A Fresh Start EpilogueChapter 4 Captain Buckman
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A Fresh Start - EpilogueChapter 5: Colonel Buckman free porn video
Barzani added, “Major Naftani will be your second in command. He is very good and has been to America for training.”
I had gone stock still at hearing this. “I don’t understand! I’m not even Kurdish and can barely speak the language! I’m not even in your Army!”
Hafez and Naftani smiled, and Barzani laughed. “Let me explain,” he said. “This is purely political. Both General Hafez and I want you to be seen actively working with the Kurdish Army and supporting us, but we also want it to be seen that we appreciate any American support. This will be seen outside of this country and will bring additional pressure on your President Clinton to shut down Assad and his murderous generals. Major Naftani will handle the routine functioning of the battalion, and the day you leave, he will become Lieutenant Colonel Naftani.”
“This is unbelievable!” I said, as much to myself as to the others.
Major Naftani stepped forward and offered his hand. “Colonel Buckman, I look forward to serving under you. This should be interesting, for both of us.” His English was impeccable; though he spoke with a definite accent, he was perfectly understandable.
I shook his hand automatically, even though my mind was on remote control at that moment. “Major, I think that will be quite the understatement. You have experience with artillery?”
“Yes, sir, considerable. As a captain I served here in the 1st Artillery, as a battery commander and operations officer. Then I was sent to America for schooling with your Army.”
“The Command and General Staff College?”
“Yes, sir. I did eight months at Leavenworth, and another two months at Sill after that.”
“Hell, you’re more qualified to run this than I am!”
“Perhaps, but I understand and support the reasons General Hafez and President Barzani are doing this. Besides, do not underestimate what you are doing. I have spoken to the other officers in the 1st Artillery, and they consider you a good choice as a commander. They reported that you took over the battalion following the attack and have salvaged what could have been a disaster,” he replied.
“They did? I was just making some suggestions,” I replied.
“As far as your being a foreigner, I seem to recall learning in America about some officers under your General Washington who weren’t American. Von Steuben and Kosciuszko come to mind, for instance,” he added. “Tell me, Colonel, your assessment of your officers here, at least your senior officers?” Naftani asked the question, but I noted Hafez and Barzani eyeing me curiously.
“Probably about the same as yours. Murad and Ali are perfectly good battery commanders and I have seen them in command. I don’t really know Lieutenant Rasif, but Captain Failly was quite good, and I don’t think he would have put up with Rasif if he was an idiot. Lieutenant Qasim...” Here I stopped and smiled. “Lieutenant Qasim will probably be very good, but right now he is very junior and very nervous. Some proper guidance and support will be helpful.”
Naftani smiled and looked at the others. “Those are my assessments also. General, Mister President, I feel quite comfortable working under Colonel Buckman. I expect I will be learning much from him.”
“Then it is settled. Colonel, you and the major should get settled in. I will expect you both at a staff meeting in Mosul tomorrow. We will be planning a new offensive,” ordered Hafez.
Both Naftani and I came to attention and saluted, which Hafez returned, and then he left with Barzani. I was suddenly struck with the realization that I was back in the Army for real and had probably just pissed away my American citizenship. For some damn reason, I just didn’t care.
When we got back to the command tent, the battery commanders were all present. Their response was amusing. The two captains and Lieutenant Rasif were surprised but Lieutenant Qasim looked relieved! I allowed Naftani to make the announcement, and he left out any mention of his being anything more than the loyal exec. I was to be the commander, not just a figurehead. After that he asked for an assessment of the condition of all three firing batteries, just as a real exec would request, and told Qasim that for the time being, he, Naftani, would command the headquarters battery. At the end he announced that he would be with the Colonel (me!) the next day for a staff meeting. Then he closed with, “Any questions?”
Murad shrugged and said, “If the Colonel is part of the Army, shouldn’t he get the right uniforms?”
That generated a number of smiles, and Naftani turned to Lieutenant Qasim and said, “I think that would be a job for the second in command of the headquarters battery, hmmm?”
