9-11+SHORT+STORY

Horrors of war: Marine recalls battle
By CHAD KLIMACK Advocate Reporter

PATASKALA -- Norman Doran peered through a slit in a wall, an M-16 pinched hard against his shoulder, and fired shot after shot at Iraqi soldiers surrounding the brick-and-mud hut in which he and his fellow Marines were trapped.

Some of the shots hit their mark. Some did not, as Doran and other members of 12 Charlie Company fought for their lives during a fierce battle at An Nasiriyah, a city in southern Iraq.

Stuck inside the dusty hut in late March, Doran, 24, a 1997 graduate of Watkins Memorial High School, listened as the sound of gunfire from Iraqi AK-47s mixed with moans from injured Marines.

Having been in the Marines for less than two years, the cruel sights and sounds were new to Doran. He and the rest of his company had sped through Iraq during the first days of the war and faced no gunfire. Once inside An Nasiriyah, however, everything had changed.

The city was filled with Iraqis, many of whom stood on rooftops firing explosive rocket-propelled grenades at the convoy carrying Doran and some of his friends. After being hit by six RPGs, Doran's amphibious assault vehicle rolled into a telephone pole and stopped dead in its tracks.

Stuck in the open, Doran jumped from the vehicle and started returning fire as mortars and bullets fell like rain around him. Amidst the chaotic scene, Doran ultimately found cover inside a poorly constructed brick-and-mud hut.

All told, 18 Marines, including one of Doran's best friends, lost their lives during the battle in An Nasiriyah. Another 32 were injured.

Now home on leave visiting his father, Mike Doran of Baltimore, and mother, Cora Riffle of Mount Perry, Doran recounted his experiences in An Nasiriyah, which the Marines coined "Ambush Alley."

"They were expecting us," Doran said. "They were waiting for us. They would hide behind children and fire AK-47s at us. One guy, dressed as a woman, was putting up clothes and he would shoot at us."

Seeking retribution for a wrong

Doran joined the Marines after seeing news clips of planes crashing into the World Trade Center on Sept. 11, 2001.

"It made me mad," said Doran, flashing a smile that is a semi-permanent part of his tan face. "It just seemed something needed to be done about it."

The former Pataskala resident enlisted as a Marine infantryman because he wanted to be close to the action and go after men like Osama bin Laden and Saddam Hussein.

Bravado and bravery are two separate emotions, however. Doran learned as much after stepping off a Navy ship onto Kuwaiti soil in January.

Doran and 12 Charlie Company spent the first few days of the war crossing a desert in amphibious assault vehicles. They took no enemy fire and slept soundly at night on the desert floor. Considering the buildup to the war, the inactivity left many of the Marines feeling cheated, Doran said.

"It was just so monotonous," he said. "We were just waiting for something to happen."

Much of the bravado melted when the Marines entered An Nasiriyah.

Upon approaching the city, Doran said he started hearing small-arms fire ricochet off his amphibious assault vehicle. The gunfire intensified as the soldiers neared a bridge they were supposed to secure.

Within minutes, Doran's vehicle was stuck against a telephone pole, and he was firing his M-16 at Iraqi soldiers hiding atop surrounding roofs and near a compound located on the other side of the bridge.

"You say to yourself, 'I don't want to die,' but once you get past the initial fear, your mind starts to focus,"
said Doran, noting he could feel his legs shaking uncontrollably as the battle intensified.

The scene was chaotic, all the more so because a few Marines froze as mortars and gunfire hit near them.

"There was a couple times where an artillery round would be falling and they'd cry," Doran said. "People react to it completely differently."

Doran helped his fellow soldiers by talking to them, urging them to reload ammunition and to follow their training.

That training, specifically the concept of not leaving a soldier behind, led Doran to abandon a mad dash for cover inside a mud-and-brick hut.

Just feet from the hut, Doran heard a Marine crying for help in the middle of the road. The cries prompted Doran and another Marine to run back into the road and grab their injured comrade, who had been shot in the leg. Once inside the hut, Doran learned from other soldiers that bullets had been whizzing by him. Surprisingly, he had not noticed.

"I remember thinking something is going to hit me, but I couldn't hear any rounds being fired," Doran said.

The Marines remained pinned down in the hut for close to three hours. Doran spent much of the time shooting at Iraqi soldiers through a slit in the wall. U.S. tanks and combat vehicles eventually pushed the Iraqi forces back, not a moment too soon.

"I just remember thinking, 'We're going to have to fight our way out of here until we're dead,'" Doran said.

Fallen comrade

Doran did not know until well after the battle that one of his best friends, Randy Rosacker, 21, of San Diego, had been killed.

Before the war, Rosacker and Doran had returned to Pataskala numerous times to stay with Doran's family. Rosacker had even considered moving to Pataskala when his enlistment in the Marines ended.

That dream died when an Iraqi hit Rosacker in the chest with one of the many RPGs fired during the battle in An Nasiriyah.

Upon learning of the news, Doran said he felt crushed. Still, he did not let the news cloud his mind, considering he remained in the middle of a war.

"I knew he'd want me to move on," said Doran, adding he and a number of Rosacker's other friends kept their fallen comrade's memory alive by talking about the good memories they shared together. "Wherever he is, he's laughing and smiling."

Mission complete

Charlie Company ultimately completed its mission, and Doran went to work safeguarding a hospital in An Nasiriyah.

His job required him to check all incoming patients and staff for weapons. It also gave him a firsthand view of the appalling living conditions in Iraq.

When discussing the conditions, the usually affable Doran turned serious.

"There's no reason for any American not to be doing OK," he said. "We've got it so well."

Many of the people in An Nasiriyah lived in mud huts. Their floors were made of dirt, Doran said.

In addition, medicine was hard to come by, so many of the children who passed through the hospital's doors were dying of treatable diseases. The site of a young Iraqi girl with typhoid fever particularly saddened Doran.

"It was going to end up killing her, eventually," Doran said. "They just don't have the access to medicine, and even if they did, they don't have the money."

Doran stayed in Iraq until late May, when he boarded a ship and headed back to his base at Camp Lejeune, N.C. He arrived on U.S. soil June 22, and he returns to Camp Lejeune in August.

When he gets back to North Carolina, Doran said he may receive a Bronze Star for helping rescue the downed Marine in An Nasiriyah.

Even so, the Marine does not consider himself a hero.

"Some of these other veterans, like the people who fought in the Vietnam War, they had it hard coming home," Doran said. "No one wanted to hear their stories, and they went through what I went through in one day, every day for months."

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