Holidays For The Troops

[Annie]

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THE FIGHT FOR IRAQ


A Holiday in Wartime
By GREG JAFFE, MICHAEL M. PHILLIPS and YOCHI DREAZEN
Staff Reporters of THE WALL STREET JOURNAL
December 23, 2005; Page W1

Writing from his position in Iraq, Capt. Noah Hanners says he and his troops will have no choice on Christmas Day but to carry out the normal yet dangerous tasks of an army at war. Still, Capt. Hanners is thinking about marking the holiday in his own quiet way: "Maybe I'll wear a Santa hat over my helmet on a patrol, to make my family smile when they see the pictures and to let them know what I was doing on Christmas Day."
[Capt. Noah Hanners]
Capt. Noah Hanners



For soldiers and Marines in Iraq and Afghanistan, Dec. 25 will mostly be just another workday, full of patrols, guard duty, raids and the distribution of aid to the local population.

It won't entirely be routine, however. Most soldiers, like their civilian counterparts working for the American Embassy and private contractors in Iraq, will call home over scratchy satellite-telephone connections. Others will catch glimpses of their loved ones via small webcams.

The Wall Street Journal asked a group of American soldiers and civilians stationed in Iraq to explain how they plan to spend this Sunday, and to reflect on the thoughts they'll carry inside as they do so. The Journal asked a few family members at home to do the same.

As the holiday weekend arrives for these families at war, the Pentagon is planning to do what it can to make Christmas more cheerful on the front lines. Halliburton Corp.'s KBR subsidiary, which provides the food and other services in American bases across Iraq, says its 60 dining facilities there will feature holiday decorations, ice sculptures, KBR staffers dressed as elves, carolers and photo booths where troops can have their pictures taken with Santa Claus.

Special meals will mark the occasion, courtesy of the Indian, Bangladeshi and Sri Lankan cooks who staff most of the dining halls. By day's end, KBR says, it will have served 150,000 pounds of turkey, 100,000 pounds of boneless ham, 85,000 pounds of stuffing, 85,000 pounds of mashed potatoes and 20,000 pounds of cranberry sauce. KBR also is organizing holiday activities including football-watching parties, movie marathons and rock 'n' roll talent shows. And four-star generals will be blowing through with holiday greetings and a few celebrities in tow, including the runner-up in the 2004 "American Idol" contest (Diana DeGarmo), comedian Reggie McFadden and country music singer Michael Peterson.

At home, the war is very much on the minds of Americans as they prepare to mark Christmas and the first night of Hanukkah on Sunday. That's true in large measure to this fall's debate about America's role in Iraq, as well as President Bush's unusual recent blitz of speeches and statements defending his war plans and explaining his vision for Iraq.

The debate is especially timely because an unusually high number of American forces are on duty now. To ensure security during Iraq's successful elections for a new government last week, American troop levels have ballooned to about 160,000 from about 148,000 a year ago. With the election past, the Pentagon now plans to start lowering that level to about 138,000 in the coming weeks. In Afghanistan, about 19,000 American soldiers and Marines are on duty, though that level also is expected to drop in coming weeks to about 16,500.

The upshot is that, for at least some soldiers, this Christmas on the front lines is a prelude to a trip home. But whether they're short-timers or facing a longer haul, those in the war zones will be thinking less about war debates and more about what is happening with their families back home. And back home, their families will be thinking the same in reverse, wondering how their loved ones are marking a special day so far away.

"During the Christmas service, we will ask our Lord to keep a special watch over Kurt's safety," says Diann Bellmont, 50, of Cold Spring, Minn. She plans to take pictures of her family around the Christmas tree and email them to her son, Marine Cpl. Kurt Bellmont, who is stationed in Ramadi. "Our son now is protecting us, when for 18 years we protected and helped make decisions for our son. Isn't it funny how life turns the tables?" (See full letter.)

Here are their messages, in their own words:

Maj. Robert Bateman

Age: 38. Assigned to the Multi-National Security Transition Command-Iraq, which is responsible for training and equipping the Iraqi Army and police forces.

So this is Christmas.

My "home" is one-half of a modified steel shipping container.