“Yes, sir, I can get that done.”
I turned to Ahmed, who had been trailing me around through all of this. “If you know where that bloody uniform of mine is, maybe we can salvage some of the badges and whatnot.”
“Yes, Colonel, and let me congratulate you. Thank you very much for what you are doing for my country!” he answered. The others all joined in and shook my hand as well.
I spent the rest of the day working with Naftani to make sure the 1 st Artillery was up and running, and then traveled by myself to each of the batteries to talk to the battery commanders and see their condition for myself. If Naftani and Hafez wanted me to act like a battalion commander, then I needed to act like one, and not like a stooge for somebody else. I didn’t catch any grief from anybody, and it looked like we would be back in business tomorrow as scheduled.
What that would entail was not obvious, however. The Kurdish Army seemed to be gearing up, but it wasn’t clear for what, and Naftani didn’t know, either. He and I went to Mosul at the crack of dawn the next day, with a pair of Kurdish noncoms driving and acting as assistants. It was my first day in my new uniform, which was a set of pressed Kurdish green fatigues, with both my new rank badges (three silver stars on each epaulet, not one eagle as was the American custom) and my American qualifications (master jump wings, etc.) as well. Ahmed and Qasim had managed to salvage the badges off my bloody DCU, and Naftani seemed to think it was a good mix. As we drove over to Mosul, about a two-hour drive in our recycled Russian ‘Jeep,’ Naftani and I talked about the battalion and about his experiences in America. While I was certainly familiar enough with Fort Sill, I had never been to Fort Leavenworth, and he told me what CGS had been like, and we talked about American and Kurdish differences.
The staff meeting proved quite interesting, as in the Chinese curse, ‘May you live in interesting times.’ I was introduced to many other colonels and lieutenant colonels, and it was immediately obvious that the meeting concerned the offensive units of the Kurdish Army. The Kurdish Army, the Peshmerga, numbered roughly 100,000 troops, and most of them were assigned to eight Motorized Infantry divisions, which were on the various borders. These units were about 10,000 strong, and were mostly armed with small weapons, mortars, machine guns, and anti-tank missiles, with trucks as the transport. In normal times, one faced Turkey, three faced Iran, three faced Iraq, and one faced Syria. These divisions were defensively oriented. The Peshmerga offense was limited to what they called their ‘Saladin Brigade’, which consisted of their 1st Armored Battalion, the 1st and 2nd Mechanized Infantry Battalions, the 1st Artillery Battalion, and a few motorized infantry battalions. Calling them a mechanized brigade was what I considered a stretch, but they were the strongest offensive unit in the Kurdish army, and probably stronger than any equivalent-sized unit in the Syrian, Iraqi, or Iranian armies. It was these officers of the Saladin Brigade who were present at the staff meeting.
FYI - Saladin was probably the most famous Kurdish general ever born. His real name was Salah ad-Din Yusuf ibn Ayyub and he lived about 900 years ago. He was the guy who kicked the Crusaders out of the Holy Land, and then conquered Egypt, Syria, Iraq, Kurdistan, and a few other sundry places before founding the Ayyubid Dynasty. Very capable fellow, indeed!
But not to digress. Leading the staff meeting was General Hafez, the Peshmerga commander, and President Barzani. It was Barzani who started off the meeting. Put simply, the Syrian Kurdish Union Party had declared independence from Syria and was requesting recognition and assistance from the Republic of Kurdistan. Barzani was meeting with his ministers, but the feeling was that recognition was almost a certainty, and the Saladin Brigade was going to be the military assistance. The Kurds were going to war!
