'They faced death each day and did so without flinching'

Dogwood: A National Guard Unit’s War in Iraq by Andrew Wiest

A new book takes readers inside an Army Guard battalion’s long, hard and unforgettable Iraq deployment 20 years ago.

Dogwood trees are known for their beautiful spring blooms and attractive form. They’re common in Mississippi forests and landscapes, which makes them dear to many in the state, none more than the Soldiers of the 150th Engineer Battalion.

The forward operating base for their year-long deployment in Anbar Province carried the name of the tree. It was an ironic moniker — not much was beautiful in Iraq at the time. But it was a reminder of home, and FOB Dogwood was a refuge from the dangers just beyond the perimeter.

All that makes for a fitting title to a new book: Dogwood: A National Guard Unit’s War in Iraq by Andrew Wiest. The University of Southern Mississippi history professor tells the story based on the personal accounts he collected over many months from the battalion’s Soldiers and their families.

Wiest doesn’t sugarcoat things. The unit, which was part of the 155th Armored Brigade Combat Team, faced many challenges. It was undermanned and underequipped for the mission, which included many infantry tasks. The unit also experienced its share of tragedy.

But, in the end, it triumphed, in large part due to the bonds formed from many years of serving together well before it went to war.

While the book chronicles a single unit, Wiest says the story is really about the National Guard. And many Army Guardsmen who deployed to Iraq during the height of the insurgency, regardless of their state, will relate to the accounts.

“My hope is that, even if you weren’t in the unit, you will recognize everyone in the unit — that the unit’s personnel represent something bigger,” he says. “The 150th did what the Guard does. It was given a difficult task and used all the skills represented in the Guard to come up with innovative solutions to almost unsolvable problems.”

Wiest provided an excerpt to NATIONAL GUARD. It shares one of the lowest points of the deployment and its impact back home. It also reveals the character of the Soldiers and the family members involved.

Robert Arnold was a solid student in high school and had never really gravitated to working on cars like his father Larry and
brother Larry Jr. Robert was a better trombone player than most, but he always had known what he wanted to be. His father Larry was his role model. Hard working, kind, smart. Larry worked so hard for his family that, as far as Robert knew, he had never once taken a vacation.

Robert wanted to be like his dad, and to be like his dad, Robert wanted to join the National Guard and be a combat engineer [like his father]. Robert’s choice was made even easier during his sophomore year in high school when the terrorist strike hit the World Trade Center and Washington DC. He was only 17, but he was in the Guard within a week. It was a split option, which meant summer training during high school, and Guard entry after graduation.

As Robert was going through training, Larry served with the Guard’s 890th Engineer Battalion from the Mississippi Gulf Coast during the initial invasion of Iraq in 2003. Although there were occasions of fierce fighting, the opening phase of Operation Iraqi Freedom went remarkably smoothly, with the 3rd Infantry Division capturing Baghdad in under a month.

Then began the slow march of events that would lead to a grueling insurgency, but for Larry Arnold the war ended quickly. He was evacuated from Iraq to Germany with a medical condition and was not allowed to return to theater. Larry remained in the Guard and returned to home duty once his condition was rectified. He tried to get back to Iraq, but with no avail. As the situation in Iraq worsened, Larry couldn’t help but be haunted by the idea that he had somehow failed. The job had not been completed. …

The M113 had been augmented by hillbilly armor. ... That plate had held the shrapnel at bay, but its welds had given way.

To almost any outside observer in 2004, it looked plain that the 150th [Combat Engineers] would get called up to go to Iraq … Larry knew that, and he wanted to go back to Iraq, finish the job, and let his demons rest. So, Larry put in for a transfer to the 150th, which was approved before the unit received its orders for the war zone. … But there was the matter of his son, Robert, who was completing his training cycles. … Larry did everything he could to get Robert transferred into the 150th so that he could watch over his son. He hoped that being there to protect Robert would lessen the burden on [his wife] Melinda. It was October 2004 when Robert received the news. He was to transfer to the 150th immediately and would be serving with his father.

