| The 173rd Long-Range Surveillance Detachment has had to modify its mission to short-range reconnaissance in the hunt for insurgents in Iraq. |
| By U.S. Army Staff Sgt. Raymond Drumsta 42nd Infantry Division Public Affairs |
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| FORWARD OPERATING BASE SUMMERALL, BAYJI, Iraq, Oct. 24, 2005 — U.S. Army Staff Sgt. Timothy Halloran and his team arrive at their departure point here about sundown. They watch the Iraqi highway that lies just outside the wire and wait for darkness. They seem almost casual as they talk among themselves, noting traffic and other activity. However, their ease is actually a professional detachment, a cool reserve which serves them as they again prepare to embark on one of the missions they've been doing for the last ten months - going outside the wire and scouting for insurgents. Pushing the Deer The team belongs to the U.S. Army's 42nd Infantry (Rainbow) Division's 173rd Long-Range Surveillance Detachment — the reconnaissance arm of Task Force Liberty, which has been conducting security and stability operations in north-central Iraq since January. Soldiers of the Rhode Island-based detachment have worked throughout Task Force Liberty's sector, doing missions with names like "terrain denial" and "offensive reconnaissance," according to U.S. Army Capt. Michael Manning, detachment commander . "We've been all over Task Force Liberty's area of operations," Manning said. "We've worked with all kinds of different units." By working with other maneuver units such as infantry companies and scout platoons, the detachment is part of a combined-arms fight which denies insurgents areas like coalition forces supply routes — a strategy Manning calls "pushing the deer" to the hunter. "Deer" are insurgents, and Task Force Liberty units like the long-range surveillance detachment are the hunters. "You have to push the deer," Manning said, "and we have to be there, covertly, to catch them." For teams like Halloran's, that means leaving the base, patrolling to an observation point and lying in wait — a mission the detachment did in Samarra from March through May. "These guys would spend 24 to 48 hours out there," Manning said, "waiting for a target." "I like the excitement, the thrill," said U.S. Army Sgt. Joe Voccio, Halloran's assistant team leader, from Cranston, R.I. "We work in small teams. We go where most people don't want to go. We've lain in excrement, chicken coops and drainage ditches. You're among the people and they don't even know you're there." "You have to have a field mentality," said team member U.S. Army Spc. Mike Finn, who is from Warwick, R.I. Everyone on the team can think for themselves, he added. "If something happens, you have to know what to do without being told," he said. "You have to be able to pick up and do other team members' jobs." The combined arms operations the detachment participated in Samarra were successful, said Manning. "It was a good combined arms fight," Manning said. In Samarra, the detachment worked with units such as 3rd Battalion, 69th Armor to deny insurgents use of a route locals called the Fallujah Road, Manning said. "There's a lot of crime on that road," he said. "It's a main line of communication for anti-Iraqi forces." In Samarra, detachment soldiers patrolled into areas anti-Iraqi forces had been forced into, Manning said. This led to some direct fire engagements. "It was great teamwork," Manning said. "We denied [anti-Iraqi forces] use of the terrain. That was a success. What we didn't deliver was a high body count." The first job of the detachment is to "observe and report," Manning added. "First and foremost, we're collectors of information," he said. "I have a tremendous amount of respect for the infantry companies working in Samarra. They've experienced the full spectrum of combat operations. They're in the fight. Those guys are outstanding."
