Home > Gulf War Diary > Destroy the Republican Guard
"Send in the First Team. Destroy the Republican Guard."
GEN H. Norman Schwarzkopf
The Mission: After Operation Deep Strike, our new mission was to join the VII Corps' destruction of the RGFC (Republican Guard Force Command) in the Basra Pocket. We were to accomplish this by moving west about 100 kilometers, passing through the First Infantry Division's breach, thrusting north to VII Corps' left flank, and, then, finally, attacking east toward Basra to complete the envelopment of the Republican Guard divisions.
2100 hours, 25 February 1991: After completing our withdrawal from Iraq, we moved south a few kilometers and went through a ROM (rearm/refuel on the move) site to replenish our fuel and ammunition. After refueling, we moved about 35 kilometers toward the Southwest to a staging area. I led the convoy for the battalion; once again, my GPS receiver was not tracking sufficient satellites to return a solution, so I used my dashboard compass and vehicle odometer to navigate. It was dark as hell, even with night vision goggles, so the convoy moved ahead extremely slowly. We closed into the staging area at about midnight, and, once there, we established security, and went to sleep.
0900 hours, 26 February 1991: The entire brigade lined up into a brigade "column of sixes" (six columns of vehicles lined up side by side), looking like a giant phalanx. At 1200 hours, we rolled out toward the west into the First Infantry Division's sector. As we rolled toward the breech site, I did not have much to do or think about, so I started imagining the worst; I began getting nervous again. I started thinking that the combat operations we had been on in the Ruqi Pocket were nothing compared to the battle we were about to get involved in; instead of fighting third string, demoralized Iraqi draftees equipped with obsolete weapons, we would now be fighting the highly vaunted Republican Guard in what would probably be the biggest tank battle since World War II. The Republican Guard troops were professional soldiers, battle-hardened by eight years of combat with Iran, equipped with state-of-the-art Soviet equipment. We were not getting much information about how VII Corps was doing at this time; this information void only fed the uncertainty, which fed the fear.
1900 hours, 26 February 1991: The first thing we did when we arrived at the breech site was to go through another ROM to ensure that all vehicles had a full tank of diesel before thrusting into Iraq. The ROM site was set up and run by the COSCOM (Corps Support Command), so all that we had to do was to line up, get fuel, and move out toward the passage lane. By the time we passed through the ROM, it was getting very dark. After getting fuel, the fuel handler wished me luck, and we staged to the entrance of passage lane "Kilo" to prepare for the forward passage of lines. Once all vehicles had completed refueling and we linked up with our passage lane guide, we rolled through the passage lane toward Iraq, being very careful to ensure that we did not stray from the passage lane into the adjacent minefields and obstacles.
0015 hours, 27 February 1991: It took us until shortly after midnight to traverse the entire length of the First Infantry Division breech site. After clearing passage lane Kilo, we closed on attack position "Blackjack," and changed our formation from column (our "admin" movement formation) to wedge (our tactical movement formation). Once the entire division was closed on Blackjack and had formed up into the wedge formation (the whole process took about 15 minutes), we moved out toward Objective Lee, our first objective, going like the hammers of hell. It was like a race track, everybody was going so fast. Our 20 year old M109 howitzers had a hard time keeping up with their swifter M1 Abrams and M2 Bradley cousins. One of my FDC tracks started having fuel injector problems; unable to keep up with the fast pace of the advance, it started falling behind. I had radio communications with the FDO, and told him to continue to press forward, and keep me informed of what was happening. I was concerned for their safety; there were a lot of ways that a lone M577 command post carrier could get in trouble in the Iraqi desert. They could run into bypassed Iraqi units, or be mistaken by follow -- on Allied forces as an Iraqi vehicle. Either way, they would be "dead meat." Fortunately, they managed to stay reasonably close to us.
0330 hours, 27 February 1991: We arrived at OBJ Lee, refueled, and got about 30 minutes of sleep. At 0530 hours, we resumed the march toward our next objective, OBJ Horse. Enroute to OBJ Horse, we ran into a fire fight between elements of the 2nd Armored Cavalry Regiment and the Iraqi Republican Guard Tawakalna Division. The 2nd ACR troopers were decimating their Iraqi opponents; we could see AH-1 Cobra attack helicopters pop up and launch TOWs at distant Iraqi targets, which would go up in an array of colorful secondary explosions. Not wanting to risk a fratricide incident, we stopped in place and awaited further instructions while our "higher-ups" established communications with the 2nd ACR. While we were waiting, I watched in amazement at soldiers casually standing on top on their tracked vehicles to take photographs of the engagement in a tourist-like fashion, totally oblivious to the carnage that was occurring. The word finally came down that the 2nd ACR had the engagement under control, and we moved around the fight to the west, and then headed due north.
