They Didn’t Do It

It was pretty easy for us to see that they were innocent. The older guy was so scared he was almost in tears. “How could this happen here?,” He said, “I thought we were safe from Saddam. I want to go home. I quit.”

Before this, though, they were the suspects. We passed by the guards, who seconds before were ready to mow us down, and we entered the Brigade TOC. The floodlights were bright enough to make the area look like it was daylight. The generators were so loud I couldn’t hear anything else. Two men sat about 20 meters apart on the hard ground. They had their hands tied behind their backs and they were blindfolded. When I saw the one with long hair, I instantly thought of my older brother. This kid didn’t look anything like him, but the hair was the same. When we entered the command tent, I saw the Brigade commander standing there with blood on his uniform. He had been sleeping in the tent when the grenade went off. He was okay, his arm was bandaged and he was covered in blood, but he was still in charge and running the show. Seeing the blood on the colonel made me think for the briefest instance to go outside and put bullets in the heads of the captives. Whatever they had done, someone was obviously hurt worse than the colonel was. I shook the thought from my head immediately. I didn’t want thoughts like that in my head.

Some clothing and a bag of personal affects were given to me before the prisoners were brought in. I searched them and found their ID’s, cell phones, and a little money. These two people were remarkably unremarkable. They were civilians hired to be interpreters for our commanders there in Kuwait. One was just a longhaired kid, and the other was older and very meek. The interrogator, SSG Carville, was being briefed; he would be doing most, if not all of the talking. I was just looking for anything of value that might be in the wallets (i.e. notes, plans, etc.). There was nothing. Chad and Mike were there strictly for the muscle, they were extra guns, but I was glad to have my team with me. We were sitting in the little wooden building waiting for the Chief and SSG Carville to come in with the captives and it was taking forever.

BANG! We all heard it. It was loud and it was close. Someone came into the room wearing a mask and said, “Get your masks on NOW!”, and then he ran out. The SCUD sirens started right after he left. Did they shoot down a SCUD? We had hit the deck when the Bang happened, but hadn’t put on our masks. There hadn’t been a signal until right after the man walked in. I couldn’t get my mask on. The straps were twisted and I was starting to panic. It had been almost a minute since the man came in with the mask on and I still wasn’t able to get it right. I’m going to die! Oh, shit, I’m going to die and I haven’t even left Kuwait. Isn’t this some Bullshit!? Finally, I got it. I wasn’t dying…yet. We sat there…staring at one another. Two minutes…then three…five….ten…no one was talking and I still wasn’t dying. SSG Carville walked in without a mask on and said, “Hey, guys, you still in your masks? All clear, everything’s cool.” We later found out that the sound wasn’t a SCUD being shot down overhead, it was a British airplane. It was a Tornado returning from a mission in Iraq.

On the ground at Camp Pennsylvania, an American soldier was intentionally killing superior officers with a few grenades and a few well placed shots, and in the air above the base, our patriot batteries were shooting down allied aircraft.

…to be continued…