Iraq veteran shares experiences

Iraq veteran shares experiences

http://thecornellian.com/archives/viewarticle.php?viewID=918

[April 2008]
by George Ellerbach, Staff Writer

Local Iraq veteran Joshua Casteel, of Iowa City, spoke about his
experiences in the military Thurs, April 10. Casteel is currently a
graduate student in playwriting and fiction at the University of
Iowa. He came representing Iraq Veterans Against the War, as part of
the Cornell Democrats' sponsored event, Liberal Awareness Week.

Casteel began by describing the time he spent serving in the military
in Iraq, from June 2004 to January 2005, leaving the military in May
2005 to start his studies at the University of Iowa. He then shared a
letter he had received from Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice. It
was a rejection letter for his application to receive funding from
the Fulbright program to go to Syria and talk to refugees from Iraq
as a part of his studies. The letter stated that he was not eligible
for the funding because of his arrest during the "Occupation Project"
in February 2007. The goal of the project was to occupy the offices
of U.S. Senators and Representatives who have voted against
withdrawal from Iraq. Casteel then read from the piece he wrote and
read at his sentencing hearing. In this, he remarked upon the
importance of civil disobedience. Casteel discussed how he joined the
Army Reserves in high school, then went to West Point Military
Academy, before becoming an interrogator at the Abu Ghraib prison in
Iraq, the site of a controversial torture and abuse scandal. He
argued that the President has ignored the will of Congress to
withdraw troops and has expanded the use of torture, including
induced hypothermia and smashing people's heads. Casteel described
the 1953 recognition by the U.S. Department of Defense of the
Nuremburg Charter, which states that individuals have duties above
national obligations. "A soldier must disobey unlawful orders and
must awake to a higher personal moral duty," Casteel said.

Casteel then read some more of his writing, which was commentary
about Christianity in American politics. Casteel described his
experience at a 1987 Pat Robertson rally. To his family, in the
1980s, being an Evangelical Christian meant to be a member of the
Republican party and that to be otherwise would to be in favor of
infanticide because of the party's stance on abortion. Casteel said,
"Deuteronomy 10:18 says, 'He defends the cause of the fatherless and
the widow, and loves the alien, giving him food and clothing.'"
Casteel said Republicans today are not following that message of love
for the "fatherless, widow and alien." Of today's society, Casteel
said, "There is absolutely nothing Judeo-Christian in our
Judeo-Christian society," and "Jesus is the least influential in
society because no one wants to do what he said." Religion and
political power have gone through change, becoming more decentralized
and economic. Casteel said that people in this country must be
converted to a belief in separation of church and state. He also said
that our secular age must move beyond economics and the "marketplace."

He went on to more directly describe his time in Iraq. Casteel said
that, based on what he had seen from his seven months spent at Abu
Ghraib, he dismisses the idea that "sectarians" have always been
fighting. Casteel said, "Abu Ghraib was the greatest terrorist
training camp on earth because we are treating these prisoners
exactly how Islamic leaders say we do, oppressing and humiliating
them." Casteel also said that there is a disparity of knowledge
between the Pentagon and the rest of the world, describing how there
is not even a database tracking human sources of information.

As an interrogator, Casteel emphasized that there was a disconnect
between his job and human reality; he does his job, but does not have
to actually see the result, that is, the dropping of bombs and death
of Iraqis. Casteel decried the treatment of soldiers with
Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, saying that when the government
narrowed the definition for this condition, countless soldiers were
left to the streets. Before finishing to take questions, Casteel
described the three goals of Iraq Veterans Against the War: complete
and immediate withdrawal from Iraq; complete reparations to Iraqis;
full benefits for all U.S. soldiers, regardless of their status.

In response to a question about the conditions at Abu Ghraib, Casteel
said, "I was only there after the abuse scandal happened, so all the
attention and media was focused on that location. Because of this
attention, all of the dark acts went elsewhere." When asked to
comment on General Petraeus' report on Iraq, Casteel said, "It was a
dog and pony show and watching the presidential candidates talk about
this issue was disheartening." Casteel said, "The candidates have
little spine and interest in real investigations about Iraq. However,
of the three candidates, I would most likely support Obama, but I'm
disappointed that Obama refuses to rule out the use of nuclear weapons."

Casteel also criticized the media framing of the violence in Iraq and
said that we do not have enough knowledge about their culture. For
example, he had to do all of his cultural research about Iraq on his
own; that was not provided by the military. In response to a question
regarding the consequences of withdrawal from Iraq, Casteel said,
"Iraq is not our country, but their country and we need to use
diplomatic relations with other countries, such as Iran and Syria."
Casteel went further in identifying the problems in our country,
saying that America'a freedom means the free market and that the
presidency is bought. He told the audience to start a non-profit, to
do whatever is necessary to make change happen and to not wait for
the politicians in Washington to act. Casteel closed recommending the
book, "The Power of the Powerless" by Vaclav Havel, for those
interested in reading more about what Casteel felt should be the
philosophy of government.

.

Iraq war veterans create art to protest

The power in their pain

http://www.boston.com/ae/theater_arts/articles/2008/04/22/the_power_in_their_pain/

Iraq war veterans create art to protest

By Nan Levinson
Globe Correspondent / April 22, 2008

"Hi ho, rock 'n' roll, grab your weapon, get ready to roll," sings
Drew Cameron, a 26-year-old artist and Iraq veteran, as he loosens
the tie on his Army dress uniform.

" 'Cause you will be going to war," he continues in a steady tenor,
pulling dog tags from under his shirt.

"So early, too early, too early in the morning." He jerks the chain
from his neck, holds the tags at arm's length, and drops them to the
floor. They clink as he walks off stage.

"Cadence," Cameron's brief performance, follows "I am who survived
forgive me," a bruising spoken-word piece delivered by Aaron Hughes,
26, another artist-activist-veteran, at the Green Door Studio in
Burlington, Vt.

Cameron and Hughes, members of the antiwar organization Iraq Veterans
Against the War, are among a small but growing number of American
vets who are using their experiences in Iraq to explore the
interrelation of art and political resistance. Their performances
last April, captured in a video by Justin Francese, are on view in
"Experiencing the War in Iraq," a multimedia exhibit of artwork from
both military and civilian perspectives that will be at the Narrows
Center for the Arts in Fall River through May 3.

While soldiers have long written about - and against - war, these
young men have found their own approach. Vivid, unsettling, and
YouTube-anointed, their work is also mostly unpolemical, a surprise,
given the charged subject matter.

Hughes and Cameron are documenting their transition from soldiers to
resisters. Their intent, they say, is to reimagine the myths, images,
and assumptions that brought them and their cohorts to this point;
their method is to pose questions, not supply ready-made answers.

"I'm using creative processes to break down the walls that allow us
to dehumanize one another," says Hughes.

Papermaking as catharsis
One of Cameron's projects, "Combat Paper," literally involves
breaking down material used in wartime.

Cameron learned papermaking from his father when he was a teenager in
Iowa and returned to it a few years ago after he moved to Vermont and
took a workshop with Drew Matott, a performance artist and papermaker
at the Green Door Studio. In the years between, Cameron joined the
Army, spent eight months with the 75th artillery in Iraq (where he
made sergeant), returned to the States, enlisted in the National
Guard, and enrolled at the University of Vermont to study forestry.
Meanwhile, his belief in the rightness of the military's mission in
Iraq turned sour, while the appeal of papermaking soared.

"I obsessively made blank paper. It was cathartic," Cameron says by
phone from Burlington, where he now lives.

One day, Cameron put on his Army uniform for the first time since he
left the military and began to cut it off his body. "My heart started
beating fast," he reports. "It felt both wrong and liberating. I
started ripping it off. The purpose was to make a complete transformation."

A friend took photographs, which Cameron and Matott, his
collaborator, later used for a series of prints. One print is in the
exhibit at the Narrows Center; a portfolio of six can be found in the
collection of the Boston Athenaeum.

Somewhere along the way, it occurred to Cameron and Matott to turn
the uniform into paper, so on Veterans Day last year, Cameron
gathered seven young veterans at St. Lawrence University in Canton,
N.Y., where they cut a uniform (donated by a Marine who had worn it
in Iraq) into small pieces, cooked it, beat it into pulp, and formed
it into sheets of artist-quality paper.

Since then, there have been nine Combat Paper workshops around the
country for veterans of all wars. And the result, in addition to
YouTube videos of the workshops, are piles of paper - some creamy,
some speckled, some used for printmaking, others for books or
scrapbooks, and all meant to honor the men and women fighting a war
these veterans no longer believe in.

Turning a discarded battle uniform into pristine sheets of paper is a
kind of reclamation, Cameron says. "It's a chance for individuals to
remake their relationship with their stories, their history, their
experiences," he explains. "For me it definitely has been an
empowering and healing experience, but it also is very much my method
of sharing my sentiment as a veteran that's against the war."

Reality vs. spectacle
Hughes, now a graduate student at Northeastern University, creates
drawings, paintings, and simple but arresting events that he stages
in public places and categorizes as "spectacle." All relate to what
he did and saw in Iraq. "I qualify everything in the States as a
spectacle and everything in Iraq as real," he says by phone from Chicago.

In the fall of 2006, two years after he returned home, Hughes walked
to the middle of a busy intersection in Champaign, Ill., to prop up a
signboard that read: "I am an Iraq War Veteran. I am guilty. I am
alone. I am drawing for peace." Moving crablike over the road, he
chalked a picture of a bird perched on barbed wire, while pedestrians
and vehicles were forced to navigate around him.

In a video, viewable on his website, aarhughes.org, people walk past,
giving at most a glance over their shoulders, as if unsure what - or
whether - they should be noticing. That seems right to Hughes, who
says his goal is to jar people out of the everyday. The typical tools
of activism, such as antiwar marches, are predictable efforts that
fit neatly into a category in our minds labeled "protest," he says:
We know what to make of them, so they're easy to dismiss. He is after
something more surprising, something that creates a kind of mental
itch. "That's exactly what I'd like people to do," he says. "Simply
stop - for a moment of thought, of reflection."

