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DET ONE: U.S. MARINE CORPS U.S. SPECIAL OPERATIONS COMMAND DETACHMENT, 2003-2006 Piedmont
Cover: Det One prior to deploying to Iraq,

during the Capstone Exercise at Indian

Springs Auxiliary Airfield, Nevada, in

December 2003. Here members are being

briefed before the simulated and live-fire raid

mission. Detachment uniforms, weapons, and

equipment are shown to good advantage.

Photo courtesy of Patrick J. Rogers
DET ONE

U.S. MARINE CORPS

U.S. SPECIAL OPERATIONS

COMMAND DETACHMENT,

2003-2006

U.S. Marines in the

Global War on Terrorism

by

Lieutenant Colonel John P. Piedmont

U.S. Marine Corps Reserve

History Division

United States Marine Corps

Washington, D.C.

2010
ii

Other Publications in the Series

U.S. Marines in the Global War on Terrorism

U.S. Marines in Iraq, 2003: Anthology and Annotated Bibliography

U.S. Marines in Iraq, 2003: Basrah, Baghdad and Beyond

PCN 106 0000 1300
iii

Foreword

The story of the Marine Corps U.S. Special Operations Command Detachment, which became known as Det

One, is an extraordinary tale. On its face, the story would not rate a minute’s glance. One small group of

Marines, about a hundred in number, formed, trained, and went to war. This all happened as the nation was

18 months into the Global War on Terrorism and as the Marine Corps was deploying I Marine Expeditionary

Force in Operation Iraqi Freedom. Yet the story behind the basic facts is not only far more intricate and fascinating, with dramatic episodes and intrepid characters from the Pentagon to Camp Pendleton, it portended

great significance for the Marine Corps.

What makes the Det One story extraordinary is the shift in Marine Corps policy that brought it about, the

maturation of the special operations capabilities of forward-deployed Marine expeditionary units that made it

possible, and the patriotism, valor, fidelity, and abilities of the Marines and Navy Corpsmen who manned it.

Although Det One has passed now into the history books, its legacy survives in the formation of Marine Corps

Special Operations Command and in the lessons learned and experiences of its members, who now continue

to serve in dozens of units.

Lieutenant Colonel John P. Piedmont Marine Field Historian in Iraq in April 2004, saw the historical significance of Det One and decided to pursue its history as a project. Under the director of the History and Museums Division at the time, Colonel John W. Ripley, he was given permission to proceed with his collections

with a view toward turning them into a monograph. What follows here is the culmination of his efforts, the

product of two years’ work, more than 60 interviews done in Iraq, Washington, D.C., Virginia, and California,

and the collection of hundreds of documents. 

Dr. Charles P. Neimeyer

Director of Marine Corps History
iv
v

Preface

The story begins in the chow hall at Camp Fallujah on 30 April 2004. “Look, there’s Colonel Coates,” said

the Marine I was with, pointing to a colonel seated a few tables away from us. “Do you know who he is?”

“No, I don’t,” I replied. “Never heard of him.”“He’s the Det One commanding officer. If they’re here, things

will get interesting.” In fact, things already were as interesting as one might want. The first battle of Fallujah

had reached the now-famous cessation imposed from above. The insurgency soon boiled over, and I Marine

Expeditionary Force (I MEF) had its hands full from Abu Ghraib prison in the east to the Syrian border in the

west.

After I got a quick lecture on Det One, and guessing that Colonel Coates was someone I needed to talk to,

I got up and walked over to him. I introduced myself and told him what I was doing in Iraq and that I’d like

to talk to him if he had the chance. He looked up, paused, and said “send me an email.”

Well, there you have it, I thought to myself. “Send me an email” translated to “forget it, I’ve got other

things to do.” But on second thought, it sounded more like an order than a suggestion, so I did send him an

email, explaining in more detail what I wanted. Much to my surprise, I received an instant reply: “I will enthusiastically support the Marine Corps Historical Program.” And so he has, from that minute on.

Colonel Robert J. Coates, the Marine Corps Special Operations Command Detachment’s first and only commanding officer, was the first Marine I interviewed on the unit. He gave me a good hour in his office at the

I MEF G-3 and provided a detailed view of the unit as it stood then. (As we spoke, it was operating in Baghdad.) He also pointed me to two other Marines who were instrumental in the formation of the detachment,

one of whom, by a fortunate coincidence, was also at Camp Fallujah. 

Lieutenant Colonel J. Giles Kyser IV was then commanding officer of 2d Battalion, 2d Marines. As an action officer at Headquarters Marine Corps, he had overseen the proposal and creation of what became Det

One, a move that reversed nearly 20 years of Marine Corps policy. I spent an enormously informative and

entertaining 90 minutes at his office near the south gate of Camp Fallujah. In his interview, he was remarkably candid, and our conversation helped me not only trace the unit’s development but understand some of

the deeper historical roots behind the relationship between the Marine Corps and Special Operations Command. Kyser told me that if I wanted to understand the nuts and bolts of how and why the unit was established, I needed to speak with Master Gunnery Sergeant Joseph G. Settelen and Master Sergeant Troy G.

Mitchell.

Operational realities then put a stop to my Det One collections until I returned to the United States in July

2004. There, I contacted Settelen and Mitchell and arranged for interviews. Over the course of the next two

years, I interviewed several dozen members of the unit as well as other Marines who had some involvement

in the formation of the unit. The research and the writing together constituted, for me, a priceless professional

military education. I came away with a greater understanding and appreciation for the leaders and thinkers

who formed the modern expeditionary Marine Corps with its singular capabilities and ethos.

Likewise, the Marines of Det One stand out even among their peers. The most significant thing they told

me was that, yes, they were a special operations force, but from first to last they were Marines. From the Corps

they came and to the Corps they did return.

There are several people I must thank for their assistance in the preparation of this history. First and foremost are the Marines of Det One, with special emphasis on Colonel Coates, Lieutenant Colonel Craig S. Kozeniesky, Major Jerry Carter, and Major M. Wade Priddy. All of them—and others who will be mentioned later

in the text—gave me time and attention, fielded repeated follow-on questions, and reviewed drafts of the

manuscript. They gave me “warts and all” access to the Marines of the detachment and to their records and

files.

Without Kyser, Settelen, and Mitchell, none of this would have been possible, both figuratively and literally. It is probably not possible for me to describe Settelen and Mitchell adequately because the details of their
vi

careers will not be known for many years, if at all. Colonel Paul A. Hand told the tale from the point of view

of a Marine inside SOCom and helped me understand the inner workings of that command. 

Commander William W. Wilson, USN, needs to be singled out for special thanks, not only because he gave

me a candid and open interview and answered multiple follow-on questions, but because he is central to the

narrative. The story of Det One probably would have been considerably different were he not involved.

Using his philosophy as a daily guide—“It’s good for SOCom, it’s good for the Corps, and it’s good for the

nation”—he significantly contributed to the success of the first Marine force unit to serve with SOCom.

At the Marine Corps Center for Lessons Learned—the organization formerly known as the EFCAT—several

Marines willingly lent me a hand, both at Quantico and in Iraq: Colonel Monte E. Dunard, Lieutenant Colonel

Jonathan T. Elliott, Lieutenant Colonel Scott Hawkins, Major Mike Dukes, and Colonel Peter A. Dotto. Lieutenant Colonel Mark A. Hashimoto of Marine Forces Pacific also stepped up and sent me volumes of material

and answered questions.

At the History Division, I must thank the late Colonel John W. Ripley, USMC (Ret) and Colonel Nicholas E.

Reynolds who sent me to Iraq and gave me the freedom to operate. Lieutenant Colonel David Kelly (who

came out of retirement and a comfortable life in Philadelphia to go to Iraq), Colonel Nathan S. Lowrey, Lieutenant Colonel David A. Benhoff, Lieutenant Colonel Craig H. Covert, Lieutenant Colonel Kurtis P. Wheeler,

Lieutenant Colonel Jeffrey A. Riley, Major Stephen J. Winslow, and Chief Warrant Officer-3 William E. Hutson

all provided exceptional support in this and so many other matters. Finally, the Chief Historian of the Marine

Corps, Charles D. Melson, a man of boundless knowledge and many facets, helped turn a good idea into a

good product, with admirable assistance from editors Kenneth H. Williams, Gregory A. Macheak, and Wanda

J. Renfrow and designers W. Stephen Hill and Vincent J. Martinez.

John P. Piedmont

Lieutenant Colonel, U.S. Marine Corps Reserve

Quantico, Virginia
vii

Table of Contents

Foreword..................................................................................................................................iii

Preface.......................................................................................................................................v

Table of Contents....................................................................................................................vii

Chapter 1 Concept .................................................................................................................1

Chapter 2 Formation............................................................................................................17

Chapter 3 Training ...............................................................................................................31

Chapter 4 Deployment ........................................................................................................47

Chapter 5 “Ops Normal”......................................................................................................55

Chapter 6 Direct Action .......................................................................................................65

Chapter 7 An-Najaf, “Z,” and Home ...................................................................................79

Chapter 8 A Proven Concept...............................................................................................91

Epilogue...................................................................................................................................99

Notes .....................................................................................................................................101

Appendix A Command and Staff List .................................................................................107

Appendix B Chronology of Significant Events ..................................................................109

Appendix C Lineage and Honors.......................................................................................113

Appendix D Individual Awards ..........................................................................................115

Appendix E Navy Unit Commendation Citation................................................................117

Appendix F Meritorious Unit Commendation ...................................................................119

Index......................................................................................................................................121
viii
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x
1

The Rise of U.S. Special

Operations Command

United States Special Operations Command—USSOCom, or simply SOCom—was formally established

in 1987 by the Nunn-Cohen Act, which amended the

1984 Goldwater-Nichols Defense Reorganization Act.

In the early 1980s, the nation not only faced the Soviet-dominated Warsaw Pact and other major conventional threats, but also a rising tide of terrorism

emanating from radical movements in Europe, as

well as a multitude of religious, ethnic, and political

movements in the Middle East. The new command

arose from the need to maintain capable special operations forces in constant readiness for unconventional warfare and counterterrorism, and to direct and

coordinate their employment. That need had been

bluntly articulated in a 1983 memorandum from Secretary of Defense Caspar W. Weinberger, which stated

that the revitalization of special operations forces

“must be pursued as a matter of national urgency.”1

The legislation that established Special Operations

Command did not merely create a new unified combatant command; it also created a position in the Department of Defense to oversee the policy aspects of

special operations: assistant secretary of defense for

special operations and low intensity conflict. Further,

SOCom was imbued with certain armed service-like

aspects; alone among unified commands, SOCom

was directed to manage its own budgetary stream,

which enabled it not only to acquire special operations-specific equipment, but also to develop and test

that equipment.2 In the years since 1986, this singular authority has provided Special Operations Command the means to equip its forces rapidly with

mission-critical gear, making it the envy of the other

armed services working under the more conventional

acquisition rules.

Once established, the individual armed services

contributed existing special operations units to

SOCom: the Army assigned the Special Forces, the

Rangers, and other units; the Navy assigned the Sea,

Air, and Land (SEAL) teams; while the Air Force contributed its Special Operations Wings, including units

such as the combat search and rescue squadrons and

AC-130 gunships. Among the services, only the Marine Corps did not contribute forces.

There were several reasons that the Marine Corps

made this decision, but the essential point was that

the Marine leadership saw the Corps as a generalpurpose force with inherent special operations capabilities that had to remain flexible in structure and

maritime in nature. To place Marine units under Special Operations Command, or even to place SOCom

itself under the Marines (as one member of Congress

advocated), would have prevented the Corps from

carrying out its primary mission for the national defense—providing maritime expeditionary forces in

readiness. Behind this point was a general unease

that an independent special operations command

might not be a successful venture. The 1980 debacle

at Desert One in Iran was a recent memory, and it left

lingering mistrust among the armed services.* Finally,

Marines viewed themselves as “special” in their own

right and did not see a need to attach themselves to

any command in order to gain in name what they

held in fact.3

The Commandant Looks Inward

The decision not to commit forces to Special Operations Command did not mean that the Marine

Corps did not adhere to the larger special operations

strategy. The October 1983 memorandum from Secretary of Defense Weinberger ordered a comprehensive improvement in the organization and direction of

special operations forces. The memorandum directed

each armed service to “assign special operations

forces and related activities sufficient resource allocation priority.”4 In accordance with these instructions, the Marine Corps leadership examined the

Chapter 1

Concept

* Desert One was the code name for the site inside Iran where in

April 1980 U.S. Air Force transport planes bearing the force for the

rescue of the hostages in Tehran were to transfer them to Navy

helicopters flown by Marines. The helicopters then were to refuel

for the next phase of the operation, dubbed Eagle Claw. Mechanical problems with some of the helicopters and a collision between

a C-130 Hercules and an RH-53D Sea Stallion that killed eight airmen and Marines caused the mission commander to abort. The

failure of the mission and the ensuing congressional investigation

highlighted joint operability issues within the special operations

community and was a primary factor in the creation of Special Operations Command. The debacle at Desert One spawned bitter and

long-lasting recriminations among Army and Air Force personnel

on the mission and the Marines in the helicopter detachment.
issue thoroughly and formed a plan to leverage the

Corps’ existing structure in pursuit of enhanced special operations capabilities. What resulted was the

“special operations capable” or “SOC” program.

On 14 September 1984, the Commandant of the

Marine Corps, General Paul X. Kelley, ordered the

commander of Fleet Marine Force Atlantic (FMFLant),

Lieutenant General Alfred M. Gray, to study Marine

Corps special operations capabilities and recommend

ways to enhance them. A group of officers under

Gray’s direction met at II Marine Amphibious Force

headquarters at Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, from

19 November to 17 December 1984 and produced

“Examination of Marine Corps Special Operations Enhancements.” This document reviewed the historical

aspects of Marines and special operations, discussed

current Marine Corps capabilities, and recommended

options for enhancing those capabilities. The study

group examination is remarkable in several aspects as

it concisely articulated Marine Corps views on special operations and the Marines’ capabilities to conduct them.

The common theme of this study was that Marine

involvement in special operations was a historical

fact, be it by units or by individuals. In the report,

there was some discussion of dedicated Marine special operations units, the Marine Parachutists and

Raiders from World War II, noting that their experiences were not unqualified successes. Indeed, those

units rarely (in the case of the Raiders) or never (in

the case of the Para-Marines) were employed in the

roles for which they were formed. Both were disbanded long before the war’s end, and their Marines

were absorbed into conventional units. Individual

Marines distinguished themselves in the Office of

Strategic Services (OSS) during World War II, then in

Korea, and later in the Studies and Observations

Group in Vietnam. On the other hand, the report

noted that conventionally organized Marine airground task forces routinely conducted certain special operations, most notably noncombatant

evacuation operations (NEOs) and amphibious raids,

“by virtue of organizational flexibility and forwarddeployed posture.”5

In framing its discussions, the study group stated

the Joint Chiefs of Staff’s definition of special operations, which, they noted, had recently changed from

“secondary or supporting operations”—what the examination study called “nebulous guidance”—to the

more decisive definition of “military operations conducted by specially trained, equipped, and organized

Department of Defense forces.”6 The examining

group compiled a list of special missions related to

naval operations and constructed three broad categories of special operations capabilities:

Type A. The capability to conduct special operations tasks such as special purpose raids.

This capability required unique skills, highly

specialized equipment, and training far beyond

that normally provided conventional forces.

The forces involved were small, and were to be

used in operations of short duration.

Type B. The capability to conduct amphibious raids and support other special operations

missions with conventionally organized forces

(normally a unit of company-size) which have

been designated, intensively trained, and

equipped for special operations.

Type C. The capability to conduct amphibious raids, NEO operations, and support of other

special operations missions with a large, conventionally organized and equipped combined

arms force.7

Following the general theme of the background

discussion, the examination study observed that although “certain Marine Corps units have a Type C,

or even B, capability, the study group found no evidence that such capabilities are other than piecemeal.

Some Marine amphibious units can conduct raids;

certain units perform the reconnaissance/surveillance

tasks of special operations; to an extent helicopter

squadrons receive the kind of training required. But,

there is no cohesive approach to special operations.”8

Significantly, the study also considered whether the

Marine Corps would be better served by retooling existing units or by creating something new.

The study group directed the discussion through

the issues of personnel, intelligence, training, logistics, communications and electronics, aviation, command relationships, U.S. Navy perspectives (one

member of the group was a naval officer from the

staff of Second Fleet’s Amphibious Group Two), operations and training, and the nature of hasty versus

preplanned response to a crisis. Given all aforementioned points of reference and discussion, the study

group examined the Marine Corps’ existing special

operations capabilities and came up with seven enhancement options. The underlying conclusions mandated an improvement in the overall training of Fleet

Marine Force units and an immediate, specific improvement in amphibious raid capability.

The study group recommended four of the seven

options for further review and action. The first was to

2 DET ONE
Concept 3

maintain the current Marine amphibious unit structure and achieve Type C capability with one raid

company. The group viewed this option as “the quick

fix,” a way to show action, yet something that “cannot be realized overnight.” The second recommended option was to improve the existing Marine

amphibious unit to a uniform Type C capability and

achieve Type B capability with one raid company.

This option would have required a “quantum jump in

capability and cost.” However, the study noted that

“FMF-wide benefits are manifest: ground and aviation skills would be distributed as Marines rotated to

other units. At the same time, MAUs would be better

prepared to support Type A special operations.”

Option three included the second option with the

addition of the ground element of a small dedicated

Marine special operations unit of roughly 275 men, at

Type A capability, based in the continental United

States rather than forward-deployed.* “When fully capable, which conservatively would take two years,”

the study group explained, “the FMF could provide

Fleet commanders with the complete range of special

operations capabilities.” The study group observed

that “this alternative is appealing because it is all-Marine.”

Option four recommended adopting the second

option and adding to it not a small Type A special

operations unit, but a larger one, in this case roughly

1,000 men, with an aviation squadron containing

Sikorsky CH-53E Super Stallion helicopters and Lockheed C-130 Hercules transport planes. This option,

the study group noted, would probably take three

years to achieve and would be “the most radical approach and extremely costly.” It would contain the

advantages of a smaller force but “would meet the

full spectrum of special operations contingencies.”9

Of the four, the study group favored the last option, “the most radical” as their examination study

called it.10 In doing so, the members of the group

stretched the limits of their guidance since the force

they advocated was a unit potentially capable of duplicating other armed services’ special operations

forces.11 The fourth option was no half measure; it

was an all-or-nothing proposition. It had marked advantages (“provides a highly skilled, substantial airground force that can concentrate solely on special

ops missions”) as well as stark disadvantages (“requires major additional force structure with significant impact on existing USMC structure” and “has

potential for detracting from the FMF’s traditional amphibious role”).12 It also contained the second option,

with its significant implications for the Marine amphibious units.

The special operations capable (SOC) program is

worth examining in detail as it illustrates the growth

of a complementary set of capabilities grounded in

historical Marine roles and missions. Background discussions on the relationship between the Marines and

the special operations community seldom delve into

the intellectual analysis behind the Marines’ decisions

to remain outside the SOCom command structure. As

a result, misconceptions on the special operations capabilities of the Marine Corps persist to the present

and certainly colored the issues surrounding the subject of this narrative. The importance of the special

operations capable program is not only that it significantly enhanced existing Marine Corps forces and

their capabilities, but also that it provided the Marines

a base of individual and organizational skills that

would enable the Corps to rapidly field a unit for

Special Operations Command when the time came

to do so.

Lieutenant General Gray Reports His

Findings

Lieutenant General Gray received the results of the

study group’s examination and on 26 March 1985

submitted his findings on it to Commandant Kelley.

Gray’s findings expanded on points made in the examination study, which were necessarily somewhat

discursive in nature, and placed on them the weight

and imprimatur of the operating forces. In its own

analysis, the report affirmed the examination’s conclusions, among them that the existing Marine airground task force structure provided for a special

operations capability found in no other armed service, by virtue of the “Marine air-ground task force

concept and the well established naval command and

control structure.”13

The methodology in Gray’s Fleet Marine Force Atlantic report was similar to the study group’s examination: the issue in question was stated, delineated,

defined, and discussed through several filters. The report drew seven conclusions and made a three-fold

recommendation: that the Marine Corps held a

unique capability for maritime special operations; that

further developing the capability would have a pos-

* This notional unit bears an interesting resemblance to what

would, 20 years later, become Det One, although it is larger than

Det One. The notes on its conceptual task organization include

some prescient language: “The S-2 support section of this company would be significantly larger than normal staff intelligence

cells and for good reason . . . the unit must be capable of receipt

of near real time intelligence and information, a high degree of

analysis and some fusion capability. ADP [automated data processing] intelligence support will also be necessary to link the unit

to national databases.”
itive effect for the Corps as a whole; and that the

Corps could develop a full-spectrum capability in

consonance with current joint definitions. The report

concluded that the Marine Corps should develop a

specialized maritime strike capability based on existing doctrine; that this capability had to be in line with

the needs of amphibious command relationships; that

any Marine special operations force had to be complementary to existing naval special operations organizations; and finally, that the development of this

capability was a crucial matter, given the world’s

prevalent threats.14

The recommendation of the Fleet Marine Force Atlantic report was that the Marine Corps develop a “viable special operations capability in order to provide

fleet commanders a ‘total response’ capability.” The

three steps needed to achieve this goal were to develop an “updated maritime special operations doctrine;” to provide “additional, standardized training”

for the air-ground task forces; and to create a “dedicated special operations force within FMFLant and

FMFPac to conduct specialized missions requiring

highly skilled forces.” The study group’s preferred

option for an enhanced Marine amphibious unit and

a large, dedicated special operations force of Type-A

capability survived in a somewhat altered form; a different version of it was later offered as one course of

action to the Commandant. The updated doctrine in

the FMFLant report and additional standardized training were fully in line with the study group’s second

option.*

The final paragraph of the report’s cover letter portended a significant change in Marine Corps training,

organization, and capabilities: “The conclusions, recommendations, and implementation proposals, if approved, require an extensive effort to develop a

unique and viable potential that exists within our current MAGTF structure. FMFLant is prepared to immediately initiate and develop this potential.”15

The Commandant Decides

On 27 April 1985, Lieutenant General Gray met

with General Kelley to review the special operations

study group’s findings and Gray’s Fleet Marine Force

Atlantic report. They discussed three options for proceeding with Marine Corps special operations enhancements. The first was to make no change, clearly

not an acceptable alternative given Secretary of Defense Weinberger’s guidance. The second was to “develop a dedicated special operations force,” while the

third was to “make the fleet Marine forces capable of

conducting a wide spectrum of special operations

with their conventional forces.”16

Given that Lieutenant General Gray had stated that

his command was prepared to take action “immediately” on the issue, it is not surprising that he came

with detailed proposals. Gray’s preferred course of

action for a dedicated special operations force was

to create a 1,000-man Marine air-ground task force

complete with ground and aviation combat elements.

He included a timeline for its training cycle, a list of

its overall capabilities, and a scheme for a test bed

unit to validate the concept. The plan for the test unit

was a smaller version of the larger force, a unit of

289 men, with the ground combat element being a

reinforced Marine rifle company and the aviation element made up of four CH-53D or E helicopters. The

pros and cons of the plan echoed what the II Marine

Amphibious Force study group and the Fleet Marine

Force Atlantic report had stated: the dedicated special

operations unit would provide a substantial capability, but it would have significant costs in time, money,

and negative impacts on the Marine Corps’ missions

and structure.17

Lieutenant General Gray also had an alternative

plan: take what the Marine Corps had and improve it.

This plan had two goals. The first was to “standardize/improve a Marine amphibious unit’s capability to

conduct doctrinal special operations.” The second

was to “avoid conflict with missions of other services’

special operations forces.” To address the first goal, a

third Marine amphibious unit would be established

within II Marine Amphibious Force. Training cycles

were to be expanded and standardized and the three

units would be set into a sustained rotation, ensuring

that one was overseas as Landing Force Sixth Fleet,

one was training to take over that mission, and one

was reorganizing for its training cycle, having just returned from deployment. A notional chart showed

this plan at work, with continuous deployments

graphed out into late 1989 and specific units earmarked for service. “The Solution,” as the brief called

it, continued with specifics for training improvements, including but not limited to “command and

staff planning and execution skills required for special operations;” “development of infantry company/platoon skills necessary to provide a raiding

force assault element, covering element, or reserve

element;” and “development of aviation skills necessary for penetration/covert approach, urban operations, and withdrawal.” The plan provided for a

broad and valuable capability, enhanced training

4 DET ONE

* If it appears that both documents took pains to state and restate

conclusions in a ponderous manner, consider that the language

was not used loosely. “Complementary,” “specialized,” “unique,”

and “maritime” were all employed in a manner calculated to state

accurately what the Marine Corps should and should not do.
Concept 5

across the board, and could be accomplished within

the existing structure of the Marine Corps.18

On 7 June 1985 in a memorandum for the record,

General Kelley adopted the plan to enhance Marine

Corps special operations capabilities by improving

the existing structure. He directed Fleet Marine Force

Atlantic to begin the program, using a Marine amphibious unit as the test bed, stating that “this Marine

Amphibious Unit will be tentatively designated as ‘—

Marine Amphibious Unit (Special Operations Capable).’” He included specific guidance on what the

new unit, the “MAU (SOC),” was to accomplish in

terms of optimal organization; a training program focused on the all-important traditional Marine roles;

any force augmentations for special missions beyond

the unit’s normal capabilities; special equipment; and

a concept for operations with “Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC) and/or the other services” on

“occasions when mission requirements dictate.”19

Two weeks later, General Kelley communicated

this initiative in writing to the Joint Chiefs of Staff and,

in a separate message containing the identical text,

to the regional combatant commanders and others,

including the forerunner of SOCom, U.S. Commander

in Chief Special Operations. Both documents clearly

stated what the Marine Corps was undertaking and

why—a comprehensive program to enhance existing

capabilities in order to field a complementary maritime capability—and what it was specifically not

doing: encroaching on the roles and missions of “special purpose organizations such as JSOC, Special

Forces, SEALs or Special Operations Wings.”20

A formal implementation plan followed in November 1986 embodying the experiences of the first

special operations capable Marine amphibious unit.

Continuous refinements and improvements took

place, with the experiences and skills of individual

Marines cross-pollinating the rest of the Fleet Marine

Force as units rotated in and out of the Marine amphibious units’ deployment schedule. The formal

schools of the Marine Corps responded to the requirements of the program, and the rise of special

operations capable units coincided with renewed interest in rigorous professional military education.

There were early instances of close, if unheralded,

cooperation between the Marine Corps and elements

of the new Special Operations Command, validating

the particular role of the special operations capable

Marine amphibious unit in operating with dedicated

special operations forces.* At Camp Lejeune, North

Carolina, the Special Operations Training Group and

2d Force Reconnaissance Company fielded a direct

action force for the commander, U.S. Atlantic Command, known commonly as the “CINC’s In-Extremis

Force.” As the name implied, it existed as a complementary capability for the combatant commander,

available if certain special operations forces from

SOCom could not respond to a crisis. This standing

task force leveraged the particular maritime direct action capability that the Marines developed through

the MAU (SOC) program and was linked directly to

SOCom through its training and evaluation.21

On 5 February 1988, General Gray, who had succeeded General Kelley as Commandant of the Marine Corps, changed the designations of air-ground

task forces. “Amphibious” became “expeditionary,”

heralding both a return to the Marine Corps’ roots

and an emerging philosophical change. General Gray

noted that “the forces which we forward deploy

around the world are not limited to amphibious operations alone.”22 Overnight, the MAU (SOC)s became

MEU (SOC)s.

The decade of the 1990s cataloged a long list of

operations by special operations capable Marine expeditionary units, some of which were undertaken

by MEU (SOC) alone, and some of which were undertaken as part of joint operations. Marines conducted noncombatant evacuations in the Balkans and

Africa, some with the involvement of SOCom units.

The 24th MEU (SOC) rescued downed U.S. Air Force

pilot Captain Scott O’Grady in Bosnia in 1994.23 The

18-month U.S. involvement in Somalia provided a

venue in which virtually every MEU (SOC) capability

was employed, beginning with an amphibious assault

by 15th MEU (SOC) and ending with an amphibious

withdrawal by 24th MEU (SOC). In Somalia during

one deployment in 1993 that totaled just 48 days on

station, 24th MEU (SOC) conducted most of the SOC

mission essential tasks, including multiple amphibious raids by small boats and helicopters; coalition

* One officer who will figure prominently later in this narrative,

Col Paul A. Hand, was a company commander in the 26th MAU

(SOC) in 1987 and remembers the unit working with “a lot of different organizations . . . including guys from Fort Bragg,” an

oblique reference to upper-tier elements of Special Operations

Command. “At the time,” he continued, “the relationship between

JSOC and the Marine Corps couldn’t have been any better . . . The

warfighters had figured out how to make it work.” Hand intvw,

26Aug05 (Marine Corps Historical Center [MCHC], Quantico, VA).

In the same vein were the highly successful maritime operations

mounted by U.S. Central Command under Gen George B. Crist in

the late 1980s employing elements of a MAU (SOC) with elements

of SOCom forces. Gen Crist described the force: “we had really

formed a new thing. It was a raid force that was totally integrated

with the army at night, with the SEALs, with the navy, and hooked

into air force reconnaissance, this little thing. It was a very sleek,

mean little outfit.” Crist intvw, 10Jan89, Gray Research Center,

Quantico, VA.
support operations; tactical recovery of aircraft and

personnel; numerous humanitarian relief missions;

and one direct action raid by the maritime special

purpose force.24

Operation Eastern Exit, the January 1991 evacuation of the U.S. embassy in Mogadishu, Somalia, illustrated how MEU (SOC) training standards had, at

an even relatively early date, permeated the entire

Fleet Marine Force. In the operation, the 4th Marine

Expeditionary Brigade, afloat in the Arabian Sea for

Operation Desert Shield, rapidly task-organized a

small force to begin the evacuation of the embassy

while the ships of the amphibious ready group closed

the 450-mile distance. Every element of the operation was rooted in MEU (SOC) doctrine and experience: rapid and effective command and staff actions;

a helicopter detachment that flew a task-organized

force (including nine Navy SEALs) over open water at

night, refueling in air more than once; and well-executed actions on the ground that accomplished a

highly sensitive mission.25

The decade of the 1990s, however, also marked a

decline in relations between the Marine Corps and

Special Operations Command. A chasm developed

between the Marine Corps and the special operations

community that widened year by year. Although

many Marines served in individual billets in SOCom

and performed well, there was little or no interoperability between the theater special operations commands and the deployed MEU (SOC)s. “Love the

Marines, hate the Marine Corps” attitudes persisted,

often reciprocated from within the Corps. A servicelevel link, the SOCom/USMC board, which could and

should have identified and fostered several points of

common interest, lapsed into dormancy around 1996,

severing all cooperation on acquisitions, training, and

operations. Early unit-level initiatives such as joint operations between elements of SOCom and the deploying MAU (SOC)s and the Camp Lejeune-based

CINC’s In-Extremis Force also ended. By the onset of

the 21st century, the U.S. Marine Corps and U.S. Special Operations Command were no longer institutionally engaged.

11 September 2001: The Landscape Changes

In the summer of 2001, Lieutenant Colonel J. Giles

Kyser IV assumed the duties of head of the Marine

Air Ground Task Force (MAGTF) special operations

section in Plans, Policies and Operations at Headquarters Marine Corps. His position encompassed all

things related to the MEU (SOC) program as well as

all things related explicitly and implicitly to special

operations. He was well suited for the task. In addition to a standard infantry career, he had served as

operations officer of 2d Air Naval Gunfire Liaison

Company and executive officer of 2d Force Reconnaissance Company. While a student at the U.S.

Army’s Advanced Infantry Officer Course, Kyser had

met several Army Special Forces and Ranger officers.

He found that he, as a Marine officer, was much more

at home with them than he was with his more conventional army counterparts. Among other things,

Kyser recognized that their thoughts on approaching,

analyzing, and conducting missions were closely

aligned with Marine Corps thinking.

Lieutenant Colonel Kyser’s subsequent staff tour at

Special Operations Command Europe (SOCEur) exposed him to a special operational environment and

confirmed the opinions he had formed at the Army’s

advanced course. One of the first things he learned

was that for Marines working in special operations,

personal relationships were essential. The people on

the other side needed to get the measure of an individual Marine and trust him; once that acceptance

was in place, the possibilities for joint operations

grew dramatically. Kyser observed special operations

forces in Europe operating in task-organized units not

unlike Marine air-ground task forces but yet lacking

the synergistic integrity of the Marine organizations.

This experience implanted in his mind the idea that

the Marine Corps had something concrete to offer

Special Operations Command, namely a self-contained, task-organized air-ground force capable of a

wide range of missions and imbued with an expeditionary, combined arms ethos. 

By the late summer of 2001 while assigned to

Plans, Policies and Operations at Headquarters Marine Corps, Lieutenant Colonel Kyser worked on the

reinvigoration of the dormant training relationship

between the MEU (SOC)s and SOCom, which had

6 DET ONE

Photo by Maj John P. Piedmont

LtCol J. Giles Kyser, shown here in May 2004 as commanding officer, 2d Battalion, 2d Marines, in Camp

Fallujah, Iraq. As MAGTF Special Operations action

officer at HQMC from 2001 to 2003, he oversaw the

creation of the first Marine force contribution to

SOCom, the unit that would become MCSOCOM Det

One.
Concept 7

lain fallow for several years. At that time no one contemplated, much less advocated, a step as radical as

contributing Marine forces to SOCom.* The task at

hand was simply to reengage the special operations

community for the mutual benefit of the Marine

Corps and Special Operations Command. But, as

Kyser later pointed out, “the complexion of that landscape changed dramatically on September 11th.”26

Lieutenant Colonel Kyser Goes to Tampa

Shortly after the attacks on 11 September 2001,

Lieutenant General Emil R. Bedard, deputy commandant for plans, policies, and operations (PP&O), directed Lieutenant Colonel Kyser to go to Special

Operations Command headquarters in Tampa,

Florida, and begin repairing the long-broken relationship. His mission was to reestablish the moribund

SOCom-USMC Board. Kyser’s first act was to check in

with the senior Marine in SOCom, Colonel Paul A.

Hand, who only a few months before had written an

“it’s-a-good-idea-but” answer in Marine Corps Gazette

against establishing a Marine Corps force within

SOCom. Hand was an infantry officer with a conventional background—company command in a

MAU (SOC), Amphibious Warfare School, Command

and Staff College, battalion command—but no Marine reconnaissance or Special Operations Command

experience. Hand regarded his background as an

asset rather than a limitation. Although he reported to

SOCom, Hand had received instructions from Bedard

similar to Kyser’s: improve the relationship; get the

SOCom-USMC board going again; find ways to work

together. These efforts were underway before the attacks of 11 September, but those momentous events

hastened the progress.

Lieutenant Colonel Kyser next went to see

SOCom’s director of operations, plans, and policies,

U.S. Army Major General Eldon A. Bargewell, for

whom he had worked during his SOCEur days and

with whom he had excellent personal rapport. Kyser

discussed with Bargewell the probability that as the

war on terrorism progressed over what promised to

be a long time, there would be opportunities for

more cooperation between Marine units and special

operations forces, based primarily on the Marine Expeditionary Units’ forward presence and unique capabilities. He knew what the Marines could offer

special operations forces in the prosecution of the

war on terrorism and was determined to make the

case.

During the fall of 2001 and early winter of 2002,

Lieutenant Colonel Kyser became a shuttle diplomat,

with one week in Washington and the next week in

Tampa. He found willing allies inside Special Operations Command and ran into ironclad opposition

there, too. The same was true at Headquarters, U.S.

Marine Corps. Colonel Hand was busy shepherding

the placement of two Marine officers in the SOCom

operations center. Shortly after 9/11, Lieutenant General Bedard had asked his counterpart at SOCom

what immediate assistance the Marine Corps could

provide. The answer was intelligence officers. The

Marine Corps offered two, and SOCom accepted. Entrenched anti-Marine attitudes in SOCom resurfaced,

however, and the two Marine officers waited with

bags packed until the highest levels of the SOCom

command structure cleared the way for them to be

assigned.27 Ultimately, the two were so successful that

they proved what might be called Hand’s corollary

to Kyser’s law of Marine and special operations relations: get good Marines in, let them go to work, and

everything else will work out.

Lieutenant Colonel Kyser found that the prevailing argument inside Special Operations Command

against any Marine Corps force contribution ran along

old familiar lines: “You [Marines] have your box, we

have our box, stay the hell out. . . . You decided back

in 1986 you didn’t want to play.”28 But the facts were

that the SOCom and Marine Corps “boxes” had no

significant points of connection, no places where the

one’s capabilities could be set to cover the other’s

limitations.

Anti-SOCom attitudes within the Marine Corps

were just as entrenched, and in light of the events of

9/11, every bit as outdated. As recently as the spring

of 2001, an unsolicited offer by Joint Special Operations Command to work more closely again with the

deployed Marine expeditionary units foundered.29

The Marine refrain that Lieutenant Colonel Kyser

often heard was that “we don’t need special operations forces, we can do it ourselves, there’s nothing

they can do that we can’t do.” From Kyser’s own

knowledge of SOCEur units in action, he knew this

argument simply was not true. SOCom’s training

processes and resources provided for capabilities that

the Marine Corps did not possess. Kyser recalled in

2004 that “all of the bravado and all of the talk in the

world didn’t change the facts: enthusiasm does not

equal capability.”30 He also had to face age-old Marine arguments against contributing forces: if the Ma-

* The Marine Corps Gazette printed a brief exchange on a Marine

force contribution to Special Operations Command in the April

and July 2001 issues. The proposal for a force contribution was

written by a student at Amphibious Warfare School; the riposte,

detailing why a force contribution was not in the interests of the

Marine Corps, was written by Col Hand, the chief of the training

division at SOCom’s center for operations, plans, and policies.
rine Corps gives a unit to SOCom, they will have lost

control of it and will never get it back, and such a

commitment will bleed the Corps of high-value

Marines.*

In time, Lieutenant Colonel Kyser would turn all

these arguments upside down, but the task at hand

was to seize a beachhead, to gain a foothold with his

audience. The objective was the SOCom/USMC

board; the Marine Corps needed to engage SOCom

institutionally, on a broad front, on everything from

MEU (SOC)/theater special operations interoperability to equipment acquisitions to intelligence support.

In the days before 11 September, interoperability between deployed MEU (SOC)s and theater special operations forces was never put to a true test, although

an event like Operation Noble Obelisk, the 1997 noncombatant evacuation in Sierra Leone conducted

jointly with special operations forces, proved that

working together was not only possible but operationally enhancing. This operation, however, was the

exception to the rule. That state of affairs may have

been lamentable, but too few decision makers saw it

as a potentially fatal weakness. Following 9/11, an

entirely different light shone on the issue. The emerging fact was that in a war in which special operators

had a leading role, the dysfunctional relationship between Special Operations Command and the Marine

Corps threatened not only to keep the Marines’ role

in the shadows but also to deprive the nation of the

well-refined capabilities of Marine expeditionary

forces.

The Commandant Changes Course

By the end of 2001, Lieutenant Colonel Kyser’s

shuttle diplomacy and Colonel Hand’s internal pressure were showing signs of success. Applying the lessons learned from their careers, they leveraged

previous personal relationships to build new ones.

Kyser in particular had a small network of allies and

supporters wearing several uniforms who kept him

abreast of developments and attitudes across the

armed services and Special Operations Command.

More importantly, they soon had in hand a memorandum of agreement, signed on 9 November 2001 by the

Commandant, General James L. Jones Jr., and the commander of SOCom, General Charles R. Holland. This

memorandum resurrected the SOCom-USMC Board

and paved the way for a greater level of cooperation.

In the first week of January 2002, Lieutenant

Colonel Kyser briefed General Jones and selected

senior officers as a preparation for the first SOComUSMC board scheduled to begin shortly thereafter.

He wanted the Commandant’s approval before he

proceeded. Kyser discussed the plan for engaging

Special Operations Command across a range of issues, including logistics, aviation, and others. As he

recalled, when the brief concluded, the Commandant

expressed approval of what he had heard and seen,

then sat back and said, “If we really want to show

that we are committed to this, we need to think about

committing some forces to SOCom.”31 The remark

was a complete reversal of the long-held Marine

Corps position.

In fact, General Jones had made an early offer of

a Marine force to Special Operations Command in the

immediate aftermath of 9/11. He called General Holland at SOCom and offered him a force reconnaissance platoon. Holland instructed the Naval Special

Warfare flag officer in charge of SOCom’s resources

and requirements directorate to talk with Colonel

Hand and figure out exactly what Jones’s offer meant.

Hand received a phone call from Lieutenant General

Bedard confirming the offer and then began answering the multitude of questions from SOCom.32 How

this initial offer was examined and handled foreshadowed the later discussions of a larger force contribution and revealed how things might have turned

out differently in one major respect.

Shortly after the first SOCom-USMC board meeting in January 2002, Colonel Hand briefed Special

Operations Command general officers on General

Jones’s offer of a force reconnaissance platoon. Army

Special Operations Command and Naval Special Warfare Command debated where the unit would best

fit. Both groups made good cases. Hand remembered

that the commander of Naval Special Warfare immediately voiced the opinion that the Marine unit should

align with the Navy, due to its maritime roots. The

commander of Army Special Operations disagreed.

Hand made no move in either direction but in retrospect said this was the first and best opportunity for

the Marine Corps to have jumped ship and cast its lot

with the U.S. Army Special Operations Command.33

Lieutenant Colonel Kyser took General Jones’s instructions not just as an order to devise a Marine

force contribution to Special Operations Command,

but to have it ready for the first SOCom-USMC board.

Fortunately for Kyser, he was a step ahead, having

come to the conclusion that autumn that SOCom’s

tasks in the emerging war on terrorism eventually

would outstrip its capabilities. He had a clear idea

8 DET ONE

* These two objections had been raised before, even long before

the founding of Special Operations Command. For an interesting

discussion of the deeper historical roots of the issue, see Maj

Robert E. Mattingly, USMC, Herringbone Cloak—GI Dagger:

Marines of the OSS (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Marine Corps History

and Museums Division, 1989).
Concept 9

that the Marine Corps could fairly quickly field a

unit—more than a force reconnaissance platoon—

that would alleviate the troop-to-task burden and

cover some of the missions in which SOCom units

were engaged. Better still, Kyser had two Marines

working for him who also knew SOCom from the inside and who could sit down and turn out a wellcrafted and well-reasoned proposal.

The Marines Come Up With a Plan

Master Gunnery Sergeant Joseph G. Settelen III 

was the MAGTF special operations chief, working for

Lieutenant Colonel Kyser. Before the attacks on 11

September, he was involved in the Reconnaissance

Operational Advisory Group, commonly termed the

“fix recon initiative,” which General Jones had established to restore Marine reconnaissance units to a position where their particular skills and training could

best be used in support of the Marine operating

forces.34

Settelen enlisted in the early 1980s as an infantry

Marine. He moved into the reconnaissance field in

1987 and served with 2d Force Reconnaissance Company. In 1997 he left the Corps for a classified billet,

returning in 2000 as a master sergeant and was assigned to the special operations section at Headquarters Marine Corps. He was as uniquely qualified

and fortuitously placed as Lieutenant Colonel Kyser

to deal with these issues. Settelen understood the operational aspects of Special Operations Command from personal experience, knew Marine operations,

and was fully cognizant of the current state of the

Marine reconnaissance community.

Master Sergeant Troy G. Mitchell was also an original member of the fix recon initiative. He had served

in several reconnaissance units and, like Settelen, had

done a “dark side” tour with SOCom. He had been

selected in February 2000 specifically for the Reconnaissance Operational Advisory Group and was fully

engaged with that program when Kyser called on Settelen and him to draw up a plan for the first Marine

unit to be assigned to SOCom.35

The two questions governing the size and shape

of the still-unformed unit were what would it look

like, and how quickly could it be formed? Lieutenant

Colonel Kyser knew that Special Operations Command would not want any more of what they already

had. What SOCom needed was something different—

a Marine air-ground task force, a flexible, powerful

unit that would be so much more than the sum of its

parts. But a full-scale task force needed too much

support across the Marine Corps. Kyser, Settelen, and

Mitchell determined that a task force without the aviation combat element was an answer to the requirement and was doable. As Kyser put it, “What I

MGySgt Joseph G. Settelen III, the MAGTF and Special

Operations Chief at HQMC. Working under LtCol

Kyser’s direction and using his extensive knowledge of

both the Marine reconnaissance field and the special

operations community, he and MSgt Troy G. Mitchell

designed the structure and manning of Det One.

Photo by Maj John P. Piedmont

Photo by Maj John P. Piedmont

MSgt Troy G. Mitchell, the reconnaissance field monitor at Manpower Division, HQMC. He found the

“structure,” the actual manpower billets, that could

be drawn from existing units to stand up Det One.

Not only did he find the structure, he helped craft the

requirements for each reconnaissance Marine. 
wanted was a uniquely Marine unit that was self-sufficient and could be employed on its own . . . that

was focused on special operations mission areas that

we had capability in today, right now.”36 Looking

back on his time in SOCEur, he identified four mission areas where this unit could make an immediate

contribution: direct action, special reconnaissance,

foreign internal defense, and coalition support.

According the Department of Defense dictionary,

direct action is defined as “short-duration strikes and

other small-scale offensive actions conducted as a

special operation in hostile, denied, or politically sensitive environments and which employ specialized

military capabilities to seize, destroy, capture, exploit,

recover, or damage designated targets. Direct action

differs from conventional offensive actions in the

level of physical and political risk, operational techniques, and the degree of discriminate and precise

use of force to achieve specific objectives.” Special

reconnaissance comprises “reconnaissance and surveillance actions conducted as a special operation in

hostile, denied, or politically sensitive environments

to collect or verify information of strategic or operational significance, employing military capabilities not

normally found in conventional forces. These actions

provide an additive capability for commanders and

supplement other conventional reconnaissance and

surveillance actions.” Foreign internal defense is defined as “participation by civilian and military agencies of a government in any of the action programs

taken by another government or other designated organization to free and protect its society from subversion, lawlessness, and insurgency.” Coalition

support involved the provision of personnel and

equipment to allied forces to assist them with integrating their operations into the U.S. command and

control system, and gaining access to supporting

arms.37 The Marine Corps had an excellent record of

coalition support capabilities due in large part to units

like its air and naval gunfire liaison companies (ANGLICOs).

The prospective Marine unit for Special Operations

Command needed to be able to operate alone, with

conventional forces, with other special operations

units, with foreign units, or with any combination

thereof. It needed to have particular intelligence capabilities. Task organization would be its strength;

combined arms would be its operating principle.

Lieutenant Colonel Kyser called in Master Gunnery

Sergeant Settelen and Master Sergeant Mitchell and

told them to design a unit that fit these criteria. Settelen remembers Kyser giving Mitchell and him the

task at about 1100 one day, to be due at 1600: five

hours to construct a unit completely from scratch,

one that would need to be drawn “out of hide,” taken

from the existing Marine Corps structure, be able to

deploy and operate on its own, and that would offer

SOCom something it did not have. The finished proposal would go straight to Lieutenant General Bedard. Settelen and Mitchell put about 40 years of

combined knowledge to work in the cafeteria of the

Navy Annex with butcher-block paper, pencils, and a

pot of coffee.38 Three hours later they emerged with

a plan and handed it to Kyser. 

In some respects, the unit Settelen and Mitchell

conceptualized was a special-purpose Marine airground task force without the aviation. It had a reconnaissance platoon and a robust support structure,

including a large intelligence element. In other ways,

the unit was like MEU (SOC)’s maritime special-purpose force, although much more capable. It had organic fires, radio reconnaissance, and

counterintelligence sections, areas in which the Marine Corps possessed special skills, as well as the necessary staff sections that would enable it to conduct

stand-alone operations. Settelen and Mitchell not only

wrote down rough numbers and organization, they

filled in the ranks and military occupational specialties for each billet. They designed the unit to be

manned by senior Marines with many years of service and several deployments, not enthusiastic firsttermers. They also intended for its members to rotate

in and out of the unit and back to the regular Marine

Corps, thereby addressing the old concern that the

Corps would lose high-value Marines forever. In Settelen’s words, the unit would be a “900-pound gorilla that could do surgery.”39

The original Settelen-Mitchell plan showed a unit

of around 110 Marines and sailors. Word came back

quickly that 110 was too many, so the two Marines

pared the number to 86 but advised that they were

cutting into the support functions that would gird the

unit’s core capabilities.* As Settelen pointed out,

“When you get into logistics and planning, you have

to have specialists, and they don’t all do the same

job, so we knew support-wise we were going to

need some tail to [go with] the teeth.”40

Although the unit was conceptually a Marine airground task force, aviation was conspicuous by its

absence. Kyser, Settelen, and Mitchell knew that aviation personnel and equipment pipelines, especially

for a special operations unit, were so tightly scripted,

10 DET ONE

* Settelen and Mitchell knew what they were talking about. Det

One, when it deployed in April 2004, mounted out at 99 strong.

Augmentations came during the training phase when it became

apparent that the modified structure of 86 was too slim.
Concept 11

and due to the “naval” nature of the aviation force—

not completely under Marine control— that trying to

include an aviation combat element in the unit would

cripple its chances to form up quickly, train, and deploy. Kyser forwarded the recommended unit structure to General Jones, who gave his assent

immediately. From idea to concept to rough plan in

remarkably short order, Kyser had in hand an organization he could present to SOCom.

Special Operations Command Reacts

Rough plan in hand, Lieutenant Colonel Kyser

traveled to Special Operations Command headquarters in Tampa in late January 2002 for the first

SOCom-USMC board. In front of the future concepts

working group of the board, he laid out a presentation of SOCom missions and other activities and

showed how, if under a reasonable assumption that

its task load increased, its tasks would soon surpass

its capabilities. In his words, “SOCom would run out

of Schlitz.”41 Without a pause, Kyser continued with

one small step for a Marine but one giant leap for the

Corps: “In the Marine Corps, we have some forces

that can do some of these specific things.” “Immediately,” he said, “red star clusters went up—‘No! You’re

not SOF! You can’t do these things!’” Kyser patiently

answered, “Well, look, I think we can.” And he proceeded to show how.

