Operation Tigris Hammer

[Jay]

OPERATION TIGRIS HAMMER
Security Classification: TOP SECRET

SITUATION REPORT

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OVERVIEW Following the completion of Tigris Shield's and continued PKK terror attacks in Izmir and Ankara, the Prime Minister has authorized the ground component of the campaign against PKK infrastructure and personnel in Iraqi Kurdistan, designated Tigris Hammer. The operation proceeds under the same right of self-defense against imminent and ongoing harm invoked for Tigris Shield, updated to reflect findings from the Izmir investigation and subsequent cross-border intelligence operations against PKK bombmaking and logistics networks. Tigris Hammer commits three divisions, 19,000 personnel, supported by 6,000 corps troops (artillery, engineer, military police, and Gendarmerie special operations elements) along three axes of advance into the Duhok pocket and the Bahdinan and Zap approaches. The operation is composed of three subordinate campaigns: Tigris Saber, the initial ground advance intended to draw PKK elements toward a defensible perimeter; Tigris Storm, the airborne envelopment severing PKK reinforcement routes into Duhok; and Tigris Scale, the sustained mountain clearance of the Ari–Choman corridor. Objectives are aimed at the degradation of the PKK's operational infrastructure and the denial of sanctuary. Operations will focus on smaller towns, transit corridors, and open terrain where TSK armor, air, and mobility advantages are decisive rather than a liability. Execution is contingent on completion of diplomatic consultations with allied governments. Joint Task Force Iraq (JTF-I) will hold forces at final readiness pending execution order.

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BELLIGERENTS

BLUFOR	OPFOR
Republic of Türkiye	Kurdistan Worker's Party HPG YJA-STAR Iraq (Nominal — no effective operational control in AO) Socialist Republic of Thailand (Alleged Support)[1]

Joint Task Force Iraq (JTF-I) Lt. Gen. Batu Celal, Commanding Maj. Gen. Ercan Akinci, Deputy Commander	HPG Theater Command Murat Karayılan Duran Kalkan Bahoz Erdal
3rd "Gergedan" Combined Arms Armored Division 11th Armored Regiment 1st Tank Battalion 2nd Tank Battalion 11th Armored Reconnaissance Battalion 20th Mechanized Rifle Regiment 1st Mechanized Rifle Battalion 2nd Mechanized Rifle Battalion 3rd Mechanized Rifle Battalion 22nd Mechanized Rifle Regiment 1st Mechanized Rifle Battalion 2nd Mechanized Rifle Battalion 3rd Mechanized Rifle Battalion 41st Self-Propelled Artillery Regiment 8th Combat Engineer Battalion (attached) 5th Reconnaissance Battalion	Bahdinan Front 1st Tabur "Mala Arab" 2nd Tabur "Zakho" 3rd Tabur "Qadish" YJA-STAR Bahdinan Company Front logistics & courier network
5th "Kartal" Airborne Division 1st Airborne Regiment 1st Airborne Battalion 2nd Airborne Battalion 3rd Airborne Battalion 2nd Air Assault Regiment 1st Air Assault Battalion 2nd Air Assault Battalion 3rd Air Assault Battalion 3rd Air Assault Regiment 1st Air Assault Battalion 2nd Air Assault Battalion 3rd Air Assault Battalion 15th Special Reconnaissance Battalion 5th Airborne Engineer Battalion 11th Airborne Fire Support Battalion	Zap Front 1st Tabur "Namrik" 2nd Tabur "Mrebah" 3rd Tabur "Bakrman-Baurki" YJA-STAR Zap Company
10th Mountain Division 31st Mountain Rifle Regiment 1st Mountain Rifle Battalion 2nd Mountain Rifle Battalion 3rd Mountain Rifle Battalion 32nd Mountain Rifle Regiment 1st Mountain Rifle Battalion 2nd Mountain Rifle Battalion 3rd Mountain Rifle Battalion 33rd Mountain Rifle Regiment 1st Mountain Rifle Battalion 2nd Mountain Rifle Battalion 3rd Mountain Rifle Battalion 61st Mountain Reconnaissance Battalion 16th Mountain Artillery Battalion 10th Combat Engineer Battalion (partial)	Gare–Qandil Front 1st Tabur "Ari" 2nd Tabur "Choman" Qandil Reserve/Training Tabur YJA-STAR Gare Company

CONFIDENTIAL MISSION OPERATION GİZLİLİKLE GÖREV OPERASYONU​ This document is classified and intended solely for official use within the Turkish Armed Forces. It contains sensitive operational details and is not to be viewed, shared, or disseminated outside of authorized personnel. Unauthorized access or distribution of this document is strictly prohibited. Please ensure the return of this document to the Turkish General Staff Building, located at Bakanlıklar, Çankaya, Ankara.

SECRET Operation Parameters​ Mission Planning: Objective Definition: Sever PKK reinforcement and resupply routes into the Duhok pocket; secure the Zakho–Mala Arab–Qadish corridor and the crossings toward Erbil, Mosul, and Sulaimaniyah; conduct sustained clearance of fixed PKK infrastructure in the Ari–Choman corridor. Area of Operations: Duhok Governorate and adjoining Erbil Governorate approaches. Peshmerga-garrisoned routes are deconflicted via a standing channel with the Kurdistan Regional Government and are not to be entered absent separate authorization. Pre-Mission Preparation Force Generation: 3rd CAAD, 5th Airborne, and 10th Mountain at full readiness. Corps troops staged at forward marshalling areas along the border. Follow-on mechanized brigade held at Land Forces Command reserve, uncommitted. Detainee Handling Gendarmerie Officers' elements, attached to each division, conduct initial screening at forward collection points, separated from combat units. Personnel held past initial screening were transferred to a facility inside Turkish territory within 72 hours. Personnel of intelligence value transferred to MIT custody under Justice Ministry-approved interrogation standards.

END OF DOCUMENT BELGENİN SONU​

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CAMPAIGN REGISTER

Phase	Description	Status
Tigris Saber – Phase I: Border Crossing & Approach 3rd CAAD, Ibrahim Khalil to Mala Arab	3rd "Gergedan" Combined Arms Armored Division crosses at Ibrahim Khalil and advances through Zakho, Dar Huzan, and Hezawa. Limited resistance is expected through these towns; PKK forces are assessed to fall back on Mala Arab and commit to its defense. Division secures Mala Arab to conclude Phase I. Kirpi-led route clearance and engineer bridging are prioritized across the Dar Huzan wadis.	Completed
Tigris Saber – Phase II: Advance to Qadish 3rd CAAD, Batifa to Qadish	Following consolidation at Mala Arab, 3rd CAAD reorganizes and advances from Batifa to Bamerne, continuing to Qadish. Terrain and road quality degrade along this axis; close air support constrained by ridgeline masking. Phase contingent on Tigris Storm securing the division's northern flank prior to commitment past Batifa.	Active
Tigris Storm: Airborne Envelopment 5th Airborne, Bahadre Mountain Pass – four-point insertion	5th "Kartal" Airborne Division air-assaults into Bahadre Mountain Pass and splits into four elements: westward to Namrik, eastward to Mrebah, with additional detachments assaulting Bakrman and Baurki. Objective is to sever all routes by which PKK elements north of Duhok could reinforce Batifa, isolating Duhok and protecting 3rd CAAD's Phase II advance. Executes concurrent with the final 48 hours of Phase I. T129 ATAK conducts preparatory fires on landing zones ahead of troop-carrying serials.	Active
Tigris Scale: Mountain Clearance 10th Mountain, Beduhe to Ari / Choman	10th Mountain Division crosses at Beduhe and advances through Kani Masi and Bere Sile, turning east through Resava and Gunde Site to Dore, where the division splits into two assault groups — one toward Ari, one toward Choman — for sustained clearance of fixed PKK infrastructure. Longest phase of the operation; terrain favors ambush and mine warfare over maneuver. Weather window over the Choman passes assessed at six to eight weeks from execution before closure.	Active

 

[Jay]

SECRET
​

The trains came first. Flatcars rolled into the railhead at Silopi through the night, tank after tank chained down under tarpaulins that did nothing to disguise their shape, and by morning the yard was a forest of gun barrels pointed at a sky. Ramps went down. Engines that had sat cold for the loading turned over one by one, diesel smoke hanging low over the gravel, and the tanks rolled off under their own power onto marshaling ground.

Officers with clipboards walked the lines, matching hull numbers to manifests, waving vehicles left or right into columns that would not move again until the order came. Fuel trucks worked the rows. Somewhere, a loudspeaker was calling names, company by company, and nobody hurried, and nobody was late.