Tall and rangy, his face a map of sincerity, Hughes joined the
Illinois National Guard out of high school in 2000 and rose to the
rank of sergeant. He could not have imagined when he enlisted that he
would spend more than a year hauling supplies all over Iraq. "At
first it seemed like liberation, then occupation," he reports. "I'm
generalizing, but I think most people don't go there to kill people,
but that ends up being what you do."

As with Cameron, Hughes's rejection of the US intervention in Iraq
and his role in it was a gradual and painful process. "I went to
college set to be a designer. I wanted to design the coolest stuff
and make lots of money," he says. "Then I got deployed and I lived
with my sleeping bag and rucksack and a couple of books." Now
studying art theory and practice, he continues to grapple with his actions.

"Maybe I can find ways to . . . forgive myself," he says, his voice
faltering for the first time.

Last summer, Hughes did a monthlong project in New York City, in
which he made drawings linking the geometric designs that appear in
Manhattan's pavement and have roots in ancient Babylon with the
destruction of contemporary Babylon - that is, Iraq. Alongside, he
chalked the message, "Beware of poetic terrorism. It may make you
think." The project was designed to be temporary, but photographs can
be seen at drawingforpeace.org/public. Hughes and Cameron's work also
appears in "Warrior Writers: Re-Making Sense," a collection of
writing and art by members of Iraq Veterans Against the War.

Like much of Hughes's work, "Poetic Terrorism" required a fair amount
of explication, which the artist willingly supplies. "We're
disconnected not only from the war; we're disconnected from each
other," he says. "We've built up all these cultural barriers and
somehow we've got to poke through them. That's what I'm trying to do."
--

"Experiencing the War in Iraq" is at the Narrows Center for the Arts,
16 Anawam St., Fall River, through May 3. 508-324-1926, ncfta.org

Drew Cameron's "Combat Paper" work is at Boston Athenaeum, viewable
by appointment (617-227-0270) and at the Green Door Studio, 18 Howard
St., Burlington, Vt., greendoorstudio.net.

.

Military unfazed at AWOL increase

Military unfazed at AWOL increase

http://www.palmbeachpost.com/localnews/content/local_news/epaper/2008/04/20/s1c_awol_0420.html

By RHONDA SWAN
Palm Beach Post Staff Writer
Sunday, April 20, 2008

Uncle Sam might have wanted Kristen Westerberg and Alton Keith Lee,
but apparently they had second thoughts about him.

Last month, police arrested Westerberg, a 24-year-old Wellington
mother, in Royal Palm Beach for deserting the Army. A few weeks
later, police picked up Lee, 25, in Boca Raton for leaving the
Marines without authorization.

Though the number of AWOL military personnel has steadily increased
since the invasion of Iraq in 2003, officials say the war has had
little impact.

Others say the stop-loss policy, which retains troops beyond their
terms of service, often sending them back into combat, is responsible
for more military personnel calling it quits.

The policy, often referred to as the "backdoor draft," is the subject
of the recently released movie Stop-Loss by director Kimberly Peirce,
who grew up in South Florida.

In 2007, nearly 1,200 Marines were accused of deserting as of
September. In 2003, there were 877. The Army had 4,698 deserters in
2007, up from 2,610 in 2003.

"It's very apparent that the war in Iraq and the stop-loss program
has increased the number of deserters and AWOL soldiers," said
Gregory Rinckey, a lawyer who works with an increasing caseload of
clients trying to exit the military.

The deployments are disrupting troops' lives, said Rinckey, who
served as an Army lawyer for six years before opening a private
practice in Albany, N.Y.

Army spokeswoman Lt. Col. Anne Edgecomb said the number of deserters
represents less than 1 percent of the Army's force and it is not a
"huge concern" for leaders.

And, she said, many soldiers leave before they see combat.

"They get to basic training and it's not what they thought it was
going to be or they decide they're not cut out for it," she said.
"They just don't take the right approach to try to get out of the Army."

Westerberg joined the Army in October 2005. Her family said she was
promised she would never see war duty, and she deserted while in
training in Virginia after being told she might be sent to Iraq. She
has been considered AWOL since June 2006.

Army officials said she went to Fort Knox, Ky., for processing and
has since left on what is called "excess leave." She is expected to
get an administrative discharge.

Disciplinary action for AWOL soldiers is done on a case-by-case basis
and is left to the commander in charge, Edgecomb said. The Army does
not discharge all deserters, she said. Some leave for personal
reasons and, once they resolve them, decide to stay. Their punishment
may be a loss in rank and pay.

The same is true for Marines, spokesman Maj. Jay Delarosa said.

Delarosa said he could not provide details about the status of Lee,
who joined the Marines in 2004 and deserted in January.

The Boynton Beach man saw seven months of combat in Iraq in 2005 and
six months in 2006 and 2007. He earned the Combat Action Ribbon, two
Sea Service Deployment Ribbons and the Iraq Campaign Medal.

.

Vets speak out on war

Vets speak out on war

http://media.www.dailyiowan.com/media/storage/paper599/news/2008/04/21/Metro/Vets-Speak.Out.On.War-3337684.shtml

Clara Hogan - The Daily Iowan
Issue date: 4/21/08

When America invaded Iraq, Andrew Huff believed President Bush when
he said it was for a reason. Five years, a gunshot wound, and two
friends' deaths later, he's changed his mind.

The 25-year-old from Minneapolis spent more than a year living out of
a tent, working on Iraq's streets for over 14 hours a day, sleeping
only when he was lucky. For 13 months, he watched the war-torn
country, and he has now decided to speak out against U.S. involvement.

Huff - who served in Iraq from 2004 to 2005 - was one of the 150
people to march down Iowa City's streets Sunday. The rally was a part
of the Campus Antiwar Network's regional conference, aiming to
strengthen the movement against the Iraq war, said David Goodner, the
head of the UI Antiwar Committee.

Students from Cincinnati, Madison, Wis., Chicago, Milwaukee,
Champagne-Urbana, Ill., and Iowa City spent the weekend attending
activities on campus. On Sunday, the group walked along downtown
streets, banging on drums, chanting messages, and turning heads.

At one point, they took up both lanes in the middle of Gilbert Street.

Huff served at Camp Ashraf in a town situated north of Baghdad. His
normal days consisted of patrolling streets, raiding buildings, and
running ambushes. Iraqi citizens were often resistant.

"They were nice to your face," he said. "But at night, they'd plant
bombs in the road, hoping to see you dead."

Huff was awarded one day off per month, though he usually spent that
time helping another unit. He is a new member of Iraq Veterans
Against the War, and though he is happy with the movement, he is
frustrated by society's disconnect as a whole.

"While this chaos is happening with our money and our citizens'
lives, people are just going about their business," he said. "People
need to wake up."

Max Wallin of White Bear, Minn. - a 22-year-old who served in Iraq in
2006 and 2007 - has followed the group to several campus events this
year. He was against the war from the start, but because he was
stationed at a reserve in his town when the United States invaded, he
had no choice but to go.

"The soldiers over there are doing the best they can, and they should
be commended," he said. "But the reality is, we aren't helping."

Most at the rally were not Iraq veterans but rather, supporters of
the antiwar movement.

One of those people was Hans Barbe, 23, of Detroit, who said he
thought the UI campus was more disconnected than others he had
traveled to during the conference.

All said that there is no obvious solution to helping the Iraqis, but
America should help itself first.

"We can't police them forever," Huff said.
--

E-mail DI reporter Clara Hogan at: clara-hogan@uiowa.edu

.

Army: Desertion up 80 percent since start of Iraq War

AWOL soldier returned to post

http://www.theolympian.com/localnewsfeed/story/421728.html

Army: Desertion up 80 percent since start of Iraq War

Christian Hill
The Olympian

A Fort Lewis soldier who reportedly deserted his unit in July
returned to the Army post this week following his arrest at a skating
rink in his hometown in Louisiana.

Pfc. Steven J. Arceneaux, 28, is back on duty with his unit as his
chain of command decides whether to punish him. Possible sanctions
include loss of pay, a demotion, a dishonorable discharge or jail time.

His arrest comes as the number of active-duty soldiers who have
deserted the Army has increased 80 percent since the start of the
Iraq War five years ago, according to the Army. The figure represents
less than 1 percent of its active-duty force.

Immediately following his arrest, Arceneaux told a Louisiana
television reporter that he had his reasons for leaving but could not
discuss them.

"There are things that happened that no one really knows about, but
I'm just going to leave it at that," he said, according to the report
posted on the Web site of KTBS-TV in Shreveport, La.

Arceneaux was a noted speed skater and a former Shreveport radio disc
jockey known as "Scuba Steve," according to news reports.

He enlisted in the Army on July 5, 2005, in Shreveport and arrived at
Fort Lewis a year later after completing training at Fort Benning,
Ga., according to the Army. He was an infantryman trained to fire
mortars and other large ordnance.

Arceneaux was assigned to an infantry battalion of the 4th Brigade,
2nd Infantry Division (Stryker Brigade Combat Team). Shortly before
the brigade deployed for a 15-month tour in Iraq, however, Arceneaux
was transferred to the brigade's rear detachment, according to the
Army. The reasons for the transfer are unclear. Family members
couldn't be reached for comment.

He was reported absent without leave on July 10, 2007, and the Army
cut off his pay and issued a warrant for his arrest the following
month, according to the Army.

An anonymous tip led to Arceneaux's arrest at the skating rink in
Bossier City, La., on April 5.

Desertion is punishable under the Uniform Code of Military Justice.

"They (commanders) have broad authority to take a range of actions,
or no action at all, but it really depends on the circumstances,"
Fort Lewis spokeswoman Catherine Caruso said.

The number of active-duty soldiers who has deserted their units
increased from 2,610 in 2003 to 4,698 in 2007, Army statistics show.
That's a tiny fraction of the half-million soldiers serving in the
Army and well below the number of deserters during the Vietnam War
when the draft was in effect. In 1971, for instance, the Army
reported 33,094 deserters.