I sat back on hearing this and looked at a few of the others. I only found excitement on the faces of the juniors there. The older and wiser commanders simply had looks of stoic acceptance. This could blow up in their faces, and they knew it. Regardless, they were professionals, so they would obey orders. For my part I was wondering if this was madness or brilliance. Man for man and tank for tank, the Kurds were the equal or better than the Syrians, perhaps much better. On the other hand, calling the Saladin Brigade a heavy brigade was stretching things mightily, and they might be just strong enough to go into Syria but not strong enough to get back out. This could damn well be the Charge of the Light Brigade, Kurdish style!
After that, Barzani left, and it became purely an army affair. First off was an assessment of current Kurdish positions throughout the country. Several divisions had been pulled away from the Iranian and Iraqi borders and were now reinforcing the Syrian border, putting almost half the Kurdish strength facing Syria. In addition, the units of the Saladin Brigade were maneuvering into position near the southern end of the border, just southwest of Sinjar. The 1st Artillery was currently north of there, where we had been hit the other day, and we were ordered to move south immediately and link up with the rest of the brigade. I looked at Naftani and he looked back and nodded.
Inside Syria, we were getting good intelligence, both from People’s Protection Units and the Peshmerga cadre inserted into them, and from reconnaissance provided by American drone units operated by the 47 th. As it currently stood, Syrian forces were on the southern outskirts of al Hasaka and were pounding Syrian Kurdish positions in the city itself. Syrian forces consisted of a small armored battalion and a somewhat larger infantry battalion, with a few artillery batteries in support. On the plus side, the Syrian Army itself was in severe upheaval; units were under strength and suffered from desertion and poor morale.
D-Day was scheduled for three days from now. The Saladin Brigade’s Chief of Staff outlined the planned line of attack, which involved crossing the border south of Sinjar on the existing road network, crossing the al Khabur River south of the Nahr al Khabur dam, and then turning northwards and moving up the west side of the reservoir and attacking the Syrian positions from the rear. It was an audacious plan. The distances were not all that great, maybe 150 miles, normally a peaceful three- to four-hour drive. How peaceful this would actually be was somewhat debatable. The 1st Artillery had smashed several Syrian units in the border area, and the Syrian Kurd units in the area would be escorting us and warning us of any Syrian response. If things went perfectly, we would be able to make a surprise attack on the Syrian positions from the rear and crush them. If the Syrians figured it out, they might be able to swing around from the al Hasaka position and orient to defend against the Saladin Brigade, which would then be attacking prepared positions without adequate strength. In a really bad scenario, other Syrian units would swing in behind the Peshmerga, trapping them inside enemy territory. Suicide would be preferable to what the Syrians would do to the Kurds then!
Once we were in an attack position south of the Syrians at al Hasaka, the Chief of Staff outlined the battle plan. The 1st Mechanized Infantry, along with a motorized infantry battalion, would attack the Syrian infantry positions. Meanwhile, the 1st Armored and the 2nd Mechanized Infantry would skirt the Syrian infantry positions and assault the Syrian armored units. The 1st Artillery would be providing support fires and would be screened by the 24th and 34 th Motorized Infantry Battalions, the same units who had been with us during our run along the border. The plan made sense, as far as I could see, although I sure hoped the Syrians didn’t figure out what we were up to until it was too late. One of the big issues would be getting supplies to us. Our supply lines would depend on the Syrian Kurdish units protecting them.
Naftani looked as if he was following this at least as well as I was, and considering he was a hell of a lot more current than I was, he probably had a better feel than I did. I was planning on discussing this with him as soon as the meeting was over. One of the more surprising moments came at the end of the staff meeting. General Talamani, the Saladin Brigade’s commander, asked, “Colonel Buckman, you are undoubtedly looking at this with some different experience. What are your thoughts on the proposed plan?”
My first thought was, ‘Get me the hell back where it was safe!’, but, no, I didn’t say that. Nothing about any of this was safe. I nodded and slowly stood up, and then went to the podium, and pulled Major Naftani along with me to act as an interpreter. I might not have been in the Army at the time, but I had certainly become familiar with our operations during Desert Shield, Desert Storm, Kurdish Dawn, and Kurdish Dragon. “Thank you, General Talamani. I do have a few thoughts. First and foremost is the need to do this fast - fast and violent. One of our greatest generals, General Patton, once said that a good plan violently executed now is better than a perfect plan executed next week. If we are going to do this, it must be go, go, go! Do not wait for anybody! If somebody breaks down, push them out of the way and go! Don’t let the Syrians get ready for you. Hit them and hit them hard! Speed and violence!”
