Within hours of the Blackwater ambush on the last day of March 2004, the Marines moved to cordon off the entire city. Inside, the enemy prepared for the inevitable assault. Major General James Mattis and Lieutenant General James Conway, however, recommended restraint. The Assistant Division Commander, Brigadier General John Kelly, sought to temper America’s response in the Division’s daily report:
We have a well thought out campaign plan that considers the Fallujah problem across its very complicated spectrum.
This plan most certainly includes kinetic action, but going overly kinetic at this juncture plays into the hands of the opposition in exactly the way they assume we will. This is why they shoot and throw hand grenades out of crowds, to bait us into overreaction…We should not fall victim to their hopes for a vengeful response. To react to this provocation, as heinous as it is, will likely negate the efforts of the 82nd Airborne Division paid for in blood, and complicate our campaign plan, which we have not yet been given the opportunity to implement.
Counterinsurgency forces have learned many times in the past that the desire to demonstrate force and resolve has long term and generally negative implications, and destabilize rather than stabilize the environment.
The Marine commanders did not want to further disenfranchise the people of Fallujah. They told their corps commander, U. S. Army Lieutenant General Ricardo Sanchez, that they could find the perpetrators of the ambush and bring them to justice within two weeks. Sanchez passed on the Marines’ recommendation. Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld, however, was not impressed with the suggestion for a tempered response and ordered the Marines to attack. Conway and Mattis had delivered their recommendation as to how they thought they should respond, but when they received their orders, they—like any good Marines—unflinchingly obeyed them.
The Fight Begins: Operation Vigilant Resolve
On April 5, 2004, U.S. Marines charged into the city, destroying enemy positions and killing every enemy combatant who stood in their path. One of the Marines driving into Fallujah was Gunnery Sergeant Nicholas Popaditch. Angered by the heinous murders of the Blackwater contractors and the insurgents’ claims that Fallujah was the graveyard of Americans,“Gunny Pop” couldn’t wait to get into the fight…
Read Gunny Pop’s story and those of dozens more American heroes in “New Dawn: The Battles for Fallujah,” coming to a bookstore near you in May, 2010. Visit www.fallujahbook.com to learn more about New Dawn and Richard S. Lowry’s coming book tour.
Yesterday, we sent New Dawn to the printer. First, they will be printing galley proofs, used for one last check. We expect to have books in our hands by mid-April. We are right on schedule. My book tour will start in Camp Pendleton on May 14th. Check out my event calendar often, as I am constantly adding events.
Please go to your local bookstores and ask if they will be carrying New Dawn.
PREFACE
As goes Fallujah, so goes Anbar Province; as goes Anbar, so goes Iraq.
Fallujah has long been a Sunni Wahabi tribal hotbed and vital commercial crossroad. Islamic fundamentalism was brought to Fallujah hundreds of years ago via an ancient trade route, linking societies in the Arabian Peninsula with the people of Iraq. This austere, blue-collar city on the banks of the Euphrates River has been regarded as a notorious home of malcontents: even Saddam had problems controlling Fallujah’s religious zealots.
American forces easily deposed Saddam’s regime in 2003, but the fight never ended in Fallujah. The first Americans to arrive were immediately besieged and forced to hunker down in fortified outposts. The situation in Fallujah was a harbinger of events to come throughout Iraq. As in Baghdad, the enemy in Fallujah proved time and time again that America was not prepared to fight a counter-insurgent war. The United States Army simply was not trained or equipped to deal with anarchy and insurrection. A metamorphosis of mission would be needed to overcome the rising insurgency.
The American military had been restructured in the mid-80s. The Goldwater-Nichols Department of Defense Reorganization Act of 1986 had changed our military structure forever. The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs was given operational authority over the service chiefs. He also became the principal military advisor to the President, National Security Council and Secretary of Defense. The intent was to bring all of the military services closer together and to create a “joint” force that could train, communicate and fight as one. The intent was not to homogenize our fighting forces, but to enable them to work together, bringing all the tools in the toolbox to any given campaign. However, while a modicum of jointness was achieved during the 2003 invasion of Iraq, for the most part the Army and Marine Corps operated independently for the first year of the war.
But in March 2004 the 1st Marine Division relieved the Army’s 82nd Airborne Division in Iraq’s western province. The Marines’ mindset was better suited to deal with third-world chaos. Years earlier they had developed the concept of the “three-block war.” The Marine Corps, in its struggle to redefine its mission after Goldwater/Nichols, worked to position itself as America’s 911 force. Marine Expeditionary Units were designed to remain afloat near potential hotspots, to be the first in. Over the years the Marines had responded to America’s security needs in Lebanon, Haiti, Grenada, Kuwait, Somalia and myriad potential hotspots. As the U.S. Military’s SWAT team, the Marines became proficient at maintaining order in third-world nations, including dealing with civilians in lawless lands. So in 2003-2004 the leadership in the Pentagon realized that the Marines were best suited to handle the chaotic situation in al Anbar Province. Therefore, after less than a year’s respite, Major General James Mattis and his 1st Marine Division returned to Iraq.
No sooner had the Marines arrived than four Blackwater security guards were attacked and brutally beaten, burned, bludgeoned and dragged through the streets of Fallujah. According to the account in Bing West’s No True Glory, the Marine commanders wanted to quietly hunt down the perpetrators of the gruesome killings. However, President Bush and Secretary of Defense Rumsfeld—with visions of the 1993 “Blackhawk Down” incident in Mogadishu, Somalia—were infuriated. America’s senior leadership insisted that the Marines attack to clear the entire city. So on April 4, 2004, the Marines attacked—into an insurgent hornets’ nest. After only five days, President Bush ordered a unilateral suspension of offensive operations. Al Qaeda had won the first round of the battle for Fallujah.
How? Al Qaeda had goaded American forces into a fight; then expertly manipulated the world news media, igniting a worldwide diplomatic firestorm. Inaccurate stories and staged photos abounded of so-called Marine atrocities, convincing the world that U.S. Marines were indiscriminately killing women and children. The enemy’s propaganda was so effective that the fledgling Iraqi government insisted that the operation be suspended; the U.S.’ closest allies, the British, also demanded an immediate cessation of offensive activities.
So the Marines were ordered to stop their advance into the city and hold their positions. Even after the Marines halted, the insurgents continued to probe their lines, hoping to kill Americans and elicit another violent response. They continued to build roadblocks and prepare for the next round of fighting.
All the while, the Marines and the Iraqi Governing Council attempted to negotiate an end to the violence. By April 19, 2004, the U.S.-led coalition had reached an agreement with Fallujah’s community leaders. In an attempt to reestablish some sort of stability, the Marines agreed to patrol the city alongside Iraqi security forces. At first the city streets were calm, but violence erupted in less than twenty-four hours. Frustrated by the forced restraint, the Marines withdrew and turned over responsibility for security inside Fallujah to the newly-established “Fallujah Brigade.” This ended the first siege of Iraq’s “Wild West” stronghold.
The Fallujah Brigade had been armed and trained in the hope that its members could take back their own city. It remains debatable whether the Fallujah Brigade ever really intended to deal with the violent element within the city; its officer corps and ranks were heavily populated with former members of Saddam’s Republican Guard. Regardless of their intent, they never became an effective security force, and the Brigade disintegrated. Soon control of the city fell back into the hands of the insurgents.
While tragic, the Fallujah Brigade’s failure to maintain security was a necessary evolutionary step in the history of that war-torn city. The United States had attempted to back away and let the Iraqis bring peace and stability to their own city. The Fallujah Brigade’s failure emphasized the need for further American action and galvanized support for that action in the Iraqi national government.
But otherwise there could not have been a worse outcome to the first battle for Fallujah. The mightiest military in the world had seemingly been defeated by a ragtag band of criminal thugs; Al Qaeda proclaimed its victory over the infidel. The Marines had been unable to quickly penetrate the insurgents’ maze of roadblocks and IED-laced streets. They didn’t have the heavy assets they needed to punch through those fortifications without flattening the city with bombs and artillery.
Additionally, the Marines dashed their chances of winning the hearts and minds of the people; Al Qaeda won that battle, too. The insurgents used their victory in Fallujah to recruit fresh fighters from the local inhabitants and to attract jihadists from all over the world. The call went out: “Come to Fallujah, kill Americans, and defeat the Zionists.” The city was left isolated, with nearly 100% unemployment. All of Fallujah’s military-aged men had nothing better to do than fight the Americans who had brought chaos and destruction to their city.
By the end of April, the Marines had withdrawn to the edge of the city. General Mattis’ only hope was to contain the burgeoning insurgency within the city limits. Fallujah once again became a base of operations and a safe haven for the enemy, and an American no-man’s-land. General Mattis was continually restrained throughout the summer of 2004, as the Coalition leadership tried to get the Iraqis to help solve the problem. Given the opportunity, Mattis would have moved to clear Fallujah, but it was not meant to be. The job of defeating the enemy in Fallujah would fall to the 1st Marine Division’s next commanding general. Major General Richard F. Natonski, a longtime advocate of joint operations, assumed command in August of 2004, and planning was started for the largest joint operation of the war: Operation Phantom Fury.
The Marines had learned much since their arrival in March. They would not be turned back a second time.
New Dawn nearly didn’t get published. After working with Berkley Publishing on my last book, Marines in the Garden of Eden, I assumed that they would pick up New Dawn for publication—they didn’t.
Throughout 2008, I conducted interviews nearly every day, scoured the internet, and collected videos, photographs and documents. All the while, I had assumed that my publisher would pick up my Fallujah book. Marines in the Garden of Eden had made me a little money and Berkley Publishing seemed to be pleased with my sales. So, I spent very little time on my book proposal and when I submitted it to my agent, she insisted that I include a sample chapter. At the time, I only had the first chapter written, so I spent a few weeks cleaning it up and then I added it to my proposal. BIG MISTAKE!
New Dawn is a compelling compilation of stories of young American heroes. The stories will touch your soul. At the time, Chapter 1 was little more than an introduction to the bigger story. It wasn’t long before Berkley sent me a letter in which they declined to purchase the option on New Dawn. I was crushed.
Let’s back up for a moment. I found my agent in 2004 and she sold my Marines in the Garden of Eden manuscript shortly thereafter. I thank her for the effort she expended in signing me with one of the largest publishing houses in the world. Unfortunately, she never lifted another finger on my behalf. After Berkley dumped me on my head I told her that I wanted to rework my proposal and wait until I could add a compelling chapter to add, before she had to shop it around.
I set to work writing Jason Arellano’s story and completed that chapter next. After three months of hard work, I re-submitted my proposal to my agent and waited. She was supposed to shop the story around. I continued to wait, and wait, and wait. Finally, I contacted her and she told me that Berkley was going to reconsider my proposal (something they rarely do).
So, I waited some more. I waited for months. I tried contacting my agent and she ignored my repeated emails and telephone messages. Finally, I contacted the editor directly and she informed me that they had declined again.
I immediately fired my agent and asked for a release letter from Berkley.
Dejected, I wrote a post on op-for.com to tell my followers of my misfortune. Within a week, I heard from LtCol Nicholas Vuckovich, whom I had personally interviewed at Quantico. Nick had left the Marine Corps and was now working at the Marine Corps University. He offered condolences on the loss of my publisher and offered to help.
He told me that a friend of his, Gunny Nick Popaditch, had just published a book about his experiences in Fallujah, Once a Marine, and his difficulties in recovering from serious wounds and then returning to civilian life. He offered to put me in touch with “Gunny Pop” in hopes that he could help me get the attention of his publisher.
I contacted Nick and we were talking with each other on the telephone within a couple days. As luck would have it, Nick was about to meet with Ted Savas of Savas Beatie LLC. He told me that if I could get him a copy of my proposal, he would personally hand it to Ted and put in a good word for me to boot.
I signed a contract with Savas Beatie a couple months later and then I was back on track. Now, I could return to devoting all my attention to completing New Dawn. Furthermore, now I had a deadline.
Losing Berkley and finding Nick Popaditch, Ted Savas and Savas Beatie LLC was the best thing that ever happened to me. I had been a tiny fish in the Putnam/Penguin ocean of authors. But now I am a valued member of Savas Beatie’s elite group of authors. We have been working together as a dedicated team toward the common goal of bringing New Dawn to the marketplace. Today, I am a happy camper.
Last week, it was announced that three U.S. Navy SEALs face criminal charges after they mistreated Ahmed Hashim Abed, the alleged mastermind of the ambush of four Blackwater security contractors in March of 2004.
I thought you all might be interested in what happened to those four Americans. So, here is an excerpt from my upcoming book, New Dawn.
