Iran’s objective was to use terrorist activities to drive Americans out of the region, while at the same time spreading in the region their brand of fundamentalist Islam.
SHORTLY after midnight, September 3, the night the Israeli withdrawal started, the Marines at the airport, now obvious targets, were hit once again by heavy Druze artillery and a rocket barrage of more than a hundred rounds, killing two more Marines. Colonel Tim Geraghty immediately dispatched a situation report through his chain of command: “The stakes are becoming very high,” he wrote. “Our contribution to peace in Lebanon since 22 July stands at 4 killed and 28 wounded.”
Support came three days later.
On September 7, aircraft from the carrier Eisenhower began flying reconnaissance missions over the Chouf Mountains in an attempt to locate the Druze artillery positions. On September 8, the destroyer Bowen fired its 5-inch guns at targets located by the reconnaissance flights, but achieved only minor results, due to the low apogee (flat trajectory) of the rounds, and especially since the fires were not observed and adjusted by U.S. forward observers.
On the same day, the Druze militia, backed by Syrian artillery fire, drove off the last of the Christian militia who’d tried to take the ridgeline south of the airport. Meanwhile, fighting among the militias within Beirut intensified.
Tannous was faced with a dilemma. Something had to be done to ease the situation in Beirut itself, but he also needed to take the Druze-occupied ridgeline, which was only five kilometers away from the Presidential Palace and the Ministry of Defense (MOD). He immediately ordered one of his brigades into West Beirut to “clean it out.” He also sent the 8th Brigade, with approximately 2,400 men, to take the town of Souk al Gharb, located near the center of the ridgeline, to clear the Druze militia off the ridge, and then to hold it. Lebanese intelligence estimated that a force of approximately 3,000 Druze militiamen, reinforced by about 300 Palestinians and 100 Iranian Revolutionary Guards, now held the ridge; they were supported by about thirty Soviet-made T-54 tanks, and backed by Syrian heavy artillery.
During the next three days, some of the heaviest fighting of the war took place. For most of those days, the artillery falling on the 8th Brigade attacking Souk al Gharb and on the city—mainly on East (Christian) Beirut—was coming at a rate of about 1,200 rounds per hour.
The brigade that entered West Beirut successfully accomplished its mission with very few casualties. In a couple of days, it had captured approximately 250 militia fighters and supporters and collected eight two-and-a-half-ton-truck-loads of ammunition, weapons, and Soviet communications gear, including complete radio stations with fifty-foot antenna towers.
The 8th Brigade fighting for the ridgeline had a much tougher go. Pounded constantly by heavy artillery fire, the brigade suffered many casualties but performed well. The only way that it could advance under the artillery fire was by hugging buildings as it went up the ridgeline (parts of the area were urbanized). After two days of continuous fighting, it finally succeeded in driving the Druze militiamen from the town.
Tannous and I immediately went to Souk al Gharb to check the brigade and to ensure that its commander, Michel Aoun, was setting up his defenses across the entire ridgeline—which had to be held if Beirut was to be protected—not just in the town itself. Tannous wanted to see firsthand rather than trust Aoun’s radio reports.
For some time, Tannous had had concerns about Aoun’s ability to effectively lead the brigade. Although it had so far performed well, the brigade commander tended to be indecisive and panicky, and he was prone to “cry wolf.” His panic did not indicate solid and daring leadership.
When we got up there, I was stunned. I have never in my military career seen such devastation from artillery fire. Even heavy power lines on steel towers were down—cut by shrapnel. The steel fragments were so thick on the ground you could rake it up in piles. Every one of the brigade’s rubber-tired vehicles had shrapnel-caused flat tires, and virtually every soldier in the brigade had some kind of bandaged wound.
And yet, despite more than 200 casualties, the brigade was in good spirits. They had fought well together as a cohesive unit.
After we left, Michel Aoun began to report concerns about the brigade’s ability to hold the ridge. He requested reinforcements and more artillery ammo.
