“NOW THIS IS NOT THE END. IT IS NOT EVEN THE BEGINNING OF THE END. BUT IT IS, PERHAPS, THE END OF THE BEGINNING.”

– Winston Churchill –

CHAPTER 3: FRUITS OF VICTORY

UPON OUR RETURN FROM DESERT STORM IN MARCH 1991, THE city of Savannah treated us like conquering heroes, hosting a victory parade while most merchants offered 20 percent discounts to returning veterans. The parade traveled through the heart of the city, culminating at River Street, a popular tourist destination known for its nightlife. We marched past a jubilant crowd packed three deep along the yellow ribbon lined route. As we made the turn onto River Street, I saw a crowd of bikers in their forties cheering wildly. As we came closer, I could see the POW/MIA patches and American flags on their leather jackets. The Vietnam vets had come out in force, giving us the welcome home they never received.

Like many of the returning veterans, Debora and I embarked on our own “Operation Desert Stork,” the spike in pregnancies among the families of soldiers returning from the desert. In May 1991, I achieved my career goal as I took command of Alpha Company, 3-69 AR—Assassins. Our battalion went to the field immediately and began preparing for the next war. Throughout the summer and fall, we maneuvered through the pine forests of Georgia, preparing for our National Training Center (NTC) rotation to Fort Irwin, California, in November. The NTC remains the Army’s premier training facility where armored units train in as close to, if not harder than, actual combat conditions. Commanding a tank company during a National Training Center rotation was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

Debora was nine months pregnant at the time I left for California. A debate still rages in our home over the timing of her due date and my scheduled return date. I remember there being a couple of days cushion, whereas Debora remembers there being no chance of my return before the birth. Our good friend Jennifer Steel, a neighbor from the Palmetto bug-infested townhouse days, volunteered to be the backup birth coach.

At 0500 hours on 11 December, I was scanning the horizon in the turret of my M1A1 tank ready to lead my company on an attack across the central corridor when First Sergeant David Motley drove up in his Humvee, waving his arms. At the time, the division had a policy banning canvas roofs on the vehicles, and a rare rainstorm had soaked the high desert. First Sergeant Motley hopped out of the vehicle and yelled above the whine of the Abrams’ turbine engine, “Your wife had the kid yesterday.”

The first sergeant had, at least, four ex-wives, so family events really did not faze him.

“Is it a boy or girl?” I yelled down.

Oddly, that question confused him. Written on a three-by-five-inch card in water-based marker were the details of my daughter’s birth. First Sergeant looked blankly at the rain-smeared ink on the card, shook his head, and then looked back up to me

“Yes,” he replied sheepishly.

“Is the baby healthy?” I yelled down over the whine of the turbine engine.

First Sergeant was ready for that one. “Yes!” he replied.

“Ok, Top. Thanks. Gotta roll,” I yelled down and took off across the desert.

We had not settled on a girl’s name before my leaving, thinking there would be plenty of time for that when I got back. Honestly, I had been banking on a son, but when I finally got to a phone twelve hours later, Debora told me we had a second daughter.

“What did you name her?” I asked.

“Ashley Eleanor,” she told me.

“Why did you name her that?” I wondered aloud.

“You’re lucky I didn’t name her Jane Fonda Deane,” she replied.

Point taken. Obviously, Debora had assimilated into the Army life.

I was not the first soldier to miss the birth of a child and certainly not the last. That does not diminish the sacrifices that military wives make for their husband’s careers. The long separations, the early mornings and late nights alone while the husband gets ready for a field exercise or an inspection, weeks on end with their husbands in the field, having children without their fathers present, or having to raise children with husbands coming and going—all of these disrupt the family’s routine.

Debora continued working as a nurse. We did not want our children raised by babysitters, so she worked the night shift, and I watched the girls when I came home from work. Too often, I had to return to the office at night to finish paperwork. The duty NCOs learned to run out of the building when they saw me walking up to the company headquarters holding hands with a two-year-old and pushing a stroller. It was up to the poor private sitting at the desk to keep the kids entertained while I worked in my office.

My battalion commander spent the year trying to make up for his shortcomings in combat. He saw an upcoming division level inspection as his ticket back on the fast track, despite his tactical shortcomings. For weeks, we checked and rechecked every administrative detail. Two days prior to the inspection, he called the company commanders into the battalion conference room at 1700 hours to lay out his priorities for the final push. The meeting started out fine, with the commander listing his first three priorities:

A. Training schedules

B. Equipment accountability

C. Uniform inspection

At 2100 hours when he hit priority AW, his forty-ninth priority, I raised my hand and pointed out that there was no way of accomplishing all these tasks in the remaining thirty-two hours. The meeting ended abruptly, and I got another twenty minutes of quality time with the commander, who told me I was insubordinate while a vein throbbed on his left temple. (The company commanders all took it as a badge of honor when we could make him angry enough to make the vein throb.) The next morning, I decided that I would resign from the Army. My company clerk was typing my resignation paperwork when the battalion commander called me to his office for round two. After only five minutes of berating, he stopped. “Are you paying attention?” he asked, somewhat surprised.

“Sir, frankly, Sergeant Vorhees is typing my paperwork now. You’ll have my resignation by tonight,” I replied, defeated.

Army empathy training kicked in and the commander changed his tone. Suddenly, he was my best friend, I suspect mainly because most of the captains from the war had already resigned, and one more resignation was going to look bad for him. He told me to go home and take the rest of the day off to think about it.

Debora was concerned when I showed up at the house before noon. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I‘ve had it. I’m getting out,” I replied.

“Don’t let him keep you from doing what you love,” she countered.

That was good enough for me. I went back to the office, ripped up my resignation, and the next morning passed the division maintenance inspection with the highest ranking up to that point.

After eighteen months, I was selected for a second command, the brigade headquarters company. The brigade commander, Colonel John Lemoyne, had four tours in Vietnam and commanded 1st Brigade, 24th ID during the destruction of Saddam’s Republican Guard along the “Highway of Death” in Desert Storm. He was a true gentleman, a great warrior, and mentor. It was an honor to work for him. Although I had planned to get out of the Army after company command, I really did love life as a soldier. The Army was going through a drawdown and many of our good friends from Germany and Fort Stewart had decided to depart for civilian life. Although I had good efficiency reports and was a two-time company commander, I was by no means a “golden boy.” There was a very real possibility of the Army giving me a $30,000 dollar severance check and a slap on the back if I missed a promotion gate.

Debora liked the Army life as well. The choice to stay in or get out of the Army is truly a family decision, one that we made together. Thanks to the Army community and a great network of friends—and despite the odds not being in our favor—we decided to stay in for the long haul. I would make the Army my career.

