Iraq War News

Three yellow ribbons are wrapped around posts on the front porch of Steve and Jan Coffman's Battle Creek area home -- one for each son serving in the U.S. Army.

But the ribbons also stand for much more:

The love the Coffmans have for their sons.

The pride that they are serving their country.

The hope and prayers that they will be safe.

And fear that they won't.

Two of the Coffmans' sons are serving overseas in two countries that have been the focus of the United States' war on terrorism. Staff Sgt. Gregory Coffman, 28, is with the 27th Engineering Battalion in Afghanistan. Pvt. Josh Coffman, 20, is with the 596th Maintenance Co. in Iraq.

While Gregory is expected to return to the United States in late August, they don't know how long Josh will be in Iraq, the Coffmans said. They've only heard from Josh once in the past six weeks. They received a letter from him recently that was dated June 19.

"I'm very proud of them and I know that they're doing what they want to do, but as a father my hair is turning grayer every day," said Steve Coffman, an Army veteran. "No one wants their family or anybody else's family in harm's way."

The Coffmans are one of several families in the Battle Creek area who have loved ones in the military serving in Iraq. While many reservists whose units are based in Battle Creek have returned home to their normal lives, other reservists and active military personnel with ties to the Cereal City area continue to serve in Iraq and face dangers daily.

Some have been in Iraq since the beginning of the war. Others have been sent there recently to help restore order.

In either case, they were or are in a danger zone, where more than 100 U.S. soldiers have died since May 1, when President Bush declared that major combat operations in Iraq had ended.

Another of Steve and Jan Coffman's sons, Staff Sgt. Brett Coffman, 29, handles staff communications for the Army at the White House. Brett and Gregory are career military men, but Josh enlisted to earn money for college to pursue a career as a mechanic, Steve said.

"Now he's getting some on-the-job training," Jan said of Josh, adding that their sons in the military are learning a valuable lesson about the stark contrast between life in this country and in other countries.

"In a way, I think that's been good for the two boys to see in Afghanistan and Iraq how other people live," she said.

HUSSEIN BROTHERS' DEMISE

The deaths Tuesday of Saddam Hussein's elder sons Odai and Qusai have done little to ease the fears of the Coffmans and some other area families. Jan said although she's glad that the U.S. military killed Odai and Qusai, she fears there will be retaliation against American troops.

"I think in the long run it will help," Steve said, wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with the Army emblem; the names and ranks of Brett, Gregory and Josh; and the words "Proud Dad."

"I don't think the job will be finished until they get Saddam. I think we should get a little more help from other countries (too)," he said.

Liz Barnes of Battle Creek also is worried about a possible backlash by Iraqi citizens on American troops because of the deaths of Saddam's elder sons.

Barnes and her ex-husband, Chuck Yarger, also of Battle Creek, have two sons in the Marines. Cpl. Brian Yarger, 21, is in Iraq with the 2nd Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment. Lance Cpl. Eric Yarger, 19, returned from Iraq to his home base at Camp Lejeune, N.C., in May. He is with the 2nd Light Armored Reconnaissance Battalion.

"I'm worried it's going to get worse before it gets better," Barnes said. "It's very scary. Every day it seems like one more soldier has been killed or two more, and he (Brian) was farther south and now they've moved him closer to Baghdad."

She said she last heard from Brian during the week of July 14 and he said he may return to his home base at Camp Pendleton, Calif., in mid-August. But like many military families, Barnes said nothing's certain until the troops actually land on American soil.

Chuck Yarger and Barnes said their younger son, Eric, has helped calm their worries about Brian still serving in Iraq. Each talks to Eric on the phone frequently.

"I'm more concerned now than when they were in the heavy combat because when they're in combat, you know they're alert. You know they're really watching things," Yarger said. "It's hard to have somebody stay on alert constantly."

Brian and Eric always have been very close and did a lot of things together, but the military experience has made them even closer, their parents said.

Brian walked three miles in the Kuwaiti desert to see his younger brother, Yarger said. They also were able to communicate with each other just before Eric returned to the United States.

The last time Chuck Yarger heard from Brian was June 30 when Brian e-mailed to wish his dad a happy birthday, he said.

"The war is not over," he said. "Yeah, I want my kids home ... One of the harder things was I'm their dad. It's been my job to protect them all their lives. Now it's their job to protect me."

RESERVISTS STILL BEING DEPLOYED

Marge Erk of Battle Creek said she and her husband, Max, have found that some people react with surprise when they tell them that their daughter, Spc. Ronda Mensch, 25, was deployed to the Gulf slightly over a month ago. Some people aren't aware that the U.S. government continues to send troops to Iraq, she said.

Mensch, of Charlotte, recently reached Baghdad as a member of the Michigan Army National Guard's 156th Signal Battalion, based out of Oshtemo. She served two years in the Army in Germany, including six months in Bosnia, and has been in the military for eight years.

"I try to keep a positive attitude and I just have a very strong faith and feel like God is watching over her specifically, and pray for her often," Erk said, adding her daughter has told her she'll likely be in Iraq for at least a year or more.

"Of course I'd like her home as soon as possible, but I understand whatever needs to happen will happen," she said. "I know they'll bring them home as soon as they can. I'm used to the military and they're on their own time frame and you can't second-guess it."

Dorothy and Louis Mrozovich's son, Staff Sgt. Steven Mrozovich, 39, is in the same Army National Guard unit as Mensch. He served for 14 years as a Marine before joining the National Guard seven years ago.

They're very familiar with military procedure, because she spent 2 1/2 years in the Marine Corps and her husband served 24 years in the Marines, she said. The couple live in Battle Creek.

"This is what they're trained for. That's the way we look at it," she said. "He (her husband) wants to get in, get out, but that's not the way it's going."

If the United Nations got involved in Iraq, that may help alleviate some of the Iraqis' animosity toward the United States, she said.

Area military families said they want to make sure that people don't forget about the American troops still serving in Iraq and other political hot spots around the world.

"Putting all the politics behind, I'm basically really proud, not only of my sons, but everyone's sons and daughters (serving in the military)," Steve Coffman said. "In my book, they're all heroes."

