By William Branigin
Washington Post Foreign Service
Monday, March 31, 2003; 5:30 PM
NEAR KARBALA, March 31-As an unidentified four-wheel drive vehicle came
barreling toward an intersection held by troops of the Army's 3rd Infantry
Division, Capt. Ronny Johnson grew increasingly alarmed. From his position at
the intersection, he was heard radioing to one of his forward platoons of M2
Bradley Fighting Vehicles to alert it to what he described as a potential
"Fire a warning shot," he ordered as the vehicle kept coming. Then, with
increasing urgency, he told the platoon to shoot a 7.62mm machine-gun round
into its radiator. "Stop [messing] around!" Johnson yelled into the company
radio network when he still saw no action being taken. Finally, he shouted at
the top of his voice, "Stop him, Red 1, stop him!"
That order was immediately followed by the loud reports of 25mm cannon fire
from one or more of the platoon's Bradleys. About half a dozen shots were
heard in all.
"Cease fire!" Johnson yelled over the radio. Then, as he peered into his
binoculars from the intersection on Highway 9, he roared at the platoon
leader, "You just [expletive] killed a family because you didn't fire a
warning shot soon enough!"
So it was that on a warm, hazy day in central Iraq, the fog of war descended
on Bravo Company.
Fifteen Iraqi civilians were packed inside the Toyota, it turned out, along
with as many of their possessions as the jammed vehicle could hold. Ten of
them, including five children who appeared to be under 5 years old, were
killed on the spot when the high-explosive rounds slammed into their target,
Johnson's company reported. Of the five others, one man was so severely
injured that medics said he was not expected to live.
"It was the most horrible thing I've ever seen, and I hope I never see it
again," Sgt. Mario Manzano, 26, an Army medic with Bravo Company of the
division's 3rd Battalion, 15th Infantry Regiment, said later in an interview.
He said one of the wounded women sat in the vehicle holding the mangled
bodies of two of her children. "She didn't want to get out of the car," he
The tragedy cast a pall over the company as it sat in positions it occupied
Sunday on this key stretch of Highway 9 at the intersection of a road leading
to the town of Hilla, about 14 miles to the east, near the Euphrates River.
The Toyota was coming from that direction when it was fired on.
Dealing with the gruesome scene was a new experience for many of the U.S.
soldiers deployed here, and they debated how the tragedy could have been
avoided. Several said they accepted the platoon leader's explanation to
Johnson on the military radio that he had, in fact, fired two warning shots,
but that the driver failed to stop. And everybody was edgy, they realized,
since four U.S. soldiers were blown up by a suicide bomber Saturday at a
checkpoint much like theirs, only 20 miles to the south.
On a day of sporadic fighting on the roads and in the farms and wooded areas
around the intersection, the soldiers of Bravo Company had their own reasons
to be edgy. The Bradley of the 3rd Battalion's operations officer, Maj. Roger
Shuck, was fired on with a rocket-propelled grenade a couple of miles south
of Karbala. No one in the vehicle was seriously injured, but Shuck had
difficulty breathing afterward and had to be treated with oxygen, medics said.
That happened after a column of M1 Abrams tanks headed north to Karbala in
the early afternoon and returned a couple of hours later. Throughout the day,
Iraqis lobbed periodic mortar volleys at the U.S. troops, and Iraqi
militiamen and soldiers tried to penetrate the U.S. lines. Later, U.S.
multiple-launcher vehicles fired rockets to try to take out the mortar
batteries as AH-64 Apache helicopters swooped low over the arid terrain in
search of other enemy gun emplacements.
It was in the late afternoon, after this day defending their positions, that
the men of Bravo Company saw the blue Toyota coming down the road and
reacted. After the shooting, U.S. medics evacuated survivors to U.S. lines
south of here. One woman escaped without a scratch. Another, who had
superficial head wounds, was flown by helicopter to a U.S. field hospital
when it was learned she was pregnant.
Lt. Col. Stephen Twitty, the 3rd Battalion commander, gave permission for
three of the survivors to return to the vehicle and recover the bodies of
their loved ones. Medics gave the group 10 body bags. U.S. officials offered
an unspecified amount of money to compensate them.
"They wanted to bury them before the dogs got to them," said Cpl. Brian
Truenow, 28, of Townsend, Mass.
[The Pentagon issued a statement in Washington saying the vehicle was fired
on after the driver ignored shouted orders and warning shots. The shooting,
it said, is under investigation. According to the Pentagon account, the
vehicle was a van carrying "13 women and children." Seven were killed, two
were injured and four were unharmed, it said, without mentioning any men.]
To try to prevent a recurrence, Johnson ordered that signs be posted in
Arabic to warn people to stop well short of the Bradleys guarding the eastern
approach to the intersection. Before they could be erected, 10 people
carrying white flags walked down the same road. They included seven children,
an old man, a woman and a boy in his teens.
"Tell them to go away," Johnson ordered. But he reconsidered when told that
the family claimed its house had been blown up and that they were trying to
reach the home of relatives in a safer area.
"They look like they pose no threat at this time," one of the Bradley
Johnson, a former Army Ranger who parachuted into Panama in 1989, fought in
the 1991 Persian Gulf War and rose through the ranks, relented. He ordered
his troops to tell the old man that the group could walk around the Bradleys.