Post by Okwes on Jul 10, 2006 16:47:03 GMT -5
Native American veterans hold special place in tribe, country
BY BETHANY ROOT, NEWS-REVIEW STAFF WRITER
Friday, July 7, 2006 12:09 PM EDT
From Pershing's Indian scouts to Teddy Roosevelt's Rough Riders to World War II's Navajo codetalkers, Native American soldiers have spent much of the last 100 years honoring and protecting the United States, even when the United States didn't necessarily honor and protect their tribes.
According to the Navy Historical Center, 12,000 Native Americans served in the United States military during World War I, and 44,000 out of a total population of less than 350,000 served with distinction in World War II.
Frank Ettawageshik, chairman of the Little Traverse Bay Bands of Odawa Indians, said that while Native Americans are citizens of the tribal nation first and the United States second, their dual citizenship comes with dual responsibilities.
“Native Americans have served in the armed forces in the U.S. in all of the conflicts of the last century and this one,” he said. “And they've been a greater percentage of armed forces than they are of the general population. This is in part a cultural reflection on the importance we put on the protection of our homes and protection of our families and culture.”
Some area Native American veterans entered the military to gain opportunity. Others followed a family tradition. But all perpetuated a long legacy of Native Americans who have put their lives on the line, not only for their tribal nation, but for the United States.
Always there
For David Kagabitang, his experience as a Native American in the military was illustrated by one thing - his name. Most of his military brethren couldn't pronounce it, let alone interpret it.
“Everybody thought my name was funny and always asked me what kind of name it was,” said Kagabitang, who was born in Petoskey and now works as a mental health therapist for the tribe. “They wouldn't call me my regular name. They called me ‘alphabet' or ‘cabbage,' and toward the end they just started calling me ‘Tang.'”
In fact, when Kagabitang was promoted, his sergeant major wrote him a note that merely said, “Corporal Tang has a nice ring to it.”
Kagabitang was used to nicknames. In high school, many people called him Kagab, meaning “somebody who is always there,” he said.
And while he was first there for the United States, he is now there for his tribe. The time he spent in the military helped motivate him to reconnect with his culture once he returned to the area.
Kagabitang joined the Marines a year before he graduated from high school in 1988. At the time, he had varied reasons for choosing that branch of the military, including the fact that he didn't want to end up on a ship. Ironically, that's where he was stationed much of the time.
“Part of the reason why I joined the military had to do with just getting out of an economically depressed area,” said Kagabitang, who was living in L'Anse at the time of his enlistment. “I didn't see much of a future staying in that town.”
Kagabitang also hoped to earn money for college and to travel to places he wouldn't normally have gotten a chance to see. But he was motivated by more than ambition and curiosity.
“I grew up on welfare, so I thought I owed something back to the state,” he said. He didn't want to owe anyone anything.
After going to boot camp in San Diego and infantry school at Camp Pendleton in California, Kagabitang served in the 1st Marine division, the 1st Marine regiment, the 1st battalion, 9th Marines, as part of the fleet Marine force. Members of the force would serve six-month tours of duty in areas of the world where the United States had interests.
Kagabitang went on two tours, in 1989 and 1991, both in the Western Pacific region. He traveled to Thailand, Korea, and Hong Kong, but one of his most memorable experiences was helping to clean up after Mount Penatubo exploded in the Philippines, leaving an ashy coating covering the surrounding towns like dirty snow, sometimes 2 feet deep.
Part of the Western Pacific geographic area was the Persian Gulf, and Kagabitang's unit served some time there during Operation Desert Storm in 1991. It was there, sitting on the deck of the ship during a drill, that he had an epiphany.
“Sitting in flight deck, we had hand grenades and all this ammo packed on us,” said Kagabitang, who met only one other Native American soldier during his time in the Marines. “We had rockets strapped to us and I was thinking, ‘I have to do something else with my life.'
“From the Native American perspective, I was thinking to myself, I'm an Odawa. What am I doing over here, going to fight with this person from over here? What real beef did I have with somebody over there?”
At that moment, Kagabitang decided to get out of the military. While he originally had been motivated by patriotism and a loyalty to his country, he became more interested in his heritage, which he previously had little knowledge about.