They came back from leave in a row of buses that cruised into garrison gates at two in the morning, trains disgorging men with duffel bags onto platforms where military police checked names against a roster, private cars driven by fathers or brothers dropping sons at the wire with a handshake through the window. Gate logs filled a page an hour. By the second day, the barracks that had been half-empty for a rotation of leave were full again, bunks made, kit laid out, men who had been civilians three days earlier standing in formation like they had never left it.

The columns then began moving south in the dark and kept moving through the day that followed, tank transporters and troop trucks and fuel tankers stretched for kilometers along the highway toward the border, engines a single continuous note that towns could hear coming a quarter hour before the first vehicle appeared. In Batman, in Mardin, in the small crossroads towns that existed mostly because a road happened to pass through them, people came out to watch. Flags appeared from somewhere, car windows, balconies, the hands of children held up on their fathers' shoulders, and horns started up in a ragged, spreading.

Outside one garrison gate, a woman in a headscarf held her son's face in both hands and kissed his forehead, once, and said something to him that nobody else needed to hear, and stepped back before he could see her face change. His father stood a pace behind her and didn't do that. He straightened his son's collar instead, and when the boy climbed up into the truck bed, his father raised his hand to his brow, held it there a beat longer than dropped it. The same scene repeated itself, with small variations, at every gate along every road the columns used, hundreds of times over, until it stopped being a scene at all and simply became what departure looked like that week.

At Görümlü and the forward strips north of it, the airborne division filled its bases slowly. Formations assembled on tarmac still dark from the last rain, kit stacked in neat rows beside each man, and the aircraft waited for them in long silent lines, rotors still, ramps down, ground crews doing the last of the work by floodlight because the days had stopped being long enough for daylight alone. Company by company, the formations broke apart into loading order and came back together at the base of the ramps. Some of the division's air assault units had begun deploying from helicopters in final preparations.

Further west, the mechanized regiments came together around their vehicles, checking hatches, stowing kit, loading belts of ammunition that had arrived by truck under guard and left again the moment the count was verified. Whole battalions stood parked in staging fields turned to churned mud by the weight of everything sitting on them, engines silent.

At the Joint Task Force operations center outside Diyarbakır, nobody was going home. Coffee machines running dry and being refilled, cots appearing in side offices, a stack of pizza boxes accumulating by the duty desk. Phones rang in overlapping waves. Status boards updated themselves in small increments all night, green replacing amber one line at a time as units reported final readiness from railheads and marshaling grounds and forward strips scattered across three provinces. Runners moved between offices with printouts nobody had bothered to route electronically because paper was faster when everyone in the building already knew where to find everyone else. Somewhere past midnight, a junior officer walked the length of the main floor collecting empty cups as Operation Hammer began to piece itself together.

The Turkish Pilots walked out of the briefing room, their helmets under one arm, as their eyes narrowed at the sight of their F-16s waiting on the flight line. The sleek fighter gleams in the fading light. Their aircraft were already outfitted with weapons systems and ready for take-off thanks to the diligent work of their ground crews. The pilots had only just completed their air campaign and were now on standby to assist the ground forces apart of Operation Hammer.

The first piece of Operation Hammer was already underway. Units attached to the 61st Mountain Reconnaissance Battalion, a special operations unit, were already on their way to the Qandil Mountains. The 1st and 2nd Squad of 1st Platoon of the 61st would HALO drop into the outskirts of Erbil. Their aircraft would take them to 36.19262, 43.76566, and 36.32002, 44.28624 where the two squadrons began surveillance operations. All units were equipped for a week-long surveillance operation carrying all the ammo, MREs, and surveillance equipment they needed for the duration of their mission. All other Turkish vehicles and aircraft were fueled and armed, their personnel briefed and readied. Ground forces checked all their equipment and made sure they were prepared for their impending assault.

 

[Jay]

SECRET

​

In a matter of hours the PKK began setting up in their respective positions, preparing to resist the Turkish invasion. Kurdish rebels were divided into company-sized elements at the start of the month. Kurdish forces numbered only eight thousand strong, but they knew the terrain, had the support of the locals, and prepared to die for their homeland.

Across the frontier, PKK companies began preparing defenses. The thirty-two PKK companies were split across four main zones of defense. The first battle group of eight companies was to fight a delayed retreat from Mala Arab to Qadish, with orders for two companies not to retreat from Qadish.

The second and third battle groups were tasked with defending the main PKK bases in the Qandil Mountains. With the invasion imminent and time of the essence, the PKK resorted to general electronic communications between fighters to ensure the quality of orders and access to information. Commanders Cemil Bayık, Besê Hozat, Fehman Hüseyin, and Mustafa Karasu would each take command of a battle group with their orders from the PKK's political leadership in Bangkok and Erbil to delay the Turkish invasion, raise the cost on the invaders, and begin a propaganda campaign to raise public support.

Commanders Cemil Bayık and Fehman Hüseyin met in the PKK's main camp networks dividing their companies accordingly as to ensure maximal damage. Their mountainous hideouts favored them, and the Turks were unaware that the 10th Mountain would be clashing against the PKK's most battle-hardened units in close quarters. A fact both Bayık and Hüseyin were relying on.

Down in Mala Arab Mustafa Karasu had to deal with the impossible. He had the benefit that most of the weapons that the resistance had purchased were in his hands. He had his companies divided into small squads of hunter-killer teams. Five-man squads were armed with B-300 Siphon Recoilless Rifles and RPO-A Shmels. They were tasked with ambushing Turkish convoys that moved through the city streets. Smaller two-man teams were equipped with Kornets or Spikes, and then a rifle or light machine gun. They'd be roaming the mountain ranges and foliage to attack Turkish armored vehicles moving around. Karasu took one last look at the border with Turkey before turning his back and joining his men in Mala Arab to rally their spirits before he retreated back to his forward operating base in Qadish.

​

Meanwhile, at Erbil, the PKK's local political leadership, led by Rojda Felat was pleading with the KRG to assist the PKK in resisting the Turkish invasion. PKK fighters dug in alone on the outskirts of the city, preparing for what felt like a futile defense. With just five hundred fighters against what could only be tens of thousands of Turkish paratroopers expected to land in the city, the PKK fighters were in sullen moods.

However, the city's residents stared in disbelief as the uniformed Peshmerga simply stood there refusing to aid their brothers and sisters in arms. Hundreds of local residents began helping the PKK, digging trenches, reinforcing windows and doors with sandbags as they prepared for a siege. Perhaps the KRG would be forced into this conflict, its political leadership having to weigh the appropriate risks.

Commander Besê Hozat made a daring morning inspection of the defenses in Erbil, speaking with the troops and reorganizing portions of the defense. His goal was to the northwest of Mosul and Erbil, where the mountains and Cigli Suyu River respectively provided natural defensive lines. The PKK had to hide their defensive positions within the city and in small villages, forges, valleys, and other natural concealers as to avoid Turkish drones and aircrafts

Hozat observed the Igla-S MANPADS. They would be no doubt a surprise on the Turks. However, once used, they'd no longer have the element of surprise, and so he thought long and hard as to how to deploy them, as he expected the Turkish air forces to try and force an early capture of the two most important cities to the Kurdish resistance.

BATTLE ORDERS

 

[Jay]

SECRET​

The snow had started sometime during the Ambassador's meeting with President LaFleur. By the time the Turkish convoy turned back toward Massachusetts Avenue, Washington had transformed from a clear morning sky.

The marble buildings, bare trees, and government offices were covered in a thin layer of white. The city moved slower than usual. Cars crawled through the streets, their tires leaving dark tracks through the snow. Pedestrians walked with their heads lowered against the cold wind.

Serdar sat in the rear seat of the Range Rover, looking out the window. Mustafa had spent most of the drive back waiting for him to speak. He had known Serdar long enough to understand that silence was rarely accidental. The meeting had either gone very badly...or the Ambassador simply was exhausted. He wasn't the type of man who became quiet because he had nothing to say. Usually, it meant he was considering exactly how much he was willing to say.

Across from him, İkra Kuyumcu sat with a folder resting on her lap. She had expected the Ambassador to ask her opinion of the meeting, to make another joke about American architecture, or perhaps to tell another story. Instead, Serdar simply watched the snow.

Finally, Mustafa broke the silence. "Ambassador?"

Serdar looked away from the window. "Yes?"

"How did it go?" He asked.

The Ambassador looked at him for a moment. "President LaFleur is an intelligent man. To be honest, I didn't expect it given his background." Serdar leaned back into his chair. "He seemed...ordinary. The last President I met with that effect was President Clinton when I was a junior officer in Washington back in '93."

