CJ Heim
1 April, 2014
It
was June 4, 2005 when I made a decision that has haunted me for years. As usual my squad was on site at Al-Nasir
Police Station on Route Bravo. Route
Bravo was a divided road with two lanes of traffic on each side of the concrete
divider. Nasir was a dangerous station
as it was deep in the city and was the lowest building around. However, the real danger at Nasir was getting
in and out of the station. The parking
area was completely enclosed and could only be accessed by a sliding door in
the front right of the station. The
parking area had covered areas to the left and rear and was full of Iraqi
Police vehicles. The only way to get the
armored trucks inside the parking area was to stop traffic on Route Bravo and
back the vehicles in the station. This
street was always packed with cars and people as it was an access point to the
Sadr City Market.
By June, I had done
this a thousand times and became comfortable with the danger level. As always, my vehicle was the lead
vehicle. I would have my driver and
gunner mount up in the vehicle while I would walk out in the middle of traffic
to halt the flow. Most of the time I
would not even need to raise my weapon to stop the vehicles. On this day in
June that was a different story. The
first two lanes of traffic stopped immediately so I continued across the
concrete divider and into the other two lanes.
As I looked to the right, traffic began to stop except for one
vehicle. I raised my hand and shouted
“Awgalf”, the Arabic word for stop. The
vehicle kept coming. I raised my weapon
and again shouted “Awgalf” but still the vehicle kept coming. I switched my selector level from safe to
semi and heard the metallic click. I can
still feel my heart beating out of my chest as I slide my finger over the
trigger. The vehicle kept coming.
The
seconds that passed seemed like hours. I
aimed at the driver’s windshield and gently pulled the trigger to the
rear. I don’t remember hearing the
weapon fire. The only thing I remember
is the metallic click the weapon made when I released the trigger. Before I even looked down the barrel of my
weapon at what had just occurred my mind caught up with my body. Something felt off about what had
happened. I knew subconsciously that my
mind made a decision my body could not.
It was as if my body was in the fog of war and only knew how to
react. At the same time my mind was
clear and was still able to act upon the morals buried deep inside me. There was something very different about this
incident, I just didn’t yet know what I would soon find out. I looked at the vehicle down the barrel of my
weapon and it had veered off onto the sidewalk stopping in the middle of
pedestrian traffic. By this time my
squad leader was standing next to me and we moved out with a fire team to do
damage control as the crowd flocked around the vehicle. I was the first to see what had
happened. The driver of the vehicle was
a small boy. I didn’t have to wait for
the interrupter to tell me what had happened as I could already see. The boy could not reach the brake pedal and
that is why he could not have stopped.
My round was off target as it was a child and not an adult driving the
vehicle.
This event still gets to me, if
it wasn’t a boy in the truck but a man with a truck full of explosives and I
didn’t take the shot, me and my men would be dead. If it was a six year old boy who couldn’t
reach the brake pedal and I did take the shot, I just killed an innocent young
boy. I cannot answer why my shot was
off. I also cannot justify why I waited
so long to pull the trigger. I should
have had enough time to fire a shot into the grill before the windshield but I
hesitated. This hesitation could have
caused me my life or the men in my squad their life. I still constantly think about it. There are other days that haunt me in my down
time and in my sleep but I will not subject you to all of my horrors.
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