Michael J. Totten - On the Hunt in Baghdad

Michael J. Totten

If your men conduct any raids, I said to Captain Todd Looney on the outskirts of Sadr City, Baghdad, I want to go.

We might have something come up, he said. If so, Ill get you out there.

Less than an hour later Haji Jawad, one of the most dangerous terrorist leaders in all of Iraq, was spotted holding a meeting at a house in the area. An arrest warrant had already been issued by the government of Iraq, and Captain Looneys company was the closest to his location. They would be the ones to go get him.

Do you still have room for me? I said.

Get your gear, he said.

Last time I was in Baghdad, I was told that most suspects surrender the instant they realize their house is surrounded. Fighting would be suicidal, and most terror cell leaders do not seek martyrdom. But the man we were after was far more committed and vicious than usual.

Is he the kind of guy who might shoot at us during a raid? I said to Captain Clint Rusch.

Oh yeah, he said. Hes definitely the kind of guy who will shoot at us. Hes a really bad dude. A few weeks ago he and his men lobbed huge bombs at a JSS in the area and almost destroyed it, then called up the commander and asked him how was his morning. And he said if we dont stop chasing him, hell start wearing a suicide vest wherever he goes.

The tip-off came in over the phone late at night when the terrorist leaders meeting was almost scheduled to be finished. By the time everyone had their gear and was ready to go, we had seventeen minutes or less to drive across a portion of Sadr City and break down the door before the meeting was over.

We ran to the Humvees.

Go with Sergeant Gonzales, Captain Looney said to me. When we dismount, catch up to me and stay on me. He looked angry all of a sudden, but mostly he was just being serious. Any of us might be killed in less than an hour.

Our convoy of Humvees roared down Baghdads streets in the dark without headlights. I checked my watch. No time to waste. We had eleven minutes to catch the bastard before his meeting was scheduled to end. Hopefully he and his pals were on Arab time and would hang out and drink tea for a while before heading out.

Almost every house we drove past was dark. Few streetlights worked. It was hard to believe I was in the middle of a city of millions. Iraqs electrical grid is still in terrible shape. Baghdad is only marginally better lit than the countryside. It produces perhaps only one or two percent as much ambient light after dark as cities in normal countries. Baghdad at night from the air looks more like a gigantic constellation of Christmas lights than the brightly lit circuit board of Los Angeles.

The Humvee in front of mine suddenly stopped. Our driver slammed on his brakes.

Dismount! Sergeant Gonzales said from the passenger seat in the front.

Here we go .

I got out of the Humvee. Even hopped up on adrenaline its impossible to throw those doors open quickly. They weigh hundreds of pounds because theyre thickly up-armored with inches of steel.

Every soldier could see better than I could. They all had night-vision goggles. I had to rely on my eyes in a near-pitch black corner of a dark city. It takes thirty minutes for a mans eyes to adjust to darkness, and we had left the brightly lit interior of the base less than ten minutes before.

Sergeant Gonzales motioned for me to follow him alongside a wall toward an opening that led into the neighborhood. I stepped in a deep puddle of mud. At least I hoped it was mud. Sewage still runs in the streets in much of Baghdad, and we were in one of the most decrepit parts of the city. But I hardly cared what had just splashed up onto my pant legs. Any second now I might be shot at or worse.

One at a time we poured through the hole in the wall. Every single house on the other side was cloaked in darkness. I had no idea which house we were about to storm into, but the soldiers knew and I followed them up to the gate.

It was locked. One of the soldiersI couldnt tell anyone apart in the darkkicked it with everything he had. Twice. And it did not open.

Goddamn it! Captain Looney said.

He pulled out an enormous hammer and swung it hard against the front of the gate.

BANG.

The gate merely shook.

BANG.

The metal gate shuddered, but it didnt break.

BANG.

Everyone in the neighborhood must have heard us by then.

If a meeting was still going on in that house, they knew we were coming. I kept as close to the wall as I could in case we were shot at. No one inside the house would be able to hit me as long as I didnt back up into the street.

Taking the house would be much more dangerous now, but the soldiers brought flashbang grenades. Flashbangs stun and blind everyone in a room for up to ten seconds. All the soldiers had to do was toss one of those babies into the rooms ahead of them. Ten seconds is an eternity in room-to-room combat. And American soldiers can do whatever they want in a room full of terrorists in less than two seconds.

BANG.

The hammer came down on the gate once again, but it still didnt break.

Keep busting it open while were climbing the wall! Captain Looney said.

BANG.

The wall was about seven feet high and made of cement. Most of us couldnt get over it without some kind of boost. Im not used to throwing myself over walls taller than I am, and the soldiers were weighed down with 80 pounds of armor and gear. Someone crouched on all four and let everyone else use his back as a step ladder. That effectively knocked two feet off the height of the wall. Its easy to climb five feet.

Keep going over! the captain said. Keep going over!

The gate was locked from the inside. Those on the other side desperately tried to unlock it, to no avail.

Bolt cutters coming over! somebody yelled and tossed a pair of cutters over the gate. They came prepared.

And yet still the gate did not open. We had wasted almost a minute while making one hell of a racket.

I felt useless just standing there and tried mostly in vain to take photographs in the dark. What was I supposed to be doing? Im not trained for kinetic raids. I didnt know the procedure.

So I selected a soldier at random and asked. Is everyone going over the wall? Do I need to go over, too?

At that point I was ready to take orders from even a private.

Yes, sir, he said, whoever he was. You need to go over.

Cant say I was thrilled about that. Unless they got that gate opened, Id be pinned in the tight enclosed courtyard in front of a suspected terrorists nest. There would be no running away if something happened. But that was preferable to being left all alone on the street in front of that house while the soldiersmy de facto bodyguardswere inside and over the wall.

One of the soldiers who had gone over ahead of me kicked in the front door of the house with his boot. The sounds of smashing glass and twisting metal surely alerted anyone in the house who somehow might not have heard the banging on the gate with the hammer.

If the target inside was indeed wearing a suicide vest, this was most likely when he would martyr himself and take some of us with him, so I waited a moment before climbing onto the wall. I had cover from an explosion as long as I stayed where I was. But I didnt hear anything

The soldier crouching in the mud was waiting for me to use his back as a step ladder, so I planted my muddy boot in the small of his back. I felt slightly bad about that, but he was plenty filthy already. I had five more feet of wall to clear, and for an absurd moment I worried that I might humiliate myself by not being able to make it over the top. That was ridiculous. It was only five feet, and besidesI had so much adrenaline in my body at that moment that I could have thrown a car.