thedrifter
05-14-08, 07:29 AM
U.S. veterans try to help their interpreters leave Iraq
By Conrad Mulcahy
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
When Lieutenant Colonel Michael Zacchea left Iraq in 2005, he was torn. His yearlong mission to train an Iraqi Army battalion had left him wounded and emotionally drained, and he was eager to go. But leaving Iraq also meant leaving Jack, his Iraqi interpreter, to face an insurgency that has made a point of brutalizing those who help the Americans.
In their year together the two had, among other things, thwarted an assassination plot and survived the second battle of Falluja. Even before he left, Zacchea began working to ensure that Jack would not be left.
"Once the insurgents get a hold of your name, they never let up until they get you," Zacchea said.
It took two years for Jack to get a visa. He is one of the very few to succeed among thousands who have worked as interpreters for the U.S. military.
To many veterans that is not an acceptable rate, given the risks the interpreters have taken, and Zacchea and others are taking up the cause.
They have created a growing network of aid groups, spending countless hours navigating a byzantine immigration system that they feel unnecessarily keeps their allies in harm's way. There is, they say, a debt that must be repaid to the Iraqis who helped the most. To them it is an obligation both moral and pragmatic.
"It's like this disjointed underground railroad that exists," said Paul Rieckhoff, who served with the army in Iraq as a first lieutenant in 2003 and 2004. Rieckhoff is now executive director of Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America, which has more than 85,000 members and a Web site at www.iava.org.
Leaving an interpreter behind, Rieckhoff said, is "like leaving one of your soldiers back in Iraq and saying, 'Good luck, son.' "
The risk taken by interpreters in Iraq is considerable and widely documented. Those who work for the Americans are often accused of being apostates and traitors. Their homes are bombed. Death threats are wrapped around blood-soaked bullets and left outside their homes.
Their relatives are abducted and killed because of their work. And of the interpreters themselves, hundreds have been killed.
But many work in spite of the repercussions, and that dedication resonates clearly for many American soldiers and marines.
While there is no detailed tracking of the total number of Iraqis who have worked as interpreters, their advocates estimate that more than 20,000 people have filled such roles since 2003. In the last quarter of 2007 alone, 5,490 Iraqis were employed by the multinational force as interpreters, according to the Department of Defense.
Nearly 2,000 interpreters in Iraq and Afghanistan have applied to the State Department for a special immigrant visa, which was begun in 2006 as a last resort for those fearing for their lives. So far 1,735 cases have been approved, though it is unclear how many interpreters have come to the United States.
In its first year the visa program for interpreters was limited to only 50 slots. Since then it has expanded to 500 spots a year.
But the numbers tell only part of the difficulty. The program does little to minimize the visa bureaucracy. The process, complicated for anyone, is especially hard for interpreters.
They are considered refugees, and refugees cannot apply from their native countries, in this case Iraq. But Jordan and Syria have closed their borders to the flood of Iraqi refugees. Passports issued by the government of Saddam Hussein are not valid, often making it impossible to cross borders legally.
Among service members who have served in Iraq, there is no dispute that the number of interpreters in danger is far greater than the number of those who have won visas. Many veterans are angry about the bureaucratic hurdles faced by the Iraqis who often came to work with a price on their heads.
Gordon Johndroe, a White House spokesman, said the government's hands were initially tied by the lack of federal legislation allowing special visas for interpreters. Now that more visas have been made available, he said, President George W. Bush has directed Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice and the homeland security secretary, Michael Chertoff, to "make sure the visa process for translators and others moves as quickly as possible."
Lieutenant Colonel Steven Miska, an army infantry officer, has had more than 50 interpreters work for him during his years in Iraq. After looking into the visa process, he decided that "no Iraqi would ever figure that thing out," and set his staff members to establish a network. They pair Iraqis with American veterans who help shepherd them out of Iraq, through Jordan and Syria and into the United States.
"Not only is it the right thing to do from a moral perspective, it's the way to win," Miska said, stressing that the assistance will help reassure Iraqis that they can trust Americans despite the risk in helping them.
