Things Fall Apart

“Well, I still get to call you CPT Few for now. After a year of therapy I have reached normal for the recall skills of someone who has suffered from a traumatic brain injury (TBI) which simply means that I am an average retard person. I still have consistent headaches, dizziness, vomiting, and photophobia. On top of all that, I am still kicking myself in the ass for leaving the mission. That has been one of the hardest things for me to handle. I was finally doing what I had spent my adult life training to do, and I left before I was finished.”
-Wounded Paratrooper

“You stole my past, my present, and my future.”
-Female school teacher in Zaganiyah to SSG Joshua Kinser (A/5-73 Recon), July 2007.


January 2007.* I walked up and down that road.* Inside, I challenged God.* I screamed at him to take my life.* Let them be.* I pleaded with him to let these boy’s go home to see their families.* *I tempted fate.* Allah did not listen.

Everyone was scared.* We were walking into unknown territory. No one wanted to go down that road, but it was the only way.* It was the only path to Turki Village.* Every twenty meters or so, the road would explode, and I would lose another man.* We’d stop, begin treatment, call the air medevac, and wait.

The road was scattered with plastic double-stacked Italian anti-tank mines.* They were dug deep into the ground, and we had no way to identify them.* I tried mine plows, mine detectors, explosive ordinance disposal teams, and bulldozers.* Nothing worked.

We didn’t know what Traumatic Brain Injuries (TBIs) were at that time; however, deep inside me, I knew.* I watched my boys’ minds fade away.* They were simply gone.* They could not even count from one to ten.* They couldn’t remember anything.* I knew this decision would haunt me for the rest of my life.* I knew, and I didn’t care.* We had to go to Turki Village, and I decided I would get there if it cost me everything.

I didn’t know what to do, but I knew everyone was watching me.* I was commanding over 200 men: Americans and Iraqi Kurds, tankers, scouts, infantry, field artillery, and engineers.* I did the only thing that I could think of- I got pissed off, tempted fate, and walked up and down the road to encourage my men.*

*We had just left a village.* I can’t remember the name of it, but it scared me.** I was no longer easily scared.* The village was completely empty.* Al Qaeda had cleansed it.* A week later, a tribal sheik would show me the video of the bodies on his cell phone, but I already knew.* They had drug out everyone-men, women, and children, and they summarily executed them in the canals.* There were at least 100 people in this village.* Now, it was empty.

Al Qaeda had set up a command and control center in the town’s square.* They used the roof to observe us as we came down the road.* We were able to kill most of the reconnaissance elements, but two escaped by low crawling through the brush.* I ordered my men to burn the brush.* We would finally catch up with those men two days later.* They would not survive.

Inside the command and control center, there was a communications room, sleeping area, medical station, and torture room.* On the radio, I was asked repeatedly how I knew it was a torture room.* I was frustrated trying to articulate what we were seeing.* My higher headquarters wanted pictures and video tape for exploitation.* Moose started laughing.* He walked into the torture room, licked his finger, touched the stained wall, tasted it, and said, “Yep, sir, it’s blood.”* I nearly fell over laughing.* That story was amusing to tell to my boss.*

We found an underground tunnel network extending around the compound.* The design was pretty innovative- it appeared to be bomb-proof.*

Throughout the town, signs were placed on the doors- “Apostates-You are Rejecters of the Faith- you will die.”*

The villagers’ crime was being Shia.

After a long series of discussions all the way up to the division commander about collateral damage, we were finally given the authority to destroy the command and control center.* As we moved back onto the road, an F-16 dropped a 500 pound bomb.* In some ways, I thought maybe this would make it better.


The War Machine rumbled south towards Turki Village.* We would make this right.*