Frustration - by Abu Niza (pseudonym)

A three tour veteran of the Iraqi war, and commander of a military anti-terrorism unit, writes about events in 2004 - so long ago!

In the first days of the Battle of Fallujah, my battalion had seized and cleared the southeastern quarter of the city.  Our sister battalion had fought their way into the northwest of the city and we were told that the two major bridges on the west side of the city had been blown up to prevent terrorists from escaping to Syria.  Nearly a month had gone by since we had been ordered to halt our offensive.  I spent my days working with different sniper teams, occupying “hides” in buildings and on rooftops. 

 Shortly after we had begun our decisive push through the terrorist haven we were told that “City Fathers” had approached the Iraqi governing counsel and Coalition Forces to negotiate on behalf of the terrorists.  Our offense was suspended and we simply held our positions.  The cool weather became scorching and a daily monotony set in. 

 We slept on piles of debris or rooftops and feasted on MRE’s- prepackaged rations.  Marines began rotating to a forward operating base for a shower and a meal.  After the Marines had the opportunity for rejuvenation, the officers began rotating to the “F.O.B” also.  I had the opportunity to replace a filling I had lost a couple of weeks earlier and check my e-mail. I was ecstatic.  My girlfriend was professing her love for me at that time and my inbox was full of her sexy plans for my return to Florida.  I returned to the city with a smile on my face.

 The daily tedium was intermittently broken by bizarre events.  We grew accustomed to shooting snipers and others who attacked us during the “cessation of hostilities” and occasionally shifted positions to dodge mortar and RPG attacks.  We were ordered to shoot only terrorists displaying “hostile intent”.  Terrorists began to move openly with AK-47’s in hand.

 We regularly observed armed terrorists emerging from their favorite taxi: the Red Crescent ambulances.  We continued to plan and stand by for the resumption of the offensive.  We received reports that the terrorists were using the time to fortify their positions and booby-trap the remaining portions of the city.

 We were told that the terrorists agreed to surrender their weapons and in return a small number of families would initially be allowed to return to the city the following morning.  When almost no functioning weapons were turned in, we were surprised to see the stream of people passing our position back into the city.  Fifty families at a time consisting of up to fifty people each were allowed back into the city anyway.  Many of the families I observed consisted solely of males in their twenties to thirties.  Each day more were allowed in.

 Mosques were abundant enough in Fallujah that one was never deprived of their almost continuous speaker messages.  “Allah Akhbar”, praise god, was common and we all grew to recognize the regular calls to prayer.  We listened with interest as exhortations to murder those that supported the new Iraqi government were translated to us.  On one occasion, when Marines were forced to defend themselves against a terrorist attack our translator shared the mosque’s immediate message, “Thank you for your sacrifice. Come to me.  Come to me”.  The results of a gunfight being a foregone conclusion even for the supporters of the terrorists. 

 I observed an armed terrorist crawl up to our position in the dark and yell “ Help me, Help me” in English and attempt to draw us into an ambush.  The daily heat and monotony contrasted sharply with the surreal qualities of bizarre events.  I was told that the news of the two bridges on the west of Fallujah being dropped was premature and that had not been approved.  I was updated daily on our newest plans for the offensive until the end of the month approached. 

 I was on the roof of a hotel just south of the Blue Mosque at the center of Fallujah.  Eric P, my radioman, and two two man sniper teams scanned the darkness for our next attackers.  As I lay on my stomach looking through a thermal scope, a Marine called to me from inside the ladder well.  I crawled over to him.  He told me we were withdrawing. There was  a Hummer waiting for us behind the building.  I couldn’t believe it.  In a matter of minutes the Marines left Fallujah.

 1^st Marine Expeditionary Force Commander, Lt General James Conway, later publicly expressed regret that we were ordered to leave the city to the terrorists.  I may be alive today because of that order.  Some lives were certainly spared for the short term because of it, but our Commander’s sentiment coursed through our veins. 

 After the Battle of Fallujah I reattached to an element raiding and patrolling against Abu Zarqawi’s organization and other terrorists in the surrounding areas.  I have submitted Eric P, my radioman, for the Navy Commendation Medal for valor for his cumulative acts of bravery during this Iraq tour.  He volunteered for another.  I have rotated to another anti-terrorism assignment. 

 For me, my Iraq tours were just an adventure and an opportunity to confront modern sadists- at worst, an inconvenience for a few years of my life.  I will never forget the Marines we lost. Every day, I think of our brothers who came home with wounds far greater than my own.  I am proud to have served with men willing to risk all to oppose evil.  The First Battalion, Fifth Marines is currently preparing for it’s third deployment to Iraq.