Khristine Elliott covers news and Neighbors features. She can be reached at 966-0675 or kelliott@battlecr.gannett.com



Originally published Sunday, July 27, 2003

They couldn't be prouder - battlecreekenquirer.com

Flood of new informants will lead to Saddam's capture,

28.07.2003 2.26 pm

BAGHDAD - General Richard Myers, the Chairman of the US Joint Chiefs of Staff, said today the deaths of Saddam Hussein's sons had led to a flood of new informants and he was sure the Iraqi dictator would be found.

Landing in Baghdad after visiting the 4th Infantry Division in Saddam's former heartland to the north, Myers said: "There's been a big spike in the numbers coming forward, providing evidence of weapons caches and of where people are."

Asked about operations by the division in trying to find Saddam himself, he declined to be drawn on how long it would take: "I've never said, one way or another.

"I do talk to the folks that are involved in those operations and it's my opinion, if he's alive, it's just a matter of time," he said. "It's a big country, but we'll find him."

Speaking after one of the bloodiest weeks for US troops in Iraq since the war to remove Saddam ended, he played down the role Saddam could be playing in directing guerrilla attacks. He also declined to endorse suggestions by other US officers that killing sons Uday and Qusay should slow the pace of attacks.

"He's trying so hard to save his own skin that he's not able to communicate effectively," Myers said.

The effect of the sons' deaths was hard to predict, he said, adding that many attacks were the work of "mercenaries". The clearest impact could be in reducing fear of the former rulers and so increasing the flow of intelligence.

Asked about the mounting casualty toll -- 16 soldiers have been killed in the past nine days -- Myers declined to be drawn on whether President George W. Bush had set an "acceptable" number of US casualties: "We're here to do the job," he said.

"We understand that there will be casualties. The soldiers understand exactly what this is all about."

- REUTERS


New Zealand Herald - Latest News

DEPARTMENT OF THE ARMY OFFICE OF THE SECRETARY OF THE ARMY WASHINGTON, D.C. 20310-0101
23 JUL 03
INFORMATION FOR MEMBERS OF CONGRESS
SUBJECT: Army Unit Rotation Plan in Support of Global War on Terrorism

The Secretary of Defense has approved the Army’s plan for moving major combat units into and out of Iraq and other theaters of operation. It should be no surprise to any deployable Army unit - active or Reserve Component - that they can be called to serve in a combat zone. All available forces will be made available to deploy in support of ongoing operations. The Army continues to perform training and readiness duties as it normally would in preparation for possible contingencies or deployments. The Army’s role is to ensure Combatant Commanders are provided the forces and capabilities they require to accomplish their missions.

The Army will start to redeploy home the remainder of the 3rd Infantry Division in September 2003. The primary rotation plan centers on brigade-sized force packages for approximately one-year deployments with the goal of establishing 6-month rotations after Operation Iraqi Freedom 2 (OIF2). The overall size of the Army commitment to this mission will take into account contributions by our Coalition partner’s plans to support the theater. Likewise, efforts are underway to recruit an Iraqi army and to put up to 60,000 Iraqi policemen back to work. There is no doubt that the transition from dictatorship to democracy will take time, but our soldiers will help leave behind a free Iraq.


Operation Iraqi Freedom

OIF 1 (approximately 1 year)*** OIF2*** Projected

3rd Infantry Division (-) Replaced by 82d Airborne Division (-)* SEP-OCT 03

4th Infantry Division Replaced by 1st Infantry Division w/ eSB** MAR-APR 04

1st Armored Division Replaced by 1st CAV Division w/ eSB** FEB - APR 04
2nd Light CAV Regiment 1st CAV Division w/ eSB** MAR-APR 04

3rd Armored CAV Regiment Overlaps w/ 3rd Brigade, 2nd ID (SBCT)
(SBCT deploys in OCT 03 - 3rd ACR redeploys MAR-APR 04)

101st Airborne Division (AASLT) Replaced by Coalition Division FEB/MAR 04

2nd Brigade, 82d Airborne Div Redeploys JAN 04

173rd Airborne Brigade Redeploys APR 04


*6-Month Rotation
** Enhanced Separate Brigades (eSB - ARNG - 270 Day PSRC)- TBD
*** OIF 1 and OIF 2 are 12 Month Rotations

INFORMATION FOR MEMBERS OF CONGRESS
SUBJECT: Army Unit Rotation Plan in Support of Global War on Terrorism (cont)


Operation Enduring Freedom - Afghanistan

OEF - A3 OEF- A4 Projected

82d Airborne Division (-) Replaced by 10th Mountain Division (-) AUG 03

OEF - A4 OEF - A5 Projected

10th Mountain Division (-) Replaced by 25th Infantry Division (-) FEB 04

6-Month Rotation

Additionally, the National Guard and reserve have been used in a variety of peacekeeping operations around the globe, including Bosnia, Kosovo and the Multi-national Force and Observers mission in the Sinai. They have a demonstrated mission capability for peacekeeping operations. They are fully capable of ensuring that humanitarian and post-conflict operations in Iraq are not interrupted.

Bosnia - SFOR Projected
35th Infantry Division (-) Replaced by 34th Infantry Division (-) SEP 03
(KS ARNG) (MN ARNG)

Kosovo - KFOR
1st Infantry Division (-) Replaced by 28th Infantry Division (-) FEB 04
(PA ARNG)
Sinai - MFO
1-133d Infantry, 34 ID Replaced by 1-125th Infantry, 38th ID JAN 04
(IA ARNG) (MI ARNG)

All 6-Month Rotations

We owe it to our soldiers and their families to provide them with timely notifications for deployments and predictability of the length of those deployments. The Nation’s soldiers have done and will continue to perform their duties in the proudest tradition of the United States Army.

Point of contact for this notification is LTC Vic Samuel, (703) 697-1244, Office, Chief Legislative Liaison.

FURNISHED BY
OFFICE, CHIEF OF LEGISLATIVE LIAISON
OFFICE, ACTING SECRETARY OF THE ARMY

To all of you who are so generously helping with the Adopt a Soldier Program:

First I want to say "thank you" again for all you are doing. I know how busy everyone is, but I want you to know that each time you send a piece of mail you are letting a soldier know that someone is thinking of and supporting him. It's hard for me to understand what it must be like to get up in the morning knowing that you might be the next American casualty on the evening news. Thanks for letting them know you care.

