Editors’ Blog

Back Home from Iraq with Tomas Young

Sunday, April 6th, 2008

By Michael Slenske

Body of Evidence

Tomas Young

” Talking to my ex-wife about my erectile issues, having my mom stick the catheter in—those are all very intense things to watch. But the more people see about my daily life the more they know: 1) not to make impetuous decisions; 2) this war has personal consequences and ramifications that aren’t shown on the nightly news. “

On April 4, 2004, just his fifth day in Sadr City, Tomas Young got called outside the wire on a security detail. Though the Missouri native had been raring to hunt down Osama Bin Laden in his Afghan cave after joining the Army in a post-9/11 rush of patriotism, Young was strongly opposed to his deployment in Iraq. “Going to Canada wasn’t as in vogue amongst dissenting soldiers at that time, so I transferred into a job in the company clerk’s position from the infantry line platoon. I thought I was going to put myself in the safest position possible,” says Young. “It was a horrible plan.”

While riding in the back of a crowded, open-top water truck through a throng of armed Iraqi protesters, Young was hit with two rounds from an AK-47—the first severed his spine; the second shattered his left knee. “The silver lining there is that it wasn’t the other way around—at least this way I lost all feeling before I got shot in the knee,” he says. After being medevac’d to Kuwait, then Germany, Young eventually ended up at Walter Reed Hospital, where he requested and received a visit from Ralph Nader. The then-presidential hopeful brought along his friend Phil Donahue, who was so impressed with the young soldier that he visited him a few months later at his home in Liberty. There the ex-talk show host asked Young if he could make a documentary about him. “We spent [the next] three years working on it,” says Donahue, who alongside co-director Ellen Spiro, took cameras into every aspect of Young’s life—from his wedding to his first foray into the anti-war movement with Iraq Veterans Against the War (during his honeymoon at Cindy Sheehan’s Camp Casey rally in Crawford, Texas) to his younger brother’s emotional send-off for his own tour in Iraq. “I guess fortunately for the film, the first two years following an injury is the most difficult transition time for a body after a new paralysis,” says Young. “Everyday there were new things and new encounters.”

The result is the overwhelming Body of War, which has torn through the festival circuit snagging awards and raves along the way. It even drew a rare round of tears from a pack of New York film critics during our screening. “If you make anyone cry, I guess you want it to be the critics,” joked Young, who sat down with SMITH for a recent interview in Manhattan, where the film will make its theatrical debut April 9, followed by a national release. “Hopefully this movie will get people involved so they will take action.”

You just came from The Today Show. Most war documentaries don’t get that kind of coverage. How do you feel about that?
I’m ecstatic—to a point. I’m happy that it’s getting all this coverage, but only if it works. If five million people see this film but none of them are moved to action, while it may be a commercial success and it may put money in peoples’ pockets, I’ll still consider it a flop. But if only five or ten people see it but if a majority of them do something to enact a change in their community—be it to stop the war or help veterans’ issues—then I’ll consider the movie a giant success.

You don’t seem like a guy moved to what you’ve called “an impetuous decision” to go to war. Were you that way when you were younger?
When I saw the President stand on top of the World Trade Center rubble and make his megaphone declaration I was moved in a way. Yeah, I’m normally not that type of guy, but I sat there like everybody else did on September 11 for that whole day watching the coverage. I’m sure there are a lot of people who weren’t that type of guy in December of 1941 when the Japanese attached Pearl Harbor, but yet they felt moved to act in that way because of events that just unfolded.

Was there any pressure within your family to join?
No, not at all. There was no pressure from my family to join or not to join. My mom was worried of course, as a mother would be, but she understood my reasoning.

Why did you want to participate in this film?
If I had been shot and paralyzed in Afghanistan there would be no Body of War. I wouldn’t be doing interviews or anything of that sort, but I was shot and paralyzed, I lost my ability to not only walk, I lost control of bowel and bladder function, I lost sexual function and all sorts of other things in a war that I considered unjust and unnecessary. There was no, as we’ve seen, connection to 9/11, no WMD. I want this film to serve as a counter recruitment tool. I want people to realize that yes, if they do plan to join the military they can wait until after January of 2009.

I also want the government to understand that they cannot engage in a prolonged occupation of Iraq and continue to keep my fellow soldiers, Marines, and sailors over there for a fifth, sixth time. That disrupts not only the military personnel themselves but also their families. In the movie I get married but I also go through a divorce. Divorce is one of the many unforeseen casualties of war. Thanks to this government you don’t see the coffins, but you see the amputees, the paraplegics that this war has created. I want them to realize that if they want to continue that occupation they’re going to have to draft soldiers because not enough people are feeling the sting and the sacrifice of this war. I don’t necessarily endorse a draft, but I do feel that’s the way you need to spurn the American populace into action to get this war ended.

We’re five years in now, did you think you’d be talking about this war in 2008?
I was only there about a week. The optimist in me had hoped that we wouldn’t, but I guess the more pragmatic or pessimistic side of my brain kept saying, “No things are gonna go on for a while out there.” You heard a lot of talk for a while about those of us in the anti-war movement emboldening the enemy with our anti-war statements, but what emboldens a country like Iraq more than seeing 160,000 troops descend on the country for reasons that end up being false? What emboldens an enemy more than hearing a song by the likes of Toby Keith reach such great heights and status that says, “We’ll stick a boot in your ass because it’s the American way”?