On the night of September 10, he reported convoys approaching from Druze territory, and then unloading troops forward of his position.
Shortly thereafter, one of his companies was attacked. It suffered seven dead, forty-three wounded, and several missing, and its commander was hacked to pieces with axes. The attackers, who did not speak Arabic, were probably Iranian Revolutionary Guards from Baalbeck. Aoun was frantic.
Though the heavy fighting on the ridgeline slacked off over the next week, the Druze, with Syrian support, began targeting the officers with long-barreled sniper rifles. For obvious reasons, leadership suffered greatly, and the troops, losing confidence, hunkered down in their holes. This in turn greatly increased their vulnerability to Druze infiltration of their lines at night, which could eventually open an approach to the Presidential Palace and Ambassador Bartholomew’s residence in the Yarze neighborhood of Beirut, only about four kilometers from the front. If the Druze forces could actually take the Presidential Palace and Yarze, that would likely mean the end of the Lebanese government—as well as the U.S. assistance program.
As the days passed, the Druze began to increase the pressure. Their main attacks came at night on the forward, southern slope, where the attackers were mostly protected from Lebanese artillery fire supporting the defending brigade. With each attack, Aoun became more panicky.
During this period, I was with Tannous day and night, making recommendations about tactical options and encouraging more aggressive operations.
We visited the brigade at least twice weekly—and once, as we checked frontline defensive positions, narrowly missed getting hit by sniper fire ourselves.
Meanwhile, pressure from the Lebanese government was daily growing more intense to get the Marines and the naval task force offshore to fire in support of the Lebanese army. Gemayel was becoming panicky himself. Any night now, he saw imagined hordes of Iranian Revolutionary Guards attacking the Palace and hacking everyone to pieces.
One night—I don’t recall the date—Ambassador Bartholomew asked me to accompany him to a meeting with Gemayel. When we arrived at the Palace, Tannous was already there. Gemayel was in quite a state.
“How much longer do you think we can hold out?” he asked me, visibly alarmed.
“As long as your troops are willing to fight,” I told him. “Except for the Syrian artillery, you’ve got the advantage. But you have to be more aggressive—you’ ve got to have your units do more patrolling, and doing to them what they’re doing to you. Even if you don’t have a lot of artillery, you’ve got an Air Force and you’ve got bombs—but you haven’t used them.”
“Our pilots don’t have experience dropping bombs,” he answered. “And besides, we don’t have the equipment that hooks the bombs to the planes.”
“We just might be able to help with that problem,” I told him.
By the time the meeting was over, he had calmed down.
Afterward, Tannous thanked me. “Gemayel just wanted to hear the truth from someone other than me, he told me.
I got together with Jerry Tuttle, and with the assistance of a couple of Navy machinists, bomb mounts were made and bombing sights were fabricated (for daylight use only).
Within the next couple of days, the Lebanese Air Force bombed suspected assembly areas and buildings used by the Druze for fighting locations. Although the bombings were not greatly effective, they gave a great psychological boost to the army.
Meanwhile, Robert MacFarlane requested a change in the Marines’ rules of engagement, to allow fire support for the Lebanese army on the ridgeline at Souk al Gharb. Washington okayed the change but reemphasized that the Marines’ mission remained the same. The order
left the actual authority to fire on Souk al Gharb to Tim Geraghty, who proved very reluctant to exercisc it. Once this was done, he knew, the Marines would be drawn deeper into the conflict. Because they were supporting the Lebanese army (though by this time it was nearly sixty percent Muslim), they would seem to be supporting the Christian government, and would therefore no longer be “impartial.”
On September 19, the usual daily assault on the 8th Brigade at Souk al Gharb began at two in the morning with an artillery barrage. An hour and a half later, Simon Quassis, Lebanon’s chief of military intelligence, amakened U.S. Colonel Gatanas, a member of MacFarlane’s staff, in a panic: “Without American help,” he told him, “Souk al Gharb will fill in half an hour.” Gatanas called me with this report, and indicated that he was going to the 8th Brigade command post to check with Anoun personally.
