Through Veterans' Eyes
Page 7
Traditional and neophyte groups alike have joined in advocating public policies to meet veterans’ needs. However, newer-breed groups often contextualize those needs within a framework of opposition to U.S. military involvement in Afghanistan and Iraq. IVAW, for example, organized “Winter Soldier Iraq and Afghanistan: Eyewitness Accounts of the Occupations,” a three-day set of hearings near Washington, D.C. Testimony from some two hundred veterans shared “the bare-knuckle stories that tell us the truth about what happens at the other end of the rifle, the missile, the bomb.”53 Two MFSO members are suing the DVA for negligence in the suicide of their son following his return from Iraq.54 Indeed, as the Iraq war has proceeded, veterans groups have increasingly come to play high-profile and politicized roles in the broader political debate about the rightness and winability of the conflict.
The Veterans History Project field kit suggests asking the interviewees, “Are you a member of any veterans’ or other organizations related to your service? Why?”55 While a large number of those who have served in Afghanistan or Iraq answer in the affirmative, it is unclear how that compares to earlier U.S. conflicts. Some veterans join and participate actively while others reject membership, wanting only to put the war behind them once and for all. Army Sgt. Craig Keys did both. He joined such a group, only to resign in protest over the annual membership fee. “I’m not going to pay you to be a veteran,” he told them heatedly.56 Without a doubt, veterans today have a striking array of service organizations across the entire political spectrum seeking their involvement.
Some interviewees express discomfort with their families’ political activism because of the sensitivity of the issues or because they may not agree with the sentiments expressed. “Just make clear that you’re not speaking for me, Mom,” said one Vermont soldier of her mother’s advocacy efforts.57 Carol Welch’s regular updates in the local paper on the nitty-gritty of her son’s daily life in Iraq were also avidly read by his cohorts and superiors in the field. Persons across the political spectrum, from peace activists advocating withdrawal of U.S. troops to members of groups applauding U.S. involvement—all of them claiming to support the troops while promoting diametrically opposed recommendations—make frequent references to the experiences of sons and daughters in uniform. Perhaps the temptation of people of all political stances to put words in soldiers’ mouths has contributed to the reluctance of some veterans to engage in the public arena.
The outspokenness of military families in promoting withdrawal of the U.S. military from Iraq has made it difficult for those urging the continued support of the wars and the commitment of additional troops to question their patriotism. That was clearly the case at a January 2007 demonstration in Washington, D.C., where the presence of military families (some carrying pictures of their sons’ or daughters’ graves) and of soldiers themselves (some in uniform, some suffering from PTSD) underscored the message that those who were expressing critical views have earned the right to be taken seriously.
New levels of political activism have also been seen among retired military leaders. In the run-up to the 2008 primaries, a group of officers met with candidates of both parties to present recommendations on the issues of detention and torture.58 As the 2008 presidential election heated up, phalanxes of generals rallied around the candidates of their choice. In fact, both presidential candidates in 2008 staged photo-ops with top brass. Following Barack Obama’s victory, a dozen retired senior military officers who had met with him earlier called on his transition team to recommend policies to “remove the stain” on the United States from its treatment of terrorism suspects by closing Guantanamo and repudiating torture.59
But many in the military are uncomfortable with such high-profile approaches. While retirees from the ranks are not forbidden from playing such a public role, will doing so contribute to a public perception that deep down, the military as an institution is anything but apolitical? Their active roles as analysts and commentators on talk shows raise similar issues. A series of recent off-the-record discussions among senior retired military officials confirmed a preference among their number for conveying views on policy and political issues through military or private channels or through elected representatives. “Partisan political activities of retired senior officers fueled civilian distrust of currently serving military officers,” reported the facilitators of the meetings.60 Expressing a somewhat different viewpoint, Brian Aria, a Marine lance corporal, suggests that since the views of officers such as these are well known, it is important for more enlisted personnel now to join the debate.61
In sum, most of those who served in Afghanistan and Iraq, faithful to military traditions and canons of military professionalism, have kept personal views of the conflicts largely out of the public spotlight. At the same time, many veterans hold strong views that are shared with each other in theater, communicated to families and a wider circle by e-mail and in blogs, and advocated by their respective organizations. As a result, veterans and their families and groups are becoming more of a political force to be reckoned with.
FOUR
Coping with Unfamiliarity and Violence
Soldiers deployed to Afghanistan and Iraq face numerous challenges. Above and beyond the technical requirements of their specialties—for example, infantry, military police, engineering, transport, and intelligence—two challenges loom particularly large. The first is functioning in an unfamiliar and foreign environment. The second involves coming to terms with the threat and/or reality of violence. The interviews provide an instructive picture of how veterans perceive and cope with these challenges.
