In today’s era of drone strikes, cyber operations, and long-range fires, it’s easy to forget that the last great conventional assault undertaken by U.S. forces happened more than two decades ago during the opening weeks of Operation Iraqi Freedom. While headlines from that campaign often center on Baghdad or Fallujah, the battle for Objective Peach—an armored thrust over the Euphrates River just south of the capital—remains one of the most strategically consequential and tactically brilliant operations few Americans, or even military historians, remember.
I was there—an infantry platoon leader in Charlie Company, 2-7 Infantry, attached to Task Force 3-69 Armor, 3rd Infantry Division.
My platoon—two Abrams tanks, two Bradley Fighting Vehicles, and a dismount squad—was the first mechanized unit to seize the al-Kaed highway bridge, a key crossing that opened the southern approach to Baghdad. What unfolded in the hours that preceded that assault was a textbook demonstration of combined arms warfare: smoke obscuration, suppressive artillery, engineers clearing obstacles under fire, armored units holding the line, and close air support degrading enemy resistance.
More than an operational success, the battle for Objective Peach spanned domains and capabilities in a way that foreshadowed the complexities of future conflict.
The Seizure of the Bridge
Objective Peach was a critical crossing near the town of Musayyib. Intelligence indicated the bridge was rigged for demolition and guarded by Iraqi Republican Guard units determined to slow the U.S. advance. Our mission: secure it intact.
In the predawn hours of April 2, 2003, Task Force 3-69 Armor made a high-speed push through the Karbala Gap, arriving at the bridge around midday. The approach was tense—any moment, we thought the bridge might be blown. But speed and power were on our side, and LTC Rock Marcone, the Task Force commander, had a full array of combined arms assets at his disposal.
One span was intact but booby-trapped; the other had been partially destroyed. Marcone maneuvered his companies with precision, called for suppressive artillery fire, and ordered a smoke screen to obscure the engineers as they moved in via boat to clear demolitions.
My platoon crossed first under fire, returning suppressive fire on Iraqi positions. We cleared enemy positions and secured a defensive perimeter while other units advanced deeper before the Iraqis could regroup. The battle continued through the night as Iraqi forces counterattacked in waves. By morning, over 200 enemy fighters were dead. Not a single American was lost.
A Masterclass in Combined Arms
What made the Peach mission extraordinary was not just its speed or power—it was the seamless integration of arms. Infantry, armor, engineers, and airpower functioned as one. Fire missions were delivered with precision. Combat engineers performed under immense pressure. We weren’t just operating in parallel—we were enacting a joint, multi-domain fight before that was doctrinal language.
Objective Peach opened the road to Baghdad and enabled the Thunder Runs that followed. Yet it remains overshadowed by later urban battles and the long counterinsurgency wars that dominated American memory. That’s a mistake. Peach teaches lessons we must remember.
Lessons for the Future Fight
Today’s military planners rightly focus on preparing for contested environments—where air, cyber, space, land, and sea domains are all in play. But we cannot neglect the fundamentals of conventional war: maneuver, mobility, engineering, and the ability to hold terrain under pressure. Task Force 3-69’s execution at Peach maintained operational momentum and prevented the Iraqi military from regaining initiative. That tempo, more than firepower alone, was decisive.
In future conflicts—in the Indo-Pacific, Eastern Europe, or elsewhere—mobility corridors will be contested. Infrastructure will be targeted. Our ability to project power will hinge on whether we can maintain freedom of movement and coordination under fire.
And while technology will evolve, the human element remains irreplaceable. No drone or algorithm can substitute for what our engineers did that morning—clearing explosives under fire so the assault could proceed. No AI will replicate the judgment of a commander calling in close air support in seconds. As we integrate new capabilities, we must not lose the warrior ethos that made Peach possible: mission first, never quit, never leave a comrade behind.
A Bridge Between Wars
Objective Peach deserves study—not just as a tactical victory, but as a case study in synergy across forces creating strategic momentum.
Downriver, my memoir, chronicles this battle not just at the operational level, but at the human level—what it took to train, lead, and endure. Peach wasn’t won in a moment. It was won through the months of training and planning that prepared us to execute under pressure, trust each other, and complete the mission.
Peach wasn’t just a crossing to Baghdad—it represents the kind of excellence, discipline, and cohesion we must carry forward.
In an age of global uncertainty, we would do well to remember what was accomplished on that April afternoon. Because wars are not won by weapons systems alone. They are won by warriors who are trained, prepared, and committed to each other—and to something greater than themselves.
Ryan McDermott is an Iraq War veteran, recipient of the Bronze Star medal, and author of the award-winning and critically acclaimed book, “Downriver: Memoir of a Warrior Poet.” His views do not reflect those of his employer or any affiliated organization.