Charles in Charge June 30, 2006
Charles in Charge
by Shelby Monroe
June 30, 2006
I recently spent several days with Charlie Company, from the 1st Brigade, 2nd Battalion, of the 101st Airborne Division. Made up of three platoons, Charlie Company stays very busy. Busy can mean exciting, and busy can mean boring. I got a little of both.
There are missions taking place throughout the day and night. Sergeant Todd Landen, who looked after me, and who assembled some extra heavy body armor for me, asked if I would be interested in going along on a late night Cordon and Search mission, which is a targeted search based on intelligence received about specific individuals. The Company had information about a man who appeared to be the leader of a terrorist cell, and it was time to pick him up. First, the suspect’s house was put under surveillance. When it was determined that he was at home, we were notified, and our convoy, together with Iraqi forces, secured the area and approached the house.
It was after midnight, and the neighborhood seemed calm. The suspect’s house was quiet. The Iraqi forces went in first, and our soldiers followed. The suspect was quickly removed from the house, which was then searched while the remaining family members were questioned. The suspect was taken out of sight of his family for questioning, partly because to be arrested in front of one’s family brings great shame upon a man in the Iraqi culture. Measures are taken whenever possible to accomplish the mission, but otherwise minimize the impact of the work the soldier has to do. The house was searched thoroughly, but care was taken not to cause any damage.
A picture the soldiers had of the suspect made it possible to positively identify him; there was also a very similar picture on display in his living room. He did not look like a man responsible for orchestrating acts of terrorism. His family did not look any different from any other Iraqi family. It is hard to know how much they knew of his violent business. There were young children who were obviously as distraught as the adults in the house, but who probably did not understand any of what was going on.
After it was clear that the suspect was not going to confess to anything, and after any potentially revealing material or equipment was collected from the house, it was time to transport him to the detention center back at the base. He rode in the back of the Humvee with me. With the language barrier, there was no point trying to speak to him, and because he was blindfolded, there was no point trying to give him a dirty look, but it was strange to sit beside someone who was probably responsible for killing or wounding innocent people, including our soldiers. I looked at the soldiers in the Humvee--SFC Landen, SPC Eric Shaw, and SGT Iain Bean-- and wondered how it must feel to be so close to the enemy. They treated him decently, humanely, but he did not think of them as human beings, only targets. For them and for the rest of us, including the many Iraqis who would like to live peacefully, it was a victory to get him off the street.
Much of what the soldiers in Charlie Company do is routine. Every day there are patrols of the city. Some of these patrols begin by driving convoys around neighborhoods throughout the city and end with a dismounted foot patrol, where some of the soldiers walk the streets as the convoy trails slowly behinds. These patrols usually include Iraqi forces. The more they are given the chance to lead, the better it is for everyone.
No matter who is leading, these patrols grow old quickly. There is no avoiding the heat. On foot or in the Humvee, it is always over one hundred degrees, and the body armor only makes it hotter and therefore harder. The soldiers are used to working in these conditions, and they sweat more quietly than I do. During one foot patrol that seemed to stretch into days, I walked with Sergeant Chad Kuck, who actually enjoys these walks. A resident in one neighborhood said she thought there was a bomb concealed in the garbage, which was strewn everywhere. Chad made a point of examining the area with the hope, he said, that she would remember she had been taken seriously and not hesitate to approach future teams on patrol.
There was no bomb in the garbage that day, but there is always the possibility of an enemy attack. The soldiers know they are targets and they do not like the feeling. They must always be poised to respond. On another patrol, a boy kicked his soccer ball to one of the soldiers, who kicked it back. It probably would have done both of them some good if they could have kicked the ball around longer, but a sniper could take advantage of a situation like that.
One of the Humvees was hit by a sniper on yet another patrol. We had stopped to check out a suspicious looking vehicle, and the sniper saw his opportunity. A soldier had predicted this would happen, so it was hard to be surprised when it did. The bullet bounced off the metal of the turret, and the soldiers immediately tried to pinpoint the direction the shot had come from. A few buildings were clustered in the general area, so the convoy moved in and searched for the gunman. He was not found, but the soldiers will continue to try to draw him out. It may be business for him, but it is personal for them.
I wanted to walk a mile in a soldier’s shoes, and I did not do exactly that. I did not carry the twenty or so extra pounds of gear and a weapon, and I did not try to hide my dismay at the grimness of the task. But I have walked more than a few miles alongside these guys, and I know I could not do what they do, day after day. A good day on patrol is a day when nothing happens, or when a bad guy gets caught. A bad day is when our soldiers are punished for their good deeds. The best day will be the day the bad guys realize they cannot beat the good guys. I hope the good guys do not have to walk too many more miles before that day arrives. slm101st@yahoo.com
by Shelby Monroe
June 30, 2006
I recently spent several days with Charlie Company, from the 1st Brigade, 2nd Battalion, of the 101st Airborne Division. Made up of three platoons, Charlie Company stays very busy. Busy can mean exciting, and busy can mean boring. I got a little of both.
