The Best Damn Email I Have Ever Recieved

Dear Sergeant Kokesh,

I just wanted to drop you a line and let you know that I support you and your actions from the bottom of my heart. I enlisted in the Marine Corps out of a desire to do my civic duty and help America be a better place. Instead I have found myself a pawn to the Bush administration's ignorant, gluttonous, and uncaring fiscal goals.

Like you, I continue to believe that the Marine Corps is a decent and wholesome organization. It helps boys become men. However, I have come to realize it also turns boys into cattle, to feed a third parties profit. I have several years left on my contract, and I wonder daily when my number will come up.

Please, never lose faith, and continue to fight the good fight. You've got fellow Marines depending on you.

LCpl XXXXXXX



Just so it's clear, this young Marine did include his name, location, and unit in the email, but requested that they not be published online. This is the kind of Marine the peace movement needs to be reaching out to. They are out there. I replied that is was not just heartening to hear that he supports me, but that the sentiments IVAW is expressing are shared by those who are still among "the troops." I hope that this email will be a galvanizing force in the movement, even if that is only the veterans movement. I intend to frame it and hang it next to my door when I get a door to hang it by.

Chris Capps Joins the Crew in Germany!

Chris Capps, a fellow IVAW member who I first met at our east coast strategy retreat, joined us on our tour yesterday after an interesting adventure with the Army. He even gave a statement at the press conference. Here is the email he sent to his friends describing what happened:

This is Chris Capps. Last tuesday I turned myself in at Ft. Sill Oklahoma
from being a deserter. Friday I was finshed outprocessing out of the army. I
have been placed on indefinite unpaid leave until they mail me my DD-214. I
am now in Ansbach germany helping the peace movement here.

-chris capps

Chris Capps is an Iraq veteran and deserted to avoid deployment to Afghanistan. Technically, a member of the US Military can be sentenced to death for desertion, but it hasn't happened in decades. It's true, the Army is getting soft! But his story serves as an important example of how easy it can be for troops to get out with reasonable punishment. We are glad to have him back in the real world.

An Important Message to the People of Germany

Three members of IVAW, Jeff Englehart, Thomas Cassidy, and myself, are currently touring Germany to spread the message of IVAW, reach out to American active duty personnel, and support the German peace movement. Of particular interest is the community movement in Ansbach to stop the expansion of the US Army base there. Darnell Stephen Summers of the Stop the War Brigade, an international veterans peace organization based in Germany, organized the trip.

On the morning of Thursday, the 10 of May, after spending all night packing all my earthly belongings into my Bronco, I caught a bus from DC to New York to catch a flight to Frankfurt. It was only right before boarding that I got to meet Tom and Jeff. I had the pleasure of wearing my new “We Will Not Be Silent” t-shirt, which was supplied by Artists Against the War. This is their traditional t-shirt that says, “we will not be silent” in Arabic, and then underneath in English in small letters. This has particular relevance to the history of the Nazi Party. If you are not familiar with the story behind these t-shirts, please read the story here.

After a long flight, we arrived in Frankfurt and were met by Darnell and Rudi Friedrich of Connection E.V., which supports international war resistors and has been instrumental in organizing our trip. We then took a train to his home in Offenbach and spent most of the day planning and strategizing for the tour.

That evening we kicked off our tour with an appearance at an underground punk show in Frankfurt featuring Scheisse Minnelli and Christ on Parade. Meike Schubert coordinated the event. The concert was held literally underground in a vast cold storage cellar that had been used as a bomb shelter during World War II. I even got to have my picture taken by a sign that was spray-painted onto the bricks where there was an airlock for gas attacks. We got to meet a number of active duty soldiers stationed in Heidelberg. Most were decidedly anti-war, and one in particular described his friends as his anti-war crew of “about three squads.” I see an IVAW chapter waiting to happen.

The next day we got on a train to Ansbach, but for an unrevealed reason, the track was blocked, and after an hour we had to turn around and go back to Frankfurt, then take a circuitous route that got us to Ansbach at about nine. We met Boris Meyer, of the Ansbach Peace Coaltion, and Vice Chairman of the citizen action group, Enough is Enough, who took us to the home of our host in Ansbach, Jurgen Wangler, where we had a reception and a BBQ.

That evening we went to Darnell’s favorite hangout in Ansbach, Gazebo Billiards, which is a popular hangout for American troops stationed here. After making good on my promise to beat Darnell silly at the pool table, I got to meet with a number of soldiers who were grappling with their upcoming deployments to Iraq. One of them wanted to challenge me to a game of pool and wanted to bet drinks, so I told him if he won I would buy him a drink, but if he won, he had to read our IVAW pamphlet. I won.

Talking to these guys wasn’t easy, but most of our discussions ended with me telling them that if they go to Iraq, they should only do so after making an informed decision and having “done your homework first.” They all seemed to take that to heart.