To make the film, cameras were there when you were sleeping, they were there in the bathroom, they were there when your mother’s inserting a catheter for you. Was there a process you had to go through to let them get that close up?
Initially, I was a bit mindful of the cameras, I wanted to watch my Ps and Qs but eventually it got to the point where it dawned on me that the more people see the day-to-day workings of my life—talking to my ex-wife about my erectile issues and my blood thinners—that’s very personal, heady stuff; having my mom stick the catheter in inside the van—these are all very intense things to watch, I’m sure, but the more people saw about my daily life the more they’d know: 1) not to make impetuous decisions; 2) this war has personal consequences and ramifications that aren’t shown on the nightly news.

In the film you had to wear ice packs and take rests because you couldn’t regulate your body temperature, are you having better success with that now?
Yeah, I am actually. I still have dizzy spells. I fell back in my wheelchair and cracked my head on the concrete a few months ago and since then I’ve had some trouble with focus and concentration and I fall asleep at inopportune times, but it’s been four years since the injury, and I’ve gotten much more adjusted to a daily cycle and things aren’t quite as tough anymore.

Your brother Nathan’s been in Iraq since the fall. How’s he doing?
He’s doing as good as can be expected. He’s on his second deployment right now. He’ll be coming home around December, he’ll be getting out of the Army shortly after that. He’s not at all interested in re-enlisting.

Really? It seems like there was a point in the film where you had two guys in the same family, in the same army, in the same war, with differing viewpoints of what is actually happening in that war? What’s that dynamic like?
That may be my brother’s first deployment. While he was on his first deployment a lot of his fellow soldiers were on their second, so their attitudes and perceptions may have become a bit more jaded. And now, on his second deployment, he understands that he’s there for self-preservation. He’s there to do what they tell him to do because that’s what he signed up for, whether he agrees with it or not. He’s to do as he’s told and come home. He’s not interested in going in and kicking in doors as much anymore. We’re finding that there are a lot of soldiers who are understanding this. The New York Times recently ran a front-page article of six soldiers with their emails back home, saying they were just there for self-preservation. They were worried about their buddy to the right and to the left of them but they were just there to get home safe.

Ralph Nader and Phil Donahue came to see you at Walter Reed. What was that like?
A bunch of doctors showed up to talk to Ralph Nader. I had trouble getting care before that, but that day I could have had cancer because there was an oncologist present, I could have been a pregnant woman because I think there was someone from obstetrics there, just to talk to Ralph Nader.

What’s been your overall experience with the VA?
Hit or miss. The VA staff is amazing. They do the best with what they can. Unfortunately, what they can do and what they get is lacking because we have veterans from Vietnam, Korea, the first Gulf War, even some from World War II that are still around and still need care, plus an influx of other soldiers. We have almost 29,000 people that are seriously injured. That doesn’t count the tens of thousands more that are kind of injured, who need psychiatric care, who are mentally injured. And that’s going to cost money. They’re estimating due to veterans costs this war will roughly cost between $3 and $4 trillion and that money needs to come from somewhere. The government will be quick to point out there has been increased VA spending but not enough, it’s still criminally under-funded. I’ll admit though right now my care at the VA has gotten pretty good. I don’t know if it’s because people are able to watch a documentary about me and my recovery or what.

Do you think that’s just the case for you personally?
I’ve been told by people in the VA that’s not the case, but I have been lied to by the VA before but as of right now they do not allow news cameras into their facilities. So my question would be if the care has gotten so substantially better across the board for all veterans and not just the ones who have documentaries coming out, why are they still unwilling to lift their veil of secrecy over the whole thing?

Do you feel there’s a vet’s candidate out there right now?
Well, it’s certainly not the current veteran candidate. I believe his voting record would show he’s the poorest in voting for veterans’ benefits. I can see where he wouldn’t understand veterans care because he’s on the Senate health plan, not going through the VA like a lot of other Vietnam vets have to do. At this point I would have to say Barack Obama is my candidate. Again, we’re going on election year promises, but he has pushed for better veterans’ care, he came through for those of us who were at Walter Reed and had to pay for our own meals and phone calls.

On the anti-war front you don’t really see a mass of people protesting like you did during Vietnam. What in your mind would or could change that?
A draft. Absolutely. Go back to World War II and we had war bonds, rations, we converted factories into places to make bombers and people felt the sting, added to the fact that we were attacked by a country and we attacked that country back. We didn’t go after China because they looked sort of similar to the Japanese so we had a great deal of patriotism. In Vietnam we had a draft because we had a very unpopular war. That draft angered people so they took to the streets, 50,000-plus American soldiers were drafted, saw what they saw and decided not to fight.

There’s no draft. We have five percent of the population serving in the armed forces, and .5 percent of the American population serving in Iraq and Afghanistan. Those numbers are not just bad or reprehensible they’re criminal. What you have is an overwhelming majority of American citizens opposing the war but that involves taking a phone call, going, “Oh yeah, I don’t like the war” and hanging up and that’s the end of your day. Or you see a bunch of yellow ribbon magnets that say, “Support Our Troops.” That involves a $3.99 investment at a gas station, but hey you did your part. Not enough people are feeling the sting and sacrifice to really want to get involved. This year you have three percent of the news cycle devoted to Iraq down from 15 percent in 2007, people are tuning out, and as that’s happening it can only be bad for business if the American people aren’t interested and involved.

