A few good men
By Linda Robinson
Running quietly down a pitch-dark dirt road outside Baghdad, Iraqi and U.S. commandos flowed from one house to the next, the red laser aiming devices of their rifles skittering over bushes, walls, and doorways. At each junction, they softly called out a code word to avoid shooting one another. Finding the man they sought, they went on to quiz his neighbors, a task made easier with Iraqis on the team. "It is much more effective when you have an Iraqi saying, 'Get on the floor. Do you know this person?' They are much better at picking up on the cultural nuances, on who is lying, and so forth," notes the U.S. special operations forces commander.
Indeed, U.S. special forces are producing a twofer these days in Iraq. Not only are Iraqis working alongside them on sensitive operations; they are training the Iraqis to become special forces. The day before the raid, for instance, a suicide bomber had blown himself up at the back gate of their base, killing one and wounding three of their Iraqi guards. By 2 p.m. the next day the commandos had a lead on an Iraqi with knowledge of the plot. The Americans provided the imagery, but it was a 27-year-old Iraqi captain who drew up the assault plan and briefed his cohorts, using a terrain model his team built.
That night, after eating a plain meal of chicken and rice, the U.S. special forces team and the Iraqis piled into two assault humvees to conduct the raid. The U.S. task force commander judged it a "textbook" performance. U.S. News was given exclusive access to this counterterrorist unit, modeled on the Delta Force, and another elite unit, the 36th Commando Battalion, which make up the Iraqi Special Operations Forces Brigade, as well as to the Americans grooming them since last year. The United States hopes to replicate their success with other Iraqi military units.
"As we speak, this is the strongest force we have in Iraq," says the three-star Iraqi general who heads the ISOF, adding that it has carried out 300 missions in its first year of operations. The ISOF has fought in every major battle, including Najaf, Samarra, Fallujah, and Ramadi. They have been used to raid sensitive sites like mosques, as in Najaf where they captured 40 insurgents in a shrine along with tons of munitions. And they have helped hunt for high-value targets like the killers of American contractors. In an unpublicized action in mid-January, Operation Trojan Roundup, both units of the ISOF carried out a massive raid in Baghdad in search of those who attacked a Kellogg Brown & Root convoy and captured American soldier Keith Maupin last year. Armed with a "yearbook" of names and pictures, they raided 71 buildings and detained 25 Iraqis who matched the profiles.
Such prowess cannot be developed overnight, however. The Americans have worked daily with these handpicked Iraqis, living, eating, and fighting alongside them. The Iraqi counterterrorist unit has been outfitted with the same equipment that the special forces have, including night-vision goggles, M-4 and sniper rifles, and a state-of-the-art shooting house is being built for them. And their trainers--special forces soldiers--have done multiple tours in Afghanistan and Africa. The master sergeant is a decade older than the Iraqi captain he mentors, yet he coaches him with a subtle hand.
The Americans start out leading, then guiding, then backing up the Iraqis. At the commando training school, where a third class of aspirants is now grunting through the grueling obstacle course and classwork, they get tips in jumping high walls, conquering fear of heights and tunnels, and how to crawl along a rope, with one leg dangling for balance.
The training is dramatically different from the old Iraqi model in one key way. Even though about half of the counterterrorist unit members served in Iraq's military, they were not prepared for the commando structure, where each man must think for himself. An Iraqi captain, who fought the marines outside Kut, says, "We have learned to work as brothers and not call each other by ranks."
Raining mortars. At the urban base where the 36th Commando Battalion lives, Americans and Iraqis weather the weekly rain of mortars together. The 36th is the oldest component of the ISOF. Like the counterterrorist unit, its members are roughly the same ethnic and religious makeup of the population, and its company commanders are both Kurd and Arab.
On the Eid al Adha holiday, the 36th was hard at work. The special forces set up moving shooting drills and mock assaults in bombed-out buildings and their own barracks. In these close-quarter battle drills, the trainers form part of the "stack," shoulder to shoulder, just as they are in battle. As they broke for lunch, an easy camaraderie ensued, one born of experience; these Americans fought beside Iraqi militias in the north and spent years amid the ethnic stew of the Balkans. When it was time for tea with the Kurdish commander, they took bets on how many gifts he will hand out.
Still, life in the 36th is no picnic. Although it is part of the elite brigade, the 36th still lacks critical gear, such as radios, sights for the AK-47s, and enough night-vision goggles. Their trucks have no armor--eight soldiers were killed by a roadside bomb in December as they headed for a training exercise--and death threats, known as "night letters," plague their unit. Indeed, the plan is to move all the ISOF, with their families, into a base now under construction. Still, by July, the U.S. special operations commander hopes to see the brigade on a par with his own men, in both equipment and skill. A tall order perhaps, but a special forces captain who has worked with the ISOF for nine months marvels at the progress the Iraqi charges have made. "This war is important, and it is winnable," he says. "If I get killed, I don't want anyone telling my family that it was in vain."
