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thedrifter
10-18-06, 08:33 AM
Coming home to someone else's life
By Jen McCoy

MADISON -- As a child in Poynette, Andrew Brady grew up playing war games like other little boys. However, his father, a Vietnam veteran, encouraged his oldest son not to mimic combat. He saw the harsh realities of war up close, and it was no game.

Brady, now a Marine, is ready to transition back to civilian life himself after three tours in Iraq. And like his father, there are things he saw that he will never forget.

"The smell of a rotting dead body, you never get rid of. The olfactory is the strongest form of memory," said Brady, who is the son of Columbia County Assistant Coroner Lou Brady.

After three tours of Iraq from February 2004 to Oct. 7 of this year, the 23-year-old corporal said there will be a period of transition out of the military habits that keep him alert.

"If you're a Marine, people assume you're crazy. And you do see some doing crazy things," Brady said during an interview Monday in Madison, where he is living. "But we do more work with less men, equipment and resources than the Army. Ten to one."

The broad-shouldered Brady was trained to be highly aware of his surroundings for self-preservation, but at home it can be interpreted as paranoia to outsiders.

"I always like to have an easy exit, a way to get out. I even park my car so I can get out quickly," Brady said, who is part of the 1st Battalion, 7th Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division. "Even now, you figure the worst-case scenario. You build all these habits and it's hard to break them."

Residual aggression from combat was sweated out on exercise equipment, and stress was slightly reduced by smoking cigarettes. And the celebration of birthdays overseas included a well-intended brawl of 20 peers atop the honoree.

In the Marines, a good-sized temper gets things done, Brady said, but in the civilian world it is not socially acceptable.

Brady said he knows soldiers who suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, but he does not believe that he suffers from it.

"One guy shot someone in half and another guy shot someone in the face. They have PTSD," Brady said. "But there is the dirty, grungy side that pumps us up to be there. We're harsh in order to deal with it (stress). We use humor, cursing or anger to get our point across."

Brady has missed out on the college life during his maturation overseas. Iraq has deemed alcohol illegal, and Marines are not supposed to have sex so they are not distracted from the missions.

Brady was accepted to the University of Wisconsin-Madison, where he will study history next year. He said his personal experience in historical events will aid others he may teach.

"I'll be a 23-year-old freshman, and there's a little bit of resentment. Some people don't even know or care (about the military service.) Some people don't even know that there is a war going on," Brady said.

Curious co-eds have asked Brady if he has killed anyone, which he has, but does not advertise or glorify the act.

On the eve of Easter Sunday in 2004, Brady and others gathered for a makeshift Protestant ceremony. The next day they were to enter Falluhjah in response to the deaths of four American contractors who were hung and burned on a bridge earlier.

"We read from a meditation book and a couple Bible verses. We also had grape juice and crackers (in lieu of wine and Holy Communion)," Brady said.

After shooting M-16 rounds into a vehicle on Easter Sunday, Brady had three "confirmed kills."

"Later we had to pull the bodies out and two guys were still alive in the street, screaming in a lot of pain. I didn't know the other guys (in the back of the vehicle) had survived," Brady said. "One guy was shot in the spine, bleeding to death. The other guy was shot through an artery, and when he was put in the ambulance he died. The snipers thought they should soak them in kerosene and burn them (in order to prevent disease)," Brady said. Wandering dogs in combat zones were often killed as well, Brady said, because the animals would eat dead bodies and carry diseases.

Brady said part of the Marine training is the ability to stay focused and remove emotions from your mind that might endanger you or a fellow soldier.

"You don't have time to reflect on it when it's happening. You are trained to shoot at targets. People are a little different," Brady said. "My pastor asked me if I needed to hear him tell me that God understood it was a you-or-him situation, for him to kill me or me to kill him," Brady said.

Brady often refers to opposing forces in the Iraq War as "the bad guys," but recognizes that the term is culturally and politically relative.

"They were bad to me and I was bad to them," Brady said. "You have to think of it this way: If this were my city, where would I hide to keep these (American) people out?"

Brady is agitated by the notion that Marines are inhumane, prompted by the Nov. 19 Haditha killings by Marines. Brady had been in the city previously.

Last year in Haditha, Marines killed 24 Iraqi civilians, including women and young children, at close range. It is reported that the killings took place in retaliation for the death of a Marine lance corporal from a roadside bomb.

According to the Washington Post, al-Qaeda said it sent videotape of the killings (from a Haditha journalism student) to Syria, Jordan and Saudi Arabia to recruit insurgency fighters.

"The Haditha incident has got people thinking we're bloodthirsty killers. We're not all out of control," Brady said. "They did just lose a friend, but they acted out inappropriately. Since then we have covered the rules of engagement over and over again. (Haditha) is what makes people hate Marines."

Tattoos on Brady's back, arms and stomach will always narrate his youth at war. Sporadic ringing in his left ear will remind him of a concussion he suffered from a roadside bomb hitting his vehicle. And strangers and aging veterans who ask to shake his hand will always make the humble man feel awkward.

"It's like you're a celebrity of some kind. They say thank you and you feel like thanking them. It is hard to say you're welcome. I'm paid to do this. I volunteered. I put on the uniform, and when someone sees me they say thank you. It's weird."

jmccoy@capitalnewspapers.com

Ellie