Word: beret
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...clambers up to the roof. The 2-foot lip doesn't give much cover from the bullets raining down on them from insurgent gunmen firing from a building 200 yards to the north. Rounds flying at supersonic speed crack inches from the troops' ears. "Get down, goddammit," a Green Beret hollers to his Iraqi counterparts. On their bellies, two weapons sergeants start loading an 84-mm M-3 antitank recoilless rifle. "They got guns," says a commando shouldering a rocket launcher. "Let's f_______ do this." He kneels, exposing himself without any choice, takes aim and fires. Whump...
...been shooting just moments before. The fighting is so close, you could throw rocks and hit the man trying to kill you. Buildings erupt in smoke and flames. F-16 fighter jets roar overhead. "We got people moving around on rooftops in the vicinity of the mosque," the Green Beret team sergeant reports on radio. Six Hellfire missiles come barreling in, detonating 80 yards away and showering rubble onto the troops' helmets. Pulling out, the Renegade Troop Apache pilot calls merrily to the team sergeant on the ground, "Stay safe, and kill some bad guys...
...Tall 'Afar, the U.S. and Iraqi troops awake on the morning of Sept. 6 to the sound of messages being broadcast over loudspeakers instructing civilians to leave. At mid-morning, families begin to emerge across Route Barracuda waving sad little white flags. As a family shuffles past, a Green Beret weapons sergeant bellows for them to be stopped. "Who's that red-headed guy?" he asks. The men are sifted out, five identified as suspicious. Flashes of defiance and anger raise suspicions. "Hey, flex-cuff 'em," orders a Green Beret. Chemical swabs read positive for explosives...
...lines over the Tall 'Afar operation, al-Jafaari insists on assurances from military commanders that the battle will be a decisive success. The wait leaves the troops embittered, their momentum lost to what they see as political calculations. "This is turning into a goat f___," bemoans an angry Green Beret. By the time al-Jaafari approves the dreaded assault into al-Qaeda's heartland, it fizzles. Not a hostile shot is fired, not a single enemy fighter is found. Safe houses and weapons caches are empty, cleansed like an operating room. Only one blackened corpse, left rotting for days...
...where he watched Buddhist monks painting at a nearby pagoda. Max's designs, exploited through corporate tie-ups with half a dozen companies including General Electric, and emblazoned on posters, cups, plates, decals, and medallions, make him the grooviest thing going. He zaps about Manhattan with his blonde, beret-crowned wife in a decal-covered 1952 Rolls-Royce with a liveried chauffeur. What will he do for his U25 (under 25) audience, when the psychedelic fad fades? "Something like what I'm doing now, but more cosmological, a blending with outer space," explains...