Into Iraq

Our journey began on Sept 23^rd as we assembled at Salt Lake International airport. Jan Moncur, Colleen Parkin and me Amy Galvez were going to Iraq, the nation in which our sons served and ultimately died. Carol Young was originally scheduled for the trip, but due to a lack of funding, was unable to go. Joining us was Salt Lake Tribune reporter Matthew LaPlante, whose job it was to chronicle the story of Utah Gold Star Moms in Iraq, on our humanitarian and healing mission to the Iraqi women. However Matthew, as it turned out would watch over “his Utah Moms” and attend to our concerns and needs, easing any apprehension we may have had.

We met up with the rest of our group in Atlanta. In all our group of eighteen consisted of three Gold Star Mothers from Utah, seven from South Carolina, a Chaplain, two staff from the Organizing group FUTURE (Families United Toward Universal Respect) and our security team. After a security briefing we were on our way to Paris, then Amman, Jordan, then finally on to city of Sulaymaniyah in northern Iraq.

The 36 hour trip was grueling but excitement remained high throughout our travels. When the pilot announced “we will be entering Iraqi airspace in three minutes” it was surreal. I was really going to Iraq. My emotions ran the gamut as I realized we would fly relatively close to the town in which my son died. I wondered what my son Adam would think. Who would have imagined that four years after his death I would be on the ground in the county where war took his life. I also considered the danger. But after getting my initial exposure to the middle east by spending several hours in Amman, Jodan, many of my fears were alleviated and I was ready to enter Iraq.

I was overwhelmed at touch down. We were really on the ground in Iraq. I was almost in disbelief that it was real. This is where my son spent the last days of his life, and now, I was there. Our group was met by a delegation of Iraqi women and other officials who expedited us through customs, and transported us to our hotel. Driving through the city I saw many scenes that reminded me of a hundreds of photos we had from my son’s time in Iraq. Other areas looked progressive. Development and progress was evident everywhere.

Uncertain of what our hotel accommodations would actually be like, we were pleasantly surprised to find a nice, somewhat clean room with hot and cold running water, a bathroom, comfortable beds and air conditioning.

Without a moment of rest, we assembled in the lobby waiting for our instructions, as none of us knew why our presence had been required. Our security team in whom we’d all gained confidence, announced our security would now be under the control of six Iraqi men in dark suits, sunglasses, and earpieces in their ears, resembling secret service or something similar, and we were to go with these men . I must admit, I was a bit nervous. They escorted us outside to the rear of the hotel where there were several SUV’s, and some police vehicles with doors open and a bustle of activity around them. Our group boarded two small busses which abruptly took off behind several SUV’s with the lead police vehicle with lights and sirens on. I finally realized we were part of a motorcade, but the moms did not know where we were going. After about a ten minute drive through town, we arrived at the headquarters of the Patriotic Union of Kurdistan. There we passed a long procession of Iraqi women and other dignitaries who greeting each one of us. We were ushered into a beautiful room with a large ringed oval table and plush green velvet chairs where we were seated. About forty people filled the room with many standing or sitting along the wall. We were addressed by the leader of the Patriotic Union of Kurdistan (PUK), and several Iraqi women. The expressed deep appreciation for our visit to Iraq, TV cameras shot video, and hundreds of photos were taken.

Our VIP treatment continued at the conclusion of the address as we then escorted to a feast. Enormous amounts of many varieties of Iraqi cuisine filled the table which was about thirty feet in length. The food was exceptional and truly was a feast.

After the meal I visited with an Iraqi women who brought me to tears as she thanked me for my son helping free them from Saddam Hussein. She had survived the 1988 chemical weapons attack by Saddam’s regime which killed 5,000 men, women and children. Then later her husband was brutally killed by the regime. This women personally suffered under Saddam Hussein and lost many family members under his dictatorship. I was speechless as listened to her story. Her gratitude for my son’s sacrifice and the hard work and sacrifices by the U.S. Military could not be adequately put into words.

I had been in Iraq for less than three hours and I was already changed in the most profound way. I had made a connection to people who existed a half a world away on the evening news. But they were real, and this was only the beginning of my eyes being opened to the reality of suffering of the Iraqi and how much our military has done for them. I already looked forward to what lay ahead later that day and in the coming week. This truly would be a life changing experience and I knew without a doubt that I was supposed to be here.