Operation "Charlie Foxtrot" Part 5
Operation "Charlie Foxtrot"
Part 5
***
Al-Musharraf Neighborhood
0600 hours, local time
Angel tried to check Scream's breathing and finally found a handhold on his web gear so that the marksman could turn his squad leader over. To the young private's relief, Staff Sergeant Silas' chest was heaving up and down, despite the man still being unconscious.
"Dim! Go find Doc and get his ass out here!" Angel shouted towards the back door of the Wakhar house, where Private Dunphy was covering the alley.
"You got it!" Dim shouted in reply, ducking into the house and scrambling down the main hallway.
***
Meanwhile, Smoke opened up with his M-249, sighting in on the RPG gunner, who had two insurgents with rifles providing cover fire. Following his lead, Tariq, Mrs. B and Doublewide added the triple punches of their rifles to the high-pitched chatter of the squad automatic weapon.
"Get some, you scumbags!" Smoke yelled over the rat-a-tat of his weapon. Small puffs of smoke and dust kicked up around the insurgents, driving them to cover behind a large wooden cart left parked in the roadway. The insurgents realized where the new fire was coming from and circled their wagons for a gunfight.
Dim charged into the foyer, keeping his head down as he looked around for Doc.
"Smoke, where's the medic?" Dunphy shouted over the weapons fire.
"Upstairs," Smoke replied tersely. "Can't you see we're shootin' at some people right now? I'm not the triple-A tourism guide for al-Musharraf!"
"I'll get him," Dim said, turning for the stairs. "The Sarge is down in the alley and Angel's watching him."
"Oh, shit," Smoke swore under his breath. He raised his voice enough to yell upstairs.
"Nassiri! Tell Doc to go with Dim! Sarge is down!"
***
Doc spun on the heels of his combat boots, swinging his rifle in the direction of the thumping of leather soles on wooden stairs. He relaxed instantly when he recognized Dim standing in the doorway of the room where he and Private Nassiri had started firing down into the street.
Dim didn't waste time on small talk. He tugged roughly at Doc's sleeve. "C'mon, Doc. The Sarge needs you in the alley."
Both soldiers stormed out of the room, while Tariq sighted in on one of the insurgents breaking cover and raising a long, tubular shape up onto a shoulder.
"Smoke! Watch for the RPG!"
***
Lieutenant Hunter fumed at the platoon command post, as he watched the two squads of soldiers that were in pursuit of the insurgents get hung up by withering rifle fire from the enemy's positions.
As the insurgents followed their tactics, quickly ducking behind cover suitable to allow them to protect one another, they formed a loose perimeter that made it difficult for the American platoon to decisively dislodge them without risking the lives of Al-Musharraf's civilian population or needlessly destroying property. Neither situation would help Hunter's chances of punching his career ticket and making it out of the combat zone with a promotable record.
"Have we re-established radio contact with Rawhide One?" the officer snarled at his radio operator, a fresh replacement six days in the AOR, who quietly shook his head and shrugged as he crouched out of the line of fire and cradled his carbine.
"God dammit! Get Sergeant Silas on that damn radio right away!" Hunter whirled to SFC Murphy's position, a few yards ahead and between the positions of the two rifle squads.
"Murphy! Take one fire team and flank these rag heads on the right! Use the alleys if you have to! I want a crossfire laid down in five minutes so we can take them once and for all!"
"I hear fire coming from one of the houses at ten o'clock!" Murphy yelled back. "First Squad has engaged! Watch out for the RPG gunner! He's lurking around in there!"
***
0605 hours
"There!" Dim shouted, pointing Doc over to where Scream lay motionless. Angel straddled his squad leader, loyally guarding him with his rifle up and ready to fire.
The medic scrambled through the rubble of the partly collapsed masonry wall to reach his injured comrade. He grabbed for his medical gear and quickly drew a saw-toothed Ka-Bar combat knife.
Meanwhile, Dim crouched against a wall in the alleyway, warning a couple of nosy locals away with his hand and by showing his loaded rifle. The civvies didn't need to be told twice, in any language, to get the hell away.
"Whoa!" Angel said. "What's with the pig sticker?"
"I need to cut his gear off so he doesn't suffocate," Doc said. "Just get the hell out of the way and cover me while I work!"
***
"Where is he?" Smoke shouted. "Where's that little shit with the RPG?"
"Two o'clock, behind the cart!" Tariq shouted back. "Get the women and the prisoners out of the front room and take cover!"
More popping sounds came from the upper floor, as Tariq opened up from his angle on the RPG gunner, forcing his head down and delaying the insurgent from launching his deadly rocket at the squad's position.
"You heard the man," Smoke said to Mrs. B and Doublewide. "Get the prisoners and haul ass towards the back alley!"