How long will you stay on this tack?
Until I start to see some changes enacted. I do have a desire to just go back to being one of the people in the middle and just getting by living my life because being an antiwar activist in this day and age is pretty frustrating. You work so hard and don’t see any of your thoughts and ideas come to fruition; to do it with the things I go through on a daily basis—just to get out of bed and get through the day—it’s tough. So the answer to the question is: however long it takes to get something positive done.

Michael Slenske’s last Back Home From Iraq piece was an interview with Cpl Jacob Schick, featured in HBO’s Alive Day Memories.

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52 responses

  1. Donna Moreau says:

    I am so apalled by what Tomas has had to, and, will continue to have to, go through…..because he is a patriot. I want to be one of many, I pray, to help end this war. I, unfortunately, do not know how. Can someone, anyone, please help me, so I can help Tomas with his intentions. Any information would be appreciated. Thank you in advance, and I Pray for God’s blessings over you!

  2. rose says:

    Dear Donna,
    I saw a screening of Body of War in Chicago. Phil Donahue was there to present the film and to answer questions afterward. Many people asked the same question, “What can I do?” The answer is really quite simple. Do something. Join a local group that supports veterans (Iraq Veterans Against the War), protest the war, join a local chapter of moveon.org, just one of many groups you can find online that will be more than happy to have your participation. Write your representatives in congress. There’s something that everyone can do. The point is to make our voices heard, to stop this illegal occuaption, to bring our troops home and to take back our country.

  3. Carol Alexander says:

    I just viewed Body of War yesterday–I have been against the war long before it began. On 9/11 I spent the whole day in prayer–to be a voice of the reconciling word–because it was clear that the wrong people would be blamed for what happened on that day.

    Thanks to Tomas Young — and Phil Donahue and all who made this powerful film a reality — it is so necessary that the United States gets on the right track and stops trying to eradicate instead of facilitate and negotiate. And this film states a truth about war that must be heard in order to stop the lunacy of war. War is obsolete–and it is time to create peaceful solutions to the world’s problems.

  4. dawn says:

    I just watched your movie after a very long two days of heartache. You made me realize that though I am homeless, hungry, tired, and pissed, I’m still ok. I have always supported our troops though I didn’t agree with the war. Your movie has moved me in ways I cannot describe. I sincerely wish I could meet you face to face, you are my hero.

  5. James Crook says:

    what is iraq like?

  6. James Crook says:

    Tomas my addres is J_Crook_ 93@ live.com

  7. Nor says:

    I have always been against the war. I finally saw Body of War when it ran on the Sundance Channel, and I am agonized at what happened to Tomas. I completely support our veterans and don’t think they have been treated as well as they all deserve. I am hopeful that our new President-elect will find a way to end the war in Iraq, but I intend to write and do all I can to have veterans get all the care and benefits they need, since we will have more of them in Afghanistan. At least (and I still don’t like it) they have an actual purpose there, not just to support a president who wanted to be a ‘war president’ for his legacy. Which is in the toilet now, and I for one hope it stays there forever.

  8. Peggy says:

    I just had the honor of watching this fantatsic documentary via the sundance channel. I’m extremely upset that I had not heard of this film until stumbling across it myself. I have sent everyone, on my address list, an e-mail insisting they sit down and watch this. I cried, smiled, felt guilty and pissed all in a matter of an hour and half. Even though, I have to admit, I am not an anti war activist, I truly respect the view of someone who has been there and deserves for their opinion to be heard. My heart breaks that a veteran, in this day and age, is NOT given a priority in health care, employment, education, etc. So many family and friends are working minimum paying jobs and have no health insurance after making the sacrifice of serving this country, shame on us! I work for a county welfare office and hand out benefits on a daily basis to un-deserving citizens…Americans or not! God help us.

  9. Adrian Hauberg says:

    Hey Tomas, what’s up man. Just got through watching the documentary. Thank you for helping me see your side of things. I am not “for” war anywhere any time however, unfortunately in the world we live in today, it is hard to avoid. I just want you to know that we Americans support you and your comrades who have served our country with great honor. I am not a war vet and probably never will be. Instead, I choose to exercise the freedom that you helped to share with the people of Iraq. I understand your disagreement with the “reasons” in which we went to Iraq however, I ask you to keep in mind that you have played a part in securing a great possibility for so many other people (humans) to have an opportunity and freedom to make decisions as that tough decision you made September 13 2001. That in it’s self may not be enough for you to justify your sacrifice, however, I do believe it is enough for you to have peace in knowing that you did the best you could because you knew then what you still know to this very day, you did what you thought was right for this country, and that my friend is the essence of nobleness. My thoughts and prayers are with you and our troops still serving.

    God Bless America

    Sincerely,

    Adrian G. Hauberg

  10. Jan A says:

    Dear Tomas:

    I know you were very sick for a while there. How are you doing now?
    My admiration for you and your mom is huge. I know I am angry about the war . . . but had I lost as much as you have after being deliberately misled by idealogues who still have all their limbs and their pacemakers, I would be too angry and hurt to speak out. Thank you and your mom for allowing us to see your pain without flinching. And thank you both for doing so in such a calm, deliberative way without self-pity and with great dignity.

