Part 2: "Urban Chaos: The Fight for Mosul Begins"

Article 2 of 3 in our Battle of Mosul (2004) Series

Total Collapse — Mosul Slips Away

Fallujah Burns, Mosul Ignites

As U.S. Marines breached the fortified city of Fallujah on November 8, 2004, all eyes—both military and media—were fixed on the brutal urban siege unfolding in Anbar Province. But while the full weight of American firepower bore down in the west, insurgents in Mosul, several hundred miles to the north, saw their opportunity to strike. And they did—with devastating precision.

The Police Disappear Overnight

On the morning of November 10, Mosul woke to a different kind of invasion. Not foreign troops, but an insurgency emboldened by distraction and delay. In what appeared to be a premeditated campaign, masked fighters stormed police stations across the city. More than a dozen were captured, looted, or burned. Officers who remained were disarmed—or executed. Others simply vanished, melting into crowds or deserting their posts without resistance.

Army Pfc. William Manley (right), Pvt. Robert Ayres, and Spc. Mikhael Medina provide security during a foot patrol in Mosul, Dec. 10, 2004. They're with Alpha Co., 1st Battalion, 24th Infantry, 1st Brigade, 25th Infantry Division (Stryker)

Checkpoints, Roadblocks, and Black Flags

Heavily armed insurgents—many clad in black, some still wearing pieces of Iraqi police or army uniforms—set up checkpoints in broad daylight. Civilians were ordered out of cars. Roads were dug up, bridges rigged with explosives. Key intersections fell one after another, with the city’s sprawling road network now under insurgent control. Armories once filled with AK-47s, rocket-propelled grenades, and mortars were emptied. These weapons, once held by state forces, were now fueling the very rebellion meant to be suppressed.

A City Falls Without a Fight

By midday, the city’s eastern and central districts resembled occupied territory. Black flags associated with Islamist factions fluttered from police outposts and administrative buildings. Government infrastructure—electricity substations, phone exchanges, water distribution centers—either shut down or fell under hostile control. In some neighborhoods, insurgents moved with surgical coordination, using radios, couriers, and pre-positioned supplies to avoid coalition surveillance and confuse response teams.

A smiling face sticker peers from a U.S. Army sniper’s scope during an insurgent hunt in Mosul, Iraq, Nov. 22, 2004

Warnings Ignored, Momentum Gained

The speed of collapse shocked even seasoned observers. Coalition intelligence had warned of a possible Mosul uprising if Fallujah were attacked, but the scale and swiftness exceeded every estimate. The insurgency had long embedded itself in Mosul's urban terrain, lying dormant until the political and military climate shifted. That shift came when American forces diverted key units southward to Fallujah—leaving Mosul lightly defended, and ripe for the taking.

Not a Rebellion—A Hostile Takeover

This wasn’t just a rebellion. It was a hostile takeover. And within 48 hours, Iraq’s third-largest city—once seen as a model of post-invasion stability—teetered on the edge of insurgent control.

Call to Arms — U.S. and Iraqi Units Respond

Stryker Brigade Reactivates for Urban Combat

As Mosul spiraled into chaos, the soldiers of the 1st Battalion, 24th Infantry Regiment—nicknamed “Deuce Four”—and the 3rd Battalion, 21st Infantry Regiment quickly realized they were no longer advisors or trainers. These units, part of the 1st Brigade, 25th Infantry Division’s Stryker Brigade Combat Team, had originally been tasked with stabilization operations and security partnerships with Iraqi police. Within hours, their mission transformed into something far more urgent: reassert control over a collapsing city.

The Strykers, eight-wheeled armored vehicles designed for speed and mobility in urban environments, became lifelines. Units that had been mentoring police commanders days before were now running combat patrols through neighborhoods controlled by armed insurgents. The shift was rapid, and the stakes were existential. U.S. forces weren’t trying to prevent a collapse—they were responding to one already underway.

A smiley face sticker beams from the scope of a U.S. Army sniper’s rifle during a mission to track insurgents in Mosul, Iraq, on Nov. 22, 2004 (AP)

Rapid Mobilization and Ad Hoc Planning

There was no time for formal planning cycles or extensive preparation. Command posts in Mosul lit up with urgent coordination. Reinforcements were requested from the 1st Cavalry Division, whose elements were stationed elsewhere in northern Iraq. U.S. commanders scrambled to build a picture of the insurgent network’s size and intent while simultaneously deploying troops to retake lost ground and protect vital infrastructure.

