2 March
BEFORE SUNRISE
The second of March dawned with better visibility and weather for the AFO teams as temperatures approached a much-welcomed 32 degrees Fahrenheit. Jay Hill and the Delta snipers were settled into their OP and had established a battle rhythm for reporting on the enemy. There was plenty to report. In addition to civilians fleeing the valley, positions were being fortified across the Whale, and forces could be seen mustering and repositioning. It was going to be a good day for killing.
The mission was Delta-led, with Kris delivering the reports to Blaber while Bill and Dave did most of the scope-spotting. The mission’s statement and core, however, were all CCT. In preparation for orchestrating bomb strikes and gun runs (helicopters and fighters), Jay had two MBITRs and his PRC-117, which, when combined with his FalconView expertise, gave the team an unprecedented suite of lethality with which to decimate the enemy forces.
“I had my radios all set up, superior comms through the entire valley. Kris would make the calls to [Blaber] and I’d worry about range-finding, running down all the different targets, and nominating them.” The day was well spent, “reporting back potential targets to Pete [Blaber], who would relay to Bagram who would…well, Trebon and those folks I’m sure were listening too, on SAT alpha [the designated AFO satellite frequency]. Everything was set up so we could talk to everybody. And we were in a good position where we had the entire valley covered.” All he needed now were planes and bombs.
Below him, in the center of the valley, the enemy’s preparations, advance warning, and superior numbers did provide them certain advantages, but could they use them effectively? Intercepted requests revealed their concerns as well as their strategy: “The traitors and their American allies are going to attack soon, we need to bring reinforcements to the village.”
Maulawi Saif-ur-Rahman Nasrullah Mansoor was the commander responsible for fielding such requests and for shaping the overall strategy. With hundreds of mujahideen under his command, his assessment did not agree with his subordinate’s request. Based on his experience as a subcommander under Haqqani in the Soviet campaign, during which they were victorious, he replied, “There is no need. We were in Shahi Khot during the first Afghan jihad [against the Soviets]. There were six mujahideen in total and we were surrounded by ten tanks. Over five air attacks were staged on us in a single day, and there were about one hundred Soviet soldiers who attacked us from the land. But all praise belongs to Allah alone—they were not able to set foot on a single hand-span of the village, and we remained in this same state for about one week.” Convinced the high ground, coupled with mortars and antiaircraft systems throughout the valley (along with Allah’s blessing) and the hundreds of fighters who’d fled from the north, was adequate to defeat the “soft” Americans, they waited, reciting their daily prayers.
* * *
The stage was set for the morning’s US-led invasion of the Shahi Khot. Three postage-stamp-size elements of America’s finest troops, thirteen men in all, waited to battle a thousand to fifteen hundred hardened and experienced fighters of the jihad who were arrayed across two hundred square miles of fortified fighting positions. They were armed with heavy machine guns, antiaircraft weapons, mortars, and artillery and occupied the vast majority of the high ground surrounding the Shahi Khot Valley. Yet for all AFO’s capability and experience, Blaber’s troops were merely peripheral to Operation Anaconda’s main thrust.
The plan to eliminate the enemy was simple. The US Army intended to drop a few hundred infantry troops from the 10th Mountain and 101st Airborne onto the valley floor. They would then establish blocking positions against the mountains to serve as an anvil against which the (theoretically) terrified Al Qaeda fighters fleeing ATF forces (augmented by Chris Haas’s Green Berets) would be crushed. But Army planners did not have accurate enemy numbers, nor did they understand the enemy’s intention. They also fundamentally misunderstood their foe, as evidenced by Mansoor’s directives. The Al Qaeda field commander correctly assessed where the Americans would land and began moving troops into position accordingly.
As the hours ticked down for the operation to commence, Juliet Team continued to “report enemy activity and waited for H-hour. The plan was, prior to H-hour, we would have control of fires [airstrikes] and, after H-hour, the 101st would have control.” Jay was steadily building his target list, double-checking distances and locations with his Delta teammates and occasionally exchanging information with Andy. He could feel the tension rising from the valley. Al Qaeda and the Taliban could be seen on the Whale to his southwest and in the villages in the valley. Strangely (or not, as it would turn out), the latter had very few locals and none of the activity one would expect of daily Afghan life. Everywhere they looked were, exclusively, adult males moving with purpose. Other prominent sites, including the peak of Takur Ghar to the south, also revealed enemy activity. In the valley, J Team reported that the Army’s HLZs remained clear of obstacles and enemy fortifications. This wasn’t surprising, since the HLZs, centered in the valley and on level ground in front of the mountain peaks, afforded no tactical advantage, save as level landing sites for the giant and slow CH-47s. It was on the Whale that most enemy activity could be seen, and Jay took particular note of the mortar pits.