Ellie
By Conrad Mulcahy
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
When Lieutenant Colonel Michael Zacchea left Iraq in 2005, he was torn. His yearlong mission to train an Iraqi Army battalion had left him wounded and emotionally drained, and he was eager to go. But leaving Iraq also meant leaving Jack, his Iraqi interpreter, to face an insurgency that has made a point of brutalizing those who help the Americans.
In their year together the two had, among other things, thwarted an assassination plot and survived the second battle of Falluja. Even before he left, Zacchea began working to ensure that Jack would not be left.
"Once the insurgents get a hold of your name, they never let up until they get you," Zacchea said.
It took two years for Jack to get a visa. He is one of the very few to succeed among thousands who have worked as interpreters for the U.S. military.
To many veterans that is not an acceptable rate, given the risks the interpreters have taken, and Zacchea and others are taking up the cause.
They have created a growing network of aid groups, spending countless hours navigating a byzantine immigration system that they feel unnecessarily keeps their allies in harm's way. There is, they say, a debt that must be repaid to the Iraqis who helped the most. To them it is an obligation both moral and pragmatic.
"It's like this disjointed underground railroad that exists," said Paul Rieckhoff, who served with the army in Iraq as a first lieutenant in 2003 and 2004. Rieckhoff is now executive director of Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America, which has more than 85,000 members and a Web site at www.iava.org.
Leaving an interpreter behind, Rieckhoff said, is "like leaving one of your soldiers back in Iraq and saying, 'Good luck, son.' "
The risk taken by interpreters in Iraq is considerable and widely documented. Those who work for the Americans are often accused of being apostates and traitors. Their homes are bombed. Death threats are wrapped around blood-soaked bullets and left outside their homes.
Their relatives are abducted and killed because of their work. And of the interpreters themselves, hundreds have been killed.
But many work in spite of the repercussions, and that dedication resonates clearly for many American soldiers and marines.
While there is no detailed tracking of the total number of Iraqis who have worked as interpreters, their advocates estimate that more than 20,000 people have filled such roles since 2003. In the last quarter of 2007 alone, 5,490 Iraqis were employed by the multinational force as interpreters, according to the Department of Defense.
Nearly 2,000 interpreters in Iraq and Afghanistan have applied to the State Department for a special immigrant visa, which was begun in 2006 as a last resort for those fearing for their lives. So far 1,735 cases have been approved, though it is unclear how many interpreters have come to the United States.
In its first year the visa program for interpreters was limited to only 50 slots. Since then it has expanded to 500 spots a year.
But the numbers tell only part of the difficulty. The program does little to minimize the visa bureaucracy. The process, complicated for anyone, is especially hard for interpreters.
They are considered refugees, and refugees cannot apply from their native countries, in this case Iraq. But Jordan and Syria have closed their borders to the flood of Iraqi refugees. Passports issued by the government of Saddam Hussein are not valid, often making it impossible to cross borders legally.
Among service members who have served in Iraq, there is no dispute that the number of interpreters in danger is far greater than the number of those who have won visas. Many veterans are angry about the bureaucratic hurdles faced by the Iraqis who often came to work with a price on their heads.
Gordon Johndroe, a White House spokesman, said the government's hands were initially tied by the lack of federal legislation allowing special visas for interpreters. Now that more visas have been made available, he said, President George W. Bush has directed Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice and the homeland security secretary, Michael Chertoff, to "make sure the visa process for translators and others moves as quickly as possible."
Lieutenant Colonel Steven Miska, an army infantry officer, has had more than 50 interpreters work for him during his years in Iraq. After looking into the visa process, he decided that "no Iraqi would ever figure that thing out," and set his staff members to establish a network. They pair Iraqis with American veterans who help shepherd them out of Iraq, through Jordan and Syria and into the United States.
"Not only is it the right thing to do from a moral perspective, it's the way to win," Miska said, stressing that the assistance will help reassure Iraqis that they can trust Americans despite the risk in helping them.
Ellie