Mustafa waited. That was not the answer he was looking for. "And?"


Serdar adjusted his coat sleeve. "And he listens, more than he should for a President. Perhaps that is what got him elected. He listens more than he speaks."

Again, silence. Mustafa glanced briefly toward the front of the vehicle. Sayri remained focused on the road, but even he could tell that the conversation was not going anywhere.

"The Americans had concerns," Mustafa said carefully.

"They did." Serdar nodded.

"About the operation?" Mustafa asked.

Serdar looked back toward the falling snow. "About many things. About many things Mustafa."

Mustafa nodded slowly. He knew there was no point in pressing it now.

The convoy eventually turned through the gates of the Turkish Embassy. Security personnel stepped outside, holding umbrellas as the vehicles came to a stop. Serdar opened the door himself before anyone could reach it.

Inside the Embassy, the warmth immediately contrasted with the freezing air outside. Staff members moved through the corridors carrying documents, phones rang in distant offices, and diplomats paused briefly when they saw the Ambassador returning.

He removed his coat and handed it to one of the staff members. "Mustafa."

"Yes, Ambassador?" Mustafa said.

"Prepare a secure communication with Ankara."

Mustafa straightened slightly. "With the Foreign Ministry?"

Serdar looked at him, shaking his head. "No." Giving only a brief pause. "The Prime Minister's office, please. Tell them it is urgent."

Mustafa nodded. "Should I prepare a briefing packet?"


"No." Serdar shook his head. "Just arrange the call."

The Ambassador walked toward his office.

İkra followed a few steps behind before stopping. "Sir?"

Serdar turned.

The young military attaché looked as though she wanted to ask the question everyone else wanted answered. "Should I relay anything to the General Staff?"

For a moment, Serdar simply looked at her. Then he shook his head. "No. But I want you to keep in contact with your Pentagon counterparts. The White House will want information on a rolling-basis so it is best we keep them informed.

Before İkra could say anything also Serdar turned his back and entered his office, closing the door.

Twenty minutes later, the secure and encrypted communications room beneath the Embassy was active.

Mustafa stood beside the communications officer, watching the clock. He had served alongside Serdar long enough to know when something significant had happened.

This was one of those moments. Upstairs, the Ambassador stood alone near the window of his office.


Washington stretched before him beneath the snowfall. The city was almost peaceful.

A knock came at the door. "Ambassador?"

Serdar turned to see his secretary outside.

"Yes Efat?"

"The Prime Minister's office is ready. She will be on line one." Efat said eyeing the secured phone on his desk.

Serdar nodded once.

"Thank you Efat. That will be all." He picked up the secure telephone.

For a moment, he looked at the receiver. Then he pressed the button.

Back in Ankara Ayşe Çiller sat behind her desk with Sümeyye standing nearby. Chief of Staff Kaan Yaman had finally opened his notebook. The secure telephone rang.

Everyone looked toward it.

Sümeyye reached for the receiver but stopped.

Çiller picked it up herself.

"This is Prime Minister Çiller."

There was a brief pause.

Then Serdar's voice came through the encrypted line.

"Madam Prime Minister."

The Prime Minister's expression changed slightly. "Ambassador. How did it go with President LaFleur?"

Across the ocean, Serdar looked once more at the snow-covered streets of Washington. "The President received us well. I believe I made a good first impression and it seems the State Department is becoming more pro-Turkish."

Çiller waited. "That is good to hear. Keep up the work you are doing there. We will need to improve our lobbying presence with Congress but the White House is a good start. Make sure you make inroads with the Kennedys and Democrats so they don't feel like we are alienatign them.

"Yes ma'am." Serdar said before he could continue Ayşe cut him off. "However that is not why we are having this conversation is it Ambassador."

Serdar remained quiet for several seconds. Not because he didn't know what to say. Because he understood the importance of saying it.

Finally, he spoke. "No, Madam Prime Minister...It is not"

The room in Ankara became completely still. "The Americans have given us the green light. Tigris Storm is a go."

No one moved for a second before Ayşe nodded to Kaan to make the call. "Thank you Ambassador. Give your briefing notes to the Foreign Minister and I look forward to speaking with you again later. Good afternoon.

Kaan then walked over to pick up a second reciever and dialed a number. On the other end General Uzun picked up the phone.

Çiller tightened her grip on the receiver as she waited for Kaan to dial the number. When he gave the thumbs up. She switched lines.

"General Uzun. Operation Tigris Storm is a go. You have the greenlight. Godspeed."

"Thank you Madam Prime Minister." Uzun said as the line was hung after that.

---

Mud drifted sideways past the tent flap as Lt. Col. Kürşat Demir pushed through it, stamping his boots twice before stepping inside. An NCO sat behind a folding table, looking up at him.

"I lost my compass on the last exercise. Was told to get a replacement here."

The soldier nodded. "Down to the right."

Kürşat moved into the next compartment, shaking the last of the hardened sand off his shoulders. It had been a week since they'd left garrison for the border, and the men were starting to show it, faces a little more drawn, voices a little quieter in the mornings.

"Kürşat. Saved you a seat." Yavuz Öztürk waved him over. Kürşat took the seat next to him.

"You remember Hüseyin and Öztürk from 11th, right?"

"Isparta. Officer course." Kürşat looked across the tent and caught Lt. Col. Hüseyin Ercan's eye. A short nod passed between them. Lt. Col. Öztürk Kınalı gave the same. "It's been a while, gentlemen. Good to have you guys on the field with us."

"Like wise." The two said.

Kürşat noticed two general officers near the front, Brig. Gen. Cevik Gündoğan and Brig. Gen. Orçun Tekeli, standing off to one side with Division's senior staff.

Lt. Col. Aksal Erden leaned over from the next row. "Must be serious if they're pulling those two out of theater command."

Kürşat nodded. "I heard they brought Tekeli from Aegan Command and staffed him on Tigris Storm."

Yavuz passed him a cup of coffee, still warm. "Heard Cevik just came from the eagle troopers. Word is we're going in first. Not the airborne."

Lt. Col. Alperen Korkmaz, a row up, turned around grinning. "Good. Let's show the mountain boys and the paratroopers what real fighting looks like."

The flap opened as Maj. Gen. Batu Celal walked in, and the tent came to its feet as one. "Attention." Captain Ercan Adin sshouted.

"At ease, gentlemen." Batu said agains the sound of chairs and boots settling. Batu stood at the front, hands behind his back.

"I've just gotten word from Theater Command. We have the green light. Operation Tigris Saber is a go." He paused. "General Nihat Uzun wants 3rd Armored leading the charge. We will be the first Turkish division to cross into Iraq since Hammer in 1995."

Batu let the silence sit for a moment, letting the weight of "since Hammer in 1995" settle over the tent. A few of the younger officers exchanged glances. Kürşat felt Yavuz nudge his boot under the table.

"Captain Adin. Bring them to the map." The General said.

Ercan stood and moved to the front. An aide unrolled a terrain map across the table, weighing the corners down with spent casings. Zakho, Dar Huzan, and Hezawa were marked in blue. Mala Arab sat circled in red, three arrows pointing toward it.

The Division XO, Lt. Col. Serhat Onbaşı, stepped up with a pointer.

"Division's main thrust goes through Avkani. That's the center. That's us."

He moved the pointer left. "20th Regiment, Colonel Kılıç, west flank through Khizava."

Col. Mete Kılıç nodded once, arms crossed.

The pointer swung right. "11th Armored, east through Khwake."

Akinci gave a short nod of his own. "This is a pincer." Serhat showing the two units moving across the flanks of Mala Arab. "Two arms closing on Mala Arab. The 22nd will lead the main column thrust through the city. Speed will be the key. While Task Force Apple takes positions covering the main egress out of Mala Arab."

Serhat looked up from the map.

"2nd Tank Battalion. 11th Armored Recon. 1st Mechanized out of 22nd Regiment. You three will form Task Force Apple. Your job isn't to punch through the town. Get behind it. Cut the retreat axis before the PKK know it's gone."

Kınalı leaned toward Aksal beside him. "Recon's riding with us again."

"Somebody has to tell you where not to drive," Aksal said, eyes still on the map gaining a soft laugh from the others around him."

Serhat continued. "Intel puts Mala Arab's population between two hundred thirty-seven and two hundred fifty. Civilians. We're also tracking a PKK battle group in the town, roughly two hundred fifty fighters. That's near one-to-one with civilians on the ground."

The tent was quiet.

"Check your fire. If you're not certain, you don't take the shot."

