“ONLY THE DEAD HAVE SEEN THE END OF WAR.”

– Plato –

CHAPTER 22: RIP OUT

ON FRIDAY, 14 OCTOBER 2006, TASK FORCE CONQUEROR BEGAN the formal RIP process, transferring control to the Steel Tigers. Although we were less than two weeks from leaving Iraq, we wanted to maintain offensive pressure against the AIF and build on the successful establishment of COP Dealer. We had just begun reaching out to our new neighbors around COP Steel when sixteen local men approached the front gate, waving a white flag. They wanted to speak with someone in charge of Coalition forces, so Bear Johnson and I met them in the living room of the former house, now combat outpost.

The men appeared to be a collection of shopkeepers, except for one guy who seemed a little sharper than the rest. They were concerned that the storage rooms for their shops were inside the perimeter of COP Steel, and they did not have access to their wares. They seemed genuinely glad that we had built a combat outpost but wanted to get their merchandise. We interviewed each one individually to see if they wanted to share any information with us outside of the earshot of the others, and took their fingerprints and scanned their retinas to see if any of them were wanted for attacks against the Coalition. Together, we worked out a plan for the shopkeepers to gain access to their stores. I asked if any of them were willing to be the leader of the group, but no one volunteered. We still had work to do to convince the locals that we were there for the long haul.

Later that afternoon we held the official ceremony marking the validation of the Iraqi army battalion. The ceremony was a bigger deal than I thought, especially for the Iraqis. At 1500 hours, Lieutenant Colonel Mustafa and I took our positions behind a podium on Camp Defender. Next to us, on an upholstered couch, sat the 7th IA Division commander and Colonel MacFarland. Beside them the 1st Brigade, 7th IA Commander sat on an upholstered chair, and various Americans and Iraqi minor dignitaries sat on white Rubbermaid lawn furniture neatly aligned in rows. At least fifty crisp new Iraqi flags fluttered in the breeze, mounted into the HESCO barriers separating Camp Defender from the rest of Camp Ramadi. The Iraqi soldiers were inspection ready, wearing their best mismatched uniforms, helmets and flack vests, and armed with AK 47s. Up-armored Humvees and trucks painted in their distinctive chocolate-chip camouflage pattern parked behind the formation with gunners at the ready. Mustafa and I both said a few words, trooped the line, and saluted for the playing of the Iraqi national anthem, signaling the validation of the Iraqi army battalion.

Figure 39. Iraqi soldiers pass in review during the validation ceremony on Camp Defender. 14 October 2006. Courtesy Lance Corporal D. S Clifton. Click on the photo for bonus features.

That evening, we met with Sheik Sattar, who had just returned from meeting with Prime Minister Maliki in Baghdad. In what I can only describe as the essence of the Arab political culture, and why U.S. forces will never really understand it, Prime Minister Maliki appointed Sheik Sattar to a special position to head security and reconstruction in Anbar, giving him powers greater than Mamoon, who would remain as Governor, but without any real duties. Oddly, Mamoon’s only question was, “I am still Governor, right?” and when he realized the answer was yes, he was good with the whole deal. Prime Minister Maliki also authorized the formation of three, seven-hundred and fifty man emergency response battalions; each composed of men wanting to fight Al Qaeda but unable to join the Iraqi police force for one reason or another. The national government would pay for these additional two thousand plus men in addition to the already established police force and Iraqi army forces, which now approached division-level strength around Ramadi.

Sheik Sattar also produced a document from the Sunni sheiks in Jordan authorizing him to speak on behalf of all the Sunnis in Anbar, something he was already doing. I found it strange that the major sheiks ceded power to a lower-level tribal leader, but it demonstrated how the Anbar Awakening Council was coalescing support across the Sunni community. The Sunni leadership realized their mistake in siding with the radical jihadists and Al Qaeda in the first place and now saw the Awakening led by Sattar as their only way out from Al Qaeda’s grasp. While the Abu Risha were not a major tribe of Anbar, they did have a family history of leadership in fighting the oppressor, dating back a hundred years to the fighting of the British when most Sunni tribes backed them. It also demonstrated how the charismatic Sattar was winning over the people of Anbar.

Later that night, a Team Dealer patrol arrested a father and his two boys—nine and thirteen years old—for emplacing an IED. The father was standing lookout while the boys dug a hole in the road. We tried to cut a deal with the father: if he confessed, then we would release his sons. The father continued to swear that he was not involved in the planting of the IED, and he had no control over his sons. In the end, we sent the father and the older boy to Camp Cropper, and sent the younger one home. Despite having won the backing of the tribal leaders, and the new flood of police recruits, Tam’eem remained a dangerous place.

