Army captain comes home - for leave: A soldier's perspective
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Army captain comes home -- for leave: A soldier's perspective
By Chris Kelly 10/16/2004
Capt. Bob Kane slipped out of his Humvee and slinked down the bank into the thick foliage hugging the canal.
Coiled in shadow, the sniper tightened as he watched for his target's head to break the veil of reeds.
The bullet missed by a breath. Capt. Kane dove into the canal, scrambling for cover in a river of raw sewage and rotting garbage.
"I could feel the wind from it go right by my face," Capt. Kane said, taking a long pull from a pint of Guinness. "It was a little like 'The Matrix.' Needless to say, I burned that uniform."
Serving in Iraq with the U.S. Army's 1st Cavalry Division, Capt. Kane had his last beer in late March. Home on leave, he jokes that his mission over the next couple of weeks is "to help put the Yuengling kids through college."
Times-Tribune photo director Mike Mullen and I met Capt. Kane while we were in Baghdad with the Scranton-based 2nd Battalion, 103rd Armor of the Pennsylvania Army National Guard. Last Saturday, we took the West Scranton native out for a few pints and to get a soldier's perspective on what some observers are saying is a no-win situation in Iraq.
"It's not as bad as it seems," he said, laying a stack of snapshots on the bar of the Banshee, his favorite hometown hangout. "It's still not safe at all, but I think a lot of stuff gets blown out of proportion. It's by no means Disneyland, but it's not hell on Earth, either."
Like some of the soldiers of the 103rd Mike and I stay in touch with, Capt. Kane says the media is only telling half the story in Iraq. He accepts the "if it bleeds, it leads" nature of news, and understands that a car bombing that kills 34 is going to get more play than the opening of a restored water treatment plant.
But water treatment plants do open in Iraq, he said, and there's a lot of other good news hidden in the shadow of the big headlines.
"We had just finished renovating a school that hadn't had any renovations in 50 years," Capt. Kane said. "CNN was all set to come out and do a story on it, and that day, a mortar landed in the Green Zone, so they blew off the school to cover that.
"Mortars land in the Green Zone every day, but they thought that was more important than what we had done with this school. It was really frustrating. I was really (angry) about that."
It's hard to blame him. Capt. Kane and his fellow soldiers spend each day striving for progress in a splintered society that has never known and may eventually reject the American model of democracy. More and more Iraqis have come to resent the American presence, and the bloody insurgency claims victims daily.
The day before we sat down with Capt. Kane, Army Sgt. Andrew Brown, of Pleasant Mount, died in Baghdad of injuries suffered Oct. 1, when his patrol vehicle hit an improvised roadside bomb. He was 22. His family will bury him Monday.
Over the seven days since our talk with Capt. Kane, at least 34 American soldiers have been killed in Iraq, according to the Department of Defense. At least 36 Iraqis have died in that time, according to Pentagon reports and news accounts. On Thursday, a pair of suicide bombers killed 10 people, including four Americans, at a cafe and market inside the Green Zone, which is the most secure place in the country.
It's essential to report the bad news. Pretending things are better than they are isn't just dishonest, it's dangerous. But ignoring signs of progress can be just as destructive to the morale of the people struggling to make good news.
"We're doing a lot of great things over there," Capt. Kane said. "I wish people back here knew half of what we're doing. Maybe the justification was originally WMD, but if we were wrong about that, so be it. We've done it. We're there now.
"We've liberated a country and we've got to finish the job. A free and stable Iraq will be good for us and good for the world. I love my job. This is what I signed up to do."
While Capt. Kane conceded that a growing number of Iraqis want the Americans out, he said he's seen positive changes, even in those who resent his presence. A favorite tactic of insurgents is to drive a pickup truck near an American base, quickly launch mortars and speed away. Everyday Iraqis at an outdoor cafe stood up and stopped a recent attack, detaining the insurgents and delivering them for arrest.