One day soon after his honorable discharge, his uncle Joe held a pipe ceremony for him, during which Kagabitang exchanged his “war” colors - Marine Corps browns - for red, black, white and yellow, the colors of his tribe. While he later joined the National Guard for five years, his new alliance was to his Odawa culture.
“My new focus as a warrior wasn't the warlike warrior, but the peaceful warrior,” Kagabitang said.
After using the GI bill to help pay for room and board, he received a bachelor's degree in social work from Northern Michigan University. A few years ago, he received a master's degree in the same field from Grand Valley State University. Although he worked at a Wisconsin residential treatment center for a while, he was hoping a job would open up at the tribe. One finally did in 2000.
“There was some kind of pull to get back home and share my experience and education with the community,” he explained.
Kagabitang has applied the things he learned in the military to his service to the tribe. Before his unit went to the Persian Gulf, a general spoke to them about self-sacrifice and self-discipline, and the words stuck with him.
“The self-discipline to do what needs to be done, and the self-sacrifice meaning that sometimes you need to put others ahead of yourself,” he said. “It's about the community, not about you, because the community supports you.”
“I try to teach those things every day, working with mentally ill and substance abusing clients,” he said. “They're the same things you want to teach your kids.”
Once he became more involved in his culture, he learned that veterans play an important part in the tribe. They carry the flags and eagle staffs during many activities.
During his time as a veteran, Kagabitang has walked with staffs on Veterans Day and spoken at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial.
“It's a great honor and responsibility that you're respected and asked to do that,” he said. “You hold the place of honor in the community.”
Warrior woman
After years of military service, Margaret Gasco received the ultimate compliment - the Indian name Gascoigne Ogicchidaa Kwe, or “Muskrat Warrior Woman.”
She received the name in a 2005 ceremony, after becoming a official member of the tribe in 1996.
“I was very proud of that name, very proud of it,” said Gasco, who has worked for the tribe's housing department for four years.
After Gasco graduated from Harbor Springs High School in 1983 and held a series of odd jobs for four years, she was eager to leave Northern Michigan and do something different.
As a young man her father had been drafted and served for a few years in Vietnam, but Gasco didn't think her parents would be pleased to find out she had enlisted, so she didn't tell them.
“I did it without my parents knowing,” she said. “Until my recruiter called them. That's how they found out!”
Gasco decided to become a motor transport operator like her father. She spent two and a half years at a duty station in Germany, then was stationed at Fort Campbell in Kentucky. In 1990, she was deployed to Saudi Arabia, where she drove a tractor-trailer full of ammunition during Operation Desert Storm.
“I was scared at first when I got over there,” Gasco said. “I was hit with reality. The second day, seeing missiles going above you, that's when you realize, ‘hey, this is real.'”
Gasco wasn't intimidated for long, though. Soon, she was living up to her Native American name, climbing the ranks to sergeant.
“I liked everything about it,” she said. “That was my place in life, that was where I felt I was meant to be.”
But while Gasco put her heart and soul into the job, she was often distracted by others who were surprised about seeing a Native American female truck driver.
“I was amazed at the amount of people who have never met a Native American before,” said Gasco. “I was shocked. They always asked me, ‘what are you?'
“It was tough, because I had a job to do.”
While Gasco typically encountered mild curiosity about her status as a Native American soldier, she often came across shock and sometimes animosity because of her status as a female soldier, she said.
“Being a truck driver and female, people said ‘oh, you can't do this or that,'” recalled Gasco, who handled everything from 5,000 gallon water tankers to gas tankers. “Oh yes I can.”
“They'd see me jump out of a truck and think, ‘oh my gosh, it's a female,'” she added.
Gasco was a natural talent at truck driving, but while she was in Saudi Arabia, native men especially were taken aback by seeing a woman driving a military truck.
During one trip, an Arab man stuck his foot in the truck window, Gasco recalled. In Saudi Arabia, she said, showing the bottom of the feet is an offensive gesture.
“The men over there did not like women in the military,” she recalled. “And they let you know.”
Upon her return to the United States and her re-enlistment in November 1992, Gasco was shipped to Fort Bragg, N.C., to train officers.
