Well, sorry I haven't written in some time, but things have been hectic. We have lost a true friend in the fight to help the people of Iraq. It happened on the 19th of January. Steve E. had only arrived in country maybe three or four weeks earlier. Great guy, always happy and helpful. He fit in right away with the rest of the guys. I had been told the night before that we were short a member on the security team for the next days mission and if I wouldn't mind filling in for half the day.
The past mornings, the weather had been foggy and cold, but this morning it was clear, Steve E. was driving and I was riding shotgun, followed by another two-man team bringing up the rear. We departed the LSA turning right, heading North to begin our security sweep of the ASP. Steve E. was explaining the route we were taking, as I had not gone on a security sweep since my arrival at Camp Mustang.
The area is very desolate, a few structures remained in the area, most had been demolished either by colalition bombing runs or past teams working in the area. There are remnants of destroyed ordinance and scrap every where. The purpose of the security sweeps, ensure that there is no insurgent activity in the area, once the sweep is conducted the UXO personnel can be escorted out into the ASP to begin their operations.
We had finished the North, East and South areas of the ASP, and were just getting back onto the gravel road that runs along our West side of ASP when it happened...
I had just finished telling Steve E. that I was glad I had a lid on my coffee mug, the cross country route being so bumpy, when in slow motion I remember an enormous roar, being bounced into the roof of the truck, black dust everywhere, the windshield turning solid white, I don't remember if I got knocked out or not, but I must have. The next thing I remember is finding the ballistic window from my side of the vehicle on top of me. I looked over to see if Steve was okay, only seeing his vacant seat and the door ajar. I could see Steve's lower torso laying just outside the door, but couldn't see his upper torso.
I yelled out to him, asking if he was okay, he replied "I'm Fucked", I told him we would be ok and to hang on. I attempted to get out of the truck, pushing the ballistic glass out of the window and tried to open the door, but couldn't get it opened. About that time automatic gunfire erupted around our vehicle. Frantically trying to find my M4 rifle, I found it behind the passenger seat, it must have been blown back there when the IED went off. I could hear people yelling outside, thinking they weren't yelling in Arabic, when my door suddenly opened. Thank God, it was one of our own. Both Rob C. and Steve A. from the other vehicle were extracting us from our mangle vehicle. I think it was Steve A. that was yelling at me, "Chris get out of the vehicle, get out of the vehicle" He pulled me out and I attempted to run over to their vehicle for cover, but my left leg have substained injury. Steve A. pulled while I half crawled to a position that I could cover them while they went to get Steve E.
Looking around attempting to locate the insurgents, not finding any I kept close watch on the berms just southwest from us, there were a couple of logical points of cover for the insurgents, I could see a farm about 1/2 of a kilometer and the empty shell of a white vehicle in the same area. The boys got Steve E. behind the vehicle, Steve A. immediately began emergency first aid while Rob and I provided cover. Steve E. was alive but in shock, his face ashened, but still breathing, slipping in and out of consicious. The QRF's were inbound to our location from Camp Mustang.
We were unsure of what type of IED that we had hit, not receiving any in coming rounds, it could be land mines, we relayed this to the responding QRF's. The QRF's arrived at our location coming cross country once they could see us. It was good to see those big ass white South African Caspiers. The Caspier carrying Doc Chew came in on our east side, backing up right next to our vehicle, allowing additional cover. Doc was out of the vehicle and working on Steve in seconds, barking out orders, getting IV's started and treating him for shock. The other remainder of the security team members sent up a 360 on the Doc's position. We called for an Emergency Medivac, giving our grid coordinates to Camp Mustang.
The Doc was feverishly trying to get liquids back into Steve's body, telling us that the medivac needed to get here quick, Steve had received massive injuries to his internal organs and was bleeding out. Suddenly another IED went off about 25 meters from us on the drivers side of our mangled vehicle. Still not seeing any insurgents we continued to provide cover wondering where the hell the helicopters were. Camp Mustang was again called via radio, we needed the copters here now, Doc Chew told us Steve had another 10 minutes to live, not being able to put enough fluids into him.
We were finally advised that the medivac bird was inbound, I had two of the men located and secured an LZ just south of our location, waiting for the birds arrival. Just minutes later the Doc told us that Steve had died, and nothing further could be down for him, I don't remember who was bagging Steve, but looking at him, I could see the tears in his eyes, not wanting to give up. Doc finally made him stop. Doc and others prepared Steve's body for the medivac's arrival, while the rest of the team remained in there positions. It was very quite, all of us not really accepting Steve's death. Steve A asked the Doc to take a look at me, the boys helped me getting up into the Caspier. The doc checked me out, I luckily had received only minor injuries to my left leg, mouth and ribs. I told the Doc that I wanted to stay with the men, but the Doc and Steve demanded that I get on the medivac when it arrived.
Sixty eight minutes after we had ran over the IED the medivac helicopters arrived, the men carried Steve's body out to the helicopter, speaking with one of the medics, they set Steve down and called me over to the bird, I tried to walk but couldn't, one of the boys carried me. The Army medic got me on the bird, I strapped in and the door was closed, Steve would not be making the journey to the Evac hospital with me.
My last view looking out the window as it banked north was my team members on the ground, in a circle protecting Steve's body. I cried on my flight to the hospital, the medic holding my hand for comfort.
I own a debt of gratitude to my men, the men of Armor Group.
God Bless Steve, and I only hope he is in a better place, looking down on us, covering us from above...
