Fotos von Nina Berman
Der 19-jährige Gefreite Randall Clunen, Infanterist bei der 101. US-Luftlandedivision
Als erster Kriegskorrespondent von Yahoo! News erlangte Kevin Sites Berühmtheit, weil er zwischen 2005 und 2006 über wirklich jeden größeren Konflikt in der Welt berichtete.
Seine Art der Kriegsberichterstattung als technisch perfekt ausgerüstete One-Man-Show half, den „Rucksack-Journalismus“ populär zu machen und befeuerte sein Debüt In the Hot Zone: One Man, One Year, Twenty Wars. Kevins neustes Buch The Things They Cannot Say: Stories Soldiers Won’t Tell You About What They’ve Seen, Done or Failed to Do in War erscheint am 29. Januar bei Harper Perennial. Es enthält die Berichte von elf US-Soldaten und Marines, die unter den verheerenden Auswirkungen moderner Kriegsführung und ihrer psychologischen Folgen leiden.
Unten findet ihr einen Auszug aus dem ersten Kapitel von The Things They Cannot Say mit einer Chronik des Todes von Marine William Wold. Zum ersten Mal interviewte Kevin William, als er 2004 über den Irakkrieg berichtete, Minuten, nachdem der 21-jährige Corporal und seine Mannschaft sechs Aufständische in Falludscha erschossen hatten. Damals war William abgehärtet vom Töten und davon, Freunde sterben zu sehen. Der Auszug knüpft sieben Jahre danach an Williams Geschichte an und erzählt, wie das Leben des hochdekorierten Marine durch die Dinge, die er im Namen seines Landes getan hat, unwiderruflich zerstört wurde.
Wir haben den Text mit Fotos aus der Reihe Purple Hearts von Nina Berman unterlegt. Die Serie besteht aus Porträts und Interviews amerikanischer Soldaten, die im Irakkrieg verletzt wurden, und konzentriert sich auf ihren Kampf um Identität und Sinn nach ihrer Rückkehr. Weitere Informationen zu diesem Projekt findet ihr unter NoorImages.com.
William Wold. Foto mit freundlicher Genehmigung von Kevin Sites
William Wold seemed fine initially when he came home from Iraq, according to his mother, Sandi Wold, when I speak to her by telephone seven years after my conversation with her son in Fallujah. Wold had begged his mother to sign a parental-approval form when he wanted to join the Marines at 17, taking extra online classes to graduate a year early in order to do so. But after four years of service, he had had enough.
“They were going to promote him to sergeant, but he didn’t want to reenlist. He just wanted to be normal,” she says, echoing his own words from our videotaped interview. His much-anticipated separation from the Marine Corps would come in March 2004, but in the interim, she had promised to treat him and a couple of Marine buddies to a trip to Las Vegas as a coming-home present. She and her second husband, John Wold (William’s stepfather, whose last name William took), met the three Marines at the MGM Grand and got them adjoining rooms next to their own. Sandi was elated to see her son home safe and in one piece, and she wanted to see him leave the war in Iraq behind as quickly as possible.
“There’s no way I can show you how much I appreciate your willingness to die for me,” she remembers telling the three. But she tried her best anyway, going so far as to hire in-room strippers for them through an ad in the Yellow Pages.
“They talked me into buying them suits and renting a stretch limo. These guys show up and they go out partying that night, these guys are pimped out, I’m spending so much money it’s stupid,” she says, laughing at the memory. “Those Marines swam down some drinks, just the three of them. The hotel called my room—‘Do these Marines belong to you?’—as they’re stumbling down the hallways.”
When the strippers show up at the Marines’ room, Sandi says the sound of partying was like its own war zone. Then around midnight there’s a loud banging on the adjoining door.
“The door swings open and it’s Silly Billy, drunk and laughing, and he introduces us to them [the strippers]… I could’ve gone a lifetime without meeting them,” Sandi says.
“He says, ‘Mom, I’m going to need an extra $1,200.’ ‘Dude,’” she remembers telling him, “‘you gotta be fucking shitting me.’ But I’m counting the money out, he’s dancing around, happy as can be.”
The whole trip, she says, was indicative of the closeness of their relationship. He would always stay in touch with his mom even while he was in Iraq.
“He would hang out with the snipers at night,” Sandi says, “because they always had satellite phones, and he would make sure to try and call me almost every week. It would just be, ‘Hey, I’m fine, can’t talk long, love you. Bye.’”
“He was through and through a mama’s boy. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t share with me,” she says. “Sometimes I had to tell him I just don’t want to know.”
But Sandi says she began to sense something was wrong after William made a trip back East to see a woman he had met while doing presidential-protection duty at Camp David. He had called her his fiancée and said he planned to marry her, but the relationship ended after his visit.
“He flies back there and doesn’t last 24 hours,” Sandi says. “He lost it. He calls me and tells me to find him a flight home. ‘I can’t close my eyes, I can’t sleep,’ he tells me, ‘What’s wrong with me?’ I think he knew he was so unstable he was going to end up hurting her.”