Holiday decorations-wise, there is not a whole lot that you can do with that. Mistletoe would only freak out my Georgia-born good ol' boy roommate "Rusty," and tinsel is not available. Moreover, in central Iraq it can be rather a bother to find even the smallest of pine trees. Accordingly, on Dec. 25 my trailer will look pretty much the way it looked on July 25, or Feb. 25 for that matter. My day will begin as every day does, with white steel walls, relieved only by a few pictures of my daughters and my fiancée, and a map of Baghdad.
[Maj. Robert Bateman]
Maj. Robert Bateman



Coffee, on Christmas morning, is what really starts my day. I head over to the headquarters where I work, doff my "battle rattle" and start in on my list of tasks. Within minutes three things will have occurred: I will notice that I have emails from my fiancée, but not from my children; I will see that my convoy through Baghdad for the next day is scheduled; and I will seek out my friend and sometime translator, Achmed.

I was 23 and an infantry platoon leader when the first Gulf War started. Achmed was the same age, and doing the same thing, on the other side. We both advanced in opposing armies -- though being a Shia, Achmed could not advance beyond a certain point in Saddam's Army. All of our adult lives we faced each other as enemies, though we did not know each other. Our lives were, however, parallel in ways. We both taught at our respective military academies, for example; I at West Point, he at Rustimayah. On April 9, 2003, Achmed was on his way to his post at the Iraqi military academy. Some of the lieutenants I trained doubtless led the American soldiers who shot his vehicle and cost him his arm. By the same token, some of those he trained have certainly been leading elements of the opposition these past two years. We find this amusing, in the dark humor common to soldiers of all armies.

We will sit down over a table with cigarettes. I will have coffee, Achmed will have tea. Achmed will talk about his two boys. I will talk about my three girls. I will explain an American Christmas, specifically as I knew it as a child in Northeastern Ohio, near the small town of Chagrin Falls. He will compare it to the "Feast," the celebrations that come at the end of Ramadan. We will smoke too many cigarettes. In comfortable silences we will think of a different life, and perhaps of a future when neither of us need carry our rifles anymore. Then I will return to work.

Chief Warrant Officer 3 John Wuensche

Age: 36. A Blackhawk helicopter pilot with the Army, based at Camp Taji, north of Baghdad.
[Chief Warrant Officer John Wuensche]
Chief Warrant Officer John Wuensche



As a medevac pilot, chances are I'll be waiting for a call to pick up a patient and take them to the hospital. Regardless of what day it is, getting that job done safely is the first priority. We have a company party scheduled for Christmas Day, so whether I'm on duty or off, I won't miss that. It's tempting to say that other than that there is nothing special scheduled, but since most of the folks in the unit are on their second tour to Iraq, and some of us are on our third, the Christmas Day party definitely qualifies as a family gathering and something special.

Perhaps the funny thing is for me -- and this is my second Christmas in a row here -- it will still feel like Christmas. I've done a little shopping online, which has been a nice distraction from the daily grind and helps to make it feel a little more like Christmas. We have a few artificial trees around the unit and some Christmas decorations, and that helps, too. I'll try to catch as many people by phone as I can. The hard phone calls have already been made -- the ones to family in the final days before deploying back to Iraq last September. The phone calls home now are almost always good ones for everyone.

I will miss the music, though. Growing up, through the changes in where we go and who we see on a given day, Christmas music has been always been a constant, whether it's Christmas Eve carols or a concert at church. I have some Christmas music on disc, but it's not quite the same. I've come closer to filling that void by learning to play the mountain dulcimer. I started last summer and by Christmas last year I had learned enough to partially fill that space left empty by the lack of Christmas music. This year, I've learned a few more songs, and that empty space will fill up a little more.

The best Christmas celebrations this year, though, will be for Jason, Toby, Saul and Shane. These guys were hit while flying a patient about a month ago. Jason, one of the pilots, was seriously wounded; he is already home doing fine. Toby and Shane should be home on leave. Saul will be here -- with this family -- for Christmas. Wherever they may be, our deployed family is still intact. Christmas doesn't get any better than that.

Lt. William F. Dorr

Age: 24. Based at Camp Buehring, Kuwait.

Each day in the operation Iraqi Freedom theater passes in the same manner. On Dec. 25, 2005, my unit begins the wash-rack phase of redeployment back to our home station. This Christmas, instead of washing dishes after a holiday meal, I will be washing trucks, trailers and generators. I will sport a desert camouflage uniform, waterproof "rain-gear," rubber over-boots, helmet, and a safety reflective belt -- quite a change of pace from my usual holiday attire, dress slacks and a cashmere sweater over a shirt and tie. So, while I will be able to call home on the "special" day for those back home, I will be doing so after being wet, cold, and tired after spraying down trucks. Upon first hearing the news, I was disappointed at the thought of spending the holiday season working 12-plus hour days and spraying down equipment to remove sand.

