The Battle of 73 Easting — 25 Years Later
“History is written by the victors.” — Walter Benjamin
“History is the fiction we invent to persuade ourselves that events are knowable and that life has order and direction.” — Calvin and Hobbes (Bill Waterson)
On the afternoon of February 26, 1991, Iron Troop advanced with its two scout platoons forward, 1st platoon (Red) on the right and my 3rd platoon (Blue) on the left. The troop commander (Black 6) operated from the Troop XO’s Bradley Fighting Vehicle (BFV) since his tank sheared a sprocket earlier in the morning. He led both tank platoons in a “super wedge” in the troop center approximately 2 km’s behind the lead scouts. My partner 4th platoon (Green) echeloned to the left towards my platoon, while 2nd platoon (White) echeloned right. Our mortars and XO tucked up immediately behind the wedge.
After the previous day’s fighting against mounted and dismounted infantry, we spent a thoroughly exhausting and miserable night on a screen line. For all but the two Vietnam Veterans in the troop, that was our first real combat. To say we were still on edge was an understatement. After conducting a highly stressful full resupply in a near zero visibility fog, we were thankful to move out just before sunrise, but just after those damn MLRS pulled up right behind us, and shot, over our heads, again. Later that day the sand storm hit and we once again found ourselves in the land of the two-way range.
A T-72 fired from my front left and the round struck the earth to my right, close enough to splash sand on my BFV, me (who fought way above name tape defilade), and my map. As I swiftly wiped the sand from my goggles and map, Black 6 called me on the radio and said in a rather non-calm voice, “Blue, someone’s shooting at you!” I can actually remember turning around, looking in his direction, raising my arms and screaming, “Really, like I couldn’t see that!” Luckily, for me, I don’t think my voice carried far enough for him to hear. By the time I had turned back around, two TOWs from my Alpha Section had already destroyed that particular T-72.
As a result, I am one of the few people you can meet who knows what a 125mm sabot round sounds like going the wrong way. I am not unique; there are more like me, but not many. Besides, you know what — nobody cares. This obscure bragging point has never even got me a beer. You want to meet someone impressive, meet Jon Silk.[1] I fought with him during OIF 1 and he got hit it the chest with an RPG while fighting in Kut in 2004. I didn’t even know he was hurt until I served with him again in 2007. What a warrior! Now that’s impressive. Now that is humbling, and yes, I have bought him a beer. I couldn’t think of a better collaborator to help me illustrate what I believe to be the significance of the 73 Easting today, 25 years later.
Jon Silk:
In May 2007 LTC Tom Isom handed me the guidon as I took command of Cobra Company, 1st Battalion, 72nd Armor Regiment stationed at Camp Casey, Korea. And thus started the most rewarding period of my military career. Our relationship began four years prior during OIF 1 when I was a Scout Platoon Leader in Killer Troop, 3rd Squadron, 2nd Armored Cavalry Regiment and he was the Squadron Executive Officer. While conducting combat operations against the Mahdi Militia our Squadron was involved in the some of the heaviest fighting of the Regiment’s deployment and my platoon earned a reputation for being lethal and competent.
On April 9, 2004, during a firefight in AL Kut, Iraq, I received trauma to the chest from enemy fire. I recovered from the hit and kept fighting. The next morning I had a fairly large bruise on my chest but did not think much of it. I was just happy to be alive. At the time, I had no idea of my wound’s severity and the transformative experience its treatment and recovery would put me through.[2]
On its 25th anniversary, I have not written yet another, competing version of what happened at the 73 Easting. This fight was the most studied and codified in its time. The Army actually recreated in virtual reality. If you can find an old working SIMNET, you can ride in my vehicle through the fight — so what? However, describing how this personal crucible[3] changed my relationship with training and leadership may be of value to some. Describing the intangible knowledge and credibility this battle imbued in me as leader is pertinent to our current discussions of mentorship and professionalism. Understanding how my experience meshed with others’ to provide a continuity of combat expertise is essential to us today, so that we will not squander these gifts in our continuous preparations for tomorrow’s next fight.
Perhaps the greatest lesson I walked away from the 73 Easting was the fact that, in combat, you will only perform as good as you were trained. Adrenaline and fear may help you run or talk faster, but they will not magically teach you skills you have not previously mastered.
I had heard this many times prior to Desert Storm. However, up until then, they were only words. Conversely, I also walked away from the battle with the confidence that we could perform as we were trained. Crew drills, gunnery commands, contact reports, react to contact drills, and report formats all burned through the fear and confusion, quickly gaining us the upper hand. Later, with great reflection, all of my training, from Ft Knox AOBC sand tables to Grafenwoehr TT/BT XIIs connected in my mind directly to battlefield results.
