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The women pleaded for mercy in their native tongue. It’ll prevent us from seeing them again.”Cunningham said, “No, man. When he got the answer, Cunningham says, he and Mayo stormed over in a rage. You’re supposed to be the one shutting Hatley down. The rear ramp of the lead Bradley dropped down, and the five detainees, blindfolded and bound, were led into the troop compartment.The men were flex-cuffed with their hands behind their backs, and were blindfolded with ACE bandages. Mayo shouted at Cunningham, “What the fuck are you doing? The Bradley was commanded by a sergeant named Daniel Evoy.She was born in California and currently lives in Beirut, Lebanon.Amanda Roraback is the author of several books comprising the Nutshell Notes series, including Afghanistan in a Nutshell, Iraq in a Nutshell, and Iran in a Nutshell.By contrast, the accounting of American losses was carefully done.
Asne Seierstad, a Norwegian journalist, is the author of A Hundred and One Days: A Baghdad Journal. Afschineh Latifi is the author of Even After All This Time: A Story of Love, Revolution and Leaving Iran.
Along with his regular driver and gunner, Hatley was accompanied by the two men closest to him—the company’s chief medic, Sergeant Michael “Doc” Leahy, 27, who rode with Hatley wherever he went, and the Second Platoon’s senior NCO, Sergeant First Class Joseph Mayo, 26, a careerist whose eagerness to impress Hatley seemed to know no bounds. Word of the earlier engagement must have gotten around, because the streets were deserted. He could have just stood there, waved in a friendly manner, or held up his hands to demonstrate that he was unarmed. ” Four years into the occupation, he probably knew that much English. Startled by the patrol, he dashed across the street and disappeared into a doorway. The convoy splayed into defensive positions, and soldiers sprang out.
In the privacy of Alpha Company at war, these three men—Hatley flanked by Leahy and Mayo—formed the unit’s triumvirate of power. It rolled into a neighborhood where Cunningham got out with the interpreter and asked about life on the ground. ” The gunner on the tail-end Bradley spotted the gunfire coming from a rooftop in a cluster of buildings to the south. Then, after more than an hour and a mile, the patrol came upon an Arab man in the street. It had no obvious connection to the confrontation earlier that day, and was in a different part of town. Hatley, Leahy, and Mayo were the first to go through the doorway, followed by Cunningham and others.
The vehicles had stopped on an empty street between shuttered houses. The captured men denied any knowledge of the weapons, but it seemed obvious that they were lying. Cunningham returned to Quigley’s side as if nothing had happened. That does not mean that he was not good at thinking.
The rounds clanged against the armor and caused the top gunners to hunker down. ” Cunningham suspected he had the usual—angry locals who could melt away at will. Whether all or any of them were insurgents was a more difficult question, particularly in a neighborhood riven by sectarian violence, but Hatley and his soldiers—including Cunningham—assumed that they were. A few minutes later, company headquarters radioed back, asking for an exact count of the detainees and an expected time of arrival at the combat outpost. Hatley angrily demanded to know who had called in the report. He thought, You’re supposed to be my platoon sergeant. He stood there silently and, in army tradition, sucked up the abuse.