Daar het so pas ‘n uitgebreide en onthullende onderhoud
verskyn met die anonieme skerpskutter van die SEAL-battaljon wat Osama bin
Laden verlede jaar doodgeskiet het.
Daarmee is die geskiedenis van die 11 September
aanvalle vir vele mense tot afsluiting gebring.
Geweld het in geweld geëindig. ‘n Mens sou selfs
kon dink aan die Bybelse woord: wie met die swaard vernietig sal deur die
swaard vernietig word.
Vele mense dink so.
Die soldaat, geroem as ‘n held in Amerika en vele
ander plekke, se lewensloop na sy daad, loop anders as wat ‘n mens sou dink.
Dit lig die sluier oor die donker kant van die geskiedenis, oor die verlies van
lewe vir hulle wat lewe neem, oor die persoonlike gevolge vir mense wat in
diens van oorlogvoering is.
Ek soek na die onderhoud nadat ek vanaand op kanaal
431 ‘n onderhoud sien waarin vertel word van die hemelhoë egskeidingssyfer, die
groot getalle selfmoord, die vernietigende alkoholisme en dwelmmisbruik en die
gewelddadige lewensloop van veterane van die Amerikaanse oorloë.
Die man wat bin Laden geskiet het is, soos baie
ander soldate uit die geledere, ook nou geskei van sy vrou. Hulle deel egter
nog ‘n huis en sy vrou sê sy het hom nog lief.
Sy gesin leef elke dag in vrees. Hy het hulle voorberei
wat om te doen as hulle ooit aangeval word deur mense wat weet hy was die een
wat bin Laden gedood het (gaan skuil in die bad, skiet op ‘n sekere hoogte deur
die deur). Hulle leef in vrees dat hulle nou teikens vir weerwraak gaan wees. Hulle
moet hul woorde tel sodat hulle nie hul man en pa se identiteit verraai nie.
Die soldaat het kort na die insident en na 16 jaar
uit die weermag bedank. Hy sit nou sonder werk en beweer dat hy geen
ondersteuning van die weermag kry nie. Hy weet nie wat die toekoms sal bring
nie. Daar is geen sekuriteit nie. Hy moet ten alle koste anoniem bly.
Selfs sy verhaal oor die gebeure in bin Laden se
huis laat ‘n mens met ‘n vreemde gevoel.
Hier is wat hy beleef die oomblik nadat hy bin
Laden doodgeskiet het omdat hy gedink het bin Laden gaan ‘n geweer gryp om hom
te verdedig: And I remember as I watched him breathe out the last part of
air, I thought: Is this the best thing I've ever done, or the worst thing I've
ever done? This is real and that's him. Holy shit.
Hoe kan woorde wat die belewing in een sekonde
verwoord tog ‘n hele wêreld se betekenis oproep. ‘n Jong man, met ‘n vrou en
kinders tuis, ‘n uitblinker, ‘n leier, weet intuïef, hier is die beste ding,
maar hier is die slegste ding.
Hoe tog sou hy meer kon vertel van wat die slegte
kante is? Wat het hy eintlik bedoel? Is die verloop van sy lewensverhaal een so
‘n slegte ding?
En dan sien jy die ander kant van hierdie soldaat
wat in die huis sy missie, bepaal deur die weermag, uitvoer. Hy vertel hoe hy
bin Laden se jongste vrou op die bed vasgebind het nadat hy bin Laden geskiet
het. Hy skiet haar nie dood nie, hoewel
dit gelyk het asof sy bin Laden wou verdedig en voor hom wou inspring om die
koeëls af te keer.
Daar was op
daardie stadium ‘n groot rumoer in die huis, vertel die soldaat. Langs die bed
waarop die vrou vasgebind is, sien hy toe die jong seuntjie – hy skat hom so
twee of drie jaar oud – van die vrou en bin Laden staan en huil van skok. Hy
het so pas gesien hoe sy pa twee keer in die voorkop geskiet is.
Die soldaat sê: Then I realized that bin Laden's
youngest son, who is about two or three, was standing there on the other side
of the bed. I didn't want to hurt him, because I'm not a savage. There was a
lot of screaming, he was crying, just in shock. I didn't like that he was
scared. He's a kid, and had nothing to do with this. I picked him up and put
him next to his mother. I put some water on his face.
Hy wil hom nie seermaak nie. Hy tel die seuntjie op
en gee hom vir sy ma, vasgebind op die bed. Hy maak sy gesiggie nat.
Hy is, sê hy vir die koerantman, immers nie ‘n
barbaar nie.
In die onderhoud (sien die skakel hieronder) vertel
die joernalis wat hierdie SEAL soldate as elite vegters alles doen.