Combat outposts that had once been lightly manned were fortified. Emergency checkpoints were thrown up around major intersections and bridges. Units like Deuce Four had to rapidly adjust to an enemy that was no longer shadowy or hidden—but now organized, visible, and deadly.

The Iraqi Army Joins the Fight—Barely

Iraqi Army formations were rushed in to support the U.S. response, but their performance was inconsistent. Many of these troops were newly formed, minimally trained, and poorly equipped. Some arrived without helmets or body armor. Others showed up in commandeered civilian vehicles or outdated Soviet-era trucks, with communication equipment that barely worked.

To their credit, a number of Iraqi soldiers stood and fought alongside American counterparts. But others wavered—or simply disappeared under fire. For every Iraqi platoon that dug in to hold a position, there was another that withdrew under pressure, exposing U.S. flanks or forcing hasty tactical reshuffles.

A U.S. Army soldier from 1st Battalion, 24th Infantry Regiment escorts Iraqi men suspected of insurgent ties after a joint raid with the Iraqi National Guard near a mosque in central Mosul, Nov. 27, 2004 (AP)

Strykers Push In, Block by Block

The unique advantage of the Stryker Brigade became apparent in the chaos. Fast, heavily armed, and equipped with advanced optics, Strykers allowed U.S. forces to move quickly through contested districts, deploy dismounted squads with precision, and respond flexibly to insurgent ambushes.

Patrols often moved in hunter-killer pairs—one Stryker pushing forward while another covered with overwatch. Snipers were deployed to high ground. UAVs and aerial reconnaissance helped identify choke points and ambush positions. But urban combat remained brutal and personal—fought in hallways, behind stairwells, through walls.

U.S. Army SPC Chantha Bun (with M24 sniper rifle and AN/PVS-10 scope) and Sgt. Anthony Davis (with Accuracy Engineering sniper rifle) scan for threats at 4 West, an Iraqi police station in Mosul

From Partnership to Frontline Combat

The transformation of the U.S. mission in Mosul happened in real-time. Soldiers who had spent months mentoring Iraqi officers or running civil-affairs projects now led house-clearing operations, executed nighttime raids, and responded to mass-casualty IED strikes. There was no illusion of stabilization anymore. This was war. And it was just beginning.

The Streets Erupt — Clashes, Snipers, and Ambushes

Urban Combat Without a Front Line

By November 11, 2004, Mosul had become a battlefield with no front. The insurgent offensive had turned every district into contested ground, and there was no clear rear area—only zones of temporary control. Stryker convoys attempting to move between sectors were greeted by a barrage of small arms fire, RPGs, and IEDs. Every overpass was a potential kill zone; every alley concealed a rifle barrel.

U.S. forces had trained for complex urban warfare, but the sheer unpredictability of the fight in Mosul tested even the most experienced combat leaders. Patrols couldn’t rely on routine. Streets that were quiet in the morning could erupt by noon. Intelligence was inconsistent at best—some tips were accurate, others were traps. The insurgents were local, mobile, and often dressed as civilians until the moment they fired.

Spc. Aaron Thomas of Phoenix, Ariz., scans from a balcony in Mosul on November 14. He served with 3rd Battalion, 21st Infantry Regiment, 1st Brigade, 25th Infantry Division

Snipers on the Rooftops, IEDs in the Gutters

Sniper fire became a persistent and lethal threat. Gunmen operated from rooftops, minarets, or apartment balconies, vanishing before counterfire could locate them. Several U.S. soldiers were hit while crossing streets or stepping from vehicles. To counter this, units began using smoke, thermal optics, and bounding overwatch even during routine patrols. But the psychological toll was mounting—every corner could mean death.

Meanwhile, insurgents littered key routes with improvised explosive devices. Some were buried beneath trash or disguised inside roadside debris. Others were daisy-chained in culverts, detonated remotely as convoys passed. These IEDs weren’t just aimed at halting movement—they were designed to draw U.S. forces into kill zones, where ambush teams waited with machine guns and RPGs.

Clearing House by House

As neighborhoods turned into insurgent strongholds, U.S. forces were forced to take them back block by block. Infantry squads dismounted from their Strykers and moved cautiously through narrow alleys and multi-story buildings. Rooms were cleared one at a time, often in near silence, until the firefight erupted.

Battle damage piled up quickly—bullet-pocked walls, blown-out windows, burning vehicles. Entire families had fled, leaving homes eerily abandoned and booby-trapped. In one incident, soldiers entered a residence rigged with a tripwire tied to a mortar shell. In another, insurgents hid behind a false wall, waiting for the patrol to pass.