At Fort Lewis, there are 239 open cases of soldiers who have
abandoned their units, Caruso said. The tally consists of soldiers
assigned to Fort Lewis and soldiers from the Northwest region who
left their units while attending basic or advanced training. Of those
cases, 220 have been absent for more than 90 days, she said.

Thirteen Fort Lewis soldiers who abandoned their units have returned
to military control since Jan. 1, she added.

The Army post has deployed more than 30,000 soldiers since the United
States invaded Afghanistan in October 2001.

In the news report, Arceneaux said he did have regrets. But asked if
he would do it over again, Arceneaux simply replied, "Yes."
--

Christian Hill covers Lacey and the military for The Olympian. He can
be reached at 360-754-5427 or at chill@theolympian.com.

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Deserters seek residency in Canada

Deserters seek residency in Canada

http://www.buffalonews.com/cityregion/story/327495.html

By Lou Michel NEWS STAFF REPORTER
Updated: 04/20/08

Patrick Hart once vowed to protect his country with his life.

Now he is in another country, pledging allegiance to that nation and
waiting to learn whether he will be allowed to stay.

Hart is among 200 U.S. military deserters in Canada, and they should
know in a few weeks if they can begin the process of seeking
permanent residency there.

"This is home for me now," said Hart, 34, a Buffalo native who lives
in the Toronto area with his wife and their young son. "I love
Canada. A lot of us have been here a few years and planted roots."

The Canadian House of Commons is expected to vote soon on a
resolution that would allow him and the other deserters to seek
residency there. It's considered a last resort ­ a political solution
­ because the Canadian courts have determined they lack the
jurisdiction to rule on deserters' claims that the war in Iraq is
illegal and makes them eligible for asylum as refugees.

Hart says he went AWOL because the Iraq War was based on lies and
that no weapons of mass destruction were ever found.

"I understand that I volunteered for this and part of my oath was to
defend the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic.
But what do you do if your enemy is domestic in the Bush regime?"
said Hart, who grew up in Riverside.

Not-so-warm welcome

And while he and the others want to stay in Canada, the official
stance from the Canadian government's Department of Citizenship and
Immigration is not all that welcoming.

"A separate immigration program for this group of applicants is not
necessary nor warranted. Our immigration and refugee system is both
generous and fair, and we encourage the use of existing channels by
all those who wish to come to Canada," said Karen Shadd, a department
spokeswoman.

She added that the country's Immigration and Refugee Board has
determined that the deserters have not proven they are in need of
Canada's protection.

"The board has to be satisfied that the claimant has a well-founded
fear of persecution or that he or she, if removed, would be subjected
to a danger of torture or risk to life or of cruel and unusual
treatment and punishment," Shadd said.

Despite that official stance, the War Resisters Support Campaign in
Toronto believes there is a good chance that parliament will pass the
resolution, which is expected to be voted on at the end of the month
or in early May.

"I think that Prime Minister Stephen Harper's Conservative government
realizes that most Canadians support U.S. soldiers who refuse to
fight in Iraq. I may be dreaming in color, but they have nothing to
gain by deporting U.S. war resisters," said Michelle Robidoux, a
campaign spokeswoman.

Veterans unhappy

Jeffry A. House, a Toronto lawyer representing about 35 Americans
seeking residency, explained that Harper's administration will be in
an awkward situation if the resolution passes and is ignored by the
prime minister.

"If the House of Commons passes this resolution, it will be extremely
important. The idea is the government still controls policy. But
historically, if a House of Commons majority says we think this
should be done, it will be extremely contrary to tradition for the
Conservative administration to ignore the majority," said House, a
conscientious objector who left Milwaukee and went to Canada during
the Vietnam War.

House believes there are enough political blocs in the House of
Commons to form a majority in support of the resolution.

But war veterans in Canada and on this side of the border are not
pleased with the Americans seeking residency.

"It's our belief that those who have deserted their countries' forces
at any time have broken the laws of their country and should be
prosecuted as such," said Bob Butt, spokesman for the Royal Canadian
Legion, the biggest veterans' organization in Canada.

William "Doc" Schmitz, editor of the VFW's newspaper in New York
State, could not agree more.

"I think that they should throw the deserters back and let them pay
the penalty for deserting the armed forces. When their penalty is
served, then they can choose to either stay in the United States or
anywhere in the world. Basically, you do the crime, you do the time,"
Schmitz said.

The penalties for desertion can include a dishonorable discharge,
loss of pay and benefits, confinement of up to five years, and, if
during time of war, the death penalty.

Schmitz says the deserters knew the deal when they voluntarily enlisted.

"Why did they join the armed services, to pick the conflict?
Basically, the armed services is a dictatorship," he said. "Your
elected officials are the bosses, and you do whatever they tell you
what to do."

Hart, who served a year in Kuwait in 2003-04 during his nine years in
the Army, said the volunteer military in the United States amounts to
a draft for poor people.

And that's what he tells Canadians who oppose him and other deserters
when they are out seeking support among that country's citizens.

"They say it's not like it was during Vietnam because there is no
draft now, and I tell them what they fail to understand is that it's
a poor man's draft. Basically if you want to get money for college,
help your mom and dad or even yourself to get out of the ghetto, the
Army makes it very easy to join," Hart said of the economic sign-up
incentives that prompted him to enlist and twice re-enlist.

He also disputes the perception that members of the military are
gung-ho warriors.

"Everyone says that most of the American soldiers are patriots.
That's the picture that is painted and that they want to be over
there in Iraq doing this. But if you talk to any soldier that is
deployed over there or who has come back, you'll find that they
disagree and that it is all hogwash," Hart said.

American troops, he added, are in a no-win situation.

"The Iraqi people don't want us there. It's a hostile situation, a
powder keg, and here we are stuck in the middle of it. We overthrew
this government that had at least some kind of semblance of control.
But because it wasn't in America's best interest to keep Saddam
[Hussein] in power, we had to overthrow him," Hart said.

Strong impression

Since he deserted, Hart says he also has come to the conclusion that
there are parallels between President Bush and Saddam.

"Look at how many American soldiers have been exposed to depleted
uranium because of Bush. Saddam used chemicals on his own people. He
committed mass genocide on the Kurds. What our troops are doing,
killing Iraqi people, wouldn't that be considered genocide as well?"
Hart said.

House, the attorney who like other U.S. conscientious objectors
eventually received amnesty for refusing to fight in Vietnam, says
that this newest wave of resisters has made a strong impression on him.

"When I interview these guys in my office, I find them to be
extremely decent human beings. They're not in any way shirking hard
work and danger. But they've been put in such extreme situations that
they reach a point and they turn off and say 'I can't be associated
with this.' "

"They'll tell me things like 'have you ever seen a human being
melted?' and then they find out that it was an uninvolved civilian
who was just in the wrong place," House said.

Of Hart, the lawyer said, "He's clearly authentically concerned about
what he learned of U.S. policy in Iraq. I think he properly decided
that he didn't want to be associated with it."
--

lmichel@buffnews.com

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War veterans speak out against war

War veterans speak out against war

http://media.www.dailyvidette.com/media/storage/paper420/news/2008/04/14/News/War-Veterans.Speak.Out.Against.War-3321345.shtml

Andrew Rosten, Daily Vidette Staff
Issue date: 4/14/08

According to a recent CNN poll, 64 percent of respondents said they
are against the war in Iraq. Jason Wallace, a senior politics and
government major and former Air Force step sergeant stationed in
Kuwait during the Iraq war, can also be considered to be against the
war in Iraq.

"War, as it's done now, isn't for just means," Wallace said. "If we
went to war for moral reasons, we would be in Darfur, but we're not.
Instead, we go to Iraq."

Along with Ben Peters, a freshman biology major and former Marine
stationed in Iraq, Wallace lectured Thursday at Schroeder Hall about
their views about the war in Iraq.

The lecture began with a video titled "Winter Soldier: Iraq and
Afghanistan." The video showed, along with images of casualties and
explosions from the war in Iraq, commentary from former Iraqi
soldiers who are against the war.

"I guess I'm sick of being lied to," Jason Washburn, a former Marine
Corporal, said in the video. "I'm sick of America being lied to."

After the video, Wallace asked the audience to participate in a
moment of silence in honor of U.S. soldiers who died and are serving in Iraq.

"These are my brothers and my sisters," Wallace said. "These are
people I support. I want to make it very clear that what we are
trying to do is end the occupation in Iraq, and we want to see our
troops home and we want to see them home now."

Wallace said the Iraq Veterans Against the War, an organization for
which he started the Central Illinois chapter, has three goals,
including an immediate withdrawal of all occupying forces from Iraq.

"That's not just our military," Wallace said. "That also includes the
contractors and mercenary groups like Halliburton because we want to
address the other issues with the occupation, and that's the
corporate pillaging that's going on over there."

"Responsible withdrawal is a meaningless phrase," Peters said.
"Responsible withdrawal is a way of cheating, saying we have to do it
responsibly."

The second goal Wallace discussed was an end to corporate pillaging
in Iraq and the giving of reparations to the Iraqi people.

"One of the quotes in the video was, 'We broke it, we bought it,'"
Wallace said. "It's true that we broke it, but we need to get out of
there and give the Iraqi people control of their government and their land."

The third goal Wallace talked about was better care for veterans,
including mental health.

"We don't recognize our troops as much as we need to," Wallace said.
"What [Iraq Veterans Against the War] is hoping to do is to build a
community of veterans to take care of each other. We realize that the
government is not going to do it, but we can do it for ourselves."

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War-torn vets speak out

VOICING DISSENT

War-torn vets speak out

http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/metropolitan/5710617.html

Haunted by their wartime experiences, some Iraq veterans are are protesting

By CLAUDIA FELDMAN
April 18, 2008

Hart Viges walks the streets of Austin in a tunic and carries a sign
that reads, "Jesus Against War." It's one of many ways, he says, that
he must atone for his actions as an American soldier in Iraq.

