. The task force was moving into the thick residential neighborhood. It was time to follow behind them. Resistance was supposed to be its highest here.
“Mewborn! Crank it up!”
SGT P had come up with a clever chemlight holder. He took a .50cal link and taped it to the antenna. Since one loop of the link was fatter than the other, we could slip fresh chemlights in and out without having to mess with the tape anymore. Just an AAR tip.
We pushed off and started moving south. It wasn’t long before the road turned due south. At this point, Avenger popped out from our front right and cut right in front of us.
“Phantom 6, Red 6. Avenger just pulled in front of us. I have no clearance of fires.”
“Red 6, Phantom 6, roger. If they want to go ahead of us, let ‘em. Break. All Phantom elements, hold your positions here.”
This was the moment when all of my respect for the BRT solidified. Up until this moment, I had the same impression of the BRT that everyone else back in the brigade did. That these guys were cocky, reckless sons of bitches who destroyed everything they got their hands on. Back in Baqubah, they developed a notorious reputation. People thought they were rash and hard-handed. It seemed like they drove fast and shot up everything they saw. SASO wasn’t what the BRT was best used for. They were best used in HIC situations and that’s exactly what we were in now.
But for the first time, I was seeing a self-controlled, tactically patient unit that operated with lethal precision. I looked at the terrain of the city on my map. What was happening was that the north half of the city had finally funneled down and there just wasn’t enough space for all of these maneuver units. The north half of the city had been wide enough to support an armored company, a mechanized company, and a hunter/killer troop. But now we were bottlenecking. Avenger was forced to cross into our lane. As much as I felt like the sector was mine, Phantom 6 was right. What’s the point of butting heads? If they want to run with it, let them.
My crew and SSG Terry’s crew discussed all of this on our platoon net. We were all impressed with CPT Mayfield’s chill attitude.
“Sir, can I put my IR lenses in?” Mewborn asked from the driver’s hole.
“No. You don’t need ‘em. I’ll just tell you where to turn,” I replied. The blackness was not making it easy on Mewborn. With no moon out, he was pretty much blind in the hole. I was standing out of the hatch with my PVS-14 glued to my eyeball. All I had to do was tell him where to turn and when to go and stop. He wanted to put an IR lens on our one headlight. The light produced when IR lenses are in is invisible to the naked eye, but if you’re using a driver’s night sight in conjunction, it’s as bright as a headlight. But tanks aren’t as fortunate as Bradleys, humvees, or even M113s. Brads and M113s have white light and IR lights in separate lamps. They can switch easily between the two. Humvees have blackout drive markers and blackout lights. But with tanks, you have to get on the ground, use a screwdriver, take out the clear lenses and put in IR lenses. We used to put our IR lenses in on night tank missions when we first got to Iraq. But we learned a few things. 1) Driving in blackout with a tank just leads to head-on collisions with civilians and their deaths. 2) On tank patrols, we are not trying to sneak up on the enemy. And finally, there was this one night on Ambush Alley, SSG Terry and I needed white light to illuminate a side street immediately. With our IR lenses in, we were up shit creek without a paddle. No white light available. A lesson learned was that we would always keep our clear lenses in and let the tank commanders guide the drivers if need be.
It was annoying for Mewborn. He had no problems having to drive blind; it just sucked to be blind. But I also knew one thing. Mewborn was the best driver I’ve ever seen...
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>.
It was April 15th and we were doing a routine patrol in our humvees. Our mission was to disrupt enemy activity. That just meant be out in sector late in the night and stop, look and listen. We would drive around the back roads in black out drive. Every now and then we would stop for about a litte while, kill our engines and get out and look around. This was an LP/OP. Listening Post/Observation Post. We were hoping to catch some bad guys out in the palm groves setting up a mortar tube. Don’t misinterpret this stuff. Catching bad guys is not an every day thing. It’s about 95% luck to be at the right place at the right time. But like our battalion commander says. It’s best to be good AND lucky.
There was this one route that had more enemy activity than normal. Our engineer platoon got shot at with small arms and RPGs almost every time they drove around there. There was a road that had a thick palm grove along one side.
“Red, this is Red 6. Let’s do one more pass down RTE Bear and head back.”
