Civilian Warriors: The Inside Story of Blackwater and the Unsung Heroes of theWar on Terror (25 page)

At least some of those shootings resulted in fatalities—though, admittedly, we don’t have the exact numbers on it. My men were guards, not investigators. Sticking around to analyze a shooting would have been directly counter to our mission to keep the principals away from threats. “
We shot to kill
and didn’t stop to check a pulse,” one former Blackwater contractor said.

It practically goes without saying that approach earned us no friends among Iraqi civilians, or the emergent government agencies representing them. In February 2007, for instance, a Blackwater sniper on the rooftop of the Ministry of Justice, in which a U.S. diplomat had a meeting, faced incoming small-arms fire and responded by killing three potential threats on a nearby balcony.
An Iraqi police report
described Blackwater’s shootings as “an act of terrorism,” yet an
internal State Department review
found the contractor’s defensive, well-aimed shots justified and “within the approved rules.”

Three months later, one of my men fatally wounded the driver of a maroon sedan who failed to keep a safe distance from a Blackwater convoy passing by the Iraqi Ministry of Interior. After the driver refused to follow our gunners’ hand signals and their yelling “
Kiff!
”—“Stop!” in Arabic—Blackwater’s men first shot his radiator, and only after that failed to stop him put bullets into his windshield. The legitimate shooting led to an armed standoff between the contractors and ministry forces, ultimately resolved only by officers from a passing military convoy. The shooting “
could undermine a lot
of the cordial relationships that have been built up over the past four years,” Matthew Degn, an American adviser to the Interior Ministry, told the
Washington Post
at the time. “There’s a lot of angry people up here right now.”

And then there was the shooting on a highway east of Kirkuk, in northern Iraq. The security convoy, protecting employees of the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, was approached “
at a high rate of speed
” by an orange-and-white taxi, according to a Corps statement.
The contractors ultimately fired
into the vehicle, wounding three Iraqi civilians. Speculation abounded regarding more of Blackwater’s “cowboy” ways. The only problem? My men weren’t anywhere near Kirkuk that day. The shooters were from British firm Erinys International. But by late 2007, even though there were some 170 private security companies operating in Iraq, any time a contractor fired a weapon people just assumed it was Blackwater.

As my company’s critics are quick to point out, those 195 shootings by Blackwater were indeed more than the combined number by DynCorp and Triple Canopy, the other two companies on the WPPS II contract. Which sounds damning—without context. The fuller picture is that Blackwater carried out sixteen thousand personal security detail missions in Iraq over that same two-year time frame, so those 195 incidents represented shots fired on only 1.2 percent of
our missions. Nearly 99 percent of the time, we did not fire our weapons at all.

And while I grasp the temptation to compare Blackwater to those other firms, my company held down twice as much WPPS work as those two combined as well. The people who wrote the rule book—and made sure we obeyed it—certainly didn’t seem to have a problem with our approach. “[Blackwater’s behavior] is
obviously condoned by State
and it’s what State expects, because they have contract oversight,” Jack Holly, a retired Marine colonel who oversaw several private security firms as director of logistics for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, told the
Washington Post
in 2007. “If they didn’t like it, they would change it.”

On the morning of the Izdihar compound blast, just like every other morning, Blackwater’s men received a premission brief on their assignments for the day and the latest intelligence. Those briefs were detailed down to the seat each team member would take in their respective vehicles and what their individual responsibilities were. State’s regional security officer reiterated to our men that morning the rules of engagement and the use of force continuum—which were obeyed that day.

In the years since September 16, 2007, it has become popular to focus on what Blackwater’s men might have recognized, or should have known, or could have done differently in the midst of armed conflict. Those arguments, as old as war itself, are easy to make now. But I wasn’t there then. And I will not second-guess the split-second decisions of my men. The exact details of what unfolded in Nisour Square remain the subject of ongoing litigation and intense debate in the media. The description of events here is re-created from a number of government investigations, State Department radio logs, photographic evidence, news reports, and the sworn statements of Blackwater’s men, whom to this day I have no reason to doubt.