He went on. "PKK will not stand and trade with armor. They'll move through the town, use the buildings, try to bleed you house to house if you let them. Don't clump your formations. Use the open ground north and east, that's yours, not theirs. Keep standoff distance and make them cross open ground if they want a fight."

He looked to the mechanized officers.

"Armor holds the line and the standoff. Infantry dismounts, enters the village, clears it block by block. Once it's clear, engineers move in behind you and check every road and culvert before anything wheeled goes further."

Lt. Col. Akunal Necmi, 8th Engineers, raised two fingers. "We'll be there. Kirpis are already moving to clear the routes through Dar Huzan. Try not to get ahead of us at the wadis."

"Noted, Colonel," Serhat said. "Try to keep up."

A short laugh went around the tent. Even Col. Deniz Yener, quiet until now, allowed himself a smile.

"Once Mala Arab is secured, that's Phase One. Division pushes on to Sirkötki and Batifa. We take both. We hold."

He paused.

"Ten hours. 10th Mountain's operation starts at T plus ten from our seizure. Batifa draws the PKK down out of the high ground. If we don't take it clean and hold it, the rest of the plan doesn't happen the way it's supposed to."

Alperen muttered, "Mountain troops need us to do their work for them."

"We're the god damn infantry Alperen. Of course they do." Yavuz said.

"Once Batifa is secure and holding," Serhat said, "the airborne phase begins."

He stepped back. Batu took the front again.

"Some of you have heard the paratroopers think they're the tip of the spear on this one." His voice stayed even. "They're not. We are. I want every one of you to remember that. We are the fist. We are the hammer. We are the storm. "

Kınalı leaned back in his chair. "Those paratroopers can jump into a town we've already cleared for them. Saves them the trouble of finding it."

"I know some of you fought in the mountains in 1995," Batu said. "I know some of you weren't born the first time this division earned its stripes in '82 when the Syrians thought they could tussle with the Anatolian Wolf. It doesn't matter. Tonight you will add to that long history of this division. You better make me damn proud."

He looked around the tent, resting for a moment on the younger faces. "Get your men fed. Get them warm while you still can. Zero hour is coming, and after tonight none of us sleep much until Mala Arab is ours."

He straightened. "Dismissed. Battalion commanders, five minutes with regimental staff before you go."

Chairs scraped back. Men gathered maps and notebooks and cold coffee, moving out into the snow, where the tanks sat waiting in the dark, engines silent, turrets already turned south toward the border.

Yavuz clapped Kürşat on the shoulder as they stepped outside. "See you on the other side of the wire."

"Knowing you did in landnav, we probably won't," Kürşat said with a smile.

---

The green light came down through Theater Command at 0400, two days before zero hour. Zero hour itself was set for 0635.

Ammunition trucks ran back and forth from the depot until the racks in every Leopard and every vehicle sat full. Five days of rations, fuel, and spares were packed into every spare compartment the vehicles had, crammed into hulls until the crews joked there was barely room left for themselves. Water cans lashed to hull sides. Med kits checked twice. Nobody said much about what five days actually meant.

At 0300 on the day of, the division began to move. They crossed at Ibrahim Khalil in the dark, headlights blacked out, engines a low continuous growl stretching back along the road for kilometers. On the Iraqi side, Peshmerga fighters watched from their positions near the crossing, saying nothing, doing nothing, as Iraqi Federal Police simply abandoned their checkpoint and walked off into the pre-dawn without a shot fired. The border posts sat empty by the time the lead tanks of 11th Armored Recon rolled through.

The PKK's Spotters had almost certainly watched the buildup from the ridgelines for days, and now they'd have watched a division cross a border in the dark and vanish south toward Zakho. There was no undoing that. By 0635, the sun was coming up cold and pale over the hills, and the lead elements of 3rd Division were already past the border and moving.

​

Operation Tigris Saber had begun.

CURRENT LINE OF CONTACT AS OF POST #4

 

[Jay]

SECRET​

Komutan Rojhat lay flat behind the Kornet's tripod, breath fogging in the cold morning air. Through the scope, the column was still a kilometer out, dust rising behind it in a long gray smear against the pale sky.

Beside him, his gunner, a boy no older than twenty who went by Sores, kept his eye pressed to the sight.

"How many," Rojhat said.

"Many." Sores didn't look up. "Bradleys. Six, seven. More behind. Probably a battalion-sized element."

Rojhat had two hundred and fifty men. He had heard the number the Turks were sending and had not believed it until now, watching the column stretch back further than the treeline could contain in a single glance.

"We need to hold," he said, more to himself than to Sores. "We slow them here. We do not need to win. We need to cost them."

Rojhat then turned to his men and gave the signal for the ATGM teams to begin firing. Sores' finger found the trigger as three missiles began flying towards the Turkish column.

The world went white, then orange, then a sound arrived that Lt. Col. Soylu Sağlık felt in his chest before his ears caught up to it. The lead Bradley in 2nd Platoon's column bucked sideways, a gout of black smoke rolling off its flank.

"CONTACT NORTH, ATGM, TREELINE!" someone was screaming over the net.

Soylu keyed his radio, forcing his voice level even as the second missile streaked in, missing wide, exploding somewhere behind the column in a field. "DISMOUNT. DISMOUNT." He screamed.

The column stuttered to a stop, vehicles fanning out where the terrain allowed, turrets swinging toward the source. A layer of surpressive fire rang towards where the missles had come from.

Soylu then turned to his radiomen and told him to tell Regiment HQ that they had taken contact.

Just then another missile streaked in and hit the vehicle behind Soylu sending a bright orange flame outward as the infantry nearest to the vehicle were thrown backwards.

Soylu then spoke into his radio. "All 1st Battalion elements, this is Six, we have Kornet fire from the north treeline, all vehicles halt and orient, do not advance into the engagement area."

"Six, this is Two-One." His company commander's voice, tight but steady. "We've got a KIA vehicle. Crew's out, two wounded. Requesting guidance."

Soylu looked at the treeline through his optics. Smoke, muzzle flashes, and beyond it, low rooftops, Mala Arab sitting quiet and pale in the early light like it hadn't just watched a man die in front of it.

"Two-One, this is Six. Smoke, now. All Bradleys, lay smoke across the front, then dismount your infantry. We are not sitting here and trading ATGMs with a treeline. Get boots on the ground and get them moving."

Soylu then began moving amongst the dismounted infantry as some huddled together behind vehicles while others laid in the ditch not sure what to do. He screamed to them to move. Jumping down and kicking them as he pointed to the treeline and screaming to move.

Rojhat watched the smoke bloom across the field, thick white curtains rolling out from a dozen points along the Turkish line simultaneously, and understood immediately what it meant.

"They're dismounting," he said.

Sores was already reloading, hands fast on the second round. "Reengage the lead vehicle..."

"No." Rojhat put a hand on his shoulder. "We need to move." He said just as a round from the Bradley's main turret pulverized Sores right in the face.

"Fuck" Rojhat screamed as he tried crawling out of the room. Whe he made it out he turned, shouting down the line in Kurdish, voices repeating the order back through the treeline and into the outskirts of the town. Ordering the men to fall back to the hedgerows.

As the Kurds began falling back, Kürşat's platoon spilled out into smoke so thick it swallowed the Bradley behind them within three steps. Onbaşı Ferhat went down on one knee automatically, weapon up, the rest of the squad fanning out on either side of him without needing to be told. Their platoon's heavy weapons fired down the line towards the fleeing Kurdish units as Kürşat shouted orders.

"Move, move, into the hedges, don't clump!" Kürşat's voice was muffled through the smoke as he got his men into the hedges.

They crossed the open ground at a crouched run, boots slipping on wet grass, the world reduced to gray haze and the shapes of the men to either side of them. Somewhere behind, the Bradleys' 25mm cannons opened up, a steady chattering thump that Kürşat felt more than heard, rounds walking along the treeline ahead of them.

He reached the first hedgerow and dropped behind it, chest heaving, and looked back. The Bradleys were still where they'd stopped, turrets tracking, thermal sights doing the work human eyes couldn't through the smoke.

"Thermal's got movement, forty meters, treeline center," his platoon sergeant relayed, crouched beside him with the radio pressed to his ear.

Kürşat looked at his men, spread along the hedge in twos and threes exactly the way they'd been told, not bunched, not exposed.

"Suppress and advance by team. First and Second, go. Keep Third back to give us covering fire and have Fourth ready to cover Third."

As the Turks moved closer, the Kurds finally made it to their fallback position.

The PKK fighters began reassembling into small teams of two. Bexşan didn't understand how they knew where he was until the hedge six feet from his head simply came apart, chewed to splinters by something heavy and fast that he only understood afterward had been a Bradley's main gun, firing blind into a position it shouldn't have been able to see.

