"Eagle 15, put on Psywar up and make it loud."
It’s the 23rd of February 1991.
"Shall we dance?"
The 2nd Armored Cavalry Regiment charges through the Iraqi border in Operation Desert Storm.
Amidst the stampede of armor, Captain Herbert Raymond McMaster stands proudly atop his M1A1 Abrams,
leading Eagle Troop into battle.
After so much waiting, it’s finally showtime.
The column of American tanks drives into enemy territory with no resistance whatsoever,
defensive positions are being dealt with by other units and the poor Iraqi conscripts surrender en masse.
"Stop showing off"
The 2nd ACR even comes across a group of lone and unarmed Iraqis walking aimlessly across the desert.
"Did they just wave at us?"
The men are surprised as the enemy cheers them on.
They advance and maneuver nearly unimpeded for 2 full days.
But that won’t last forever.
Somewhere out there to the east the Tawakalna Republican Guard lies in wait,
a much more loyal unit that will not surrender so easily.
The 2nd ACR are tasked with hunting them down.
The men awake the following day to miserable weather.
A sandstorm has rolled in overnight greatly reducing visibility.
"Holy shit, what beautiful weather!
Skog, wanna go outside?"
"I'm good, thanks"
"All right, how are the Eagles doing?
Anyone?"
"Waiting for orders, sir"
"What’s the plan?"
“Ok, here it is, gentlemen. In a moment we will receive permission to carry the attack forward.”
We push to the 70 Easting."
"Only six miles?"
"Yep, and don't engage. We find the enemy,
we step aside and allow the 1st Infantry Division and 3rd Armored Division behind us to take them on.
Should be easy, but you know anything can happen.
Stand by for orders. Out."
His men don’t have to be told twice;
the entire troop is itching for action.
And sure enough, the go-ahead promptly arrives.
“Battle Stations. Battle Stations. This is Black 6.
The word has been given. Red 1, execute.”
“Roger 6, executing now.”
"I feel the need, the need for speed."
‘Matt, you know that's 5 dollars in the drink box for any film quotes."
"Oh c’mon, I love the smell of napalm in the morning."
‘That’s 10!’
The engines roar and whirl to life, and six M2 Bradleys from the 1st Platoon drive past the line of Abrams,
taking their positions at the front
as the entirety of the 2nd ACR moves through the sandstorm in a miles-long formation.
Pushing into the unknown.
McMaster hunkers down, observing the battlefield with his thermal sight, but nothing appears.
Suddenly there are loud explosions up ahead.
McMaster and the rest of his men sweep the area with their binoculars and thermals.
There are no contacts, but they quickly find the source.
Its airburst artillery exploding in the air and raining shrapnel all across the ground.
McMaster doesn’t need to say anything,
all on their own, the Bradleys and Abrams break the line to drive around the area of impact.
A sense of pride fills McMaster, his boys are acting exactly as they’ve been trained.
The artillery is evaded and the line reforms as they push on.
It’s not long before something else catches his eye.
Figures emerge through the haze.
Buildings.
McMaster narrows his eyes, thinking.
This village looks off, there is no farm, pen, or any type of infrastructure to sustain a home.
This, he thinks, must be an Iraqi outpost.
"Village, direct front! One round HEAT at my command.
The loader slams a High Explosive Anti Tank shell into the breach.
The “anti-tank” component won’t be of much use.
"Up!"
But the explosives are exactly what they need.
"Ready? Report!"
The tank’s massive 120mm gun aims square at the structures.
But McMaster doesn’t fire just yet.
He waits as his line gets closer, looking for civilians.
Up and down the line the rest of the tanks prepare to level the position,
but still they wait, for they see no evidence that the buildings belong to anyone at all.
Suddenly muzzle flashes shine from the windows
and low caliber bullets start raining down on the armored vehicles.
"Fire! Fire!"
McMaster’s Abrams opens fire with a thunderous explosion.
The round flies through the air, its aim impeccable.
It hits the wall and detonates, reducing the building to rubble.
The impact marks the target for the 8 other battle tanks, and their guns aim at the same construction.
"Ready!
Fire!"
The 9 Abrams fire almost in unison with a deafening blast.
In an instant the buildings explode into a cloud of rubble and dust,
violently silencing the small arms fire.
Meanwhile, on the very edge of their formation, Bradleys Eagle 13 and 16 spot two Iraqi T-72s sitting in ambush
with their thermal viewfinders.
"Do we engage?"
Chills travel down the spine of the vehicle commanders.
"Why are they still?"
"I don't think they see us."