I thought I might pass on some of the things I've learned about mailing through the USPS.

Any item up to 13 oz can go First Class Mail. If you know the weight you can calculate the postage online as the USPS site. The first oz is 37 cents. If the envelope is an odd shape or has metal clasps there is a 12 cent surcharge since it can't go through the sorting machine.

http://www.usps.gov

Items heavier than 13 oz need to go priority mail. Up to 1 pound will go for $3.85 (and these priority mail stamps are available at the PO or online). There is also a flat rate envelope which goes for $3.85 for as much as you can get stuffed in it. This is great for magazines. The Priority Mail envelopes and stickers are free. Ask for them at the Post Office.

Remember than any item weighing more that 16 oz requires a Customs Declaration. (You can pick up as many as you want at the PO and fill them out ahead of time)

I have been scrounging boxes everywhere - my 17 yr. old son has been embarrassed several times when I stop and pick them out of people's trash. The good news is that I have found out you can order priority mail boxes in 2 different sizes (7x7x6 and 12x12x8) from the USPS website. You have to order a minimum of 25 boxes, but they are free and the shipping is free also. What a deal! You have to look under the business section (rather than personal) and you can also order priority mail stickers and tape - also free.

But the most amazing thing I found is that you can send a postcard (there are many good designs - look under US Patriotic) with your own message for only 79 cents. The first one you send is free. Click on "Send Cards and Letters" on the USPS webpage. You can send letters and greeting cards the same way and never leave your computer! I sent my first free one to my youngest son (at home) so I can see how it looks - I'll let you know.

I hope in the next week or so some of you will begin to hear back from "your" soldiers. Please let me know when you do. Even if you don't get a reply, please know that what you are doing is so important and as my mother used to say "you are earning stars for your heavenly crown."

Katie
God Bless Our Troops and God Bless America
Thank you Katie

Another kind of fight: For some troops, tedium is enemy

07/27/03

Jill Carroll
Special to The Plain Dealer


Baghdad, Iraq - The snaps of guns cocking break the still night air at the checkpoint as Sgt. Ryan Poetsch and his fellow soldiers spot the two headlights in the darkness, coming on fast.

It's well after curfew, and Poetsch crosses into the vehicle's path and waves it down with a bright orange glow stick. As it slows, the blue-and-white paint job on the car packed with uniformed men tells the soldiers they won't be seeing much action tonight.


From Our Advertisers





"It's the goddamn police," shouts one soldier in exasperation.

The Iraqi police patrol wants some glow sticks. After securing two from the soldiers, they drive off all smiles, waving flashes of fluorescent orange. That's the most action these soldiers from the 1st Infantry Division saw on a recent night patrol, or most patrols, they say.

For Poetsch, 28, who was born in Bay Village, and his fellow soldiers in this part of Baghdad, life here has become a different kind of fight. Each day, they must battle the same stifling heat and overwhelming boredom they faced the day before and will face for days to come.

While many soldiers in Iraq have come under hostile fire, Poetsch has been one of the lucky ones. He hasn't been shot at, and he has yet to fire his weapon in his two months here.

Manning a checkpoint in the middle of Baghdad traversed by more stray cats than bad guys isn't exactly what Poetsch had in mind when he re-enlisted in the Army 18 months ago. He figured he'd be jumping out of planes with the 82nd Airborne Division.

But the Pentagon decided to swap light infantry soldiers like him with armored infantry soldiers, so he now patrols Iraq from the deafeningly noisy and stiflingly hot innards of a Bradley fighting vehicle.

"It's a little different for us. We're infantry guys. We're used to fighting and killing things, and now we have to be nice to people," Poetsch says with a chuckle in a soft, patient voice that belies his bulked-up physique, maintained from a stint playing arena football for a living.

Baghdad's a long way from Greenville, Ohio, the small town northwest of Dayton where he grew up and spent most of his life.

"The thing I miss the most is it's nice and quiet. It's a very simple life," he said of his hometown. He considers the thought for a moment, then adds with a grin: "The one thing I miss the most out of everything is Ohio State football."

There are many long hours between his shifts, and Poetsch's mission most days is just to get through them.

"It's very monotonous. It's like that movie Groundhog Day,' " he said. Every day is sunny, every day is the same. "It's hard, very hard over here."

The soldiers in his company are stacked literally atop one another in bunk beds barely three feet apart in one of Odai Hussein's old houses on the university campus. Pin-up posters, pictures from home and gear are packed to the Styrofoam walls they built to enclose what was an open-air porch. It also helps keep in the cool air from the air condi tioning. Recently, a basketball net was set up, and there is some weightlifting equipment on the roof to provide some distraction.

The boredom has produced some ingenuity. One sergeant built an outdoor shower, adding a second one for the more than 100 men to share. Another made a set of shelves from used Meals Ready to Eat boxes. The entertainment one recent afternoon was a soldier who bet he could eat an entire jumbo pack of ani mal crackers in an hour. He lost.

"We lift, read and watch movies because you can't really go out of here," Poetsch says, pointing to the walls surrounding the house grounds. "It's like cabin fever. You just want to do something. . . . You either sleep the day away or read a book or find other things . . . like eating animal cookies."

None of it would be so bad though, he says, if he didn't have to be away from his wife and newborn in Germany, where he had been based for a year. Just before the night patrol, Poetsch got word that he wouldn't be going home until spring. His 7-month-old son has already spent more than half his life without his father.

"You go back [and you're] not even sure they remember who you are," he said.

Jill Carroll is a free-lance writer traveling in Iraq.
Another kind of fight: For some troops, tedium is enemy

Daring patrols lure out attackers along 'Ambush Alley'

July 27, 2003

BY D'ARCY DORAN



AMBUSH ALLEY, Iraq--A flash shattered the darkness, and a bomb blew up in front of Sgt. 1st Class Mike Mizell's tank. Within seconds, a rocket-propelled grenade whistled overhead.