"THERMALS!" someone shouted. "They see us through the smoke, fall back, fall back to the houses!"

Behrem grabbed Ardem by the collar and hauled him backward as the hedge disintegrated where they'd been a second before. They ran, crouched, boots pounding through mud, other fighters breaking from cover around them in twos, falling back toward the first row of houses at the edge of Mala Arab.

Rojhat risked a glance back through the thinning smoke. He could see them now, small dark shapes moving hedge to hedge in the open ground, methodical, unhurried, covering each other in a rhythm his own men couldn't match.

We are not slowing them, he thought, trying to figure out what the hell he could do to stall their advance.

Lt. Col. Aksal Erden's voice came over the battalion net, clipped and businesslike. "Six, this is Recon Six. 11th Armored is in position south of Khwake, we are moving to cut the road behind the town now."

Soylu allowed himself a short breath. "Copy, Recon Six. Close it fast, we don't want anyone slipping out the back while we're clearing the front."

Kürşat's platoon reached the last hedgerow before the village proper, the houses close now, close enough to see individual windows, laundry lines, a chicken coop someone had abandoned in a hurry.

"This is it," he said. "House to house from here. Grenade first, clear second."

Ferhat nodded, already moving to the first doorway, pin pulled, grenade through the window, the two of them pressed flat against the wall as the muffled crump went off inside.

They went in low, weapons up, found nothing but an overturned table and broken glass.

"Clear!"

They moved to the next house, and the one after that, the rhythm settling into something almost mechanical, until Kürşat's radio crackled.

"All elements, this is Six. Be advised, we are now inside civilian structures. Switch to flashbangs, I say again, flashbangs only past this point, do not frag occupied structures unless you're taking fire."

Kürşat exhaled and looked at Ferhat. "You heard him."

Ferhat swapped the grenade in his hand for a flashbang, the motion quick, practiced. "Copy. Flash and clear."

They reached the next doorway. Ferhat kicked it in, tossed the flashbang inside, both men turning away as the sharp crack and white flash went off, then moved in fast behind it, sweeping the room, an old man and two children crouched against the far wall, hands over their ears, terrified but alive.

The 22nd continued their assault, clearing rooms, shooting PKK fighters in a now routine engagement. The fighting grew tense as the PKK managed to pick off a few soldiers with sporadic sniper fire or loose grenades.

Rojhat had maybe forty men left with him by the time he understood it was over, not lost, but over, the Turks pressing in from three sides now, the road south already cut by armor he could hear but not see.

Ardem crouched beside him behind a low garden wall, breathing hard, reloading with hands that had started to shake.

"Komutan," he said. "The road. It's gone. Erhan said the tanks are already past Khwake."

Rojhat looked at the wall, at the sound of Bradleys' engines growing closer through the streets, at his own dwindling ammunition, and finally realized there was no hope.

"We break north, in small groups. No more than four together. Scatter into the wadis, we regroup at the fallback position." He looked at Ardem. "Get yourselves out of here. Go."

As some of the men tried to flee, they'd. the open by thebe caught out ins and Fourth Platoon laying down suppressive fire. Apple Task Force had completed its envelopment and caught another ten fighters who decided it was better to surrender."

Sergent Ordu turned on his radio to radio the battalion. "Six, this is Fourth platoon. Village is ninety percent clear, minimal remaining resistance, contacts breaking north in small groups."

Soylu stood at the edge of what had been the treeline forty minutes earlier, now churned mud and Bradley tracks, smoke still drifting low across the field behind him.

"Copy, Fourth Platoon Recon Six, status on the southern cutoff."

Aksal's voice came back. "Road's cut, Six. Caught a handful trying to run it, the rest scattered into the wadis before we could close the net all the way. We'll push a screen out to slow the ones headed toward Batifa but we won't get all of them."

Soylu looked at his watch. "Copy. Get me a casualty count and start pushing engineers in behind the infantry. I want those roads checked before anything else rolls through." He paused, looking at the quiet houses ahead of him, smoke still curling from two of them.

 

[Jay]

SECRET​

Overhead, the weather had broken an hour before dawn, the low ceiling that had grounded them since midnight finally lifting into a hard blue morning. Frost still clung to the rotor blades of the birds nearest the tree line, and ground crews moved between the aircraft with de-icing sprayers slung over their shoulders, working the leading edges of the blades by headlamp.

Lt. Col. Ozler Baser sat in the jump seat of the lead Chinook, helmet off, running a thumb along the edge of his map case. Around him his headquarters section sat in silence.

"Two minutes to spin-up," the crew chief called back.

Baser looked down the length of the cabin at his men. Thirty-one of them crammed shoulder to shoulder along the troop seats, weapons between their knees, rucks stacked at their feet.

"Helmets on," he said.

The order carried down the line without needing to be shouted twice. Men who had been resting their heads against the cabin wall sat forward. Chin straps clicked into place one after another down the row.

At 0512 the first rotors turned. By 0519 the field outside Silopi was empty air and settling dust, forty-one aircraft strung out in three serials climbing east toward the border and the dark mass of the Zagros foothills beyond it. Berk watched them go from the tarmac before walking to his own aircraft, a Black Hawk configured for command and control, its interior crowded with radio racks and a folding map table bolted to the deck.

"Division jump CP is airborne," Abaci said into his headset once they'd cleared the field.

Above the formation, four T129 ATAK gunships flew a racetrack pattern at eight thousand feet, call signs Şahin One through Four. Maj. Deniz Koru led the flight from the front seat of Şahin One, his gunner, Üsteğmen Baturay Sancak, running through the targeting pod in the rear cockpit.

"Bahadre LZ Alpha, thirty seconds out," Sancak said over the intercom.

Koru banked the aircraft slightly, bringing the nose around toward the saddle in the ridgeline where the pass narrowed between two peaks, the ground still dark with shadow though the sky above had gone pale gold.

"Anything moving?"

"Negative. FLIR's clean. No heat signatures on the LZ itself." Sancak paused, scanning the terrain further out. "Got something on the tree line, east side. Could be goats."

"Could be." Koru didn't sound convinced. " Keep the pod on it."

The four gunships worked the LZ in pairs, Şahin One and Two sweeping low across the saddle while Three and Four held high cover, cannons trained on the surrounding slopes. Koru brought his aircraft down to three hundred feet, slow enough that Sancak could pick apart the terrain feature by feature, the scrub brush, the goat trail switch-backing up the eastern slope, a collapsed stone shepherd's hut near the base of the ridge.

"Clear," Sancak finally said. "Nothing hot. I'd still put rounds into that tree line before the birds come in, Major. Standard prep."


Koru keyed his radio to the flight net. "Şahin flight, this is Şahin One. Prep fires on the eastern tree line, LZ Alpha, danger close is two hundred meters from the touchdown point. Three, Four, hold high cover. One and Two, we're going hot."

"Şahin Two, copy."

Koru rolled the aircraft into a shallow dive before the 20mm chugged out a burst that chewed through the brush line in a ragged stitch of dust and shredded branches. Behind him Şahin Two followed the same run thirty meters to the south, their bursts overlapping at the center of the tree line where Sancak's earlier heat signature had flickered.

Nothing moved. No secondary explosions, no return fire, just torn vegetation and a thin curl of dust drifting off on the wind.

"LZ Alpha is prepped," Koru radioed. "Serial One, you are clear to land."

The lead Chinook flared hard over the saddle, nose up, rotor wash flattening the scrub grass into a wide brown circle beneath it. Baser was first off the ramp, weapon up, his platoon spilling out behind him in two files that peeled left and right the moment their boots hit gravel.

The aircraft was airborne again within forty seconds, banking hard south to clear the saddle for the next bird already inbound behind it. Baser's men fanned out along the tree line the ATAK had just worked over, some of them stepping past shredded branches and splintered bark, one soldier pausing to look at a chunk of stone knocked clean off the shepherd's hut before his sergeant shoved him forward.

By 0541 the saddle held four platoons, the second wave of Chinooks and Black Hawks coming in behind the first in a staggered rotation that never left the LZ empty for more than ninety seconds. Baser moved along the tree line establishing his perimeter, radio traffic overlapping from three different nets as the battalion's companies called in their positions.

"Six, this is Bravo Two-One, LZ Alpha secure, no contact, establishing perimeter north side."

"Six, this is Charlie Two-One, same, south side clear."

Baser allowed himself a short breath. Clean. Uneventful. Exactly the kind of landing nobody wrote home about, which was the kind he preferred.