Today we got to sleep in and Tom and Jeff went to Nuremburg for the day to revisit their old stomping grounds. I am the only one in our group who has not been stationed in Germany. I stayed back to translate our statement for the press conference tomorrow and continue planning with Boris. The advanced text of that statement is here below:

Statement for Press Conference 070514

We are Iraq Veterans Against the War. My name is Adam Kokesh and I served in Fallujah from February to September of 2004 with a Marine Corps Civil Affairs Team. Tom Cassidy served in Ba’qubah from February 2004 to February 2005 as a battalion logistics coordinator with the First Infantry Division. Jeff Englehart served in Ba’qubah from February 2004 to February 2005 as a Cavalry Scout with the First Infantry Division.

Iraq Veterans Against the War has three objectives. First and foremost, bring the troops home now. And when we say the troops, we mean all the troops. It doesn’t matter if they’re wearing an Army uniform, a Marine Corps uniform, a Navy uniform, an Air Force uniform, a Bechtel uniform, a CACI uniform, a Blackwater uniform, a KBR uniform, or a god-damned Halliburton uniform. And when we say now, we don’t mean six months from now, or eighteen months from now, or fifty years from now. Now means now.

Second, take care of the troops when they get home. Support the troops means support the veterans. We have troops returning from Iraq with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Traumatic Brain Injury, missing limbs, and depleted uranium poisoning. The US government refuses to acknowledge the problems associated with depleted uranium, and troops cannot get tested. Of the 1.5 million veterans of Iraq and Afghanistan, only one fourth of them have left the military and we are already seeing the inadequacies of the Department of Veterans Affairs. And there is no plan to accommodate the other three quarters. And yet the President of the United States still claims to support the troops.

Third, pay reparations to the Iraqi people. America owes them a debt, which we will never be able to repay. But we can try to put this behind us by acknowledging what we have done, apologizing, and attempting to make amends.

We are here to reach out to active duty members of the United States military stationed in Germany and let them know what they can do to help stop the US occupation of Iraq. Soldiers need to know that when they decide to resist, they will have the support and thanks of the global moral majority.

We are also here to support the German peace movement. As in the United States, protestors are often dismissed as ignorant and childish, but with the voices of veterans backing them up, they have the credibility they deserve. It is clear that real change will not come from your government or ours, but rather from the righteous voice of compassion.

The people of Ansbach have chosen to stand up not only to the imperialism of the United States, but also their own country’s history of complicity. The US military has long chosen its own tactical advantage over the consideration of the people in the communities that it affects and claims to protect. It is sad that it has taken so long for Germans to make this stand, but we support them in their opposition.

Germany has long been complicit in America’s aggression. There is no longer any valid premise for the vast American presence in this country. It is not for your security or benefit, but supposedly for the benefit of America, and it is not in the world’s best interest. The lesson of World War II should not be to remain silent during the next war of aggression.

In the words of Dante Alighieri, “The hottest layers of hell are reserved for those who in times of great moral crises maintain their neutrality.

On behalf of all peace loving people of the world, wir shweigen nicht!

DC IVAW House

May 9, 2007

Dear Friend of Iraq Veterans Against the War,

As a regular speaker on behalf of IVAW, I am often asked, “What can I do to help stop the war?” At first, this was a difficult question for me to answer, as I was still struggling to find my voice as a veteran. But there are a multitude of things any compassionate American can do to help stop the war in Iraq. I always tell people, first and foremost: show up. You can’t stop a war from your couch. Second, spread the word. Don’t be afraid to speak your mind. Third, reach out to the troops that you know, let them know that you support them and will continue to do so even if they decide to resist the illegal and immoral occupation for which they are being asked to fight.

For those of you who are tired of the traditional means of activism, here is something else you can do to help. The DC Chapter of IVAW has been very active in getting our message out to the powerbrokers in DC. We regularly meet with Congressmen and Senators, and attend hearings on Capitol Hill to make our presence known. We are also actively involved in supporting other anti-war groups that represent a broader demographic than just the veterans, such as Military Families Speak Out, Code Pink (Women for Peace), Voters For Peace, ANSWER (Act Now, Stop War, End Racism), and UFPJ (United For Peace and Justice). When we attend events hosted by these groups, they appreciate the credibility we lend them as veterans of the war in Iraq.

We also conduct our own actions, such as Operation First Casualty on March 19th. This was a mock combat patrol through Washington, DC to bring the truth of the war home to the American people, because it has long been said that the first casualty of war is the truth. This was organized and hosted by members of DC IVAW with great financial and logistical assistance from the national office, and members from around the country. You can read more about this here.

There is much more that we could do, and in this effort, we ask for your help. What IVAW needs most urgently is a base of operations in DC from which to plan actions and host visiting veterans from around the country. This would allow veterans who would otherwise not be able, to come to DC, meet with Congressmen, attend hearings, participate in demonstrations, and lend their voices to the anti-war movement.