The platoon performed as trained because we trained as a platoon. The other platoons in the troop would make fun of our endless walks in the sand. We spent countless hours (not much else to do out there) walking through formation changes, battle drills, and contingencies. I wanted gunners to intuitively know where every other track was in relation to them during every permutation of a battle drill while they remained glued to their sights. I wanted the dismounts in the back of one track to know where every other track was during a contact drill. I wanted everyone to be able to step up to the next level when casualties occurred. Through the rest of my career, I never lost this focus on low overhead collective training and the benefits it paid in teamwork and battlefield success.
Jon Silk:
He extended trust to me when it came to conducting company training. As I was designing training for my company, I reflected on my combat experiences to pull out the relevant lessons and integrate them into my training plan. My experience in Iraq was mostly a counter-insurgency experience with periods of high intensity fighting. For three months, I was attached to a tank company, Battlecat 2–37 Armor, while we conducted operations in Kufah and Diwaniyah. I learned some valuable lessons from conducting operations with them. After much reflection, I incorporated the relevant high-intensity lessons to Korea’s operating environment, where the fighting would be more intense if hostilities were to resume. I shared my training plan with LTC Isom and he empowered me to train the company within his intent.”
- B Co, 2–37 AR and 4th Platoon, K Troop, 3/2 ACR moving out from FOB Duke, May 2004
With LTC Isom’s approval, I used the Close Combat Tactical Trainer extensively to conduct platoon and company level collective training. We were in a financially constrained environment and the CCTT is an excellent resource that gives commanders the opportunity to train on operations in the high end of the spectrum while not expending the enormous amount of resources required to conduct a mounted training exercise in a training area. On several occasions, we conducted 5-day continuous training exercises in which the company would operate out of a physical assembly area, requiring the company to prepare for future operations, conduct LOGPAC operations and maintain assembly area security after the CCTT training was complete.
The CCTT presented an excellent opportunity to train company logistical operations as well. However, there were some challenges, such as where to feed the company and how can it be conducted tactically. CCTT facilities have a break room commonly referred to as the “Mud Room”. By coordinating with the CCTT staff and the DFAC, the company ran 2 LOGPACs daily and served chow in the “Mud Room”. 1SG delivered the LOGPAC after the CCTT training for the day was complete and the company was set in an Assembly Area and in the morning before the platoons started training for the day, but while they were still in the company assembly area. The company stayed at the security posture that my OPORD directed and the platoons rotated crews through the “Mud Room” for chow.
While leading from the front is critical for a small unit leader, the 73 Easting taught me that perhaps the greatest leadership challenge is building teamwork. I am not alive today because I was quicker than every T-72 and BMP on the objective, I am (we are) alive because of teamwork.
The science of leadership and team building is well codified; however, there will always remain a soft or intuitive side to it. The 73 Easting taught me to trust my instincts, even as a lieutenant. I stand by this comment even in the face of the age-old jokes and adages about dangerous lieutenants and their maps and endless searches for ID-10-T box keys and track tension tubes. The Army depends on the youngest, most forward of leaders to develop and trust their instincts — whether it is a lieutenant platoon leader or specialist infantry team leader. Lots of killing and dying happens at the tip of the spear.
I yielded to those false adages when I saw minute signs of poor leadership and teamwork prior to LD in Saudi Arabia, and failed to act. Circumstances forced me to react by changing the crew and section make-up of the entire platoon. I had to rebuild the entire team from the ground up, in a combat theater, with LD nearly 60 days away. When faced with indicators that fall outside the range of normal, I should have focused more attention, investigated thoroughly, or eliminated the situation outright (watch, contact or kill). This is true for any friendly, enemy, or environmental indicator. Failing to act proactively and aggressively can impugn your competence or character, erode trust, and destroy the team you worked so hard to build.
Our performance later in battle proved to me that the harder commitment to real team building overrides any short-term gains achieved otherwise. My thoughts of the potential catastrophic consequences had I not acted at all remain locked away in a dark, moldy corner of my mind that even I don’t go anymore. Had I trusted and pursued my instincts earlier, when the subtle symptoms first appeared, the situation would have created much less stress and turbulence. Lieutenants (and PFCs, SPCs, CPLs, etc.) must develop, trust, and act on their instincts — lives will depend on it.
