Translator sees no need to fight a war of words

By William Cole
Advertiser Military Writer

Schofield Barracks Spc. Ramy Elmery, sitting cross-legged in a carpeted room in Iraq, leans in close next to Lt. Col. Scott Leith, translating the words of the Sunni Arabs seated across from them.

Spc. Ramy Elmery, left, translates for Lt. Col. Scott Leith, center, during a meeting with a top sheik of the Al Jaburi tribe in Iraq. Elmery and Keith are from Schofield's 1st Battalion, 27th Infantry. Richard Ambo • The Honolulu Advertiser

As does the sweat from his forehead.

These aren't just any Iraqis. The dozens of Arabs in attendance about 40 miles southwest of Kirkuk include an Army general; a colonel who was an intelligence officer; former high-ranking Baath Party officials — a rogue's gallery from Saddam Hussein's rule.

"We're talking to a bunch of murderers, security forces, intelligence officers, and they used to run prisons and interrogations," Elmery said later. "You would see their faces and they are criminals. They were running the show, and they were unstoppable."

At the February meeting, Leith, 40, had spoken in strong words, telling those present that the Baath Party was gone for good, Saddam was a coward, and cooperation with coalition forces was required for a secure Iraq.

"You saw pictures of Saddam in a hole like a rat," he said.

Elmery, 34, who was born and raised in Egypt and is fluent in Arabic, knew he had to choose his words carefully in translation.

"To pick the right words, that was basically the trick, and I'm glad not anybody else was translating this because they could have started a big fight," he said.

That's why he's so important to U.S. Army commanders like Leith. And why Elmery was sweating so.

Good Arabic translators are in short supply, and U.S. military-Iraqi relations in the country sometimes suffer for it.

The Titan Corp., headquartered in San Diego, employs about 4,200 people in Iraq under a 1999 contract to provide translation services to the Army, according to The Associated Press.

Schofield Barracks units in Iraq hire local residents whose translation — and allegiances — sometimes come into question.

Up to a dozen interpreters are assigned per company. Some are as young as 19.

One translator in Kirkuk, a Kurd active in the Patriotic Union of Kurdistan, one of two Kurdish political parties, liked to refer to Sunni Arabs as "the evil ones" and sometimes sought U.S. permission for his party to make arrests.

Elmery, by contrast, is a U.S. soldier first and foremost, and a translator second.

"He is a major asset to me at this point because communication is a major part of my job with local leaders," Leith said. "(But) there's another whole aspect to how he is an asset. I know where his loyalties are, whereas some (Iraqi) interpreters may have some local or tribal bonds."

The meeting that Leith had southwest of Kirkuk with former military and Baath Party officials was held at their request.

Tired of being hunted house to house, village to village, first by the 4th Infantry Division and then their replacements, the 1-27 Wolfhounds, the officials had told a local sheik they wanted to end their opposition.

In that discussion, Elmery found Leith's words in English to be "very good, very strict."

"But from the cultural point of view, because I know how these people think, I didn't want them to think we are twisting their arms (by saying) we are the biggest army in the world, we are the strongest and we are occupying your country, so you have no choice but to follow us," Elmery said. "No, they don't want to hear that from a cultural standpoint (and they'll say), 'If you want that, we're going to fight, fight, fight — you're not going to be running us.' "

One word that Elmery requested Leith not use was "enemy."

"Even if it's from the past, you don't use 'enemy' in Arabic," he said. "That means you should start fighting."

He explained: "In English, it's fine — we're making peace but you were my enemy in the past. (But in Arabic) that's not a good word to say. You can say we were fighting, we were disagreeing in the past, you didn't like us in the beginning. You can get around it."

Arabic custom dictated that the sheik who invited Leith and 1-27 soldiers out to the tomato- and watermelon-farming village of Helwe Wosta ensure their safety.

"If they invite you to their house to eat together, they guarantee your safety for sure," Elmery said. "They are not going to backstab you. That's their word."

An insult can test that hospitality, however, and some in the room walked out when Leith disparaged Saddam. But it's important for U.S. military commanders to show strength as well.

Leith said he is fortunate to have not only Elmery in his battalion, but also Syrian-born chaplain Abdullah Ahwed Hulweh, one of just a handful of Muslim chaplains in the Army.

"Between (Elmery) and my chaplain, I think I can get some nuances that would escape others," Leith said.

Elmery, a gregarious soldier and rapid-fire speaker who always has a supply of hard candy to toss to children on the roadside, grew up a minority Christian in a middle-class family in Muslim Egypt, studying English and going to college for business administration and accounting.

He lived in Los Angeles for 11 years, working first as a security guard and later as a taxi driver.

After the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, he joined the Army. "I needed to protect my country, my home, which is the United States," he said.

He went into the infantry. After getting to Kuwait with the 2nd Brigade Combat Team out of Schofield Barracks, he didn't have traditional infantry duties for long.

Battalion officers found out about his Arabic. First he worked with the "S2" intelligence officer, a captain.

Then Maj. Jeff Butler, the "S3" operations officer, came to see Elmery.

"Maj. Butler told me, 'You are with me,' " said Elmery, whose Japanese wife is here in Hawai'i with their 5-month-old son, Samuel.

In Iraq, Elmery recalled Leith telling him, "I went to that place and people were yelling and screaming and telling me things, and wanted to direct us to some place and I didn't understand what they are saying. I need Elmery with me in my vehicle."

The battalion recently returned a sheik to his home after he had been detained. About 300 people came out. Elmery provided the translation.

"He's very good at making people feel comfortable," Butler said in an e-mail.

Passing barefoot and long-robed boys playing soccer in a dirt field, Elmery yells a greeting in Arabic from Leith's armored Humvee.

They tell him they want the soldiers to field a team and come back to the village for a game.

"They don't see this, the U.S. Army," Elmery said, referring to his desert camouflage uniform. "They see the Middle Eastern, the Egyptian Elmery talking to them. I love it because I communicate with the people. I think I have a little gift that makes people like me and talk to me and give me information."

Reach William Cole at wcole@honoluluadvertiser.com or 525-5459.