''Driver, stop! Gunner, reverse to the left!'' the 35-year-old tank commander from Orangeburg, S.C., shouted into his radio.

For commanders like Mizell, the attack along the dangerous Highway 1, dubbed ''Ambush Alley,'' wasn't unexpected. The goal on this patrol, like many others, was to bait the enemy into attacking armored infantry units and draw them away from more vulnerable targets.

''It's as dangerous as hell,'' 68th Armored's commander, Lt. Col. Aubrey Garner, 39, said. ''But soldiers are willing to put themselves in danger to kill the enemy.''

The gunners sprayed machinegun tracer fire toward a line of palm and eucalyptus trees where the attacker took cover to fire the grenade. Two Apache helicopter gunships clattered in to chase down anyone running away. The other pair of tanks in Mizell's patrol fired their machineguns toward the spot, guided by the initial tracer rounds. It was impossible to tell if any Iraqi fighters were killed or wounded.

Daily guerrilla ambushes have pushed the number of U.S. soldiers killed in action in Iraq to more than 160, and troops said they expected Saddam Hussein loyalists to step up attacks after the Tuesday killing of his sons Odai and Qusai.

The brothers' deaths didn't stop attacks on ''Ambush Alley'' last week. The road links the capital, Baghdad, with the volatile area to the north and west known as the ''Sunni Triangle,'' where support for Saddam is strong.

The large number of attacks on the road forced the Army to move the 4th Infantry's Third Brigade into the Balad area about 30 miles north of Baghdad in June.

The moon, in its last quarter, doesn't rise until well after midnight, making Ambush Alley even darker and more dangerous.

''Every night, it's knock on steel,'' said Staff Sgt. David Gonzalez, 33, master gunner for the 1st Battalion, 68th Armor Regiment. Despite a month of regular enemy contact and a few close calls, no 3rd Brigade soldier has been killed by hostile fire.

The attacks came earlier than usual Wednesday night, about 11:20 p.m., just minutes after the tanks rolled onto the highway. After taking hits but no damage from homemade explosives and rocket propelled grenade fire, they circled back, hoping to draw the enemy out to attack them again.

Mizell's tank was hit again less than an hour later.

''Contact! Contact!'' Mizell called into his radio. ''Engaging with direct fire! Yee ha!''

The Apaches overhead spotted two or three people running away, about two miles from the site of the initial attack. The attackers had rigged artillery shells to fire at the lead tank from the sides of the road.

Mizell's tank drove off the road to chase the attackers into the trees, but lost their trail. They were spotted again by the Apache pilots.

The tanks sped off to a nearby depot, but a room-to-room search yielded nothing. Before returning to base, the patrol blew up a stash of enemy artillery rounds spotted through night vision scopes.

Fifteen soldiers raided the depot again later Thursday looking for possible escape routes and found an anti-aircraft gun, sights for mortar launchers, three AK-47s and more than 1,300 rounds of ammunition buried in the area, said Lt. Phil Blanchard, from Pittsfield, Mass., who led the raid. The army also detained 10 men for questioning, he said.

AP
Daring patrols lure out attackers along 'Ambush Alley'

3 U.S. soldiers killed at Iraq hospital
By Richard A. Oppel Jr., New York Times


BAQUBA, Iraq -- Three American soldiers with the 4th Infantry Division were killed and four were wounded here Sat urday after an assailant, who witnesses said was probably perched inside the children's hospital the troops were guar- ding, threw a grenade into a group of soldiers who were playing a game of cards next to the building.

Another American soldier was killed Saturday afternoon and two others were wounded in an attack on an Army convoy in Abu Ghraib, just west of Bagh- dad, military officials said.

The hospital here was sealed off shortly after the 11 a.m. at tack, and at 8 p.m. military offi cials were still refusing to allow anyone, with a few exceptions, to enter or leave. Inside, em ployees and patients were sear- ched, interrogated and finger printed, according to people who were allowed the leave the hospital.

Saturday night, a military of ficial at the scene, who asked that his name not be used, said the military was investigating whether the grenade had been thrown from the hospital. Other- wise, aside from confirming the number of dead and wounded, military officials offered few de tails about the attack in this town about 60 miles northeast of Baghdad.

"I saw for myself, three people died and one was crit ically injured," said Hussein Ali, a 30-year-old cafeteria worker at the hospital who was allowed to leave. The grenade "was thrown from inside," he said, adding: "I heard a voice and a loud sound, and then I saw three people dead."

Ali said the soldiers had been relaxing near their armored ve hicle and close to a set of stairs on the exterior of the building. The grenade "was definitely thrown from one of the floors" of the hospital, he said, and the soldiers "were sitting playing cards a few feet away from the military vehicle."

The attack is a blow to hopes that the slaying in Mosul on Tuesday of Saddam Hussein's sons, Odai and Qusai, would weaken the resolve of Iraqi in surgents.

This has been one of the deadliest weeks for U.S. troops since President Bush declared major combat operations over on May 1. Of the 104 Americans killed since then, 14 have died in the last seven days.

Saturday's attack occurred ||<007 . 0005.06>|| on the eastern fringe of the Sunni-dominated region where violence against U.S. soldiers has been the worst. The strike Saturday came after two deadly attacks in a 24-hour period this week in and around Mosul, a northern Iraqi city. In one at tack, insurgents in the village of Qaiyara used rocket-propelled grenades and Kalashnikov auto matic rifles to ambush a convoy early Thursday morning, killing three. Another soldier was killed and six were wounded Wednesday morning, after a re motely detonated explosive struck a convoy traveling in Mosul.

Saturday in Mosul, U.S. troops were busy preparing to demolish the luxury villa where troops killed the Hussein brothers. The demolition will ||<007 . 0005.06>|| follow an extensive search of the home for clues about the where abouts of Saddam Hussein.

The villa, in an upscale neighborhood in the northern part of Mosul, was extensively damaged.

by the fusillade of missiles, grenades and gunfire during a four-hour battle Tuesday. It is owned by Nawaf al-Zidan, a businessman who liked to brag about a familial relationship to Saddam but who his neighbors suspect is the informant who claimed a $30 million bounty by tipping the military to the whereabouts of the two brothers.

