Three Minutes In Time

I've spent the last two days reflecting on an experience I will not soon forget.... there are many things I bitch about.... the army has plenty short comings.... I have a tendency to focus on the things that need improvement, and that are lacking..... rarely do I reflect or share the experiences that my job has made me privy to.... there are many things I've seen or been a party to simply because of the job I chose.... some of these things have had a lasting impact on me and ill carry to the grave... others go without reflection and are buried deep inside of me..... sometimes though, I experience something that few will ever have an opportunity to experience and like a snap shot in time, they are forever imprinted on my soul.... these experiences are special because they shape the foundation of who I am and what I think...

two days ago I spent the better part of 10 hours in the presence of a high value terrorist.... he had been captured at some point previous to this day, and it was my squads job to escort him to an Iraq judge and then back to the detention facility..... this man wasn't a bomb maker... he wasn't a foot soldier for a radical movement.... he was a high ranking architect of a group that has attacked and killed many soldiers..... this man orchestrated the movements, recruitment, rhetoric, bomb making, transportation, financing, emplacement, and all other logistics involved with the coordination of such an element... nine of the ten hours I spent in the presence of this guy, there was no talking... no, he hadn't said a word since he had been captured..... He wouldn't talk to any of the interrogators..... he didn't talk the whole way to the court house, and he didn't talk the entire time we were there ( about 9 hours ).... but when it was time to take him back, I took a shot.... what ensued was a simple conversation that I will never forget.... it wasn't necessarily the content of the conversation but more the gravity of the situation... here was a high ranking terrorist who wouldn't talk to anyone... but he talked to me....

now one thing I want to point out that I noticed right off the bat was that he made a conscience effort to talk to me at my really low level Arabic... I have talked with many Iraqi's and one thing they all do once they know that I know a little Arabic is over whelm me with it.... I speak very simple broken Arabic to them, they come back at me with long, fast, and correctly, structured Arabic.... it leaves me lost and confused... I don't know what the hell we're talking about any more and it makes communication between us suck.... this guy immediately recognized my level of Arabic and he spoke to me at it.... he didn't speak fast, he didn't use a lot of words and he even went out of his way to use broken Arabic that he knew I would understand..... He would use words that I had already said to him and he would structure it the same way I structured it to him....

before I get into the conversation we had, I want it to be known that my dissent for this man and my desire to kill him was very much real but internalized..... He wasn't my friend and he knew this... I wasn't his friend and he made no gesture to symbolize other wise..... On the contrary, I felt very much from his body language and the look in his eyes, that he hated me as much as I did him..... Even though we were civil in our conversation, we both knew that if we were to have happened on to each other in a different situation, I would have made every attempt to snatch the life right out of him..… and he would have tried the same, this fact wasn't lost to either of us.... he didn't try to act like my friend or act like he liked me... he didn't want anything from me..... I would be willing to bet this was the first time he casually spoke to an American in his life..... He hated me and he wasn't trying to hide it... I hated him and I wasn't going to hide it.... we were enemies of the worst kind.... but for a brief 3 min conversation, we put that aside and engaged each other without sacrificing our beliefs or feelings..... He was surprisingly honest in his answering of my questions.... I know this because his answers were not aimed at pleasing me, but rather standing behind what he believes.... he wasn't rude, loud, disgusted or insulting... he was simply honest....

