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BAQUBAH, IRAQ -
As darkness fell and mortar rounds thudded in the distance, the soldiers of Attack Company's 3rd Platoon fired up a barbecue, mixed some marinade in a cut-off water bottle and slathered it on pork ribs with a paintbrush.
Spc. Brant Fechter leaped on top of a concrete barrier with an acoustic guitar, teetered wildly, steadied himself and belted out, "I'm craaaaa-zy with a capital K!"
His buddies laughed as they cooked by the light of their headlamps.
"That's the second-funniest thing I've seen this deployment," said Sgt. 1st Class Corey Oliver, the platoon sergeant, setting off a spirited debate on what had been the funniest.
As the soldiers of the 5th Battalion, 20th Infantry Regiment "Regulars" started dismantling their fighting vehicles and turning in their ammunition after 15 months in Iraq, suddenly there was time to start taking it all in. Thoughts turned to wives and girlfriends, whether to buy a house or a boat, that first cold beer, and friends who wouldn't be there to savor it with them.
"At least we made it alive," Staff Sgt. Mark Grover said quietly into his Dr Pepper.
For months, they were the strike force of the troop buildup, going in where the violence was at its worst, clearing up, moving on. Every place they went, they were told it was the worst, but it never seemed to be that bad when their armored Stryker vehicles lumbered in with their menacing cannons, antitank missiles and heavy machine guns.
Until they reached Baqubah, the city that Sunni Arab insurgents had named the capital of their Islamic caliphate.
On the battalion's first run through the city, it was pounded at every turn with automatic-weapons fire, rocket-propelled grenades and roadside bombs. By the end of the day, one soldier was dead, 12 were wounded and two vehicles had been destroyed.
"That kind of overwhelming show, we had never seen before," Oliver said. "So we pulled back, took a deep breath and realized, yeah, this AO [area of operation] really is that bad."
By the time the Regulars left Iraq in September, 21 of their 300 or so soldiers had been killed. About 50 were so badly injured that they never returned to the fight.
Their 3,700-strong 3rd Brigade, 2nd Infantry Division, based at Ft. Lewis, Wash., lost 48 soldiers in all, and nearly 650 were injured.
"That's a pretty steep price to pay," Col. Steve Townsend, the brigade commander, said as soldiers packed up his plywood headquarters at a sun-baked base called Warhorse, on the northwest outskirts of Baqubah. "I'd like to think it's been worth it. We'll see. I think the jury's out on that."
Spc. Ryan Muessig sat stiffly in the back of a Stryker, convinced he was about to die.
The vehicle lumbered along darkened country roads before coming to a grinding halt on the edge of a sleeping suburb on the west side of Baqubah. As the back hatch lowered, he adjusted his night-vision goggles, grabbed his rifle and assault pack and followed the squad into the night.
Muessig, a soft-spoken 25-year-old whose persistent pessimism and dark good looks remind his fellow soldiers of the actor John Cusack, comes from what he describes as a long line of bad luck in the military. His great-grandfather fought on the German side in World War I. His grandfather had three ships sink under him in World War II. And his father was wounded repeatedly before he was sent home from Vietnam.
Muessig grew up in Washington, Calif., a small town in the Sierra Nevada, population about 300. He joined the Army straight out of high school, hoping it would help him figure out what he wanted to do in life. But his first tour in Iraq convinced him that he was not cut out for the military.
He quit with no idea of how to make a living and ended up back in the Army in 2006. Within three months, he was on a plane to Iraq.
Spc. Brant Fechter leaped on top of a concrete barrier with an acoustic guitar, teetered wildly, steadied himself and belted out, "I'm craaaaa-zy with a capital K!"
His buddies laughed as they cooked by the light of their headlamps.
"That's the second-funniest thing I've seen this deployment," said Sgt. 1st Class Corey Oliver, the platoon sergeant, setting off a spirited debate on what had been the funniest.
As the soldiers of the 5th Battalion, 20th Infantry Regiment "Regulars" started dismantling their fighting vehicles and turning in their ammunition after 15 months in Iraq, suddenly there was time to start taking it all in. Thoughts turned to wives and girlfriends, whether to buy a house or a boat, that first cold beer, and friends who wouldn't be there to savor it with them.
"At least we made it alive," Staff Sgt. Mark Grover said quietly into his Dr Pepper.
For months, they were the strike force of the troop buildup, going in where the violence was at its worst, clearing up, moving on. Every place they went, they were told it was the worst, but it never seemed to be that bad when their armored Stryker vehicles lumbered in with their menacing cannons, antitank missiles and heavy machine guns.
Until they reached Baqubah, the city that Sunni Arab insurgents had named the capital of their Islamic caliphate.
On the battalion's first run through the city, it was pounded at every turn with automatic-weapons fire, rocket-propelled grenades and roadside bombs. By the end of the day, one soldier was dead, 12 were wounded and two vehicles had been destroyed.
"That kind of overwhelming show, we had never seen before," Oliver said. "So we pulled back, took a deep breath and realized, yeah, this AO [area of operation] really is that bad."
By the time the Regulars left Iraq in September, 21 of their 300 or so soldiers had been killed. About 50 were so badly injured that they never returned to the fight.
Their 3,700-strong 3rd Brigade, 2nd Infantry Division, based at Ft. Lewis, Wash., lost 48 soldiers in all, and nearly 650 were injured.
"That's a pretty steep price to pay," Col. Steve Townsend, the brigade commander, said as soldiers packed up his plywood headquarters at a sun-baked base called Warhorse, on the northwest outskirts of Baqubah. "I'd like to think it's been worth it. We'll see. I think the jury's out on that."
Spc. Ryan Muessig sat stiffly in the back of a Stryker, convinced he was about to die.
The vehicle lumbered along darkened country roads before coming to a grinding halt on the edge of a sleeping suburb on the west side of Baqubah. As the back hatch lowered, he adjusted his night-vision goggles, grabbed his rifle and assault pack and followed the squad into the night.
Muessig, a soft-spoken 25-year-old whose persistent pessimism and dark good looks remind his fellow soldiers of the actor John Cusack, comes from what he describes as a long line of bad luck in the military. His great-grandfather fought on the German side in World War I. His grandfather had three ships sink under him in World War II. And his father was wounded repeatedly before he was sent home from Vietnam.
Muessig grew up in Washington, Calif., a small town in the Sierra Nevada, population about 300. He joined the Army straight out of high school, hoping it would help him figure out what he wanted to do in life. But his first tour in Iraq convinced him that he was not cut out for the military.
He quit with no idea of how to make a living and ended up back in the Army in 2006. Within three months, he was on a plane to Iraq.
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