The Army mobilized three National Guard combat brigades for Operation Desert Storm,58 and none of them certified their readiness and deployed to combat. This caused hard feelings among active duty and National Guard soldiers alike. The active Army’s answer to increasing readiness of National Guard units was “Project 2000,” sending two thousand combat-veteran officers and senior NCOs to serve as advisors to Guard battalions and brigades.

Our family moved to Fort Dix, New Jersey, in September 1993 where I served as an advisor to the 50th Armored Brigade, the “Jersey Blues.” The guardsmen were true patriots, serving their country in addition to having full-time jobs. The commitment they showed trying to be good at their military job and their civilian job far exceeded what many of my active duty peers had shown.

The Army manages officers by “year group,” based on the date an officer first enters active duty, and their occupational specialty. The year group forms the soldier’s peers and competition for promotion, military schooling, and command for the rest of the time he is in the Army. The Army centralizes the management of officers in Washington, D.C., and announces promotions, schools or command via the all-important “list.” After company command, an officer spends the remainder of his career waiting on a list. Promotion lists, command lists, school lists—some kind of list tells the officer whether he is competitive for the next hurdle in his career path until he places himself on the retirement list.

The rule of thumb was that if you missed one list, you might as well call it quits. My particular year group, 1985, was large due to the number of armor officers required to stave off the Soviet Union at the height of the Cold War. By the end of Desert Storm, the peace dividend was all the rage, and the Army was downsizing from 772,000 soldiers in 1989 to 529,000 by 1995, offering incentives for officers to resign and decreasing promotion rates.59 For armor officers in my year group, there were three options: (1) stay and hope for the best on the next promotion list, (2) leave with a small severance package, or (3) change specialties to another career path.

Some of us stuck around while others read the writing on the wall and either got out or changed career fields to acquisition or foreign area officers. Selection for the resident Command and General Staff Officer College was critical for an officer’s career. Attendance nearly assured my promotion to lieutenant colonel and made me competitive to command a tank battalion. If not selected, then I had a 20 percent chance for promotion to lieutenant colonel and retirement, and there was no guarantee of that.

Officers had four opportunities for selection to school. Once a year, a board of senior officers convened to select the attendees. The selection rate over the four years was 50 percent; with each successive year that an officer’s name was not on the list, the further he was from the top of his year group. My assignment officer assured me that selection to the course was a given, and I even had a fifty-fifty chance for early selection to major. He went as far as offering me an assignment to Fort Leavenworth with the prestigious Battle Command Training Program (BCTP) where I would get to participate in brigade through four-star headquarters computer-simulated exercises and not have to make another move to attend the course.

We were packing out our house on Fort Dix for the move to Fort Leavenworth to await the promotion and schooling board results. I received a phone call welcoming me to my new assignment to the Command and General Staff College. Immediately I called my assignment officer back, but he assured me there was nothing he could do to help. My new duties were as an assistant operations officer, responsible for putting on official ceremonies. It was a joyless nine-to-five assignment, and I was one of maybe five captains in the entire staff of three hundred majors and lieutenant colonels. Kindergarten-aged Allison once asked me, “Daddy, what’s your job?”

“I’m a soldier in the Army!” I replied proudly.

“No, you’re not,” she responded, “You don’t have a tank. You don’t have a gun. You don’t go to the field.”

Perhaps she had a point. One day as I scurried about making final preparation for the arrival of the Chief of Staff of the Army, I heard the jingle of spurs behind me. I turned and saw Colonel Mike Kain, an outstanding cavalryman in his own right and the college’s Director of Tactics.

“Why is an armor captain working as a lackey at the college?” he asked.

I told him my story, and he promised to get me assigned to BCTP, where he was assuming command in a couple of weeks. In the new assignment, I would serve as part of the opposing forces (OPFOR), playing the role of the enemy commander for the exercise. It was an invaluable experience and taught me how to think like the enemy and to see the vulnerabilities in U.S. Army units, something that would serve me well in the future. In 1995, I was one of the sixty-three percent of my peers on the promotion list to major. In 1996, I pinned on major’s oak leaves but was still waiting for selection to school. The same thing happened the next year. While waiting pensively for the publication of the fourth year’s school selection results, I received a call from my assignment officer asking where I wanted to move to next.

“Hey, I‘m prepositioned here for school. I still have one more look. I want to stay here at Leavenworth,” I told him.

“Yeah, you don’t really need to worry about going to school, and you should probably focus on completing the non-resident program,” he replied.

“Oh,” was all I could think to say.

Apparently my career in the eyes of the Army was about over. As another assignment officer put it to me, I was an organ donor, a back for others to step on as they rose through the ranks. I again thought long and hard about getting out of the Army, going as far as making a pro and con list of the benefits of staying in. The cons far outweighed the pros.

“Do you like being in the Army or not?” Debora asked me as she saw my list.

“Yes,” I told her.

“Then why are you bothering to make a list?” she asked.

Fortunately, my commander at Leavenworth, Colonel Norm Gretchen, intervened and facilitated an assignment for me to the National Training Center at Fort Irwin, California, in March 1998. We pulled the girls out of school, packed up, and headed west. Fort Irwin was an oasis in the middle of the desolate Mojave Desert, located north of Barstow, just south of Death Valley, thirty-eight miles from nowhere, but two hundred miles from everything. Desert tortoises, coyotes, roadrunners, and feral mules—descended from the teams working the borax mines—ruled this part of the Mojave. Founded in 1846 as a camp for the Mormon Battalion before its deployment to fight in the Mexican War, the Army erected a stone fort on the site in 1860 to serve as a base camp during the Indian wars. In 1940, President Franklin Roosevelt established it as a military reservation, designated as the Mojave Anti-Aircraft Gunnery Range. In 1942, General George Patton established an armored-vehicle desert training area on the site prior to the North African Campaign.60 The Army used this area intermittently in conjunction with the California National Guard until 1981, when the thousand square miles of nothing became the nation’s premier training center.⁶¹

Brigade-sized units from all over the country came to Fort Irwin for a month-long training exercise where they fought simulated battles against a fully trained and equipped enemy opposing force. Sensors tracked the location of every vehicle, and lasers replicated the firing of weapons during each battle. The training unit also had the benefit of a team of Observer/Controllers following them throughout the exercise, providing feedback on its performance. The National Training Center replicated combat conditions and, in many ways, it was harder than the fight we had in Desert Storm.

There I had the opportunity to work for and alongside some of some of the best leaders in the Army, including two of the best armor generals of their generation, Brigadier General Glen Webster and Brigadier General J.D. Thurman. I also had three great mentors, Colonel Tim Reischl, Colonel Florian Rothbrust, and Lieutenant Colonel Sam Hawes, each of whom apparently saw in me something that the Army selection boards did not.