Although Gasco loved her job in the military, she decided not to re-enlist after her father was diagnosed with leukemia - he died five years later. As a child, her father taught her and her seven siblings some of the Odawa language. After his death, she wanted to become more involved in the tribe.
At one point, she said, “The tribe asked me to carry the flag, as their way of honoring me for what I did. I felt very honored.”
Gasco also has a 3-year-old daughter, Emma Louise, whom she plans to immerse in the Odawa culture and hopes to have dance in the pow-wow this year.
“I have no regrets,” said Gasco, who would have been eligible to retire from the military next year had she remained enlisted. “That was an awesome experience and my place in life, I loved it.”
“There was some prejudice,” she added. “But I just showed 'em what I could do, and most of the time I did better than the men in company.”
Serving and protecting
Upon his return from serving in Iraq, Marine Corps. and National Guard veteran Vince Cook received something from the tribe that was more tangible than a name - he got his job back.
Cook, descended from the Tlinket tribe in Alaska and the regulatory director for Little Traverse Bay Bands, said that the fact that the tribe kept his position open in his absence spoke volumes about how veterans are honored by the tribe. After spending his life in professions that involve taking care of people, someone finally took care of him.
“When we got back, several soldiers didn't necessarily have employment waiting for them,” he said. “I'm just thankful I didn't have to face the situation that some of the guys did. I really thank the LTB Bands for what they did.”
Cook joined the Marines immediately after high school. He worked mainly as a helicopter mechanic, and was stationed in Okinawa, Japan, three times. He also served in search and rescue in Yuma, Ariz., for three years.
After 12 years of active duty in the Marine Corps, he decided to enlist in the National Guard for eight years in order to fulfill the 20 years required for retirement.
Little did he know, one of those years would include time in Iraq.
Cook's wife, Nadine, said she never expected her husband to be deployed somewhere. But after Sept. 11, she realized he might have to go. So every time he returned from National Guard week, she'd ask him if it was his turn yet. Eventually, the answer was yes.
“Our battalion was tasked to put a unit together to go,” he said. “We pulled names from all four different batteries in the unit to get enough people to go. Somehow my name ended up on that short list.”
“With my background in both the Marine Corps and law enforcement and security, I felt I might have something to contribute to help make sure guys came back,” he added.
Cook went to Iraq in the summer of 2004 and stayed for 11 months. His main duties included working with the Mobile Launch Rocket System and ensuring safety.
One of his primary assignments was to train Iraqi police, he said. Because of the corruption running rampant in the area, they focused on sharing police tactics with the Iraqi forces, and not military ones.
“All we are trying to do is teach them some lessons to help them when we are gone,” he said. “There are just so many things there that need to be fixed. It's just going to be many years from now before things get a lot better.”
While he was gone, Nadine was left to raise their two children, 14-year-old Nicholas and 11-year-old Suzann. Although she had a hard time as a suddenly single parent, they were able to communicate with Cook through e-mail and Web cam.
“I'd always joke with Vince, you took the easy way out and went over to Iraq and let me handle our son and puberty,” Nadine said with a laugh.
Nadine often caught her daughter watching cable news channels, looking for her dad. She ended up blocking channels.
“There was all this violence she didn't need to see,” she said.
Iraqis had different reactions to him and other American soldiers, Cook said. Some of the Iraqis were happy because they thought change was necessary. In certain areas, soldiers are greeted with waves and smiles.
Other times, when people saw a military vehicle they started throwing rocks and bottles. At one point, Cook's Humvee had 50 or 60 children chasing it.
“We were constantly changing the windows,” he said.
One time, he recalled, he and his fellow soldiers asked native children to help them clean up an area of Baghdad. They started out with about a dozen kids ranging from 8 to 14 years old, and offered to pay them each 2000 dinar (less than $2) for their help.
“Our line grew so huge, we had adults trying to push kids out of the way to get the money,” he recalled. “We had to shut it down, we thought we were going to start a riot for a second there.”
Cook also encountered an older woman who told her story with the help of an interpreter. She lived in a household of 10 women and children, and all of the men had died in different conflicts.
The woman said $10 would feed the entire family for a week.