"What about you?" Doublewide asked, reloading her M-16A2 with a fresh magazine.
"Someone's gotta cover you! Plus, I have one surprise the Sarge left for us. Just get far enough back to be clear of the RPG round! Go!"
Mrs. B and Doublewide tugged at Wahil and Mehar, pulling the prisoners to their feet by their flexicuffs and dragged them with near superhuman strength out of the room and down the hall toward the back alley.
"Smoke!" Tariq shouted. "You still down there?"
Smoke's spray of fire from the M-249 made an unforgettable sound in the confined space of the foyer. "What the fuck you think, Nassiri? I'm here, but I've got an ace up my sleeve! Cover me for a couple seconds!"
"Get out of there, Smoke!" Nassiri exclaimed, seeing the RPG gunner rise once more into a firing stance. He laid down a few more rounds to try to force the insurgent behind cover once more, but found his magazine running dry.
"Keep hitting them, Smoke! I need to reload!"
***
"Rawhide Five to Six Actual," SFC Murphy radioed on his tactical walkie -talkie. "We've flanked the perimeter, Lieutenant. There's too much cover to tag the RPG gunner from our angle, but we're trying to keep their heads down until you're ready to press 'em. I can see flashes from where we had First Squad's objective set. Looks like our missing squad is still fighting it out with them!"
"Can you signal them to hold position?" Hunter asked.
"Can't see eyeballs through the cover and smoke," Murphy replied. "Visual signals aren't gonna work."
"Alright. Just cut off the opposite end of the street, and I'll have another fire team join you. We'll press them towards the house where First Squad is holed up. If we can't tell them to pinch off the enemy, we'll drive them right into a wall of their fire and hope that Silas has the God -given good sense to hold his ground."
"Understood, sir. We're settling in until you give the word. Five is out."
***
Doc made short work of Scream's web gear with the combat knife and had begun performing his ABC's to triage the extent of the sergeant's injuries. The fact that Silas was breathing and his chest moving up and down meant that the airway was clear. A cursory check under his shirt with the stethoscope told Doc that the lungs weren't punctured and his heart was still strong.
"Unbuckle the Sarge's helmet, Angel," Doc instructed, as he felt around Scream's arms, torso and legs to detect if blood was seeping through his uniform from a concealed open wound. As soon as Angel got the Kevlar helmet off, Doc understood why Sergeant Silas was unconscious.
"Look there," Doc said. "He's got a nasty cut on the scalp and pretty deep too. Something must've hit him on the helmet hard, like debris. We're going to have to immobilize him and hump him out to an ambulance. We can't check for smaller broken bones or ribs without an x-ray, but I don't think he's at major risk."
Angel accepted from Doc a large sterile compress, ripping the brown paper wrappings off with his teeth and pressing the bandage against Scream's head wound to staunch the flow of blood from the deep cut. "How we gonna immobilize him, Doc? We ain't packing a stretcher!"
"Watch him!" Doc said. "Yell out if he starts waking up!" The medic raced back into the house to retrieve a large tablecloth from the Wakhars' kitchen. He returned within moments, and located two long pipes that had been left in the alley by construction workers during an Army reconstruction mission.
"What's all that for?" Angel asked, feeling Scream stir slightly under his palm.
Doc rummaged around in his medical satchels and found a large roll of green duct tape.
"We're going to make a stretcher," he said, tearing off the first long piece of duct tape and spreading the pipes and tablecloth out in a clear spot.
***
Smoke finished off his first belt of ammunition for the M-249 and heard Tariq popping rounds off from the upper window again. He quickly set a small, rectangular metal object under the couches and tables the squad had barricaded the house with, and unwound a length of thin wire.
"Fire in the hole!" Tariq yelled when he saw a column of white smoke rise from the tailpipe of the RPG gunner's weapon. "He's shooting at us!"
"I'm fuckin' outta here!" Smoke yelled, throwing sofa cushions through the back doorway of the foyer and diving after them. When he hit the floor in the main hallway, he bunched as many of the cushions as he could between his prone body and the front wall of the house.
The machine gunner could also hear the solid pounding of boots on floorboards as Tariq sprinted toward the Wakhars' bedroom just a second before the RPG-7 rocket struck the front wall of the house.
Dust and stinging debris made up of disintegrated stucco and wood splinters flew in every direction as the RPG-7 round blasted a large hole in the front wall of the house, utterly destroying the two rooms where the Americans had just been positioned. After the round hit, Smoke breathed quickly, relieved that no one had been hurt, as his ears rang from the explosion. He extended the bipod on his M-249, and squinted into the wrecked front room to search for targets.
***
"Six Actual, this is Murphy!" SFC Murphy yelled over the din of the RPG explosion and the rifle fire being traded back and forth across the narrow street and building alcoves where both American and insurgent sought a slice of safe haven from the buzzing rounds.