Please become a sponsor of the IVAW DC House by making a monthly pledge until the war is over. Our modest goal is to raise $5000 per month to cover rent and operating costs. We appreciate one time donations as well, but anyone who is able to contribute $100 or more a month will become an honorary member of our chapter and be invited to join us for a weekly sponsor’s dinner hosted at the IVAW DC House. Please make your donations by mailing a check made out to IVAW with “IVAW DC House” in the memo to PO Box 8296, Philadelphia, PA 19101 or by going here, clicking on “Donate Now” and including “IVAW DC House” in the Special Project Support window. If you choose to send a check, please be sure to include your email address if you would like to be added to the IVAW DC Supporter’s email list to receive regular updates of our activities. Please feel free to email me with any questions or comments.

Thank you for your support,

Adam Kokesh

adam@ivaw.org

My First Arrest (that I’m proud of)

On April 16, I took part in a demonstration led by Code Pink with members of IVAW, Veterans For Peace, and Voters For Peace at Nancy Pelosi’s office. The objective of the demonstration, as it was for numerous demonstrations before, was to get Pelosi to speak to Tina Richards, the mother of Iraq war veteran Cloy Richards, who currently rates an 80% disability. We occupied her office in the Cannon House Office Building and Medea Benjamin of Code Pink began reading the names of servicemen recently killed in Iraq. The list was being passed around and everyone would read the name, the hometown, and the unit of one of the dead, and how and when they were killed. When the list came to me, I passed it on.

We had some press in the office with us, and we eventually got the attention of some of Pelosi’s staff other than the receptionist. Her press secretary came out and with the support of the US Capitol Police, ejected the credentialed press from the office into the hallway, claiming that it was against “the rules” for press to be in Congressional offices. To show support for the reporters, most of us followed them into the hallway, demanding that the press be allowed into the office. Their best claim was that, “This is a public hallway, but this is a private office.” The second “this” being the lobby to Pelosi’s office. It just so happens we had the Constitution on our side. As people began chanting, “Stop funding the war,” Tina’s voice was among the loudest and she was arrested without warning.

The video can be seen here.

I spoke to her the next day and she explained how easy the whole thing had been, despite having to leave her daughter with someone else. She got her citation, paid a fine, and went home a few hours later. My first thought was, “Well shit, I can do that. It’s about time I get arrested for the cause anyway.”

When Tina asked me to take part in the action at the Senate Hart Office Building on April 26th, she said I would be taking on a role that would put me at a high risk for arrest, but I didn’t believe her. The plan was for a four-phase action. The first phase was for Code Pink to create a diversion by spreading out in teams of two to distract the Police. Phase two was the reading of letters from Iraq in the middle of the atrium. This was intended to draw police to the ground floor to set up phase three.

In phase three, a group from Artists Against the War conducted two banner drops. The first, which went from the sixth floor down to the third, had the text of Article II, Section 4 of the Constitution, which covers impeachment. Then on the other side of the atrium, another banner was dropped saying simply, “YOUR SILENCE YOUR LEGACY.”

Then it was phase four, which began with the playing of taps. Our trumpeter had posted himself well out of the way, but the Police knew where he was and he only got off a line and a half before getting arrested. This was the cue for Reverend Lennox Yearwood (head of the Hip-Hop Caucus and former Air Force Chaplain) and me to enter the atrium. The plan was for him to walk out, post, and do an about-face. I was to post ten meters in front of him and our supporters would form a gauntlet between us.

We had been hanging out by the bank of elevators when taps started, but by the time we got into the atrium, the trumpeter had been silenced, and people were mouthing the melody in their various keys. The Reverend found his spot just fine, but when I came around the sculpture in the atrium, I was confronted with a phalanx of lenses. There were three TV cameras and at least six photographers. I was fifteen feet away from the Reverend and couldn’t see him! But I hadn’t even done anything yet! I was just standing there in my boonie cover and IVAW t-shirt with a folded flag. After about ten very long seconds, I slowly started walking into the cameras. Most of them got out of the way, but one guy who was crouched down just went straight backwards and was pushed out of the way just before bumping into the Reverend. I got the sense that a circle was forming around us, but that there were an unusual number of police there. When one of them yelled, “If you come inside the perimeter, you will be subject to arrest,” my suspicions were confirmed.

