So it’s late March 2003 and we get the order we were waiting for, to cross the Iraqi border. We set off in lines of humvees and cargo trucks that go from the horizon in front to the horizon in back. We felt pretty safe at this point, pretty powerful. After all this was as big a can of whoop ass as any we’d ever seen. As night fell, the wind kicked up. Visibility varied but generally we were able to see a couple hundred meters with no problem.
Then a worrying radio call comes down, reminding us that the minefield between Iraq and Kuwait was notorious for shifting in high winds and the loose sand. It’s worth noting that the convoy was crawling, doing no more than 20 or 25 mph. The worst thing that could happen at this point was a “loss of contact”. Where the front of the convoy leaves the back behind. The digital map technology was in only a fraction of our trucks and breaking into different groups could be a major waste of time or even disastrous if there was no digital map with the group.
As visibility dropped we had to drive closer together. And as we passed the first stakes marking the breaching lane, it went straight down to zero. So we tried to find the rear infrared marker light of the humvee in front of us. Because we’re also doing this in black out, depending on night vision goggles to see. And we found the humvee in front of us all right. We tapped them right on the bumper. Just to explain how low visibility is, we’re riding in a pickup style humvee. Only 2 of the 6 of us are inside. I’m actually standing up behind a machinegun. And not one of us saw the humvee in front before we tapped it. Nobody and no thing was hurt but we got told to back off and trust the stakes on either side for ten minutes or so.
So we did. And then the stakes betrayed us. It was a few minutes later when visibility flashed higher and we saw we weren’t in line anymore. We were next to the convoy, on the other side of the stakes. We were all sure we were about to hit a mine. But we can’t stay there, so we all cringe as we slowly turn back towards the convoy. We made it back, in the correct spot even. Visibility dropped again and we decided the humvee in front of us was our humvee too, nobody complained about the small taps that occurred several more times that night.
We didn’t know it yet but the American invasion brought with it a record breaking amount of rain to southern Iraq. Over the next couple days we would be driving routes that were an inch above shallow lakes and we were constantly wet and gritty. But visibility never again dropped that low for us.
Definitely sandstorm minefield
So it’s late March 2003 and we get the order we were waiting for, to cross the Iraqi border. We set off in lines of humvees and cargo trucks that go from the horizon in front to the horizon in back. We felt pretty safe at this point, pretty powerful. After all this was as big a can of whoop ass as any we’d ever seen. As night fell, the wind kicked up. Visibility varied but generally we were able to see a couple hundred meters with no problem.
Then a worrying radio call comes down, reminding us that the minefield between Iraq and Kuwait was notorious for shifting in high winds and the loose sand. It’s worth noting that the convoy was crawling, doing no more than 20 or 25 mph. The worst thing that could happen at this point was a “loss of contact”. Where the front of the convoy leaves the back behind. The digital map technology was in only a fraction of our trucks and breaking into different groups could be a major waste of time or even disastrous if there was no digital map with the group.
As visibility dropped we had to drive closer together. And as we passed the first stakes marking the breaching lane, it went straight down to zero. So we tried to find the rear infrared marker light of the humvee in front of us. Because we’re also doing this in black out, depending on night vision goggles to see. And we found the humvee in front of us all right. We tapped them right on the bumper. Just to explain how low visibility is, we’re riding in a pickup style humvee. Only 2 of the 6 of us are inside. I’m actually standing up behind a machinegun. And not one of us saw the humvee in front before we tapped it. Nobody and no thing was hurt but we got told to back off and trust the stakes on either side for ten minutes or so.
So we did. And then the stakes betrayed us. It was a few minutes later when visibility flashed higher and we saw we weren’t in line anymore. We were next to the convoy, on the other side of the stakes. We were all sure we were about to hit a mine. But we can’t stay there, so we all cringe as we slowly turn back towards the convoy. We made it back, in the correct spot even. Visibility dropped again and we decided the humvee in front of us was our humvee too, nobody complained about the small taps that occurred several more times that night.
We didn’t know it yet but the American invasion brought with it a record breaking amount of rain to southern Iraq. Over the next couple days we would be driving routes that were an inch above shallow lakes and we were constantly wet and gritty. But visibility never again dropped that low for us.