“Everybody has a story over there, it's terrible,” Cook said.
During his time in Iraq, Cook was asked to fill in for the platoon sergeant and platoon leader at the same time. He basically ran the platoon for a month and a half, making a few changes and keeping things running smoothly.
He also filled in for the platoon sergeant multiple times, as well as other squad leaders who were on vacation. Overall, he was a strong leader in his unit, which was instrumental in setting up training for the Iraqi police.
While he never saw the paperwork, he said that this leadership is probably what earned him his Bronze star. Still, Cook is modest about his award. He preferred receiving his Bronze star from the platoon sergeant quietly, rather than in a big ceremony. He also thinks that others probably deserved it as much as he did.
“I look at the job everyone else did over there, the people in vehicles that have to head out every day, in the most vulnerable position,” he said. “Those are the people who should be receiving something for going above and beyond.”
Cook returned from Iraq on Dec. 21. He arrived in Lansing, where a short ceremony took place before the soldiers went home with their families.
“The night before was like Christmas Eve,” Nadine said with a laugh.
Cook has about two years left until he should be able to retire. Currently, Cook is setting up training for the soldiers from his unit who volunteered to return to Iraq. He's “not allowed” to go back himself, he said, looking at Nadine with a smile.
Still, Cook considered it an honor to protect the United States.
“Being Native American, I've always felt a sense of patriotism,” he said.
Cook and other area Native American veterans may serve the United States out of love for their tribe or country. But the tribe makes sure it loves them back.
Ettawageshik said that veterans are flag carriers and represent protectors of the people.
“We acknowledge that sacrifice that they've made throughout the rest of their lives,” he said. “We hold them in great respect.”
During pow-wows, one of the early dances is a song that honors veterans, he added. The song thanks them for their services and acknowledges their sacrifices.
“Those people who put their lives at risk so that the rest of us can have safe and peaceful homes and have a protected place, often carry scars from those battles,” he said. “Those scars are sometimes physical, but also emotional and mental, and it's important that we acknowledge that and that we help take care of them just as they've taken care of us.”
Bethany Root can be reached at 439-9397, or broot@petoskeynews.com.
BY BETHANY ROOT, NEWS-REVIEW STAFF WRITER
Friday, July 7, 2006 12:09 PM EDT
From Pershing's Indian scouts to Teddy Roosevelt's Rough Riders to World War II's Navajo codetalkers, Native American soldiers have spent much of the last 100 years honoring and protecting the United States, even when the United States didn't necessarily honor and protect their tribes.
According to the Navy Historical Center, 12,000 Native Americans served in the United States military during World War I, and 44,000 out of a total population of less than 350,000 served with distinction in World War II.
Frank Ettawageshik, chairman of the Little Traverse Bay Bands of Odawa Indians, said that while Native Americans are citizens of the tribal nation first and the United States second, their dual citizenship comes with dual responsibilities.
“Native Americans have served in the armed forces in the U.S. in all of the conflicts of the last century and this one,” he said. “And they've been a greater percentage of armed forces than they are of the general population. This is in part a cultural reflection on the importance we put on the protection of our homes and protection of our families and culture.”
Some area Native American veterans entered the military to gain opportunity. Others followed a family tradition. But all perpetuated a long legacy of Native Americans who have put their lives on the line, not only for their tribal nation, but for the United States.
Always there
For David Kagabitang, his experience as a Native American in the military was illustrated by one thing - his name. Most of his military brethren couldn't pronounce it, let alone interpret it.
“Everybody thought my name was funny and always asked me what kind of name it was,” said Kagabitang, who was born in Petoskey and now works as a mental health therapist for the tribe. “They wouldn't call me my regular name. They called me ‘alphabet' or ‘cabbage,' and toward the end they just started calling me ‘Tang.'”
In fact, when Kagabitang was promoted, his sergeant major wrote him a note that merely said, “Corporal Tang has a nice ring to it.”
Kagabitang was used to nicknames. In high school, many people called him Kagab, meaning “somebody who is always there,” he said.
And while he was first there for the United States, he is now there for his tribe. The time he spent in the military helped motivate him to reconnect with his culture once he returned to the area.
