Three IEDs Missed, Three IEDs Hit

Riding in the back of a Bradley, cramped on a bench with three other dudes, my ass was already numb from the constant vibrations as the 35 ton vehicle made its way up Route Detroit. We were en route to a village on the outskirts of Buhriz to conduct another cordon and search. More kicking in doors if the family inside didn’t let us in quick enough, another day of zip cuffing every military aged male and blindfolding them in their own homes while we send the women and children outside to the yard and commenced to tearing their homes apart searching for weapons or any other contraband they weren’t supposed to have. It was an empowering feeling to be able to do whatever the fuck you wanted, within reason of course, but sometimes you felt like a real dick head and could understand why they didn’t like us coming around. But when you keep getting blown up in front of these same people’s homes, you don’t really care about upsetting them and messing up their bedrooms if it gets you closer to stopping the bombs and making it home alive. But today, we wouldn’t be inconveniencing any Iraqi family because we would never make it to our destination.
We had two Bradley’s that day, SSG Johnson leading in the front, LT commanding the rear Brad with myself and my dismount team in the back. I had the internal communications headset on and was monitoring the radio traffic going on in between the two vehicles when I heard SSG Johnson say he knew a route we could take cross-country that would minimize our exposure to IEDs on the paved highway.
“Sir, do not let Sargn’t Johnson take that same fucking path by that one vineyard where we found that cache. He’s used it so much it looks like a fucking dirt road. I guarantee you there will be an IED there.” I advised the LT. The “short-cut” SSG Johnson had referred to led across open farmlands and cut through a very narrow chokepoint in between a dike and a canal. We’d used it so much that there was no longer any vegetation on it. Our Bradley’s had basically created a dirt road that any insurgent with half a brain could tell we often used.
“Yeah I’m tracking Walter. Don’t worry about it.” LT replied. Even though he assured me we wouldn’t use that route I didn’t feel very confident that he even knew where exactly I was talking about.
I felt the front end of the Bradley dip down as it got off the road. The two bodies sitting next to me slid forward and pressed me uncomfortably against the turret door. We hadn’t been off the highway for 20 seconds when a sudden jolt and loud crack rocked the Bradley. All the dust inside the dismount compartment leapt off whatever surface it had covered and created a choking cloud in the vehicle.
“Motherfucker!” I yelled.
“FUCK! IED!” LT shouted.
CPL Clark, one of our platoon’s medics immediately began grabbing everyone within arm’s reach and shouting “You OK!? You good!?”.
“You guys all right up there!?” I asked through the microphone.
LT replied first, “I’m up. Schmidt you all right!?”
SGT Schmidt, the gunner replied “Yeah, I’m good! You guys all right back there?”
“We’re all right, everyone’s good back here.” I replied.
Schmidt then called to Green, the driver “Green, you all right down there?”
Silence.
The three of us with headsets began shouting for Green at once. “Green! Green! Are you OK!?”
The thought of what happened to Fairlie immediately flashed through my mind and I became very worried for my friend in the driver’s hole. CPL Clark was sitting nearest the driver so I hollered at him to see if Green was ok.
“Can’t tell! I can’t see shit!” Smoke and dust were swirling around in the back of the Brad.
Green finally spoke up, his voice trembling “Yeahh, I’m…I’m…I’m all right. I’m good. I’m good.” Instant relief. My shoulders relaxed and I let out a deep breath. LT called SSG Johnson and told him we were all alive and whole.
LT and Schmidt were talking back and forth. The turret had lost power and when Green tried to drive the Bradley forward we could hear the track falling off as we came to a halt.
“It hit the front right side. Blew a road wheel off, threw the track.” LT said.
“Sir, drop the ramp and let us out, we’ll clear the area and pull security while you guys work this shit out.” I suggested.
As I stepped out of the vehicle I warned my dudes to get the hell away from the Bradley and watch out for any secondary IEDs. Off to my right I saw the vineyard where we’d found the cache a month before. We were on the same fucking path I told LT not to let SSG Johnson take. This upset me, to say the least. I wanted to yell and curse LT and SSG Johnson for taking such an obvious route but given my rank and the fact that it wouldn’t do any good anyhow, I let it go.
