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Authors: Sean Naylor

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BOOK: Not a Good Day to Die
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AT
the Gardez safe house February 27 was a day of last-minute preparations for the AFO recce missions: weapons cleaning, radio checks, and preparing and loading the trucks that would take the teams to the drop-off point. Jay, the Air Force special ops combat controller, gave a class on how to “rack and stack” aircraft for close air support operations. This was particularly important for India Team, which was not taking a combat controller into the valley this time.

After further analysis of maps and imagery, the three teams had settled on locations for their observation posts and the routes they would take to reach them. Juliet would travel around the northern tip of the valley to occupy a spot high in the eastern ridgeline from which they could overwatch Serkhankhel and the northern half of the valley. They would not be walking. After examining the northern approaches to the Shahikot on the environmental recce mission to Serawray Mountain, Kris K., the team leader, had hit upon the idea of using ATVs to penetrate the valley and climb up the eastern ridge. Juliet Team would be riding to battle.

India and Mako 31, on the other hand, would approach the Shahikot on foot from the south. India had picked an observation post in high ground south of the Fishhook, from which they could observe the southern end of the Whale and TF Hammer’s route toward the valley. The SEALs of Mako 31 intended to occupy a position on the Finger that poked into the southern end of the valley. Together, these three positions would allow Blaber’s teams to observe the entire valley, except for some dead ground between the mountains on the eastern ridgeline.

Goody and his SEALs hadn’t had time to conduct an environmental recon, so they were naturally a bit wary about the task ahead. “At first Goody was very apprehensive about taking this mission,” said a source in the safe house. “His guys didn’t have the benefit of either Montana or those environmental recons, so Blaber had to make sure they knew how confident he was in them…. He just told them, ‘I wouldn’t send you in if I didn’t think you could do it, and I think you can do this.’” As the teams prepared to depart the safe house, Blaber held a last face-to-face, heart-to-heart talk with the Mako 31 team leader, whom he regarded as “a true warrior and a great guy.”

“Goody, the success or failure of your mission will predicate the success or failure of the entire operation,” the AFO commander told the SEAL NCO. “You have to make it to that OP [observation post] before H-Hour.” Neither man could have known how true Blaber’s words were to prove, but Goody was determined not to let his new boss down. “Sir, I’ll make it to my OP come hell or high water,” Goody replied. “If we’re hurting on time, I’ll drop our rucks. If we’re still having problems, I’ll keep dropping gear until five naked guys with guns are standing on the OP at H-Hour.”
Where do we get such men?
Blaber thought as Goody walked away.

 

JUST
after 7 p.m., two Toyota pickups pulled out of the safe house and turned left. The trucks were mounted with MAG-58 7.62mm and Squad Automatic Weapon machine guns. On board were the eight operators of India and Mako 31, plus the four members of “the infil team”—Captain John B., Master Sergeant Isaac H., Sergeant Major Al Y., and Hans—plus about fifteen of Zia’s fighters in the backs of the trucks. Behind them on four ATVs rode Juliet’s five commandos—Kris K., Bill R., and Dave H. from Delta, each on his own ATV, with Jason from Gray Fox sharing a ride with Jay, the combat controller.

Some of the ATVs were Delta’s and had been provided by Task Force 11 and some were loaned to Juliet by ODA 372. The Delta ATVs had been extensively—and expensively—modified with reinforced axles and suspensions, plus special mufflers that silenced their exhausts. “They’re really quiet,” said a Delta source. “I mean, impressively quiet. And then they’re spec’d out. They have the proper torque and engine horsepower capacity to carry the load that they’re supposed to carry—a heavy load—fast, and to go up steep hillsides…. Our mobility gurus go out, bring in vendors, tell them exactly what we want…[the vendors] love doing that shit.” The ATVs loaned by McHale’s A-team didn’t have all the high-tech modifications, but they did have one neat piece of gadgetry in common with the Delta models: With the flick of a switch the rider could kill the white headlight and turn on an infrared beam invisible to the naked eye, but not to the operators wearing their night-vision goggles.