Kagabitang joined the Marines a year before he graduated from high school in 1988. At the time, he had varied reasons for choosing that branch of the military, including the fact that he didn't want to end up on a ship. Ironically, that's where he was stationed much of the time.
“Part of the reason why I joined the military had to do with just getting out of an economically depressed area,” said Kagabitang, who was living in L'Anse at the time of his enlistment. “I didn't see much of a future staying in that town.”
Kagabitang also hoped to earn money for college and to travel to places he wouldn't normally have gotten a chance to see. But he was motivated by more than ambition and curiosity.
“I grew up on welfare, so I thought I owed something back to the state,” he said. He didn't want to owe anyone anything.
After going to boot camp in San Diego and infantry school at Camp Pendleton in California, Kagabitang served in the 1st Marine division, the 1st Marine regiment, the 1st battalion, 9th Marines, as part of the fleet Marine force. Members of the force would serve six-month tours of duty in areas of the world where the United States had interests.
Kagabitang went on two tours, in 1989 and 1991, both in the Western Pacific region. He traveled to Thailand, Korea, and Hong Kong, but one of his most memorable experiences was helping to clean up after Mount Penatubo exploded in the Philippines, leaving an ashy coating covering the surrounding towns like dirty snow, sometimes 2 feet deep.
Part of the Western Pacific geographic area was the Persian Gulf, and Kagabitang's unit served some time there during Operation Desert Storm in 1991. It was there, sitting on the deck of the ship during a drill, that he had an epiphany.
“Sitting in flight deck, we had hand grenades and all this ammo packed on us,” said Kagabitang, who met only one other Native American soldier during his time in the Marines. “We had rockets strapped to us and I was thinking, ‘I have to do something else with my life.'
“From the Native American perspective, I was thinking to myself, I'm an Odawa. What am I doing over here, going to fight with this person from over here? What real beef did I have with somebody over there?”
At that moment, Kagabitang decided to get out of the military. While he originally had been motivated by patriotism and a loyalty to his country, he became more interested in his heritage, which he previously had little knowledge about.
One day soon after his honorable discharge, his uncle Joe held a pipe ceremony for him, during which Kagabitang exchanged his “war” colors - Marine Corps browns - for red, black, white and yellow, the colors of his tribe. While he later joined the National Guard for five years, his new alliance was to his Odawa culture.
“My new focus as a warrior wasn't the warlike warrior, but the peaceful warrior,” Kagabitang said.
After using the GI bill to help pay for room and board, he received a bachelor's degree in social work from Northern Michigan University. A few years ago, he received a master's degree in the same field from Grand Valley State University. Although he worked at a Wisconsin residential treatment center for a while, he was hoping a job would open up at the tribe. One finally did in 2000.
“There was some kind of pull to get back home and share my experience and education with the community,” he explained.
Kagabitang has applied the things he learned in the military to his service to the tribe. Before his unit went to the Persian Gulf, a general spoke to them about self-sacrifice and self-discipline, and the words stuck with him.
“The self-discipline to do what needs to be done, and the self-sacrifice meaning that sometimes you need to put others ahead of yourself,” he said. “It's about the community, not about you, because the community supports you.”
“I try to teach those things every day, working with mentally ill and substance abusing clients,” he said. “They're the same things you want to teach your kids.”
Once he became more involved in his culture, he learned that veterans play an important part in the tribe. They carry the flags and eagle staffs during many activities.
During his time as a veteran, Kagabitang has walked with staffs on Veterans Day and spoken at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial.
“It's a great honor and responsibility that you're respected and asked to do that,” he said. “You hold the place of honor in the community.”
Warrior woman
After years of military service, Margaret Gasco received the ultimate compliment - the Indian name Gascoigne Ogicchidaa Kwe, or “Muskrat Warrior Woman.”
She received the name in a 2005 ceremony, after becoming a official member of the tribe in 1996.
“I was very proud of that name, very proud of it,” said Gasco, who has worked for the tribe's housing department for four years.
After Gasco graduated from Harbor Springs High School in 1983 and held a series of odd jobs for four years, she was eager to leave Northern Michigan and do something different.
