War Blog 87

After being brutally captured and beaten, David Williams and his copilot endured three weeks of torment in a series of decrepit prisons

‘I Said, “Please, God, Don’t Kill Me”’

David Williams, a POW for three weeks in Baghdad, recounts being held in captivity—and allows a NEWSWEEK reporter to accompany him as he first pilots a plane again

By Julie Scelfo

NEWSWEEK WEB EXCLUSIVE

June 6 — David Williams calls it “withdrawals”—the yearning he feels after spending too much time with his feet planted firmly on the earth instead of a few thousand feet above the ground. For years, the Apache helicopter pilot was airborne at least an hour or two each week, but that was before the early morning of March 24, when his chopper was shot down in Iraq and he became a prisoner of war.

AFTER BEING BRUTALLY captured and beaten, Williams and his copilot endured three weeks of torment in a series of decrepit prisons, in which they were repeatedly interrogated, blindfolded and bound with their hands behind their back. They also lived with the fear of being killed by the American air assault directed at Baghdad. At one point, a bomb blew off the prison roof and broke apart the concrete walls.

During this time, Williams, 30, says he came to believe that he would never again see his wife, Michelle, or their two children, Jason, 2, and seven-month-old daughter, Madison. But on April 13, a group of Marines liberated the POWs, and when Williams arrived back in Texas a few days later, he was met with a hero’s welcome. Since his return, Williams has visited with President Bush, attended a rally in his honor in Orlando, Florida, and appeared on “The Late Show with David Letterman.” He’s also struggled to overcome the haunting memories of his time in captivity, especially the harrowing moment when one particularly cruel guard touched the tip of an AK-47 directly to William’s temple and prepared to fire.

Until this week, he hadn’t had an opportunity to get back in the air. But that changed on Wednesday when he invited NEWSWEEK’s Julie Scelfo along for a ride in a single engine Cessna 172, taking off from the Killeen, Texas, airport and touring the surrounding areas. It didn’t take long for Williams, bright-eyed and muscular despite his ordeal, to regain his confidence. “All right baby, this is what it’s all about!” he cheered. But back on the ground, it was difficult for him to feel like the same person he was in the days before visiting Iraq. Excerpts:

NEWSWEEK: How’s your physical health?

David Williams: I lost 25 pounds from captivity. I’m still slowly gaining it back. I’ve only gained about five pounds so far.

Is it strange to hear yourself talk about “being in captivity”?

Yeah, it was like being an exhibit in a zoo. When they would look in on us, the guards wouldn’t say anything. They would just open the window to look at us, then shut it.

Do you think about what happened a lot?

I have nightmares, all that good stuff. It’s very dark. My hands are restricted and as hard as I try to yell, I can’t turn the lights on or get anyone’s attention.

Do certain things cause flashbacks?

I went on a cruise a few weeks after I got back from Kuwait. They were doing an air show and it was the most terrifying thing to hear those jets. Once I thought it was cool, but while I was in captivity I heard it every hour on the hour.

That must have been frightening.

I had a hard time every day in that cell. You can’t imagine, you cannot imagine the terror to ... have bombs dropped down on you. I literally came to grips that I won’t be coming home. Every campaign you hear boom, boom, boom. About the twelfth day, two bombs hit so close to our cell block the ceiling came down on us and walls three feet thick started to shake. I think about that every day.

In mid-April, Williams arrived back in Texas to his wife, Michelle, and a hero’s welcome

What was the worst moment?

During an interrogation. It was at night and I was blindfolded. I wasn’t answering questions the way they wanted and this guy spoke English and said, “You’re not being honest with us.” The barrel [was] lifted up to my temple and I hear him pull back the trigger. That was what my life was like for three weeks. I felt it against my head. I started crying—I said, “Please, God, don’t kill me.” I said to myself I have a wife and a little girl and also I was thinking, please make it quick.

Were there any lighter moments?