"They're putting charges in it and are going to blow it to morrow," said Capt. Jeff Fitzgib bons, a military spokesman in Baghdad. He said part of the ra tionale for quickly razing the villa was to avoid any injuries to squatters taking up residence in a building at risk of collapsing because of structural damage from 12 antitank missile strikes.

But Fitzgibbons also said, "We want to try to make sure it doesn't become some sort of shrine."

In Baquba on Saturday night, one hospital employee who was allowed to leave the building said people inside had seen what appeared to be a safety ring pulled from a grenade lying on the fifth floor, which another employee identified as one of the children's wards.

"Our office was near the ex plosion," said the first em ployee, who would identify herself only as a 32-year-old ad ministrative clerk. "Within 10 minutes, the hospital was sur rounded by soldiers and mili tary vehicles." She said the soldiers targeted "were playing cards, and the grenade was thrown in the middle."

Hamid Satar, 27, who left the hospital 10 minutes before the attack, said: "The Americans were sitting in the garden. There were about eight soldiers wearing T-shirts. Some of them were playing cards. Then the grenade came over them."

He said that many Iraqis, in cluding children, had been in the same area during the morning, but that the attacker must have waited until they left. "They waited until the place was totally clear of Iraqis, and then they threw the grenade," he said.

After the attack, the wounded were quickly taken to the emer gency room, said people who left the hospital, and American sol diers responded with an imme diate search for the attacker. "They separated the women from the men and started taking fingerprints," said Munther Jaafer, a 22-year-old assistant pharmacist at the hospital.

A military translator emerged from the hospital at 6:30 p.m. and spoke to the Iraqis outside. "Nobody is allowed to enter or leave the hospital," he said. "You should go home."

The attacks continue to deeply frustrate soldiers.

"What a lot of people don't understand is that the war is far from over," said Pfc. Adam Gable, of suburban Washington, D.C., who stood guard outside the hospital Saturday night. An other private first class, Higinio Nunez, from Fresno, Calif., said, "All we want is for people to see that we are here to protect them." But, he said, Iraqis "call us Ali Babas," a common refer ence to thieves.

One patient allowed to leave the hospital Saturday afternoon, who would say only that he was from the town of Khan Bani Saad, said that residents were tiring of the American presence, and that that frustration might have been behind the attack. "People don't like to see Ameri cans here," he said.

But the 32-year-old hospital clerk said she was very dis tressed that Iraqis would attack Americans guarding the hos pital. "The people are here to provide security for us," she said. "They are doing their jobs."

In Baghdad overnight, blasts and gunfire rang out, but the U.S. military said there had been no reports of any deaths. In the Shoala neighborhood, the commander of Iraq's national police academy, Brig. Ahmed Kadhim, was wounded while leading a raid on suspected car jackers about 1 a.m., The Asso ciated Press reported.

Kadhim's assistant, Capt. Mushtak Fadhil, said five other officers were also wounded, one critically, when shots were fired as the police confronted five suspects. The suspected car jackers were arrested, he said.

Tri-Valley Herald Online - Local & Regional News

Indelibly marked by war's wounds
Combat: A young Marine returns from Iraq with scars, a hero label and tempered views of war.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
By Scott Calvert
Sun Staff
Originally published July 27, 2003



CAMP PENDLETON, Calif. - The scars, plum-red and raised like welts, line his arms and wrists. They are the graffiti left by the bullets that flew through his body and the surgeries that saved his 18-year-old life.

It has been almost four months since Lance Cpl. Michael Wayne Meyer was shot eight times by a Syrian fighter who popped up in a field south of Baghdad. Now Meyer is 9,000 miles from Iraq, limited to light duty on this Marine Corps base where rolling hills dip into the Pacific Ocean.

But whenever he looks at himself, Meyer sees those scars. Everywhere he goes, on post or in Oceanside or San Clemente, people ask: What happened to you? How did it feel? Some say how sorry they are. Many call him a hero. He loves the fuss and hates it, too.

The war in Iraq and its violent aftermath have created a new generation of wounded soldiers. Pfc. Jessica Lynch may be the most famous, but hundreds of U.S. troops have been shot, hurt in accidents or otherwise made unfit for duty. Many, like Meyer, have been sent home to mend their bodies and, less noticeably, to tend their minds.

Meyer, a native of Elgin, Texas, was relatively lucky. Despite losing a bone in his hand and gaining a metal plate in his arm, he has all of his fingers and limbs. He can get around fine and should regain most of his strength and flexibility. As of now, he has not needed counseling. He might remain, as he hopes, a Marine grunt.

He still struggles, though. He talks about the firefight dry-eyed, but he sobbed drunkenly at a party as the television news reported more Marines killed in Iraq. He boasted about his eight combat ribbons in an online forum but detests the hero label. He is glad to be out of Iraq but feels guilty for leaving behind his comrades.

And he is still the same joking, absentminded knucklehead - his father's words - who can happily waste an afternoon eating greasy pizza and watching MTV. But barely two months after his 19th birthday, he talks of a greater appreciation for life and a dimmer view of war, even one he supports. The boyish bangs remain on his buzz-cut head, but the swagger has faded.

Now that the bad dreams have ended along with the morphine doses, he replays his brush with death over and over in his waking hours. In his mind the ending changes, sometimes for the better, sometimes not.

"I think, if only I would've seen that guy before he saw me," he said this month as he drove his red Chevy pickup truck over Pendleton's twisty roads. "I also think, what if I would have stepped further and caught a couple rounds in the head.

"There are all sorts of things I think about."

Military interest

It was on a trip to Houston's Astroworld in the late 1980s that Ken Meyer first spotted his son's budding interest in the military.

Mike, who was then 4 or 5, had a choice of costumes to wear for a photo at the amusement park. His big sisters chose Playboy bunny outfits. He, like many boys his age, reached for the fatigues. In the picture he holds a toy rifle and grimaces for the camera.

Mike points to his father and other family members as role models. Ken was a Navy lieutenant in the 1970s, and Mike's grandfather and uncles served in the Navy. His Uncle Mike on his mother's side was a member of the Army's 101st Airborne Division in Vietnam.

