Free Code Name: Johnny Walker: The Extraordinary Story of the Iraqi Who Risked Everything to Fight with the U.S. Navy SEALs by Jim DeFelice, Johnny Walker Page B

And my mother was right—there was no comparison to the rations the Iraqi army typically had. In our military, it was not unusual to go completely without army-supplied food for three or four or even five days. If you couldn’t buy something on your own or get it somehow from home, you would starve. But here was a country that gave its soldiers so much food that they grew tired of it and even gave it away.
    From that moment on, I wanted to work with the Americans. I realized they had money and food, two things in very short supply in Mosul, and if I worked with them, I could take care of my family.
    I began seeking out American soldiers, asking who I could talk to about getting a job. Finally I found an officer who was relatively friendly. Mack—I forget his real name and even his rank, though I think he was a captain—couldn’t give me a job, but he was respectful and encouraging in other ways. When we met, he was overseeing a work unit building and repairing playgrounds around the city. I started hanging around and helping when I could, digging the holes for swing sets and then helping get them up.
    My English was very, very limited. But there were no translators with Mack’s unit, and that occasionally made me useful. I helped communicate a few simple phrases from fellow Iraqis, and slowly I gained his confidence by answering questions he had about the area and different customs.
    One day, I noticed a man walking toward the plot of land where the Americans were working. I recognized him right away; he was well known locally as someone soft in the head, often under the influence of drugs. No one in Mosul who knew him took him seriously.
    He could, however, be very belligerent some days, and even from a distance it was obvious this was going to be one of those days. He walked up to the soldiers and tried starting a fight. I rushed over and intervened.
    “He’s not in his right mind,” I told the Americans, who were bewildered by his rants. “Don’t pay attention to him. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”
    I pushed him away. He retreated—then returned a few minutes later, holding a hand grenade.
    The grenade was ancient; I doubt it would have exploded no matter what the circumstances were. But you can imagine the reaction. I ran over and grabbed him before he got too close to the soldiers. I took the grenade away and gave it to one of the soldiers, then pulled the idiot down the street. I found his home and told his family what had happened. They saw to it that he never bothered the Americans again.
    It seems remarkable now that an incident like that could have passed without grave repercussions for the man, but it did. This was a calm period of time in Mosul—there may have been some animosity toward the Americans, but if so it hadn’t been expressed in violent terms. A year or two later, a man with a grenade, no matter how old it was, no matter how crazy he was, would surely have been shot on sight. But at this point it was unusual and bizarre, very much out of the ordinary, and fortunately not taken as a real threat.
    Grateful for my help, Mack gave me advice on how to find a job. He told me that the army was looking for translators and that the best way to get a position was to apply at the U.S. base at the airfield outside the city. The airport—the same one I’d seen bombed—had been turned into a large American complex, and units from all different service branches were locating there.
    Mack went further than just giving me advice. He managed to get me an appointment for an interview at eight o’clock one morning. I’m still grateful for his help.
     
    THE AIRPORT WAS six or seven kilometers from my house—roughly four and a half miles away. The only way to get there early in the morning was to walk. And so I did.
    When I got there, I saw there was already a crowd of other men outside the fence. We waited awhile, maybe a half hour, maybe an hour, until finally an American soldier came and