Lieutenant Colonel Kyser, Master Gunnery Sergeant Settelen, and Master Sergeant Mitchell knew the

special operations world as well as the SOCom people did. They had anticipated the objections and were

ready to counter each one. Kyser fired back with a

counter barrage of logical arguments. His offer to

provide a ready-built force that would take on four

mission areas—direct action, special reconnaissance,

coalition support, and foreign internal defense—and

relieve other SOCom units to focus on more pressing

missions proved persuasive. Arguments old and new

against a Marine unit in SOCom would continue to

arise during the following months, but Kyser had

made his point. He had his beachhead.

Both Colonel Hand at SOCom and Lieutenant

Colonel Kyser at Headquarters Marine Corps drafted

summaries of the minutes of the board meeting.

Drafting was one thing; releasing was another. According to both officers, they wrote and rewrote their

summaries several times, only to have them sat upon

at SOCom. It took four months until SOCom released

the executive summary in May 2002.* On a positive

note, the summary specified leveraging the “unique

capabilities of each organization” and pushing forward with interoperability between forward-deployed

MEU (SOC)s and special operations forces based in

the U.S. and overseas. On the less positive side from

the Kyser/Hand point of view, the executive summary referred to the Marine force contribution as

“possible,” “notional,” and “a pilot program.”

In discussions that followed between Colonel

Hand and Lieutenant Colonel Kyser about the nature

of the Marine unit, Hand, remembering General

Jones’s earlier offer of a single force reconnaissance

platoon, wanted to keep the unit simple and small.

He wanted to send it right out to whatever component of SOCom was going to sponsor it and get it operating, believing that the operator-level relations

would be a runaway success and that a small force

would be more workable. Instead, Kyser’s plan won

the day; the Marine force contribution to SOCom was

to be more than one platoon of reconnaissance

Marines.42

Once again, Lieutenant Colonel Kyser shuttled between Headquarters Marine Corps and Special Operations Command much as he had done the previous

fall. He and Colonel Hand were busy not only with

selling the force contribution, but also with shepherding all the initiatives between the Marines and

SOCom. As they worked trying to sell the individual

service components on the potential of the Marine

force contribution, Kyser still had his network of

sources telling him who was saying what about the

Marine unit and taking bets on when it was going to

be killed off and on who would deliver the blow.

The SEALs Volunteer to Help

It was plain to Colonel Hand and Lieutenant

Colonel Kyser that the center of gravity of opposition

to any Marine force contribution was Naval Special

Warfare. Some individual SEALs were receptive, but

their command appeared to be institutionally opposed.43 A portion of the opposition was rooted in

fierce protection of roles and missions, and therefore

funding, a reaction common to every service. The

SEALs had built a substantial special operations capability on their own over the course of decades and

were justifiably proud of it. But protectionism was

not the only factor in SEAL opposition; there also was

a persistent institutional memory of the 1987 decision. According to the SEALs, the Marines did not

want a part of SOCom then, and they should not be

* Col Hand achieved the release through another direct personal

appeal to Special Operations Command leadership. As the weeks

went by and the minutes of the meeting went unsigned, he received phone calls from LtGen Bedard asking pointed questions

about the document. Hand eventually went to see MajGen Eldon

Bargewell and told him bluntly that not releasing the minutes was

“destroying my reputation.” Hand intvw, 26Aug05 (MCHC).
given a part of it now. That viewpoint suggested an

equally persistent and widespread misunderstanding

of what the Marines had to offer—a unique, complementary capability instead of a tardy knock-off—an

issue that dated back at least to 1987, if not earlier.*

Determined to press ahead and not let anyone kill

the issue with delaying tactics, Lieutenant Colonel

Kyser wanted the future concepts working group to

meet again as soon as possible to discuss the force

contribution. But, as he recalled, Naval Special Warfare unexpectedly proposed that it act as executive

agent within Special Operations Command to handle

the issue—the Marines are a naval force, the SEALs

are a naval force; there is a natural marriage.44

(Colonel Hand had experienced the same line of reasoning when he had discussed General Jones’s offer

of a force reconnaissance platoon.) To Kyser, the

Navy position was not the welcome development it

first appeared to be. He remembered Machiavelli’s

dictum to keep your friends close but your enemies

closer. Kyser and Hand reckoned that Naval Special

Warfare wanted to gather the Marine unit under its

wing not to grow it, but to kill it, or at the very least

force it to serve its purposes. Both counseled against

accepting the proposal.

Lieutenant Colonel Kyser and Colonel Hand, however, also knew that in Special Operations Command,

the commander and the chiefs of the individual components (including Joint Special Operations Command) made the key decisions in council and that

the votes might not be in the Marines’ favor. Kyser

and his team calculated that the commander of

SOCom was on their side, and by extension the head

of Air Force Special Operations Command. Army

Special Operations Command was a maybe. The Joint

Special Operations Command and Naval Special Warfare were thought to be opponents. “So we figured

we got two definite yes’s and two that could possibly

be no’s,” Kyser recalled, “and in order to get Naval

Special Warfare to allow this thing to go forward, we

said OK, we’ll go ahead and acquiesce to this.”45

Kyser thought they could have swayed Army Special

Operations Command or Joint Special Operations

Command and thus gotten what they wanted without

the Naval Special Warfare’s approval, but they decided to cast their lot with the SEALs. So Naval Special Warfare was designated as SOCom’s executive

agent regarding the issue of a force contribution from

the Marine Corps.

In March 2002, Colonel Hand and Lieutenant

Colonel Kyser were invited to a meeting at Coronado, California, home of Naval Special Warfare, for

further discussions on the nature of the force contribution. Hand called the meeting “The Coronado Accords.” For both officers, it was soon clear what the

agenda was going to be. “One of the first things they

wanted to do was take us in and give us the training

film on BUDS,” Kyser remembered. “The message

was clear: ‘You’re not special operations forces.’. . .

Then we got a briefing from one of their teams that

had been in Afghanistan on individual initiative, creativity, and small-unit leadership. Those were the

strengths of special operations forces. The unspoken

message was, ‘they’re certainly not your strengths.’”46

Nevertheless, Hand and Kyser pressed ahead,

briefing Lieutenant Colonel Kyser’s plan and maintaining the Marine Corps’ position on what the force

would look like, what it would do, and what it would

not do. It was evident that the SEALs liked the support and staff functions but not the platoon of reconnaissance Marines. The urge to treat the unit’s

support and staff capabilities as a toolbox for higher

headquarters would become a critical matter up to

and through its deployment in 2004.

Finding the Money in the Marine Corps

With Colonel Hand and Lieutenant Colonel Kyser

fighting the deep battle, they handed the close fight

to Master Gunnery Sergeant Settelen and Master Sergeant Mitchell. Settelen and Mitchell had put together

a well-reasoned and detailed proposal, but the time

had come to turn it into an executable plan. There

were plenty of questions to answer at Headquarters

Marine Corps. What was the table of organization?

What was the table of equipment? Who was going to

pay for it? Where were these Marines coming from,

and how would they be selected? The Marine Corps

had not formed a new unit in years. Settelen and

Mitchell had their work cut out for them, as every

man and every penny was going to have to come out

of the existing Marine Corps structure.

The two Marines took what they had done and

quickly filled in the detail to get an idea of what the

Marines in the new unit would require to accomplish

their missions. What would each Marine need to

carry? What would the reconnaissance teams need?

What would the radio reconnaissance teams need?

What sort of equipment would the intelligence element require? As the answers emerged, Settelen and

Mitchell realized that some of the gear the unit would

12 DET ONE

* Paradoxically, when Col Melvin G. Spiese was assigned to Special Operations Command in 1995 to serve in approximately the

same billet Col Hand would fill later, he had found that Naval Special Warfare personnel were among those most receptive to greater

cooperation with the Marine Corps—and some of those most opposed to it were Marines. Spiese intvw, 16May05 (MCHC).
Concept 13

need to work in the special operations realm, primarily weapons and communications equipment, was

not anything that could be found within the Marine

Corps. Special Operations Command was not going

to give it to them; part of the bargain struck by the

Marine Corps and SOCom was that the Marines

would fund the unit’s start-up costs. The price tag

was going to be substantial, and many of the acquisitions would have to be made outside the normal

supply channels.

Master Gunnery Sergeant Settelen tackled the table

of equipment and the budget.47 Although he had experience at Marine Corps Systems Command, the

Corps’ acquisitions branch, he did not know the first

thing about creating a table of equipment, or a

budget on this scale. He cast around for help. When

he called Installations and Logistics, “I didn’t get a lot

of love over there,” Settelen recalled, noting that Installations and Logistics had to worry about supporting and sustaining the whole Marine Corps instead

of just one strange new unit. So Settlelen looked elsewhere. At Marine Corps Combat Development Command he found Mr. Robert Merle, the expert on tables

of equipment. Settelen’s previous experience in Marine Corps Systems Command began to weigh in on

the acquisitions end. At Programs and Resources at

Headquarters Marine Corps he found Mary Cooney,

who taught him how to do an entire budget submission package and then served as his sanity check. She

looked for fat and redundancy and made sure that

the numbers made sense. As Settelen compiled the

budget, he estimated that it would cost $17 million to

put the unit together. Including the deployment

phase, down to airlift in and out of theater, he put

the final price tag at $27 million.48

Master Sergeant Mitchell handled the table of organization. Working within the limits of the original

86-man structure, he had to balance the needs of

teeth and tail, to build enough structure to support

the operating elements—enough, but no extra. It was

his job to find the billets and take them out of someone else’s unit; as he put it, “It hurt other units to

stand up this Det.”49 Billets and structure eventually

meant real people, in this case high-value senior

Marines who were going to be taken out of units that

needed them.

Lieutenant Colonel Kyser Keeps the

Pressure On

Meanwhile, Lieutenant Colonel Kyser and Colonel

Hand were advancing on multiple lines. Since they

had been the subjects of widespread opposition to

any Marine involvement in Special Operations Command, they believed that they could mount a broad

counteroffensive to get their points across. Kyser

called it “an assault from all different quarters.” He

began lobbying the office of assistant secretary of defense for special operations and low intensity conflict, Michael A. Westphal, a former Marine, not only

to garner Department of Defense-level support for

the prospective Marine unit, but also to show broad

progress in increasing the Marine Corps’ ties with

SOCom beyond a force contribution.

Lieutenant Colonel Kyser wrote the Marine Corps’

response to a Department of Defense study on the

future of special operations forces, demonstrating that

the Marines were supporting several SOCom initiatives and programs and contributing to the effort.*50

As of July 2002, Kyser was able to detail several areas

in which the Marine Corps was directly providing

help to SOCom. “Some of the support,” he noted,

“has historical precedence and some is a direct reflection of actions taken since September 11th [2001].”

Among the contributions were approximately 100

Marines filling billets directly supporting the Special

Operations Command; liaison officers to SOCom and

SOCCent for operational and planning assistance; operations by Task Force 58 (the 15th and 26th MEU

[SOC]s) in Afghanistan, including tactical recovery of

aircraft and personnel, close air support, and providing quick reaction forces; and Marine KC-130 support

to Task Force-160, the Army’s special operations aviation unit. SOCom apparently deemed continued KC130 support so important that it had been mentioned

in the executive summary of the first SOCom-USMC

board. 51

Lieutenant Colonel Kyser also honed his approach

to Naval Special Warfare. He used a senior SEAL officer assigned to the Pentagon with whom he had

served before as his sounding board to craft the arguments the Marine Corps would offer in discussions

concerning the unit’s prospective deployment and

employment overseas.

Colonel Hand was working to get the first Marine

general officer, Brigadier General Dennis J. Hejlik, assigned to Special Operations Command. Although

not directly related to the establishment of the Marine force for SOCom, the assignment of a Marine

general to the command would signify that the

Marines had not only landed but were not going

* When speaking of this period later in 2004, LtCol Kyser used an

example from the commanding general, 1st MarDiv: “Gen Mattis

likes to talk about how it’s difficult for a man to hate you when

you’ve just handed him a cold bottle of water and it’s 150 degrees

outside. Well, it’s difficult to make an argument against the Marine

Corps being part of SOCom when at the same time we’re providing assistance.” Kyser intvw, 25May04 (MCHC).
away. This assignment, like the placement of the two

intelligence officers after 9/11, was delayed until

Hand received a phone call from Lieutenant General

Bedard asking whether SOCom really wanted a general officer. Tired of the delays, Hand went right up

the chain-of-command at Tampa and got a final, affirmative answer.52

History Offers a Lesson

During the fall of 2002, Lieutenant Colonel Kyser

and his team traveled to Camp Pendleton, California,

and met with senior representatives from the intelligence, fire support, and reconnaissance communities. They went through several hundred record

books and selected the people they wanted for the

new unit.53 For the commanding officer they recommended Lieutenant Colonel Robert J. Coates, recent

commander of 1st Force Reconnaissance Company

and at the time head of I Marine Expeditionary

Force’s Special Operations Training Group (SOTG).

Coates had a strong, positive reputation in the Marine Corps as well as in the special operations community. He had served in El Salvador in the 1980s as

an advisor and later with other government agencies.

As Lieutenant Colonel Kyser noted, “We discussed

five or six different names, but every time, we came

back to Lieutenant Colonel Coates. . . . Nobody could

question this man’s credentials. Nobody. He was exactly the right guy at exactly the right time to put in

charge of this.”54

To ensure the longevity of the unit, it needed a

lineage, according to Lieutenant Colonel Kyser. With

the permission of the Marine Raider Association, he

decided to put the raider patch at the bottom of the

detachment’s logo. Kyser saw that there was an “undeniable parallel” between the Marine Raiders of

World War II and the new unit.55 By tying his unit historically to the Marine Raiders, he sought to evoke

their role as a selectively trained and equipped strike

force, a unit that could hit the enemy where it lived

in a way conventionally organized units could not.

In order to combat the inevitable “elite within elite”

argument, Kyser intended for the Marines in the unit

to come from and return to the Marine operating

forces in a regular rotation. The Marine Raiders had

been disbanded and absorbed into conventional

units, a detail that was not lost on Kyser.

The Commandant Puts it in Writing

By the end of 2002, the Marine Corps’ first force

contribution to Special Operations Command was

about to become a reality. The unit’s proponents had

countered all arguments, surmounted difficulties, created a structure, identified funding, named a commander, and tied its lineage to one of the most

famous units in Marine Corps history. In late October,

the Commandant, General Jones, issued an executive

personal communication, known as a “personal for”

or “P4” message, to the leadership of Marine Corps’

operating forces and supporting establishment describing the unit being sent to SOCom, his intent for

its creation and employment, and what he expected

of those to whom the message was addressed. He

laid out how the logistical and personnel burdens

would be borne and how he wanted the unit to be

set up for success in material resources and training.

He linked the unit and its success to the whole range

of SOCom-USMC initiatives and to the continued “primacy of the Marine Corps as the nation’s expeditionary strike force.” Jones emphasized that “the

success of this unit is a priority for me,” as well as

for the secretary of defense, the secretary of the Navy,

and Jones’s designated successor as Commandant,

Lieutenant General Michael W. Hagee.56

Two months after General Jones’s P4 message,

Marine Corps Bulletin 5400, dated 4 December 2002,

formally established the Marine Corps Special Operations Command Detachment as a two-year proof-ofconcept test, in furtherance of the goals set forth by

14 DET ONE

Photo by Maj John P. Piedmont

Col Robert J. Coates, commanding officer, MCSOCOM

Det One, shown here at Camp Fallujah, Iraq, in May

2004, almost a year after the formation of the unit.

When the discussions were underway at HQMC on

who would be named to command this unit, LtCol

Kyser said that “We discussed several names, but every

time we came back to Coates.” 
Concept 15

the USMC/SOCom memorandum of agreement

signed on 9 November 2001. The Commandant’s October message had provided the overview of how the

unit was to be created. The bulletin detailed the who,

what, where, and when of activating the unit. In accordance with the Commandant’s guidance, the bulletin listed 42 units from which existing structure

would be “temporarily realigned” to make the detachment a reality. As might be expected, reconnaissance and intelligence units numbered about a third

of those affected, but the list covered a wide swath of

the Marine Corps; among other units, all three activeduty force service support groups were listed. The

bulletin stated that “the purpose of this proof-of-concept test is to determine the optimal structure and

equipment required to provide appropriate Marine

Corps operational support to USSOCOM.” 57 Thus was

born Det One.*

More than a year’s worth of hard work by several

dedicated Marines at Headquarters Marine Corps,

Special Operations Command, and elsewhere had become reality. The year 2003 would see the new unit

form up, receive millions of dollars’ worth of new

equipment, and begin to train for its historic deployment overseas.

* The “One” in “Det One” does not appear in the “P4” message or

the 5400 bulletin; it does, however, appear on the unit’s first command chronology, covering the period 1 January–30 June 2003,

and in its subsequent reports. Command chronologies and reports

at Gray Research Center, Quantico, VA.
16 DET ONE
17

To Prove the Concept

On 14 January 2003, General Michael W. Hagee

assumed the duties of Commandant of the Marine

Corps. Among the many pressing matters and ongoing initiatives he inherited was the emerging détente

with the U.S. Special Operations Command (SOCom).

Relations between SOCom and the Marine Corps had

deteriorated since the mid-1990s, but the demands of

the Global War on Terrorism had forced the two organizations to resume closer ties, a development seen

by certain Marines as a welcome return to the original intent of the Marine Corps policy that founded

the “special operations capable” program in 1985,

wherein the Marine Corps would not contribute

forces to Special Operations Command but would

maintain several points of contact with the command

to enhance operations and training.

Yet there was more afoot than a resumption of official ties. Operations in Afghanistan and other places

brought the two organizations into closer cooperation than had been the case since the late 1980s at

least. The most important of all the developments

was a force contribution to SOCom: the Marine Corps

Special Operations Command Detachment. As January and February 2003 progressed, Det One started

taking shape. “We were buying equipment,” recalled

Lieutenant Colonel J. Giles Kyser IV, “orders were

being issued to Marines, and the detachment was beginning to form.”1

Although the administrative works in Headquarters Marine Corps were churning out the orders and

the funding to make the detachment a reality, not

everything was on autopilot. One looming obstacle

was the decision that had been made in 2002 to approve Naval Special Warfare as SOCom’s executive

agent for the Marine force contribution. This authority, however, was not a blank check for SOCom or

the SEALs. On 20 February 2003, the Marine Corps

and SOCom signed a memorandum of agreement

codifying the nature of the force contribution—the

unit “shall be employed in such a manner as to fully

evaluate the MCSOCOM Det and its potential value to

SOCOM”—and clearly delineating who could do

what with the detachment, and when. The document

reads like a business contract between two reluctant

parties, full of tentative phrases and providing even

for unilateral termination of the agreement before its

expiration.

The memorandum provided no carte blanche for

Naval Special Warfare, nor did it give the Marine

Corps a free ride. It assigned definite authority to the

commander of the Naval Special Warfare squadron

to which the detachment would be attached to taskorganize the force. The detachment’s commanding

officer, a colonel, would upon deployment step aside

in order to invest the Naval Special Warfare squadron

commander with full command and control authority.

On the other hand, the memorandum sought to preserve the detachment as a unit in order to maximize

its potential. The letter and the spirit of the document

clearly were intended to protect the integrity of the

detachment while acknowledging operational realities. Each side would hold the other to the agreement

throughout the two-year period.

As early as December 2002, the press began to report Det One’s formation. Marine Corps Times and

the San Diego Union-Tribune picked up the story

early. In the next few months, publications such as

Stars and Stripes and National Defense Magazine also

reported on the unit. Special interest journals such as

SWAT Magazine and The American Rifleman eagerly

detailed the weapons and training of Det One.

The Command Element Forms

Personnel for the Det One command element (and

all officers) were directed by the 5400 Bulletin to report to Camp Pendleton, California, no later than 1

March 2003; all other Marines and sailors had until 1

June 2003 to join. It was just as well that three extra

months were allotted for the bulk of the detachment

to muster as the Marine Corps was gearing up for

what would be Operation Iraqi Freedom. Many of

the Marines earmarked for the unit would be fighting

in Iraq while the command element was working to

put the detachment together and would be hurried

home at the end of combat. Several, in fact, ended up

joining later than 1 June.

Lieutenant Colonel Robert J. Coates reported for

duty on 1 March 2003. He did not have far to go to

report since I Marine Expeditionary Force Special Operations Training Group (SOTG), of which he was ofChapter 2

Formation
18 DET ONE

ficer in charge, was providing the temporary facilities

for the new unit.* Other principal staff members and

support section Marines soon began to check in.

Among the early arrivals, Sergeant Victor M.

Guerra, the network administrator, was one of the

most significant. The table of organization crafted by

Master Gunnery Sergeant Joseph G. Settelen III and

Master Sergeant Troy G. Mitchell anticipated the need

for a dedicated information technology Marine,

specifically a Marine fully qualified in his military occupational specialty who could be cross-trained in

other tasks. Guerra did not have a reconnaissance

background. He had spent his career in base operations at Okinawa, Quantico, and San Diego. But what

experience he might have lacked in combat arms

units he amply made up in network knowledge and

an exceptional work ethic. This last quality would

serve him well.2

Sergeant Guerra initially was put to work not on

building or running a network, but on building and

running the detachment. The detachment’s communications officer would later call him “the center pole”

around which the detachment grew.”3 Guerra helped

lay out the utility lines for the unit’s new compound

near the boat basin in Camp Del Mar. He arranged for

telephone service. He ordered radios and then had to

learn how to employ them. When Lieutenant Colonel

Coates told him to go learn the AN/PRC-148 handheld, frequency-hopping radio, the basic tactical

communications gear every Marine in the detachment

would be using, Guerra recalled asking himself, “OK,

what’s a PRC-148?”4 Borrowing a set from Special Operations Training Group, he pored over it for two

days and learned it, inside and out, on his own.

As the weeks passed, Sergeant Guerra began to

work more in information technology, his area of expertise, although not less in the other areas of general

support. He simply worked more at everything. As a

one-man show, he had to do many things himself or

they would not get done. Lieutenant Colonel Coates

empowered Guerra to “wear his rank” and solve the

problems. Guerra found himself in meetings—and

sometimes arguments—with I Marine Expeditionary

Force staff officers and base support sections, having

Col Robert J. Coates (far right) with Colonel John A.

Toolan, commanding Regimental Combat Team 1, (second right) all shown outside Camp Fallujah in August

2004. With the Fallujah Brigade in the last days of its

existence, Col Coates had a leading role in the establishment of the Shahwani Special Forces that replaced it.

* SOTG, and then 15th MEU (SOC), would house the detachment’s

command element for the first three months of its existence; SOTG

would even provide key personnel on loan to cover positions the

slim table of organization did not provide. 

Photo courtesy of Col Robert J. Coates
Formation 19

to stand his ground and make sure the detachment

got what it needed. As he (and others) would find

out, it was not easy to get full support while virtually

all hands at Camp Pendleton were concentrating on

the war in Iraq.5

On 17 March, Major Craig S. Kozeniesky reported

as executive officer. He came directly from his post as

operations officer at the Mountain Warfare Training

Center in Bridgeport, California, having previously

served as the operations officer at 1st Force Reconnaissance Company from 1998 to 2000, when Lieutenant Colonel Coates was commanding officer. In

addition to a strong U.S. Marine infantry and reconnaissance résumé, he had served an exchange tour

with the British Royal Marines. By the particular

arrangements spelled out in the memorandum of

agreement with Special Operations Command, Kozeniesky was designated to command the detachment

when it joined SEAL Team 1 for deployment to Iraq.

He was also assigned under the original table of organization as the detachment’s operations officer.

The original structure also did not provide for a

logistics officer, so Lieutenant Colonel Coates “temp

loaned” Captain Matthew H. Kress from Special Operations Training Group. In keeping with an emerging pattern, the tall Captain Kress had been the logistics officer at 1st Force Reconnaissance Company

when Coates was commanding officer. Of the same

provenance was Gunnery Sergeant Monty K. Genegabus, the logistics chief. Along with Major Ronald J.

Rux, on temporary duty from 11th MEU (SOC) as the

acting supply officer, Kress and Genegabus shouldered much of the initial burden of ordering and accepting mountains of equipment, all of it new, and

much of it non-Marine.

The senior enlisted Marine, the sergeant major in

fact if not in name, was Master Sergeant James R.

Rutan. The Ohio native had enlisted in 1983 as an infantryman and transferred to the reconnaissance field

in 1988, where he stayed for the bulk of his career.

He was involved with Det One from the beginning.

As the reconnaissance field’s first personnel monitor

at Manpower and Reserve Affairs, Rutan had been

part of the working group that sifted through the

stack of record jackets to find the best Marines for

the unit. Master Sergeant Mitchell had identified the

billets in reconnaissance units to source the detachment while Rutan, the reconnaissance monitor, issued

the orders for individual Marines, with the last set of

orders being for him. (Mitchell succeeded him as reconnaissance monitor.) In Det One, Rutan’s primary

task would be to serve in the unit’s training cell.6 The

operations chief, Master Sergeant Thomas P. Muratori, came to the detachment fresh from 1st Reconnaissance Battalion and Operation Iraqi Freedom.

The communications officer, Gunnery Sergeant

James E. Wagner, joined the detachment in late May,

LtCol Craig S. Kozeniesky, Det One’s executive officer,

and initially its operations officer as well, is shown

here outside the detachment’s headquarters in October 2004. He came to the unit from the Marine Corps

Mountain Warfare Training Center and had been in

1st Force Reconnaissance under Col Coates. He had

also done a tour with the Royal Marines.

Photo by Maj John P. Piedmont

Photo by Maj John P. Piedmont

MSgt James R. Rutan, Det One’s de facto sergeant

major. As the reconnaissance monitor he cut the orders for the Marines from that community to report

to the detachment with the last set of orders for himself. Together with Capt Stephen V. Fiscus, he ran the

detachment’s training cell, which focused on designing, running, and evaluating exercises so that the

Marines could concentrate on training.
having been held up by the war in Iraq. A veteran reconnaissance communicator, he had served in 1st

Force Reconnaissance Company for a considerable

length of time, “nine years, one month, one day,” including the period when Lieutenant Colonel Coates 

was commanding officer. He immediately took on the

tactical communications matters from a much-relieved Sergeant Guerra and began to get the detachment’s communications shop ready to support the

training phase. When Wagner got there, the proverbial cupboard was bare: “Empty, zero . . . well, there

were a couple of radios.” There were actually more

than a couple of radios, as much of the detachment’s

tactical man-pack communications gear was on hand,

but the quip was essentially correct. There was a pile

of gear they did not need, and some of what they did

need. Wagner soon identified table of equipment

shortfalls and set about correcting the problems. As

time went on and they waited for deliveries of equipment, he made do with what he had, borrowing from

1st Force Reconnaissance and other commands when

the situation demanded. Although he had worn the

uniform for almost 20 years, Det One was a new experience. “Never have I been anywhere else in the

Marine Corps where you walked into something and

started it from scratch,” he said. “We just pieced it all

together.”7

The Reconnaissance Element

The initial Det One structure called for four reconnaissance teams, each with six Marines and one

corpsman. With the platoon commander and platoon

sergeant, the reconnaissance element totaled 30. Late

winter saw the first reconnaissance Marines report for

duty. On 28 February 2003, Captain Eric N. Thompson reported in as platoon commander. The San

Diego native had served in 1st Force Reconnaissance

under Lieutenant Colonel Coates and Major Kozeniesky; from there he had gone overseas with 13th

MEU (SOC), a deployment he called “very frustrating,” as he watched the versatile Marine expeditionary units operate on what he saw as the

periphery of the campaign in Afghanistan rather than

wade into the fight and employ the full spectrum of

their capabilities. Now with Det One, he would have

ample opportunity to redress that frustration. He was

assigned to the basic reconnaissance course at Expeditionary Warfare Training Group Pacific when he received a call inviting him to join the detachment.

Captain Thompson would be the first of several former members of 1st Force Reconnaissance Company

and Special Operations Training Group to fill out the

ranks of the Det One reconnaissance element.8

Gunnery Sergeant Terry M. Wyrick was assigned

as leader of Recon Team 1. In addition to serving in

reconnaissance units on both coasts, the Missouri native had completed an exchange tour with the Royal

Netherlands Marines. He had also served with 2d

Force Reconnaissance Company in the 1980s when

that unit fielded the “CINC’s In-Extremis Force” for

the commander of U.S. Atlantic Command, and so he

was familiar with the requirements of operations at

the SOCom level.9

Like Wyrick, Gunnery Sergeant Joseph L. Morrison, the leader of Recon Team 2 had also served in

2d Force Reconnaissance. Following a tour at the embassies in Burma and the Netherlands as a Marine security guard, the slim Alabaman went west to

California and served in 1st Reconnaissance Battalion, 1st Force Reconnaissance, and then the special

operations training group. In late 2003, he was getting ready to retire but put off those plans when offered the Det One opportunity.10

The third team leader was a Californian, Gunnery

Sergeant Charles H. Padilla. He had served in 1st Reconnaissance Battalion and 5th Force Reconnaissance

Company. The official detachment photo showed

rank on rank of stern-faced Marines, except on the

left flank where Padilla, bearing the colors, appears

to be not just smiling but actually laughing. Major

Kozeniesky recruited him for the detachment while

Padilla was in the United Kingdom on exchange with

the Royal Marines.11

Gunnery Sergeant John A. Dailey headed Recon

Team 4, reporting directly from the staff of Special

20 DET ONE

Photo by Maj John P. Piedmont

Capt Eric N. Thompson, shown here in October 2004

at the detachment’s compound at Camp Pendleton,

was Det One’s first reconnaissance platoon commander. 
Formation 21

Operations Training Group. The Virginia-born Dailey—from a corner of the Old Dominion called

“Mosby’s Confederacy” after the hard-fighting guerrilla leader who operated there—had done a Marine

expeditionary unit deployment to Afghanistan and

had seen considerable action there despite the

Marines’ overall limited role.12 Dailey had served with

another Det One reconnaissance scout, Gunnery Sergeant Sidney J. Voss, since they were riflemen in 3d

Battalion, 7th Marines. All four team leaders were

long-serving reconnaissance Marines, at or near 20

years’ service, and three had been in 1st Force Reconnaissance Company under Lieutenant Colonel

Coates.

The reconnaissance element’s platoon sergeant,

Master Sergeant Keith E. Oakes, came directly from

his post with the U.S. Army Ranger Training Brigade

at Fort Benning, Georgia. He had served there for

four years, and in 2001 had won the prestigious “Best

Ranger” competition. He was also something of a rarity in the Det One reconnaissance platoon—an East

Coast Marine. In terms of personality, Oakes was the

quiet match to the much more outwardly aggressive

and demonstrative Captain Thompson.13

The Det One medical corpsmen were as well qualified in combat skills as any of the Marines. Chief

Hospital Corpsman Eric D. Sine headed the medical

section. One reconnaissance corpsman was assigned

to each reconnaissance team: Hospital Corpsman

First Class Robert T. Bryan went to Team One, Hospital Corpsman First Class Michael D. Tyrell to Team

Two, Hospital Corpsman First Class Matthew S.

Pranka to Team Three, and Hospital Corpsman First

Class Michael I. Arnold to Team Four. Pranka, assigned to Padilla’s team, came to Det One by way of

1st Force Reconnaissance, straight from duty in Iraq.

He was emblematic of his fellow corpsmen; his entire career in the Navy had been with the Marines.

Pranka had served first with an infantry battalion and

then with several reconnaissance units and had done

two Marine expeditionary unit deployments and Operation Iraqi Freedom. He had been through the

renowned U.S. Army Special Forces medical course

and had done a clinical rotation at a hospital emergency room in Saint Petersburg, Florida.14

No reconnaissance Marine was a shrinking violet,

and Det One gathered 30 of the most aggressive and

proficient from that community under one roof. Several had been platoon sergeants in force reconnaissance companies and two had served exchange tours

with foreign militaries. More than one had left the

Marine Corps and came back on active duty specifically to serve with the detachment. All were well

grounded in conventional infantry service before they

set foot in any reconnaissance units; some had unusual life experiences as well. With a group like

that—30 chiefs and no braves—one might think there

might have been unseemly jockeying for position in

the war party. The Marines themselves say otherwise,

and the by-name selection process was designed

partly to net the right sorts of personalities, men who

were only focused on getting the job done. Gunnery

Sergeant Dailey, for one, decided early on that his

team would do whatever it needed to do to move

the unit forward. “From day one I told my guys, we’ll

do every mission we can in training, every varied

task,” he recalled. Staff Sergeant Chad Baker, a reconnaissance scout on Padilla’s Team 3, echoed that

attitude: “I came here to be part of a team. I’ll sweep

floors, I’ll work on vehicles, I’ll be a point man, it

The reconnaissance element stands in formation during the activation ceremony on 20 June 2003. Not all

the Marines had reported for duty; some were still in

transit from previous commands, and a few were en

route from combat in Iraq.

Photo courtesy of Maj Matthew H. Kress
doesn’t matter—whatever they need.”15

The organic capabilities of the reconnaissance element were substantial. The average age was over

30. Each man had several deployments under his

belt. More than half were school-trained snipers; several had been instructors at the Mountain Warfare

School or one of the Special Operations Training

Groups. Every team leader and assistant team leader

had been to Ranger School. The medical corpsmen

were skilled veteran fighting men in their own right.

The overall level of physical fitness was extraordinary. As a unit, they were well prepared for what lay

ahead.

The Fires Liaison Element

One of the hallmarks of the Marine Corps’ force

contribution to Special Operations Command was the

capability to integrate all aspects of fire support—

planning, coordination, execution—into joint, combined, and special operations. The Marine Corps has

a long history of fielding such a capability, notably its

air and naval gunfire liaison companies (ANGLICOs).

Composed of Marines from the artillery, communications, and aviation fields, ANGLICO supporting arms

liaison teams and firepower control teams provide

U.S. Army and foreign forces access to Marine and

Navy supporting arms. These collective experiences

proved critical for the Det One fires liaison element.

On 21 March 2003, Major M. Wade Priddy reported

as the Det One fires liaison element leader. An artillery officer with both a conventional and ANGLICO

background, he had been alerted to Det One’s formation through an interest in the resurgence of the

active duty ANGLICOs. Priddy came to the detachment from Naval Reserve Officer Training Corps duty

at Texas A&M University. Later he would move more

into the role of detachment operations officer and

serve as Naval Special Warfare task group operations

officer in Iraq. 16

Joining Major Priddy as air officer in the fires liaison element was Major Thomas P. “Hobbit” Dolan, a

Bell AH-1W Super Cobra pilot and a serious triathlete. The pugnacious former enlisted Marine was not

an ANGLICO veteran, but he had been a forward air

controller for 1st Light Armored Reconnaissance Battalion. He was working for Lieutenant Colonel Coates

at Special Operations Training Group when Det One

was formed, and he became the air officer.17 What

Dolan brought to the fight was not just the ability to

call in air support, but also the ability to think as an

aviator, to grasp the aviation issues of a mission, then

advise, plan, and execute accordingly. Those were

skills not learned in any single certification course,

but over the course of a career in the air and on the

ground.

The fires liaison chief did not report until after the

conclusion of Operation Iraqi Freedom I. Gunnery

Sergeant Fidencio Villalobos Jr. came to Det One

from his post as the liaison chief of 1st Battalion, 11th

Marines, 1st Marine Division, fresh from the march

up to Baghdad. His career spanned 1st ANGLICO,

fleet antiterrorist security teams, and conventional artillery units. Villalobos also had been, in his words, a

“stealth member” of 1st Force Reconnaissance Company. After the 1991 Gulf War, he took the reconnaissance induction test, passed it, and was assigned

to 1st Surveillance, Reconnaissance, and Intelligence

Group. From that unit he “walked over” to 1st Force

Reconnaissance Company, where, although there

were no billets for an enlisted artillery observer, he

lived the life of a reconnaissance Marine for four

years, even going to Ranger School. Later during Det

One’s deployment to Iraq, Villalobos—an enormous

man, with the call-sign “Big Daddy”—would take

over the fire support coordination duties for a U.S.

Army cavalry battalion, bridging the divide between

special and conventional operations and highlighting

the singular capabilities of the Det One fires element.18

Rounding out the leadership of the fires element

was the communications chief, Gunnery Sergeant

Ryan P. Keeler. A communicator whose time in Marine operating forces was exclusively served in AN22 DET ONE

Photo by Maj John P. Piedmont

Maj M. Wade Priddy, Det One fires liaison element

leader and later its operations officer. An artilleryman

with conventional and ANGLICO experience, he

helped to shape and train the fires liaison capability

that would prove its worth in Iraq. 
Formation 23

GLICO, Keeler was as well versed in calling for fire

and controlling air strikes as he was at making sure

communications nets were set up and functioning.

He had served in a joint communications element

and in the headquarters of U.S. Central Command. 19

The Intelligence Element

When Lieutenant Colonel Kyser, Master Gunnery

Sergeant Settelen, and Master Sergeant Mitchell put

Det One together on paper, they intended for it to

have a “robust” intelligence capability, manned with

the complete range of intelligence capabilities the detachment would need to operate independently or

jointly. They wanted a substantial presence from the

human intelligence (HumInt) and signals intelligence

(SigInt) disciplines, as the Marine Corps has unique

capabilities in both functions. Kyser, Settelen, and

Mitchell wanted a complete in-house analytical and

production capability. In terms of individuals, they

also had in mind a specific sort of Marine, not necessarily a “snake-eater” but someone who was simply

very good at his job, and who could also then move

quickly into the special operations realm. The

Marines who joined Det One fit all of those criteria.

Lieutenant Colonel Francis L. Donovan, the unit’s second executive officer, would call the intelligence element “the real strength of the detachment.”20

Major M. Gerald “Jerry” Carter reported in as the

intelligence officer and intelligence element leader

on 24 March 2003. He came with an extensive résumé. Carter had been part of the initial radio reconnaissance effort during his enlisted years, and he had

MEU (SOC) experience, including a recent tour in

Afghanistan. He also came with the one crucial item

for any Marine dealing with special operations

forces—by-name credibility. Carter had done a tour—

an operational tour—in SOCom. He knew the special operations realm, and he was known in the

special operations realm. Both qualities would pay

immense dividends. Indeed, a SEAL officer he knew

and served with would later have a major role in the

detachment’s story.21

The intelligence chief was a Texan, Master Sergeant Bret A. Hayes. Hayes had no SOCom experience, but he did have a wealth of time in Marine

Corps ground and air intelligence. He knew how to

run an intelligence section, with its several disciplines

and myriad detailed requirements. He was, in effect,

Major Carter’s assistant intelligence officer. The allsource fusion chief was Gunnery Sergeant Kenneth C.

Pinckard, an Alabama native and a Marine tactical air

traffic controller before he became an intelligence analyst. He reported to Det One in May 2003 following

a tour at Dam Neck, Virginia, supporting Naval Special Warfare. As opposed to the duties of the intelligence chief, who made sure that tasks got done, the

all-source fusion chief oversaw the analysts and made

sure that everything got put together.22

A three-man signals intelligence support team and

a nine-man radio reconnaissance team provided the

Det One signals intelligence capability, each subdiscipline bringing its own particular capabilities. Major

Carter selected Gunnery Sergeant Adam C. Toothaker

as the signals intelligence support team chief. Carter

knew him from the 13th MEU (SOC) and gladly

tapped him for Det One. Although Carter did not

know Master Sergeant Hays B. Harrington, he learned

that Harrington had also done a tour in Special Operations Command, and Carter knew that he was the

right man to head the detachment’s radio reconnaissance section. When Harrington reported for duty, he

discovered that life in Det One moved in double

time. The Mississippi native and 17-year veteran of

the Corps employed the time-honored stratagem of

checking in on a Friday afternoon, which usually secured the Marine a weekend lull before he started his

new duties. But Harrington miscalculated, as he later

recounted, and the joke was on him: “I saw Colonel

Coates, and the first thing he told me was get my uniform on and go draw my gear, because I’m going to

the field.”23 Harrington led a section of eight highlytrained Marines, organized into two teams of four

men each.

The core of radio reconnaissance is electronic warfare, but radio reconnaissance Marines bring their surDet One’s radio reconnaissance chief, MSgt Hays B.

Harrington, executes a magazine change during

Weapons and Tactics Package I at Range 130, under

the watchful eye of Patrick J. Rogers.

Photo courtesy of Det One
veillance capabilities to and beyond the front lines as

fully qualified reconnaissance scouts, going through

the basic reconnaissance course, airborne and dive

schools in addition to their own extensive training,

which could also include language instruction. A fully

trained “radio recon” Marine is a fighting man unique

in the Department of Defense; Det One’s radio reconnaissance team formed a substantial part of the

unit’s potent intelligence gathering and analysis capabilities, and it would have a profound effect on operations in Iraq.

Captain Christopher B. Batts, a prior enlisted reservist and a career counterintelligence officer, led

Det One’s counterintelligence section. One day in

early 2003 while he was assigned to the National

Counterintelligence Center in Washington, D.C., Batts

called the Navy/Marine Corps Intelligence Training

Center at Dam Neck, Virginia, on a routine matter.

The Marine with whom he was talking asked him casually how he would like his new position—as the

Det One counterintelligence officer. Surprised, he

called and confirmed this assignment with Headquarters Marine Corps. Batts then got started on this

new position by calling Major Carter, whom he did

not know. He began to put together his part of the intelligence element, a six-man team, in much the same

way as Lieutenant Colonel Coates had put the key

leadership together—by seeking out known quantities, Marines he had served with before. He looked

for seasoned counterintelligence Marines and kept a

good balance between East and West Coast backgrounds. One detail that assured Batts of a wide base

of experience was the Marine Corps’ requirement that

counterintelligence Marines come to the field only

after serving in other military occupational specialties; one of his Marines had been a heavy equipment

operator, another a mortarman. For counterintelligence chief, he chose Gunnery Sergeant Matthew A.

Ulmer, a West Coast Marine with whom he had not

served before.24

Counterintelligence Marines gather intelligence

from human beings. What they do is more properly

termed counterintelligence force protection source

operations. Although the title suggests only a force

protection task—and in fact that is part of their mission—counterintelligence Marines have evolved a

particular skill set in the intelligence world. This development is due in part to the merging in the 1990s

of two military occupational specialties—counterintelligence and interrogator/translator—into one,

counterintelligence. The move ensured that all “CI”

Marines would have a strong background in both interrogations and source operations. Where their

methods differ slightly with their counterparts in the

other armed services (and especially in the special

operations community) is that their operations are

rolled into the larger intelligence picture, no matter

what the mission or target. A good bit of what they

would do in Iraq resembled nothing more than oldfashioned police detective work—the relentless pursuit of wanted men. Like their radio reconnaissance

brethren, most of the counterintelligence Marines

would be detached from Det One to other units in

Iraq, where all would make their marks.25

Another Marine whom Major Carter was able to

secure for the detachment was Warrant Officer Kevin

E. Vicinus, a meteorologist serving in 3d Marine Aircraft Wing. Vicinus provided a capability that was

well known and appreciated in the aviation community, but less well valued by ground combat units—

tactically relevant forecasts. Instead of just providing

simple weather observation and passing on general

forecasts, he could accurately determine conditions

such as wind speed and direction at various altitudes,

visibility, and natural illumination, and then meld the

predictions with topographic and imagery analysis.

The resulting products allowed the staff to plan

routes and holding patterns for aircraft and vehicles.

Vicinus proved his skills to the detachment by predicting, almost to the minute, the arrival of a windstorm during the Capstone Exercise in Nevada,

enabling the team to avoid damage to communications operations center and loss of connectivity.26

Equipping the Detachment

The decision to field the detachment involved providing new equipment at a cost of roughly $17 million. The 5400 Bulletin, which had established Det

One, had made clear that “unlike personnel sourcing, this equipment will not be sourced from existing

units.”27 The 5400 Bulletin also declared that the

money would not come from SOCom. Because of

these restrictions, procurement had to come from

weapons and equipment in use nowhere else in the

Marine Corps, including one weapon built specifically for the detachment. 

Early in the detachment’s formation, it became apparent that the original table of organization was not

as generous as the table of equipment. The staff sections, and in particular the logistics section, were

thinly manned. Lieutenant Colonel Coates eventually

levied the Marine Corps to bring some men on board

to give the logistics section more depth and capability. In addition to Captain Kress, Captain Olufemi A.

Harrison and Staff Sergeant Frederick L. Riano III

were brought on as supply officer and supply chief

24 DET ONE
Formation 25

as the formation of the detachment progressed. Another specialist and key member of the logistics section, Staff Sergeant Stuart C. Earl, joined as plans chief

in June 2003. His job was twofold: to ensure that the

embarkation and deployment plans were accurate,

up-to-date, and ready for execution by strategic lift

assets; and to serve as the duty “ops Marine,” organizing and running the combat operations center.

When he reported for duty, Staff Sergeant Earl was

greeted by his former drill instructor from Parris Island, 1995—Master Sergeant Rutan, the detachment’s

senior enlisted Marine.

Beyond personnel needs, Det One logistical difficulties ran from the general to the specific, or more

accurately, to the multitude of specifics. What set Det

One’s logistical challenges apart from any other unit’s

were, in the words of Captain Kress, “the timeline

and what we had to acquire. We didn’t have a piece

of gear to our name.”28 Obtaining the needed equipment was compounded by the demands of operations in Afghanistan and Iraq, and in many cases, by

specific shortages of special operations gear. Mundane issues bedeviled Det One’s logistics section. The

allocation of ammunition to Marine Corps units is

governed by Marine Corps Bulletin 8011, which for

budgetary reasons is planned many months in advance. When the 8011 Bulletin for 2003 was being

planned, there was no MCSOCom Detachment One.

Therefore, no ammunition was allocated for its use.

Laying legitimate claim to ammunition in the large

quantities it would need for training would be a

major hurdle for the logistics section. 

Another persistent problem in equipping the detachment was the process of open-purchase, which is

the method by which a unit can legally buy a particular item rather than wait for its procurement and

issue through normal channels. Due to its mission,

the unit needed specific items, and substitution of

similar items was not acceptable. Kress was asked the

same question repeatedly: “Why can’t you accept this

thing instead of that thing?” The answer was that the

table of equipment specified the one instead of the

other, and the table of equipment was built around

the demands of the mission. That answer did not always satisfy the questioner, who might have had a

hundred M4 carbines available for issue and could

not understand that it was M4 SOPMOD (for “special

operations modified”) carbines that Det One needed.

The detachment’s ultimate weapon in any dispute

about resources and priorities was the Commandant’s

P4 message of December 2002. Kress used it when

the situation warranted, yet he preferred other, “less

kinetic” solutions. Like any good logistics officer, he

liked to turn to the people he knew and work the

system. As he put it, to say that he strained previous

personal relationships in his quest to ensure support

for the detachment “would be an understatement, to

say the least.”29

In another example of how much effort and forethought went into building Det One, Master Gunnery

Sergeant Settelen had obtained a research, development, test and evaluation charter for the unit. In a related move, Headquarters Marine Corps also secured

the services of an official at Soldier Systems Command, Natick, Massachusetts, to help identify the best

equipment available, push through its critical acquisitions, and then evaluate the gear’s performance.

Jonathan Laplume, a former Army Ranger, worked

closely with the detachment’s logistics section and

was responsible for getting most of the first-rate gear

the unit received. He later accompanied the detachment on its major exercises and even deployed with

it to Baghdad. In order to assist Laplume in the early

stages of the unit’s formation, Lieutenant Colonel

Coates sent out Gunnery Sergeant John Dailey from

the reconnaissance element. Dailey had been involved in the development and acquisition of individual equipment for the reconnaissance community

in the 1990s, and he knew how the system worked.*

One of the key pieces of equipment that the original table of equipment did not allow for was a command and control system that could provide the

detachment with its own link to national intelligence

assets and communications pipelines. Major Carter,

sitting one day in a planning conference on detachment communications, listened to extensive conversation about man-pack radios, but precious little on

serious command and control systems. As he put it,

“no one talked about how we were going to move

electrons across the battlefield.”30 When he suggested

that they needed to get a system called Trojan Spirit,

he was greeted by polite silence.** Carter was con-

* Equipment for Det One sometimes arrived long after it was ordered, in some cases well into the unit training phase. Sgt Guerra,

the network administrator, would receive a shipment from some

long-forgotten open purchase, and think, “Did I even order this?

What is this?” In one memorable instance, the detachment’s laptop

computers arrived months after he placed the order for them. At

that time still a one-man information technology department, Sgt

Guerra set up a hallway assembly line of 32 laptops and went

down the row, loading software onto each one, step-by-step,

mouse-click by mouse-click, into the small hours of the morning.

Guerra intvw, 16Nov04 (Marine Corps Historical Center, Quantico,

VA). ** AN/TSQ-22 Trojan Spirit lightweight integrated telecommunications equipment is a super-high frequency dual band multichannel

satellite communications terminal fielded for use in intelligence

communications.
vinced that the intelligence element was going to

need a system that provided a stand-alone link with

enough dedicated bandwidth to pass imagery and

other large files directly to and from national agencies. Drawing on his education at the command and

control systems course and his recent experience at

the Marine expeditionary force intelligence section,

he made the case for it. Having been an intelligence

plans officer, Carter knew how many Trojan Spirit

sets there were in the Marine Corps, where they

were, and what they required for support and maintenance. Trojan Spirit—or more properly, an improved version called Trojan Spirit Lite—gave the

detachment an independent expeditionary data link

to the national intelligence assets and communications systems. With it, Det One could deploy anywhere in either a supporting or supported role

without having to levy other units to provide it with

bandwidth.

Major Carter also knew that he needed to get

Marines assigned to operate and support Trojan Spirit

Lite and other intelligence-related systems. Staff Sergeant Jason M. Bagstad soon joined as the electronics maintenance technician, and Gunnery Sergeant

Victor M. Church came on board as the intelligence

element’s signals intelligence communicator. In the

hands of Gunnery Sergeant Church, Det One’s Trojan

Lite grew in capabilities to include extra connectivity

with national agencies and separate links with unclassified email and voice systems. Master Sergeant

Harrington, with his detailed knowledge of special

operations signals intelligence issues, would help

shape that added capability. As a result, the Det One

Trojan Spirit Lite became the only one of its kind in

the Marine Corps, and possibly in the Department of

Defense.