After fifteen months on the headquarters’ staff, I became the operations officer for the 2nd Squadron, 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment—Eaglehorse Squadron—of the Blackhorse Regiment. The Blackhorse is a storied unit, tracing its lineage back to the horse cavalry at the turn of the twentieth century. In the last fifty years alone, the regiment saw service in Vietnam and guarding the Inner German Border during the Cold War. Now the regiment served as the OPFOR, replicating Soviet-style forces and fighting predominately Army mechanized units. I had two great commanders, Lieutenant Colonel Mark Ritter, the squadron commander, and Colonel John Rosenberger, the regimental commander. I learned my profession as an armor officer in the sands of the Mojave Desert, although, frankly, because of serving twice in the OPFOR, I knew more about Soviet doctrine than I did U.S. Army doctrine.

The unofficial motto of the National Training Center was “Life be hard in the desert.” It was intentionally challenging and uncomfortable for the training units because, after all, we were replicating combat conditions; but it was also hard on the soldiers and their families permanently stationed there. It was thirty-eight miles down a barren two-lane road across the Mojave, over Jackhammer Pass to the nearest Wal-Mart in Barstow. Most soldiers worked a “rotational schedule” of twenty-eight days on, followed by four days off. During the four-day weekends, the post cleared out, and everyone headed to Las Vegas, L.A., or to the beach in San Diego. Then we would do it over again, ten times a year. We shared an overwhelming sense of community and had an all-star team’s worth of talented people working together to train the Army. It was the most professionally educating assignment in my career.

My two assignments in the opposing forces allowed me to look at tactical problems from the enemy’s point of view. “What would I do if I was the enemy?” was the first question I asked myself, and then I would prepare my plan from there. A few years later, I applied that same mentality to the operational-level problems that the enemy presented in Iraq. What would I do if I were Al Qaeda or Mujahedeen? Then we would work out a plan to try to counter what I thought they would do.

My last year at Fort Irwin, I was lucky enough to be selected as the Secretary of the General Staff for Brigadier General James D. Thurman. He was the hardest-working man in uniform, and always kept his sense of humor, no matter how bad the situation. I personally learned mountains about leadership just by being around him all day.

In June 2001, Debora, Allison, Ashley, and two dogs packed into our van for a cross-country trip to catch a flight to a NATO assignment in Naples, Italy. The military flight from Norfolk, Virginia, was the only one that could guarantee the dogs arriving with us. As we were leaving Fort Irwin, I found out I was on the promotion list to lieutenant colonel, the goal line for a “successful career” in the peacetime Army. I planned to serve three years in Italy, then return to the States for a final assignment, then hang up my spurs.

Serving in Naples was an exciting experience. We were only a few hours train ride from Debora’s family in Florence, and the girls attended an Italian Montessori school on base alongside children from twenty countries. We lived in a house located high on the rim of a dormant volcano and greatly enjoyed the beauty of southern Italy. I served as a plans and policy officer, and had responsibility for overseeing the Mediterranean Dialogue Program, NATO’s military outreach to the Maghreb and Levant Nations. I had the opportunity to travel throughout Europe and North Africa, seeing these cultures first hand. Living in Naples and working alongside predominately Southern European officers from all branches of the military taught me that not everyone sees problems in the same manner as the U.S. Army, and it gave me insights into the Mediterranean culture that would pay dividends when I was in Iraq.

On 11 September 2001, I was standing outside the coffee bar in the basement of the headquarters building talking to Debora. The Italian deputy post commander walked up to us with an ashen expression.

“Tony, I am so sorry for your country,” he said.

I had no idea what he was talking about until he led me to a television in his office. There, via a grainy signal from an Italian station, I saw the second plane hit the south tower. Debora took the girls out of school and brought them back to our house in the village of Pozzuoli. Within an hour, all American personnel received orders to go to our houses and stay there. We sat in our homes for a week; isolated, watching the horrors unfold on the television.

Like every officer not in a combat unit, I called my assignment officer and tried to get into the fight. Since we had just moved to Italy, I had to serve in my current assignment for another eighteen months at a minimum. The peacetime manning rules were still in effect. In October 2001, I deployed to Kosovo for forty-five days to work at the NATO Headquarter in Pristina.

The next big cut for career advancement came during my sixteenth year on active duty when the Army published the battalion command list. If I was on the list, then the opportunity existed for higher rank and higher-level command. If I were on the battalion command alternate list, I would wait in the wings for an increase in the number of units in the Army, or for a currently serving battalion commander to have to leave command unexpectedly. If I were not on either list, then I would retire as a lieutenant colonel. I had overcome the odds by making it this far, and I was surprised when my name was on the alternate list. I saw being an alternate as a consolation prize for my career since, at best, only one or two battalion command slots open each year for officers on the alternate list. At least, I could tell the vets at the VFW after I retired that I was “that close” to commanding a battalion. My peers were taking command of tank battalions, and I was a staff officer in NATO.

When the Iraq War ramped up in 2002, I made the battalion command alternate list for the second time, but this time, it was small consolation. My peers as captains were now commanding tank battalions in the Kuwaiti desert, waiting to bring down Saddam Hussein while I was still drinking espressos in Naples. The war in Afghanistan was a fight for light infantrymen, and it appeared that the attack on Iraq would be over in a couple of weeks, followed by an orderly transition of government.

In fall 2003, I was sitting at home surfing the internet when I received an email from my assignments officer. He congratulated me on selection for a third time on the battalion command alternate list. By now, I had all but given up hope for battalion command. I was ready to get on with my next and probably final assignment as the Professor of Military Science at Seton Hall University. Our biggest decision now was whether to buy a house in New Jersey. Between the CGSC list and the battalion command list, I had perfected a ritual for a career ending omissions from a list that involved a bottle of scotch. I replied immediately, thanking him for the congratulatory note, and jokingly asking if I should go ahead and buy the house in New Jersey.

Immediately, a reply came back, “Call me tomorrow.” Within days, I received a phone call telling me that I would likely command a tank battalion in Germany. Debora responded to the change in plans without question. We went from getting ready to finish one last assignment and retire from the military to moving to back to the States for eleven months and then to Germany and combat. I had defied the odds and was now going to a fight that no one saw coming, one that would eventually take me to the worst area of Iraq.

In June 2004, we moved to New Jersey, where I served as the Professor of Military Science at Seton Hall. The university administration was extremely supportive of the ROTC program and the military in general, and I greatly admired my cadets’ resolve. When I graduated from college at the height of the Cold War, the threat of combat hung in the air, but these young men and women were graduating straight into a shooting war.

