thedrifter
09-27-07, 10:31 AM
He may have only one year of military service, but Lance Cpl. Michael Atem’s current deployment to Iraq isn’t his first time in a war zone. In fact, he may have more experience with the ravages of war than most of the U.S. military’s senior leaders.
Every day, the 28-year-old wakes up to the all too familiar setting of a war zone and goes to work at the Travel Management Office, 2nd Supply Battalion, 2nd Marine Logistics Group (Forward). He makes use of his limited Arabic to communicate with the contracted civilians working with coalition forces.
“I know my Arabic is not excellent, but I can understand them and I can talk back with them,” said Atem, who directs the workers as they operate equipment to load and unload supplies.
This budding skill is accompanied by many others, honed and ripened during his upbringing in Africa, and his time as a refugee of Sudan’s second civil war.
“The life in Iraq I don’t think is so hard because I’ve experienced a lot of difficulties when I was young,” said Atem.
Those difficulties are Atem’s earliest memories of Sudan. During his childhood, fighting between the country’s northern Arabs and southern non-Arabs reached the city of Bor near his village. Atem’s father, unable to enter the city for medicine, died from disease.
He continued to live with his mother and other family members until an Arab militia attacked his village, burning it and its crops. The ordeal had driven many people out of the area and separated 8-year-old Atem from his mother.
But, Atem said this was only the beginning of many misfortunes to come that gave him strength to help him as a Marine since the beginning, since basic training.
“You’re hungry and you’re tired,” he said, recalling his recruit days. “You keep moving from point A to point B with all the gear. I did this before.”
And he did it for many miles as he walked with thousands of other refugees from southern Sudan bound for Ethiopia. Along the way, lives were lost to hunger, disease and even wild animals.
“The hyenas just came out and attacked the kids,” Atem explained. “If you go to Sudan, do not walk at night by yourself. You’re going to be eaten.”
The refugees also endured attacks from the Arab militia.
“Some got weapons from the government,” Atem said. “They hid in bushes. When they saw us, it was their chance to attack us. Many lost their lives in front of us.”
While food and water were limited and carefully rationed, adversity in the group was aplenty. As they sweated through the miles, many cooled off with mud. After two months, Atem said they were able to land themselves in a better situation at a refugee camp in Ponyido, Ethiopia. Although Ethiopia was embroiled in a border dispute with another of its neighbors, Eritrea, the government allowed the refugees to enter.
It was here Atem would begin first grade. This was the beginning of his desire for education.
“Schooling helped me learn English and now I can interact with people in the Marine Corps,” he explained.
Atem is also fluent in Swahili and Dinka, a tribal language of Sudan. Though his English may have been of benefit when he moved to the States, the languages he learned as a child enabled him to adapt in Ethiopia as he progressed through the fourth grade.
Unfortunately, that’s as far as he would take his education there. The war between Ethiopia and Eritrea had escalated. Those opposing Ethiopian President Mengitsu Haile Mariam’s regime had compelled him to flee the country in fear of retaliation for murders that enabled him to continue his reign.
Uncertain of what the political turmoil would spell for them, the refugees decided to relocate again. Besides, they wanted no part of this conflict, Atem said. It was a long walk back.
Atem was 12 at this point. The refugees, once again, lost many lives, this time at the hands of the Eritrean government.
As the refugees traveled south along the River Gilo, which divides part of Ethiopia and Sudan, hoping to reach calmer waters before crossing, Atem said the invading Eritreans opened fire, unable to distinguish the travelers from their enemy. The attacks sent many running to make an early attempt to cross to Sudan, which lay just on the other side of the river. Some swam to salvation. Many others were shot or drowned.
These losses, in addition to those due to hunger, disease and animal attacks, took their toll on the refugees. But after two weeks of walking, the survivors finally reached the Sudanese city of Pochala.
The city was defended by a group of rebels called the Sudan People’s Liberation Army. In order to survive, the refugees aligned themselves with the group, which welcomed them and offered protection. The Sudanese government, meanwhile, launched aerial bombing attacks on the city after becoming aware of the refugees’ arrival. The attacks missed their intended target, however, instead hitting a herd of cattle.
After residing in the city for six months, many decided to move to different areas. But, war in the region seemed inescapable.
Some took their chances and went back to Ethiopia, some made their way to other Sudanese cities or stayed put in Pochala.
“Not me,” said Atem. “I went to Kenya.”
Atem and many other refugees walked southeast for a month, during which Pochala was overrun by Sudanese government forces. Many of those who stayed were killed or captured and sent to Khartoum, Sudan’s capital city.
Once in Kenya, Atem was able to finish his education. He spent nine years in the country, enabling him to complete the 12th grade.
“When I finished my high school, that was the time the U.S. government decided to resettle us. I volunteered to go and teach primary school (in Kenya) for nine months before I left.”