For J Team, their initial role during the operation’s kickoff was simple. According to Kris, “[Jay’s B-1] that was striking the cave next to us was supposed to check in with us prior to dropping. The 101st would land and establish blocking positions while the ATF came into [Shahi Khot] and did the dirty work. There was supposed to be a good fire support plan for mass bombing of the Tergul Ghar [the Whale] and Takur Ghar mountains. At H-3:00 we were cleared to engage targets.” As day turned to night, and the night turned cold, the team took their last opportunity to attempt sleep while waiting for killing time to begin.
On their OP, Jay had arrayed his CAS equipment ergonomically around him: radios, scope, laser rangefinder, IZLID IR pointer. He tried to get some sleep, “maybe an hour and a half, because you were…You didn’t want to go to sleep. One, it was cold as hell. Two, it was the excitement pouring through your veins. ‘I get to do some Combat Control shit here.’” Still, with an unknown number of straight combat days before him, “we were trying.” Thinking, “If there’s a time to sleep, you better do it now because you’ve got to conserve yourself for the next couple days. This thing is going to be a long time. But we had to take shifts with sleeping and it never really worked out.” The men sat, as silent as the night was dark. Watching. Waiting. Knowing.
* * *
As Jay froze in the pre-morning light, stuffed inside his puffy jacket, Andy and Mako-31 were already executing their pre-operation strike. Shortly after midnight, they had quietly jammed all their items into rucksacks (ensuring nothing would “rattle or clang” and betray them), picked up, and moved in the direction of the DShK while Chris traveled ahead of the others to find a site to stash their packs. When the rest arrived and dropped their rucks, Goody, Chris, and Eric began their slow approach toward the enemy’s position.
Andy stayed with the equipment, not for security but to ensure he didn’t give away their position when he began his airstrike coordination. He opened the top of his ruck to access the screen of his PRC-117 radio, turned it on, and configured it for operations. He then pulled the DMC-120 SATCOM antenna from inside and quickly assembled it, directing it at the appropriate satellite. He did a quick comm check on the net. Satisfied he was on the “bird,” he pulled out the tools of Combat Control’s trade (nearly identical to Jay’s, nine kilometers to the north). Andy went through his mental checklist, comparing it with his plan to remove the DShK after the SEALs killed the Al Qaeda team leader they had seen outside the tent earlier. He finalized his preparations and sat back. Around him, the mountains were eerily silent. The SEALs made no sound as they closed in for the kill. He checked his watch; a little more than an hour to go. A sound reached his ears, the low, steady drone of a lone turboprop plane overhead. He looked through his NVGs at the reassuring shadow, invisible to the naked eye, that was making slow “two-minute turns” (orbits) in the distance. Andy smiled to himself. The first of the aerial predators had arrived: Grim-31, an H-model AC-130 “Spectre” gunship. It was Andy’s favorite execution tool for conditions such as this. He shivered in the cold and thought, It’s going to be a good day.
Chris led the other SEALs as they crept toward the enemy camp. Clouds came and went, alternately illuminating and then masking the terrain. They slid their way to a ridgeline and he realized they were only sixty feet from the darkened tent. Chris was in front, the other two behind him to minimize their profile against the sky. The snipers double-checked their rifles, two Stoner SR-25s and an M4, and marked the time: It was now two hours before TF-Rakkasan forces were to land in the valley, H-2:00.
Chris recalls what happened next: “I observed a man come over the top of the ridge and look down into the valley; he came from the direction of the tent that we could not observe at the time. I then realized how close we were to the site. The individual returned to the tent, and we continued to wait. The clouds cleared, and we could now hear the gunships overhead [there were two in the valley]. I observed the same sentry come out to the same spot; he was looking out to the west again. I slowly crouched down and tried to get the attention of [Goody and Eric]. Before I could, the sentry looked our way just as Eric stood up. Due to the illumination, he easily spotted the movement and turned and ran toward the tent.”
The SEALs had compromised themselves. Left with no choice, Goody ordered the attack. The sentry was shouting at his comrades to wake as the three SEALs charged over the ridge. Chris stopped and fired one shot before his rifle jammed. Goody took a knee and had fired his first round into the tent when his rifle also jammed. Both men were shooting the SR-25s, each with a suppressor (providing muzzle-flash masking as well as sound reduction), and both had iced up.
