Carnivore: A Memoir by One of the Deadliest American Soldiers of All Time

Carnivore: A Memoir by One of the Deadliest American Soldiers of All Time

Dillard Johnson, James Tarr

Language: English

Pages: 320

ISBN: 0062288415

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Amid ferocious fighting that many times nearly took his life, Sergeant Dillard "C. J." Johnson and his crew are recognized by Pentagon reports to have accounted for astonishing enemy KIA totals while battling inside and out of the "Carnivore," the Bradley Fighting Vehicle Johnson commanded during Operation Iraqi Freedom. After miraculously beating stage-three cancer (caused by radiation exposure from firing armor-piercing depleted-uranium rounds during combat), he returned to his platoon in Baghdad for a second tour, often serving as a sniper protecting his fellow troops. Today, Johnson and his men's story is the stuff of legend—earning them a cover story in Soldier of Fortune and a display in the Fort Stewart Museum. But only now is Johnson telling his full story: reviewed and approved for publication by the Department of Defense, Carnivore is the gripping and unflinchingly honest autobiography of a remarkable American warrior.

"The estimated enemy KIAs for Staff Sergeant Johnson’s BIFV [Bradley Infantry Fighting Vehicle] during this fight [22 March, 2003] was 488. The informal estimate from the troop was that Johnson and his crew killed at least 1,000 Iraqis on 23 March. Later in the move north, Johnson engaged and destroyed 20 trucks and tallied 314 KIAs in the vicinity of An Najaf. At Objective FLOYD, Johnson’s platoon fought yet another bitter fight against what they claim was a thousand paramilitary troops. … Events were corroborated by separate interviews with the remainder of C/3-7 CAV, to include the troop commander." —On Point: The United States Army in Operation Iraqi Freedom, the official study of the 2003 invasion commissioned by the U.S. Army Chief of Staff

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toward Sergeant Williams’s position. Oh, shit. McCoy got on the radio. “White 4, I am going to need you to reposition.” He told Broadhead to move to the rear of the column to help support Third and Fourth Platoons. Not 10 minutes after Broadhead left, Captain McCoy called me. “Um, Red 2, JSTARS reports that they have approximately one thousand troop trucks moving on your position.” “Sir, can you repeat that, did you say one thousand troops?” “Negative, Red 2, that is one thousand troop

sporadic through the night, but no one was immune—the unit was fully engaged, including command. Captain McCoy was working on getting air support for us when Iraqi soldiers came running out of the darkness at his tank, positioned in the center of the column. McCoy grabbed the AK-47 I had given him earlier, aimed it at the Iraqis charging his side of the tank, and pulled the trigger. He stitched all three of them, emptied an entire 30-round magazine, fighting the rifle to keep it from climbing off

in my line of sight.” Well, I guess it really didn’t matter. It wasn’t one of ours. I said to Soprano, “AP, three rounds, fire!” My eyes stayed glued to the sight. The round in the chamber was HE, and it hit short because Soprano was using the AP (armor-piercing) reticle, but the next two rounds were armor-piercing depleted uranium and hit the front of the vehicle. I could see impact, but there was no other reaction from the vehicle. “You’re on target. Smoke it.” He let out another burst of

driver’s hatch. “Asshole.” “Fuck you, you’re a piece of shit,” Sperry shot back. Well, Sully then decided to spit on him. I froze. When Sully spit on him, Sperry went red, screaming and yelling, and climbed out of his hatch, ready to commit murder. I had to jump off the top of the vehicle and put my hand on Sperry’s chest, push him back. “Knock this bullshit off!” I told him, and shot a murderous look at Sully, too. “The two of you have to stop fucking fighting, you’ve got to depend on one

received the Silver Star for his actions in and around An Najaf and got promoted out of the field. Lieutenant David Dejesus was well on his way to becoming a fine officer but was tragically killed in a non-service-related accident after his return to the States. There were too many troopers in Crazy Horse to mention everybody, but one soldier I did want to credit was Jerrod Fields. Early in 2005, when I was in-country, he got the lower part of his left leg blown off when an IED hit his Bradley.

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