Flaming Basketballs (A Veteran’s Day Story)

With Veteran’s day approaching I wanted to share the best Veteran’s Day story I have. Hopefully it serves a reminder to reach out to a Veteran that you know and thank them for the sacrifices they have made! 

Around the 2007-2008 time frame, I don’t remember the exact deployment, it all starts to blend together after a while. On this night we had decided to take a nice walk through the desert, after the helicopters dropped us off. I always enjoyed these nights, walking through the desert, with my best friends armed to the teeth. Time to reflect and chat over the radio about the upcoming assault. Those who have hours under night vision understand the bliss that comes from nights like this and how they can be reprieve from high intensity conflict and life on a Forward Operating Base. 

After we crossed a main road, we could make out the shadows of a large hill at 10 o’clock. We had heard that there might be an Coalition checkpoint in the area so decided to give the hill some space and picked up a route that would give us about 500 meters of stand-off. Our overhead assets were limited that night, so they had eyes on the target building and reported all quiet so far. 

As we skirted the hill, we noticed a little movement from the top. Then the crack of a round being fired over our heads. Clearly a warning shot and we wanted to get out of the area as soon as possible, so the command to speed up was sent to the lead squad. Then came machine gun fire, it wasn’t a lot, just a couple bursts from the top of the hill. Regardless, the entire platoon hit the dirt and assumed positions to react to contact. The landscape in front of us was completely barren, there was no cover. It was as flat as glass for hundreds of meters in all directions. 

Apparently, the machine gunner was lonely so some of his buddies decided to join in on the fun and now we had an orchestra of machine guns. Luckily for us, they mostly seemed to be firing high and the rounds impacted behind our positions. Instinctively, the lead squad got on-line and started to return fire. While we knew that the element on top of the hill was the Coalition army or police, meaning friendly fire, it didn’t matter. Friendly fire isn’t that friendly in my experience. 

As they returned fire, the other squads worked to get on-line with the 2nd Squad. Our machine gun teams started to return fire as they got on-line with the rest of the element. So we now had machine guns and small arms exchanged across the desolate landscape. I was positioned to the far left flank of the platoon and had an amazing view of the platoon unleashing holy hell on the hill. Then, a large orange streak of light came from the hill. Most of the platoon slowed or stopped firing as we all looked at it. For a moment I remember thinking it was a flare and we should stop firing as they had realized it was American forces. Then the flare dropped and exploded behind the platoon. It was an Rocket Propelled Grenade (RPG) and the angle it had fired from made the booster visible, hence the orange streak. Awesome! After that initial round, the RPGs started coming in like they were being fired from a machine gun. Some landing in front, behind and more than I would like to see landed amongst the platoons. I recall looking at my medic and telling him to get ready. We would be taking a lot of casualties tonight. 

As we waited for the first casualty I grabbed the Gustav Team (Think bazooka but cooler), also called  a Carl Gustav. An 84milimeter recoilless rifle that we carried along with a mix of different rounds. Telling them to pick out the bunkers and destroy them. The first round they fired went right over the top of the bunker. 

“Another round,” I yelled, and moved to link up the Commander and his Fires Advisor (Brandon) . 

“Sir, we’ve got to get them to realize that we are friendly” I yelled over the sound of the firefight. 

The Fires Advisor came up with the idea to have the Fighter Jets do a low-level flight over our positions. Hopefully this would signal to the them that this was an American unit. Something needed to happen as the squads were starting to call up round counts and how they had shot about 50% of their loads. The thought of breaking contact crossed my mind, but right now most of the rounds and RPGs were landing behind the platoon. So if we broke contact we would be doing so right into the fire. 