As a young man her father had been drafted and served for a few years in Vietnam, but Gasco didn't think her parents would be pleased to find out she had enlisted, so she didn't tell them.
“I did it without my parents knowing,” she said. “Until my recruiter called them. That's how they found out!”
Gasco decided to become a motor transport operator like her father. She spent two and a half years at a duty station in Germany, then was stationed at Fort Campbell in Kentucky. In 1990, she was deployed to Saudi Arabia, where she drove a tractor-trailer full of ammunition during Operation Desert Storm.
“I was scared at first when I got over there,” Gasco said. “I was hit with reality. The second day, seeing missiles going above you, that's when you realize, ‘hey, this is real.'”
Gasco wasn't intimidated for long, though. Soon, she was living up to her Native American name, climbing the ranks to sergeant.
“I liked everything about it,” she said. “That was my place in life, that was where I felt I was meant to be.”
But while Gasco put her heart and soul into the job, she was often distracted by others who were surprised about seeing a Native American female truck driver.
“I was amazed at the amount of people who have never met a Native American before,” said Gasco. “I was shocked. They always asked me, ‘what are you?'
“It was tough, because I had a job to do.”
While Gasco typically encountered mild curiosity about her status as a Native American soldier, she often came across shock and sometimes animosity because of her status as a female soldier, she said.
“Being a truck driver and female, people said ‘oh, you can't do this or that,'” recalled Gasco, who handled everything from 5,000 gallon water tankers to gas tankers. “Oh yes I can.”
“They'd see me jump out of a truck and think, ‘oh my gosh, it's a female,'” she added.
Gasco was a natural talent at truck driving, but while she was in Saudi Arabia, native men especially were taken aback by seeing a woman driving a military truck.
During one trip, an Arab man stuck his foot in the truck window, Gasco recalled. In Saudi Arabia, she said, showing the bottom of the feet is an offensive gesture.
“The men over there did not like women in the military,” she recalled. “And they let you know.”
Upon her return to the United States and her re-enlistment in November 1992, Gasco was shipped to Fort Bragg, N.C., to train officers.
Although Gasco loved her job in the military, she decided not to re-enlist after her father was diagnosed with leukemia - he died five years later. As a child, her father taught her and her seven siblings some of the Odawa language. After his death, she wanted to become more involved in the tribe.
At one point, she said, “The tribe asked me to carry the flag, as their way of honoring me for what I did. I felt very honored.”
Gasco also has a 3-year-old daughter, Emma Louise, whom she plans to immerse in the Odawa culture and hopes to have dance in the pow-wow this year.
“I have no regrets,” said Gasco, who would have been eligible to retire from the military next year had she remained enlisted. “That was an awesome experience and my place in life, I loved it.”
“There was some prejudice,” she added. “But I just showed 'em what I could do, and most of the time I did better than the men in company.”
Serving and protecting
Upon his return from serving in Iraq, Marine Corps. and National Guard veteran Vince Cook received something from the tribe that was more tangible than a name - he got his job back.
Cook, descended from the Tlinket tribe in Alaska and the regulatory director for Little Traverse Bay Bands, said that the fact that the tribe kept his position open in his absence spoke volumes about how veterans are honored by the tribe. After spending his life in professions that involve taking care of people, someone finally took care of him.
“When we got back, several soldiers didn't necessarily have employment waiting for them,” he said. “I'm just thankful I didn't have to face the situation that some of the guys did. I really thank the LTB Bands for what they did.”
Cook joined the Marines immediately after high school. He worked mainly as a helicopter mechanic, and was stationed in Okinawa, Japan, three times. He also served in search and rescue in Yuma, Ariz., for three years.
After 12 years of active duty in the Marine Corps, he decided to enlist in the National Guard for eight years in order to fulfill the 20 years required for retirement.
Little did he know, one of those years would include time in Iraq.
Cook's wife, Nadine, said she never expected her husband to be deployed somewhere. But after Sept. 11, she realized he might have to go. So every time he returned from National Guard week, she'd ask him if it was his turn yet. Eventually, the answer was yes.
“Our battalion was tasked to put a unit together to go,” he said. “We pulled names from all four different batteries in the unit to get enough people to go. Somehow my name ended up on that short list.”