This was a good idea, I told him, because I wouldn’t put it past Quassis and Aoun to cook up something like this in order to get U.S. fire support.
Catanas reached Aoun five hours later. By then, Anoun was totally confused and distraught, and all but out of artillery shells. “Where is the main threat coming from?” Gatanas asked him.
“Everywhere.”
Gatanas was later able to sort through Aoun’s confusion enough to determine that hand-to-hand fighting was occurring on the brigade’s southern flank, but the main threat was probably coming from the north. The Lebanese soldiers seemed to be holding, but the same could not be said for leadership at the brigade level, which was likely to come apart. It was clear they were ultimately going to require fire support. Without it, the leadership would surely break down, at which point the brigade would no longer be a capable force and could not defend the ridge.
At the MOD, where I’d been staying ever since the heavy fighting had started, Tannous confirmed all this: In his view, Aoun was unstable. Without fire support, the 8th Brigade risked being routed.
I relayed this information to Geraghty, and at 9:45 A.M., Gatanas, who was still on the ridge, received permission to call in naval gunfire. Shortly thereafter, the cruiser Virginia opened fire. During the course of the day, the Virginia and other naval ships fired a total of 360 rounds on the Souk al Gharb ridgeline. Though the psychological effect of all this firepower was probably greater than any tactical results, the brigade held and was able to resupply.
In retaliation for the American intervention, shells started falling on the Ambassador’s residence at Yarze later that day, forcing its evacuation. Only the Marine guard force and the radio operators remained.
On September 23, Robert MacFarlane went to Damascus for another meeting with Assad. He was once again about to come away empty-handed when he dropped news on Assad that caught the Syrian president’s attention: “President Reagan wants you to know,” MacFarlane told Assad, “that the battleship New Jersey will be arriving off the coast of Lebanon in two days.”
This escalation of resolve and firepower caught the attention of the Lebanese factions as well.
The next day, all sides agreed to a cease-fire.
Soon the airport and the Port of Beirut were reopened. Although much of the city had been reduced to rubble, it began to come alive again. Crews were out cleaning up the streets and restoring power and water. The banks began to reopen, and people began to go about their business. The city remained divided along factional lines, however. It wasn’t safe for people to leave their own areas.
Still, the resiliency of the Lebanese people was amazing.
MacFarlane returned to Washington in early October, hoping the cease-fire would hold.
It lasted only a couple of weeks.
DURING this lull, I left Beirut and traveled first to Stuttgart to brief General Lawson, the Deputy CINC for Europe, and then on to Washington to brief the Joint Chiefs.
In the meantime, the training of the Lebanese army continued. A supply ship carrying military equipment, supplies, and ammunition, bought and paid for by the Lebanese government as part of the military assistance program, finally showed up after a two-week delay (it had crashed into a pier in Italy). It was very welcome.
Later in October, the shelling of the 8th Brigade resumed from Druze militia batteries located ten to fifteen kilometers west of the ridgeline. The firing this time was much less intense than in September, and now had a discernible pattern: There was firing in the morning, and then again later in the afternoon. This turned out to be a convenient modus operandi for the Druze, many of whom kept a mortar in their backyard or in their houses (they’d drag it out and quickly set it up to fire). They dropped a few rounds in the tube before going to work and again in the afternoon as they returned.
The 8th Brigade continued to hold the ridgeline. But ominously, almost every night they could see headlights of convoys resupplying Syrian artillery positions in the Chouf.
The shelling of the Ambassador’s residence at Yarze and the Ministry of Defense also resumed, but also at a reduced rate, which meant that people were more or less able to conduct business as usual. You couldn’t say that people were leading “normal” lives, but chances of immediate, violent death were much lessened.
