A US Army veteran has recounted how he was blinded by a sniper’s bullet during the war in Afghanistan. A Florida father says he lost his best friend when his oldest son, a Green Beret, was killed in a roadside charge. A former bomb squad member has described two decades of trauma and anxiety over defusing a car bomb that could have killed him.
Prosecutors presented their case on Friday to an 11-member U.S. military jury who heard evidence in the sentencing trial of a prisoner named Abdul Hadi al-Iraq that showed the U.S. invasion The physical and spiritual carnage of early Afghanistan.
Hardy, 63, sat quietly next to his U.S. military and civilian attorneys throughout his testimony, his head lowered much of the time. Next week he will tell a jury about his failing health and trauma in U.S. custody, where he was held for several months by the CIA after his arrest in Turkey in 2006.
The case is an unusual one in a court that mostly hears terrorism cases such as the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks. Al Qaeda commanders and Taliban insurgents in Afghanistan have committed classic war crimes, including using civilian cover to carry out attacks, such as turning taxis into car bombs.
Friday’s testimony casts a spotlight on the incursions by the international coalition assembled by President George W. Bush in the aftermath of Sept. 11 to hunt down Osama bin Laden and dismantle the Taliban that provided safe haven for al Qaeda. It was America’s longest war, ultimately ending with the withdrawal of U.S. troops in August 2021, 10 months before Hadi’s guilty plea.
Sgt. Douglas Van Tassel, an active-duty Canadian paratrooper, donned his uniform and jump boots to bear witness to the sacrifice of fellow Canadian Cpl. Jamie B. Murphy, 26, was killed in 2004 when a suicide bomber attacked their convoy of two Jeeps as they were traveling near Kabul. Jamie B. Murphy died.
Officer Van Tassel wiped tears from his eyes and described how the fear and hardship of continuing to serve took a toll on his family. “I’m going to keep doing it until I can’t do it anymore,” he said, declaring that he was “scared of not being busy” after he retired.
Under court rules, the victim cannot recommend a sentence to a jury of U.S. Army, Air Force and Marine Corps officers, who will decide on a sentence of 25 to 30 years in prison. Instead, witnesses told their stories of loss.
For Maris Lebid, a detective with the Cape Coral, Florida, Police Department, her brother, Capt. Daniel W. Eggers, 28, is already the leader of his six siblings while working with his three other members. And the instructor.
She called him “the solid foundation of our family” and a big brother who “always knew what to say and what to do.”
Their father, Bill Eggers, a Vietnam veteran, calls his oldest son “my best friend, my son and my buddy,” whom he shared while deployed to Afghanistan war stories.
After learning of his death, Mr. Eggers said: “My post-traumatic stress disorder just exploded.” He said the condition caused cognitive difficulties and he was treated at the Florida Department of Veterans Affairs.
Tears streamed down the retired Master Chief’s face. Former National Guard soldier Robert Stout has difficulty describing the trauma he has experienced since March 2004. Realizing it might be an improvised car bomb.
It failed to explode, but Sergeant Stott, a former bomb disposal expert with the state police force, later discovered about 500 pounds of explosives inside and defused it. The incident has haunted him ever since and forced him to retire early from public service.
“I need to regain my composure,” he said, describing himself as being in a constant state of high alert. Even now, twenty years later, he says, “I have a problem with crying over stupid things. It’s just so embarrassing.”
Colin Rich, a retired U.S. Army sergeant major, was escorted to the witness stand by prosecutors and told how he was hit in the head by an enemy bullet on December 29, 2002. Organizes, finances, supplies and oversees al-Qaeda’s operations in Afghanistan against U.S. and coalition forces.”
As time passed, Master Chief Rich’s vision was reduced to only 20%. “My days of knocking on doors were over,” he said, describing how he continued to serve in an administrative capacity until retiring due to illness five years later.
“I haven’t driven in 20 years,” he said. “I had to have people run errands for me. I spent most of my time at home waiting for another seizure.
