Today is the twenty-second anniversary of the attack on the USS Cole. Veterans of my generation find September and October peculiarly poignant as we mark the anniversaries and remember those lost in the attacks on the Cole (2000), the Beirut barracks (1983), the 9/11 attacks on The World Trade Center (2001), and Benghazi (2012), and the Battle of Mogadishu (1993).
I find the attack on the USS Cole particularly disturbing because my knowledge and experience in Yemen during the months leading up to the Cole attack tell me the loss of life could and should have been prevented. I predicted the probability of a successful attack on US interests in Yemen was increasing to dangerous levels from 1998 through 1999; I remain bothered that perhaps I did not pursue all avenues to overcome the political roadblocks to getting the warning out.
My sense of frustration and guilt became more pronounced with the Benghazi attack. I saw the same decisions and actions, or lack thereof, by people in positions of authority. These officials had their heads buried in the sands of ambition and bureaucracy, blinding them to the realities that cost American lives.
I witnessed how reality, or ground truth, can change over time in Beirut in the ’80s and saw the troubling similarities as the security situation in Yemen worsened during my assignment there. After Benghazi, I wondered if we ever learn from our mistakes. You would think the lessons of Beirut and Yemen would have informed decision-makers involved with Benghazi. But then, some heads-in-the-sand officials in Yemen moved on and up to bigger and better things for the US Government. I guess it is hard to see with clarity in the rearview mirror of politics.
I feel a sense of duty to those who lost their lives on this day twenty-two years ago and am obligated to try again to make a point that can avoid needless loss of lives in the foreign adventures in our nation’s future. To that end, I am resubmitting an edited portion of an article I wrote a few years ago. The article discussed similarities between the debacles in Beirut, Yemen, and Benghazi. This edit will cover events in Yemen related to the attack on the USS Cole. In those days, being a whistle blower was uncommon and looked down upon as something used by malcontents to make up for their lack of ability. My current self would tell my younger self that if lives were at stake, to use that option. Back then I had no idea how to even try that route.
I think of the families of the fallen and the survivors of the Cole attack. I wish I had done things differently and that I could have made a difference. I pray that the next person in my shoes in some far-flung place has the knowledge and sagacity to make their voice heard. It’s not the battles won that trouble old soldiers; it’s the ones we lost.
Excerpted and edited from The road to the next: Benghazi, Jan 2019
I was a Special Forces (SF) soldier in Yemen in 1998/1999. I was there to assess the security situation and pave the way for what I believe were the first US Military deployments to Yemen. One was a Fifth Special Forces team from Fort Campbell to conduct training with a Yemeni unit along the Red Sea coast. Later, a demining contingent comprising a different team from the Fifth Special Forces Group and some US Navy EOD personnel out of Bahrain deployed to Aden.
I went to Yemen a few months ahead of the others to get the lay of the land and assess the security conditions for the others to follow. I initially worked out of the Embassy in Sana and traveled and drove to Aden for some site visits.
I awakened at my residence in a suburb of Sana early in August 1998 to hear the loudspeaker at the mosque down the street crackle and buzz as it always did before the recorded call to prayer. I swear the mosque kept the speakers aimed at my house, the volume turned up, and always played the recorded call to prayer with the most screeching voice to send me a message. However, that morning, instead of the usual call to prayer, an angry, agitated man spat hate and urged listeners to rid the Mideast of American infidels. My Arabic was only conversational, so I did not pick up all he was saying, only that America had conducted unprovoked attacks against Islamic brothers in Sudan and Afghanistan. I did not get protestors out in front of my residence but kept a low profile and remained watchful. The incident served as a data point for my assessment of security conditions for Americans in Yemen. However, the Ambassador and Embassy officials dismissed the public outcry as noisy but obligatory complaints to show Islamic solidarity.
As soon as local newspapers reported Americans were going to come to Yemen, a group called The Islamic Army of Aden (IAA) began publishing threats against any Americans setting foot in Yemen. The official US position championed by Ambassador Barbara Bodine was that the IAA “was a group of two or three people with a fax machine who posed no threat.” The security and intelligence offices in the Embassy echoed the Ambassador’s opinion and refused to change it, even after a car bomb exploded near the German Embassy. The party line was that European tourists went to the Marib region of Yemen on purpose and considered getting kidnapped by tribal clans a sport. They got treated well, then released after the government agreed to some new wells or a few vehicles for the tribe. It made for great stories. Can you imagine one of these tourists at a party, a drink in hand, reminiscing about being kidnapped in Yemen? My view was that while this may have been true to this point, things were changing, and the interest and influence of al-Qa’ida in Yemen was a new factor.
As the time for the demining contingent to arrive neared, we discussed the best ways to provide security. Security would rely primarily on whatever we (I would join the team) could muster ourselves. We had no other US forces to support us or come to our rescue in the event of an attack. Special Forces teams are accustomed to operating independently, so we made plans to secure ourselves with our small arms. To our amazement and later chagrin, Ambassador Bodine refused to let us have our rifles in Aden, saying they would stay in a locked box at the Embassy in Sana (8 to 10 hours away by vehicle).
We argued vehemently for the weapons, citing that we routinely carried them in many countries and would not use them unless under attack. Bodine persisted in her stance that we were neither country nor culture experts on Yemen and that we had no need for rifles. The issue became so contentious the SF portion of the mission was on the verge of abandoning the mission if required to conduct it without the trust to at least have our rifles on the same compound where we were living. We even offered to keep them locked in a metal box unless we were under attack, but the Ambassador persisted, not trusting that we had the judgment to decide when to use the weapons. Instead, we were given a few Yemeni drivers/guards from their intelligence service. They were there more to keep an eye on us than protect us. They had very little training, and the protection they provided was virtually non-effective. We joked that in the event of an attack, we’d take their AKs and defend ourselves, referring to our so-called guards as 150-pound gun racks.