In the third prison, a guard came to the door and blindfolded and cuffed me and took me down the hallway. They sat me down and ripped off the blindfold, and there was a guy standing there with rubber gloves and a tray of utensils. The guy was like “Please. I am dentist and I want to look at your teeth.” I’m like, what the hell? With bombs and firefights, you want to worry about my teeth? After he examines me, he goes, “Please please, I am a dentist and you must brush your teeth.” I’m thinking, dude, I haven’t showered in 20 days and you want me to brush my teeth?

Do you think your life will ever be normal again?

They said it could be years. I don’t think it will ever be the same. It will probably never go away.

Submitted by: Marine Forces Central Command

Story by Gunnery Sgt. Shannon Arledge

THREE-RIVERS AIRFIELD, Iraq(April 14, 2003) -- Twelve Marines rescued seven prisoners of war April 13. The seven soldiers rescued were Chief Warrant Officers David Williams and Ronald Young, Army Sgt. James Riley, Specialists Shoshana Johnson, Joseph Hudson and Edgar Hernandez, and Pfc. Patrick Miller, were among those rescued.

The squad of Marines from the 3rd Light Armored Reconnaissance Battalion were securing a bridge south of Tikrit, Iraq, when they were given orders to conduct house-to-house raids in the nearby town of Samarra. The Marines were acting on credible tips from local residents that American prisoners were being held in one of the homes.

The seven captives were taken prisoner during late March in two separate battles. The two warrant officers were apprehended after alluding capture for more than one hour after their AH-64A Apache helicopter was shot down March 24.

The other five soldiers rescued were from the Army's 507th Maintenance Battalion. Their convoy came under heavy enemy fire March 23.

During the race to rescue the POW(s) the Marines met resistance from sniper fire in Samarra, said Lance Cpl. Curney Russell, 3rd LAR. Upon reaching one home, the Marines pounded on the door. When there was no answer, they forced their way in to find the Americans sitting on the floor with their captors waiting unarmed.

"It's a great feeling," said Russell a native of Manchester, N.H. I'm so glad they are alive. "One of the chief warrant officers hugged me and said he thought he would never see his family again."

The rescued Soldiers were rushed to vehicles, and transported to a seized airfield on the outskirts of Baghdad. At the airfield a Marine reserve KC-130 Hercules crew with Marine Aerial Refueler Squadron 452 from New York, was waiting to fly them to Kuwait.

"I can't describe how it feels to have been rescued by the Marines," said Johnson, one the rescued POW(s), and the mother of a 2-year-old daughter in El Paso, Texas. "When we were first taken we were close to the fighting and could hear the bombings. As the fighting got closer they kept moving us. I was scared."

"We were scared to death," said apache pilot Young, from Atlanta, Ga. "We all thought we were going to die."

All of the prisoners reported being unharmed during captivity; however, the two pilots said initially they were tied up, slapped in the face, and hit with sticks during the first few days. But as days lingered they were handed over to other captors. The POW(s)were moved a total of seven times.

"We were like hot potatoes," said Young. "No one wanted to keep us, so they kept handing us over to someone else, and moving us from place to place."

All of the POW(s) agreed that the last few days of captivity gave them hope. Their captors fed them better food and allowed them to take showers.

"I thank God that I have another chance to see my family again," added Young. "I can't describe my feelings, it's too emotional. There's no worse feeling than being held captive. Your mind thinks about many things."

Hours after their capture, Iraqi television displayed video images of the captured soldiers. Their families and fellow servicemembers were confident of their return, but all they had was hope.

Almost 30 days after being captured they are now returning to the families they thought they would never see again.

"Words cannot express my feelings," said Williams, one of the Apache pilots, and native of Fort Hood, Texas. "Tears ran down my face. You don't know how proud I am of those Marines."

