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May 31 2010
100 Fewer to Memorialize Because of One
Written by JD Johannes   
Monday, 31 May 2010
In the Spring of 2007 as the Anbar Awaking began to spread downstream through the Euphrates river valley and Soldiers surged into Baghdad, a small outpost of paratroopers was under intermittent siege.

The paratroopers of Blackfoot Company, 1-501st, at OP Omar on the northern edge of Kharmah, Iraq 25-miles west of Baghdad, were fighting the last of the major fire-fights in Iraq.  Every three weeks or so, Al Qaida in Iraq would assault OP Omar.  The attack on March 26th, 2007 was supposed to destroy the outpost--if not for one man they might have succeeded and there would be 100 more white headstones with wreaths and flags on Memorial day.

The main building of OP Omar was a warehouse used for cold or dry storage of grains and vegetables before the war.  The thick concrete walls originally designed to keep cold air in also kept bullets and shrapnel out.  The exterior tan colored stucco has chipped and pocked, but the concrete held.  Like nearly every other building in Iraq, it was surrounded by walls that successive units had reinforced.  Gun towers and fighting positions had been added and improved over the years.

It was not an ideal location, but there is no such thing, it was merely the best among other options to use as a base of operations for 100 or more men.

I arrived at OP Omar at around 2 a.m. on the 26th on a slow-moving convoy of humvees driving by night vision goggles and feel.  The Kharmah road had been notorious for improvised explosive devices for years.  The last time I had been on that road was in 2005 and a humvee four vehicles back from mine had been hit wounding three Marines and taking a leg and arm from an interpreter.

The Humvees of 2007 were much more armored than those of 2005, but the bombs had gotten bigger too.

But Al Qaida was taking the night off and we arrived at OP Omar safe and tired.  The 1st Sergeant showed me my bunk among the paratroopers and I slept in my clothes.

The morning broke cool and clear.  March and April are mild in Iraq.  The blazing furnace does not kick on until early May.  I ate breakfast on patio surrounded by blast barriers and sand bags with a few paratroopers telling them why I was there, how I had been all around the area before and specifically requested to come back to Kharmah.

They thought I was insane.

The Sergeant of the Guard took me around the compound which is was only about the size of a football field with a dozen exposed spots where sniper fire could rain down.  One of the Blackfoot Sharpshooters had engaged in a sniper duel a few weeks before.  The Al Qaida sniper was good, going so far as to use a thermal blanket to disguise his heat signature.  The Blackfoot Sharpshooter was patient waiting for days until a glint of the enemy scope gave away the position.

I was mostly in waiting mode.  A large raid to track down some suspected anti-aircraft missiles would be kicking off soon.  I settled in, getting to know the guys.  In the dust I drew a map of their area of operations, telling them about the crazy things the Marines I was embedded with did in 2005.

They no longer thought I was insane--just suicidal.

The conversation was interrupted by burst of machine gun fire.  Not a few pops from an M-4 crabine or AK, a burst of fire from the heavy M-240 machine gun.

Everyone paused, a space of only a breath.

Then the M-240 opened up again with a long, sustained stream of fire.  A few paratroopers darted inside to the main building.  Then the wind hit.

A gale of hurricane force wind pushed through the compound sending me backwards.  Dust, rocks, dirt and debris biting into skin.  Then the sound, a crack louder than a nearby lightening strike.

The over-pressure from a tanker truck loaded with more than 2,000 pounds of explosives produces a supersonic blastwave with shards of steel larger than a man's hand flying at more than 4,000 feet per second.  If one of those shards hit a man a full velocity, all that would be left him would be his boots.

The echo of the explosion had barely faded when gunfire filled the air.
 
Sergeant Jason Stegall, the paratrooper who fired the machine gun at the tanker truck from the gun tower facing the main entry point, blinked open his eyes.

He was lying his back on the catwalk leading to the tower.  The blast wave had blown him clear out of the tower.  Another paratrooper leapt over him and started firing out out the gun port.  Stegall gathered himself, scrambled into the tower and started shooting.