Our mission now was transitioning the Steel Tigers into combat. Since they already had secured the static checkpoints in AO Conqueror during Operation Dealer, getting them familiar with the physical terrain was easy. Getting them to understand the complex political and social situation in an AO was much more difficult task on our part, especially when the population was undergoing a social upheaval.

Part of that mission was transitioning responsibility for the growing Iraqi security forces. Less than six months earlier, we had an Iraqi army battalion in danger of just melting away from AWOLs, an Iraqi highway patrol station barely keeping its head above water, and a single undermanned police station in 5 Kilo with no more than two hundred policemen total all across Ramadi. Now we had a fully manned—even if battle-scarred—police station in 5 Kilo, an effective Iraqi army battalion, a company of Iraqi T-72 tanks, an Iraqi military police company securing Al Anbar University, the new Tway police sub-station, and over three thousand policemen on duty or in training.

Lastly, we had to transition the relationship with Sheik Sattar and the Anbar Awakening Council. Sheik Sattar’s stature had grown far beyond a task force level SOI, since his impact reached across the Ready First’s Area of Operations. He was now Colonel MacFarland’s responsibility. A couple days before my departure, Sattar invited me to a goodbye party at his house. I saw the gathering as an opportunity to say goodbye to Sattar, whom I had grown to like over the past few months, but more importantly, it was another chance for Lieutenant Colonel Johnson, and Captain Travis Patriquin from the Ready First, to strengthen their relationship with the Awakening Council. I had come a long way since my first meeting with the Bezias where I offered my most sincere, “I look forward to working with you for a peaceful and prosperous Iraq.” Now we were actually moving towards that end, but my time was up and my successors would have to build their own working relationships with the tribal leaders of Ramadi. It had been a grueling five months since I first met the brothers Bezia, but then again it had only been five months and we were heading back to Germany. The Ready First itself was on month ten of what had initially been a twelve-month, and now was a fifteen-month tour of combat.

As I was leaving Camp Ramadi for the farewell, a suicide bomber attacked the Tway police station. Toby Watson was checking the site when the vehicle approached. He later relayed to me that the Iraqi police recognized the threat and opened fire from at least four different positions, detonating the vehicle before it could hit its intended target. He said this was the first time he began to feel confident in the Iraqi Police.342 The Tway policemen were very good about spotting suicide bombers approaching the station, having repelled numerous attacks over the past month, but in this case Al Qaeda targeted the vehicles securing the compound, not the station itself. After the attack, the Iraqi police rushed four wounded to Charlie MED in the back of their Chevy pickups. Despite the number of injured Iraqi police, I took this as a good sign: now the police were bringing in their own wounded, instead of waiting for evacuation by U.S. forces. Perhaps I had just grown accustomed to looking for the silver-lining in every tragedy, but this was another, small sign of their improving capacity.

I hung around Charlie Med to talk with the Iraqi policemen. I was finally starting to look at them as one of my units, just like any other of the companies. The uninjured policemen were furious that another suicide bomber had attacked them. Although this was the sixth suicide bombing attack against the Tway police station, it was the first one producing causalities. I could see by their body language and the tone of their voices that they were not intimidated—instead, they were determined to find the terrorists who planned it.

Figure 40. One of the final meetings with Sheik Sattar in his conference room. From left, Sheik Sattar Bezia abu Risha, translator, LTC Tony Deane, Captain Travis Patriquin. 21 October 2006. Courtesy Jeremy Brown. Click on the photo for bonus features.

It was late in the day by the time I finally made it to Sheik Sattar’s house. Most of the guests had already left so that they could get back by curfew. After a round of man-kisses and hugs, Sheik Sattar apologized for the sparse turnout. He thanked me in front the remaining guests for the work that Task Force Conqueror had done over the past five months. That was more than enough of a tribute for me, and truth be told, I was happy that I did not have to eat any goat. I presented Sheik Sattar with a shell casing from an M1A1 tank with an inscription in Arabic thanking him for his efforts, and gave him a unit coin making him part of the Conqueror family. Unfortunately, the Stetson we ordered for him had not arrived in time for me to present it to him personally. Of course, Sattar was not to be outdone. He produced a gold watch and a diamond ring and gave them to me as symbols of his appreciation. This was an unexpected problem—I didn’t want to offend him by refusing a gift, especially one given in a public setting, but Army regulations clearly prohibited me from keeping any gift valued over twenty-five dollars. Still, I thanked him effusively, wished him and the rest of the sheiks the best of luck, and prepared to leave.

Sheik Sattar stopped as I was departing and asked me privately why Coalition forces had shot the police chief of Ramadi. I had no idea what he was talking about, and told him I would look into it and get back to him. At the time, the Awakening Council was building momentum, and the last thing anyone wanted was an event like this derailing the partnership between the tribes and the Coalition. Since I had not seen a report about the shooting of a police chief, I was inclined to chalk it up to Al Qaeda propaganda trying to split the Anbar Awakening movement.

