A new kind of fear

Soldier describes what it's like to be under enemy fire

Editor's note: Four years ago, U.S. forces invaded Iraq. Cathy Henderson of Naperville is sharing with Sun readers e-mails sent by her son, Jason, 23, a 2002 graduate of Naperville Central High School. In October, Jason - an Army private first class - began a yearlong stint in Iraq. He is stationed in Ramadi, the capital of Anbar province, a town about 100 miles west of Baghdad. The Sun will print his e-mails on Tuesdays and Fridays.

We continue with an e-mail Jason sent from Iraq to his mother in February.

From: hondo5321@aol.com

Sent: Date unknown

To: Henderson, Cathy

Got an early birthday present from the insurgents today. Got shot at for the first time in my life. I don't mean that the rounds came in my general direction, or that they shot at the group I was with. I mean that I personally got shot at.

I was sitting in the south window of the Hotel looking out over the Malaab. It was around 1800 and E was on shift with me. All of the sudden I saw muzzle flashes. One of them was coming from the far end of Front Door Alley. The other was coming from a rooftop of a house on the same street. I'm pretty sure that they were both AK's. I think that the one on the ground was shooting at me, while the one on the roof was shooting down at the door, aka OP Kidnap.

Once the information processed that I was looking at muzzle flashes I started to return fire with the SAW. I got off one burst at the guy on the ground and the weapon jammed up on me. I charged the weapon immediately, hoping to clear the jam. I squeezed again and only one round fired.

By this time both AK's were blazing away at me, and I realized that I was getting shot at. I could hear rounds impacting in the sandbags and I saw a tracer ricochet across the window. I cleared the weapon as fast as I could, and reloaded it. As I was finishing with this, a cloud of dust exploded up in my face. At the time it didn't really register what it was. Later I realized that it was a round impacting on the sandbag directly in front of me. I then proceeded to start firing again. I didn't see the muzzle flash from the roof any more, but the guy on the ground was still letting loose on me. So I returned the favor. I fired 3 or 4 solid volleys from the SAW.

Somewhere in the process the shooter quit firing back. Once I was certain that he was done, I stopped firing as well. By this time, I had a small crowd gathered behind me. Sgt T and Sgt H were both there with full gear on, looking for something to shoot. I pointed out where the rounds had been coming from, and Sgt H, looking like a little kid that didn't get any ice cream, walked back to the CP. Turns out that Sgt Thompson got hit in the head with a ricochet as he was coming in to check on where the fire was coming from. It wasn't enough to break the skin, but he said it hurt like hell. Once he left Sgt's N, S, and D all came in, looking to get in on the action.

Apparently, I hollered out "What the *%&$" at some point when I was trying to clear the jam in the weapon. I remember saying it, but certainly didn't think I yelled. But they said that I could be heard down the hall in the CP. It wasn't until after the firing was done and I sat down that I realized how close those rounds were coming. The cloud of dust was the result of a round tearing through one of the sandbags in the middle of the window and impacting on the back wall.

I overheard Sgt Thompson saying that he couldn't believe that I hadn't been hit. When it was happening there was a crazy mixture of excitement and anger. I really don't recall feeling any fear until after the fact. I had a crazy adrenaline rush at first. Once the weapon jammed I got pissed. Being shot at is one thing, but being shot at when your weapon is down is something else entirely. It made me mad as hell.

Coming off of it was quite an experience in itself. Just the way that one second I was in the middle of a raging firefight, and the next there was nothing. I cant tell you whether or not my hands were shaking, but I know my knees were weak. I had to sit down almost immediately after it was done. The good Lord was watching out for me on this one.

Sgt T has taken to calling me "Bubble Boy", because he swears that I must have a protective bubble around me, based on what he saw. I have a different theory; I think it is a barrier of prayers and love.