Behind 1st Battalion, Lt. Col. Yuce Dink's 2nd Airborne Battalion came in on the third and fourth waves, their Chinooks stacking into the saddle in the same ninety-second intervals. Dink stood near the ramp of his own aircraft, watching the ground crew wave the birds down through the settling dust of the previous landing.

"Third wave's down," his adjutant reported. "No issues on approach."

"Get the mortars set up the second they're off the birds," Dink said. "If Baser's people take contact pushing out, I want fire support ready before anyone asks for it."

The 81mm sections came off the fourth Chinook, base plates and tubes broken down into man-portable loads, crews already jogging toward a flat shelf of ground fifty meters off the LZ where the terrain gave them a clear arc south and west without masking against the ridgeline. Onbaşı Metin Sarı dropped his base plate, stamped it twice into the gravel to seat it, and had the tube mounted within ninety seconds of the aircraft lifting off behind him.

"First gun up," Sarı called.

"Second gun, thirty seconds," came the reply from the next crew over.

Dink watched them work, satisfied, before turning his attention to the radio traffic building on the battalion net.

The second wave carried 2nd Air Assault Regiment east, toward the smaller landing zone cut into the hillside above Mrebah. Col. Ozenli Cakir rode in the command bird, headset pressed tight against one ear as he monitored three separate frequencies.

"LZ Bravo, five minutes," the pilot called back.

Lt. Col. Ferdi Aydogan's 1st Air Assault Battalion led the wave in, thirty Black Hawks in a loose trail formation descending toward a terraced hillside where old stone walls marked out fields long since abandoned to scrub. Aydogan sat forward in his seat, watching the ground rise to meet them through the open door.

"Door gunner's got movement," the crew chief said. "Ridge above the LZ, maybe four hundred meters."

Aydogan keyed his radio. "Kartal Six, this is One Battalion, possible contact ridge north of LZ Bravo, request ATAK support before we commit."

Şahin Three and Four peeled off from high cover and dropped toward the ridge, Sancak's counterpart in Şahin Three, Üsteğmen Kaan Dursun, working the targeting pod fast.

"Confirmed. Two, maybe three personnel, ridge line, looks like they're setting up a weapon. Tripod-mounted, can't confirm type from this angle."

"Şahin Three, you are cleared hot, ridge line above LZ Bravo."

The gunship rolled in, cannon opening up in a short burst that walked across the ridge crest. The figures scattered, one of them going down hard, the other two disappearing over the back slope of the ridge into dead ground the aircraft's optics couldn't follow.

"One down, two withdrawing east, out of sight," Dursun reported. "Recommend the ground element push security up that ridge fast, before they reset somewhere else."


Aydogan's Black Hawks touched down thirty seconds later, his lead platoon out the doors and moving before the rotors had finished their wash-down cycle.


"First platoon, up the ridge, now! Second, secure the LZ for the follow-on serial!"

Onbaşı Kadir Sezgin led the climb, his squad spread in a loose wedge up the slope, boots finding purchase on loose scree. Near the crest they found a shallow scrape dug into the hillside, a PKS machine gun still mounted on its tripod, abandoned, a smear of blood leading off toward the back slope where the two survivors had gone.

"Weapon's here, gunner's not," Sezgin called down. "Looks like they left in a hurry."

Aydogan came up behind him, breathing hard from the climb, looking at the abandoned position. "Spotters. They were watching the LZ, not defending it." He looked east, toward the low hills rolling away toward Mrebah proper. "Which means somebody down there already knows we're here."


Behind Aydogan's battalion, Lt. Col. Beri Engin's 2nd Air Assault Battalion came into LZ Bravo on the follow-on wave, six more Black Hawks flaring across the terraces in a staggered line. Engin was out of his aircraft before it had fully settled, boots hitting the packed earth of an old field terrace hard enough that he stumbled a step before catching himself.

"Second Battalion's down," he radioed to Cakir. "Moving to secure the eastern approach into Mrebah."

Lt. Col. Garip Karaduman's 3rd Air Assault Battalion followed thirty minutes behind, held in reserve at the LZ while the other two battalions pushed forward, his companies digging shallow fighting positions along the terrace walls in case the ridge contact turned into something larger.

It didn't. The ridge stayed quiet the rest of the morning, and by 0700 Engin's lead company had pushed two kilometers east without further contact, the terrain opening into rolling scrubland that gave them clear sightlines toward Mrebah itself, a cluster of flat-roofed houses built into the hillside above a dry wadi.

At Bahadre's western shoulder, 1st Airborne Battalion pushed out from the secured saddle toward Namrik, moving in a column along the goat trail that switch-backed down through terraced scrub. Baser had split his companies, Alpha leading, Bravo trailing in overwatch, Charlie held back at the LZ as a reserve.

The first shots came from somewhere above them, a long burst that stitched across the trail ahead of the point squad and sent everyone flat into whatever cover the terrain offered.

"CONTACT LEFT, HIGH GROUND!" someone screamed.

Onbaşı Tarkan Uzel hit the dirt behind a boulder the size of a car, his squad scattering into the scrub on either side of the trail. Rounds cracked overhead, close enough that he felt the pressure change against his ear.

"Where's it coming from?" his team leader shouted.

"Ridge, ridge above us, maybe two hundred meters, I don't have eyes on the gun!"

Baser was three switchbacks back, dropping to a knee behind a low stone wall as the burst continued, longer than a rifle, sustained in a way that meant a belt-fed weapon and someone confident enough to hold the trigger down.

"Get me eyes on that position," he snapped at his RTO. "And get Şahin flight back on station, I want that gun killed before we lose anyone up here."

The radio call went out. Above them, Koru brought Şahin One around in a tight bank, Sancak's targeting pod slewing across the ridge line as the aircraft closed the distance.

"Got it. Muzzle flash, ridge crest, looks like an HMG position, sandbagged. One shooter visible, maybe two more in the position."

"Şahin One, cleared hot."

Koru rolled in from the north, putting the sun at his back, the cannon opening up in a burst that hammered the ridge crest in a line of impacts that walked directly through the sandbagged position. The gun stopped firing mid-burst, the sound cutting off so abruptly that for a moment the whole trail below went quiet except for the fading rotor noise of the gunship pulling off target.

"Position destroyed," Sancak reported. "No movement."

Baser stood from behind the wall, waving his lead squad forward. "Up, up, keep moving, we're not stopping on this trail."

Uzel pushed his squad past the boulder, weapons still up, until they crested the switchback and found the HMG position above them, a PKM torn half off its tripod, one body slumped over the sandbags, two more scattered behind the position where the cannon rounds had caught them trying to displace. A belt of unfired 7.62 lay half-buried in the dirt where one of the dead men had dropped it.

"Clear," Uzel called down. "Gun's done."

The column started moving again, but the trail narrowed another two hundred meters on, funneling between a rock outcrop on the left and a steep drop on the right, and it was there that Alpha Company's point squad took fire a second time, this one closer, an LMG opening up from a stand of scrub brush no more than eighty meters off the trail.

"DOWN, DOWN!" Onbaşı Kaya Ertem shoved the man in front of him sideways into the ditch running along the trail's edge as rounds sparked off the rock face behind them.

Er Salim Doruk returned fire from a kneeling position, his rifle's muzzle flash lighting the scrub in short bursts, more instinct than aim, until his squad leader grabbed his shoulder and hauled him down flat.

"You're exposed, get down, let the gun team work."

The squad's own light machine gunner, Er Onur Yalman, crawled forward along the ditch until he had an angle on the scrub, laying down suppressive fire in long bursts that chewed the brush apart branch by branch. It bought thirty seconds, enough for Baser's mortar section back at the LZ to get a fire mission called in.

"Fire mission, grid follows," Baser's RTO relayed, reading coordinates off the map. "Adjust fire, LMG position, danger close two hundred meters from friendly forces."

Sarı's crew back at the saddle had the tube already laid on a general azimuth toward the sound of the firefight. The first round went out with a dull thump, arcing high over the ridge before dropping into the scrub thirty meters short of the actual position.

"Add fifty, repeat," came the correction over the net.

The second round landed closer, close enough that the LMG's fire finally stopped, whether from the blast itself or the crew withdrawing wasn't clear. Yalman kept his weapon trained on the scrub another ten seconds before his squad leader waved the advance forward.

They found the position empty when they reached it, the LMG itself gone, drag marks in the dirt leading away up a narrow defile that climbed further into the high ground, two spent belts and a torn medical dressing left behind in the haste of the withdrawal.

"They took the gun with them," Ertem said, crouching to look at the drag marks. "Wounded somebody too." He said, looking at the blood dripping down.