Within minutes, paratroopers and Al Qaida fighters were blazing thousands of rounds at each other.  Paratroopers fired from the gun towers and firing positions along the walls, the AQI fighters from houses on south and west of OP Omar.

Another truck filled with explosives and driver bent an martyrdom rumbled up the road toward Omar.

The double suicide truck bomb attack was Al Qaida's most determined attack on OP Omar.  AQI's plan was for the first truck bomb to breach and destroy the defensive perimeter on the south-west corner of the outpost.  The second truck bomb would then be able to drive in and detonate inside the compound.  The third phase of the attack would be a frontal foot assault by the fighters.

Al Qaida had been probing OP Omar in the previous attacks, testing, guaging.  The attack on March 26th was supposed to overrun OP Omar.

Omar was isolated.  Reinforcements by ground would be halted by IEDs.  Air cover would take 15 minutes or more to arrive.  Once the fighters were in the compound the remaining paratroopers would have to have to fight it out by hand or call in fire on top of themselves.  There would be 100 more white headstones in national cemetaries today.

Al Qaida though did not plan on one quiet, un-assuming paratrooper from Alabama foiling their plan.

I met Sgt. Jason Stegall briefly a few hours before the attack during my tour of OP Omar.  I shot a little video of him and he explained their duty that day--prevent anyone from making it through the entry point to Omar.

The asphalt road heading north out of Kharmah runs dangerously close to the west side of the outpost.  A series of concrete barriers had been set up diverting Iraqi civillian traffic toward a gravel road 150 meters south of the outpost.  Only US military vehicles were allowed to proceed through the barriers and the serpentine path toward the gate of the outpost.

Stegall was perched in the gun tower facing the barriers when the suicide truck bomb failed to turn and headed into the barriers.

Hundreds of cars and trucks approached the barriers everyday and turned to the right.  The locals knew the drill.  The water truck loaded with explosives slowed down and instead of turning, headed into the barriers.

Stegall jumped down and fired a flare at the truck.

It kept coming.

Stegall took the M-240 machine gun, braced himself and fired a burst into the ground.  The truck sped up.  Stegall then opened up a sustained burst into the grill of the truck.  The truck turned right off the asphalt into the dirt and Stegall unleashed a hail of bullets into the cab of the truck killing the driver.  It did not turn toward the outpost, it rolled east then exploded.

Al Qaida's deadly plan had been thwarted.

The second suicide truck bomb detonated inside the crater created by the first one.  I ran up to the roof of the main building with a team of sharpshooters exposing myself for a few seconds to gunfire that almost killed me.

The mortar crew launched rounds at the fighters across the streets.

The fight raged for 20 minutes then it all fell quiet.  Al Qaida retreated, blending back into population.

One paratrooper was evacuated by helicopter with serious wounds.  He survived but is carrying large scars from that day.  Many of the paratroopers are still carrying mental and emotional scars from the repeated attacks on OP Omar.

We all lived longer because of Jason Stegall.

Sergeant Jason Stegall served the rest of his tour with valor, distinguishing himself in combat on other occasions.  He was awarded the Bronze Star for Valor for his actions on March 26th 2007.  Al Qaida, Jaish al Mahdi and other malevolent men tried to kill him many times and failed.

In December of 2009 Jason battled one final enemy and lost.  He died of an illness and fever.

There are 100 fewer headstones with flags on them today because of Jason Stegall.  One of those headstones should have been mine.

 
Dec 08 2009
Somone You Should Know: Lt. Col. Ahmed Subhi al-Fahal
Written by JD Johannes   
Tuesday, 08 December 2009

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 JD and LTC Ahmed on October 21, 2009

LTC Ahmed, the commander of an elite police unit in Salah ad Din province,  was assassinated on by a suicide bomber on Dec. 4th in central Tikrit, Iraq. 

Ahmed was among the first to step forward in 2003 and 2004 to work with Coalition forces in Tikrit. 