We rented a house in an affluent civilian neighborhood in Milburn, New Jersey, picking the town based on internet research indicating that the school system was highly regarded. Most of our neighbors had moved out of high-end Manhattan apartments when they had a second child. As a lieutenant colonel, I was in the top 2 percent of income in the military, but now I was in the bottom 10 percent of income in the neighborhood. My daughters kept coming home, asking if we were poor. The girls on Allison’s volleyball team were ready to sponsor a car wash to help pay the $200 for a team trip, while my biggest fear was that I would find a charity basket on our doorstep on either Thanksgiving or Christmas morning.

This was the first time we did not live in an “Army Town,” and initially, we were a bit apprehensive. The upside was that the cops let me park wherever I wanted; the downside was that people were always paying for my lunch. Everyone in the neighborhood welcomed us warmly. Chuck and Jermaine Rabin, Ed and Susan Ng, and David and Joan Adelman were wonderful friends and neighbors with whom we still keep in touch today. Most of our neighbors knew each other only from saying hello as they were going in and out of their driveways or having conversations while they were mowing the grass, but had not gotten to know each other socially. That never happens in a military community. Families participate in neighborhood bar-b-ques, block parties, and unit social functions, all which help to forge a bond not just between soldiers, but between the families as well. We carried this tradition with us to the extent that the year we were in New Jersey remains known in the neighborhood as the “Year of the Deanes.” When we left, our neighbors threw us a going away party.

Figure 4. Debora and I at Family Day in Grafenwoehr, 24 Sept 2005. Click on the photo for bonus features.

In June 2005, we packed off for Baumholder, Germany. Within three weeks of my taking command, the battalion deployed for extended training, leaving Debora and the girls alone to figure out life in a new community. Even though we were still in Germany and not in combat, the pre-deployment training separated the soldiers from their families just the same. We sent soldiers back to Baumholder when we could, and hosted a family day at the Grafenwoehr training area, where hundreds of family members rode six hours each way on a bus to see their soldiers for ten hours. I knew that the families wanted to spend as much time together as they could before deployment, but I also knew that what they really wanted was for their soldier to come home safely at the end of the deployment. Hard predeployment training was the best way to make that happen.

Although I had followed an untraditional career path, that course provided me with a broad base of experiences that I could now draw upon when it came to fighting in a non-traditional battle.

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Even before Operation Desert Storm, another, more dangerous threat was taking shape. Islamic terrorists—who had strung together a series of kidnappings, bombings, hijackings, and the defeat of the Soviets in Afghanistan over the past two decades—were coalescing around Osama bin Laden, a wealthy Saudi veteran mujahedeen fighter. In 1984, bin Laden began providing financial support to the Services Office, a front for recruiting an Islamic Army to fight the Soviets in Afghanistan, located in Peshawar, Pakistan, and led by Palestinian religious scholar Sheik Abdullah Azzam. By 1986, bin Laden established training camps of his own in Afghanistan and began associating with Ayman al-Zawahiri, leader of the Egyptian Islamist Jihad. Zawahiri had broader goals of creating an Islamic state not just in Afghanistan, but across the entire globe.

Bin Laden, along with Muhammad Atef and Abu Ubaidah al Banshiri, founded Al Qaeda (“The Base” or “The Foundation”) in 1989. While many of the “Afghan Arabs” that came to fight in Afghanistan throughout the 1980s were from the more secular Muslim Brotherhood school of thought (especially the Iraqis involved in fighting the Soviets), a number had a more radicalized view of Islam and flocked to Al Qaeda’s extremist vision. When the Soviets withdrew in defeat from Afghanistan on 15 February 1989, the radical Islamist elements saw this as a great victory, one they could replicate across the world. A struggle for control of the Services Office ensued, with Al Qaeda taking control following the murder of Sheik Azzam in a car bombing. Many of the fighters returned to their homes while Al Qaeda increased the number of training camps and guesthouses in Afghanistan.

When Saddam invaded Kuwait in 1990, bin Laden offered King Faud thirty thousand fighters to protect Saudi Arabia from the possible invasion by the more secular Iraqis. Faud instead turned to the United States for protection, infuriating bin Laden by inviting kafirs—non-believers or infidels—into the sacred land of Holy Mosques.62 When the Saudis expelled bin Laden in 1991 for publicly criticizing the royal family, he and his operation moved to Sudan, while maintaining Services Office satellites around the world poised as Islamic charities. By now, bin Laden was the Emir of the terror network and made members swear a Baya—oath of allegiance—to him personally and to Al Qaeda, and killing anyone who broke the oath.63 Almost immediately, Al Qaeda began plotting terrorist attacks and trying to acquire both nuclear and chemical weapons.⁶⁴

On 29 December 1992, Al Qaeda killed two Austrian tourists in an attack targeting U.S. troops billeted in a hotel in Aden, Yemen, en route to the Somalian humanitarian mission. Two months later, on 23 February 1993, Al Qaeda launched its first attack on American soil with the truck-bombing of the World Trade Center, carving out a nearly one hundred-foot crater running several stories, and killing six people while injuring over one thousand. The mastermind of that attack was Ramzi Yousef, nephew of 9/11 mastermind Khalid Sheikh Mohammed.⁶⁵ Also sentenced to life in prison for the attack was Sheik Omar Abdel Rahman, the blind cleric who was the spiritual leader of the Egyptian Islamic Jihad and leader of the Office of Services Al Kifah center in Brooklyn.⁶⁶

On 23 June 1993, prompt action by the FBI avoided an even bigger tragedy. Agents raided a warehouse in New York City where twelve Al Qaeda terrorists were making bombs for a coordinated attack on the Lincoln and Holland tunnels, the George Washington Bridge, the Statue of Liberty, the Federal Building, and the Diamond District along 47th Street. Also targeted was the United Nations, where Sudanese diplomats were aiding in the plot.⁶⁷

On 3-4 October 1993, al-Qaeda trained fighters killed eight American Rangers in Mogadishu, Somalia, operating as part of Operation Restore Hope. The attack led to the U.S. withdrawal from Somalia, a move hailed by bin Laden as “a great victory for the Islamic world.”⁶⁸ Later that year, Al Qaeda issued fatwas calling for the death of American troops stationed in Saudi Arabia, Yemen, and Somalia. On 23 August 1996, he released a fatwa entitled, “Message from Osama bin Laden to his Muslim Brothers in the Whole World and especially in the Arabian Peninsula: Declaration of Jihad against the Americans Occupying the Land of the Two Holy Mosques; Expel the Heretics from the Arabian Peninsula”—a long-winded title declaring war on America.⁶⁹