Ek lees die verhaal. Ek dink aan die opmerking van
die soldaat dat hy nie eintlik ‘n godsdienstige mens is nie. Dit is ‘n verhaal
van oorlogvoering, van wapens, doodskiet, vyande uit die weg ruim, vrouens en kinders
hulle lewens lank skend. Maar dit is ook die verhaal van die prys wat die
soldaat betaal.
Die afgesaagde uitspraak lui dat daar in oorlog nie
wenners is nie. Dit besef 'n mens opnuut.
Sefs net om hierdie verhaal te lees en om jou dan in te dink in die lewe
van die man, en in die lewe van ‘n land, is om geestelik bietjie te sterf. Psalmagtig is die behoefte tot gebed dat die tyd tog kom dat die wolf en die lam in een kampie sal lê, dat die geweld net tot 'n einde sal kom.
Hier onder is gedeeltes van die treurige verhaal
van die vrugte van geweld. Sien die skakel vir die hele berig.
I
rolled past him into the room, just inside the doorway.
There
was bin Laden standing there. He had his hands on a woman's shoulders, pushing
her ahead, not exactly toward me but by me, in the direction of the hallway
commotion. It was his youngest wife, Amal.
The
SEALs had nightscopes, but it was coal-black for bin Laden and the other
residents. He can hear but he can't see.
He
looked confused. And way taller than I was expecting. He had a cap on and
didn't appear to be hit. I can't tell you 100 percent, but he was standing and
moving. He was holding her in front of him. Maybe as a shield, I don't know.
For
me, it was a snapshot of a target ID, definitely him. Even in our kill houses
where we train, there are targets with his face on them. This was repetition
and muscle memory. That's him, boom, done.
I
thought in that first instant how skinny he was, how tall and how short his
beard was, all at once. He was wearing one of those white hats, but he had,
like, an almost shaved head. Like a crew cut. I remember all that registering.
I was amazed how tall he was, taller than all of us, and it didn't seem like he
would be, because all those guys were always smaller than you think.
I'm
just looking at him from right here [he moves his hand out
from his face about ten inches]. He's got a gun on a shelf right there, the
short AK he's famous for. And he's moving forward. I don't know if she's got a
vest and she's being pushed to martyr them both. He's got a gun within reach.
He's a threat. I need to get a head shot so he won't have a chance to clack
himself off [blow himself up].
In
that second, I shot him, two times in the forehead. Bap! Bap! The second time
as he's going down. He crumpled onto the floor in front of his bed and I hit
him again, Bap! same place. That time I used my EOTech red-dot holo sight. He
was dead. Not moving. His tongue was out. I watched him take his last breaths,
just a reflex breath.
And
I remember as I watched him breathe out the last part of air, I thought: Is
this the best thing I've ever done, or the worst thing I've ever done? This is
real and that's him. Holy shit.
Everybody
wanted him dead, but nobody wanted to say, Hey, you're going to kill this guy.
It was just sort of understood that's what we wanted to do.
His
forehead was gruesome. It was split open in the shape of a V. I could see his
brains spilling out over his face. The American public doesn't want to know what
that looks like.
Amal
turned back, and she was screaming, first at bin Laden and then at me. She came
at me like she wanted to fight me, or that she wanted to die instead of him. So
I put her on the bed, bound with zip ties. Then I realized that bin Laden's
youngest son, who is about two or three, was standing there on the other side
of the bed. I didn't want to hurt him, because I'm not a savage. There was a
lot of screaming, he was crying, just in shock. I didn't like that he was
scared. He's a kid, and had nothing to do with this. I picked him up and put
him next to his mother. I put some water on his face.
The
point man came in and zip-tied the other two women he'd grabbed.
The
third-floor action and killing took maybe fifteen seconds.
From
there, the team accompanied the body to nearby Bagram Airfield. During the
next few hours, the thought that hit me was "This is awesome. This is
great. We lived. This is perfect. We just did it all."
The
moment truly struck at Bagram when I'm eating a breakfast sandwich, standing
near bin Laden's body, looking at a big-screen TV with the president announcing
the raid. I'm sitting there watching him, looking at the body, looking at the
president, eating a sausage-egg-cheese-and-extra-bacon sandwich thinking,
"How the fuck did I get here? This is too much."
I
still didn't know if it would be good or bad. The good was having done
something great for my country, for the guys, for the people of New York. It
was closure. An honor to be there.
I
never expected people to be screaming "U.S.A.!" with Geraldo outside
the White House.
The
bad part was security. He was their prophet, basically. Now we killed him and I
have to worry about this forever. Al Qaeda, especially these days, is 99
percent talk. But that 1 percent of the time they do shit, it's bad. They're
capable of horrific things.
Read more: Man Who Killed Osama Bin Laden - Treatment of Veteran Who Shot bin Laden - Esquire http://www.esquire.com/features/man-who-shot-osama-bin-laden-0313-6#ixzz2Ko5zpmX9