Into the Shadows It's dusk when the team sets out. Tiny clouds erupt around the soldiers' boots as they walk across the dust and sparse scrub-brush toward the wire about 300 yards away. Halfway there, Halloran halts his team behind a dirt mound. The team waits for a break in the traffic, then quickly walks the final 150 yards. There, they lie prone in a shallow depression and wait several minutes for the traffic to thin out again. Once it does, they're up, over the wire and across the road into the shadows on the other side. It's fully dark now, but potential danger still lingers nearby. A truck approaches on a narrow dirt road parallel to the team's line of march. Again they duck behind a dirt mound and wait out the tense seconds as the truck passes. And that's the way it goes...short walks, then short halts through the empty desert spaces between Iraqi villages and towns - narrow corridors the team moves along, unseen. Long-Range Reconnaissance Detachment Goes Short In Iraq, the long-range surveillance detachment had to modify its mission to short-range reconnaissance, Manning said, and take on other, non-doctrinal missions. "You use the same tactics and procedures, but for a close-in fight," Manning said. "We redefined how we employed ourselves." That included a month-long mounted reconnaissance push, or offensive reconnaissance, into the western desert in April. Manning said unit members mapped the western desert from Samarra to Lake Thar Thar, identifying routes and confirming the presences of anti-Iraqi forces. The soldiers made stops along the way — talking with Iraqis, engendering good will, collecting information and developing intelligence (intel) sources. With persistence and revisits, the unit was successful at this, relying on police officers in its ranks to build trust with locals, who were forthcoming with information, Manning said. "Our cops were best at this...it took a beat-cop mentality to talk with people and develop sources," Manning said. "But it takes time. You have to develop a rapport." This effort helped build a 'snapshot,' Manning said, of Samarra and its influences. "The push out into the western desert was a combination of emerging doctrine and traditional [long-range surveillance detachment] missions," he said. The Wait Besides scrub brush, the terrain the team traverses is uneven, hardened clay humps and stretches of soft, ankle-wrenching sand. Even so, they move swiftly, stopping occasionally to check their position or make a radio call. They reach their surveillance point behind a low ridge a short time later, and lie down. From the spot they can peer over the crest of the ridge - "to overwatch a road where a lot of [improvised explosive devices] have been planted," Halloran later explained. When the team spots someone planting an improvised explosive device, they'll call other units to respond in force. But it's a wait, so the team radios that they've reached their spot, pull night-vision devices from their patrol packs, and scan the road and the terrain around them. Sign of the Shamrock Following their duty in Samarra, the unit was sent to Forward Operating Base Summerall to help fight a growing problem for Task Force Liberty - improvised explosive device and vehicle-borne improvised explosive devices. In fact, the base was hit with a vehicle-borne device while the detachment was doing its advance reconnaissance of the area, said Manning. "We knew it would be busy here as well," he said. Manning said the detachment began working in coordination with other units, and for Task Force Dragoon, 1st Battalion, 103rd Armor, doing mounted and dismounted operations to deny insurgents use of key terrain - roads. The mission continues to be a success, he added. "We've been able to do terrain-denial very well," said Manning. "In the area [long-range surveillance detachment] is working, there are no attacks. That is our legacy." With Task Force 1-103, the detachment's efforts led to the capture of two key members of a Bayji vehicle-borne improvised explosive device cell, said Manning. The two |
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insurgents were considered to be high-value targets, and attacks went down dramatically. "These kids shut it down," said Manning. The unit has shamrocks on the gun turrets and doors of their humvees - a highly-visible, distinct symbol rooted in the detachment's nickname, "Murphy," and its diversity, which includes first and second-generation Irish Americans, and Portuguese, Dominican and Puerto Rican immigrants, among others. "I want [the insurgents] to know who we are," Manning said. "I want them to know when they see that shamrock, that they're in for a fight." Dogs of War The stars are visible, and the Milky Way lives up to its name in the dark of the desert where the team sits hidden. With their night-vision devices, the team commands the terrain around them, insofar as they can probably see better than anyone else. Still, Halloran had said in his mission briefing that some night-vision devices came up missing in the sector, so the team keeps low. They speak only when necessary and only in whispers. Around them however, Iraq