From June of 1951 to December of 1952, she served in the Marine Corps during the Korean War. When asked what her most significant memory was during her service, she replied, “Dress whites.” Cogswell had to sew her own dress uniform.
During the Battle of Baqubah Reunion last month, Stacy Pearsall reunited with Mazin Mozan. Ten years ago, Mozan was an Iraqi civilian, and one of the many translators Pearsall worked with during her service. Mozan was gracious to share his story with us.
Mozan takes us back to his youth. He described his family as hard working and encouraging, despite hard times. He explains, “I was born on 31 July 1982 in an average Iraqi family that believed in education and professional careers more than anything else. My parents are teachers who always kept us focused on our education and our goals to become successful citizens in the future. My father struggled to provide for us despite being a teacher, because he was known for disagreeing with Saddam Hussein’s ideology and the way his regime controlled the nation. Therefor they never let my father hold a decent job.”
During Mozan’s teen years, he worked many grueling, hard labor jobs such as assembly line and construction work to help his family. This wasn’t the only thing he was doing while providing extra money.
“I worked during my five years of Veterinary school and paid for my college as well as my sister’s school,” Mozan said. “She studied Biology.”
He was already fluent in English and Arabic by this time. And the days leading to the 2003 Iraq War, the Iraqis were nervous. “[We] didn’t know what will be our next chapter, couldn’t anticipate what a dictator like Saddam could do, neither could we trust the American promise,” Mozan said. “Iraqis hesitated to trust the Americans because of what happened during Desert Storm in the 1990’s. At that time, the U.S. military marched into Iraq to defend Kuwait – only coming half way to Baghdad when the campaign was halted. The Iraqis who’d stood against Saddam were abandoned and promptly executed by Saddam.”
Mozan continues, “After the dust settled and the dream came somewhat true watching Saddam’s regime fall apart it was an overwhelming mix of happiness, nervousness and anxiety amid the chaos. Late 2004, I watched how the very troops who came to change our lives for better were being attacked by foreigners coming across the border to defend radical ideology.”
Mozan could not remain a bystander, thus allowing others to decide his peoples’ future. With his grade school knowledge of the English language, plus five years of English in college, he decided to help the American troops. “I worked as a part time interpreter while completing my senior year in college. Upon graduating, I focused completely on being a linguist,” Mozan recalls, “Financially the job offered little money compared to the risk I was putting myself and family in, however it gave me satisfaction that I was making difference. I was standing up to people doing harm to innocent citizens on both sides, Iraqis and Americans.”
The trials Mozan faced in combat from 2006 to 2007 were the most difficult. He worked with an elite unit in Baqubah, and they were involved in nearly-daily firefights with enemy forces. “Unfortunately [we] lost many brothers in arms. During those years between when I started in 2004 to 2007, my family was under constant threat and extreme risk by insurgents. The enemy knew the value of the interpreters to the Coalition Force’s mission. Without linguists the troops’ mission was significantly impacted. I was not only dealing with the risk I was facing every day, but most importantly my family, who had no protection. They faced radicals who would threaten them with harm in hopes of persuading me to quit the job. It became impossible for me to go home a visit my family. I was forced to stay on base with the troops because, every time I traveled on my own, the insurgents attempted to kill me.”
There were many horrors going on in Mozan’s life. His U.S. teammates convinced him to apply for a special immigrant Visa program. Established by President Bush, the special program allowed Iraqi linguists who supported troops during the war move to America. This was perfect for Mozan, but it involved fleeing the country. “I had no hope the Visa approval would ever happen,” he said.
It took five long months waiting in Egypt to get the news from the U.S. Embassy in Cairo that he was approved for travel. “After spending everything I had while awaiting the Visa, I had little to no money. I called the only people I could rely on – my brothers that I went through combat with. I called Lieutenant Colonel Damon Holditch, who didn’t hesitate to send me money to help purchase my airfare to the United States.”
On September 17th, 2007, he arrived in Huntsville, Alabama, where Colonel Jim Bowie, Mozan’s former commander in Iraq, and Colonel Dustin Awtrey, Bowie’s deputy in Iraq, welcomed him with open arms. “They took me in into their homes and treated me like their own son,” he says. He started from square one with nothing in his pockets, and he waited anxiously to receive his green card and social security card so he could begin working. Being in America was an immense culture shock, and he had to adjust to his chosen new society. He eventually was offered a job as an Arabic linguist and deployed to Iraq once again. There was one difference though, “My salary was nowhere near the $600 a month I received when I was a local national linguist.”
Afterwards he went to Camp Pendelton, California, where he completed three months of processing and another three months of training. From there, he deployed to Iraq. After a year-and-a-half, he resigned his position and returned to the United States.