There were a lot of smiles and nods at this, since it went well with their plans. Then I added a few other small items. “Add another infantry battalion or two to act as convoy escorts for your supply runs. Once the Syrians are dislodged, we should bring future supplies in north of the reservoir, through Al Qamishli and down, so the Syrians can’t hit them in the flank.” That made the Chief of Staff sit up, and he wrote a few notes down. “Then there’s just a few little things. Load up on Kurdish flags and fly them on every vehicle you have! It’s good for morale, and it lets the locals know we are the good guys. That and load up on some candy for little kids and food for everybody. We can organize relief convoys afterwards through Kurdistan and Turkey.” The Chief of Staff kept taking notes, and a few of the other commanders tossed out some similar ideas.
There were some more orders after that, and then we broke up and headed back to our unit commands. Explicitly stated was the need for absolute secrecy and security. If any word of this leaked out, the Saladin Brigade would be marching to their deaths! Our deaths, I amended silently. Naftani and I simply gave orders to prep all the vehicles and load up as much ammo and supplies as we could carry, and to maneuver so that when the order was given, we could move out immediately. We didn’t even tell the battery commanders what was happening.
I wondered what was happening at the 47th. They had to know something was up. We were emptying warehouses and making preparations that couldn’t be explained by any other reason. If they wanted us shut down, all they needed to do was make the information public. They didn’t even have to get their fingers dirty; a phone call back to the Pentagon and then on to the White House would be enough for a complete disclosure on the evening news!
On Tuesday, July 1, we crossed the border into Syria before dawn. It was my 36th wedding anniversary. I just prayed it wouldn’t be my last. I figured we were either going to destroy the Syrians by mid-afternoon or be dead by nightfall. As a combat support unit, we followed immediately after the armored and mechanized units, and the word throughout the column was speed! Our final position was to be northwest of the Nahr al Khabur Reservoir, from which we would be able to fire in support of the two-pronged assault on the Syrian positions. We were following the assault units, and once we were in position, we were to immediately deploy and set up; by the time we finished setting up, the assault would be starting!
Once we crossed the border, we picked up guides from the Syrian Kurdish People’s Protection Units and continued. They had not been informed of our plans but had simply been instructed to show up with local road maps and people who knew the area. We hadn’t even given them a date, just told them to be in position. I was riding in a Russian command track with Ahmed, who was nervous but game. I spent some time joking with him about how if anything happened, it would probably happen so fast we wouldn’t even know it had happened.
And then it went fast. We were in position by 0957, and I ordered the batteries to deploy. Fifteen minutes later we began getting fire orders from the assault units, and the fire direction center got busy. Major Naftani ran that, while I was on the radio coordinating alternate firing locations and overall battalion command. We were using shoot-and-scoot tactics, but when we scooted, we were going to scoot forward, towards the front lines. If the assault units were moving forward, we didn’t want them to outdistance their fire support. As always, the watchwords were speed and violence! If things went well, the Syrians were going to get a case of Kurdish shock and awe!
Wellington said after Waterloo that the only thing worse than a battle won is a battle lost. We didn’t lose, but there was plenty of carnage regardless. The Syrians were extremely surprised and unhappy when the Peshmerga showed up in their rear. We had managed a major surprise attack. That does not mean it was pain free on the Kurdish part. At least one company of Syrian T-72 tanks was able to break free and try to screen the Syrian armor during a hasty retreat. They were destroyed, but not before wiping out a platoon of Kurdish armor and some Kurdish BMPs. We also had some infantry losses. Syrian losses were almost total! What the Kurds didn’t destroy, the Syrian Kurds hunted down and slaughtered. Meanwhile the entire area was getting trashed. At that point we reoriented towards the southwest because there was going to be a counterattack. That happened mid-afternoon, when a flight of MiG-23s attacked; we knocked down about half, and they managed to hit one of our infantry units.