On August 7, 1998, nearly simultaneous attacks against the American embassies in Nairobi, Kenya, and Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, killed 224 people—including twelve Americans—with more than 4,500 wounded. Three weeks later, America took its first military action against Al Qaeda, with the questionable bombing of a pharmaceutical plant in Khartoum, Sudan, and six suspected terrorist training bases in Afghanistan. In a live broadcast from the White House, President Clinton announced, “Today we struck back,” because of “compelling information they were planning additional terrorist attacks against our citizens and others with the inevitable collateral casualties and ... seeking to acquire chemical weapons and other dangerous weapons.”70

Following the missile strikes, Sudanese government expelled bin Laden, and he took refuge in Afghanistan under the protection of the Taliban. Former ambassador to the Sudan, Timothy Carney, stated in a July 2002 Op-Ed that the Sudanese government was prepared to hand bin Laden over to Saudi Arabia for trial, but the overture was rejected by National Security Council members Richard Clarke and Susan Rice,⁷¹ a claim that was immediately rejected by National Security Adviser Sandy Berger.⁷²

From his new base in Afghanistan, bin Laden issued a series of fatwas, first announcing the “Declaration of Jihad Against the Americans Occupying the Land of the Two Holy Mosques; Expel the Heretics from the Arabian Peninsula,” then stating that Muslims should kill Americans—including civilians—anywhere in the world where they can be found. He continued citing American aggression against Islam and encouraged a jihad that would eliminate the Americans from the Arabian Peninsula. In a 29 May 1998 decree entitled, “The Nuclear Bomb of Islam,” bin Laden stated, “It is the duty of the Muslims to prepare as much force as possible to terrorize the enemies of God.”⁷³

On 12 October 2000, Al Qaeda suicide bombers in an explosive-laden small boat attacked the Navy destroyer USS Cole in the port of Aden, Yemen.⁷⁴ The blast tore a forty-foot gash in the hull, just above the waterline, killing seventeen sailors and injuring thirty-nine others.⁷⁵

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Despite the destruction of his military by Coalition forces in Desert Storm, in Saddam Hussein’s eyes, and the eyes of the Iraqi people, he was far from defeated. Although the Iraqi military was inept at fighting the Coalition, it was incredibly effective at suppressing its fellow citizens. Immediately following the 1991 ceasefire, Saddam unleashed the remnants of his Republican Guard forces, brutally crushing a popular uprising by the Shia in the south within weeks to regain access to the ports near Basra. Saddam then sent his forces north to attack the Kurds, who had taken control of the towns of Sulaymaniyah, Halabjah, Erbil, Dahuk, Zakho, and Kirkuk. Initially, the Kurds attempted to defend the cities using a traditional defense but were no match for Saddam’s tanks. An estimated one million Kurds tried to escape Saddam’s onslaught by heading to the mountainous region between Iraq and Turkey. The Iraqi army began using helicopters to rain machinegun and rocket fire down on the fleeing Kurds. The ensuing humanitarian crisis generated international outrage, while the Allies, especially the Turks on whose border events were unfolding, were ill-prepared to deal with the situation.76

On 5 April 1991, the United Nations passed Security Council Resolution 688,⁷⁷ condemning Saddam for the repression of his people. That night President George H. W. Bush was in California attending a celebration of the USO’s fiftieth anniversary hosted by Bob Hope, along with Secretary of Defense Richard B. Cheney, Joint Chiefs of Staff Chairman General Colin L. Powell, and National Security Adviser Brent Scowcroft. But he received several calls from British and French leaders concerning the escalating Kurdish crisis. The American leaders determined that it was time to act, setting in motion the herculean relief effort known as Operation Provide Comfort, commencing two days later.

President Bush stated the political objectives of the operation as being, “an interim measure designed to meet an immediate, penetrating humanitarian need. Our long-term objective remains the same for Iraqi Kurds, and indeed, for all Iraqi refugees, wherever they are, to return home and to live in peace, free from oppression, free to live their lives.”⁷⁸

The Coalition feared another genocide on the Kurdish people similar to the Anfal Campaigns. A broad coalition of American, British, Dutch, French, Italian, and Spanish among others sprang into action, facing a humanitarian crisis described by Secretary of State Howard Baker as “a gruesome tragedy.”⁷⁹ With the three objectives of (1) stop the dying and suffering; (2) temporarily resettle the refugees into camps; and (3) ultimately resettling the Kurds into their former homes,⁸⁰ Coalition forces rushed humanitarian assistance into Turkey, and then into Northern Iraq. Special Operations and conventional forces entered Northern Iraq and established safe zones, expelling Iraqi forces and setting the conditions for the return of the Kurds. The Americans, British, and French established “No-fly Zones” over northern and eventually southern Iraq.⁸¹

Even with the prompt action by the Coalition, it was too late. Despite devastating economic sanctions effectively stopping all legitimate trade or financial transactions with Iraq imposed in accordance with UN-Resolution 66182 after the invasion of Kuwait, and later expanded by UN Resolution 687⁸³ after the ceasefire on 3 April 1991 demanding Saddam turn over his WMD capability, Saddam consolidated his power throughout Iraq at the cost of his subjects. The world community recognized the impending humanitarian crisis in post-war Iraq and twice offered to ease the sanctions so Iraq could provide basic human necessities for its people by selling food for oil. Both times Saddam refused.

Throughout the postwar period, a defiant Saddam continued to spark international crises, ordering fighter aircraft and anti-aircraft batteries into the No-Fly Zones, firing on U.S. and British planes, and mounting armed incursions into Kuwait to retrieve equipment surrendered as a condition of the cease-fire agreement, including Silkworm coastal anti-ship missiles. On 13 January 1993, two years after the start of the Desert Storm air campaign, a combined force of U.S., British, and French warplanes struck military targets in Southern Iraq. This attack “was clearly intended to deliver a political message of allied resolve in the face of Iraqi defiance and not a crushing military blow.”⁸⁴ President Bush ordered a reinforced armored task force to Kuwait in a show of resolve⁸⁵ that would stay in place until the invasion in 2003. A defiant Saddam went on Iraqi television that night urging the “falcons” of his air force to fight the allies “the way you fought God’s enemies before.”⁸⁶

Only months after taking office, President Clinton addressed a national television audience on 26 June 1993, justifying his authorization of an attack on the Iraqi Intelligence Service in Baghdad in response to a thwarted assassination attempt on former President George H. W. Bush two months prior. Twenty-three Tomahawk missiles slammed into the Iraqi headquarters after midnight local time, effectively destroying the facility believed to be the birthplace of an elaborate assassination plot against the former President. The plan involved a remotely detonated a car bomb filled with 175-pounds of explosives on Bush Street in Kuwait City as the presidential motorcade made its way to a ceremony hosted by the Kuwaiti Emir honoring President Bush’s leadership during the Gulf War. If the car bomb failed to detonate, Wali Abdelhadi Ghazali, an Iraqi citizen, had a “bomb belt” and was prepared to wade through the adoring crowd and detonate himself next to the president.⁸⁷ Kuwaiti security forces found the explosive laden-Toyota Land Cruiser in Kuwait City on the first day of President Bush’s visit and quickly arrested sixteen conspirators. After an extensive investigation by the CIA and the Justice Department, indisputable forensic evidence linked the explosive components to a known Iraqi bomb maker. The would-be assassins had met with members of the Iraqi Intelligence Service in Basra, Iraq, two days earlier and smuggled the vehicle into Kuwait.