The two men frantically worked to clear their weapons. The sentry, by then inside the tent, unloaded a full magazine from his AK-47 at them. The SEALs could see the blinding muzzle flash from between the folds of the tent flaps. They’d stirred up a veritable hornet’s nest as men poured out of the tent with weapons in hand. One, a Chechen, charged Chris, who had finally cleared his jam. Chris pumped several rounds into the chest of his assailant, dropping him in the snow mere feet away. A second broke right, lunging toward the DShK, but was blasted by Chris and Goody simultaneously.
Their problems were just beginning. From the team’s left, a fighter was flanking them. Eric dispatched the AQ soldier as Goody got on the radio to Andy, who was already moving toward the gunfire. The difference between the American and Al Qaeda weapons is very easily distinguished, and it sounded to the Controller like his men were on the losing side, based on the volume of hostile fire. As if in confirmation, a sustained burst of 7.62 passed just over his head, the telltale tracer rounds carving a slow-motion arc in front of the silent, starry backdrop.
Grim-31, fully briefed by Andy, was moving overhead at 20,000 feet above mean sea level (less than 10,000 feet above the team’s mountainous ridge), its 40mm Bofors cannon and 105mm howitzer ready and trained on the DShK and tent. The pilot reported to Andy they had “two enemy bodies just outside the tent and another wounded and crawling away.”
Andy and the SEALs met halfway. As he was telling Chris they needed to pull back so he could destroy the DShK position, Grim-31 announced through Andy’s headset that there were “two other figures moving north of Mako Three One trying to get on their left flank.” The flankers were only seventy-five meters away and appeared to be emplacing a machine gun. When a sustained burst of 7.62 PKM fire raked the ridge near the team’s position, it obviated the need for further confirmation.
They were in serious trouble. An H-model gunship’s “danger close” for its 40mm Bofors was 125 meters; for the 105mm it was 600 meters. The team was well under 100 meters from the DShK, and more fighters were appearing from the night, attempting to engage Mako-31. Relief was up to Andy, who had Grim-31 poised with an “at my command” weapons release.
The team continued its retreat as Grim-31 waited to hear the words that would authorize the unleashing of the first 33-pound, 1,550-foot-per-second, high-explosive shell. While the men tumbled across the rough terrain, pursued by tracer fire, Andy uttered them. “Cleared hot,” he stated in a steady but winded voice.
The weapons of an AC-130 can only be fired by the pilot, who always sits in the left seat, the same side as its deadly cannons and sensors. As soon as the pilot, Major D. J. Turner, heard the clearance, he checked his sensor operators in the rear to ensure his “friendlies” were clear, and then pulled the trigger. It took the 105 round a little less than seven seconds to travel the distance, sticking its landing with a thud and whump felt by Andy and the team.
Back inside the AC-130, the 105 gunners ejected the spent brass casing as soon as the recoil had finished and had the next 33-pound round in the breech in less than five seconds.
As soon as they called, “Gun ready!” Turner hit it again. This was the type of mission gunship crews lived for: killing bad guys when their brothers-in-arms were in dire straits, knowing full well no other fixed-wing aircraft was as decisive an edge.13
The pilots and sensor operators watched with satisfaction as the rounds killed the two machine gunners instantly. Having been precleared by Andy for the rest of the target, they trained their weapons on the tent, shredding it with multiple 105 rounds and strewing the contents across the rock face.
As the members of Mako-31 collected at their rucks, Grim-31 fired on yet another flanker, killing him outright. They waited till the gunship finished its work, then moved carefully back to the DShK position to conduct a battle damage assessment, certain in their movement thanks to the watchful eyes overhead.
At the DShK and tent, they found five bodies cooling in the early morning air. Inside the tent was a treasure-trove of Cyrillic documents confirming the fighters’ Chechen ethnicity, as well as a few Arabic papers. The most significant find came from inspecting the DShK. It was clean and serviceable, freshly oiled, with two thousand rounds stacked conveniently around it. Goody reported, “The AQ had built a makeshift traverse and elevation mechanism allowing it to hit targets out to 3000 meters and to easily cover the flight routes of the US helicopters which would arrive shortly.” The position also had an RPG launcher with seven rounds, a Russian Dragunov 7.62mm sniper rifle, multiple AK-47s, and the PKM machine gun that the Chechens had used in their attempt to flank the team.
Mako-31 occupied their adversary’s former position, making it their new OP, and planned to remain for the duration of the operation. When TF-Rakkasan flew into the valley fifty minutes later, the SEAL team leader tracked their approach through the DShK’s gunsights.