As the detachment increased its intelligence systems capabilities, so too did it begin to grow wheels.

Gunnery Sergeant Jaime Maldonado was in charge of

the motor transport effort, while Staff Sergeant Jaime

J. Sierra became the motor transport operations chief.

Since both were veterans of 1st Force Reconnaissance

Company under Lieutenant Colonel Coates, they

knew that “Motor-T” would be just one small part of

their duties. As the training phase picked up in intensity, both Marines would do what the other

Marines of the detachment did, in addition to their

own work. During mountain training in Bridgeport,

California, they would even switch for a time from

four-wheeled to four-legged transport.

The table of organization authorized 18 interim

fast attack vehicles (IFAVs), small, light four-wheeldrive vehicles manufactured by Mercedes-Benz that

could be internally loaded on Sikorsky CH-53E Super

Stallion helicopters. Based on the recent experience

of 1st Force Reconnaissance Company and 1st Reconnaissance Battalion in Operation Iraqi Freedom,

where the units were used in mobile operations reminiscent of the actions in North Africa during World

War II, those involved in putting together the table

of organization thought that the fast attack vehicles

would make good platforms for Det One operations.

The IFAVs offered transportability and nimble, speedy

mobility. What they did not offer was the size and

protection of the new armored hunekers that could

fight their way in and out of a target area. Gunnery

Sergeant Maldonado and Staff Sergeant Sierra remained unsure that the fast attack vehicles were the

solution to the detachment’s mobility needs. Events

were to prove them right.

Arming the Detachment

One of the main logistics concerns was arming the

detachment with the array of specialized weapons

that its mission would require. The Det One armorer

was Gunnery Sergeant Mark S. Kitashima, a Colorado

native who enlisted in 1988. Most notable among the

assignments of his career was a tour at Quantico, Virginia, as a match armorer, working on the “MEU

(SOC) .45,” the finely tuned .45-caliber M1911 pistol

used by the direct action platoons of the maritime

special purpose forces. His knowledge of weapons

and weapons procurement would be invaluable in

arming the detachment. When he arrived at Det One,

his armory consisted only of “a lock and a chain and

an open cage.” He immediately set to work dealing

with Marine Corps support agencies to acquire all the

ordnance the detachment would need, from specialized arms to basic crew-served weapons and standard armory equipment.31

Although humans are indeed more important than

hardware, as a SOCom saying goes, the capability to

execute precision close quarter combat still required

specialized equipment. Heckler & Koch MP5 9mm

sub-machine guns—weapons so identifiable with

special operations units as to become emblematic of

them—had given way in the U.S. military in the

1990s to the M4 carbine variant of the M16 series

5.56mm rifle. The Det One table of equipment authorized 86 M4 SOPMOD carbines, one for every

man in the original table of organization. Each carbine came with a suite of optics and designators to

satisfy the needs of close quarter battle in full light or

complete darkness.

For an individual back-up weapon, the detachment wanted the best .45-caliber pistol available.

26 DET ONE
Formation 27

(The Marine Corps had first suggested that it use the

standard sidearm, the M9 9mm pistol, but that

weapon was immediately rejected as being unreliable and underpowered.) The first answer was the

MEU (SOC) .45—powerful, accurate, available in the

Marine Corps supply chain, and intimately familiar

to the force reconnaissance veterans in the detachment. Gunnery Sergeant Kitashima, however, knew

by virtue of his Quantico tour that the MEU (SOC)

pistol was not the answer to the detachment’s needs.

The MEU (SOC) .45s all came from ordnance

stocks in storage sites across the country, containing

millions of pistols produced during and after World

War II. The best of these were selected by the Marine

Corps and sent to Weapons Training Battalion at

Quantico, where the match armorers at the precision

weapons section then rebuilt them by hand with premium parts, mating the power of the .45 cartridge

with the reliability and accuracy of match-grade

arms. However, the section could only turn out 60

pistols a year. The problem with the MEU (SOC) .45

was its sustainability, not its accuracy. Each one

needed to be repaired by a match armorer if it broke

down. (Kitashima was a match armorer, but if Det

One sub-elements were operating away from the

support sections, this could be a problem.) Also,

each MEU (SOC) .45 had a life span of only 10,000

rounds, which in practice worked out to two complete cycles of MEU (SOC) training and deployment.

After that, it had to go back to Quantico for overhaul. Det One Marines would fire more than 10,000

rounds in training alone. Given those realities, Kitashima judged the MEU (SOC) pistol to be inadequate for the detachment’s needs.32

The solution to the Det One pistol question

stretched the limits of the unit’s broad open-purchase

authority: a contract for the manufacture and delivery

of 100 .45-caliber M1911 pistols, built to Lieutenant

Colonel Coates’s specifications. These guns were

made by Kimber of America and dubbed the interim

close quarters battle pistols, incorporating features

such as an integral rail for mounting a light under

the frame and an expected life span of 30,000

rounds. They were delivered in a remarkably short

span of six months from date of order, in time for

the detachment’s groundbreaking weapons and tactics package in October 2003.33 Until then, Det One

used 50 Springfield Armory .45-caliber pistols,

bought for them as a temporary measure by Marine

Corps Systems Command.34 The Det One .45-caliber

was a remarkable weapon, a unique piece of ordnance, and one of the very few firearms in Marine

Corps history to be stamped “USMC.” Coates was issued the pistol with serial number 001.*

The detachment also was issued more standard

Marine Corps weapons, such as the M249 squad automatic weapon (in a folding-stock modification), the

M240G medium machine gun, the venerable Browning .50-caliber heavy machine gun, and its modern

companion the MK19 40mm heavy machine gun. To

ensure that the many snipers in the detachment

would not lack the equipment to employ their skills,

the table of equipment provided several weapons. In

caliber 7.62mm, there were M14 Designated Marksman Rifles, semi-automatic SR-25 rifles, and M40A1

bolt-action rifles. In heavier weapons there were .50-

caliber M82A3 Barrett special application scoped rifles, and an innovative .408-caliber sniper rifle made

by Cheyenne Tactical of Wyoming—a piece used by

no other Marine unit. The .408 rifles promised to deliver a solid bronze bullet beyond the effective range

of the 7.62mm cartridge, thereby closing the gap between the M40A1 and the M82A3.**

Finally, in an echo of its Marine Raider heritage,

the detachment was also issued with its own knife, a

decision being made that Det One Marines needed a

rugged utility cutting tool rather than just a sharp

blade. Strider Knives of San Marcos, California, modified one of its existing designs and turned out 100

copies, each one marked with “MC SOCOM DET 1”

and a unique serial number.

“Tough, Rugged, and Smart Gunfighters”

With both Marines and material arriving from

March to June 2003, significant unit-level training was

out of the question. Yet opportunities for individual

schools abounded, and Lieutenant Colonel Coates

seized opportunities to get all available people into

the schools and courses they would need. The intelligence Marines, for the most part, did not require

further schooling, but the reconnaissance Marines

needed to send a few of their number to Survival,

Evasion, Resistance, and Escape School, and some

from the other elements needed to go to basic airborne school. While those selected individuals were

hurriedly assigned to key school quotas, the daily

* The story of the Kimber .45 ICQB pistols has been told in several

periodicals, most notably by Patrick J. Rogers, who assisted the

author of this monograph, in the December 2003 issue of SWAT

Magazine, and by Gary Paul Johnston in the August 2004 issue of

The American Rifleman. ** Regarding the .408 rifles, Det One was authorized to seek out

new weapons and test them for their utility in military operations.

Likewise, the .45 pistol was designated the interim close quarters

battle pistol, with the intention being not only to provide a serviceable weapon but to test its features for future production models.
tasks of building and housing the detachment continued.

The detachment’s initial command post was in the

offices of I Marine Expeditionary Force Special Operations Training Group. Having outgrown that space

with even a limited number of Marines on deck, they

moved into the headquarters of the 15th MEU (SOC),

which was deployed at the time. While this was an

acceptable interim solution, there was no way the

unit could effectively execute command and control

from such arrangements. Det One needed a place of

its own where it could house its members and their

equipment and plan and execute its training schedule. But the Marine Corps 5400 Bulletin that established the unit specifically foreswore permanent new

facilities. Instead, the unit found a site in the Del Mar

boat basin at Camp Pendleton, California. It was not

large, but it was big enough for basic facilities, and it

had the advantages of being close to the water (for

training purposes) and relatively close to the I MEF

command element, where the detachment’s intelligence section continued to work because the nature

of their daily operations required existing buildings

and special communications.

The detachment compound evolved on a single

lot, surfaced with asphalt and surrounded by a chain

link fence. The unit erected three buildings, tent-like

devices, durable yet temporary, made by a corporation with an appropriately descriptive name, Sprung

Instant Structures. The three buildings were big

enough for the staff, the reconnaissance element, a

classroom, and a conference room and could provide

some supply storage as well. The motor transport

section had plenty of lot space for its growing fleet of

vehicles.

Having a compound solved the problem of a

home base, but it brought on several new tasks. Telephone and data services, both unclassified and classified, had to be connected for the staff to have true

command and control capabilities. The detachment’s

man for all seasons, Sergeant Guerra, handled these

tasks, venturing into territories where sergeants rarely

tread. He found low-cost, readily available solutions

to a host of problems and composed the detailed letters and orders that would enable to the detachment

to keep and maintain the sensitive classified network

equipment they needed.

The nascent unit also faced challenges beyond

personnel and equipment issues. The nuts and bolts

of integration with Naval Special Warfare Squadron

One, built around SEAL Team One, had yet to be addressed. The 20 February 2003 memorandum of

agreement with Special Operations Command spelled

out the command relationships between the units but

left the detailed coordination to be done by the

Marines and SEALs involved. In late March 2003, the

Det One staff held its first planning conferences with

SEAL Team One and the unit’s parent command,

Naval Special Warfare Group One. The Marines presented their training plans and their views on integration. The SEALs reciprocated. It was clear to Det

One’s leadership that the SEALs’ interpretation of the

clause in the memorandum that gave them the authority to task-organize based on “operational requirements” differed from the Marines’ reading, as

they consistently sought to maintain the integrity of

their force, in keeping with the Marine Corps’

warfighting philosophy.35 The group left other questions unresolved, such as when actual integration

would take place and the extent to which training

events before that date would be jointly run and evaluated.

In addition, there was still no firm word on the

unit’s operational destination, which presumably

would have informed the training plan. Would it be

the mountains of Afghanistan or the urban sprawl of

Iraq? Or would the detachment land somewhere else,

such as the Horn of Africa or the Philippines? In the

spring of 2003, Afghanistan seemed to be a likely option. For much of the training phase, Naval Special

Warfare had a split deployment in mind for the detachment, with the unit divided between U.S. Pacific

Command and U.S. Central Command. In the absence of knowing the destination, the best answer

was to develop a mission training plan to address the

four core competencies—direct action, special reconnaissance, limited foreign internal defense, and

coalition support—and then make adjustments when

circumstances dictated.

The mission training plan the detachment staff put

together for Lieutenant Colonel Coates’s signature

was all encompassing, firmly directive, and remarkably blunt. From ensuring that all Marines were prepared for promotion boards by completing their

required professional military education, to dire

warnings on cutting corners on safety, to a plain language assessment of what he desired from of his

Marines, the commanding officer set the stage for a

truly grueling training schedule. One line under the

paragraph “General Guidance” spoke volumes: “Remember most of all: I want tough, rugged and smart

gunfighters. In our profession and in a gunfight, second place is last place!”36

Activation

On 20 June 2003, the Marine Corps U.S. Special

Operations Command Detachment was officially acti28 DET ONE
Formation 29

vated in a ceremony at the Camp Del Mar compound.

In a compact formation, arrayed by elements, stood

89 Marines. Family, friends, fellow Marines, and guests

packed bleachers and the seats. Among the dignitaries

were figures that had prominent roles in the detachment’s formation, directly or indirectly, such as the

former Commandant, General Paul X. Kelley, and the

assistant secretary of defense for special operations

and low intensity conflict, Michael A. Westphal.

Brigadier General Dennis J. Hejlik and Colonel Paul

Hand from Special Operations Command were there,

as were representatives from each armed service at

the command. Naval Special Warfare was represented

by its commander, Vice Admiral Albert M. Calland III.

Charles Meacham, a veteran of World War II and the

president of the Marine Raider Association, looked on

as the commanding general of Marine Forces Pacific,

Lieutenant General Earl B. Hailston, presented Lieutenant Colonel Coates with the detachment’s colors,

and Det One officially came into being.
30 DET ONE
31

“Brilliance at the Fundamentals

of Our Craft”

Det One’s unit training phase began officially on

1 July 2003. Although selected Marines would attend

various schools during the second half of the year,

the individual training phase was over. The time had

come to train the detachment as a whole. From this

point on, every Det One exercise would end with an

internal or external evaluation.

Looming ever larger was the single fact that colored so much of the detachment’s formation and

training, and what Colonel Robert J. Coates (promoted 1 July) labeled their “critical vulnerability”: the

short period of time before deployment.1 The ability

of Det One to operate at the Special Operations Command level rode on its own ability to train itself to

the highest standards with no time to spare for remedial events. The singular (and not always well-received) by-name selection of the Marines for the

detachment would prove its worth by forming a solid

foundation on which it could build and train. The

command chronology for this period understated the

full-speed-ahead nature of the schedule by noting the

absence of what it called “white space” on the calendar. Master Sergeant Charles H. Padilla, the leader

of reconnaissance Team 3, put it less elegantly but

more descriptively: “It was one big kick in the nuts.”2

Even after activation, there were still Marines joining the detachment. One was Captain Stephen V. Fiscus, another 1st Force Reconnaissance Company

alumnus and recent Iraq veteran, who reported for

duty as the assistant operations officer. His job was

twofold. First, as the assistant operations officer, he

supervised the execution of the training schedule and

day-to-day operational issues. Second, and of greater

significance, he formed the training cell with Master

Sergeant James R. Rutan. The importance of this small

organization would become apparent as the training

phase gathered momentum.3

The requirements of the mission drove the training

schedule—despite the lack of a clear deployment assignment—and the training schedule governed the

detachment’s collective life. Far from being a sort of

pilotless drone, the Det One training schedule was

an ambitious and complex undertaking, full of moving parts and rife with potential pitfalls. It was a certainty that adjustments to the schedule would have

to be made, given the demands of the Marine Corps

and ongoing operations. That proved to be the case,

as Major Thomas P. Dolan observed that “every event

changed or moved in some way.”4 Proving Clausewitz’s timeless observation that the simple becomes

difficult and the difficult becomes impossible, routine

training matters, such as scheduling the use of firing

ranges, took on maddening complexity. The range

scheduling systems at Camp Pendleton, Yuma, and

other bases did not recognize MCSOCom Det One as

a unit, thus MCSOCom Det One could schedule no

ranges. No ranges, no training. Time and time again,

Marines from the operations section had to patiently

explain who they were and what they were trying to

do.

This is not to suggest that the whole West Coast

Marine Corps stood against them. On the contrary,

almost everyone the detachment staff members encountered was willing and eager to help once they

had explained the matter, but they certainly lost some

time in telling the same story again and again. They

dealt with the few real obstructionists they encountered as needed, usually by working around them,

but sometimes by invoking the name of Marine

Forces Pacific (the detachment’s actual higher headquarters) or even by employing General James L.

Jones’s “P4” message. Captain Matthew H. Kress certainly had to use the “P4” as his ultimate argument.

Major Dolan admitted having to “pull the MarForPac

punk card” once. Colonel Coates, however, made the

decision early on not to leverage the “special” part of

their title, knowing that it would be the fast track to

alienating people from whom they needed support—

and to reinforcing the perception of the special operations unit being an elite within an elite.

Immediately following the activation ceremony,

Colonel Coates and Major Craig S. Kozeniesky attended a conference of Marine Corps and Special Operations Command flag officers. Even at this late date,

despite the 20 February memorandum with Special

Operations Command, there continued to be ominous noises from outside the Marine Corps concerning how the detachment would be employed. Coates

briefed the detachment’s status and “received wideChapter 3

Training
spread support from the assembled Marine generals

that they would strongly resist efforts to split the detachment for deployment as proposed by Naval Special Warfare.”5 Widely divergent views concerning the

basic employment of the Marine unit did not bode

well for coordinated training and integration.

Execution of the mission training plan proceeded

even as the ultimate nature of the deployment was

unclear. There was no lack of clarity to the intent of

Colonel Coates’s mission training plan: to make sure

that his Marines were “brilliant at the fundamentals

of our craft—being able to shoot, move and communicate,” as well as equipped to excel at their individual tasks.6 For Det One, shooting would include

not only small arms but also close air support. In

Det One, moving would mean proficiency at

mounted operations as well as “strong backs and

hard feet,” as Coates said. For all Det One Marines,

communicating would mean using handheld radios

as well as complex tactical data links.

The entire detachment went through a combat

trauma course in the last week of June 2003, the goal

being “to provide each detachment member with

medical training required to immediately identify, effectively treat, and evacuate a battle casualty.”7 The

reconnaissance element took this training to the logical conclusion by conducting two days of simulated

casualty evacuations by helicopter.

Throughout the first three weeks of August, all

members of the detachment trained on the full range

of communications equipment and procedures. The

communications section drilled the Marines in every

aspect of the long-range radio equipment the detachment would be using, including high frequency,

satellite, and imagery transmissions, with an emphasis on the tools used in special reconnaissance. Subject matter experts from the radio manufacturers,

Harris RF Communications and the Thales Group, as

well as personnel from Marine Corps Systems Command, attended those sessions to provide the Marines

with firsthand answers and technical reach-back. Det

One then reinforced classroom instruction with a

practical application exercise: the reconnaissance element, augmented by the radio reconnaissance

teams, took up positions in the urban combat training facility at Marine Corps Air Station, Yuma, Arizona. Over the course of the next four hot August

days, they transmitted reports and imagery to the detachment operations center back in California at the

Del Mar boat basin.

Also in August, the Det One fires liaison element,

augmented by selected Marines from the reconnais32 DET ONE

Members of the intelligence element at Bridgeport, California, during the “Man-Ex” of October 2003. Col

Coates wanted all hands to have “hard feet and strong

backs” and be able to operate in any clime or place.

Maj M. Gerald Carter wanted all of his Marines to remember the experience so that when they analyzed the

topography and planned a route for the reconnaissance element to follow, they knew that there was more

to the terrain than lines on a map.

Photo courtesy of Det One
Training 33

sance element and the counterintelligence and radio

reconnaissance teams, went to Hurlburt Field at Eglin

Air Force Base, Florida, for a week of joint special

operations close air support. The Marines learned to

call for fire from AC-130 Spectre gunships and coordinate that aircraft’s considerable surveillance and

communications capabilities with their operations.

These exercises certified the fires liaison Marines as

joint terminal attack controllers, an important addition to their capabilities, as they would find out later

in Iraq.

The other major event of central importance for

the entire unit was range work with the M4 carbines

and the .45-caliber pistols. Weapons and Tactics

Package I began with the reconnaissance element on

7 July 2003 at Camp Pendleton’s Range 130, the Special Operations Training Complex. This range contained the sort of specialized facilities the detachment

needed, and since the majority of the reconnaissance

Marines had been in Pendleton-based units, it was

familiar ground for them.

When the reconnaissance Marines moved off

Range 130 after a week’s firing—and an enormous

amount of ammunition expended—Marines from the

other elements took their place. Every Marine is a rifleman, and Colonel Coates had decreed that every

Det One Marine would be proficient at the basic tools

of the gunfighting trade.* This training package began

with the fundamentals—grip, stance, sight alignment,

sight picture, trigger control—and progressed

through tactical reloading procedures and immediate

action drills, all under a time limit and under pressure. Each man was able to put his weapons through

their paces, get accustomed to the combinations of

optics and other devices, then test his magazines, discard the unreliable ones, and modify his gear layout.

The Marines shot so much that some came away astounded at how many rounds they sent downrange.

As Major Jerry Carter recalled, “I never thought that

in the Marine Corps I would shoot so many rounds

through a weapon that I would be tired of shooting

and my trigger finger would be numb.”8 All came

away with considerable, substantive confidence in

their gunfighting skills.

After their first week at Range 130, the reconnaissance Marines continued weapons and tactics fundamentals at one of the training areas at Camp

Pendleton. They went into two more weeks of patrolling, team tactics, contact drills, marksmanship,

and then moved on to infiltrations and live-fire attacks. Joined by the radio reconnaissance Marines,

they capped off the event with a 10-mile infiltration

march and a live-fire raid on a target. In this case,

weapons and tactics “fundamentals” is a relative term;

Captain Eric N. Thompson observed that the quality

of the Marines in the platoon—“independent thinkers

and independent operators”—enabled them to start

off at a fairly high level and progress quickly, so that

he did not have to concern himself overly with matters of safety and individual weapons proficiency and

could concentrate instead on training.9 This theme recurred throughout the detachment’s training period

and provided continuing proof that the right Marines

had been chosen for the unit.

Thanks to the existence of the unit’s training cell,

Thompson did not have to pull himself, or his platoon sergeant, or a team leader off the line to actually run the range, nor did he have to devote time to

develop the scenario and the target. The training cell

handled these matters and left the leaders free to attack the mission. As the calendar progressed and the

exercises became more complex, the ability to keep

the Marines focused on the mission rather than the

exercise would become a key element in the detachment’s success.

For the Marines from the other sections, the

biggest challenge was balancing their own weapons

training with their duties to support every ongoing

evolution, as well as the need to plan for future operations. Marines “one-deep” in their functional areas,

like Gunnery Sergeants Mark S. Kitashima and Monty

R. Genegabus, felt it the hardest. Colonel Coates’s insistence on brilliance in the basics in every area, as

painful as it was during the training phase, proved

its worth in Iraq, when Marines from the support sections had to serve as machine gunners and drivers on

direct action missions and members of the radio reconnaissance teams found themselves fighting for

their lives in Baghdad.

In addition to all these events, there was also

physical conditioning. From the beginning, Captain

Thompson and Master Sergeant Keith E. Oakes instituted a demanding physical training program for the

reconnaissance Marines. “Through the entire workup,

whether we were in the field or whether we were in

garrison, we always did a hike every week,” Thompson recalled. “That’s something that a lot of recon

units I found got away from . . . but that’s one of the

fundamentals of being a good reconnaissance Marine.”10 Oakes had initially decreed platoon physical

* The emphasis on essential combat skills for all hands presents another contrast with the prevailing attitude in other special operations units, which seem to prize the “shooter” as the zenith of

operational capability. In Det One, with its deeply rooted airground task force philosophy, shooting was a skill not a job description and the “shooter,” the Marine in the team making entry

into the target building, was but one part of the larger capability.
training twice a week, but after discussions with the

team leaders, he scaled back to once a week, and by

default that once a week became the road march—

the hike. Because he wanted his Marines to see their

steady progress week by week, Oakes chose a standard route: “We would always park up at [Camp] Flores, work up into the mountains, and then down on

the beach,” he remembered. “We always finished

here on the compound.”11 The Marines made the

hikes with full gear and full loads, about 60 pounds

per man, including food and water. In a platoon like

the Det One reconnaissance element, it was a reasonable expectation that the Marines knew all the

tricks of marching long distances and of arriving

ready for operations. But even in this case, the veteran Ranger instructor in Master Sergeant Oakes had

a few points to share. “The biggest thing was teaching them how to eat and drink properly, which was

what the Rangers taught me,” he explained. “I could

not afford to have guys that would hit the wall.”12 The

weekly hikes proved to be excellent preparation for

the coming exercise at Bridgeport, California, as well

as an all-around conditioning tool.

Bridgeport: “The Man-Ex”

The summer of 2003 ended on a sad note as one

member of the reconnaissance element, Sergeant

Christian W. Myler, died in a motorcycle accident on

6 September. The detachment paused its training for

memorial services and then resumed the march toward deployment.

The first item on the schedule for September was

two weeks in the cold waters off the Southern California coast practicing the skills of reconnaissance in

support of an amphibious landing. As the detachment’s destination for deployment was at that point

still not known, this block of training was part of the

requirement to maintain the core competencies, with

these skills also being a true Corps competency. The

Marines practiced long-range nautical navigation, hydrographic surveys, scout swimmer techniques, and

other skills pertaining to this highly specialized art.

They again demonstrated the depth and breadth of

experience in the reconnaissance element as the

Marines took only a day of rehearsals in the Del Mar

boat basin before they mounted out on a full-mission

profile, at night, in open water. Right before this

event was scheduled to begin, a helicopter flying

over the San Onofre beaches—where the hydrographic survey was to take place—spotted and photographed an altogether too realistic opposition force:

two great white sharks.13

With amphibious training checked off the list, the

entire detachment prepared for a fortnight at the

Mountain Warfare Training Center, Bridgeport, California. Few of the Marines were strangers to Bridgeport. The detachment was packed with trained

mountain leaders, and Major Kozeniesky, Master Sergeants Padilla and Muratori, among others, had been

instructors and staff members there. What made this

mountain training package different from any previous experience for the Det One Marines was the

speed at which Colonel Coates took them from acclimatization and a basic skills refresher to a high-altitude crucible over the toughest terrain in the center.

The Bridgeport exercise began with a review in

the technical skills of military mountaineering, the use

of which they would require later in the event. There

were perils at this stage, even for the experienced

Marines in the unit. Gunnery Sergeant John A. Dailey,

leader of Recon Team 4, took a fall while rappelling

that nearly sidelined him for the entire exercise. Loss

of a Marine due to injury was something the unit

could ill afford. For some of the Marines, military

mountaineering skills also included parachute jumps

on the high-altitude drop zones of the center. Within

a few days, the training schedule moved the detachment higher into the mountains for the next evolutions.

Marines from the support sections were as involved in the training as they were in the support of

the training. Although the logistics section could have

supported the entire exercise from Camp Del Mar,

part of Colonel Coates’s intent was to get the entire

detachment out into the field and put it under a microscope. Among other events, support section

Marines went through an abbreviated version of

Bridgeport’s mule-packing course, the only such program of instruction in the U.S. military. Mules can go

where vehicles and helicopters cannot go and would

have been valuable transportation assets had the detachment been sent to Afghanistan, as likely a course

of action as any at the time. This was a novel experience for the motor transport section. Military vehicles, although not without their own peculiarities, do

not bite or kick or throw off their loads. Gunnery Sergeant Jaime Maldonado and Staff Sergeant Jaime J.

Sierra learned how to pack the mules, feed them, and

then get them headed up into the mountains loaded

with food, water, and ammunition. “The animals, they

do their own thing,” Maldonado recalled. “When we

were packing them, it was okay, because they got

fed as they were getting packed. But the minute we

step off, they just keep going, they don’t stop.” 14 As

Gunnery Sergeant Genegabus, the logistics chief,

said: “The animals themselves are just hard-headed.

34 DET ONE
Training 35

We had one guy kicked off, one guy kicked, and one

guy bit.”15 Despite the hardheadedness of the beasts,

they could carry substantial loads. The detachment

subsequently used a mule train for resupply during

one phase of the tactical problem. As strange a military event as mule-packing might seem, Gunnery Sergeant Genegabus, for one, did not see it as

far-fetched at all, given the U.S. Army Special Forces’

recent experience in Afghanistan. 

The Bridgeport exercise served as the welcomeaboard package for a new member of the fires liaison

element, Captain Daniel B. “Shoe” Sheehan III,

brought on board as the forward air controller after

the original table of organization was augmented to

give the battle staff more depth. A Bell AH-1W Super

Cobra pilot just returned from Operation Iraqi Freedom, Sheehan was not only a new-join but also new

to the ground operations business. He had not served

in an air and naval gunfire liaison company (ANGLICO), nor in reconnaissance units, nor in a Special

Operations Training Group. He had two Marine expeditionary unit deployments under his belt, the second involving both a substantial period in Djibouti 

working with a joint special operations task force, as

well as combat flying in Iraq. He had tried but not

succeeded to gain entry into another arm of Special

Operations Command. That unit’s loss became Det

One’s gain.

The final week at Bridgeport was a memorable

navigation and “terrain appreciation” exercise with

“visits” to the highest peaks, where units normally do

not train.16 The experience level of the detachment

as a whole made training in the roughest parts of the

center possible, as did Major Kozeniesky’s recent

service there as operations officer. Captain Thompson of the reconnaissance element described the last

seven days as “half mountaineering skills and half gut

check, to make sure that we had the right crop of

guys that could march up and down mountains with

70-pound rucks, operate in the high altitude, and not

have a total mental meltdown.”17 He saw it as a “ManEx,” a straightforward test of each Marine’s manliness.

Colonel Coates described the Bridgeport exercise as

the detachment’s “selection,” revealing something of

his intent for the exercise beyond the utility of a tactical problem.18

The “terrain appreciation” exercise was a two-day

hike by element and team. Major Kozeniesky chose

the route with his intimate knowledge of the base

and designed the exercise to test each man’s ability

not only to hike at altitude with a heavy load, but

also to negotiate the terrain with tactical and technical expertise. Major Dolan, who had trained there

many years earlier as an enlisted Marine, called this

particular phase “very, very difficult, hard stuff.”19

Master Sergeant Padilla—former Bridgeport instructor, Royal Marines mountain instructor, and trained

mountain leader—said it was “probably the hardest

training” he had ever seen a unit do at the Mountain

Warfare Training Center.20 The last phase of the

Bridgeport exercise also illustrated the line separating

special and conventional operations: in special operations, the performance expectations increase rather

than decrease, even as the conditions get tougher.

The culmination of the “Man-Ex” was a direct action mission, preceded by another route march. The

Marines—two teams for reconnaissance and surveillance, and then the task-organized assault force—

were inserted approximately 20 miles from the

objective. The mission, according to Major Dolan,

“required a two-and-a-half day movement, across

two ridgelines, going over 10,000-foot passes.”21

Groups of Marines from an infantry battalion training

at Bridgeport were out looking for the reconnaissance and surveillance teams, adding to the realism

of the exercise. Then, as the helicopters arrived to

extract the force after the successful strike, the training cell had one more “kick in the nuts,” as Major

Kozeniesky put it. The aircraft set down unexpectedly in separate landing zones, and the pilots

handed the Det One Marines notes that read: “The

helicopters have just crashed; execute your evasion

and recovery plan.” The evading Marines linked up

according to plan, with counterintelligence teams

Photo courtesy of Patrick J. Rogers

GySgt Jaime Maldonado and SSgt Jaime J. Sierra prepare for a mission during the Capstone Exercise in

Nevada, December 2003. Every Marine in Det One

was issued with the same equipment and weapons,

and every one was expected to master the basic skills

such as gunfighting, communications, first aid, and

driving.
that guided them to safe territory.22

Executing this surprise event meant “another 8- or

10-hour movement across some horrendous terrain,”

according to Major Dolan, who recalled that by that

time, there were “not a lot of happy campers left.”

But the evasion exercise taught the Det One Marines

lessons about seeing the operation through to the

very end.23 It also validated the critical requirement

for detailed planning to cover contingencies, and it

exercised a significant capability of the counterintelligence section, again demonstrating how the detachment could use what other special operations

units might call the “non-operators” as integral parts

of the whole plan.

The experience at Bridgeport had the intended effect: it raised the stress level and gave the commanding officer an opportunity to examine every

man under extreme pressure. The crucible of the

“Man-Ex” also brought out some unarticulated personality conflicts. At the reconnaissance platoon debrief, a gathering of some “unhappy campers” after

the surprise evasion exercise, Master Sergeant Padilla

spoke up to provide some constructive criticism for

the platoon commander. The ensuing acerbic exchange, recounted with humor some 18 months later

by participants and witnesses alike, cleared the air

and cemented the personal and professional understandings between the reconnaissance element leadership.

Close Quarters Battle Training

A major qualitative leap in the reconnaissance element’s tactical capabilities came in October 2003 on

the heels of the Bridgeport exercise. Returning to

Camp Pendleton’s Range 130, the reconnaissance

Marines immersed themselves in a groundbreaking

close-quarters battle package unlike anything they

had ever experienced. The reconnaissance element

36 DET ONE

GySgt John A. Dailey’s and SSgt Jack A. Kelly’s teams

during the Capstone Exercise. These Marines, task-organized for reconnaissance and surveillance with the

addition of radio recon and fires Marines, bore the

brunt of the cold weather in the high desert of Nevada.

This photo shows both the protective clothing, procured

for them by Jon Laplume at Soldier Systems Command,

as well the Full Spectrum Battle Equipment, which

could be tailored to each Marine’s duties and personal

preference. 

Photo courtesy of Patrick J. Rogers
Training 37

knew its business individually and collectively from

several years of deployments. It was also a platoon

loaded with close-quarters battle instructors: Master

Sergeant Oakes and Gunnery Sergeant Morrison, to

name only two, had spent time as special operations

training group shooting instructors. All were experienced marksmen and tacticians, giving them the right

foundation to rapidly achieve a higher level of proficiency. But they were about to be challenged to

begin thinking critically about how they needed to

conduct their operations.

In order to break away from the Marine Corps

close quarters combat model, the detachment contracted directly for the services of a retired U.S. Army

Special Forces soldier, a veteran of a tier-one Special

Operations Command unit. He first observed them as

they breached and cleared a structure. He did not like

what he saw and told the Marines that what they

were doing was not going to cut it against the opponents they would be facing. The new set of tactics

and techniques he taught them was “vastly different

from what we did, as Marines, up to this point,” said

Captain Thompson. He called the experience “very

enlightening.”24 No substantial change is easy, and

not all of the Marines immediately embraced the new

methods. 

Staff Sergeant Alex N. Conrad, one of the reconnaissance scouts, described the difficult but constructive change. The instructor “taught us what we

needed to do,” but then “we went into the house [the

specially constructed building for live-fire close quarters battle training], and we reverted back to our old

tactics.” Conrad remembered that the retired Special

Forces soldier yelled “‘stop, stop. Stop right there.’

He just told us, ‘this is not going to work. Here’s what

we’re going to do, and this is how we’re going to do

it. Get back out of the house and re-do this, one thing

at a time.’” He told them bluntly that their old tactics

were going to get them killed. When he demonstrated how their methods were slower and less effective than his—by having some Marines watch from

a gallery in the house while the others went through

the problem using both ways—he got his point

across.25 Conrad credits him with engineering a complete reversal in the reconnaissance element’s tactical

mindset. “He changed our way of thinking. I think

that was the turning point.”26

The main issue the experience highlighted, and

the one that cut to the essence of the larger

USMC/SOCom relationship, was the divergence of

Marine Corps close quarter battle tactics with those

used by the upper-tier SOCom units. “Basically,” said

Master Sergeant Padilla, “we were using dinosaur tactics.”27 The big switch was a change from their familiar “initiative-based tactics” to the more fluid and dynamic “team-based tactics.” Initiative-based tactics

relied on a single point of entry into a target house.

Team-based tactics, on the other hand, enabled the

Marines to simultaneously hit that target from more

angles, then flow rapidly from room to room, maintaining the speed, shock, and violence of action they

needed to gain the upper hand and prevail.

The new tactics prompted a structural change in

the detachment. The reconnaissance platoon reorganized from four teams of seven Marines each to six

teams of four or five Marines each. Staff Sergeant Jack

A. Kelly, assistant team leader in Master Sergeant

Terry M.Wyrick’s Team 1, and Gunnery Sergeant Sidney J. Voss from Gunnery Sergeant Dailey’s Team 4

became the leaders of Teams 5 and 6. (Although the

detachment received no new corpsmen to fill out the

new structure, the platoon had enough certified

emergency medical technicians—Staff Sergeant Kelly

being one of them—to cover the basic requirements.)

The introduction of team-based tactics to Det

One’s reconnaissance element was more of a significant single addition to its toolbox than a wholesale

replacement. Some of the younger Marines in the platoon took to team-based tactics more readily than the

older ones and saw it as a day-and-night change, but

the more wily and seasoned among them adopted a

comprehensive view. Master Sergeant Wyrick pointed

out later that most of the detachment’s direct action

missions in Iraq were conducted using individualPhoto courtesy of Patrick J. Rogers

Det One’s armorer, GySgt Mark S. Kitashima, conducts instruction on the M2 .50-caliber heavy machine gun during the Capstone Exercise, at Mercury,

Nevada, in December 2004.
based tactics because of the nature of many of the

targets in that close-in urban setting precluded attack

from multiple angles. Yet the Det One Marines were

nearly unanimous in assessing the team-based tactics

as a major improvement in thinking, in how they

looked at a target as a whole, not just the actions on

the inside. It was that change in the Marines’ approach that produced the enduring improvement in

their capabilities.

The Det One staff was also undergoing an important training session during the month of October, a

two-week staff integration exercise with SEAL Team

One, which had become Squadron One after taking

on its full complement of attachment and augments.

The detachment was only half the size of the

squadron but brought completely different capabilities. The squadron had six platoons of operators; the

detachment had one platoon of reconnaissance

Marines, who averaged more than a dozen years

each on active duty. The squadron had an intelligence officer and some intelligence specialists,

whereas the detachment had its self-contained 30-

man intelligence platoon, capable of independent

communications with national assets and organic fusion from all intelligence sources. The squadron had

SEALs who were certified in supporting arms; the detachment had the fires liaison element, including two

combat pilots. Fully drawing out the combined capabilities with Squadron One was a prickly process,

requiring a great deal of patience and flexibility on

both sides. Much of the efforts centered “defining

how we fight as institutions,” as Major Kozeniesky

put it—the differences in how the SEALs and Marines

view tactical problems and solutions. The process of

integration was not helped by the fact that the destination for the deployment was still being debated at

the service level.

Practice on skill at arms continued into November

2003, when the fires liaison element took the reconnaissance and radio reconnaissance Marines to the

Air Ground Combat Center at Twentynine Palms, California, for a week of planning and calling close air

support. Like other Det One training events, this exercise deviated significantly from similar events in

other units. A conventional unit would have set up an

overt observation post on one of two or three prominent terrain features and called in mission after mission. Major Dolan, however, devised a more practical

exercise for the Det One element tailored to situations a reconnaissance team might encounter on a

mission, far away from supporting units. The Det

One Marines did a half-day of refresher training on

the “nine-line brief,” the close air support call for fire,

and then ascended the rocky desert hills where they

constructed tactical observation posts and ran live

missions more in line with their operations. The missions concentrated on calling for support while

breaking contact with the enemy, therefore involving

synchronization of the helicopters with small-arms

fire, individual movement, and the dozen other actions that a team needs to perform to get itself out of

a tight spot. Dolan’s work was made easier by the

same qualities in the Marines that Captain Thompson

and others had remarked more than once: they had

been through this training before and they knew their

business. Refresher training always strengthens and

hones the skills that are prone to atrophy, but the Det

One Marines had enough experience and prior

knowledge to go from rehearsals to live runs on targets within one day.28

The other significant event in November was the

arrival of the detachment’s 18 Mercedes-Benz interim

fast attack vehicles to add to their small fleet of all-terrain vehicles. The motor-transport section leaped to

the task of making these machines ready for service.

Gunnery Sergeant Maldonado and Staff Sergeant

Sierra needed to get the vehicles inspected, set up,

and modified for Det One operations and then get

several dozen Marines licensed to drive them before

the detachment’s capstone exercise, scheduled for

the following month, in which the vehicles would see

heavy use.

Finally, no mention of the month of November

would be complete without reference to the Marine

Corps Birthday. The commemoration of this event

proceeds in lesser or greater form wherever Marines

are stationed throughout the world, as conditions

permit; the Det One Marines, after training hard for

months, chose a venue that let them play hard too.

The command chronology for the period mentions

“well-deserved liberty and revelry” and celebration in

“grand fashion” at a Las Vegas hotel, but it is uncharacteristically silent on further details.

The Capstone Exercise

Just as Marine expeditionary units progress to

“special operations capable” certification and then deployment through a series of ever more complex and

challenging exercises, Det One continued to set its

own bar higher as 2003 drew to a close. In December, the detachment deployed en masse to Nevada

for the capstone exercise, a full test of the unit’s capabilities. Although not the ruck-humping “Man-Ex”

of Bridgeport, the capstone exercise tested the complete range of the unit’s operational abilities in trying

conditions and against exceptionally difficult targets.

38 DET ONE
Training 39

It was also the last major event scheduled before actual integration with the SEALs, the final chance to

nail down the procedures and hone the fighting

edge. Selected observers from I Marine Expeditionary

Force Special Operations Training Group and Headquarters Marine Corps (among them Master Gunnery

Sergeant Joseph G. Settelen III) were on hand to evaluate and critique.

The U.S. Department of Energy’s Nevada Test Site

is located 65 miles from Las Vegas. It is a big chunk

of high desert, larger than many small countries, and

just the place Det One needed for this exercise.29 The

terrain, climate, isolation, and facilities provided the

perfect venue for the detachment’s second to last operational test. The Nevada Test Site was also new terrain, as none of the Marines had ever trained there

before.

The detachment’s first task was setting up the forward operating base at the Indian Springs Auxiliary

Airfield, the basic living and working spaces where

the unit could house its command and control functions, and where the Marines could prepare for missions and refit afterward. Although fixed facilities

were readily available, Colonel Coates chose to make

the unit’s footprint as expeditionary as possible—to

“do it all in the dirt,” as he put it—in order to ensure

that all of the detachment’s elements addressed and

worked through any problems that might arise from

being away from Camp Pendleton. Within 24 hours,

Det One Marines had set up the tents and basic utilities and were preparing to execute the training

schedule. Never one to mince words, Captain

Thompson described the austere Indian Springs

camp as a very good replication of “a Third World

shit-hole.”30 The communications section set up the

Trojan Spirit Lite and had connectivity within an hour;

the combat operations center was functional within

six hours.31

Marines from Company K, 3d Battalion, 5th

Marines, provided the opposition force for the exercise, but the real adversary was nature itself. Although the detachment’s records make no mention

of the weather, Det One Marines remember it clearly.

Sergeant Guerra’s network equipment was the first

casualty of the cold high Nevada desert. The nonexpeditionary servers, hand carried from Camp Pendleton and crucial to the detachment’s command and

control, did not work. Guerra had what he called “the

four most stressful days of my life.” He had brought

out three servers, all quality pieces of gear in a garrison setting. In the field, two failed immediately.

While he worked to get some information systems

capability up and running, he hounded the manufacturer to send out replacements. The manufacturer

delivered, but not in time to spare Guerra the unwanted attentions of the staff: “Every five minutes I

get, ‘Is the network up? Is the network up? Is the network up?’”

Sergeant Guerra’s private nightmare continued as

the one Marine he had working with him became ill,

and the one server he had managed to get working

crashed. Guerra had to rebuild the entire network

from scratch, by himself. What was normally a few

hours’ work took four days.32 Although he did not

appreciate it at the time, the painful experience at the

capstone exercise served him well on the deployment, when he had his networks up and running

within hours of arrival at the detachment’s compound

in Baghdad. The weather did not single out Sergeant

Guerra; it affected the intelligence section, too. The

intense cold froze the ink in the plotters that printed

out the maps and other intelligence products, at least

temporarily disrupting a critical piece of the staff

work.33

Marines in the assault forces and reconnaissance

and surveillance teams also were lashed hard by the

weather. The detachment’s expensive equipment—

in this case, the latest layered clothing system procured by Jon Laplume from Soldier Systems

Command at Natick, Massachusetts—again proved its

worth and kept the sniper teams functioning in their

A Det One Marine backs an Interim Fast Attack Vehicle onto a KC-130 Hercules for a long-range insertion during the Capstone Exercise in Nevada,

December 2003. That exercise marked the first heavy

use of the vehicles, which, as the photo shows, were

almost brand-new. Unfortunately, just before the deployment the Interim Fast Attack Vehicles were found

unsuitable for the assigned direct action missions the

detachment in Iraq.

Photo courtesy of Patrick J. Rogers
hide sites. Still, there were other aspects of the

weather they could do nothing about. Master Sergeant Padilla vividly described the result of a very

long movement in their interim fast attack vehicles

during the exfiltration phase of one of the direct action missions. “We should have known better, but we

had taken off all the windshields. . . . I don’t know

what the hell we were thinking. . . . With the wind

chill it must have been -10 degrees. Guys were just

freezing.”34 Hospital Corpsman First Class Matthew S.

Pranka, the corpsman in Padilla’s team, agreed: “It

was just nasty. They picked the absolute worst

time.”35

The detachment executed two full-mission profile

raids during the capstone exercise: one was a simunitions raid and the other a full live-fire raid.* The

live-fire attack included both sniper shots and baseof-fire support from M240G machine guns manned

by Marines taken from the support sections, which

allowed the detachment to concentrate the reconnaissance element in assault force.36 In their after-action report, the observers from I MEF Special

Operations Training Group noted the use of non-reconnaissance Marines in precision fire support.

The first mission was a raid on a missile site suspected to be under terrorist control. The Det One

training cell and the I MEF Special Operations Training Group had crafted a difficult target, including underground tunnels and other features that would

confound all but the most careful observation and

analysis and possibly draw the assault forces into a

trap. The reconnaissance and surveillance teams,

task-organized with the addition of fires and radio reconnaissance Marines, were quickly inserted, established their hide sites, and began reporting back to

the combat operations center while the assault force

was forming its plan and rehearsing its actions. The

plan called for insertion of the assault force in fast attack vehicles; the final assault would be made on

foot. One of the primary training objectives for the

members of reconnaissance element was to shake

out the fast attack vehicles, equipment still so new

that the paint was clean and the tires dark black.

They learned a good deal on how to employ the vehicles in raids, not just how to drive them and maintain them, but how many it would take to get the full

raid force to the objective.37 The plan was further enhanced by loading the reconnaissance and surveillance teams and their vehicles on Marine Corps

KC-130 Hercules transport aircraft, flying them to a

dry lakebed, and disgorging them at night in a “hot

unload” while the plane’s engines were still turning.

Even though the close-quarter actions on the objective would be done with simunitions, the plan included live-fire close air support to isolate the

objective. Providing the outer cordon for the operation were Marines from Company K, 3d Battalion, 5th

Marines, some of whom were also providing the

“enemy” on the target site.

The raid was a success, due as much to careful

analysis, good staff planning, and rigorous rehearsals

as to the skillful actions on the objective. The detachment’s intelligence analysts had constructed an

accurate picture of the target site and had spotted indications of underground works, so the assault force

was able to plan accordingly. Master Gunnery Sergeant Settelen, posted on the roof of the target building as an observer, watched the assault unfold: “Right

on their timeline, they came up out of the shadows,

set up, and did a simultaneous multiside breach into

the facility, and then the gunships sealed off the other

side of the objective to make sure that they didn’t

have ‘squirters’ [enemy personnel escaping through

gaps in the cordon].”38 The fog of war reigned inside

the building when smoke generators emplaced to

create a haze malfunctioned and instead created what

Settelen called “a black hole.” He also noted, with

some satisfaction, that even in the confusion, noise,

and smoke, the assault force refused to be sucked

into the underground trap the exercise designers had

laid for them: “They isolated both sides of the tunnel

based on excellent geospatial analysis, and then they

just pinned [the enemy] in there and kept them in

there while they sensitive-site-exploited the rest of

the target,” eliminating several enemy and seizing the

high value target they were looking for, aided by

photographs for positive identification.*39

It is the job of the evaluators to take even a successful mission and pick it apart, to mention the little things that can be improved, and to highlight

mistakes that can cost dearly on actual operations.

Again, Master Gunnery Sergeant Settelen provided

the best commentary: “SOTG dinged the snipers a little bit because they were on the forward slope and a

real seasoned evaluator was able to pick up the difference in the camouflage between some of the

hides. As far as an untrained eye [being able to do

that]? Maybe not, but we were being real critical on

40 DET ONE

* Simunitions are training rounds fired from modified weapons that

exhibit ballistic performance similar to live ammunition at short

ranges. They are ideal training aids for close quarters combat. 

* Sensitive site exploitation (SSE) is the critical process of quickly

but thoroughly searching a target and removing anything of potential intelligence value. Items and people seized in SSE frequently yield intelligence for the prosecution of other targets, as

Det One operations in Iraq would show.
Training 41

ourselves. We didn’t want to make any mistakes.”40

Also observing from the roof, and with an equally

critical eye, was Commander William W. Wilson,

USN, commanding officer of Naval Special Warfare

Squadron One and Det One’s future task group commander. This proof-of-concept operation with Det

One was Wilson’s first experience with Marine Corps

units. His previous assignments had taken him in directions away from the amphibious Navy and Marine

operating forces, although he had served with individual Marines in other places and at other times. Significantly for the detachment, one of those

individuals was Major Jerry Carter. If he was new to

working with Marine units, Wilson was no stranger to

the Marine Corps; his father was a Marine officer, and

he had grown up on and around Marine bases across

the country.41 The veteran SEAL had a vested interest

in closely examining how far the detachment had

progressed in training to Special Operations Command standards. He liked what he saw, especially the

ability of the entire unit to execute a successful hit

on a complex and difficult target from the staff planning to reconnaissance and surveillance, then assault,

exploitation, and extraction.42

Colonel Coates issued the warning order for the

second raid within 24 hours after the conclusion of

the first mission, once the after-action reviews were

done and the troops had had a chance to recover.

The target this time was a simulated terrorist training

camp, and this mission would be a full live-fire hit.

Again, reconnaissance and surveillance teams were

inserted and began reporting and transmitting imagery. As they had with the first mission, the intelligence element used a versatile computer program to

produce detailed models of the target buildings,

using the imagery they pulled in from various

sources. “Literally, it looks like a video game,” said

Gunnery Sergeant Kenneth C. Pinckard; the topographic and imagery analysts “can actually build their

own models” in virtual reality and then have the assault force “walk through” the buildings or the route

to the target. The detachment had had the program,

called Sextant, for some time, but the capstone exercise was its first real opportunity to put it to the test.43

Staff Sergeant Benjamin J. Cushing of Recon Team 4

figured out how to take the waypoints stored on a

global positioning system receiver and download

them as a file to a laptop computer, then transmit that

file by radio to the combat operations center. In that

way, the assault force had instant access to the reFollowing Col Coates’ dictum that every Det One Marine would be a gunfighter, Marines from the headquarters sections were regularly integrated into the

raid force regardless of specialty. Sgt Victor M. Guerra

and another Marine are shown above on a M240G

7.62mm machine gun in support of the live-fire raid

during the Capstone Exercise in Nevada. 