    Hang in there, Tomas. We need patriots like you in this country.

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  12. Buck R. says:

    Dear Tomas,

    i have a very basic question. When you joined the army, for what reasons ever, did you never occur the thought of beeing shot, getting killed or cribbled for life? An army is for going to war,meaning to kill enemy soldiers. Of course they will shoot back! WTF? I say you willingly took the risk - and you lost. How american society (including the army) deals with the war and you in the aftermath is a completely different question. You should try to prevent young dummsters from making the same mistake you did, instead of moralizing about the goverment or the state our nation is in.

  13. Lori says:

    I thought about responding to folk who think like Buck R. You wonder if it will do a bit of good. If it is just to assuage my own ego. You wonder if they have ever served. If they have ever read history. If they know anything other than what they are spoon fed. You wonder if the good lil Nazi’s thought the same. If, as their children were being taken into the military, they even batted an eye. You wonder.

    My sister was pro Bush. Pro war. Pro America’s-version-of-democracy. But, when I asked her why she didn’t send her daughter into the military (even the airforce) to support a war that her president authorized, she said, “She might get hurt.”

    As if to say that other people’s children are okay to hurt…but not her own. My own sister is an elitist. Ugh.

    Buck R. I joined the ARMY too. I joined it knowing they would shoot back. No WTF. But…when you give your life or have it shattered from top to bottom, you have a right to scrutinize the reason behind those injuries. I am sure that if Tomas could find a reason to be proud…he would be…of every agony. But, he isn’t willing to be a poster hero…and that is his right as a man. A man. He who learns from mistakes. A dummster. One who does not protect and rally behind him in doing so.

  14. peculiarchiro says:

    Dear Tomas, Thank you for your service to our country first of all. I find the treatment of the VA in your situation disheartening and disgusting. Like you said the army is all about getting you to enlist but could give a rats ass about you after you are injured. I admire you and pray for peace to find you. I have written a song dedicated to you and would very much like to send it to you. I have hopes of raising money with this song to donate to wounded vets such as yourself. Please help in anyway that you can. My warmest regards to you and don’t stop fighting for what you believe in everyday. You make a difference. I was very touched by body of war and it is reflected in my song. God bless you and your family sir.

  15. The Old Man says:

    Although his writing skills leave something to be desired, Buck’s point should be viewed as an attempt to keep others from the proverbial “slippery slope”. Witness…
    After the tragedy of 9/11, I too wanted to rush over and dole out some whipass on those responsible. Problem is… I was too old. Just as Tomas’ parents are opposed politically, so it was in my own household - my wife the Liberal. Every nightly news broadcast seemed to spark confrontation, as she would lament “those poor boys” and curse the administration for trying to confuse the masses about Saddam’s “innocence” for 9/11 and his dis-association with terrorism and its adherents.
    My argument was that extremism - Muslim or otherwise - was (and still IS) a threat to the safety of the United States. The tactics used by Saddam against his own populace since 1979 is the true face of despicability, and demonstrated his own lack of compunction in using terrorist methods. The complete snubbing of UN mandate since 1994 was especially indicative of his laissez-faire attitude in compliance with world law. His possession of WMDs — the supposed “reason” that we went to oust him — were not a secret. The UN has a list of such weapons possessed by nations all over the world, and they have protocols for the safe storage and handling of such weapons. After waving the white flag in 1991, Hussein acquiesced to the UN for inspection and compliance with procedures that would provide a degree of safety for Iraq’s neighbors.
    In 1994, Saddam began his systematic drama, serving to escalate suspicion, and creating a sense of distrust within the world community. Rather than submit to proper international diplomacy, he chose instead to thumb his nose at UN sanctions and at the Resolutions passed to restrict his ability to wage war unprovoked (as he did in 1984 and again in 1990). He was a menace needing removed.
    In Spring of 2006, Congress passed a law increasing the age of military induction. I just passed the cut and hurried to join. This, coincidentally, after having served in the Navy in 1983-1984. It took several months to get all the documents and waivers in order, and not only did I go in as a lower enlisted soldier, but I joined in a combat arms branch… 19D. All through my training, there were many who doubted the “old man”, but it was clear to all that no one was going to tell THIS 40-something that he couldn’t do it.
    My unit happened to be part of the surge of 20,000 charged with quelling the sectarian violence wracking the Sunni Triangle (and the sporadic attacks near Baghdad’s Green Zone). Though not injured, I got to experience my own share of what it was like there. It is easy to see why Tomas would be inclined to speak out against the seeming injustices he feels he has been subjected to. I happen to know a few troops injured while serving, and my wife got to help with some of their rehab while working as a nurse as the Darnall Medical Hospital at Fort Hood. What a refreshing note that the injured soldiers I know are not weapy over their condition however, and are not full of self pity because they came back different…
    After watching Body of War, it was immediately apparent to me that this young fella probably would NOT have this bitterness had he came back whole. This “questioning” of the government’s motives is really sour grapes. I much preferred the attitude of his father and brother, and wish I could have been able to hear more about THEIR views and THEIR reactions to what Tomas and his mother are portraying. Undoubtedly our government tells us what it wants to tell us, true or not, yet even still there are young men and women (and some not-so-young) that are filling the ranks. Still, those that have deployed… and maybe deployed a couple of times… are staying in and returning overseas to do the nastiest of jobs. Tomas’ mother says he wanted to go to school (on the GI Bill, no doubt) and travel abroad. Did he think it was an all-expense paid travel package? It’s WAR dude, there ARE consequences and risks! Want to get your education? Ok… then quit feeling sorry for yourself and showing pride in being savvy about the drugs you are imbibing (bet the morphine was really kicking in when while speaking at that church). Going around the country trying to drum up support for anti-war sentiment is old hat and demeaning to those soldiers who sacrificed as Tomas. It denegrates the bravery of those that know what lies ahead - particularly now that there is no secret misinformation or misleading statements before Congress or the UN Security Council. I honor those who DO NOT feel sorry for themselves, pretending to be innocent little children who should have been told that they might get hurt, and that they would have come home fine if they “hadn’t been lied to”. BS.
    I certainly feel some sorrow for his family, especially his wife. There are always two sides, and I am sure that she was not perfect, yet the movie showed no evidence whatsoever that she did ANYTHING BUT support her man. Instead of chain-smoking cigarettes, and seeking the well-wishes of bleeding-hearts who are identifying with him as their own “lost child”, maybe Tomas could have put a bit more effort into being a better man. By now, 5 years later, he could have had a college degree and be pursuing a better life with a supportive wife and mother. Instead, he will dissolve into the landscape of bitter veterans who would rather draw attention to themselves with “woe is me” behavior in order to justify their unhappiness.