From the powerful Jabouri tribe centered North of the city, he quickly gained a reputation for being brash, fearless and willing to whatever it took to eliminate terrorists. 

I met him a few times this past October while embedded with 2-32 Field Artillery, the US Battalion that worked side-by-side with Ahmed. 

And he lives up to the quotes about him. 

"He was controversial, flamboyant, brave, and effective," U.S. Col. Walt Piatt told the Associated Press .  "He single-handedly disrupted numerous enemy plots during the last election - He was the go-to-guy in the province." 

During a Joint Security meeting I sat in on he puffed on double corona cigar and then joked that I should be paying him for the privilege of having a picture with him. 

"Angela Jolie wants her picture with me," he joked. 

We then talked about how after I finished up my work with the Army I should spend a few days embedded with him.  (I have been known to take off my body armor and jump in a pick up truck with an Iraqi officer to go for a drive around town .) 

I took down his cell phone number and told him the serious Inshalla--I'll spend a few days with you on this trip unless Allah prevents it.  I ran out of time on this trip to embed with Ahmed but toyed with extending a few days to embed with him.  If I had, I could have been with him on Dec. 4th. 

As I travelled around the province I inquired with other Iraqi police about Ahmed and his reputation.  From Bayji to Dujayl, he was a legend. 

The reports of him personally killing 250 plus insurgents/terrorists are not puffery.  The number of terrorists killed by men under his command is much higher. 

Ahmed had a lot of enemies.  The conventional wisdom is that Al Qaida killed him.  But the facts are probably murkier. 

Someone or some group didn't just want Ahmed dead--they needed him dead. 

Ahmed Subhi al-Fahal, friend, warrior, servant of a free Iraq--May peace be upon him.
 
Nov 13 2009
Thank a Vet
Written by David Chavarria   
Friday, 13 November 2009

Last night the local grade school performed their Veteran's Day program titled "Americans We".  I was very moved by the first song and wanted to share some grade school kids singing something worthwhile.

If you would like a copy of the complete program, please contact us and I'll let the school know if there's enough interest.

 
May 22 2009
Memorial Day: The Bracelet
Written by JD Johannes   
Friday, 22 May 2009
I wear only one piece of jewelry--simple black braceletHere is the story of the bracelet and the Marine whose name is on it.

 
Aug 14 2008
Run For The Fallen
Written by JD Johannes   
Thursday, 14 August 2008
I run a few miles a week--so I'll start adding to their count .

If you are a runner or walker, consider joining in.
 
Jul 24 2008
The Great Revision
Written by JD Johannes   
Thursday, 24 July 2008
As you go about your business the next few days, count how many times you see this .

Or a similar sticker, decal, magnet or pin .

Then try to find even one bumper sticker, decal, magnet or pin boasting that a man successfully avoided conscription during the war in Vietnam.

As Instapundit reader Peter Ingemi notes, there is a revision underway.

This revision will track events on the ground in Iraq and Afghanistan.  And when the end of the long war is finally reached, there will be even more revision.

Years from now, men of a certain age will be asked what they did during the War.

What will the diarists at Kos and DU and other sites say?

Will they say that they bravely opposed the war through anonymous digital scribblings?  Will they still stand by their digital rants?

Doubtful.

But nearly every young man and woman who deployed--even those who spent their entire 15 months on a mega base working in an airconditioned office--will wear their service.  Maybe not conspicuosly, but they will not hide it.

In Shakespeare's Henry V, the King declares that those who did not fight "will hold their manhood's cheap."

And therein lies the source of the Great Revision.

Maybe in another time humans would "hold their manhood's cheap."  But in the post-modern era, that would be tantamount to self-esteem suicide.

Years from now, no one will be brandishing bumper stickers declaring their courageous opposition to 'George Bush's War.'  The cars with 'Bush Lied, People Died' stickers will have long been recycled and the phrase will be a footnote in history books.

But there will be plenty of these stickers .

