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| Iraq |
| Combat Heroines |
| 2004-01-05 |
| Pvt. Teresa Broadwell is in the middle of the maelstrom, standing on tiptoe in the turret of a Humvee in a vain attempt, at 5 feet 4 inches tall, to see through the sight of her M-249 machine gun. American soldiers are down in the street. Iraqis are firing at her truck from the rooflines and alleyways along Highway 9 near the center of this dusty city an hour south of Baghdad. Lt. Col. Kim Orlando, commander of the 716th Military Police Battalion, parent unit of the 194th Military Police Company, had come to Karbala that day to review intelligence indicating that tensions in the city were surging, following a shootout between religious factions four days earlier. Orlando, 43, of Nashville, was riding along on a routine patrol through Karbala when he and soldiers in three Humvees saw dozens of heavily armed guards for Sheik Mahmoud Hassani standing near the sheik’s compound on either side of Highway 9. Hassani, a Shiite religious leader who had recently moved to Karbala from Najaf and set up a headquarters there, was not enamored of the U.S. presence in Iraq. The Americans had already had run-ins with his men and told them they could not carry arms on the street. But here they were again, in open defiance of the weapons ban. The Americans, led by Orlando, stopped their vehicles, got out and started walking toward the Iraqis. One of them motioned for the Americans to lay down their weapons before coming any closer. As the Iraqi motioned, he started to swing his AK-47 into firing position, according to 1st Sgt. Troy Wallen, and either that Iraqi or another one fired a shot. Orlando was hit almost immediately and fell to the ground. "Then all hell broke loose," says Wallen, who was standing next to Orlando. In retrospect, it seems like a well-planned ambush, given the large number of Iraqis on both sides of the highway firing from rooftops, storefronts and alleys. "That one individual decided he wanted to fight that night," Wallen said. "We outgunned them — that’s the only way we got out of there." If Broadwell and her comrades "hadn’t fired that night, none of us would have made it out." Orlando didn’t. He died on his way to the hospital, the highest-ranking officer killed by hostile fire in Iraq. When the fighting erupted, Broadwell was part of a three-truck patrol a short distance away. Their radios crackled with a call for help, and her patrol arrived on the scene within three minutes and drove smack into the middle of the killing zone. Lt. Guerrero jumped out of his Humvee, almost into the arms of Iraqis firing AK-47s and rocket-propelled grenades at his convoy. Before they could shoot him, Guerrero heard short, controlled bursts from Broadwell’s machine gun. The Iraqis ducked for cover. Since Broadwell wasn’t quite tall enough to see through the weapon’s sight, she was gauging the accuracy of her fire with tracer rounds — every fifth bullet in an M-249’s ammunition belt ignites a phosphoric compound that leaves a luminescent trail to help gunners see where they are firing. She remembers feeling terrified, but somehow fighting through it and "walking tracer rounds," she says, into her targets. Somehow, no rounds or shrapnel hit Guerrero, down on the street, or Broadwell, up in the Humvee’s turret, although she badly bruised her back after being thrown back in the turret after explosions hit the front of her vehicle. Guerrero credits Broadwell with saving his life. "She was up there doing what we trained her to do as a gunner," he said. "She kept their heads down." "She was on top of it," adds Pfc. Jonathan Rape, who was driving their vehicle that night. "If she were two inches taller, it would have helped, but you couldn’t expect anything more. All I could hear was that SAW [squad automatic weapon] going off. She seemed so calm. It was three- to five-shot bursts, like she was taught. That told us she wasn’t freaking out and holding the trigger down and spraying. She covered the whole right side of our truck." Tracie Sanchez, the mother of four who was a gunner on the patrol Orlando was riding with, never got off a shot. As soon as the firing started, a round cracked her Kevlar helmet; then a grenade went off a few feet away from her truck, knocking her