    Kevin Harrelson
    15-month Iraqi veteran (2007-2009)
    Son, Brother, Father, Grand-father
    Columbia, Missouri

  16. Jon says:

    The Old Man hit the nail square on the head.

  17. The Old Man says:

    Thanks Jon. I have been coming back to this site periodically to see what responses might appear from my little “speech”, and have been rather disgruntled that none were forthcoming.

    I lament Tomas’ injuries as I lament ALL injured servicemen and women, but I cannot and WILL NOT stand idly by and let the misfortunes of one become a rallying call to the woes of all who have been injured or killed in service to their country. This cagey piece of propoganda so cleverly disguised as a documentary showed me exactly the kind of attitude that has created the malaise currently afflicting our great nation. There is a reason — after all — why those that fought in WW II were known as the greatest generation.

    If we are going to heap a load of sympathy on injured vets, why not start with those of Vietnam and Korea? They were DRAFTED to do their jobs, not volunteers, and they were not told the whole story either. Our leaders had hidden agendas in those wars also, and what were the paybacks for our troops? “Forgotten” (as Korea is often called), while being demonstrated against, called “baby-killer”, and spit on when they arrived back in the US. (My own father, incidentally, being one that got THAT sort of treatment and “thanks” for HIS service.) Speaking out against our government’s involvement in foreign affairs is our right as US citizens, but assuming such a stance after the fact — particularly when deciding to be a part of that policy — is selfish and quite Un-American.

    “Being a man”, as Lori claims, surely means learning from mistakes. I’ll give her that. But to imply that such a statement applies to Tomas on equal terms with some other who has embraced their sacrifices with their chin up, and without looking for pity, is purely asinine. Entitlement to have your education funded and opportunities to travel abroad is NOT what military service is about. To point fingers when things don’t turn out as planned is childish and does not agree with the word “Honor”, nor does it go very far in determining one’s worth as “a man”.

    It is unfortunate that today’s “microwave” generation so unabashedly displays this sense of entitlement. Military service (and dare I say, SACRIFICE) is for ensuring that ALL of our fellow citizens are able to pursue the opportunities to prosper and enjoy life and liberty. An injured veteran is most valued for displaying qualities of giving without the guarantee of getting anything in return (other than the security of our American freedoms). When the day has come that all injured veterans and their loved ones behave as Tomas and his mother, I fear for the sanctity of our American doctrine of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

  18. dave says:

    hi tom
    just finished watchin your film and i was touched.i know our goverment is corrupt and i don’t trust none of them and due to alot of money and power ,there is nothing we can do.The good news is God loves you more than you can imagine.I urge you to,not to protest but forgive them and find the peace that God has to offer.God will be our vengence.Other than the bible ,there is good book that explains how to find Gods peace,titled/The Purpose Drivin Life. i pray you read this
    sincerely /with love
    Dave

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  22. Duncan Koebrich says:

    The Poor, Bloody Infantryman of April 4th, 2004
    It is difficult to see much. To your left, up past the hell hole, you can see a glow around the driver, and some activity in the turret, which is constantly moving in directions that are beyond your understanding. You’ve never eaten sardines, but behind the communications chatter you get the expression as five heads bob to the bumps and turns of the Bradley Fighting Vehicle. Muzzle pointed downwards to prevent shooting you or your buddies faces off as the SOP demands, you glance at the tactical display in a vain attempt to figure out your surroundings. You ponder nodding off when a certain finality is perceived from the incoherent dialogue scraping from the intercom. Your ears prick up and body tenses in anticipation as the vehicle stops powerfully. The ramp lowers, letting in the light and stench about Sadr City, Baghdad, in your opinion and limited experience, the worst place on Earth, probably in the entire solar system.