Baser came up behind the squad, looking at the defile the marks led into, steep and narrow, the kind of terrain that would slow a pursuit to a crawl and expose anyone following into a textbook ambush corridor. "Let them go. We're not chasing a fighting withdrawal into a chokepoint with a battalion still trying to clear a trail. Mark the position, keep moving toward Namrik."

At Bahadre's eastern approach, 3rd Airborne Battalion under Lt. Col. Ozler Erdemir moved to secure the ground between the saddle and the point where the terrain split toward Baurki, a smaller crossroads village that a single reinforced company detachment had been tasked to take independently of the regiment's main push.

Erdemir walked with his lead company, a compact man who preferred moving with his forward elements rather than running the battalion from a fixed position, a habit that made his staff nervous and his soldiers, by most accounts, fond of him.

"Command post's radioing for a sitrep," his RTO said.

"Tell them we're moving, no contact yet." Erdemir scanned the terrain ahead, low rolling hills dotted with scrub and the occasional stone wall marking old field boundaries. "That won't last. Nothing about this morning has been quiet for anyone else."

He was right within the half hour. The detachment bound for Baurki, a reinforced company pulled from 3rd Battalion and riding a separate flight of four Black Hawks, took fire on final approach to their own landing zone, a flat stretch of ground just north of the village itself.

"Taking fire, taking fire, left side!" the crew chief on the lead bird shouted, the aircraft's door gunner already returning fire with the door-mounted machine gun, tracers arcing down toward a low mud-brick structure at the edge of a field.

The pilot didn't abort the approach. He held the flare, touching down hard enough that men in the troop seats grabbed for handholds, and Yüzbaşı Talat Görgün was first off the ramp, weapon up, running his platoon toward a shallow irrigation ditch that gave them the only cover the LZ offered.

"Into the ditch, spread out, don't bunch up!"

Rounds cracked past them from the mud-brick structure, an HMG by the sound of it, heavier and slower than the LMG fire the battalion had already encountered near Namrik. Görgün's men returned fire from the ditch, more to keep heads down than with any expectation of hitting anything at two hundred meters through a firing port.

"Şahin flight, this is Baurki element, contact HMG position, mud structure north edge of the village, request immediate support!"

Şahin Two, still on station from the earlier prep runs at LZ Alpha, broke off and came around fast, Sancak's counterpart working the pod hard to acquire the position through the structure's narrow firing port.

"I've got the muzzle flash. Structure's small, single room probably, thick walls. Recommend a direct hit rather than a strafe, the walls might absorb a cannon pass."

"Şahin Two, cleared hot, your discretion on ordnance."

The gunship rolled in and fired a rocket, the structure's roof caving inward in a burst of dust and pulverized mud brick, the HMG's fire stopping instantly and permanently. Görgün waited another thirty seconds before waving his platoon up out of the ditch.

"Move up, clear the structure, watch for anyone still breathing in there."

They found two dead in the collapsed room, the HMG itself buried under fallen roof timbers, and no sign of a third crew member who residents later suggested, through a translator, was never there.

By 0730 the pattern had repeated itself across the four landing zones with a grim consistency, small pockets of PKK fighters, rarely more than four or five men, armed with HMGs or LMGs positioned on high ground or in isolated structures overlooking the approach lanes, engaging the helicopters or the ground elements briefly before the T129s found and destroyed the positions.

None of the engagements lasted more than a few minutes. None of the PKK positions survived contact with the gunships once located, though several withdrew before the aircraft could finish them, dragging weapons and wounded back into terrain the division's ground elements had neither the time nor the orders to pursue into.

Maj. Gen. Berk received the reports in the division's forward command post, a collapsible tent erected on the secured saddle at Bahadre within an hour of the first landing. Abaci stood beside him at the map table, moving small markers across the terrain as reports came in.

"Seven engagements as of oh-seven-thirty," Abaci said. "All light weapons, HMG or LMG, no RPGs, no ATGMs, nothing that would've forced us to change the flight plan. Casualties are light on our side, two wounded from the ground fire near Bakrman, one from the LZ contact near Namrik, nothing from the fighting directly around Bahadre."

"They weren't set up to stop us," Berk said, studying the map. "They were set up to slow us. Buy time for something."

"Buy time for what?"

Berk didn't answer immediately. He traced a finger along the ridge lines radiating out from Bahadre, toward Duhok in the south, toward the higher country to the north where the PKK's remaining strength in this sector was assessed to be withdrawing.

"Time to get word out," he finally said. "They could be trying to slow our advance to mobilize their response force. We won't have air cover forever. He looked up at Abaci. "Which means we don't slow down. Push the regiments to their objectives on schedule. I don't want to give them a chance to reset."

Abaci nodded and turned to the radio operator manning the division net. "Get me all three regimental commanders. Division wants confirmation everyone's still tracking their timeline."

Baser's 1st Airborne Regiment reached the outskirts of Namrik by 1100, the village little more than forty structures clustered around a dry creek bed, its residents having largely fled into the hills days before the operation began if the empty houses and cold hearths were any indication. Baser walked his companies through a methodical clear, house to house, finding nothing but abandoned belongings and, in one structure near the village center, a cache of small arms ammunition stacked in wooden crates that his men flagged for the engineers to deal with.

"No fighters," his company commander reported. "No civilians either, not that we can find. Looks like they cleared out ahead of us."

Baser stood in the village's small central square, looking south toward the higher ground where Namrik's inhabitants had presumably gone. "Keep two platoons here, establish a checkpoint on the road south. Rest of the battalion continues to the objective."

Behind him, Dink's 2nd Battalion moved through Namrik's western edge to establish a blocking position on the secondary trail that ran up toward the ridge where the HMG position had been destroyed that morning. Erdemir's 3rd Battalion held Bahadre itself, expanding the perimeter around the saddle to accommodate the division's growing logistics footprint, fuel bladders and ammunition pallets now stacked along the LZ's edge under camouflage netting.

Er Onur Yalman, still carrying the LMG that had bought his squad thirty seconds outside Namrik that morning, sat against a low wall in the village square eating from a ration pouch when Uzel dropped down beside him.

"You alright?"

"Fine." Yalman didn't look up from the pouch. "Barrel's shot, though. Changed it twice already and it's still not holding zero. Going to need a new one before we do that again."

"Put in for it at the resupply point. They're stacking crates at the LZ now."

Yalman grunted an acknowledgment and kept eating.

To the east, Cakir's 2nd Air Assault Regiment pushed through Mrebah against similarly light resistance, Aydogan's battalion finding the spotter position on the ridge had been the extent of organized defense in the immediate area. By early afternoon the regiment held both the village and the high ground surrounding it, patrols pushing further east to confirm the route toward Duhok remained cut.

The village itself yielded more than Namrik had. Engin's 2nd Battalion, clearing the eastern quarter, found a small radio set still transmitting intermittently in a house near the wadi, its operator gone but the equipment left running, tuned to a frequency the battalion's signals officer flagged immediately for the division's intelligence section.

"Somebody left in a hurry," Engin said, looking at the set. "Or wanted us to find this specifically."

His intelligence sergeant shrugged. "Could go either way, sir."

Karaduman's 3rd Battalion, released from reserve once the ridge contact had been resolved, moved up to occupy Mrebah's high ground directly, the same terrace where the spotter position had stood that morning now hosting a company-sized security element with clear sightlines down every approach into the village.

By 1400, Cakir reported the regiment's objective fully secured, patrols extended two kilometers in every direction without further contact.

Kekilli's 3rd Regiment took longer at Bakrman, the LMG position near the LZ proving to be one of several delaying actions scattered through the terrain approaching the town. Basaran's battalion fought through two more brief engagements before reaching the outskirts, small arms fire from rooftops that broke contact and withdrew the moment his platoons brought weight of fire to bear, never standing to fight a sustained action.

"They're not trying to hold anything," Basaran told Kekilli over the radio, crouched behind a low wall on Bakrman's edge while his lead platoon cleared the first row of houses. "Every position we've hit, they shoot and displace. Nobody's dug in."

"Delay elements," Kekilli agreed. "Somebody's buying time for the main body to get clear. Keep pushing, don't let them reset in the town itself."

Çavuş Barış Doğan's squad led the push into Bakrman's rock formation contact that morning, the LMG position that Şahin Four had eventually silenced with a low gun run, danger close authorized because the ground element already had cover.

Doğan's team found one PKK fighter dead against the stone, the LMG's barrel bent where a round had struck it directly. The second man was alive, wounded in the leg, weaponless, hands already coming up before anyone leveled a rifle at him.

"We caught a live one," Doğan called back. "Get me a medic up here."

