thedrifter
05-23-06, 08:05 AM
Slow going in Iraq
May 23, 2006
By Danielle Braff / Post-Tribune staff writer
He wasn’t old enough to drink when he killed the first time.
Lance Cpl. Vincent Emanuele, now 21, had prepared himself for that moment for the previous three years. It was drilled into him during boot camp, and he knew it was part of his job. He was doing it to protect himself, to protect his friends, he repeated to himself.
But when the time finally came, and he pointed his gun at a stranger, he was horrified.
He pulled the trigger once and the man dropped to the ground.
Now, months later, Emanuele stands among the Northwest Indiana protesters, begging Bush to pull U.S. troops out of the conflict.
The president stopped in Chicago on Monday to talk publicly about the war, at a time when his approval rating is at an all time low. Bush adamantly defended his plan, but Nick Egnatz, member and organizer of the Northwest Indiana Coalition Against the War, said he wasn’t swayed.
“He isn’t listening to us,” Egnatz said, acknowledging that while Bush’s visit was a nice gesture, the Northwest Indiana coalition will continue its weekly protests in Highland, Crown Point, Valparaiso and Gary until the war ends.
So far, Emanuele is the only Iraq veteran protesting in the region, Egnatz said, but he said he wouldn’t be surprised if more joined once they finished their tours of duty.
One man’s struggle
If Egnatz’s predictions are correct, Emanuele soon will be surrounded by peers. But for now, Emanuele is an anomaly, and his status puts him in a tricky place. He voluntarily joined the war and never attempted to claim conscientious objector status.
Many of those whom he fought with are turning against him because of his new views, but he doesn’t quite connect with those who have never been in his position.
It’s hard for people to understand Emanuele’s history. Most don’t realize what’s it’s like to stare at a dead man’s Adidas jogging pants, his beard and dark hair.
Emanuele does. He crouched over the man, and he stayed there, almost frozen, for the next half hour as he waited for backup.
This isn’t the story of someone who believes he did the right thing for his country, who was proud he served. It is the story of a man who realized too late that fighting in Iraq was not his cause.
It’s not apparent simply from looking at him or even from talking to him. Emanuele is confident and talkative. He likes to go out on the weekends with friends.
But in an extended conversation about his recent history, one that gets past his favorite movies and the books he reads, the confusion that subtly emerges on his face tells the story.
Emanuele had never thought much about politics. He grew up on the south side of Chicago but moved to Chesterton when he was 10. His family wanted him to have a safe, happy childhood.
He came from a military family, but instead of talking about politics and war, they spoke about sports and books.
Emanuele had always planned on becoming a baseball player or at least having a baseball career during college. When he fractured his wrist as a student at Chesterton High School, however, his dreams were dashed. With no motivation to go to college immediately and no job opportunities for him in Indiana, Emanuele followed his friend to Iraq, and the two of them began their four-year term in the Marine Corps.
“I didn’t really think too much about it,” he said.
Boot camp was a blur, and Emanuele dutifully let his personality make the necessary adjustments to the Marine way of thinking.
Shortly after he arrived in Iraq, Emanuele received news that his mother was sick, so he returned to Chesterton for three months to help her recover.
It was a period of reflection, and was the first time since he joined the Marines that he finally started thinking about what he was doing.
Emanuele started paying attention to newscasts; he began picking up a newspaper once in awhile, and he became more curious about what he was fighting for.
“I was a little confused,” he said, nervously sipping a drink at Popolano’s restaurant while trying to explain how his thoughts about the war evolved. Still, after his mother recovered and his three months’ family leave were up, Emanuele dutifully returned to the Marines. He did his job, but was becoming more skeptical that he was there for a purpose.
Casualties
It all came to a head Feb. 17, 2005. Emanuele had already been in Iraq about three years, but had avoided any direct deaths.
But on that day a little more than a year ago, he and his friend were patrolling the roads for explosives. They noticed four men on the side of the Iraqi road bent over an object in the dirt.
They were planting a bomb.
Almost as if in slow motion, Emanuele remembers grabbing his gun, pointing and shooting.