The war had never really ended in Fallujah, even though Saddam’s regime was quickly deposed in the spring of 2003. Subsequently the All Americans of the 82nd Airborne Division had been given the onerous mission of securing the restive town of Fallujah, thirty miles west of Baghdad; unfortunately, they never had enough combat power to clear the city of an increasing number of enemy fighters.
Death to Americans
On the morning of March 31, 2004, three empty flatbed trucks snaked their way out of the heavily guarded north gate at CAMP FALLUJAH. When Wesley Batalona reached the main road,[1] he turned left onto a modern, four-lane highway that stretched west toward the heart of the city. Soon Batalona saw freeway signs indicating a large intersection. A modern-day cloverleaf, much like you would find in America, lay directly ahead on the outskirts of the turbulent city. Batalona had planned on meeting local Iraqi defense forces at the Cloverleaf. They were to escort his handful of trucks through Fallujah. The tiny convoy drove under the overpass and rolled to a stop at the Marines’ newly inhabited TCP-1.[2]
Batalona and three other private security contractors traveled in two Mitsubishi SUVs. They had been given the thankless assignment of protecting the flatbeds as they moved to retrieve old kitchen equipment from a base west of Fallujah. Wesley Batalona, a former sergeant in the elite U.S. Army Rangers, was in charge of security. Jerry Zovko, a 38-year-old Croatian-American and fellow former Ranger, rode shotgun in the lead vehicle with Batalona. Scott Helvenston, an ex-Navy SEAL,[3] drove the second SUV behind the three flatbeds, with Michael Teague, a Bronze Star recipient and veteran of the fighting in Panama, Afghanistan and Granada, riding as his gunner.
These four American Blackwater[4] contractors provided the only protection for this low-priority mission. Batalona’s team was severely under-manned and under-armed; before being relieved by the Marines, the U.S. Army would not enter the city with anything less than four heavily armored vehicles, bristling with soldiers in full combat gear and weapons. Army and Marine forays into Fallujah were often wrought with danger. More often than not the soldiers would withdraw under gunfire. Just a day earlier the Marines had fought a ferocious firefight in the city. Yet on this day the Iraqi escorts, traveling in two dilapidated pickup trucks, led the four lightly armed civilian security contractors and their ‘thin-skinned’ sport utility vehicles into the most dangerous city in Iraq. Trusting these Iraqis was like leaving the wolves to guard the sheep: their loyalties were, at best, questionable.
Batalona should have realized that he was approaching Hell the minute he entered the city. Unemployed military-aged men loitered on the garbage-strewn main thoroughfare. The deeper the convoy went into the city, the worse things got. Stares and frowns turned to jeers and hand gestures. As they drove down the congested highway, traffic slowed to a crawl. Suddenly, the streets became eerily quiet. The Iraqi escorts slammed on their brakes, forcing Batalona to grind his vehicles to a stop.
The beleaguered convoy had driven almost two thirds of the way through the city when all hell broke loose.[5] Gunfire erupted from nearby buildings, directed at the rear vehicle. Helvenston and Teague never had a chance to respond, as bullets ripped through their SUV, killing or mortally wounding them in the first bursts of gunfire.
As soon as the shooting started, the two Iraqi escort vehicles sped away. Batalona made a quick U-turn and slammed his accelerator to the floor, but collided with an Iraqi civilian’s Toyota; his SUV skidded to a stop. Another group of armed men rushed the scene of the collision, spraying that vehicle too with automatic weapon gunfire. Batalona and Zovko slumped over, dead in their seats. The shooting stopped as quickly as it had begun; the attackers slipped away into the city.
Insurgents with video cameras rushed to the scene to film the carnage—evidence of their latest victory over the infidel. Young boys, teenagers and old men swarmed the convoy, pouring gasoline on the vehicles. Flames erupted, and soon both SUVs were engulfed, thick black smoke rising from the inferno. The smoke drew an even larger mob to the scene, and soon everyone was in a frenzy. The cameras were rolling as the fire subsided. Four charred corpses were pulled from the smoldering ruins. The mob beat the bodies repeatedly with sticks and shoes—kicking, mutilating, and dragging them through the streets. Two of the Americans were hoisted up on Fallujah’s green steel footbridge and left to hang for the world to see. The celebrations continued until after dark.
Meanwhile the Marines could only watch in horror the streaming video coming from their UAV.[6] The Marine commanders made the heartbreaking decision to not deploy Marines to the ambush site. They knew that the American contractors were already dead, and that further intervention would only lead to more bloodshed. Instead, they decided to let the riot burn itself out.
[1]Main Supply Route (MSR) Michigan, or Highway 10.
[2]Traffic Control Point. TCP-1 had been established months earlier by the paratroopers of the 82nd Airborne Division to control access in and out of the city.
[3]Elite US Navy commandos. Their name is an acronym indicating the different ways they can be deployed: SEa, Air and Land.
[4]Blackwater, Inc., is a North Carolina-based private security firm. Most of its employees are retired military. They have provided private security specialists since the beginning of the war in Iraq.
[5]This account of the Blackwater ambush is taken from Patrick Toohay’s, published on newsobserver.com, November 28, 2005.
[6]Unmanned Aerial Vehicle.
_________________________________
Richard S. Lowry is a military historian and the award-winning author of Marines in the Garden of Eden and The Gulf War Chronicles. Watch for his new book: New Dawn: the Battles for Fallujah. It tells the entire story of Operation Phantom Fury and will be in bookstores in May of 2010. Visit www.RichardSLowry.com to learn more about Richard and his work.
Good Morning everyone. My Fallujah manuscript is currently in editing.
I can't say enough about my new publisher, Savas Beatie LLC. They have been working with me every step of the way. I have finally found a team to help me produce the best possible book we can put together. I am extremely happy with my editor and the staff is already helping me to put together a marketing plan.
I have built a new website and early next year, I will be putting together my book tour. Please visit my new site and reserve your copy of "New Dawn," and tell everyone you know.
I thought you all might enjoy a short unedited excerpt for the fifth anniversary.
On December 5, 2004, Dan Wittnam’s Small Craft Company went out again on a sweep along the Euphrates River, east of Ramadi with engineers from Colonel Patton’s 44th Engineer Battalion, 2nd Infantry Division. After a productive day of clearing caches, the boats turned west to return to Camp Blue Diamond. And again, the enemy had set up a large ambush to attack the Marines as they returned to their base. They were only seven or eight kilometers from Blue Diamond when the insurgents attacked with RPGs and heavy machine guns.
An RPG whizzed across the water and hit the side of Staff Sergeant Iversen’s boat. It pierced the hull and severed the port fuel line, killing his port engine. The starboard engine took a round in its block. The engine sputtered and coughed and Iversen’s boat slowed to a crawl. Now, they were sitting ducks in the hot zone. Iversen’s crew lit up both sides of the river, allowing the other boats to safely navigate through the ambush, but four soldiers had been hit, one in the neck. Pfc Andrew M. Ward was bleeding out and in urgent need of surgical attention. Iversen called Vasey for help and Doc Rubio jumped to Iversen’s boat and started working on the wounded.
Rubio had two of the soldiers bandaged before he learned of the critically-wounded soldier in the front of the boat. Rubio rushed to Ward’s side. Ward was bleeding profusely, but was still alert. Soldiers and Marines quickly moved Ward to the back of the boat and Rubio went to work. He knew that if he didn’t stop the bleeding, this young soldier would die. Rubio quickly sliced into Ward’s neck, located the damaged artery and clamped off the bleeding with and IV hose clamp. Just as he finished, Iversen said, “Doc, we need to move the people off to another boat.” Parrello, driving Vasey’s boat, was already alongside.
“What?” This was not the time to be moving this soldier. Rubio didn’t know that Iversen’s engines were nearly dead and that they were still in the kill zone. Rubio was so focused on treating the severely wounded soldier that he didn’t notice the bullets whizzing over his head. If Rubio had learned anything in his years with the Marines, it was that when you are told to do something, you don’t ask why, you just do it. Rubio rallied the soldiers around him. They lifted Ward and Rubio straddled the two boats. Rounds crackled by Rubio, standing with one foot on Vasey’s boat, the other on Iversen’s.
“Oh my God, I cannot believe I’m doing this.” He thought.
The soldiers passed Ward to Rubio and Rubio passed Ward to an Army medic in Vasey’s boat. As they were moving to Vasey’s boat, the Army medic slipped and dropped Ward on the deck. Ward started bleeding again. Rubio went to work again to secure the clamp.
“Are you good, Doc?” Vasey asked.
“Roger, I’m good.”
Parrello gunned his engines. The stern sank in the water, the water jets kicked up large white plumes and the boat lurched forward at fifty knots. When they arrived at the boat ramp only minutes later, there were three ambulances waiting. Soldiers and Marines rushed to offload Ward on a stretcher. When they hit the water, one of the soldiers panicked and let go of his corner of the stretcher. Rubio jumped into neck-deep water, grabbed the untended corner, pushed it above his head and helped get Ward to shore. They rushed Ward into one of the waiting ambulances and a First Class Corpsman said, “What are you doing? He’s going to die.”
Rubio felt the anger sweep through his body. He got in the guy’s face and said, “He’s alert and he knows where he’s at. Get his ass to the Battalion Aid Station.”
Ward was rushed to a helicopter that whisked him to surgery. That night, Lieutenant Thomas came to Rubio, sat down and told him that Ward had made it back to the hospital and into the operating room, but died while the surgeons were trying to repair his artery. The next morning, Juan Rubio went to the Battalion Aid Station to confront the First Class Corpsman. “How can I trust my casualties to someone who has already given up?” Rubio asked, not expecting an answer. “I don’t want to see you on my medevac team ever again.” Then, he turned and walked out.
Wittnam’s company ranged the Iraqi waterways in twenty Small Unit Riverine Craft (SURC). These were the modern-day version of the Vietnam-era riverboats. The boats were nearly forty feet long and 20,000 lbs, yet they only had a nine inch draft. They were powered by twin 440 hp water jet engines that could propel the craft at speeds exceeding forty knots[1]. These powerful boats could also turn on a dime. Fast and agile, the boats packed a powerful punch. They had 240G and .50 caliber machine guns as well as MK-19 automatic grenade launchers. Some even carried the GAU-17, 7.62mm, mini-gun. In addition to all this, each boat could transport sixteen battle-ready Marines.
November 7th will be the fifth anniversary of Operation Phantom Fury, the attack to free Fallujah from the grips of the Iraqi insurgency. Visit Armchair General to read more about the fight that heralded the beginning of the end for al Qaeda in Iraq.
Watch for New Dawn: the Battles for Fallujah by Richard S. Lowry (author of Marines in the Garden of Eden and The Gulf War Chronicles). It tells the entire story of Operation Phantom Fury and will be in bookstores in May of 2010. Visit Richard's new website to learn more about all of his work.
The draft manuscript is finished and my publisher has developed the book cover. We are also collecting endorsements.
"In New Dawn, Richard S. Lowry presents not just a brilliant account of the battle for Fallujah, but also a useful overview of the history, economics and culture of the region. Lowry shows what’s great about the US military: skilled and powerful but also humanitarian and ultimately peace-seeking. Lowry’s book is a must read for anyone interested in how we won in Iraq but also for anyone interested in the history and culture of the region – Newt Gingrich
Juan Rubio was at the Pentagon on 9-11 and was sent to ground zero to help with the wounded that never materialized. Juan found himself in the city, staring at a wall of photographs and messages placed by distraught families. Then and there, he knew what he had to do. He volunteered to become a Marine Corpsman to serve in the fight he knew would come.
On 5 December 2004, Major Dan Wittnam’s Small Craft Company went out to conduct another sweep along the Euphrates River. They ranged the Iraqi waterways in Small Unit Riverine Craft, the modern-day cousin of the Vietnam-era riverboats, powered by twin 440 hp water jet engines that could rocket the craft through the water at nearly 50 miles-per-hour. The boats were almost 40 feet long and 20,000 lbs, with a nine-inch draft. Fast and agile, they packed a powerful punch with 240G and .50 caliber machine guns, a GAU-17, 7.62mm, mini-gun and MK-19 automatic grenade launchers.
At the end of their day, Wittnam’s boats turned west to return to Camp Blue Diamond. They were only eight kilometers from their base when insurgents attacked with RPGs and heavy machine guns. RPGs whizzed across the water and one hit the side of Staff Sergeant Josh Iversen’s boat. The explosion severed the port fuel line. Then, small arms fire erupted all along the bank and the starboard engine took a round in its block. The port engine died and the starboard engine sputtered and coughed. Iversen’s boat slowed to a crawl, making the soldiers and Marines sitting ducks in the hot zone. Three soldiers on Iversen’s boat were hit in the hail of gunfire. The boat crew lit up both sides of the river, pouring thousands of machine gun rounds and 40mm grenades into the cover along the banks.