After some thought, however, I decided a day was really just a day while deployed. It does not matter that it will be Christmas Day -- what matters is that we are in the redeployment phase and will soon be reunited with our friends and families. Christmas can and will be celebrated in January. Christmas will not be truly Christmas. However, it will mean one less day remaining here in the desert.

I'm sure the dining facility will make a meal better than the average. Additionally, there will be a plethora of green and red decorations to brighten up the desert tan. All these changes from the normal monotonous activities that are required during a deployment are enjoyed by my soldiers and me.

In my battalion the morale is high this holiday season, but I am not sure if that is the euphoric feeling of going home soon, or the customary holiday cheer spreading among the soldiers. The optimist in me likes to think it is both.

Capt. Noah Hanners

Age: 26. Commander of a 30-soldier platoon in Tal Afar, Iraq.

Christmas is a bittersweet time in Iraq. It brings the same feelings of numbness and distance that come with each holiday spent away from home. I'll celebrate with the rest of the soldiers in our troop at our base in downtown Tal Afar. We'll continue our normal missions throughout the day, delivering humanitarian aid with the help of the Iraqi Army and police. We'll probably conduct a raid or two in search of terrorists. Maybe I'll wear a Santa hat over my helmet on a patrol to make my family smile when they see the pictures and to let them know what I was doing on Christmas Day.

My fellow soldiers and I will enjoy each other's company, we'll laugh and joke, but we'll be celebrating more to feel a connection to home and our families. We'll have a Christmas tree and lights but they won't compare to those at home. We'll have a big, traditional Christmas dinner but we'll be eating with plastic silverware on a shaky, plywood table.

I'll find a quiet place and open packages sent by family and friends, but they won't mean as much without my family there to join in the surprise and without my brother and sister to throw the balled-up wrapping paper at. I'll look through the pictures and letters I've accumulated through the deployment remembering how much each of the people means to me. I'll wonder how the guys with young children at home have made it through the deployment. More than once I'll question why we couldn't (go home) just a month or two earlier.

I'll pray throughout the day for the health of the soldiers in our troop who have been sent home with wounds.

 

[Annie]

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Mary Jo Vermilyea

Age: 55. Living in Ironton, Ohio, and the mother of Marine Lance Cpl. James Hopper, stationed in Ramadi, Iraq.

While I still view my son Jimmy as the gentle boy with lots of spirit, he is now carrying an M16 and living in the desert. This is Jimmy's second tour in Iraq. I must say it has been one of the hardest times of my life. I cannot explain how many countless nights I watched the clock fall into the morning hours. A certain amount of sleeplessness is expected when you are a parent. But things like missed curfews and oppositional behavior are nothing compared to roadside bombs and Sunni militia. I turn the news on, and then turn it off because it only worries me. But then I turn it on again because I cannot stand not knowing what is going on.
[Lance Corporal James Hopper]
Lance Cpl. James Hopper



Jimmy became a father during this deployment. His wife, Fhara, gave birth to their daughter, Zoie, on Dec. 4. And now it is Christmas. This is the first time my son will not be home for Christmas. He will not be here for the Christmas Mass, or the huge breakfast we have on Christmas morning. He will be gone for his daughter's first Christmas.

Over the past couple of months I have taken the task of becoming Santa for my son's platoon. I have raised money, collected donations and begged, borrowed and pleaded to get these men Christmas gifts. When it was all said and done, it was proven that my town supports the troops. I have sent out over 50 packages to our military overseas.

You ask how I feel during this experience and how I am going to get through it. Well, I am angry that I have to have sleepless nights and that I jump every time the doorbell rings for fear that two Marines will be standing there. I am sad that my son will not have Christmas with his family this year. I am scared every single minute of every single day, I grieve with the parents who have lost their children and, in saying all that, I am the proudest I have ever been of my son. What more can a mother be proud of when her son is fulfilling his dreams of helping others and protecting his country?

Lt. Col. Tony Pfaff

Age: 41. Based in Baghdad's Green Zone, where he works with Iraqi police.

It is tempting to pity the soldier away from home during the holidays. If that pity motivates sending care packages filled with goodies and DVDs, I'm all for it. Still, I believe that pity is misplaced. If this is the season of giving, then soldiering, perhaps, provides one with the best opportunities to celebrate. This is my second consecutive Christmas away from home, but each time I've been able to enjoy the benefits of service and friendship that embody the spirit of the Christmas season.

As for me, I always find Christmas Day deployed something of an anticlimax and, as a result, I tend not to do anything "special." I have little self-control, so I will have already opened up all the presents anyone has sent me. I'll attend the chapel service, of course. I will also shamelessly enjoy the Christmas dinner the dining facility will provide -- arguably the best food of the year -- and then later hit the gym in a futile attempt to work it off.