He committed to the Marines in December 2001 as a high school senior. Last August he formally enlisted, finishing boot camp in November. Next came infantry school at Pendleton, between San Diego and Los Angeles. That ended Feb. 10, and three weeks later he flew to the Kuwait desert to meet his unit, the 3rd Battalion, 5th Marines.

The battalion motto is "Get Some," and he arrived, then still a private first class, in time to be reminded of its lethal, violent essence. Lt. Col. Carl Mundy used a metaphor in his pep talk, but he was plainly ordering his 1,100 men to prepare for fighting and killing.

"The knife's edge is starting to get a little dull," Mundy said before the fighting began. "We need to get the blade sharpened."

Popular, athletic and bright, Meyer had surprised his friends by enlisting for four years. Everyone else went to college or got jobs after graduation. Not only was he joining the military, but he was also doing it at a time when a war was already under way in Afghanistan.

Some people in Elgin, a cotton-growing, cattle-raising town of 5,000 near Austin, thought he was crazy. This guy with a shiny 1974 Corvette and wild streak to match, the one elected prom king and class clown, was essentially signing up for war.

"In boot camp we joked we were going to go over and fight and kill," he recalled. "We'd joke about it, not really knowing we were going to go."

In early March, surveying the swarm of fellow Marines in the desert, it occurred to him that he might be among the soldiers who commanders said would surely die or be wounded. But he doubted it. The odds seemed in his favor.

Pride and worry

Meyer's parents were proud but worried sick. He was just 18, after all, and had not always shown great judgment. In high school, he stole his arch rival school's flag as a prank and nearly tangled with its very angry football team.

Now, as a Marine, he could not afford to be so cocky. Iraqi soldiers, father told son, "are probably not very good shots, but they do occasionally hit people. Please don't be out there in the middle of the field doing jumping jacks."

Denise Meyer relied on her Christian faith to calm her nerves. Not so her husband. He awoke every morning with a knot in his stomach and, with her, raced to check MSNBC and The Sun's Web site for news from reporters traveling with Mike's unit, India Company.

On April 5, a Saturday, they read that Mike's unit had been involved in a firefight the day before. One Marine had been killed, at least two wounded. The story did not include names, so they were left to wonder and worry. That weekend they canceled their plans. They would stay close to home and wait.

Mike never wanted his parents to worry. He had junked the "death letter" his superiors made him write, thinking it bad luck. A week earlier, on March 28, he had written his parents a confident letter from Iraq telling them he was fine.

"Dear Mom and Dad," he began, and proceeded to tell them his unit had already seen combat. "We got ambushed and our platoon totally kicked ass. We wiped out an entire Iraqi company in less than 5 min. We took no casualties. I shot 1 man twice in the chest who didn't put his AK down when they were surrendering. It was either him or me.

"Yall shouldn't worry about me. The air support, mortars and artillery are amazing. Anything that's moving will be destroyed by the time we even get near it. ...

"The word is we will be home around May so I hope yall are ready for a birthday bash. And I will be casually drinking from the keg! I figure if I've been shot at I deserve a beer! ... I'll tell all my stories when I get home so yall don't have to worry. ...

"Hey mom tell everyone at church I'm doing good and that their prayers are working! And to keep praying for us. Lord knows I'm praying. And dad, tell everyone at work I got me one of those terrorist killing bastards and I've got his bayonet to prove it! Well I gotta go. Love yall and I'll be home soon."

That letter was still somewhere in Iraq on Monday morning, April 7, when the phone rang at the Meyers' house just after 5 a.m. Ken answered, thinking it was about the sand and gravel operation he runs - unless it was about Mike.

A sergeant said he had Mike with him and put him on the line.

"Dad, I've been shot, but I'm OK," Mike said.

Village firefight

The Marines had made rapid progress in Iraq since the war started March 19, rolling north up the eastern side of the country as the Army's 3rd Infantry Division cruised up to the west.

Resistance from elements of the Iraqi army and Republican Guard had been less than the Marines expected. By April 3, the 3rd Battalion hoped for a quick push to Baghdad.

But that changed in a farming village called Al Muhaydi As Salih, where a group of well-trained Syrian and Egyptian fighters began firing. The Marines called them "jihad" fighters and took note of their new ammunition and sniper rifles.

As the battalion fought back that afternoon, Meyer stood on a troop carrier. His platoon was held in reserve and he was pulling security when, suddenly, bullets began whizzing by. Commanders ordered his platoon into action, so he and his mates ran toward the firefight about 300 yards away.

American helicopters and mortars pummeled the farmer's field where the foreign fighters hid amid tall grasses. Then the Marines went in to flush out the enemy.

Meyer walked into the field holding his M16 rifle. When gunfire rang out, the Marines would drop to the ground and shoot back before pressing forward.

Meyer was on the extreme right flank when he saw something perhaps five feet ahead. It was an enemy fighter springing up from a hiding spot called a "spiderhole." All he really remembers is the flash from the Kalashnikov rifle.

The next thing Meyer knew, he was lying on his stomach. He did not realize it at the time, but he had been shot six times. Two bullets hit the chest plate in his body armor, and stopped. One went through the base of his right thumb, another through his upper right arm. A third ripped through his left forearm and a fourth grazed his left hand.

His arm felt as if it had been hit by a sledgehammer. Then he felt a seventh bullet go through his foot - the eighth grazed his backside - and comprehended that his foe was still firing.

He felt something else. In addition to firing back, fellow Marines had shot a grenade at the fighter, and a piece of shrapnel punctured the roof of Meyer's mouth. The blood made him believe he had been shot in the head.

"I thought I was dying on the field," he said. "Actually, I was just waiting for the lights to go out."

He tried to crawl away but couldn't. That was when a corpsman dragged him to safety amid the gunfire. He and another corpsman put an intravenous line in Meyer so he could be taken to a helicopter.

The man who shot Meyer, it turns out, had Syrian papers. "He had a smile on his face, is what they tell me," Meyer said, "and they put a bayonet through him a couple times."

Meyer made it out, but Cpl. Erik H. Silva, 22, of Holtville, Calif., was unlucky. He was killed that day. All told, four of India Company's approximately 130 members were killed in Iraq and 16 were wounded - a casualty rate of 15 percent.