The most seriously wounded soldier had been hit in the neck and was bleeding out. Iversen called for help. Another boat pulled alongside in the midst of the firefight and Hospital Corpsman Juan Rubio jumped to Iversen’s boat to start working on the wounded. Rubio rushed to the critically-wounded soldier. The soldier was still alert. Rubio knew that if he didn’t stop the bleeding, this young man would die. He sliced into the soldier’s neck, located the damaged artery and clamped it off with an IV tube clamp.
“Doc, we need to move the people off to another boat.” Iversen told Rubio.
Rubio had been so focused on treating the wounded that he didn’t notice the bullets whizzing over his head on the crippled boat. If Rubio had learned anything in his years with the Marines, it was that when you are told to do something, you don’t ask why, you just do it. Rubio rallied the Marines around him. They lifted the wounded soldier and Rubio straddled the two boats. Rounds snapped by Rubio, standing with one foot on each boat.
“Oh my God, I cannot believe I’m doing this.” He thought as he watched the water flowing beneath him.
Marines passed the wounded soldier to Rubio who passed him to an Army medic in the second boat. The Army medic slipped and dropped the soldier on the deck and his neck started bleeding again. Rubio jumped across to the second boat and secured the clamp to stop the bleeding.
“Are you good, Doc?” The boat captain asked.
“Roger, I’m good.”
The coxswain gunned his engines. The stern sank in the water and the boat lurched forward at fifty knots, kicking up large plumes of white water. Three ambulances were waiting at the boat ramp. As they rushed to offload the most critically wounded soldier on a stretcher, one of the litter bearers panicked when he hit the water and let go of his corner. Rubio jumped into neck-deep water, grabbed the untended handle, pushed it above his head and calmly moved his patient ashore. They rushed their patient into one of the ambulances and a waiting First Class Corpsman said, “What are you doing? He’s going to die.”
Rubio felt the anger sweep through his body. He got in the guy’s face and said, “He’s alert and he knows where he’s at. Get his ass to the BAS.”
As the only corpsman for Wittnam’s boat company, Rubio made nearly every patrol along the Euphrates River during Operation Phantom Fury. He was awarded the Silver Star and a Purple Heart for his selfless contributions to the soldiers and Marines in his care. This is only one of several instances where Juan Rubio laid his life on the line. New Dawn will tell the full story of his heroism.
Hello all. Yesterday, I finished the manuscript of “New Dawn – the fight to free Fallujah.” My first great surprise was that my new publisher, Savas Beatie LLC, wanted me to send them a Word document. My last publisher, one of the largest in the world, insisted that I send them a single-sided, double-spaced, printed copy. They did not want the electronic copy. I think they still had a bunch of monks working by candlelight in the back room.
To be fair, Savas Beatie wants a printed copy too, but they started reviewing my manuscript immediately and I saved a bunch of money not having to FedEx three pounds of paper across the country overnight. So far, I am very happy with my new publisher.
I have to thank Nicholas Vuckovich and Gunny Nick Popaditch, author of Once a Marine, for helping me hook up with Ted Savas.
For those of you that have been following my adventure, you will remember that my old publisher refused to publish my Fallujah Book. LtCol Nicholas Vuckovich (ret) read my post about being turned down. I had interviewed him for the book, as he was the RCT-7 Operations Officer. He immediately sent me an email, offering his help.
LtCol Vuckovich knew Gunny Pop, and knew about his publisher. He hooked me up with Gunny Pop and I called him the next day. Nick Popaditch is a wonderful man. We talked for a half hour and he offered to place a copy of my book proposal into Ted Savas’ hand the following week.
To make a long story short, Ted Savas offered me a book deal and I eagerly accepted. He asked me how long it was going to take me to finish and I told him I thought I could be finished by 1 August. Ted wrote a 1 September deadline into the contract and I sent him the manuscript yesterday.
In the coming months, Ted and I will go through two or three editing cycles, select maps and photographs for the book and work to put together a marketing plan. Finishing the manuscript is just the completion of one of many steps in producing a best-seller.
Now, I have to put on my marketing hat. We are hoping to release New Dawn by Spring of next year. In my next post, I will return to telling some of the stories of the brave men who fought in Operation Phantom Fury. Keep watching for updates and tell all your friends to follow along too. I want to build an army of readers by next spring.
If the enemy waited for the Marines to approach, if they fired on the Marines when they came into view, artillery and mortars would be quick to respond – usually bringing the building crashing down around them. Then, there were the American snipers. They silently brought instant death. If the enemy remained inside and waited for the Marines and soldiers to get closer, they learned what it was like in Hell. Sixty millimeter mortar shells would rain down. M1 tanks would fire at point blank range. Fifty caliber and 7.62mm machine guns would spray their position. They would be pounded with 40mm grenades, AT4 rockets and Javelin missiles. If they waited until the Marines were on their doorstep, the Marines would swarm their position and not back off until everyone in the house was dead. Their only chance was to surrender or hunker down, hoping they would be bypassed.
I just received the signed contract in the mail. I will be publishing New Dawn - the fight to free Fallujah with Savas Beatie LLC, Home of Once a Marine. I have a 1 September deadline for a complete manuscript. So, you may not be hearing from me for the next few weeks.
I wanted you to know that my Fallujah book is back on track. I will be picking up this series in September. But, for now, I am going out to celebrate.
David C. Taylor and Citizens United Productions will soon be presenting a tribute to all the men and women who have served in the Iraq War in the documentary film – Perfect Valor. The world premiere will be on May 16th at the G.I. Film Festival in Washington D.C.
Walk with the soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines as they work to bring peace and stability to the people of Iraq and learn of some of the sacrifices made by our troops and their families. Roll from Nasiriyah to Fallujah and on to Western Anbar Province with America’s professional warriors and citizen soldiers to see how every corner of the American society has contributed to our recent success in Iraq.
Watch field surgeons and nurses struggling to save lives and a Navy Chaplin struggling to save souls. Experience the sacrifices of three Marines on the field of battle and their stoic families waiting at home.
This is a film that every American needs to see. It will touch your soul.
As those of you who have been following my progress already know, I have been working on my book proposal for NEW DAWN in recent weeks. Ten days ago, I received bad news.
After putting together a large proposal, I sent it to my literary agent who forwarded it to the people who published MARINES IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN, Berkley Caliber, New York. They spent several weeks before responding. They have declined to publish NEW DAWN at this time. They told my agent that “it is not big enough.” She inquired and they added that they didn’t think the market was big enough.
I spent the last week with my head in the toilet. I don’t write about the war for the money, but I have to survive. I am very disappointed that so many Americans refuse to pay attention to a war that will affect their future. I am disappointed that the American media would rather talk about celebrity babies than works of historical significance. (FoxNews, the “fair and balanced” channel won’t even respond to my correspondence). I am disappointed that the entire book publishing industry does nothing to promote books that tell the real story of what is happening in the war.
Yet, I have a duty to the brave soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines who risk their lives daily. I must tell their story. I will continue with this project. I will not succumb to public disinterest. I WILL tell their story.
I sent out my proposal too early. Money is getting tight in the Lowry household. I had hoped that I would get an advance to tide us over while I finished the book. I was certain that Berkley would pick up NEW DAWN. So, I sent it out with no writing sample. “Why should I?” I reasoned, “They have read my entire last book.” My agent insisted that I add a writing sample. So, I finished the introductory chapter and included it in the proposal.
That was a fatal error. I am trying to sell NEW DAWN as the story of the men and women who fought the battle of Fallujah, but there were no people in chapter one.
I have learned that I cannot rush the publishing process. I should listen to the Marines who fought in Fallujah. “Slow is smooth and smooth is fast.” I have decided to start my proposal over. I am currently working furiously to complete the stories of several of the heroes of the fight; Jeremiah Workman, Todd Desgrosseilliers, Christopher Adlesperger, and Jason Arellano. I will put their interlocking stories together, actually write the chapter, update my proposal and then I will have to start the search for a new publisher.
Now I must redouble my efforts to get back on track. I may be off the net for a while. I need to devote all my energies to the book. Thank you all for your support in the past.
Colonel Patrick Malay hails from a traditional western New York Irish-American family, with a long heritage of military service. His great uncle died in the trenches in World War I. His father and four uncles all served at various times in the military during World War II, Korea and Vietnam. His three older brothers have also served, or continue to serve their country in the Navy and Marine Corps. They are all cut from a similar bolt of cloth. Service to their country is an important tradition in the Malay family.
Pat Malay enlisted in the Marine Corps in May of 1981. Upon completion of recruit training at the Marine Corps Recruit Depot (MCRD), Parris Island, he was assigned to I Company, 25th Marines, USMCR, Buffalo, New York. After earning his Bachelors Degree in Sociology from the University of Buffalo in 1984, he was commissioned as a Second Lieutenant via the Platoon Leaders Course. He has served in the infantry, recon and light armored reconnaissance. He has instructed Marines in MOUT warfare techniques. Today, Colonel Malay is the Regimental Commander of the 5th Marine Regiment in western Anbar Province. But, in the summer of 2003, LtCol Malay had assumed command of 3/5. The Darkhorse Marines would be hard pressed to find a better battalion commander.
In 2003, the battalion moved into central Iraq to conduct what is known as Security and Stability Operations (SASO), following the charge to Baghdad. Malay became the military governor of Diwaniyah and the province was relatively quiet, but it wasn’t unusual to see the local civilians firing weapons into the sky during weddings and other celebrations. The gunfire was sparse and usually concentrated to a single point in the city.
When the people in this primarily Shia city learned of the death of Uday and Qusay Hussein, the celebrations started immediately. A trickle of shooting into the air quickly picked up to a volume of fire that Malay had not seen before or since. “If an airplane had flown over the city, it would have been shot to pieces.” One Marine was hit by a falling bullet, scores of people were injured in the city and some were killed by rounds coming back down to earth. As Malay watched the massive demonstration of celebratory gunfire emanating from Diwaniyah, he thought to himself that if that amount of fire were ever directed in anger at his Marines, the enemy would have shot the walls down and the Marines would have had everything they could do to get out of there alive. That was a mind-boggling thought, considering the amount of combat power available within a Marine infantry battalion. That night he thought to himself, “We have not seen the end of this yet.”
Haunted by the images of Diwaniyah, Patrick Malay had intently followed the rise in violence in Iraq. In early 2004, when he learned that his Marines would return to Iraq, he had a feeling in his gut that this next deployment was going to get ugly. He immediately began to prepare for another fight. The Darkhorse Marines trained from before dawn until after dark. Malay wanted to prepare his Marines as thoroughly as possible for what he knew would be a difficult deployment. First, they concentrated on the basics – assault, security and support. Malay believed in Ron Christmas’ mantra that attention to detail would save lives in urban fighting.
He stripped his infantry of their supporting arms. They trained without machine guns or rockets. Squad leaders prepared their Marines to fight as if they would be the only ones on the battlefield. They trained to fight as an independent team—no Marine ever making an uncovered move or operating alone. The Marines worked day and night to hone their basic infantry skills. Colonel Malay knew that the coming fight would be placed squarely on the shoulders of his infantry squads, so he initiated a qualification process for each of his squad leaders. He trained them, tested them and hand picked them. No one would lead a squad without first having proven his abilities to his peers and to Colonel Malay. Final approval only came after a personal interview.
When it came time to conduct their MOUT training, the Marine Corps’ training centers were strained to capacity. The Darkhorse Marines could not find a facility to conduct their urban warfare training. So, Pat Malay turned to Stu Segall Productions, San Diego’s only full-service TV and movie studio.
Pat Malay heard about this TV studio-turned-training-ground through some of his Marines. Malay met with Segall and soon his Marines were attending training exercises on Stu’s Mean Arab Street. Shockingly, Stu’s actors started out beating Malay’s Marines in the faux urban fights. A handful of actors and truck drivers repeatedly won the firefights. The shock of Stu’s actors defeating Malay’s Marines could have caused a lesser leader to discontinue the exercises, but it only made Malay, and his staff, stand up and take note. The Darkhorse Marines could learn much in this environment. So, Colonel Malay expanded the training at the studio. Soon, everyone in the battalion was included.
Stu broke out his make-up artists and amputee-actors. He found Iraqi immigrants who lived in the San Diego area and together they created Hyper-Realistic environments where the Marines had to deal with distressed civilians, gruesome casualties and enemy fighters, all at once. Some of the Marines did not do well under the pressure of the exercises, others excelled. Assignments were adjusted, Marines who excelled, Like Corporal Terrence vanDoorn, were given additional responsibilities and those who didn’t get it were moved to where they were better suited.