The Reverend said his prayer, and all the while the police were warning us that, “what you are doing constitutes a political protest and you are subject to arrest.” I had been under the impression that political protest was constitutionally protected, but then we are talking about a Senate building here. Kevin Zeese of Voters for Peace yelled, “Respect the funeral!” and was arrested immediately. I stood up. The Reverend did an about-face, took three steps, and did another about-face. At that point, I had done what I had come to do, and would have done an about-face and walked away, but we were still inside this perimeter of cops. Then we both stood at the Position of Attention facing each other, and he was arrested. Then one of the cops asked me if there was someone there that I wanted to give the flag to, because I was being arrested. I ignored him and just stood still. Then someone (I kept my eyes locked forward) pulled the flag out of my hands and I dropped them to my sides in the standard Position of Attention. Then I was flex-cuffed and led out the front door to a waiting paddy wagon van.

I was patted down and they emptied my pockets into a large brown paper bag. I climbed into the van next to the Reverend, Kevin Zeese, and David Kane, our trumpeter. This was the boys side. Then they filled up the girls side with five old ladies, mostly from Artists Against the War. Apparently, they needed another van to hold the rest of them. We were told it would be a five minute ride to the station and then they would cut our cuffs and we would get processed. It took at least ten minutes before we left, then fifteen on the road, then we sat in the driveway for about half an hour before they were ready for us. This was when the cuffs really started to hurt, but I kept telling myself, “Marines don’t complain.” It wasn’t that they were all that tight, but rather that it was hard to keep my forearms parallel and the edges of the cuffs were digging into the sides of my wrists so hard that I still had marks the next day. So the Reverend and I leaned into each other at the elbows to ease the strain.

The mood was pretty jovial the whole time and we cracked jokes, and after the women were pulled out to get processed, we started singing and I led a few dirty rugby songs and Marine running cadences to keep the boys in spirits. Then it was our turn and we each in turn got our cuffs clipped, then our possessions inventoried, then the thorough pat down when we had to remove our shoes and socks. The guy patting me down happened to be an Army reservist and Iraq vet and I tried to recruit him for IVAW.

We filled out some paperwork, joked with the cops, paid a fifty dollar fine, and were released. We were all charged with “Unlawful Assembly – Loud and Boisterous.” This is particularly absurd in my case, as I was assembled with only one other person the entire time, and didn’t even open my mouth once. I might fight it, but there are more important things to worry about. The only reason would be to have it off my record because after so many arrests, you can be banned from the Capitol grounds. After everyone was released, we met up at Bus Boys & Poets for dinner. They really need to have an activist discount.

They managed to get my flag into my paper bag with the rest of my belongings, but before they did, the one older female cop who was there pulled me aside and whispered to me, “We got you your flag back. But don’t say anything, because they wanted to keep it as evidence.” It didn’t occur to me to laugh hysterically, because I was just wondering who “they” were. While walking around the capitol the next week, two of the cops who were there recognized me, shook my hand, and asked me if I had gotten my flag back. One of them had even seen the video on YouTube.

You can see a video of the action here.

Bush's Leadership, An Historical Perspective

I wrote the following op-ed for a class at CMC in October 2005. It would have been an automatic A if it had been published, but it got an A anyway. Professor Pitney, for whom I have the utmost respect, said that it was more likely to get picked up than any of his op-eds, but alas, it was not.

In reading it now, I am surprised that I had as much perspective as I did at this point. I was still laboring under the illusion that there was nothing I could do about Iraq, and the only reason I wrote this was for the chance to get it published in order to get an A. After it was written and submitted, I didn’t think twice about it. I just went on with my life and got ready to go back to Iraq.

I wish that instead of warning me about possible violations of the UCMJ, Professor Pitney had encouraged me to speak out further. But to say that is to place blame where it is undue. He encouraged my perspective and my voice, and yet I allowed it to go silent. But not anymore. Please enjoy this, “historical perspective.”

Bush’s Leadership

Sgt Adam C. Kokesh, USMC

If it were not for the “Sgt” appearing before my name, would it be obvious that an op-ed titled “Bush’s Leadership” would be critical of the President? Don’t let it fool you. The administration has done well styling its man as a leader. Unfortunately, the illusion is wearing thin. With his last vacation, Bush will surpass Reagan’s record of 335 days of vacation, but with over three years left in his Presidency.

As an idealistic young Marine Reservist who opposed the war, I found myself attending a protest on my college campus when I realized that I was surrounded by mostly dirty hippies whose ignorance was only surpassed by their hatred of the man in office. I was against the war more as a matter of policy than as a matter of principle. I could see (not that I was the only one) that we were not going to be getting our money’s worth.

But the war went ahead and a lot of people who were not in the Texas Air National Guard died. Those holding their breath for the WMDs slowly exhaled. And then the President went on vacation. No one is quite sure when, but at some point between “Mission Accomplished” and his reelection, it became an afterthought. After all, there was Social Security to privatize and lots of college buddies to appoint. But the American effort in Iraq plodded on through a schedule of constitutions and elections and the occasional headline of a dozen soldiers dying in an isolated attack.

