Column: A Soldier’s Notebook; Mission counterfire: A soldier’s daily fight
It’s approximately 4:40 a.m. local time in Ramadi, Iraq. A small group of insurgents quickly dismount their vehicle in a field north of the Euphrates. In a few short minutes, they have set up a mortar tube aimed at a U.S. base nearby.
They are hoping to catch the Americans off guard with the early-morning attack. One holds the tube while another starts dropping rounds into it. With a loud pop, they are propelled towards the base where most U.S. soldiers are still sleeping soundly.
Meanwhile, four soldiers sit in a makeshift shack, built just off the runway inside the base. Three are sleeping, while the other sips coffee in an effort to fight off fatigue. As he pours another cup, the radio cracks to life with a short, but clear message.
“Counterfire! Counterfire!”
The radar teams have picked up an acquisition from the incoming enemy fire. Immediately, all four are alert and running toward their M109A6 Paladin Howitzer. It is a long-range weapon designed to engage the enemy, even though you can’t see him. One soldier fires up the engine, while the others take their respective “battle stations.”
At the same time, other soldiers in the Fire Direction Center are scrambling to work up firing data and clear the airspace. As they do, it is sent digitally to the guns down by the runway.
The chief hits a button on the computer, and using the firing data, the gun traverses and elevates to lay on the target. For a few short moments, the crew stands, quietly awaiting their orders. Over the roar of the engine, a muffled explosion can be heard in the distance. The rounds have impacted the base.
Over the radio comes the voice command, “Cancel – do not load, fire when ready!” Immediately, the crew flies into action. Before the sentence is finished, the chief is yelling, “Ram it!” as a crewmember throws the 110-pound round into the tube. The charge is set, the breech is closed and the chief gives one last glance at the screen to verify. He yells “Fire!” and the crewman pulls the firing mechanism.
The gun roars and rocks the vehicle and crew back eight to 10 inches. Smoke and the smell of gunpowder fill the cabin as the chief yells, “Next round, let’s go!” The crew repeats the process numerous times until they have put sufficient fire on the target.
After they’ve worked up a sweat, the command comes down, “End of Mission.”
The soldiers shut down the engine and step back into the cool morning air. A short discussion ensues as to the fate of those on the receiving end of their actions. Their muzzle blast has kicked up dust and part of their shack’s roof is lying in the middle of the runway. Two of the soldiers lay back down to sleep, while the others go about fixing the roof, just as they have done many times before.
This is the mission my friends and I take part in every day here in Iraq. And it all happens in about the time it takes you to walk from the Merrill to the TSC. It probably doesn’t sound like much, but believe me, you feel the responsibility of it after you’ve sent that round on its way.
It’s what we do, though, and we’re always here, and always ready.
Sgt. Jared Johnson will be a senior at USU majoring in business next fall after he has returned from Iraq.