Smitty and I had spent most of the last 40 hours in a six-by-six vibrating, roaring steel box, just two small dust-clogged periscope blocks for a view. The good news was it was just Smitty, even with his elbows and knees and size 14 boots everywhere. A lot of guys were packed in spaces like this in sixes and eights, and had to switch leg positions in unison. Smitty and I had enough room to take turns sacking out on an improvised duffle bag mattress on the floor. ...
Around midnight, we pulled up on the southwestern flank of Najaf. Rogue, or 1/64, our sister battalion, was engaged in a fight up ahead. Rogue had encountered technicals – gun-mounted pickup trucks – and Iraqis in a trench complex. They killed about 40 of them. ...
Our fire-support Bradley was stopped in the middle of the road, facing north. In the bright morning light of March 23, the one lone tank 100 feet up the road and a couple of others in the fields on our flanks were the northernmost U.S. conventional forces in Iraq. ...