November 11-17, 2004

city beat

Battle Scars

front line: After returning home from a tour in Iraq, Mike Hoffman says his dreams were filled with images of a war he never fully supported. Photo By: Michael T. Regan

A fledgling anti-war outfit sets up shop in Philly.

by Mike Newall

He wanted the nightmares to stop. So, as a gray sky threatened rain last Veteran's Day, Mike Hoffman tearfully shared his experience in Iraq at an anti-war rally in Dilworth Plaza.

"I fought out of duty, for my fellow Marines and nothing else," he said to the hushed crowd of more than 100 people. "I told myself, I'd deal with the consequences later."

Hoffman, the 25-year-old son of a steel worker, was part of the first wave of soldiers returning from the front lines of Iraq, and he was haunted by what he did there.

He was a lance corporal assigned to Romeo Battery—an artillery outfit for the 10th Marines. It was his battery's mission to provide "down-range" artillery cover for coalition forces advancing on Baghdad in the early days of the campaign. The call of "fire mission" would come over the radio, coordinates would follow, and the popcorn sound of six 155 mm Howitzer guns would fire into the desert horizon, hammering away at some unseen position, killing faceless enemies.

The soldiers were never given target descriptions. The officers didn't want them thinking about who they were killing. But since returning home to Macungie, Pa., Hoffman could not stop thinking about it. Television footage of destroyed Iraqi villages and maimed civilians kept him awake at night. "Could this be something Romeo launched?" he'd wonder. "Am I responsible for this?" When he did sleep, the nightmares came. His mind would replay images of bombed-out Iraqi troop transports, and he'd once again smell the stench of burning flesh and hair.

He'd been against the war from the start. It was an unjustifiable, unneeded war fought for oil rather than freedom, but as they say in the United States Marine Corps: U Signed the Motherfuckin' Contract.

After the rally, a Vietnam veteran associated with Veterans for Peace urged Hoffman to keep speaking publicly. "There will be a lot more soldiers coming home feeling the same way you do."

It wasn't as if Hoffman needed much prodding.

He listened, and although his messy red hair, goatee and sideburns make him seem more suited for a punk-rock outfit, he has since become the face of a burgeoning anti-war movement among soldiers returning home from—and still fighting in—Iraq.

Hoffman spent Monday at the American Friends Service Committee in Center City setting up an office for Iraq Veterans Against the War. He announced the group's formation at a Veterans for Peace meeting in Boston last July.

"There are so many soldiers who feel this is an unjust war," he says. "They just needed a place to voice their opinions."

IVAW now claims 80 active members, 12 of whom are still fighting in Iraq. The mission is simple: Bring the troops home now.

"They join for different reasons," says Hoffman. "Some because they weren't told the truth about the war, some because they see what's being done to the Iraqi people, and some because they watched their friends die in front of them."

Being one of few Iraq veterans speaking out against the war, Hoffman has become a celebrity of sorts. He averages three to four unpaid speaking engagements a week, has become buddies with Michael Moore, and has been profiled in Mother Jones and interviewed by GQ for their "Men of the Year" issue. Hoffman says veterans for Kerry were "beating down his door," but he refused to speak on their behalf since Kerry wasn't promising immediate withdrawl.

Still, everybody isn't a fan.

"I get a decent amount of hate mail," says Hoffman. One soldier recently e-mailed him saying, "You want to talk to somebody? I got a .45 who'd love to meet you.'"

Joe Davis, a spokesperson for the Veterans of Foreign Wars organization, says that although the IVAW has every right to protest, he worries their actions could be perceived by the troops in the field "as a lessening of support."

"Morale," says Davis, a veteran of the first Gulf War and Somalia, "means everything in the field."

Hoffman rejects that notion, arguing that returning vets have told him a majority of active soldiers agree the mission is not worth the cost.

Others have called Hoffman opportunistic and compared his actions to John Kerry's anti-war activities during the Vietnam War.

"I'm putting off college for this," says Hoffman. "If anything, what I'm doing is hurting me."

Hoffman, who says he no longer suffers from the nightmares, expects more soldiers will seek out the IVAW as the war in Iraq continues intensifying. The recent election has only made the IVAW more determined, he adds.

"This war is going nowhere," says Hoffman. "And neither are we."