Continuing from Part 6…
My First Combat Deployment, Iraq 2003
Once I arrived at my final duty station in San Diego, things moved extremely fast. I was assigned to EOD Mobile Unit Three, Detachment Nine (DET 09). I was assigned to DET 09 right after they had completed their evaluation process before deployment. Every EOD detachment must go through a training and evaluation period before the detachment can deploy operationally. When I first arrived at EODMU3 it was awesome.
I finally made it! I thought to myself.
The road here was tough. Over 200 tests, written and practical. Physical training that was off the charts. I was proud to have made it! But when I got to the command, I quickly learned that my career was just beginning. I had a lot to prove to my peers and to my community. One’s Crab can be stripped at any moment if performance isn’t up to par. Any signs of safety violations or flawed character and that’s it, you’re done! The community keeps a tight ship as it relates to safety and performance.
EOD is a high visibility job. There are moments where, as an E-5, you could be briefing high ranking officers, sometimes even Generals. Military bearing is a must! Physical appearance along with professionalism was beyond a requirement. But I did feel like I was part of a very special community. That’s because I was. EOD was a tough, dangerous job.
I remember the first few weeks were surreal. We were issued so much gear and equipment: dive gear, safety equipment, uniforms. It was like going on a boy toy shopping spree! Knives, wet-suits, body armor, tactical MICH helmet, personal gear—it was insane! And EOD training is never-ending. There are always training, tests, and practical application examinations that an EOD team and EOD technician must perform. I was the new guy and felt like I was behind the power curve.
We were assigned to the amphibious ship USS Boxer in 2003. At this point the US was only involved in the invasion of Afghanistan. Iraq was not occupied by US forces yet. On January 1st, 2003, we set sail to the Arabian Gulf on the USS Boxer. I was already used to shipboard life, having already completed aircraft carrier deployments. But being an EOD technician on the ship made me feel extremely proud.
Having been on two aircraft carriers, I felt spoiled. We were considered first responders and we had a unique skill that provided the ship with increased capability. We had head of line privileges during chow. Our workloads on the ship were slow paced. Lots of movie nights and plenty of time to work out.
Our detachment was small. We had one Officer in charge (Lieutenant), one Chief Petty Officer (E-7), one Lead Petty Officer (E-6) and four team members, a total of seven EOD Technicians. I was the lowest rank on the team with the least amount of experience. I was an E-5 at the time and the only experience I had was EOD school and follow-on training. Everyone else had at least one EOD deployment and/or the training and evaluation workup prior to the deployment under their belts.
Once we got on station in the Arabian Gulf, end of January 2003, a higher authority sent a requirement to our detachment for personnel to support combat operations for the invasion of Iraq. Three members were requested from our detachment. I got lucky, because one of the requirements was that one member should be a new guy. I was the newest member and was chosen to go to shore. Two other members of DET 09 and I went to Kuwait to stage for the invasion of Iraq in support of Operation IRAQI FREEDOM.
We were members of the first Joint Navy/Marine Corps EOD Platoon. The first operation I ever did as an EOD technician was out of Camp Coyote, Kuwait. The Marine EOD guys we were with were pretty cool. There was bad blood history between Navy and Marine EOD at the time, and the leadership decided that we were going to end this bad blood. We did. Both Marine and Navy EOD techs put our military branch pride aside and worked together. I was assigned a Marine EOD Team Leader, Jason Taylor. T-Bone was his nickname. He was hilarious, experienced, and very knowledgeable. The first 30 days in Camp Coyote we were issued Iraqi Ordnance Identification Guides, also know as the Purple Book.
T-Bone sat me down and told me, “I want you to look up every piece of ordnance in this book. I want you to write down every safety, and every detail. And do it fast! We don’t know when we are going to push into Iraq. I’m going to test you, so don’t fuck around!”
I took him extremely seriously. I didn’t want to let him down. We had computers with every ordnance on the planet. But the desert environment totally can destroy electronics. And it did. That purple book saved my ass many times during this deployment.
First EOD Response Operation
We went on a call near a Patriot launching system on Camp Coyote. There was leftover ordnance from the first Gulf War everywhere. The truck that pulled the launching system into position squeezed out a landmine from the sand. The truck driver was lucky it didn’t go off. The landmine was a Remote Anti-Armor Munition (RAAM), M73 AT SCATMINE. AT SCATMINEs are cylindrical in shape, weigh approximately 1.8 kilograms, contain 585 grams of cyclonite (RDX) explosive as the main charge, and have a magnetically induced fuse. They are deployed from a 155-mm shell. The mines are designed to kill the crew of the vehicle.
