Wesley Gray - Embedded

People ain’t people the world over after all, are they? They sure ain’t like us, and for any ignorant person here to even suggest using an American style of problem solving is ridiculous to say the least. The people of the Middle East or Southwest Asia are more of a feudal society than anything else. Yes or no? In other words, their allegiance goes to the path of least resistance or harm and that knows no government. Honestly, I believe individual courage is a rarity in their society unless you are a religious zealot. They fear being out of the mainstream, which is essentially forced upon them by thugs, warlords, and religious fanatics. There is no overarching rule of law such as we have in the United States, even though Iraq is where the rule of law actually started with Hammurabi. But trying to change their minds under that premise, is just plain ill informed and incompetent.

The smile of a child is a wonderful thing in any civilization. It is as if they have something in common with us after all. That is until they have been tainted by the idealism of their supposed adults. I hope you have spent more time with some of the elders there rather than passing candy or toys out to children. You must win the hearts and minds of the elders in order to help change the future lives of those children you encounter. Not to burst your bubble or anything, but even the cutest of puppies can grow up to be a raged dog if not properly raised by a competent trainer. Hopefully that is what you will take home with you.

Stay alert, be smart, and learn every day. You are in the best college available. My dad told me, “There is a lesson to be learned from everyone, thing, or situation. The goal of the truly intelligent is be able to see what that lesson is.” I am proud of you, Wes. As proud of you as if you were my own blood.

“They cut their heads off and mailed them to the families?” I asked Corporal Shlessinger, a member of the Police Training Team (PTT) working with Colonel Farooq, the Iraqi Police leader in Haditha. He replied, “Yes, it’s completely fucked up. Ten of our Iraqi police members were going on leave just north of Barwana to a town called Beiji. The insurgents caught them in a vehicle check point, chopped off their heads, and sent the heads to each of the respective families with a note telling the families to never cooperate with American or Iraqi government security forces.”

I asked, “What did Colonel Farooq do about this?” Shlessinger replied, “Well, he actually collected all the heads from the families and gave them a proper burial during a ceremony held the other day. I mean, what can he say? All he cares about is getting revenge.” Taken aback, I replied, “Yeah, sheesh. This country is warped.”

After hearing about the bad news for the Iraqi police, I was in no mood to hear about more chaos. Nobody listened. Captain McShane came sprinting onto the MiTT COC patio with the bad news. “The leave convoy returning from Najaf was just attacked with a massive IED,” he said. “Captain Hasen is missing half his torso and is presumably dead. Lieutenant Leif cannot even be found. Lieutenant Ahmed and Lieutenant Abass are both seriously wounded—it isn’t looking good. I’m still trying to get details from brigade.”

I couldn’t believe it. Captain Hasen was dead? He was one of my best Iraqi friends and the best officer in the battalion. Hasen was a family man with two young daughters and a beautiful wife. He was not supposed to die. Losing Hasen would be a huge blow to the morale of the battalion and the country of Iraq. He was one of the few true Iraqi patriots in the country. Tragic. Doc said, “Dude, we are fucked.” I responded, “Yeah, that is some seriously bad news, man. I can’t believe we were sitting on this same patio a week ago eating popcorn with Hasen. Things aren’t looking up these days.”

War was indeed hell. Just a few weeks earlier we had lost some of our top Iraqi officers to an IED attack near Fallujah. A few days earlier Capt. Rob Secher, a fellow MiTT member in Hit, had been killed by a sniper bullet. During Captain Secher’s memorial service 122-mm mortars came crashing into the ceremony with pinpoint precision. Someone within their Iraqi battalion had likely snitched to the insurgents. The initial estimates were five jundi killed, thirty-two seriously wounded, and one Marine adviser seriously injured. The insurgents didn’t even have the decency to allow us to mourn our dead.

There was huge news out of Baghdad in late November. A massive attack on Sadr City, a primarily Shia area of the city dominated by the Mahdi army, had caused over 160 dead and anywhere from 200 to 300 wounded, with perhaps many more dead. At first glance a massive attack in Baghdad shouldn’t have had an effect on our operations in Al Anbar Province. Unfortunately, we were feeling the effects.

The attacks prompted a countrywide vehicle curfew, which meant that the leave runs from Najaf had to be delayed yet again. And that meant that we would lose our fresh soldiers coming back to the battalion. The other consequence was that all the jundi were extremely concerned about their families and knew that they would not be going home anytime soon. Morale, already low, was sure to plummet.

To get further insight on how the recent violence in the country was affecting the jundi , I went directly to the source. I made my way to Sermen’s swahut to get the inside scoop. Sermen, who had just returned from vacation in Baghdad, greeted me at his door. “Wasup, Jamal? Come on in, let’s drink tea.” I obliged and followed him into the rustic swahut. “Jamal, Baghdad is pure chaos,” he said. “You wouldn’t believe it. There are no longer rooms in the hospital to care for the wounded and people are being left in the streets to rot and die. Shit is disgusting.” I urged Sermen and his mates to tell me more.

Sermen went on to describe a harrowing incident he had experienced at one of the sectarian checkpoints set up all around the country by various Sunni, Shia, and tribal militia groups. “Jamal, it’s crazy. Just last week on my vacation, my buddy and I, who are both Sunnis, were actually stopped at a checkpoint on my motorcycle. We tried to divert our path, but their cars barricaded the road so fast we couldn’t run away. Before Mohammed and I could figure out a getaway plan, the militiamen approached us.” Sermen paused briefly then continued. “Mohammed, the dumbass he was, thought the men were Shia, so he pulled out his Shia version of identification [many jundi carry a Shia version of their identification and a Sunni version of their identification so they can present the appropriate version at militia checkpoints, which are scattered throughout Iraq]. I knew they were Sunni, so I pulled out my Sunni ID. In the end I was right. They were part of a local Sunni militia.”

I asked, “What did they do to you guys?” He replied, “Well, for the next ten minutes I had to beg for Mohammed’s life and try to convince the men that he was trying to cover as a Shia because he believed they were Shia. These guys were not having any of it. They gave me a proposal and said I had to accept it. The lead man told me, ‘Kill your friend—now. If you do not, we will shoot him in the head and then shoot you in the head.’”

Taken aback, I said, “Whoa, fuck. Are you serious?” He answered, “Dead serious. I was in shock at the moment. I couldn’t figure out what to do next, but by the grace of God a U.S. Army convoy started heading to the checkpoint. I thought for sure I was saved. Of course, the stupid Army guys just kept on driving and didn’t notice that a militia checkpoint was underway and we were about to die. My heart sank again.”