Diyala Offensive Part Two: The Ghosts in the Canals

 
A paradox of the latest joint-American and Iraqi offensive into the rural plains of southern Diyala province launched nearly two weeks ago was that even though one could see for miles in every direction, the enemy was nowhere to been seen. Still, their presence was felt every day.

"It's like trying to push through water," said Staff Sergeant Brian Keller, one of Bravo Company's platoon sergeants.  "You push straight ahead, and it just comes back at you from the sides."

By the end of the offensive's first week the U.S. Army lost more than thirty vehicles to roadside bombs, nearly a third of which hit the assault's first convoys to the area (note: embed rules prohibit the use of exact numbers for vehicle losses).  Each day, as news of the bombings came in over the radio at Bravo Company 1-6's patrol base, soldiers tried to piece together what was happening in their small area of operations: how long had these explosives been in the area?  Were they planted months or years ago?  Was some unknown group currently planting fresh mines in the middle of the night just a few hundred yards from American patrol bases?

Ask two different soldiers and you'd get two different answers, but the fact remained that no matter when the bombs were set, they were going off at an alarming rate.  And, if the bombs were new, commanders understood there was really only one area to focus on to prevent further infiltrations: the canals.

Crisscrossing the dried-up fields around U.S. Army positions, the canals once supplied a steady supply of water to the area. Today they are no more than endless trenches, some nearly 30-feet deep and 30-feet wide–perfect for concealing an enemy's movement through a land with few trees and no hills.

Every the soldiers of Bravo Company lugged jugs of gasoline and incendiary grenades to the canals, burning miles of the dry reeds that lined and hid the floors of these canals. As the canals burned and soldiers fanned further across the countryside, another sign of the enemy's presence revealed itself: small stores of weapons hidden in natural holes made in the terrain's dried mud.  There were mortar and artillery shells, rocket propelled grenades, assault rifles, machine gun ammunition, and anti-personnel mines.

Still, the enemy continued to hide, and the roadside bombs continued to explode.  Soldiers were treated for concussions and internal bleeding. "We have a full spectrum of tools to use from lethal to non-lethal right now," Captain Russell Wagner said of his unit's eventual focus of befriending local villagers, rather than combating roadside bombs.  "But, none of that can happen until we get this security situation under control.  There's a thousand different ways we can use the lessons we've learned in the last five years of war, but [these bombings] have got to stop.  We're not a bunch of farmers; we're in control of our own destiny."

Wagner ordered daily patrols such as the one lead by Bravo's second platoon commander Lieutenant Brian McDonald on a recent morning through a canal near the company's headquarters. The mission, as usual, was twofold: burn any vegetation in the canals to prevent hiding spots for the enemy, and search for weapons caches similar to those found on previous days.

Moments before second platoon arrived at the designated canal, a report was transmitted over the company radio from another Bravo Company element on patrol that day. The soldiers had just come upon the dead bodies of three sheep, killed by an anti-personnel mine. The animal closest to the blast was nearly cut in half.  

Meanwhile second platoon made its way along the canal's ridges at a methodical pace.  Every few steps they prodded the earth for hidden holes with the toes of their boots.  They kicked rocks and tossed away brush. Trailing behind those soldiers was another team sprinkling gas into the canal and tossing an incendiary grenade that shot out white hot sparks setting the vegetation on fire.

Eventually a soldier noticed a thick metal cable hanging into the canal.  At one end, a metal sheet anchored the cable, and beside it one could see the faint outline of crude stairs dug into the canal wall. "Looks like someone's been playing around down here," said Lieutenant McDonald.

The cable looked like it had snapped at one end, but it was still strong and securely fixed to the anchor.  It was, a number of soldiers agreed, probably used to hoist a bicycle or motorcycle in and out of the canal–a means of transportation for the enemy that would allow him to get around unseen from the ground level.

"You could drive a car through here, or even a truck, and we'd never see it," said Captain Wagner, who accompanied the patrol that day.

It was another small clue found in the Diyala countryside that someone was out there moving around in secret, and quite possibly, planting bombs and ferrying munitions.

Reflecting on the enemy's reluctance to attack U.S. forces through the use of small arms fire, most soldiers deemed this a cowardly act.  Captain Wagner, and his immediate superior Lieutenant Colonel Rich Morales both used the phrase "all the dumb ones are dead," to describe the nature of this more nuanced and carefully planned flight.

As the two-week-mark of the operation approaches, there has yet to be an extended firefight between U.S. forces and the enemy presumably still traversing the area via canals.  This is a far cry from the extended violence coalition forces have encountered throughout the preceding years of the Iraq war.   

The nature of this current operation prompted two officers attached to Bravo Company to raise the same question on two separate occasions.  Major Kyle Hadlock, and Iraqi Captain Amir T., wondered if, on their own small stretch of the Diyala province, they were actually witnessing the last large-scale offensive of the war.