When I returned to Camp Ramadi, I found Colonel MacFarland walking down the florescent-lit hallway of the Ready First Headquarters. I asked him what to do with the watch and ring. Oddly enough, what I did with the gifts had the potential to get me relieved from command, whereas tactical incompetence did not.

“Tony, the bling has got to go back,” Colonel MacFarland said, absolutely deadpan.

“I know, I know, but I don’t want to offend Sattar. Can we keep it and put it in the battalion trophy case in Baumholder? I’ll put it on the property book,” I suggested.

“Do it privately, but get it back to him. Have a witness as well,” MacFarland instructed.

“Roger, sir. By the way, did a police chief get shot?” I asked. At the time there were three Iraqis in town all claiming to have official papers naming them the chief of police, so to me it was unclear even which one might have been shot. Unfortunately, the rumor turned out to be true. A Coalition patrol and an Iraqi police patrol bumped into each other at night in another task force’s area of operations. Prior to this, the police had rarely gone out at night, tending to stay around their stations where it was at least marginally safe. Now the police were on the hunt, which was amazing progress, but presented a new set of problems involving knowing when and where they were operating, and how to identify them so we did not mistake them for terrorists and kill them. Luckily, there were no fatalities in this incident, but a couple of the policemen were wounded before the situation came under control.

One difference between our cultures is that in America when a person feels they have wronged someone, they tend to distance themselves from the other party. When an Iraqi wrongs another person, the two will spend even more time together. I returned to Sattar’s house the next day. By now, there was always a crowd at the Bezia compound, and everyone carried a gun. The men sat around Sheik Sattar as he held court, lighting his cigarettes and agreeing with what he was saying. The crowd in general was agitated over the shooting of the police chief, but Sattar had a broader vision and understood that mistakes happen. He took me on my word that the attack on the police chief was a simple mistake. We discussed the need to know where the police were on the battlefield at all times, and agreed that incidents like this would happen again if we did not have a plan to identify the police. Sattar was not going to let an unfortunate incident derail our broader efforts.

Captain Travis Patriquin and I quietly pulled Sheik Sattar off to the side. I thanked him again for his generosity, and then returned the watch and ring. The sheik had been dealing with Americans for long enough to know that we had rules about receiving gifts, but it still amazed him that we followed those rules.

That was the last time I saw him.

I have to admit I really liked Sattar. In addition to our good working relationship, I felt we had become friends. We had spent a lot of time together, initially working on police recruiting, and continuing through the emergence of the Anbar Awakening Council. Sattar once told me that when the war was over, we would meet in Dubai to celebrate. He would loan me one of his Armani suits, and we would paint the town. We both knew that was not going to happen, but I think he was sincere in his offer. He had a public persona of bravado and swagger, but in private, he was a good man who wanted the best for his people and the people of Iraq. Certainly, we had both tried to gain the upper hand in our daily dealing, but we also both understood that was business. On the personal level, we got along well.

The coordination between the tribes and the Coalition was now the responsibility of Captain Travis Patriquin, Lieutenant Colonel Jim Lechner, and the Ready First. Colonel MacFarland designated Patriquin as his personal representative to Sheik Sattar and the Awakening movement. Travis spoke Arabic and smoked cigarettes, two qualities that endeared him to Sheik Sattar and to the rest of the Sunnis, and was already spending a majority of his days at the Bezia compound.

RIP proceeded uneventfully. There was one major Al Qaeda propaganda demonstration on 18 October, during which a host of terrorists in black masks gathered in central Ramadi, hopped in cars, brandishing their weapons out of the windows for all to see, and raced around a circuit of city streets almost like high school kids celebrating a big win in the homecoming game. Naturally, they videotaped the procession for release to the media, as further evidence that terrorists still controlled the city. They were members of the Mujahedeen Shura Council proclaiming Ramadi was joining an Islamic state.343 By our calculations, the event lasted less than five minutes because the terrorists knew that was all the time they had before the Coalition figured out what they were doing and blasted them off the face of the earth with an airstrike. Nevertheless, what we in Ramadi interpreted as an act of desperation by Al Qaeda still made world headlines as proof of our failures in Iraq, with the Daily Kos even going so far as to ask, “Are we witnessing a rout in Iraq?³⁴⁴

That night, terrorists attacked a dismounted patrol with small arms fire in Ramadi, killing Specialist Jose Perez from Charlie Company, 1-6 IN.³⁴⁵ The next morning, 1/6 Marine established COP Firecracker at a key intersection in central Ramadi, further loosening the AIF’s grip on the population. Two days later, a devastating IED killed Lance Corporal Nathan Elrod,³⁴⁶ Lance Corporal Clifford R. Collinsworth,³⁴⁷ and Lance Corporal Nicholas Manoukian³⁴⁸ from Weapons Company, 1/6 Marines.³⁴⁹