out of the turret. She collapsed inside the vehicle and credits her driver, Spec. Woodrow Lyell, with treating her wounds and, more important, calming her down. Out on the street, a combat medic, 25-year-old Sgt. Misty Frazier of Hayden Lake, Idaho, found herself dodging bullets and running from wounded soldier to wounded soldier in a way she can hardly believe in retrospect. "That’s the first time I had ever heard gunfire and rocket-propelled grenades go off that close, knowing they were shooting at us," she said. "I was very lucky." The final woman in action that night, Spec. Corrie Jones, 27, of Shreveport, La., pulled up as part of a three-vehicle patrol to back up Broadwell’s patrol, which she could see up ahead in the middle of the "kill zone." She began firing at the Iraqi attackers. The battle soon ended. But in a moment, she had resolved the question that haunts soldiers who have yet to experience combat: How will they react under fire? "I don’t think it’s something anybody knows," she says. Now, she adds, "I know how strong I am." For two days afterward, Broadwell couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t eat. "All I could do," she says, "was sit back and cry." She still has dreams about the firefight, not because she froze in battle, but because she didn’t freeze. She knows she shot and killed at least one Iraqi, possibly more. Her commanders believe she and her fellow MPs killed more than 20 Iraqis during the battle. "That was something I never thought I would have to do," Broadwell says. "I never thought I would have to take somebody’s life, but I had to. It was kind of a shock. I wish there was something we could have done differently, but there was nothing we could have done." For her role in the Oct. 16 firefight, Broadwell was awarded the Bronze Star with V for Valor. Maj. Gen. David Petraeus, commander of the 101st Airborne, pinned it on her uniform, along with the Purple Heart, in a recent memorial ceremony honoring Lt. Col. Orlando and two others killed during the firefight, Staff Sgt. Joseph P. Bellavia, 28, of Wakefield, Mass., and Cpl. Sean R. Grilley, 24, of San Bernardino, Calif. Broadwell was close friends with both men. |
| Posted by:Chuck Simmins |
| #11 This thread about the effects of killing on a soldier reminded me of an article that TU3031 posted back in October. The Yahoo linlk no longer works ,but goggling Army Master Sgt. Tony Pryor may lead to a first hand account of how a special operator deals with a grissly task. Here is a sample: "Whatever digging, scratching, biting, hair-pulling, ear-ripping-off whatever you got to do to get the job done, that’s what you do," Pryor says, explaining actions that night that won him the Silver Star for heroism and saved the lives of other team members in the compound. "Because, bottom line, I got a life at home. They (his comrades) got a life at home. And we’re coming home." America is lucky to have these brave mea and women. |
| Posted by: Super Hose 2004-1-5 9:50:54 PM |
| #10 But - did she take names? |
| Posted by: mojo 2004-1-5 6:28:47 PM |
| #9 There is something to be said for becoming older and a bit forgetful. To be an absolute cynic OS, the State Department requires it to be so. |
| Posted by: Shipman 2004-1-5 6:27:00 PM |
| #8 Thanks, OS, for that description. It is as elequoent as I have seen. Life layers over the bad stuff we endure, whether it is combat or some other jarring experience. You have my gratitude for your service. |
| Posted by: remote man 2004-1-5 5:33:35 PM |
| #7 "All I could hear was that SAW going off. She seemed so calm. It was three- to five-shot bursts, like she was taught." Train like you fight, fight like you train. She did just fine. Well done, Soldier. |
| Posted by: Steve 2004-1-5 4:12:54 PM |