When the Fighter Jet came in for an approach, we all took a deep breath, hoping this would get the fire to stop. The low flight was a terrible idea because as it flew overhead, it caused their systems to launch deterrence flares. This illuminated our positions, and now the enemy fire became more accurate, landing amongst the platoon. I could see squads displacing left and right as rounds impacted. We were about to call for a break in contact, when we saw small arms coming from our rear. What we hadn’t noticed was a coalition convoy had moved along the main road. I could see about a half dozen Humvees lined up on the road and they had finally got their 50 cals and 240s into operation. So we now had heavy machine guns coming from the rear, machine gun and RPG fire coming from the hilltop. The only protection was a ditch about 2 inches deep. 

Great, this is about as bad as it can get. By now we had tossed around any idea that came to mind to get this to stop and for everyone to realize we are American Forces. That’s when we heard what sounded like a freight train coming towards us. Again, most of us stopped firing and talking, looking around trying to figure out what the hell that sound was. As it passed overhead it shook the ground, my teeth, and if I’m being honest a hell of a lot of my conviction to be in this place now. When it impacted, it shook the ground a second time and all of us were left wondering what kind of madness that was. The flight path was way too low to be artillery and didn’t make the same whooshing noise. 

“Well fuck sir, I guess they have tanks” Brandon sarcastically stated.  

Tanks, tanks?? What the hell? I ran back to the Gustav Team and looking in the distance I could make out the silhouettes of about 3 tanks. It appeared they were getting on-line and about to flank us. The good news was that the coalition convoy seemed to think tanks were no good and bugged out. So now we just had tanks and the fire from the hilltop to contend with. We gave the call for the platoon to start breaking contact, at this point we were starting to run critical low on ammo. 

The Gustav team had apparently gotten too excited and fired all their rounds. The only thing they had left was a smoke round. “Fire that in front of the platoon to mask movement. As soon as you do, haul ass to the rear of the platoon,” I yelled over the top of another Tank round screaming overhead. Man, it made my teeth hurt. 

After they fired the smoke round, I hauled ass back to the Commander and we took off across the desert. Which, was perfect timing as the tanks opened with their COAXs on our previous location. When I got back to the Commander I asked if we had come up with any bright ideas? I remember an Radio Telephone operator (RTO) having a wise comment about making sticky bombs out of our socks; a tribute to the movie Saving Private Ryan. Funny in hindsight, but at the time I believe I told him nicely to shut up. 

None of us remember to this day who said it or how we got there, but the idea was thrown out to have the apache helicopters land in front of the tanks. Maybe it was the pilots who suggested it. And so, that’s what happened. This Apache landed in front of the tanks with all its lights on. One of the pilots hopped out and talked to the crew on the tank. Like a light switch being flicked, all the fire stopped. I think we all just laid there for a minute, trying to wrap our minds around what the hell happened. 

The good old 1SG came over the net breaking the silence. 

“Burke, let's move to the HLZ” he commanded. 

We walked about a kilometer to the Helicopter Landing Zone (HLZ) and got on the helicopters. On the flight back I was beside myself with anger and relief. We hadn’t taken one casualty. How that was possible was beyond comprehension. I hadn’t seen that much fire since the invasion of Iraq. Everyone was thinking the same thing as no one really chatted over the net. 

When we got back, we found out the element on top of the hill was a Coalition brigade with a newly acquired Tank Battalion in support. They had no night vision and the American team that was supposed to be supporting them and running deconfliction was out on a chow run during the night of the attack. Perfect timing. 

It wasn’t until later that one of the squad leaders pointed out that the Graphic number (for each mission we had assigned graphics and schematics) was 666, and it was also Veteran’s day. 

There is no big lesson learned from this story. Our Higher HQs hadn’t made the proper coordination to deconflict our presence in the AO.  

But, there is one thing the platoon knows for sure; that Apache pilot has bigger balls than any of us and everyone talks a lot of shit until the tanks show up. 

Thank you to all those that have answered the call of our Nation. Your service is not forgotten and we will continue to honor it. I encourage everyone to call a Veteran that you haven’t talked to in a long time and let them know you are thinking of them!

~Mike