With the pickups also being driven with their lights off, the small convoy rolled quietly south out of Gardez, a family of shadows heading into the unknown. Juliet’s four ATVs split from the convoy before reaching the checkpoint manned by Gardez shura fighters, leaving the road and heading east to proceed with their infiltration. The time was 7:45 p.m. The four ATVs moved as pairs, with Bill R. in the lead, and Dave H. second. Jason and Jay rode third, with team leader Kris K. bringing up the rear. The team bounced across the rough terrain, the operators’ gaze alternating between the ground in front of them and the hills and mountains around them, searching for anything that might threaten the mission, be it a hidden rock or an Al Qaida sniper. They moved through the deserted hamlet of Kwas and then around the village of Cine. They had hoped to cross the Wac Sakh Ghar Mountain to the east, but the passes that had looked inviting on the imagery were impassable. Ahead lay the small town of Menjawar, in which intel reports said 100 enemy fighters were billeted. The team had no option but to ride through the enemy-held town. It was half past midnight when the four ATVs zigzagged silently through Menjawar’s deserted streets, which were just a few yards wide and lined with mud walls. The solid cloud cover gave the operators a distinct advantage as they crept under their enemy’s nose in the dead of the cold, dark night. They were all but invisible to the naked eye, but their infrared headlights and night-vision goggles gave them perfect vision. They saw nothing to alarm them. The special ops mechanics had done their jobs well: The ATVs were so quiet that nothing stirred in Menjawar, save the dogs that could be heard barking from behind the walls.

Once through the town, the team breathed a collective sigh of relief and motored on, jouncing toward the Shahikot. They finally found a way east through the Gawyani Ghar ridgeline. The operators navigated using Falcon-View maps loaded into laptops that they carried in pouches on the ATVs’ gas tanks, where the operators could easily access them. The laptops were fitted with GPS receivers, so the team members were able to trace their own movements on the digital map in real time. They were tracked by a Joint STARS surveillance aircraft designed to spot moving vehicles. The crew on the Joint STARS, one of several spy planes supporting the recce missions, reported to the team that they could see additional movement in the area. The Juliet operators were in an area where an enemy bunker with a DShK had been reported. They rode south with their senses on high alert, but the only things moving were a few dogs. As they neared the Shahikot, Bill raised his hand quickly to signal “Stop!” He had made a heartstopping discovery—around them the rocks were painted with red
X
s—the symbol for mines. Despite the care with which they had chosen their route, they had ridden into a minefield. If just one ATV hit a mine, it would mean mission failure. The explosion would alert enemy fighters for miles around to their presence and would almost certainly kill or maim the unfortunate rider of the ATV that triggered it. Kris evaluated his options. Sixty meters to the south a sloping rock face rose steeply from the ground, paralleling their route and offering a potential avenue of escape. The operators pointed their vehicles toward the outcropping and then rode for several hundred meters along the exposed rock with their ATVs tilted at a gravity-defying 45-degree angle until they were safely out of the minefield.

As Juliet Team approached the Shahikot’s eastern wall, the terrain began to rise. Giant rock shelves jutted menacingly over the plain. Bill scrutinized the dim silhouettes ahead of him with a practiced eye and again calmly raised his arm to halt the team. Kris drove up to ask him what he’d seen. Bill pointed upward. There, 4,000 feet above them, was an enemy fighter standing beside a DShK smoking a cigarette. Then Bill indicated another DShK position 200 meters away from the first. Of course, they were too far away to be seen by the enemy gunners. Kris lased the two positions and recorded their locations. Then the team drove directly under the machine-gun posts, moving more slowly to ensure they wouldn’t be heard. A few minutes later they came to the draw they had selected as their route toward their observation post. Pointing their vehicles up a dry creek bed, they began their ascent into the mountains. They climbed slowly through increasingly deep snow. Suddenly Bill felt his ATV beginning to tip upright into the “wheelie” position. He flung himself off just before the vehicle rolled backward end over end down the slope. There was remarkably little damage done. The team members had packed to minimize the risk to any sensitive equipment if the vehicles rolled over. When they clambered down the slope, they realized they had been successful.