It was 2245 and our patrol time was coming up. I figured one more LP/OP and we could turn in. We turned off of the MSR and headed down the route.
”15 minutes and then we pack it up.”
At 2300, we mounted up in our humvees and started moving north on the route. I was in the lead, with SSG Terry right behind me. SFC Kennedy, my platoon sergeant was in the last and fourth humvee. As we moved north, we saw two sets of headlights coming our direction.
We were in farm country Strange for people to be driving around at this hour. It’s pretty late out.
“Ah Jesus. I can’t see.” Mewborn said. His PVS 7s were washed out from the headlights. So were my 14s.
“Go white light, Mew.” On normal patrols, if we’re not trying to be covert, we flip the headlights on before on-coming traffic washes us out.
Mewborn turned his headlights on, as we were about 500 meters away from the first car.
That’s when they shit their pants.
The first car screeched off to the shoulder and slammed on his brakes. The second car was another 500 meters away. He slammed on his brakes and turned his headlights off.
“OH SHIT. Something is going on.” The second car started backing up and turning. He started a three-point turn. He was trying to get the hell out of dodge.
“GO GO GO, MEWBORN!” I hollered.
”Red 7, Red 6. Your section take this first car, my section will take the second car.”?
“This is Red 7, roger.”
“Mewborn. FUCKING GO.”
He punched the gas and the truck roared. Up-armoreds were heavy. About 6,500lbs heavy. But they don’t come without some junk in the trunk. Unlike an M998, the M1114s have a pretty sweet tuned turbocharged diesel engine. The truck hurtled its weight forward but we weren’t closing the gap. Our acceleration was no match for that light vehicle in front of us. He drew further away until he reached the MSR. He hooked a left at the intersection and headed for the city.
“Avenger X-Ray. This is Red 6. We are on RTE Bear, moving north in pursuit of two vehicles trying to evade us.”
“WOOooh!”
“Yeah baby!”
“Let’s get this motherfucker!”
We were now going 70 miles per hour and approaching the T-junction. And screaming our heads off with adrenaline. On the other side of the T was a canal. These humvees were notorious for rolling over because they were so heavy. If we didn’t make the turn, we would be in for a swim. Mewborn approached the intersection and cut hard left before the turn. The truck skidded sideways and went into a power slide. We were facing west but the truck was moving north. I looked out my passenger window as the black canal and desert began to swallow us.
Silence. Nobody screamed, nobody breathed. Even the engine was quiet while Mewborn worked the brake. The tires didn’t squeal. They just made a scraping noise like when you drag a duffel bag across the asphalt.
The truck was now on the MSR facing west but still moving north. Mewborn stomped on the accelerator and the tires bit the blacktop. The engine screamed again and the truck catapulted forward.
“FUCKING SHIT!”
“YEAH!”
“GO BABY!” I screamed. I punched the air and flailed around in my seat like a hyperactive child.
The bad guy must have gotten hung up on the turn because now we closed the distance.
“Should I shoot him?” SGT P asked.
“Yeah shoot his fucking car.” I screamed.
SGT P stood up in the hatch, waist high. “WAIT!!” I hollered. “Not with the .50cal. Use your M16.” I thought about the Iraqi Army soldiers who were guarding a checkpoint up ahead. Plus we were now in the city limits and there were houses everywhere.
SGT P took aim with his rifle. With no hands to brace himself, he was being hurled around in the hatch as we chased the car. Imagine standing up in a racing vehicle with no brace and your hips slamming into the rim of the metal hatch in the roof.
POP.POP
Two shots. One in the rear left quarter panel. One in the rear left corner window. The car skidded left and lost control. He skidded into a shallow irrigation ditch. We pulled up to him as he climbed out of his car.
“GET ON THE FUCKING GROUND NOW. MOVE AND I’LL BLOW YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF.”
What the hell was going on? Mewborn was already out of the car, 9 millimeter locked and loaded. He was standing with one foot on the bad guy’s neck and the barrel of his pistol on the guy’s temple. Damn. That was fast.
I got out with Langford as SSG Terry and his crew pulled security.