| #6 Training kicks in for the firefight - you start fighting just as you were trained to do. "You fight like you train" is so true. That and I remember anger - I was pissed these "rag headed m*f*ers" [my words at the time] were shooting at me and my guys. I imagine that gunner was going through the same thing. But afterwards, well, they dont have any training for that. I'll admit shaking like a leaf *after* my first time, and the second and third. I never faced a 4th, so I don't know if it gets any easier. I do know that afterward it does hit you, not bad for some people but hard for others. Especially when after the firefight, we rolled by the guys we killed. Severed limbs, heads burst open, guts spilled on the sand. The stuff stays with you, especially when you personally were pulling the triggers. The anger drops, the adrenelin runs out, the brain starts working normally again, and you realize that you could have been killed, that you were getting shot at (somehow that doesnt sink in when you are fighting, not in the same way). And, if you were raised the way I was, you realized that you just broke one big thing that marks you out of the civilized world: you've killed other humans - and did so without a care at the time. And killed them in a pretty gruesome way. Hindsight is always clearer. This is true for combat too - and being clearer cuts both ways. I can still clearly remember the smell of burning oil, cordite, etc. Blown up APCs have a distinct smell, as do the bodies burning in them. But you live, you move on. My father's generation did it in WW2, my step-brother's generation manged in Vietnam despite all the crap thrown their way by politicians and the left, my generation has done it in Panama, and the Gulf I, and this current bunch will do it as well. As the years go by, the dreams come less frequently. There is something to be said for becoming older and a bit forgetful. |
| Posted by: OldSpook 2004-1-5 4:11:48 PM |
| #5 I suspect women combat veterans will be more forthright and honest about their reactions to their violent experiences than the men have been. My dad never would talk about his screaming nightmares after riding out kamikaze attacks on his troopship in 1945, and he was just a passenger. I learned about that from my mother. He was a changed man after his WWII experiences, and not for the better. |
| Posted by: Tresho 2004-1-5 3:09:49 PM |
| #4 Man, we need an mp3 of "Girls With Guns" playing in the background here! Hoo-rah, girls! |
| Posted by: Ed Becerra 2004-1-5 2:41:32 PM |
| #3 not: She wouldn't be the first soldier to shake a little after a fierce engagement. As a firefighter and then an EMT, I do it myself. The "Oh, shit!' moments take a toll on everyone. Not all combat, firefighting, EMTing is like that, but when you crawl out of a 1,000 degree fire or get back to the base after working a code, it's different. This was a half hour of hell in a very small place, and she has a right to shake a little. The one's that don't, we have a name for them. We call them "dead", cause they will be, sooner or later. |
| Posted by: Chuck Simmins 2004-1-5 1:30:47 PM |
| #2 Since Broadwell wasn’t quite tall enough to see through the weapon’s sight, she was gauging the accuracy of her fire with tracer rounds So what's she doing assigned as a gunner? You'd think there'd be an ammo can to stand on or something. What's next, drivers that can't reach the pedals, blind pilots? She collapsed inside the vehicle and credits her driver, Spec. Woodrow Lyell, with treating her wounds and, more important, calming her down. Not sure that was the appropriate thing to do - mission, man, self and all. My vote would be to man the turret while the bullets are flying. Consider Sgt. Smith at the Baghdad Airport: http://www.sfcpaulsmith.com/seite2.htm But then, I'm ex-Navy (man your battle station 'till the bitter end). Any input from you former grunts? For two days afterward, Broadwell couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t eat. "All I could do," she says, "was sit back and cry." Not sure how that goes over as a role model (sustained combat operations, anyone?). Out on the street, a combat medic, 25-year-old Sgt. Misty Frazier of Hayden Lake, Idaho, found herself dodging bullets and running from wounded soldier to wounded soldier in a way she can hardly believe in retrospect. "That’s the first time I had ever heard gunfire and rocket-propelled grenades go off that close, knowing they were shooting at us," she said. "I was very lucky." Gotta give credit to the medics. Just look at the number of MOH awards to medics in 'Nam. http://www.army.mil/cmh/Moh1.htm. |
| Posted by: not a troll 2004-1-5 12:51:28 PM |
| #1 The first big group of American women soldiers - the stories they will tell, the role models they will be. |
| Posted by: Anonymous2u 2004-1-5 11:26:37 AM |