President Clinton was unusually direct in his condemnation of Saddam, stating, “We should not be surprised by such deeds, coming as they do from a regime like Saddam Hussein’s, which has ruled by atrocity, slaughtered its own people, invaded two neighbors, attacked others, and engaged in chemical and environmental warfare. Saddam has repeatedly violated the will and conscience of the international community. But this attempt at revenge by a tyrant against the leader of the world coalition that defeated him in war is particularly loathsome and cowardly. We thank God it was unsuccessful. The authorities who foiled it have the appreciation of all Americans.”88

In April 1995, the United Nations adopted Resolution 986,⁸⁹ the Oil-for-Food program, authorizing Iraq to sell $2 billion worth of oil every six months. The program call for twenty-five percent of the proceeds to go to Kuwait for war reparations, three percent going to the United Nations for administrative fees, and the remaining seventy-two percent specifically split between the three Northern provinces (Kurd) and the remaining fifteen (Arab) provinces in a thirteen to fifty-nine percent split. Saddam immediately rejected the proposal, and it was not until May the next year that the Iraqis and the United Nations reached an agreement, with the first of the relief supplies not reaching the Iraqi people until 20 March 1997.⁹⁰

Shortly after reaching the agreement with the UN, Saddam sent roughly three thousand tanks, artillery pieces, and armored personnel carriers to the town of Erbil,⁹¹ seeking a chance to retake northern Iraq in the chaos surrounding the Kurdish Civil War. The Kurds had returned to Iraq under the cover of Operation Provide Comfort and elected a Kurdish parliament seated in Erbil in May 1992. Within two years, fighting ensued between two rival factions, the Patriotic Union of Kurdistan (PUK), led by Jalal Talabani, and the Kurdistan Democratic Party (KDP), based in Iran, led by Masoud Barzani. Talabani, who would eventually become President of Iraq, held close ties to Baghdad but asked for Iranian support in his battle against the KDP. Iran sent members of the Islamic Movement of Kurdistan, veterans of the jihad against the Soviets, to assist Talabani, where they promptly established camps on the Iraqi-Kurdish/Iranian border that would late serve as transit points for foreign fighters moving into and later out of Afghanistan through Iran, including Jordanian-born jihadist Abu Musab al-Zarqawi.92 Barzani recognized the threat the Iranian-armed foreign jihadists presented and invited Saddam and his troops back into northern Iraq in May 1996, after seeing his advantage over the Iranian-backed Kurdistan Democratic Party slip away.⁹³ In response to the Iraqi troop movement, President Clinton ordered Operation Desert Strike on 3 September 1996, sending twenty-seven cruise missiles into Southern Iraq.⁹⁴

In all, Iraq sold $64.2 billion dollars’ worth of oil to 248 corporations and received $34.5 billion dollars’ worth of humanitarian assistance from 3,614 corporations, mainly located in nations that Iraq considered friendly, principally UN Security Council members Russia, France, and China. Saddam quickly began adding surcharges—after sales service fees and inland transportation fees—all covers for kickbacks, totaling $1.8 billion in illicit income with another $10.9 billion earned smuggling oil through Iran and Turkey.⁹⁵ The UN-sponsored Commission on Manipulation of Food for Oil Programme by the Iraqi Regime, headed by former U.S. Chairman of the Federal Reserve Paul Volcker, found the institution’s management inept and corrupt, and provided evidence that the program’s former director, Benon V. Sevan, received kickbacks.⁹⁶ Also called into question were business practices of the United Nations, including the Secretary General and his son, Kojo Annan, who was never indicted. Eventually numerous corporations, politicians, and individuals across the globe were indicted, including Sevan, who escaped to his native Cyprus to avoid prosecution.⁹⁷ While the Food for Oil Program did stave off the starvation of the Iraqi people,⁹⁸ much of the proceeds of the program went to fund Saddam’s lavish lifestyle and pay for his military.

During the interwar period, Saddam consolidated his power base, appointing his two sons, Uday and Qusay, to oversee parts of his security forces. Both sons were sociopaths, with the flamboyant Uday notorious across Iraq for having his bodyguards abduct women passing on the street to take to one of his rape rooms, torturing members of the Iraqi Olympic Soccer Team he considered performing poorly, and murdering anyone that displeased him. Qusay was more reserved but equally adept at murder and torture. He controlled both Saddam’s Special Security Organization and the Special Republican Guards. Together, they were the most hated men in Iraq.99

Saddam established the paramilitary Fedayeen Saddam, “Saddam’s Men of Sacrifice,” in 1995 under the control of Uday. The Fedayeen consisted of Sunni men aged sixteen and up—armed with rifles, machineguns, rocket-powered grenade launchers, and truck-mounted artillery—who did the regime’s bidding. They carried out acts ranging from smuggling to political assassinations. While unpaid volunteers, the Fedayeen extorted money from helpless Iraqi citizens and had access to high-end consumer goods smuggled into the country.¹⁰⁰

The Iraqi dictator did not use chemical weapons against the Coalition in Desert Storm. Yet, many U.S. troops, including myself, suffered exposure to low levels of nerve gas during the destruction of the Khamisiyah and other Iraqi ammunition dumps immediately following the war.¹⁰¹ It was widely known that Saddam used chemical weapons against his own people and the Iranians.¹⁰² As a condition of the Desert Storm cease-fire, Saddam agreed to declare within fifteen days his nuclear, chemical, and biological weapons, along with the missiles to deliver them, and to allow a United Nations Special Commission (UNSCOM) of weapons inspectors to supervise the dismantling of his WMD program.¹⁰³ Saddam never complied with those terms.

