Memoirs of an Outlaw: Life in the Sandbox

Chapter 12: IED Initiation

One of the first missions we conducted just happened to be our rushed introduction to improvised explosive devices.

My platoon, also known as Red Platoon, was ordered to escort a convoy of Marines to an airbase in the western part of the Al-Anbar province called Camp “TQ” Taqqadum. We were all excited because we had heard good things about the camp. It had an internet center, good food, a nice PX, and other luxuries that our base lacked. It was also something different from the already-monotonous security patrols we had been doing, and it seemed like an easy mission.

Everything started off normal. The vehicles we were escorting were primarily seven tons (troop-carrying trucks). They were very lightly armored and not well equipped to engage the enemy. There were also a few Humvees interspersed throughout the convoy. Our platoon’s vehicles took up key positions in the lead, middle, and rear of the patrol to provide the most security.

My vehicle was in the middle of the patrol. I was standing up through the scout hatch, as was my saw gunner, Shearer. We were both scanning the passing terrain looking for any signs of possible enemies or IEDs. Traveling at around forty miles per hour makes the task extremely difficult; nonetheless, we became slightly effective at spotting them. Some were easy to spot, such as those placed blatantly on the road, and others a bit more difficult, such as those dug into the side of the road, hidden in trash, or buried under rocks. However, all of our training never prepared us for our first experience.

We were coming up on one of the many overpasses along MSR Mobile. A few houses were scattered alongside the road, but what was most noticeable was the lack of people. No one was outside.

BA-BOOOOOOM!

“Holy shit!” I yelled to no one in particular. Shearer and I had both dropped to our knees inside of the scout compartment. Forsyth and Herman were trying to figure out what was going on.

“Everyone okay?” I asked.  Herman and Forsyth gave me the thumbs up.

Once I made sure all my body parts were still attached, I stood back up to see what had happened. A huge smoke cloud surrounded a seven-ton that was about two hundred yards ahead of us close to the overpass. Parts of the vehicle littered the road.

“Scouts out!” Sergeant Krall yelled. I ordered my scouts out to form a hasty defensive perimeter around our vehicle as I went to Krall’s location to find out what had happened and what he wanted us to do.

“What the fuck happened?” I yelled to Krall over the roar of the engines.

“A seven-ton up ahead with a platoon of Marines on it got hit by an IED,” Krall yelled back.  He was doing his best trying to talk to me while also listening to the radio traffic that was going on over the company communication network.

“They’ve got quite a few Marines wounded so we’re gonna convert the ‘L’ into a medevac transport,” he said before focusing his attention on the radio chatter again.

I looked back in the direction of the truck.  Two LAVs took up defensive positions around the destroyed truck. The LAV-L (logistics vehicle) became the medical vehicle. Wounded Marines were being treated and loaded onto the LAV-L, the logistics variant of the LAV, to be rushed back to the hospital for further treatment.

The remainder of the convoy had broken into defensive positions alongside the road for about a quarter mile in either direction. The scouts from every vehicle were in defensive stances around their vehicles as their team leaders assessed the situation. Some Iraqi citizens had come out of their homes to see what had happened. A few Marines were questioning the people to find out if they knew who the triggerman was. Unfortunately, the insurgents blended in well, so we could never distinguish who the bad guy was. It was probably what was making this war the hardest for us. The citizens were never much help, either because they lived in fear of the insurgents or they hated us.

“Tanner!” Krall yelled, trying to get my attention.  I turned to look back up at him.  “They think they saw someone who could have been the triggerman running off in the distance so a team of scouts has been deployed in that direction.  For now, set up your scouts in a defensive position.”

I left the side of the vehicle and made my way to where I had positioned my scouts.  I informed them of the situation and then sent them to either side of the road. I went to the left side of the road with my radioman, Forsyth, and I sent Shearer and Herman to watch over the right side. We did a hasty IED scan about two hundred meters from the road and set into our position to await further orders.

In time, Sergeant Krall called over the radio for Forsyth and me to meet back at the vehicle. I ran back as fast as I could with Forsyth trailing and met up with Krall. He told me that Lieutenant Snipes wanted my team to check out the two houses that were sitting off the right side of the road to see if there was anything suspicious. Forsyth and I ran over to Shearer and Herman, and we hurriedly got into a skirmishers formation to patrol the area on the way to the buildings.

The perimeter was surrounded by a low, mud-brick wall. The houses were about two stories tall and seemed to be deserted. Behind them was a giant palm grove that went on for a few acres. Garbage littered the property, and there was a broken-down car in the driveway.

As we approached the houses, Herman and Shearer called out that they saw someone run off into the woods. I got on the radio and gave Sergeant Krall a quick sitrep (situation report). He then passed the word onto Lieutenant Snipes, who sent a vehicle to survey the area.

In the meantime, I took my team to check out the remainder of the houses. We searched the car thoroughly for any contraband and then quickly inspected the outside of the houses. When we came up empty handed, we made our way back toward the LAVs. As we headed back, I noticed a man and a little girl approaching the house. We carefully approached them, and I began to question them with the little Arabic I had learned back in the States.

The Iraqi man informed me that the girl was his daughter. He had just come from somewhere else and knew nothing of what happened. He was friendly, but I was still suspicious. We searched him and found nothing. Since I only had a basic understanding of Arabic, I could never tell if someone was lying, so I was always on the cautious side. With nothing else to ask, we let them return to their home, and we headed back to the vehicle.

We set back into our defensive positions and lay there for another fifteen minutes before we got the call to mount up. We ran back to the vehicles, jumped in, and closed the doors. Shearer and I stood back up and scanned the area with a bit more attention. The explosion had suddenly put us on a new level of alertness.

Finally, the convoy continued on its road march but at a bit faster pace. We didn’t need any more trouble along the way. The “L” and a couple other vehicles had headed back to the hospital to deliver the wounded Marines.

Nothing else extraordinary occurred on the journey, but the experience made us more aware of our surroundings. From what I was told, seven Marines were wounded in the vehicle. One shattered his leg, another broke his ankle, and the rest were riddled with shrapnel. I never knew who they were nor do I know what the overall outcome was, but my thoughts went out to them.

The improvised explosive device became our worst fear and deadliest enemy. We never underestimated it again. That was our first lesson in IED 101.