One man immediately fell to the ground and the rest scrambled.
Emanuele hovered over the man he had just killed, and he stood there, talking to the body. “I’m thinking to myself, 'Why does this have to happen?’ ”
The man was in his late 20s, just a few years older than Emanuele, and while Emanuele realized the bomb potentially could have killed his friends, he still couldn’t believe he, a nice boy from Chesterton, had just taken a life.
Two days later, Emanuele witnessed his best friend get killed during combat.
“Those were the two most influential days,” he said. “You take another man’s life, and then you watch your best friend get carried away. You honestly don’t go a whole day without thinking about it.”
Emanuele was discouraged from airing his negativity about his service, but his concern that he was in Iraq for the wrong reasons was escalating inside his head.
“I really think we just wanted to make the footprint,” he said. “There’s a lot of other countries that are committing a lot of other human rights violations. If we were there to help people out, there would be dozens of other countries out.”
Still, he continued fighting, and shooting the gun as he was told. He said he has no idea how many people he killed because most of the time he was shooting blindly.
The aftermath
Emanuele returned to Chesterton in February, and has taken a job as an ironworker.
Now 21, he plans to go to college and study either politics or law, hoping to make a difference in a cause he truly believes.
But before he moves on with his career, he wants to justify what he’s done. He just doesn’t know how.
Counseling was recommended, but he wants to try something that could be more helpful to others, and he is participating in anti-war protesting. That hasn’t won him many points with fellow veterans.
Spc. Joe Gibbs of Hammond returned from Iraq in December.
He says protesting is not the answer.
“He knows what he got himself into,” Gibbs said. “We all have problems now. My buddies are getting divorced and they can’t get things out of their head. But you don’t see any of us going out there protesting.”
Emanuele knew he would be faced with many angry people when he decided to speak out against the war, but it’s a move he finally feels good about.
“I’m not going to speak for the whole country, but I could speak for myself now,” he said. “Iraq was the worst time of my life and the best.
“I learned so much about life, and I’m not going to take things for granted anymore.”
Contact Danielle Braff at 648-3079 or dbraff@post-trib.com
Ellie
May 23, 2006
By Danielle Braff / Post-Tribune staff writer
He wasn’t old enough to drink when he killed the first time.
Lance Cpl. Vincent Emanuele, now 21, had prepared himself for that moment for the previous three years. It was drilled into him during boot camp, and he knew it was part of his job. He was doing it to protect himself, to protect his friends, he repeated to himself.
But when the time finally came, and he pointed his gun at a stranger, he was horrified.
He pulled the trigger once and the man dropped to the ground.
Now, months later, Emanuele stands among the Northwest Indiana protesters, begging Bush to pull U.S. troops out of the conflict.
The president stopped in Chicago on Monday to talk publicly about the war, at a time when his approval rating is at an all time low. Bush adamantly defended his plan, but Nick Egnatz, member and organizer of the Northwest Indiana Coalition Against the War, said he wasn’t swayed.
“He isn’t listening to us,” Egnatz said, acknowledging that while Bush’s visit was a nice gesture, the Northwest Indiana coalition will continue its weekly protests in Highland, Crown Point, Valparaiso and Gary until the war ends.
So far, Emanuele is the only Iraq veteran protesting in the region, Egnatz said, but he said he wouldn’t be surprised if more joined once they finished their tours of duty.
One man’s struggle
If Egnatz’s predictions are correct, Emanuele soon will be surrounded by peers. But for now, Emanuele is an anomaly, and his status puts him in a tricky place. He voluntarily joined the war and never attempted to claim conscientious objector status.
Many of those whom he fought with are turning against him because of his new views, but he doesn’t quite connect with those who have never been in his position.
It’s hard for people to understand Emanuele’s history. Most don’t realize what’s it’s like to stare at a dead man’s Adidas jogging pants, his beard and dark hair.
Emanuele does. He crouched over the man, and he stayed there, almost frozen, for the next half hour as he waited for backup.
This isn’t the story of someone who believes he did the right thing for his country, who was proud he served. It is the story of a man who realized too late that fighting in Iraq was not his cause.