U.S. Army soldiers secure a girls' school courtyard in Mosul as explosives specialists prepare to detonate a rocket found there, Nov. 24, 2004

No Clear Enemy, No Safe Ground

What made the fight in Mosul uniquely harrowing was the enemy’s invisibility. Insurgents fought in small, agile teams—firing a few bursts before disappearing into side streets or sewer tunnels. Some posed as shopkeepers or pedestrians during the day and picked up weapons at night. Others used mosques, schools, or hospitals as base camps, knowing U.S. forces had to tread carefully in such spaces.

This blurred battlefield wore on the troops. “Every shadow felt like it was watching you,” one soldier later recalled. There were no uniforms. No flags. Only silhouettes and muzzle flashes—and the constant awareness that the enemy could strike from any direction.

Courage Under Fire

Despite the chaos, cohesion held. Fire teams executed textbook clearing operations under duress. Medics treated wounded comrades under fire. Platoon leaders made real-time decisions that saved lives and reshaped battle zones. It was gritty, exhausting work—but it was working. Slowly, U.S. units began retaking ground, pushing insurgents back, and restoring a semblance of order—one intersection at a time.

But the cost was high, and the mission was far from over.

On November 11, Soldiers from 1st Battalion, 24th Infantry, 1st Brigade, 25th Infantry Division (Stryker) fight insurgents in northern Mosul

High-Value Targets — Securing the Airport, Government Buildings, and Bridges

Fighting for Strategic Ground

With insurgents embedded across Mosul’s urban sprawl, U.S. commanders knew the tide wouldn’t turn through random patrols or reactive engagements. The city’s critical infrastructure—its bridges, airport, and government buildings—offered a strategic fulcrum. Whoever controlled these assets controlled movement, supply lines, and perception. Reclaiming them wasn’t just about logistics. It was about legitimacy.

Battle for Mosul International Airport

Mosul International Airport, seized early by insurgents and a symbol of coalition retreat, was the largest prize. U.S. forces launched a combined assault with Stryker units, air recon, and precision strikes. Defenders fought fiercely with snipers and fortified positions, but American infantry cleared the airport after intense fighting. Retaking the airfield restored vital medevac, resupply, and helicopter operations in the contested city.

An AH-64A Apache from 1st Battalion, 151st Aviation Regiment flies over Mosul’s street

Government Buildings—Symbols and Strongholds

City hall, police headquarters, and the provincial government center had been ransacked by insurgents—files burned, furniture overturned, walls spray-painted with slogans.

Reclaiming them denied insurgents strongholds and showed governance returning. Infantry cleared buildings under fire, often finding signs of recent occupation. Once secured, these sites became fortified bases, anchoring stability in unsettled neighborhoods.

Bridges Over the Tigris — Lifelines and Kill Zones

Mosul’s Tigris River divides the city, with key bridges serving as vital east-west links. Insurgents mined or blocked most bridges, cutting supply lines and slowing coalition forces.

Engineers and infantry worked together to clear IEDs, remove barricades, and secure crossings under fire. Armored bulldozers and UAVs helped sweep approaches. Once secured, defenses were set to prevent insurgent return. Reopening the bridges restored U.S. mobility, reconnected isolated areas, and disrupted insurgent logistics across the river.

Ruined buildings amid street fighting in Mosul

Tactical Wins with Strategic Weight

Though each target reclaimed was localized, their cumulative effect shifted the momentum. Reestablishing control over high-value infrastructure allowed coalition forces to coordinate more effectively, project force deeper into hostile zones, and rebuild shattered communication lines. Just as importantly, it gave civilian populations a glimmer of returning order.

With these lifelines back in U.S. hands, the insurgents were pushed into retreat—not eliminated, but on the defensive. The city’s center of gravity had begun to move.

The Kurds Step In — Peshmerga on the Streets

When the State Faltered, the Kurds Advanced

As the Mosul uprising intensified and Iraqi security forces crumbled, a familiar force began to emerge from the east: the Kurdish Peshmerga. With roots in guerrilla warfare and decades of experience fighting Saddam Hussein’s regime, the Peshmerga were well-trained, battle-tested, and deeply motivated. Their leaders didn’t wait for lengthy political approvals—many moved swiftly, deploying fighters into the chaos as Iraqi government units vanished from the streets.

Some deployments were coordinated with U.S. units, especially where communication lines held. Others arrived unannounced, riding into contested neighborhoods in pickup trucks flying the red, white, green, and sunburst flag of Kurdistan.