"Go, Murphy!" Lieutenant Hunter replied, ducking when he heard the RPG explosion.
"The RPG gunner hit First Squad's position! I don't hear any return fire from the house!"
"If they're smart, they would've gone farther in the house," Hunter replied. "We're driving them into the anvil now! I'm ordering grenades and light mortar smoke rounds into the middle of the enemy perimeter! I want heavy suppressive fire on all of the insurgent positions! Push them into that house and trap them there!"
"Roger that, Six Actual!" Murphy replied. "Okay, everyone! Open it up! Rock and roll on those bad guys!"
***
"Smoke, you okay?" Private "Doublewide" Del Rio asked softly as she picked her way to the end of the hall, her rifle ready in case the insurgents had reached the house.
"Ears are ringing, but I'm intact. Get your ass back to the prisoners. I don't want you near when the enemy gets sucked in here. I left 'em a little surprise."
"We've got to get you to the back alley and have Doc look at you," Del Rio said, patting Smoke down to try to detect blood from an open wound or a broken bone.
"Just get the prisoners and the Sarge clear. We still have a job to do."
Private Tariq Nassiri emerged in the hallway from the back steps of the house, and tapped Del Rio on the shoulder. With a look in his eye, he cocked his head in the direction of the alley. "Go, Del Rio. We've got this."
"You okay, Nassiri?" Smoke asked.
"Just ducky, Smoke. What's the plan?"
"The rest of the platoon's pushing these bastards our way, right?"
Nassiri nodded.
"When they try to follow us to the back alley, I'm gonna stop them at the front door."
"Who are you talking 'I', kimosabe?" Nassiri asked. "We don't play solo gigs in the Baghdad AOR."
"Then stay low," Smoke said. For a moment, he paused to make sure the wire he unrolled was still intact and attached it to a handheld "clacker" detonator. "The booby trap is bound to tear hell outta this hallway as much as it'll wipe out anyone coming in from the street."
Nassiri snugged himself between Smoke and the wall opposite where he had propped up the M-249, tucking his rifle butt under his cheek. "I wouldn't miss this one for the world... Game on."
***
"Push them back and cut off their escape routes!" Hunter shouted to his squads, as fire teams converged on the tightening perimeter that the insurgents held. As the Lieutenant had planned, the renewed pressure backed the enemy against the wall closest to the suspect house, and it looked like they were going to charge through it to seek their only avenue of evasion.
"We're on 'em like white on rice," SFC Murphy radioed. "They know the fire's stopped from the house. Looks like they think First Squad pulled out or got iced."
As the Americans closed in, an interpreter from PSY OPS attached to Captain Baron's company reached the platoon command post, and began yelling through a bullhorn for the insurgents to surrender immediately. He also stated that they would live if they dropped their weapons and ceased firing. The insurgents replied with a volley of AK fire directed at Hunter's command group, forcing the lieutenant to drop to the ground and eat a faceful of masonry dust and dirt.
"Fuck this!" Hunter swore. "Fire at will! All grenadiers fire anti- personnel rounds at those bastards!"
"Intel wants prisoners, sir," the PSY OPS interpreter insisted.
"Intel isn't getting shot at, Corporal! Either you follow my orders or haul your ass to the rear!"
***
0610 hours
"Come over here, Dunphy. You too, King," Doc said to Dim and Angel. "Let's roll the Sarge onto this and get him back to the company aid station."
Scream moaned softly from the discomfort of his injuries as Dim and Angel rolled him sideways, careful not to twist his neck in a bad direction. Doc slid the makeshift litter under the squad leader and then guided the privates in letting him down gently.
"We can follow this alley all the way back to the phase line at the ring road, where the snipers and ambulances had been set up," Dim said, pointing down the alley away from the weapons fire in the adjacent street.
"Okay," Doc replied. He motioned for Mrs. B and Doublewide to bring the prisoners out. "Since our Sarge is down, I've got the rank. We're moving back to the company start line to get help. We've got no signals with the platoon net or the company CP. This is the only viable solution."
"We can't go without Smoke and Nassiri," Doublewide interjected.
"What are you talking about?" Doc asked. "Get them out here to cover us, and let's move. Privates King and Dunphy have to carry the litter while I monitor the Sarge."
"They're between us and the insurgents, and plan on stopping them first."
"We can't wait," Doc urged. "Any moment we waste could make the Sarge's condition worse, or exacerbate an injury I haven't found yet. He's got a concussion for sure, plus the bleeding from his scalp. We're going, now!"
"I'll tell Smoke and Tariq to get out, then," Del Rio said, slipping back into the house one final time.
***
"You hear that, Smoke?" Nassiri asked. "Sounded like footsteps."