Had the sandstorm not been covering their advance, they are unlikely to have won this showdown.
But as it is the enemy’s lack of thermals keeps them blind in the storm,
while the Bradleys can see them crystal clear.
The Bradley’s turret spins to face the enemy,
a pair of TOW anti-tank missiles at the ready.
The missile fires off its launcher, pulling a spool of wire along with it.
From inside the gunner keeps his crosshairs on the enemy tank,
the computer guiding the missile through the wire and keeping it flying straight on the crosshair.
From the sight it looks like licks of flame hanging in the air for a few fleeting moments.
The T-72 detonates with force as its turret flies sky-high.
The second Bradley fires off a second missile aimed for the remaining enemy.
The Iraqi crew barely reacted to the destruction of their companion
when they meet the same fate.
“The turret of this T-72 came off and was flipping like a bottle cap in the air,
and when it landed, the whole thing burst into flames.
I remember thinking, holy, how can a piece of metal burn like that?”
"Eagle 13, reporting contact"
The troop resumes the advance, leaving behind T-72 wrecks and the obliterated buildings.
"2 enemy tanks on the left flank. Targets eliminated."
McMaster knows these two tanks couldn’t be alone
and senses that they’re about to find exactly who they are looking for.
“Red 1, this is Black 6.
Swapping to tank-lead.
I repeat.
Changing to tank-lead”
The Bradleys slow to a stop and allow the better armored Abrams tanks to go first.
They form into an arrow formation, with McMaster proudly leading in the middle.
They reach their target of the 70th Easting,
but McMaster has a small crest up ahead blocking their view.
"Stay behind"
In flat terrain like this even small crests are crucial for visibility,
so without orders he pushes on just a little more.
His Abrams climbs the hill and rolls over the top of the crest.
Looking through his thermal sight, he watches as dozens of heat signatures come into view all at once.
They instantly meet a wall of dug in armor, trenches, and anti-tank weapons
all facing their advance.
“Tanks! Direct Front!”
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"Tanks! Direct front!"
It is a horrifying sight.
The plan of not engaging the enemy has gone straight out the window.
“Fire! Fire SABOT!”
“HEAT are already loaded”
The crosshairs immediately land on a T-72 1.4 kilometers away,
and the Abrams fires the first shot of Battle of 73 Easting.
But to McMaster’s surprise, the giant line of Iraqi defense does not immediately retaliate.
In the storm the Iraqi tanks are completely blind and have no idea about the multiple Abrams
actively rolling over their defensive embankment just a few hundred meters away.
They scramble to respond, crews running for their tanks,
diving into trenches, and fleeing to the rear.
It's chaos.
"Load SABOT!"
"Up!"
"Fire!"
The armour-piercing fin-stabilized discarding sabot round fires off the Abrams’ barrel,
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releasing a massive depleted uranium dart traveling at 1,575 meters every second.
It slams square on the enemy and it bursts into flames,
cutting through the armor like butter and setting it aflame.
McMaster continues to roll forward as the rest of his troop appears behind him.
Abrams tanks open fire indiscriminately as the T-72s start to fight back.
Rounds crash into the earth and zip over the Americans' heads.
McMaster’s driver, Christopher “Skog” Hedenskog,
watches nervously out the periscope as he drives towards the enemy.
He sees a muzzle flash from the front right
and a split second later a round slams into the earth right next to their fender.
McMaster’s men see the strike and fear he’s been hit,
“Black 6! Black 6! Are you hit?”
“Black 6! Black 6!”
But then Skog spots a second T-72 emerging into the sights of their Abrams.
"Hold on!"
He turns hard to the left, throwing off everyone in the turret.
They gather themselves and resume their positions,
"Sir, are you okay?"
McMaster takes a second longer, he's hit his head on the edge of the cupola,
completely missing the radio transmission calling for him.
“Black 6, do you copy?”
With their leader in silence and seemingly having taken a second enemy round,
a desperate Red 1 takes the initiative.
“This is Red 1; Black 6 is down;
I'm taking over. Follow my lead.”
Listening to this on the radio, Skog calls for his commander.
“Sir! Get up on the net, Red 1 just took over.”
McMaster realizes what is happening and he's quick to clear up the confusion.
“This is Black 6, we’re alive! I’m retaking command.”
Meanwhile, outside is a flurry of sand, smoke, and fire.
Enemy rounds keep missing the Abrams as they charge through the desert.
On the Iraqi side everything is in pure chaos.
The Abrams roll past the shell-shocked Iraqis,
firing round after round into the enemy armor.