When we arrived on scene, the Marine EOD Team Leader asked if the Patriot launching system could be moved so we could just blow the mine in place. The Patriot launching crew said that it could not be moved. Go figure. The Marine EOD team leader T-Bone asked for a volunteer to go down and pick up the landmine and move it to a place where we could safely dispose of the landmine by detonation. Being the new guy, and being that I was Navy EOD, I wanted to prove myself to my Marine EOD team leader. I immediately raised my hand.
“OK, Fayal, let’s go!” he said.
The team leader started to brief me on what I was to do downrange.
“OK brother, here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to take this 550 cord, make a slip knot and carefully, CAREFULLY! attach it to the mine. DO NOT MOVE THE MINE WHILE DOING THIS! Then you’re going to go as far back as you can. All the way to the end of this 150 meter long 550 cord. Then, you’re going to lay down flat and pull the mine from its original position. Got it?” T-Bone instructed.
“Now, I hope you looked up this mine. Did you?” he asked me.
“Roger,” I responded.
“OK, tell me the major safety precautions of this mine,” he said.
I pulled out my purple book and read the notes I took. “The magnetic fuze is designed to detonate as the magnetic field changes over the mine. The warhead is bidirectional, meaning that it can fire from the top or the bottom. While anti-handling devices (AHDs) are built into 20 percent of M70, M73, and M75 mines, the M76 mines do not have AHDs. They can however detonate when moved, because the mine may sense a significant change from its original orientation.”
“Awesome brother! Good job! Now you know why you have to remote-pull it before you pick it up, and why I don’t want you to disturb the mine initially, right?” he responded.
“Roger,” I said.
“Now, what else do you need to do?” he asked me.
“I need to divest myself of all ferrous materials,” I responded.
“Fuck yeah! Awesome job! Now, do you have any questions for me before you go?”
“Negative.” I responded.
“Let’s go! You got this.” T-Bone encouraged.
Before I went down range to perform the procedures, I removed all metal from myself. Anything that contained metal, I had to take off: my watch, belt, boots, and dog tags. I was in my battle dress uniform (BDU) pants, T-shirt and flip flops; that was it.
I remember thinking, Seriously? This is some rudimentary procedures.
But I trusted T-Bone. He had years of experience with unexploded ordnance and he was an awesome leader. I needed him to trust me as well. It was a great start. I was so relieved that I had looked up this particular mine; I still had hundreds to look up. I started my long walk downrange. Each step I took, I became more and more focused. I can remember the surreal feeling that flushed through my body. About halfway there, I looked back at T-Bone. He was about 350 meters away.
Damn, he’s way back there, I thought.
I was all alone. No one to help me, no instructor or team leader there to guide me. All I had was the brief that T-Bone gave me, and the knowledge I gained from the purple book and EOD school. It was a detailed brief. I wasn’t going to deviate from it.
This is it! This is what I was trained to do! I thought.
I placed the 550 cord on the ground and took the running end. I got to where I could see the mine on the ground. I swear the mine was staring back at me as if it had eyes. The Patriot launching system was right next to it. I stopped again, now 400 meters away from T-Bone and the other guys. I looked back.
Man! They are really far away! OK! Lock it up, Andy! Let’s do this, I encouraged myself.
I got right up to the mine. I took a deep breath, made my slipknot in the 550 cord, and gently put it around the mine. I gently tightened the slipknot as to not disturb the mine.
OK, looks good, I thought.
I made sure that no part of my body was going to snag the 550 cord. I looked for a second time. Everything looked good. I stood up, turned and walked back to the working end of my 550 cord pull line. Standing over and touching an item that can kill you within milliseconds is life-altering, to say the least. This was the first time I felt the purity of thought/performing while numb/pushing through fear sensation. It was awesome!
That was when I first realized that EOD Technicians are truly crazy in some ways. Although I did feel some fear, it was overcome by excitement, training, professionalism, leadership, and pride. This was also the first time I learned that being a life-lover doesn’t cut it in this job. What I mean by being a life-lover is that an EOD Tech cannot value his or her own life over others. It just won’t work out for you.
I reached the end of my 550 cord pull line. I looked back at T-Bone and gave him a thumbs up. I lay down on my stomach on the hot, ancient sand. The wind was blowing a little. I got a little sand in my eyes. I scooted back and gently took the slack out of my 550 cord pull line. I took a deep breath, grasped the line in my right hand…
To be continued…