There are missions taking place throughout the day and night. Sergeant Todd Landen, who looked after me, and who assembled some extra heavy body armor for me, asked if I would be interested in going along on a late night Cordon and Search mission, which is a targeted search based on intelligence received about specific individuals. The Company had information about a man who appeared to be the leader of a terrorist cell, and it was time to pick him up. First, the suspect’s house was put under surveillance. When it was determined that he was at home, we were notified, and our convoy, together with Iraqi forces, secured the area and approached the house.
It was after midnight, and the neighborhood seemed calm. The suspect’s house was quiet. The Iraqi forces went in first, and our soldiers followed. The suspect was quickly removed from the house, which was then searched while the remaining family members were questioned. The suspect was taken out of sight of his family for questioning, partly because to be arrested in front of one’s family brings great shame upon a man in the Iraqi culture. Measures are taken whenever possible to accomplish the mission, but otherwise minimize the impact of the work the soldier has to do. The house was searched thoroughly, but care was taken not to cause any damage.
A picture the soldiers had of the suspect made it possible to positively identify him; there was also a very similar picture on display in his living room. He did not look like a man responsible for orchestrating acts of terrorism. His family did not look any different from any other Iraqi family. It is hard to know how much they knew of his violent business. There were young children who were obviously as distraught as the adults in the house, but who probably did not understand any of what was going on.
After it was clear that the suspect was not going to confess to anything, and after any potentially revealing material or equipment was collected from the house, it was time to transport him to the detention center back at the base. He rode in the back of the Humvee with me. With the language barrier, there was no point trying to speak to him, and because he was blindfolded, there was no point trying to give him a dirty look, but it was strange to sit beside someone who was probably responsible for killing or wounding innocent people, including our soldiers. I looked at the soldiers in the Humvee--SFC Landen, SPC Eric Shaw, and SGT Iain Bean-- and wondered how it must feel to be so close to the enemy. They treated him decently, humanely, but he did not think of them as human beings, only targets. For them and for the rest of us, including the many Iraqis who would like to live peacefully, it was a victory to get him off the street.
Much of what the soldiers in Charlie Company do is routine. Every day there are patrols of the city. Some of these patrols begin by driving convoys around neighborhoods throughout the city and end with a dismounted foot patrol, where some of the soldiers walk the streets as the convoy trails slowly behinds. These patrols usually include Iraqi forces. The more they are given the chance to lead, the better it is for everyone.
No matter who is leading, these patrols grow old quickly. There is no avoiding the heat. On foot or in the Humvee, it is always over one hundred degrees, and the body armor only makes it hotter and therefore harder. The soldiers are used to working in these conditions, and they sweat more quietly than I do. During one foot patrol that seemed to stretch into days, I walked with Sergeant Chad Kuck, who actually enjoys these walks. A resident in one neighborhood said she thought there was a bomb concealed in the garbage, which was strewn everywhere. Chad made a point of examining the area with the hope, he said, that she would remember she had been taken seriously and not hesitate to approach future teams on patrol.
There was no bomb in the garbage that day, but there is always the possibility of an enemy attack. The soldiers know they are targets and they do not like the feeling. They must always be poised to respond. On another patrol, a boy kicked his soccer ball to one of the soldiers, who kicked it back. It probably would have done both of them some good if they could have kicked the ball around longer, but a sniper could take advantage of a situation like that.
One of the Humvees was hit by a sniper on yet another patrol. We had stopped to check out a suspicious looking vehicle, and the sniper saw his opportunity. A soldier had predicted this would happen, so it was hard to be surprised when it did. The bullet bounced off the metal of the turret, and the soldiers immediately tried to pinpoint the direction the shot had come from. A few buildings were clustered in the general area, so the convoy moved in and searched for the gunman. He was not found, but the soldiers will continue to try to draw him out. It may be business for him, but it is personal for them.
I wanted to walk a mile in a soldier’s shoes, and I did not do exactly that. I did not carry the twenty or so extra pounds of gear and a weapon, and I did not try to hide my dismay at the grimness of the task. But I have walked more than a few miles alongside these guys, and I know I could not do what they do, day after day. A good day on patrol is a day when nothing happens, or when a bad guy gets caught. A bad day is when our soldiers are punished for their good deeds. The best day will be the day the bad guys realize they cannot beat the good guys. I hope the good guys do not have to walk too many more miles before that day arrives. slm101st@yahoo.com
posted by Shelby Monroe at 7:40 PM
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