"These guys had probably just got done talking about how much they hate us, but they beat these bad guys up and stopped a patrol to turn them in," Capt. Kane said. "We tell them all the time, 'We know you don't want us here, and we don't want to be here.'
"What they have to understand is that the sooner the attacks stop, the sooner we'll get out."
Capt. Kane didn't want to speculate on how soon U.S. troops would be out of Iraq, but he said it's likely an American presence will be required for years.
"I think we're winning, but it takes time," he said. "It takes time and patience. It won't happen overnight. It may not happen in my lifetime."
Capt. Kane was Lt. Kane when he arrived in Baghdad. He's seen a lot of action since April, including several high-profile insurgent arrests and weapons seizures, including the shutdown of a car-bomb "factory."
"It was amazing," Capt. Kane said. "It looked like a car lot. It was like an assembly line, all these cars waiting to be loaded with explosives."
At 26, he's a night battle captain, coordinating missions and overseeing overnight operations. The shift lets him catch parts of Philadelphia Eagles games, which air around midnight in Baghdad. He's not sure what he wants to do when his tour is up, but he'd like to put his bachelor's degree in criminal justice to work in his hometown.
"I love this town," he said. "I love the people, I love my family, I just love it here."
Last night, Capt. Kane was surrounded by his family at a party hosted by his parents, Bob and Marion Kane. Their reaction as he walked through the gate at Wilkes-Barre/Scranton International last week was one of the most moving things I've ever seen. I think I'll skip the goodbye.
In the next few days, Capt. Kane and his wife, Erin, will head to the Poconos for some time alone. He married a Taylor girl, which is an undeniable sign of good taste. A justice of the peace did the honors, but when he comes home from the war, they've planned a big wedding at St. Ann's Church, followed by a reception at the Hilton.
It's going to be a hell of a party, Capt. Kane promises, maybe big enough to put the Yuengling kids through graduate school.
No matter what else happens that day, good news won't be hard to find.
CHRIS KELLY, the SaturDay columnist, will pick up Capt. Kane's tab any time. E-mail him at [email protected].
"
By Chris Kelly 10/16/2004
Capt. Bob Kane slipped out of his Humvee and slinked down the bank into the thick foliage hugging the canal.
Coiled in shadow, the sniper tightened as he watched for his target's head to break the veil of reeds.
The bullet missed by a breath. Capt. Kane dove into the canal, scrambling for cover in a river of raw sewage and rotting garbage.
"I could feel the wind from it go right by my face," Capt. Kane said, taking a long pull from a pint of Guinness. "It was a little like 'The Matrix.' Needless to say, I burned that uniform."
Serving in Iraq with the U.S. Army's 1st Cavalry Division, Capt. Kane had his last beer in late March. Home on leave, he jokes that his mission over the next couple of weeks is "to help put the Yuengling kids through college."
Times-Tribune photo director Mike Mullen and I met Capt. Kane while we were in Baghdad with the Scranton-based 2nd Battalion, 103rd Armor of the Pennsylvania Army National Guard. Last Saturday, we took the West Scranton native out for a few pints and to get a soldier's perspective on what some observers are saying is a no-win situation in Iraq.
"It's not as bad as it seems," he said, laying a stack of snapshots on the bar of the Banshee, his favorite hometown hangout. "It's still not safe at all, but I think a lot of stuff gets blown out of proportion. It's by no means Disneyland, but it's not hell on Earth, either."
Like some of the soldiers of the 103rd Mike and I stay in touch with, Capt. Kane says the media is only telling half the story in Iraq. He accepts the "if it bleeds, it leads" nature of news, and understands that a car bombing that kills 34 is going to get more play than the opening of a restored water treatment plant.
But water treatment plants do open in Iraq, he said, and there's a lot of other good news hidden in the shadow of the big headlines.
"We had just finished renovating a school that hadn't had any renovations in 50 years," Capt. Kane said. "CNN was all set to come out and do a story on it, and that day, a mortar landed in the Green Zone, so they blew off the school to cover that.