We had a couple of days to rest and rebuild at that point. Most combat losses in equipment are actually mechanical losses, thrown tracks and busted suspensions and the like, and they can generally be fixed within twenty-four to forty-eight hours. Humans, the soldiers, take a lot longer to rebuild. Regardless, the Saladin Brigade was back up to strength by Thursday. Meanwhile, two divisions worth of Peshmerga motorized infantry poured over the Kurdish border and took up defensive positions facing the Syrian Army. Syrian Kurdistan was a roughly triangular hunk of Syria in the northeast corner of the country, bounded on the north by Turkey and in the east by Kurdistan. The border between the Arab areas and the Kurdish area was relatively fluid, but the Kurds took up positions and let civilian traffic through.
One interesting effect was that in the long run, the Kurdish military would be able to rebuild their armored forces from the spoils of war. Armored vehicles, for all their awesome power, are surprisingly fragile. To kill an enemy tank or armored infantry vehicle, you don’t have to blow it up. If you throw a track, or get a bogie wheel shot up, or take a round in the engine compartment, you are just as dead as if you took a round to the ammo compartment and fireballed a hundred feet into the air! If you win the battle, you can go back in afterwards with some tank recovery vehicles and pull your tracks back to the repair depot. However, if you lose the battle, you have lost your vehicles, and the other side gets what are known as ‘the spoils of war.’ In this case, the captured vehicles, many of which could be repaired, would be hauled back to Kurdistan for repair and upgrade to Kurdish standards.
Any number of small Syrian units, between 1,000 and 2,000 soldiers, found themselves trapped behind enemy lines and surrounded by some very angry Syrian Kurds. The smarter ones broke out and headed north, to the Turkish border, where they surrendered to the Turks and asked to be interned. The next smarter ones hunkered down and asked to surrender to Kurdish units, the Peshmerga. The Kurds didn’t like the Syrians, but they were disciplined enough to keep the Syrians safe. Choice Number Three was to surrender to the Syrian Kurds, the people the Syrians had been trying to kill for the last year. This was considered a really bad idea, since the locals wanted to string them up by their balls, and that’s not an exaggeration. Number Three was a very unhealthy choice for the Syrians.
Once we broke the assault on al Hasaka and smashed the Syrian units there, supplies came rumbling down from the northern part of the Kurdish border, through al Qamishli. Also pouring in - reporters! Some of them were the routine foreign and war correspondents who flew to misery like honeybees heading to pollen and nectar. They would stick around until some other place more miserable cropped up. Then there were more senior network correspondents and their camera crews flocking to broadcast from a new nation, Syrian Kurdistan. They would be gone as soon as humanly possible. Finally, though, there was a whole bunch interested in one thing and one thing only, the ex-American President openly defying the current President, and getting away with it. I was sure that Barzani was fanning the flames to get Hillary to do something, anything, to end this mess.
That was the critical thing, of course, to ending this. The only way this was going to stop was if somebody made Assad stop. The Kurds weren’t going to do it, not by themselves. They needed to shut down the Syrian Air Force for one thing, and SAM missiles were not going to do that. No, we needed long-distance attack missiles and follow-up bombing to crater runways and destroy bunkers. Syrian attack helicopters needed to be targeted, too, along with weapons bunkers. Without his air power, Assad wasn’t going to be able to destroy at a distance with impunity. He could still kill people, but it would require his dwindling army to have to go into direct combat with the rebels and the Kurdish Army, and it is a whole lot easier to kill people who aren’t fighting back. So far, the Saladin Brigade and the rest of the Peshmerga were able to stand up to his forces. It wasn’t fun, but we were holding.
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