INTERVIEW WITH NADIA McCAFFREY

Nadia McCaffrey� son, Patrick, 34, served with the 579 Engineer Battalion attached to the 81^st Brigade of Washington.Patrick was shot to death on June 22, 2004 at Balad, Iraq.

Nadia: When I received the phone call that Patrick had been killed I was on a trip to Palm Springs. I immediately left and drove back home by myself. I cried, of course, but, by the time I reached home, I felt I had a grasp on the reality of the situation.

Patrick, my only child, was the center of my life. We were very close. He was a very wise soul; even when he was very young, things were clear to him. He knew wrong from right and I respected him. I remember telling him that, until he came along, I� only completely respected one man in my life and that was my grandfather. I told Patrick he was the second man I respected completely. I really felt deeply about him.

Patrick grew up in the San Francisco bay area and graduated from high school in Cupertino. Before he died in Iraq he was living in Tracy with his wife, Silvia, three-year-old daughter, Janessa, and nine-year-old son, Patrick, Jr. Patrick was General Manager at Akins in Palo Alto. He was making a good salary and did not need anything from the Army at all.

He signed up for the National Guard the day after 9/11. He joined because he wanted to make a difference. He wanted to help. In his mind, as in the minds of many other people, the National Guard was designed to protect people in this country in case of emergencies. I don� blame him for joining the Guard and recognize that, under the circumstances, I may have done the same thing.

When Patrick told me he was being deployed to Iraq we talked about it in as much detail as we could.

He said, �ou know, the day I signed my papers I took my responsibility seriously and I won� shrink from it.�/p>

What could I say?

Then he left for Iraq in March of 2004. At first he tried to make sense about it and he tried to be hopeful about the situation in Iraq.

Not since WWII has the National Guard been sent overseas for combat. Our government is sending Guardsmen as old as 68 to fight in Iraq. Most who join the Guard spend a weekend a month training but suddenly they�e deployed to fight in Iraq. This is the logic of our government today and I� sorry but I don� agree with it.

Patrick was not a fool and he suspected from the beginning that a lot of lies were being told to American citizens. He called from Germany and from Kuwait and said, �om, look at the bright side of it. Maybe we can make a difference; maybe there really is something we can do to help these people. Or maybe there is something that we, as citizens, don� see.�/p>

After his first mission in Iraq he called and he was so disgusted. He said, �om, I don� know why we�e here. I don� know what we�e doing here. There is nothing going on here: we�e not building anything; the water is not running; there is no electricity anywhere. There is nothing here but demolition and ruins.�/p>

He also realized that local people, ordinary people, are very angry at the occupation. He told me, "They display their anger with raised fists and throw garbage at us. They stare at us with so much hate that it hurts.�/p>

He was very hurt inside by these displays. On top of that he was not doing what he was trained to do. Instead he was training Iraqi soldiers and police. But they were the ones that killed him.

He also worked as a Combat Life Saver and that was very important to him. He took it very seriously and it was a perfect fit for him because he� always been health conscious; he was a body builder who watched his own health and the health of others. And he watched over his whole unit like a father. I still get emails from people that knew him from his early days of training and they are so sad and angry at the news of this death.

In Iraq Patrick turned to helping local children and was giving bottled water and food to them every time he went off the base. He wanted to give them toys too and asked us to ship boxes of toys to him, along with shoes. He also helped them medically. If he saw a wounded or hurt child he helped that child. So they knew him. He also turned to the soldiers to keep up their morale. He shared pictures of his family that he wore on a chain around his neck to soldiers on the base. He talked about family and hope and being cheerful. If he saw a soldier sitting down and crying he� walk over and just hug him.

I work with the dying. I� a volunteer and don� get paid for what I do and Patrick always gently made fun of me for doing it. He said, �h, Mom, you�l never make any money to support yourself properly but don� worry, I�l be here to take care of you.�The funny thing is that there he was in Iraq doing the same thing as me: taking care of people and not getting paid for it.

The temperature was 145 degrees the day Patrick was killed. He was carrying a seventy-five pound radio on this back, plus his medical bag, plus a mine detector. He was not carrying his usual weapon but an M16 that belonged to his bunkmate and friend. But it was so hot that Patrick� commanding officer and another soldier collapsed from heat exhaustion �which is why Patrick was carrying the radio.

I don� know yet the details of what happened that resulted in his death. Some of the soldiers who saw something of what happened have shared that information with me and one of the soldiers did a detailed report. That soldiers is now being threatened by the military with court martial for making his report public.

What I can make out is that, on this day, June 22, there was a blunder by the officers and Patrick and two other soldiers were separated from the unit. They were walking single file followed by five Iraqi trainees. Second Lt. Andre Tyson, the soldier in front of the line of Iraqis was executed with two shots behind the head at close range. 

Patrick was in front of Tyson and when he heard the shots he swung around and started shooting. From what I can make out, Patrick wounded or maybe killed one of the Iraqi shooters. Patrick was killed by two men coming on either side of him shooting with automatic weapons. He was wounded through his armored vest and died of massive internal bleeding. The trainees totally vanished after the attack. 

I�e heard other stories of soldiers being attacked by men they were training. In one case, a unit that had gone out at night in pitch dark was attacked. Using night vision equipment soldiers captured their attackers and discovered they were the same men they had trained that afternoon!

And I�e been told about another thing going on: corruption in the US military chain of command and very little real leadership. Not only that, Patrick asked me to raise money to supply satellite phones for his unit. The 579 Alpha unit from Petaluma, California, is attached to the 81^st Brigade of Washington. The Washington unit has all the privileges it is due but the 579 doesn�. (Read more about this from soldiers on site in which Patrick is quoted.)

Before Patrick was deployed there was a gathering of family members and I saw some of the equipment they were supplied. I couldn� believe it! Much of it was falling apart! Humvees had no doors and were closed with a chain.

The day Patrick was killed his unit had 2 �3 hours of sleep; the mission started at 3:00 am; they didn� have food; and took only one break at 10:00 am. He was dead an hour later.

After Patrick was killed and his body was on the way home, I decided to highlight what happened to my son in Iraq. I invited the media to take and distribute pictures and video of Patrick� coffin arriving at Sacramento International Airport. Yes, this administration has a policy of banning on-base photographing of coffins returning from Iraq and Afghanistan. But Sacramento Airport isn� a military base. And, frankly, I don� care what Bush wants.

The main reason I decided to do this is that I believe people need to know what is going on, not just here, but also in Iraq. We cannot ignore anymore what is going on ...I speak as a mother and as a human being.

The gesture was also for my grandchildren, for my ex-husband, and for me later in life. My granddaughter is three years old. She will not remember her dad. My grandson is nine, and he will forget. Right now they both remember the day their dad stepped on the plane and left for Iraq.

But a flag-draped coffin arriving in Sacramento was the way he came home.

See also, "Who's dying in our wars"