[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 154 (2008), Part 5]
[House]
[Pages 7160-7162]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




                        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.

[[Page 7161]]

  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 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.''

[[Page 7162]]

       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.

                          ____________________