Army Capt. Tristan Vasquez, 25, of Cody, Wyo., a platoon leader for the 127th Military Police Company at Forward Operating Base Falcon, Iraq, earned a Bronze Star for her actions last August during an ambush in northwest Baghdad. (Vince Little / S&S)
FORWARD OPERATING BASE FALCON, Iraq — Army Capt. Tristan Vasquez of the 127th Military Police Company isn’t too fazed by the debate over what roles women should play in combat.
The 25-year-old officer from Cody, Wyo., already has a Bronze Star Medal on her résumé for valor under fire during an ambush in northwest Baghdad last August. Just days later, she helped repel an insurgent attack on the Al-Shoula Iraqi Police Station, which brought an additional commendation.
“We joke around all the time and say there are no women in combat,” she said. “That’s all right, though. We know what we do.”
Vasquez, a platoon leader for the Hanau, Germany-based unit that functions in Iraq under the 2nd Brigade Combat Team of the 10th Mountain Division, is among several women who fill vital roles within the company as it patrols Baghdad. It might not be classified as combat, but for the last 11 months, women certainly worked on the front lines.
“They say it’s an asymmetrical battlefield,” said Capt. Kevin Hanrahan, of Whitman, Mass., the 127th Military Police Company commander. “Women are not supposed to be in combat. The fact of the matter is they are in combat.”
Sitting in the rear Humvee of a three-vehicle convoy that day in August, Vasquez said they were headed to the Al-Gazzilia Iraqi Police Station — one of 19 the company monitors — when her driver noticed something odd.
“My driver, she goes, ‘There’s no cars on the road,’” Vasquez said. “That’s when we had an RPG land in the lead vehicle and another go underneath the middle vehicle. One struck my window right where my head is. Another went over the back hatch.
“I’m very thankful for our armored vehicle. It saved my life, saved my driver’s life and probably saved my gunner from either death or dismemberment.”
Under constant gunfire in the 140-degree heat, Vasquez and others fought for nearly 90 minutes. They treated wounded soldiers and worked to save a gunner trapped under a flipped Humvee. They ultimately freed him, but he later died from his injuries.
Six members of Vasquez’s platoon earned commendations with valor.
“It was so hot, you literally had to stop fighting to drink water,” she said. “It’s amazing what soldiers can do. They’re incredible individuals. We put them under so many different kinds of stresses. They do an amazing job.”
First Lt. Sara Skinner, 27, of Vassar, Mich., another platoon leader, who’s on her second tour of Iraq, received the Purple Heart after sustaining shrapnel wounds to her neck and right arm from a mortar attack in early November.
“It went right through my combat patch,” Skinner said. “It was not really anything serious. I’ve seen so many people seriously injured that I feel a little weird about getting the Purple Heart.”
“When soldiers go through something like that, it’s usually best to put them right back to work,” she said. “You don’t want them to dwell on things. If they take time off, they’ll become more afraid to go back out; gives them too much time to think.”
First Lt. Amy Clements, 24, of Littleton, Colo., the company’s executive officer, faced similar perils as a platoon leader during the first stage of the unit’s deployment. Each time they ventured outside the wire, threats loomed from possible sniper attacks, roadside bombs, ambushes, vehicle bombs and suicide bombers.
“I faced the same thing they (male soldiers) did for five to six days a week,” she said. “You witness a lot of scary stuff you never want to see again. You hope nobody else has to face it, either.
“As a platoon leader, part of the burden you carry is trying to protect your soldiers — especially the younger ones — from seeing things like dead bodies. They are dramatic images. Stuff like that sticks with you, even the more senior soldiers. Eventually, it starts to get to everybody.”
