Meanwhile, back at to the Front

Adam Ashton of the Modesto Bee reports on a California Guard unit's return to Iraq:

Veterans from the first tour describe it as marked by constant roadside attacks and ambiguous results. Some left with mixed feelings about Iraq's future.

"My experience last time wasn't the greatest," Adame said. "When we left, it hadn't gotten any better. It was just as active as when we started. We took hundreds of detainees, hundreds of rockets, off the streets, and there were still IEDs."

Other veterans who'd joined the battalion since that tour said they had similar doubts about Iraq after they finished deployments with different Army and Marine contingents.

"Last time I was very unsure," said Spc. Jeremy Calgaro, 27, of Patterson, Calif., who's on his third tour in Iraq. His past deployments brought him to the country with the Army during the 2003 invasion and in 2005.

He came back wanting to see how Iraq had changed.

The Army ousted its first commander in Iraq, Lt. Col. Patrick Frey, in the wake of a controversy over abused detainees in one of his companies. A roadside bomb killed his successor, Col. William Wood, in October 2005, three months after he'd taken over.

The battalion persevered and returned home with fanfare in January 2006. Gov. Schwarzenegger dubbed the troops "true action heroes."

From the first weeks of our mobilization in August 2004, we were in the spotlight. We were the battalion “mired in scandal.” We were, according to the disgruntled, poor in training and morale. Once in Iraq, we were the battalion that suffered casualties seemingly faster than anyone could count: 17 killed in action and nearly 100 wounded in 12 months. We were the battalion whose commander, Col. William W. Wood, became the highest-ranking soldier to die in action. Our previous commander was relieved of duty after a scandal involving the abuse of Iraqi prisoners. Even as we rolled out each day to confront terrorists, we were known at home primarily for things that had nothing to do with the job we did or how we did it.

Over the course of 18 months, the 600 soldiers of the 184th experienced almost every high and low a band of brothers could, from great distinction to shocking heartbreak. But what never made it into print were the things that will mark our hearts until well after we become the old-timers down at the VFW.

We served with honor. We served with valor. We earned distinction.

Google us to find the litany of supposed woe. But if you want to know the real story of our battalion, go find Sgt. Thomas Kruger and ask him about April 5, 2005.

On that bright spring morning, with his legs shattered, Kruger dragged himself across 100 feet of debris and shrapnel to reach Cpl. Glenn Watkins, who had been mortally wounded moments earlier by the same ghastly roadside bomb.

You might also ask anyone from our ranks about Staff Sgt. Steve Nunez. Broken and bloodied by an IED, he was ordered home to recuperate after refusing to go voluntarily. He rejoined us to carry the fight forward, refusing the chance to stay home.

There were no front-page headlines for Kruger, Nunez or even Sgt. 1st Class Tom Stone, who covered a wounded subordinate’s body with his own to protect that soldier from a secondary attack that could have come at any moment.

Stone, a Los Angeles Police Department officer, and Kruger, a paramedic on movie sets, were awarded Bronze Stars for their valor. Nunez, a Riverside metalworker, received our awe and admiration, and I hope yours too.

Equally deserving of recognition were Sgt. 1st Class Chris Chebatah and 1st Lt. Ky Cheng. One terrible September night, an armored personnel carrier in their patrol was destroyed by a tremendous blast and flipped, pinning a soldier. Even while taking enemy fire and directing the care for casualties around them, they rigged a chain to pull the 10-ton vehicle off him. The effort was successful but ultimately futile.

So far, 14 of our soldiers have been decorated for valor and another 48 have earned the Bronze Star for service. But that cannot be found in print.

Our unit – supposedly just a band of weekend warriors from the National Guard – was selected by the Army’s renowned 3rd Infantry Division to take on its primary challenge: taking control of a sector of south Baghdad that was home to leading Baathists and Al Qaeda fanatics. In that capacity, we conducted more than 7,000 combat patrols totaling nearly half a million man-hours. We captured more insurgents in one month than did whole brigades. We stand nominated (with the rest of our brigade) for a Valorous Unit Award.

But instead, people who didn’t know the first thing about us trumpeted the misdeeds of a handful of young men who scoffed at the concepts of honor and duty that our commander invoked.

From their first man lost (Watkins) through the previously mentioned morale-breaking scandal to the December, 2005 elections they brought home the highs and lows of the warriors' war - including even the battles they couldn't win. And then they came home.

"I patrolled the streets of Baghdad’s elite Karrada neighborhood and its insurgent-rich Doura sector, shaking people’s hands and learning their problems." Parry wrote in his Times op-ed in February, 2006 - in stark contrast to the now popular (and erroneous) narrative that 'everything before the surge was wrong'.

I lived and worked alongside American contractors upgrading a key power plant. I trained Iraqi police, saw their enthusiasm and came to understand their different approach to things. I worked as a junior officer on our battalion staff, witnessing how the decisions governing the street fight were shaped. I was shot at and attacked with IEDs.

I saw the successes. I struggled with the failures. But most important, I saw people who once had nothing now bursting with hope and thanks.

And now, three years later, in defiance of the also-current narrative that there are no stories left to tell from Iraq, reporter Adam Ashton is with the Battalion for their return.

"Last time I was very unsure," said Spc. Jeremy Calgaro, 27, of Patterson, Calif., who's on his third tour in Iraq. His past deployments brought him to the country with the Army during the 2003 invasion and in 2005.

He came back wanting to see how Iraq had changed. He sees the differences in flourishing agricultural fields that remind him of home in the San Joaquin Valley, and in positive interactions he's had with Iraqis.
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"Here we are, we're doing our jobs and things have gotten much better," he said.

Spc. Ralph Salazar said he was enthusiastic about his mission in Iraq as a Marine in 2003 and 2004. He'd smoked a cigar with a close friend on the roof of a Baghdad palace to celebrate his 20th birthday in 2004.

His feelings about the war began to shift around 2006, when news reports showed Iraq descending into bloody sectarian violence.

He heard about improvements before he left the U.S. for his current tour, but the better conditions still startled him when he arrived in November.

"I was still expecting to spend some time running for the bunkers," said the 24-year-old from Fresno, Calif. "I do have to say I appreciate the calm.

"The fact that we've been here and made all this progress, it validates everything for me," Salazar said. "It did matter."