The actions of 18 truckers from the National Guard 343d Quartermaster Company in Tallil, Iraq have renewed debate on a host of unrelated, politico—military  issues.  The relatives of the soldiers provide ammo to the left about the supposed scared nature of National Guard units.  That is, it's OK to be in the Guard, draw the drill pay, just don't send them overseas to do their job.

The truckers have made statements that their vehicles were broken down and unsafe, that the fuel they were carrying was contaminated, and that their commanders were not addressing these problems.  Jed Babbin in the NRO today has an excellent article summing up the situation, and he is corrrect that the Army shouldn't go soft on these malcontents or their commanders.

One of the most mind—boggling comments from these so—called soldiers is that conducting the re—supply operation would amount to going on a 'suicide mission.'  It would behoove these men and women, and their relatives, to read about what the duties of a soldier entail, even though they are just truck drivers.  They don't seem to realize that the lives of their fellow soldiers are at stake if they fail in their mission.  No better example exists than in the account of the Battle of Baghdad in 2003.

David Zucchino and Mark Bowden have written a stunning book, The Thunder Run: The Armored Strike to Capture Baghdad.  Several sites host the original article by Zucchino describing this critical engagement.  American Thinker readers are encouraged to read the entire account, but for the benefit of the 18 truckers and their relatives, I've excerpted passages that show what we expect from our supply troops, and how they courageously delivered in the face of a determined enemy.  The members of the 343d have no idea what a suicide mission is; hopefully, they'll understand if any of them read these excerpts.

Intense fighting was underway at three vital intersections in the Iraqi capital after elements of the 2d Brigade of the 3d Infantry Division (Mechanized) had conducted a series of armored thunder runs to seize Baghdad by speed and audacious maneuver.  The combat units in the city were running dangerously low on fuel and ammo while under continuing attack from fanatical Saddam Feyadeen.  Lt. Col. Stephen Twitty's battalion was charged with keeping the main supply route open on Highway 8.  We pick up the story where Lt. Col. Twitty had to assess the situation and make the painful decision to send a supply convoy into the middle of the battle initially unescorted.

Even after Twitty received reinforcements, tying up the brigade's only reserve force, his men had to be resupplied. But the resupply convoy was ambushed on Highway 8; two sergeants were killed and five fuel and ammunition trucks were destroyed. The highway was a shooting gallery. If Perkins lost the roadway, he and his men would be trapped in the city without fuel or ammunition.

Twitty had to get the supply convoy to the interchanges, a dangerous endeavor. The fuel tankers were 2,500—gallon bombs on wheels. The ammunition trucks were portable fireworks factories. In military argot, they were the ultimate "soft—skin" vehicles. Worse, there were no tanks or Bradleys to escort them; they were all fighting in the city or at the three interchanges.

Just north of the burning operations center, Capt. J.O. Bailey was in a command armored personnel carrier, leading the supply convoy—six fuel tankers and eight ammunition trucks. He felt vulnerable; he had no idea where he was going to park all his combustible vehicles in the middle of a firefight.

The convoy had gone less than a mile when Bailey spotted a mob of about 100 armed men across railroad tracks. He was on the radio, warning everyone, when the convoy was rocked by explosions.

Near the head of the convoy, Sgt. 1st Class John W. Marshall opened up with a grenade launcher in the turret of his soft—skin Humvee. Marshall was 50—one of the oldest men in the brigade—and had volunteered for Iraq. Marshall had just sent grenades crashing toward the gunmen when the top of the Humvee exploded. In the front seat, Spc. Kenneth Krofta was stunned by a flash of light. Black smoke was blowing through the Humvee. Krofta looked up into the turret. Marshall was gone. He had been blown out of the vehicle by a grenade blast.

The driver, Pfc. Angel Cruz, stopped and got out, looking for Marshall. He saw gunmen approaching and squeezed off a burst from his rifle. Bullets ripped into the Humvee.

The radio squawked. Cruz was ordered to move out. Soldiers in another vehicle had seen Marshall's body. He was dead. The convoy was speeding up, trying to escape the kill zone. A week would pass before the battalion was able to retrieve Marshall's corpse.

As the convoy raced through the ambush, an RPG rocketed into a personnel carrier. Staff Sgt. Robert Stever, who had just fired more than 1,000 rounds from his .50—caliber machine gun, was blown back into the vehicle, killed instantly. Shrapnel tore into Chief Warrant Officer Angel Acevedo and Pfc. Jarred Metz, wounding both.

Metz was knocked from the driver's perch. His legs were numb and blood was seeping through his uniform. He dragged himself back into position and kept the vehicle moving. Acevedo was bleeding, too. Screaming instructions to Metz, he directed the vehicle back into the speeding column with Stever's body slumped inside.

Riddled with shrapnel, the convoy limped into the interchange at Curly—and directly into the firefight. Bailey was trying to move his convoy out of harm's way when something slammed into a fuel tanker. The vehicle exploded. Hunks of the tanker flew off, forming super—heated projectiles that tore into other vehicles. Three ammunition trucks and a second fuel tanker exploded. Ammunition started to cook off. Rounds screamed in all directions, ripping off chunks of concrete and slicing through vehicles. The trucks were engulfed in orange fireballs.

Mechanics and drivers sprinted for the vehicles that were intact. They cranked up the engines and drove them to safety beneath the overpass, managing to save five ammunition trucks and four fuel tankers—enough to resupply the combat teams at all three intersections.

Fuel and ammunition were unloaded under fire. The surviving vehicles headed north to Objective Larry, escorted by Bradleys, breaking through the firefight there and arriving safely.

Thank God these truckers gave their all.  If not, a prolonged siege may have been required to seize Baghdad resulting in far more US casualties.  I hope the 'refuseniks' of the 343d are happy with themselves.

Doug Hanson   10 19 04