Surgical repair

The helicopter took Meyer to a military field hospital in Iraq, and he was soon airlifted to an Army hospital at Landstuhl, Germany.

Doctors had plenty of work to do. One bullet had broken the humerus bone in his right arm, requiring a metal plate. The trapezium bone in his right hand had to be taken out. Surgeons also cut into his right elbow and both arms to relieve swelling around muscles.

Mike did not feel much pain, thanks to a steady flow of morphine. But he did have bad dreams. In one, he was at a trailer park when mini-Corvettes began firing machine guns at him. In another, he was at a party when gunfire erupted; he fell to the ground, only to find he could not move.

After two weeks, Meyer was flown to Bethesda Naval Medical Center in Maryland. His parents and two sisters, Melissa, 25, and Katie, 22, traveled east for a family reunion. Meyer had a stream of visitors, from generals to Orioles players to comedian Drew Carey.

He returned to Texas in early May. Elgin embraced its returning son. Restaurants refused to let Meyer pay. He was grand marshal of the Independence Day parade.

The hero treatment embarrassed his parents, who urged reporters not to forget the Elgin boys still in Iraq. Mike appreciated the show of respect but found it awkward, too.

"I'll be like, I didn't do anything different from the others," he said. "The other guys put their lives on the line. Just because I got unlucky and got shot doesn't make me any different."

His moods could swing wildly. One night while in Texas, Meyer attended a party and drank heavily. He glanced up at the television and saw a report that more Marines had died. He started crying in front of everyone.

There was one other person he has let see him cry: 18-year-old Sherrill Mogonye, whom he has dated on and off since middle school.

"He's been through so much and he's like an adult now," she said. "He talks about how scared he was and how close he was to dying and how he's lucky."

Return to Pendleton

"Hey, there goes a dead man walking," Sgt. Enrique Alaniz shouted.

He was talking to Meyer after his return to Camp Pendleton this month. The last time Alaniz saw him, Meyer was lying wounded in Iraq. The sergeant thought it would be the last time he saw Meyer alive.

"We didn't think he would make it," he said.

Meyer found Pendleton a ghost town populated by other walking wounded and a clutch of Marines due to leave the Corps or, like Alaniz, receive new assignments.

Two mornings later Meyer drove to Camp Pendleton Naval Hospital for physical therapy.

The chants of New Age music filled the hand clinic. Marines in gym clothes or fatigues sat at tables beneath motivational statements, squeezing clips, putting pegs in holes or tugging at webs. Some had been injured in Iraq, and now Meyer would join them three days a week.

For someone shot eight times, Meyer's prognosis seems remarkable. He's expected to recover with few lasting physical handicaps. Tests show that Meyer's right hand is only half as strong as his left. He cannot touch his fingertips to his right shoulder or lay his right hand flat.

But Lt. Shanna Mitola, an upbeat therapist in a white lab coat, told him he should regain much of that flexibility and strength. How long that would take she could not say, but even the scars will fade in time.

Meyer has little to do at Pendleton besides physical therapy and cleaning chores. He tapped into someone's cable line so he could watch TV. He sleeps a lot in the dingy barracks he calls the "crack house." His main job is to show up at 7:30 a.m. and 1 p.m. for formations.

He is a seasoned veteran now and doesn't like hearing new Marine recruits say, "All I want to do is kill."

He tells them: You don't have the slightest idea what happens over there. If you did, you wouldn't want to go into that.

By now, he has boiled down his story to a sentence or two: I was wounded in Iraq, shot eight times by a Syrian terrorist. He gave the short version to a cafe worker who asked what happened.

"Oh," she replied uncertainly. "Sorry to hear that."

If he had an inflated sense of his importance, the Marines have worked to bring him down. One morning, a colonel found that a group of Marines leaving the Corps had trashed their barracks. Meyer and a handful of others had to clean it up. Meyer had to push a squeegee across the floor of one room to clear away sewer water. He had to carry bags of garbage out to a trash bin.

Future undecided

Even so, he wants to remain a grunt. If the Marine Corps decides he can do only a desk job, he wants a medical discharge.

He says he wants to go to college, maybe Texas A&M, and teach high school history. He would cover both sides of the war - the opposition to it and the "patriotic" side of what happened in Iraq.

History, he predicted, will conclude it was "a good war when it was a war, but started to get hairy afterward." He believes Saddam Hussein posed a threat to the United States even if he had no ties to the Sept. 11 attacks and no weapons of mass destruction.

As awful as the war was, he would go back: "If it wasn't for me and my fellow Marines, we wouldn't have a country like this."

It could be weeks before Meyer knows his fate. Doctors want to see how his body heals. They want to watch his mental state. A psychologist warned his mother that Mike may have emotional trouble, that the ordeal may "crater in on him."

It's a heavy burden. "This is the same kid," she said with a laugh, "who teachers were worried about giving a farewell address at commencement because they didn't know what was going to come out of his mouth."

Meyer understands that but said he feels fine. When he was in Texas after the war, he and a buddy spoke with a Marine who did two tours in Vietnam. What the veteran said stuck with him.

"He told me every Marine he's met who has gone through combat has gone through therapy. I don't know. Me and my friend were listening to this guy, thinking, Jeez, hope that doesn't happen to me."


sunspot.net - postwar iraq

A year of sacrifices comes to an end
By LISA LIVERMORE
Register Correspondent
07/27/2003
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fort Dodge, Ia. - Ashlie Coady touched her father's shoulder as he spoke, as if to remind herself that the man who had missed an entire year of her softball games was actually home.

Mark Coady was one of 347 Iowa Army National Guard soldiers from northwest Iowa who returned Saturday after nearly a year of active duty in conjunction with the war in Iraq.

Coady's 10-year-old daughter said she was thankful her father never left the country.

"It's kind of lucky that he got to be in the States," Ashlie said. "He was deployed for the safety of our country and to protect America."

The Guard's 1st Battalion, 194th Field Artillery unit was the first in the state deployed to guard security-sensitive sites in Indiana, Michigan and Ohio.

