The three vehicle convoy, two black Suburban and one white Excursion, pulled out of the Gas Separation plant and turned left. The rear gunner leaned out of the back so that he could be seen clearly by the civilian drivers and signalled the Iraqi hand sign for “wait.” right thumb and two fingers held together and held upwards. The large sign on the rear of the vehicle proclaimed in English and Arabic that the use of deadly force was authorized on any vehicle getting too close. The cars at the front of the three lane carriageway were good as gold. They understood the signal, read the sign and slowed to a crawl to give the convoy a head start and as wide a berth as possible. It was as if it was a practiced manoeuvre. Each of them put on their hazard lights to warn other motorists behind them.
The gunner relaxed as the convoy increased its speed. “Go to 110.” came the team leader
in his radio earpiece.
“110, Two Roger!”
“110, Three Roger!” The other drivers reported back.
He kept his right hand on the pistol grip of the SAW (Squad Automatic Weapon) and pulled it back into his shoulder. It hung suspended between the two safety belt attachments, as a makeshift hammock, with his left hand he adjusted the belt feed from the box magazine to the top cover. They had gained about four hundred meters on the civilian vehicles
when he noticed a white saloon car tear up the inside of the traffic on the hard shoulder
spraying gravel and rocks and kicking up a large dust storm. It swerved in front of the
three lanes of Iraqi traffic and accelerated down the clear stretch of road towards them.
“Shit! Andy, Fast mover on our six!”
“Roger that Simon, I see him. Warn him off!”
The gunner pulled his Sure-fire torch from his Camelback stuffed down the side of his seat and with his left hand started flashing it rapidly at the driver. The Sure-fire is a good torch,
with a strong beam and even in daylight can be seen easily. The approaching car was still
accelerating.
“Fuck it, he’s still coming.”
“Block left!” the gunner called to the driver and in answer the gun truck swerved to the centre of the road. The Iraqi driver came on showing no signs of slowing. This escalated the situation. The centre vehicle carried two high ranking Officers from the United States Corps of Engineers. They had to be protected. This is why they had a PSD (Personal Security Detail) team, to ensure their safety. Taped to the barrel of the SAW’s the gunner had a 22 mini-flare launcher. A few inches long, they were normally carried in survival kits and life rafts. In Iraq, every rear vehicle had a set to warn off local drivers and stop them getting to close. Pulling back the trigger and letting it flick forward under the tension of its spring, the gunner sent a flare whooshing down the road. It was a perfect shot, striking the oncoming vehicles windscreen on the left side and ricocheting off skywards.
Surly now the Iraqi driver would slow down.
He must know he was in a dangerous position.
At close to one hundred meters distance and accelerating the gunner now only had a few seconds to make a life or death decision. He could see the driver of the vehicle straining to look past his gun truck, leaving the gunner in no doubt he intended to overtake.
“Standby!” he shouted into his radio. “Engaging.”
With the last shouted statement he fired an aimed three round burst directly into the centre mass front of the now overtaking saloon car. It was as the car swerved wildly he aimed his machine gun at the head of the driver and prepared to fire a second burst. It wasn’t needed as the white saloon now pulled over to the right hand side of the road and stopped in a cloud of dust, steam hissing out of the holes in the radiator. When the PSD team pulled away at speed down the carriageway the vehicle commander came up on the radio.
“Well done Si, no drama. I’ll write out a witness statement when we get back to base. You did it as per SOP’s (Standard Operating Procedures) and I bet the principles don’t even know you shot up a potential bad guy.”
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