Army Sgt. Ronn Cantu says lingering memories of killing a civilian in
Iraq led him to start a chapter of Iraq Veterans Against the War at
his home ­ Fort Hood.

And in Houston, Chris Hauff, an Iraq War vet who returned from combat
two years ago, wrestles with the feeling that his best friend died in
a misguided war.

"The idea that American soldiers are there to spread democracy and
liberate the people is all smoke and mirrors," Hauff says.

After five years and more than 4,000 American deaths, hundreds of
anti-war Iraq veterans and even some active-duty soldiers are
speaking out in protest. Though they make up a relatively small
percentage of all the soldiers who have served, certainly they speak
from experience. They've had their boots on the ground.

Nationally, more than 1,000 have joined Iraq Veterans Against the
War, which is calling for an immediate troop pullout. At a recent
IVAW conference in suburban Washington, D.C., 60 vets addressed about
400 peers. Collectively, they described American soldiers unraveling
under pressure ­ devolving from fighting for freedom and defending
innocents to saving their own lives, protecting their friends and
getting revenge.

Viges, tall and reed-slim, spoke as if his entry to heaven were on the line.

"I joined the Army right after September 11th," he began. He ended
with, "I don't know how many innocents I've helped kill. ...

"I have blood on my hands."

His story, common among the speakers, began with good intentions and
patriotic zeal. Then he realized he couldn't tell friend from enemy,
and as he dodged mortar fire and roadside bombs, he feared each new
day was going to be his last.

In that atmosphere, Viges and other soldiers assigned to the 82nd
Airborne Division aimed countless mortar rounds at the town of As
Samawah, southeast of Baghdad. They were trying to root out
insurgents, but to this day, Viges doesn't know whom or what they hit.

"This wasn't army to army," Viges said. "People live in towns."

The panelists' speeches were vetted ahead of time by two groups of
veterans who scoured news accounts, researched documents, videos and
photographs where available, and interviewed others who were present
at the time.

The testimonials were sobering. They included heart-stopping details.
But the vets kept talking. Clearly, it was information they felt
compelled to share.

Jason Washburn's testimony is preserved on the Internet. A Marine
veteran from Philadelphia, he explained how the rules of engagement
kept changing until it seemed there were no rules at all.

"If the town or the city that we were approaching was a known threat,
if the unit that went through the area before we did took a high
number of casualties, we were allowed to shoot whatever we wanted.

"I remember one woman was walking by, and she was carrying a huge
bag, and she looked like she was heading toward us. So we lit her up
with the Mark 19, which is an automatic grenade launcher. And when
the dust settled, we realized that the bag was only full of
groceries. And, I mean, she had been trying to bring us food, and we
blew her to pieces for it."

Jon Michael Turner, a Marine veteran from Vermont, described 3 a.m.
house raids in which "problem" Iraqi men were subjected to his "choking hand."

It was tattooed in Arabic with an all-too-American epithet.

Turner recalled the first time he shot an Iraqi civilian. He offered
no context or explanation except, "We were all congratulated after we
had our first kills."

Turner also recalled the blind rage that led him and fellow Marines
to start fights, spray bullets indiscriminately and fire on mosques.
Eighteen men in his unit were killed by the enemy, he said. After
that much bloodshed, the surviving soldiers were damaged mentally, if
not physically.

"I just want to say that I'm sorry for the hate and destruction that
I've inflicted on innocent people," said Turner, who began his speech
by ripping off his service medals. "Until people hear about what is
happening in this war, it will continue."

Lt. Col. Mark Ballesteros, a spokesman for the Department of Defense,
read from a one-paragraph response to the conference:

"(We) always regret the loss of any innocent life in Iraq or anywhere
else. The U.S. military takes enormous precautions to prevent
civilian deaths and injuries. By contrast the enemy in Iraq takes no
such precautions and deliberately targets innocent civilians. When
isolated allegations of misconduct have been reported, commanders
have conducted comprehensive investigations to determine the facts
and held individuals accountable when appropriate."

The vast majority of American soldiers, Ballesteros added, serve
honorably in combat.

The veterans who came to Maryland last month called their conference
Winter Soldier: Iraq and Afghanistan. It was a sequel to a tense 1971
gathering in a Howard Johnson motel in Detroit, where more than 100
Vietnam vets braved frigid winter conditions to speak out against their war.

(Organizers of the original chose the title Winter Soldier
Investigation to evoke Thomas Paine, who wrote in 1776, "These are
the times that try men's souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine
patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of their
country; but he that stands it now, deserves the love and thanks of
man and woman.")

Navy Lt. John Kerry, the future U.S. senator and presidential
candidate, attended that meeting and, a few months later, lambasted
the war before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee.

Proud American soldiers were reduced to acts of senseless
destruction, Kerry told the senators, "not isolated incidents but crimes ... ."

Many Americans ­ still recovering from the news of the My Lai
massacre ­ believed Kerry. But lingering resentment from his
testimony may have cost him the 2004 presidential election.

During his campaign against President Bush, Vietnam vets still
furious with Kerry for somehow staining their service records and
their honor struck back. They claimed he wasn't a war hero, that he
hadn't earned his multiple medals, that in fact, he'd awarded his
medals to himself.

The topic is still red-hot, even today. Pennsylvania veteran Bill
Perry, who campaigned for Kerry and attended both Winter Soldier
meetings, offered his perspective: "Kerry came from a well-educated,
wealthy family, and he could have ducked the whole thing. I respect
the person who served."

The comment was aimed at President Bush, who did not fight in Vietnam
or any war.

The latest Winter Soldier event coincided with national polls showing
two-thirds of Americans disagree with the handling of the war but
consider the economy and their own financial logjams more pressing
than combat halfway around the world.

Viges, the veteran of the 82nd Airborne, struggled to understand that
disconnect.

One of his jobs in Iraq was to stand guard with a .50-caliber machine
gun while his buddies searched houses supposedly inhabited by
insurgents and enemy combatants. At the conference, searches of that
kind were described vividly. Sometimes soldiers kicked in the front
doors. Sometimes they upended refrigerators and ripped stoves out of
walls. Sometimes they turned drawers upside down and broke furniture.

One day Viges was instructed to search a suspicious house, a hut,
really, but he couldn't find pictures of Saddam Hussein, piles of
money, AK-47s or roadside bombs.

"The only thing I found was a little .22 pistol," Viges said, " ...
but we ended up taking the two young men, regardless."

An older woman, probably the mother of the young men, watched and
wailed nearby.

"She was crying in my face, trying to kiss my feet," Viges said.
"And, you know, I can't speak Arabic, but I can speak human. She was
saying, 'Please, why are you taking my sons? They have done nothing wrong.' "

The testimonials went on for 3 1/2 days. They were interrupted once,
when a middle-age man leaped from his seat and ran toward the stage.

"Liars! Liars!" he shouted. "Kerry lied while good men died, and you
guys are betraying good men."

Others among the counter-protesters tried for a more even tone.

Chris Eaton, a former Houstonian now living in Dallas, spoke for them
when he described himself as an average guy doing his best to support
American troops.

"I'm not hateful," he said. "I'm not a warmonger."

He's married and the father of three. For his little girl's seventh
birthday, he welded a butterfly made of old car parts, plate steel and rebar.

But Eaton didn't travel halfway across the country to talk about
butterflies. He wanted to lend his voice to the counter-protesters.
He wanted to remind the anti-war vets that they needed to tell the
absolute and precise truth or risk demoralizing their brothers and
sisters still fighting overseas.

Eaton also wanted to support his friend, retired Army Col. Harry
Riley, who organized the counter-protest and the sponsoring group, Eagles Up.

Riley is a decorated Vietnam vet. He's got a calm, mellifluous voice
­ until he flashes back to 1971.

"No one stood up for me or millions of others smeared by Kerry,"
Riley said. "That first Winter Soldier meeting was total bunk,
denigration and falsehood. We want to ensure this second one meets
our criteria for accuracy."

It is true, Perry said, that a few of the testimonies from '71
contained significant errors and should have been omitted. That's
unfortunate, he said, but hardly surprising given the impromptu
nature of that meeting. The great majority of the vets, Perry said,
spoke the truth.

Did not, said Riley, referring to a government investigation of the
most serious charges made in Detroit. Not one of the soldiers'
testimonies was substantiated.

Perry noted that the investigation was conducted by Army personnel.
In his opinion, the Army's investigation of itself was a joke.

With a wrench, Riley pushed the conversation back into the 21st
century. If atrocities or war crimes are taking place in Iraq or
Afghanistan, he said, service men and women are duty-bound to report
them under oath and through official channels. Failure to do so, he
added, means they are potential criminals themselves and subject to
prosecution.

"Oh, great," retorted Hauff, the Houstonian. Soldiers aren't going to
turn themselves in, and they're not going to report their peers or
their superiors, either, he said.

"Nobody wants to be viewed as a snitch or a narc," Hauff said. And
who, he asked, volunteers for a dock in pay or a loss of rank or a
court-martial or worse?

"You're supposed to do what you're told in the military."

For vets who often feel isolated by their experiences and their
memories, old war buddies are their best, most comfortable friends.

Viges greeted old friends joyously between sessions at the Winter
Soldier conference. Many of them were vets from the Vietnam era.

"They are my fathers," he said.

After struggling with post-traumatic stress disorder, Viges said, he
is somewhat better. He still jumps at the sound of fireworks, but
he's stopped patrolling the perimeter of his house.

With shoulder-length, brown hair and a goatee, Viges looks very much
like a model for velvet Jesus portraits. When he puts on his tunic
and takes his anti-war campaign to the streets, he tells anyone who
will listen, "Love thine enemy" and "Turn the other cheek."

A devout Christian, Viges finally left combat as a conscientious objector.

Cantu, the Fort Hood soldier, was one of several celebrity Texans at
the conference. He says his pro-war sentiments changed 180 degrees
the day he killed a civilian in Iraq. His convoy had been hit by an
improvised explosive device, and he wanted revenge.

