bobdina
10-19-2009, 03:49 PM
'My hands were burning with his blood'
Silver Star
earned
1.23.05
while serving with
Task Force Phoenix
In the nearly five months Marine Capt. Brian Cillessen had been in Afghanistan, the bad guys’ tactic would be to hit hard and melt away.
That changed on Jan. 23, 2005.
Cillessen, 35, was an embedded trainer with Afghan troops in northeast Afghanistan, attached to a Special Forces detachment that fell under Task Force Phoenix.
Afghan troops had found several large weapons caches, causing al-Qaida and Islamic militants to stir from their winter siesta, said Cillessen, of Aztec, N.M. And recently, some members of the Afghan security forces had been killed by a roadside bomb.
On this day in January, Cillessen and the Afghan troops had hired 60 donkeys to take away part of a large weapons cache, he said.
The local authorities were cooperative, but in hindsight, they seemed to know something was up, he said.
“They had a feeling that something would happen to us also because no one wanted to talk to us for very long.”
On the way back, the Afghan troops sent some soldiers ahead of the main convoy, but their vehicle broke down.
“We caught up to them about the time we got to the kill zone for the ambush,” Cillessen said.
The 45 Afghan commandos and four U.S. servicemembers were on a road flanked on both sides by steep mountain slopes when al-Qaida and other Islamic militants fired a volley of rocket-propelled grenades, disabling the vehicle in front of his, Cillessen said.
The coalition troops and bad guys were separated by a river.
“My initial instinct was to return fire and kill as many of the enemy as possible before they have a chance to withdraw,” he said, but after 10 minutes of sustained RPG fire, he realized the bad guys were not going away.
“We started to gain fire superiority. It looked like we had things well in hand, and then the casualties started to mount in our unit.”
One Afghan soldier was dead; more were wounded.
Just as they moved to leave the kill zone, the enemy opened fire from the rear. Now they were in serious trouble.
“Afterwards, one Marine said when that happened, he thought he was going to throw up,” Cillessen said. “I can relate to that, because my stomach was in my throat at the time.”
For a moment, he thought there was no way out.
But then an Afghan soldier, Sgt. Abdullah, began directing Marines’ fire, and grabbed Cillessen and led him to the middle of the road.
“I remember thinking to myself, he can’t be serious — he wants me to go where?”
But Abdullah had led him to a better position where he could fire at the enemy. He could now see all of the enemy; the downside was there was no cover.
That didn’t seem to faze Abdullah, which reassured Cillessen.
“He looked at me, and the confidence he had, and I thought, ‘it can’t be that bad because he’s been fighting his whole life.’ ”
So Cillessen started firing grenades at the enemy as Abdullah patted him on the back and told him where to aim.
Another Marine who was at the scene later told Cillessen that he seemed to disappear in a cloud of dust and tracers.
Cillessen eventually fired some 40 grenades until he ran out, all the while taking fire. He was OK, but Abdullah was hit.
Cillessen said he raced back to a vehicle to try to give him first aid, but it was clear Abdullah had been mortally wounded.
“My hands were burning with his blood,” Cillessen said.
At that point, he had to make a decision: continue to try to save Abdullah or get the rest of the coalition troops out of the kill zone.
Cillessen laid Abdullah down and told the other Afghan troops to get ready to move.
“I just told him I was sorry,” Cillessen said.
Then a Marine and several Afghan troops moved one of the disabled vehicles out of the way, allowing the rest of the vehicles to finally get out of the kill zone after close to an hour, he said.
Cillessen may have been given the Silver Star for his actions, but he says Abdullah was the hero that day.
“He inspired all of us to fight harder.
Silver Star
earned
1.23.05
while serving with
Task Force Phoenix
In the nearly five months Marine Capt. Brian Cillessen had been in Afghanistan, the bad guys’ tactic would be to hit hard and melt away.
That changed on Jan. 23, 2005.
Cillessen, 35, was an embedded trainer with Afghan troops in northeast Afghanistan, attached to a Special Forces detachment that fell under Task Force Phoenix.
Afghan troops had found several large weapons caches, causing al-Qaida and Islamic militants to stir from their winter siesta, said Cillessen, of Aztec, N.M. And recently, some members of the Afghan security forces had been killed by a roadside bomb.
On this day in January, Cillessen and the Afghan troops had hired 60 donkeys to take away part of a large weapons cache, he said.
The local authorities were cooperative, but in hindsight, they seemed to know something was up, he said.
“They had a feeling that something would happen to us also because no one wanted to talk to us for very long.”
On the way back, the Afghan troops sent some soldiers ahead of the main convoy, but their vehicle broke down.
“We caught up to them about the time we got to the kill zone for the ambush,” Cillessen said.
The 45 Afghan commandos and four U.S. servicemembers were on a road flanked on both sides by steep mountain slopes when al-Qaida and other Islamic militants fired a volley of rocket-propelled grenades, disabling the vehicle in front of his, Cillessen said.
The coalition troops and bad guys were separated by a river.
“My initial instinct was to return fire and kill as many of the enemy as possible before they have a chance to withdraw,” he said, but after 10 minutes of sustained RPG fire, he realized the bad guys were not going away.
“We started to gain fire superiority. It looked like we had things well in hand, and then the casualties started to mount in our unit.”
One Afghan soldier was dead; more were wounded.
Just as they moved to leave the kill zone, the enemy opened fire from the rear. Now they were in serious trouble.
“Afterwards, one Marine said when that happened, he thought he was going to throw up,” Cillessen said. “I can relate to that, because my stomach was in my throat at the time.”
For a moment, he thought there was no way out.
But then an Afghan soldier, Sgt. Abdullah, began directing Marines’ fire, and grabbed Cillessen and led him to the middle of the road.
“I remember thinking to myself, he can’t be serious — he wants me to go where?”
But Abdullah had led him to a better position where he could fire at the enemy. He could now see all of the enemy; the downside was there was no cover.
That didn’t seem to faze Abdullah, which reassured Cillessen.
“He looked at me, and the confidence he had, and I thought, ‘it can’t be that bad because he’s been fighting his whole life.’ ”
So Cillessen started firing grenades at the enemy as Abdullah patted him on the back and told him where to aim.
Another Marine who was at the scene later told Cillessen that he seemed to disappear in a cloud of dust and tracers.
Cillessen eventually fired some 40 grenades until he ran out, all the while taking fire. He was OK, but Abdullah was hit.
Cillessen said he raced back to a vehicle to try to give him first aid, but it was clear Abdullah had been mortally wounded.
“My hands were burning with his blood,” Cillessen said.
At that point, he had to make a decision: continue to try to save Abdullah or get the rest of the coalition troops out of the kill zone.
Cillessen laid Abdullah down and told the other Afghan troops to get ready to move.
“I just told him I was sorry,” Cillessen said.
Then a Marine and several Afghan troops moved one of the disabled vehicles out of the way, allowing the rest of the vehicles to finally get out of the kill zone after close to an hour, he said.
Cillessen may have been given the Silver Star for his actions, but he says Abdullah was the hero that day.
“He inspired all of us to fight harder.