"I still can't hear shit but a ringing and yer voice," Smoke growled. "I'm watching for those fuckers in the street to come knocking, 'kay?"
Nassiri was almost startled when Del Rio whispered from behind them. "We have to go. Doc says the Sarge needs to be evacuated yesterday. You're coming with us."
"Like hell we are," Nassiri replied. "We're gonna take these insurgents out for this. Now, it's revenge time! Get the prisoners and the Sarge to safety. We'll hook up with the platoon after we blow these bad guys to hell and back!"
"Suit yourselves," Del Rio said. Without a further word, she hurried out to the alley.
After Del Rio left, Smoke nudged Nassiri in the ribs with his right elbow. "Got movement in the doorway. Get ready."
Some of the toppled masonry around the house's front door fell away as two insurgents poked their Kalashnikov rifles inside. One looked like he was favoring his left leg and had tied a strip of cloth around a bullet wound on his right thigh. American counter fire was getting closer, and the reports of M-203 grenade launchers lobbing a volley of nonlethal flechette rounds at the bad guys was discernable over Smoke's ear ringing.
"Suck 'em in," Smoke whispered. He held the clacker up next to the foregrip of his M-249 and eased his trigger finger against the curved metal guard.
All six insurgents clustered in the doorway, as two of them shoved hard at the furniture barricade. They spoke hurriedly in rapid-fire Arabic, in between bursts of fire from their AK's. One of them groaned from several hits inflicted by flechette darts - he had been the trail man of the group and was covering the cell's approach to the house.
When Smoke was satisfied that the insurgents were close enough, he pulled a cotter pin from the clacker and squeezed the detonator assembly hard. Less than a second later, the barricade of furniture exploded in a shower of debris. The Claymore mine that Scream had drawn for the ambush directed its blast up and out of the house, hurling hundreds of deadly ball bearings in a cone-shaped pattern, cutting all six of the clustered together insurgents down.
The Iraqis began to scream in pain, collapsing to the ground from numerous wounds. One of them still had an AK at the ready, and his finger twitched on the trigger, cooking off a brace of bullets that stitched their way along the wall near where Smoke and Nassiri had their cover.
"Fire!" Nassiri shouted, pulling the trigger of his M-4. Smoke dropped the now-useless detonator and tightened his grip on the M-249, spraying bullets into the foyer.
***
"There's an explosion near First Squad's position!" Murphy reported as his fire team dove for cover. "I think it took out the insurgents! There's also more weapons fire coming from the house!"
"Advance carefully and don't get hit," Lt. Hunter replied. "Make sure those insurgents are down!"
"They're still screaming and moving around, Smoke," Nassiri observed after they took a moment to stop shooting and listen. "Should we open up again?"
"Dunno," Smoke replied. "My ears still ain't clear of the ringing. What do you hear?"
"Sounds like they're moving a lot, scrambling around in the street. But the firing from our guys seems to have died down too."
"Stay ready then," Smoke said. "If we see something move in that doorway, we'll blow it off."
Sergeant First Class Murphy picked his way forward to the sidewalk in front of the Wakhar house, stepping over some of the screaming insurgents as his fire team disarmed them and stood over the enemy fighters with rifle barrels leveled.
"Don't kill them after the fact," Murphy ordered his team. "Geneva Convention overrides what the lootenant says. Just watch 'em and we'll call in the Intel boys and medics soon as they're all secured."
Murphy approached the doorway carefully, walking softly and hugging the masonry outer wall to check on the insurgents that had almost entered the foyer when Smoke triggered the Claymore.
"Someone's still moving out there," Smoke whispered. "There's a shadow movin' around."
"I've still got half a mag left," Nassiri replied. "How's your last belt holding out?"
Smoke took a look at the soft, rectangular bag that contained his ammunition belt. With his supporting hand, he jiggled it to feel the weight. "I think I have about half left," he answered softly.
"When we see the whites of his eyes, then?"
"Sure, why not?"
Murphy touched the lifeless body of one of the insurgents who was standing at the epicenter of the Claymore detonation. "First Squad!" he called into the house. "It's Sergeant Murphy! Cease fire! We've got 'em!"
"Sergeant Murphy?" Nassiri queried, his rifle up just in case it was a trick.
"Yeah, it's Murphy!" Murphy yelled. "What, do you wanna check my driver's license? Who's in there?"
"Williams and Nassiri, Sarge," Smoke replied. "Sergeant Silas was injured. Doc, Dunphy and King humped him out to the staging area, along with two prisoners and Privates Del Rio and Mitchell."
"You two are relieved," Murphy said, leaning into the foyer to show the soldiers his face. Smoke and Nassiri instantly relaxed. "Good job, soldiers. Let's get you out of there. Lieutenant Hunter's gonna want a report on your squad..."
Next Part: The Backlash