3/22/2003

The blood of the Americans stained the desert sand

The news we are hearing from Iraqi soldiers heading north is that there are no oil wells on fire. The fires are all from oil PIPELINES, which were lit by American missiles as they fired at the troops in the towns. The fires are going out now that the oil supply has been turned off by the Americans.

And a colonel told me before we left that leader Hussein is not going to talk to the people for a while, because he wants the focus of the war not be him. He wants the war to be between the Iraqi people and the Americans, and not between Saddam and Americans. I see why he is a survivor. He is an excellent strategist.

Since yesterday night, we have been driving southwards. At the moment, we are between An Najaf and As Samawah. We are planning to coordinate attacks on American troops who we hear are in the Basrah area. One ‘exciting’ incident happened so far.

As me and 14 other men were driving in the night, we could hear the planes booming across our heads. About 8 men are non-Iraqi arab, like myself, and they got all worked up every now at then, and hurling classic insults like “evil imperialist donkeys!” into the howling air. I was collecting information from internet sources in the back of a jeep. Then I saw the picture.

The picture of the American soldier raising a flag over an Iraqi town. I felt angry, but that was small compared to the fearsome rage the picture transformed the men into. They started talking and shouting, screaming that the Americans would never take Arab land or oil, and went on and on. Then one of them must have reached a level of rage that he could no longer humanly control, grabbed a rifle, and started blasting at the planes passing above. We tried to stop him, but he continued shouting and shooting.

Now, we are riding in a specially heat shielded car that can only be detected at low heights, for example, with helicopters. Planes cannot read our heat signature. But they will read the gunshots clearly.

We were not sure if the Americans would send attackers to us or not, but just to make sure, we got out the car, switched it off, and took a rest. I couldn’t use my PC because of the radio signal.

30 minutes later, we were about to go on, when we heard the intermittent buzz, carried by the desert wind, of a vehicle. So we stayed put, dug ourselves into shallow sand trenches, and waited. Then the headlights came down the highway, and raced up towards us. We were sure it would be an Iraqi car, but to make sure, we drove our car into the middle of the road. When the driver saw that happening, he swerved, parked sideways, and started shooting in our direction. We didn’t reply, but tried to make contact on Iraqi radio frequency. There was no reply. The car reversed, and drove away.

We stayed put, wondering if those could be the Americans. 10 minutes later, we were attacked from the air, probably by an unmanned aircraft. One of our chaps, Usman was hit by some rock or something, and got a nasty cut in his arm. He wasn’t in a trench as he should have been.

I concluded that it must have been Amerian special ops. We decided to go get them.

As the bomb hit, we had all ran away from our car, carrying our backpacks with equipment. A few minutes later, it exploded, like we expected it would. Our trenchcoats absorb and disperse heat, and if we do not run together, it is impossible to detect us on the ground. Also, the radio we use is one of these new multiple frequency things, which change the frequency every minute based on a preprogrammed arrangement, so we could not be tracked by radio.

We organised, and moved a few kilometers up the road, and shooting detection flares up the road. These are very small missiles, which can go about 5 kilometers horizontally, and scan the ground for movements by taking multiple snapshots. So our computers can detect who is moving up to 5 kilometers ahead of us. Luckily for us, and unfortunaltey for the Americans, they were parked about 10 km down, waiting for us to die and let them by.

We formed our plan, and started a large encirclment movement. In about 30 minutes, we had formed a large circle around the enemy vehicle and we started moving towards them. From about 500 meters, Usman locked their metal vehicle with his radar guided small missile launcher. This is like an RPG, but smaller, and with smaller bullets. But the power is much larger.

He shot off the missile, and we dropped to the ground. A few moments later, the boom, and a confused clattering of semi automatic rifles. Then the shooting stopped. We moved in slowly, scanning the area with night vision goggles. We saw the car burning, and at least one dead person beside. As we neared, and were about 100 meters from the position, shooting started from behind the car. We dropped to the ground, and I radiod the man that was coming from that direction to take care of them. A few minutes later, a barrage of shooting from one of our guns (which are pretty large caliber), and the area seemed to be clear. We walked in, and 3 dead Americans together with 1 wounded one were lying around their smouldering vehicle.

Before we could stop him, Usman ran up to the American, and started shouting in Arabic at him. He was looking confused up at him, and then Usman grabbed the net of the helmet of the American, pushed his face against the muzzle of his rifle, and shot him.

Like I mentioned, we are using guns that are roughly equivalent to elephant guns in caliber, and the mess was horrific. The man was headless, and brains and skull was sprayed on our trenchcoats. We stood there, shocked, looking at the carnage.

But we had to get moving, so we grabbed the bodies, threw them into the truck, retreated, and blasted it again with the RPG, setting it on fire again, and leaving the bodies to burn.

Then we radiod the next town, and asked for a replacement jeep. For the next hour, we slept, and I dreamt of a blood stained desert, reaching as wide as the eye could see, and of which there was no beginning and no end.