Ron Young wanted to be a pilot since he was five years old, a decision from which he never wavered. His grandmother lived near the airport and he loved to watch the planes. A young man with a determined, focused personality, “he is good at everything he sets out to do, “ said his mother. “He is meticulous. I first noticed this when he was a little boy. At Christmas time, he would rebox up his presents, carefully take them upstairs and put them in his closet. He always told us, ‘I don’t like stuff,’ and we joked when we saw pictures of him in Kuwait with 18 guys in a little tent, that now he had to live with a lot of stuff.”

On the unit’s website, the Youngs noticed that Ron had clippers and was cutting everybody’s hair which Kaye enjoyed since she is a hair dresser.

Ron loves sports. He was an Eagle Scout. “He laughs all the time. He hugs everybody. When he puts his arms around you and hugs you, you think he’s going to break you in half,” said Kaye of her 6 foot 4 inch son.

Ron was a graduate of Douglas County High School in Douglasville, Georgia and then studied mechanical engineering at Southern Polytechnic State University in Marietta, Georgia. He joined the army to learn to fly and fulfill his lifelong passion.

Kelly said, “After 9/11, he thought he was going to Afghanistan. I asked him how he felt about that, and he said he was very proud to serve his country.” Afghanistan didn’t happen for Ron, but Iraq did.

This Sunday, March 30, Ron’s Lithia Springs Ward is going to be fasting for him and for all the soldiers in Iraq. Friends from wards in several states are joining, and in a showing of unity, several other churches in the Lithia Springs area are fasting as well. This has been a time of rallying with faith around an LDS boy and his companion David Williams held by Iraq.

“It’s always been my worst case scenario to have someone be a prisoner of war,” said Kaye, “but sometimes we have to face our worst fears. We are not alone in this, and I hope that Ron knows he is not alone. I hope he can feel the Spirit.”

A former prisoner of war in Iraq, Ronald Young, who also is a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, spoke at the Utah County Courthouse Thursday afternoon, July 3, before receiving a Freedom Festival award later that evening.

"I prayed about 12 hours on my knees the first day that I was in prison," Young said. "Really, just asking God to bring me peace."

Young was serving as a Chief Warrant Officer and an Apache helicopter pilot in the U.S. Army when he crashed during battle on March 24, about 50 miles southwest of Baghdad. What followed was a three-week adventure to both stay alive and get rescued.

"As soon as we got out of the aircraft, we were already being shot at from the tree line, so we immediately had to start running," Young said.

Young and his fellow pilot ran for over an hour and a half that night and swam through a canal in hopes of finding some place to hide.

"I just can't convey the feelings of desperation that we had that night, trying to get away from those guys," Young said. "I mean, I was just hanging on every thread of hope that I was going to make it."

Upon capture, Young and his colleague were beaten and threatened. They were moved from one prison to another and fed uncooked chicken. They slept on concrete floors and eventually ended up with five other POWs in a location near Saddam Hussein's hometown, Tikrit.

"We were being bombed every day - I mean, you (reporters) saw the whole shock and awe phase," Young said. "I was sitting in Baghdad listening to it."

Young described the first week as the most difficult. He said he tried not to think of his family or the war too much, but, instead, put most of his effort in prayer. He said did not ask to be rescued but wanted to make sure his life was devoted to God in case he lost it.

By the second week, Young decided to put his focus back on the war.

"When the bombs would get really loud and really intense, I would give a big whoo-hoo, to let them know they hadn't broken our will," Young said. "We were going to beat them, and that's all there was to it."

The Fourth Of July has changed for Young. He said he can now identify better with those who fought in the Revolutionary War, but he feels it took greater strength to fight back then because they did not know if they were not as certain of the war's outcome.

"That, for me, brings a deep respect for the guys that got us our independence and who ultimately fell for freedom," Young said. "I am deeply more patriotic now than I've ever been in my life."

Young was among five other individuals who were also honored at the awards gala of the Freedom Festival. Young said he was thankful for people everywhere who supported the troops, especially those in Utah. He has resumed active duty at Fort Hood, Texas.