[Mb-civic] NYTimes.com Article: Over Najaf, Fighting for Des Moines

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Over Najaf, Fighting for Des Moines

August 23, 2004
 By GLEN G. BUTLER 



 

Najaf, Iraq - I'm an average American who grew up watching
"Brady Bunch" reruns, playing dodge ball and listening to
Van Halen. I love the Longhorns and the Eagles. I'm you;
your neighbor; the kid you used to go sledding with but who
took a different career path in college. Now, I'm a Marine
helicopter pilot who has spent the last two weeks heavily
engaged with enemy forces here. I'm writing this between
missions, without much time or care to polish, so please
look to the heart of these thoughts and not their
structure. 

I got in country a little more than a month ago, eager to
do my part here for the global war on terror and still get
home in one piece. I'm a mid-grade officer, so I probably
have a better-than-average understanding of the complexity
of the situation, but I make no claims to see the bigger
picture or offer any strategic solutions. Two years of my
military training were spent in Quantico, Va., classrooms.
I've read Sun Tzu several times; I've flipped through Mao's
Little Red Book and debated over Thucydides; I've analyzed
Henry Kissinger's "Diplomacy" and Clausewitz's "On War";
and I've walked the battlefields of Antietam, Belleau Wood,
Majuba and Isandlwana. 

I've also studied a little about the culture I'm deep in
the middle of, know a bit about the caliph, about the five
pillars and about Allah, but know I don't know enough. I am
also a believer in our cause - I put that up front just so
there isn't any question of my motivation. 

We marines are proudly apolitical, yet stereotypically
right-wing conservative. I'm both. And I'd be here with my
fellow devildogs, fighting just as hard, whether John Kerry
or George W. Bush or Ralph Nader were our
commander-in-chief, until we're told to go home. 

The other day I attended a memorial service for an old
acquaintance, Lt. Col. David (Rhino) Greene. He was killed
July 28 while flying his AH-1W Cobra over the eastern edge
of Ramadi. His squadron was composed of reservists: "old
guys" like me who had been around a little while. But
unlike me, these guys had gotten out of active duty to
pursue other careers and spend more time with their
families. Now, they were leading the charge against the
Iraqi insurgency. 

The night after the service, I sat around in an impromptu
gathering of $10 beach chairs in the sand, watching the
sunset and smoking some of Rhino's cigars with friends I
hadn't seen in almost a decade. I listened in awe as they
told me about their Falluja April, about how they had all
cheated death, been shot down, again and again. We talked
about the war, pretending to know all the answers, and we
traded stories about home, bragged about our wives and
kids. 

We also talked about the magic bullet that ended Rhino's
life. It could have been shot by a sniper who had slipped
in over the Iranian border, or maybe it came from the AK-47
of a rebellious Iraqi teenager who viewed shooting at
Yankee helicopters the same way mischievous American kids
might view throwing rocks at cars. No matter, the single
round pierced his neck, and within seconds a good man was
dead, leaving his wife a widow and his two children
fatherless. I won't soon forget that day, but it was
quickly overshadowed by events to come, as I was thrust
into the heat of battle in my own little slice of
Mesopotamia. 

On Aug. 5, after a few days of building intensity, war
erupted in Najaf (again). When we had first come to Iraq,
we were told our mission would be to conduct so-called
SASO, or Security and Stability Operations, and to train
the Iraqi military and police to do their jobs so we could
go home. Obviously, the security part of SASO is still the
emphasis, but our unit's area of operations had been very
quiet for months, so most of us weren't expecting a fight
so soon. 

That changed rapidly when marines responded to requests for
assistance from the Iraqi forces in Najaf battling Moktada
al-Sadr's militia, who had attacked local police stations.
Our helicopters were called on the scene to provide close
air support, and soon one of them was shot down. That was
when this war became real for me. 

Since then my squadron has been providing continuous
support for our engaged Marine brothers on the ground, by
this point slugging it out hand-to-hand in the city's
ancient Muslim cemetery. The Imam Ali shrine in Najaf is
the burial place of the prophet Muhammad's son-in-law, and
is one of the most revered sites in Shiite Islam. The
cemetery to its north is gigantic, filled with New
Orleans-style crypts and mausoleums. We had been warned it
was an "exclusion zone" when we got here, that the local
authorities had asked us to not go in there or fly
overhead, even though we knew the bad guys were using this
area to hide weapons, make improvised explosive devices,
and plan against us. Being the culturally sensitive force
we are, we agreed - until Aug. 5. Suddenly, I was
conducting support missions over the marines' heads in the
graveyard, dodging anti-aircraft artillery and
rocket-propelled grenades and preparing to be shot down,
too. My perspective broadened rapidly. 