At a press conference in December, 2003, Bush said, “In order to fight and win the war, it requires an expenditure of money that is commiserate with keeping a promise to our troops to make sure that they're well paid, well trained, well equipped.” Aside from the exaggerated problems of distributing vehicle armor, he has kept that promise. The current expenditures for Iraq total $204.4 billion, or $727 per person in the United States, making it the most expensive military effort since WWII. I do not think I need to reiterate any of the death tolls from the coalition forces (2060), contractors (255), journalists (66), Iraqi troops (some estimates as high as 45,000), and Iraqi civilians, (some estimates as high as 98,000) to underscore the human costs.

When the war started, everyone in my reserve artillery unit was excited at the prospect of joining the fight. Even after it became clear that there was not going to be any need for more artillery, they told us that we were on the short list of reserve units for the next rotation. But in December of 2003 we learned that units stationed at Camp Pendleton were looking for volunteers. Because I believed in the effort to clean up the mess, and that any system of government that ensures us the quality of life we enjoy is worth supporting, I went out of my way to join the fight.

I joined the 3rd Civil Affairs Group and while in Al Anbar Province we helped distribute a big chunk of the $18.4 billion allocated by Congress for reconstruction (an unfortunately small piece of the $204.4 billion). We saw hundreds of projects such as schools, clinics, mosques, and water stations completed. It felt good to have a purpose. We were there for the handover in June when most of the funds we had for projects went to the ministries in Baghdad. Although Iraq had an interim constitution, it was sorely lacking the rule of law.

But we kept patrolling, and reaching out to communities, and laboring under the illusion that we were gaining ground on the insurgency. The ratio of coalition soldiers to Iraqis is 6 to 1000. Historically, occupation forces facing armed resistance have required a ratio of 20 to 1000. Americans seem to think that military patrols in Iraq have some of the effect of police patrols in America. But soldiers on patrol roll through town, make a very deliberate stop, then maybe wander around within a hundred yards of their vehicles. They are hardly a presence. They may be preventing bomb makers from setting up shop on street corners, but they are not stopping any crime.

On June 28th 2005, a year to the day after the handover of power, President Bush outlined his goals in Iraq before an audience of soldiers at Fort Bragg. “Our mission in Iraq is clear. We're hunting down the terrorists. We're helping Iraqis build a free nation that is an ally in the war on terror. We're advancing freedom in the broader Middle East. We are removing a source of violence and instability, and laying the foundation of peace for our children and our grandchildren.” While I have come to grips with going back to Iraq, I hope my children and grandchildren do not find themselves in the same predicament. He emphasized the progress made and praised the soldiers before him. “Our strategy can be summed up this way: As the Iraqis stand up, we will stand down.” Some of the soldiers in the room may have wondered why troop levels have been steady since the end of the “war” and why the Army is planning on maintaining current levels through 2006 despite all of the “standing up” that has been going on. Yet I doubt any jumped at the opportunity to point this out to the Commander in Chief.

Like an anxious mother teaching her sixteen-year-old son to drive, we sit in the passenger seat stomping on an imaginary brake pedal. The President is right that we are not done in Iraq, but it is time that we stopped trying to do the security job for the Iraqis at hundreds of times the cost for them to do it. Stomping that imaginary brake pedal does not slow down the car. We can still contribute logistics and training for security efforts, and support for the political process, but sustaining the illusion that our presence is still “removing a source of violence and instability” will only further delay the day when Iraq can prosper under its own laws. As troops in Iraq stay levelheaded on 120 degree days, the heat builds in Washington for the White House. I hope it is not getting too intense for him. As he said himself the day before leaving Washington, "No matter how hot it gets, I enjoy spending time in Texas."

Adam Kokesh (akokesh05@mckenna.edu) is a senior at Claremont McKenna College and a Sergeant in the Marine Corps Reserve. He served in Fallujah in 2004 with the 3rd Civil Affairs Group and will return for another tour in 2006.

Speech for UMBC Solidarity Coalition at UMBC, 070502

From Monday, April 30th to Friday, May 4th, the UMBC Solidarity Coalition hosted a five-day fast and "sit-out" to protest the illegal U.S. occupation of Iraq called Hungry For Peace. Several students, faculty, and staff camped out on the Commons Terrace and fasted from food for the entire week without leaving the area. Each day of the fast represented an estimated 100,000 of the total estimated 500,000 Iraqi civilians killed from the illegal U.S. occupation - over 50 times the entire undergraduate student body of UMBC!

Many others participated by wearing black arm bands, fasting for a meal or a day, making supportive chalk art, donating a meal to charity, and hanging out for the daily speeches. I was invited to speak on Wednesday, adding my name to the esteemed list, which included Tina Richards, Raed Jarrar, UMBC veteran Thomas Greg, and Tassi McKee.