[At the send-off parade for the 150th before its journey to Iraq] Anice Lee was there to send her young grandson Terrance off to war. … She was most impressed when she met Larry Arnold. It was plain that he and Terrance were close, as they chatted amiably and patted each other on the back. Anice was cheered by the idea that Terrance was going to war among friends; that he wouldn’t be alone. Her eyes teared up, and she leaned in and gave Larry a hug. Larry put her head on his shoulder and said, “Don’t worry about Terrance. I’m going to bring him back.”

Larry Arnold Jr. was also there with his mother Melinda. They were happy to see that father Larry was among friends and was plainly respected as rather like a father in his unit. The younger Larry knew how good a father he had and was sure that his dad would serve that purpose well for the young men and women who were gathered around. Everywhere family members began to break out in tears as the gravity of the situation slowly dawned on them. But Melinda Arnold held it all in, standing there arm-in-arm with Larry. She was not going to cry. Larry had enough to worry about without worrying about her. Just before he took his position aboard the flatbed truck, Larry told his son that he had just bought a 1949 Chrysler. That car was going to be their project when he got home, and that car would be his.

[Halfway into the deployment] as June [2005] began, the Arnolds had something extremely exciting to talk about. Robert was coming home on leave. He had thought about postponing his leave to take some extra training with the Marines. However, the luck of the draw had him slated to go home in June, so he decided to stick with it. Melinda was so happy to hear that Robert was coming home. She rarely showed it, but the strain of having a husband and a son in a war zone was debilitating. …

[Shortly after Robert Arnold’s departure] on June 11, Bravo Company’s task was to head to a village in the northern part of the AO that was not often visited given the constant need to keep a wary eye on the insurgent-dominated village of Owesat. … The unit’s interpreter] Assim … [rode in] the 113 that was going to carry his friends Larry Arnold and Terrance Lee. He loved talking to those guys, so it was going to be a great day.

For his part Larry Arnold wasn’t even supposed to be going on the mission. His platoon leader, Lieutenant Mike Beal, had taken Arnold’s name from the list that day. Arnold was older at 46 and Beal kind of figured that he might could use some rest after having run a long mission the day before. But Arnold told Beal that he was good to go; he wanted to go and do his duty just like everyone else. So, Larry Arnold talked his way back onto the mission.

John Voccio led the way in his tank, followed by Captain Paul Lyon’s Humvee, and three M113s. … Hap Palmer was standing there as the vehicles made their way out of Dogwood. As they filed past, he couldn’t help but think how brave these kids were. Most of the guys in the vehicles were young guys. After missions and on downtime they liked nothing more than to do what other folks their age did — play video games. In a more peaceful world that is exactly what the guys would be doing, playing video games, going to school, and going out at night to meet girls. But in Iraq, they faced death each day and did so without flinching.

[In the northern village nothing was found] just a boring day. On the way back to FOB Dogwood the patrol went a different route, being assigned a new counter mortar mission. In Lieutenant Beal’s M113 Beal stood in the gunner’s position, with Michael Martin driving and David Landrum sitting to his side. Arnold and Lee were seated at the far back, staying as far away from the incoming dust as possible. Assim was seated just a bit further forward. Their day was coming to an end, and dinner and a rest were on their minds. When Beal looked back, he saw Lee and Arnold both fast asleep. It had been another long, hot day with little to show for it.

[Voccio’s tank started up a large hill] doing exactly what it was supposed to do in avoiding whenever possible the tracks of previous patrols. But this hill was so steep that Lyon’s driver had to veer outside of the tank’s tracks to make it up the hill, and the rest of the patrol followed. In so doing, the Humvee crossed the tracks of a previous patrol. Lyon couldn’t help but shudder, but nothing happened. Maybe they had gotten lucky. Lyon passed the spot; the next Humvee passed the spot. … But then when the M113 carrying Arnold, Lee, and Assim reached the spot there was a huge explosion. Mike Beal didn’t even have time to register a blast, or heat, or anything. He was just flying through the air, having been blown out of the gunner’s turret of the M113. He landed with a thud atop the stricken vehicle, knocked out.