Soon, the Darkhorse Marines were running scenarios and winning. Squads and fire teams were moving through the urban environment on muscle memory. They were dealing with insurgent fighters, civilians and casualties in a professional manner. They could adjust to situational changes with little or no conversation. The squads and fire teams worked in concert with only a nod or hand gesture commanding a change in focus. Stu Segall’s facility provided the venue to hone Malay’s Marines into an urban fighting unit. The training psychologically prepared them for what they were going to see. Malay credits this training for saving uncountable Marine lives.
Having prepared as best they could, the Marines on 3/5 returned to Iraq in September. Lead elements began arriving in Camp Fallujah on the 10th of September but most of the Marines left San Diego on September 11th. The entire battalion was in place by the 14th and they quickly started relieving Greg Olson’s 2/1 Marines, veterans of the first Fallujah fight. It was ‘game on’ from day-one for the Dark Horse Marines. They immediately assumed responsibility for TCP-1 and twenty-two miles of MSR MOBILE as they began detailed planning for their participation in the fight to free Fallujah.
Colonel Malay recently reflected on his planning philosophy,
"You got to plan and then you create an order. You tell the men what to do, not how to do it. You push that stewardship and empowerment – that decision-making – down to the lowest level and give them their boundaries, give them an end state and then turn them loose. They will usually do stuff much, much better than you would have ever envisioned."
Colonel Malay and his Marines’ participation in the fight in Fallujah was essential to the success in clearing the city. Soon, I will post Part II of this discussion on the 3d Battalion, 5th Marines. The entire story will be in “New Dawn.”
Colonel Michael Shupp is a VMI graduate. Currently, he is the legislative assistant to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. But, in November of 2004, Colonel Shupp was the commander of Regimental Combat Team-1. I recently interviewed Colonel Shupp about his participation in the fight to free Fallujah. We spoke for over four hours.
I have been transcribing his interviews this week and I came across a portion of the interview that I want to share with you all:
We had been talking in his Washington D.C. office for nearly an hour. We had already covered the preparations for battle and RCT-1's initial thrust into the northwest section of Fallujah, when the subject of the Iraqi forces came up. In April, 2004, Iraqi forces broke and ran before they ever reached the fight in Fallujah.
The November fight would be different. This would be the first time the new Iraqi Army would fight alongside American forces against the thugs and insurgents who were bringing chaos to their country. The interview picks up here with Colonel Shupp speaking:
As we brought the Iraqi forces into the city along HENRY, I could tell they were scared. Our regimental staff went to the lead of the formation and greeted them and marched them into the city. I wanted them to see that we were all going to be together. Their brigade commander was with me. We walked them into their position.
With Jim Rainey's Bradley's there, it was the perfect mission for them. They put up barriers, concertina. They put up tetrahedrons and they blocked HENRY - that whole eastern side of the city. Nothing could come across. It was isolating my flank for me. They did a magnificent job. I couldn't have been happier with them.
The Bradleys gave them the courage they needed...They had been given two weeks of training in Baghdad, before they were sent to us. What would I do to those young people, if I were to have put them out there in a fight like that? I would have been just putting them out for the slaughter. I couldn't do it. So, I gave them a mission they could do with their abilities.
Me: And something you actually needed?
Right.
Now, here is a true leader. He was concerned about his Marines, his soldiers and the Iraqi soldiers under his command. He worked diligently to give all his units assignments for which they were suited - then he led them from the front.
You will hear much, much more about Colonel Michael Shupp in my book. For now, I wanted to give you all some insight into the fantastic leadership during Operation al Fajr. Colonel Shupp was not alone. Later, I will introduce LtCol Pat Malay, Major Todd Desgrosseilliers, Captain Dan Wirttnam, Lt. Edward Iwan and many, many more.
December 12, 2004 changed Jason and Lindsey Arellano’s lives forever. U.S. Marine Sergeant Jason R Arellano, 3rd Battalion, 5th Marines, Kilo Company, 2nd Platoon’s third squad leader found himself in Iraq for the second time. He had last seen American soil on September 11, 2004, leaving his loved ones in prayer and anticipation. Jason and Lindsey recently shared the following write-up with me after I contacted him to request an interview for my book. Jason told me that they wanted to write it all down before the memories faded. Hopefully, they will gather other stories of that fateful day and publish a book of their own. No doubt, I will tell Sergeant Jason Arellano’s story, but this poignant tale will be left for their telling.
This story is one that is not often told. Everyone knows of the heroism of our soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines in far off lands, but few take the time to consider how difficult it is for loved ones waiting at home. Jason is a hero, but it is Lindsey’s story that will touch you. On December 12, 2004, Jason and Lindsey already knew that they were meant to be together, but neither could have ever contemplated how this day would change their lives.
Please take a few moments to read about December 12, 2004, captured in Jason and Lindsey’s own words.
It had only been a few months since his departure and already 3rd Squad had accomplished so much. On the morning of December 12th they had moved from the western part of the city known as the Jolan District to the eastern part of the city known as east Manhattan to the Marines. This was not just any city; it was known as Iraq’s most dangerous city and quickly became a major battleground of the Iraqi insurgency, Al Fallujah. Arellano was part of the offensive, better known as Operation Phantom Fury, which had begun just one month earlier in a maze of houses and alleys. At this point, Third Battalion of the Fighting Fifth had already suffered ten Marines who had paid the ultimate sacrifice. The next eleven days of fierce battle would almost double that number.
Third Squad had reached a house in east Manhattan just north of highway 10, which is the same highway that four American contractors from a Blackwater Security Consulting Company had been brutally murdered. Two of these contractors mutilated, charred bodies were later hung from a bridge that crossed the Euphrates on the west side of town. Shortly after noon, the squad received word that they were done clearing houses for now and were to set up a defensive position in a school less than 300-400 meters to the north. Third Platoon was still clearing in zone just to 2nd Platoon’s left from south to north. The Marines had done this many times before, setting up positions in various locations. Surrounded by his closest friends, Arellano and his fellow Marines patrolled the street heading west; hit the corner, and proceeded northward. As soon as the group arrived at the school, Arellano along with Sergeant Coduto, Corporal Herren, and the platoon commander Lieutenant Moulder went to the roof to get orientated. The days had been warm but the nights were very cold, so the Marines moved south to gather some blankets. Arellano and his fellow Marines hadn’t been at the school for five minutes when gunfire erupted nearby.
The gunfire started to escalate. Arellano told the guys, “that’s our Marines in contact” and ran straight to the fight. He ran past Amphibious Assault Vehicles (AAV’s) and CAAT HMMWVs, pointing and yelling for them to turn around. As he got to the corner, he saw Lance Corporal Layer being pulled out from a courtyard. As Arellano approached, Layer informed him that he had been shot and said that there were more guys inside the house; friendly and foe. This is the house where Corporal Ian W. Stewart was mortally wounded. By now, Arellano was pumped. Marines to his north were shooting down from their rooftop positions. He caught the attention of Corporal Clairday by yelling at the top of his lungs, “Where are they at, Clairday?” Clairday pointed downward and continued to fire onto the rooftop and into the alley bellow, Arellano would later find out his good friend Corporal Jason S. Clairday was killed in action along with Lance Corporal Hilario F. Lopez.
So, for Sergeant Arellano this it were it began. After teaming up with other Leathernecks to clear a couple of houses, passing dead insurgents and wounded Marines, the Kilo Marines continued in the attack. Arellano ran out of one courtyard into the street. He quickly moved along the wall to enter the gate. He saw a Marine laying on the ground and wondered why there was no Corpsman aiding him. Gunfire continued to erupt and Arellano realized that Sergeant Jeffry L. Kirk was already gone.
Arellano continued to the roof to link up with his platoon commander. Moulder ordered him into the house next door where there were more insurgents. Arellano understood what had to be done, but he was concerned about his men. The Sergeant took a moment to scan the scene, searching for his squad. Lt. Moulder, thinking Arellano had not heard his order, told him again to get into that house. Marines were everywhere. Arellano turned, “You, you, you and you, come with me.”
The Marines hurried down the stairs to assault the neighboring house. By now, one of the CAAT HMMWV’s had turned and was parked in the street. Arellano checked to make sure that no Marines were inside the house, and then he told the CAAT gunner to pepper the house with 40mm grenades. The gunner opened fire with his MK19 automatic grenade launcher. Thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk. The grenades slammed into the building.
Arellano and his Marines followed the grenades into the courtyard. It was just after three o’clock. Lance Corporal William “red neck” Lenard and Arellano made their entry to the house and both threw grenades into opposite rooms. Realizing there were only four Marines present, the two yelled for more support. Arellano was first to approach the stairs when another Sergeant told him that he had seen an insurgent on the second floor through a window. Arellano moved toward the stairwell on which Staff Sergeant Melvin L. Blazer, husband and father of two, had just been mortally wounded. M16 pointed up, Arellano began to climb the stairs – backwards. Another Marine followed and threw a grenade up top. As soon as that grenade went off, Arellano went up and toward the path of least resistance. Another Marine followed directly behind Arellano.
***
December 12, 2004 in Kansas City was a crisp cool day. It had been a little over a week since there had been contact with Jason, which at this point was normal. Lindsey carried the phone in her pocket 24/7 and was hopeful to hear from him today. It was Sunday and if he called it was almost always on a Sunday. It was a blessing that they had communicated this much. She had feared it would be like Jason’s last deployment. During his first tour in Iraq, hand written letters were the only way to stay in touch. It took weeks to receive them. This time was different, not only was he able to call more often but email was accessible as well. It was much easier to work through the thought of eight months apart one week at a time. And each day was one day closer to seeing him again. Today began just like every day, in prayer for Jason. Reading through Psalms, Lindsey received renewed strength and faith that God was sovereign. But today, her heart was heavy. Extra heavy and she spent extra time in prayer and journaling. Throughout the day she could not get Jason off of her mind.
***
On the other side of the world, Jason and the other Marine pressed forward, moving past a doorway on their right and toward the room straight ahead. The two men moved swiftly. Smoke filled the house from the previous grenades and rounds chipping at the walls, but objects were still visible. Once the pair made entry, Arellano shot areas where the insurgent could be hiding. Bullets ripped into each corner of the room, through a bed, and splintered a row of standup wooden dressers. The Marines shouted “Clear left! Clear Right! Room Clear!” Nada!
Arellano grabbed a grenade to throw into the room the two men had just run past. He shouted to the Marines making their way up the stairway what he was about to do, however another Marine shouted back that he was coming into Arellano’s room. Arellano, grenade in hand, made way for him. As the Marine rushed past the open room, he threw his own grenade into the other room.
“Frag out!”
Arellano’s pin was already pulled from his grenade. Once the other Marine was safely in his room, Arellano tossed his grenade into the back of the other room. Arellano screamed “Frag out!” only 2 to 3 seconds after the first grenade.
Arellano was sure that the guys outside were unaware that two grenades had been thrown into the room. The three Marines scrambled for cover and backed away from the doorway. Once a grenade detonates, the Marines are trained to rush into the smoke filled room to finish off their adversaries. Arellano feared that the Marines on the stairwell would charge the room after the first grenade went off. With only a split second remaining, Arellano had to take action. “BOOM!” As soon as the first grenade went off these well trained Marines did just what Arellano predicted. They started for the door. Sergeant Arellano ran to the doorway, to stop them. Glancing over, he saw the grenade in the room.
“How could this be?” Jason thought. “Did the insurgents toss his grenade back toward the door? Had it bounced off something in the room or had the first explosion blown his grenade into the open? No time now to wonde… “BOOM!”
Arellano saw everything clearly, the curtains rose in the room from the concussion. Smoke came through each crevice in the bricks joined by sparks from the flesh tearing fragmentation coming through the wall that separated them. The loud boom seemed to continue to echo and everything became slow motion. The explosion spun Arellano onto his hands and knees in his own world. He was certain he was deaf. Had he saved his Marines? He had, he had kept them from the door and taken the brunt of the blast.
“I’m hit, I’m hit!” A Marine approached and told him that he was okay. Arellano tried to move around and his palms slipped in a pool of his own blood. Dazed, breathing hard, and feeling weak, Arellano told the Marine “What do you mean I am good, can’t you see I am bleeding to death?” Arellano felt the blood coming from his neck and others rushed to try to help him to his feet. Arellano crumpled like a rag doll, as he lost feeling in his legs. It was as though he was being electrocuted, the pain was excruciating, but he tried to remain as calm as possible. He tried to help as other Marines removed his flak jacket.
Arellano, bleeding, needed to be taken out for medical attention. But, the house was not yet clear. The fight raged on. You got to love these Marines, it was straight organized confusion, but they got the job done! They cleared the house and hoisted their wounded sergeant to carry him to safety. He was dead weight. Arellano couldn’t do much to help as he was dragged down the stairs. Moaning in pain, Arellano watched the wall, then the ceiling, more Marines rushing into the house and finally the dingy grey sky.