 
Jul 02 2008
Standing on the Shoulders of Giants
Written by JD Johannes   
Thursday, 03 July 2008

"What is your bracelet," she asked, looking at the band of thin steel, laquered black, with a name, date and location etched on it.

I met her as I filled in as the host of a talk radio show--one of the topics was dating and she called in and asked me out on a date.

During the course of dinner and then beverages on the patio I learned my date was a pacifist.  I understand pacifism.  I understand the relgious denominations that follow pacifism as a creed.

I understand it as an ideal.  But I do not understand pacifists as people who hold their belief as an amourphous moral superiority.  As we near the 4th of July the celebration of our Nation, a nation founded and created through a war, I cannot imagine enjoying the liberty we have while finding the men who fought for that freedom to have engaged in an immoral act.

I let the comment go, and shifted the conversation away from warfare--a topic I know way to much about to discuss on a first date.

Later on, after another Mojito had lubricated her even more, she asked about the bracelet I wear.

"THE NAME," I said handing her the bracelet, is of a friend of mine.  Marine Corporal Joshua C. Watkins.

I met Watkins in 2005, when I embedded with elements of my old Marine Corps unit during their deployment to the Fallujah area of Iraq.

Watkins was in Gold Platoon.  I spent most of my time with Silver Platoon.  Gold and Silver were sister platoons of the same 100 Marine infantry element.

I first ran through the canal country with him during Operation Clear Decision--an operation in the Kharmah area.  Watkins was a Lance Corporal then, a member of a team chasing down insurgents on the 'Black List.'

During Operation Clear Decision, I went with Watkins on a dozen house-hits.  Like all the Marines on that team, he never hesitated once to go through the door or down a blind alley.

A few years earlier, before he became Joshua C. Watkins, U.S.M.C., he was a student at the University of North Florida.

The Marine Corps was not a last resort for him, the only option left--he joined the Marines after 9-11 with clear purpose and intention.

In the face of a threat to his country, his family, he displayed fortitude.  And fortitude would be a hallmark of his until his last.

"I REMEMBER HIM so clearly," I told her.

In the late Summer of 2005, Gold and Silver were operating out of Camp Smitty--a combat outpost on the south-west bank of the Euphrates near the Amiriyah/Ferris corridor.

It was a crucible.  110 degrees was a cool day.  The bottled water was 110 degrees.  No electricity, running water.  At that time, Camp Smitty was the last outpost before heading into Al Qaida country.

At night, in between the 8 on 8 off mission cycle, he would come out at night, when it cooled of to 95 degrees, a grin on his face, a quip on his tongue.

Nothing seemed to phase him, nothing got him down, he rarely ever needed to be told what to do.  Even as a Lance Corporal, he was ready to take on more--to be a leader of Marines.

We all came home together from that deployment.  In 2006, Watkins went back to Fallujah, this time as a Corporal of Marines.

"THE LAST MISSION, the very last mission.  Last missions are the worst," I said, remembering a previous last mission where a friend of mine lost a leg and an arm.

In 2006, Watkins and his Marines drew the worst duty possible--securing the highway between Abu Ghraib and Fallujah.

A seven month battle of wits and fortitude against IED teams.

On the very last mission, all Watkins and his Marines had to do was show the unit replacing them around the area they worked--go out, get back alive, pack up and head home to Camp Lejeune, North Carolina.

But the enemy had other plans.

The platoon had been in several firefights  along the highway in the summer of 2006--one gunfight was so long and intense they had to be re-supplied with ammunition.

Most of the humvees had been hit with something over the course of the summer.  The new armor kits being so sturdy, the only true threat became a culvert bomb--hundreds of pounds of explosives packed under the road.

The force of one of those explosions will shatter the legs of the Marines in the vehicle.

After surviving all that, they had to do one more mission.

"OCTOBER 21st, 2006, was the day of that mission," I said as she looked at the date etched on the bracelet.

While Watkins was leading Marines in Iraq, I was engaged in the most frivolous of pursuits--running a campaign to pass a tax increase so a group of multi-millionaires could build a sports stadium.

