M1A1 tank crews were just left behind and stranded
Sharon Schmickle, Star Tribune
Published April 1, 2003
CAMP VIPER, IRAQ -- Learning on Sunday that they had been considered missing in action was only the latest nightmare for eight Marines whose M1A1 Abrams tanks broke down in the Iraqi desert and lost contact with U.S. forces.
On Monday, for the first time, the Marines told the story of their 11-day ordeal that began on March 20, when the United States invaded Iraq from Kuwait. The Marines' 2nd Tank Battalion was in the first wave of U.S. forces.
One of the first tanks to rumble onto Iraqi sand was the Gabriel, named for the angel who in Christianity told Mary that she would give birth to Jesus, and in Islam delivered the word of God to the Prophet Mohammed.
The Gabriel's crew of four expected no enemy opposition, but the laser range finder -- or "the video game," as the crew calls it -- showed another tank.
"We waited for a positive ID," said Cpl. Ben Webster of Columbus, Ohio, the Gabriel's gunner. "It was an Iraqi T-54 [tank]. We killed it, popped the turret clean off it. . . . There was no remorse, no feeling of elation, no nothing."
They took some rifle fire from Iraqi fighters posing as camel herders, nothing serious for a tank. Then came their downfall. Anticipating tanks, the Iraqis had dug an 8-foot deep trap on the route, and the 67-ton Gabriel went into it nose down.
U.S. and British forces have dubbed the Iraqi fighters "floppies," a reference to the sandals or flip-flops many wear to disguise themselves as civilians. But there is nothing "floppy" about Iraqi military tactics, Webster said.
"These guys are pretty smart," he said. "They use techniques that are so antiquated, but so effective."
The Gabriel wasn't stuck. It was broken. An arm that helps maintain tension on the tank's wheel track was shot.
The Marines knew the rest of their unit had pushed forward, leaving the Gabriel behind. What they didn't know was that they had company a couple of miles to the north.
Another U.S. tank, nicknamed the Intimidator, had double trouble. It had started with a finicky fuel sensor that gave out entirely, and it had a break in one of the rollers that connect with the track.
There was no way to inspect the damage, let alone fix it, because the Intimidator was taking heavy artillery fire.
"I didn't sleep at all that night," said Lance Cpl. Michael Holmes of Miami. "I stayed up in the gunner's hole all night."
At one point Holmes spotted a tank he knew did not belong to U.S. forces. He asked another crew member to take a look with night vision goggles. It wasn't one tank. It was 13 -- all in a position to blast the Intimidator.
"The only thing that saved us was one man," Holmes said. "The tanks were British, and they were waiting for their commanding officer to give the authorization to fire. He knew enough about American tanks to recognize us."
The British rolled north, expecting a recovery unit to rescue the inoperative U.S. tanks. The crews expected the same, but it didn't happen. Instead, the Marines saw a barrage of attacks from U.S. aircraft. They credit the Stars and Stripes flying on the Gabriel with saving them from friendly fire.
Officers with the Marines' units could not be reached Monday for comment on why the crews weren't rescued.
On the second day after the breakdowns, the tankers lost radio contact with their units. Radio codes are routinely changed to avoid interception, and only technicians with special clearance know how to adjust the equipment to fit the new codes.
In the Gabriel, Webster went to sleep that night "trying to imagine how we were going to fix this thing."
The next morning, the crew went to work with rope, communications wire and duct tape.
When the Gabriel was rolling, after a fashion, it came upon the Intimidator.
"We made a pact before we moved that we were not leaving each other behind," Webster said. "That old saying, 'Marines don't leave Marines behind,' was real for us."
Shifting sand had covered the tracks their units had made on their race north, so they had no clear route to follow to catch up.
So, using a global positioning device, they headed north. They passed Bedouin shepherds, and eventually an Iraqi boy who seemed terrified of the tanks but eagerly scooped up the Meal Ready to Eat they tossed to him.
By the fourth day after the breakdown, they were out of water and low on food and fuel.
"Suddenly, a little moped dirt bike came speeding out of nowhere," Webster said. "We knew for sure it was British."
A British air-naval unit was camped nearby. For three days, the Marines helped guard the camp while British mechanics patched their tanks and resupplied them.
It wasn't a cure, but it was effective enough to keep them rolling.
On the road again, they traveled with a British convoy of the 216th Airborne Assault Brigade. On Sunday, the tanks limped in to a repair station at Camp Viper. The Marines learned that they had been listed as MIAs.
Before they said goodbye to the Brits, they did one more thing. They renamed the Intimidator the USA/UK.
"I even grew to like tea," Webster said.
After their tank was damaged, the British rolled past, expecting
a recovery unit to rescue the inoperative U.S. tanks. The crews
expected the same, but it didn't happen. Instead, the Marines
saw a barrage of attacks from U.S. aircraft. They credit the Stars
and Stripes flying on the Gabriel with saving them from friendly fire.