During my first Christmas away from home, the first Gulf War in 1991, I had a five-minute chat with my wife on the small field telephone before we lost the connection. This year I'll be able to talk to my family via cellphone and receive pictures of frantic present-opening via email. So my presence, while not in body, will at least be more than simply in spirit. And my absence, while deeply felt, will permit me to share the most important of Christmas messages: service to others in the interest of peace.

Capt. Jerry Moon

Age: 35. Soldier with the 101st Airborne Division based in central Iraq.

As I gather my thoughts and the realization sets in that I will be spending another Christmas away from home, the fourth in the past five years, I am surprisingly upbeat. I am thankful for many things this year, but mostly I am humbled by that which surrounds me. You see, while I am unable to spend this joyous season at home with my family and friends, I still consider myself blessed to be able to spend time with friends and family of a different sort -- my fellow deployed soldiers.

As a leader of soldiers, I am responsible for the morale and welfare of nearly a hundred of the best "kids" America has to offer. However, the truth is I often find it is their optimistic and enthusiastic disposition which recharges my batteries. These are soldiers who despite personal longings to be with their own families continue to serve their nation during her time of need. Perhaps what is most remarkable is they continue to do it holiday after holiday with little or no regard for their own personal comfort or safety. Many will spend a portion of their Christmas day out on patrol, manning a guard tower, or pulling another detail in order to afford their subordinate soldiers a few minutes of down time for what we all hope to be an uneventful day.

So this year I will again be surrounded by so many like me, in my home away from home, in the form of a tent barricaded on all sides by sandbags for protection from the ever-present mortar threat; however, I will likewise be surrounded by the friendship, camaraderie and esprit de corps found only within our ranks.

Calvin Crane

Age: 59. Regional Public Affairs Coordinator for the U.S. Embassy in Iraq.

I'll attend Mass on Christmas Eve and think about the real meaning of this time and loved ones in America. A big box from my wife and the three children still at home arrived recently. My nightstand is now a makeshift tree stand with a tree from home and the carefully wrapped gifts arranged all around. The plan is to hang the phone and open them one-by-one with the kids listening in... after they've opened theirs of course!

Capt. Chanda I. Mofu

Age: 30. An Army captain in transit to Iraq for a second tour.

I spent my last Christmas Day waking up a bit later, about 0800. I found at my door a stocking from my boss. He is a good man and made my first Christmas away from my family better. At the time I was responsible for 80 soldiers, so I spent some of the day stopping by their barracks space and wishing them happy holidays.

As a company commander, this year I will do probably the same thing -- visit everybody, and not expect elves to drop off a stocking worth of goodies. It will be a day of rest with some prayer. I'd like to have some time alone to thank my wife, Laura, and children for allowing me to stay in my profession that has kept us away during this holiday season. She hasn't asked for much in our marriage and that is the least I can do for her this year. Laura sent a box, I don't know what it is. I don't think she bought me the 60-gigabyte iPod, but that's OK. Maybe we can buy it when I return. I hope she enjoys the North Face Fleece I got her last week.

Anne Bodine

Age: 46. A Foreign Service officer who has spent much of her career working in and on the Middle East. She's currently serving as media-development officer in the U.S. Embassy in Baghdad.

I reside in the unsafe land of the Euphrates, so this Christmas I give thanks to the winds of good fortune that have kept me and my friends and colleagues here safe. I will also remember at Christmas those who were not blessed by fortune and gave their lives in this land for their own.

Christmas helps us comprehend the idea that miracles can bring peace. Here there are daily miracles for peace. Everyone who stops to think for long knows this much: When we take stock at year's end, we remember that our miracles come in mundane doses -- a 9-year boy named Hussein from the Shurta al Rabia' district of Baghdad, who was severely burned in a rocket attack and who wants nothing more than to go back to school; the artist Dhia al-Khuzai, whose abstract, luxuriant paintings brighten my days in the office and give me hope that Iraq's rich culture will prevail over intolerance and violence; the pious Muslim woman, my friend, who had the courage to ask a man directly why he would not shake hands with her, and whose peaceful challenge changed his mind; the interpreter who came to work the day after his army-officer brother was killed while patrolling to enforce Baghdad's election-day curfew; the journalist who was threatened for denouncing slander against candidates, and his colleague who was equally scorned for polls that critiqued Iraq's government.

Such events are unprecedented and take courage in today's Iraq. And courage is the thing that can effect miracles for peace.