We could write for days concerning methods to build and train teams; much of which already exists. From my perspective, looking back over my career, it came down to competence, trust, and loyalty. Your team begins with you; you had to be competent. You had to spend the time to study and master your craft, whether you were a scout platoon leader, an S3, a division planner, or battalion commander. Through your daily actions, you had to prove to those around you that you knew what you were doing to earn their trust. You had to trust those around you — left and right, up and down. Placing your reputation (or life) in the hands of others shows remarkable respect, and is often repaid tenfold. Then standing by and defending the people who have earned your respect, through thick and thin, only strengthens the team’s sinews.
Jon Silk:
Commander to commander, LTC Isom trusted me. He knew I was a competent officer, leader and trainer. He gave me his intent and empowered me to command my company. We had some incredible training events and my company performed well. As the Bn commander, he constantly assessed my fellow commanders and me in order to develop us. As a leader, I was very experienced having been a prior-service Infantry NCO. As an Armor officer, I was an experienced cavalryman, but not a tanker. During gunnery exercises, LTC Isom gave me some extra attention in order to develop me as a tanker and become a more competent Armor officer. As my level of competence increased so did LTC Isom’s trust in me.
In training and garrison, perhaps the hardest thing to do is knowingly allow a subordinate to publically struggle or fail. As a battalion commander, it took great personal discipline to not “hit the easy button” and immediately intercede when a platoon leader struggled during Tank Table XII. It was even harder letting a company commander not get his sensitive items inventory done on time, knowing he and some of his soldiers would lose part of their weekend getting it done (and that the brigade commander would likely hammer me as well). I saw these as opportunities to demonstrate trust and loyalty. Not ending a young platoon leader’s career over bad platoon fire commands on his first TT XII demonstrates loyalty and trust — standing by a young leader as they developed the competencies I demanded while showing them that I trusted they could actually do it. Allowing a company commander to burn a weekend showed him that I trusted (and expected) him to run his company (I would not do it for him) and often required public displays of loyalty defending him to the brigade commander.
Jon Silk:
The training events my team and I planned for the company were very successful. My leaders and soldiers were receiving valuable training needed to stay tactically proficient on the tank platform. Platoon leaders were able to work on the team building aspect and improve on trust and cohesiveness within their respective platoons. As a commander, I trusted my subordinate leaders more after training as I saw their competence improve over time. These training events would not have been possible without the support of my BN CDR. As I mentioned before, this was a relationship built on trust. We had served together in Iraq and he understood how our experiences there were relevant to what we were training for in Korea.
These examples, and more like them, didn’t always build the best battalion “statistics,” As long as these mistakes were not integrity issues or acts of carelessness or negligence, I knew they built a better team, and in combat, that’s what mattered to me. Even public failures, if handled properly in the right command climate, become effective learning and developmental opportunities — for both sides of the chain of command. Unfortunately, I am hearing and reading about a return to a statistics focused leadership. We have too many combat veterans in our ranks to let this happen.
Jon Silk:
After I came out of command I went back to the states and had the opportunity for a second company command at FT. Polk , LA. We deployed to Afghanistan as combat advisors to the Afghan National Police. I felt my experience in command working with LTC Isom prepared me well for this assignment. I was advising the Afghans on training management and logistics. My experiences in command, especially with training management enabled me to be an effective advisor.
I arrived at Fort Knox in the fall of 1988 for my Basic Course. As any instructor at any service school will attest to, pre-basic course second lieutenants are unique in their combination of hubris and gross inexperience — I was no different. As we marched through the course, most of our focus was simply mastering each test or performance point balanced with the next special event at the Officer’s Club. However, throughout the Armor Center, a handful of Vietnam Veterans remained and served as instructors. It didn’t matter their rank (officer or NCO) or where they taught (gunnery, tactics, maintenance, etc.), when they spoke, this cocky set of springbucks shut up and took notes. These Warriors had seen the elephant; therefore, their knowledge was gold, never to be wasted or disrespected. This unruly rabble suddenly became focused, thirsty, and, at times, awestruck as the feet of these “golden instructors”.
As the Desert Shield deployment approached for 3/2 ACR (Wolfpack), I was keenly aware of who were the combat veterans; as was everyone else in Wolfpack, I’m sure. We had two in my Troop, but they were not in my platoon. You can bet I watched their every move from afar. Years later, as our deployment to OIF 1 approached, I was part of a larger handful of combat veterans in the same Wolfpack Squadron. As the S3, I was all consumed with the myriad of details of deployment and eventual employment. Yet, as one of the combat veterans, I am positive I could have done much better in this role of “elephant witness.”
