Running the Gantlet to Make It Out Alive

As Army Pfc. Jeremy Godwin viewed it, there were certain things that should happen to a man on his 26th birthday and certain things that should not.

“You’re not supposed to get shot at on your birthday,” Godwin said as he settled into the machine-gun turret of his Humvee on Tuesday afternoon.

Godwin and the rest of COLT platoon, 1st Armored Division, were parked outside Najaf’s main police station when the shooting started. Al Mahdi militiamen hidden behind tombstones in a vast Shiite Muslim cemetery hundreds of yards to the north were firing mortar rounds and rockets at the battered police complex, as they do almost every day.

For roughly 20 minutes, the crews of four Humvees waited in the trucks’ sweltering cabs as U.S. forces fired at the guerrillas. “Fun fun in the Iraqi sun,” muttered Spc. Timothy Folkers, a wad of chewing tobacco stuffed into his lower lip. Folkers, who gripped the steering wheel of the lead Humvee, had already celebrated his 26th birthday this year.

“I’m getting too old for this,” he said in disgust, then spat out the window. “We’re going to have to shoot our way out of this.”

Once it appeared that the threat of more rocket and mortar attacks had ended, the convoy started its engines and began its journey back to base on the outskirts of Najaf. Their commander, Lt. Col. Bill Rabena, said the route, known as the Gantlet, was a vivid example of the sort of dangers faced by U.S. troops in Najaf, the holy city that radical cleric Muqtada Sadr has claimed.

The trouble started almost as soon as the convoy rolled out of the police complex. The line of Humvees made a quick left onto a street known as Route Miami and passed an alleyway with children playing soccer.

In the next alley, a man with a rocket-propelled grenade launched the explosive at the convoy. It missed.

At that moment, men with machine guns appeared on rooftops and in windows along the street, and others fired from an earthen berm built along the road. Other men ran at the column with RPGs on their shoulders.

“We’re surrounded!” yelled Staff Sgt. Hugh Edinger of Pasadena, as more rockets whooshed past the vehicles. One struck a power line, which exploded in an avalanche of sparks, and others smashed into the road and buildings. Spc. Benjamin Cattaneo, in the passenger seat, fired into the street, while Godwin struggled to unjam his weapon.

Swerving to avoid a horse and then a donkey, the vehicles fishtailed around corners and barreled down crowded streets. The vehicles seemed about to flip over on corners as machine gunners and passengers sprayed the street with bullets.

A passenger in a taxi chasing the convoy fired a rocket-propelled grenade.

In the lead vehicle, Folkers gunned the engine, running over a man with a machine gun, and Sgt. Robert Beatty of Gardena fired two rounds into the chest of a man holding two grenades. An RPG exploded beside his gun port, flinging shrapnel into one of Beatty’s cheeks.

As the troops entered the home stretch, they were terrified to find heavy traffic. Shouting at motorists to get out of the way, they wove between buses, motorcycles and cars, their vehicles occasionally tearing off side-view mirrors and running onto the highway’s shoulder.

By the time the convoy skidded into the U.S. base, Rabena said, it had been fired on by 12 RPGs and killed at least five insurgents. None of Rabena’s troops was seriously injured.

Piling out of their vehicles, they recounted each peril over and over. They smoked cigarettes, guzzled water and gave one another high-fives. Their eyes were wide with excitement.

Sgt. Chris Stanis, an Army photographer in the convoy, said it was the worst he’d seen since arriving in Iraq. He said he couldn’t help smiling afterward.

“Any intense event will produce endorphins,” Stanis said. “That’s how it works. When you have sex, you feel good. When you go skydiving, you feel good. When you get shot at, you feel good.”