Next thing he knew, a car was coming toward them, and despite the
warnings, it didn't stop.

Cantu opened fire. He didn't know until too late the car was filled
with multiple members of an Iraqi family.

"I was literally on the verge of quitting (the military) right then
and there," said Cantu, a third-generation military man.

Instead, he's spoken out against the war, through the protest chapter
he founded and a 60 Minutes interview in 2007.

He occasionally comes to the attention of his superiors, too.

"All I've done is use my First Amendment rights," Cantu said. "I
appreciate the Constitution. You can't really love it until you've
actually been protected by it."

Cantu is scheduled to return to Iraq for his third tour of duty in early 2009.

"I've cheated death so many times," he said, suddenly somber. "I hope
I can do it again."

Hauff, the Houston vet, didn't try to make it to Maryland. He had his
hands full, with his job, his wife and his little girl. Besides, he
didn't want to talk about the ugly side of war.

His best friend was on patrol, subbing for Hauff, when he was killed.

Hauff paused, keeping the many things he thought about that tragedy
to himself. He had his emotions under control, he said, and he's
moved on with his life.

His mother-in-law, sipping coffee and listening to him, cocked her
head as if she didn't quite agree.

That year in Iraq changed him, Sherry Glover said. He doesn't like to
be touched. He can be impatient with the people, even the child he
loves the most. It's almost like he's barricaded himself inside an
invisible fence that has a sign: "Keep out."

When Hauff finished talking, he frowned at his mother-in-law and
walked away. They're sharing the same house, at least until Hauff and
his family can afford to move.

Military families are paying for this war, Glover said darkly. She
has a friend whose son tried to commit suicide between tours of duty.
Army doctors gave him a bunch of prescriptions and deemed him ready to serve.

Glover couldn't go to the conference ­ she wanted to keep an eye on
things at home ­ and made do by listening to the testimony on the
local Pacifica radio station, KPFT-90.1 FM.

She and many other peace activists wondered why only a couple of
outlets in the mainstream media covered the event.

The vets also wondered what all the other newspapers, magazines and
TV stations were afraid of. The truth?

That's not it, said Larry Sabato, director of the University of
Virginia's Center for Politics.

The gathering was tiny, Sabato said, in comparison to protests from
the Vietnam era. Also, activists on both sides of the war have moved
the debate to the presidential campaign.

President Bush has been unequivocal in his support for the war,
Sabato said, and those who share that commitment will vote
Republican. Those who oppose the war will vote for the Democrat.

It's not that Americans don't have an opinion, he said. They're just
waiting for Election Day.
--

claudia.feldman@chron.com

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March of the Dead

March of the Dead

http://www.dissidentvoice.org/2008/04/march-of-the-dead/

by Carol Grier
April 17th, 2008

They were dressed all in black, in the hundreds, marching single
file, with white death masks and the names and ages of war victims on
placards 'round each of their necks. I caught my breath and watched
in anguish­this after having listened to three grueling days of
eyewitness accounts of the Iraq and Afghanistan occupations at The
Winter Soldier Hearings in Washington D.C. last month. Five years on,
and there's no end in sight­another quagmire.

As a child of the 60's and 70's, I am still impacted by multiple
tragedies of the Vietnam War. I know many families who were split
politically and are still not healed. Countless Vietnam vets living
in nests under bushes or in encampments under bridges across the
nation are "survivors" still unable to come to terms with the illegal
and immoral war in which they were used by their government and
thrown away like so much refuse. More Vietnam veterans have died
since the war by their own hand than were actually killed in Vietnam.
And thousands more tragic stories from the Vietnamese too, should
have taught us­but here we are again.

Tens of thousands of Vietnam "draft dodgers" and Americans who
opposed their government came to Canada and have made this country
their home. I now count myself among them. I made Canada my home as a
result of America's latest wars and occupations­those of Iraq and
Afghanistan. I can no longer support a country that imposes its free
market religion on the rest of the planet at gunpoint. Arundhati
Roy's words come to mind "–when the soul of [my] country worships violence."

With this ache in my heart I went to Washington to commemorate the
fifth anniversary of the start of the Iraq war. Though I've been back
from D.C. for some time now, I can't erase the words and images of
soldiers' testimonies from my mind.

The Winter Soldier hearings bore out my pre-war fears. Though not
visibly wounded, these young men and women will carry the mental and
emotional scars of war with them for the remainder of their days.
They spoke in graphic detail–of running over civilians as if they
were bumps in the road with their Humvees, of planting weapons on
dead civilians to make them look like insurgents, and showed photos
and video of the true human cost of war and occupation­oozing brains
and entrails, torture, and the constant drumbeat of racism, sexism
and dehumanization to make it possible to kill the enemy and
annihilate his country. These were not the sanitized images that we
see on the nightly news.

The first Winter Soldier hearings held in 1971, were an attempt by
Vietnam Veterans Against the War to show that the My Lai Massacre was
not just caused by "a few bad apples," but by the immorality of the
war itself. John Kerry, who participated in the first Winter Soldier
Investigation explained prior to his testimony to Congress: "We who
have come here to Washington have come here because we feel we have
to be winter soldiers now. We could come back to this country; we
could be quiet; we could hold our silence; we could not tell what
went on in Vietnam, but we feel because of what threatens this
country, the fact that the crimes threaten it, not reds, and not
redcoats but the crimes which we are committing that threaten it,
that we have to speak out."

Perry O'Brien, an Afghanistan war veteran (a medic), Winter Soldier
organizer, and now Conscientious Objector, suggested in an online
video interview that there is an unofficial "don't ask don't tell"
policy between military personnel and civilians–civilians want to
glorify the warrior, but don't want to hear the gory details of war.
He suggests that the people at home have a willful ignorance that
goes hand in hand with the military telling soldiers that the
civilian psyche can't handle the reality of war and that soldiers
should keep what they do in war to themselves.

Winter Soldiers speaking publicly will allow citizens to understand
the reality and true cost of war. For soldiers, it's a chance to
unburden themselves of what they've done in the name of so called
patriotism, freedom and democracy–and to vent their anger over being
used for naked imperialism.

Upon returning home, it's taken some time to integrate what I saw and
experienced in D.C. The faces of those young vets are seared into my
mind along with the faces of war resisters I've met personally who
have come to Canada to say no to this latest illegal and immoral war.
These young men and women are often met with the opinion that they
should not be allowed to stay in Canada because they are part of
America's new volunteer army and a contract is a contract.

We know that the US government lies. The "all volunteer army" is in
fact, a poverty draft. Testosterone laced recruitment campaigns
featuring F-16s, helicopters and aircraft carriers appeal to youthful
idealism and dreams of adventure while promising job skills, and
being part of something greater than oneself­not to mention large
signing bonuses and college tuition. All this sounds mighty fine to
young men and women without prospects following high school
graduation. This deliberate targeting of the most vulnerable and
destitute in society for use as cannon fodder is despicable and
sickening at best. There is little resistance to war without a
draft­as long as there are willing bodies to go off to the latest
manufactured conflict­to fight for our 'way of life,' to keep us safe
from the bogeyman du jour.

The reality for soldiers returning home is that the war is no longer
a topic of conversation­either in the news, or on the public's mind.
One soldier described his dismay one night in a bar when someone
remarked on his uniform and exclaimed, "You mean we're still over
there?!" And if soldiers are not forced to return to the war zone for
second, third, or even fourth tours of duty, many have to fight a
gargantuan bureaucracy to have their physical and mental wounds
attended to. For many, that deferred college education becomes a low
priority as they try to rebuild their shattered lives and survive
just one more day fighting internal demons or PTSD. Is it any wonder
that there is an epidemic of suicides among veterans­over 120 per week in 2005?

So I return from D.C. with a recommitment to align myself especially
with soldiers who have the courage to speak out against war and
militarism–Americans and Canadians alike. It's they who can end the
scourge of war because they speak with the moral authority of those
who have been there and know war's realities.

War is an ongoing cycle of death, destruction, and horror, and Canada
can do better. She can welcome U.S. War Resisters once again with
open arms. She can reassert her leadership in the world as a
peacemaking and peacekeeping nation, and stop following the criminal
conduct of the U.S. government, and bring her soldiers home.

I urge you to listen to the Winter Soldier testimony at www.ivaw.org

and to support War Resisters at www.resisters.ca.

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An Iraq war vet's unlikely seat in the spotlight

An Iraq war vet's unlikely seat in the spotlight

http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/news/music/la-ca-body20apr20,1,6588341.story

A bullet in Iraq put Tomas Young in a wheelchair. But with a
documentary film and its double-CD music compilation, his story of
resolve and redemption has taken wing.

By Ann Powers, Times Pop Music Critic
April 20, 2008

AUSTIN, TEXAS -- SOLDIER turned antiwar activist Tomas Young has
learned how to handle a standing ovation, but the one he got at
Stubb's Bar-B-Q one Thursday night last month still threw him for a loop.

The South by Southwest festival showcase had just ended for Young's
pet project, the music compilation "Body of War: Songs That Inspired
an Iraq War Veteran." Earlier that afternoon, there had been a packed
screening of the film that inspired that double CD. "Body of War,"
which opens Friday in L.A., documents Young's transformation from a
traumatized vet to determined protester and self-described "political
irritant."

At Stubb's, Tom Morello, Ben Harper, Billy Bragg and other Young
favorites had offered rousing sets of protest music, culminating in a
no-holds-barred rendition of "This Land Is Your Land" that had former
TV talk-show host Phil Donahue, the movie's co-director, moshing in
the pit. Young had sat stage right for the whole show, beaming.

But then the rock stars were gone. Young, who relies on a wheelchair
since being paralyzed by a bullet in Iraq, left his spot at the lip
of the stage and headed for the ramp. Suddenly, the crowd of around
2,000 concertgoers started clapping. Young realized he was the rock star now.