Though Atem said his situation in Kenya was preferable to being in Sudan, the U.S. government’s decision to resettle approximately 3,800 refugees, as part of those who would become known as the Lost Boys of Sudan, surely spared them a great deal of hardship.
“Certain tribes attacked us at night. They would come and take our gear and they killed our pastor,” he explained. “There was no war though. I call it crime. Even in the U.S., people kill people.”
Atem went to Lansing, Mich., where one of his cousins was also staying. But in doing this, he left behind almost all of his family.
“When I get the chance in the future, I will go see them,” he said. “I miss Sudan. I would like to go and see where we were living.”
Atem said he only maintained limited contact with some of his family members in Kenya, who acted as a liaison for his family in Sudan. But, he didn’t let missing his family keep him from taking advantage of his “easier” life, free from the dangers of a war-plagued country.
He immediately got a job and, even with an intense work schedule, Atem sought to continue his education, taking on the responsibilities of a full-time student at Lansing Community College.
“I enrolled there and still worked 30 to 35 hours a week.” he said. “It was hell.”
He did this until he received his associate degree in molecular biology. That’s when he enlisted, hoping to get the military’s financial assistance in pursuing his bachelor’s degree. But, he was as interested in what he could do for the military as he was in the benefits of serving.
“I want to help the world,” he said. “I was helped when I left Sudan, so I am helping other people here now. We are here to help Iraq enjoy freedom.”
After becoming a Marine, Atem began sending much of his money to his mother, who was still in Bor, Sudan. Over time, he had finally sent her the money she needed to get the necessary travel documents to fly to the United States. It would be the first time he had seen her since the day their village was burned 20 years ago.
“When I met her, I stayed with (her and my cousin) in a hotel and bought them some food,” he said. “I already added her to my account, so she can get money from me if she needs it.”
Four days after the two were reunited, Atem deployed.
“I told her I’ll call,” he said.
She now stays in Lansing, Mich., with Atem’s cousin. She doesn’t speak English, but Atem said he hopes to teach her so she can adapt to the culture of the United States. He said he at first needed to explain his military service, something not perceived as honorable in Sudan.
Atem has walked from one country to another trying to evade war, crime, hunger and disease. Of all the countries he has been to and all the locations he has family, he has applied for citizenship in the United States and hopes his mother will become a legal citizen with him.
When the time comes, Atem’s flight to the United States from his current deployment in Iraq may be his final goodbye to the lifestyles of a war zone. It seems this journey is the trip that will finally take him to the place he can call home.
Every day, the 28-year-old wakes up to the all too familiar setting of a war zone and goes to work at the Travel Management Office, 2nd Supply Battalion, 2nd Marine Logistics Group (Forward). He makes use of his limited Arabic to communicate with the contracted civilians working with coalition forces.
“I know my Arabic is not excellent, but I can understand them and I can talk back with them,” said Atem, who directs the workers as they operate equipment to load and unload supplies.
This budding skill is accompanied by many others, honed and ripened during his upbringing in Africa, and his time as a refugee of Sudan’s second civil war.
“The life in Iraq I don’t think is so hard because I’ve experienced a lot of difficulties when I was young,” said Atem.
Those difficulties are Atem’s earliest memories of Sudan. During his childhood, fighting between the country’s northern Arabs and southern non-Arabs reached the city of Bor near his village. Atem’s father, unable to enter the city for medicine, died from disease.
He continued to live with his mother and other family members until an Arab militia attacked his village, burning it and its crops. The ordeal had driven many people out of the area and separated 8-year-old Atem from his mother.
But, Atem said this was only the beginning of many misfortunes to come that gave him strength to help him as a Marine since the beginning, since basic training.
“You’re hungry and you’re tired,” he said, recalling his recruit days. “You keep moving from point A to point B with all the gear. I did this before.”
And he did it for many miles as he walked with thousands of other refugees from southern Sudan bound for Ethiopia. Along the way, lives were lost to hunger, disease and even wild animals.
“The hyenas just came out and attacked the kids,” Atem explained. “If you go to Sudan, do not walk at night by yourself. You’re going to be eaten.”
The refugees also endured attacks from the Arab militia.
“Some got weapons from the government,” Atem said. “They hid in bushes. When they saw us, it was their chance to attack us. Many lost their lives in front of us.”
While food and water were limited and carefully rationed, adversity in the group was aplenty. As they sweated through the miles, many cooled off with mud. After two months, Atem said they were able to land themselves in a better situation at a refugee camp in Ponyido, Ethiopia. Although Ethiopia was embroiled in a border dispute with another of its neighbors, Eritrea, the government allowed the refugees to enter.
It was here Atem would begin first grade. This was the beginning of his desire for education.
“Schooling helped me learn English and now I can interact with people in the Marine Corps,” he explained.