Lyon along with Marty Davis turned to look from their Humvee and saw sand and smoke rising from the M113, but it had not been torn to shreds like in previous IEDs. Maybe everyone was okay. Quickly, a defensive perimeter was formed, and rescuers rushed back to the stricken vehicle. Among the first to the scene were Lyon, Davis, Voccio, and medic Joseph Smith. …

And they could hardly believe the scene that awaited them. Atop the vehicle lay Beal, shaking uncontrollably. He seemed almost in a fog, but quickly recognized Lyon and the others running up, even though to him they seemed to be moving in slow motion. He shook his head to clear the massive cobwebs further and joined in the search of the vehicle.

The explosion, caused by a 155mm artillery shell hooked up to a pressure plate, had gone off directly under the rear quarter of the M113 and would have thrown shrapnel all through the vehicle, killing everyone. But weeks before at Dogwood, the M113 had been augmented by hillbilly armor, a 5/8thinch thick steel plate welded beneath the rear of the vehicle where troops rode. That plate had held the shrapnel at bay, but its welds had given way, bending the steel plate upward with a massive crushing force. …

There was a knock at the door.
Somehow, Melinda knew what that knock meant.

Smith and Voccio attempted to open the back door of the 113, but the crumpling armor had jammed it. Next, they scrambled to the top hatch where they were able to reach Arnold and Lee. Mike Beal joined in but felt all the strength leave his body as he saw the scene. The massive force of the blast had crushed much of Lee’s skull and had blown off one of his legs. Smith took some grim solace that Terrance Lee, that constantly smiling presence had died instantly, never knowing a moment of fear or pain.

Larry Arnold almost certainly had a broken neck, had all his teeth blown out, and had a host of other broken bones, but he was still breathing. The men, though, could not reach Assim. The mangled armor didn’t allow them access to him through the top hatch, but they knew that he was in there. So, Voccio crawled over to the emergency hatch and opened it. There was Assim. The crumpled armor had pinned the lower part of his body. He didn’t have a pulse that Voccio could feel, and, although he figured it was useless given the state of the armor, he gave Assim’s body a tug to see if it could be pulled free.

Voccio was surprised when the body moved easily, and when he got Assim through the escape hatch he discovered why. One of his legs had been shorn off above the knee by the force of the armor’s crumpling. After placing Assim on the ground, Voccio went back inside the tortured 113 and retrieved his leg.

Two were KIA, and Larry Arnold was in deeply critical condition. With the perimeter up, Lyon put out the call for a medevac chopper. Hopefully Arnold could be saved. But it was plain that he had massive internal injuries and was having great difficulty breathing. Hoping against hope to buy Arnold time, Smith performed an emergency tracheotomy, allowing Arnold to breathe more freely. But he turned to Lyon and yelled that the chopper had better get there soon.

He didn’t know how much more time Arnold had. Lyon could hardly believe it. The damn choppers from Baghdad hemmed and hawed about coming. There was a sandstorm brewing and a landing zone in the area might be hot and under fire. Lyon was nearly frantic. Time was the most precious commodity, and the choppers were wasting it. Should Arnold be placed in another vehicle and be taken to Dogwood? Just then the news arrived, the choppers were inbound. But 20 minutes had been lost.

The chopper carried a doctor from Baghdad who got out to assess the situation. … He went straight to Larry Arnold, who still had Joseph Smith kneeling at his side. The doctor took Arnold’s pulse on his fingertip and, finding none, pronounced him dead. … Smith looked up and told the doctor that Arnold did have a pulse, but it needed to be checked at his neck. It might be faint, but it was still there. Smith and Lyon both pled with the doctor, and Lyon was pretty sure that some of the guys in his unit were ready to beat that doctor’s ass if he didn’t comply.

Checking Arnold’s neck did indicate a faint pulse, so the doctor got to work at a frenetic pace, and Arnold was soon placed aboard the chopper and was off to Baghdad. Not too long after, though, Lyon received the call over his radio. Arnold had died on the flight to the hospital.

