Jane Cook - Stories of Faith and Courage from the War in Iraq and Afghanistan

So we brought him into our compound and put him on oxygen, and I administered several doses of nitroglycerin, started an IV, and gave him morphine and other appropriate drugs based on his changing condition. And we packaged him for flight, and called in an American Dust-off MEDEVAC Crew. I flew with him to the closest Combat Surgical Hospital.

For twenty-four hours he received the same high level of medical care that any American soldier would have received. Eventually, the hospital staff turned him over to an Iraqi ambulance when he was stable, and he was given American medications to take home. Although it was completely his fault and our guards did exactly the right thing, an American Civil Affairs officer is tracking the cab driver to help him process his claim to get his taxi cab repaired or replaced.

One week later, he returned for his cab, and he made it very clear that he doesn’t hate us either.

Father, let me hate what you hate and love what you love. Give my heart your compassion and my soul your peace.

‘Do not plot evil against your neighbor, and do not love to swear falsely. I hate all this,’ declares the Lord.’” (Zechariah 8:17)

Iraq is an agrarian country where you find many farmers and shepherds. Most shepherds are nomads and live like the Bedouins who still roam between all Arab countries. Some own land and stay in one place. It is important for our own safety and theirs that we get to know all of our neighbors.

A few days ago, the son of a local shepherd came to our front gate and reported that the dogs had returned home but not the father. Subsequently they found some of the sheep outside a nearby abandoned Ammunition Supply Point (ASP). The ASP was not secure and is full of live unexploded ordinance (UXO).

Fearing the worst, the son asked us to help find his father.

Our officer in charge of security carefully considered the risk and asked our input, and we decided to form a search party to find him in the ASP. We found the body of the shepherd directly adjacent to a small crater, which was obviously caused by the detonation of a relatively small UXO.

We used a technique to roll him onto his back from a remote location in case the body was booby-trapped with an IED (improvised explosive device). On close examination we determined that in addition to entering a dangerous restricted area, the shepherd had obviously been tampering with the UXO, which led to his own demise.

There were no morbid jokes. If we were callous and uncivilized, we could have left the body for the dogs and wolves. No one would know. If we were barbarians with hatred in our hearts we could have done things barbarians do to bodies, which perpetuates more hatred.

Because we are professionals, we carefully documented and retained his personal possessions for his family, and we contained his remains in a coroners pouch; and we placed that in an American body bag.

Because we don’t have hatred in our hearts, we took our translator out to the family to notify them of the death and to provide grief support. They specifically requested to see the remains of their loved one. So we prepared them for what they would see and then we brought them in and respectfully showed them. Then we presented the intact right hand of the shepherd for them to touch and caress. We waited with them while they prayed Muslim prayers (even as some of us were praying silent Christian ones). Finally, the U.S. Army expedited the arrival of the local Iraqi Police authorities so that they could bury the remains before sunset, which is their tribal custom.

You know my heart God, and I know what you want of my heart. Teach me to be broken and contrite. Prevent hatred from entering the space I reserve for you.

“The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.” (Psalm 51:17)

On March 31, 2004, the same day that the four Blackwater operators were murdered in Fallujah and their bodies were desecrated, I was activated to patrol with a Quick Response Force (QRF). We were summoned to the same ASP where we found the body of the shepherd except this time we had to go much farther in where the UXO was so thick it was like a carpet.

In past weeks in the same area we encountered handfuls of looters who either scrap for metal or ordinance, which they sell. When they sell intact ordinance it is used for only one purpose the base charge for the IEDs (improvised explosive devices), which blow someone up everyday from here to Israel. In each of the previous instances we searched and detained the individuals and turned them over to the US Army.

On this day there were fifteen looters found, and then there were twenty, and then twenty more, and soon there were more than one hundred. We started with only eight of us “contractor” operators and three regular Army Infantry soldiers. Two of the Army soldiers found themselves isolated with over fifty looters. They asked for our immediate assistance, so we split off two three-man teams and patrolled in on foot.

From a distance across all the UXO at least two of the looters shot at us with AK-47s, which were extinguished by immediate suppressive fire. Eventually, my team converged on the two soldiers in the middle of the ASP along with various other looters we apprehended on the way in. After adding our looters to the mix, we were then managing 148 looters.

Because we were carrying more than 250 rounds of ammunition each, we could have lined them up and shot every one of them. Or we could have forced them to walk back through a minefield or any number of unspeakably worse things that have been done in this country by their previous government. But that is not the American way, and that is not the model of behavior we wish to perpetuate here or take back home with us. So we kept firm order and discipline and carefully searched each of them. And then we placed them along a safe road out of the UXO.

When we were sure that everyone was safe, and we knew exactly where the arriving U.S. Army would meet us, we formed them in disciplined columns and carefully marched them out of the ASP.

We returned that night to our FOB, and we heard the news of the fate of our brothers in Fallujah and saw films of their charred remains hanging on a public bridge and people screaming with jubilation.

Father, help me reflect your love in a place where evil rejoices over death and turmoil.

“But I say, love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you!” (Matthew 5:44)

We were returning from Najaf and headed to the Polish Base three miles north of Al Hillah to refuel. The flight day was half over. We would refuel and then fly north to Baghdad to conduct our last mission before returning to Balad.

We shut down once we landed. There were American MEDEVAC birds stationed there and a couple of large Polish helicopters. To refuel at most bases we would keep the engines running, here we had to shut all the way down. It was a needed break.

We walked up the hill to the left, past living quarters to the main road through the base. And there before us were the reproduction of the Ishtar Gates. They were tall and blue. This was the focus for the Polish division’s drive from the south. While the rest went for lunch in the dining facility, I followed one of the pilots through the gates and into the courtyard beyond. We met an old archaeologist that offered to show us around.