Atem is also fluent in Swahili and Dinka, a tribal language of Sudan. Though his English may have been of benefit when he moved to the States, the languages he learned as a child enabled him to adapt in Ethiopia as he progressed through the fourth grade.
Unfortunately, that’s as far as he would take his education there. The war between Ethiopia and Eritrea had escalated. Those opposing Ethiopian President Mengitsu Haile Mariam’s regime had compelled him to flee the country in fear of retaliation for murders that enabled him to continue his reign.
Uncertain of what the political turmoil would spell for them, the refugees decided to relocate again. Besides, they wanted no part of this conflict, Atem said. It was a long walk back.
Atem was 12 at this point. The refugees, once again, lost many lives, this time at the hands of the Eritrean government.
As the refugees traveled south along the River Gilo, which divides part of Ethiopia and Sudan, hoping to reach calmer waters before crossing, Atem said the invading Eritreans opened fire, unable to distinguish the travelers from their enemy. The attacks sent many running to make an early attempt to cross to Sudan, which lay just on the other side of the river. Some swam to salvation. Many others were shot or drowned.
These losses, in addition to those due to hunger, disease and animal attacks, took their toll on the refugees. But after two weeks of walking, the survivors finally reached the Sudanese city of Pochala.
The city was defended by a group of rebels called the Sudan People’s Liberation Army. In order to survive, the refugees aligned themselves with the group, which welcomed them and offered protection. The Sudanese government, meanwhile, launched aerial bombing attacks on the city after becoming aware of the refugees’ arrival. The attacks missed their intended target, however, instead hitting a herd of cattle.
After residing in the city for six months, many decided to move to different areas. But, war in the region seemed inescapable.
Some took their chances and went back to Ethiopia, some made their way to other Sudanese cities or stayed put in Pochala.
“Not me,” said Atem. “I went to Kenya.”
Atem and many other refugees walked southeast for a month, during which Pochala was overrun by Sudanese government forces. Many of those who stayed were killed or captured and sent to Khartoum, Sudan’s capital city.
Once in Kenya, Atem was able to finish his education. He spent nine years in the country, enabling him to complete the 12th grade.
“When I finished my high school, that was the time the U.S. government decided to resettle us. I volunteered to go and teach primary school (in Kenya) for nine months before I left.”
Though Atem said his situation in Kenya was preferable to being in Sudan, the U.S. government’s decision to resettle approximately 3,800 refugees, as part of those who would become known as the Lost Boys of Sudan, surely spared them a great deal of hardship.
“Certain tribes attacked us at night. They would come and take our gear and they killed our pastor,” he explained. “There was no war though. I call it crime. Even in the U.S., people kill people.”
Atem went to Lansing, Mich., where one of his cousins was also staying. But in doing this, he left behind almost all of his family.
“When I get the chance in the future, I will go see them,” he said. “I miss Sudan. I would like to go and see where we were living.”
Atem said he only maintained limited contact with some of his family members in Kenya, who acted as a liaison for his family in Sudan. But, he didn’t let missing his family keep him from taking advantage of his “easier” life, free from the dangers of a war-plagued country.
He immediately got a job and, even with an intense work schedule, Atem sought to continue his education, taking on the responsibilities of a full-time student at Lansing Community College.
“I enrolled there and still worked 30 to 35 hours a week.” he said. “It was hell.”
He did this until he received his associate degree in molecular biology. That’s when he enlisted, hoping to get the military’s financial assistance in pursuing his bachelor’s degree. But, he was as interested in what he could do for the military as he was in the benefits of serving.
“I want to help the world,” he said. “I was helped when I left Sudan, so I am helping other people here now. We are here to help Iraq enjoy freedom.”
After becoming a Marine, Atem began sending much of his money to his mother, who was still in Bor, Sudan. Over time, he had finally sent her the money she needed to get the necessary travel documents to fly to the United States. It would be the first time he had seen her since the day their village was burned 20 years ago.
“When I met her, I stayed with (her and my cousin) in a hotel and bought them some food,” he said. “I already added her to my account, so she can get money from me if she needs it.”
Four days after the two were reunited, Atem deployed.
“I told her I’ll call,” he said.
She now stays in Lansing, Mich., with Atem’s cousin. She doesn’t speak English, but Atem said he hopes to teach her so she can adapt to the culture of the United States. He said he at first needed to explain his military service, something not perceived as honorable in Sudan.
Atem has walked from one country to another trying to evade war, crime, hunger and disease. Of all the countries he has been to and all the locations he has family, he has applied for citizenship in the United States and hopes his mother will become a legal citizen with him.
When the time comes, Atem’s flight to the United States from his current deployment in Iraq may be his final goodbye to the lifestyles of a war zone. It seems this journey is the trip that will finally take him to the place he can call home.