He could still hear gunfire and the Corpsman came to him as he was laid near the street. It was beautiful to be outside. Arellano reached up and held on to “rednecks” hand as they checked him out. Lenard told him of some of the injuries and joked that they were going to have to put a tourniquet on his neck. Arellano managed to joke back and tell him that it better be done as tight as possible. He tried to keep his attention on “redneck” as the Corpsman cut away the trousers to assess the damage. Despite the heat, Arellano felt cold. The Marines carried his half naked bleeding body to the AAV which would carry him off to Bravo, a surgical unit outside of Fallujah. Lying on a center bench, Arellano looked into the sky and asked the Lord if this was it. He reached to his chest were his dog tags and cross were and grabbed them. He pictured his family, what they were doing at that moment, and Lindsey’s beautiful face. He wondered if he would ever get to see that beautiful face again. He knew in his heart that he did not have to die for his friends and family to be proud of him, he knew that they already were.
There were a handful of Marines in the vehicle with various injuries. He could hear the loud engine and would occasionally catch eye of the wounded. First Sergeant Knox was at his side and gave comforting words to the cold Marine. Arellano told the Corpsman to stop giving him morphine; he wanted to feel some pain so that he did not slip away. He needed to be able to fight for his life. Moans and groans followed every bump in the road. Arellano heard the men radio ahead that he was to be the first off and that medical staff was waiting on standby.
After all of the hard work of those who fought by his side, those who evacuated him, aided him, and operated on him, he was now waking up from the first of a half dozen surgeries. Looking up he saw Lieutenant Colonel Malay and Sergeant Major Resto checking the wounded. They told Arellano and the other wounded Marines that they had fought a good fight but that not all had made it out alive. Then the Sergeant Major read the names of those who had fallen. Arellano closed his eyes and wept.
***
Lindsey had been extremely busy at work with Christmas just around the corner. Constant emails and phone calls added to the jam packed workload. Monday was a day full of computer work, correspondence and chaos. Sorting through emails, she ignored the ring of her cell phone. Now was not the time to talk if she wanted to get through her list for the day. Everyone knew she couldn’t talk when she was at work anyways. Except her parents, who often called to chit chat in the morning. Today was not the day for chit chatting. They had already missed the deadline for the internet and now there was a lot of pressure to work as quickly as possible. The ring was loud and annoying. Just to be sure that it was in fact her family; she glanced into her purse to check the caller ID. Odd, the area code was different, vaguely familiar, but different. Who in the world would be calling her from a strange area code? She had been a hermit recently, often working 12 hour days, which diminished friendships. With just enough time to turn her attention back to the computer, the phone rang again. Peeking down she saw the same area code but a different number. What in the world? Who was calling her? Well, maybe they would leave a message. Ignoring the ring she continued to type. Today was just not the day for extra interruptions.
She shoved the phone into her desk drawer to muffle the sound. However, the narrow drawer only echoed the vibration indicating that there was in fact a voicemail. Getting up to use the restroom, she felt the dog tags clink around her neck. She gently rested her hand upon them and grinned wondering where he was today. “Lord, please be with him today and strengthen him, send your angels to protect him!” The tags had been a reminder to pray. Throughout the day whenever she heard or felt them, she smiled and went to the Lord to ask for protection and strength. She returned to her desk to hear that familiar ring tone. This was the third time in a row and it was beginning to get a little creepy. Nobody called her this often. The fifth time around fear struck.
Lindsey flung the desk drawer open. Lit up in bright blue letters she read the name that put it all into perspective – Jaime. Suddenly it all made sense. All this time, how could she have been so ignorant? Fear slapped her and she paused in hesitation. All of the numbers were from New Mexico – Jason’s family.
It was the moment she had prayed against obsessively. Silence followed along with the shock. Thirty seconds may have passed but her heart stood still as the realization sank in. Staring at the phone wide eyed, she nervously bit at her fingers. No. Not now. How could this be happening?
The fear of the unknown was paralyzing. She didn’t want to find out, didn’t want to know. Why did this have to be happening? She inhaled deeply. This couldn’t happen. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. It was never supposed to happen this way.
What was she talking about? Nobody ever promised a perfect ending. She never knew how it was going to end and more than ever she needed to know what was going on. She had to know what happened! She grabbed the phone so quickly it slipped between her hands and fell to the ground. The tags around her jingled and she wrapped her fingers around them tightly. She had to know everything, no matter how hard it might be and Jaime would tell her everything. She dialed Jaime as quickly as she could.
Pressing the phone against her ear, her heart raced. Jaime’s voice was calm and collected as she answered the phone with a simple question. “Have you heard?”
The lump crawling up her throat almost gagged her. “No. Tell me.”
There was a slight pause and she knew it had to be hard for Jaime to break such horrible news to one of her best friends. Jaime and Lindsey had been friends for years. Both of the girls were from the same town and attended the same church and youth group in high school. However, it wasn’t until the girls ended up at the same private University that they grew to be best friends. The two had been through a lot together and when Jaime married Isaac two years ago, Lindsey had stood in their wedding. Isaac and Jason were cousins, he too stood in the wedding, and Lindsey would actually stand next to the man that would change her life. It was at that altar on October 26 that Lindsey met Jason.
The chemistry had been obvious and after the wedding they spent the entire evening talking and telling stories about their personal lives before he had to fly back to the Marine Corps base at Camp Pendleton. Lindsey had presumed that would be the end of the spark. Fortunately, she was wrong. Jason began writing letters right away and the relationship developed.
“Jason has been shot.”
Silence followed the striking statement. The shock of that single phrase crippled her body. “I don’t know the details; just that he has been shot.”
Lindsey’s heart dropped into her stomach as she lost all words and lost all reason. Her words were jumbled as she stuttered and stumbled through them before quickly hanging up the phone with the promise to relay important information. Fingers shaking, she dialed his mother. Two rings, three rings, no answer. She tried his brother. Three rings, four rings, no answer. These were the people that had just been calling her. Why weren’t they answering their phones? Where were they? She dialed his father. Four rings, five rings, no answer. This was not possible. How could she receive this critical information and not be able to find anything else out. Surely some one knew something. Someone had to know. Justin would tell her. She dialed his brother again. Five rings, six rings, no answer. She couldn’t be left hanging like this. What was she supposed to do? Sit and wait? She could barely sit still with her knees and hands shaking. She pressed against the tags and tried to breath. What was his mother doing? Why wasn’t her phone on her? This was all crazy! She dialed his mother one more time. Ring after ring and still no answer. This was insane. Was she losing her mind? Was she dialing the wrong numbers? Lord, please let someone answer! Again, she dialed his father and decided to leave a message. “Danny, this is Lindsey. I just got a phone call and I would love to talk to you and find out more about what’s going on.” She hung up the phone and sat alone in this bare small office staring at the wall.
There was complete silence and shock. Was this even real? Was it a dream? How could this be happening? Breathe Lindsey, breathe. Blood was coursing through her body and heat began to rise up her neck. Small beads of sweat broke on her forehead. There was nothing to do but sit and wait. Her heart began to race faster and faster and it echoed in her ears as the room was still silent.
The startling ring briefly stopped her heart. It was his stepmother, Trudy, whom she had never met. Trudy returned the call and verified Jaime’s news. He had in fact been shot, probably in the leg but that was all they knew. No other word, but he had been shot. Nobody knew if he was alive, dead, or dying, but he had been shot. Lindsey could only imagine the graphic details. Slamming the phone shut and tossing it onto her desk, she dropped her head into her hands. From the depths of her soul tears erupted and flooded her flushed face. With the lack of detail, much was left to the imagination. How? Where? When? Would he survive? Would he lose any limbs? Would he be paralyzed? Was he being taken care of? Was he in pain? Was he conscious? Minutes went by with no movement and barely any breath. Muted moaning was all that broke through the tears as Lindsey clasped her hand over her mouth.
The ring of her cell phone startled her. “We just found out he wasn’t shot. He was actually hit with a grenade. They are taking him to Germany and that is all that I know.” Conversation trailed off and she tossed her phone into her purse.
In complete haste and shock she grabbed her keys. The large dark sunglasses couldn’t hide the black streaks running down her cheek and neck. Without a word to anyone she jumped into her car and began driving, with tears and mascara clouding her sight. Hy-Vee grocery store was just across the street and she raced around the corner into the lot and threw the car into park. All alone with nobody in sight, she wept. The truth was too much to handle. From deep within her soul, she mourned.
They had talked about this for the past year. They knew that there was a good possibility of injury or death and still nothing could have prepared her for the news today. The last conversation that they had face-to-face was in the airport terminal, as Jason waited for his flight three days before departing to Iraq. With tear strung eyes he embraced her and drew her in close. “Whatever happens over there, just know that I will always be with you, watching over you.”
The words replayed in her mind and she hit the steering wheel. Overcome with grief she sat alone in her car and cried out to God at the top of her lungs, “Jesus!” “Lord we need you!!!” All else was silent above her gasps for breath. “Lord God, Please!” Her head dropped to the steering wheel as the burdened heart grew weak. It was just so much to take in at once. “Jesus!” It was the only words she could form, the name of the Lord. “Jesus.”
An hour went by and still no word. Rolling the windows down, the cool December air felt fresh on her red hot face. She needed to start a prayer chain. When there was a need there was one person she knew to call who would drop everything go before the Lord – her mother. Quickly she dialed the phone.
“Mom.” Her mother immediately recognized the panic in her daughter’s voice.
“What?”
“I need you to pray.” Tears exploded and the words seemed jumbled but somehow she managed to convey the news. “It’s Jason…He’s been hit with a grenade.” Immediately her mother began to call on the name of the Lord asking for healing and peace.
The rest of the evening was a blur. She had left work and gone home early only to pace the room in a fog. Continually she tried to get a hold of his family and around 10 in the evening she finally spoke with his mother. The two cried together and promised to pray and stay in touch if there was any news. The entire evening was spent on her knees and as she finally fell asleep after midnight, there still had been no word on the status of Jason. Millions of questions and concerns had danced through her mind. Obviously with no facts, Lindsey presumed the worse. Wherever he was, she was prepared to hop on a plane the next day. If she had to fly to Germany, she would. It was a desperate time of fighting for the life of the man that she loved. Exhausted and emotionally drained, she fell asleep trusting that the Lord was sovereign.
At 6:00 am the phone startled her. Immediately she knew it had to be important information. Good or bad, she had to know. She flipped the light on… “hello?” It was the sweetest sound she could have possibly imagined. Somehow on the other side of the world Jason whispered back, “Hello.”
Sweet relief came flooding. He was alive. That was all that mattered. She knew they could work out anything else. He was alive and he was able to talk and she immediately thanked the Lord.
It would be three weeks, several surgeries and many plane flights before the two would see each other face-to-face. Only by the pure grace of God, they both survived the emotional trauma. Jason was hit by a grenade receiving shrapnel throughout his body, some barely missing his jugular artery. He had also been shot in the groin. The bullet barely missed his femoral artery, bones and joints. It was their faith, determination, and the hand of the Lord that has brought Jason through with no permanent injuries. Despite the fears and rumors, Jason is able to walk and surprised Doctor’s by his miraculous recovery.
He is often told how lucky he is to have survived, Jason is quick to say that luck had nothing to do with it, he is blessed. The Lord really does work in mysterious ways, “He has a plan for each and every one of you.”
Through the pain and suffering, so much has come to pass for Lindsey and Jason. They continue to seek the Lord in their decision making and pray for the Lord to use them in ways they never dreamed. The events of December 12, 2004 have forever changed their lives and their perspectives. The Corps lost five awesome Marines that day and those who continue to wear the Eagle, Globe, and Anchor continue to fight and risk their lives for American freedoms. Let us never forget our fallen.
Hello all! I have been working hard, trying to get my book proposal finished and sent out to my agent. I have done one final tweak on my introductory paragraph:
[book title] is the story of the kids who grew up down the block then flew half way around the world to fight in the battle that changed the war. Operation Phantom Fury was the beginning of the end for al-Qaeda in Iraq and a life-changing experience for those who were there. Richard Lowry will place you among the brave men and women who fought a determined enemy at the crossroads of civilization. This is the story of their courage, sacrifice and valor.
I think this is how it will stay. I have also labored over the next page of the proposal. The Synopsis is also very important. It must summarize the book in a single page.
One-hundred twenty Americans lost their lives in the fight to clear Iraq’s most dangerous city. Hundreds more were wounded. The soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines who fought in Fallujah will never forget facing a tenacious enemy in the largest urban fight since Hue City.
Richard embarks on the most difficult project of his career in telling the story of the joint effort to clear Fallujah. This is no ordinary historical account. Richard documents the battle for military historians, provides eyewitness accounts, and supplies detailed background never found anywhere. He weaves a page-turning story that will educate and entertain in a style reminiscent of Cornelius Ryan’s Longest Day.