Soon the Shiites in West Beirut began ambushing people traveling the coastal road—an ironic setting, since it was hardly more than rock-throwing distance from the fleet of twenty-eight American warships, including a battleship and two aircraft carriers. People were killing each other and burning the bodies in clear view of many of the ships, and nothing could be done about it.
Though I encouraged Tannous to have the Lebanese army brigade responsible for the area put a stop to it, little was done, because the brigade commander and most of the brigade were Shiites.
Meanwhile, the Navy continued its daily reconnaissance flights over the Chouf Mountains and the Bekáa Valley. Soon they were drawing antiaircraft fire from SA-7 missiles and 37mm twin-barrel antiaircraft guns.
THE NEW THREAT
As October dragged on, we began to receive credible intelligence reports of possible car bomb attacks, sometimes even giving the make and the color of the car. One of these messages indicated that a spectacular act now being planned would make the ground shake underneath the foreign forces.
A Lebanese intelligence official believed that this act could be perpetrated in one of the many sea caves that snaked underneath Beirut. Some of these caves were large enough for passage by small boats, and the PLO had already used them as ammunition storage areas during their occupation of West Beirut.
A meeting held between Tannous and the commanders of the multinational forces (who were, understandably, deeply concerned) decided to search the tunnels and use well-drilling and seismic detection equipment to determine if any of the caves ran under the multinational force positions. The seismic detection equipment was brought in from the United States and Europe; the well-drilling equipment was already present in Lebanon.
A Lebanese navy search found nothing suspicious within the known caves, while seismic detection and well-drilling failed to locate any previously unknown caverns.
During all this activity, of course, everybody was doing everything possible to determine the nature of the target, and the method and timing of the attack.
At 6:30 Sunday morning, October 23, 1983, Tannous and I were sitting over coffee in his MOD office, discussing the training activities of the Lebanese army and future employment plans. The office had a large plateglass window, providing a panoramic view of Beirut.
WHAM!
We heard a tremendous explosion. Shortly afterward, the shock wave rocked the building. A huge black column of smoke topped by a white, rapidly spinning smoke ring—like an atomic explosion—was rapidly rising from an area approximately two miles away, near the airport.
“God willing,” Tannous said, part in exclamation, part in prayer—he was a devout Christian, “I hope it’s not the Marines!”
He jumped up from his desk. “Let’s go,” he said. “We’ve got to get there. We’ll take my car”—instead of a military vehicl
e—“and go straight through West Beirut to the airport. That’s the shortest route.”
Before we reached the car—WHAM!—another huge explosion. And we could see a similar cloud rising over the area where the French compound was located.
The explosions had shocked West Beirut to life. As we went through town, making at least seventy miles an hour, people were already on balconies and the tops of buildings trying to see what was going on.
As Tannous had feared, the Marines’ compound had been truck-bombed. When we arrived, there was almost indescribable devastation. I have never seen anything like it. Fires were burning everywhere, people were torn apart, and the building had just collapsed on top of itself. The survivors were all in a daze.
When the blast occurred, Colonel Geraghty had been working in his office about a hundred yards away. He was now doing everything possible to bring order.
“Whatever you need, you’ve got,” Tannous told him. “We’ll bring every emergency crew in Lebanon to bear on this, and I’ll get you heavy construction equipment in here immediately to lift some of these layers off these people.”
One of Beirut’s largest construction companies, with a contract to clean up rubble from previous fighting, was quickly ordered in to help. Tannous also immediately ordered one of his army brigades to move into the airport area to provide security for the Marines.
Tannous and I spent no more than ten minutes at what was left of the Marine compound before heading to the French compound only a couple of miles away, where we found similar, but somewhat lesser, devastation. “It was a truck bomb,” the French commander reported. “We have at least twenty-five dead.” The number would eventually reach fifty-nine.
Tannous offered the French the same assistance he’d given the Marines, and ordered in a Lebanese army battalion to secure their area.