The medic worked on the wounded man's leg in the open, applying a pressure dressing while two soldiers kept weapons trained on him from a few meters off.

Kekilli's 2nd Battalion under Lt. Col. Nur Karaduman moved through Bakrman's southern edge in parallel, meeting no resistance until a single sniper round cracked past the lead squad from a minaret near the town's small mosque. One of his men went down with a gush of blood squirting out of his neck.

"Sniper, minaret, mark it!" the squad leader shouted.

Şahin flight was already committed elsewhere, working the second Baurki contact, and Karaduman's men handled it themselves, a designated marksman working from a rooftop two hundred meters back putting three rounds into the minaret's upper window before the sniper's fire stopped. Nobody went up to confirm the kill as the platoon simply moved past it, weapons still angled up at the window as they went.

By late afternoon, Kekilli's regiment held Bakrman's center and had pushed security elements to the town's southern edge, the road toward Batifa opening up flat and empty in front of them under a sky that had gone the color of old iron.

The fourth detachment at Baurki, still under Görgün's company after the HMG position had been destroyed that morning, spent the rest of the day working through the village itself, smaller than Bakrman, no more than a crossroads with a fuel depot and a scattering of houses built up around it. Resistance had ended with the mud-brick structure. What remained was methodical, tedious work, clearing structures one at a time, checking culverts and outbuildings, the kind of task that produced no radio traffic worth reporting because nothing happened.

Görgün found the village headman near midday, an old man who spoke through a soldier with enough Kurdish to manage a rough translation, insisting the fighters who'd occupied the HMG position weren't from Baurki, had arrived only two days before, had taken the position by the road without asking anyone's permission.

"Ask him where they went," Görgün said. "The one who wasn't in the building."

The translation came back after a long exchange. "He says north. Toward Duhok. Says a lot of them went that way over the last week, not just soldiers, families too."

"Tell him thank you. And tell him if anyone comes back through here with weapons, that's on him to report."

The translation went out. The old man nodded slowly, without any particular conviction either way, and the platoon moved on to the next house.

Berk moved his command post forward to Namrik that evening, the village's central square now hosting a cluster of vehicles and a satellite antenna array beside the collapsed tent that had served as the forward CP at Bahadre. Abaci found him standing at the edge of the square, looking north toward the dark line of mountains where the sun had already dropped behind the ridge.

"Duhok's cut off," Abaci said. "North, east, and the mountain routes are all ours now. Only way in or out is south, straight into 3rd Division's line of advance."

"And Batifa?"

"3rd CAAD's Phase I wraps in the next forty-eight hours if Mala Arab holds the way it's supposed to. Once that's done, Phase II starts and Batifa's next on their list."

Berk nodded slowly, still looking north. "Then we sit here and make sure nobody from Duhok gets a chance to reinforce it."

"1st Regiment's already got the checkpoint up at Namrik. 2nd's doing the same east of Mrebah. 3rd's working Bakrman now."

"Good." Berk turned from the ridge line, walking back toward the command tent. "Get me casualty figures for tonight's report, and find out what the 15th Recon picked up on those withdrawing elements. I want to know where they went, because they didn't just vanish into the rocks."

Lt. Col. Emrah Kekilli's 15th Special Reconnaissance Battalion had spent the day pushing small teams north of the secured perimeter, watching the withdrawal routes the morning's engagements had left open. One team, operating from a hide position on a ridge overlooking a narrow valley north of Bakrman, reported movement shortly before dusk, a column of perhaps two hundred personnel moving north in loose file, at least two of them clearly wounded and being helped along by others.

"They're not stopping to fight," the team leader reported over a low-power burst transmission. "They're not stopping at all. Moving fast, minimal security, like they know exactly where they're going."

"Copy. Continue observation, do not engage, report any change in direction or composition."

Abaci relayed the report to Berk inside the command tent, the map now lit by a single hooded lamp against the growing dark outside.

"Two hundred personnel, wounded among them, moving north toward Bakman," Abaci said. "15th's also says that intel has at least two enemy companies in Duhok."

Berk nodded. "We've cut them off from Mosul." Berk studied the map a long moment. "But taking Duhok will be difficult without any armored support. It is a large city."

"If Duhok's cut off the way we think it is, anyone left in that city with a weapon has exactly one place left to go, and that's North, into the fight 3rd Division's about to have," Abaci added. "We could pressure them enough to force them north where they'd run into the 3rd Division.

Berk shook his head. "We need to cut off their egress North." He looked at Qadesh and the road to Duhok. "Have the 2nd Regiment move a battalion to Sarsing to hold it."

Berk took his helmet and began walking outside.

Abaci followed him toward the tent, already keying his radio to raise battalion staff. Behind them, in the square, soldiers moved crates of ammunition off a parked truck under the last gray light of the evening, and somewhere to the north, past the dark treeline, a dog began barking and did not stop.

CURRENT BATTLE MAP

 

[Jay]

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The 2nd Company broke first at the crossroads south of Berzirke. The 22nd Regiment had come up the Berzirke road in the dark and put itself squarely across the company's rear before dawn, and by the time 2nd Company understood what was happening, the 20th and 11th Armored were already coming in hard from the front. There was no room left to maneuver into and no direction left that didn't have Turks in it. The fighting went on for something like eight hours, close enough in places that men were trading rounds across the width of a courtyard.

The 2nd Company, unexpecting the outflanking maneuver, found itself overwhelmed and running low on ammo the remaining thirty or so fighters began surrendering to the Turks as they cleared out the remaining parts of the village. Sporadic gunfire kept many of the civilians still left in the town hidden and in fear as the Turkish convoy began to move out of the town and onto their main target of Qadesh.

Further north, the 31st Mountain Rifle Regiment found two PKK companies dug into the high ground above Baze. The Kurds had built their positions into the mountain itself, and the Turkish mountainers fought for every meter of the crest, twice pushed back down the slope by fire they couldn't see the source of, twice reorganizing in the scrub below and going back up again.

When the pass finally came open, both PKK companies had already broken contact and were moving north toward Qadesh, badly cut up but not destroyed, carrying their wounded with them into what was shaping up to be the PKK's final defensive line in the sector. The 31st did not leave unscathed and had suffered twelve wounded and one killed.

The 33rd Mountain had an easier time of it against 1st Company of the Bizinê Brigade, a screening force posted forward of the main position. The Kurds had built itself into a tunnel system cut through the rock, and the 33rd began clearing the mountain system in intensive cave to cave combat. However, the 33rd eventually overwhelmed the screening force of the 1st Company and destroyed the company in close quarter combat. Using armored shields and lots of explosives, the 33rd emerged from the tunnel victorious. The 10th Combat Engineer Battalion came up behind the mountainers once the shooting stopped and put the whole encampment to demolition charges and blew it to ensure that the mountain system couldn't be used again by the PKK.

At Bakrman, the 3rd Air Assault Regiment expected a safe deployment after landing opposed earlier that day. However when they ran into the 8th Company of the Bizinê Brigade PKK fighters had pre-positioned MANPADS teams in concealment around the town, and in the opening minutes of the assault they brought down two Turkish helicopters, the first time in the operation that the PKK had managed to kill a Turkish aircraft outright.

It rattled the regiment as they saw an attack helicopter go down before a blackhawk that had just unloaded troops was shot down itself. The 3rd Air Assault went after 8th Company afterward with a viciousness, running the company to ground and killing or capturing it almost to the man. There were no survivors from this attack as the 3rd executed any Kurdish fighter it had captured in one of the brutalist parts of the fighting.

To the west, the 2nd Air Assault Regiment took Sarsing without a fight, the town simply empty of defenders by the time the lead companies arrived. With Sarsing secured, both Duhok and Qadesh were now sealed off from each other, no route left between them that didn't run through Turkish lines. Not long after, the 31st Mountain's advance elements made contact with 3rd Armored's forward units pushing up from the south, and the two forces linked up to complete the encirclement and begin the reduction of Qadesh.

With the airborne securing all of their main objectives, the 5th Division was placed on standby. The units were now mostly tasked with inspecting the movement of people and goods through the Qasrok passage and Highway 2. Having cut off Duhok, the 5th also observed as long lines of Kurdish civilians fled southwards, with the 5th doing their best to help the civies get to Mosul as best as they could and without impediment.

Turkish planners now had to account for the PKK's manpad arsenal as concerns have grown that further helicopters might be lost. The decision was made for supply helicopters to be supported by attack helicopters. Supply helicopters were ordered to conduct 'touch and goes' as PKK fighters began using ATGMs to shoot hovering helicopters that were resupplying Turkish troops across the battle space.

CURRENT BATTLE MAP