Photo courtesy of Patrick J. Rogers
sults of the reconnaissance and surveillance teams’

navigation and scouting, the routes, the hide sites,

and the covered and concealed positions.44

By exploiting the imagery, the information sent

back from the observation posts, and the resulting

Sextant models of the target site, the staff divided the

target into thirds and devised a plan to take it. Master Gunnery Sergeant Settelen also observed this mission, although not from a rooftop inside the site. He

described how the supporting machine guns engaged

the target: “On cue—they were using red, white, and

blue as the flare signals—they were lifting and shifting fires on each third of the camp as [the assault

force] went in,” with the beaten zone of the machine

gun fire only meters in front of the assault force and

keeping pace with its advance. Marines from the fires

element controlled live close air support as the assault force swept the objective, consolidated and did

a quick site exploitation, then withdrew quickly in

good order to the vehicles for a long, frigid, exfiltration back to Indian Springs. There was a casualty exercise thrown in at the height of the assault that was

handled by the detachment’s corpsmen, and a helicopter flew in for casualty evacuation while the fireworks were still underway by the fires liaison

element.45

Elements of Squadron One, in addition to Commander Wilson, were also on hand for approximately

one week. However, their training and the Marines’

training were handled as separate events. Integrated

operations at the platoon level were never a goal and

therefore not an issue. The gap remained at the staff

level. Since the staff integration exercise in October,

no one had made much progress on that level. Det

One leadership strongly believed that closer staff cooperation during the capstone exercise would have

been highly beneficial for both groups.*

In direct action missions, the assault force tends to

receive the most attention, but every element of the

detachment was fully employed and tested during

this exercise. The reconnaissance and surveillance

teams endured the vile weather while performing

every conceivable task in support of the missions.

They found the routes, scouted the positions, guided

the assault force, provided sniper support, and reported what they saw and heard. The fires liaison element was able to work live close air support on the

targets and bring aircraft into a landing zone during

an assault. The support sections did their critical but

unheralded work and then manned the crew-served

weapons for base-of-fire operations. The intelligence

element employed the entire spectrum of its disciplines, from weather forecasting, to connectivity with

national assets, to analytical work, and to distribution

of photographs of the “high value targets” to every

member of the assault force. The intelligence Marines

also got an unexpected bonus out of the exercise: a

good look at the Air Force’s Predator unmanned aerial vehicles, which were home-based at Indian

Springs. Seizing this opportunity, they integrated a

few Predator flights into their reconnaissance and surveillance plans, learning much about the platform.46

The training cell was justifiably pleased with the

results of the capstone exercise. Captain Fiscus 

summed up the experience: “We built some exercises

that stretched the detachment’s limits physically,

mentally and emotionally.” He admitted it was “a very

difficult evolution to put together, supervise, and execute.” “But,” he continued, “it paid huge dividends,

as we noticed our shortfalls, we pushed the operating limits of our equipment and our personnel and

our planning procedures.”47

The senior enlisted Marines also assessed the exercise as a significant milestone. Master Sergeant

Rutan echoed Captain Fiscus’s opinions, believing

that the capstone exercise, even more than Bridgeport “Man-Ex,” forged the detachment into a cohesive operational unit. Master Sergeant Oakes agreed:

“It brought out a lot in the platoon that I liked. We

did a lot of long-range missions—very long range—

42 DET ONE

* Cdr Wilson stated that a conscious decision was made in the

Naval Special Warfare hierarchy to allow the Marines to conduct

this exercise without oversight or participation by NSW elements.

Photo courtesy of Patrick J. Rogers

Team leaders and Maj Craig S. Kozeniesky (back to

camera) prepare for a mission during the Capstone

Exercise in Nevada. While Kozeniesky checks the settings on his AN/PRC-148 tactical hand-held radio, the

other two pass last-minute information on the mission.
Training 43

60- to 100-kilometer round-trip missions, nighttime

driving, long-range navigation . . . a long distance to

move and a tight timeline to get there. . . . It was a

‘bringing together.’”48

Major Kozeniesky looked beyond the immediate

results of the exercise to the unit’s deployment, still

months away. He pointed out that before the capstone exercise, “we largely engaged in element and

platoon training,” but at the capstone exercise, “we

formed the raid force which later became Task Unit

Raider and started to figure out a concept of employment.” The Marines demonstrated what they had

been saying for months: that the value of the task

force was greater than the sum its parts.49

Integration

The year 2004 began with a combat trauma training package for the fires and intelligence elements,

identical to the course run six months previously for

the reconnaissance element. Other events in January

included more sniper training for the reconnaissance

Marines, a naval gunfire refresher for the fires liaison

element, and an off-road driving course for Marines

from across the detachment.

The long-awaited full integration with Squadron

One—the certification exercise—was scheduled for

late January. However, according to the command

chronology, “uncertainty about the location and organization of the deployment” suddenly put the

event off.50 For much of the training phase, Det One

members thought that their destination might very

well be Afghanistan. At one point, the probable destination emerged as the Horn of Africa. Another option lingering for months had the detachment divided

between U.S. Pacific Command and U.S. Central

Command, which the Det One leadership and the

Marine Corps hierarchy resisted strongly, maintaining

that a split deployment was not in keeping with the

letter or spirit of the memorandum of agreement with

Naval Special Warfare. By January 2004, all of those

options were out; Iraq was the destination, with the

detachment to be used primarily in urban direct action.* The abrupt decisions on the deployment postponed the certification exercise and caused the

detachment staff to rethink several aspects of their

preparedness.

Conveniently, the rescheduling of the exercise

opened a gap in the detachment’s calendar. The staff

deftly turned this unexpected “white space” on the

training schedule to the detachment’s advantage. In

order to maintain the edge and refine procedures, the

unit moved to Camp Talega, a remote site at Camp

Pendleton, for a concentration on direct action. Although not as meteorologically challenging as the exercise in Nevada, the Talega exercise provided

another opportunity for the detachment to work full

mission profiles out of an expeditionary setting, putting into practice the lessons the Marines learned in

the capstone exercise and leaning more in the direction of urban warfare rather than special reconnaissance. To this end, they were able to leverage an

ongoing event in the abandoned housing area at

March Air Reserve Base, Riverside, California—Project Metropolis, an effort employing extensive use of

role players in training Marines units headed for

Iraq—and experience a “very realistic opposition

force” on one direct action mission.51 The realism became clear later to some of the Det One Marines. “It

was right on the money for our training,” recalled

Master Sergeant Oakes. “We didn’t know it at the

time, but that March Air Force Base, with the urban

environment, with Iraqi actors, was exactly what we

were going to be doing in the future.”52 The Talega

exercise further refined the capabilities of the raid

force that was built at Mercury, but it also suffered

from the same deficiency: it was a Marine-only show,

on the eve of a Navy-Marine certification exercise and

deployment.

In early February 2004, on the heels of the Talega

exercise, a small party consisting of Major Kozeniesky, Major Carter, and Captain Kress flew to Southwest Asia with members of Squadron One’s

leadership for a pre-deployment site survey. Their

first stop was the Naval Special Warfare support unit

in Bahrain, the administrative headquarters of all

SEAL forces in the region. Next they flew to Baghdad, where they visited Naval Special Warfare

Squadron Seven, which they would shortly relieve.

The site survey team came back with a “much better understanding of the requirements for the deployment,” according to Major Kozeniesky. During

their five days in Baghdad, the Det One officers saw

how their units would be laid out, based on

Squadron Seven’s operations: one task unit in the

North, one task unit in the West, and the headquarters and two task units in Baghdad. Concurrently,

they saw that their interim fast attack vehicles, newly

acquired and thoroughly exercised in Nevada, were

not what they needed for urban direct action. They

needed hunekers, and in particular a new special op-

* The decision for deployment to Iraq did not occur until “December 2003, at the SOCom-USMC Warfighter Conference,” wrote

Col Coates. SOCom commander Gen Bryan D. Brown “made the

decision for the detachment to deploy to Iraq with the possibility

of a follow-on deployment to Afghanistan when I briefed him on

the status of the detachment and the proposed split deployment.”

Col Coates email to author, 13 April 2006.
erations-specific model based on Squadron Seven’s

in-house modifications of armor and assaulting

equipment. A resolution to that problem, as important as it was, would have to wait.53

Finally, Commander Wilson and Major Kozeniesky

visited the headquarters of the Combined Forces Special Operations Component Command in Qatar. Det

One’s executive officer was dismayed to find that the

special operations headquarters did not know that

the detachment was coming with Squadron One, in

fact barely knew of its existence, and thus had not

planned for the employment of its capabilities. Combined Forces Special Operations Component Command, for its part, was quite pleased to have an extra

direct action force emerge from nowhere.

Following the snap evolution at Talega, the detachment was informed that the certification exercise

would now be held in late February 2004. As such,

the detachment’s training phase command structure

also ended, and Det One came under the actual control of Naval Special Warfare Command, as spelled

out in the memorandum of 20 February 2003, although on paper the detachment had come under

control of Squadron One in December.

The certification exercise saw the end of Det One

as a self-contained task force. The principle staff officers were absorbed into the squadron staff: Major

Kozeniesky became the senior Marine and squadron

operations officer; Major Carter became the squadron

intelligence officer; and Major Priddy and Major

Dolan respectively became the squadron fires and air

officers. The individual staff sections assumed a role

of direct support to the task group as a whole, not

just the Marine task unit. Marines from the intelligence element—counterintelligence, radio reconnaissance, and some analysts—were detached out to

support the task units, providing those capabilities

and skills that these units did not otherwise possess.

Few Marines, especially on the staff, were happy

about the new assignments.

At the same time, Det One received a welcome

addition from Squadron One, four explosive ordnance disposal (EOD) technicians, who were

promptly added to the rolls. This critical military occupational specialty was not represented in the Det

One table of organization—a deficiency noted by

SOTG evaluators at the capstone exercise.54 Headquarters Marine Corps had refused to draw on the

EOD community to staff the detachment, anticipating that operations in Iraq would require every available Marine EOD technician. In the final event, the

addition of Navy EOD technicians rather than

Marines was the right course of action since, as Major

Kozeniesky noted, “they multiplied our combat

power more so than Marine EOD due to their consistent work with special operations forces.”55 All four

men were absorbed into the reconnaissance element.

The certification exercise was designed to simulate how Squadron One expected its task units would

be employed across Iraq, based on how Squadron

Seven was addressing the mission and the anticipated

requirement to do likewise. Edwards Air Force Base,

California, served as the “Baghdad” hub, where

Squadron One would have its headquarters. Two task

units were sent to outlying locations that, in Iraq,

would be in the West and North. Two other task units

were retained at the hub. During the five days of the

certification exercise, the squadron executed four full

mission profiles, a taxing operational tempo by any

measure, as the staff had to support three sites spread

over hundreds of miles. The Marine task unit, comprised mostly of the reconnaissance element, performed up to and beyond standards and

expectations.

Most Det One Marines remember the certification

exercise as a good evolution but not an exceptionally

tough one in the sense that Bridgeport and Nevada

were. Gunnery Sergeant Dailey noticed some new aspects of integration, “tweaks” to the operating procedures and briefing points, but neither of their two

direct action missions, including the one they conducted in conjunction with a SEAL task unit, elicited

44 DET ONE

A Marine from Company K, 3d Battalion, 5th

Marines, serving as a “terrorist” during the Capstone

Exercise in Nevada, pauses to eat his Meals Ready to

Eat. The flak vest, gloves, helmet, face guard, and light

colored bands on the barrel of his rifle all indicate the

use of simunitions, the realistic training tool for closequarters battle.

Photo courtesy of Patrick J. Rogers
Training 45

much commentary.56 That second mission was led by

Major Kozeniesky as overall raid force commander. A

few of the more senior enlisted Marines noticed some

undercurrents of the old, highly competitive Marine/SEAL relationship at work but took it in stride.

“It’s frustrating,” remarked Master Sergeant Wyrick,

“but at the same time I’ve done this enough to know

that if you just keeping doing what you do, and you

do it well, eventually they’re going to have to give

you the ball. They’re going to have to because you’re

going to show that the capabilities and competencies

you have exceed what they have.”57 Gunnery Sergeant Pinckard, the All-Source Fusion Chief, regretted

the rapid mission cycle in the certification exercise

not because it was demanding but that it left no room

for “any decent analytical work.”58

As is frequently the case in any military operation,

the views from opposite ends of the chain-of-command differed. Since activation, the detachment had

trained intensively on its own, commanding and controlling itself. The staff integration exercise with

Squadron One provided a baseline for joint work, but

before the certification exercise there had been no

evaluated evolutions run with an integrated staff

under one commander. Then the detachment command element found itself broken up, absorbed into

a larger whole, no longer focused solely on its unit,

and in the middle of a zero-defects evaluation in front

of a tough audience. Many Marines in the command

element looked back on the Nevada and Talega exercises and shook their heads ruefully at the missed

opportunities to achieve the “same gain with less

pain.” Here at the eleventh hour, for better or for

worse, was the product of the separate-but-equal

training schedule and the whole host of tensions between Special Operations Command and the Marine

Corps. The new arrangement worked, but it was to

few Marines’ liking. As Major Carter put it: “It showed

us that the baby was ugly.”59 But the offspring, ugly

or not, need to be loved because it was alive and

kicking and headed for Iraq. The Det One staff members shouldered their packs and joined their SEAL

brethren in making the exercise a success, showing

that the Marine Corps warfighting ethos and basic

Marine Corps staff work were completely relevant in

the SOCom realm.

Commander Wilson, who had both a golden operational opportunity and an unenviable task, must

get the lion’s share of credit for making the arrangement work. No one, including Wilson himself, was

truly happy with the shotgun wedding, and all the

Marines sensed that Wilson faced enormous pressures from within his own community. It was clear

that he had authority to make changes in task organization, and if he wanted the whole unit to increase

its capabilities, he had to make some hard decisions.

That he immediately supplanted some of his own

staff with the principle Marine staff officers suggests

that he recognized what they could do for the whole

unit, and that he would not hesitate to do what he

thought was best. Command is not, after all, a popularity contest.*

Integration issues aside, most of the Det One staff

officers described the certification exercise as a good

test for conditions in Iraq. Even Major Dolan, admittedly no fan of Naval Special Warfare, called it a “topnotch exercise.”60 The Marines received high marks

from a host of observers and evaluators. Naval Special Warfare Group One, the squadron’s higher headquarters, declared the unit mission-capable and ready

for the fight.**

Last-Minute Preparations

After the certification exercise was over, the detachment turned to last-minute issues. The intelligence element provided a range of briefs on Iraq and

the situation there. Others Marines busied themselves

packing gear and staging it at the Camp Del Mar

compound while the staff made refinements to the

deployment plans. All hands looked forward to predeployment leave. The support elements of the detachment went back to Range 130 to revisit their

individual weapons skills, while the reconnaissance

element looked to broaden its tactics, techniques,

and procedures for close-quarters combat.

Meanwhile, the motor transport section faced a

major problem. The relatively late realization that the

detachment would need a new set of vehicles threw

a big wrench into the predeployment works. When

Major Kozeniesky brought back the word on vehicles—“we needed hunekers and we needed them in

a big way”—there was no time to get the new gear

before the onset of the certification exercise, and then

no time during the exercise since all hands were fully

* In the post-deployment study on the detachment by Joint Special

Operations University, the Squadron One Command Master Chief

succinctly described Cdr Wilson’s dilemma and his success: “Has

this been harder? Yeah, it’s been harder on the boss. . . . [He] has

had to try to take our side and their side and it’s been a monumental struggle to do it so that nobody’s pissed off. . . . Commander Wilson’s probably the only guy that could’ve done it.” Joint

Special Operations University study, C-5.

** Maj Wade Priddy pointed out later that when Group One declared the unit ready to deploy, it did not include a specific certification of Det One by itself. He was told at the pre-exercise

conference that Group One had no authority to decide such a matter, and it was left up to the Marine Corps. Maj Priddy email to author, 31 August 2006.
involved.61 By the time the dust had settled from certification exercise, it was clear that Det One was not

going to receive the vehicles it needed before deployment. There were none to be had on such short

notice, and not even SOCom’s authority nor the detachment’s own acquisitions prowess could pull that

rabbit out of a hat. Gunnery Sergeant Maldonado and

Staff Sergeant Sierra were ordered to go find whatever hunekers the Marine Corps had, grab the best

ones they could, and then get to work on modifying

them.

The two went immediately to Marine Corps Logistics Base at Barstow, California, to see what

hunekers were available in the cast-off lot. Not surprisingly, all they found were wrecks, hulks in various states of disrepair. Many had been out in that

desert lot for years. Sierra, a certified civilian mechanic who gained those credentials before he enlisted, put on his coveralls and crawled in and around

the vehicles while Maldonado wrote down the discrepancies. Choosing the “best” vehicles they could

find, they had about a dozen of them transported

back to the detachment compound. There, giving up

their own predeployment leave, the two Marines

worked day after day to strip the hunekers down and

get them back in basic running order. Making the

special modifications—armor, assault platforms, infrared headlights, scaling ladders and machinegun

mounts—would have to wait until they got to Iraq.

When the time came to deploy, not all of the rebuilds

were finished, but they were ready enough to get on

and off the aircraft.

Ready for Deployment

By April 2004, after an unprecedented stand-up

and training period and with full integration into

Naval Special Warfare Squadron One just completed,

the Marine Corps Special Operations Command Detachment was at the highest pitch of readiness. The

Det One Marines were fully trained and thoroughly

exercised in their individual fighting abilities, their

particular disciplines, and now their roles in the

squadron. In a remarkably short time span, the detachment had progressed by leaps and bounds into

a first-rate special operations force, fully capable of

executing the missions assigned to it. And it was a

uniquely Marine force, even if somewhat altered by

full integration into the squadron, not a copy of any

existing Special Operations Command unit.

On 6 April 2004, the first of four U.S. Air Force C5 Galaxy transport planes carrying Det One Marines

and their gear lifted off from Naval Air Station North

Island, San Diego. Like the storied Marine Raiders of

World War II, the Marine Corps Special Operations

Command Detachment was on its way to take the

fight directly to the enemy.

46 DET ONE
47

Naval Special Warfare

Task Group—Arabian Peninsula

The first planeload of Marines from Detachment

One landed in Baghdad on 6 April 2004. It was the

same date they had taken off from San Diego, but in

reality, they touched down on a different day and in

a vastly different place. The next two loads arrived

without difficulty, but the last, carrying the bulk of

the reconnaissance element, was vexed by delays

and mechanical problems and did not arrive for two

weeks.

In late March 2004, Iraq had exploded. On 31

March, four American contractors from the private security firm Blackwater USA were waylaid, murdered,

and burned by a mob, their bodies hung from a

bridge in the city of al-Fallujah, approximately 45

miles west of Baghdad. These acts drew the I Marine

Expeditionary Force, newly in charge of the area of

operations encompassing the western third of the

country, into full-scale combat operations as the insurgents in the predominantly Sunni region were emboldened to rise up in growing numbers. Other

towns and cities in the surrounding al-Anbar Province

followed suit. The fledgling Iraqi security forces

melted away, and American casualties mounted. In

the cities and rural areas, rocket and mortar attacks

on Coalition bases increased in volume and accuracy,

and across the country, improvised explosive devices

became the insurgents’ weapon of choice.

From the south came Shi’a militias, on the march

against the Americans and other Coalition forces. This

was an unwelcome development at a distinctly inopportune moment. These forces had not taken the

field in large numbers, if at all. The Shi’a uprising, instigated by a radical cleric with ties to Iran, Muqtada

al-Sadr, severely restricted the lines of communications south to Kuwait and at more than one point

threatened to sever them entirely. It complicated an

already-dark political scene and portended nothing

good for the formation of an Iraqi governing coalition.

Matters in Iraq were at an exceedingly delicate

stage, with a transition of sovereignty to an interim

Iraqi government in the offing even while there was

all-out fighting in several cities. The initiative was in

the hands of the insurgents. The U.S.-led Coalition

needed to mount effective offensive operations

across the country to regain the initiative.

This was the environment that greeted the Marines

and SEALs of Naval Special Warfare Squadron One

when they landed in Baghdad and began to organize

for operations. Det One Marines on that first load,

most of them from the logistics and intelligence sections, spent the first night manning the base defenses.

The first week included daily indirect and small-arms

fire.

Special operations forces in Iraq were grouped

under Combined Joint Special Operations Task Force

Arabian Peninsula. Commanded by a U.S. Army

colonel, the task force had under its command not

only Naval Special Warfare Squadron One, but also

other units, such as the 2d Battalion, 5th Special

Forces Group (Airborne), and later the 1st Battalion.

The Det One Marines would form close working relationships with both units. There was also a unit

from the Polish special operations force, called the

GROM after its Polish name, Grupa Reagowania Operacyjno Mobilnego (Operational Mobile Response

Group). Squadron One, now properly called Naval

Special Warfare Task Group Arabian Peninsula, was

the special operations task force’s primary direct action arm.*

In accordance with the hub-and-spoke plan that

was conceived during the predeployment site survey

and tested at the certification exercise, Commander

William W. Wilson dispatched task units to outlying

cities, the “spokes” that radiated from the Baghdad

hub. One task unit went to northern Iraq, augmented

by one counterintelligence Marine and four radio reconnaissance Marines. Another task unit went west

to al-Anbar Province; it was augmented by the Det

One intelligence chief and counterintelligence chief.

Wilson sent another counterintelligence Marine to the

“Green Zone” in Baghdad to be the task group liaison to other government agencies.

Initially, the use of counterintelligence Marines in

special operations was, despite their capabilities,

Chapter 4

Deployment

* From this point forward, the term “task force” will refer to Combined Joint Special Warfare Task Force—Arabian Peninsula, and

the term “task group” will refer to Naval Special Warfare Task

Group—Arabian Peninsula.
problematic. The crux was legal, not operational.

Human intelligence specialists in Special Operations

Command (SOCom) were certified in advanced special operations techniques (ASOT), a skill set very

similar to the Marine Corps’ human source intelligence (HUMINT) exploitation, but counterintelligence Marines did not have the certifications that

their SEAL or Army counterparts did, which were tied

to specific provisions of U.S. laws governing intelligence collection. According to Commander Wilson,

“A lot of folks [in the special operations forces] were

very nervous about [Marine HUMINT] guys getting

into activities that could be perceived as the environment of ASOT.”

Wilson recognized the Marines’ particular skills

and capabilities, however, and he needed a dedicated

tactical human source intelligence capability. With the

task force commander’s full support, Wilson decided

to take a risk and use his counterintelligence Marines

in the roles for which they were trained. The key was

Wilson’s personal trust in Major M. Gerald Carter,

only one of many times that officer’s personal stature

would prove important. This arrangement allowed

Wilson to make the best use of his assets; the counterintelligence Marines could do tactical human

source intelligence while the SEALs, trained in advanced special operations techniques, could work

with the task force intelligence section, where Wilson had specific tasks for them. There was plenty of

work to go around, as Wilson noted.1

Task Unit Raider

Task group staff integration, begun at the certification exercise, continued in Iraq and settled into a

workable structure. Major Craig S. Kozeniesky remained as commander of Task Unit Raider but

dropped the collateral duties of task group operations

officer, even though for a brief period he also filled

in as the task group deputy commander. Major Carter

was assigned as the task group intelligence officer,

and Captain Christopher B. Batts was designated as

the task group “special activities officer,” dealing with

all aspects of human source intelligence, including

interrogations. Major M. Wade Priddy ascended to the

post of task group future operations officer, and Captain Stephen V. Fiscus functioned as Task Unit

Raider’s operations officer. Major Thomas P. Dolan

handled the air officer duties for the task unit but devoted part of his time to working air operations issues

of the task group.

Out of the original 30-man intelligence element,

only two analysts, four radio reconnaissance Marines,

and one counterintelligence Marine remained in direct support of Task Unit Raider. All others were in

general support of the task group or in direct support of other task units. The fires element remained

intact under Task Unit Raider, as did the logistics section and the communications section. 

Colonel Robert J. Coates, at the insistence of the

commanding generals of Marine Forces Pacific Command and Marine Forces Central Command, went to

Fallujah on 23 April and was attached to I Marine Expeditionary Force staff as Marine Forces Central liaison officer.

After the reorganization of the task group and dispatch of the outlying task units, the first order of business for Task Unit Raider was to get settled in its own

compound, sort out the logistics situation, then leap

into the targeting cycle and begin hitting targets. The

Marines made a home near Baghdad International

Airport, naming it Camp Myler after Sergeant Christian W. Myler, the reconnaissance Marine who had

died in September 2003. They claimed their corner

of the complex, where the Seabees constructed additional buildings, and set up their working spaces,

then identified ranges and buildings they could use

for assault rehearsals. The duties of camp commandant were assigned to the Det One parachute rigger,

48 DET ONE

Photo courtesy of LtCol Craig S. Kozeniesky

Det One’s compound in Baghdad was named Camp

Myler in honor of Sgt Christian W. Myler of the reconnaissance element who was killed in a motorcycle

accident in September 2003. The sign proudly displays the insignia of Det One’s forbearers, the Marine

Raiders of World War II.
Deployment 49

Gunnery Sergeant Jason T. Kennedy.

Confusion reigned for a time. Det One Marines

were coming and going on a variety of urgent matters and being detached to serve with the outlying

task units. The logistics situation was shaky; the normal uncertainties attending a newly arrived unit were

compounded by the constrained supply situation.

One of the staff’s previous assumptions was that once

in Iraq, the detachment would be able to plug into

the Marine expeditionary force for support since

Baghdad and Camp Fallujah were not far apart, about

the same distance as Camp Pendleton to San Diego.

But attacks on the main supply routes took that

course of action out of consideration. Until supply

lines opened, the Marines had to get their support

from the special operations task force structure and

from the many Army units that dotted the Baghdad

area.*

The lack of proper fighting vehicles had to be addressed quickly. The hunekers as they came off the

planes were in no shape to roll out of the gates on

missions. They lacked armor and many other modifications, such as infrared headlights, communications

equipment and navigation aids, and additional machine-gun mounts. The first daily situation report

from Iraq identified vehicle issues as the number-one

impediment to Task Unit Raider’s ability to mount out

and hit targets. The same comments recurred repeatedly during the first few weeks in country.2 By the

time-honored method of scrounging (or “exploiting

opportunities,” as one report termed it) in and around

Baghdad over the first two weeks, the logistics section was able to procure enough armor kits to get six

hunekers battle-ready.3 The improvement in readiness came just in time, as the first targets were being

designated for execution.

Ammunition was also an immediate problem, and

not just because of the general supply situation. In a

maddening variation of the training phase ammunition problem, some shipping containers with specific

munitions Task Unit Raider needed to operate and

conduct sustainment training were lost in the ammunition dump in Kuwait. It was such a conundrum that

the imperturbable Captain Matthew H. Kress was

compelled to sort it out himself, noting that “it was a

matter of me going down to Kuwait and physically

driving the desert to find these containers.”4 A substantial load of ammunition, but by no means the

whole lot, arrived on 22 April and gave the Marines

enough of the supplies they needed to begin and sustain their operations.5

Making the most of the material at hand and what

could be obtained locally, Marines from all elements

soon established daily routines. The logistics section

took over base defense in addition to its regular duties, augmented by others as needed. The communications section had the radio nets and data networks

up and running within hours, with the all-important

Trojan Spirit Lite passing a steady stream of electrons

back and forth to a station in the United States. Sergeant Victor M. Guerra profited from his experience

in Nevada; he had protected his gear during travel

and consequently had his networks in operation right

away. Staff Sergeant Chad E. Berry set up and maintained the power and environmental controls. By billet he was the detachment’s small-craft mechanic, but

he stepped into the rarely publicized but always critical role of keeping the utilities operational.

The reconnaissance element turned to stropping

its collective razor: small arms sustainment training,

“flow drills” for close-quarter battle (now on structures of indigenous construction materials methods,

something they had not experienced before), and a

host of other actions. All hands turned to incorporating the rebuilt hunekers into their operating procedures, working out the differences between the

capabilities of the bigger, heavier armored vehicles

versus the fast attack vehicles. Almost every aspect

of vehicle operations needed to be reexamined and

* The agreement with SOCom had specified that the Marine Corps

would fund the detachment, hence the plan to plug into I MEF for

support. MarForPac and MarCent helped clear the way for funding

to flow to the detachment through SOCom and Army channels.

Col Robert J. Coates (right) and an unidentified Det

One Marine in Iraq. This was after the detachment

had been allocated separate missions, based on skills

and aptitudes as needed by the Naval Special Warfare Task Group.

Photo courtesy of Col Robert J. Coates
digested. How would a fully loaded humvee perform

at high speed? What were the driver/gunner/commander dynamics in the comparatively spacious

humvee instead of the cramped fast attack vehicle?

What was the quickest way to get a humvee ready for

towing if the need arose? Answering these and other

questions occupied much of the Marines’ days and

nights in those first few weeks.

Members of the Task Unit Raider staff and the intelligence element immersed themselves in establishing relationships with adjacent commands and

finding their place in the targeting process—getting a

feel for the “atmospherics,” identifying the main

malefactors, and devising ways to track, strike, and

exploit them. Commander Wilson established two

priority information requirements: first, who was attacking the Iraqi security forces? And second, who

was attacking Americans? The answers to these questions provided the basis for the targeting process.

Wilson then established two criteria for launching

a direct action raid: first, was there a good legal case

on the target, something that would keep him in custody? And second, what more would this kill or capture lead to?* The answers to these questions

provided the operational basis for a raid.6 The overall plan was to hit one target after another, using the

intelligence gained from one hit to lead to the next.

The key was to start with the smaller, more vulnerable targets. “You don’t go after the big guy at first—

you can’t get to him,” Wilson explained. “You work

your way up through the guy who’s welding the

brackets for the rockets that they’re firing. You get

the guy that’s supplying the mortar rounds; you get

another guy who’s a mortar trainer. . . . You work

your way up and you take out an entire structure.”7

Striking high-value targets was Task Unit Raider’s

reason for existence, and the targeting cycle was

what the intelligence element was specifically designed to do. Through some early missteps not of

their making, Majors Kozeniesky and Carter found

that the targeting cycle would be a “bottom-up”

search rather than a “top-down” push, meaning that

the Marines would have to take the lead in developing most of their own targets.8 On 23 April, Kozeniesky reported that the detachment was “fully

deployed and preparing for operations.”9

Early Operations

In Iraq in April 2004, there were several agencies

and entities collecting intelligence. This was both a

good thing and a bad thing from Task Unit Raider’s

point of view. On the positive side, it promised a

wealth of exploitable intelligence; on the negative,

there was no single point of contact in higher headquarters who was fusing the data and passing it

down the chain in an actionable form. Nor was there

necessarily any uniform quality control, as the

Marines saw it, in the intelligence products available

to them.

By later April, missions began to percolate. On the

21st, the task group received a warning order from

Combined Joint Task Force 7, the highest military

headquarters in Iraq, and the task unit staff began

planning the first direct action mission, dubbed Objective Rhino.* The order alerted the task group to

large numbers of hard-core enemy personnel concentrated at a location west of Baghdad and east of

Fallujah. The planners zeroed in on the area and

began a thorough examination of the terrain and the

enemy. Within a few days as more information became available, the nature of the target evolved

slightly and the name was changed to Objective Rat.10

Further study and close coordination with 2d Battalion, 5th Special Forces Group, verified that a large

number of known insurgents were concentrated in

the neighborhood. Intelligence sources also identified the building housing them—Abu Ghraib prison.

The information from higher headquarters was technically correct—large numbers of known insurgents

in a given location—but essentially worthless. The

weekly situation report tartly noted that “the planned

[mission] has obviously been shelved and a thorough

review of targeting procedures is recommended.”11

Were it not deadly serious business, the Rhino/Rat

episode might have been amusing. It highlighted

problems with the quality of the targeting intelligence

being passed down the chain-of-command. Its only

value lay, perhaps, in being a realistic paper drill, a

command post exercise under operational conditions.

Major Kozeniesky, although irritated, chose to close

the episode on a positive note, writing that “Task Unit

Raider, while disappointed with the poor coordination and targeting from higher headquarters on Objective Rat, established good lateral contacts with

friendly conventional forces and special operations

forces.”12

As it turned out, the first mission for Task Unit

50 DET ONE

* All Task Unit Raider missions had codenames beginning with the

letter “R.” Objectives had two components: an individual or cell,

and a location. Thus, the same individual or cell could have more

than one operation planned or mounted against them, as locations

changed.

* A reference to making a case against an individual in the legal

sense is not just an analogy. As the transition to Iraqi sovereignty

progressed, the strength of the evidence against a target could

mean the difference between his being released and his being detained for a long period of time. 
Deployment 51

Raider was not a full-scale direct action, but rather a

“close target reconnaissance.” It proved to be a good

test for two Marines, and it handed the intelligence element what it wanted most, a solid piece of actionable intelligence. It began with one of the

detachment intelligence officer’s frequent liaison visits to higher headquarters. From his ever-widening

circle of contacts, Major Carter discovered that agents

in the Federal Bureau of Investigation cell in Baghdad

had a source that had named a female Iraqi, employed by a U.S. contractor, as an insurgent sympathizer. It appeared that the woman, code named

“Rachel,” had leaked information concerning several

linguists employed by the contractor, resulting in their

murders. She needed to be found, apprehended, and

questioned. The murders limited the ability of Coalition units to work with the Iraqi population on a

number of important projects. The target fit all of

Commander Wilson’s criteria, and Carter gladly took

ownership of the mission.

The task group staff analyzed the mission and

came up with a plan. They knew very little about the

woman and had to get a positive identification. A

small team would be sent to find her, starting with

her last known location. Once they got sight of her,

they could develop a plan to track her and eventually

take action. The mission carried some risk, but it

promised both a good payoff and a foot in the door

of the targeting cycle. A small victory would also satisfy Commander Wilson’s other goal: an early success.

Gunnery Sergeant John A. Dailey, leader of reconnaissance team 4, took charge of the mission. He

headed what could be called a small combined joint

task force, which consisted of Dailey, Gunnery Sergeant William M. Johnston from the counterintelligence section, a SEAL assigned to HUMINT duties,

and an operator from the Polish special forces unit,

the GROM, reportedly the best sniper in that organization. The GROM member was also a woman, an

important factor since they were dealing with a female target. The task group staff coordinated with

other government agencies, the Army commands involved, and the contracting company’s officials and

sent the four in civilian clothes and civilian vehicles

to where “Rachel” was supposed to be working.

When the four arrived at the target’s reported place

of employment, they were told that she no longer

worked there, but that she was employed at a base

outside the city. Gunnery Sergeant Dailey wanted to

go on to the second site and find her, so he conferred

with Commander Wilson and Major Kozeniesky, who

approved his request to continue the search and the

capture if conditions permitted. At the second location, members of the combined joint task force received the same answer. Their contacts pointed them

to a third site, to which they proceeded immediately.

The four took a low-key approach to the mission,

and this helped them in their quest. Civilian clothes

concealed their pistols and soft body armor, and they

kept their M4 carbines and other combat gear stowed

in their vehicles. The smooth-talking HUMINT specialists were adept at asking questions without raising

eyebrows. According to Dailey, “This was one of

those times that being able to wear civvies and having your hair at the outer limit of regulation really

helped.”*

Arriving at the third site, they located the target’s

former office, but they were told that she had quit.

Rather than let the trail go cold, they discussed the

matter with the U.S. Army officer for whom she had

worked, without going into too much detail about

why they wanted her. Together, they devised a simple trap: “Rachel’s” former employer located her

phone number and called her to come get her last

paycheck. Much to the group’s surprise, she agreed.

At this point, with nothing to do but wait—the

woman had promised to be there in 20 minutes, but

Dailey knew that in Iraq, 20 minutes could mean “20

minutes, or four hours, or whatever”—he went to see

the base commander to let him know what was going

on. After Dailey explained to a skeptical colonel what

was afoot—Dailey, in civilian clothes and sporting a

slightly non-Marine haircut, was sure that the Army

officer did not believe that he was who he said he

was—the base commander gave his full support.

To this point, the mission was coming together.

The small combined joint task force would be able to

identify “Rachel” and probably take her into custody.

But if she was indeed working for the insurgents,

there was always the possibility that she would resist

capture. If she had a male escort, as she surely

would, would he (or they) also put up a fight? The

last thing anyone wanted was a gunfight on a

crowded base frequented by civilians. That would

mean an early disaster, not an early success. Speed,

surprise, and deft execution would be vital to a successful conclusion, and the group worked out a plan.

Dailey posted Gunnery Sergeant Johnston and the

GROM member behind the door of the office where

“Rachel” would go to pick up her pay. He positioned

the SEAL and himself outside to handle whomever

she might have with her.

* Personnel in civilian clothes carrying weapons were not unusual

sights on coalition bases in Iraq. What would seem outlandish in

any other setting was commonplace.
Their patience was rewarded. As “Rachel” and a

male escort came into the facility, Dailey gave the signal to stand by. When she walked into the room,

Johnston shut the door, and the female GROM member quickly got her under control. Dailey and the

SEAL overpowered and flex-cuffed the male. The encounter was over in an instant and not a shot was

fired. The task group bundled the pair into civilian

vehicles and sped back to Camp Myler so that Captain Batts’s interrogators could go to work.

Questioning soon revealed that “Rachel” was not

actively involved in passing information to the insurgents, but that she was probably doing so unwittingly

through ill-considered chatter. The male likewise was

not an insurgent, but he provided useful information

and produced the key that turned this operation into

a minor coup. He knew a few details about the linguist murderers, and he knew some other things

about unsavory people involved with bombs and

rockets. The interrogators asked whether he would

be willing to accompany a raid force and identify the

individuals. The man agreed, and the information he

supplied became the basis for Objective Racket, Task

Unit Raider’s first true direct action mission.

Objective Racket

“Rachel” and her male escort were taken on 2

May. Planning began immediately afterward in order

to exploit the information they had given the interrogators. “Rachel’s” escort provided details about a

man who lived in a certain neighborhood of Baghdad 

with his wife and two children. This man worked as

a repairman at a shop not far away. He was involved

in the linguist murders as well as in the construction

of rocket launchers used to attack Coalition bases. He

hated Americans. His relatives reportedly were involved in the car bomb trade, and one of them was

suspected of being the suicide bomber in a recent attack on an Iraqi police station. This case was an opportunity tailor-made for the Marines of the

intelligence element. They pulled in data from every

corner of the command structure in Iraq and fused it

into a comprehensive whole, corroborating and amplifying bits of information as they proceeded. They

identified this man’s house and his workplace on imagery taken from various platforms, and they mapped

his daily routine.

The way the mission was planned, coordinated,

and executed provides a look at Task Unit Raider’s

template for a direct action mission. In traditional Marine Corps fashion, the actions during planning were

not strictly sequential but rather more concurrent, and

collaborative rather than hierarchical. Later, other

more complex missions featured different planning

and coordination aspects, but this first one was emblematic of the process.

All hands contributed to the planning. The staff

analyzed the mission and came up with courses of

action, which were briefed to Commander Wilson.

The chosen course of action was then planned out in

detail. The operations section posted a tentative timeline for execution; arranged for close air support; coordinated with conventional forces in whose territory

they would be working; and kept track of the countless small tasks that need to be accomplished. The

intelligence element continued to draw information

and to monitor its sources while it assisted the planners.

The assault force wanted to know dozens of

pieces of information. What did the target look like,

and what did his house look like? What was the composition of the structures, doors, and windows? Did

the target have guard dogs or some other form of

early warning? Would his neighbors be watching on

his behalf, and would they join in a defense? What

were his probable reactions to the assault? Would he

fight, or would he try to run? How much starlight and

moonlight would there be? The list was long, but the

intensive training phase had provided detailed templates for mission planning, and there was little that

had not been anticipated.

Concurrent with the planning were vehicle preparation, rehearsals, and refinements. What was the vehicle order? Who was assigned to which vehicle and

what were their duties? In the event of a vehicle

breaking down, what was the “bump plan” to shift

the load to the other vehicles, and what was the recovery plan? What were the call-signs and frequencies for the supporting arms? Who was providing the

quick reaction force? Where were the helicopter landing zones in case of a casualty evacuation? Every man

was assigned specific responsibilities. Every man had

a backup and was himself a backup to someone else.

Before mounting out, all hands test-fired their

weapons and checked their night-vision goggles,

then checked and rechecked the vehicles.

At a predetermined time, every man involved in

the mission gathered for a confirmation brief. The

mission was restated and an intelligence update was

provided. (The one major item for Objective Racket

that the intelligence section did not have was a photograph of the target, which would end up causing

some confusion.) The intelligence Marines had once

again done their part by fusing imagery and topographic analysis to produce three-dimensional “drivethrough” models of the route and the objective area,

52 DET ONE
Deployment 53

overlaid by detailed mobility diagrams to show which

routes were trafficable and which were not. Warrant

Officer Kevin E. Vicinus briefed the weather conditions and their possible effects on the operation. The

key leaders in the mission stood up and briefed their

elements’ roles in the mission, from pre-assault rehearsals to post-assault actions. They answered all

last-minute questions on target minutiae, ironed out

any wrinkles in the plan, and rebriefed these details

so that every Marine understood them. The leaders

described the route to the target, in this case one of

Baghdad’s main thoroughfares, the infamous bombstudded “Route Irish.” Briefers indicated the various

checkpoints along the route and the points in the

neighborhood where the force would split up, drop

off the assaulters, and finally rendezvous for extraction.

The two key elements on this and every other mission were surprise and a good breach, as the assault

force needed to get into the target house before the

occupants could react. “Once we’re inside the target

and we’ve got a good flow of people in it,” explained

Master Sergeant Terry M. Wyrick, “we’re going to win

that fight. . . . That’s just the nature of close-quarters

battle.”13 Events on this target and every other would

prove him right.

The task unit had the deck stacked in its favor: the

Marines had the initiative and they had chosen the

time, the place, and the form of the attack. Even so,

tensions ran high since on this, their first target, they

would face not an instructor with simunitions or

obliging role-players, but a thinking, breathing,

armed adversary with a will of his own. Nine months

of hard work were going to be put to the ultimate

test.

The assault on Objective Racket launched at 0100

on 4 May, when the convoy of armored hunekers

containing Task Unit Raider rolled out of the gate at

Camp Myler. The vehicles were blacked out, and the

Marines were driving fast on night-vision goggles. Devices mounted in the vehicles combined global positioning system technology and imagery and provided

real-time aids in navigating the Baghdad roadways.

Prior coordination with adjacent units allowed them

to bypass roadblocks and other obstacles. Their speed

provided a measure of protection against ambush; sophisticated electronic counter-measures protected

them from radio-detonated roadside bombs. According to Master Sergeant Keith E. Oakes, the unit was “a

traveling fight waiting to happen.”14 High above and

in radio contact with the Marines were an AC-130 and

two HH-60s, providing over-watch on the route ahead

and keeping tabs on the status of the target area.

After a quick stop at Baghdad International Airport, the convoy continued on and eight minutes

later reached the set point. There they split, with one

section going to the target’s residence and the other

to his shop, five blocks away. Reconnaissance Teams

2 and 3, under Master Sergeants Joseph L. Morrison

and Charles H. Padilla, advanced to the residence.

Teams 1 and 6, under Master Sergeant Wyrick and

Gunnery Sergeant Sidney J. Voss, moved to the workshop. Teams 4 and 5 provided drivers and the gunners for the vehicles, augmented by Marines from the

support sections. Two Marines from the fires element,

Captain Daniel B. Sheehan III and Sergeant David D.

Marnell, got on top of a nearby structure to get a better view of the whole area and through the aircraft

kept an eye on any movement that might signal the

force had been compromised. Master Sergeant Hays

B. Harrington and his radio reconnaissance Marines

kept their ears on the target and scanned the spectrum for enemy traffic.

The Marines had brought the source with them on

the operation, the man rolled up by Gunnery Sergeant Dailey’s team barely two days previous. When

the source positively identified the residence of the

target, the breaching team went to work. Marines in

Team 3 placed ladders against the wall surrounding

the house and were scrambling over it when the

Navy explosive ordnance disposal technician attached to them saw a figure in a first-floor window.

The technician sprinted forward, seized the man

through the metal grate over the opening, and

pinned him to the bars to prevent him from sounding an alarm or grabbing a weapon. Working quickly,

Padilla’s assistant team leader, Staff Sergeant Chad D.

Baker, placed his explosive charge on the door, and

seconds later detonated it, blowing the door in. Five

blocks away, a Marine from Team 1 used a shotgun

to break the lock on the doors of the shop. The time

was 0129.15

Once inside the house, the assaulters flooded the

interior as they had practiced many times before.

Master Sergeant Padilla described the sensations of

time and motion: “When you get off the vehicle, you

know exactly where you’re going. . . . Everything is

moving, sometimes you think you’re making a lot of

noise, but you’re not. . . . You start off nice and easy,

like you’ve been rehearsing. At the breach point, you

slow down a little bit—climbing over the wall to get

to the breach point, you slow down—then once the

breach goes, the fastest man in the house wins.”16

Inside the residence, the stunned occupants surrendered without a fight. The Marines took one man

outside, where the source for the operation identi-
fied him as the target. However, a woman told them

that the target was actually next door. The helicopter

circling overhead alerted the Marines that a man had

jumped from the residence’s rooftop to the adjoining

structure.17 Morrison’s Team 2 quickly breached and

entered that house, where they seized another man,

who was waiting for them with his hands in the air.

He was taken out and positively identified as the target of Objective Racket; the first man was then identified as his brother-in-law and was subsequently

released.18

Marines from the intelligence element, assisted by

the assaulters, searched the house on sensitive site

exploitation and took away several items, having

been previously briefed on what to seek. The

searches at the residence and the shop were finished

by 0157. By 0206, the raid force was accounted for

and headed back to base, and by 0321, Task Unit

Raider was inside the wire at Camp Myler, where the

Marines turned over the detainee and the intelligence

materials.19

“Pleased to finally have a successfully completed

mission under our belt,” read commander’s comments in the 2 May daily situation report on Objective

Rachel. “Although not a dramatic operation itself, it

marks a milestone for the USMC/SOCom relationship

and will hopefully lead to destruction of a cell that

has targeted Iraqis assisting the coalition.”20 After the

follow-on hit, the daily report from 6 May continued

the thread: “Successful execution of Racket was the

fruition of many months of hard work by every member of the Detachment. More pointedly, it was the

culmination of the intelligence cycle started with Objective Rachel, which produced the actionable intelligence for this follow-on operation.”21

Rachel and Racket were indeed successes for Detachment One, with the second raid launched less

than 48 hours after the first operation ended. The operations proved that the unit could take a scrap of information and use it to develop a high-value target,

then fix it, strike it, and exploit it. Major Kozeniesky

and his staff worked through formal and informal

command relationships, operating as easily with

other government agencies as they did with conventional units. The quiet capture of “Rachel” affirmed

to their special operations peers that individual

Marines had the experience and tactical savvy to operate independently and think on their feet. The subsequent direct action hit validated Task Unit Raider’s

training and modus operandi. If these two targets

lacked the difficulty that would characterize later missions, they made up for it in scope for failure, which,

had it occurred, would have set the whole task group

back and jeopardized its ability to operate. The

Marines of Detachment One, and Commander Wilson as well, had every reason to be pleased with the

outcome.

Major Kozeniesky’s comments in the 6 May report

concluded the Rachel/Racket discussion: “While

[Rachel] and last night’s evolutions [Racket] were

noteworthy events in the history of the detachment

and the Marine Corps, we look forward to the time

when it is all considered ‘ops normal’ for the

Raiders.”22

54 DET ONE
55

The Hunt for “X”

Within days of the Rachel/Racket operations, Task

Unit Raider launched a series of actions against a significantly more serious target. “X” was an insurgent

facilitator who had come to the coalition’s attention

after one of his associates was captured in March. He

was a figure of importance in the insurgency, on a

much higher level than Rachel or Racket. Originally

targeted as Objective Raccoon, “X” was mentioned

under that code name as early as 1 May, while the

Rachel operation was still in the planning stages, and

he and his organization were a constant topic in operational documents for the next several weeks.

“X” was a canny operator. From his ability to

evade surveillance and elude capture, the intelligence

section concluded that he had had some military or

intelligence training. A previous task group had targeted him several times and each time had come up

frustratingly short. Because of the pressure being put

on him, “X” had assumed a low profile but had not

ceased his anti-Coalition operations. The one consistent problem in the raids launched against “X” was

the inability to positively identify him. This fact, plus

the difficulty in establishing a trigger for his presence

at a given location, meant that actually capturing or

killing him in a single operation was an elusive goal.

Commander William W. Wilson, Det One’s task group

commander, and Major Craig S. Kozeniesky, commander of Task Unit Raider, reasoned that striking at

“X” and his associates in a series of raids would produce a disruption in his operational capabilities, force

him on the defensive, and as the targeting cycle

quickened, eventually result in his capture. 

Operations against “X” began with close coordination between the task group and the various cells

in other government agencies, where Major M. Gerald Carter and Captain Christopher B. Batts were frequent visitors, and where Gunnery Sergeant William

M. Johnston was embedded.* Those agencies had

sources close to the “X” organization, whose information was good but not complete enough to tell the

whole tale. Operatives were able to track the movements of a van that drove between several sites of

interest to those targeting “X” and his people. Det

One intelligence analysts matched the times and locations of the van’s movement with the information

being fed to them by the source and were able to

zero in on the residence of a subsidiary figure and

associate of “X,” located on the northeast edge of

Baghdad. The operation was named Red Bull.

During the first two weeks of May while the

Marines of Task Unit Raider prepared for the hit, the

other agencies were working through their sources

to lure “X” to the associate’s residence on the night of

11–12 May. Late on the evening of 11 May, as the raid

force waited by the vehicles staged for the convoy,

the task group and task unit staffs were working to

establish the trigger for the raid with the case officer

assigned to them, who was in contact with a source

placed to monitor the associate’s house. Moments

after the source gave the signal that the person suspected to be “X” was onsite, the convoy launched.