It’s not apparent simply from looking at him or even from talking to him. Emanuele is confident and talkative. He likes to go out on the weekends with friends.
But in an extended conversation about his recent history, one that gets past his favorite movies and the books he reads, the confusion that subtly emerges on his face tells the story.
Emanuele had never thought much about politics. He grew up on the south side of Chicago but moved to Chesterton when he was 10. His family wanted him to have a safe, happy childhood.
He came from a military family, but instead of talking about politics and war, they spoke about sports and books.
Emanuele had always planned on becoming a baseball player or at least having a baseball career during college. When he fractured his wrist as a student at Chesterton High School, however, his dreams were dashed. With no motivation to go to college immediately and no job opportunities for him in Indiana, Emanuele followed his friend to Iraq, and the two of them began their four-year term in the Marine Corps.
“I didn’t really think too much about it,” he said.
Boot camp was a blur, and Emanuele dutifully let his personality make the necessary adjustments to the Marine way of thinking.
Shortly after he arrived in Iraq, Emanuele received news that his mother was sick, so he returned to Chesterton for three months to help her recover.
It was a period of reflection, and was the first time since he joined the Marines that he finally started thinking about what he was doing.
Emanuele started paying attention to newscasts; he began picking up a newspaper once in awhile, and he became more curious about what he was fighting for.
“I was a little confused,” he said, nervously sipping a drink at Popolano’s restaurant while trying to explain how his thoughts about the war evolved. Still, after his mother recovered and his three months’ family leave were up, Emanuele dutifully returned to the Marines. He did his job, but was becoming more skeptical that he was there for a purpose.
Casualties
It all came to a head Feb. 17, 2005. Emanuele had already been in Iraq about three years, but had avoided any direct deaths.
But on that day a little more than a year ago, he and his friend were patrolling the roads for explosives. They noticed four men on the side of the Iraqi road bent over an object in the dirt.
They were planting a bomb.
Almost as if in slow motion, Emanuele remembers grabbing his gun, pointing and shooting.
One man immediately fell to the ground and the rest scrambled.
Emanuele hovered over the man he had just killed, and he stood there, talking to the body. “I’m thinking to myself, 'Why does this have to happen?’ ”
The man was in his late 20s, just a few years older than Emanuele, and while Emanuele realized the bomb potentially could have killed his friends, he still couldn’t believe he, a nice boy from Chesterton, had just taken a life.
Two days later, Emanuele witnessed his best friend get killed during combat.
“Those were the two most influential days,” he said. “You take another man’s life, and then you watch your best friend get carried away. You honestly don’t go a whole day without thinking about it.”
Emanuele was discouraged from airing his negativity about his service, but his concern that he was in Iraq for the wrong reasons was escalating inside his head.
“I really think we just wanted to make the footprint,” he said. “There’s a lot of other countries that are committing a lot of other human rights violations. If we were there to help people out, there would be dozens of other countries out.”
Still, he continued fighting, and shooting the gun as he was told. He said he has no idea how many people he killed because most of the time he was shooting blindly.
The aftermath
Emanuele returned to Chesterton in February, and has taken a job as an ironworker.
Now 21, he plans to go to college and study either politics or law, hoping to make a difference in a cause he truly believes.
But before he moves on with his career, he wants to justify what he’s done. He just doesn’t know how.
Counseling was recommended, but he wants to try something that could be more helpful to others, and he is participating in anti-war protesting. That hasn’t won him many points with fellow veterans.
Spc. Joe Gibbs of Hammond returned from Iraq in December.
He says protesting is not the answer.
“He knows what he got himself into,” Gibbs said. “We all have problems now. My buddies are getting divorced and they can’t get things out of their head. But you don’t see any of us going out there protesting.”
Emanuele knew he would be faced with many angry people when he decided to speak out against the war, but it’s a move he finally feels good about.
“I’m not going to speak for the whole country, but I could speak for myself now,” he said. “Iraq was the worst time of my life and the best.
“I learned so much about life, and I’m not going to take things for granted anymore.”
Contact Danielle Braff at 648-3079 or dbraff@post-trib.com
Ellie