This was my first extended speech on behalf of IVAW, and I considered it to be a very important test. When I came back from Iraq, I spoke for nearly two hours at the Athenaeum at CMC, but I just told stories and showed slides, and it was very low pressure. And I had spoken at concerts for IVAW, but never for more than a few minutes. To speak passionately and with the goal to inspire for 45 minutes was expected to be a challenge.

I was introduced by Jonathan Williams, who was instrumental in coordinating the entire event. He handed me the microphone, and the first two minutes went smoothly until a school administrator walked up to the amp and killed the mic. After a brief argument, I just said, “fuck it, I’ll do it without the mic.” This was definitely a challenge as I was competing with a girl who was playing guitar and singing on the other side of the terrace, who was apparently authorized to have a mic, and some student group playing music down the hall.

So I stood up on the bench and belted it out. The administrator listened intently for five minutes before killing the music down the hall and coming back. I kept my eyes focused on him for the rest of the speech. Most of my “applause lines” near the beginning fell flat, but by the end, I had to stop for applause in places that I didn’t expect it. It was a great feeling, and the feedback was tremendous.

I ended up going for exactly one hour, and most of the students there missed or went late to class to hear the end of the speech. By then I had totally lost my voice. The guys there bought me lunch, and I ate in front of them (with great embarrassment) only because they asked me to.

The Humanity Shield

I’ve heard it a million times. “Boot camp brainwashes you!” Normally it isn’t said with an exclamation mark, at least not to my face, for obvious reasons. And I’ve heard the stories of friends who joined the Marines and “came back from boot camp a different person.” But I always resented the term “brainwash” being applied to something I had been through. I still have a very dirty mind, after all.

My explanation has always been that they don’t brainwash you, or even break you down and build you back up as a Marine, but rather scrub away your bad habits, and replace them with Marine Corps approved good habits. Most of these are genuinely good features for a decent human being to have. Marines are not only subjected to intense physical training, but taught that it is important to challenge yourself every day and to maintain a body that is always ready for anything.

Marines are imbued with a sense of self-sacrifice and service. This is reflected in our belief in community service. I have personally been involved in a number of Marine Corps Reserve Toys for Tots events. There is also a sense of heritage and respect that for those that have gone before us. We are the only branch of the service that has regular history classes as part of our basic training. And there are always the oft-repeated “Corps Values” of honor, courage, and commitment.

My tattoo reads, “For those who fight for it, life has a special flavor the protected never know.” I first saw this at Camp Pendleton when I was fourteen at the Devil Pups junior boot camp “citizenship and fitness program.” I came home and told my dad I just had to have this tattoo. He said if I could boil it down to five words, I could get it. Unfortunately, the phrase is an important part of the Marine Corps heritage. It originated in Vietnam and became a popular thing to write on one’s flak jacket or helmet. After I joined and saw all my friends getting their “hoorah tats” I knew that I had earned this one.

But clearly, the experience of boot camp changes you. Marines are also trained to kill. And part of that training is psychological. We are imbued with the ability to be very callous when we need to. We are not only armed with M-16s and K-BARs and machine guns, but we are given a shield with which to protect our humanity from whatever horrors we may encounter in the course of serving as weapons of our democracy. In times of peace, most Marines are able to go about their lives without ever raising that shield.

When the shield comes up, it is very effective. “The deadliest thing in the world is a Marine and his rifle.” When there is no room for hesitation, when it is kill or be killed, that shield is what keeps Marines alive. But it is not easy to take down. In Iraq, the reason mental health has become such an issue, is because there is no “rear,” there is no place to take a break, and there is no time to truly relax and think that you are safe. The threat of a mortar landing on your head at any time is literally a constant fear. At least my team did not have the luxury of spending our days in the Green Zone, in a reinforced bomb shelter.

With the shield up for so long, it is often difficult to bring it down. It means becoming vulnerable again, and becoming human again. When I came back from Iraq, I had a hard time adjusting. It took me about three months to really feel comfortable where I was, going to class, interacting with friends, things we take for granted. I would often wake up well before my alarm with a sense of urgency, thinking that I had to be somewhere and not be able to go back to sleep. I had occasional anxiety attacks. When bumped into from behind, I would find myself grabbing for the butt of my pistol where it would have been on my hip, not in aggression, but to protect it as we did when amid crowds of Iraqis.

I understood that what I was experiencing was “normal combat stress,” the symptoms of which persist for six to twelve weeks. It was not PTSD, I was sure of that. The reason it never became PTSD was because I kept the shield up. I kept it up for three more semesters and another year of active duty. I kept it up until after I got discharged last November. In fact, I was so comfortable behind it, that instead of going home to be with my family. I stayed at the house of a fellow Marine off base, sleeping on his couch so that I could keep working out at the gym on base and be with my Marine friends.