The basic template for Red Bull resembled the

template for Racket, except there was one target site

instead of two. In the five days since that first operation, Task Unit Raider had absorbed lessons learned

and refined its procedures. The size and strength of

the raid force was much the same; one particular difference was that Chief Hospital Corpsman Eric D.

Sine and Major M. Wade Priddy were to be aloft in a

helicopter to provide medical support in case of a casualty evacuation as well as general airborne overwatch. The U.S. Army’s 1st Squadron, 5th Cavalry,

provided the quick reaction force.

The movement to the target area was, in the words

of the after action report, “uneventful,” except for a

quick maneuver to block traffic by the second vehicle, carrying Master Sergeant Charles H. Padilla’s 

Team 3. Actions on the objective also proceeded

smoothly. The Marines detained three men and took

away some significant items after sensitive site exploitation: parts and batteries—all improvised bomb

components. One of the men was subsequently identified as the owner of the house, the associate also

targeted in the raid. 

Chapter 5

“Ops Normal”

* Johnston, who accompanied GySgt Dailey on the Rachel operation, was the face of the task group to those agencies. An Illinois

native who joined the Marines in 1990, he was the perfect choice

to be the liaison as he had served with another government

agency’s office of military affairs during a tour at Headquarters Marine Corps. Johnston intvw, (Marine Corps Historical Center, Quantico, VA.
The one thing missing from the target site was “X”

himself, as he again demonstrated his ability to

evade capture. During the after action review, the

Marines determined that a short gap occurred in

communications with the source, coinciding with a

brief time in which the source also lost visual contact

with the target site. In that small window of opportunity, the wily “X”—whether or not he knew what

was afoot—slipped out and disappeared into the

Baghdad night.

The raid was a success on other levels. The associate of “X” turned out to be a known bomb maker

who had been targeted by coalition forces several

times before, and who was reportedly schooled in

remote-control bomb-making by “X.” The haul of intelligence materials, notably information gathered

through onsite tactical interrogations by Staff Sergeant Scott J. Beretz of the counterintelligence section, gave the intelligence Marines a rich pile of raw

material to feed back into the targeting cycle. But the

prize was still “X,” who remained at large. Over the

next four weeks, Major Carter drove his Marines to

use every trick and technique at their disposal to target any place or person known or suspected to be

associated with him.

After the execution of Red Bull, “X” struck back.

Another source close to the investigation was murdered, as was his young daughter. These acts lent a

more personal, urgent motive to the hunt, and they

were proof that the task group was getting closer to

its most-wanted man. Major Carter’s Marines worked

every angle they could devise in order to track the

man and pin him down. By the third week of May,

they decided to hit the next target, code named Objective Raccoon, which the Marines’ growing files indicated was “X’s” residence. If he was not there, they

expected that several of his family and associates

would be there and that the action would further

penetrate his comfort zone and disrupt his activities.

Objective Raccoon consisted of three target sites; the

Marines planned to hit the first building, break contact while a security element searched the place,

then hit the next two simultaneously. The target sites

were located south of Baghdad in a semi-rural area.

The three buildings were a few hundred meters

apart.

Just before midnight on 21 May, Task Unit Raider

descended on Objective Raccoon. The assault force

conducted a hard hit on the first site after being informed by the covering aircraft during the approach

that there were figures moving outside the buildings.

The Marines found several people onsite and detained one male. While the security element was

combing the residence and grounds, the assault force

remounted its vehicles and sped off to hit the next

two sites, where the entry and containment teams

took another six men into custody, including one

who provided the only drama of the night by trying

to escape on foot. The aircraft circling overhead vectored Master Sergeant Padilla’s Marines on a 20-

minute foot chase, which ended with the man’s

capture. Items of interest seized in the raid included

suspected bomb-making material as well as a van

observed at several locations monitored during the

surveillance on “X.” Without further incident, the entire raid force re-embarked and sped back to Camp

Myler where, after dropping the detainees at the task

force headquarters, they arrived at 0114.

Again, “X” had eluded the Marines. However, the

exploitation of the site and the interrogations conducted by Staff Sergeant Beretz, Captain Batts, and

the task group’s interpreters uncovered information

that fully justified the decision to hit the insurgent

chief’s suspected locations. A few of the men taken

off the Raccoon sites were related to “X.” All would

eventually reveal much useful information, but even

if they had remained silent, their faces gave away the

prize: a strong family resemblance. Major Carter and

his Marines now had a good idea of what their man

looked like. As Major Kozeniesky later reported, “At

a minimum, we believe that we have significantly

disrupted his operations by pursuing him at several

of his favorite spots.”1

Major Kozeniesky’s assessment proved true. One

of their government agency sources fled with his

family to Jordan, obviously trying to avoid the fate

suffered by the first source, murdered following the

Red Bull operation. Even with the loss of two

sources (and a temporary interruption of direct action missions), by early June, the task group and the

other agencies had collected enough solid intelligence to target “X” again, this time at another semirural location south of Camp Myler.

On 8 June, Task Unit Raider attacked Objective

Razor, looking again for “X.” During the approach, a

vehicle bogged down on a road by a canal, only 400

meters from the set point, delaying the assault by 15

tense minutes. Given those conditions, Major Kozeniesky made the decision to conduct a “soft” hit, by

foot instead of by vehicle. The Marines isolated and

breached the first of three structures, and while a

team searched that location, the rest of the force assaulted the other two buildings. Fourteen men were

present at the site, but 12 were quickly released. One

of the remaining two matched the description of “X.”

Both were taken back to Camp Myler by the raid

56 DET ONE
“Ops Normal” 57

force, which was back in the wire by 0423.

Over the next several days, the man matching the

description of “X” sparred with his interrogators,

steadfastly maintaining that he was not who they

said he was and adamant that the Americans had

wrongly detained him. Despite his well-crafted denials, Major Carter and Captain Batts were sure they

had their man, and they grilled him relentlessly.

Their confidence grew when relatives identified him

from a photograph taken after his capture.

Finally, the man admitted that he was “X,” but he

maintained that he had done nothing wrong, was involved in no illegal activities, and was only a peaceful man trying to survive the war. The intelligence

Marines knew otherwise, and his continued evasions

and denials got nowhere with them. Their problem

was that they needed him to admit to his involvement in a string of atrocities in order to make sure

that they had a solid case against him. But they could

only go so far in their interrogations, due to the Abu

Ghraib scandal, in applying anything that even

hinted at coercive methods. There was also a limit on

the length of time they could hold him before they

had to let him go or pass him to another facility.

They suspected that “X” knew all of this and was

banking on his ability to outlast his interrogators.

His smug confidence proved his undoing. Major

Carter floated a bold proposal to Commander Wilson and Major Kozeniesky. If “X” would not talk to

Americans, how long would his defiant act play in

Kurdistan? Carter wanted to take him north and put

him in front of a few Kurdish interrogators, reasoning that the shock and uncertainty of the new circumstances would crack his resistance. Wilson and

Kozeniesky got approval from their superiors and

gave assurances that the matter would be handled

carefully. Carter and a small escort flex-cuffed him,

threw a hood over his head, and bundled him onto

an aircraft waiting to take them to Kirkuk. When “X”

was put in a chair and the hood removed, he saw

only three Kurdish security service officers staring at

him across a table. (What he did not know was that

Major Carter was standing behind him with other

government agency representatives, just to make

sure that things did not get out of hand.) Choosing

discretion over valor, he started talking.

The hunt for the target known as “X” was a case

study in the capabilities that Detachment One

brought to SOCom, particularly the ability of the intelligence element to track and identify a previously

unidentified individual through the fusion of disparate bits of information and incisive analytical skill.

It was, to use a law enforcement analogy, excellent

detective work.* The interrogations by Captain Batts

and Staff Sergeant Beretz illustrated the central role

of counterintelligence Marines in the targeting cycle.

Sharp intelligence work and nimble staff action were

backed up by rapid and ruthless execution on the

target sites. To borrow one of the central points of

Marine Corps doctrine, Det One got deep inside the

target’s decision cycle and acted on him faster than

he could act on them.

On any given day in late May and early June 2004,

Task Unit Raider was operating on several lines at

once. Direct action operations were launched on 11,

18, 20, 21, and 26 May and 8 June, three of them “X”

missions and three others unrelated but no less important. On 18 May, for example, the unit was involved in two operations in the planning stages, the

execution of one operation “currently underway,” a

major planning session with 2d Battalion, 5th Special Forces Group concerning the period leading up

to the 30 June 2004 transfer of sovereignty, personnel augmentation to the task group, and the recovery of other personnel from a safe house in

Baghdad. The hoped-for “ops normal” was becoming a relative term.

Hunting Murderers

The insurgent “X” was the biggest single catch in

May-June 2004, but he was not the only fish in the

sea. In addition to that series of raids, Task Unit

Raider addressed three other targets and planned for

several more. All were aimed at higher-level individuals in the Baghdad terrorist networks that were

trying to prevent the emergence of an interim Iraqi

government. On 18 May, Task Unit Raider executed

its third direct action mission, Objective Rambler.

The mission was to capture or kill an individual responsible for facilitating anti-Coalition forces by coordinating the funding, training, and movement of

foreign terrorists. Rambler was a short-fuse operation and was not even put into the detailed planning

stages until 17 May, although it was part of a general

set that had been under discussion for a few days.2

It was based on intelligence gained from 2d Battalion, 5th Special Forces Group, and its subordinate

units. The ability of the special forces teams to gather

information quietly and effectively was substantial.

Major Kozeniesky called them “probably the best

collectors of information in the country.”3

The target site for Objective Rambler was the individual’s residence, with a possible secondary site at

* Not only good detective work, but good police work as well.

MSgt Joe Morrison, among others, noted that Task Unit Raider’s

direct action missions were much like “SWAT teams serving highrisk warrants.”
his farm just a mile north of his residence. The two

sites were near the sharp bend in the Tigris River that

defines Baghdad’s southeastern side. Photographs of

the man and two of his associates showed a group of

portly, established, middle-aged men. Appearances

belied realities, as intelligence indicated that these

three were well placed in the networks that moved

foreign fighters into and around Iraq.

In the early hours of 18 May, Task Unit Raider,

augmented by special forces operators and their

sources, assaulted the residence of the primary individual targeted in Objective Rambler. While Teams 2

and 6 isolated and contained the area, Team 3 made

a foot approach to the target with the sources in tow.

After scaling the wall—a standard feature of nearly

every Iraqi house—they encountered a guard. Fortunately for all concerned, including the guard himself,

he was “extremely compliant” and was quickly put

under control. The assault force backed up a humvee

and attached a chain to the metal gate blocking the

driveway. The humvee ripped the gate off its hinges

and the assaulters breached the door and flooded the

house. The subsequent sensitive site exploitation produced a pile of damning evidence, some of it stashed

in hidden compartments. The team collected hundreds of pounds of documents, including approximately 50 passports and a “large quantity of currency

from a variety of countries.” The Marines apprehended the high-value target, “briefcase in hand,” as

he attempted to escape out the back door. In addition

to the tangible results, Major Kozeniesky and his staff

assessed one of the most important outcomes of the

operation as the close cooperation with the special

forces unit and its teams.4

Two days after Rambler and again in conjunction

with a special forces operational detachment, Task

Unit Raider launched Objective Revenge, appropriately named as it targeted three Iraqis suspected of

having participated in the brutal murder of American

telecommunications worker Nicholas E. Berg. “This is

one we were pretty amp’ed to do,” said Master Sergeant Terry M. Wyrick, explaining that the brutal murder gave the mission an additional, personal

importance for every Marine. On Objective Rambler,

intelligence had predicted that the occupants of the

target house would opt for flight when the assault

began. On Objective Revenge, Task Unit Raider expected a fight.

The Special Forces soldiers provided “exceptional

atmospherics and positive target building identification, to include a very clear hand-held image of the

building frontage,” according to the operational summary.5 One of the specifics that the planners learned

from the intelligence they gleaned through other government agencies was that these suspects had been

raided by coalition forces before and had used the

roof as an avenue of escape. Another was that the

upper floors were occupied and likely would be defended. One vital detail that the planners also observed on the photographs supplied by the Special

Forces was that a fence instead of a wall surrounded

the house. With all of that taken into account, Major

Kozeniesky directed that the assault force attack with

the maximum possible shock and violence and ensure that the second floor and roof were secured at

the same time as the ground floor was being assaulted.

This raid had had none of the stealthy finesse of

Rambler. It was, in Master Sergeant Wyrick’s words,

“fairly dynamic.” The hunekers carrying the assault

teams went straight at the house. As Wyrick described

it, “Picture three vehicles going over the fence at the

same time, three teams unmanning the vehicles, and

[two teams] moving to the breach point as one team

is throwing flash-bangs and climbing up a ladder to

jump up on a ledge.”6 When Wyrick’s team began

scaling the ladder, they found that part of the structure prevented their vehicle from getting close

enough so that the top of the ladder could touch the

house. Beyond the end of the ladder was four feet of

pitch-black nothing. Without hesitation, Staff Sergeant

Alex N. Conrad hurled himself in full gear from the

top rung of the ladder to the balcony across and

slightly above him while his fellow Marines tossed

flash-bangs in second-floor windows to keep the occupants from shooting at him. Four men, including

the primary target and both secondary targets, were

detained.7 The expected fight did not materialize because the Marines of the assault force achieved maximum shock and surprise and allowed the occupants

no time to react.

On 26 May, Task Unit Raider initiated a direct action raid on Objective Ricochet, the target of which

was a former Iraqi intelligence officer believed to be

a significant figure in a ring of former regime officials

in Baghdad. This operation was the third of the coordinated series of raids undertaken with 2d Battalion,

5th Special Forces Group, during the period leading

up to the 30 June transfer of sovereignty and was also

based on intelligence gathered by the unit. The

Marines knew that the man they were after on Ricochet was a hard target and would probably put up a

fight if given even the slightest chance.

On the raid against Ricochet, Master Sergeant

Wyrick’s Team 1 had the breach with Staff Sergeant

Andrew T. Kingdon as the lead breacher. After scal58 DET ONE
“Ops Normal” 59

ing the wall around the target house, the team approached the entrance and took cover behind a wall

partially masking the doorway. Kingdon crept around

the corner and squared up to the door. He quickly

and quietly placed his charge on the lock side of the

big, heavy wooden door, then withdrew behind the

wall to protect himself from the blast. While doing so,

he thought he heard part of the charge come off the

door, so he went back to check it, and seeing the

charge still in place, drew back again. He announced

over his radio, “breaching, breaching, breaching” and

detonated the charge.

The subsequent blast knocked Kingdon off his

feet, shattered his weapons and gear, and momentarily stunned the Marines right behind him. Something

had gone wrong with the breach, and although he

did not know what it was, he definitely knew he was

injured. While he was down on the ground, stunned

and wounded, Hospital Corpsman First Class Robert

T. Bryan began to work on him, and the rest of the

assault force initiated the backup breaching procedures. Master Sergeant Wyrick looked at the door and

the charge and thought at first that it had only partially detonated, or “low-ordered.” He called for the

secondary breach, which used sledgehammers and a

wrecking tool appropriately called a “hooligan.”

When that approach failed, Wyrick called for a third

method, another explosive charge, which got the

door open. The alternate breaching took only a few

extra seconds, but now the all-important elements of

shock and surprise were gone.8

Leaping over the prostrate Staff Sergeant Kingdon

or dashing around him, the assaulters burst into the

house and began to flood the interior. Just inside the

entry was a room with an open doorway. Master Sergeant Wyrick moved down the hallway, past the

doorway, and button-hooked back to clear the inside

of the room, flashing the bright white light attached

to his M4 as he passed to assess the situation. He saw

nothing, but concealed in the shadows of the room

was the target himself, awake, alert, and armed. Shots

rang out from inside the room, and one of the assaulters shouted, “He’s shooting through the door!”

Wyrick threw in a flash-bang and entered. Right behind him was Staff Sergeant Glen S. Cederholm, who

saw the armed Iraqi in the corner positioned to shoot

Wyrick and killed him with precise fire from his M4

carbine.9

Outside the house, casualty evacuation procedures

were in motion. Further examination revealed what

had happened to Staff Sergeant Kingdon. The explosive leads with the blasting caps and booster charge

had come loose from the main charge and were

coiled up under his M4 carbine, which hung down

on the right side of his chest. When he initiated the

detonation, the blasting caps and booster charge exploded and also set off a sympathetic detonation of a

flash-bang. The main charges still attached to the door

were unprimed and therefore untouched, leading

Wyrick to think that they only partially functioned.

Kingdon’s body armor shielded most of his torso, but

his unprotected right arm took the full blast.

Lying there while the assault progressed, he heard

Wyrick call for the alternate breach, then saw the assault teams flood past him into the house. “Doc”

Bryan placed a tourniquet on his arm and that, according to Kingdon, hurt worse than the blast itself.

He heard the gunshots from the house, then heard

Master Sergeant Keith E. Oakes call for a body bag.

Not knowing that the body bag was for the now-dead

target of the raid, he wondered who it was for.10

There was also another Marine casualty. Hospital

Corpsman First Class Michael D. Tyrell was hit in the

leg with one round from the burst fired by the target

of the raid. Despite the wound, Tyrell continued with

the mission of clearing the house and even went outside to assist in treating and evacuating Kingdon.

When he went back into the house to help with the

search, Major Kozeniesky ordered him to stop and be

treated.11

While the house was being searched, three or four

Marines took Kingdon to the designated casualty

evacuation vehicle to get him to the helicopter. Master Sergeant Hays B. Harrington, the radio reconnaissance leader, jumped into the driver’s seat and sped

off to the primary landing zone. He found it unusable, fouled by wires, and headed for the secondary

zone. The helicopter pilots, seeing another patch of

clear ground that looked better than the secondary

zone, vectored Harrington there instead. The helicopter flew Kingdon to the Army’s 31st Corps Support Hospital in Baghdad, where he was immediately

taken into surgery.*

* Kingdon was sent from Baghdad to Landstuhl, Germany, from

there to Naval Hospital in Bethesda, Maryland, and eventually back

to Camp Pendleton. On 24 March 2005 he recounted the details of

the incident to the author. When the blast happened he thought he

had blown his arm off. Two things immediately worried him. Displaying admirable cool headedness and a keen sense of priorities,

he assessed his own condition: “I had Doc Bryan check to see that

my nuts were okay”—they were—“and then I took my own pulse

just to make sure that I had one.” The wry humor belied what

were very serious, life-threatening injuries: “a nearly severed arm,

a broken artery, a four inch chest compromise, and burns to the

chest and groin area.” HM1 Bryan would receive an award for his

speed and skill in treating him. At the time of his interview, Kingdon had been promoted to gunnery sergeant, was back on full

duty with Det One, and his arm was working at “98 percent.” 
Despite the problems during the breach and the

injuries to two men, the raid achieved its objective.

The target was killed and several items were taken

during sensitive site exploitation. The intensive training that the detachment had gone through for a year

paid off. “Prosecution of the target continued fluidly

and simultaneously while the casualty was treated

and evacuated,” wrote Major Kozeniesky. Objective

Ricochet was the only direct action operation in

which a Det One Marine was wounded, and moreover, the only raid in which any shots were fired during the actual assault. Shortly after Ricochet, the

entire task group received an order that stopped all

direct action raids.

Supporting Task Unit North

While Task Unit Raider operated in Baghdad, the

Det One Marines with the outlying task units were

busy as well.

Gunnery Sergeant James A. Crawford, one of the

two radio reconnaissance team leaders in the Det

One intelligence element, arrived in Baghdad on the

first planeload. The quiet Georgian and former infantryman spent his first week sorting out the situation on the ground, then was instructed to take his

team and one counterintelligence Marine to support

Task Unit North. Switching out one member of his

team for another—he had two Arabic linguists and

needed to leave one at Camp Myler—they departed

on 15 April 2004.

Crawford’s team consisted of Sergeant William S.

Benedict, Sergeant Daryl J. Anderson, and Staff Sergeant William B. Parker. Parker had joined the Marine

Corps later in life than most of his colleagues; when

the detachment deployed to Iraq, he was in his late

thirties but was still a relatively junior Marine. A man

of many talents, he had formal instruction in Arabic

and would use that skill to good effect.* Also part of

the team was a bespectacled former mortarman from

the counterintelligence section, Staff Sergeant Daniel

L. Williams. Although Williams looked like a misplaced computer programmer, he was in fact a

shrewd and experienced HUMINT operative who

had honed his skills in the Balkans and Afghanistan.

Just prior to deployment, Williams went to a six-week

Arabic immersion course and came away with some

basic skills, although nothing like he would need to

operate without a translator. Despite being the sole

Marine HUMINT collector in the city where they deployed, his work would have an immediate impact

on the insurgent cells there.

The SEALs made the Marines feel welcome. “They

treated us like we were somebody,” said Crawford,

having half-expected the opposite.12 They allotted the

Marines good living and working spaces and more

importantly, allowed them the operational freedom

to use both their technical skills and their gunfighting

abilities. Williams was stunned at the reception: “We

landed on the airstrip, and they [the SEALs] had two

trucks full of guys who unloaded all of our gear for

us, stacked it up, had coffee and snacks waiting, then

drove us over to our trailers. They gave us everything

we could have asked for or wanted.”13 The next day,

Crawford and Williams gave a short capabilities brief,

the gist of which was: “we’re here to build targets for

you to hit, and this is how we’re going to do it.” One

SEAL expressed reservations that they could deliver.

Crawford and Williams made it a point to make sure

that they over-delivered. 

Within a week after arrival, Task Unit North exe60 DET ONE

Photo courtesy of Det One

GySgt James A. Crawford of Det One’s radio reconnaissance section puts his .45-caliber pistol through its

paces at Range 130 during Weapons and Tactics

Package I. The skills that Crawford and others

learned there— marksmanship, mindset, and gunhandling—came into play later in Iraq.

* He had been, among other things, a garbage man. He took that

job in order to satisfy his own curiosity; it would not be incorrect

to say that the same impulse led him to the Marine Corps.
“Ops Normal” 61

cuted its first hit. Staff Sergeant Williams worked

closely with the other intelligence cells in the city and

with the task group in Baghdad, and based on information derived from them, he produced actionable

intelligence on a target. When the task unit drove out

of the gate on the first mission, the Marines were fully

integrated into the raid force. Staff Sergeant Parker,

with his language skills, did most of the radio reconnaissance work; Gunnery Sergeant Crawford and Sergeants Anderson and Benedict were “average Joes,”

but Benedict manned a machine gun as well as an

electronic jammer. The radio reconnaissance Marines

also handled the items taken in sensitive site exploitation, especially phones and other electronics.

Williams filled his role as the one-man HUMINT element, waiting to do tactical interrogations of detainees. The SEALs brought 14 detainees off the first

target, and Williams interrogated them all, assisted by

a Navy (and former Marine) linguist and Staff Sergeant Parker. The subsequent intelligence enabled

them to roll up most of the local terrorist network,

methodically, mission by mission, over the next several weeks. One of the first 14 detainees was the

leader of a cell tied to Ansar al-Sunna, an al-Qaida

affiliate.14

The work that Williams did so well had its downside. His operational cycle was “two days on and four

hours off,” a good indication of his dedication to duty

but a reminder of why counterintelligence Marines

are usually employed in pairs. Working with other

agencies, running sources, going on missions, interrogating detainees, and reporting up the chain-ofcommand was a tall order for one man, even for a

short duration.

Williams’s most important duty was interrogations.

Staff Sergeant Parker helped him, using his Arabic

skills at times more to keep an eye on the translator

than to translate.* The linguist had to say exactly what

the interrogator said, mimicking his tone and emphasis. If the translator faltered, Parker knew enough

Arabic to say, “You’re not translating that right. I

know what he [Williams] said, and I know what you

said.” He then would point out the discrepancies.15

Staff Sergeant Williams had his own detention facility to house detainees from Task Unit North’s raids,

and guards to run it. His operations coincided with

the revelations of the Abu Ghraib scandal, and its effects were quickly felt. But the task unit had good

procedures that both protected them and looked after

their detainees. Each was medically checked when

he came in and when he went out, both by the SEALs

and by third parties. Some of the Iraqis who were

guests of the task unit howled at the treatment in an

effort to make trouble for the Americans. Williams

weathered more than one investigation, but nobody

could fault his procedures or adherence to the rules.

The Abu Ghraib incident produced substantial

changes in interrogations and detainee handling, not

so much in the methods used—although some methods were curtailed—but after Abu Ghraib, interrogators had more people looking over their shoulders,

which acted as a psychological constraint on them.

Not being wedded to questionable methods, Williams

and the other Det One interrogators relied on classic

techniques to get the information they needed, and

invariably they succeeded.16

Even though they were sometimes stymied by the

language barrier, Gunnery Sergeant Crawford’s radio

reconnaissance Marines did a variety of collections,

even in their off hours. On a few occasions, they

could hear people talking about them as they drove

out on missions. Setting aside the somewhat offputting nature of this discovery, they saw an opportunity in it. One night they went out for the sole

purpose of intercepting the traffic that seemed to give

away their movements. Staff Sergeant Parker and his

fellow Marines triangulated it and identified the

source location. Fortunately, it turned out that the

transmitters were not enemy forces, but local levies

just practicing bad communications security. They

were unwittingly tipping off anyone who was listening to the operations of the task unit. Crawford

passed the word up his chain of command, and

through delicate liaison with higher headquarters,

those responsible were persuaded to cease and desist.*

In the month and a half on station, the Marines

with Task Unit North went out on approximately 18

raids. Through their efforts, the task unit was able to

identify, target, and disrupt the local insurgent structure and completely eliminate three of its cells. What

stopped Task Unit North from getting the rest was

not enemy action, but an abrupt change in the task

group’s mission.

Supporting Task Unit West

Det One supported Task Unit West in al-Anbar

Province as well as in northern Iraq. Major Carter se-

* The interpreters, or “terps,” that Williams and Parker were concerned with were not SEALs, but contractors, native speakers

whose loyalties were sometimes in doubt. Parker referred to dealing with the interpreters as “terp wrangling.”

* MSgt Harrington and his Marines made a similar discovery in

Baghdad. Some American personnel at Baghdad International Airport were heard freely discussing Task Unit Raider’s movements

over unsecured nets when the raid force exited the base. The practice was immediately and firmly corrected. 
lected Master Sergeant Bret A. Hayes, his intelligence

chief, to go out to al-Anbar Province with Gunnery

Sergeant Matthew A. Ulmer, the counterintelligence

chief. Because the task unit’s base was not far from

the base of the 1st Marine Division’s Regimental Combat Team Seven, the reasoning behind sending only

two Marines (albeit very senior ones) was that they

could leverage the capabilities in the intelligence sections of the Marine units. Hayes knew the 7th Marines

intelligence officer and intelligence chief very well;

Ulmer likewise knew the counterintelligence Marines.

The two Marines received a less enthusiastic welcome than their northern counterparts but were

quickly rolled into Task Unit West operations. Master

Sergeant Hayes noted that the SEALs, in his experience, tended to treat support personnel as outsiders,

but they accepted the Marines as “operators.” In one

instance, Hayes asked the task unit commander for

permission to detail a Navy intelligence specialist to

fly in a helicopter to take photographs of a site of interest near Haditha Dam. The answer he got was that

the sailor was not a SEAL and therefore was unsuitable for the task. Hayes went to 7th Marines’ intelligence section and borrowed a lance corporal, who

went up and got the images that Hayes needed.17

In contrast to tight urban areas like Baghdad, Task

Unit West had a huge operating area, all of western

Anbar province, where population centers were separated by vast amounts of nothing. The differences

in distances were evident as Task Unit West executed

its first mission the night after the Marines arrived, an

operation near Haditha Dam on the Euphrates River.

To illustrate the distances involved, Task Unit Raider’s

first operation involved an approach lasting no more

than a few minutes; the convoy for Task Unit West’s

first mission took an hour and 40 minutes to arrive on

target. The mission was a success, and the SEALs

brought the man they were seeking back to their

compound. The post-operation actions were similar

to those in Baghdad, except out west, they lacked

certain facilities. Gunnery Sergeant Ulmer interrogated the detainees at his small detention facility, but

he had to hand them off to the 7th Marines after

about 24 hours. As with Task Unit Raider and Task

Unit North, there were Army Special Forces teams in

this area. Both teams excelled at HUMINT and cooperated closely with the SEAL task unit.

After the first few weeks on station, Task Unit West

leadership traveled to Ramadi to confer with the 1st

Marine Division on operations in and around Fallujah. The division was planning a major sweep around

the city. The task unit leadership made contact with

the Marines’ tactical fusion center (which had absorbed much of I Marine Expeditionary Force’s intelligence section on top of its own assets) and with the

local special forces team. The members of the task

unit then moved down to Camp Fallujah, where they

conferred further with the commanders of 1st Marines

and 7th Marines and formed a plan. Task Unit West

would provide sniper support but would also maintain an on-call direct action capability to seize highvalue targets of opportunity. (Staff liaison with 1st

Marines was helped by the fact that the regimental

executive officer had once been Master Sergeant

Hayes’s company commander. Hayes and Ulmer

were also glad to be able to spend some time at

Camp Fallujah with Colonel Robert J. Coates.) When

offensive operations in Fallujah ceased indefinitely,

Task Unit West was turned to running counter-mortar and counter-rocket patrols in an area near the Marine base. Following that task, the task unit was

released from duty in and around Camp Fallujah.18

After Fallujah, Task Unit West returned to its home

compound, where it resumed operations. Some were

directed at insurgents, targeting a three-pronged intersection south of Haditha where roadside bombs

were all too common. Members of the unit also

started planning a major operation in conjunction

with the 7th Marines in which the SEALs of Task Unit

West would assault a site to seize two high-value targets while the Marines would roll in with vehicles to

cordon off the area. The task group in Baghdad supported the planning by filling Master Sergeant Hayes’s

extensive “laundry list” of intelligence requirements.

Task Unit West continued to run operations throughout its very large area of operations, including more

joint operations with the special forces. One mission

rolled up a suspect who led them to actionable intelligence on bomb makers in Husaybah and alQaim, important towns and constant trouble spots

right on the Syrian border.19

On 18 May, Master Sergeant Hayes went home to

the United States, where his wife was giving birth.

During the brief time he was gone, the nature of task

group’s deployment changed, and when he returned

to Iraq, Task Unit West was in Baghdad. He and Gunnery Sergeant Ulmer were rolled back into general

duties supporting the task group and Task Unit

Raider. Almost two months into the deployment,

Hayes was finally doing his job as Det One intelligence chief, and Ulmer was serving once again as

counterintelligence chief.

Colonel Coates in Fallujah

On 23 April 2004, Colonel Coates departed Baghdad for Camp Fallujah. Due to the provisions of the

memorandum of agreement between the Marine

62 DET ONE
“Ops Normal” 63

Corps and Naval Special Warfare, he stepped aside

but retained his command of the detachment. Rather

than have him return to Camp Pendleton, the commanding general of Marine Forces Central Command

sent him to I Marine Expeditionary Force (I MEF) as

his liaison officer, where his experience in unconventional warfare could be best employed.

When Colonel Coates arrived at Camp Fallujah, the

situation was in a tense stalemate. Marine units occupied a quarter of Fallujah but were held in their

positions by orders from commands higher than I

MEF. An agreement had been reached with the elders in the city—those who could be found and persuaded to negotiate—to turn in all heavy weapons

and munitions, but no true cease-fire existed. Fire

fights were common; one Marine company commander joked that the insurgents apparently interpreted the agreement to hand over their weapons

and munitions as “giving them to us one round at a

time.”20

Lieutenant General James T. Conway, the I MEF

commander, needed to solve the problem. The most

effective course of action, a rapid and violent thrust

to seize the rest of the city, was no longer available

to him. At this point, on or about 21 April, a former

Iraqi general appeared on the scene with an interesting plan. He said that in a matter of days, he could

form and field an indigenous force to address the security of Fallujah. He would take orders from General

Conway, and the Marines would pay and support the

force. Taken on face value, this plan held great promise: an Iraqi solution to an Iraqi problem. Moreover,

it was a Sunni-based solution and was supported by

the emerging interim government. Once the plan was

implemented, Marines could be withdrawn from the

city and redeployed to the areas from which they had

come, and they could begin to redevelop the operational themes of security, stability and reconstruction.

For better or for worse, the Fallujah Brigade, as it

quickly began to be called, became the best choice

on a very short list of options. It offered a solution to

the prevailing operational dilemma, the imperative to

keep the pressure on the insurgent groups in Fallujah while not engaging in direct offensive action. It

promised a way to engage and shape the city and

force the Iraqis to deal with their own problems. A

success would be significant and would portend

good things for other trouble spots in Iraq. The risk

was that the whole scheme would fail.

Lieutenant General Conway selected Colonel

Coates to be the point man with the Fallujah Brigade.

He would deliver Conway’s intentions and instructions and would pay the Iraqis as agreed. He would

also seek to keep them focused on the task at hand,

hold them to their agreements, and report back to

the commanding general on their performance.

Coates needed every scrap of his experience in unconventional operations to keep the organization in

line and working toward the right goals, harkening

back to his time as an advisor in El Salvador. Accompanied by an Arabic-speaking Marine officer,

Captain Rodrick H. McHaty, and a small detail of

Marines, he went to meet with his new charges on 30

April. The next day, Coates confirmed that the first

battalion of the brigade, numbering approximately

300 men, had reported for duty, with several hundred more expected in a few days’ time.*21

Throughout the late spring and summer of 2004,

Colonel Coates and his team were in and out of the

Fallujah Brigade’s lines on a regular basis. Much of

his work was simple communication, telling the

Iraqis what they needed to do, reminding them what

they said they were going to do, ensuring that supplies were being distributed, and then either delivering or withholding payments as the occasion

warranted. This was certainly a laborious process.

The enemy’s agile information machine had spun the

Americans’ withdrawal from the city as a defeat. One

story attributed it in part to divine intervention in the

form of a horde of “heavenly camel spiders” descending upon the invaders and forcing them out.

The Fallujah Brigade soldiers or jundi gleefully accepted this peculiar assessment as an article of faith,

even though they were ostensibly on the coalition’s

side. Coates’s tasks included trying to disabuse them

of strange notions and to get them operating on concrete lines. As he told the credulous jundi, “There are

no spider bites,” and he rolled up his sleeves to prove

it to them.

Once the odd new unit was in place and assigned

its own sector, a curious thing happened: the fighting

stopped. There was much debate within the Marine

headquarters over whether this development was a

product of the Fallujah Brigade asserting itself over

the insurgents or allying itself with them. It was an

open secret that many of today’s jundi were probably yesterday’s (and possibly tomorrow’s) insurgents,

but given the uncertain nature of unconventional warfare, to say nothing of the importance of the mission,

the Marine leadership was willing to give the initiative

an opportunity to stand or fall on its own merits.

* The MEF G-3, Col Larry K. Brown, remarked somewhat harshly,

but not without justification, in an interview with the author that

when the first contingent of the Fallujah Brigade fell into formation

as promised, it was the first time he had seen an Iraqi “do anything

he’d promised, on time.”
More importantly, perhaps, than simply ending the

fighting was the intelligence the Marines gained from

the Fallujah Brigade on the situation inside the city.

Colonel John C. Coleman, the MEF chief of staff,

noted that “we gained a window into the insurgency

that we would otherwise have spent months wrestling

to understand.”22 It turned out that the insurgency inside the city was no monolith; it had fault lines and

fractures. At the same time that the Marines were

working hard to direct the Fallujah Brigade, they were

also profiting from a new vantage point, gathering intelligence and honing tactics, techniques, and procedures. 

Colonel Coates took a long-term view of the Fallujah Brigade and was under no illusions about instant

operational miracles. Counterinsurgency operations

are measured in years, not weeks or months. If the

venture succeeded, then so much the better in his

opinion, but he knew from his daily contact that it

was a shaky proposition. He wanted to make sure that

the Marines extracted the most value they could out

of the Iraqi unit, so that if the time came again when

coalition forces had to mount a final operation to take

the city, there would be no question that the command had fought smart as well as hard, and had exhausted all means to crack this very hard nut.23

Some of the attractive aspects to the brigade were

also its weak points, namely that it was full of locals

who identified with the old Iraqi military. After its initial successes, the Fallujah Brigade’s inherent contradictions began to tell, and its effectiveness declined

as the summer of 2004 progressed. Contact between

insurgents, Fallujah Brigade units, and American

forces increased, and indirect fire on Marine bases

once again became a daily event. The hearts and

minds of the brigade’s leadership were in the right

place, but they could not address the hard-core elements and fully assert themselves over the city. As the

Iraq unit became less of an asset and more of a liability, Colonel Coates lent his expertise to unpublicized operations aimed at exploiting divisions in the

insurgency and then assisted another Iraqi unit that

could and did fight.

By the end of May 2004, Detachment One and its

elements were deeply involved in a wide range of operations. The main body, Task Unit Raider, had found

its operational niche and was operating in an increasingly efficient battle rhythm. A handful of

Marines in the two outlying task units were providing

critical intelligence support to their SEAL brethren.

Colonel Coates was engaged in a momentous effort to

direct an indigenous force to deal with the biggest

problem in Iraq.

On 28 May, Commander Wilson received word that

his mission was changing. He was ordered to shift

focus from offensive operations to a defensive operation, protecting the four principal figures of the interim Iraqi government.

64 DET ONE
65

Protecting the Iraqi Leaders

After he received the order on 28 May 2004 to

cease direct action operations, Commander William

W. Wilson pulled in all his forces, including Task Unit

Raider, and reorganized them for the new protective

mission, the personal security detail. Wilson’s two priority information requirements shifted to a single

overriding question: who was trying to kill the interim Iraqi government leaders? Every action that any

member of the task group took from that point on

was dedicated to keeping the Iraqi president, prime

minister, and two vice presidents alive. The personal

security detail became, in the words of Wilson and

many others, “the most important mission in Iraq.”1

Task Unit Raider’s Marines were assigned to cover

one of the two vice presidents, Rowsch Shaways, a

Kurd. Captain Eric N. Thompson was assigned as the

“agent in charge” of the detail, and as such, he was

offered an interesting view of Kurdish politics as well

as a look at the workings of the interim Iraqi government and the Coalition Provisional Authority.

Thompson handled Shaways’s schedule and itinerary

and spent as much time in Irbil, Kurdistan, as he did

in Baghdad. Det One Marines on Shaways’s detail in

Baghdad performed, in Thompson’s words, “some

very hairy missions.”2

The Marines had not trained, as a unit, to do personal security work. Captain Thompson threw himself into educating and organizing his platoon,

drawing from the SEALs’ extensive knowledge and

from the U.S. Department of State representatives

who came out to assist them. A few of the Marines,

including Gunnery Sergeant John A. Dailey, had

some previous experience with personal security details. Dailey took it upon himself to read as much as

he could on the tasks involved (because he thought

it was something that Marines should know how to

do), and he contacted one of his old platoon commanders, who had become a U.S. Secret Service

agent, for advice. Dailey became the advance man

for Vice President Shaways’s detail, arriving first at all

venues to check the physical security.3 It was Dailey

and the others from Task Unit Raider who did the

“hairy missions,” escorting Shaways in and out of

Baghdad at a time when every terrorist and insurgent

in the country wanted to kill him.

Just as quickly as the close protective mission

came, it ended for Task Unit Raider. Within a week,

Commander Wilson assessed the situation and decided he could cover his details and still reconstitute

an offensive capability.* The resumption of the offensive supported the larger effort by giving Wilson

the ability to hit first instead of simply standing by

and waiting for an attack, trying to dodge it or worse

yet, hoping just to withstand it. The SEAL task units

stayed on the personal security detail, but the Marines

were drawn out of it, and Task Unit Raider was again

organized for direct action and other offensive missions. The Marines’ role in the most important mission in Iraq would be to strike at the car-bomb

makers and facilitators, since it was clear to Wilson

that the vehicle-borne suicide bomb was the most

dangerous weapon the insurgents possessed.4

Commander Wilson also had another force he

could draw on: the Polish GROM was formed as a

separate task unit, named Task Unit Thunder, and

joined the Marines for direct action.** The GROM figured prominently in the Det One story, for in their

members, the Marines saw kindred souls: big, aggressive, smart gunfighters, utterly reliable, and completely dedicated to the task at hand. To a man, the

Marines were effusive in their praise of the Polish operators. Commander Wilson called them “the finest

non-U.S. special operations force” of his experience.

If the GROM had any limitation, it was only in certain

command and control capabilities, specifically in

fires, intelligence fusion, and liaison with conventional units. Wilson decided that he was going to set

them up to succeed in independent operations, and

in mid-June, he detailed Det One’s Captain Stephen

V. Fiscus and a small liaison cell of Marines and

SEALs to embed with them.5 In exchange for a handful of personnel, Wilson gained a completely new

task unit, and the Raider/Thunder alliance proved to

be a potent combination over subsequent weeks.

Commander Wilson had girded his force for action.

Chapter 6

Direct Action

* The terms of the 20 February 2003 memorandum of agreement

with SOCom probably also played a significant part. The detachment was deployed to perform four missions, none of which was

a personal security detail.

** Grupa Reagowania Operacyjno Manewrowego, which translates

to Operational Mobile Reaction Group. The acronym GROM is the

Polish word for thunder.
The SEAL task units formed the task group’s shield

around the Iraqi leaders, while Task Units Raider and

Thunder formed the sword.

With the SEAL task units consolidating in Baghdad, individual personnel were also shifted. The intelligence Marines with what had been Task Unit

West were brought back into the fold, while those

with the former Task Unit North remained with the

SEALs and moved into roles more directly related to

protecting the Iraqi government officials. Most of the

intelligence element remained in general support to

the task group. Major Craig S. Kozeniesky shifted his

duties to one job—command of Task Unit Raider.

One very important material result of the mission

shift was that Task Unit Raider received several new,

purpose-built M113 armored hunekers from the

SEALs. This represented a substantial boost in their

tactical capabilities, gave the Marines a deeper field

of mobility assets, and covered the shortcomings of

the assault vehicles they had built for themselves.

That shift in assets caused some grumbling from the

SEALs, but it made sense. If the Marines were to go

out beyond the wire and hit targets, they needed the

means to do so effectively.

After The Protective Detail

Task Unit Raider came off the brief period of protective duty by launching Objective Razor, the third in

a series of raids targeting a notorious insurgent facilitator. Five days later, the Marines hit their next target,

the leader of a large and active cell. Objective Radiate began a period of sustained direct action operations against cell leaders, bomb makers, and other

major malefactors, leading up to the planned 30 June

transfer of sovereignty to the new Iraqi government.

The significance of these operations was clear: any

threat to the emerging government needed to be

dealt with quickly and decisively, not only to protect

the principals, but to enforce their authority.

At 0230 on 13 June, the raid on Objective Radiate

began. The operation netted several detainees, and

while the Marine counterintelligence team sifted

through them on site, one of them admitted he was

the target; the others were released while he was

taken back to task group headquarters. Several items

were also taken that strongly suggested anti-Coalition

activities, including “coffins draped with U.S. flags,

Ansar Al Sunna videos, and a family photo with Saddam.” The other curious aspect of the operation was

substantial Iraqi police activity in the immediate vicinity. The Marines were wary of the police but did not

interfere.6

On 18 June, the task unit executed a raid on Objective Raven. The target was a man suspected of

being a car bomb maker. The information came once

again from the always active source operations of 2d

Battalion, 5th Special Forces Group. The target site

was a farm not far outside Baghdad. The original plan

for the mission was for Task Unit Raider, Task Unit

Thunder, 1st Squadron, 5th U.S. Cavalry, and an Iraqi

unit to strike several targets in sequence. Several individuals were targeted; Task Unit Raider’s own target was a man who was suspected of regularly

importing cars, which were then turned into suicide

bombs at his farm and passed to cells around Baghdad. The intelligence on the targets came from a

source who planned to attend a gathering of all the

important figures targeted in the mission and provide

the trigger for execution.7 The detailed planning for

Raven was upset when the source reported that the

location for the meeting had been secured by a Coalition conventional unit conducting its own operations.

The decision was made to execute the raid on the

farm as planned, as the source expected that the targets would rendezvous there instead. 

The Marines later reported that the approach to

the target site was “uneventful.” This was something

of a misstatement, as a few things happened to enliven the proceedings. The convoy was navigating by

global positioning system, but the source stated several times that the Marines had missed key turns. The

convoy continued on its course, as the Marines had

justifiable confidence in their equipment and their

planning, and they assessed that “the source was obviously confused about exactly where he was.” His

confusion continued as, right after the convoy made

its final turn into the target’s street, he “belatedly indicated” that they had driven past the house. Having

no more confidence in the man’s sense of direction,

the assault force headed for the target as they had

planned.8

Moments before the assault began, a car left the

target site and drove toward the convoy. When the

car failed to obey warnings to stop, it was engaged

first with a Marine’s M4 and then with a .50-caliber

machine gun, both bursts being directed across the

front of the car rather than into it, in case it was

rigged as a bomb. The driver of the car got out and

“crawled down the street” until he was stopped by

Marines as the assault was in progress. 

From that moment, the raid proceeded without incident. Curiously, the door to the house was found

open, so the assault force literally walked in instead

of blowing the door in or breaking it down. While

the house was being secured and searched, the assault teams moved a short way down the road to assault other buildings. The AC-130 and HH-60s

66 DET ONE
Direct Action 67

reported several “squirters” escaping the house, who

were promptly pursued and apprehended. Seventeen

males were detained, so many that Major Kozeniesky 

decided that they would have to be airlifted out

rather than taken back in the convoy. One of them

was identified as the target of the raid. The operation

yielded light weapons but no car bombs or bombmaking materials.* The raid force returned to Camp

Myler without incident.9

Major Kozeniesky lauded the performance of the

Marines on this operation, noting that the combination of a large target area, multiple structures, and vehicle threats prompted all hands to perform beyond

even the normal high expectations. He logged the

operation as another blow struck at the bomb makers and insurgent leaders threatening the Iraqi government. While accepting the reality of

“less-than-perfect intelligence” on some of the targets,

he noted: “The nature of the threat and the strategic

significance of the turnover [transfer of sovereignty]

dictate that we err on the side of action.”10

Task Unit Raider continued to opt for action

throughout June. At 0300 on 22 June, it executed its

tenth direct-action raid, Objective Recoil. Second Battalion, 5th Special Forces Group, provided the highquality intelligence sources that were becoming a

regular feature of many of the task group’s operations. What made Recoil exceptional was the timeline from notification to execution. Major Kozeniesky

wrote that, while engaged in planning for Objective

Relinquish, they were notified of the need to hit Recoil that night. “We began Recoil planning from a

completely cold start around 2300, were on the objective a little over four hours later (0315), and were

back inside friendly lines roughly a half hour after

the first breach (0348).” This level of execution illustrated the high level of readiness maintained by the

Marines and their ability to drop whatever they were

doing and concentrate exclusively and effectively on

a priority operation. The assault force hit the target’s

residence and place of business in rapid succession,

detaining him and taking away items after a search of

both places. In addition to praising the intelligence

work by the special forces, Kozeniesky also singled

out the naval pilots and crews of Helicopter Combat

Support Squadron 4 (HCS-4), noting that they responded with admirable speed and efficiency to the

short-notice call to arms.11

Less than 24 hours after Recoil, the Marines executed a combined raid with the GROM on Objective

Relinquish. This operation marked the first use of a

source run completely by Det One counterintelligence Marines. The source was passed to them by

other government agencies in Baghdad, where he

had produced intelligence for task group targets in

the past. Staff Sergeant Scott J. Beretz worked the

source for two weeks to develop the intelligence on

the target, which consisted of an individual or individuals strongly suspected to be producing car

bombs for use against the Iraqi government. Descriptions and names were not known, but the source

was reliable, and Major Kozeniesky’s policy was to

act on good intelligence rather than wait for perfect

intelligence. The source indicated that the latest two

vehicles, a van and a sport utility vehicle, had already

been prepared as bombs and were almost ready for

use. The two vehicles were at separate locations a

few hundred meters apart. Task Unit Raider took one

location, and the Task Unit Thunder, augmented for

this mission by more counterintelligence and fires

Marines, took the other.

The raid began with Task Unit Raider making a

soft approach and a stealthy entrance to the target location. Inside the wall of the property, the Marines

found three vehicles, one of them the van. The explosive ordnance disposal technicians swept the vehicles to make sure they were not loaded with

explosives, and when they gave the signal that the

vehicles were clear, the assault teams breached and

entered the house. A short distance down the street,

Task Unit Thunder did the same. Inside, the Marines

found several people, including two military-age

males who were detained. The Marines towed away

the van and disabled the other two cars. After it was

clear that the van was not a functional bomb at the

moment, the only drama of the night occurred when

Major Thomas P. Dolan, serving as forward air controller, saw a vehicle on a side street flash its lights

three times. He asked the helicopters overhead to

check it out. The pilots saw the car’s lights flash three

times again but reported no other visible activity.

Dolan and the pilots thought that it could have been

a prearranged signal by anti-Coalition forces, but it

could just as well have been a remote entry device

being used for its intended purpose. They took no

further action.*

Based on the intelligence gathered from the site

and from the two detainees, the raid on Objective Re-

* The intelligence debrief on the mission did note an unlikely combination of materials found on scene: “a picture of [Muqtada al]

Sadr and Maxim magazines.”

* In one of the bizarre side stories that always seemed to accompany these raids, the intelligence debrief noted that two men were

seen outside a nearby building. “When the assaulters approached

them the individuals asked in English, ‘we go inside now?’ The assaulter told them to go inside and they went.” 
68 DET ONE

.408-caliber Chey-Tac .50-caliber M82 Barrett

7.62mm M40A3 7.62mm SR-25

Det One Sniper Rifles

linquish was judged a success. The two men confessed to anti-Coalition involvement and provided actionable intelligence on local insurgent activities,

which was quickly passed up the chain-of-command

for other units to execute. Tests done by explosive

experts on the van indicated traces of ammonium nitrate, a fertilizer compound used in improvised explosives, and it too was passed to higher

headquarters for further exploitation.12

On 23 June, after resting and recovering from Relinquish, the Marines took a day off at the pool on the

special forces’ compound to mark the one-year anniversary of the unit’s activation. As Major Kozeniesky

wrote: “We have come a long way in a relatively short

period of time—from moving into our new compound and putting names with new faces a year ago,

to conducting direct action raids in Baghdad alongside Polish SOF, using Special Forces sources, with

Navy and Air Force special operations aircraft in support.”13

The birthday celebration called for a pause but not

a vacation, and the task unit returned, refreshed, to

Camp Myler, to address the business at hand. In the

last few days before the transfer of sovereignty, Major

Kozeniesky intended to keep the insurgent cells off

balance by striking as many targets as he could since

the general expectation in the task group was that

the new government would take a somewhat less aggressive stance. They began to prepare for the next

operation, Objective Recruit. The intelligence for Recruit was derived from the exploitation of detainees

from Objective Radiate, executed on 13 June. The targets were individuals in the same cell who had

eluded capture on that previous raid. Two in particular were targeted for capture or killing; the Marines

took one, and the Poles of Task Unit Thunder took

the other. 