1000 Hours, 27 February 1991: As we continued our march toward OBJ Horse, we were concerned mainly about running out of fuel. The supply lines extended back to Log Base "Echo" in Saudi Arabia, about 150 kilometers to our rear, and it was tough keeping our vehicles and HEMMT tankers full of enough fuel to sustain our attack into Iraq. After our last refueling at OBJ Lee, the Battalion XO and S-1 had taken the empty tankers back to a "LRP" (logistics resupply point) set up by the 1st Cav DISCOM (Division Support Command) to get them refilled. As we were approaching OBJ Horse, they were way overdue. Moreover, we could not talk to them on the radio. Everybody, especially the battalion commander, started getting extremely nervous; not only were we concerned about their safety, but we were also concerned about running out of fuel. The direct path between the LRP and OBJ Horse led straight through the engagement that we had just bypassed, and we were unable to get them on the radio to inform them of what was happening. I could only imagine what would happen if MAJ Currid, CPT Schrankel, and a couple of unarmed HEMMT tankers stumbled into that engagement. It would probably ruin their whole day, not to mention leave us without fuel.
1200 hours, 27 February 1991: We were finally able to get a hold of our fuel convoy and inform them of the 2ACR battle. They thanked us profusely, and drew a wide berth to the west around it. At 1300 hours, running on empty, we pulled into OBJ Horse. Just as we came to a stop, CPT Schrankel pulled up with the fuel HEMMTs, not a moment too soon. We fueled the vehicles up, pulled some quick preventive maintenance, ate a MRE, and prepared for our next mission, which was to turn and drive due east, and help the First Armored Division complete the destruction of the Iraqi Republican Guard Medina Division.
1500 hours, 27 February 1991: As we crossed the line of departure heading east toward Basra, Iraq, I thought, "here we go, this operation will separate the men from the boys." We were about to participate in the largest tank battle since World War II. As I gazed upon the brigade wedge formation, even I, hardened and cynical after four months in the desert, was struck by the awe of the combat power that I was part of. An armada of combat vehicles as far as the eye could see, arrayed across the desert floor, churning forward toward its destination, as unstoppable as a herd of enraged elephants. We passed a Bradley fighting vehicle transporting a group of Iraqi EPWs (enemy prisoners of war) back to the rear. As I looked at their demoralized, bewildered faces, I could not help but wonder what they must have thought about this sea of war vehicles thrusting toward their hapless brethren. We passed some Bedouin herdsmen, who looked at us nonchalantly. I felt good, since I still had all of my vehicles and people; no vehicle breakdowns, no combat losses. As we moved on toward Basra, the tension mounted. Finally, at 1900 hours, just after dusk, we came to an abrupt halt, about 40 kilometers southwest of Basra. I thought, "The shit's about to hit the fan." But we did nothing but sit there.
1900 hours, 27 February 1991: Finally, we were ordered to emplace, and set up a hasty defense. We had stumbled upon the tail end of the 1st Armored Division, and had units and vehicles intermixed in the dark with 1AD units. The Division and Corps commanders felt that it was prudent to halt the 1st Cav to avoid fratricide, and to wait until first light to commit us to the ongoing battle. The plan was this -- at first light, we would resume the attack around the 1st AD while the 1st AD fixed the Medina Division, and envelop the Iraqi unit from the northwest to prevent them from escaping back toward Basra. Once we were emplaced and security was out, I collapsed from exhaustion, dead tired after a 24 hour, 300 kilometer thrust into Iraq.
0500 hours, 28 February 1991: I awoke to the sounds of VII Corps and 1st AD Artillery units shooting a cannon and rocket prep, presumably to prepare for the attack scheduled for that morning. That immediately made me antsy; "why the hell aren't we shooting?!" I thought. I had the terrible feeling that my unit was "on it's ass," and might have possibly missed out on something. I immediately got on the radio and called the TOC, and asked the duty officer if we were supposed to be involved in any fire missions at that time. The duty officer seemed almost surprised by the question, and gave me a very curt "No." I shrugged my shoulders, and went about the business of making sure everybody in my battery was ready to go. Afterwards, I went back to my vehicle, popped open a MRE, and awaited further orders. At 0715 hours, I heard something over our command net about a cease fire, effective 0800 hours local (midnight Eastern Standard Time). I said to my driver, "what's this bullshit about a cease fire? Probably just another damn rumor."
0800 hours, 28 February 1991: LTC Knight, the battalion commander, made a
net call giving us the official word of the cease fire. I could hardly believe
it. I tuned into "Voice of America" on my short-wave radio and heard
the story. I was happy, of course, but had a somewhat empty feeling that we had
not quite finished the job. "Talk about an anticlimax," I thought.