When I came to DC, I knew that I had to be involved somehow. I didn’t know IVAW existed, but I came across the website one night in February by accident. At first, I was apprehensive about being active. I spoke at a few events before participating in Operation First Casualty. That was when the shield really started to come down. That was when I got to become human again.

I went home that night and read over and over the story of Jonathan Shulze¹ and couldn’t stop crying. For the next week, I spent my nights at my computer, sobbing uncontrollably. I read the story of Carlos Arredondo². I had seen the coverage when his story was first on the news and saw the twisted version that America got. I felt sorry for him, but fuck it, it didn’t affect me. Then rereading the story over and over, and feeling his pain, I cried. I watched the “Before You Enlist” video and thought about how I had encouraged my brother to join the Army only months before and I cried.

I read the story of Cindy Sheehan, who I had been aware of, but never bothered to relate to. I saw a video of her in Crawford, where a young Marine “counter-protester” said to the press that her son was an “acceptable loss.” Cindy put her arm around him and led him off to speak with him privately. I couldn’t hear any of the words, but I knew exactly what she was saying to him and I cried. I realized how callous I had been to my own mother about being deployed and being ready to go back and I called her and apologized.

I think I am most of the way through this process of bringing down the shield, but it’s hard to say. I know of some Marines who have come home and never take it down, never get to go through this process. Some of them drink themselves to into oblivion instead. Some get to take it down slowly. But it is now that I am putting my experience back into context with my humanity, that I am experiencing the symptoms of PTSD, if only slightly. I used to tell people that I didn’t see anything too traumatic, and that I don’t have flashbacks, but now I cannot say that without certain incidents coming to mind.

This is what it means to be human. This is what it means to be vulnerable. I have spent my entire adult life up to this point carrying around the shield, but I’m done. I hope I never have to even pick it up again. As one of the Vietnam Veterans who participated in Operation Dewey Canyon III said before throwing his medals back at the Capitol, “We don’t want to fight anymore, but if we do, it’ll be to take these steps!” This is our fight now.

1. Jonathan Shulze is the Marine from Minnesota who was suffering from PTSD and was turned down twice by the VA after telling them he was suicidal. He killed himself the next day.

2. Carlos Arredondo’s son was killed in Iraq in August 2004. When he was notified by three local Marine reservists, he asked them leave his house. They refused and he took a hammer to their government van. He then retrieved a can of gasoline, and in an attempt to light the van on fire, also suffered severe burns over most of his body. He is now an active anti-war protester, and a personal friend of mine.

Having Fun At the Attorney General’s Expense

On April 19, I attended the Senate Judiciary hearing with Attorney General Alberto Gonzales. I had only decided to go the night before at a meeting at the CodePink house with Geoff Millard. That was where we came up with the idea for the action, but no one said that they would do it for sure. CodePink decided to do a “Pink Police” demonstration, featuring Gael Murphy playing the part of AGAG in an orange jumpsuit.

That morning I woke up at some ungodly hour to pick up Geoff and get to the Hart building early enough to be sure we could get a good spot in the line. When we arrived, the line wasn’t too long, but Code Pink was waiting for us. Then Cindy Sheehan showed up and I got my first chance to talk with her!

We got into the hearing and of course CodePink was raising a ruckus and I was holding my sign that said, “WE WERE SHOT AT BY YOUR TORTURE VICTIMS.” When the hearing was gaveled into session, we sat down rather quietly. That was when Midge Potts walked up right in front of the press area behind Gonzales with her great thought bubble banner, “I HAVE NOTHING TO HIDE . . . EXCEPT THE TRUTH.” By the way, Midge is really a hero of mine that I’ve been attempting to emulate in hearings. CNN did a great feature on her.

Senator Leahy began by warning everyone, “whether holding up signs in support of or against” Gonzales that they could not block anyone’s view. I strained to see anyone with a sign supporting him, but alas, we all think he’s a disgrace.

I was looking around at the CodePink ladies, and asked if anyone was going to keep track of the times Gonzales would say, “I don’t recall,” but no one was. I numbered all the remaining sheets in my padfolio on the right, up to fifteen. Senator Schumer actually warned him in his opening statement against saying, "I don't recall," and I thought my idea was shot, but he was so far off message it didn't matter anyway. I soon ran out of paper and had to switch to tally marks. Then I filled up the page I was working on and had to start again with smaller tally marks.

The lead photo you see hear was taken at the beginning of the lunch break. That count of 56 was only the half-time score. My final count was 74. More importantly, someone told Gonzales at each of the breaks that I was in the crowd. For the first twenty minutes or so after the break, he didn't say it once, but then he just lost it. He also said "I don't-" and caught himself at least a hundred times, which probably made him sound like at least twice the douche he would have. But Senator Schumer also mentioned the count in his closing remarks.

