The sky is socked in with ‘shock and awe.’ NO JUMP TONIGHT! (Mar. 27, 2003)

 

Listen up! The channel coast is socked in with rain and fog. High winds in the drop zone. NO JUMP TONIGHT. The invasion has been postponed. We’re on a 24-hour stand-down.

Scratch.

The mission we had been rehearsing for over a month just got scratched. To get “scratched” is airborne parlance for cancelled. Our entire mission was cancelled. Hearts were broken, especially mine. I wanted that rarest of awards, the tiny yellow star, the infamous ‘mustard stain’ – the combat jump device – affixed to my parachutist badge. That award required just about no talent or work. You simply had to be at the right place at the right time, like World War II, Grenada, or Panama.

With our mission cancelled, we waited in Kuwait, dodging scuds, playing dodgeball, sitting on cots listening to the BBC while the rest of military stormed towards Baghdad. Things were moving quickly, and the fear shifted from going to war to missing it completely.

Then, finally, we received a new mission. We would parachute into an open field outside of a small city called Samawah and secure the city to allow supplies to move forward to support the main elements pushing towards Baghdad. Elements of the Fedayeen Saddam were conducting ambushes along Highway 8 which passed through Samawah.

When my squad leader pointed out the city and tentative drop zone I beamed. The Baghdad jump was seeming like it’d be a bloodbath. Plus, it would probably be a hard pavement landing – ouch. Now we were looking at a landing in the desert and an assault on a much smaller city ‘garrisoned’ by a rag tag militia of fake ninjas.

We spent the 27th tearing down our camp and packing up our bags neatly on palettes. We got into lines and did a lot of sitting. Some of the guys in our platoon started writing quotes, prayers, missives, and plain nonsense on their t-shirts. Eventually someone from BN headquarters saw it and yelled at them, putting an end to it.

We waited for nightfall.

When it came, we sat and waited more.

Eventually we were told that we were on a 24 hour stand down. The skies were saturated with cruise missiles and someone was afraid we’d be knocked out of the air.

We scurried back into empty tents and found spots on the floor and slept. Our war wouldn’t start today.

To the chagrin of the 82nd, the 173rd jumps into Iraq (Mar. 26, 2003)

A photo from the morning of the jump. This photo became one of the iconic images of the war. I’ve seen it used a lot in ‘remembrance’ photos, probably because it looks like the guy is kneeling in order to honor the fallen. In reality, the guy is sucking. He’s carrying a lot of gear and his life sucks right now. He’s happy he got his mustard stain, but thinks the whole thing was a little ridiculous. And he’s muddy and has no idea when he’ll get an opportunity to clean his clothes. Also, some photographer is taking a photo of him kneeling in the field – on this, his first few hours in war.

I remember my eyes slowly opening early this morning in Kuwait. The war had been on for almost a week now and we still haven’t been put in. Bright fluorescent lights were and I was squinting to adjust my eyes. The entire platoon was going through the morning routine, which always begins with feeling sorry for yourself for a few minutes before peeling yourself off of the cot.

My platoon sergeant rolled off of his cot and immediately turned on his crank radio to the BBC, catching the headline news at the top of the hour. We all stopped and listened, tuning our ears in, paratroopers listening more intently the news than they ever will again in their entire lives. In the fanciest British accent:

“Paratroopers of the 173rd Airborne Brigade parachuted into Northern Iraq today, seizing a military airfield and opening the northern front of the war.”

We didn’t hear anything else after that, because the entire tent exploded in anger and grumbling.

This was some complete bullshit, we thought.

(I wrote about this event in a little more detail here)

French paratroopers earn their mustard stains in Mali

Lots of action going on in Mali. Here’s the story behind the jump.

The ‘combat jump device‘ is one of the rarest awards in the US military. Right place, right time. I almost got one (not really).

I’m not sure if there is an equivalent award for the French. If anyone knows if they get any special recognition for participating in a combat jump, I’d love to know about it.