In my view, Christmas spirit should encompass understanding, grace and charity. My work here gives me a chance to infuse those same concepts back into the civic discourse in Iraq. There's no better defense against those rockets that still land in our compound.

Rima Vydmantas

Age: 48. A first-tour Foreign Service officer. She is the assistant information officer at the U.S. Embassy in Baghdad.

I wasn't even supposed to be here.

My first assignment ever for the State Department was taking me to northern Europe, but fate intervened. The person going to Baghdad as assistant information officer was unable to fulfill that duty and I wound up volunteering (yes, we are all volunteers -- no one forces us to serve in Iraq).

I am not sorry I came to Baghdad. I'm living and working here during an extremely important period in history: elections, the change to a democratic society, the reconstruction of Iraq. The Iraqis I have met are some of the nicest and most generous people ever -- and the bravest (as are our military forces).

I'm learning that the complaints I have about the things that go wrong in my life are nothing compared to the daily dangers my Iraqi co-workers face: Just coming to work is a huge difficulty. Not only do most of them have to keep their jobs a secret from families and friends, but they also stand in line for hours, waiting to get into the International Zone (aka the Green Zone).

A lot of my friends keep asking me if it's true that Christmas Day will be a workday for me -- it may be (as many Christmases were in my previous career). It is, of course, different and maybe more difficult this Christmas, because I am so far away from my family and friends (and dogs). But it's only one season out of my whole life -- and is that really so much to ask of me? Besides, I will be spending Christmas with new friends -- friends who I hope become part of a special Baghdad bond for life. It will be a day of playing board games and cards (maybe they'll let me win "Trivial Pursuit" for once!) and dessert visits -- several of us plan to sample each other's "stashes" from our CARE packages!

And, when all is said and done, the fulfillment one feels here in getting something accomplished (especially if one is feeling low) -- well, it's indescribable. I am not sorry I came to Baghdad!

Capt. Phillip Carter

Age: 30. An Army Reserve captain and attorney with McKenna Long & Aldridge LLP in Los Angeles, is serving in Iraq with the Army's 101st Airborne Division.

Most soldiers here have spent at least one holiday away from home. My first came in 1998 during my tour in Korea; a number of the soldiers here spent Christmas 2003 in Iraq (their first 12-month tour).
[Capt. Phillip Carter]
Capt. Phillip Carter



Unfortunately, the war doesn't stop for Christmas. Just as on any other day, soldiers will pull guard duty, man command posts and go out on missions. Still, my unit is planning to make this day as special as possible. One of my reserve soldiers works as a chef back home. We're putting his culinary skills to work by having him prepare a Christmas feast. The officers and senior sergeants will pull guard shift for our junior soldiers, and we will also serve the meal. This is a tradition observed in most U.S. Army units around the world, but it has special meaning here in combat because it gives us (as leaders) a tangible way to thank our soldiers. Our unit's chaplain will hold services for the soldiers who want to attend. We're also planning a small party with holiday cookies, music and decorations sent from home.

Many of us have gotten holiday packages from home already. Some have survived intact with promises to open them on Christmas Day; most have not. While every gift is special, the most precious gift is communication. We treasure most the phone calls, letters, packages and emails we get from home.

There's so much I want to tell my family about this place, but so much I don't want to tell them, too. In some ways, this deployment is tougher on my family than on me; I know when I am in danger and when I am safe, but my family has to speculate, relying on my word and what they learn from the news. With a little luck, I'll get to call home on Christmas and tell my family that I'm doing just fine.

Diann Bellmont

Diann Bellmont, 50, of Cold Spring, Minn., is the mother of Marine Cpl. Kurt Bellmont, stationed in Ramadi, Iraq.

Our son now is protecting us, when for 18 years we protected and helped make decisions for our son. Isn't it funny how life turns the tables? Kurt enlisted in December 2001 and is now on his third tour of duty in Iraq. He made this career choice to protect his loved ones from terrorists who invaded our country by attacking the World Trade Center and our way of life on Sept. 11, 2001. We are very proud of him and his choice to serve his country.

But celebrating Christmas without our son will be difficult. During the Christmas service we will ask Our Lord to keep a special watch over Kurt's safety and well-being. We ask this for all our military service personnel. After the service, we will check out the Christmas lights in our neighborhood. We will take pictures of each of us around the Christmas tree to send to Kurt via email. Hopefully we will be able to instant message with him on the computer. We know he is sad to be separated from family during the Christmas season. But we know he is proud to do his share for his country. We truly believe that our Lord God will protect and keep our son Kurt safe.