Regardless, I think I made my point. The real reason I was there (the main reason I hate Gonzales) is because torture policy is bad for US troops. (It's also morally reprehensible.) When I was in Fallujah, (Feb-Sep 2004) I was running a checkpoint at a civil affairs facility when the Abu Ghraib story broke, but I still had to go out the next day and face crowds of Iraqi civilians. I also had to hear the reports of Marines dying around the city because of the angst that was a direct result of that. I got to say all that and then some for cameras in an area roped off for Senators to give statements after the hearing. A bit of it was even used in CNN segment on the hearing, which is quite funny. The reaction in the blogosphere was pretty good too.

On the Proper Wearing of the Marine Corps Uniform as an IVAW Member

A few days ago I received a very disturbing email:

Cpl Kokesh, [I was busted down to Cpl for my last month in the Marines]

I know you're a busy man these days but I was hoping to speak with you about an issue that has presented itself. I have been assigned as Investigating Officer to look into your possible violation(s) of DoDI 1334.01 "Wearing of the Uniform" and MCO P1020.34 "Marine Corps Uniform Regulations". Specifically, you may have violated the law while wearing all or part of your Marine Corps uniform while engaged in political demonstrations or activities.

I know this matter pales in comparison with recent geopolitical events of which you have shown an interest but, nonetheless, I am obligated to investigate this matter and I have a desire to let a fellow Marine know about his obligations and duty. As a member of the Reserve Component, until 18 JUN 2007, the law restricts your wearing of the uniform at certain events.

Please call me or reply to this e-mail acknowledging your understanding of your obligations and responsibilities. Thanks Marine!

Major **** *. *****

The next day I met with Tina Richards for lunch and showed her the email. She told me that Cloy Richards (her son, fellow Marine, member of IVAW) had received numerous similar emails, some of which had come from people outside of the military, or at least acting on their own. He had ignored them all with no consequence.

While the nature of the email is professional, the content is clearly threatening. I was not scared, so much as I was angry. After a few days of deliberation, including a couple nights sitting at my computer, staring at the email, I felt compelled to reply with the following:

Major *****,

As you are still an active part of the military engaged in an occupation in Iraq, I should hope that you too are a busy man these days. I am reminded of a poster that hung in the building housing the 3rd Civil Affairs Group of which I was once a member that read, "We're at war. Are you doing all you can?" Apparently, you have found the time to investigate me over such a trifling matter, which as you say yourself "pales in comparison" to the issue at hand.

I was honorably discharged twice after volunteering twice to go to Iraq. I was among the hardest of the hardcore. I was promoted to Sgt after a mere three years and seven months as a reservist. I earned my Combat Action Ribbon in the middle of Fallujah. I slept in the dirt during the first battle of Fallujah. I taught myself Arabic in order to be more proficient at my job as a Civil Affairs NCO to the point that I could run a checkpoint at a Civil Affairs facility without a translator, which was a necessity we were not always afforded. Two and a half years later, I was awarded the Navy Commendation Medal for my efforts.

It was during this tour of duty that I brought a pistol home from Iraq. It was not a war trophy, but something I purchased from an Iraqi policeman that we were working with. Regardless, my CO discovered this as I was preparing to deploy for a second tour with the 3rd CAG, this time to Ramadi. I begged to be able to deploy, but was not allowed. I had volunteered to be activated for up to one year and was held for that entire period. I spent the majority of that time mowing the lawn around our building and begging to be sent to Iraq. I wanted only to serve to the best of my ability in the most appropriate capacity. The day after I was presented with my Navy Commendation Medal, I received Non-Judicial Punishment and was reduced to the rank of Corporal. I was soon given an honorable discharge accompanied by a reenlistment code 4. In case you are not familiar with it, that's the one that means I'm not welcome back. "Thanks for playing, it's been fun, but you can't reenlist."

So why I am I being investigated? Is it simply a matter of bureaucratic policy that you are being forced to carry out? Or am I really being perceived as a threat to the good order and discipline of the armed forces? I don't really think that's the case, but I am deeply offended by the attempt to keep me under the thumb of the organization to which I pledged my life and served so devotedly.

As we waste our time on such petty issues, our fellow Marines continue to die in futility in an occupation that our military is not adequately prepared to handle. While as a citizen, I have my responsibility to do all I can to ensure that our noble weapons of democracy are employed only in the best interests of our nation, you still have a responsibility to accomplish the two goals of Marine Corps leadership:

1. Mission Accomplishment

2. Troop Welfare

I fail to see how reminding me of my "obligations and responsibilities" helps you achieve either of these. It seems that while accomplishing our mission in Iraq, every corner we turn sends us further down the spiral, but there is still much that you can do to bring our fellow Marines home alive.

So no, I am not replying to your email in order to acknowledge my understanding of my obligations and responsibilities, but rather to ask you to please, kindly, go fuck yourself.

Semper Fi,

Adam Kokesh, PFC

Proud Fucking Civilian