At 0208 on 29 June, Task Unit Raider’s assault

teams went over the wall of their assigned target

house. During the approach, the AC-130 had reported figures fleeing from the roof of the house to

an adjacent structure, so the assault force made ready

to breach and enter that building too. At the first

house, they attempted an explosive breach, which

malfunctioned. Before the secondary breach could

even be attempted, someone opened the front door

from the inside. The assault teams entered and secured the residence, rounding up the occupants, including two males. The Marines also secured several

items of interest, including a car, anti-Coalition propaganda, a washing-machine timer, and a remote-control car, the latter two both standard homemade

Photos Courtesy of Det One
Direct Action 69

bomb components. (There was also a page from a

book showing the locations of U.S. military bases

overseas.) The Marines also found, but did not touch,

bloody bed linens, which the intelligence debrief

later noted “would support some reporting on

wounded foreign fighters” in transit through the

area.14

Based on the in-stride surveillance of the target

area by the AC-130, the Marines mounted a rapid assault on the adjacent building, where they detained

six more males and more electronic components. Onsite interrogations by Staff Sergeant Beretz turned into

he-said/she-said finger pointing. One young man said

that this was the target’s house and that he was the

target’s nephew, but that he had not seen his uncle

in a long time. One woman pointed to a man taken

from the second house and said that he was the target. He, of course, remained silent. A third person

said that the target lived across the street. Major Kozeniesky decided to take all the detainees back to task

group headquarters and sort them out there, suspecting that they already had the man they wanted,

and even if they did not, the others would be full of

interesting information.15

Following the execution of Recruit, Gunnery Sergeant Joseph L. Morrison of Team 2 was injured in a

training session. The injury was not life-threatening,

but it aggravated a career’s worth of hard use on his

body, such that he needed to go home for surgery

and recovery. The assistant team leader, Staff Sergeant Kevin J. Harris, took his place. The accident

came during practice in hand-to-hand combat. Det

One trained hard even while it was working hard.16

On 2 July, Task Unit Raider executed a raid on Objective Republican, the largest operation to date. The

target of the raid was another car-bomb maker. Another target was assigned to Task Unit Thunder. The

intelligence was supplied by 2d Battalion, 5th Special Forces Group, which also coordinated the participation of the 36th Battalion, Iraqi National Guard,

a high-quality unit that the battalion trained and advised. The task group needed the Iraqis because the

intelligence indicated that a mosque was being used

for the construction and staging of car bombs.17

Task Units Raider and Thunder left Camp Myler

and linked up with the Army and Iraqi units in the

Green Zone, where they conducted rehearsals and

final coordination. The individual units left in turn;

Raider arrived at the set point just after 0200 and

began a dismounted approach to the target house.

While the Marines were scaling the wall, a male exited the front door and was immediately detained.

The assault teams entered and cleared the structure,

declaring it secure after five minutes. Outside, gunshots were heard down the block, but no one could

pinpoint their origin, and no further action was

taken.18

Three males, including the primary target himself,

were detained and dropped off at the Green Zone,

along with multiple bomb-making components, a

computer, and several hundred blank Iraqi passports.

The operation continued to strengthen the ties with

the Polish unit and the special forces and gave the

Marines an opportunity to work with Iraqi units.

Major Kozeniesky concluded that Task Unit Raider

had “dealt the cell a serious blow” that would “limit

its ability to construct and employ car bombs for the

foreseeable future. Mission was a success.”19

Local Counter-Rocket Operations

Following the transfer of sovereignty from the

Coalition Provisional Authority to the Iraqi interim

government, Task Unit Raider stepped back from the

spate of direct action missions against bomb makers

that characterized much of the month of June and

began a series of operations geared more toward protecting its own base. All Coalition bases were the targets of insurgent rocket and mortar attacks, but Camp

Myler and Baghdad International Airport had recently

received several attacks. The worst was a direct hit on

the task group operations center that seriously

wounded a SEAL and destroyed some equipment.*

Major Kozeniesky turned the operational capabilities

of his task unit to striking at these local threats.

On several days during the month of June, Marines

had been compelled to man their assigned positions

for base defense after incidents of small arms and indirect fire. On 30 June, the Marines established a

sniper and observation position at Camp Myler, dedicated specifically to the base defense plan, to be occupied continuously until further notice. Even with

only a pair of Marines on duty at any given time, this

move represented a regular manpower drain. Once

again, Colonel Coates’s every-Marine-a-rifleman philosophy paid dividends, as support section and headquarters Marines ably addressed this requirement as

well as serving on other missions, decreasing the burdens on the reconnaissance element.20

The intelligence element also turned its attention

to the local threat. Master Sergeant Hays B. Harrington’s signals intelligence section produced informa-

* HM1 Matthew S. Pranka treated the casualty, helped save his life,

and was decorated. The citation read, in part: “Pranka leapt into

action from his quarters several hundred meters away. Rather than

seeking cover during the rocket barrage, he sprinted across open

terrain to come to the aid of the wounded sailor.”
tion that pointed to a certain residence in the vicinity. The high-tech SIGINT revelation was supported

by an old but effective technique called crater analysis, in which a Marine measures and orients a shell

crater to get a back azimuth to its point of origin and

a rough indication of the size and type of round.

Gunnery Sergeant Matthew A. Ulmer and Staff Sergeant Beretz began cultivating sources in the local

area in order to root out information on the attackers.21 While the intelligence was being gathered and

analyzed, Major Kozeniesky and the staff coordinated

with the Army unit that owned the local battlespace,

4th Battalion, 5th Air Defense Artillery. The soldiers

had an immediate interest in the success of any raids

directed at indirect fire threats and agreed to provide

the quick reaction force. On this raid, the task unit

would also employ a new technique, an eight-man

“squirter control team” to deal with people fleeing

the target house. This immediate reaction force, aloft

in one of the HH-60s that always supported them,

was provided by Task Unit Thunder.22

The series of raids aimed at the local indirect fire

problem began with Objective Roundup. The attack

launched at 0300 on 6 July. After a short approach to

the target, which was less than five kilometers from

Camp Myler, the assault force reached the set point

and split up to assault the two target buildings simultaneously. It hit each building hard, then executed a rapid follow-on assault on another building,

based on the questioning of the residents of the first

two houses. The Marines detained three men, all of

whom provided information on rocket attacks that

led to subsequent operations.23

The detainee interrogations were fed back into the

targeting cycle, along with more information from 4th

Battalion, 5th Air Defense Artillery, and 2d Battalion,

5th Special Forces Group. Also thrown into the intelligence mix was a very useful item that was recovered by 1st Reconnaissance Battalion during a raid in

al-Anbar Province: a global positioning system receiver. It contained hundreds of stored waypoints,

many of which corresponded to locations associated

with the Camp Myler rocket attacks, indicating possible points of origin or cache sites. Meanwhile, 2d

Battalion, 5th Special Forces, was devising a plan,

called Operation Serpent Strike, to bait the local insurgents into firing at the base by setting up a stage

and leaking information that a large event was going

to occur. They coordinated with an artillery unit to

site a counterbattery radar set to track the incoming

rounds, while aircraft circled overhead for surveillance. As part of the plan, Task Unit Raider was to

stage its convoy and prepare to act on any rocket

launch. If no rocket attacks occurred during Operation Serpent Strike, the plan called for Raider and

Thunder to launch later on Objective Reform.24

The insurgents did not take the bait, so the two

task units executed raids as planned. Task Unit Raider

took one target set, Thunder the other. The Marine

convoy left after nightfall on 9 June and arrived at

the set point right after 2200. At the first of the three

target sites, the Marines took no detainees and found

no evidence of insurgent activity, so they proceeded

directly to the next site. The watchful AC-130 passed

information on activity there, and the Marines conducted a hard hit. They found scorch marks on the

ground at this location that were indicative of possible rocket launches. The task unit mounted up and

proceeded to the third objective, which also yielded

nothing.25 Major Kozeniesky, in his comments on the

operation, admitted that they had “little to show” for

the three hits of the night but pointed out that since

every one of the individuals the Marines interrogated

on site knew of rocket and mortar activity in the

vicinity, it tended to validate the general intelligence

picture and in no way deterred them from pursuing

these targets.26

Following the local operations, Task Raider turned

its attention again to high-value targets, striking at a

former official in the Ba’athist regime chemical program, now dubbed Objective Reflector. This man was

suspected of supplying explosives and chemicals to

insurgent networks, and signals intelligence indicated

that he was going to escape the country. Right before 0330 on 11 July, the assault force breached the

man’s house and entered it, finding it empty but very

recently occupied. Experts from other government

agencies brought along for the site exploitation found

one ton of chemicals and chemical lab equipment,

and they took several samples. “Technically and tactically, this was a superbly executed operation,”

wrote Major Kozeniesky. The disappointment at missing the target was balanced by a good haul of intelligence materials.27

Two days later, the task unit executed a raid on

Objective Run Down, a leader of both insurgent and

criminal activity. Second Battalion, 5th Special Forces,

provided the intelligence and again organized the

participation of the 36th Battalion, Iraqi National

Guard. The raid proceeded on schedule and without

incident. The force took the primary target as well as

two other males.

By the third week of July, Task Unit Raider had

conducted a total of 17 direct action raids. Most were

successes, some were “dry holes.” Some had been

undertaken on short notice, while others were long

70 DET ONE
Direct Action 71

planned. The Marines had hit former regime officials

and common criminals, insurgents and bomb makers. Det One Marines were operating not only at

Camp Myler but in the Green Zone and in Fallujah 

and served in key positions in the task group staff.*

While the bulk of the task group was dedicated to

the protective details, Task Units Raider and Thunder

remained the forces of choice for direct action.28

Colonel Coates and the Fallujah Brigade

Colonel Robert J. Coates, who had the most accurate view of the Fallujah Brigade’s operations

and therefore no reason to have inflated expectations, also took a long view of the venture.

Marines could crush the city in a matter of days—

they nearly did in April, and would finally do so

in November 2004—but he wanted to know if

there was a better way to fight the battle. Iraqis

needed to be pushed forward to solve Iraqi problems, and although their solutions might not be

perfect by American standards, they would be

Iraqi solutions.** But if the Iraqis could not come

to a solution and the Marines needed to apply

more forceful means, then every effort needed to

be expended to use the Iraqi unit to shape the

battlespace and contribute to victory. 29

The one task the Fallujah Brigade needed to be

able to do that it could not or would not do was

take on the hard-core elements like the foreign

fighters who made the insurgency immeasurably

worse. The I Marine Expeditionary Force ceased

support for its operations, namely in the form of

payments delivered by Colonel Coates, and the

Fallujah Brigade fell apart on 12 September. However, even as its parts melted away, then joined

or rejoined the insurgency, Lieutenant General

James T. Conway’s staff was exploiting the discord

it gradually had sown. And Colonel Coates was

working with another Iraqi unit that had been

formed, one that would prove to be a significantly

more effective fighting force.

This second organization, which became

known as the Shahwani Special Forces, grew out

of the same general initiative that produced the

Fallujah Brigade. It differed in that it was smaller

and was made up of a much higher quality of

Iraqi soldier than the jundi of the Fallujah

Brigade. It took its name from its leader, Major

General Mohammed Abdullah Mohammed alShahwani,* a figure with a long association with

the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) who had become head of Iraq’s National Intelligence Service.

He offered to form another unit of soldiers that

were loyal to him and would do that which the

Fallujah Brigade could or would not do.31

Colonel Coates was tasked with setting the Shahwanis up in a compound inside Camp Fallujah, supplying

them with arms and equipment, and communicating

Lieutenant General Conway’s orders and guidance. He

found General Shahwani and his men a refreshing

change from the Fallujah Brigade and recognized that

they would be able to accomplish a wide variety of tasks

in shaping the Fallujah battlespace.

The Shahwani operational units formed under Colonel

Khalis Ali Hussein, another professional and exceptionally capable officer.** Training progressed quickly, and the

units began to operate first with the Marines, and then independently of them in many cases. They took over

many duties from the Marines that they could do better,

such as manning vehicle checkpoints and screening civilians. As the time drew near when it was clear that a more

“kinetic” solution would be needed in Fallujah, the soldiers in the Shahwani Special Forces undertook several

operations inside the city doing what Colonel Coates offhandedly described as “different things,” meaning that

they were involved in some very sensitive, high-risk

shaping operations that contributed significantly to the

success of the operation in November 2004.

The initiative that produced both the Fallujah Brigade

and the Shahwani Special Forces was, in Colonel

Coates’s words, “an opportunity for those in there to

choose what side they wanted to be on.” The latter certainly chose more wisely than the former. Colonel Coates

* Shahwani, a Sunni, competed internationally as a decathlete in his

youth and was sent for U.S. Army Ranger training in the late 1960s.

He later headed the Iraqi Special Forces School and was a

brigadier general in command of a Republican Guard unit during

the first half of the Iran-Iraq War. His military success led Saddam

Hussein to perceive him as a threat, and by 1990, Shahwani had

fled to London. Shahwani was based in Jordan during the Gulf

War, collecting intelligence from his abundant sources, and with

CIA support, he tried to organize a military coup against Saddam

in 1996. The plot failed, and while Shahwani escaped, 85 of the

conspirators were executed, including his three sons. Shahwani

continued to work with the CIA on various plots to turn the Iraq

military against Hussein. After the invasion in 2003, he became director of the Iraqi National Intelligence Service. ** For their professionalism and steadfastness, the Shahwani officers

suffered immensely. Col Khalis’s family in Baghdad was kidnapped, but he remained loyal to the cause and stayed at his post,

and Khalis and his protective detail were killed in early 2005 by

terrorists in Baghdad. Col Coates called it “a statement to the effectiveness of his leadership and his Iraqi special forces.” Many

other Shahwani officers were also killed by the insurgents. Col

Coates email to author, 7 August 2006.

* During the week of 10 July, Maj Wade Priddy assumed the job of

task group operations officer after the SEAL officer in the post rotated home.

** Col Coates pointed out to the author that El Salvador’s civil war

brought to a close in much the same way as described.
was involved with both units every day until he departed

Iraq in October, was materially responsible for most of

their successes, and consequently for much of the success in the decisive action of that part of the campaign.*

Intel Marines after the Protective Detail

With the onset of the protective detail mission, Det

One’s far-flung intelligence element became somewhat less far-flung as the task group contracted and

consolidated. Master Sergeant Bret A. Hayes and

Gunnery Sergeant Matthew Ulmer came back to

Camp Myler, where they operated in general support

of the task group and were able to work more directly with Task Unit Raider. Most of the radio reconnaissance section was sent to Baghdad for direct

support of the SEALs. They occupied one floor of a

hotel, and from that perch, they were able to provide

timely and critical signals intelligence, employing

new equipment and developing different techniques,

tactics, and procedures. For example, Gunnery Sergeant James A. Crawford put together a significant

target package based on his own collection that was

passed up for execution by upper-tier units.31

The intelligence element performed other tasks in

and around Baghdad as well, sometimes in support

of conventional units. Gunnery Sergeant Crawford

and Staff Sergeant William B. Parker were involved in

a fierce day-long firefight on 12 August while attached to 1st Battalion, 9th U.S. Cavalry, seeking out

insurgents responsible for indirect fire attacks on the

Green Zone. They, along with two SEALs and a

squad of cavalrymen, were posted on top of a building on Haifa Street. Throughout that day, they provided intelligence to the commander of the Army unit

on the targets he was seeking. Later in the day, their

mission was to scan the area for an insurgent mortar

team, locate them, and take them out. The rest of the

company had departed, and the small combined

team was in a covert position. The mortarmen came,

fired, and left, close to them but unfortunately out of

sight, so they reported what they heard and remained

in place. They saw a roadside bomb emplaced and

subsequently detonated against an Army vehicle, but

they did not engage those who planted it because

they did not want to compromise their location.32

Their position was soon compromised for them,

however, when the street filled with masked gunmen,

massing for action and firing weapons in the air. They

observed a dozen men get out of two vehicles at the

base of their building and start to unload rocket propelled grenades and small arms. The SEALs, soldiers,

72 DET ONE

5.56mm M4 SOPMOD Rifle 7.62mm M14 Rifle

5.56mm M249 Light Machine Gun .45-caliber M1911 Pistol and Stryder Knife

Det One Weapons

Photos Courtesy of Det One

* Col Coates received the Bronze Star for his actions.
Direct Action 73

and Marines reasoned that this situation called for action, and they moved back to the roof, where they

dropped grenades on the gunmen and engaged them

with small-arms fire. They also called to alert the cavalry battalion’s quick reaction force. The Haifa Street

fight was on.33

Although his team had just engaged the gunmen

below, Gunnery Sergeant Crawford was not sure that

the enemy could pinpoint them, and so while he observed an enemy rocket team across the street, he

did not shoot but instead alerted the rest of the team

to its presence. Crawford quickly found out that the

enemy did know his position, as they started to receive heavy small arms fire. The team returned it in

kind. “Rounds were snapping over our heads at a

very rapid rate, and they practically had us pinned,”

he later wrote. When the gunmen paused to reload,

the Americans used the brief window of opportunity

to descend to a more defensible part of the building.34

A young boy, perhaps 10 years old, appeared on

the roof of the building next to them and threw a

grenade. Shouts of “grenade!” went up, and most of

the men were able to get out of the way, but one soldier was caught in the open and sustained severe injuries—one foot was severed and his legs had other

wounds. “The rate of fire we were receiving was

enormous,” Crawford noting, adding that he later

counted eight rocket-propelled grenade hits on just

one side of the building. Parker counted 14 hits in

all. Crawford called for an immediate extract.35

While the team treated its casualties and fortified

its position, “all hell broke loose” on the street below.

Smoke billowed up from the cars they had destroyed,

and automatic weapons fire continued to sweep the

position. The Marines, SEALs, and soldiers bounded

down to an apartment below the roof under mutual

covering fire and continued the fight. The incoming

fire continued, as heavy as before. It shattered a window and sprayed Parker with glass. The Americans

maintained a steady and accurate volume of fire

going out. Crawford later wrote that they had 30 confirmed kills during the fight.36

The quick reaction force took an hour to arrive,

but when it did, it was in force, with “Bradleys pouring out 25mm high explosive everywhere,” as Crawford recalled. The Marines, SEALs, and soldiers took

their wounded down to street level and loaded them

into the vehicles, which drove straight to the 31st

Corps Support Hospital. There they dropped off the

wounded and then prepared to return and reengage

the insurgents. Within an hour, Crawford and Parker

found themselves back on Haifa Street, while 1st Battalion, 9th Cavalry, systematically retook the area and

searched the buildings. The entire episode ran 20

hours. “By this time,” Crawford wrote, “we were all

smoked, no food, no rest, and hot as can be.” 37

The Haifa Street fight began with a radio reconnaissance mission and ended in a close-quarters fight,

where gunfighting skills and sheer physical endurance won the day. The Det One Marines had

again proved up to the task.

Staff Sergeant Daniel L. Williams of the counterintelligence section remained with the SEALs after Task

Unit North moved to Baghdad, and he found himself

working in the offices of the interim Iraqi president.

Operating quietly, in civilian clothes, he was known

simply as “Dan.” It was his job to vet all of the Iraqi

civilians working in the executive offices, questioning, screening, cataloging, indexing, and reporting.

His inquisitive mind and exceptional memory took

note of everything around him, and he patiently

sifted through it all. He devised a system of credentials and enforced the wearing of badges. Through

his efforts, he identified two immediate and potent

threats to the president: one, “a foreign national with

suspected ties to state-sponsored terrorism,” and the

other, “an individual with known anti-coalition ties.”38

Another counterintelligence Marine, Gunnery Sergeant William G. Parsons, shifted after the protective

detail from supporting Task Unit Central to more general human intelligence activities in the Green Zone.

He screened meeting attendees, did physical threat

assessments, and handled interpreters. In mid-July,

he was recalled by Major Jerry Carter and assigned as

the task force liaison to the intelligence agencies’

combined surveillance and reconnaissance section,

taking the place of an Army major. Parsons began coordinating requests from every special ops unit across

Iraq, as well as from some conventional units. He

stayed there, in a billet several levels above his pay

grade, until Task Unit Raider stood down and Det

One redeployed to Camp Pendleton.

An important part of intelligence support to the

task group was the operation of the detention and

interrogation facility. As the task group special activities officer, Captain Christopher B. Batts was responsible for handling detainees. Since he had few

Marines to assist him, it meant that he pitched in as

necessary to actually handle the detainees. Some

were compliant, while some were not. One in particular went through substance abuse detoxification

during his detention, flinging himself around his cell

and defecating uncontrollably. Batts and others had

to restrain him and then clean him up.39

The proper handling of detainees was crucial in
several respects. For one, humane and proper treatment of detainees is required by law and policy. For

another, interrogations of detainees were some of the

most productive feeds to the intelligence cycle. Maintaining the “shock of capture,” as it was called, and

getting a detainee to talk and give up information

without overstepping boundaries is an art, and Batts

and his Marines had the training to do it effectively.

Once they were plugged into other government

agencies and other task force units, they had the contacts to make sense of nearly everything detainees

told them, and they were able to forward the results

of their questioning to other interested parties. When

detainees were brought in, Batts was there to meet

them. They were checked for medical issues, given

food or water as needed, and then photographed,

fingerprinted, and questioned. Clever, effective, and

timely interrogations more than once provided the

primary actionable intelligence on key targets.40

The “One-Armed Bandit”

Two weeks of relative inactivity for Task Unit

Raider ended with two more operations on targets

close to home. These two raids, on Objectives Relapse and Roadster, struck at more local insurgents

who had been firing rockets into Camp Myler. The

sources were Iraqis who had been trained by Task

Unit Raider’s counterintelligence Marines.41 The primary source for Objective Relapse was an Iraqi developed and handled by Staff Sergeant Scott Beretz.

“He had excellent English, a very intelligent guy,”

said Beretz. The source began to bring in solid information on rocket launches, as well as promising

informants of his own. 

Beretz formed a plan, and he coordinated with

higher headquarters for permission to proceed with

it. He gave his source a vehicle and a global positioning system receiver. The source took one of the

informants he had brought in, and together they went

out and plotted three locations related to possible

rocket launches. A few days later, Beretz sent them

out again with a camera to photograph the locations.

Through these efforts, the identity of the man who

was behind the attacks finally surfaced. He would be

easy to pick out, the source said, as he only had one

arm; thus he became known as the “One-Armed Bandit.”42

The assault on Objective Relapse occurred at 0220

on 27 July. Task Unit Raider was assigned to hit two

targets: the “One-Armed Bandit” and his two-armed

associate, described as a welder who made rocket

launchers. Task Unit Thunder was assigned a third

74 DET ONE

AN/PVS-17 Weapon Night Sight AN/PVS-15 Binocular Night Sight

AN/PVS-14 Multipurpose Night Sight PEQ-2A IR Laser Pointer

Det One Night Vision Devices

Photos Courtesy of Det One
Direct Action 75

target. The unit that owned the battlespace was 2d

Battalion, 2d Marines, commanded by Lieutenant

Colonel J. Giles Kyser IV, the detachment’s “godfather.” The “Warlords” would provide the quick reaction force for the mission. The convoy, momentarily

delayed by traffic coming in and out of Baghdad airport, proceeded to the targets with the AC-130 overhead, reporting on activity in the area. As the assault

force reached the set point and dismounted, the gunship spotted two figures running from the one-armed

man’s residence. Marines from the containment teams

gave chase across the adjacent field, grabbed both

men, and dragged them back to the house. One was

missing a forearm.43

By the time the containment teams returned, the

assault teams had cleared the structure, and sensitive

site exploitation was in full swing. Staff Sergeant

Beretz was getting the customary evasions to his direct questions, but one of the young men under interrogation had a name that was related to that of the

man for whom they were searching. At that moment,

one of the assaulters uncovered a prosthetic arm,

then the containment teams brought in the onearmed runner. The source positively identified him,

and Beretz had his man.44

In addition to the “One-Armed Bandit,” the raid

turned up other damning evidence, including a detailed diagram of a main U.S. base and several military maps of Baghdad. On the search of the second

objective, the GROM members also netted their target, along with 10 improvised rocket launch tubes

complete with sights.45 The raid was a dramatic success, and Major Kozeniesky was able to assess that

“one of the active cells in the area has been decimated.”46i

Based on the intelligence gleaned from Relapse,

the task group then initiated a mission on Objective

Roadster, targeting the man who was supplying the

57mm rockets that the “One-Armed Bandit” was

shooting. Task Unit Thunder again took part, and

there was excellent close target reconnaissance done

by Army Special Forces and jundi from the 36th Iraqi

National Guard. Task Unit Raider brought along a

new source who had offered to identify the rocket

supplier.47

The assault on Objective Roadster proceeded in

the early hours of 5 August, with the assault teams

making a dismounted approach to the target’s house.

After the Iraqi source confirmed that the building was

the target’s house, the force breached, entered, and

cleared it, while other teams were assaulting another

structure. At this point, it was found that the residence was a more complex building than it appeared, and Major Kozeniesky ordered his Marines

to begin breaching and clearing the site until no room

was left untouched. Several men were detained, and

the source identified some as the target’s relatives.

The target himself was not there, and no items of significance were taken away.48

The general success of this series, despite the escape of Objective Roadster’s primary target, highlighted the exceptional work of Staff Sergeant Beretz

and validated Marine human intelligence abilities in

the special operations arena. Beretz was able to pay

his sources for their work and set them to further

tasks. The chief Iraqi source became, in Beretz’s

words, “self-sufficient” and began to venture out to

capture low-level targets on his own.49

Not only was Staff Sergeant Beretz having success

in developing sources to counter the local indirect

fire attacks, he was also becoming involved with

sources for a much higher profile target, codenamed

Rifle, a man who various organizations had been

hunting for months. The assault on Objective Rifle

grew into one of Task Unit Raider’s hallmark operations, and one of its key features was the human intelligence operation run by Staff Sergeant Beretz.50

Al-Kut

In August 2004, the Shi’a militias began to rise up

again in areas south of Baghdad, engaging in open

combat with Iraqi and Coalition forces. In al-Kut, an

important Shi’a center, gunmen were surging into the

city and the Iraqi police were under siege. In a compound immediately west of the city were stationed a

Ukrainian brigade and an Army Special Forces team,

with a Marine ANGLICO team attached, and a small

number of U.S. Army military police. The Ukrainians

were unable or unwilling to intervene. The Special

Forces, the ANGLICO Marines, and the military police

were left to stand with the Iraqis in an increasingly

difficult position, but they did not have the combat

power to engage the militiamen and still serve as advisors to the Iraqis. The loss of Al-Kut would have

been a severe blow to the interim Iraqi government

and would have given the Shi’a militants an important

victory. 

Task Unit Raider’s al-Kut operations begin on 11

August when the special operations task force sent

down an order for Marines to reinforce the Special

Forces team. The task unit staff did a quick mission

analysis and advised that the best course of action

would be to send a task-organized sub-detachment of

16 Marines, covering sniper, SIGINT, forward air control, and medical capabilities. Captain Eric Thompson was in command, and the senior enlisted Marine
was Master Sergeant Charles Padilla. Within 12 hours

of notification, that team, with two M113 hunekers

and supplies for 96 hours, was en route to al-Kut on

a pair of MC-130 aircraft.51

Upon arrival at the Special Forces team’s house,

the Marines received a brief on the situation. The battle was clearly still joined. On the roof of the house,

the Air Force enlisted tactical air controller attached

to the Special Forces team was working targets in the

city with the AC-130 overhead. The Special Forces

troopers extracted the governor of Al-Kut from the

city the next day—by small boat across the Tigris

River, as all other avenues were closed—to meet with

senior U.S. Army commanders. Det One Marines accompanied them to and from the landing site and got

a firsthand look at the aggressive tactics of the insurgents. The soldiers and Marines had to engage cars

that would not stop when commanded and posed

threats to the convoy. Master Sergeant Padilla and

Staff Sergeant Chad Baker disabled several cars with

the Barrett .50-caliber rifle and M240G machine gun.52

Padilla noted with approval that the Special Forces

were working with good, permissive rules of engagement and were not shy about using deadly

force.53 The situation in the city was assessed as very

serious, and the governor needed American help to

regain control.54

That evening, 12 August, the Marines established

two positions by the river to gain observation on the

city. Both had sniper teams; one post held Captain

Daniel Sheehan, and Sergeants David Marnell and

Miguel A. Cervantes to control the AC-130 when it

came on station, and the other post held three radio

reconnaissance Marines, Sergeants William S. Benedict, Jason Leighty, and Christopher E. Haug. Their

mission was to support the beleaguered Iraqi police,

still holding on in their fortified position in the city.

During the night, the two posts observed several firefights across the river but found it difficult to discern

if the shooters were Iraqi police or Shi’a gunmen. The

Marines were cleared to fire if the figures they saw

were attacking the police station. Staff Sergeant Baker

took one shot from his M40A3 sniper rifle at a target

of opportunity; the range was 750 meters. He saw the

shot strike home, but no one could determine the effects, and so it was logged as a probable kill.55 Fire

was going in both directions, with a steady volume of

rounds coming at them from across the river.

A friendly fire incident occurred that night when

fires from the AC-130 hit the Iraqi police station. A

member of the Special Forces team not located with

the Marines was controlling the AC-130 while Staff

Sergeant Baker observed another group of insurgents

moving into position against the Iraqi police. In an effort to get a precise location on them and then engage them, Captain Sheehan designated the spot

Baker identified with an infrared laser pointer and directed Sergeant Marnell to use the laser mark to produce the grid location. Unfortunately, the AC-130 saw

the laser mark and mistook it for a target designation

from the soldiers. The gunship fired, wounding several Iraqi police.56 The same fire also stopped the insurgent attack for the night. The Marines shut down

both posts and withdrew to the team house.

The heat at this time of the year was intense. The

Marines preferred operating at night as much because

it provided a small measure of relief from the heat.

They also had the tactical edge because of their night

vision equipment. They later noted, however, that

thermal sights were degraded even at night because

the ambient temperature was not much different from

a human’s temperature. Captain Sheehan remembered one day in al-Kut when the thermometer on

his watch read 137 degrees.57

The next day, the Coalition forces once again retrieved the governor, and he began planning with the

Special Forces leadership, the Marines, and the advance party of a U.S. Army Stryker battalion en route

to provide the conventional force. The governor reported that the previous two nights of AC-130 strikes

had turned the tide, and his forces were “90 percent”

in charge of the city, but that a nearby town for

which he was also responsible was still in the hands

of the insurgents.58 The group formed a plan to send

the Stryker battalion across the river to retake the city,

with the Special Forces team and the Marines occupying positions to support the assault. Operations in

the other town, al-Hayy, were deferred pending action in al-Kut.

That night, the combined units moved into their

positions. Four Marine snipers crossed the river with

eight members of the Special Forces team and four of

their ANGLICO Marines to occupy a clandestine position that gave them observation over much of the

city.* In place to cover them and to support the

76 DET ONE

* The river crossing provided a brief moment of excitement when

the engines on the Iraqi small boats cut out and the craft began to

drift downstream. MSgt Padilla could see the event turning into a

possible disaster; his first thought was that it was a set-up. He said

to himself: “How am I going to explain this to Maj Kozeniesky?

He’s not going to like this.” A special forces trooper broke the tension by quoting a line from a Snickers commercial: “Not going anywhere for a while?” Focused efforts restarted the engines and the

boats made their way back upstream to an otherwise uneventful

landing. SSgt Baker silently noted a lesson learned: “Marines need

to plan and organize any water operation.” Padilla intvw, 10Jan05

(MCHC); Baker intvw, 24Mar05 (MCHC).
Direct Action 77

Stryker assault later were eight Marines on the near

side of the river, including the fires team and the

radio reconnaissance team. 

Once the Marines were in position across the river,

Captain Sheehan began to prosecute targets. He directed the AC-130 onto one preplanned target, and

for the rest of the night he coordinated the big gunship and a pair of Army OH-58D Kiowa helicopters

as the Stryker units drove across the bridge into the

city. It was later reported that he “described the situation on the ground to the battalion fire support coordination center and de-conflicted fires between the

AC-130 and the friendly troop movements. The

Stryker battalion rolled through al-Kut with no shots

fired.” In the wake of the battalion’s movement, the

Marines at the fires and radio reconnaissance position crossed the river in vehicles to link up with their

fellow raiders and bring them out. The Marines then

retired to the Special Forces detachment’s compound.

When 15 August passed uneventfully, on the

morning of the 16th it was determined that no clear

requirement existed to keep the Det One Marines in

al-Kut for further operations, and the sub-detachment

returned to Camp Myler.59 The al-Kut operation was

a significant feather in the detachment’s cap. Good

mission analysis produced a balanced team to address an uncertain situation, and the resulting plan

was rapidly executed. The careful application of precision fires, supported by tactical signals intelligence

and effective command and control enabled the

Marines to support both the Army Special Forces detachment and the Stryker battalion. The Stryker battalion, in turn, backed up the Iraqis in retaking the

city. The al-Kut mission demonstrated that Det One

could be a supporting effort as effectively as it could

be a main effort, and that its conventional roots

served it well in larger operations.

“Dry Holes”

As the al-Kut sub-detachment was returning, Task

Unit Raider was executing a direct action raid on Objective Roulette, another combined operation with

Task Unit Thunder. The target of the raid was the

leader of a large cell in Mahmudiyah, a consistently

restive city south of Baghdad. The intelligence on the

target was drawn from a previous capture incarcerated in Abu Ghraib and from Marine counterintelligence teams operating in al-Anbar Province.

Mahmudiyah was in the territory of 2d Battalion, 2d

Marines, commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Giles

Kyser. The “Warlords” again gladly stood up their

quick reaction forces to support them and provided

detailed information on the routes into and out of the

target area.60

Intelligence sources had pegged two different

buildings as the target’s residence. When no clear determination could be made on which was the actual

residence, the decision was made to hit each one simultaneously. The mission launched at 0200 on 16

August. Task Unit Raider’s assault force numbered

fewer than usual since Captain Thompson’s al-Kut

Marines were not part of the force. The ability of the

support section Marines to step up and join the fight

was crucial in this operation. All the drivers and gunners in the convoy except one were from the headquarters and intelligence elements, and that one was

Hospital Corpsman First Class Matthew Pranka.

The approach to the target was difficult, due to a

rough road network, billowing clouds of dust, and

lack of natural illumination. The detailed route reconnaissance from Lieutenant Colonel Kyser’s battalion, however, enabled the convoy to get through to

the target. The Marine teams assaulted both structures

in their target set, while Polish special forces took

theirs down. Unfortunately, none of the individuals

targeted in the raids was present. Sensitive site exploitation did reveal information that confirmed that

the task force was correct to hit the sites, but the individual targets avoided capture. Major Kozeniesky 

concluded by noting that “egress back to Camp Myler

was uneventful. Mission was a dry hole.”*61

Three days later, Task Unit Raider executed a raid

on Objective Resistor, the target being a former

regime official running a large anti-Coaltion cell,

which was allegedly tied to terrorist mastermind Abu

Musab al-Zarqawi. This hit was synchronized with an

Iraqi special operations unit and Task Force 626, a

unit hunting the most important targets in Iraq. The

plan called for those two units to hit a pair of financiers associated with Task Unit Raider’s target; Raider

was the supporting effort. The intelligence for this

operation was derived from a 1st Cavalry Division report forwarded approximately one week before by

* One incident during the raid on Objective Roulette illustrated the

strange things that the Marines sometimes found during the

searches. The intelligence debrief from the raid noted matter-offactly that, “One (1) woman was discovered sleeping outside.” Actually, SSgt Zachary A. Reeves, one of the radio reconnaissance

Arabic speakers, discovered her by stepping on her. He called

MSgt Hays B. Harrington over, and asked him what they should

do. There was a blanket lying on the ground, and Reeves said that

there was an old woman underneath it. Harrington thought Reeves

was playing a joke on him—“wrong place and time for a joke”—

because he had searched that area and seen nothing. Harrington

he lifted up the blanket and there indeed was an old woman: “This

face is peering out at me, I mean, she is hideous-looking, has to

be at least a hundred and fifty years old... That was the scariest

thing I saw over there.” Harrington decided just to leave her alone.

Roulette operational summary; Harrington intvw, 13Jan05 (MCHC).
78 DET ONE

Major Carter to Gunnery Sergeant William Johnston in

Baghdad. Johnston spotted the indicators that tied the

Cavalry Division’s target set to the higher-level target

set and helped develop the combined, joint operation.

The target was a former Iraqi general and special

forces operative. “Documents taken during the capture of Saddam Hussein identified the high value target as a key leader in Saddam’s post-OIF I ‘shadow

government.’” Twenty-four hours before execution,

the intelligence apparatus came to believe that their

source in the target’s group had been murdered, and

they requested that Task Unit Raider hand off another

operation then in progress to the GROM and prepare

to execute Resistor on short notice. A new trigger for

the target’s presence was established by the officers

from Baghdad intelligence cells, and all three forces

planned to hit their targets simultaneously.62

In a convoy of six vehicles, with another slightly

depleted force—the al-Kut team was back in the mix,

but the first wave of Marines had gone to support operations in an-Najaf—Task Unit Raider moved out to

the objective at 0200 on 19 August. Dismounting at

the set point, the Marines assaulted the position on

foot. One woman and five youths were found on site;

the target of the raid was nowhere to be seen. Exploitation of the site yielded the target’s identification

card but little else. The major positive result of the

raid was the opportunity to synchronize operations

with the upper-tier Iraqi unit and Task Force 626.

Major Kozeniesky stated that he thought the execution of the raid was based on a premature trigger, but

he looked forward to getting another shot at the man

later. As on Objective Roulette before it, he concluded, “Egress back to Camp Myler was uneventful.

Mission was a dry hole.”63
79

An-Najaf: “A Full-On Fight”

While Captain Eric N. Thompson’s Det One subdetachment was in al-Kut, another, much larger fight

was breaking out in the city of an-Najaf, about 100

miles due south of Baghdad and home of the Imam

Ali Mosque. This was holy ground for all Shi’a, and

the stakes in this battle were even higher than at alKut. The malefactors were, again, the Shi’a militiamen following Muqtada al-Sadr. The al-Sadr militia

had fought the Coalition here before; in April 2004,

they had attacked Coalition forces but had been put

down after hard fighting by U.S. Army units. The 11th

Marine Expeditionary Unit (Special Operations Capable) was now responsible for the city and was being

pressed hard by the large numbers of militiamen.1

Multinational Force Iraq, the military high headquarters for the country, sent units to I Marine Expeditionary Force to reinforce 11th MEU (SOC); the

Combined Joint Special Operations Task Force-Arabian Peninsula was ordered to provide a contingent

under 1st Battalion, 5th Special forces Group, and

Task Unit Raider was instructed to provide sniper

support.

Nine Marines under Master Sergeant Terry M.

Wyrick—seven snipers (under Gunnery Sergeant

John A. Dailey), one fires Marine (Gunnery Sergeant

Ryan P. Keeler), and one Corpsman (Hospital Corpsman First Class Robert T. Bryan)—were selected to

go to Najaf. Wyrick initially reported to a SEAL officer, who was in overall command of the task group’s

personnel. Wyrick’s team got sniper weapons from

the returning al-Kut detachment and did a quick zeroing before departure. On 17 August, the Najaf subdetachment mounted up in two hunekers, fell into

an Army Special Forces convoy, and drove to Najaf.2

The 11th MEU (SOC) had been reinforced with 2d

Battalion, 7th U.S. Cavalry, and it was to that unit that

the task group’s element was sent. Immediately upon

arrival, the SEAL officer and Master Sergeant Wyrick

reported to the battalion commander and received an

update on the situation. The cavalrymen were inside

the city, occupying positions south and east of the

Imam Ali Mosque, which the enemy controlled and

were using as a base, having assumed that the Americans would neither fire into it nor assault it. Once

he was told that the special operations units were

there just to support him, the battalion commander

welcomed them with open arms. The SEAL officer

and Wyrick did a quick planning session with the

Army staff and came up with a workable plan to support their operations. By 0600 the next day (18 August), the Marines had a clear mission, an area of

operations, and a base from which to work. The 10

Marines were sent directly to the battalion’s Company

C, named Task Force Cougar, positioned close to the

Imam Ali Mosque—and in direct contact with the

enemy.3

The trip into the city was an education in the conditions of Najaf. “It was the wild, wild west,” remembered Master Sergeant Wyrick. “Rocket

propelled grenades and gunfire were constant, and

this was just on the outskirts of town.” While Wyrick

remained at the Task Force Cougar position to provide command and control, the rest of the force

under Gunnery Sergeant Dailey pushed in toward the

Imam Ali Mosque and occupied two observation

posts (OP 1 and OP 2) near Task Force Cougar’s forward platoons. While the Marines in these positions

received “accurate but ineffective small arms fire,”

they did not engage any targets. They used the time

to survey the area and gain a sense of the atmospherics, identifying key terrain and locating known

and suspected enemy positions. They pulled out

from these positions the next morning to prepare for

the next phase of the operation.4 Throughout the day

of 19 August, Wyrick and Dailey worked with Task

Force Cougar to devise a plan to support the unit’s

push north toward the Imam Ali shrine. When night

fell, the soldiers’ Bradley fighting vehicles took Dailey’s Marines to another location, where they established their third observation post (OP 3).

At first light the next day, 20 August, the al-Sadr

militiamen began to emerge from their positions. The

Marines were already at work: Gunnery Sergeant Dailey and Sergeant Michael C. Mulvihill were on the

roof of the structure, while the rest of the team was

constructing covered and concealed sniper hides on

the floors below. Dailey and Mulvihill began firing

but were soon forced off the roof by enemy fire. During the day, they scored four confirmed and six probable kills. Gunnery Sergeant Keeler worked aviation

support from every service, using his position’s exChapter 7

An-Najaf, “Z,” and Home
cellent fields of observation to find targets in and

around the Imam Ali Mosque complex. At one point

he had a laser spot on an enemy position inside the

exclusion zone around the shrine and Lockheed F-16

Fighting Falcons overhead, but he was not granted

permission to engage.

By the end of the day, the Marines’ operations had

already had an impact on the enemy. Reports began

to come in that the gunmen’s greatest fear was the

“American snipers.” Master Sergeant Wyrick said that

from the excellent source operations the Army special forces units was running inside the mosque complex, the word was that the snipers “were just

knocking the shit out of them, and morale was going

down the tubes. . . . The sources were telling the Special Forces that there were piles of bodies inside the

ring because of sniper shots.” The Marines’ own tally

of confirmed kills bore this out.5 As a result, a ceasefire was called, and the Marines withdrew from OP 3

back to the Task Force Cougar command post.

On 21 August, the snipers spent their time refitting and operating in the vicinity of the command

post, waiting for further orders as the cease-fire

played out. Apparently, not all the enemy was in

compliance, as Marine snipers engaged several gunmen attempting to infiltrate the Army unit’s position.

That night, more help arrived from Task Unit

Raider: Gunnery Sergeant Fidencio Villalobos Jr. to

handle the fires coordination, and Sergeant Jason V.

Brackley, the detachment’s radio technician, to help

man the radios. Master Sergeant Wyrick had seen that

he was not going to able to sustain operations as a

one-man show at the command post. He also knew

that he needed subject-matter expertise in fires. No

Marine was more suited to that particular task than

Villalobos, who, in addition to the special fires train80 DET ONE

SSgt Chadwick D. Baker mans a suppressed SR-25

7.62mm sniper rifle during the battle of an-Najaf in

August 2004. Spotting for him is HM1 Matthew S.

Pranka, and behind Pranka is SSgt Jack A. Kelly.

Watching from the door are Sgts Miguel A. Cervantes

and David D. Marnell. Although not apparent from

this view, this sniper hide is covered and concealed,

allowing the Marines to wear only soft body armor in

the extreme heat. Det One snipers, firing from hides

like this one and using the suppressed SR-25, slew

dozens of Shi’a gunmen during the battle.

Photo courtesy of Capt Daniel B. Sheehan
An-Najaf, “Z,” and Home 81

ing he had by virtue of his service in ANGLICO and

Det One, was fully capable of conventional fire support coordination at and above the regimental level.

He began working with the company staff, Gunnery

Sergeant Keeler, and Master Sergeant Wyrick to develop target lists and a comprehensive plan to shape

the battlespace and support the company’s scheme of

maneuver.6

The shaky cease-fire soon collapsed, and during

the afternoon of 22 August, the snipers left the command post and went forward again to occupy a new

position, called OP 4. Gunnery Sergeant Keeler

moved back to OP 1 and began sending target intelligence back to Villalobos, who submitted nine preplanned targets. That night, four of the nine targets

were engaged by the AC-130 under Keeler’s direction; one resulted in a secondary explosion, indicating that a quantity of munitions had been stored

there. While these shaping operations were underway, Master Sergeant Wyrick attended a conference

at the Army battalion command post to plan for the

next phase of the assault into the city.7

Sergeant David D. Marnell from the fires element

also arrived to reinforce Gunnery Sergeant Keeler,

who, like Master Sergeant Wyrick, had been a oneman show in an indispensable job. While Keeler and

Marnell were prosecuting the target list, they also

looked for targets of opportunity. One such target

presented itself at about 0120 on 23 August when

Keeler observed enemy forces moving to attack Task

Force Cougar positions. He directed the AC-130, with

its superb surveillance capabilities, to relay information on the enemy, which he then passed to the

Cougar commander. Once he had all stations fully

appraised of the situation and the soldiers had broken contact, Keeler asked permission to engage.

When he received word that the AC-130 was clear to

hit the gunmen, he passed the approval to the plane’s

crew. His efforts were rewarded with a precisely delivered strike that killed five militiamen in the open

and destroyed four buildings where the attacks had

been massing. Four secondary explosions resulted.8

The work of Gunnery Sergeant Villalobos in the

task force command post, particularly his skill at coordinating and deconflicting the fires, was as critical

to success as Keeler and Marnell’s presence and abilities on the frontlines. It became apparent that Villalobos could be even more effective in the battalion

command post, and so he moved there. At the cavalry battalion headquarters, he virtually took over the

fire support coordination duties for the unit, which

did not have an air officer or terminal attack controllers other than Keeler and Marnell.

Villalobos, who knew fire support coordination

measures and procedures intimately, began systematically planning to support the battalion commander’s scheme of maneuver. When aircraft checked in

on station, he wanted to be able to push them to

Keeler and Marnell with preplanned and preapproved targets so no opportunities would be wasted

while securing permission to engage. Sergeant Brackley made sure that Villalobos had uninterrupted communications, more than once exposing himself to

enemy fire when setting up or adjusting antennas.

When Master Sergeant Wyrick arrived at the battalion command post for meetings, he frequently found

Villalobos both coordinating fire support and conducting ad-hoc classes, with the staff clustered

around the radios listening to the AC-130 engage targets while “Big Daddy” provided the play-by-play

commentary.9*

Dailey’s snipers remained in OP 4 throughout

most of 23 August, slipping out at 2130 when Task

Force Cougar pushed north to get closer to the

mosque complex. The enemy contested the move,

and the soldiers took three casualties. Hospital Corpsman First Class Bryan assisted in their treatment and

evacuation. As a result of the attack, Dailey’s team

occupied a fifth position, OP 5, and spent the rest of

the night observing enemy activity, passing reports

back to Master Sergeant Wyrick, and engaging targets

with the AC-130. The Marines located one mortar position, which the gunship destroyed, resulting in four

more confirmed kills.10

During this period, Gunnery Sergeant Dailey’s

snipers also located and eliminated an enemy sniper.

Gunnery Sergeant Travis W. Clark was the first to spot

an unseen hand slowly and carefully removing

blocks from a wall to open up a firing port. Dailey directed Keeler to call an air strike on the position, but

higher headquarters denied the request because of

its proximity to the mosque. Instead, he called for

Staff Sergeant D. T. Krueger to lay his .50-caliber Barrett rifle on the target, and then—operating under the

unassailable logic that if one .50-caliber rifle was

good, two would surely be better—he asked an Army

sniper team to bring its Barrett over as well. When

Dailey saw the hand remove the brick “one last time,”

the snipers hit the site with both weapons, each gun-

* For both Wyrick and Villalobos, the realities of being one deep

in their positions meant long days and nights and very little sleep.

Even after Villalobos and Brackley arrived to assist, Wyrick still

found himself worn out. He would try to arrive for meetings 20

minutes early so he could crawl under the conference table and

get a brief nap, which might be the only sleep he would get that

day. Villalobos said that the mission in Najaf was “one big long

Ranger episode—no sleep.” 
ner emptying several rounds into the wall. Where a

loophole had been, there was now a hole “you could

drive a truck through.” It was impossible to assess

the results of their fire with certainty, but the Marines

felt confident that they had eliminated their adversary.11

Gunnery Sergeant Keeler also described the incident and its aftermath. “This,” he explained, “did two

things: A) anyone who was in that room was dead;

and B) it pissed people off, because we took probably another 45 minutes of nothing but mortar rounds

on top of the building. So we all dropped down to

the center hall and weathered it out.” Before they

reached the inner core of the building, they had some

close calls. Gunnery Sergeant Clark had left his uniform blouse in a room that faced onto an open shaft.

