Human Costs…
By
Winter Soldier & Resister
Released from MCAS Miramar Brig 07/09/2009
4 July 2009 - Five days prior to Freedom
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Wow what a journey the last four years have been. I started 2005 in a place I did not want to be. I was trapped between military commitment & moral convictions. By mid year, I had refused deployment to Iraq and followed the military resisters and draft dodgers of the 60’s & 70’s, north to Canada. I left with a backpack, sleeping bag, $600 and no idea what I was doing. I knew absolutely no one and my plans were limited to where I would sleep and where I would get my next meal. I followed my intuition and it lead me to Nelson, BC. ………
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There, I met a group of 5 travelers, doing a documentary on societies waste and dumpster diving. A strong urge to follow them led me to: live in a 130 foot old growth cedar tree in Cathedral Grove, to keep the giant beauties from being cut down for a parking lot, so people could park and look at rare old growth cedars. The irony: go figure.
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Then I hitchhiked from Toffino in Vancouver, BC, to Cape Spear, New Foundland. I hopped freight trains across the Great Lakes region from Thunder Bay in Ontario to Montreal, Quebec. I saw country most people don’t get to see any more. Then, just south of Toronto in Guelph, I met the future mother of my child, Renee, who joined our group. We traveled together to the East Coast. With her, I lived in the bush at a Rainbow Gathering, in northern Quebec, then came back to civilization and stayed at the Quebec Hilton, to meet her Mom. And then; back to the bush again. What a contrast…..
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We lived in Mount Royal Park in Montreal, while our group of now 20 travelers hustled and worked to get money to buy a bus, to travel back West for the winter. I learned to spin fire from circus performers, Outside in the gazebo in the park we all got soaked by the tail end of Katrina. When we finally got the bus we made it livable, we ripped out the seats, put in hammocks and couches, then converted it to run on waste vegetable oil, the kind you find out behind restaurants.
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Renee and I lived two hard Canadian winters in Marathon, Ontario, on the most northern tip of Lake Superior. You don’t know cold til you lived there- minus 40 for months at a time.
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I applied for political refugee status & became legal in Canada. I got work teaching post High School students from all across Canada how to cook, reduce, reuse, and recycle. I also showed them how to express themselves artistically and was a mentor in a program called Katimivak, which means “meeting place” in Inuit. I helped run sweat lodges and learned about Native spirituality from two Ojibway elders of the First Nations people at the Pic River Reserve.
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I hitchhiked to BC from Ontario, some 2000+ miles in the dead of winter, to see a fiend who had a tragedy happen. I apprenticed at an organic farm. I learned animal husbandry, and became a master gardener. I worked in exchange for organic veggies, meat, and knowledge…….
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Renee and I had a child at home, and named him Ocean. His birth was the most amazing thing I have ever had the privilege of being a part of. He is such a smart, caring, and sensitive boy, it’s his generation that will change the world for the better, and I can only hope that I can be a shining example to him of humanity.
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As another way of protesting the war I gave up fossil fuels. I bought a ’82 VW Vanagon diesel & converted it to run on waste veggie oil. I worked for a Victorian home specialty moving company. I grew Dreadlocks. I was arrested by Immigration in 2007 while I was working for the summer in the West. I was eventually let go but the circumstances of my arrest and required probation was fishy, and unfair, and kept me in BC away from my family. I was then arrested again under fishy circumstances, by Immigration on July 4, 2008. Coincidence? I think not.
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Since my arrest, I have been the first Iraq era resister to be deported. I have been through a Court Martial. I have been jailed: I have been in 16 cells in 8 facilities, in 3 states and 2 countries. I watched the Olympics, I watched the protests at the DNC and RNC. I saw Barack Obama become the first African-American President, I celebrated my son’s second and third birthdays, my 25th Christmas, Thanksgivings, two 4th of Julys. I missed my childs important development into being a toddler. The “terrific two’s”- what a magical time. I missed seeing his eyes light up on Christmas morning, at the box his gift came in and the hours playing with said box. I missed the first time he could count to 10, or recite his ABC’s or name colors. And the first time he drew a picture on the wall. I missed countless belly-aching laughing sessions. I missed being able to read him bedtime stories……
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Instead of being woken by him jumping on my bed, I was woken by reveille, reveille. Every morning, when I looked out my window, I saw high fences and razor wire. I was locked in a facility where 85% are sexual offenders. I had to make sure someone wouldn’t steal pictures of Ocean. I had to be part of a facility that caters to sexual predators. This punishment was for having a moral disagreement to an unjust war. It was a constant reminder of the past 8 years of attacks on our civil liberties and rights. I was punished for the most basic right, freedom of speech. For being outspoken about the War and the Commander in Chief. After aggravating evidence prosecution presented to the judge- a video of me exercising my freedom of speech-she recommended 30 months. I was given a 15 month sentence that was my pre trial agreement. I have been given a Dishonorable Discharge, the worst grade of discharge, reserved only for the very worst military offenders. And for the politically outspoken……
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Most people who go AWOL receive administrative discharges and spend 30 days in the brig. I had no criminal record prior to this and I am now a felon. This has put tons of restrictions on my future. I am barred from Canada because of a right wing Bush supporting Administration. I try not to think of it but there may come a time when Renee won’t be able to care for Ocean on her own because of her affliction with MS. She will need the help of her family in Canada and me. And the moral choice I made will hurt my young family. ALL this because I did not want to contribute in the killings of an unjust war and occupation.