    First Squad, your beloved Third Squad, the LT and the CO mixed in, set out into the city, and the vehicles roll off out of your sight. With 75,000 people per square shit kilometer, and a total of 2.5 million in the large Shiite neighborhood, the sewage system has expanded to the streets. Having all ready experienced the “what the fuck?” the night before, you try to pick your way around the black matter littered everywhere while maintaining a staggered column formation and a military bearing. The citizens are curious, as they have never interacted with a dismounted mechanized infantry platoon before. You wonder what you look like to them, encased in your body armor, Kevlar, two 200 round drums, two 100 round lovingly named “nut sacks”, seven 30 round magazines, a camel back, M249 Squad Automatic Weapon with a 200 round drum locked and loaded, boots, fatigues, 2 ceramic “SAPI” plate inserts, and a pair of large, dark sand-resistant sunglasses, an item both practical and badassening. To your amazement, you find yourself walking down the streets of Sadr City thus equipped.

    Pay attention. Stay alert. Fast approaching is a goat tending to a large pile of trash. Can you deviate from the formation slightly to avoid it? The people are watching, and they are many. You don’t want to look weak to the populace, so you don’t ask your team leader. You walk right through it, the black flies swarming your face. The goat is surprised, the people probably too. Fuck that.

    “Keep your distance”. The army is full of contingency planning, training, and sound bytes just like that which have never made you more uncomfortable than they are right now. You “keep your distance” in order to minimize casualties in the event of a blast of some kind. The application and relevance of this procedure are no longer abstract. You have to plan for the most fucked up contingencies in the army.

    You try not to think of the hundreds of thousands of people surrounding your twenty as you continue patrolling, scanning the rooftops and windows as you were trained when this was an abstraction. Two days has acclimated you to the stench, but the catalyst for that acclimation is still revolting, and worth avoiding when possible.

    There is a vehicle parked, and you are at the front of the right side of the staggered column formation. You are instinctively nervous after countless exposures to the concept of the IED, yet another abstraction. You do not want to examine it for fear of death. You look into the rear window and see wires running into the trunk and inform your squad leader. The formation halts and assumes a defensive posture while, as ordered, you examine the vehicle further.

    The civilians are still watching, and word travels quickly in Sadr City. The owner approaches, demonstrates his vehicle’s banality, and your squad leads the formation down a back alley presumably on the patrol’s route.

    The muscle memory you have attained from holding your 17lb M249 SAW, further facilitated by your sling, make handling your weapon a breeze but the ammo and equipment make long maneuvers taxing. You are doing ok as the narrow streets wind and unwind around you, the simple 2 to 3 story structures obstructing the brutal sun. The narrower surroundings call for a tighter formation. Stay alert. Stay alive.

    With a perceptible urgency, your team leader brings you to a halt at a T intersection. Sal is a confident sergeant, having been in the war the year before, and you wonder what could make him nervous as you cover your sector. Evidently, you presume, there is some activity to the rear of the formation. Everything looks fine from where you are.

    Sal acknowledges a transmission from his Motorola radio optimistically, and you lead the contingent onto a major avenue in a tighter staggered column formation. The curious civilian followers have turned from dozens to thousands in minutes, and you have found yourself gripping your weapon tighter as you carve your way through the horde.

    It is getting louder and you don’t know what the hell is going on. There is shouting. A man walking next to the formation, with you. He steps in, you push him out. To your embarrassment, you are informed that he is the interpreter. The interpreter looks freaked out, you say “Afwan”, which means “excuse me”, one of the only pieces of Arabic you have picked up from the cds you bought.

    Suddenly, Sal communicates that the fire team must run back to first squad. People get out of your way when you are thus equipped and attired, but before you reach first squad Sal tells you to stop and resume your former bearing. You are confused as you reach your former position. “Don’t run. Walk” your squad leader barks. Hmmm, where did he come from? Evidently the formation is getting tighter.

    The order to charge back to first squad is repeated. You race back with your squad but are told to turn back again. You turn and walk. There are too many civilians present to begin to be able to count, their attention directed at you. It feels similar to your acting days in high school, where two years prior you were rehearsing your role as “Teddy Roosevelt” in “Arsenic and Old Lace”. Now, right now, you are playing the role of an infantryman, your boots on the ground, surrounded by an increasingly excited horde of foreign nationals. So look tough.

    Sal acknowledges an order, you are brought to a halt and the command for a line formation is given. Facing the direction of first squad, you see an ugly mob pelting your friends with rocks. You are braced and surging with energy. The order is given to charge the crowd. On a line, your squad charges into the crowd, penetrating deeply to their dispersion. You are told to halt, and as you turn and walk back you see first squad on a line utilizing a very hostile posture. As you pass them they charge the crowd. Your squad assumes another line formation further up the route, turns and faces the mob. First squad approaches and walks past. You are ordered to point your weapon at the civilians. You have never pointed your weapon at a human being before. The order to charge is given and you penetrate deeper this time. Rocks fly everywhere around your squad but miss you as you turn and walk back behind first squad, who charge as you pass once again.