The Bradleys behind fire their cannons at trenches and infantry,
struggling to distinguish between legitimate threats and defeated enemies.
Driver Matt Lee follows his unit under fire when a person appears in front of him.
Lee slams on the accelerator and steers towards him.
The Bradley barrels towards the soldier at speed.
The Iraqi is completely disoriented from the darkness of the storm and smoke of the battlefield,
unaware as his body rapidly fills Lee’s thermal imager…
The speeding Bradley roars by inches from the enemy.
Lee made a split-second decision and decided that this enemy was not a threat.
Elsewhere in the battle the advancing line of Bradleys are suddenly met with a column of tracers.
The bright bullets ricochet everywhere and two Bradleys focus on the source.
A ZSU 23-4 "Shilka" anti-aircraft gun inside a bunker.
They slow to a halt and the first anti-tank missile rockets off its launcher, zipping across the battlefield.
The anti-armor warhead detonates into the bunker, collapsing it.
A second anti-tank missile flies in moments after, slamming into the ZSU and setting it alight.
Across the line, the Bradley crews operate with incredible bravery.
The missiles cannot be fired on the move, so Bradleys have to stop under fire to engage enemy armor.
Eagle 31 comes to a halt while staring down the barrel of a reloading T-72.
The American gunner fires off his missile and strikes the Iraqi tank, exploding it into a ball of flame,
fractions of a second before it can do the same to the Bradley's crew.
Meanwhile, another Bradley, Eagle 36, have used up their pair of anti-tank missiles
and are still stuck in the middle of heavy fighting.
They need more if they’re to have a chance against the dozens of T-72s still somewhere out there in the dark.
"Tribble, give me some TOWs"
"On it!"
Scout Michael Tribble takes the missile tubes stowed in the rear
and opens up the roof hatch to reload them,
but the launcher is out of reach.
“Can you give me the turret on 5950?”
The turret needed to be rotated to 5950 mils to be able to reload from the hatch,
but Tribble hears the response:
“Negative! We’re stuck like this!”
The commander can't place the Bradley in a reloading position,
they need the gun and armor facing the enemy.
If Tribble is going to reload, he’s going to have to go outside and do it.
Tribble rushes out from safety.
He can hear the hiss of rifle bullets zipping across the air,
a few striking the Bradley’s armor with loud clangs.
But Tribble ignores it all,
He discards the old tubes and casings and begins mounting the new ones.
He hears the crack of bullets narrowly missing him,
but he keeps his nerve at a time where a slip up is the difference between life and death.
The missiles are reloaded and Tribble returns to the machine shouting
"Done! Go! Go!"
With that the roof hatch closes up, once more protecting Tribble from the chaos outside.
The Bradley, again, lurches to life, charging for combat.
Back at the front the battlefield gradually calms down.
Bradleys still fire their cannons amidst a flurry of small arms fire,
clearing out trenches and destroying equipment as the platoon drives through the wrecks of the enemy.
McMaster’s Executive Officer comes up on the radio reminding him
that 70 Easting was the limit of advance and they are way past it.
“I can't stop, we're still in contact.
Tell headquarters I'm sorry.”
He cuts the transmission and returns to the task at hand.
They’ve broken through their lines, but there has to be reserves somewhere in this storm.
It doesn’t take long for them to find them.
"I see them"
He spots a group of enemy tanks with his thermal sights
17 of them all in a circle.
They’ve attacked so fast the reserves haven’t even had time to get out of their parking spots.
McMaster orders all of the troop’s Abrams to bear.
"Ready? Report!"
They creep up on the enemy.
He can clearly see an Iraqi tank commander standing on his hatch.
The commander hears the Abrams and looks over his shoulder,
with an expression of utter horror on his face.
"Fire!"
In a flash the strength of Eagle Troop is unleashed at the stationary targets.
In just a minute all 17 of the T-72 tanks are reduced to scrap.
"Target destroyed.
The Bradleys in the rear continued to destroy enemy equipment and ammunition stashes,
but the battle was effectively over.
Anxiously, McMaster got on the radio to ask one question he feared the answer to.
"How many casualties?"
"No casualties to report."
They hadn’t just won;
they had crushed them.
In just 23 minutes this scouting force that wasn’t even meant to engage the enemy
had destroyed 50 T-72s, 25 armored personnel carriers, 40 trucks, and a multitude of other vehicles,
of the Tawakalna Republican Guard without losing a single man or vehicle.
McMaster would be awarded the Silver Star for his actions.
He's still alive today.
And we hope he watches and likes our video.
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