(Editor's note: This is an excerpt from the book Winter
Soldier: Iraq and Afghanistan, Eyewitness Accounts of the Occupations, by
Iraq Veterans Against the War and Aaron Glantz. For more about the Winter Soldier
hearings, read this FPIF commentary
by Glantz, an FPIF contributor. You can also watch
Rosas' testimony.)
We occupied a local train station in an area called
al-Qaim near the Syrian border. We called it Tiger Base. I was put in charge
of the detainee site, which consisted of a shipping container and a single building
surrounded by barbed wire. I had two soldiers to back me up when I was handling
the detainees. I was briefed by the sergeant I relieved that the men in the
shipping container were captured combatants, and I was to deprive them of sleep.
So I had them stand inside the shipping container, face to the walls, no talking.
I let them have blankets because it was cold, but they were not allowed to sit
or lie down. When they started falling or dozing off, they put their heads on
the wall.
I was outside the shipping container and just smacked it with a pickax handle
to keep them awake. The men in the building were noncombatant detainees being
held for questioning. There were 93 men, altogether. Using one of them to translate,
I told them that they had a clean slate with me. If they didn't give me any
trouble, then the next 24 hours would pass calmly. If they did, I told them
it would be a long 24 hours. I just prayed that they didn't give me any trouble
because I didn't know what I would have had to do. They even told me I was a
good man while I was in charge of them.
One day a body bag was dropped off to me. When the soldiers came to retrieve
it the next morning, they threw it on top of some junk in the back of a truck,
but rigor mortis had already set in and it wouldn't fit inside the truck. So
the solder started stomping on it, I mean, really stomping it. I couldn't imagine
I was like, "How can you do that?"
I also had a former Iraqi general, Major General Abed Hamed Mowhoush, who was
taken from my custody. I was told to keep him separated from the other noncombatants
and give him everything he needed: "If he asks for anything, hook him up,
take care of him, and don't harass him." I was like, "Well, I don't
need somebody to tell me to not harass somebody."
A soldier told me later, "Hey, he died during questioning, during his
interrogation."
I thought to myself, "How tough does a question have to be to kill?"
I don't know exactly what went on during his interrogation, but he was fine
when I had him.
Days after he was taken from my custody, I had his 14-year-old son, who was
a very bright child and spoke four languages. He was supposed to be taken to
his father. I was told that would get him to talk a little more. Instead, the
boy was being taken to identify his father's body. Now, I'm not sure, but if
that child was pro-American or one of our friends and allies, I'm pretty sure
he is not an ally of ours anymore.
Sometime later the detainee site was taken over and rebuilt by men called OGAs,
which stood for Other Governmental Agency. That's a pretty vague term. They
built high walls around the detainee center. I figured, "Well, yeah, they're
terrorists. You don't want them seeing out. You want to contain them, deny them
any information that they could use to escape."
Later on I realized it was also so we couldn't see in. One night I was told
to bring a message down to the detainee site. I knocked on the door, and when
they opened it, I witnessed one detainee being kicked around on the ground in
the mud, rolled over again and again. The agent was just kicking him with his
foot, rolling him over in the mud, pouring water on his face, the whole waterboarding
thing. Another detainee was standing there with a bag over his head and was
forced to carry a huge rock until he just physically couldn't do it anymore
and just collapsed. That image seared itself into my mind's eye, and I can't
forget it.
I won't forget it. (Rosas cried after he said this.)
As I wrap this up, I just want to say two things. The longer we live as a human
race, we're supposed to be getting smarter and wiser and better. To the vets
that we're trying to bring home alive, decades from now, when you've got your
grandchild sitting on your knee, bouncing in front of you, just try to remember
what we did here today, under the flag, IVAW.
Domingo Rosas, a former U.S. Army sergeant, served as a member of the Third
Armored Cavalry Regiment in Iraq's Anbar province from April 2003 until April
2004. A member of Iraq Veterans Against the War (IVAW), he testified about his
deployment during the Winter
Soldier hearings outside Washington, DC in March 2008.
Reprinted with permission from Foreign Policy
in Focus.