[Congressional Record Volume 154, Number 69 (Tuesday, April 29, 2008)]
[House]
[Pages H2766-H2767]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
[[Page H2766]]
U.S. CASUALTIES IN IRAQ
The SPEAKER pro tempore. The Chair recognizes the gentleman from
Washington (Mr. McDermott) for 5 minutes.
Mr. McDERMOTT. Mr. Speaker, we owe a debt of gratitude to Dana
Milbank at the Washington Post and to Hal Bernton at one of my hometown
newspapers, The Seattle Times. These two journalists, writing almost
exactly 4 years apart, have pierced the veil of secrecy this
administration shamefully uses to hide the painful images of U.S.
casualties in Iraq and the touching and patriotic farewells by loved
ones.
On Sunday, April 18, 2004, Bernton wrote a story called: The Somber
Task of Honoring the Fallen. This poignant story included the first
newspaper pictures of caskets being loaded into a military airplane.
The story, which I will enter into the Record, set off a firestorm,
because the administration did not want anyone to see the grim reality
of war--rows of flag-draped coffins inside a military plane to begin
the last homecoming. And the civilian contractor who took the pictures
was fired for sharing them with the media. They were published at a
time when the administration was doing everything to make people
believe in its May 1, 2003, Mission Accomplished banner.
The administration continues to spin the message from that phony PR
event. To do that, the administration continues to hide the grim
reality of the Iraq war. Last Thursday, Milbank wrote a story in the
Washington Post called: What the Family Would Let You See, the Pentagon
Obstructs. Almost 4 years later after The Seattle Times story, the
American people are still denied access to the truth.
Behind me is a photograph of Lieutenant Colonel Billy Hall from the
Post story. Let me read an excerpt from that story:
``The family of 38-year-old Hall, who leaves behind two young
daughters and two stepsons, gave their permission for the media to
cover his Arlington burial--a decision many grieving families make so
that the nation will learn about their loved ones' sacrifice. But the
military had other ideas, and they arranged the marine's burial
yesterday so that no sound, and few images, would make it into the
public domain.''
They don't want you to see the faces of our fallen heroes, and in my
view that's outrageous. Lieutenant Colonel Hall is the highest ranking
military officer to fall in Iraq. He went to Garfield High School in
Seattle. He deserves to be buried according to the wishes of his
family, not hidden from view, because the people running this war only
want you to see the images that proclaim Mission Accomplished. I will
not accept this disrespect for our soldiers and their families, or the
outright distortion of the truth about the war. To honor our fallen
heroes, I and many of my colleagues here in Washington have easels
outside our congressional offices with pictures and the names of
service men and women who have died in Iraq.
Outside my office, there are three boards with the photographs of 94
soldiers from the State of Washington who have fallen in Iraq. Brave
fallen heroes, including:
Specialist Christopher W. Dickison,
Major William G. Hall,
Lance Corporal Daniel Chavez,
1st Lieutenant Michael R. Adams,
Specialist Joshua M. Boyd,
Staff Sergeant Tracy L. Melvin,
Sergeant 1st Class Steven M. Langmack, all from Seattle.
I will enter into the Record the Web address where you can see the
faces and the names of the fallen from every State:
http://projects.washingtonpost.com/fallen/search/
Instead of helping to provide closure to these wounded families, the
President's surrogates are deepening the wounds for these families.
They only want to share their grief and the pride in their loved ones.
Who wouldn't be proud of Billy Hall? They want to share that with us.
Today, in full view, let us honor the ultimate sacrifice made by
Lieutenant Colonel Billy Hall and the fallen soldiers from Washington
and across this country.