[book title] opens with the brutal murder, burning, and beheading of four Blackwater security contractors, followed by the aborted first assault and tense standoff of the spring and summer of 2004. After an introductory account of Fallujah’s significance throughout Iraq’s turbulent history, Richard goes on to familiarize the reader with the planning process and preparations for battle. Then, [book title] tells the complete story of the massive American attack in November and eventual repatriation of the city.
Richard takes the reader down the narrow city streets and into the courtyards, kitchens and bedrooms of Fallujah. Venture into the unknown as young Marines kick in hundreds of thousands of doors, never knowing if they will be greeted by an incensed insurgent or a cowering Iraqi family. No other work tells as complete a story of the largest battle of Operation Iraqi Freedom. [book title] will remain the definitive reference and a damn-good read for years to come.
The proposal continues with a Market Analysis, Competition, and Biography. Then, I have attached the book's table of contents, followed by an outline, bibliography, and some photographs.
As part of my research, I have been collecting photographs, many taken by the participants. I have picked a few of my favorites to share with everyone. This is a small sampling of nearly five-hundred photographs that I have already collected.
If you have any photographs of Fallujah, please contact me. I am interested in seeing them.
This is where it all started. In late March of 2004, a small convoy was attacked in the city and four Blackwater security contractors were killed. Their bodies were burned, beaten and hung from the foot bridge that crossed the Euphrates River, west of the city. The Marines dubbed it the “Brooklyn Bridge.”
This is the best photograph I have of the Brooklyn Bridge. In the background, you can see the green-topped minaret of one of the larger mosques in the city.
Looking into Fallujah from west of the Euphrates River.
Photo by Major Ken Kassner, USMC
Rob Bodisch's tanks led the Marines of Regimental Combat Team - 1 into the city.
Captain Rob Bodisch USMC, Comanche 6, Company C Commander, 2d Tank Battalion.
Photo by Sgt William H. Hayes III, USMC
This was Captain Bodisch and Sgt Hayes' view as they led the advance into Fallujah.
Point of the Spear – tanks led the way down Fallujah’s deserted streets
Photo by Sgt William H. Hayes III, USMC
Marines advanced with Bodisch's tanks in the lead. The infantry was able to protect the tank while the tanks provided overwhelming firepower to support the Marines on the ground.
Marines moving building-to-building.
Photo by Sgt William H. Hayes III, USMC
The city was divided into north-south and east-west Phase Lines. Henry ran the complete length of the city, from the "Queens" stronghold in the south to the train station in the north. Henry had been designated as the Regimental boundary between RCT-1 and RCT-7. Here, tanks and Bradleys from the Army's 2nd Battalion, 7th Cavalry Regiment are standing overwatch along Henry, in the southern part of the city.
Phase Line Henry
Photo by Sgt William H. Hayes III, USMC
As the Marines methodically swept through Fallujah from north to south, the Army's 2-2 Mechanized Infantry Battalion rolled south on the eastern edge of the city in their M1s and Bradley Fighting Vehicles.
Soldiers of 2-2 Infantry
US Army Combat Photograph
While the Army and Marines cleared the city, the Marine Small Craft Company patrolled the Euphrates River to deny the enemy one of their prime escape routes.
Small Craft Company at the “Brooklyn Bridge”
Photo by HM2 Juan Rubio, USN
After the fight, Major General Richard Natonski (left), 1st Marine Division Commanding General, visited the commanding officer of the 1st Cavalry's Black Jack Brigade, Colonel Mike Formica (right). The Marine Corps had petitioned the Army to allow all the soldiers who participated in the fight to wear the 1st Marine Division patch as an official combat patch.
So, as a show of solidarity, General Natonski wore a 1st Cav patch when visiting Formica and his troopers. The Marine Corps does not wear unit patches on their uniforms, so they have no Velcro on their shoulders. Notice that Natonski had to staple the patch in place.
A Joint Success
Official USMC Photograph
I have been thinking about my hook for a while now. I listened to all your comments and tried to improve on the first draft.
Editors and the people that will see my proposal get hundreds of these things a week. I want to suck the editor in, even if I must use “mindless fluff.” The hook will stand alone on the first page of my proposal. THE ONLY purpose of the hook is to get the editor to turn the page. Editors see so many proposals that the vast majority are set aside before page two.
My second page will be a single-page synopsis of the book. I think that the synopsis is even more important than the hook. Here, again, in a single page, I must show how I am going to deliver on my promise; I must describe the book. The sole purpose of the synopsis is to get the reader to turn the page – again. Lots more proposals end up in the circular file after the synopsis is read.
Okay, now I hope to have the reader hooked on my story. I have shown him/her that I can captivate a reader and that I know how to write a "page turner." If the editor goes on, I have scored big points – in just two short pages.
This is where the “mindless fluff” concept is critically important. I must entice the editor in a couple of sentences. My hook must be captivating, but not mindless. My hook must make a promise that I can prove I will deliver on within the pages of the book. So, I have been molding my hook and rewriting. It still may need a little tweaking, but think it is better now:
“[Book Title - the fight for Fallujah is the story of the kids down the block who went off to fight in the battle that changed the war in Iraq. Operation Phantom Fury was the beginning of the end for al-Qaeda in Iraq and a life-changing event for those who were there. Richard Lowry will place you among these brave men and women who fought a determined enemy at the crossroads of civilization. This is a story of courage, sacrifice and valor.”
Please feel free to comment. I need all the help I can get. And, stay tuned for the Synopsis. I am about three drafts into completing the single most important page of the writing project.
In the spring of 2003, the All Americans of the 82nd Airborne Division were given the mission of securing the wild-west town of Fallujah, thirty miles west of Baghdad. They never had enough combat power to clear the city of an increasing number of enemy fighters. On April 28, 2003 a protest within the city turned violent and 15 Iraqis were killed, further inflaming the population. The increasing violence throughout the summer and fall of 2003 prompted the American commanders to withdraw their forces to a series of camps outside the city. Fallujah became a safe haven and rallying point for hardened Saddam supporters, former Ba’ath party leaders, Republican Guard, Iraqi Army diehards and, finally, Islamic fundamentalists. LtGen Richard Natonski characterized the enemy in the city in a recent interview. “These were hardcore insurgents who wanted nothing more than to kill Americans.”
The lightly-armed paratroopers developed a ‘Fort Apache’ mentality – only venturing into the city in heavily armored groups. They had no idea how to deal with a civilian population that was heavily tied to centuries of local tribe and clan loyalties. The troopers were completely unprepared to deal with the people of Fallujah. If they had understood the people and their history, they might have made better headway.
Fallujah is an ancient crossroads and Euphrates River crossing, connecting Saudi Arabia in the south with Syria and Turkey in the north. The main east-west road connects Baghdad with Amman, Jordan. Highway 10 is Iraq’s oldest and most important commercial artery, connecting Iraq to the western world.
Throughout recorded history, Fallujah has been contested. In the 18th Century B.C., Hammurabi expanded his Babylonian empire when he acquired the ancient city of Sippar (Sippar was roughly in the same geographic location as modern-day Fallujah). During the 1st Century AD, the Romans, Trojans, Arabs and Persians all fought at one time or another for control of what is now known as Fallujah. When the Mongol hordes laid waist to Baghdad in 1258, Iraq’s economy fell into ruin. Iraq’s civilization lay dormant for centuries, until the Iraqi people were conquered by the Ottomans in the 16th Century. Control over the Fertile Crescent flip-floped back and forth between the Ottomans and the Persians for hundreds of years until the Turks reasserted their rule in the early 1800s.
After the Ottoman Empire sided with the Prussians in World War I, England fought a series of battles with the Turks along the Euphrates River valley. With the Allied Victory, the British occupied what is now known as Iraq and in 1920 they faced continued resistance uncannily similar to what America experienced in the months following the 2003 invasion. Fallujah, the divided city, was one of the flashpoints. The British learned quickly that reconciliation was the key to success in this ancient land. “Fallujah had become the symbol of the resistance and had to become the symbol of the reconciliation process.” So, the British worked to woo the tribal and clan leaders. Fallujah soon became a model for the nation. As a symbol of national pride, the British selected Fallujah as the site for the coronation of the new, pro-British, leader, King Fiasal.
Throughout its turbulent history; daily life, business and government have all revolved around the families, clans and tribes of Anbar. These rugged people depend heavily upon one another to survive in an austere environment. Their ancestors learned that the only way to endure through the blistering summers, whimsical shifts in the Euphrates River, and even more whimsical changes in government, was by helping each other. There is no more loyal a people, yet they are radically independent and distrusting of outside interests. Fallujah has been run by clans and tribes for as long as can be remembered.
The largest tribe in the area is the Jumayla with their lands mainly to the east of the city. The Abu Issa tribe, in the south, had the largest population within the city. The western tribe, the Al Muhamadi competed with Abu Issa for control of Fallujah. However, the most prominent tribal leader was Sheik Abdullah Al Janabi. His tribe was the most hostile to the Americans and he was the self-proclaimed leader of the city’s governing Shura Council.
Because of its location, Fallujah has long been a hub of commerce and trade, both legal and illegal. The Euphrates River cuts a swath through the Iraqi wasteland bringing life-giving water to the Fertile Crescent. Vast barren plains lie to the north, east and west of the city. The river and roads are thoroughfares of trade.
With the ever-shifting political climate, the tribes and clans have had little regard for the artificial international boundaries. To the people of Anbar, smuggling is all in a day’s work. So, Fallujah is peppered with trucking industry businesses. Flatbeds and large trucks continually clogged the main road. Truck stops, machine shops and junkyards dominated the industrial area. If you needed a tire changed, a chassis welded or a new radio in your truck, Fallujahans stood ready to provide the service. Once the Americans arrived, the city had the talent and resources to turn to a new industry – the manufacture of IEDs and the smuggling of weapons.
The main thoroughfare contained a mixture of luxurious mansions, multi-storied concrete buildings, small shops and mud brick and concrete shanties – BMWs, donkey carts and long-haul trucks. More large mansions and estates lined the banks of the Euphrates River, west of the city on the fat peninsula known to Marines as the “Shark’s Fin.” Throughout the city, there were middle class and poor neighborhoods, mosques, open fields and areas which contained richly appointed homes.
Fallujah, like most Iraqi cities, was a city of cinder blocks. Nearly every building was surrounded by a wall. Some walls had been meticulously constructed, obviously the work of a mason who took pride in his work. Others were thrown together in a helter-skelter fashion and many had the look of the repetitive cycle of destruction, repair, more destruction and hasty re-assembly. Blocks were stacked upon blocks with no mortar, just waiting to be pushed over again. Most houses were small, one or two story buildings with concrete slab floors and thick roofs. Some compound walls sheltered large homes with landscaped courtyards, marble floors and ornate furnishings.
Fallujah’s homes were built to shelter their residents from the sweltering heat of the Iraqi summers and the continuous cycle of senseless violence. Concrete walls and roofs were sometimes three feet thick, with another three feet of dirt piled on the flat roofs. They were veritable bunkers. Most courtyard doors were made of sheet metal with two or three locks. Interior courtyard doors leading into homes were either metal or wooden. The wooden doors were usually protected by a locked metal gate. Fallujah could not have been more attractive to the resistance. The population was distrusting of outsiders and naturally rebellious. Its workers provided the where-with-all to smuggle weapons, explosives and foreign fighters, its craftsmen provided the talent to build bombs and every home was a fortress.
As 2003 turned to 2004, the cancer inside Fallujah was growing. Most Fallujahans were unemployed. The insurgents were able to launch attacks on nearby Baghdad and to control commercial traffic through the city. The city was home to gunrunners and smugglers. It seemed that every storefront had a back room full of weapons for sale. Everyone knew who specialized in particular items. Some sold machine guns while others provided sophisticated night vision devices. The local bazaars were crawling with merchants of death.
Captain Ron Christmas commanded a company of Marines during some of the heaviest fighting for Hue City, Vietnam. He was awarded the Navy Cross after being seriously wounded in the fight and then in 1974 was assigned a company of students at The Basic School (TBS) in Quantico, Virginia. Four of his former students are now serving as general officers in the Marine Corps.
Ron Christmas rose to the rank of Lieutenant General and command of the 1st Marine Expeditionary Force before retiring in 1996. He is now the President of The Marine Corps Heritage Foundation and is considered a master advisor to current Marine leaders. Two of his TBS students were involved in the Fallujah fight. Major General Richard Natonski led the 1st Marine Division and Major General Richard S. Kramlich commanded the 1st FSSG. They have carried General Christmas’ advice with them through their entire careers. Is it any wonder that they turned to the lessons learned from the fighting in Hue City during their planning for the assault on Fallujah?