is talking in a dissonant choir of human voices and sounds of livestock. Along with the stars, the lights of nearby towns can be seen, and the sounds barking dogs and human voices coming from them make it seem like the team is on the outskirts of an American suburb, not lying in the dust of the Iraqi desert, watching for terrorists. But the team is attuned to other sounds around them, like the occasional gunshot. When it happens they speculate among themselves, making educated guesses as to its origin and the weapon used. Then they radio this estimate to their headquarters. Operational Pros and Cons The unit patrols near key areas Manning called "centers of gravity," - large population centers which insurgents use to set up ambushes, and improvised explosive device and vehicle-borne improvised explosive device attacks. Samarra and Bayji are centers of gravity, Manning said, and the detachment's surveillance operations are part of the effort to disrupt insurgent activities. "We've set up [observation posts] 200 meters from a village, and they don't even know we're there," Manning said. But these centers of gravity have people and livestock, so this means the detachment soldiers have learned to "accept some compromise" said Manning. Dogs have actually walked up to teams during missions, he added. "The terrain is not conducive to dismounted operations," Halloran said. "There are very few places to hide. The darkness is our ally." Halloran, who is from Stonington, Conn., later laughed when asked about the barking they seem to encounter every mission. "Spay or neuter your pets," he joked. Some unit members are more comfortable doing dismounted operations, Finn said. "You're not going to get hit with an [improvised explosive device] out in the desert," he said. "With such a small team, you have the leeway to do what you have to do." Traffic or Targets? There's traffic on the road, and it makes the team anxious and disappointed by turns. Silently, patiently, they track the occasional civilian vehicle coming down the road. When a civilian pick-up truck drones by without stopping, Finn curses softly. "Damnit," he whispers. "I'd like to stop the guy from blowing up Americans." The 'guy' Finn is referring to is an insurgent unit members call the 'the landmine guy.' "I thought it might have been the landmine guy," Finn said later about the pick-up truck. "It's frustrating sometimes. He's been putting in landmines since we've been [at Forward Operating Base Summerall]." "Landmine guy" is generic term Halloran explained. "It could be five or six people," he said. Team members go out wanting to find insurgents, said Voccio - "to destroy the enemy," he said. "That's why we're out there." "You want tangible evidence you made a difference," said Halloran. Soon, another nerve-racking, louder presence rumbles by - a Coalition Forces Convoy Logistic Patrol. The trucks drown out the dogs and noise from towns, and their lights make the team hunker down even more behind the ridge. Soon after, the team is buzzed by the Apache attack helicopters that are orbiting the convoy. Though the team is working with other units, elements from outside the area of operations come through, usually in convoys. The team knows the danger of friendly fire is very real. "Pretty dangerous," whispers Voccio. "If they spot us, they'll shine lights and lasers at us." But the team's headquarters knows where they are, and they've let other friendly forces know. Even so, Halloran can radio the helicopters or convoys if he thinks there is a problem, and make sure they know the team is there, and that they're friendly forces as well. Lessons Learned Manning tempered talk of his unit's success with a sober appraisal of the enemy and lessons they've learned. "All the stupid [insurgents] are dead," Manning said. "The rest are cunning opponents. Some of them are very good at what they do." Better coordination is needed in the terrain-denial battle on main-supply routes, Manning said. "Everyone has to own a piece of the [main-supply route] fight," he said. Soldiers are the best source of information he added. "The best intel we get, that drives operations, is from the soldier on the ground," he said. "You have to talk to people. Use your intel to create sources of information." End of Mission, for Now It's after 1 a.m. when the team picks up and heads back to base. Inside the wire they're greeted by a chow truck making the rounds of the guard posts. The team members accept some ice-cream bars and eat them as they stow their equipment and climb aboard their humvee. The next stop is the task force intel section, where they'll bluntly report that they saw nothing. The team will go out again tomorrow. The soldiers are blunt about the situation as well. Halloran and Voccio said the insurgents they face are being paid. "The money is in [improvised explosive devices]," Voccio said. "That, and they hate us." Voccio's gritty assessment extends to the future as well. "It's going to take a while," he said. "We have to get these people to trust us and understand that we're truly here to help them." |
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