Moment of Silence
I ask for a moment of silence in honor of the following:
Sgt. Nathan P. Hayes, 21
Staff Sgt. Juan M. Ridout, 29
Lance Cpl. Cedric E. Bruns, 22
Spc. Justin W. Hebert, 20
Pfc. Kerry D. Scott, 21
Spc. John P. Johnson, 24
2nd Lt. Benjamin J. Colgan, 30
Spc. Robert Benson, 20
Sgt. Jay A. Blessing, 23
Spc. Nathan W. Nakis, 19
Sgt. Curt E. Jordan, Jr., 25
Staff Sgt. Christopher Bunda, 29
1st Lt. Michael R. Adams, 24
Spc. Jacob R. Herring, 21
Spc. Jeffrey R. Shaver, 26
Pfc. Cody S. Calavan, 19
Lance Cpl. Dustin L. Sides, 22
Staff Sgt. Marvin Best, 33
Spc. Jeremiah Schmunk, 21
Capt. Gergory A. Ratzlaff, 36
Sgt. Yadir Reynoso, 27
Lance Cpl. Kane M. Funke, 20
Lance Cpl. Caleb J. Powers, 21
Sgt. Jason Cook, 25
Sgt. Jacob H. Demand, 29
Cpl. Steven Rintamaki, 29
Staff Sgt. Michael Lee Burbank, 34
Spc. Jonathan J. Santos, 22
Staff Sgt. David G. Ries, 29
Lance Cpl. Nathan R. Wood, 19
Spc. Blain M. Ebert, 22
Spc. Harley D. R. Miller, 21
Pfc. Andrew M. Ward, 25
Staff Sgt. Kyle A. Eggers, 27
Pfc. Curtis L. Wooten III, 20
Chief Warrant Officer Clint J. Prather, 46
Maj. Steve Thornton, 46
Cpl. Jeffrey B. Starr, 22
Staff Sgt. Casey J. Crate, 26
Sgt. 1st Class Steven Langmack, 33
Lance Cpl. Daniel Chaves, 20
Spc. Christopher W. Dickison, 26
Lance Cpl. Shane C. Swanberg, 24
Sgt. 1st Class Lawrence Morrison, 45
Staff Sgt. Travis W. Nixon, 24
Cpl. Joseph P. Bier, 22
Staff Sgt. Christopher J. Vanderhorn, 37
1st Lt. Jaime L. Campbell, 25
Sgt. Charles E. Matheny IV, 23
Staff Sgt. Abraham Twitchell, 28
Spc. Eric D. King, 28
1st Lt. Forrest Ewens, 25
Pfc. Devon J. Gibbons, 28
Sgt. Justin D. Norton, 21
Pfc. Jason Hanson, 21
Staff Sgt. Tracy L. Melvin, 31
Spc. David J. Ramsey, 27
Master Sgt. Robb G. Needham, 51
Sgt. Velton Locklear III, 29
Staff Sgt. Ronald L. Paulsen, 53
Sgt. Lucas T. White, 28
Spc. Jordan W. Hess, 26
Maj. Megan M. McClung, 34
Cpl. Jeremiah J. Johnson, 23
Spc. James D. Riekena, 22
Cpl. Darrel J. Morris, 21
Maj. Alan R. Johnson, 44
Sgt. Mickel D. Garrigus, 24
Lance Cpl. Adam Q. Emul, 19
Sgt. Corey J. Aultz, 31
Sgt. Travis. D. Pfister, 27
Spc. Ryan M. Bell, 21
Spc. Joshua M. Boyd
Staff Sgt. Casey D. Combs, 28
Staff Sgt. Coby G. Schwab, 25
Spc. Kelly B. Grothe, 21
Pfc. Jerome J. Potter, 24
Sgt. Dariek E. Dehn, 32
Cpl. Llythaniele Fender, 21
Pfc. Casey S. Carriker, 20
Chief Warrant Officer Scott A.M. Oswell, 33
Lance Cpl. Shawn V. Starkovich, 20
Pvt. Michael A. Bologa, 21
Cpl. Jason M. Kessler, 29
Sgt. Bryce D. Howard, 24
Spc. Matthew J. Emerson, 20
Spc. Vincent G. Kamka, 23
Lance Cpl. Jeremy W. Burris, 22
Sgt. 1st Class Johnny C. Walls, 41
Cpl. Christopher J. Nelson, 22
Sgt. Phillip R. Anderson, 28
Lance Cpl. Dustin L. Canham, 21
Spc. Durrell L. Bennett, 22
Lt. Col. William G. Hall, 38
____
[From the Seattle Times, Apr. 18, 2004]
The Somber Task of Honoring the Fallen
(By Hal Bernton)
The aluminum boxes, in ordered rows, are bound by clean
white straps on freshly scrubbed pallets. American flags are
draped evenly over the boxes. Uniformed honor guards form on
either side of the pallets as they move from the tarmac to
the entryways of the cargo planes. There are prayers, salutes
and hands on hearts. Then the caskets are carefully placed in
cargo holds for a flight to Germany.