UNFAMILIAR TERRAIN
The vast majority of U.S. troops in Afghanistan and Iraq describe some degree of culture shock upon touching down for the first time in their new surroundings. Linda McHale, a colonel in the Air Force Reserve, remembered vividly her “first big deep breath in Kuwait,” the way-station where many of the troops bound for Iraq were given a few days or weeks to acclimatize. “I think probably everybody talks about the heat,” she said, “but it was so foreign to me.”1 Others, too, mention feeling assaulted by the temperature. National Guard personnel from New Hampshire and Vermont, having trained in sub-zero weather in the White Mountains and at Fort Drum in northern New York, faced a 100-degree temperature shift almost overnight. Members of a Guard unit from the Virgin Islands, deployed to the mountains of Afghanistan, experienced the problem in reverse, from hot to cold. Julius Tulley, a sergeant in the National Guard from a Navajo reservation in Arizona, with less of a temperature change to contend with, still commented about how, upon his arrival in Kuwait, everything “looked so different. There were no deer, no mountains, all desert. It was about 120 degrees. It took some time to get used to it.”2
Colonel McHale also found “the dress and the Arabic language” off-putting. Even though she knew that Kuwait was “relatively safe, it felt threatening to me.”3 Unease among soldiers increased as they crossed into Iraq, leaving behind the creature comforts and relative security of Kuwait and becoming live targets for enemy action. Even identifying the enemy, however, was difficult. “They all dress in civilian clothes,” said one soldier from New Hampshire with exasperation. Referring to their thoubs, he said, “They put those dress things on—the man dresses, we called them.”4 In the circumstances, how could outsiders—and the interveners felt very much like outsiders—make the necessary distinctions between enemy insurgents and civilians?
Army Sgt. James J. Maddix from Michigan, who saw a lot of Iraq as a transport driver during his tour of sixteen months, found the language and culture confusing. “It was us who had to adapt” to the Iraqis, he observed, and the Iraqis often “pretended not to understand when asked to do things.” Cultural differences notwithstanding, he welcomed interactions with locals working on the base. “It was nice to learn about them and to meet new people.”5 Spec. Aubrey Shea Youngs of the Indiana National Guard also found her encounters a positive learning experience. “We got a chance to interact
with the locals on a first-hand basis. We got to see what they wanted as a country, not just: ‘Oh, we have all the terrorists over here that we have to wipe the country of.’” As a result of the interactions, she said, “You’re forced to figure out who you are and what your values are and what you want in life.”6
Marine Sgt. Travis Fisher found communication with local Iraqis “tough” and “really wished he’d spoken Arabic.” He appreciated the few Arabic words and expressions picked up during training back in the States but felt that having better communications skills would have improved relations with local Iraqis considerably.7 “When having a conversation with someone in English,” observed Lt. Col. Terry F. Moorer of the Alabama National Guard, “I can focus on their inflection, demeanor, gestures, and eye contact to form an impression of how truthful they are being. This was much harder to do when you didn’t know the language.”8
The situation in Afghanistan was not much more comfortable. Lt. Col. Jude Ferran, who served with the 11th Armored Cavalry, found the Dari and Pashtun languages difficult. Forced to rely on interpreters, he reported relatively little direct back-and-forth with the local population. He spoke warmly, however, of an occasional meal with Afghan leaders and he enjoyed regular conversations with merchants in the bazaar, with one of whom he discovered a common bond: they each had strong mothers-in-law. Once you meet and get to know local Afghans, he observed, you discover that “they’re no different than anyone else.”9
Many soldiers found the cultural complexities of the two countries unnerving. Variations in religious beliefs and practices, both within Islam and between Muslim and Christian sects, political factions and tribal and ethnic distinctions, complexities of language and customs—all seemed daunting. The perceived unreliability of some Iraqi soldiers and civilians with whom the troops were working also contributed to a sense of apprehension. In one incident in early 2007, U.S. troops killed a man planting a roadside bomb who, it turned out, carried papers identifying him as a sergeant in the Iraqi army. “We’re helping guys that are trying to kill us,” observed one of the Americans, wrote Michael Kamber in the New York Times. “We help them in the day. They turn around at night and try to kill us.”10 Lt. Col. Ross Brown, with the Army’s 3rd Armored Cavalry Regiment, contrasted the situation in Iraq, where “there is nothing black and white—it’s all about gray,” with the simplicity of the Berlin Wall and the Cold War.11
The challenge of familiarization with the local scene was not one that the troops could carry out in a vacuum. That U.S. soldiers were outsiders whose presence was contested by armed groups in Afghanistan and Iraq alike added an element of danger. To be sure, the initial American contingents deployed to Afghanistan in October 2001 to battle the Taliban and track down Osama bin Laden had the support of wide segments of the population. Similarly, the widespread unpopularity of Saddam Hussein ensured U.S. troops who invaded in March 2003 a welcoming reception in many quarters. Yet in each instance, the liberators soon found themselves ensnared in situations with deep historical roots and great political complexity and came to be viewed by significant elements of the population as unwelcome occupiers. In Iraq, some of the weapons they had expected to have handed over were soon trained on them.
While most of those deployed considered themselves in danger, some contingents were more exposed than others. Some Vermont National Guard units, participating in Task Force Saber in central Iraq, found themselves on the front lines. Other units, managing a supply and transport depot in Kuwait at the Iraq border as part of Task Force Green Mountain, faced comparatively little risk. Similarly, the experience of the New Hampshire Guard in Iraq featured a daily diet of danger while New Hampshire cohorts providing support for operations at the Bagram Air Base in Afghanistan encountered only the occasional stray mortar or the odd detainee protest. One soldier who spent an entire year in and around Bagram noted that on only a dozen occasions had she and her unit ventured “outside the wire,” referring to the more risky areas beyond the protected confines of military installations.