*THE CONVERSATION*

it started when I loaded him into our truck, preparing for our trek back across Baghdad.... he was handcuffed and blindfolded in the seat cattycorner to mine... while we were sitting there waiting for the everyone to get ready to go, I made a simple statement in Arabic that I thought might induce a reaction.... I said " la abwha nasifay il yom in shal la.... which translated word for word means ( no ied's today god willing ).... he replied immediately with cuffed hands raised to the sky " in shal la " ( god willing ).... I then introduced myself to him.... I said "aunie adreef mcneil" ( im sgt. mcneil )... he said blah blah blah.... I don’t remember his real name but if I had I still wouldn’t have told you.... then I said to him " aunie adreef mcneil low abu mikey " ( im sgt mcneil or father of mikey...... this took him by surprise.... the fact that I knew this custom really impressed him... in Iraq and maybe other middle eastern countries, when a man fathers a boy he gets an alias... abu then the name of his oldest son... im my case its mikey.... so I could be referred to in Iraq as abu mikey.... he replied to me " abu mikey.... aunie abu saad " ( father of mikey.... im father of saad )..... just to reinforce that fact that I knew what I was talking about (like I always do when I refer to myself as abu mikey to Iraqi’s) said to him " mikey hamza sena " ( mikey 5 year ) this is what I was talking about earlier... I don’t know the correct way to specify age.... so I say the word 5 and the word year... most times when I do this the Iraqi im talking to either doesn’t understand what im trying to say or he corrects me and says it the right way for me... this guy didn’t do that..... he replied " saad klathey sena" ( saad 3 year ).... he knew what i was saying and he knew I would understand it if he replied the same way I said it to him.... at this point I went into my standard line of questions I asked most Iraqi’s I talk to.... one thing I will point out is that during our cultural briefings before we deployed one thing that was said to us is that it is customary for Iraqi’s when answering questions to tell you what you want to hear... rather then be honest they will tell you what is considered the right answer or what you think the right answer is.... I found this to be very true, but not with this guy...... i asked him " bush low obama" ( bush or obama ) he said " bush mu z en.... obama," ( bush not good, obama) and then he just shrugged his shoulders ask if to say he doesn’t know.... I asked " saddam low malikie " he said " saddam mu z en.... malikie mu z en " ( saddam not good, malikie not good ) this was the first Iraqi to honestly say that he didn’t like the current president of Iraq.... im sure others ive asked didn’t like him either but they weren’t honest about it.... " il jaysh emreeky z en low mu z en" ( army american, good or not good ) he said with a smirk " il jaysh emreeky, mu z en" ( army American not good )... la, I said, " aunie jundee emreeky, aunie z en " ( no, im an American soldier, im good ).... he smirked again and said " la, il jaysh emreeky mu z en " ( no, army American no good.... " il jaysh iraqi z en low mu z en " ( army Iraqi good or not good ).... " mu z en "..... la I said and ended it there.....

We didn’t talk the rest of the way to the detention facility..... but when we arrived he was more receptive to me... one thing I forgot to mention is that for the first 9 hours that I had him, I would have to walk him cuffed and blindfolded from here to there.... every time we got to any obstacle that he couldn't see , I would say step so that he wouldn’t fall on his face.... after abu graub, busting up detainees became a big no no.... otherwise I probably would have let him fall a few times.... at first he didn’t know what step meant and I didn’t know the Arabic word for it so it was a trial and error thing.... after about 4-5 times I said step, he started to get the feel for the word and what it meant..... However, I would use it for any obstacle.... stairs, curb, rocks, anything in his way he had to step over or on..... When we got back to the detention facility, I was taking him down the stairs of our truck and I said to him step... he reached his foot down and felt what I was talking about and he said to me " dur edge" ..... dur edge I said back to him and he said " e" ( yes )..... Now I knew dur edge means stairs in Arabic..... when we were walking into the facility I had to have him step up on to a curb, and so I said step to him again... he stopped reached out his foot to feel what I was talking about and he said the Arabic would for step up to me.... for the life of me I cant remember the fucking word but I ended up using it 3-4 more times to him when the situation permitted and he knew what to do when I said it.....

I know this conversation may seem trivial, and unimportant...... it may even seem like I made a friend out of a terrorist..... I didn’t.... this guy isn’t my friend..... He knows this and I know this..... I think as time when on, two guys who started out with complete distain for each other, gained a certain level of understanding and mutual respect for one another.... he respected me because I took the time to try to learn is language and his customs, and I respected him because he stood by his beliefs even though he knew they were different then mine..... I will kill this man if im ever in a position where I wouldn’t get in trouble for it, and im sure he would blow my ass up if he sees me on the streets and he was free.... but while in a deadlock where we couldn’t kill one another, we had a little talk, we got to know each other a little, and we gained respect for one another..... This day I will remember for the rest of my life....