In recent weeks, military and civilian contract crews have
loaded scores of these caskets onto planes departing the U.S.
military area of Kuwait International Airport, south of
Kuwait City. And the rituals are repeated over and over
again.
``The way everyone salutes with such emotion and intensity
and respect. The families would be proud to see their sons
and daughters saluted like that,'' says Tami Silicio, a
contract employee from the Seattle area who works the night
shift at the cargo terminal.
For U.S. troops, April has been the worst month of this
war, with at least 94 service members killed by hostile fire.
``So far this month, almost every night we send them
home,'' Silicio said. ``. . . It's tough. Very tough.''
The remains arrive at the Kuwait airport accompanied by a
soldier, sometimes a comrade from the same unit. On one
occasion, the comrade was also the victim's father. Another
time, the comrade was the wife.
Silicio knows what it is like to lose a child. The mother
of three sons suffered the
[[Page H2767]]
death of her oldest to a brain tumor when he was 19. ``It
kind of helps me to know what these mothers are going
through, and I try to watch over their children as they head
home,'' she said in an interview conducted by telephone and
e-mail.
Silicio, who grew up in Seattle and Edmonds, is used to
hard work. After a decade of events-decorating work in the
Seattle area, she went to war-torn Kosovo, where she worked
on the transportation crew for a contractor during the NATO
peacekeeping mission in 1999.
``Nothing scares her,'' said Silicio's mother, Leona
Silicio.
Tami Silicio first went to work at the Kuwait airport in
March 2003, before the start of the war. She then returned
home but found it tough to get a job in an economy still sour
from the recession. So by last October, she was back in
Kuwait and her airport job for a contractor that works with
the military to coordinate and process airport cargo.
The crews help move thousands of tons of supplies onto the
Iraq-bound flights that support the U.S. military forces.
Much of Silicio's job is handling paperwork to track the
cargo. But she also might drive equipment to help load cargo,
or make a quick run to a Kentucky Fried Chicken outlet to
secure a few savory buckets to offer a soldier just in from
Iraq.
Around Christmas, she helped handle a rash of incoming
cargo from the United States--candy, shaving cream, razors,
baby wipes and other items in care packages headed to
Iraq.``Thank God, no fruitcakes,'' she e-mailed her mother.
``The soldiers would just give it to the Iraqis, anyway.''
Just after Christmas, there was a marathon of work as
medical supplies to aid Iranian earthquake victims moved
through Kuwait.
And now, the crews are helping to coordinate the departures
of dozens of U.S. civilian contractors who, with the recent
violence and kidnappings, no longer want to risk being in the
region.
More time also is devoted to the dead. The fallen come into
Kuwait on flights from Baghdad. Before they are loaded onto
the outbound aircraft, soldiers in full uniform form parallel
lines along the tarmac. There is a prayer. Then loaders lift
up the coffins, which are joined on board by soldiers who
share the final journey. After going first to Germany,
according to the military, they fly to Dover Air Base in
Delaware.
Since the 1991 Gulf War, photographs of coffins as they
return to the United States have been tightly restricted. And
few such photographs have been published during the conflict
in Iraq.
On the April day depicted in the photograph that
accompanies this story, more than 20 coffins went into a
cargo plane bound for Germany. Silicio says those who lost
loved ones in Iraq should understand the care and devotion
that civilians and military crews dedicate to the task of
returning the soldiers home.
Silicio says she shares her motto, ``Purpose and Cause,''
with colleagues who appear worn down from the job: ``We serve
a purpose and we have a cause--that's what living life is all
about.''
____
[From the Washington Post, Apr. 24, 2008]
What the Family Would Let You See, The Pentagon Obstructs
(By Dana Milbank)
Lt. Col. Billy Hall, one of the most senior officers to be
killed in the Iraq war, was laid to rest yesterday at
Arlington National Cemetery. It's hard to escape the
conclusion that the Pentagon doesn't want you to know that.