Task Force Steel Tiger assumed control of AO Conqueror without any casualties. Stillings and his Marine advisor team ripped out, with Lieutenant Colonel Rod Arrington and a new crew of advisors picking up where Kris and his men left off. We held a ceremony to award the battle streamer for the battalion’s last deployment and to case the task force colors, signifying the end of this deployment. I wondered how many other Conqueror 6’s would have to do the same thing in the future. We handed out medals and certificates to Marines, Sailors and SEALs that we worked with, and we then proceeded to get the hell out of Ramadi. I flew out on the last lift on 26 October. About a hundred of us went out that night, mostly staff officers, first sergeants, supply sergeants and support troops. As we sat on the edge of the helipad awaiting the start of our journey back to Germany, the soldiers were both physically and mentally exhausted, flopping on their rucksacks while awaiting the helicopters. I walked around and thanked the soldiers for all they had accomplished all the time terrified that a final mortar attack would hit the helipad and we would forever be the sad story of the unit killed off on its way home.

Figure 41. Task Force Conqueror leadership at the end of the deployment. From Left: CPT Mike Schoenfeldt, CPT Matt Graham, LTC Tony Deane, CPT Matt Alden, CPT Scott Snyder, Second row form left: 1SG Kerry Dyer, 1SG David Shaw, CSM Ramon Delgado, 1SG Robin Bolmer, and 1SG Jerry Baily. Click on the photo for bonus features.

In the hour that we waited for the aircraft to arrive, I could hear the battle raging throughout the Ready First sector. A maverick missile launched off the rails of an F-16, landing near the soccer stadium in response to a Currahee Troops in Contact. The Marine River Unit’s 40 mm grenade launchers roared suppressive fire as Task Force Regular conducted an operation along the Euphrates River in the tribal area to the north. Explosions and small arms fire rang out across Ramadi and in Tam’eem. There was still a lot of fighting remaining for the Ready First. In all, October 2006 would be the deadliest month for U.S. troops serving in Iraq since the Second Battle of Fallujah nearly two years earlier, with one hundred seven Americans losing their lives.350

We boarded CH-46s for the short flight to TQ, then on to Kuwait. We spent the next couple of days preparing our equipment for shipment back to Germany. As a task force, we only had four Bradleys to ship back; IEDs and RPGs had destroyed the other ten. The tanks fared a bit better, with 13 of 16 making it back to Germany, although I received orders to leave the fourteen M1A1 tanks assigned to Task Force Regular for a unit that was ordered not to bring their tanks because peace was breaking out at the time of their deployment. Our route back was the reverse of the one we took to get to Ramadi, but the trip felt completely different. After four days in Kuwait, we boarded chartered commercial aircraft to Germany, and then took a bus ride to Baumholder, where our families awaited.

Figure 42. The Marines of the Civil Affairs Group did an outstanding job, so I gave them all Army Achievement Medals. Honestly, I am a little shaky if they are authorized to wear them, or if I could give them one in a combat zone. Kneeling from the right is Captain Sean Frerking and Captain Pat Fagan. Click on the photo for bonus features.

As we approached the front gate, we saw that hundreds of handmade “Welcome Home” signs adorned with yellow ribbons hung from the chain link fence encircling the post. Family members welcoming returning soldiers had made most of these banners, with Sergeant First Class Cebak and the rear detachment handcrafted the big ones. Stepping off the buses, we turned in our weapons and sensitive items and then mounted other buses for the half-mile ride to the “Hall of Heroes” gymnasium.

Outside, we formed into four columns and marched onto the basketball court to the sound of Bette Midler music and cheering family members. I had made this march before, across the parade field of Fort Stewart, Georgia, in 1991, but the thrill of coming home never diminishes. I saluted the rear detachment commander, turned and announced “Dismissed.” By the second ‘S’, wives, children, parents, husbands, girlfriends and boyfriends were pouring onto the court, sharing the unmatched moment of intense joy as families reunite with their soldiers. Debora and the girls ran out and hugged me, and, for a few moments, everyone forgot the pain and loss we had suffered during the previous six months.

I was just happy to be home.

Figure 43. Immediately after dismissing the formation during the Welcome Home Ceremony, Debora, Allison, and Ashley (obscured) hug. Click on the photo for bonus features.

Figure 44. Ashley, myself, Debora, and Allison at my promotion to Colonel. 1 September 2007. Click on the photo for bonus features.

Figure 45. Then-BG MacFarland officiated my Retirement Ceremony. Click on the photo for bonus features.