"It was the weirdest feeling," said Young the next day over a late
breakfast of Tex-Mex food. "I'm like, OK . . . I'm just me. All I did
was pick songs and make a movie. And say some things, you know."

Ellen Spiro, who co-directed "Body of War" with Donahue, describes
Young as an emerging historical figure who is coming to the fore of
the antiwar movement in America because of his personal resolve and
charisma. He's impressed artists such as Harper, who later reflected
on the Stubb's experience via e-mail from a vacation spot in Costa Rica.

"It was highly emotional, and an honor to be able to resonate a
unified voice alongside someone as brave as Tomas," wrote Harper,
who'd made Young's night when he gave the soldier a big hug before
playing a short set.

Young draws people to himself. But the sandy-haired Missouri native
is more comfortable thinking of himself as a conduit. "I don't care
about my own Q rating," he said, using the term marketers use to
judge the appeal of a new product, company or celebrity. He'd prefer
to argue ideas than hear fans scream.

Leading the charge

THE "Body of War" film closely depicts Young's indignities and
growing resolve after being wounded, and the music compilation he
created, a two-disc set featuring artists as varied as Public Enemy,
Kimya Dawson and Neil Young, tracks his inner life. But Young's most
vivid role is as the embodiment of a war that, Spiro notes, most
Americans still view as somewhat abstract -- the new Ron Kovic (of
"Born on the Fourth of July" fame), if you will.

The adulation at Stubb's wasn't even the weekend's most startling
moment. Young had spent the afternoon answering audience questions
after the screening at Austin's Paramount Theater. The film intercuts
footage of the 2002 Congressional roll-call approval of the war with
disquietingly intimate footage of Young's daily, bodily struggles.
One question about those efforts elicited an unexpected response.

"Somebody asked how things had changed for me physically, and when I
answered that a lot of the erectile dysfunction issues had gone away,
in the back right quadrant of the theater there was a large scream
from the crowd. Female screams," Young said, his boyish face dimpling
up. "I was not ready for that."

The exchange quickly became a fond joke in the small circle taking
the film on its limited theatrical rollout, which lands April 25 at
the Nu Art. But Spiro, who's joining Young and Donahue on tour, sees
something more serious in Young's moments onstage.

"At the Paramount, when the film ended, Tomas wheeled out alone," she
said in a phone interview after the event. "I realized that this
process changed his life. And it was that powerful act of being there
and someone listening to him that did it."

This is Tomas Young's post-Iraq reality: He's a chick magnet, an
eloquent spokesperson for the movement against war in Iraq, and a new
friend to musicians he admires -- such as Harper and Eddie Vedder,
who contributed two original songs to the "Body of War" soundtrack
and frequently calls Young to talk late into the night. In Austin,
Young spent his days with interviewers and his evenings being feted.

One party situated Young in the fanciest suite in the Driskill Hotel,
enjoying the balcony view over a reveler-filled Sixth Street as
activists and music-biz schmoozers vied for the seat next to his wheelchair.

But fame was never Young's ambition. Before he enlisted, he wanted
"to be one of the people in the middle," quietly living near his
folks in Kansas City, not even making lots of money, just getting by.
Since being wounded, he's gone through a brief marriage and painful
divorce. Sometimes Young has to stop charming his audiences and clasp
water bottles to his torso to regulate his body temperature. He
rarely sleeps more than a few hours straight. His mother, Kathy, is
his most reliable support. In what's becoming the film's
most-talked-about scene, she's seen emptying his catheter.

"When I see him in these places," Spiro said, discussing Young's
Austin appearances, "I can't help thinking about his 30,000 comrades
[soldiers and veterans of Iraq] that nobody is hearing, still."

He picks his battles

EVEN Young's activism is complicated. A former board member of Iraq
Veterans Against the War, he doesn't denounce armed conflict
altogether; his stepfather is a Bush supporter, and his brother
Nathan is serving in Iraq right now. When Tomas signed up days after
9/11, he was eager to go to Afghanistan, and punish those responsible
for taking down the Twin Towers. But he ended up in Iraq, where he
was shot while riding in an unarmored Humvee on his first mission in
Sadr City. In the hospital, he began to question the premise of the
war itself and America's presence in Iraq.

"If I had been injured similarly in Afghanistan, there would be no
'Body of War' film," he said. "I wouldn't be the reason people are
coming to a show at South by Southwest. I would have taken my
government stipend and shut up, and sat back in my house."

This is one of the lines Young has rehearsed, popping up frequently
in his speeches. But the truth behind his stock answers is telling.
In a world teeming with would-be celebrities, Young represents an
uncommon figure: a man thrust into the spotlight against his will,
and adapting to serve something bigger than himself.

"I was never interested in public speaking," he said. "But people
tell me I'm a natural. Maybe I should have developed in interest in
it earlier." He sighed. "Maybe it would have kept me out of the military."

Whatever imperfect decisions put Young in the way of that bullet,
chance put him on his current path. Donahue, a longtime activist, was
visiting soldiers at Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington,
D.C., when he met Young.

Strung out on morphine -- a habit he kicked when he began to realize
that he was becoming a public figure -- Young still made an
impression. He was funny, smart and politically minded. Donahue
decided to help him tell his story; soon afterward, Donahue and his
wife, actress Marlo Thomas, headed to Kansas City to discuss possibilities.

At first, Donahue was uncertain whether Young shared his leftist
leanings. "If he'd wanted to go back to Iraq, that's the film we
would have made," said the 72-year-old media man. "But as Marlo and I
drove up to his house, we saw a 'Draft Republicans' bumper sticker on
his van. Things became clearer then."

Young, Spiro and Donahue have become a close-knit team determined to
take "Body of War" to a wide audience (it's being released in
different cities through summer) -- "the idea is to keep on rolling
out until there's no more war," Spiro said. The task can be grueling.
But the trio's conviction goes beyond the desire for festival prizes
or box-office receipts.

"After people see 'Body of War,' the emotional response is so
strong," said Spiro. "They feel like they know someone. They know
Tomas. They cry when he comes out on stage."

This has to be heady stuff for Young. He's thrilled to have
befriended Vedder -- "Like every other 13-year-old kid, when the
going got tough, I would go into my bedroom and listen to Pearl Jam,"
he said -- and he's not mad about the attention he gets from fans.
But whatever ego trips he occasionally takes, he always comes back to
the heart of his crusade: speaking for unheard veterans.

"If people want to meet me because I'm thrust in the limelight,
hopefully I can turn that enthusiasm on its ear," he said. "To get
them involved, whether on a small scale, like helping out at a
homeless shelter or veteran's shelter, or a large scale, like
actively protesting Congress." He's clearly found his calling. It's
something of a miracle to watch him accept it, especially if you're
at all jaded about the reasons people seek fame. "You play the hand
you're dealt," said Young. He wouldn't want to make more of his
circumstances. But if others do, he's cool with that.

ann.powers@latimes.com

.

Gender in the Ranks

Gender in the Ranks

http://www.truthout.org/docs_2006/040908J.shtml

By Maya Schenwar
t r u t h o u t | Report
Wednesday 09 April 2008

Unlike many of the other panels at Winter Soldier, the one
devoted to gender and sexuality in the military featured no gory
videos. The testimonies included many secondhand accounts, especially
when the subject came around to rape and sexual assault. And though
it was the only panel in which none of the speakers divulged personal
acts of violence, it was one that, at times, betrayed a raw sense of
shame. At one point, a panelist broke from her testimony, biting back
tears, and muttered, "I hate to be the girl." Another panelist, Jeff
Key, later noted the significance of this: Even within the supportive
walls of the peace movement, "this idea that men are beings devoid of
feeling and compassion, and that women are weak and just a ball of
emotion," pervades.

Tellingly, the gender and sexuality event was also the only
panel that took a little struggle to get on the schedule. Panelists
mentioned that, when the idea for a gender panel was first suggested,
some veterans dismissed it, calling the topic irrelevant.

However, as National Guard veteran Margaret Stevens noted,
gender issues pervade every topic discussed at Winter Soldier.

"If you want to talk about rules of engagement, you could talk
about the engagement of Iraqi civilian women," she said. "If you want
to talk about corporate pillaging and military contractors, you could
talk about contracted sexual labor... These issues transcend into the
core of the war itself."

Fifteen percent of US military personnel are women. According to
a 2003 Department of Defense (DOD) study, almost one-third of female
veterans seeking Department of Veterans' Affairs care reported rape
or attempted rape during their period of service. Fourteen percent
reported being gang raped. Thirty-seven percent of those reporting
rape cited more than one incident.

Those numbers may not come as a surprise: They have flashed
across network TV broadcasts and the pages of major newspapers over
the past few months. Yet, they don't tell the whole truth. Panelists
pointed out many military assaults go unreported, and even at Winter
Soldier, very few women found the atmosphere conducive to disclosing
their own experiences of sexual violence.

Disregard and Denial

Panelist Tanya Austin told the story of another woman, a Coast
Guard member who was raped by a shipmate. The incident itself was
horrific enough: The woman's rapist brought her to an isolated pond
and forced her to have sex, ignoring her blatant resistance. But the
military's response to the rape had audience members' mouths gaping.

The woman did not immediately report the rape; she'd reported
past instances of sexual harassment and her superiors had taken no
action in response. Eventually, she gathered the courage to tell her
command what had happened. When he heard she wanted to press charges
against her rapist, he told her to leave his office. Other superiors
later made her promise to drop the issue.

When the woman sought medical treatment for psychiatric problems
associated with the rape, the details came out - at which point she
was restricted from doing any of her regular duties. She was told "a
rape victim cannot do any 'real Coast Guard work.'" The following
months flung her through a series of tribulations, including a threat
from the "work life" staff that if she disclosed her rape to the
media, she'd be handed a dishonorable discharge. In the end, she was
honorably discharged due to "unacceptable conduct" - that is,
speaking up about her assault experience.

Austin pointed to her friend's story as representative of a
general lack of disregard, even scorn, for rape and sexual assault
survivors in the military. More than three-quarters of soldiers
convicted of sex-related crimes are honorably discharged when they
leave the military, according to DOD data. Only about 3 percent of
soldiers accused of rape are court-martialed.