Even those who did not consider themselves directly in harm’s way sensed the prevailing insecurity. “You have to be a little scared,” said Sgt. Shawn Molloy, who served with an Army medical company. “I was scared the entire time I was in Iraq. I was always in danger,” observes Sgt. Mike Moriarty in The War Tapes:12 “You almost have to have a false sense of security to do this business. You almost have to convince yourself in your head that it won’t happen to me…. If you didn’t have any faith, you’d probably have a very hard time leaving the wire everyday.”13 In the words of another New Hampshire soldier, the experience of serving in Iraq “fucking changes you. It doesn’t mean it changes your personality, and change doesn’t have to be all bad. But this is a huge, life-altering fact.”14
A chaplain in the DVA hospital system, himself a veteran with a long résumé of frontline assignments, described the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq as involving an inescapable feeling of “living 24/7/52 with the fear, inside the wire, of artillery attacks and mortars and with the question, outside the wire, ‘Is it my turn for my jeep to get hit by an IED?’” One observer wrote, “For some, becoming a soldier means surrendering the past and the future. In war, soldiers live breath by breath, each minute another that could have been lost.”15
“I lived in constant dread,” recalled Sgt. Benjamin Flanders, who was based at a transport hub in Iraq. “I had to contend with an imminent threat. It was an extremely stressful environment in Camp Anaconda. It was prone to attacks. You were not safe on the inside or the outside.”16 A compatriot confirmed this view: “This is the most helpless feeling I’ve ever had. I have no idea if I’m going to wake up tomorrow.”17 “On a day-to-day basis you try not to think about it, but when you get woken up by a mortar shell coming in, it’s hard not to be afraid,” recalled Col. Ralph Riley, who served in Iraq with the Mississippi National Guard as a dentist in early 2005. “It keeps you up at night. After a while, you just get used to it.”18
The invisibility and elusiveness of the enemy, particularly in Iraq, contributed to a pervasive sense of fear and uncertainty. “The whole time I was there,” observed Spec. Josh Nadeau of the New Hampshire National Guard, “I never fired at anything but muzzle flashes. You never saw them. I found myself screaming at the top of my lungs, you know, ‘Come out, come out.’”19
UNDERSTANDING THE LOCAL SCENE
The life-and-death importance of understanding the lay of the land places a premium on having persons within the ranks who speak the local languages. Some of the native-speakers were Americans who had grown up with or had learned Arabic, Dari, or Pashtun. New Hampshire’s Bazzi, an American of Lebanese extraction, received a commendation for “using his Arabic language skills to question three enemy prisoners on the spot, extracting information leading to a hasty raid on an enemy stronghold [and] the capture of a stockpile of enemy weapons, ammunition, and explosives.”20 But Army Sgt. Henry Lujan, who had studied some Arabic before deploying, found that even then he had difficulty distinguishing friend from foe.21
Unfamiliar with local culture and relatively isolated, the troops relied heavily on local interpreters, or “terps.” These were often the Afghans or Iraqis whom the soldiers got to know best and trusted most. The only Iraqi friend that Spec. Jeffrey Daniel Bartling of the Michigan National Guard made during his time in the country was, he said, his interpreter.22 “You put a lot of faith in your translator,” observed Army Capt. Ryan Aument, who served in Operation Iraqi Freedom (OIF). “He lived and worked with us. He went with us into the most difficult conflict situations.” Interpreters, Aument pointed out, operated “with tremendous risks to themselves and their families.”23
One American soldier whose task was to train members of the Afghan National Army, however, sounded a cautionary note: “Every Afghan that you talk to has an agenda. They may like you, they may be nice, they may even be loyal to a degree, but every single one of them has their own agenda as well.”24 The reliability of local
interpreters was indeed an issue. In a documentary shown on U.S. television, America at the Crossroads, an Arabic-speaking colleague of the crew that had done the filming on location in Iraq discovered on the soundtrack, after the crew had returned to the United States, what was really taking place: “Iraqi soldiers, ostensibly searching for cached weapons under the tutelage of American troops, discuss among themselves where the contraband is hidden and why the Americans won’t find it.”25
In Iraq alone, some 300 Iraqis serving as interpreters for the U.S. military reportedly lost their lives during the period of 2003–2008, whether from targeted attacks or random violence. Local interpreters are credited with helping U.S. soldiers “make sense of Iraq’s streets, politics, and history,” even though “these guides have been killed by snipers on foot patrols, blasted to shreds in roadside bombings and vilified by extremists as traitors.” In an effort to protect themselves, many terps went to elaborate lengths to conceal the identity of their employer and the nature of their employment.26 A decision in November 2008 by the U.S. military command in Iraq, taken in the light of reduced levels of violence in Baghdad, to forbid the wearing of feature-concealing face masks proved highly controversial.27