Clearing the Way: Missouri Sapper Company thwarts insurgents - Part I

By: Sgt. Jon E. Dougherty, Public Affairs, Noncommissioned Officer
203rd Engineer Battalion

NEAR FORWARD OPERATING BASE SALERNO, Afghanistan - While there may be no place in Afghanistan that is completely safe for U.S. and coalition forces, there are certainly some regions that are much more dangerous than others.

It is in those risky locales where you will find the 1141st Engineer Company (Sappers), part of the Missouri Army National Guard's 203rd Engineer Battalion - a unit charged with keeping Afghan roads clear of improvised explosive devices, currently one of the foremost threats to U.S. troops and, as it is, one of the most hazardous duties in the country.

The vast majority of vehicular traffic - military and otherwise - seeks to avoid contact with IEDs, but it is the job of these Missouri Guardsmen to hunt them like the Houn' Dawgs they are affectionately named after.

On a recent route clearance patrol, the 1141st indeed hunted down its quarry. Over a three-day period, two platoons of Houn' Dawgs encountered a dozen IEDs along a short stretch of road as well as indirect mortar and small arms fire from a small group of insurgents.

In the process, the unit suffered four vehicles lost or damaged, but no casualties. Furthermore, despite the best efforts of the enemy, the Houn' Dawgs accomplished their mission and, in the process, made life a little safer for Afghans living in the area.

***

RCP Charlie, led by 1st Lt. Ronnie Mayfield, set out Dec. 7 - Pearl Harbor Day - from Forward Operating Base Salerno to escort elements of another unit to a base some 15 kilometers away.

On the surface, it seemed like such a simple mission: a 15-kilometer route over mostly paved roads to a remote outpost, rest overnight, then return.

But in Afghanistan, no overland mission is that simple. Mayfield's veteran 3rd Platoon knew that. Nothing they had done since taking over the route clearance mission from their predecessors had been simple.

This assignment would be no different.

***

The convoy set out before dawn. The exhaust from the lumbering Mine Resistant Ambush Protected vehicles left plumes of steam in the cold air behind them as, one by one, the crews passed the base's outer checkpoint onto a rare paved road outside the gate.

A smattering of local nationals, some engaged in commerce, others perhaps on their way to work, stared intently as the convoy passed, a few turning to each other to exchange words or glances.

In truck Three-Three, driver Spc. Ryan A. Dautenhaun, of St. James, Mo.; Spc. Eric J. Phillippe, of Cosby, Mo., who was in the truck turret manning the vehicle's gun; and Staff Sgt. Chad A. Waters, of Norborne, Mo., the truck commander, chatted back-and-forth on the intercom about the ensuing mission.

"How many do you think we'll hit today?" Phillippe asked to no one in particular, referring to IEDs, many of which had been planted previously along the route in which they were about to travel.

"Oh, man," answered Waters, "it's going to be a lot. It always is on this route."

"Maybe we'll have a slow day," offered Dautenhaun, his mischievous grin betraying his attempt to hide the sarcasm.

"Yeah, sure," Waters replied sardonically. "No way that'll happen."

The seasoned crew, like the rest of their platoon - veterans, all, though they had only been in country for a few weeks - had been through this before. They had encountered IEDs and enemy fire and, save for the loss of a few vehicles, had come through unscathed. The enemy contact was liberating, insofar as it enabled each Soldier to answer a number of questions they had formed in their mind before their first taste of combat: "Will I be able to handle it?" "Can I do my part?" "Do I have what it takes to avoid letting down my battle buddies?"

To a man, each Soldier had satisfactorily answered each question. If there were any lingering doubts among members of the platoon, they would soon be answered.

***

The convoy was shorthanded, in that it was missing valuable defensive assets. One of their mine hunters had been destroyed just a day earlier by an IED along the same route the Missouri Houn' Dawgs were preparing to travel.

But because the mission had been deemed too important to delay, the Houn' Dawgs departed their forward operating base on schedule. Within an hour, they would make their first find.

As the convoy crawled along a dusty, pothole-filled section of dirt road, the sudden call of, "All stop, all stop!" over the radio brought each armored vehicle to an abrupt halt.

"This is Three-One, we've got a ping" said the lead element, referring to a signal indicating a possible IED buried in the roadway. Within moments, the convoy's massive Buffalo MRAP, with its clawed, stout hydraulic arm, acknowledged Three-One's find then inched forward towards the spot marked by the lead element to "interrogate," or dig up, the area in question.

After a brief interrogation, the Buffalo had uncovered an anti-tank mine along with secondary explosives, leading the convoy's Explosive Ordnance Disposal team to move forward to recover them.

It would take another hour for the team to extract the explosives, wire them for demolition and clear the road for traffic. The team moved the explosives to a spot some distance off the road before detonating them.

Once underway again, the convoy moved warily along, cognizant of the fact that they were entering an area known to be a haven for IEDs.

"There's one," Waters said. "Let's see how many more we can find."

He didn't have long to wait.

***

WHUMP! came the sound of the explosion, reverberating through the convoy with startling suddenness.

The radio came alive with traffic.

"This is Three-Six," barked the command element. "Who got hit?"

"Looks like Three-One," came the reply, referring to the convoy's Husky mine hunter, the lead element.

"Three-One, this is Three-Six, are you okay?"

"Three-Six, this is Three-One. I'm fine," said the lead element. "I'm sorry. I think I broke your Husky."

In Three-Three, there was laughter - albeit nervous laughter - at the lead element's joke, but all were first and foremost happy that the Soldier operating that vehicle was not only okay but in good spirits.

"We'll come get you Three-One," said the command element, adding that the convoy's medic would be accompanying a small group of Soldiers who were already dismounting to both secure the Husky and retrieve its driver.

***

The Husky had been badly damaged by an IED charge that EOD thought measured several dozen pounds' worth of homemade explosives. As soon as its driver was recovered and team cleared the area of further explosives, an operation to recover the damaged sections of the Husky began.

Third Platoon Soldiers worked tirelessly to hoist the Husky's remains aboard the convoy's wrecker vehicle. It is a process that cannot be rushed, due to the dangerous nature of securing and raising parts of a vehicle that weigh several thousand pounds each.

As the crew worked, from a nearby settlement the enemy watched. And when the time was right, the enemy attacked.

The first mortar landed harmlessly in the dirt about 80 yards or so away from the convoy and in between it and the mud-wall settlement from where it most likely was fired.

"Incoming!" came a shout over the radio. "Incoming!"

As the warning sounded, Third Platoon soldiers still recovering the Husky dove into a nearby ditch, as a gunner from a forward element opened fire from his turret with an M240B machine gun.

As the enemy answered with sporadic small-arms fire, another mortar shell landed behind the convoy, across the road, about 50 yards.

"They're trying to bracket us!" Dautenhaun said, referring to the enemy mortar team's attempt to find the correct distance to the convoy by adjusting its tube to fire at different angles until the correct angle and distance to the convoy could be determined.

But the second mortar round sparked heavier return fire from the convoy. With the staccato sound of the M240B blazing, M-4 rifles from Third Platoon's dismounted soldiers joined the fray.

"Where are they? Does anyone see them?" Waters shouted into the intercom. "Phillippe, do you see them?"

"I don't see anyone," Phillippe answered as he swiveled in his turret in a frantic bid to find a target.

But as quickly as the attack began, it ended just moments later. As the convoy's guns fell silent, the radio crackled with inquiries about battle damage, injuries and the status of the recovery effort.

"How is the recovery team? Where is [command element] Three-Six?" someone said.

"Three-Six is on the ground," came the reply. "They're all okay. Everyone's good."

END OF PART I

***

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