The bodies of Lee and Assim were loaded aboard another M113 to be taken back to Dogwood before they were returned to their families. … As Assim and Lee returned to base, and the 150th made ready to deal with another great loss, it was time to strip and retrieve the stricken M113. The quick reaction force was on site, including Hap Palmer. Both he and Voccio were determined that the M113 not become a spectacle in the vehicle graveyard at FOB Duke. And they greatly wished to honor the memories of their fallen comrades. So, while others stripped the vehicle of its sensitive items, Palmer and Voccio crawled into the crumpled crew compartment and cleaned away any human memories of that horrible moment.

[Back in Mississippi] It was a joyous occasion in the Arnold household. Robert was back! … Robert went to his apartment to get some shut eye as Melinda began work on dinner. … It was going to be a night of happiness. Then there was a knock at the door. Somehow Melinda knew what that knock meant. She looked out the window, and sure enough there were two military men out there in dress uniforms. She screamed and fell to her knees. Picking herself up a few seconds later, Melinda went to the door. The men asked to come inside to talk. She said, “No. You can leave,” and closed the door in their faces. The men retreated to their car to sit. They weren’t leaving without passing on the information that they had come to give.

Robert had heard his mother’s scream and had come from his apartment to see what was the matter. The car was parked there with the two military men inside. Larry Jr. was standing there staring into space, deeply wrapped in thought. Robert quickly discerned the nature of the situation and went inside to be with his mom. Those men sat in that car for more than an hour before Melinda was ready to receive them. They carried the news that the family had feared. Larry Arnold Sr. had been killed by an IED in Iraq.

Melinda sat inconsolable with the chaplain for over an hour, and then she suddenly snapped back into place. It was like the flipping of a switch. Larry still needed her, and her family needed her. As her son Larry Jr. recalled, she never cried again until the funeral, and then only for a short period.

Larry Arnold Sr. arrived in New Orleans on Father’s Day in 2005. It was like the whole airport shut down when his casket was removed from the aircraft with a flag draped over it. Crowds stood saluting or with their hands over their hearts in silence as Melinda accompanied her husband on his journey to McDonald Funeral Home in Picayune, Mississippi. Robert had been left to wonder why he was home when his father had been killed in Iraq. Could he have done something to save him? He should have been there. But as Melinda began to navigate her new world in the wake of her husband’s death, Robert realized that he was right where he was supposed to be. …

It seemed that all Picayune turned out for Larry’s funeral. Roads were lined for miles around with mourners. The police and fire departments lined the way saluting and carrying American flags. … There was a 21-gun salute, the folded flag, and a bagpiper. Jerry Cooley [who had lost his son Sean in Iraq a few months before] attended the funeral. If anyone knew what Melinda was going through it was him. She rested her head on his shoulder and the combined loss was almost too much to bear for both, but sharing it somehow seemed to help.

In the wake of the loss, Robert was in a hurry for his home leave to be over and to get back to Iraq. He was determined to do his part in honor of his father. But that was not to be. The command of the 150th believed that the Arnold family had suffered enough loss. Melinda could not be allowed to lose both a husband and a son. Robert would be transferred to a position at Camp Shelby instead and, no matter how many times he asked, he would not be returning to FOB Dogwood.

At first, the decision hurt Robert. He wanted to be there with his buddies in his National Guard family doing his service. He wanted to complete his father’s mission. But after a while he decided not to fight the decision. His mother was going through the great crisis of her life. He knew that he couldn’t make that crisis worse by returning to the war zone. And he knew that she needed him there. As much as he wanted to return to Iraq, his place was at home helping her.

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TOP PHOTO: Charlie Company Soldiers on operations pose for a picture after digging out a munitions cache. (CHRIS THOMAS COLLECTION)

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR Andrew Wiest is university distinguished professor of History at the University of Southern Mississippi in Hattiesburg, Mississippi. He is also the founding director of the USM’s Dale Center for War and Society and the Center for the Study of the National Guard. His books include Vietnam’s Forgotten Army: Heroism and Betrayal in the ARVN, which won the Society for Military History’s Distinguished Book Award, and the bestselling The Boys of 67: Charlie Company’s War in Vietnam.