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.”

Richard S. Lowry is the author of Marines in the Garden of Eden and The Gulf War Chronicles.

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.

Richard S. Lowry is the author of Marines in the Garden of Eden and The Gulf War Chronicles.

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.

Richard S. Lowry is the author of Marines in the Garden of Eden and The Gulf War Chronicles.

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.

I hope to get the proposal out this week.

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

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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

____________________________________________________________

M1 tanks fired point-blank on targets along the narrow streets.

Holy Crap!
US Army Photograph

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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

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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

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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

This is a continuing series, Catch up on previous posts here.

Richard S. Lowry is the author of The Gulf War Chronicles and Marines in the Garden of Eden.

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.

This is a continuing series, Catch up on previous posts here.

Richard S. Lowry is the author of The Gulf War Chronicles and Marines in the Garden of Eden.

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.

This is a continuing series, Catch up on previous posts here.

Richard S. Lowry is the author of The Gulf War Chronicles and Marines in the Garden of Eden.

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

This is a continuing series, Catch up on previous posts here.

Richard S. Lowry is the author of The Gulf War Chronicles and Marines in the Garden of Eden.

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.

This is a continuing series, Catch up on previous posts here.

Richard S. Lowry is the author of The Gulf War Chronicles and Marines in the Garden of Eden.

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.

This is a continuing series, Catch up on previous posts here.

Richard S. Lowry is the author of The Gulf War Chronicles and Marines in the Garden of Eden.

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."

Richard S. Lowry is the author of The Gulf War Chronicles and Marines in the Garden of Eden.

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.

This is a continuing series, Catch up on previous posts here.

Let’s talk about the individual unit symbols.

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.”

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.