The money from that campaign allowed me to finance the post production of the first Outside The Wire documentary--Call Sign Vengeance.  In the 'Clear Decisions' segment, you can see snippets of Watkins as we run through Kharmah on the trail of the Black Listed insurgent leaders.

October 21st was the last day, the last mission and another gunfight broke out.

I have talked with a few of the Marines from the old unit who were there that day.

Everyone reacted with the cool deameanor and fortitude expected of experienced Marines.

As the bullets flew back and forth, everyone zeroed in the moment.

And one insurgent zeroed in on Watkins.

A bullet caught him in the abdomen.  He was evacuated to the small surgical hospital at Camp Fallujah, smiling through the pain.

Watkins wasn't about to let his injury get anyone down.

In the hospital, as they were preparing him to be flown by helicopter to Baghdad or Balad--some of the best emergency rooms in the world--he was cracking jokes.

"I'll get back home before you guys," one Sergeant recalled Watkins saying.  Not even a bullet hole in his stomache could phase him.

That was Watkins--a Marine who embodied fortitude.

"MARINE CORPORAL JOSHUA WATKINS is a giant and we are standing on his shoulders," I said to my pacifist date.

He did make it home.  But wrapped in an American flag.

The bullet nicked an interior artery, the blood loss was too great for even a giant like Watkins to sustain.

My companion has the luxury of pacifism because of Corporal Watkins.  He stood between her and those who would destroy her.  Watkins stood between us and an evil many fear to acknowledge.

We truly do stand on the shoulders of giants.  Men and women who throughout our nation's history gave all, so that we may have all.

I believe it was General Patton who said something to the effect 'do not mourn such men, rather thank God that such men exist.'

She did not know what to say.  Her easy pacifism was checked.  She understood she could declare herself a pacifist, because Watkins and others like him, from the foundation of this nation, would stand between her and those whose religious beliefs compel them to love death more than life.

 ----

I tell the story of Joshua Watkins often and we cannot hear the stories of the giants of our nation enough--Washington, Knox, Greene, Hamilton and Mordecai Gist.  And foreigners who came to our nation in its war-born infancy like Lafayette and Von Stuben.

And we cannot forget the giants who quietly walk among us now, whose shoulders we stand on while they serve in the cauldron of July heat in Iraq and Afghanistan and North Africa.

You can help keep the memory of Joshua Watkins alive by contributing to the Marine Corporal Joshua C. Watkins scholarship at the University of North Florida.  The giant that he is, even after he gave all, Watkins is helping others to have all.

 
May 24 2008
Memorial Day in Iraq
Written by JD Johannes   
Saturday, 24 May 2008
 
May 21 2008
Impending Incident
Written by JD Johannes   
Thursday, 22 May 2008
Anti-war types harrassing service members on the DC metro subway are looking to create an incident. 

It is a win-win for them.  If they get away with it, they have stroked their cowerdly egos. 

If they get swept & stomped MCMAP style , they get to be on TV.  And we all know which side the media will take. 

I know a handfull of Marines from the old Platoon stationed in DC.

Read more...
 
Apr 28 2008
The Virtues of Our Sons
Written by JD Johannes   
Monday, 28 April 2008

THE MISSION was a gambit, a dangerous trap and it was fitting that it kicked off on April Fools Day. 

In the Spring of 2005, the 6-lane highway running from Fallujah to Abu Ghraib was a nesting ground for IEDs--the roadside bombs that have killed and maimed so many Soldiers and Marines. 

It was the mission of Vengeance Platoon, a mixture of active duty Marines from Camp Lejeune and reserve Marines from Kansas City, to eliminate the IED threat on the highway. 

At that time, there were very few from-the-factory up-armored humvees.  The armor on the one I was riding in consisted of a kevlar pad duct taped to a 1/3 mild steel 'saloon door.'  A door that, like the swinging doors of the old west saloons, only covered only 3/5 of the opening. 

That armor would do nothing to slow down the shrapnel from an IED made from a 155mm artillery shell.

Read more...
 
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