A Kurdish fighter wearing a yellow headband—symbol of the Kurdistan Democratic Party—stands about 18 miles north of Mosul, northern Iraq (Kamran Jebreili/AP)

Effective, Decisive, and Divisive

Peshmerga fighters brought valuable firepower, discipline, and urban combat experience, quickly helping reclaim ground by clearing buildings and securing streets.

But their presence sparked tension. In Kurdish areas, they were welcomed; in Sunni Arab neighborhoods, they were seen as intruders. Longstanding disputes over land, power, and demographics resurfaced, reigniting old grievances.

No Uniform Policy, No Clear Chain of Command

The decentralized nature of the Peshmerga only added to the confusion. Some fighters operated under the official orders of the Kurdistan Regional Government (KRG) and coordinated with U.S. forces. Others acted independently, aligned with specific political factions or tribal loyalties. This led to instances of conflicting objectives, overlapping patrols, and frayed communication.

In one instance, a Peshmerga checkpoint clashed with an Iraqi Army unit that failed to identify itself properly. In another, Kurdish fighters refused to leave a strategic intersection even after U.S. commanders requested it. The lines between ally, partner, and wildcard blurred quickly.

Filling the Vacuum with Flags and Firepower

Despite the controversy, the Kurds proved willing to do what others would not. They occupied abandoned police stations, restored traffic control, and provided security for resupply convoys. In sectors where the Iraqi government had no functional presence, the Kurdish flag flew from rooftops and sandbagged checkpoints. It was more than a show of force—it was a declaration of relevance.

For some U.S. units, working with the Peshmerga was a practical necessity. In the absence of trustworthy Iraqi partners, Kurdish fighters provided intelligence, reinforced defensive positions, and offered additional manpower. Yet every joint patrol risked inflaming local resentment, especially among Sunni residents already suspicious of coalition intentions.

U.S. Army soldiers search for insurgents suspected of planting a roadside bomb in Mosul

Irregular Allies and Shadow Fighters

A War Without a Uniform

Beyond the official U.S. and Iraqi forces and Kurdish Peshmerga, the battle for Mosul brought forth a kaleidoscope of irregular participants—some welcome, others dangerously ambiguous. From private security firms to tribal gunmen to neighborhood vigilantes, the urban battlefield was not defined by military formations but by relationships, rumors, and rapidly shifting lines of loyalty.

American commanders found themselves operating in a city of masked allegiances, where everyone had a weapon, a motive, and a past.

Private Contractors in the Crossfire

Even before the November uprising, Mosul hosted dozens of private security teams guarding infrastructure, government personnel, and convoys. As the city erupted, these contractors were thrust into full-scale combat. Often operating with minimal support, they held defensive positions, evacuated VIPs, or reinforced U.S. outposts under siege.

Some teams were highly trained and integrated with military units. Others operated with looser oversight, raising concerns about accountability and coordination. In the confusion of a multi-front battle, these contractors became both a tactical asset and a diplomatic liability.

SPC David Johnson and SGT Justin Javar, HHC, 1-17 Infantry, 172nd Stryker Brigade, fire flares from a 120mm mortar in Mosul to prevent insurgents from planting IEDs under cover of night

Local Militias: Allies or Armed Opportunists?

In various neighborhoods, especially those with tribal or sectarian cohesion, local militias emerged. Some had aligned themselves with the nascent Iraqi government and offered to defend their sectors against insurgents. Others were simply out to protect their homes or settle scores from years of repression and violence.

To coalition forces, these militias represented a mixed blessing. On one hand, they knew the terrain, the language, and the insurgents. On the other, many operated outside the chain of command and held deep-seated grudges that complicated stabilization efforts. Coordination was often informal—an interpreter’s call, a handshake deal at a checkpoint, a name passed through tribal channels.

Ghosts from the Past—Ba’athists and Foreign Fighters

Mosul had long been a refuge for former regime loyalists, including Ba’ath Party officers and Special Republican Guard veterans. In the power vacuum following the 2003 invasion, many of these figures melted into the shadows—only to reappear in the ranks of the insurgency. Trained, disciplined, and motivated by revenge or political restoration, they became key tactical leaders in the street fighting.

Meanwhile, intelligence reports warned of foreign fighters filtering in from Syria and beyond—jihadists seeking martyrdom and chaos. Some carried false IDs. Others traveled openly, slipping into insurgent units and bringing with them money, tactics, and ideological fervor. Coalition units encountered enemy fighters speaking Chechen, Egyptian, and Saudi dialects.