A mortar round landed right in the shaft seconds after

he left the room. The blouse was shredded, and Clark

would have been had he not left when he did.12

Although most of the militia tactics were assessed

as “basic and crude,” there was evidence from incidents such as the sniper episode to indicate that at

least some of al-Sadr’s men had advanced training

and good equipment, displaying “an elevated level

of weapons proficiency.” But most were just armed

males of various ages, generally clad in black and

wearing green headbands. They used women and

children to screen their movements or to scout the

Coalition positions when it suited them, and they

even rigged rocket launchers on donkey carts. They

preferred to operate during the daytime and seemed

to yield the night to the soldiers and Marines.* Within

the walls of the shrine complex, they carried

weapons and munitions openly, at least until Det

One snipers and forward air controllers worked their

way into positions and began to put an end to the

practice.13

The stars of the show, in terms of individual

weapons, were the .50-caliber Barrett and the

7.62mm SR-25. The Barrett rifle had the range to hit

any target the Marines could see and the strength to

punch through masonry walls. The relatively close

confines of Najaf meant that the Marines could not

employ the rifle at its greatest ranges, so the bulk of

the work on open targets was done with the SR-25.

This rifle had everything that the Najaf Marines

needed: semi-automatic action, range, accuracy, compatibility with a variety of optics, and most important

of all, sound suppression. In a properly constructed

urban sniper hide, a Marine with a suppressed SR-25

could engage multiple targets in quick succession

without giving away the position. More than once,

the Marines struck down gunmen and then watched

as others frantically scanned the area for the origin of

the fire.14

By 24 August, the initial sub-detachment had been

in action in Najaf for a full week. Recognizing that

fresh troops were needed if they were to maintain

the high op-tempo, Master Sergeant Wyrick requested

that Task Unit Raider dispatch a relief force. Accordingly, eight more snipers and two fires Marines were

sent by air, arriving at OP 5 in the early afternoon.

Captain Daniel B. Sheehan III came as forward air

controller with Sergeant Miguel A. Cervantes to assist

him. Master Sergeant Padilla was in charge of the

snipers. Wyrick remained on station as the command

and control element, and Gunnery Sergeant Villalobos continued to run the fire support coordination at

the battalion command post.15

Gunnery Sergeant Dailey’s original squad remained in place to allow Padilla’s Marines to familiarize themselves with the situation. As 24 August

proved to be one of the busiest days in Najaf, the

new Marines got a taste of what the others had been

living with for seven days. “Once we hit that building,” said Staff Sergeant Chadwick D. Baker of their

arrival at OP 5, “there was a full-on fight going on. .

. . You ran in and threw your stuff off and crawled

around avoiding all the windows.” The relief force

got to work. Baker was engaging targets within an

hour noting that “once we got in, we set up our positions and started shooting people.” The rules of engagement were clear, as Master Sergeant Wyrick had

briefed the new arrivals. The Marines had identified

several locations they suspected of being arms

caches, and they were clear to shoot any armed military-aged males going in or out of those places. They

were in their element. Padilla remarked that direct-action raids were one thing, “but I don’t think there’s

anything like sniping.”16

The Marines took fire throughout that day, from

small arms, rocket propelled grenades, and enemy

marksmen. Captain Sheehan and Sergeant Cervantes

joined Sergeant Marnell and Gunnery Sergeant

Keeler; together they brought fire on several targets,

including one mission with the cavalry battalion’s

120mm mortars. They conducted missions with whatever aircraft checked on station from Army, Air Force,

or Marine aviation. In one incident, Keeler was controlling a section of Army Apaches when one of the

aircraft experienced a weapons malfunction that put

82 DET ONE

* Marines also noted the probable presence of non-Iraqis in the

enemy forces, including one “fair complexion male with blond

hair,” and others whose descriptions matched intelligence reports

on Iranian agents and Hezbollah members. Najaf debrief, 27 Aug

2004.
An-Najaf, “Z,” and Home 83

a burst of 30mm cannon fire onto the Marines’ position. Dust and concrete and metal fragments flew

everywhere, and the Marines dove for cover. The pilots came up immediately on the radio to make sure

there were no casualties. There were none, but the

close call had knocked the wind out of a few of the

Marines. The combined force of snipers and fires

Marines that day scored another three confirmed and

eight probable kills. Later that night, under the protective overwatch and firepower of Task Force

Cougar’s armored vehicles, they moved forward to

another location, but they withdrew to OP 5 when

they found the new position unsuitable.17

The Task Unit Raider Marines remained heavily

engaged on 25 August. Master Sergeant Dailey and

his Marines completed the turnover to the relief force

and prepared to withdraw to the battalion command

post for the trip back to Camp Myler. Before they departed, they took care of one last task, as Dailey’s

snipers had identified another enemy sniper nest.

This time it was Staff Sergeant Alex N. Conrad who

spotted the signs of the enemy marksman. Something

he saw looked out of place; as he looked closer, he

recognized the loopholes. Then he observed a figure

dressed in black with a green headband, and he saw

that militiaman poke a gun barrel out of one hole and

fire. Conrad withdrew farther into the building in case

the enemy marksman had seen him. Setting up a new

position slightly offset from where he had just been,

he trained the .50-caliber rifle on the loophole and

waited for movement. Master Sergeant Dailey took

up the binoculars and spotted for him. After 40 minutes, their patience was rewarded. When Conrad saw

the militiaman start to plug up the hole, he fired

through it. Then he put three more rounds into the

wall around it and several more rounds into another

part of the structure in case the man had somehow

escaped the four heavy rounds delivered in rapid

succession. Confirmation of the kill proved impossible, but this enemy sniper was not heard from

again.18

Master Sergeant Padilla’s Marines kept the pressure on the enemy. Aside from the few and the proud

among the enemy who had some training, Padilla

thought they were “just a bunch of idiots” who virtually lined up to be shot. “We would take one guy

out, and the next minute another guy was in the

same spot trying to figure out what was happening.”

Even after the first wave departed, the Det One

Marines still had sufficient manpower to keep a fresh

sniper on a weapon at all times and man several positions 24 hours a day. Staring through optics, especially at night, is fatiguing, and the Marines needed to

rotate regularly. The brutal heat also sapped strength

and energy, and staying hydrated took constant effort. As Gunnery Sergeant Jack A. Kelly noted, “You

sweated all day long, all night long. You slept and

you sweated the whole time. You couldn’t drink

enough water.” They got so filthy that Padilla could

not remember having smelled that bad since Ranger

school, years prior. Fortunately, they also had the soldiers of Task Force Cougar supporting them with logistics as well as security, so they did not have to be

too concerned with their own maintenance and defense and could concentrate on the enemy. The ability to keep going and man their weapons was a

critical element to their success. As Staff Sergeant

Baker observed, “that’s what killed the bad guys: they

never got a break.”19

The building where the Det One Marines had established their observation post 5 was a solidly built

schoolhouse, which provided them plenty of room

to operate and afforded protection against enemy

fire, which was continuous and sometimes heavy. “It

was a three-story building,” said Gunnery Sergeant

Kelly, “which allowed us multiple decks to observe

from and shoot from. It got us about as close as we

could possibly get to the shrine at the time without

exposing ourselves completely, and we were able to

observe and report on a lot of different activities.”

The snipers could use the lower decks while the fires

Marines could get up high for better observation.

Three Marines (left to right: Sgt David D. Marnell,

Capt Daniel B. Sheehan, and Sgt Miguel A. Cervantes)

are shown in a Najaf schoolhouse, known as OP 5.

With GySgt Ryan P. Keeler, they brought heavy but

precise fires down on the Shi’a militiamen in and

around the Imam Ali Mosque.

Photo courtesy of Capt Daniel B. Sheehan
That the Marines were in the building was never a

secret, and the enemy certainly wanted to eliminate

them. But the Marines’ urban sniper tactics kept the

individual hides concealed and covered, and they

were able to operate without interference. The

snipers engaged targets and reported back constantly,

sending information to Task Force Cougar and the

battalion headquarters to flesh out the operational

picture and feed the targeting cycle.20

Captain Sheehan, Sergeant Marnell, and Sergeant

Cervantes continued to rain fire down on the enemy,

manning Keeler’s post at OP 5 that gave them excellent views of the battlespace. They settled into a battle rhythm based on the enemy’s actions and the

assets they had available. “The AC-130 would check

on station at about 2220,” Sheehan said. “We’d run

the AC-130 all through the night on targets of opportunity as they would pop up. Then about three or

four in the morning, the AC would check off station

and we’d get our heads down for a little bit.” He

noted that “generally, the fighting was pretty quiet at

night, at least in the dead hours, and then right

around sunrise it would kick back off again. You’d

hear the call to prayer—we were definitely within

audio range of the mosque—so we got all the calls to

prayer throughout the day. In that mosque they were

using the loudspeakers to rally the troops, and as

command and control for the fighters in there.”

Throughout the day, the Marines would control the

sections of aircraft that were pushed to them by Gunnery Sergeant Villalobos, mostly Army Apaches and

Marine Cobras. As night fell, the big Air Force gunship would reappear, and the cycle would begin

again. During the night of 25 August, the Marines

maintained observation of the area, engaged targets,

and controlled preparatory fires for the long-planned

ground assault on the Imam Ali shrine.21

The ground assault on the mosque never happened. Coalition operations in and around the city

had had their intended effect on the noxious al-Sadr,

and he was forced into negotiations with the interim

Iraqi government by the reclusive but venerated chief

Shi’a cleric in Iraq, Ayatollah Sayyid Ali Husseini alSistani. The Iraqi government announced at 0200 on

27 August that a truce had been reached and that

hostilities would officially end at 1000.22

The stunned Det One Marines, only a few hundred meters from the shrine, reported large numbers

of Shi’a gunmen “coming out of the woodwork,”

moving about openly with arms and ammunition, but

the now-strict rules of engagement prevented the

Marines from firing. For the aggressive Marines, holding their fire was hardest part of the operation; in fact,

they had just shot a man right before the cease-fire

went into effect. They figured that the gunmen were

just resting and refitting for the next action in Najaf or

elsewhere. The discipline and maturity of the Marines

ensured that the cease-fire would not be broken from

within their ranks. If they were prohibited from firing,

they could still observe, and they duly reported

everything they saw in case the negotiations broke

down and Coalition forces had to assault the militia’s

stronghold.23

Despite expectations to the contrary, the cease-fire

did hold up, and the negotiations eventually resulted

in al-Sadr and his forces withdrawing from the city.

Although reports stated that the gunmen had sustained thousands of casualties in and around the city,

the humiliating withdrawal was even more of a reverse for them than the battlefield defeat. More importantly, the authority of the interim Iraqi

government had been enforced and upheld. Najaf

was no Fallujah stalemate; the Coalition had won,

and the insurgents had lost. On 27 August, Det One

Marines pulled back to the cavalry battalion command post and waited for further instructions. The

next day, they moved to another base in preparation

for the trip home to Camp Myler, but they were told

to hold there for 24 hours, just in case they were

84 DET ONE

Photo courtesy of Capt Daniel B. Sheehan

Capt Daniel B. Sheehan at his post in OP-5 in Najaf,

August 2004. From this position he and the other fires

Marines had excellent field of fire and observation on

areas the Shi’a gunmen had previously enjoyed freedom of movement. The map and aerial photo taped to

the railing was used for target identification.
An-Najaf, “Z,” and Home 85

needed again. Finally, on 30 August they were released from further service in Najaf and traveled back

to Baghdad by humvee and helicopter.

The actions of the Det One Marines during the battle of Najaf have no parallel in any other battle of Operation Iraqi Freedom. In a situation that called for a

special operations force to completely integrate with

a conventional unit as a supporting effort, Task Unit

Raider’s Marines shone brilliantly. The central theme

was mutual support: Task Force Cougar soldiers provided security and support for the Marines, who in

turn supported them, and more importantly, shaped

the battlespace for their scheme of maneuver. Task

Force Cougar led the 2d Battalion, 7th Cavalry, and

that famous battalion led the fight inside the city. Together they were responsible for constraining the

enemy’s freedom of movement in the Imam Ali

Mosque and contributing significantly to a major

Coalition victory.

Det One Marines bridged the gap between “conventional” and “special” because they were regular

Marines, grounded in conventional operations but organized and intensively trained for special operations.

It is important to note that except for Captain Sheehan, the teams were led by staff noncommissioned

officers. The senior Marines did the liaison work with

higher headquarters, led the snipers, and made all of

the decisions on the ground. Major Craig S. Kozeniesky wrote that “one distinct advantage MCSOCom

Det One personnel have over all SOF counterparts is

their ability to coordinate and anticipate conventional

force requirements and support.” He stressed that

more detachment capabilities could have been employed there if they had been requested.* Master Sergeant Wyrick agreed, noting that he wished they had

had some counterintelligence and radio reconnaissance Marines to throw into the fight, and pointing

out that the whole detachment could have been gainfully employed in the battle. Nothing in Najaf proved

Det One Marines prepare to depart Najaf after the conclusion of operations there; SSgt Chadwick D. Baker

mans an 50-caliber M2 machine gun while Capt

Daniel B. Sheehan mans an 7.62mm M240G machine

gun. This humvee is one of the purpose-built ground

mobility vehicles transferred from the SEALs to the

Marines when Task Unit Raider was reconstituted as a

direct action force.

* The after action report from the Naval Special Warfare element

also alludes to Det One’s capabilities in a conventional environment. The report, while not explicitly mentioning the Marines,

stated, “The conventional forces are significantly more mindful of

the military rank structure compared to SOF.” No similar reference

can be found in Det One after action reports. NSW AAR, 1 Sept

2004.

Photo courtesy of Capt Daniel B. Sheehan
beyond the capabilities of the Marines of Det One.

Targeting “Z”

While a large number of Marines were involved in

operations in Najaf, preparations back in Baghdad

were well underway to execute the boldest and most

daring operation Task Units Raider and Thunder had

yet undertaken. Objective Rifle targeted “Z,” a notorious insurgent commander, involved in scores of assassinations, bombings and indirect fire attacks. He

was much like the insurgent “X,” except that he was

more violent, more cunning, and even harder to

catch. As he did on the hunt for that first major target, Major M. Gerald Carter turned the entire resources of the intelligence element to catching “Z.”24

Carter knew of “Z” as early as the first month of

the deployment, when he was making contacts with

every agency in Baghdad to get targeting intelligence.

Over the course of the operation, the intelligence element kept alert for any sign on “Z,” but nothing of

significance turned up until early August, when solid

information finally came to its attention.25

Captain Christopher B. Batts’s counterintelligence

Marines were given control of a source close to “Z.”

That source brought in new information that pointed

to the man, and the hunt was back on. Through their

own initiative, they developed another source they

called “The Kid.” Initially, only Captain Batts and

Gunnery Sergeant William G. Parsons had met with

the original source, but as the operation progressed,

they brought in Staff Sergeant Scott J. Beretz. He

began to feed “The Kid” information for their quarry,

setting him up as an insurgent from another part of

Iraq interested in buying weapons and bombs. “Z”

took the bait.26

Due to the man’s excellent operational security

and tradecraft, he had never presented a clear

enough picture to allow the task group to fix him and

hit him. He moved constantly, had several houses,

and never let anyone in on his plans. It became apparent that “Z” had not grown lax in his operational

skills, and he did not present a target that was conducive to normal methods of operations. Through the

work of the sources, however, it looked possible to

lure him into a predetermined location in Baghdad

where the assault force could descend upon him. But

there was a catch: the location would be a crowded

restaurant, at noon, deep inside the city, surrounded

by traffic and crowds. There could be no fast convoy, no silent foot approach, and no AC-130 overhead. If shots were fired on this objective, it would

not be a single burst but in all probability a major engagement with civilian casualties.27

The situation called for a far more ambitious plan

than any the Marines had attempted before, and they

were ready for the challenge. By the end of August,

with a score of direct action hits under their belts, a

stalwart force of Polish operators alongside them, and

a relentless intelligence machine to pave the way,

Task Unit Raider was on top of its game, and Major

Kozeniesky argued persuasively for the chance to do

the hit. Commander William W. Wilson approved the

general concept and instructed them to proceed.

For the assault on Objective Rifle, almost none of

the usual advantages were present, so the Marines

and the men of Task Unit Thunder had to devise

other means of stacking the deck in their favor. They

needed to have some reasonable expectation that

“The Kid” could deliver and could effectively trigger

the assault. They needed to have a base of operations closer to the target area, since Camp Myler was

too far away to launch a daytime convoy through

congested streets. They needed air cover to replace

the AC-130, which only operated at night, but which

would also not seem out of place overhead at that

time of day. And they needed an assault plan that

was synchronized tightly enough to get the job done

in a compressed time window but still allowed for

flexibility as the situation dictated.

Staff Sergeant Beretz arranged through sources for

“Z” to meet their source at a restaurant in one of

Baghdad’s better districts. The young man would

pose as an up-and-coming anti-Coalition figure interested in buying weapons from “Z.” He was given

a cell phone to send text messages to the task force

and a series of code phrases to transmit.28 The trap

was almost set.

The planners chose an American base close to the

restaurant where units Raider and Thunder could

wait for the trigger. The composition of the convoy

needed to be addressed. Driving out of the gates at

high speed in assault vehicles would alert the everwatchful insurgency, and the planners had enough

respect for the target’s abilities to know that he would

have surveillance out. They decided to use indigenous vehicles such as vans and panel trucks borrowed from the Special Forces, as well as some

assault vehicles, trading the protection of the military

vehicles for the anonymity of the Iraqi trucks. Up

front would be dark-skinned Marines in native garb.

Overhead would be Army OH-58D Kiowa helicopters, which had excellent surveillance equipment, carried weapons, and were usual sights in the skies over

Baghdad. Task Unit Raider would handle the assault;

Thunder would provide containment and backup

force. Every man in each force who could possibly be

spared was put on the raid force; with a dozen men

86 DET ONE
An-Najaf, “Z,” and Home 87

still in Najaf, the support section Marines again

stepped up to fill gunfighting roles.29

On 30 August, the pieces for the operation were

complete and the assault forces staged, with Task

Unit Raider mounted in four hunekers and three indigenous vehicles. In the cab of the lead Iraqi truck

wearing a robe, a dish-dash, was Staff Sergeant Glen

S. Cederholm, who had grown as much of a beard as

he could after the return from Najaf. (Ironically, he

and others had long advocated that some Marines

should maintain facial hair for just such a contingency. He had a fairly good beard after a week in

Najaf but had shaved it off before his return to Camp

Myler.) The meeting was set for any time between

1100 and 1600. At 1132, the OH-58Ds checked on

station and began to watch the target area. A quick

reaction force from 3d Battalion, 82d Field Artillery,

quietly prepared to go. “The Kid” sent a message to

say that he was en route to the meeting.30

Shortly afterward, the message came from the

source that “Z” was on site. Task Units Raider and

Thunder left the gates and moved toward the objective. The approach was far more difficult than any

they had previously undertaken. Traffic was heavy,

the vehicles experienced communications blackouts,

and at one point, an Iraqi male was seen watching

the convoy and talking on a cell phone. The Marines

were certain he was tipping off someone.

In the lead vehicle, the bearded Staff Sergeant

Cederholm in his dish-dash navigated the force on its

route. His disguise worked, and he never got a second look from any bystander. At one point, his computerized navigation system seized up because of the

excessive heat, and it was only his excellent memory

of the route that kept the force on schedule while the

system reset. All during the approach, Master Sergeant Keith E. Oakes kept thinking that they would

get compromised, but he knew that with his Marines

ready for action and Task Unit Thunder alongside, “it

would have been a wicked fight,” but a fight they

definitely would have won.31

The units did manage to avoid detection, though,

and they soon were on the target site. The indigenous vehicles pulled up to the site, and the assault

teams dismounted and ran toward the site while

other teams from Raider and Thunder took up blocking positions. Staff Sergeant Cederholm jumped out,

ripped off his “man dress,” and took up a position in

the cordon. With complete surprise, Teams 2 and 5

burst into the building just seconds after they exited

the vehicles, with Captain Eric N. Thompson and Staff

Sergeant Beretz carrying photographs of the targets.

“These guys were just sitting at a table, drinking tea,”

Thompson recalled. None of the targets put up a

fight; they never had a chance. The Marines seized

several men, flexicuffed and blindfolded them, and

took them outside individually to load them into different vehicles. The source was able to covertly identify “Z.” No shots were fired, and no one attempted

to interfere. The entire force remounted and returned

to Camp Myler.32

Major Kozeniesky trumpeted this operation, with

good reason, as a hallmark for the detachment as a

whole.* He praised all involved, especially Task Unit

Thunder, which selflessly joined the high-risk mission

as a supporting element. The capture of “Z” was a

real triumph, as he was an important insurgent figure

in central Iraq, not just Baghdad. The operation illustrated the depth of the unit’s capabilities and its

willingness to alter its tactics, techniques, and procedures and accept a higher level of risk to take down

a higher-level target. The preparation for it highlighted the ability of the counterintelligence section to

operate at the special operations level with or without a designation, and it was Det One’s own human

intelligence Marines who placed and ran the source

that gave them the trigger. Staff Sergeant Alex N. Conrad called it “the most exhilarating hit of them all.”33

After Objective Rifle, the Task Unit executed a raid

on Objective Ruby on 15 September. The target was

a significant figure—a former Iraqi general, a cousin

of Saddam Hussein, and a numbered figure on the

famous Coalition blacklist. He was wanted for suppressing the post-Gulf War Shi’a uprising and for running major insurgent operations. Several incidents

occurred during the execution of Ruby. A vehicle

trailing the convoy had to be stopped by warning

shots. The breach proved difficult, as a heavy metal

grate prevented easy placement of the charge, but

the lead breacher, Hospital Corpsman First Class

Michael Tyrell, fully recovered from his gunshot

wound in Objective Ricochet, quickly worked the

charge onto the door. During the search of the house,

Gunnery Sergeant Andre K. Bosier of Team 2 discovered what appeared to be a circuit board taped to

a frying pan, which he immediately recognized as a

bomb. He called the explosive ordnance disposal

teams, which immediately cleared the building. When

the device began emitting sounds, they destroyed it.34

The main house was a “dry hole,” and Major Koze-

* Ironically, this operation, as risky as it was, was something that

all of the reconnaissance Marines had practiced during work-ups

for MEU (SOC) deployments, but never thought they would have

a chance to execute. Part of the standard MEU (SOC) training package was the execution of a direct action raid in indigenous vehicles. Capt Thompson called the raid on Objective Rifle “MSPF 101.” 
niesky directed that the assault teams breach an adjacent structure. Team 5 accessed the roof of the

building, breached, and entered it. It too yielded

nothing. Interrogation of detainees found there indicated that the target lived there once but had not

been seen for some time. Meanwhile, outside the

house a commotion arose. There was an explosion

some distance to the east, the nature of which was

never discovered. The containment teams fired warning shots at two vehicles approaching the site, and

as the force was re-embarking, an unknown person

fired a burst from some weapon. None of the rounds

hit the Marines, and no fire was returned. The raid

force returned, intact but empty-handed, to Camp

Myler. Objective Ruby was the last direct action raid

mounted by Task Unit Raider. 35

Departing Iraq

Immediately following the execution of Objective

Ruby, Task Unit Raider stood down as a direct action

force, and the Marines of Det One began to reassemble in Baghdad. Squadron One was turning over with

its relief, and those Marines who were either in direct

or general support to the task group briefed their replacements. Task Unit Raider had no replacement,

there being no “Det Two” following in trace, and the

main task they had was to return the assault vehicles

they had received in June. The Marines concerned

themselves with packing up for the trip home, documenting the lessons learned from this landmark deployment, and planning for an uncertain future.

Much nonessential gear had been shipped home

over the course of the summer, and the only substantial additions to the movement plan were an

abandoned humvee that Gunnery Sergeants Jaime

Maldonado and Jaime J. Sierra had recovered, rebuilt,

and added to the detachment’s table of equipment,

and a small dog that Gunnery Sergeant Villalobos had

adopted. The advance party flew home in mid-September. The first planeload of the main body departed on 27 September, and the last on 1 October.

All Marines, save one, were back at Camp Pendleton,

California, by 2 October.36

The one remaining Marine, Captain Stephen V. Fiscus, stayed behind in Baghdad to finish a job in

progress. He had been asked to remain at his post

with Task Unit Thunder in order to take part in a final

operation west of Baghdad.37 The target for this operation was a cell of major insurgent figures. Originally, the operation belonged to an Iraqi unit, but

subsequent planning revealed that the target set was

too large for this one unit to hit, and through the task

group’s liaison in the Green Zone, Task Unit Thunder

was asked to join the effort. Captain Fiscus, in his

role as liaison officer and planner for Thunder, saw

that the operation would also require coordination

with an Army brigade, in whose area it would occur.

Fiscus arranged to meet with the brigade commander

and his staff and was pleased to find that they were

fully on board and offered full support. Fiscus noted

that the brigade commander “was a former Special

Forces guy, and he understood the deal completely.”

In fact, Fiscus remembered that when the general

saw the target packages, “he stopped what he was

doing, looked at me, and said, ‘I’ve been looking for

these guys for a while. You’re damn right I’ll support

you!’” The Iraqi unit was the main effort; Task Unit

Thunder and the Army brigade were supporting efforts. All parties agreed on a concept of operations

and a timeline, and Fiscus went back to task group

headquarters to prepare for execution.38

When the operation kicked off, the various elements of the force converged on their targets. The

brigade commander had turned out his entire unit for

a supporting sweep of the area, recognizing the opportunity that the operation presented. Communications problems began to crop up, due probably to

the extensive electronic jamming employed to thwart

command-detonated bombs (a problem Task Unit

Raider had also experienced), and Thunder was

blacked out for approximately 15 minutes, during

which time they did not hear calls from the Iraqi unit

that they were delayed. Adding to the confusion, at

one point the AC-130 mistook Thunder for the Iraqi

88 DET ONE

Capt Stephen V. Fiscus talks with one of the members

of the Polish special operations unit, the GROM, which

formed Task Unit Thunder in the Naval Special Warfare Task Group. Every member of the task group, and

especially the Marines, had the highest respect and

admiration for the Poles.

Photo courtesy of Capt Stephen V. Fiscus
An-Najaf, “Z,” and Home 89

unit and began passing incorrect information.

Task Unit Thunder proceeded straight to its target

location, stopped, and waited. After eight minutes—

a near-eternity on an operation like this—the Poles

still could get no communications. They assaulted the

target as briefed and captured the individuals they

were seeking. On the egress off the target, they

picked up Commander Wilson from his post, where

he had tracked the operation with the Army commander. Both of them were ecstatic at the overall results of the operation.39

Following that operation, Captain Fiscus detached

from the GROM amid much heartfelt praise from

those warriors with whom he had lived and operated

for months, and for whom all of the Marines had developed strong respect and admiration. The Polish

operators made Fiscus an honorary member of the

GROM, and he carried back to California several tokens of their esteem for him, and for all the Marines

of Det One.40

Major M. Wade Priddy, the fires element leader

and operations officer, summarized the deployment

best with one understatement: “We acquitted ourselves pretty well.”41
90 DET ONE
91

Making the Case for the Future

The majority of the Marine Corps U.S. Special Operations Command Detachment returned to the

United States by 2 October 2004.1 The Det One

Marines wore their newly won laurels with pride, but

they faced an uncertain future. Even while still deployed to Iraq, Colonel Robert J. Coates and the staff

had been holding internal discussions on future

courses of action, building their lessons learned, and

planning to incorporate them into what they expected would be a new training cycle. They now had

to submit those courses and recommendations to

Headquarters Marine Corps and lay out their case.

The formation and training phases had been challenging and difficult, the deployment even more so.

But the post-deployment phase would prove to be

the greatest challenge of them all.

Administrative and logistics matters occupied the

detachment’s time after its arrival at Camp Pendleton.

The mountains of gear needed to be inventoried,

checked, cleaned, serviced, stored, turned in, or sent

up for maintenance or disposal. New equipment was

coming in and had to be absorbed. Classified data

and phone lines were being installed. A new training

schedule had to be drawn up and implemented. In

the absence of a clear decision from Headquarters

Marine Corps on the future of the detachment,

Colonel Coates chose to begin anew with the fundamental skills and improve the unit’s capabilities by

absorbing the lessons of the deployment. He also

began an aggressive campaign of leveraging the solid

relationships that the Det One Marines had built with

units in Iraq, such as the Army’s 2d Battalion, 5th Special Forces Group, to continue to improve their ability to operate with Special Forces units.

In October, Colonel Coates, Lieutenant Colonel

Craig S. Kozeniesky, Major M. Wade Priddy, and

Major M. Gerald Carter attended a “Way Ahead” conference at Joint Special Operations University, Hurlburt Field, Florida. The purpose of the conference

was to develop courses of action for the upcoming

USMC-SOCom Warfighter Conference scheduled for

December. On 17 November, Colonel Coates and his

primary staff, along with Commander William W. Wilson and his staff, presented their after action reviews

to the commander of Naval Special Warfare Command, Rear Admiral Joseph Maguire, USN, at the

SEALs’ headquarters at Coronado, California. Lieutenant Colonel Kozeniesky, Major Priddy and Captain Stephen V. Fiscus began with a brief on the

deployment and the lessons learned from it. The responses from the Navy side varied. Rear Admiral

Maguire was openly “laudatory;” others chose to

question the value of the Marine air-ground task force

model and “expressed their opinions that the intelligence and fires sections were the only parts of the

Detachment that should continue into the next

phase.”*

Colonel Coates answered the points by stressing

the value of the detachment’s task organization. He

emphasized that Det One brought capabilities that

SOCom did not otherwise possess in a standing,

stand-alone unit: the detachment could perform all

six warfighting functions (command and control,

fires, maneuver, logistics, intelligence, and force protection); had the depth to field effective liaison officers to varied commands and agencies; and could

operate either as a supporting effort or a main effort

with equal facility. Coates closed by alluding to

higher-level discussions taking place on the same

subject and declined to speculate on the future. The

Commandant of the Marine Corps and the commander of SOCom are “locked in a room,” he said,

referring to the service-level discussions then underway. “We’ll wait for the puff of white smoke or black

smoke.”2

Colonel Coates and Lieutenant Colonel Kozeniesky next presented the detachment’s after-action

brief to General Michael W. Hagee and General

Bryan D. Brown during the USMC-SOCom Warfighter

Conference in December. What emerged from the

meeting was that the Marine and SOCom leadership

did not see a future for the detachment beyond the

terms of the current memorandum of agreement.3 Indeed, as Colonel Coates remembered it, General

Brown stated definitively at the end of the brief that

he did not see a requirement for Det One or any

Chapter 8

A Proven Concept

* RAdm Joseph Maguire, USN, was the head of Special Operations

Command’s Directorate of Force Structure, Resources, and Strategic Assessments when Col Paul Hand served there and was

strongly in favor of greater Marine participation in special operations.
other Marine force contribution to SOCom.4 The two

generals owed a final recommendation to Secretary

of Defense Donald H. Rumsfeld in January 2005, and

his decision would follow.

Back at Camp Pendleton, training resumed for Det

One. In December, the Marines of the reconnaissance

element validated a four-day selection test designed

for the anticipated accession of new members. The

by-name selection of the original detachment could

not be repeated, and a tough but fair process was required to screen and evaluate applicants. Instead of

an epic ordeal designed to cull a handful from a field

of hundreds, they opted for a series of straightforward tests aimed at an already qualified and screened

pool of senior Marines and Navy Corpsmen. Day one

consisted of a standard Marine Corps physical fitness

test, followed by a swim test, and then an eight-part

test that measured more of an applicant’s strength

and agility as well as shooting skills. Day two included a five-mile run and then a 12-mile road march.

It ended with a double obstacle course run and a pistol qualification course. Day three saw a day and

night land navigation test that consumed more than

half the day and rolled into the fourth and final day,

with more land navigation. The whole event finished

with a run with full pack.5

One of the most significant training events occurred early in 2005. Beginning on 18 January, Det

One reconnaissance and counterintelligence Marines

participated in a month-long exercise with Company

B, 2dBattalion, 5th Special Forces Group, with whom

they had worked so closely and successfully in Iraq.

Some Marines were embedded in the operational detachments, giving them the opportunity to observe

and absorb the soldiers’ techniques and procedures

for human intelligence collection. Others were embedded at the company headquarters and assisted in

the coordination of the unit’s overall intelligence collection plan. Reconnaissance Marines shared their expertise in close-quarters battle with the soldiers of the

operational detachments.6

The Secretary of Defense Responds

On 20 February 2005, Det One was scheduled to

reach the end of its two-year existence as a proof-ofconcept unit. At the USMC-SOCom Warfighter conference in December 2004, the detachment’s leadership

had been left with the impression that their unit’s days

were numbered. All hands anticipated a definitive answer on or about 20 February and prepared themselves

for the order to deactivate. As January turned into February, the detachment’s Marines waited to hear their

fate, but the 20th passed without a decision. When no

word came down, all began to have hopes that their

92 DET ONE

Col Robert J. Coates and MGySgt Thomas P. Muratori

furl and case Det One’s colors at the detachment’s deactivation ceremony, 10 March 2006, Camp Pendleton, California.

Photo courtesy of USMC
A Proven Concept 93

unit would live to fight another day.

Behind the delayed announcement were Pentagon

policy discussions. General Hagee and General

Brown did not see a clear requirement for Det One

to continue. General Hagee favored the enhancement

of the traditional role of the Marine Corps with respect to special operations: interoperability with the

theater special operations commands, cooperation on

research, development and acquisitions, as well as

the addition of Marines to perform such duties as foreign military training in order to free SOCom assets to

pursue more specialized tasks. He considered that

the Det One experiment had proven the point, but

the long-term value of the experiment lay in the ties

that the unit had made with Special Operations Command operating forces, the lessons learned in equipment and tactics, and the enhanced interoperability

that would result from all of the above. He and General Brown recommended to the secretary of defense

that the Marine force contribution to Special Operations Command not be continued, but that the Marine

Corps could and should provide certain other capabilities to the special operations community.

Secretary of Defense Rumsfeld’s reply to them,

dated 4 February 2005, began, “Subject: Marines Special Operations Command.” In it, he told them to reassess the problem and “think through the idea of a

MarSOC,” giving them 30 days to report back on

“what it might look like, how many Marines might

be involved, where it might be located, and so

forth.”7 Staff officers at Headquarters Marine Corps

and Special Operations Command accordingly began

to examine the problem and work up courses of action to be submitted to the secretary. The progressive

versions of the briefs they prepared show a large and

ambitious force contribution, numbering more than

2,000 Marines.*

The detailed story of the rise of Marine Special Operations Command (MarSOC) is beyond the scope of

this monograph. It is, however, necessary to mention

certain facets of the discussion on the future of the

Marine Corps and Special Operations Command following the experience of Det One. Two studies were

written on the performance of the detachment and

its future utility to Special Operations Command and

the Marine Corps. One was written for SOCom by a

team from Joint Special Operations University, the

members of which traveled to Iraq and interviewed

Marines and SEALs on a variety of topics, including

the effectiveness of the command relationships and

the value of their training. The study, titled MCSOCOM Proof of Concept Deployment Evaluation Report,

undertook a realistic assessment of the detachment’s

performance and its value to Special Operations

Command.

While citing several questions concerning the

basic requirement for such a unit, the nature of its

command relationships, and the frictions associated

with integration—notably what the authors saw as

the large amount of time Commander Wilson needed

to devote to handling Det One issues8

—it concluded,

“Research and analysis strongly indicate that the initial force contribution was an overall success and

should be continued. The Marine Corps successfully

demonstrated the ability to interoperate with SOF

during combat operations.”9 Significantly, the study

recommended that the Marine Corps maintain the

Det One model, increase its size to 130 members to

address shortfalls identified during the deployment,

and increase the number of detachments in order to

provide “continuous availability.”10 The study also

cited comments by U.S. Army Colonel Michael S.

Repass, commander of Combined Joint Special Operations Task Force-Arabian Peninsula, that Det One

should have been an “independent unit.”

At the same time, researchers from the Center for

Naval Analyses in Alexandria, Virginia, compiled a

study for the Marine Corps on the costs and benefits

of the detachment. Titled MCSOCOM Det: Analysis of

Service Costs and Considerations, it sought to answer

the following questions: was the value of the detachment worth its price, and what courses of action

should be pursued with respect to the Marine Corps

and special operations? This study presented mixed

views. While recognizing that the detachment

brought significant capabilities to the task group in

Iraq, it also questioned the validity of the deployment

as a comprehensive test of the unit since it performed

only one of the four missions given to it.* The study

cited the high price in resources and personnel involved in the detachment’s creation and projected expansion and concerns about the Marine Corps’

insistence on maintaining its hallmark air-ground task

force model. The study observed that “the Marine

Corps can make a valuable contribution in the SOF

* Although the idea of a Marine Special Operations Command was

moving above and beyond Det One, one of the early draft MarSOC

briefs did use the Det One logo as the prospective MarSOC logo

on the cover slide. MarSOC document binder, Marine Corps Historical Center, Quantico, VA.

* That “one mission” was direct action, according to the Center for

Naval Analyses study. Det One members, however, were adamant

that their liaison work with the GROM as well as the missions to

al-Kut and an-Najaf constituted Coalition support. The Joint Special Operations University study credited them with performing

special reconnaissance as well.
realm, both at the unit level and by individual

Marines supporting SOF units,” but it noted that the

other lesson from the proof of concept was that “the

Marine Corps cannot expect to operate completely

on its own terms when supporting SOCom forces.”11

It discussed several courses of action, echoing the

Joint Special Operations University study’s recommendation of maintaining and expanding the Det

One model, as well as others, such as providing a

component-like command to SOCom without a large

contribution and a formal structure, or simply leveraging existing Marine Corps units and capabilities to

support SOCom missions.*

While the Center for Naval Analyses study’s final

version was published on 18 February 2005 and

made available to Det One, the Joint Special Operations University study was not released; it was finished in December 2004 but held at Special

Operations Command. Det One knew of its existence, having worked with its authors during and

after the deployment, but the Marines could not obtain a copy of the report during the first half of 2005

when Colonel Coates and the staff were trying to

make the case for their unit’s continued existence.

They finally received a copy on 12 December 2005.**12

Colonel Coates and his staff saw the formation of

Marine Special Operations Command itself as a significant and necessary step forward for the Marine

Corps, but they saw in the organizational details

some points with which they did not agree. In their

opinion, the proposed MarSOC structure was not the

task-organized model that they had formed and validated. As they saw it, they had the experience to recommend the right courses of action, having

demonstrated that their unit produced a solution that

minimized impact on the Marine Corps while providing a uniquely Marine capability to address Special

Operations Command shortfalls.

Their proposed alternative course was a component commanded by a major general, with two organizations under it: a Marine Special Operations

Group, and a Foreign Military Training Unit. As the

Det One officers outlined it, under the Marine Special

Operations Group initially would be two standing detachments, called Marine Special Operations Units,

task organized to perform all warfighting functions

and having the missions of special reconnaissance,

direct action, coalition support, advanced special operations, and combating terrorism. Det One, with personnel augments, would form the basis for the first of

the two units and would deploy again in January

2006. The Marine Special Operations Group would

also be a deployable warfighting headquarters, and

could form the core of a joint special operations task

force. In this plan, the component would be ready

for initial action in the second quarter of fiscal year

2006, a matter of months from the time they proposed it. An aviation detachment would come on line

starting in fiscal year 2008, followed by third and

fourth special operations units in 2009 and 2010, respectively. This plan, as the Det One staff designed

it, carried with it the philosophy and integrity that the

unit’s founders had built into it, namely a uniquely

Marine contribution to an identifiable need, which

also leveraged existing Marine Corps structure and

returned value to the operating forces.13

As 2005 progressed, however, Colonel Coates and

his Marines had less and less effective voices in the

new command’s structure. The Det One plan did not

find favor with the Marines working on the Marine

Special Operations Command structure, and the detachment’s command chronology asserted that the

proposal being worked by the action officers at

Headquarters Marine Corps “was constructed with

virtually no input from the detachment.” It would not

be incorrect to say that from the Det One perspective,

the debate inside the Marine Corps on the size and

shape of MarSOC was acrimonious.

The Detachment Presses On

For most 2005, the status of Det One took on a

peculiar aspect, separate from but related to the frictions at the service level. Although it was no secret

that the unit’s days were numbered, there was a lingering question on the extent to which it would provide, in part or in whole, the foundation for the new

Marine component command.14 Det One was not

slated for further deployments. It could not take on

more recruits. Its men were, for the most part, held

on station. The only Marines allowed to transfer were

those retiring, those who were slated for command,

and a selected few others who were assigned to highdemand billets. Lieutenant Colonel Kozeniesky, pro94 DET ONE

* The Center for Naval Analyses study explicitly used the Det One

model as the basis for examining options for a continued and expanded force contribution to Special Operations Command, from

one detachment augmented to a strength of 130 (just as the Joint

Special Operations University study did) and with the current command relationships, to four detachments, eight detachments, and

finally a 2,500-Marine component command with eight “independently deployable detachments with an aviation combat element.”

** In an email to the author on 12 December 2005, Maj Priddy 

wrote, “Amazing that it takes the subject of the study a year to get

a copy of it. Haven't had a chance to digest the whole thing, but

overall seems to be a very favorable review, which probably explains why it’s taken a year to get a copy. Interesting conclusions

and recommendations, but since they were completely ignored

they're probably also irrelevant at this point.”
A Proven Concept 95

moted after return from Iraq, left to assume command

of an infantry battalion. His place was taken by Lieutenant Colonel Francis L. Donovan, another veteran

of 1st Force Reconnaissance Company under Colonel

Coates. Donovan had played multiple roles in the formation of the detachment. While on recruiting duty,

he helped reenlist some of the reconnaissance

Marines who were out of the Corps, then as a staff officer in Special Operations Training Group, he had

helped evaluate part of the Capstone Exercise in Nevada. Additionally, he had done some time with Special Operations Command and knew the SOCom

realm well.15

This state of suspended animation put the detachment in a difficult position. It could train with

what it had, but to what end? Colonel Coates chose

to press on, regardless of the policy-level discussions,

over which he had little influence and no control. He

wanted to keep his Marines sharp, and even if the

unit was to be disbanded, his intent was to hand over

Marines who were fully trained and had skills no others had. If they happened to be called upon to deploy again, he was determined to be ready when the

call came.

During 2005, training continued at a brisk pace.16

Det One Marines attended several schools, including

breaching, parachute, communications, and medical

courses. The fires element Marines maintained their

joint terminal attack controller qualifications with live

close air support training. The reconnaissance element and radio reconnaissance section worked on

ever-greater integration, embodying the lessons they

had learned in Iraq. In July, the reconnaissance

Marines went to the wilds of southwestern Utah for

a four-week sniper package. In September, the unit

shifted to element training and returned to Bridgeport, California, for mountain operations, followed

in October by more close-quarters battle training at

Camp Pendleton and a week-long raid force exercise

at a former U.S. Air Force base in southern California. 17

By the fall of 2005, the detachment had again

achieved a high state of readiness despite personnel

shortfalls and an uncertain future. One proposal they

brought up was deployment with I Marine Expeditionary Force as a “counter-intimidation task force,”

reprising their role in Baghdad by providing a standalone unit solely dedicated to striking at the insurgent cells that were interfering with the nascent Iraqi

security forces. The commander of Marine Forces Pacific, Lieutenant General Wallace C. Gregson, pressed

for that and other options for the continued employment of the detachment and was one of its most

vocal advocates among Marine general officers.18 On

30 November, however, Colonel Coates was informed that the detachment would be deactivated.

This diagram shows the original structure and manning levels for Det One. The unit was allotted 86 personnel, but due to shortfalls discovered during theformation and training phase, it was augmented to

approximately 100; the reconnaissance element was

also reorganized from four teams to six. 
Although he was not given a final date, Coates informed the staff, and they began to prepare a program of actions and milestones.

Deactivation

On 7 February 2006, nearly one year to the day

after Secretary Rumsfeld’s memorandum, Det One

got the official word on its fate. Captain Daniel B.

Sheehan III forwarded a message to the author with

the comment, “There you have it. The fat lady sang.”

Attached to his e-mail was the full text of Marine

Corps Bulletin 5400, dated 6 February 2006. It directed the deactivation of MCSOCom Detachment no

later than 1 April 2006 and laid out the subordinate

tasks in detail. The manpower structure that was

shuffled to create the billets for the detachment

would be reshuffled to return each of the slots to the

42 commands from which they had come. The

equipment would be transferred, after inventory and

limited technical inspection, to Marine Corps Logistics Command. From there, service-common equipment would enter the pool for reissue to other units

in the operating forces; the special operations-specific gear would remain in the hands of Logistics

Command for use by Marine Special Operations

Command. * Personnel orders would follow; most

Marines would be sent to units in the operating

forces, and many of them would deploy to Iraq. Approximately two dozen Det One Marines received orders to Marine Special Operations Command units

on the East and West coasts. 19

On 10 March 2006, in between rain showers on a

brisk afternoon, Det One held its deactivation ceremony. On the same spot where the detachment was

activated nearly three years before, a much-reduced

unit stood in a final formation. Among the guests

present were the Commanding General, Marine

Forces Pacific, Lieutenant General John F. Goodman,

the Commanding General, 1st Marine Division, Major

General Richard F. Natonski, and Mr. Charles

Meacham from the Marine Raider Association. Family, friends, and retired members of the detachment

looked on from the stands. As the band played,

Colonel Coates and Master Gunnery Sergeant

Thomas P. Muratori cased the unit’s colors. Then,

Lieutenant Colonel Frank Donovan called out the

command, “Dismissed,” and the Marine Corps U.S.

Special Operations Command Detachment ceased to

exist.

The Legacy of Det One

After Det One passed into history, Colonel Coates

was assigned to the staff of I Marine Expeditionary

Force (Forward) as the officer responsible for overseeing the training, equipping, and directing of the

Iraqi security forces. Lieutenant Colonel Kozeniesky

took command of 2d Battalion, 5th Marines, and deployed with the 31st MEU (SOC) from Okinawa.

Lieutenant Colonel Donovan took command of 2d

Battalion, 1st Marines, within weeks of the deactivation of Det One.

Major Carter elected to do another joint intelligence tour. Major Priddy was assigned to a border

training team in Iraq and left for a one-year tour at

a fort on the Jordanian border. Major Thomas P.

Dolan returned to a light attack helicopter squadron

and deployed to Iraq, while Captain Daniel B. Sheehan III was assigned as an instructor in the helicopter training squadron at Camp Pendleton. Captain

Christopher B. Batts, who had left active duty soon

after the detachment’s return from Iraq, went to

work at an organization in Special Operations Command. Captain Mathew H. Kress returned to the Marine Corps Reserve, while Captain Olufemi A.

Harrison stayed until the end and oversaw the transfer of the unit’s facilities and equipment. Both Captain Eric N. Thompson and Captain Stephen V.

Fiscus took command of infantry companies, and

Captain Thompson deployed to Afghanistan in 2005.

Several Det One Marines retired, including Master

Sergeants James R. Rutan, Joseph L. Morrison, and

Terry M. Wyrick and Gunnery Sergeants Monty K.

Genegabus and James E. Wagner. Staff Sergeant Victor M. Guerra left active duty and took a civilian information technology position with a Special

Operations Command organization.

The Marines who stayed on active duty secured

various assignments, some in the nascent Marine Special Operations Command units, others in conventional units. Master Sergeant Fidencio Villalobos Jr.

was assigned to the fires section of I Marine Expeditionary Force and deployed immediately after the deactivation for a one-year tour in Iraq. Master Sergeant

Charles H. Padilla remained on the West Coast as a

special operations training group instructor; Master

Sergeant John A. Dailey took a similar billet on the

East Coast. Gunnery Sergeant Jack A. Kelly was assigned to Expeditionary Warfare Training Group Pacific as an instructor. Master Gunnery Sergeant

Thomas P. Muratori became the operations chief at

1st Marine Special Operations Battalion, the West

Coast operating unit of Marine Special Operations

Command. Master Sergeant Mark S. Kitashima re96 DET ONE

* Col Coates and LtCol Kozeniesky’s .45-caliber pistols, serial numbers DET 1-001 and DET 1-002, went to the National Museum of

the Marine Corps, Quantico, VA, along with an M4 carbine and its

accessories.
A Proven Concept 97

ceived orders to Okinawa. Gunnery Sergeants Jaime

J. Sierra and Jaime Maldonado both transferred to 1st

Force Reconnaissance Company, which was destined

to be part of Marine Special Operations Command.

(The humvee they recovered and rebuilt is now in

the outdoor museum at Camp Pendleton.) Gunnery

Sergeant Chadwick D. Baker reported to the Ranger

Training Brigade at Fort Benning, Georgia, to be an

instructor.

Master Sergeant Bret A. Hayes became the intelligence operations chief at Marine Special Operations

Command headquarters, Camp Lejeune, North Carolina. Gunnery Sergeant Kenneth C. Pinckard was assigned to the Marine Corps Intelligence Activity at

Quantico, Virginia, where he was of great help to the

author in the preparation of this monograph. Master

Sergeant Hays B. Harrington was sent to 1st Radio

Battalion and deployed to Iraq. Gunnery Sergeant

James A. Crawford became the signals intelligence

chief at Marine Special Operations Command, while

Staff Sergeant William B. Parker went to the Defense

Language Institute to learn Farsi. The counterintelligence Marines remained in their community as well,

in various capacities and different locations.

The founders of Det One had sought to ensure

that the special operations experiences of the Marines

in the unit would be fed back into the Corps at different levels by returning them to the operating

forces. Ironically, the members of Det One, which

were conceived as the modern descendants of the

Marine Raiders of World War II, shared the fate of

those Marines: their unit was disbanded, but they

seeded other units with their experience and training. Although perhaps in a manner not originally intended, that is what Det One’s Marines are doing: as

commanding officers, instructors, staff officers, and

team leaders, they are continuing the work they

began in June 2003. This project is a testament to

what they did, and what the Marine Corps can and

will do when called upon to excel. They were, in the

words of Major Priddy, “one of the most talented

groups of Marines ever assembled.”20
98 DET ONE
99

Epilogue

Where No Group of Marines Had

Gone Before

By the findings of various reports and assessments,

the Marine Corps U.S. Special Operations Command

Detachment proved the concept it was designed to

test, despite, as both the Joint Special Operations University and Center for Naval Analyses studies pointed

out, the lack of a clearly stated requirement. Det One

conducted two of the four missions it was assigned:

direct action and Coalition support, and, by one account, a third mission as well, special reconnaissance.