•   •   •

I
t’s possible that in the face of Raven 23’s contractors waving him down, Al Rubia’y simply stepped on the gas instead of the brakes—that’s one hypothesis. But for reasons we will never know, the white
Kia didn’t stop. Finally, believing Blackwater’s men were in grave and imminent danger,
Slough fired a single bullet
through the sedan’s windshield, hitting the driver in his forehead. Given more time to investigate the potential threat, it’s possible Slough would have noticed that the twenty-year-old wasn’t alone in the vehicle, or that he wasn’t talking to himself, or other characteristics that might have demonstrated that Al Rubia’y wasn’t a bomber, but rather a medical school student driving his mother across town.

Moments after Al Rubia’y was struck, Mehasin Muhsin Kadhum,
the woman in the white sedan
, began screaming for help. The forty-six-year-old pathologist cradled her son’s lifeless body. Ali Khalaf, the traffic officer,
sprinted to the vehicle and reached
into the driver’s side of the car. He, too, was screaming. The Kia, with its automatic transmission—and, potentially, Al Rubia’y’s right foot still resting on the accelerator—
continued to roll toward Blackwater’s convoy
.
Is the cop a threat, too?
my men wondered.
Is he pushing the car toward us?

Just ten days before, the Independent Commission on the Security Forces of Iraq had reported to Congress what Blackwater’s men had known for years:
Iraqi security forces were so corrupt
, “the Ministry of Interior (MoI) is a ministry in name only,” said commission chair and former Marine Corps general James L. Jones. “Sectarianism and corruption are pervasive in the MoI and cripple the ministry’s ability to accomplish its mission to provide internal security for Iraqi citizens.” We didn’t trust anyone in those blue police shirts.

Suddenly, my men in Nisour Square saw muzzle flashes spark in the distance. AK-47 rounds pinged off the side of the convoy vehicles. “
Contact! Contact! Contact
!
” The radio call from Raven 23 sliced through the din at State’s tactical operations center (TOC) center in the Green Zone. “I started receiving small-arms fire from the shack approximately fifty meters behind the car,” Slough later said. “
I then engaged the individuals
where the muzzle flashes came from.” He began shooting back. The crowded traffic circle was suddenly the scene of a full-fledged firefight.

As Slough aimed into the distance,
a second traffic cop ran
to the white Kia. Jeremy Ridgeway, a Blackwater turret gunner on the fourth armored truck, could see that car still creeping closer. Everyone was screaming. That threat wasn’t gone. So Ridgeway took aim at the vehicle and fired multiple rounds from his M4 assault rifle into the windshield, killing Kadhum instantly.
More Blackwater men joined in
, firing repeatedly at the sedan in hopes of stopping it.

The traffic cops fled back to their operations shed; some of Raven 23’s gunners followed them in their sights while another shot a grenade at the Kia. The round exploded under the passenger compartment, blowing it off the ground.
The blast ignited
the fuel lines and engulfed the car in flames.

More muzzle flashes came from around the circle, from uniformed Iraqis and those in civilian clothes. By that time, both insurgents and Iraqi police carried AK-47s. Were those blue shirts taking aim at our convoy undercover enemies? Were they legitimate officers, fearing they’d been caught in a firefight with rogue contractors? My men fired back, the brittle crackle of their M4s mixing in with yelling and the sounds of shattering windshields. “
Blackwater air support advised
of small-arms fire at Nisour Square!” the men radioed in. “Raven 23 reports Iraqi police shooting at convoy!”

Incoming AK-47 shots
bounced off the street and notched divots in the sides of Blackwater’s white armored trucks. Their training demanded my men get off the X—get clear of the fight—and Raven 23 attempted to do just that. But crucially, in a
detail that has been absent
from most mainstream recounting of that day, a round from an insurgent rifle skipped off the pavement beneath the convoy’s lead armored truck and severed its coolant hose. That vehicle was a repurposed money transfer vehicle, much like you’d find outside a bank, provided to us by the State Department. Its armor had been upgraded, but those vehicles were never designed for combat operations and their fragile radiator components below were not protected.

