Mass Casualties: A Young Medic's True Story of Death, Deception, and Dishonor in Iraq (23 page)

“Oh yeah! Mandatory classes for anyone who refused the anthrax shot. Two different times for the next three days, you will make it to all of them.” He slams the door.

No one says anything. During our research we only studied the effects of getting the shot. Now we've heard the effects of not getting the shot. Refusing a direct order during a time of war does mean a fine; it also really does mean jail.

WEEK 4, DAY 2, IRAQ

1700 HOURS, ANTHRAX CLASS

One of the GOBs teaches the class. His method is to read from the pamphlet. I want to call him a thousand names. I want to tell him to look at our research. I want to call him a liar. But I sit quietly in my chair. The two doctors sitting next to me are also unimpressed. They don't seem to like him. No one likes the GOBs except the GOBs.

The consequences of not getting the anthrax shot:

“Colonel Jelly has ordered you to get this shot. That is a direct order from your unit commander. If you refuse to take the shot, best-case scenario, you will be kicked out of the Army with a dishonorable discharge — which follows you around like a felony — and fined thousands of dollars. Worst-case scenario … you will go to jail.

”I look around and I see colonels, majors, captains, sergeants, staff sergeants, doctors, and nurses. People look scared, the GOB looks happy.

“Some of you have been in the military for twenty years; some have been in for two years. Let me tell you this. If you refuse this shot you will lose all your benefits that you've worked so hard for. To the doctors out there, the Army paid for your schooling. You will have to pay that back. Those that have been in for twenty years and were planning on retiring, you can kiss your retirement goodbye. For those of you that were planning on going to school, no free tuition or GI Bill. Stop and think. Is refusing the shot really worth it? You deserve all the benefits you've received. You've worked hard to get to where you are now. Don't throw everything down the drain.”

1800 HOURS, OR

“I don't want to lose my college benefits. I don't want to go to jail or lose pay,” I say.

Reto stands. I can see in his eyes that he's already had these thoughts.

“Listen, man, I'll cover you. Go home and get some rest. Think things through. I'm refusing the shot no matter what. But I've got to tell you, I just talked to Hudge, and everyone else from the OR got the shot today. Denti, Elster, Waters. It's only you and me left,” he says.

When I leave, I don't want Reto to see the weakness in my eyes. I smoke half a pack of cigarettes on the way to the room; once there, I down three sleeping pills and lay in bed.

For all I've said, for all I've not been able to do and hated it, I want someone to make this decision for me.

WEEK 4, DAY 3, IRAQ

0645 HOURS, SLEEPING AREA

Even people who have already received the shot, as well as those who have refused the anthrax shot, are required to attend Colonel Jelly's second meeting. People from down south will be there, including Staff Sergeant North. They received the shots a month ago and will be talking about it. Jelly is getting in trouble for so many of his soldiers refusing; I guess it looks bad when so many people from a medical unit are refusing to get a shot.

I laugh. Waking up this morning — from being so torn last night — and then hearing about the new meeting, my mind can't seem to handle everything that's going on and I just laugh. I laugh at the fact that we are fighting a war for freedom, and yet if we don't allow people to inject a potentially lethal liquid into our veins, we are being threatened with jail time. It's nothing if not ironic, and Reto is cracking up now, too.

0715 HOURS, AUDITORIUM

We are the last people to show up for the meeting, so we quietly make our way to the back of the room and sit down. Colonel Jelly has already read through the pamphlet and is again explaining the consequences of not taking the shot. He is also addressing the soldiers who have already gotten the shots and telling them not to let their friends throw their careers down the drain.

“Hey buddy, don't throw your career down the toilet.” It's Reto. “Get the shot.” I look at him and laugh. A soldier in front of me turns around; she smiles at Reto and then frowns at me. Colonel Jelly continues talking.

“Soldiers! I don't need to tell you again that this is a direct order. So let me just read you a list of the consequences for refusing the shots and a direct order during a time of war.” Colonel Jelly says more of the same old. He adds that we will be dishonorably discharged from the military and that it will follow us around like a criminal record. His own recommendation is to push for the worst possible punishment:

“Refuse the shot the final time and you will most likely end up in jail. If you and a friend are both refusing the shot, make sure you're good friends because you could be sharing a jail cell. But really people, I want you to understand, the shots are safe. And to prove it we have Staff Sergeant North up here from our southern hospital who will tell us about their experiences with the shots.”

Staff Sergeant North stands up. He has gained thirty pounds since the last time I saw him — only a few weeks ago at Colonel Jelly's meeting for unit restructuring.

“In our southern hospital we all had to take the anthrax shot and we conducted our own independent research.” He's sweating like a hog. I can smell him from where I sit. He smells of bullshit.

“We had a pregnant soldier down south and we gave her the anthrax shot and then monitored her health. It's a month later and she's doing fine.” He sits down and grins, obviously proud of himself. He has settled the score once and for all.

Is anyone else picking up that his pseudo-research is a little off? When the Army finds out that a woman is pregnant, they have to send her home as quickly as possible. Also, the pregnant soldier only received one out of a series of six shots.

The meeting ends with Colonel Jelly telling us that tomorrow and the next day will be the last two days to either get the shots or refuse them. After that, the consequences will be felt. Reto and I walk back to work.

0745 HOURS, OR

Reto and I head to the printer. We find the websites that we found earlier and make our own pamphlet on the real facts. We print off twenty copies. Hudge walks into the room and we hide the pamphlets.

“Hey guys, I want to talk. Listen, I got the shot and nothing happened to me. You guys are young. I just don't want to see you two throw your lives away.”

Denti walks in:

“Listen, I'll say this quick. Don't be a fucking idiot. If they're going to send you to jail, just get the shot.” Denti and Hudge leave. Reto goes to the bathroom.

Torres walks in.

“Michael. Listen, I'm sure you've heard this before. But I know these people are assholes for making us take these shots, but don't let them ruin you. Play their game for now, but that's it. I don't want to see anything happen to you. Reto has already made his decision; there's not much I can do … just think about it, okay? Weigh your options.”

Reto knows that he might be refusing the shot alone. We print more pamphlets. Sergeants Elster and Sellers come in and relieve us. They also try to convince us to get the shots.

Reto and I leave. We don't talk. We take our pamphlets and methodically go into every male bathroom in our living quarters and hang the pamphlets on the walls. If refusing the shots weren't bad enough, we are now printing anonymous reading materials encouraging people to refuse a direct order. We know or can imagine the consequences, but we don't think of them. That is the only way you can do something. Focus on only doing what's right, not the consequences of any action. We are now fighting a new war.

We go to our rooms. I turn my computer on and send an e-mail to my brother. I tell him to contact the press about what's going on. I then send an e-mail to my local and state representatives.

WEEK 4, DAY 4, IRAQ

0900 HOURS, OR

The next day people try to convince us to get the shots. Many of them call us idiots and say that we can't go against the Army. Some call us pansies and tell us to man up. Others come in and tell us that we're doing the right thing and that they wish they had the balls we have … and then they tell us to get the shot and not waste our careers.