IGX

By this time on October 3rd, 1993 Task Force Ranger was in a fight for their lives in the street of Modadishu, Somalia. Over the next 17 hours we would see the deaths of 18 young warriors. We would also see some of the most selfless and courageous actions the country has ever known. To those who spend today remembering the fight- I raise a glass to you. To the families and friends of the fallen - know that we will never forget

Shughart was deployed to Mogadishu, Somalia in 1993 as part of Task Force Ranger. On October 3, 1993 during Operation Gothic Serpent, an assault mission to apprehend advisers to Mohamed Farrah Aidid. Super Six One, was shot down in the city. A Combat Search and Rescue (CSAR) team came to secure it. Then, Super Six Four was shot down.[3]

Shughart, Gary Gordon and Sergeant First Class Brad Hallings had been providing sniper cover from the air. Gary Gordon wanted to be inserted to secure the crash site and hostile Somalis were converging on the area.[3]

Mission commanders denied Gordon's request twice,[1] saying that the situation was too dangerous for the Delta snipers to protect the crew from the ground.[4] Command's position was that the snipers could be of more assistance by providing air cover. Gordon, however, repeated his request until he got permission. Sergeant First Class Brad Hallings stayed to provide cover.[4]

Shughart and Gordon were inserted approximately 100m from the crash site, armed with their sniper rifles and sidearms, and made their way to the downed Blackhawk. Chief Warrant Officer Mike Durant was already defending the aircraft with an MP5 but was unable to move from his chair due to a crushed vertebra in his back and a compound fracture of his left femur. When they reached Super Six Four, they extracted Durant and the crew members from the crash and defended the aircraft.[3] It is believed that Gordon was first to be shot by the mob, which had surrounded the crash site. Shughart retrieved Gordon's CAR-15 rifle and gave it to Durant to use. Shortly after, Shughart was killed, the site was overrun and Durant was taken hostage.[1] According to Michael Durant's book In the Company of Heroes, the Somalis counted 25 of their militia dead after the firefight.[5]

Thanks for posting this TOM. Marines never forget the importance of battle history, even if it's on behalf of us this time.

tough old man wrote:

Thanks for posting this TOM. Marines never forget the importance of battle history, even if it's on behalf of us this time.

I was there before Dan, (attached to 15th MEU) and we talked a lot during my time there and after he knew he was coming there. We'd been friends since we attended a school together.

powerlifter54 wrote:

Bullets blasting by your head, when somebody's really shooting at you, sound nothing like they do in the movies. That's what Tim Wilkinson thought as he crouched behind the crumpled hulk of a helicopter. Instead of a cinematic whistling zing, it's more of a cracking thwack! like somebody clapping a pair of two-by-four's right beside your ear.

Then a technical sergeant, Wilkinson chanced upon this discovery around 4:30 p.m. on Oct. 3, 1993, during a 15-hour siege on the dirt streets of Mogadishu, Somalia, the longest sustained firefight by U.S. forces since the Vietnam War.

About 120 American commandos from Task Force Ranger had stormed into the city in choppers during a daylight raid to capture henchmen of Somalian warlord Mohamed Farrah Aidid. Plans called for a quick snatch and grab, the mission lasting less than an hour, but the operation quickly fell apart after clan militia men shot down two UH-60 Blackhawk helicopters.

Wilkinson, a pararescueman, circled the city in a holding pattern aboard another helo with fellow PJ, Master Sgt. Scott Fales, when headquarters sent them to pull out one of the Blackhawk crews. The pair belonged to a 15-man combat search and rescue team, and the two had waited until last to slide down the 30-foot fast ropes into the dusty abyss below them. But before the PJs could finish their descent a rocket-propelled grenade slammed into their chopper, rocking it sideways. Luckily, the pilot held his hover long enough for the airmen to reach the bottom, before sputtering back to base and crash landing.