At first there were no news media in Najaf; now, I assume,
it's getting crowded, although the authorities have
restricted access after a group of journalists "embedded"
with the Mahdi Militia muddied the problem and jeopardized
others' safety. I haven't had time to catch much CNN or Fox
News, and although I've seen a few headlines forwarded to
me by friends, I don't think the world is seeing the
complete picture. 

I want to emphasize that our military is using every means
possible to minimize damage to historical, religious and
civilian structures, and is going out of its way to protect
the innocent. I have not shot one round without good cause,
whether it be in response to machine gun fire aimed at me
or mortars shot at soldiers and marines on the ground. 

The battle has been surreal, focused largely in the
cemetery, where families continue burying their dead even
as I swoop in low overhead to make sure they aren't
sneaking in behind our forces' flanks, or pulling a
surface-to-air missile out of the coffin. Children continue
playing soccer in the dirt fields next door, and locals
wave to us as we fly over their rooftops in preparation for
gun runs into the enemy's positions. 

Sure, some of those people might be waving just to make
sure we don't shoot them, but I think the majority are on
our side. I've learned that this enemy is not just a mass
of angry Iraqis who want us to leave their country, as some
would have you believe. The forces we're fighting around
Iraq are a conglomeration of renegade Shiites, former
Baathists, Iranians, Syrians, terrorists with ties to Ansar
al-Islam and Al Qaeda, petty criminals, destitute citizens
looking for excitement or money, and yes, even a few
frustrated Iraqis who worry about Wal-Mart culture
infringing on their neighborhood. 

But I see the others who are on our side, appreciate us
risking our lives, and know we're in the right. The Iraqi
soldiers who are fighting alongside us are motivated to
take their country back. I've not been deluded into
thinking that we came here to free the Iraqis. That is
indeed the icing on the cake, but I came here to prevent
the still active "grave and gathering threat" from
congealing into something we wouldn't be able to stop. 

Weapons of mass destruction or no, I'm glad that we ended
the dictatorship of Saddam Hussein. My brother and other
American jet pilots risked their lives for years patrolling
the "no fly zone" (and occasionally making page A-12 in the
newspaper if they dropped a bomb on a threatening missile
battery). The former dictator's attempt to assassinate
George H. W. Bush, use of chemical weapons on his own
people, and invasion of a neighboring country are just a
few of the other reasons I believe we should have acted
sooner. He eventually would have had the means to cause
America great harm - no doubt in my mind. 

The pre-emptive doctrine of the current administration will
continue to be debated long after I'm gone, but one fact
stands for itself: America has not been hit with another
catastrophic attack since 9/11. I firmly believe that our
actions in Afghanistan and Iraq are major reasons that
we've had it so good at home. Building a "fortress America"
is not only impractical, it's impossible. Prudent homeland
security measures are vital, to be sure, but attacking the
source of the threat remains essential. 

Now we are on the verge of victory or defeat in Iraq.
Success depends not only on battlefield superiority, but
also on the trust and confidence of the American people.
I've read some articles recently that call for cutting back
our military presence in Iraq and moving our troops to the
peripheries of most cities. Such advice is well-intentioned
but wrong - it would soon lead to a total withdrawal. Our
goal needs to be a safe Iraq, free of militias and
terrorists; if we simply pull back and run, then the region
will pose an even greater threat than it did before the
invasion. I also fear if we do not win this battle here and
now, my 7-year-old son might find himself here in 10 or 11
years, fighting the same enemies and their sons. 

When critics of the war say their advocacy is on behalf of
those of us risking our lives here, it's a type of false
patriotism. I believe that when Americans say they "support
our troops," it should include supporting our mission, not
just sending us care packages. They don't have to believe
in the cause as I do; but they should not denigrate it.
That only aids the enemy in defeating us strategically. 

Michael Moore recently asked Bill O'Reilly if he would
sacrifice his son for Falluja. A clever rhetorical device,
but it's the wrong question: this war is about Des Moines,
not Falluja. This country is breeding and attracting
militants who are all eager to grab box cutters, dirty
bombs, suicide vests or biological weapons, and then come
fight us in Chicago, Santa Monica or Long Island. Falluja,
in fact, was very close to becoming a city our forces could
have controlled, and then given new schools and sewers and
hospitals, before we pulled back in the spring. Now,
essentially ignored, it has become a Taliban-like state of
Islamic extremism, a terrorist safe haven. We must not let
the same fate befall Najaf or Ramadi or the rest of Iraq. 

No, I would not sacrifice myself, my parents would not
sacrifice me, and President Bush would not sacrifice a
single marine or soldier simply for Falluja. Rather, that
symbolic city is but one step toward a free and democratic
Iraq, which is one step closer to a more safe and secure
America. 

I miss my family, my friends and my country, but right now
there is nowhere else I'd rather be. I am a United States
Marine. 

Glen G. Butler is a major in the Marines. 

http://www.nytimes.com/2004/08/23/opinion/23butler.html?ex=1094287303&ei=1&en=a5586dfbbcecf155


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