“With my background in both the Marine Corps and law enforcement and security, I felt I might have something to contribute to help make sure guys came back,” he added.
Cook went to Iraq in the summer of 2004 and stayed for 11 months. His main duties included working with the Mobile Launch Rocket System and ensuring safety.
One of his primary assignments was to train Iraqi police, he said. Because of the corruption running rampant in the area, they focused on sharing police tactics with the Iraqi forces, and not military ones.
“All we are trying to do is teach them some lessons to help them when we are gone,” he said. “There are just so many things there that need to be fixed. It's just going to be many years from now before things get a lot better.”
While he was gone, Nadine was left to raise their two children, 14-year-old Nicholas and 11-year-old Suzann. Although she had a hard time as a suddenly single parent, they were able to communicate with Cook through e-mail and Web cam.
“I'd always joke with Vince, you took the easy way out and went over to Iraq and let me handle our son and puberty,” Nadine said with a laugh.
Nadine often caught her daughter watching cable news channels, looking for her dad. She ended up blocking channels.
“There was all this violence she didn't need to see,” she said.
Iraqis had different reactions to him and other American soldiers, Cook said. Some of the Iraqis were happy because they thought change was necessary. In certain areas, soldiers are greeted with waves and smiles.
Other times, when people saw a military vehicle they started throwing rocks and bottles. At one point, Cook's Humvee had 50 or 60 children chasing it.
“We were constantly changing the windows,” he said.
One time, he recalled, he and his fellow soldiers asked native children to help them clean up an area of Baghdad. They started out with about a dozen kids ranging from 8 to 14 years old, and offered to pay them each 2000 dinar (less than $2) for their help.
“Our line grew so huge, we had adults trying to push kids out of the way to get the money,” he recalled. “We had to shut it down, we thought we were going to start a riot for a second there.”
Cook also encountered an older woman who told her story with the help of an interpreter. She lived in a household of 10 women and children, and all of the men had died in different conflicts.
The woman said $10 would feed the entire family for a week.
“Everybody has a story over there, it's terrible,” Cook said.
During his time in Iraq, Cook was asked to fill in for the platoon sergeant and platoon leader at the same time. He basically ran the platoon for a month and a half, making a few changes and keeping things running smoothly.
He also filled in for the platoon sergeant multiple times, as well as other squad leaders who were on vacation. Overall, he was a strong leader in his unit, which was instrumental in setting up training for the Iraqi police.
While he never saw the paperwork, he said that this leadership is probably what earned him his Bronze star. Still, Cook is modest about his award. He preferred receiving his Bronze star from the platoon sergeant quietly, rather than in a big ceremony. He also thinks that others probably deserved it as much as he did.
“I look at the job everyone else did over there, the people in vehicles that have to head out every day, in the most vulnerable position,” he said. “Those are the people who should be receiving something for going above and beyond.”
Cook returned from Iraq on Dec. 21. He arrived in Lansing, where a short ceremony took place before the soldiers went home with their families.
“The night before was like Christmas Eve,” Nadine said with a laugh.
Cook has about two years left until he should be able to retire. Currently, Cook is setting up training for the soldiers from his unit who volunteered to return to Iraq. He's “not allowed” to go back himself, he said, looking at Nadine with a smile.
Still, Cook considered it an honor to protect the United States.
“Being Native American, I've always felt a sense of patriotism,” he said.
Cook and other area Native American veterans may serve the United States out of love for their tribe or country. But the tribe makes sure it loves them back.
Ettawageshik said that veterans are flag carriers and represent protectors of the people.
“We acknowledge that sacrifice that they've made throughout the rest of their lives,” he said. “We hold them in great respect.”
During pow-wows, one of the early dances is a song that honors veterans, he added. The song thanks them for their services and acknowledges their sacrifices.
“Those people who put their lives at risk so that the rest of us can have safe and peaceful homes and have a protected place, often carry scars from those battles,” he said. “Those scars are sometimes physical, but also emotional and mental, and it's important that we acknowledge that and that we help take care of them just as they've taken care of us.”
Bethany Root can be reached at 439-9397, or broot@petoskeynews.com.