I had excellent income, reflects Mozan. An in many a friend’s eye, I’d earned the title “soldier” in all but name. However, I felt compelled to become a soldier in reality.
Mozan enlisted in the U.S. Army shortly after returning from Iraq in 2009. During this time, he met the woman that he knew would be his biggest support in his journey. Mozan explains, “Sarah, who is the mother of my two beautiful children, and I met through mutual friends at Redstone Arsenal Army Base where she worked at the PX. We got Married 2 months before I departed for basic training. My first duty station was Hawaii where I served as a logistician and worked my way up the promotion ladder to attain the rank of Sergeant. Both my children were born there, my daughter, Mariam, was born on 09/19/2011, and my son, Youssif, was born on 10/02/2013.”
After serving 4 years of active duty, Mozan transitioned into the U.S. Army Reserves, where he trained to become a cardiovascular technologist. He currently works at the Brook Army Medical Center in San Antonio, Texas, as a contractor. Mozan is considering applying to the U.S. Army Physician Assistant Program next year and becoming a commissioned officer.
“I try to speak about my story,” explains Mozan. “I want to share how the war in Iraq presented very opportunity I got. I believe it’s my duty as a soldier to educate people and tell the truth. The friends I made from 2005-2007, where I saw most of the combat, are my family. We stay in touch. The hardships we survived made us stronger than blood brothers. Many people ask me how I faced all the stress and overcame the risk. My answer is, ‘I believed in the job I was doing and I trusted my fellow soldiers would keep me alive.'”
Ron Pearsall is the Veterans Portrait Project founder’s uncle. Pearsall is a Marine Corps veteran who was a mortarman and draftsman during the Vietnam War era.
Ron Pearsall suffers from post traumatic stress disorder. He is partially disabled, and is currently unemployed. Part of his PTSD therapy is renovating an older model of a sixteen foot travel trailer. We are asking for help to support a fellow veteran, ultimately giving him a place of his own to call home.
To support Ron Pearsall, click here to view his GoFundMe page and donate. We at the Veterans Portrait Project appreciate any support you can provide, even if it is as simple as sharing his GoFundMe page.
In 2014, we met Megan Halagan in Killeen, Texas. She was a U.S. Army veteran who served as a specialist from November of 2009 to May of 2014.
Earlier this month, we were informed she had passed away. She had been battling cancer for four years. Halagan is survived by her husband, Harry, and is the mother of three children (ages three years old to thirteen years old): Sage, Jeremiah, and Aliyah.
Halagan was laid to rest at the Central Texas State Veterans Cemetery with military honors.
We at the Veterans Portrait Project are grateful we got to meet and photograph Halagan. We send our dearest condolences to her family during this time.
In the Fall of 2015, the Veterans Portrait Project photographed in Luverne, Minnesota. Right now, you can find public art displaying the veterans photographed from when we visited!
You can find the photographs showcased in flag park corner near the intersection of Highway 75 and Main Street. These veterans displayed are local to Minnesota, and we are very honored to share these amazing heroes’ faces for all to see.
With the help of Holly Sammons and Diane Lynn Sherwood, this was possible, and we send them our gratitude and thanks.
Elizabeth B. Johnson is proof how greatness and big things can come in small packages. We had the honor to meet and photograph her earlier this month in Hickory, North Carolina. She was an Army veteran serving in the Six-Triple Eight Central Postal Battalion, an all African-American-Woman unit serving overseas during WWII, as a truck driver and postal clerk.
“My career with the Army started on March 11, 1943. After joining I was sent to Fort Devens, Massachusetts, for basic training for approximately eight weeks. From there I was sent to Camp Campbell, Kentucky, which is now called Fort Campbell. I was stationed there for approximately 16 months.” Johnson explains.
“From Fort Campbell, I was sent to Fort Oglethorpe in Georgia for basic overseas training. After leaving Fort Oglethorpe, I was sent to New York where we were going to be shipped overseas. During our travels to Birmingham, England, the captain of the ship noticed a submarine in the waters ahead of us, we were told we had to sleep in our clothes that night. Consequently, the ship turned around and headed back to New York.”
Later, Johnson’s captain had the okay that things were clear and they continued to England. “While in England I drove a truck transporting goods to different locations. Sometimes I would even transport soldiers to different locations as well. I served in England for approximately eight months, and was then shipped to Rouen, France.”
