Memoirs of an Outlaw: Life in the Sandbox

Chapter 17: Bad Karma

Of all the information the Army unit passed on to us, one thing struck me as strange: a town by the name of Al Gharma (Ga-ar-ma), nicknamed Bad Karma by the Army. The Army unit told us that whenever they rode through the town, they closed all the hatches on the vehicles and drove as fast as possible to avoid any confrontations. Supposedly, the small farming town was a huge insurgent hideout, and whenever Americans would drive through, they would open fire with anything and everything they had. When we took over the area of operations, we decided that we weren’t going to follow the same procedure; we weren’t going to allow the insurgents to dictate how we worked. So one day it was decided that the company would start doing limited patrols into the town and around the outskirts of it.

Second Platoon was the first platoon to take on this new challenge. They only had three vehicles since one was down for repairs, so they added an LAV-L and equipped it with an extra M-240G submachine gun. The whole crew from the broken-down vehicle boarded the “L,” arming the vehicle with an extra four M-16s for more firepower since the vehicle didn’t have a 25 mm gun. The purpose of their patrol was only to survey the town, but they had a lot more in store for them.

On their first patrol, they had been patrolling around the area for only a few minutes before they were fired upon. So they engaged the enemy in their own territory and began entering the town. The streets were narrow, which hindered the ability of the LAVs to effectively engage and maneuver. There were man-made roadblocks, snipers on the roofs, IEDs, and many other things that were dangerous to White Platoon. However, no matter what obstacle was in their way, they were still able to decimate the enemy and accomplish their mission.

They were extremely lucky, too. When the platoon finished their eight-hour shift, most of which was spent in Bad Karma, they came back to tell their war stories about how they had done this and that. Some of the stories may have been a bit embellished, but after hearing many of them and getting a few honest accounts from some of my friends in White Platoon, I was able to figure out that they had one hell of a time and had accomplished their mission. Not only did they have their stories, they had some evidence to back it up. After further examination of the vehicles, I could see marks all over the vehicles where bullets had hit the armor and bounced off. Some of the marks were extremely close to where the scouts in the back had been. A few inches higher and they may not have been bragging as much. However, they did a great job and deserved the credit they received.

Third Platoon was next in line to test out Bad Karma. They went out immediately after White Platoon returned to assess the situation in the town. From what was passed on to us, they saw that the insurgents had refortified the town with more barricades that were designed to block the vehicles in the city. They also found more IEDs and saw insurgents running around getting ready for the next possible assault.

Blue Platoon approached the town the same way as White Platoon did. And just like White Platoon, Blue Platoon received fire from all over. Their vehicles blew up the roadblocks and avoided all the possible IEDs. They blew up vehicles and engaged the enemy on their turf. The firefight went on for a while, and eventually, after no more shots were heard, they pulled out of the town to continue the surveillance of Gharma.

After hearing the news of White and Blue Platoon’s firefights, we were itching to go in and get our hands dirty. Lieutenant Snipes and Staff Sergeant Phelps gathered us around to give us the mission briefing and to ensure we all knew what our duties were and how we were going to conduct the assault. We were all psyched and ready to go. We had already had our first taste of action, but we were jealous of the other platoons; we wanted our own stories to tell and our own vehicle scars to prove it.

We added more ammunition to the vehicles and prepped ourselves for a long firefight. I loaded up with six magazines of 5.56 mm ammunition for my rifle and put eight 40 mm grenades in my pouches for my grenade launcher. I had my new team prep the same way, having PFC Zabala ready his rifle, Doc Barajas ensure his medical equipment was filled and accessible, and Lance Corporal Redd get the SMAW (Shoulder Launched, Multi-Purpose Assault Weapon, a.k.a. rocket launcher, a.k.a. one bad-ass piece of weaponry) prepped for taking out roadblocks or other potential hazards.