I too turned to General Christmas. I wanted to try to find a connection between the city fighting forty years ago in Vietnam and the modern-day urban fight in Iraq. I was fortunate enough to have a short conversation with General Christmas last month. He pointed out that the first necessity in any urban fight is to isolate the battlefield. The enemy must be contained and denied escape, re-supply and reinforcement. He also pointed out the need for decisive action – hesitation in an urban fight will get you killed.
I then did some research on my own and found that Ron Christmas learned that paying attention to the details of everyday soldiering saved lives in the urban fight. He pointed out that street fights quickly break down into small unit actions of squads, fire teams and individuals. If those individuals understand the basics, they will survive and win. General Christmas is also an advocate of the use of crew-served weapons and armored vehicles with large guns. He certainly could have used more tanks in Hue City.
None of these lessons missed General Natonski’s scrutiny. First, he surrounded Fallujah. He paid attention to every detail; brought gun-trucks, AMTRACS, and Bradleys to the fight with their .50 caliber machine guns, MK19 grenade launchers and chain guns and then led with Army M1A2 tanks. Natonski conducted the assault on the city with lightning speed, never pausing to give his enemy the chance to regroup.
While there were mistakes made at all levels of command during the fight in Fallujah, General Christmas believes that Natonski and his staff did an excellent job in planning, preparing and executing the assault. His is proud of his protégé.
After our discussion of lessons from his Vietnam experience, General Christmas provided me with a quote from an article he wrote for the Marine Corps Gazette in 1977. This short statement bridges a gap of nearly forty years of Marine Corps history and links the two most significant urban battles in modern Marine history, for it is just as true today as it was then:
“Fighting house-to-house is the dirtiest fighting of all…It takes guts!”
Major Ron Christmas
Juan was already a Navy Corpsman on 9/11. On that historic day, he was stationed at Bethesda Naval Hospital. Early that morning, he was called into a meeting where he was told that a plane had struck the Pentagon and that he would be part of a medical team being dispatched to the site. Members of the emergency response team gathered their equipment and were hustled onto a waiting Coast Guard helicopter to be flown to the Pentagon.
Rubio arrived within two hours of the attack. When he stepped off the helicopter he found an unimaginable scene. Smoke was rolling out of the huge building and the parking lot was swarming with emergency workers and dazed victims. To Rubio it looked like the ultimate emergency assistance drill. The medical teams were working like a well oiled machine. Rubio, and his team immediately joined in to help. After the casualties were transported, Rubio returned to Bethesda. Then he was sent to the Hospital Ship, USNS Comfort. Comfort was sent to New York City to assist in the largest man-made disaster in the history of our country. Rubio quickly realized that there would be no injured to care for. He went ashore and found himself standing in front of a seemingly endless wall of photographs.
That wall changed his life. Rubio stood transfixed, gazing at photographs of sons, daughters, husbands, wives, mothers and fathers. He gazed at a block-long collage of fearful messages left by loved-ones in hope that their family member would be found. A chill touched his soul. He knew that these people would not be found alive. He also knew that the world would never be the same and that he would be needed to care for our servicemen who would be wounded in the coming fight. He vowed, then and there, to become a Marine Corps Corpsman.
By March of 2003, Rubio was humping it with his Marines through the muddy streets of Eastern Nasiriyah. He fought with Task Force Tarawa’s 1st Battalion, 2nd Marines in Bravo Company, and then volunteered to join the Small Craft Company for his second tour in Iraq. As the only Corpsman for Captain Dan Wittnam’s boat company, he made nearly every patrol along the Euphrates River before, during and after the fight for Fallujah. Operation Phantom Fury was much more than a house-to-house fight through the city streets. Soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines fought the battle throughout Anbar and North Babil. Wittnam and his Marines ranged the Euphrates River and were engaged in several heavy firefights.
Wittnam’s soldiers and Marines suffered several casualties and Rubio saved lives. Regardless of their wounds, Rubio never gave up on a patient, even when wounded himself. Hospital Corpsman Juan Rubio was awarded the Silver Star for his Herculean efforts to care for his men. Rubio has been in this fight from the beginning and will carry a heavy weight for the rest of his life. He will never forget the men he lost.
Rubio’s story is just one of many that I am uncovering. Thousands of American young men and women laid their lives on the line during the fight for Fallujah, hundreds saved lives of their comrades and scores made the ultimate sacrifice. I will work to tell as many of these stories as is possible, for men like Juan Rubio need to be recognized for what they are – American Heroes.
Thousands of authors compete daily for the attentions of agents and publishers. Your book could be the next “War and Peace” and it won’t get close to a Barnes and Noble if you can’t get a publisher’s attention. So, every writer who thinks he is the next Rick Atkinson or David McCullough throws his manuscript at publisher after publisher. After decades of being deluged with reading material, publishers have devised a system to protect themselves.
They only deal with agents. This way, the literary agents end up with the cluttered mail boxes and desks. As the first literary filter, agents have erected their own barriers to deflect the massive reams of manuscripts thrown at them. When it comes to non-fiction works, all they want to see is a one-page query. If that single page of text grabs them, they will ask for a proposal. If you can’t grab an agent by the short hairs in a single page, your book will never make it to print.
Even with these massive information filters, agents – that is good agents – sort through query after query in search of the “golden apple.” Query mining becomes a tedious task. That is why a good author must be able to capture the heart and soul of his project in the first sentence of his query.
The hook becomes the lead in your query and, if you are lucky, your proposal too. The hook for “Marines in the Garden of Eden” was:
Marines in the Garden of Eden is the story of America’s sons and daughters who fought, bled, and died in a little-known city on the banks of the Euphrates River. Richard Lowry places you among the participants, on an ancient battlefield, at the edge of civilization.
The hook makes a promise to the agent, editor, publisher and reader. Once established, it becomes the foundation for the entire work. To be successful, the author must make good on his promise. The entire query is built around the hook. The author must briefly explain how he will keep his promise and why the public will buy the story. The hook is also the heart of the synopsis.
A synopsis will tell about the story in a single page. We will work on the synopsis later. Today we need to come up with the most important sentence in this project. I have been working on this book’s hook for a couple weeks now. I am still not completely happy with the results.
[Book Title - the fight for Fallujah] is the story of the battle that changed the war. It is also the story of the kid down the block who went off to fight and came home changed for life. This is a story of courage, sacrifice and valor.
When I tell a story, I want to accurately portray the military events – operational and tactical. I will write about the battle that changed the war. I have found over the years that military history books are usually one of the best cures for insomnia. Most readers are not interested in struggling through orders of battle and tactical descriptions laced with military acronyms. So, I try to write an interesting story, one that people want to read. To do this, I write about human beings – the kid down the block. I tell personal stories of courage, sacrifice and heroism.
I have made my promise to the editors and readers, but haven’t grabbed the really short hairs yet. Maybe I have. Please tell me what you think.
Lieutenant Colonel Pat Malay did everything he could to prepare his Marines for their deployment to Iraq in 2004. When the Marines of 3rd Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment arrived in Iraq, they were as prepared as any unit before, or after. Read on to hear the story of 3/5s unusual preparations for deployment.
In early 2004, Lieutenant Colonel Pat Malay knew that his battalion would soon return to a hotbed in Iraq. He wanted to prepare his Marines as thoroughly as possible for what he knew would be a difficult deployment. But, the Marine Corps’ training centers were strained to capacity. The Darkhorse Marines could not find a facility to conduct their urban warfare training or MOUT.
So Pat Malay turned to Stu Segall Productions, San Diego’s only full-service TV and movie studio. Stu’s studio almost went under after the 9/11 attacks. Hollywood producers no longer had an interest in producing “shoot-um-up” pieces, which his studio specialized in. Stu had special effects experts, actors and make-up artists who were masters in simulating violent explosions and wartime scenarios for the camera.
Stu Segall Productions was only one of many businesses that had to re-invent themselves or perish after al-Qaeda’s terror attacks on America. It took some time, but Stu managed to attract the attention the Drug Enforcement Agency. The DEA contracted with Stu to use his 20-acre facility as a training ground for its agents. Stu began by supporting search and arrest training for the federal agents.
Some of the DEA agents who trained at Stu’s studio were Marine Corps reserves. Pat Malay heard about this TV studio turned training ground through some of these Agent/Marines. Malay met with Segall and soon 3/5 Marines were attending training exercises in Stu’s “Mean Arab Street” facility. Shockingly, Stu’s actors started out beating Malay’s Marines in the faux urban fights. A handful of actors and truck drivers repeatedly won the firefights.
The shock of Stu’s actors defeating Malay’s Marines could have caused a lesser leader to discontinue the exercises, but it only made Malay and his staff stand up and take note. The Darkhorse Marines could learn much in this environment. So Colonel Malay expanded his Marines’ training at the studio. Soon, everyone in the battalion was included.
Stu broke out his make-up artists and amputee-actors. He found Iraqi immigrants who lived in the San Diego area and together they put together Hyper-Realistic environments where the Marines had to deal with distressed civilians, gruesome casualties and enemy fighters, all at once. Some of the Marines did not do well under the pressure of the exercises, others excelled. Assignments were adjusted, Marines who excelled were given additional responsibilities and those who didn’t get it were moved to where they were better suited.
Soon, the Darkhorse Marines were running scenarios and winning. Squads and fire teams were moving through the urban environment on “muscle memory.” They were dealing with insurgent fighters, civilians and casualties in a professional manner. They could adjust to situational changes with little or no conversation. The squads and fire teams worked in concert with only a nod or hand gesture commanding a change in focus. Stu Segall’s facility provided the venue to hone Malay’s Marines into an urban fighting unit. Malay credits this training for saving uncountable Marine lives in the street fighting through Fallujah.
When Stu Segall is asked if he served in the military his answer is: “I was never in the military but I am serving with the Marines right now.” He continues to provide the most realistic training anywhere in the world. Visit Stu’s website for a detailed look at the training services he provides to our men-in-arms.
And, Don't Forget to leave me a comment below.
In Part VI we will start talking about the writing process and I hope you will all provide me with feedback on the most important sentence in the entire project. It is the hardest sentence to write. It must convey the heart and soul of the project in a single thought. Tune in next time, when I will write about "The Hook."
I interviewed nearly one-hundred participants of the battle for An Nasiriyah in order to collect the overall story of the first major battle of Operation Iraqi Freedom. The two-year adventure of learning the details for Marines in the Garden of Eden began when then Brigadier General Richard Natonski invited me to come to Camp Lejeune in October of 2003. I spent an entire day talking with Marines and walked away knowing that I had to tell that amazing story.
So, when LtGen Richard Natonski suggested that I write the story of Phantom Fury, I jumped at the opportunity. Once I digested the PowerPoint briefing he gave me, I set out to start the research process again. I found a map; collected information on the units involved and started my interviews.
The book writing process is comprised of many different phases. First, I must pick a subject. Next, I must become an expert on that subject. I read every available book, account, after action report, and anything else I can get my hands on. I collect maps, photographs and videos. Most importantly, I try to talk to as many eye witnesses as possible. And, I try to conduct my interviews from the top down. Only after I become familiar with the subject, can I set pen to paper.
I have already interviewed nearly forty soldiers, sailors and Marines – many from the 1st Marine Division staff. Of course, I have spent time talking with LtGen Natonski. General Natonski is not a seeker of notoriety. Yet, he is one of the most combat experienced commanders in the Marine Corps. As a young lieutenant, he led a small ground security element during the evacuation of the US Embassy in Saigon. He has served in Lebanon, Haiti and Mogadishu. In 2003, Brigadier General Natonski commanded the 2d Marine Expeditionary Brigade whose Camp Lejeune Marines fought the battle for An Nasiriyah.
General Natonski does everything with gusto. He likes people and is a team builder. When I asked him if he remembered his radio call sign, he told me, “I’m not one to talk on the radio, when I can go face-to-face with the commanders.” He has long been an advocate of joint operations and was quite possibly the most qualified to lead the 1st Marine Division into the first major urban fight since Hue City. I like General Natonski, he treats everyone with respect.
In the midst of the fight, he was shown the photograph of the Marine who ended up on the cover of Time Magazine.
General Natonski immediately ordered that the Marine be found. Once the “Marlboro Man” was identified, the general and his entourage ventured out in search of the Marine to give him a copy of the photograph and to tell him that he had become famous. Today, Natonski is working in the Pentagon. His only career desire is to get back out leading his Marines again.
I have also spoken with LtGen Keith Stalder. As a Major General, Stalder was the Marine Air Wing Commander during Operation Phantom Fury. He flew one of the first attack missions of the battle in his F/A18 and dropped the first two 500lb bombs on the railroad berm north of Fallujah. His bombs started the process of clearing lanes for the ground attack.
