BACK TO IRAQ: Soldiers enjoy a rare chance to fire big guns

BAGHDAD — Soldiers from a Fort Carson artillery battalion rejoiced here today in doing what’s become an extremely rare activity for them in Iraq.

They fired their artillery.

The 155 mm shells boomed into the evening air toward an open field more than six miles away. The objective was to keep people — especially insurgents who might try to hide weapons — out of an uninhabited restricted area. It’s what soldiers call an “area denial” mission.

The unit, the 3rd Battalion of the 29th Field Artillery Regiment, has fired only 200 cannon rounds since arriving in Iraq in December. All but two dozen of its soldiers are assigned to duties far removed from loading shells and pulling the cords of the big guns.

“This is my first time actually doing my artillery job and this is my third deployment,” said Sgt. Jason Grant of Los Angeles, who helped direct today’s artillery fire.

The battalion, part of Fort Carson’s 3rd Brigade Combat Team, has headquarters at Forward Operating Base Prosperity, miles from the cannons that fired today. Its troops guard the Green Zone, a piece of downtown Baghdad on the Tigris River that houses the Iraqi government, the U.S. Embassy and top military leaders.

Most of the unit’s 600 troops guard the portals of the high-security area, a tree-lined place with stunning monuments and several palaces from the former regime that show heavy evidence of U.S. Air Force bombing missions. Like most of the Army’s artillery units, it’s being used to fill traditional infantry and military police roles, because the cannons don’t get much use at this stage in the war.

Lt. Col. Kevin Gregory, the battalion’s commander and a native of Ireland, W.Va, said preparing his soldiers for duties that include searching cars and riding shotgun on diplomatic convoys meant splitting time between training for traditional long-distance artillery roles and learning how to battle insurgents eye to eye in an urban environment.

“They literally do both,” he said.

At the Green Zone, Gregory’s soldiers deal with thousands of incoming cars daily, and tens of thousands of pedestrians who either work at the government complex or have business there.

He said his artillery troops have focused on the sometimes mind-numbing security work and have embraced their new roles.

But the unit also has four of its 155 mm Paladin mobile guns on 24-hour alert at Forward Operating Base Falcon, on the city’s southwest edge.

There, Gregory’s soldiers work 12-hour shifts waiting for commanders to call for artillery fire.

Not many requests come these days because leaders don’t want to unleash the destructive power of shells into neighborhoods.

The exception has been the area denial missions, where the guns tear up uninhabited ground.

Soldiers say they live for these missions.

“The artillerymen all want to come out to shoot,” said Gregory, who is rotating troops through the traditional artillery job as a break from Green Zone duty.

Spc. Derrick Gosselin smiled as he prepared for today’s fire mission.

“It’s a lot of fun,” said the Sumter, S.C., native. “We’ve shot more than I thought we would.”

Inside one of the hulking, tracked artillery vehicles, Staff Sgt. Kenneth Sargent of Kileen, Texas, couldn’t erase his grin.

“We’re going to fire six rounds,” he said after he helped load the heavy ammunition into the Paladin. “We’re hoping to do it in under a minute.”

It’s tense when the firing starts: One misstep with the artillery can send high explosives into a neighborhood.

“Our job is to make it as accurate as we can,” said Staff Sgt. Craig Severson as he pondered how the wind and temperature might change where a shell lands.

A cheering section gathered as Gregory and other soldiers waited for the cannon to boom. Pfc. Joseph Perdue even planned his re-enlistment ceremony around the firing.

The cannon shook the ground as it fired and its barrel was shrouded in smoke. The shockwave jarred the audience.

They smiled.

The soldiers of the artillery battalion say they’re working hard at every job they’ve been given in Iraq. But nothing makes them happier than the loud blasts of their favorite line of work.

“This is all right,” Sgt. Amine Mann said. “This is all right.”

CONTACT THE WRITER: tom.roeder@gazette.com