Who are the “golden instructors” now? More importantly, who will they be in ten years? The lieutenants that I fought with in OIF 1 are field grades now, slogging away as S3’s and XO’s. I pray they are not as distracted as I was during deployment preparations. The captains are lining up for battalion command. I trust their experiences will serve their soldiers well. I can’t relate the number of Wolfpack soldiers and junior NCO’s I have met since OIF 1, who have moved on to more significant leadership roles — too many to count. Their soldiers will likely never be bored during Sergeant’s Time Training. That’s how it works. We have more combat experience in our ranks than any other time in recent memory. You will be the “golden instructors” in ten years, understand your role. Take the time now to reflect on your crucibles and how they changed you. Decide now how you can best spend that gold in the best interest of our Army and Nation, and most of all, our Soldiers.
Jon Silk:
I went on to serve as a faculty member at the United States Military Academy in West Point, NY. While I was there, I taught a leadership class for the seniors (“Firsties”). In class, I shared stories from my experiences as a platoon leader and commander to bring context to the lessons. Leaders develop through experience and by sharing stories in class, I was able to share experiences (not just PowerPoint Presentations) to give them a better learning experience. In this way, LTC Isom’s leadership and impact passed through me to the cadets. This demonstrates a form of generational leadership in which they might never know or remember his name; however, they will remain part of his legacy.
The 73 Easting changed me; it was one of my earliest crucibles. It changed how I saw training, leadership, and myself. Writing this with Jon begins to illustrate how my personal crucible was just one little tooth on a much larger gear. Meshing his own crucible in Kut (that undoubtedly changed him) with mine, Jon and I built on our shared trust and loyalty to keep the gears moving forward. Adapting our own lessons to our then current context, we executed the best training we could in Korea during the peak of the Iraqi surge (First Tank Gunnery[4]). We knew that the bulk of our youngest, first-term soldiers would leave after their short one-year tour for a unit either in or about to be in contact. Balancing our current readiness demands with their future requirements — I prayed daily that our training would serve them well. Later, at West Point, Jon kept the gears rolling forward himself as he prepared young officers for their journey to see the elephant.
Historians will continue to fine tune their criteria and argue the 73 Easting’s place in history. No matter how history views it, this “decisive victory” was not some predestined confluence of technology and doctrine. It was a nasty, hard, dangerous, brutal fight against a determined enemy in horrible conditions; valorous soldiers who were superbly trained and brilliantly led fought as a team and earned this victory. These factors didn’t magically happen on their own. We paid for them in blood, sweat, and tears well before the fight. Undeniably, these same factors have contributed to the tactical successes of the past fifteen years.
Nonetheless, the fact remains that the 73 Easting’s direct gifts are fading from our ranks through old age, attrition, and retirement. My participation in the battle matters no more and no less than every other combat veteran’s experience from Desert Storm; there were crucibles across the entire theater. Along with other veterans of other operations, we persevered through the drawdowns and OPTEMPO restrictions of the mid and late 1990s. What mattered is how we all internalized these experiences and translated them into the military training and leadership that has served our Nation well through these extended years of combat in Iraq, Afghanistan, and beyond.
The torch is now passed to a new military generation, keep the gears moving forward. Reflect on your crucibles, internalize their lessons, translate them to your Soldiers, and get ready for the next fight — because it is coming.
I offer my sincere gratitude to Jon Silk for his collaboration on this piece; his input proved critical in demonstrating the depth I sought to illustrate. I would also like to thank Colonel Jeff Davidson (USA, Ret.), another 73 Easting combat veteran, for his counsel and input. I am proud to call them both friends and it is a privilege to say I have fought in combat alongside both of them.
Colonel Tom Isom (USA, Ret.) was commissioned an armor officer in 1988 and served in various armor and cavalry positions through battalion command and senior staff. He served two combat tours in Iraq, both with 3/2 ACR, one during Operation Desert Storm and another during Operation Iraqi Freedom. Since retiring, he has continued his service as a veteran’s treatment court mentor and a board member of Operation: Adopt a Hero Tennessee.
Major Jon Silk (USA, Ret.) was commissioned an armor officer in 2003 after graduating from Officer Candidate School in 2003 and served in various armor and cavalry positions through company command, and as a faculty member at the United States Military Academy, West Point, NY. He served two combat tours, one with 3/2 ACR during Operation Iraqi Freedom, and another as an Afghan National Police advisor in support of Operation Enduring Freedom. Since retiring he has taken over as the executive director of leadership development at the University of North Texas Health Science Center and is an active member of the veteran service organization, Team Red, White, and Blue.
The views expressed in this post are those of the authors.
[1] http://itickwhenirun.com, Jon Silk
[2] Ibid.
[3] Ibid.
[4] First Tank Gunnery Video; YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2cRp-fJNl-4; filmed, edited, and published by Robert Parker; Feb 20, 2008