Post-rape examinations, in which a physician gathers and
preserves evidence of the assault, are not covered by insurance in
the military, according to an official memo read by testifier Patty McCann.

Built-In Sexism

Sexism and sexual violence are not simply due to isolated "bad
soldiers" or to evil forces at the DOD, testifiers reiterated
throughout the panel. Gender divisions and hierarchies are built into
the very structure of the military, already one of society's most
blatantly hierarchic institutions.

Former Army National Guard mechanic Jen Hogg, who organized the
panel, pointed to a very basic manifestation of the gender split:
Women are not allowed to serve in the Army infantry.

"A lot of people say it's because women wouldn't physically be
able to do positions like infantry," Hogg told Truthout. "But there
are men who can't do the position of infantry, as well. So, it's not
so much that all women can't do it, or that all men can. There are
definitely all kinds of institutionalized policies that set women
aside, as different, from step one."

Women can never obtain a combat infantry badge, which, according
to Hogg, is a basic military status symbol. Since they can't achieve
the type of distinction available to military men, their sexuality
often becomes their distinction, Hogg noted, pointing to the
form-fitting style of female soldiers' uniforms.

Testifiers described their introduction to the military's
attitude toward gender issues: A "sexual assault awareness training"
workshop that was cursory at best.

"The type of training that goes on is 'check-the-box' training,"
former combat medic Wendy Barranco said. "There's an NCO
[noncommissioned officer] at the front of the room with a PowerPoint
presentation. Slide, slide, slide, slide, slide - we're done."

Hogg compared the military's approach to sexual harassment
training with the briefing on the Rules of Engagement (ROE), which
supposedly regulate soldiers' relations with foreign civilians. The
ROE are relayed as a matter of course, but often not taken seriously.

"Technically, sexual assault is not condoned," Hogg said. "They
don't say, 'Please sexually assault women.' But when it happens and
they don't enforce the rule, it's basically saying, 'You can do this,
because you're not going to be punished.'"

When it comes to sexual orientation, institutionalized
discrimination is even more patent. The "Don't Ask, Don't Tell"
policy offers an ultimatum: secrecy or discharge. Queer panelist Jeff
Key, a former Marine, pointed to a strange disconnect between
military rules and one-on-one human interactions. Many of his fellow
Marines acted as supportive allies, he said, even attending his
wedding back at home.

However, when the Iraq War rolled around, Key decided to call
the military out on its heterosexism, reasoning that the privilege of
fighting an unjust war was not worth his personal sacrifice. After he
heard no weapons of mass destruction had been found in Iraq, he "went
on CNN and came out of the closet to 5 million people and made them
throw me out."

An Everyday Thing

In addition to its tolerance for appalling incidents of rape and
assault, panelists pointed to the military's general habit of
disregard for "small" instances of harassment and discrimination.
Those instances add up.

Panelist Patty McCann told of a male platoon sergeant who took
pictures of the young women in her unit and taped them to doors. When
McCann complained to her higher-ups, she was told the sergeant
"hadn't hurt her," and she shouldn't make a fuss.

"There's always this idea you're going to ruin someone's career
if you talk about this stuff," she said.

Barranco testified about her experience in a hospital in Tikrit,
where she was harassed almost every day by a male doctor who would
catch her alone and intimidate her, pushing up against her. Though he
never took it to the point of assault, Barranco dreaded going to work
each day. Yet, she did not speak up.

"I knew command wasn't going to do anything about it, so there
was no point," she said.

What accounts for the military's lack of oversight and
discipline when it comes to sexual harassment and assault? Hogg
pointed to a basic underlying problem: No centralized reporting
system exists, so oftentimes, women don't even know where to turn if
an incident occurs. Unlike in the civilian world, where, at least in
theory, the police are responsible for following up on sexual crimes,
every division of the military - and sometimes even individual units
- have different ways of treating the issue. In the period of
distress and confusion following a rape or assault, some women find
the process of determining who they should speak to too daunting to take on.

Advocacy From Within

The military complex, with its strict hierarchy and both
implicit and explicit encouragement of secrecy, leaves little room
for gender-related activism. Yet, an increasing number of soldiers
are beginning to speak out, finding ways to offer support for
marginalized service members.

After her discharge, the Coast Guard rape survivor, whose story
was told during the gender panel, developed a web site,
StopMilitaryRape.org, which supplies information on sexual violence
in the military, as well as support for those who have experienced
it. The site also houses the Military Rape Crisis Center, another new
project, which puts survivors in contact with legal, financial and
medical assistance.

Last year, Hogg and several other veterans and active-duty
soldiers founded the Service Women's Action Network (SWAN), with the
goal of providing mentorship and guidance for women in the military
and addressing issues specific to female soldiers and veterans.

"[SWAN is] about looking for peace through healing, looking for
ways for women who are thinking of joining the military, women who
are in the military and women who are out of the military to find
avenues to be able to heal themselves and commune with other women," Hogg said.
--

Maya Schenwar is an assistant editor and reporter for Truthout.

Iraq war vet: We’ve heard enough from the generals and the politicians

Iraq war vet:
We've heard enough from the generals and the politicians

http://www.wsws.org/articles/2008/apr2008/vet-a09.shtml

By Bill Van Auken
9 April 2008

Among the several hundred spectators who joined hundreds of members
of the media and the Democratic and Republican Senators on the Armed
Services and Foreign Relations committees was a fairly small, but
particularly skeptical audience­a group of veterans returned from Iraq.

"I would have rather not heard from General Petraeus at all," said
Geoff Millard, who served with the Army's 42nd Infantry in Tikrit in
2004 and 2005. "I think we are at capacity of hearing from
politicians, pundits and generals."

Millard, who joined the Army in Buffalo, New York and is now with the
Iraq Veterans Against the War, said that it was time that the voices
of the enlisted men and women who have participated in the Iraq war
and occupation were heard.

"I want to start hearing from E-5s and E-4s; I want to start hearing
from boots-on-the-ground soldiers about their experiences," he said.
"I think that every experience in Iraq, no matter what the political
views of that veteran, the stories themselves inherently expose this
war. Take a story of a guy grabbing his buddy out of a burning
Humvee, and that's a story that tells you what this war is really
about. These experiences have been completely left out of the debate."

The former soldier said that if he had been asked to testify he would
have spoken about experiences that opened his own eyes to the real
character of the war.

"I would talk about hearing generals, up to and including Gen. George
Casey, use the word 'haji' to talk about the Iraqis. I would talk
about upper-echelon officers and their racist attitudes towards the
people of Iraq, to whom we are supposed to be bringing 'freedom.'"

Millard said that while he believes the war remains today as bad as
it was when he was there three and a half years ago, the mood of the
soldiers themselves has undergone a change.

"Most soldiers when I was there were against the war, but they
couldn't admit it," he said. "And now, it's like, after doing two or
three tours, those who still support the war are in the minority."

Millard said that he and other veterans hope to soon have the
opportunity to give their own testimony on Capitol Hill, reprising
the "Winter Soldier" hearings that they themselves organized recently
in Maryland in which soldiers and Marines returned from Iraq spoke of
their experiences and the brutality of the war against the Iraqi people.

.

Soldiers of the 'War on Terror' Speak Out

Soldiers of the 'War on Terror' Speak Out

http://www.alternet.org/audits/82556/

By Cynthia Orange and Michael Orange, AlterNet.
April 18, 2008.

If all of America were to hear these voices, the occupation of Iraq
would already be over.
--

We're not bad people; not monsters. We're normal people caught in a
horrible situation."
-Statement from Clifton Hicks, a tank gunner with the Army's 1st
Cavalry Regiment and testifier at "Winter Soldier, Iraq and Afghanistan"

Over four days, we witnessed thirty hours of vetted statements from
seventy two veterans, active duty soldiers, experts, and Iraqis who
had the great courage to go public with their first-hand experiences
as part of "Winter Soldier, Iraq and Afghanistan: Eyewitness Accounts
of the Occupations." A common thread emerged of soldiers who
struggled with a questionable mission as occupiers of a country in
the midst of a civil war, and Iraqi families being torn apart and
terrified, terrified by-not grateful for-the presence of American
soldiers and private mercenaries. The soldiers and veterans
transfixed us with their words and graphic images that exposed the
dark underbelly of the Iraq Occupation that the mainstream media have
chosen to ignore, just as they ignored these groundbreaking hearings.

The national veterans organization, Iraq Vets Against the War (IVAW),
held these hearings near Washington D.C. from March 13 to 16. They
patterned them after the 1971 Winter Soldier hearings held in Detroit
by the Vietnam Veterans Against the War, which are now thought to be
one of the turning points of that conflict. The title for the
hearings comes from Thomas Paine who wrote in 1776, "These are the
times that try men's souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine
patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of [their]
country; but he that stands [by] it now, deserves the love and thanks
of man and woman." Unlike the "summer soldiers" who often deserted
their duties in Paine's time, "winter soldiers" carry on courageously
through the darkness.

We tried to comprehend the enormous scale of the so-called
"collateral damage" in Iraq as speakers cited surveys that estimated
about a million Iraqi civilians have died since the U.S. invasion,
and that over four million Iraqis were forced from their homes. The
speakers told of Iraqis, being without power and water, begging for
food and fuel, and only wanting foreign troops and the 180,000
private contractors and mercenaries to leave so they can begin to
rebuild their devastated country.

The presenters at Winter Soldier went deeper than telling stories
that once again confirm what we all should know: war is hell. They
addressed the anguished question that naturally arises: How do you
explain actions that would be criminal even in a war zone?

The soldiers and veterans explained how trickle-down abuse starts at
the top ranks of the military hierarchy with institutionalized
racism, sexual harassment, and assault on the lower ranks. They
talked about their complete lack of training in Iraqi culture and
language and their conditioning before leaving U.S. soil to think of
Iraqis as "less than," as "Hajis;" a term once reserved for pilgrims
to Mecca, now turned inside out to demean and dehumanize. "Haji" has
become to the Iraq occupation what "Gook" became to the Vietnam and
Korean wars. When people are dehumanized, it becomes easier to kill them.