We started making our way towards the vineyard to search for anyone who may have been involved in the attack. LT ordered us to hold up until the QRF arrived. We took cover in a ditch and bitched about being told to hold our move and wait for Bradley’s to support us. We’d done dozens of missions without any vehicles to support us and with fewer personnel. It didn’t make any since to us but the butter-bar set his foot down when we objected and that was that. An Air Weapons Team arrived before the QRF did and LT had them cover our move into the vineyard.
We’d cleared about halfway through as SSG Johnson’s Bradley began towing LT’s back through the chokepoint. I was walking point and I’d turned around to say something to SSG J when I saw a huge plume of dirt and smoke shooting into the air about 200 meters back, where the Bradley’s were. I managed to get out the words “Oh shit” before the sound of the explosion from the second IED hit us.
We began running back through the vineyard to the Bradley’s when SSG Johnson got on the radio and told us they were all okay and that the IED did little damage. They found pressure wire from the second IED at the blast site. Somehow, when we first rolled through the chokepoint, neither Bradley had hit that IED.
2nd Platoon’s Bradley’s showed up with SSG Stadel in the lead. He stopped at our location and asked us if we wanted a ride over to our Brad’s.
“Fuck that shit, that’s two IEDs back to back, I’m walking.” I told SSG J. He agreed it was probably safer to be on our feet rather than riding in the back of a Bradley around here. We made our way back to the Brad’s and began searching the dikes and culverts on the opposite side of the IED sites. SSG J had gone over to help SSG Johnson, who was now dismounted and searching through the chokepoint for any more IEDs.
“That’s two IEDs we missed man, if I was LT I wouldn’t be going back through that chokepoint, I’d find another way back to Detroit.” I said. Lobban nodded in agreement.
As the Brad’s again began pushing through, my team and I were about 100 meters away when I saw a third IED detonate directly in front of the lead Brad. SSG J was standing no more than ten feet from it and I watched his body get thrown to the ground from the blast. SSG Stadel, who was also on the ground at this point, sprinted over to him yelling “Medic! Medic!”. I started to move towards them but froze after a few steps. That’s three fucking IEDs, I thought to myself, this is a fucking minefield. I looked to the ground and saw all the track marks from where we’d previously used this area to travel cross-country. In anyone of these spots there could be more pressure wires that would only take the weight of my body to set off the artillery rounds they’d be connected to.
A few seconds later I began hearing a fwip fwip fwip sound I’d heard before when shrapnel was falling from the sky and landing around me. I looked at my dudes who were diving to the ground for cover. Trouble was, there wasn’t any cover since we were moving through wide open farm land. So, I stood as erect as possible, sort of angled my body in the direction of the IED blast site, and thought; Please don’t hit me. Please don’t hit me. Please don’t hit me. A piece of shrapnel the size of a baseball landed about one meter right in front me. It was still smoking when I picked it up and was so hot it began to burn my hand through the Nomex glove I had on. Damn, I thought, if that thing had hit me in the shoulder it could’ve taken my arm off.
I looked up and saw SSG J standing there, brushing himself off and shaking his body like a wet dog does to dry off. One lucky bastard. Again, no one was hurt and LT finally decided to take a different path back to the highway. It only took two secondary IEDs to convince him to do so. I carefully led my dudes back to Route Detroit, my eyes glued to the dirt for any signs of buried explosives.
When we all finally made it safely back onto Route Detroit, my team crammed in the back of a Brad along with LT’s crew. SGT Schmidt had a grin from to ear to ear. He was happy as hell at the fact that we’d just hit three IEDs in a matter of 30 minutes and no one was hurt. His hands were still shaking though as he smoked his cigarette. LT just stared off into space and I could see he was a little shaken up. We never should’ve gone down that fucking dirt road to begin with, I thought to myself.