Poring over the maps and photos at Gardez, Juliet had picked two possible locations for their observation posts in the Shahikot. Their plan was to reach the first by daybreak, spend all day there, and then move to the second after dark. They made good time, but found the first location unsuitable. Kris decided to press on to the second observation post. This was the most dangerous stage of the infil. At any moment an enemy fighter could spy them as the ATVs crawled forward through the snow, the operators scanning their surroundings for the smallest hint of an Al Qaida presence. It took the team three hours to cover the last 1,000 meters, but they made it. This spot was much better and afforded good views of the Whale, Serkhankhel, and the valley’s northern end. The operators hid the ATVs behind a ten-foot embankment and camouflaged them with netting. They put up a tent right behind the ATVs, then walked about 100 meters up to the observation post. This way they could have three guys in the OP and two sleeping in the tent. Once they reached the OP, they took off their helmets to get a sense of what an operator called the “sights, sounds, and smells” of their surroundings. This was a key part of the recce concept. “Whenever you get in a new place, you want to stop, take off your helmets, and get used to the environment,” an operator said later. At 4:47 a.m. Kris called back to Gardez and reported that the team was beginning operations. It had taken them nine hours to drive about twelve kilometers, but Juliet Team had made it in.

 

AFTER
watching Juliet’s ATVs disappear into the darkness, the two pickups continued south for about 15 kilometers then left the road and headed east for about 4,500 meters before stopping at 10:15 p.m. This was the drop-off point for the remaining teams. As soon as the trucks came to a halt, the AMF fighters jumped out and ran to the nearest high ground, throwing a secure perimeter around the Americans in a matter of seconds. The small force was deep in territory that, if not enemy-held, could certainly be considered enemy-controlled. There was no time for long goodbyes. The teams had far to walk to reach their observation posts before dawn. The eight operators of India Team and Mako 31 jumped down from the cabs, shouldered their packs, and marched into the night.

John B. kept his team sitting at the drop-off point for about thirty minutes after the recce teams departed, ready to come to their aid if they ran into trouble immediately. Then he called the Afghan pickets down from the high ground, mounted up, and headed back toward Gardez. This was the riskiest part of the operation for the infil team. Any enemy elements they might have surprised on the way in would by now have been alerted to their presence and waiting in ambush for their return. The infiltration team’s job—to drop off and pick up the recce teams—was not glamorous, but John B., who usually led such missions, earned the recce operators’ respect for the way he applied himself to the task. “He’s the best troop commander I’ve every worked for,” said an operator. “He displayed a lot of physical and moral courage.” John would need to call on his reserves of courage and coolness under pressure on the nerve-jangling drive back. First, the operators spotted two or three vehicles behaving suspiciously near a small town west of their route. The infil team stopped and observed the vehicles, which eventually left the area. Continuing north, the two Toyotas were shot at by militiamen manning the Gardez shura checkpoint. Equipped with night-vision goggles, perfectly zeroed M4 rifles, and years of shoothouse training, the four operators in the vehicles—three from Delta and one from SEAL Team 6—were infinitely superior marksmen to the tribesmen at the checkpoint and in all likelihood could have killed every one of the militiamen without even calling on the AMF fighters in the back of the trucks. But John decided the checkpoint guards probably fired more from sheer fright at the sight of the two pickups emerging from the darkness than from any ill will they bore those in the vehicles. Eager to avoid what one account of the episode described as “unneeded killing,” he told his troops to hold their fire and outflank the checkpoint. They did so and arrived at the safe house without further incident.

BOOK: Not a Good Day to Die
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