Over the next seven years, the UNSCOM inspectors destroyed forty thousand chemical weapons, more than one-hundred-thousand gallons of chemical weapons agents, forty-eight operational missiles, thirty warheads specifically fitted for chemical and biological weapons, and a massive biological weapons facility at Al Hakam equipped to produce anthrax and other deadly agents.¹⁰⁴ The dictator did not live up to his end of the cease-fire terms, denying inspectors access to facilities and constantly changing his declaration on the type and amount of WMD weapons Iraq possessed. Throughout 1998, Saddam grew more aggressive in his defiance of the UNSCOM inspectors, keeping the international community focused on Iraq, with the United States continuing to ratchet-up the pressure on the dictator. On 31 October 1998, President Clinton signed into law the Iraq Liberation Act of 1998,¹⁰⁵ building on two other Iraqi-related laws passed earlier in the year. The first stating, “The Government of Iraq is in material and unacceptable breach of its international obligations, and, therefore, the President is urged to take appropriate action, in accordance with the Constitution and relevant laws of the United States, to bring Iraq into compliance with its international obligations.”¹⁰⁶ The second provided $5 million dollars for “assistance to the Iraqi democratic opposition for such activities as organization, training, communication and dissemination of information, developing and implementing agreements among opposition groups, compiling information to support the indictment of Iraqi officials for war crimes, and for related purposes.”107

President Clinton was clear on America’s objectives:

“The United States wants Iraq to rejoin the family of nations as a freedom-loving and law-abiding member. This is in our interest and that of our allies within the region.

The United States favors an Iraq that offers its people freedom at home. I categorically reject arguments that this is unattainable due to Iraq’s history or its ethnic or sectarian makeup. Iraqis deserve and desire freedom like everyone else. The United States looks forward to a democratically supported regime that would permit us to enter into a dialogue leading to the reintegration of Iraq into normal international life.”¹⁰⁸

Saddam continued avoiding UN Weapons inspectors’ requests, leading President Clinton to reach the conclusion on 15 November 1998, that “over the long-term, the best way to address that threat is through a government in Baghdad—a new government—that is committed to represent and respect its people, not repress them; that is committed to peace in the region.”

The President laid out five conditions that needed to be met:

“First, Iraq must resolve all outstanding issues raised by UNSCOM and the IAEA. Second, it must give inspectors unfettered access to inspect and to monitor all sites they choose with no restrictions or qualifications, consistent with the memorandum of understanding Iraq itself signed with Secretary-General Annan in February. Third, it must turn over all relevant documents. Fourth, it must accept all weapons of mass destruction-related resolutions. Fifth, it must not interfere with the independence or the professional expertise of the weapons inspectors.”¹⁰⁹

Matters came to a head on 16 December 1998, when President Clinton authorized Operation Desert Fox,¹¹⁰ the bombing of one hundred targets through Iraq.¹¹¹ In his address to the nation, President Clinton eloquently made the case for the use of force, “[Saddam] has used them. Not once, but repeatedly. Unleashing chemical weapons against Iranian troops during a decade-long war. Not only against soldiers, but against civilians, firing Scud missiles at the citizens of Israel, Saudi Arabia, Bahrain and Iran. And not only against a foreign enemy, but even against his own people, gassing Kurdish civilians in Northern Iraq,”

President Clinton told the American people that the attacks were “designed to degrade Saddam’s capacity to develop and deliver weapons of mass destruction, and to degrade his ability to threaten his neighbors.”112

Despite the airstrikes, Saddam never allowed the UNSCOM weapons inspectors to re-enter Iraq. In December 1999, the Security Council passed Resolution 1284, establishing the United Nations Monitoring, Verification and Inspection Commission (UNMOVIC),¹¹³ with Dr. Hans Blix appointed the Executive Chairman.

On 8 November 2002, the Security Council unanimously passed Resolution 1441, stating:

“that Iraq has been and remains in material breach of its obligations under relevant resolutions, including resolution 687 (1991), in particular through Iraq’s failure to cooperate with United Nations inspectors and the IAEA, and to complete the actions required under paragraphs 8 to 13 of resolution 687 (1991); of UNSCOM inspection teams.”

The resolution gave Iraq a “final opportunity to comply with its disarmament obligations under relevant resolutions of the Council.”¹¹⁴

Even though Saddam was able to skirt the international community in living up to agreed upon obligations since Desert Storm ended in 1991, in the days following the attacks of 9/11, everything changed. An ill-prepared America reacted to the attacks, with U.S. and British forces attacking into Afghanistan on 7 October 2001,¹¹⁵ looking to capture Osama bin Laden and defeat his established Al Qaeda network. Not only was bin Laden responsible for the 9/11 attacks but also he was widely known as aggressively seeking access to WMDs, announcing his intentions in a 1998 Fatwa, “To seek to possess the weapons that could counter those of the infidels is a religious duty. If I have indeed acquired these weapons, then this is an obligation I carried out.”¹¹⁶

On 6 November 2001 in a joint press conference with French Prime Minister Jacques Chirac, President Bush declared, “that means different things for different nations. Some nations don’t want to contribute troops, and we understand that. Other nations can contribute intelligence sharing, and for that we’re grateful. But all nations, if they want to fight terror, must do something. It is time for action. And that’s going to be the message of my speech at the United Nations.” The President continued, “You are either with us or you are against us in the fight against terror.”117

The President continued to ratchet-up the rhetoric, and at his first State of the Union Address in January 2002, he outlined what in his administration’s mind was the “Axis of Evil:”

“North Korea is a regime arming with missiles and weapons of mass destruction while starving its citizens. Iran aggressively pursues these weapons and exports terror, while an unelected few repress the Iranian people’s hope for freedom. Iraq continues to flaunt its hostility toward America and to support terror. The Iraqi regime has plotted to develop anthrax and nerve gas and nuclear weapons for over a decade. This is a regime that has already used poison gas to murder thousands of its own citizens, leaving the bodies of mothers huddled over their dead children. This is a regime that agreed to international inspections, then kicked out the inspectors. This is a regime that has something to hide from the civilized world. States like these and their terrorist allies constitute an axis of evil, arming to threaten the peace of the world. By seeking weapons of mass destruction, these regimes pose a grave and growing danger. They could provide these arms to terrorists, giving them the means to match their hatred. They could attack our allies or attempt to blackmail the United States. In any of these cases, the price of indifference would be catastrophic.”¹¹⁸

In addition to Saddam’s long history of flaunting UN demands, U.S. and British intelligence reports suggested Iraq was increasing its arsenal of chemical weapons and was ambitiously pursuing a nuclear weapons program. Saddam, more worried about the Iranians than about the United States, and expecting nothing worse than another round of airstrikes, continued his cat-and-mouse game with the UN. American politicians were growing tired of Saddam’s games. In a run-up to the Senate’s vote on the “Authorization for Use of Military Force Against Iraq Resolution of 2002,” Senator John Kerry released a statement that read in part:

“The threat of Saddam Hussein with weapons of mass destruction is real, but it is not new. It has been with us since the end of the Persian Gulf War. It has been with us for the last four years - since Saddam Hussein kicked out U.N. weapons inspectors at the end of 1998. And frankly, after Operation Desert Fox failed to force Iraq to readmit inspectors, the United States—and the international community—erred in failing to find effective ways to compel Iraqi compliance, thus giving Saddam Hussein a free hand for four years to reconstitute his weapons of mass destruction programs and allowing the world to lose focus on the threat of proliferation.”119

On 11 October, the joint resolution easily passed a Republican-controlled House on a 296-133 vote and had even more support in the Democrat-controlled Senate, passing 77-23. The legislation listed the litany of sins committed by the Iraqi regime, including failing to live up to international obligations, the brutal repression of its civilian population, and denying access to weapons inspectors, and while emphasizing diplomacy through the UN, it authorized President to:

Use the Armed Forces of the United States as he determines to be necessary and appropriate in order to--(1) defend the national security of the United States against the continuing threat posed by Iraq; and (2) enforce all relevant United Nations Security Council resolutions regarding Iraq.¹²⁰

As President Bush stated after the vote, “The days of Iraq acting as an outlaw state are coming to an end.”¹²¹

On 21 October, Saddam emptied his jails, releasing thirty-thousand prisoners. In addition to petty criminals—many of whom became insurgents for hire—political prisoners, including jihadists, were given amnesty. At the time, U.S. officials said it was an attempt to shore up support for the regime at home.¹²²

In a 27 January 2003 report to the Security Council, Dr. Blix was generally optimistic with the progress of the inspections, but reported discrepancies in the Iraqi reporting of anthrax, VX gas and chemical rockets, and most troubling was that “Iraq appears not to have come to a genuine acceptance—not even today—of the disarmament, which was demanded of it and which it needs to carry out to win the confidence of the world and to live in peace.”¹²³

On 5 February 2003, Secretary of State Colin Powell addressed the Security Council stating that Iraqi was in “material breach” of UN resolution 1441 and presented evidence supporting that claim.¹²⁴ Years later, Secretary Powell regretted giving the speech,125 but noted at the time, he, the Congress, and the President all thought the intelligence was correct. CIA Director George Tenet even went as far as declaring the case against Saddam Hussein a slam-dunk.¹²⁶

Dr. Blix continued to report to the Security Council, delivering mostly positive assessments on 14 February and 7 March 2003, but still listing inaccuracies in Iraqi reporting and compliance.¹²⁷ The International community was still not convinced of the case for war, with France, Russia, and Germany, calling for more time for inspections. All three countries called for an easing of sanctions against Iraq throughout the 1990s and were later implicated in the food for oil scandal.¹²⁸ The debate continued until President Bush addressed the nation on 17 March 2003, stating Iraq was in material breach of UN Resolutions, and giving Saddam and his sons forty-eight hours to leave Iraq.¹²⁹ They did not comply and forty-nine hours later, Tomahawk cruise missiles rained down on Saddam’s palaces in the opening salvo of a three-week campaign to oust the dictator.¹³⁰

On 20 March 2003, the 3rd Infantry Division, the 1st Marine Expeditionary Force, the 1st (UK) Armored Division and the rest of the “Coalition of the Willing” attacked from Kuwait into Southern Iraq with a combination of shock and awe in a dash to Baghdad, launching Operation Iraqi Freedom (OIF). Both bad weather and fierce resistance from paramilitary forces slowed the attack. Looting and revenge killings by the Iraqis began immediately, as impoverished citizens looked for food, water, or anything of value after years of deprivation, slowing the relief effort.¹³¹

The thirty-thousand-strong Fedayeen Saddam and Islamic militants attacked logistics convoys with an unexpected ferocity, causing V Corps Commander Lieutenant General William Wallace to admit, ‘’The enemy we’re fighting is a bit different than the one we war-gamed against, because of these paramilitary forces. We knew they were here, but we did not know how they would fight.’’¹³² A restless nation wondered what was taking so long to invade another nation and overthrow its government; after all, it had been over a week! The delay nearly cost Wallace his command.¹³³

On 4 April, the lead elements of the 3rd Infantry Division reached the Saddam Airport after a two-week race across four hundred thirty-five miles of Iraq. The airport became the site of the fiercest fighting of the war to date, with predominately guerilla forces defending it to the death, and Saddam’s information minister calling for jihad.¹³⁴ Once secured, the 3rd ID promptly renamed it the Baghdad International Airport. The next day, tanks and Bradleys from Task Force Rogue, the 1st Battalion, 64th Armor, 3rd Infantry Division (1-64 AR), commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Eric Schwartz, conducted an internationally televised “thunder run” through Baghdad. Thirty Abrams tanks and fourteen Bradleys raced a ten-and-a-half-mile gantlet of machine gun and RPG fire through the highways of Baghdad, killing an estimated thousand Iraqi army, Fedayeen, and foreign fighters.135 In the center of Baghdad, Iraq’s information minister Mohammed Said Sahaf—”Baghdad Bob”—was conducting taunting news conferences to the international media, claiming American forces had not entered Baghdad and hundreds of American “scoundrels” were killed at the airport. The brigade commander, Colonel David Perkins realized, “This just changed from a tactical war to an information war. We need to go in and stay.”¹³⁶

Perkins ordered another “thunder run” for the morning of 7 April, this time with the Rogues in the lead, and the Tuskers of the 4th Battalion, 64th Armor, commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Phil deCamp in trail. Desert lore remains that Perkins was looking for the location of Baghdad Bob’s press conference and intend on arriving unannounced. The brigade seized some of Saddam’s palaces in the area that would become the “Green Zone,”¹³⁷ but was dangerously short of ammo and fuel, and paramilitary fighters threatened the resupply route. Fierce urban fighting along key road intersections, known as Objectives Curley, Moe, and Larry defended by Task Force China, the 3rd Battalion, 15th Infantry commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Stephen Twitty, erupted as guerrilla forces attacked the positions in cars, trucks, and buses, nearly overrunning Twitty’s positions.¹³⁸ Perkins’ brigade TOC remained at the relative safety of the Baghdad Airport, only to be destroyed by an Iraqi missile. After a day of intense fighting where the brigade nearly ran out of fuel and ammo, they still held their positions. Within two days, Coalition forces secured the Iraqi capital without having to clear Baghdad block-by-block.

On 9 April, the televised toppling of the statue of Saddam Hussein in Fidros Square marked the end of the regime. Saddam took one last walk through the streets of Baghdad and disappeared. On 1 May, President George Bush landed aboard the carrier USS Abraham Lincoln and announced the end of major combat operations in front of a now infamous “Mission Accomplished” banner.