It was the first time the battalion, headquartered in Fort Dodge, had been called upon since the Korean War.

The soldiers were among the nearly 4,000 Iowa Reserve and Guard members who were activated for duty.

Saturday's homecoming in Fort Dodge featured a parade and a picnic. U.S. flags along Central Avenue greeted nearly 100 soldiers and their families. Members of detachments in Storm Lake, Spencer, Algona and Estherville also celebrated homecomings Saturday.

"The threat was more present once the war started," said Coady, an intelligence officer. "We thought there would be counterattacks on U.S. soil."

Saturday's events highlighted the sacrifices the deployed troops were forced to make.

They didn't fight in the desert, but they gave up nearly a year of their lives, relatives said.

Spc. Michael Dean, a paralegal, missed his daughter's first birthday. Capt. Corey McCoid, a personnel officer, wasn't there to help potty train his 2-year-old daughter. Kyle Miller, 20, dropped out of Iowa State University to man vehicle checkpoints in Michigan.

"Civilian spouses don't go through this," said Susan Cunningham, who helped organize gatherings for the husbands and wives of those deployed. "Very rarely has a civilian person picked up for a whole year and moved away."

The soldiers, even though they never left U.S. soil, were in harm's way, said Ed Graybill, a Guard spokesmen.

"They ran into security risks every time they inspected a car; most of the incidents overseas are often during a vehicle inspection," Graybill said.

Many of the soldiers who returned to Fort Dodge said they came home once a month. They looked forward to time at Grandma's house, steaks for dinner, and fishing and hunting trips.

Ashlie spent little time deciding her father's next active duty.

"I want to go swimming with him, to Adventureland, white-water rafting," she said.
DesMoinesRegister.com | News

soldier in the 15th Transportation Company based at Fort Sill, Noah was part of the initial assault in the war against Iraq.

As for the future, Barrois hopes to devote more time to art.

"I would love to do this full-time," said Barrois, who admitted he will have to develop a knack for salesmanship.

Until then, patrons may have to settle for the occasional cypress paddle or rare but beautiful painting.

To view or buy Barrois' artwork or to schedule a wood-burning demonstration, call 882-3866.
Self-taught artist meets with success

God Bless Sgt Evan Ashcroft and his family. Your hero will never be forgotten. My heartfelt condolences.
A Soldiers Mom
Patti Bader

Yes, there were lots of other things the San Fernando Valley woman could have talked about regarding the war in Iraq. But this wasn't the time for politics.

On this day, Jane Bright was a mother, just a mother who wanted to talk about her son.

Evan Ashcraft was killed last week. He was 24 and an Army sergeant in the 101st Airborne Division. When his mother invited me to visit with her, she had only one purpose. She wanted to honor her boy, and to put a human face to the daily tally of casualties.

"I don't want them to be just numbers," said Bright, human resources director for a North Hollywood aerospace company. "This anguish is unspeakable, and another family goes through it every day. We're not speaking enough about the losses."

Evan Ashcraft's 23-year-old wife, Ashley, was staying with her dad in Castaic when word came Thursday at dawn. The Army messenger was in tears before even delivering the news.

Upstairs, Ashley knew it without hearing a word.

"I was on the floor, screaming," she said. "I didn't want to let them tell me." Ashcraft was one of three American soldiers killed in an ambush near Mosul in northern Iraq. He might have been part of the mission that claimed the lives of Saddam Hussein's sons, but the family just doesn't know the details yet. They believe Evan was killed by a rocket-propelled grenade.

Every day, Jane Bright would read news accounts from Iraq and breathe a sigh of relief if her son's division was somewhere other than in the middle of firefights that continue with no end in sight, despite early claims of victory.

She had reservations about the war from the start, and she had closely followed the debate about whether the world had been misled regarding the justification for combat. But she loved and supported her son without qualification, and losing him makes the politics entirely irrelevant.

Nothing matters except that he's gone.

Nothing matters except that his wife, Ashley, had just finished school and was going to be a teacher.

Nothing matters except that Evan, who played classical piano, was going to go to college before becoming a cop like his father-in-law, LAPD Sgt. Loren Farell, and then have children with Ashley.

"There's still so much of his energy. It's important not to just let him die," says Bright, and so she tells the story of the life he planned.

Bright got the phone call from her ex-husband.

"He said, 'I hate to be the one to tell you this,' " the mother says. "I couldn't even fathom Evan being killed." Now the entire family, including Evan's little brother Drew, 17, is gathered in Castaic. The Army rep who delivered the grim news has returned to discuss arrangements for the shipping of Evan's body back home, and Bright excuses herself to listen in. When she leaves the kitchen, her husband, Jim Bright, speaks up.

"I think it's normal to say, 'OK, I lost a son. Was this for a good cause?' But what Jane is saying is that she lost a son, and people need to know he was not a number," Jim Bright says. "He was someone to be honored and remembered. She and I both believe it transcends political consideration. Kids are dying, and that is what it is. Kids are dying."

He was top-notch, Bright says of her son when she returns. "Absolutely top-notch, like so many of these kids who are fighting over there. It's important that we tell their story, because they need our support."

Evan had been cited last April for rescuing two wounded soldiers. The El Camino Real High School grad had told his family that, if anything happened to him, he wanted them to throw a party, not a wake.

"We're going to do it," Bright said. "We're going to celebrate his life."

Before going to Iraq, Evan told his mother he was aware of her reservations about the war. She told him it didn't matter; she'd do what a mother does.

She'd love him. She'd believe in him. And she'd support him and his fellow soldiers 100%.

"He believed in what he was doing, and I told him, 'Go do your job. Do what you were trained to do," Bright says. "And come home safe.' "

*


Steve Lopez writes Sunday, Wednesday and Friday. Reach him at steve.lopez@latimes.com.

Killed in Iraq -- He Isn't Just a Statistic, He's a Mother's Son

Troops: We Just Missed Saddam Aide
CBS News: Iraq Crisis: "U.S. soldiers based here said they missed catching Saddam Hussein's security chief � and possibly the former dictator himself � by a mere 24 hours early Sunday, and south of Baghdad a U.S. Marine was killed in a grenade attack."