    You are slowly making progress. First squad passes, you charge. The crowd does not give. Instead of turning and walking behind first squad you are brought to a halt, told to turn and point your weapons at the crowd. Rocks are not hitting you but are flying everywhere, pelting your squad. The mob gets much closer. You make eye contact from behind your sunglasses with as many human beings as possible. They avert your gaze.

    First squad rushes past and crashes into the populace, grabbing participants and dragging them past your squad. Then again, and again. The swell has left a little girl, crying and confused directly between you and the horde. The rocks are hitting her, she is in pain. To the strong dismay of your leadership, you rush forward, grab the girl and reassume your place in the formation placing her directly behind you.

    A Bradley arrives and stops behind first squad up the route. To your left there is a fence enclosing a field with a tiny utility building next to you. Flanking the avenue further down are two and three story buildings with increasingly menacing windows and rooftops. There is evidence of activity on both. Leaning on the tiny building to your left, a teenaged boy gestures confidently with his left hand, saying “you go now”. In an act of naked aggression, you show him your middle finger. The mother of the child appears in front of the crowd, and you gesture for the little girl to join her.

    The rocks continue to fall. Arsiaga gets hit badly and his hand is bleeding. The crowd is chanting in unison. You can hear chanting on the other city blocks around you. You have taken a knee and are scanning the crowd with your weapon, an unthinkably hostile gesture. You take your weapon off safe….you stare down thousands of human beings from behind your sunglasses, the information being analyzed by your brain. In theory, you know what your weapon is capable of, but the application of this destruction is reserved for situations of direct peril or the orders of someone that outranks you.

    An LMTV arrives, turns to face the direction of your Forward Operating Base, and to the cheers of the populace you are ordered to confidently board the large open bed truck. The truck bed could reasonably hold 18 men, and the cab three. Your heart is racing with excitement as you banter with your buddies on the short ride back to FOB War Eagle.

    Sal assures you “Good job, Duncaroo” to your delight. You hope that you pulled off being a badass well, a difficult achievement for your 19 year old youthful self.

    You disembark in the motor pool and gather around for the After Action Review. You are embarrassed about the car incident, but it is brought up as a positive event in the review. The misunderstanding with the interpreter is blamed on your leadership for not introducing him to the men. Everyone agrees that the escalation and confrontation was pulled off perfectly. This was the most exciting thing that has ever happened to you.

    Mercifully, you are released for chow. You walk to the maintenance bay that you currently reside in, crowded by most of the battalion, and doff your full battle rattle, replacing it with your boonie cap and weapon. With pep in your step, you stroll to the chow site with your battle buddy, Panimboza, acknowledging higher ranking soldiers and speculating about creating a soccer team (football) on the way. You are both exhausted, being the two SAW gunners of the squad, and wait in anticipation as the line creeps forward to your benefit.

    What passes for hot chow is certainly better than MREs, or “Meals Rejected by Ethiopians”. The “chicken with afraid to eat it sauce” is pretty all right.

    You shuffle from station to station with your tray, thanking gratefully the POGs.

    You pick out a place to sit amongst the long picnic tables, climb over the seat and just as you are finally about to sit down and unburden yourself, just as you are setting down your tray the chow site erupts in calls for the QRF. You hear them yelling “QRF, QRF, elements of bravo company are under attack in the city”. You have dropped your tray and are running back to the maintenance bay before you know it. Your squad still holds the duty of QRF, or Quick Reaction Force, for your Alpha company. The FOB is calling for you as you race in, grab your shit, and make your way for the motor pool. You pass by the tents where your buddy, Taylor, a commo guy, lives and he has a certain expression on his face.

    One of the Bradleys has it’s ramp down, you board it, turn and start waving for your buddies to mount up when Sergeant Elliot, 2nd squad leader, tells you to climb onto the LMTV, essentially a large unarmored truck. In an uncharacteristic expression of outrage towards so shitty an idea, you yell “what the fuck” with your words and your body, and you approach the truck bed. Sal arrives next, and you help one another climb aboard. No one knows what the hell is going on as second squad and your squad climb into the truck bed, pushing you and Sal to standing between the truck bed and the truck cab. You are standing above the skeletal canopy when Sal insists “Give me the SAW, Duncaroo, you’re not ready”. You take his M16 and establish yourself along the large spare tire attached to the back of the cab, facing to Sal’s right, who has taken your SAW and placed it on the cab roof, biped deployed and utilized. Your squad leader and second squad leader are in the cab, with Walker driving, as you roll out of the FOB and line up outside with the commander’s Hummvee in front and two Bradley’s with just their crews behind.

    A pop and a hiss rush past from the large open field in front of the FOB. The people that were playing soccer are now running, and you think you can see the shooter. After communicating this to your LT, standing next to your vehicle, you decline his order to engage on account of the civilians. Your LT is clearly annoyed as he climbs into the CO’s vehicle. Lock and load, prepare for contact.

    What the fuck?

    There are large smoke trails rising above the buildings. On the edge, your convoy passes an M1Abrams with her crew pointed into the city with a look of horror on their faces, you cheer because your buddies are cheering, and as the threshold is crossed the bullets start to spray down. You had never heard those sounds before, but they were instantly recognizable. Someone yells “I think they are firing at us, what do we do”? You yell “fucking fire back” and begin unloading on the rooftops, then the windows and the streets themselves. The convoy encounters a burning roadblock, the incoming fire intensifies. A man with a large belly dressed in white takes a knee on a balcony, maybe his balcony, aims his AK-47, you fire into him and he slouches as you turn back to cover Sal’s right. Two full squads are unleashing their capacities on the growing number of hostiles, now in the thousands, firing from all of the rooftops and windows.