While Johnson was in Rouen, she worked in a makeshift post office building. That was where she and the others in the Six-Triple Eight Central Postal Battalion separated mail that “had been stacked to the ceiling”. Johnson recalls, “We worked tirelessly trying to separate all the mail and get it to the troops. Mail was one thing the troops looked forward to getting each week, and we worked to make sure they received their mail.” Johnson and almost 800 other women of the unit sorted mail for over seven million people in the European Theater of Operations. She worked at the makeshift post office for around eight months, and then the war ended. “We had a choice to stay there or come back to the United States,” Johnson said, “Since I had lost my father during this time and found out that my mother was sick, I decided to come home and be with her.” In November of 1945, she sailed back to the United States on the Queen Mary.
When asked what was the most memorable or most significant during her service, she said, “While serving in Rouen, France, I remember bombs dropping and shaking the building we were working in.”
Special thanks goes to Johnson’s daughter, Cynthia, for providing the great personal photographs.
How many of us can imagine reaching seventy-five years old? What about one hundred? Joseph Otho Goble has passed both at one hundred and one years old! Goble was a Marine veteran serving in WWII as a platoon sergeant, and was awarded the Silver Star for combat actions on Guadalcanal.
Goble’s journey of enlisting was not easy. The year was 1940. At twenty-seven years of age, he was working in Washington, D.C., and knew he was going to be drafted soon. Therefore, he went to his home state of North Carolina to join the military. “I went to Charlotte to join the Marines,” Goble recalls, “They (the recruiters) said, ‘We’re sorry, we allow six Marines here, six Marines in Nashville, six Marines in Winston-Salem, and six Marines in Raleigh, that’s all.’ ” The Charlotte recruiting office was full, and so was the Nashville’s. “They called Winston-Salem, and that office said, ‘Come over real quick, we have one opening’. I then had to take the car back to my dad’s, get on the bus, and by the time I got to Winston, they had already filled it.” He remembers it was almost closing time at the Winston-Salem recruiting office, and the recruiter said he would call Raleigh. There were two openings left. “For God’s sake, put Goble down,” the recruiter exclaimed. At eight o’clock the next morning, he enlisted in his requested branch of service.
When Stacy Pearsall asked if he would talk about the events surrounding his Silver Star, he gave us all a laugh. “You want to know about it now??” Goble genuinely asks. “Yes sir, please,” Pearsall says with a smile. “Well it’s sort of a long story.” “I’ve got time for you.” Stacy says.
“We were in battle across the Guadalcanal (Tenaru) River behind the Japanese where another battalion was on the other side of the river where they were holding the Japanese off over there, and we went behind the Japanese,” he explains. “We were told to push right into the Japs from that side, so I was to take my opportunity to the right and the rest of the battalion to the left. So, there was only about twenty-six of us. I lost two men going over the valley.”
“I was placing my men twenty-five steps apart because we didn’t have enough to cover,” he continues. “Machine guns started to fire from the jungles, so I got one of my men who had rifle grenades and went where we could look over the jungles’ ridge to see where the machine guns were coming from. We fired several rifle grenades, and I could watch them go up and back down again. That’s when we didn’t hear anymore machine guns, and I went back to check on my men. One of them yelled, ‘Russ is hit, Russ is hit! (WR Russ)’ [unfortunately, Russ passed away before returning home]. I went up to Russ, and I thought he was hit in the stomach. We started to drag him back, and I probably got from here to that wall over there (approximately ten to fifteen feet) when I got hit.”
“I was trying to figure out whose foot I was laying on,” remembers Goble. “The corpsman got up to me and I said, ‘Whose foot am I laying on?’. He says, ‘That’s your foot.’ This foot (his left) was all the way back up here (points to the back of his head), and he dressed my leg and straightened it out with splints and gave a couple shots in the arm. Before I went to sleep, I could look out over the ocean and I said, ‘Whose ships are those out there? I’m counting 13 ships: two large ships and the rest destroyers.’ Someone said, ‘There’s no ships out there.’ I said, ‘There are!’ When I woke up, they had all the wounded from the battalion and put me on a boat to the hospital. That’s what I remember ….. Sure enough that night, thirteen ships came in, and it was one of the biggest ship battles they had. Can you figure that out?”
Goble has one friend left from his unit who lives in Georgia now. He calls him about once a month. After the service, he was told to get a job sitting down or else he would be standing with a cane.He ended up becoming a jeweler for many years. He was also told he would have his leg removed before his 50th birthday. Obviously, that person was incorrect. He was an avid hiker until the age of ninety-five. Even being over one hundred years old, he still works out on cardio machines and is a prime example of, “What’s your excuse?”.
Special thanks goes to those who made it possible in meeting and having the honor to photograph Goble.
“Some people spend an entire lifetime wondering if they made a difference in the world. But, the Marines don’t have that problem.” ― Ronald Reagan