The true value of its performance lies not in the statistics—this many raids conducted, that many sub-detachments deployed, or this many task group staff

positions filled—but in the task-organized capabilities it brought to bear over the course of the deployment. It demonstrated the applicability of the Marine

Corps warfighting approach to the special operations

realm, and it proved that the Marines could field a

special operations unit that had value to Special Operations Command but still remained uniquely Marine.

The combat actions of the deployment clearly validated the pre-deployment training plan. This is a

significant point, as it demonstrated that Marines

could develop and execute a plan to train themselves

to special operations standards. In a similar manner,

the deployment validated the selection of the

Marines, although not necessarily the selection

process itself, which was a singular event. Det One

secured the right mix of individual Marines, some

with special operations backgrounds, most without

those experiences, but all with a solid Marine Corps

background.

No less significant for the Marine Corps, then, is

that Det One also validated the special operationscapable program. The discussions and debates of the

1984 Fleet Marine Force Atlantic working group ordered by General Paul X. Kelley had produced two

results. One was a rigorous examination of what the

Marine Corps could, should, could not, and should

not do in the area of special operations. The second

was the subsequent transformation of a standing organization—the Marine amphibious unit—into something that was neither a solely conventional force nor

an explicitly special force. With the success and

value of the forward-deployed Marine expeditionary

units taken as such an article of faith by Marines

today, it is difficult to appreciate objectively how singular the emergence of that capability was within the

Department of Defense, and the potential it revealed.

Det One was a product of the maturation of the overall development of the training, equipment acquisition, operational philosophy, and practical

experience that was the special operations capable

program, and especially the maritime special purpose

forces.* If a Marine expeditionary unit is a conventionally organized force with certain special operations capabilities, Det One was a logical progression

from it: a standing special operations task force that

was fully grounded in conventional operations. 

Since there was no “Det Two” and no follow-on

deployment for Det One, questions will linger on

what the outcome might have been had the circumstances of the deployment been different. What if,

for example, Det One had been deployed as a whole,

and its task-organized capabilities preserved to the

greatest extent possible? What then would have been

the result of its operations in Iraq? Unfortunately,

what-if ruminations, even if cast into known parameters, do little for concrete evaluation. The fact is that

the 20 February 2003 memorandum of agreement

empowered the commander of Squadron One to

task-organize his forces, and much of the detachment’s capabilities were accordingly placed in general support of the task group rather than in direct

support of Task Unit Raider. In light of this fact, it is

more useful to evaluate what effect those capabilities

brought to the task group as a whole, and on the

campaign in Iraq. 

Clearly, the intelligence element dominated its

field, having no peer in any other organization in

Iraq, excepting only perhaps the high-tier Special Operations Command units, which are in a class by

themselves.1 In fact, Colonel Robert J. Coates regarded his intelligence capability as comparable to

that of the highest tier SOCom units.2 The radio re-

* It should be noted that Det One’s training in close-quarter battle

tactics illustrated that one segment of the Marine Corps effort had

not kept pace with the times.
100

100 DET ONE

connaissance and counterintelligence Marines proved

themselves able to work in the SOCom realm, if anything lacking only a label. The Joint Special Operations University study mapped both of those

specialties to special operations designations but did

not note the key point: radio reconnaissance and

counterintelligence are standard Marine capabilities,

not “special” capabilities.3 The individual intelligence

Marines serving with the outlying task units certainly

distinguished themselves and contributed skills and

abilities that would not have been present without

them. Likewise, the Marines of the fires element occupied a niche all their own in a SOCom unit, proving that basic combined arms thinking is as

applicable in special operations as in conventional

fighting.

What effect did Det One have on Operation Iraqi

Freedom? Here again, the statistics, although impressive, do not tell the full story. The Marine participation in the close-in duties of the personal

security detail lasted only a few days, and thus that

episode does not provide much substance for evaluation. Their direct action missions, however, had a

substantial effect in preventing the insurgents from

being able to deal a death blow to the fledgling Iraqi

government. Task Unit Raider, even when depleted

by requirements in al-Kut and an-Najaf, formed a

powerful striking force that hit insurgent networks relentlessly, alone and in conjunction with the men of

the GROM whom they supported with a liaison cell,

while the SEAL task units did the dangerous and unheralded work of the personal security details. It was

neither the SEALs nor the Marines nor the Poles alone

who protected the Iraqi government; it was the task

group that won the day, and Marines clearly added

significant value to Commander William W. Wilson’s

warfighting capabilities and his ability to accomplish

that “most important mission in Iraq.”

At al-Kut and an-Najaf, the Marines provided

timely capabilities to special and conventional units

and in both cases materially contributed to the ability of the Coalition to hold the line against insurgent

forces. Their actions enabled the emerging Iraqi government to enforce its authority, demonstrate resolve

in the face of mortal challenges, and assert basic legitimate governance over glowering brute force.

Finally, what effect did Det One have on the organization and training of the Marine Corps? It is too

early to answer that question fully; the exact ways in

which the Marine Corps will operate in its traditional

expeditionary role while achieving greater interoperability with Special Operations Command will emerge

in due course as the Global War on Terrorism continues and Marine Special Operations Command

reaches full operational capability. The acrimony attending the discussions on the demise of the detachment and the concurrent rise of MarSOC make it

contentious to say that Det One was MarSOC’s direct

lineal predecessor. Yet it is also difficult to say that

Det One had no effect at all on the formation of that

command, as Det One was certainly the first Marine

unit ever to serve with U.S. Special Operations Command. This much is true: “They went where no

group of Marines had really gone before, and they

proved their worth,” said Lieutenant General Jan C.

Huly, Deputy Commandant for Plans, Policies, and

Operations. “It was a great proof-of-concept under

some trying and actual combat conditions, and they

did very, very well. And I think that the Marine Corps

and the nation owe them a debt of thanks for what

they did in blazing the trail for the Marine Corps component to the Special Operations Command.”4
101

Chapter 1

1 Department of Defense, Secretary of Defense Memorandum on Special Operations Forces, 3 October

1983 (hereafter SecDef SOF Memo).

2 U.S. Special Operations Command History and Research Office, United States Special Operations Command History: 15th Anniversary (MacDill AFB, 2002),

10.

3 USMC, PP&O Information Paper, LtCol J. Giles Kyser

IV, “History (Supported By ‘Hard Data’) As To Why

The Marine Corps Did Not Participate In The Standup

Of SOCom,” 5 March 2003. This view is also asserted

in similar language in Maj Robert E. Mattingly, USMC,

Herringbone Cloak—GI Dagger (Washington, D.C.:

USMC History and Museums Division, 1989)

4 SecDef SOF Memo

5 Headquarters II Marine Amphibious Force, Special

Operations Study Group, “Examination of Marine

Corps Special Operations Enhancements,” 19 November–17 December 1984, pp. 3–5 (hereafter II

MAF Examination).

6 Ibid., 6.

7 Ibid., 7–8.

8 Ibid., 9.

9 Ibid., 24–25.

10 Ibid., 25. 11 Headquarters Fleet Marine Force Atlantic, “Report

of Examination of Marine Corps Special Operations

Enhancements,” 26 March 1985, para. 3.c (hereafter

FMFLant report).

12 II MAF Examination, 16. 13 FMFLant report, para. 10.a. 14 Ibid., para. 11. 15 Ibid., cover letter, para. 3.

16 CG, Fleet Marine Force Atlantic, “Marine Corps Special Operations Capabilities, Discussion with the

Commandant of the Marine Corps,” 27 April 1985

(briefing slides; hereafter CMC/FMFLant SOC brief).

17 Ibid. 18 Ibid. 19 CMC, “Memorandum for the Record: The Marine

Corps and Special Operations,” 7 June 1985.

20 CMC, “Memorandum for the Joint Chiefs of Staff on

the Marine Corps and Special Operations,” 22 July

1985; and USMC, CMC P4 to USCinCEur, CinCPac,

CinCMAC, CinCLant, USCentCom, USCinCSO, USCinCRed; Subject: The Marine Corps and Special Operations, 220915ZJul85.

21 Col Melvin G. Spiese intvw, 16 May 2005 (Marine

Corps Historical Center [MCHC], Quantico, VA).

22 U.S. Marine Corps, ALMAR 023/88, para. 2. 23 24th MEU (SOC) ComdC, 1 January–30 June 1995

(Gray Research Center [GRC], Quantico, VA).

24 24th MEU (SOC) ComdC, 1 January–30 June 1993

(GRC).

25 4th MEB ComdC, 1–31 January 1991 (GRC).

26 LtCol J. Giles Kyser IV intvw, 25 May 2004 (MCHC).

27 Col Paul A. Hand intvw, 26 August 2005 (MCHC). 28 Kyser intvw. 29 Hand intvw. 30 Kyser intvw. 31 Ibid. 32 Hand intvw 33 Ibid.

34 MGySgt Joseph G. Settelen III 1st intvw, 3 August

2004 (MCHC).

35 MSgt Troy G. Mitchell intvw, 12 August 2004

(MCHC).

36 Kyser intvw. 37 Joint Publication 1-02, Department of Defense Dictionary of Military and Associated Terms, 12 April

2001 (as amended through 31 August 2005). 38 The special operations section of Plan, Policies, and

Operations had been pushed out of its Pentagon office and back into the Navy Annex after the damage

to the Pentagon on 11 September 2001.

39 Settelen-1 intvw. 40 Ibid. 41 Kyser intvw. 42 Hand intvw.

43 Kyser intvw. 44 Ibid.

45 Ibid.

46 Ibid.

47 Settelen-1 intvw. 48 Ibid.

49 Mitchell intvw. 50 Kyser intvw. 51 USMC, PP&O Information Paper, LtCol J. Giles

Notes
Kyser IV, “Marine Support To Special Operations

Forces (SOF) And Contributions To Address USMC

Expanding Relationship And Interoperability Concerns,” 2 July 2002.

52 Hand intvw.

53 Kyser intvw.

54 Ibid. 55 Ibid.

56 CMC P4 Message, First Marine Corps Force Contribution to the United States Special Operations Command (USSOCom), 281330ZOct02.

57 5400 MCBUL 040900ZDec02 para. 2B.

Chapter 2

1 LtCol J. Giles Kyser IV intvw, 25 May 2004 (Marine

Corps Historical Center [MCHC], Quantico, VA).

2 Sgt Victor M. Guerra intvw, 16 November 2004

(MCHC).

3 GySgt James A. Wagner intvw, 12 January 2005

(MCHC).

4 Guerra intvw.

5 Ibid.

6 MSgt James R. Rutan intvw, 10 January 2005

(MCHC).

7 Wagner intvw. The problems of creating and forming the new unit were occasionally relieved by minor

gaffes. A unit is assigned various codes that serve as

shorthand for the automated data systems, so that

large numbers of orders can be efficiently cut for

Marines to report in, check out of, or otherwise be

detached from that unit. Det One was assigned a

monitor command code of “1F9,” naming its home

station as Camp Del Mar, on Camp Pendleton. In the

course of the stand-up phase, a large number of orders were efficiently cut for Marines to report to Pensacola, Florida. “1F9” was an old code, belonging to

some unit that had not been in existence in years,

but the data systems had never been updated to say,

“Camp Del Mar, Camp Pendleton, California,” instead

of “Pensacola, Florida.” MGySgt Joseph G. Settelen

III intvw, 3 August 2004 (MCHC).

8 Capt Eric N. Thompson intvw, 14 October 2004

(MCHC).

9 MSgt Terry M. Wyrick intvw, 23 March 2005

(MCHC).

10 MSgt Joseph L. Morrison intvw, 14 April 2006

(MCHC).

11 MSgt Charles H. Padilla intvw, 10 January 2005

(MCHC).

12 MSgt John A. Dailey intvw, 10 March 2006 (MCHC).

13 MSgt Keith E. Oakes intvw, 11 January 2005

(MCHC).

14 HM1 Matthew S. Pranka intvw, 10 January 2005

(MCHC).

15 SSgt Chadwick D. Baker intvw, 24 March 2005

(MCHC).

16 Maj M. Wade Priddy intvw, 13 October 2004

(MCHC).

17 Maj Thomas P. Dolan intvw, 13 October2004

(MCHC).

18 GySgt Fidencio Villalobos Jr. intvw, 13 January 2005

(MCHC).

19 GySgt Ryan P. Keeler intvw, 12 January 2005

(MCHC).

20 LtCol Francis L. Donovan intvw, 24 March 2006

(MCHC).

21 Maj M. Gerald Carter intvw, 13 October 2004

(MCHC).

22 GySgt Kenneth C. Pinckard intvw, 14 October 2004

(MCHC).

23 MSgt Hays B. Harrington intvw, 13 January 2005

(MCHC).

24 Capt Christopher B. Batts intvw, 6 January 2005

(MCHC).

25 Ibid.

26 CWO2 Kevin E. Vicinus intvw, 23 June 2006

((MCHC).

27 5400 MCBUL 040900ZDEC02, para. 4A. 28 Capt Matthew H. Kress intvw, 18 November 2004

(MCHC).

29 Ibid. 30 Carter intvw. 31 GySgt Mark S. Kitashima intvw, 18 November 2004

(MCHC).

32 Ibid. 33 Ibid.

34 Ibid.

35 20 February 2003 MOA, para. 5.

36 MCSOCom Det One Mission Training Plan, 1 March

2003, para. 3.a.(3).(a).

Chapter 3

1 MCSOCom Det One Mission Training Plan, 1 March

2003, para. 3.a. (1), emphasis in the original (hereafter 2003 MTP).

2 MSgt Charles H. Padilla intvw, 10 January 2005 (Marine Corps Historical Center [MCHC], Quantico, VA).

3 Capt Stephen V. Fiscus intvw, 17 November 2004

(MCHC).

4 Maj Thomas P. Dolan intvw, 13 October 2004

(MCHC).

5 MCSOCom Det One ComdC, 1 January–30 June

2003, Sect 2 (Gray Research Center [GRC], Quantico

VA).

102 DET ONE
Notes 103

6 2003 MTP, para 3.a (1).

7 2003 MTP, Encl. 3: Detachment Training Packages.

8 Maj M. Gerald Carter intvw, 13 October 2004

(MCHC).

9 Capt Eric N. Thompson intvw, 14 October 2004

(MCHC); MCSOCom Det One ComdC 1 July–30 December 2003 (GRC).

10 Thompson intvw. 11 MSgt Keith E. Oakes intvw, 11 January 2005

(MCHC).

12 Ibid. 13 SSgt Andrew T. Kingdon intvw, 24 March 2005

(MCHC).

14 GySgt Jaime Maldonado and GySgt Jaime Sierra

intvw, 22 March 2005 (MCHC). 15 GySgt Monty K. Genegabus intvw, 1 November

2004 (MCHC).

16 MCSOCOM Det One ComdC, 1 July–31 December

2003, Section 2 (GRC).

17 Thompson intvw. 18 Col Robert J. Coates intvw, 6 May 2004 (MCHC). 19 Dolan intvw. 20 Padilla intvw. 21 Dolan intvw. 22 LtCol Kozeniesky email to author, 5 April 2006. 23 Dolan intvw. 24 Thompson intvw. 25 Padilla intvw.

26 SSgt Alex N. Conrad intvw, 1 August 2005 (MCHC).

27 Padilla intvw. 28 Dolan intvw; Thompson intvw. 29 Department of Energy, Nevada Test Site Web page

(www.nv.doe.gov/nts/default.htm.).

30 Thompson intvw. 31 MGySgt Joseph G. Settelen III, USMC, 2d intvw, 24

Febuary 2006 (MCHC) (hereafter Settelen-2 intvw).

32 Sgt Victor M. Guerra intvw, 16 November 2004

(MCHC).

33 GySgt Kenneth C. Pinckard intvw, 14 October 2004

(MCHC).

34 Padilla intvw.

35 HM1 Matthew S. Pranka intvw, 10 January 2005

(MCHC).

36 Thompson intvw. 37 Ibid. 38 Settelen-2 intvw. 39 Ibid. 40 Ibid. 41 Cmdr William W. Wilson, USN, intvw, 24 March

2005 (MCHC).

42 Settelen-2 intvw.

43 Pinckard intvw. 44 MSgt John A. Dailey intvw, 10 March 2006 (MCHC).

45 Settelen-2 intvw.

46 Pinckard-2 intvw.

47 Fiscus intvw. 48 Oakes intvw.

49 LtCol Kozeniesky email to author, 5 April 2006. 50 MCSOCOM Det One ComdC, 1 January–30 June

2004, 3–4 (GRC).

51 Ibid. 52 Oakes intvw.

53 LtCol Craig S. Kozeniesky intvw, 15 October 2004

(MCHC).

54 I Marine Expeditionary Force, “I MEF SOTG Tactical Evaluation of MCSOCOM Det One capstone Exercise,” 21 January 2004, para. 3.(2).c.

55 LtCol Kozeniesky email to author, 5 April 2006.

56 Dailey intvw. 57 MSgt Terry M. Wyrick intvw, 23 March 2005

(MCHC).

58 Pinckard intvw.

59 Carter intvw.

60 Dolan intvw.

61 Kozeniesky intvw.

Chapter 4

1 Cmdr William W. Wilson, USN, intvw, 24 March

2005 (Marine Corps Historical Center [MCHC], Quantico, VA).

2 MCSOCOM Detachment One, Daily Sitrep, 20

April 2004, para. 4.c (U) (hereafter Daily sitrep]).

3 Daily sitrep 28 April 2004, para. 4.c.

4 Capt Matthew H. Kress intvw, 18 November 2004

(MCHC).

5 Daily sitrep, 28 April 2004, para. 4.c.

6 Wilson intvw.

7 Ibid.

8 LtCol Craig S. Kozeniesky intvw, 15 October 2004

(MCHC).

9 MCSOCOM Detachment One, Deployed Weekly

Sitrep 020 (hereafter Weekly sitrep 020).

10 Daily sitrep, 25 April 2004. 11 Deployed weekly sitrep, 021, para. 3.A.1. 12 Deployed weekly sitrep, 021. 13 MSgt Terry M. Wyrick intvw, 23 March 2005

(MCHC).

14 MSgt Keith E. Oakes intvw, 11 January 2005

(MCHC).

15 Daily sitrep, 4 May 2004; MSgt Charles H. Padilla

intvw, 10 January 2005 (MCHC).

16 Padilla intvw. 17 Padilla intvw. 18 MCSOCOM Detachment One, Operational Summary, Objective Racket.
19 Ibid. 20 Daily sitrep, 2 May 2004, comdrs comments. 21 Daily sitrep, 6 May 2004, comdrs comments. 22 Daily sitrep, 6 May 2004, comdrs comments.

Chapter 5

1 MCSOCOM Detachment One, Operational Summary, Operation Raccoon (hereafter Raccoon

opsum).

2 MCSOCOM Detachment One, Daily Sitrep, 17 May

2004.

3 LtCol Craig S. Kozeniesky intvw, 15 October 2004

(MCHC).

4 Rambler opsum.

5 Revenge opsum.

6 MSgt Terry M. Wyrick intvw, 23 March 2005

(MCHC).

7 MCSOCOM Detachment One, Deployed Weekly

Sitrep 024.

8 Wyrick intvw.

9 Wyrick intvw; Cederholm award citation

10 SSgt Andrew T. Kingdon intvw, 24 March 2005

(MCHC).

11 Tyrell award citation. 12 GySgt James A. Crawford intvw, 13 January 2006

(MCHC).

13 SSgt Daniel L. Williams intvw, 23 March 2005

(MCHC).

14 Williams intvw and award citation. 15 Sgt William B. Parker intvw, 3 August 2005

(MCHC).

16 Williams intvw. 17 MSgt Bret A. Hayes intvw, (MCHC). 18 Ibid. 19 Ibid. 20 Author’s conversation with Capt Shannon Johnson,

23 April 2004.

21 LtGen James T. Conway, press conference, 1 May

2004.

22 LtCol John C. Coleman invtw, 3 August 2005

(MCHC).

23 Author’s conversation with Col Coates, 23 June

2004, as detailed in the author’s official journal.

Chapter 6

1 Cmdr William W. Wilson, USN, intvw, 24 March

2005 (Marine Corps Historical Center [MCHC], Quantico, VA).

2 Capt Eric N. Thompson intvw, 14 October 2004

(MCHC).

3 MSgt John A. Dailey intvw, 10 March 2006 (MCHC).

4 Wilson intvw.

5 MCSOCOM Detachment One, Deployed Weekly

Sitrep 028 (hereafter Weekly sitrep 028).

6 MCSOCOM Detachment One, Operational Summary, Operation Radiate (hereafter Radiate opsum).

7 Raven opsum and conops.

8 Raven opsum and debrief.

9 Ibid.

10 Ibid. 11 Recoil opsum. 12 Relinquish opsum and debrief. 13 Deployed weekly sitrep 029, commander’s comments.

14 Recruit opsum. 15 Recruit opsum and debrief.

16 MSgt Joseph L. Morrison intvw, 14 April 2006

(MCHC); MCSOCOM Detachment One, Daily Sitrep,

30 June 2004 (hereafter daily sitrep, 30 June 2004).

17 Republican opsum. 18 Ibid. 19 Ibid. 20 Weekly sitrep 030; Daily sitrep, 30 June 2004. 21 Roundup opsum; Capt Christopher B. Batts intvw,

6 January 2005 (MCHC); SSgt Scott J. Beretz intvw,

23 March 2005 (MCHC).

22 Roundup opsum. 23 Ibid. 24 Reform opsum. 25 Ibid.

26 Ibid. 27 Reflector opsum. 28 Weekly sitrep 032. 29 Coates-2 intvw. 30 Coates intvw and award citation 31 GySgt James A. Crawford intvw, 13 January 2006

(MCHC); Sgt William B. Parker intvw, 3 August 2005

(MCHC).

32 Crawford/Parker AAR and intvws. 33 Ibid. 

34 Ibid.

35 Ibid.

36 Ibid. 37 Ibid. 38 SSgt Daniel L. Williams intvw, 23 March 2005

(MCHC); Williams award citation.

39 Batts intvw. 40 Ibid. 41 Relapse opsum. 42 Ibid.; Beretz intvw.

43 Ibid. 44 Ibid.

45 Relapse opsum.

104 DET ONE
Notes 105

46 Ibid.

47 Roadster opsum 48 Ibid.

49 Ibid.; Beretz intvw 50 Deployed weekly sitrep 035. 51 Daily sitrep, 12 August 2004. 52 SSgt Chadwick D. Baker intvw, 24 March 2005

(MCHC).

53 MSgt Charles H. Padilla intvw, 10 January 2005

(MCHC).

54 al-Kut opsum. 55 Baker and Thompson intvws; al-Kut opsum.

56 Capt Daniel B. Sheehan intvw, 21 April 2005

(MCHC).

57 Ibid. 58 al-Kut opsum.

59 Ibid.

60 Roulette conops.

61 Roulette opsum.

62 Resistor opsum and conops.

63 Ibid.

Chapter 7

1 For an overview of the Marines’ role in the fight for

an-Najaf, see Francis X. Kozlowski, U.S. Marines in

Battle: An-Najaf, August 2004 (Washington, D.C.:

U.S. Marine Corps History Division, 2009).

2 MCSOCOM Detachment One, Operational Summary, Najaf (hereafter [Name] opsum).

3 Ibid.; MSgt Terry M. Wyrick intvw, 23 March 2005

(MCHC).

4 Ibid.

5 Wyrick intvw; Najaf debrief.

6 Wyrick intervw; GySgt Fidencio Villalobos Jr. intvw,

13 January 2005 (MCHC).

7 Najaf opsum; Wyrick intvw.

8 Najaf opsum; GySgt Ryan P. Keeler intvw, 12 January 2005 (MCHC).

9 Najaf opsum; Wyrick and Villalobos intvws.

10 Najaf opsum. 11 Keeler intvw; MSgt John A. Dailey intvw, 10 March

2006 (MCHC); SSgt Alex N. Conrad intvw, 1 August

2005 (MCHC).

12 Ibid. 13 Najaf debrief and opsum. 14 SSgt Chadwick D. Baker intvw, 24 March 2005

(MCHC); MSgt Charles H. Padilla intvw, 10 January

2005 (MCHC); SSgt Glen S. Cederholm intvw, 12 January 2005 (MCHC); GySgt Jack A. Kelly intvw, 22

March 2005 (MCHC).

15 Najaf opsum; Wyrick intvw.

16 Najaf opsum; Baker intvw.

17 Najaf opsum; Capt Daniel B. Sheehan intvw, 21

April 2005 (MCHC); Keeler, Baker intvws.

18 Najaf opsum; Conrad intvw. 19 Kelly, Padilla, and Baker intvws. 20 Kelly intvw. 21 Najaf opsum; Sheehan interview 22 Kozlowski, An-Najaf, 42. 23 Najaf opsum; Kelly and Baker intvws. 24 Rifle opsum. 25 MCSOCOM Detachment One, Deployed Weekly

Sitrep 036 (hereafter Weekly sitrep [number]).

26 Capt Christopher B. Batts intvw, 6 January 2005

(MCHC); SSgt Scott J. Beretz intvw, 23 March 2005

(MCHC).

27 Beretz intvw; Rifle opsum. 28 Beretz intvw. 29 Rifle opsum; LtCol Craig S. Kozeniesky intvw, 15

October 2004 (MCHC). 30 Rifle opsum. 31 Rifle opsum; MSgt Keith E. Oakes intvw, 11 January 2005 (MCHC); Cederholm intvw; Cederholm

award citation.

32 Rifle opsum; Capt Eric N. Thompson intvw, 14 October 2004 (MCHC).

33 Rifle opsum; Conrad intvw.

34 Ruby opsum; GySgt Andre K. Bosier intvw, 24

March 2005; Tyrell award citation.

35 Ruby opsum.

36 MCSOCom Det One ComdC, 1 July–31 December

2004 (Gray Research Center, Quantico VA).

ComdC, 1 July–31 December 2004; Weekly sitrep 041.

37 ComdC, 1 July–31 December 2004. 38 Capt Stephen V. Fiscus intvw, 17 November 2004

(MCHC).

39 Ibid. 40 Ibid. 41 Maj M. Wade Priddy intvw, 13 October 2004

(MCHC).

Chapter 8

1 MCSOCom Det One ComdC, 1 July–31 December

2004 (Gray Research Center [GRC], Quantico VA). Although the command chronology states the final

flight returned on 2 October, Col Coates remembers

it as 6 October.

2 Author’s notes on Naval Special Warfare Command

AAR, 17 November 2004.

3 Det One ComdC, 1 July–31 December 2004.

4 Col Coates’ emails to author, 22 August 2006, about

manuscript draft 4. Det One’s future might have been

determined before the Warfighter conference. LtGen

Jan C. Huly stated that “there was never a plan for
this unit to continue that I know of. It was a one-time

proof of concept. . . . We put it up, we formed this

thing, let’s see how it will work. And it was never

planned on it becoming a permanent entity in the

Marine Corps that I know of.” LtGen Jan C. Huly

intvw, 31 July0 2006 (Marine Corps Historical Center

[MCHC]).

5 Det One ComdC, 1 July–31 December 2004.

6 Det One ComdC, 1 January–30 June 2005 (GRC).

7 Department of Defense, Secretary of Defense Memorandum, 4 February 2005. 8 MCSOCOM Proof of Concept Deployment Evaluation

Report (Hurlburt Field, FL: Joint Special Operations

University, 2005), App. C (hereafter JSOU study).

9 JSOU study, conclusion, p. II.

10 JSOU study, conclusion, p. III. 11 MCSOCOM Det: Analysis of Service Costs and Considerations (Arlington, VA: Center for Naval Analyses,

2005), conclusions, p. 55. 12 Maj Priddy’s email to author et al., 12 December

2005, with JSOU study attached.

13 Det One ComdC, 1 January–30 June 2005. 14 Huly intvw. 15 LtCol Francis L. Donovan intvw, 24 March 2006

(MCHC).

16 Det One ComdC, 1 January–30 June 2005. 17 Det One ComdC 1 July–31 December 2005 (GRC). 18 Col Coates’ emails to author, 22 August 2006. 19 5400 deactivation bulletin, 060043Z FEB 06; Capt

Sheehan email to author, 7 February 2006. 20 Det One Final ComdC (GRC).

Epilogue

1 LtCol Francis L. Donovan intvw, 24Mar06 (MCHC).

2 Col Coates e-mails to author, 22 August 2006.

3 Joint Special Operations University study, “Findings,” 4-5.

4 LtGen Jan C. Huly intvw, 31Jul06 (Marine Corps Historical Center [MCHC]).

106 DET ONE
107

Commanding Officer

Col Robert J. Coates 01 March 2003–10 March 2006

Executive Officer

LtCol Craig S. Kozeniesky 17 March 2003–15 April 2005

LtCol Francis L. Donovan 16 April 2005–10 March 2006

Senior Enlisted

MSgt James R. Rutan 17 June 2003–31 March 2005

MGySgt Thomas P. Muratori 01 April 2005–10 March 2006

Adjutant

GySgt Jeffrey King 20 June 2003–16 January 2004

SSgt Barrett M. Rhodes 17 January 04–06 July 05

SSgt Jesus Garcia 07 July 2005–10 March 2006

Intelligence Officer and Intelligence Element Leader

Maj M. Gerald Carter 24 March 2003–10 March 2006

Intelligence Chief

MSgt Bret A. Hayes 03 March 2003–10 March 2006

Counterintelligence Officer

Capt Christopher B. Batts 19 February 2003–31 December 2004

Operations Officer

LtCol Craig S. Kozeniesky 17 Mar 2003–30 June 2004

Maj M. Wade Priddy 01 July 2004–10 March 2006

Assistant Operations Officer

Capt Stephen V. Fiscus 01 July 2004–29 November 2004

Captain Eric N. Thompson 29 November 2004–31 December 2004

Operations Chief

MSgt James R. Rutan 17 June 2003–30 June 2004

MSgt Thomas P. Muratori 01 July 2004–10 March 2006

Fires Officer

Maj M. Wade Priddy 21 March 2003–30 June 2004

Maj Thomas P. Dolan 01 July 2004–31 December 2005

Capt Daniel B. Sheehan III 01 January 2005–10 March 2006

Appendix A

Command and Staff List 
Air Officer

Maj Thomas P. Dolan 01 March 2003–31 December 2004

Capt Daniel B. Sheehan III 01 January 2005–10 March 2006

Logistics Officer

Capt Matthew H. Kress 01 March 2003–31 December 2005

Logistics Chief

GySgt Monty K. Genegabus 07 May 2003–12 August 2005

GySgt Jaime Maldonado 13 August 2005–10 March 2006

Supply Officer

Maj Ronald J. Rux 02 June–30 August 2003

Capt Olufemi A. Harrison 19 September 2003–10 March 2006

Communications Officer

GySgt James A. Wagner 09 June 2003–5 May 2005

GySgt Ryan P. Keeler 06 May 2005–10 March 2006

Reconnaissance Element Leader

Capt Eric N. Thompson 28 February 2003–29 November 2004

Capt Stephen V. Fiscus 29 November 2004–31 January 2006

108 DET ONE
109

2001

9 November 2001 Commandant of the Marine Corps signs a memorandum of agreement with the commander of SOCom to reestablish the SOCom/USMC Board to examine enhanced interoperability between the two forces in the wake of the 11 September attacks.

2002

22–24 January 2002 Lieutenant Colonel Giles Kyser proposes a Marine force contribution to SOCom during the meeting of the SOCom/USMC Board.

5–7 March 2002 Naval Special Warfare Command, as executive agent for SOCom, hosts a conference

to discuss the nature of the Marine force contribution to SOCom.

4 December 2002 Commandant of the Marine Corps directs the activation of Marine Corps Special Operations Command Detachment for a two-year proof-of-concept operation with

SOCom.

2003

20 February 2003 Deputy Commandant of the Marine Corps for Plans, Policies and Operations signs a

memorandum of agreement with the deputy commander of SOCom to delineate the

scope and nature of the initial Marine force contribution to SOCom.

1 March 2003 Personnel for the command element begin to report for duty to Camp Pendleton, California; Detachment One headquarters are temporarily housed in the offices of I MEF

Special Operations Training Group.

20 June 2003 Marine Corps Special Operations Command Detachment One is activated in a ceremony at the unit’s new compound at Camp Del Mar, Camp Pendleton, California.

1 July 2003 Detachment One begins unit training phase.

14–26 September 03 Detachment One conducts its first full unit training exercise at Marine Corps Mountain Warfare Training Center, Bridgeport, California.

6–24 October 2003 Reconnaissance Element conducts close quarters battle training at Range 130, Camp

Pendleton, California.

1 December 2003 Detachment One transfers from Marine Forces Pacific to the operational control of

Naval Special Warfare Command in accordance with the 20 February memorandum

of agreement and in preparation for deployment.

1–19 December 2003 Detachment One conducts its Capstone Exercise, evaluating the unit’s full spectrum

of operational capabilities at the Department of Energy’s Nevada Test Site.

Appendix B

Chronology of Significant Events
2004

13–16 January 2004 Detachment One senior leadership travels to Qatar, Bahrain and Iraq for pre-deployment site survey.

22–29 February 2004 Detachment One, as part of Naval Special Warfare Squadron, conducts a pre-deployment certification exercise at Edwards Air Force Base, California; personnel from

the detachment staff and intelligence element augment the squadron’s capabilities;

the reconnaissance element remains intact as a separate task unit.

6 April 2004 Detachment One deploys to Iraq, establishing a base of operations near Baghdad International Airport; selected personnel from the intelligence element are detached to

serve with outlying task units and with other government agencies; the remainder of

the detachment forms Task Unit Raider under Naval Special Warfare Task GroupArabian Peninsula, and commences direct action raids and other operations.

28 May 2004 Commanding Officer Naval Special Warfare Task Group-Arabian Peninsula receives

orders to shift operations and provide personal security details to the four principal

figures of the interim Iraqi government; Task Unit Raider Marines are assigned to

protect one of the two Iraqi vice-presidents.

3 June 2004 Commanding Officer Naval Special Warfare Task Group-Arabian Peninsula reconstitutes Task Unit Raider for offensive operations; a small liaison cell is sent to the

GROM, the Polish special forces unit, which is then constituted as Task Unit Thunder. 

8 June 2004 Task Unit Raider executes “Objective Razor,” the third in a series of three raids on a

high-value target, in which the complete spectrum of the task-organized capabilities

of the detachment were fully employed. 

11–17 August 2004 Marines from Task Unit Raider reinforce U.S. Army Special Forces units in al-Kut,

providing sniper, intelligence and fires support in operations against Shi’a militias;

their support enabled coalition forces to help the governor of al-Kut rid the city of

enemy forces and reestablish his authority.

17–30 August 2004 Marines from Task Unit Raider reinforce U.S. Army cavalry units in an-Najaf, providing sniper, intelligence and fires support in operations against Shi’a militias; their

support enabled coalition forces to compel the Mahdi Militia to cease operations and

withdraw from the key city.

30 August 2004 Task Unit Raider, in conjunction with Task Unit Thunder, executes a daylight raid into

Baghdad to capture or kill a high-value target, “Objective Rifle,” who had been

tracked for five months; the raid is successful and all forces withdraw without casualties.

2 October 2004 Naval Special Warfare Task Group-Arabian Peninsula stands down from operations;

Detachment One reconstitutes and redeploys to Camp Pendleton, California; the unit

commences sustainment training and examination of future employment options.

17 November 2004 Detachment One leadership briefs after action report and lessons learned to ComNavSpecWar at Coronado, California.

110 DET ONE
Appendix B 111

1 December 2004 Detachment One leadership briefs lessons learned and recommended courses of action for the future at the USMC/SOCom Warfighter Conference.

4 February 2004 Two-year proof-of-concept phase expires; Detachment One continues sustainment

training and examination of employment options.

2006

6 February 2006 Commandant of the Marine Corps directs the deactivation of Marine Corps Special

Operations Command Detachment no later than 1 April 2006.

10 March 2006 Marine Corps Special Operations Command Detachment deactivates in a ceremony

at the unit’s compound at Camp Del Mar, Camp Pendleton, California.
112 DET ONE
113

Lineage

2003–2006

Activated 1 March 2003 at Camp Pendleton, California, as

Marine Corps U.S. Special Operations Detachment

Participated in Operation Iraqi Freedom, Iraq, April-October 2004

Deactivated 10 March 2006

Honors

Navy Unit Commendation Streamer

Arabian Peninsula

2004–2006

Meritorious Unit Commendation Streamer

2003–2004

National Defense Service Streamer

Global War on Terrorism Expeditionary Streamer

Global War on Terrorism Service Streamer

Appendix C

Lineage and Honors
114 DET ONE
115

Bronze Star:

SSgt Scott J. Beretz (w/V)

HM1 Robert T. Bryan (w/V)

Maj M. Gerald Carter

Col Robert J. Coates

GySgt James A. Crawford (w/V)

GySgt John A. Dailey (w/V)

Maj Thomas P. Dolan

Capt Stephen V. Fiscus

GySgt Ryan P. Keeler

LtCol Craig S. Kozeniesky (w/V)

MSgt Keith E. Oakes (w/V)

MSgt Charles H. Padilla

Capt Daniel B. Sheehan III (w/V)

Capt Eric N. Thompson (w/V)

GySgt Matthew A. Ulmer

SSgt Daniel L. Williams

MSgt Terry M. Wyrick (w/V)

Meritorious Service Medal:

Capt Christopher B. Batts

Maj M. Gerald Carter

MSgt Victor M. Church

Maj Thomas P. Dolan

GySgt Monty K. Genegabus

MSgt Hays B. Harrington

MSgt Bret A. Hayes

LtCol Craig S. Kozeniesky

MSgt Joseph L. Morrison

MGySgt Thomas P. Muratori

GySgt Kenneth C. Pinckard

Maj M. Wade Priddy

MSgt James R. Rutan

GySgt James E. Wagner

Navy and Marine Corps

Commendation Medal:

SSgt Jason M. Bagstad

SSgt Terry L. Beckwith Jr.

SSgt Chad E. Berry

Sgt Stephen J. Bolden

SSgt Glen S. Cederholm (w/ V)

SSgt Benjamin J. Cushing (w/ V)

GySgt Stephen C. Davis (w/ V)

Sgt Benjamin J. Dreher

SSgt Stuart C. Earl

GySgt Monty K. Genebagus (w/ V)

Sgt Victor M. Guerra

GySgt Tyler M. Hammel

Capt Olufemi A. Harrison

GySgt Christopher E. Haug

SSgt Patrick M. Hegeman

GySgt William M. Johnston

GySgt Jack A. Kelly (w/ V)

GySgt Jason T. Kennedy

SSgt David T. Kirby (w/ V)

GySgt Mark S. Kitashima

WO Michael L. Kuker

Sgt Joseph B. Mooring

Sgt Michael C. Mulvihill

SSgt William B. Parker (w/ V)

HM1 Matthew S. Pranka (w/ V)

SSgt Barrett M. Rhodes

SSgt Frederick L. Riano. III

HM1 Michael D. Tyrell (w/ V)

CWO2 Kevin E. Vicinus

GySgt Fidencio Villalobos Jr. (w/ V)

GySgt Sidney J. Voss (w/ V)

Navy and Marine Corps Achievement Medal

Sgt Russell T. Cook

Sgt Christopher J. Houston

SSgt David T. Kirby

Sgt Frankie Lebron

GySgt Jaime Maldonado 

Sgt Michael C. Mulvihill

SSgt Jaime J. Sierra

Cpl Oscar Vazquez

SSgt Adam C. Wallman

Appendix D

Individual Awards
116 DET ONE
117

Appendix E

Navy Unit Commendation Citation
118 DET ONE
119

Appendix F

Meritorious Unit Commendation
120 DET ONE
121

Cervantes, Sergeant Miguel A., 76, 80, 82, 83, 84

Church, Gunnery Sergeant Victor M., 26

Clark, Gunnery Sergeant Travis W., 81, 82

Clausewitz, Carl P.G. von, 31

Coates, Colonel Robert J., v, 14, 17, 18, 20, 21, 23, 24,

25, 26, 27, 29, 31, 32, 33, 34, 39, 41, 48, 49, 62,

63, 64, 69, 71, 91, 94, 95, 96, 99

Coleman, Colonel John C., 64

Conrad, Staff Sergeant Alex N., 37, 58, 83, 87

Conway, Lieutenant General James T., 63

Cooney, Mary, 13

Crawford, Gunnery Sergeant James A., 60, 61, 72, 73,

97

Cushing, Staff Sergeant Benjamin J., 41

Dailey, Master Sergeant John A., 20, 21, 25, 34, 36,

37, 44, 51, 53, 55, 65, 79, 81, 82, 83, 96

Desert One (Iran), 1

Djibouti, 35

Dolan, Major Thomas P., 22, 31, 35, 36, 38, 44, 45,

48, 67, 96

Donovan, Lieutenant Colonel Francis L., 23, 95, 96

Earl, Staff Sergeant Stuart C., 25

El Salvador, 14, 63, 71

Al-Fallujah, Iraq, 47, 50, 62, 63, 71

Fallujah Brigade, 18, 63

Fiscus, Captain Stephen V., 19, 31, 42, 48, 65, 88, 89,

91, 96

Genegabus, Gunnery Sergeant Monty K., 19, 33, 34,

35, 96

Goodman, Lieutenant General John F., 96

Gray, General Alfred M., 2, 3, 4, 5

Gregson, Lieutenant General Wallace C., 95

Index

Abu Ghraib prison (Iraq), 50, 57, 61

Afghanistan, 13, 17, 20, 21, 28, 34, 43, 60

American Rifleman, 17, 27

Al-Anbar Province, Iraq, 47, 70, 77

Anderson, Sergeant Daryl J., 60, 61

Arnold, Hospital Corpsman First Class Michael I.

(USN), 21

Baghdad, Iraq, 43, 47, 49, 50, 52, 53, 56, 57, 58, 60,

61, 62, 65, 67, 68, 71, 72, 75, 77, 78, 79, 87, 88

Bagstad, Staff Sergeant Jason M., 26

Baker, Staff Sergeant Chadwick D., 21, 53, 76, 80, 82,

83, 85, 97

Balkans, 5, 60

Bargewell, Major General Eldon A. (USA), 7, 11

Batts, Captain Christopher B., 24, 48, 52, 55, 56, 57,

73, 86, 96

Bedard, Lieutenant General Emil R., 7, 8, 10, 14

Benedict, Sergeant William S., 60, 61, 76

Beretz, Staff Sergeant Scott J., 56, 57, 67, 69, 70, 74,

75, 86, 87

Berg, Nicholas E., 58

Berry, Staff Sergeant Chad E., 49

Bosier, Gunnery Sergeant Andre K., 87

Bosnia, 5

Brackley, Sergeant Jason V., 80

Brown, General Bryan D., 43, 91, 93

Brown, Colonel Larry K., 63

Bryan, Hospital Corpsman First Class Robert T.

(USN), 21, 59, 79, 81

Burma, 20

Calland, Vice Admiral Albert M. III (USN), 29

Carter, Major M. Gerald “Jerry,” 23, 24, 25, 26, 32, 33,

41, 43, 44, 45, 48, 50, 51, 55, 56, 57, 73, 78, 86, 96

Cederholm, Staff Sergeant Glen S., 59, 87
Grupa Reagowania Operacyjno Manewrowego

(GROM), 47, 51, 52, 65, 67, 75, 78, 88, 89, 93, 100,

110, 

Guerra, Sergeant Victor M., 18, 20, 28, 39, 41, 49, 96

Hagee, General Michael W., 14, 17, 91, 93

Hailston, Lieutenant General Earl B., 29

Hand, Colonel Paul A., 7, 8, 11, 12, 13, 14, 29

Harrington, Master Sergeant Hays B., 23, 53, 59, 61,

69, 77, 97

Harris, Staff Sergeant Kevin J., 69

Harrison, Captain Olufemi A., 24, 96

Haug, Sergeant Christopher E., 76

Hayes, Master Sergeant Bret A., 23, 62, 72, 97

Al-Hayy, Iraq, 76

Hejlik, Brigadier General Dennis J., 13, 29

Holland, General Charles R. (USAF), 8

Horn of Africa, 28, 43

Huly, Lieutenant General Jan C., 100

Husaybah, Iraq, 62

Hussein, Colonel Khalis Ali, 71

Hussein, Saddam, 71, 78, 87

Irbil, Iraq, 65

Johnston, Gary Paul, 27

Johnston, Gunnery Sergeant William M., 51, 52, 55, 78

Jones, General James L., Jr., 8, 9, 11, 31

Keeler, Gunnery Sergeant Ryan P., 22, 23, 79, 81, 82,

83

Kelley, General Paul X., 2, 3, 4, 5, 29, 99

Kelly, Staff Sergeant Jack A., 36, 37, 80, 83, 96

Kennedy, Gunnery Sergeant Jason T., 49

Kingdon, Staff Sergeant Andrew T., 58, 59

Kirkuk, Iraq, 57

Kitashima, Gunnery Sergeant Mark S., 26, 27, 33, 37,

96

Korea, 2

Kozeniesky, Major Craig S., 19, 20, 31, 34, 35, 38, 42,

43, 44, 45, 48, 50, 51, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 60, 66, 67,

68, 69, 70, 75, 77, 78, 85, 86, 87, 91, 94, 96

Kress, Captain Matthew H., 19, 24, 25, 31, 43, 49, 96

Krueger, Staff Sergeant D. T., 81

Kurdistan, 57, 65

Al-Kut, Iraq, 75, 76, 77, 78, 93, 100

Kyser, Lieutenant Colonel J. Giles, IV, v, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10,

11, 12, 13, 14, 23, 75, 77

Laplume, Jonathan, 25, 39

Leighty, Jason, 76

Maguire, Rear Admiral Joseph (USN), 91

Mahmudiyah, Iraq, 77

Maldonado, Gunnery Sergeant Jaime, 26, 34, 35, 38,

88, 97

Marine Corps Gazette, 7

Marine Corps Times, 17

Marnell, Sergeant David D., 53, 76, 81, 82, 83, 84

McHaty, Captain Rodrick H., 63

Meacham, Charles, 29, 96

Merle, Robert, 13

Mitchell, Master Sergeant Troy G., 9, 10, 11, 12, 13,

18, 23

Mogadishu, Somalia, 6

Morrison, Master Sergeant Joseph L., 20, 37, 53, 54,

57, 69

Mulvihill, Sergeant Michael C., 79

Muratori, Master Sergeant Thomas P., 19, 34, 96

Myler, Christian W., 34, 48

An-Najaf, Iraq, 79, 82, 84, 93, 100

National Defense Magazine, 17

Natonski, Major General Richard F., 96

Netherlands, 20

Oakes, Master Sergeant Keith E., 21, 33, 34, 37, 42, 43,

53, 59, 87

O’Grady, Captain Scott (USAF), 5

Padilla, Master Sergeant Charles H., 20, 31, 34, 35, 37,

40, 53, 55, 56, 76, 82, 83, 96

Parker, Staff Sergeant William B., 60, 61, 72, 97

Parsons, Gunnery Sergeant William G., 73, 86

122 DET ONE
Index 123

al-Sistani, Ayatollah Sayyid Ali Husseini, 84

Somalia, 5

Stars and Stripes, 17

SWAT Magazine, 17, 27

Thompson, Captain Eric N., 20, 21, 33, 35, 38, 39, 65, 

75, 77, 79, 87, 96

Toolan, Colonel John A., 18

Toothaker, Gunnery Sergeant Adam C., 23

Tyrell, Hospital Corpsman First Class Michael D.

(USN), 21, 59, 87

Ulmer, Gunnery Sergeant Matthew A., 24, 62, 70, 72

Vicinus, Warrant Officer Kevin E., 24, 53

Vietnam, 2

Villalobos, Gunnery Sergeant Fidencio, Jr., 22, 80, 81,

82, 84, 88, 96

Voss, Gunnery Sergeant Sidney J., 21, 37

Wagner, Gunnery Sergeant James E., 19, 20, 96

Weinberger, Secretary of Defense Caspar W., 1, 4

Westphal, Michael A., 13, 29

Williams, Staff Sergeant Daniel L., 60, 61, 73

Wilson, Commander William W. (USN), vi, 41, 44, 45,

47, 48, 50, 51, 52, 54, 55, 64, 65, 86, 89, 91, 93, 100

Wyrick, Master Sergeant Terry M., 20, 37, 45, 53, 58,

59, 79, 80, 81, 85, 96

al-Zarqawi, Abu Musab, 77

Philippine Islands, 28

Pinckard, Gunnery Sergeant Kenneth C., 23, 41, 45,

97

Pranka, Hospital Corpsman First Class Matthew S.

(USN), 21, 40, 69, 77, 80

Priddy, Major M. Wade, 22, 44, 45, 48, 55, 71, 89, 91,

96, 97

Al-Qaim, Iraq, 62

Ar-Ramadi, Iraq, 62

Reeves, Staff Sergeant Zachary A., 77

Repass, Colonel Michael S. (USA), 93

Riano, Staff Sergeant Frederick L., III, 24

Rogers, Patrick J., 23, 27

Rumsfeld, Secretary of Defense Donald H., 92, 93, 96

Rutan, Master Sergeant James R., 19, 25, 31, 42, 96

al-Sadr, Muqtada, 79, 82, 84

San Diego Union-Tribune, 17

Settelen, Master Gunnery Sergeant Joseph G., III, 9,

10, 11, 12, 13, 18, 23, 25, 39, 40, 42

al-Shahwani, Major General Mohammed Abdullah

Mohammed, 71

Shahwani Special Forces, 18, 71

Shaways, Rowsch, 65

Sheehan, Captain Daniel B., III, 35, 53, 76, 77, 82, 83,

84, 85, 96

Sierra, Staff Sergeant Jaime J., 26, 34, 35, 38, 88, 97

Sierra Leone, 8

Sine, Chief Hospital Corpsman Eric D. (USN), 21, 55
124 DET ONE
Cover: Det One prior to deploying to Iraq,

during the Capstone Exercise at Indian

Springs Auxiliary Airfield, Nevada, in

December 2003. Here members are being

briefed before the simulated and live-fire raid

mission. Detachment uniforms, weapons, and

equipment are shown to good advantage.

Photo courtesy of Patrick J. Rogers