We ended up snagging a pretty sweet catch that night based on the evidence PFC Langford pulled out of his car. The whole event was like a scene out of COPS. We had been in country for about a month by this point. Since I knew we could tank our asses off, I figured now we got this humvee thing down cold too.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Avenger roared to life and pulled away from us, farther into the southern half of Fallujah. The task force was moving into the thick residential neighborhood. It was time to follow behind them. Resistance was supposed to be its highest here.
“Mewborn! Crank it up!”
posted by REDSIX at 12:34 AM
14 Comments:
2 things that break my heart:
1) SSG Terry promised his little 3 year old angel, Josephine, that he would be home for her birthday. So everyday when she wakes up at home now, she asks her mother, "Is it my birthday, today?"
2) Whenever I call my fiancee, I have to cut her off with "Baby, my 30 minutes are up." I had no idea that she is on the other end, repeating to herself, Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it. Someday, I won't have to, Laura. But not anytime soon. Because you'll be saying that to me when you come here. So I guess, "Now the rubberband is on the other claw!" to quote Dr. Zoidberg.
Red6, I'm posting anonymously only because I don't have an account set up yet. I'm a reader in Memphis, TN, and I check your blog, among others, at least once a day. A few thoughts:
1) You guys are badass. Been said plenty, but bears repeating.
2) I don't have any idea what sort of reports you get there about us here, but have no doubt that a) all of you folks are always in our thoughts and prayers, b) we admire the hell out of the sacrifice that all of you are making, and c) we got your back. I'll find a way to leave an email addy; you need anything, say the word.
3) Both to Red6 and any brass who might be in lurk mode checking for content - I understand the need for security, and I have no doubt that Red6 keeps that very much in focus, but for those of us stateside, blogs like this are the only - not just the best - way to really find out what the hell's going on. Please leave him be.
Goodluck, Godspeed, and good hunting.
Joe
OMG! Way to go Mewborn! That has to be one of the best stories I have heard from the war. I can just see him there with his foot on that guy's neck - Too damn funny!
Stay safe guys!
I know this was a Mewborn=Badass/Mario Andretti meets Knight Rider, now I need to know: Did Red7 Catch the other car? What was in it?
SU-WEEEET!
Mewborn, you need to get a Nascar deal- that is frickin' awesome, dude!
Neil-
Your Laura is a lucky girl. I'm sure she knows that, but I had to tell you.
You rock, Dude!!! I love reading your blog!!! Keep writing!
Just wanted to let you know I am keeping y'all in my thoughts & prayers everyday. Keep safe!
Looking forward to the next installment...
Take care,
Theresa
Lawrenceville, GA
Yes Neil, tell us if Red7 caught the other car.
The Army needs to TDY Mewborn and a M1114 to NASCAR for a few months on the race circuit as "Official Pace Car".
Probably need an officer to go along and sign for meals and do bed-check and such. Who could we get?
Cheers... homebru
Hi - I've been reading your blog for a couple of months now (compulsively I might add). Your remarks about SSG Terry's daughter in your comment really got me. I've got a daughter the same age, and I can't imagine how hard it must be for SSG Terry to be away from his. My daughter asked every day for weeks after Christmas if today was Christmas *again*. I've got some idea of how much Josephine must be missing her daddy when she asks if it's her birthday yet.
I have a huge amount of respect for what you guys are doing, and how much you sacrifice for us to do it. Thank you.
Damn Cool!
Just found out about you from story in Post-Standard (Syracuse). Thanks for the peak into what you go through. Two nations owe you big. Please thank your guys for their sacrifice. I pray for you guys every day.
Jamie - Syracuse
I'm reading the rough draft for what's going to be THE book on tankers to come out of this war. You should be talking to publishers the day you get home. And don't sell the screen rights without maintaining some sort of creative control.
In the meantime, stay safe, and keep taking care of your men.
Great blog. I just discovered it. Keep safe and keep winning. Take nothing for granted. Thanks for doing this stuff.
Yarbz
Syracuse University, Class of 1988
www.juggernuts.com
SGT, USMC, 79-83
Very cool!
Could make a great story for a Bruce Willis flick....
But, so much better when it's real life.
Stay safe and keep focused. Bring the troops home, and you too...
Post a Comment
<< Home