A few weeks later, a group eventually dubbed The Aden Six was captured in Aden in a car. They had mines, rockets, AK-47s, and a sketch of the hotel where our demining contingent was based. That prompted us to move to a more secure compound located on the outskirts of Aden. We again lobbied the Ambassador to have our rifles on our compound, given the new development. Still, Ambassador Bodine refused. She flew to Aden, where addressing the entire contingent, she told us she preferred the risk that we get hurt over trusting us with rifles, even if there was only a slight possibility that even one civilian could get injured.
To say we were angry and felt untrusted is a colossal understatement, but we were soldiers there to do a job, so we continued to do the best we could and undertake measures to protect ourselves. We attributed what we viewed as a cavalier attitude regarding our safety to a potential visit to Yemen by First Lady Hillary Clinton. It was a very high priority to the Ambassador, but Clinton would never come to Yemen if the security situation were deemed unsafe. A young Clinton protege even flew out to advance a potential FLOTUS trip, and our SF team provided her security in Aden armed with our pistols only. As I persisted in lobbying for our rifles, other officials working inside the Embassy later offered me friendly advice not to get between the Ambassador and her plans for a Clinton visit.
Some weeks later, the IAA took hostages from the British Consulate in Aden in hopes of exchanging them for The Aden Six. That kidnapping ended in a standoff and shootout between government forces and the IAA. Several hostages were killed as well as some of the kidnappers. Yemeni forces botched the rescue operation; it also ended poorly for the IAA, but it nonetheless was a violent action ending with the death of hostages. Still, according to the Ambassador and the security organs within the Embassy, the IAA actions were deemed futile and amateurish. Security conditions in Yemen were still officially considered benign.
The demining mission was nearing its end in 1999, and that is also when Yemen and the US agreed for US Navy ships to dock in Aden. By that time, I’d been in Yemen for months. During that time, I reviewed intelligence reports and interacted with the local populace in Sana and Aden. Serving as background to that first-hand knowledge was my years of experience in counter-terrorism. Based on what I read, witnessed, and based on my experience, I became convinced that US lives were at risk in Yemen.
My contention to the Embassy was that the IAA did pose a potentially significant threat to US interests in Yemen. I argued that the IAA, though operationally inept, had shown that they had access to weapons and explosives, would take violent action, and wished to target US interests. Further, we knew that though the IAA was not an operational arm, they were in contact with Al-Qa’ida (AQ). I surmised should the IAA ever either accept operational direction and training from AQ or serve as a host to an AQ cell, that they would be capable of conducting or facilitating significant attacks against US interests in Yemen.
I agonized about the security situation and my inability to get my opinion voiced outside Yemen for months. I was, after all, sent as an experienced professional to provide the security oversight to protect our group; as I saw it, that included any American in Yemen. I finally decided to send my military opinion to my commanders at Fifth Group and Special Operations Command Central Command (SOCCENT) via a Special Forces Area Assessment Report. I hoped that since it was an internal report, not for dissemination, and since it was not an intelligence report, I might bypass the bureaucracy of the Embassy and at least get something in writing voicing my concerns. I did not want to look back on a future terror attack there thinking, “If only I’d…” I sent the report via military channels and later sent the Embassy a courtesy copy. I then quickly learned that no one in the USG could send any information out of a country without first allowing it to be edited by or include the comments of the Ambassador. Let’s just say I got more than an ear full but escaped getting kicked out of the country.
The demining mission ended, and I departed, convinced that the facts indicated that Yemen was becoming dangerous. I was dismayed, disappointed, and disheartened that nobody in the Embassy wanted to see that potential. Even worse, the Ambassador wanted to ensure no one expressed a differing opinion.
On 1 January 2000, I began another mission elsewhere in the Middle East. That same month terrorists unsuccessfully attempted to destroy the USS The Sullivans in the Port of Aden and, in October, conducted the successful attack on the USS Cole.
As the Cole Commission began hearing testimony, I was sent to the United States Special Operations Command (USSOCOM) in Tampa to give a written deposition for the Cole Commission. To my chagrin, USSOCCOM deleted the quote of the comments of Ambassador Bodine about preferring to risk us getting hurt vice allowing us to have rifles, as well as other statements by officials in the Embassy. When I questioned that call, they told me that USSOCOM did not want to get involved in a war with the State Department over Yemen. It might negatively impact US Special Operations Forces gaining permission from The Department of State to enter countries for training or operational missions.
I was very disappointed. They asked for the deposition because I correctly predicted that Yemen was becoming dangerous for Americans and correctly predicted that the enemy there was capable of conducting a significant attack against US interests. I thought the goal was to get out information on how to assess potential threats and to get to the real reason why the voice of the only person with experience in counter-terrorism at the Embassy at that time was not only ignored but silenced. I thought the Cole Commission was to serve as a civilian form of a hot wash. Hot washes are used in special operations to go over the details of a rehearsal or a mission immediately after its conclusion to bring out all the good and bad that happened. It is a frank discussion where feelings are secondary to the goal of making operations better. However, in the end, it appeared that political correctness between the military and DoS regarding events leading to the Cole attack prevailed over identifying the roots of the problem.