On November 11, Soldiers from 1st Battalion, 24th Infantry, 1st Brigade, 25th Infantry Division (Stryker) fight insurgents in northern Mosul

The Fog of War—Defectors, Informants, and Deception

Further complicating the battle was the presence of defectors from the Iraqi police. Some had joined the insurgency outright; others played both sides—providing intelligence to U.S. forces by day and guiding ambushes by night. Every checkpoint manned by locals was suspect. Every tip from a “friendly” source had to be vetted twice.

U.S. commanders were left to fight not only in the physical terrain of Mosul, but also in a murky landscape of half-truths and disinformation. Human intelligence was vital, yet perilous. One unit reported receiving three contradictory reports about a single sniper nest—each from a different informant, all claiming to be trustworthy.

A Chessboard of Allegiances

Mosul in November 2004 was more than a battlefield—it was a chessboard of factions, old grudges, and temporary alliances. U.S. and Iraqi units had to navigate it with limited pieces and imperfect maps. The insurgency thrived in this ambiguity, blending among the population, exploiting gaps in command, and manipulating loyalties.

But even within the fog, opportunities emerged. Some informants led soldiers to hidden weapons caches. Others prevented bombings by tipping off patrols at the last minute. The challenge was knowing who to trust—and for how long.

Maj. Gen. Khursheed Salem Hasiki, commander of the 3rd Iraqi Regular Army Division, visits wounded soldiers at a Multinational Forces camp in Mosul, Nov. 19, urging them to keep fighting amid recent insurgent attacks

Holding the Line — Reestablishing Control in a City at War

Consolidating Gains Amidst Uncertainty

By November 13, 2004, U.S. forces, primarily the Stryker Brigade Combat Teams, had succeeded in halting the insurgent surge and reclaiming critical parts of Mosul. Streets once held hostage by armed militants were now under coalition control, and key infrastructure had been secured. But this victory was fragile.

The city remained a tinderbox. Sniper fire and small-scale attacks continued, reminding troops and commanders alike that control was provisional and tenuous. The insurgents had been pushed back, but not defeated.

Civilian Displacement and Humanitarian Strain

The battle’s chaos sent thousands of Mosul’s residents fleeing their homes. Families abandoned neighborhoods scarred by gunfire and shelling, seeking refuge either within the city’s outskirts or further north into Kurdish-controlled areas. Humanitarian agencies scrambled to provide shelter, food, and medical aid, but access remained difficult amid the fighting.

The exodus added another layer of complexity. U.S. and Iraqi forces had to balance aggressive military operations with efforts to protect and reassure civilians, all while managing the logistical challenge of displaced populations.

Spc. David Maples, Archer Company, 1-5 Infantry, 1st Brigade, 25th Infantry Division (Stryker), gives first aid to a young local during a cordon-and-knock near Mosul, Iraq, Nov. 28, 2004

Iraqi Forces Attempt to Reassert Authority

In the wake of insurgent collapse, Iraqi Army and police units began reoccupying previously abandoned police stations and checkpoints. This was a critical step toward restoring governmental legitimacy. However, many of these forces were inexperienced, poorly equipped, and wary of insurgent reprisals.

U.S. units provided mentorship and support, but it was clear that Iraqi security forces needed time and training before they could independently maintain law and order. The risk of desertions and insider threats persisted.

A City Still on Edge

Despite regained ground, Mosul’s atmosphere remained tense and unpredictable. Insurgent networks, though disrupted, retained the ability to launch ambushes, plant IEDs, and conduct assassinations. Intelligence reports suggested sleeper cells were lying low, waiting for opportunities to strike.

For American and Iraqi commanders, the battle had shifted from rapid offense to a grinding, patient defense. Holding the line meant constant vigilance, rebuilding trust with local communities, and preventing the insurgency from regaining its foothold.

Pfc. Jose Ruiz, of New York City, scans Mosul from a rooftop on November 14. He's with 3rd Battalion, 21st Infantry, 1st Brigade, 25th Infantry Division (Stryker), Fort Lewis, Wash.

The Long Road Ahead

The battle for Mosul in November 2004 was only the opening act of a protracted struggle for the city’s soul. While initial insurgent momentum had been blunted, the urban environment, fractured politics, and complex social dynamics guaranteed that peace would not come quickly.

The stage was set for weeks, even months, of attritional warfare—where endurance, adaptability, and coalition cohesion would be tested like never before.