We could not listen to the four days of accounts and imagine our
country invaded Iraq to export the American dream of freedom and
democracy. Even the ultraconservative former Federal Reserve
chairman, Alan Greenspan, declared that "the prime motive for the war
in Iraq was oil." It didn't take long for the soldiers and vets who
spoke to come to the same conclusion once they experienced the
reality on the ground.

As in all wars, if you haven't experienced it, it's hard to grasp the
white-hot frustration, anger, and vengeful wrath that results when
our soldiers have no reliable way to discern friend from foe and are
under extreme duress at virtually all times in a near-country-wide
combat zone. As the disillusionment over the injustice and the
impossibility of the mission grows, so does the abuse of civilians.
When soldiers, deployed two, three, four, and even five times,
experience more and more casualties in their units-people with whom
they share a bond that can be even stronger than family-their rage
understandably erupts and they need to blame someone for their grief.
Similar circumstances produced similar results in the jungles of Vietnam.

Kristofer Goldsmith was a good soldier, graduating at the top of his
basic training class and receiving a 94.6 percent average in his
Warrior Leadership Course. But after four deployments in Iraq and
almost shooting a six-year-old boy, he said he became a "broken
soldier." He was due to get out of the service when he, like some
80,000 other soldiers, was "stop-lossed" and ordered to redeploy to
Iraq for a fifth time. Plagued by mental anguish the day before he
was to leave, he tried to kill himself with alcohol and prescription
pills. Although finally released, his discharge papers state,
"Misconduct: Serious Offense" because of his suicide attempt. He
showed the audience a picture of himself in uniform as the proud
soldier, then slammed it down on the table saying "This boy is dead."

So many soldiers and veterans spoke of their noble motives for
joining the military-especially after 9/11-but then having to face
the ignoble inhumanity of this occupation that so compromised their
values. Then they returned to a country that anointed them as the
heroes they so wished to be. Is it any wonder they are conflicted and
disillusioned with the contradictions? Is it any wonder that
government statistics report that one in three returning soldiers has
mental problems and that CBS News recently described the suicide rate
among today's soldiers and vets as "epidemic?" As we continue to see
with Vietnam vets, post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a normal
human response to the inhumanity of war.

We listened to Jason Hurd, a medic with ten years of Army service
including tours of duty in Iraq: "But as time went on and the
absurdity of war set in, they started taking things too far.
Individuals from my unit indiscriminately and unnecessarily opened
fire on innocent civilians as they were driving down the road on
their own streets." He asked us all to see the war through the eyes
of an Iraqi and consider how we might respond if a foreign army
invaded our communities and terrorized our families.

The soldiers and vets described the shear mechanics of killing so
many people. In story after story, we heard how Rules of Engagement
slowly eroded to the point where it was too often left up to these
young, very frightened, soldiers to determine for themselves if they
"felt" threatened. Jason Lemieux, who served almost five years with
the Marines, including the invasion and three tours in Iraq,
described the rules he received: "[M]y commander told me that our
mission was-and I quote-'to kill those who need to be killed and save
those who need to be saved.' And with those words, he pretty much set
the tone for the deployment." Too often, the Rules were reduced to
"Shoot anything that moves."

Two Marines talked about trashing the country during the invasion.
One of them, Brian Casler, served three combat tours in Iraq and
Afghanistan. As part of the invasion force, he said he and others in
their unit defecated and urinated into the containers of food and
water they threw at the welcoming children they encountered. To
relieve the boredom during his first deployment, they demolished
Babylonian ruins and "drove over the rubble for fun." After
describing how they ransacked a public building, he said, "We found
out later that we had shredded all of the birth certificates for the
City of Fallujah."

Several speakers talked about the disrespect of the Iraqi dead.
Michael Leduc, for example, told us about "Rotten Randy" and "Tony
the Torso," the nicknames his Marine unit gave to the corpses they
used for rifle practice.

Soldiers and vets also explained the practice of "reconnaissance by
fire," where they'd shoot first into a house or a neighborhood in
order to draw return fire. Then, instead of moving on the source of
the return fire and incurring more risk to the unit, they'd respond
with overwhelming firepower that devastated the entire building or
area. Hart Vigas, a mortarman who served with the Army's 82nd
Airborne for the invasion of Iraq, painted a word picture of the
indiscriminate, "ground-shaking" destruction from C-130 Specter
gunships. The students have learned from their teachers. A forward
observer and drill instructor with the Army's 101st Airborne
Division, Jessie Hamilton stated that the Iraqi forces "showed little
or no restraint" when they responded to the slightest attack with
such indiscriminate firing that the U.S. troops gave nicknames to
their methods: 'spray and pray' and 'death blossom.' "Once the
shooting started," he said, "death would blossom all around."

Clifton Hicks described an operation that resulted in an official
estimate of 700 to 800 enemy dead. "Judging from what I saw on the
ground," he said, "I'm willing to swear under oath in all honesty
that while many enemy combatants were in fact killed, the majority of
those so-called KIAs were in fact civilians attempting to flee the battlefield.

The gripping presentation and images from Jon Michael Turner, who
served in Iraq with the 8th Marines, were, like so many personal
stories we've heard, still bleeding with its raw truthfulness. "A lot
of the raids and patrols we did were at night around three in the
morning . . . . And what we would do is just kick in the doors and
terrorize the families." After he described segregating the women,
the children, and the men, he said, "If the men of the household were
giving us problems, we'd go ahead and take care of them anyway we
felt necessary, whether it be choking them or slamming their head
against the walls. . . . On my wrist, there's Arabic for 'F you.' I
got that put on my wrist just two weeks before we went to Iraq,
because that was my choking hand, and any time I felt the need to
take out aggression, I would go ahead and use it."

He was one of the first to speak of these things but far from the
last. Like so many other speakers, he said this kind of situation was
the norm for him and for others, not the exception. With a forced
smile that constrained his quivering lips, he closed with an apology
to the Iraqi people: "I just want to say that I am sorry for the hate
and destruction that I have inflicted on innocent people. . . . until
people hear about what is going on with this war, it will continue to
happen and people will continue to die. I am sorry for the things
that I did. I am no longer the monster that I once was."

Describing the heartache that results from not being able to identify
your enemy, Jason Washburn, a Marine who served four years and
completed three tours of duty in Iraq, said this: "If the town or the
city that we were approaching was a known threat, if the unit that
went through the area before we did took a high number of casualties,
we were basically allowed to shoot whatever we wanted. . . . I
remember one woman was walking by, carrying a huge bag, and she
looked like she was heading towards us. So we lit her up with the
Mark 19, which is an automatic grenade launcher. And when the dust
settled, we realized that the bag was only full of groceries. And, I
mean, she had been trying to bring us food, and we blew her to pieces for it."

Soldiers and vets told how superior officers instructed them on the
official ways to torment and beat detainees. Andrew Duffy, a medic
who served on the trauma team at the Abu Ghraib military prison, put
it this way, "You can't spell abuse without 'Abu.'" They were told to
use the term "detainee" because, unlike "prisoner of war," there are
no laws protecting detainees. While he rocked back and forth in his
seat nervously, Mathew Childess, a Marine infantryman who served two
tours in Iraq, referred to beating detainees and "breaking fingers."
When a particular detainee begged for food and water, he took the
man's hat, wiped himself with it, and stuffed it into the man's mouth.

Like Turner, numerous soldiers and veterans stared into the cameras
that were recording the hearing for broadcast and pled for
forgiveness from the Iraqi people now that they were distanced from
the madness in Iraq in an apparent attempt to regain some of what had
been lost. For many, their hands trembled as they talked and, along
with us witnesses, were moved to tears. At other times, so many only
revealed that thousand-yard stare we've seen too many times on the
faces of Vietnam vets who carry the scars of that war.

We sat engulfed in the horror, sorrow, and grief of the soldiers'
experiences and wondered how we could transform this to help our
children and grandchildren reach an understanding so that they can
make wise decisions when they have the opportunity to serve their
community and country at the local homeless shelter, the voting
booth, the peace march, or the armed forces.

Some vets like Jeff Lucey couldn't speak, so his parents spoke in his
stead. His father said his grown Marine son came home so haunted by
what he had done and witnessed that he drank heavily to anesthetize
his pain-a coping strategy mentioned by many of the vets who spoke.
His parents said Veterans Affairs (VA) told them they couldn't assess
him for PTSD until he was alcohol free. Although he wouldn't talk
about the trauma he experienced, Jeff would ask his father to hold
him on his lap and rock him so he could feel safe. Jeff's father said
the last time he was able to hold his son was when he cut his body
down from the rafters at their home where Jeff had hung himself with a hose.

Those who sell the invasion and occupation as a "just war" will deny
that these first-hand accounts are part of the whole truth or they
will simply dismiss the speakers as liars and traitors, which is
already happening. They will continue to entice new advocates and a
never-ending stream of recruits, all made possible by a gutless
Congress, a compliant media, an apathetic public, and a bottomless
military budget, including $4 billion annually for recruiting.

Repeatedly, the speakers stated that they welcomed the opportunity to
testify as to the accuracy of their statements in a legal proceeding.
Luis Montalvan, a captain with 17 years of service in the Army,
stated, "I would like nothing better than to testify under oath to
Congress." He then quoted President Theodore Roosevelt: "To announce
that there must be no criticism of the President, or that we are to
stand by the President, right or wrong, is not only unpatriotic and
servile, but is morally treasonable to the American public."
--

Cynthia Orange is a free lance writer, a creative writing teacher,
and book author. Michael Orange served with the 1st Marines in
Vietnam (1969-70) and authored, Fire in the Hole: A Mortarman in
Vietnam (Writers Club Press, 2001). They have been married since 1973
and live in St. Paul, Minnesota.

.