    Sal is yelling obscenities, the shell casings flying out and bouncing violently off your teeth. You are smiling, because that is such typical Sal behavior. The convoy encounters yet another roadblock. The whizzes intensify further, you desperately fire the M16 at every flash you see. There are explosions and moaning from the back of the truck. The convoy slows, a device is thrown from young hands, there is a large bang and you can see blood spurt out onto the SAW from the corner of your eye. You aim quickly and fire a burst of rounds and the head bursts open, the body falling in a heap. Sal says “Duncaroo, I feel funny” with bits of his face hanging off. Your ears are ringing. You pin Sal to the truck cab, grab the SAW, and begin squeezing the trigger in quick bursts. The targets are difficult to see and numerous.

    The convoy turns into a narrower alleyway as the cracks and whizzes intensify. The lead HMWV lurches to a halt. Your vehicle pulls up next to it, and from where you are standing you can see Jerry Bune, your old roommate, in the makeshift gunner position on the HMWV, squirming on his back, firing wildly with his M16 into the buildings, blood flowing from his legs.

    There are suddenly a great deal of bullets being shot in your exposed position. After several loud cracks and a warm sensation on your chest, your weapon ceases to function. You go through the motions of correcting a jammed SAW while Sal is mumbling three times, grab him and jump into the truck bed. There is another loud explosion that sounds like fire and the vehicle lurches. Sal is sitting on your shins, calling to Sgt Timm, who is grabbing at the blood spurting out of multiple places somewhere to your left, an intense look of pain where his face was normally jovial. You pick up an M16 and fire at everything in the windows and on the rooftops. You tell Sal he’s going to be ok, Thompson screams and lifts his hand towards your face. He is missing two fingers, so you inquire as to his well being. “Well, I won’t play the piano anymore” he responds, and continues firing. The vehicle has not moved in some time and the situation is looking grim. There is nothing to hide behind as the bullets fly around you, bouncing off the vehicle and too many into your friends. You pick up another M16 and fire all its rounds. Then another. You turn your head, and hear a bullet whiz by your face. The noise is deafening, and completely out of your control.

    You must allow this to happen around you, you have no choice.

    Sal repeats “Duncaroo, I feel funny” and you can see his body lurching from more impacts into his SAPI plates. You pick up another M16 and pull it close to your face in a pathetic attempt at protection. You wonder why the vehicle isn’t moving, what are your orders? From the side of the vehicle the CO’s voice pierces in “how are you guys doing back there?”. “Get us the fuck out of here”, replies Thomson, to which Captain Lewis responds, “There’s no need to curse”. This sounds absurd to you.

    You are soaked, and begin to wonder after your camel back. An eternity passes and you will not survive. Not many of your platoon’s weapons are still firing when by some miracle the vehicle begins moving again, limping through the relentless small arms fire. A certain spray of bullets and a shape falls back onto your lap. It’s Garza. He is in a lot of pain. The emboldened enemy is standing in open sight now as your vehicle teeters out of the city. Garza begins to vomit. He’s vomiting a lot and some of it might get on you. You ask Thompson what to do. “Tilt his head, Jackass”. Tilting his head to hold his eyes you assure him that he will be all right. You must be almost out of the city because it is getting quieter, except for the moans and screams all around you. Garza’s eyes roll into the back of his head. “I think Garza is dead”, you regret saying immediately because what if he’s alive and hears you?

    Looking up, you finally see a guard tower and begin yelling for a medic. Screaming. You are calling for a medic, and you really mean it.

    The vehicle stops and the tailgate is opened. Your friends are being dragged off into the bright lights penetrating the evening shroud. You help as best as you can, being towards the front of the truck bed. A pair of boots is grabbed at the ankles, and you watch in horror as his helmet comes off and his brains dump out into the blood and shell casing covering the deck. The face is pale, like the brain matter, with a kind of surprised painful expression. “Is that fucking Flores?!”, you yell. “No, man, it’s Arsiaga”. You begin to go numb as they drag the bodies off until you are the last one left. You pick up weapons anchored in the blood of your friends and clear the chambers, putting them on safe. On autopilot. You dismount.

    Sergeant First Class Butler is standing next to the vehicle with a notepad. You tell him you don’t know what the casualties were, and no, you don’t think that you have been wounded.

    Outside of the maintenance bay, you tear off your vest, throw it onto the ground and howl at the top of your lungs, bent over with fists clenched. You walk inside, covered in blood and dragging your equipment behind you, making an impression on the guys going about their business in the bay. Some soldiers from another unit run up and inspect you, exclaiming in amazement at the bullet lodged in your front SAPI plate. You ask for a cigarette and smoke the kind of cigarette you smoke when you don’t give a damn about the strict regulations forbidding it, your capacity for bullshit lost with what was once an abstraction. Shaking and covered in blood, it wasn’t your camel back after all, thus baptized you rise a new human being, reborn into a more accurate, better informed reality.

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