Table Of ContentTHUNDER
RUN
David Zucchino is a foreign correspondent
for the Los Angeles Times.
His work has been short-listed for the Pulitzer Prize
on three occasions.
First published in the United States of America in 2004 by Grove/Atlantic, Inc.,
841 Broadway, New York, NY 10003–4793, USA.
First published in paperback in Great Britain in 2004
by Atlantic Books an imprint of Grove Atlantic Ltd.
This E-book edition published by Atlantic Books in 2015.
Copyright © David Zucchino 2004.
The moral right of David Zucchino to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright,
Designs and Patents Act of 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic, retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or
otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
E-Book ISBN: 978 1 78239 686 4
Paperback ISBN: 978 1 84354 283 4
Interior maps by Matthew Ericson.
Printed in Great Britain
Atlantic Books
An imprint of Atlantic Books Ltd
Ormond House
26–27 Boswell Street
London WC1N 3JZ
www.atlantic-books.co.uk
For my father,
First Sergeant Ernest Joseph Zucchino
(World War II, Korea, Vietnam),
who served with honor
C O N T E N T S
FOREWORD BY MARK BOWDEN
ONE – CHARLIE ONE TWO
TWO – THE RIGHT THING
THREE – DOUBLE TAP
FOUR – PUPPY LOVE
FIVE – THE PLAN
SIX – A COVERT BREACH
SEVEN – THE PALACE GATES
EIGHT – SUICIDE AT THE GATES OF BAGHDAD
NINE – THE PARTY IS ABOVE ALL
TEN – GOD WILL BURN THEIR BODIES IN HELL
ELEVEN – GOING AMBER
TWELVE – CURLY
THIRTEEN – BIG TIME
FOURTEEN – CATFISH
FIFTEEN – MOE, LARRY
SIXTEEN – PLAYING THE GAME
SEVENTEEN – COUNTERATTACK
EIGHTEEN – THE BRIDGE
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
APPENDIX
NOTES ON SOURCES
F O R E W O R D
B y far the most important and decisive part of the stunning American sweep of Iraq in 2003
was the surprise armored thrust into the heart of Baghdad. While pundits at home and around
the world (myself included) were predicting a potentially bloody, protracted siege of Saddam
Hussein’s capital, and while the notorious “Baghdad Bob” was before microphones in the Al
Rashid Hotel denying that American forces were anywhere near the city, the Spartan Brigade, the
Second Brigade of the Third Infantry Division (Mechanized), was blasting its way up the city’s
central avenues. It was a perfect illustration of how history is usually made, not by planners and
critics, but by brave men with their boots on the ground—or, in this case, Abrams tank treads. The
Spartan Brigade’s thunder run became the turning point of the war both militarily and
psychologically.
I have to say that I was not surprised to learn that my friend and long-time colleague David
Zucchino was with those men. Zook is one of the best reporters of our generation, and he’s been
putting himself at risk to get good stories for many years. He’s smart, fearless, tenacious, and (thank
God) lucky. He survived one serious brush with death covering the war, and dove right back into the
action. This book will outshine and outlast the flood of embedded memoirs of that war, because of
both where he was and who he is.
We both started as reporters at The Philadelphia Inquirer almost a quarter century ago. Zook and
I, the late Mark Fineman, Buzz Bissinger, Richard Ben Cramer, Mike Capuzzo, Bob Rosenthal,
Lucinda Fleeson, and Joyce Gemperlein were among a group of young reporters at that paper who
competed with one another each week to land the “Sunday Strip,” the story stripped over the
masthead on the Sunday paper. It was the paper’s premier showcase for dramatic writing. The Sunday
editor then was the late Ron Patel, a dashing man with a lusty appreciation for a lurid tale (for which
reason, and others, he was nicknamed the Dark Prince). Philadelphia furnished plenty of opportunities
for these stories—cannibal mass murderers, serial rapists, mobsters, animals and damsels in peril,
madmen, shipwrecks, mystery, and gore. We called the stories Dirtballs. They were and are the bread
and butter of newspaper writing. While other reporters were trying to master the arcana of state
budgets or probing for malfeasance in City Hall, we were out looking for the sleazy stuff that would
appease the appetite of the Dark Prince. You had to be fast to win the weekly contest, and you had to
be good. You had to spot the small item with dirtball potential before anybody else, find the gory
details, write it, and have it in Patel’s hands whole by Thursday afternoon—he was a stickler for
freshness. We all had our moments of glory in this sweepstakes, but I think Zook was the master.
He went on to become the paper’s best foreign correspondent, winning a Pulitzer Prize for an
amazing series of stories he wrote from South Africa before the overthrow of apartheid. I once had
the chance to work with David in the Middle East. We spent a few days together in Jerusalem trying
to cover the first Intifada, driving off together into the West Bank and Gaza. He was a veteran by then
and I was a rookie. I vividly remember him behind the wheel of our rental at the crack of dawn,
heading off from the walls of the Old City into Palestinian territory looking for trouble, remarking
gleefully, “Look out, he’s got a car!” We always found trouble. Zook had a nose for it. He was getting
ready to take off for some other hot spot, and he kindly stuck around for a few extra days to help me
