Black Hearts: One Platoon's Descent into Madness in Iraq's Triangle of Death by Jim Frederick

Author:Jim Frederick
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Military, Retail, Nonfiction
ISBN: 9780307450982
Publisher: Crown Publishing Group
Published: 2010-05-31T07:00:00+00:00

Sergeant First Class Blaisdell was at Yusufiyah trying to get a mission under way. A few days earlier, they had caught some suspicious types driving around and found several weapons in their truck, boxes of propaganda, a few artillery shells, and a handheld GPS device. Today, Blaisdell and parts of 3rd Platoon were planning on investigating some of the coordinates they had pulled off that GPS, a couple of spots in and around Rushdi Mullah. But the IED that took out Carrick had left him short-handed a fire team. He spotted Lieutenant Norton.

“Oh, hey, sir, how you doing?” he said.

“Hey, Blaisdell, what’s up? I heard what happened. Your guys okay?”

“Just a few scrapes. Everybody will be fine. Hey, you ever been to Rushdi?”

“Never been.”

“You wanna come?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Dude, I need a favor. Can you get like five guys? Because we’re strapped with all those guys back at Mahmudiyah getting checked out.”

“Yeah, I think I can work it.” Norton found his platoon. “Hey, I need a fire team to do this joint mission with 3rd Platoon.”

“Why?” some of them muttered. “They never help us. Fuck them.” Jesus, Norton thought, typical.

“Look, I am not playing this game,” Norton said. “We’re not rolling like that anymore. Bravo is Bravo, period, and we help each other out. So, who’s with me?”

Sergeant Roman Diaz volunteered, along with Specialist David Babineau, Specialist Thomas Doss, and Specialist James Gregory. They talked to Bravo and battalion commands and wrote up the order. Everybody headed to TCP1 to stage. They prepped their gear and checked the maps and Blaisdell briefed the men.

“You like it?” he asked Norton about the plan.

“Love it,” Norton said. Norton held the superior rank, but this mission was Blaisdell’s show. Norton would be overseeing Diaz’s fire team, but Blaisdell was calling the shots.

Leaving at around 3:00 p.m., they started walking the three miles toward town. Norton’s five-man fire team split off and veered to the west to investigate one set of coordinates, toward what the map suggested was a farmhouse. They would inspect the scene, a suspected cache site, and also lie in wait and support two 3rd Platoon fire teams, led by Staff Sergeant Chris Arnold and Staff Sergeant Joe Whelchel, who all continued toward the other grid closer to town. Rounding out Blaisdell’s crew were a handful of IAs and an interpreter. In a decision that would be second-guessed later, Blaisdell did not bring a medic.

Norton arrived at the farmhouse quickly. As his team approached, two men jumped into a blue hatchback, peeled out of the driveway, and sped off. Diaz asked if they should shoot.

Norton told him to hold fire, “but let’s get to that house, call Blais, and tell him that car might be coming his way.” They half knocked on, half barged in the door and, typically, the only person there was an older woman. She was flustered and upset. Norton had studied Arabic in college, and after spending four months in country, he knew how to say most of the important questions.

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