Immediately following the F/A18 sorties, a Marine lance corporal rumbled forward in a heavy D9 combat bulldozer to finish the lane clearing. Colonel George Bristol, Natonski’s Intelligence Officer, told me that this is a great example of Marine teamwork and the Marine Air Ground Task Force (MAGTF) in action. Picture a Marine Major General dropping bombs, followed by a lance corporal in an armored bulldozer opening the lane so that a Marine infantry battalion could attack through the breach.
Next, I spoke with a veteran of the 2003 march to Baghdad. Brigadier General Joseph Dunford was the 1st Marine Division’s Assistant Division Commander (ADC) and became responsible for operations throughout Anbar province while General Natonski focused on the actual assault on Fallujah. While speaking with General Dunford, I began to realize the complexity of the fight. The war did not grind to a halt while we assaulted Fallujah. It was extremely important to try to maintain pressure on the enemy, keep the southern supply routes open and maintain security along the Syrian border. General Dunford kept up an operational tempo, even though every available unit was cannibalized to assemble the largest Fallujah assault force possible.
By starting at the top of the command structure, I get the strategic overview first. Then, I try to work my way down the chain of command. I find that at each echelon, I gain more detailed knowledge and a completely different view of the battlefield. Eventually, I will move from a macro to a micro focus. Eventually, I will interview some of the lance Corporals who were putting their lives in danger with every door they kicked in or courtyard they entered.
But, for now, I am still learning. I have spoken with the CG, ADC, Intelligence Officer (G-2) and Operations Officer (G-3) of 1st Marine Division. I have spoken with Brigade and Regimental commanders. I have interviewed the Black Jack Brigade commander, Colonel Mike Formica and RCT-1s commander, Colonel Mike Shupp. Craig Tucker is on the calendar for next week. The battalion commanders provide an operational view of the battle. Every one of them that I have spoken with thus far spent much of their time with their soldiers and Marines in the city. When I lay all of the battalion commander’s descriptions side-by-side, I will end up with a very clear picture of the fight in Fallujah.
Thus far, I have interviewed Colonels Pete Newell, Jim Rainey, Steve Dinauer, Gary Brandl, Myles Miyamasu and Pat Malay. In coming weeks, I will devote an entire post to both Jim Rainey and Pat Malay. I spent more than three hours speaking with Colonel Pat Malay. During our talk, he related a story to me which bears retelling.
Colonel Malay did everything he could to prepare his Marines for their deployment to Iraq in 2004. When the Marines of 3rd Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment arrived in Iraq, they were as prepared as any unit before, or after. In Part V, I will tell the story of 3/5s unusual preparations for deployment.
To those of you who have just surfed in, you have arrived nearly at the beginning of a great internet adventure. (Catch up on previous posts here.) I have recently started blogging my way through my newest book project. It will tell the story of the battle for Fallujah. Return frequently and follow along as my work grows into the next military history book to hit the shelves in your local book store. Please contribute suggestions and comments. I am looking forward to your feedback.
I have received a couple requests to expand on my explanation of military unit symbology so here is a little more detail.
Inside every box is a symbol which indicates the type of unit. visit globalsecurity.com for a detailed breakdown. Next, the unit’s identifying number is located directly to the left of the rectangle. The unit size is specified at the top of the box:
X – Brigade
III – Regiment
II – Battalion
I – Company
… - Platoon
Some of the unit size indicators are enclosed in a box, like both Regimental Combat Teams (RCTs), 2-2 Infantry and 1-5 Cav. The box indicates that these units are Task Forces. A Task Force is a “hybrid” unit. The army uses Task Force organization often. They will take an armor battalion, which in its pure form will be comprised of three tank companies and swap companies with a mechanized infantry battalion, which is typically comprised of three mechanized infantry companies in Bradley Fighting Vehicles. The end result would be two battalion task forces, one having two tank companies and a single mechanized infantry company and the other task force having two mech companies and a single tank company.
A Marine RCT typically has three infantry battalions attached. RCT-1 and RCT-7 became Task Forces by adding the army mechanized infantry battalions.
To continue, just to the right of the unit symbol is the identifying number of the parent unit.
Look at the unit symbols at the top of the Fallujah columns on the left of the diagram. At the top are the symbols for RCT-1 and RCT-7. They are “amphibious infantry” or “Marines.” Under RCT-1 we have the 3rd Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment (infantry). Their symbol does not indicate that they are amphibious because they lacked amphibious vehicles. If you look under RCT-7, you will notice that the 1st Battalion, 3rd Marine Regiment is indicated as having Assault Amphibious Vehicle support.
If anyone has any specific questions, feel free to leave a comment, but I am ready to move on to an entirely new subject. Stay tuned for “Starting at the Top.”
To those of you who have just surfed in, you have arrived nearly at the beginning of a great internet adventure. (Catch up on previous posts here.) I have recently started blogging my way through my newest book project. It will tell the story of the battle for Fallujah. Return frequently and follow along as my work grows into the next military history book to hit the shelves in your local book store. Please contribute suggestions and comments. I am looking forward to your feedback.
Now that we have maps and a view of the battlespace, we need to figure out who will be involved in this epic battle. Determining allied units will be easy. Defining the enemy force will be much more difficult, as I don’t have the enemy commanders’ email addresses. So, let’s start with our side.
To the civilian, this chart means very little. But, this is the kind of graphic that makes a military historian salivate. There is more information here than can usually be crammed on a single page. If you really want to get into this military unit shorthand visit globalsecurity.com.
But, if you just want to follow along and not become totally engrossed in these military mahjong pieces, I will provide a brief overview. First, the 1st Marine Division staff used color to point out that this was truly a multi-national, joint effort. The green boxes indicate coalition partners, Iraqi flags designate Iraqi units, purple are Navy SEALS, the black boxes are U. S. Army units while the blue boxes specify Marine Corps units.
The first thing that jumped out at me was that Operation Phantom Fury was the embodiment of Goldwater/Nichols vision of joint operations in our military. I also noticed that there were quite a few Iraqi units involved at every level. During the first fight to take Fallujah, in April of 2004, the supporting Iraqi forces never made it to the battlefield. They broke and ran when they were ambushed in transit. So, to have this many Iraqi units involved was a dramatic improvement from the first time around and was also an indicator of the steady improvement of Iraqi forces in 2004.
Our one-page Task Organization also provides us with some insight to Fallujah – the battlefield. Notice from right to left we have North Babil Province, the Western Area of Operations and Ramadi (we will get to Fallujah and its environs later). The 1st Marine Division had responsibility for a large chunk of Iraq, to include North Babil Province and the entire Anbar Province. In 2004, every turn in the road or stand of palm trees was a potential ambush point. The entire province was dangerous and the cities and towns were downright deadly. General Natonski could not turn his complete attention to clearing Fallujah without providing as much security as possible throughout western Iraq. The battle for Fallujah was not fought in a vacuum, it really required operations throughout Western Iraq.
So, Natonski turned responsibility for the entire area over to his Assistant Division Commander, Brigadier General Joseph Dunford, and assigned the 31st Marine Expeditionary Unit to the Western AO and the 24th Marine Expeditionary Unit to Babil. The 2nd Brigade Combat Team of the 2nd Infantry Division was assigned to the hotbed town of Ramadi and the remaining forces were shifted around so that they could be part of the actual fight in Fallujah under Natonski’s direct command.
The main attack force would be two Marine Regimental Combat Teams (RCT-1 and RCT-7) and the 1st Cavalry Division’s Black Jack Brigade would surround the city – letting no one in or out. Notice on our chart, both RCTs have an embedded Army mechanized battalion. Spread thin, neither RCT had three full battalions or a heavy armored punch. So, Natonski and his boss the Marine Expeditionary Force commander, Lieutenant General John F. Sattler, asked the Army to pitch in. The commanders in Baghdad gave the Marines everything they needed. Second Battalion of the 7th Cavalry Regiment was “chopped” to RCT-1 and the 2nd Battalion of the 2nd Infantry Regiment went to RCT-7. Both of these units were mechanized infantry – heavy with M1 tanks and Bradleys.
I am still absorbing all the information on this chart but it is apparent that the forces amassed for the clearing of Fallujah were enormous, international and joint. This time the coalition had brought all the tools in their toolbox. The second fight for Fallujah would be much different than the first.
In Part IV, I will talk about my first interviews. I try to start at the top to get the big picture. Eventually I will get to the Lance Corporal’s stories, but first I have to understand the strategic and operational stories. Tune in next time for some snippets from my interviews with the division, brigade and regimental commanders.
Welcome! You have surfed in at the beginning of a great internet adventure. I recently started work on my next book. It will tell the story of the battle for Fallujah. John and I have decided to make you all a participant in this writing project. You have only missed PART I of this interactive series. I will be blogging my way through the project. You can follow along as my work grows into the next military history book to hit the shelves in your local book store. And, you can even contribute with suggestions and comments. Actually. I am looking forward to your feedback.
So, let’s get started.
Please join me in this continuing adventure by reading on and then taking the time to leave a comment.
The first thing you need to fight a war and to write about it is a really good map.
The 1st Marine Division’s map of Fallujah nearly filled a room, resting on what General Natonski called, “...the largest picnic table in the world.”
Military leaders throughout history have depended heavily on their maps. They provide a visual depiction for the planners and vehicle to convey orders to the fighting units. In today’s military, they are indispensable. They are also important to the writer. We have to first learn the story, before we can convey the story to our readers. The map is the first thing I reach for when starting a project. It allows me to see the battlespace. I can understand the terrain. I see man-made and natural obsticles. And, after extensive study, I can actually place a Marine or soldier on the battlefield as he tells me his story. To become a good soldier and military writer, map reading skills are essential.
I started this project last August when General Natonski gave me a copy of the briefing he regularly gives on Operation Phantom Fury. The first pages I turned to were the maps.
Today, the Marines rely heavily on satellite imagery. You can’t have a more accurate map than a photograph. In this shot of Fallujah, key landmarks have been identified.
I immediately set to work learning the landmarks and terrain. Your first assignment in our adventure is to learn these features too. I will talk much more about the hospital, cloverleaf and the Jolan Park in coming posts. This map will help us all visualize the battlefield. Soon we will be able to read the next graphic.
This leads us to the second thing we will all need to tell this amazing story – an Order of Battle.
I am taking a break for the holiday weekend, but will return with Part III – You Can’t Tell the Players without a Program. In the meantime, please let me know if you know where I can find a good Fallujah map with military grid numbers. Also, another tool that I have found indispensable is Google Earth. If you don’t already have it installed on your computer, you need to download it. It is free.
Please take the time to leave a comment and become a part of my project.
John has suggested that I try to keep our readership updated as to my progress on my next book. I got to thinking about his suggestion and think it might be interesting to blog my way through the project. You and I may have a completely different idea of what is “interesting.” So, I will rely on your feedback through comments to determine whether I should continue with my saga of writing the story of Operation Phantom Fury.
If this goes as planned, I will be posting short updates on the writing and publishing process in the days and weeks to come. I will also try to provide short vignettes on some of the soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines I am interviewing. Some of the stories will end up in the book – others may not.
Please join me in this continuing adventure by reading on and then taking the time to leave a comment.
I hadn’t seen LtGen Richard Natonski since we had last spoken in Camp Lejeune in early 2004. By the summer of 2004, he was on his way back to Iraq to lead the 1st Marine Division in the largest fight of Operation Iraqi Freedom. I missed him again when I went to Camp Pendleton in October of 2006 for a book signing I attended on the newly-released Marines in the Garden of Eden. So, last summer was the first time I had the opportunity to speak with him about my book on Nasiriyah. He took time out of his busy schedule to talk with me in his office in the Pentagon. We spent nearly an hour talking about the beginning of the war and where we both thought this struggle was headed. Then, in closing, he said to me. “Rich, you really should write a book about Fallujah.”
What Natonski didn’t know is that I had had two or three aborted efforts at starting my next book. After Marines in the Garden of Eden, I had considered writing a book about the 2nd Marine Regiment’s 2005/2006 deployment in Iraq. I actually started the interview process with Colonel Steve Davis. I was sitting in his office when the Hiditha incident darkened his door. It became very difficult to get Marines to provide information while that investigation continued, so I placed that project on the back burner.
I went quite awhile before I selected another subject. Then, early this year I set out to write a book on “The Surge.” It turned out that it was way too soon to be able to collect enough information in the detail I require to tell the story (most, if not all of the documents, are still classified). Along the way, I thought I found another compelling story to tell. It was the story of an Army Green Beret and his two tours in Afghanistan and another in Iraq.
I spent a couple months conducting the initial research only to be disappointed again with the amount of forthcoming information. Then, General Natonski suggested a book on Fallujah. I immediately grabbed the opportunity. I have interviewed over thirty participants of the battle thus far and I have two or three interviews a day on my calendar. Join me while I uncover the amazing stories of our troops at war.