"Mortars land in the Green Zone every day, but they thought that was more important than what we had done with this school. It was really frustrating. I was really (angry) about that."
It's hard to blame him. Capt. Kane and his fellow soldiers spend each day striving for progress in a splintered society that has never known and may eventually reject the American model of democracy. More and more Iraqis have come to resent the American presence, and the bloody insurgency claims victims daily.
The day before we sat down with Capt. Kane, Army Sgt. Andrew Brown, of Pleasant Mount, died in Baghdad of injuries suffered Oct. 1, when his patrol vehicle hit an improvised roadside bomb. He was 22. His family will bury him Monday.
Over the seven days since our talk with Capt. Kane, at least 34 American soldiers have been killed in Iraq, according to the Department of Defense. At least 36 Iraqis have died in that time, according to Pentagon reports and news accounts. On Thursday, a pair of suicide bombers killed 10 people, including four Americans, at a cafe and market inside the Green Zone, which is the most secure place in the country.
It's essential to report the bad news. Pretending things are better than they are isn't just dishonest, it's dangerous. But ignoring signs of progress can be just as destructive to the morale of the people struggling to make good news.
"We're doing a lot of great things over there," Capt. Kane said. "I wish people back here knew half of what we're doing. Maybe the justification was originally WMD, but if we were wrong about that, so be it. We've done it. We're there now.
"We've liberated a country and we've got to finish the job. A free and stable Iraq will be good for us and good for the world. I love my job. This is what I signed up to do."
While Capt. Kane conceded that a growing number of Iraqis want the Americans out, he said he's seen positive changes, even in those who resent his presence. A favorite tactic of insurgents is to drive a pickup truck near an American base, quickly launch mortars and speed away. Everyday Iraqis at an outdoor cafe stood up and stopped a recent attack, detaining the insurgents and delivering them for arrest.
"These guys had probably just got done talking about how much they hate us, but they beat these bad guys up and stopped a patrol to turn them in," Capt. Kane said. "We tell them all the time, 'We know you don't want us here, and we don't want to be here.'
"What they have to understand is that the sooner the attacks stop, the sooner we'll get out."
Capt. Kane didn't want to speculate on how soon U.S. troops would be out of Iraq, but he said it's likely an American presence will be required for years.
"I think we're winning, but it takes time," he said. "It takes time and patience. It won't happen overnight. It may not happen in my lifetime."
Capt. Kane was Lt. Kane when he arrived in Baghdad. He's seen a lot of action since April, including several high-profile insurgent arrests and weapons seizures, including the shutdown of a car-bomb "factory."
"It was amazing," Capt. Kane said. "It looked like a car lot. It was like an assembly line, all these cars waiting to be loaded with explosives."
At 26, he's a night battle captain, coordinating missions and overseeing overnight operations. The shift lets him catch parts of Philadelphia Eagles games, which air around midnight in Baghdad. He's not sure what he wants to do when his tour is up, but he'd like to put his bachelor's degree in criminal justice to work in his hometown.
"I love this town," he said. "I love the people, I love my family, I just love it here."
Last night, Capt. Kane was surrounded by his family at a party hosted by his parents, Bob and Marion Kane. Their reaction as he walked through the gate at Wilkes-Barre/Scranton International last week was one of the most moving things I've ever seen. I think I'll skip the goodbye.
In the next few days, Capt. Kane and his wife, Erin, will head to the Poconos for some time alone. He married a Taylor girl, which is an undeniable sign of good taste. A justice of the peace did the honors, but when he comes home from the war, they've planned a big wedding at St. Ann's Church, followed by a reception at the Hilton.
It's going to be a hell of a party, Capt. Kane promises, maybe big enough to put the Yuengling kids through graduate school.
No matter what else happens that day, good news won't be hard to find.
CHRIS KELLY, the SaturDay columnist, will pick up Capt. Kane's tab any time. E-mail him at [email protected].
"