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‘Then it blew’

Aug-11-2005 » Filed Under: 1/25 SBCT

Link to Full Article (Opinion) (Subscription. Available in the 8/15/05 news stand edition)
By Matthew Cox, Army Times

Army Times reporter Matthew Cox and photographer James J. Lee have been patrolling the Syrian border with troops from Bravo Company, 3rd Battalion, 21st Infantry Regiment.

The 3-21 and 2nd Squadron, 14th Cavalry Regiment, are part of a task force under 1st Brigade of the 25th Infantry Division that has been operating in the area since mid-July in an effort to cut off insurgent infiltration routes.

The troops have been targeted regularly since arriving. On the afternoon of Aug. 1, a suicide bomber detonated a taxi packed with explosives in front of their stopped Stryker combat vehicle.

This is Cox’s account of getting a taste of what for the troops has become a common experience.

AL BU HARDEN, Iraq — I heard the two shots from Spc. Eddie Martinez’s M16, but I had no idea he was firing at a suicide car-bomber steering straight for us.

There was the “pop, pop” of the soldier’s weapon — though at the time, I did not know where the gunfire was coming from — then a deafening roar as a tremendous force knocked me to my hands and knees.

The suicide bomber had detonated his explosives-packed taxi fewer than 25 feet away.

Dust, earth, gravel, car parts and shrapnel flew everywhere; the air stank of scorched rubber and petroleum.

Moments before, photographer James J. Lee — we call him J. Lee — and I had been standing near the rear ramp of the Stryker combat vehicle we were riding in.

Now we were on the ground, trying to mentally process the chaos that enveloped us in an instant. I knew something had exploded, but I was in a daze. My first instinct was to crawl for cover, but I was so disoriented I didn’t know where to go.

J. Lee already was taking photographs.

A sharp, tingling pain bit into my lower left leg. A shrill ringing reverberated in both ears.

The next thing I remember was standing up and looking at J. Lee, now in the Stryker waving me over. I got inside, and it seemed as if everyone was yelling.

Martinez was holding out his bleeding hand and shouting something.

“He needs a bandage!” J. Lee said, handing me his scarf. I grabbed it and started wrapping it around Martinez’s fingers. My hands were shaking.

Cpl. Michael Wachowicz, B Company’s medic, came up and told me to come with him so he could look at my leg. I looked down and saw blood on my left pants leg and decided that was a good idea. [...]


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