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I was visited by two Canadian Members of Parliament, had an essay I wrote read in a session of Parliament, that same essay was published in
The Veteran. I made the front page of many newspapers, all while locked up. Now, twelve months and a couple of days later, I’ve been released and my journey has just begun. I’m so excited for the rest of my life.
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During this whole time, the war in Iraq and the less reported war in Afghanistan have been going on. It’s still going on. “Defence contractors” and the war machine are still getting rich, while service members are underpaid for the work they are doing. Their families are falling apart; they are stretched to the max. They hate being killed, returning home with PTSD, missing limbs, and to empty homes. The suicide rate is at an all time high.
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The contract I signed was to support and defend the Constitution of the United States, from all enemies foreign and domestic, and obey the lawful orders of the President and those officers appointed over me. I did not sign my name or swear an oath to be a strong-arm for corporate interests or oil. The so called Liberation of Iraq has turned into nothing more than a constant and protracted struggle for the people of Iraq against forces seen and unseen. Forces which are trying to force their will upon the Iraqi people, in a public war for private power and profit.
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Our young men and womens’ sense of patriotism and loyalty to each other have been preyed upon and they have been given to believe that they are fighting for freedom and democracy. True freedom is the ultimate expression and condition of a people to control their own destiny, not the manufactured variety being offered here. True democracy isn’t found in the barrel of a gun; it rises up from within the masses. Many are fighting to get home, and get their brothers in arms home. Shame on the policy makers for this deception at the cost of the troops.
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The world is looking at the US in a much different way now, because our leaders started a war of aggression in Iraq. It has set a horrible precedent. Our service members are feeling the ill effects of this new perception. Many in the service don’t see the bigger picture, or all the lies. All THEY see is their brothers in arms, to their left and right, and are just trying to get each other home. Many will see how wrong this war is, some will refuse service, others will feel the obligation to their fellow soldiers and fight for all they’re worth. Some will question orders. Some will refuse orders. But, we are equally heroic.
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As members of the peace movement, we need to support our troops, and insure they know they have options and support in whatever they decide to do. We need to inform & mobilize the general public, to put pressure on the government to stop imprisoning resisters and start allowing other ways out of the military, and stop needless public wars for private power and profit. Peace is achieved thru compassion, compromise, and understanding. We cant show prejudice, terrorize and persecute an entire race and culture- it will only ensure the next generation of “terrorists”.
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I’m sure we are tired of hearing about the monetary cost, the economic ad political costs of war. It’s the human costs that need to be understood and talked about. What is this costing our sons and daughters? What about fellow humans abroad? It needs to stop! We have become a nation OF war- there can be no excuses, illusions or confusion: just look at what we are spending your money on.
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Only a fraction would pay for every Americans health care.
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A military is a necessary evil in the world as we know it now, but our service members are being exploited in an unnecessary war. Bring them home. Don’t be fooled- just saying all combat troops are pulling out of Iraq doesn’t mean we are leaving. Our troops are now being called the same thing they were in Viet Nam: ”advisors”. 30 huge permanent bases in Iraq- we are not leaving anytime soon. Unless we all speak up.
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Remember this, no matter what color our skin, we all bleed red. No matter our religions, we all have brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers, sons and daughters. No matter our language, we all have tears, fears, smiles, and prayers. We laugh the same language, we cry the same language. We are the same, co-existence is possible. Together we are strong and we can manifest peace. Two fingers raised for peace will be our V for victory… (Photo: Fellow Resistor,
Sgt. Travis Bishop, under guard and shackled) - Ft Hood 08/09)
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I’d like to thank a few people that got me through the past four years. Thanks to the Abundance bus crew. Dave and Chantal, of Dalew Farms, the kids of Katimivak, and Phil. Thanks to my friends Paul D, Jade, Bradley Klaus, Debbie & Kim. Thanks to Claire, Mark, and Yvonne, and Bonnie for letting me stay in their homes. Thanks to Proddy and Collette of the First Nation People, for their spiritual guidance, and for allowing me to participate so intimately in their sweat lodges. Thanks to Bob Ages for bailing me out of jail. Thanks to my lawyer and friend James Branum. Thanks to my Canadian lawyers Jeffery House and Sheppard Moss. Lee Zaslofsky and Michelle Robbideux of the WRSC. Jeff Patterson. Also Buff and Cindy for letting me call them any time and for taking care of my finances. And everyone at
CTR for providing me with such a kick ass lawyer. Thanks to the
San Diego Chapter of
VFP, for all of their extra mile support for my family and my case, financially, emotionally, and otherwise. Thanks to
IVAW,
VVAW,
Military Families Speak Out,
VetSpeak, Code Pink, and the Quakers. Thanks to countless volunteers and people who showed up at vigils. Thanks to Candian MP”s Oliva Chow & Boris who came to visit me in the Brig, and MP Alex Atemanenko. Thanks to John Ellison of the CO Project, and Jerry Condon. And thanks to resisters Ryan Johnson, Patrick Hart, Jeremy Hinzman, and Ethren Watada. A big thanks to the music and writing of Micheal Franti whose influences played a huge role in my decisions and outlook of the world he opened my eyes to a lot.
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And special thanks to my adopted Mom, Dawn Obrien of MFSO, and Pat Garrison. And to my friends Jan Ruhman and Mutt, of the
San Diego VVAW, for coming to visit me most Sundays at the brig. And thanks to the mother of my child Renee.
x PEACE OUT
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