By Linda Robinson
Running quietly down a pitch-dark dirt road outside Baghdad, Iraqi and U.S. commandos flowed from one house to the next, the red laser aiming devices of their rifles skittering over bushes, walls, and doorways. At each junction, they softly called out a code word to avoid shooting one another. Finding the man they sought, they went on to quiz his neighbors, a task made easier with Iraqis on the team. "It is much more effective when you have an Iraqi saying, 'Get on the floor. Do you know this person?' They are much better at picking up on the cultural nuances, on who is lying, and so forth," notes the U.S. special operations forces commander.
Indeed, U.S. special forces are producing a twofer these days in Iraq. Not only are Iraqis working alongside them on sensitive operations; they are training the Iraqis to become special forces. The day before the raid, for instance, a suicide bomber had blown himself up at the back gate of their base, killing one and wounding three of their Iraqi guards. By 2 p.m. the next day the commandos had a lead on an Iraqi with knowledge of the plot. The Americans provided the imagery, but it was a 27-year-old Iraqi captain who drew up the assault plan and briefed his cohorts, using a terrain model his team built.
That night, after eating a plain meal of chicken and rice, the U.S. special forces team and the Iraqis piled into two assault humvees to conduct the raid. The U.S. task force commander judged it a "textbook" performance. U.S. News was given exclusive access to this counterterrorist unit, modeled on the Delta Force, and another elite unit, the 36th Commando Battalion, which make up the Iraqi Special Operations Forces Brigade, as well as to the Americans grooming them since last year. The United States hopes to replicate their success with other Iraqi military units.
"As we speak, this is the strongest force we have in Iraq," says the three-star Iraqi general who heads the ISOF, adding that it has carried out 300 missions in its first year of operations. The ISOF has fought in every major battle, including Najaf, Samarra, Fallujah, and Ramadi. They have been used to raid sensitive sites like mosques, as in Najaf where they captured 40 insurgents in a shrine along with tons of munitions. And they have helped hunt for high-value targets like the killers of American contractors. In an unpublicized action in mid-January, Operation Trojan Roundup, both units of the ISOF carried out a massive raid in Baghdad in search of those who attacked a Kellogg Brown & Root convoy and captured American soldier Keith Maupin last year. Armed with a "yearbook" of names and pictures, they raided 71 buildings and detained 25 Iraqis who matched the profiles.
Such prowess cannot be developed overnight, however. The Americans have worked daily with these handpicked Iraqis, living, eating, and fighting alongside them. The Iraqi counterterrorist unit has been outfitted with the same equipment that the special forces have, including night-vision goggles, M-4 and sniper rifles, and a state-of-the-art shooting house is being built for them. And their trainers--special forces soldiers--have done multiple tours in Afghanistan and Africa. The master sergeant is a decade older than the Iraqi captain he mentors, yet he coaches him with a subtle hand.
The Americans start out leading, then guiding, then backing up the Iraqis. At the commando training school, where a third class of aspirants is now grunting through the grueling obstacle course and classwork, they get tips in jumping high walls, conquering fear of heights and tunnels, and how to crawl along a rope, with one leg dangling for balance.
The training is dramatically different from the old Iraqi model in one key way. Even though about half of the counterterrorist unit members served in Iraq's military, they were not prepared for the commando structure, where each man must think for himself. An Iraqi captain, who fought the marines outside Kut, says, "We have learned to work as brothers and not call each other by ranks."
Raining mortars. At the urban base where the 36th Commando Battalion lives, Americans and Iraqis weather the weekly rain of mortars together. The 36th is the oldest component of the ISOF. Like the counterterrorist unit, its members are roughly the same ethnic and religious makeup of the population, and its company commanders are both Kurd and Arab.
On the Eid al Adha holiday, the 36th was hard at work. The special forces set up moving shooting drills and mock assaults in bombed-out buildings and their own barracks. In these close-quarter battle drills, the trainers form part of the "stack," shoulder to shoulder, just as they are in battle. As they broke for lunch, an easy camaraderie ensued, one born of experience; these Americans fought beside Iraqi militias in the north and spent years amid the ethnic stew of the Balkans. When it was time for tea with the Kurdish commander, they took bets on how many gifts he will hand out.
Still, life in the 36th is no picnic. Although it is part of the elite brigade, the 36th still lacks critical gear, such as radios, sights for the AK-47s, and enough night-vision goggles. Their trucks have no armor--eight soldiers were killed by a roadside bomb in December as they headed for a training exercise--and death threats, known as "night letters," plague their unit. Indeed, the plan is to move all the ISOF, with their families, into a base now under construction. Still, by July, the U.S. special operations commander hopes to see the brigade on a par with his own men, in both equipment and skill. A tall order perhaps, but a special forces captain who has worked with the ISOF for nine months marvels at the progress the Iraqi charges have made. "This war is important, and it is winnable," he says. "If I get killed, I don't want anyone telling my family that it was in vain."