Suddenly, coolant gushed out into the traffic circle, pooling around the 5.56-mm brass shell casings spraying out from the Blackwater
guns. The driver in Raven 23’s wounded lead vehicle cranked the ignition, but
the truck refused to start
. Its electronic control module, the modern computer system that monitors engine performance on all heavy trucks, measured unsafe conditions for the vehicle’s operation. “
The team returned defensive fire
and attempted to drive out of the initial ambush site,” acknowledged the State Department’s initial incident spot report (which was written by a Blackwater man in the operations center, but approved by State’s deputy regional security officer before release). “However,” the report continued, “the team command BearCat vehicle was disabled during the attack and could not continue.”

More machine-gun fire cracked against the sides of Blackwater’s trucks.
The convoy radioed Pelzman’s evac team
, insisting they avoid the square. Members of Raven 23 leaped out into the street to attach tow chains to the stricken vehicle.

With added urgency, fellow team members aimed defensive return fire wherever they saw muzzle flashes. Civilians balled up in their cars, crouching behind the seats and covering their children.
A blue Volkswagen sedan
peeled into a U-turn south of the circle, only to have its back windshield shot out.
The vehicle careened
into a nearby bus stand and came to a sudden halt, blood splattered across its interior.

Nick Slatten, a Blackwater sniper
from the third armored vehicle, spied two shooters in the distant tree line and fired twice, hitting one of them.
From the rear vehicle
, Dustin Heard fired as many as ten rounds at a gunman beyond the Kia, striking but not stopping him.
Heard switched to his grenade
launcher and fired a round that exploded with terrible force.

One of our Little Birds arrived overhead to offer better visuals just as the tow chains had been set.
Raven 23 headed for the northwest
corner of the square, our convoy gunners firing at perceived threats as the motorcade finally dragged itself off the X and eventually broke contact altogether.

Blackwater’s men estimated
some eight to ten aggressors had fired at the convoy during those chaotic few minutes in the traffic circle. None
of Raven 23’s team members were injured. The destruction the convoy left behind, however, was absolute: Trees, electric poles, and structures at the southern end of the square had been riddled with bullets. Car upon car had been savaged.
More than three dozen Iraqi civilians
had been shot, eleven of them killed. (Only later would Iraqi authorities claim the casualty toll had risen to seventeen.) The dead reportedly ranged in age from nine to fifty-five, some hit in the back as they attempted to flee the scene, presumably mistaken for retreating insurgents. It was one of the bloodiest incidents of the Iraq War involving security contractors—and quickly became the most publicized.

•   •   •

I
was at home with my family when I first heard about the shooting. An email came through from another company executive mentioning there’d been an incident. Details were still being gathered, I was told, but I should prepare for a long week. In reality, the shooting set off an international whirlwind the likes of which I never could have imagined. It quickly became clear that, by late 2007, it wasn’t just the insurgents who had bull’s-eyes on my men.

Soon after Raven 23 arrived back in the Green Zone, the Diplomatic Security Service conducted interviews with each of the nineteen team members. Per protocol established in a memorandum, “WPPS On-Duty Discharge of Firearm Reporting Procedures,” written by State regional security officer Mark Hunter,
any Blackwater personnel involved
in a shooting incident had to report immediately to the TOC in the palace for a debriefing. As with the Christmas Eve incident from the year before, those interviews—and the sworn written statement each of the men submitted afterward—
were covered under the Garrity
warning.
That warning read
(emphasis mine):

I, _____________, hereby make the following statement at the request of _____________, who has been identified to me as a Special Agent of the U.S. Department of State, Diplomatic Security Service. I
understand that this statement is made in furtherance of an official administrative inquiry regarding potential misconduct or improper performance of official duties and that
disciplinary action, including dismissal from the Department’s Worldwide Personnel Protective Services contract, may be undertaken if I refuse to provide this statement or fail to do so fully and truthfully. I further understand that neither my statements nor any information or evidence gained by reason of my statements can be used against me in a criminal proceeding
, except that if I knowingly and willfully provide false statements or information, I may be criminally prosecuted for that action under 18 United States Code, Section 1001.