Only enroute did the Wolfhounds hear from headquarters that an IA checkpoint had been attacked.
The Wolfhounds arrived at 1041.
“Like a f*****g plane crash site,” Gung declared.
Unrecognizable debris covered the street. A heavy mist of microscopic trash, dust, and petroleum products still hung in the air. Wynn could see at least a dozen damaged cars. He grimly took stock of the situation. Iraqis started noticing the arriving Americans. He saw injured people and pools of blood on the street. Locals stood around as if lost on a different planet: some cried, some were stunned into silence, others looked anxiously for someone to blame. While the platoon maneuvered into position, Wynn made a ten-second call to headquarters to let them know they’d arrived and describe his initial impressions.