Soon we were off to rendezvous with Blue Platoon. We met them at a small field on the outskirts of the town. We pulled our vehicle up next to one of Blue’s vehicles, and the scouts dismounted to take up the positions of Blue’s scouts. I closed the back door of the vehicle and met up with a few of the other scouts from Blue Platoon to find out what had happened. My two friends, Lance Corporals Jason Wheeler and Pat Walsh, were both going on about their firefight and what they had seen and everything they had done. It seemed as if they were talking a mile a minute. Staff Sergeant Phelps and the vehicle commander we had parked next to exchanged words, and when they finished, Walsh, Wheeler, and the other scouts of the vehicle loaded up and prepared to head back to base.

In the meantime, I placed my scouts in good defensive positions and met up with Staff Sergeant Phelps to find out what the new word was. He told me we were going to wait for dawn and then set up closer to the town and recon it for a bit. Then we would eventually enter the city as the other platoons did. He also warned me that the city was blockaded again by the insurgents, some of the vehicles on the side of the roads in town were booby trapped, snipers had created bunkers on the tops of buildings, and IEDs lined some of the roads. For a split second, nervousness crossed my mind, but I brushed it off quickly and informed my scouts of the current situation.

Blue Platoon’s vehicles headed back to the base, and we moved from our positions to get a closer look at the city. We crossed a main road and settled in about one kilometer away from Al Gharma. Corporal Klinger passed over the radio that he saw a man-made roadblock on the main road into the town. He noticed a few people walking around the town carrying weapons and setting up defenses. The problem with the blockades was that if they were used correctly, they would corner us into a trap where we would get destroyed. So Lieutenant Snipes came up with a new plan. He wanted to use the SMAW to destroy the blockades while the LAV-25 chain guns engaged enemy fortifications.

He passed his idea over the platoon net and got a favorable response, so his next decision was to figure out who was going to shoot it. In the platoon, there were only three experienced SMAW gunners: Lance Corporal Duarte, Lance Corporal Redd, and myself. Redd had the most experience, so I suggested his name to Staff Sergeant Phelps, which would allow me to stay with my team and manage them properly if we were to engage in combat. Phelps passed Redd and Duarte’s name onto Lieutenant Snipes, but he rejected them and asked for me to come over to his vehicle to use the SMAW on the blockades. I was honored and exhilarated, but also a bit upset because I wanted to stay with my team when it all went down. Phelps asked Snipes to reconsider Redd for the position, but Lieutenant Snipes was determined to have me take it out. So I slung my rifle on over my shoulder, grabbed the SMAW and a prepped rocket, and ran over to Lieutenant Snipes’s vehicle.

After running for about a quarter of a mile to meet up with his vehicle, I was a bit out of breath. I looked up at Lieutenant Snipes, and he had a big grin on his face. It definitely made me laugh a bit and made me remember why he got his nickname “Turtle” from Shearer and me. When Lieutenant Snipes had all of his gear on (flak jacket, CVC helmet, and glasses), he looked like a giant turtle. When he shrugged his shoulders, it looked like a turtle retreating into his shell. Of course when I teased him about it, he teased me about everything else in return, but it was all in good fun.

After all joking was put aside, he told me that I was going to load up into his vehicle and we were going to pull up within two to three hundred meters of the town. When we got into position, they would lay down covering fire while I jumped out of the back and released a rocket into the blockade. It sounded like something straight out of the movies. I kept on envisioning myself jumping out, dropping to the ground, legs spread apart like the guy from Desperado and firing off one bad-ass rocket and obliterating the enemy.

The only thing holding us back from going in right then was that we were waiting for a call from company headquarters permitting us to continue on as scheduled. We waited for what seemed like a half hour before word came back. The mission was a no-go. They completely dropped the mission on us for a reason still unknown to me. Talk about an adrenaline kill. Everyone in our platoon was psyched to go in, to get some action, to have a story, but it was canceled. I could see in Lieutenant Snipes’ eyes that he was just as pissed as the rest of us.

Instead, we were ordered to continue on our routine counter-IED and counter-mortar patrol. The rest of the day was just a blur because our spirits were down. We got back to base, and people were asking us about our assault. We just brushed them off and continued on with our daily routines. At that moment, it just seemed as if we were the unwanted child of the company, as if everyone else got to have a piece of the pie but we were left with crumbs.

“Maybe another time” was what we were told.