The family of 38-year-old Hall, who leaves behind two young
daughters and two stepsons, gave their permission for the
media to cover his Arlington burial--a decision many grieving
families make so that the nation will learn about their loved
ones' sacrifice. But the military had other ideas, and they
arranged the Marine's burial yesterday so that no sound, and
few images, would make it into the public domain.
That's a shame, because Hall's story is a moving reminder
that the war in Iraq, forgotten by much of the nation,
remains real and present for some. Among those unlikely to
forget the war: 6-year-old Gladys and 3-year-old Tatianna.
The rest of the nation, if it remembers Hall at all, will
remember him as the 4,011th American service member to die in
Iraq, give or take, and the 419th to be buried at Arlington.
Gladys and Tatianna will remember him as Dad.
The two girls were there in Section 60 yesterday beside
grave 8,672--or at least it appeared that they were from a
distance. Journalists were held 50 yards from the service,
separated from the mourning party by six or seven rows of
graves, and staring into the sun and penned in by a yellow
rope. Photographers and reporters pleaded with Arlington
officials.
``There will be a yellow rope in the face of the next of
kin,'' protested one photographer with a large telephoto
lens.
``This is the best shot you're going to get,'' a man from
the cemetery replied.
``We're not going to be able to hear a thing,'' a reporter
argued.
``Mm-hmm,'' an Arlington official answered.
The distance made it impossible to hear the words of
Chaplain Ron Nordan, who, an official news release said, was
leading the service. Even a reporter who stood
surreptitiously just behind the mourners could make out only
the familiar strains of the Lord's Prayer. Whatever Chaplain
Nordan had to say about Hall's valor and sacrifice were lost
to the drone of airplanes leaving National Airport.
It had the feel of a throwback to Donald Rumsfeld's
Pentagon, when the military cracked down on photographs of
flag-draped caskets returning home from the war. Rumsfeld
himself was exposed for failing to sign by hand the
condolence letters he sent to the next of kin. His successor,
Robert Gates, has brought some glasnost to the Pentagon, but
the military funerals remain tightly controlled. Even when
families approve media coverage for a funeral, the
journalists are held at a distance for the pageantry--the
caisson, the band, the firing party, ``Taps,'' the presenting
of the flag--then whisked away when the service itself
begins.
Nor does the blocking of funeral coverage seem to be the
work of overzealous bureaucrats. Gina Gray, Arlington's new
public affairs director, pushed vigorously to allow the
journalists more access to the service yesterday--but she was
apparently shot down by other cemetery officials.
Media whining? Perhaps. But the de facto ban on media at
Arlington funerals fits neatly with an effort by the
administration to sanitize the war in Iraq. That, in turn,
has contributed to a public boredom with the war. A Pew
Research Center poll earlier this month found that 14 percent
of Americans considered Iraq the news story of most
interest--less than half the 32 percent hooked on the
presidential campaign and barely more than the 11 percent
hooked on the raid of a polygamist compound in Texas.
On March 29, a week before the raid on the polygamists'
ranch, William G. Hall was riding from his quarters to the
place in Fallujah where he was training Iraqi troops when his
vehicle hit an improvised explosive device. He was taken into
surgery, but he died from his injuries. The Marines awarded
him a posthumous promotion from major to lieutenant colonel.
Newspapers in Seattle, where Hall had lived, printed an e-
mail the fallen fighter had sent his family two days before
his death.
``I am sure the first question in each of your minds is my
safety, and I am happy to tell you that I'm safe and doing
well,'' he wrote, giving his family a hopeful picture of
events in Iraq. ``I know most of what you hear on the news
about Iraq is not usually good news and that so many are
dying over here,'' the e-mail said. ``That is true to an
extent but it does not paint the total picture, and violence
is not everywhere throughout the country. So please don't
associate what you see on the news with all of Iraq. ``Love
you and miss you,'' he wrote. ``I'll write again soon.''
Except, of course, that he didn't. And yesterday, his
family walked slowly behind the horse-drawn caisson to
section 60. In the front row of mourners, one young girl
trudged along, clinging to a grown-up's hand; another child
found a ride on an adult's shoulders.
It was a moving scene--and one the Pentagon shouldn't try
to hide from the American public.
____________________