On the ground, the team found themselves outnumbered and surrounded by a ragtag band of Somali irregulars and a mob of angry civilians, heavily armed with automatic weapons, grenades and RPGs. The "unfriendlies" lurked in a labyrinth of crumbling, concrete buildings and fired potshots from rooftops, windows and around corners, pinning the rescue team down near the crashed Blackhawk. Wilkinson felt as exposed as the emperor without his clothes. Shortly thereafter, a bullet ripped through Fales' calf, hobbling him. The PJ stuffed his muscle tissue back in the wound, dressed it and started an IV on himself to slow the onset of shock.

"These guys were playing for keeps," Wilkinson said. "I don't think any training can totally prepare you for combat; however, my training prepared me the best it could. I just fell back on muscle memory. You can rehearse and preplan right down to a gnat's [behind], but in a rescue scenario, you get what you get. You've got to rapidly assess the situation and think on your feet."

While Fales treated casualties and provided cover fire, Wilkinson climbed inside the overturned Blackhawk and carried out the wounded and attempted to free the dead. While inside the helo, a barrage of bullets and flak pierced the aircraft, and shrapnel raked Wilkinson across his face and arm.

"I learned then that life is a matter of millimeters and nanoseconds. If my head was turned a different way, I might be dead," said Wilkinson or "Wilky" to his friends. "Fortunately, all the bullets missed me, and my scars healed up nice."

In a small courtyard across the street from the pararescuemen, another squad of soldiers in the main assault force fought for their lives. Soon, the two PJs heard cries for "Medic! We need a medic!" Instinctively, Wilkinson grabbed his rucksack and an armful of medical supplies, turned to his teammates and said melodramatically, "Cover me," which seemed an impossible request since Somalians drew beads on them from every imaginable angle. Then he sprinted the 45 meters across the open intersection and down a narrow alley. Wilkinson's sudden appearance surprised the Somalians, and they opened fire on him like he was a trophy buck prancing through the National Rifle Association's annual picnic. To survive his sorties through no man's land, Wilkinson borrowed a strategy employed by ball players like Rickey Henderson to steal bases.

"I ducked my head and ran from point A to point B without looking at the catcher trying to pick me off," he said. "But I felt like I was running in slow motion... with cement shoes on. My buddies joked that I run much slower than I look, maybe it's my exaggerated arm swing, so the Somalians might've misjudged my speed and led me too much."

In the courtyard, Wilkinson patched up four seriously wounded Rangers, but quickly emptied his medical rucksack, using up all his supplies. He needed more fluids, meds and bandages, or his patients would surely slip away. So the sergeant made another headlong dash across the alley to retrieve Fales' medical supplies, and then stampeded back with his bounty. This time, though, the Somalians were waiting for him and unleashed a hailstorm of bullets on him. Like in the movies, they all missed.

Army Ranger Capt. A. Scott Miller, an eyewitness to the airman's bravery, later wrote, "It should be noted that these trips across the open street were at the peak of the battle when the enemy fire was at its most intense. We were receiving intense and accurate small arms and RPG fire. His repeated acts of heroism saved the lives of at least four soldiers."

Wilkinson remained with wounded Rangers throughout the night, ministering over them and several other casualties. When reinforcements arrived the next morning, 18 Americans were dead and 80 wounded. For his extraordinary heroism, Wilkinson received the Air Force Cross, an award second only to the Medal of Honor, and Fales and Staff Sgt. Jeffrey Bray, an Air Force combat controller in one of the main assault forces, both earned Silver Stars for their gallantry that day.

"I was just doing the job that I'd expect out of any PJ. To have done any less is unacceptable," said Wilkinson, now 41 and a master sergeant with the 720th Special Tactics Group at Hurlburt Field, Fla. "And it's what the American people pay us to do. It was just my turn up at bat."
Master Sgt. Tim Wilkinson

I remember being at Bragg in 03 and hearing about Shugart and Gordon. Not really from the monuments and posters-- but from Senior noncoms who got really serious all of the sudden. Those guys (still) epitomize the gold standard there, and I still get chills when I think about it. I hope the others you mention do elsewhere.