Solider saw a heinous act and stepped forward despite risk

Vivi Watt's tone is that of any proud mother.

She speaks of her soldier-son with a solid regard for his enlistment in the Army, his idealism and her joy that he will be coming home to Tucson any day.

But Pfc. Justin Watt is not any soldier. Justin Watt has put his life on the line for strangers twice. He did it first as all soldiers do, by joining the Army to fight in Iraq.

The second time was by stepping forward as the whistleblower in the case of the U.S. soldiers charged with raping and murdering a 14-year-old Iraqi girl, and slaughtering her parents. A 5-year-old sister was also shot dead.

Fourteen and 5 years old. The ages are equivalent to a middle-school student and a child in preschool.

It is not surprising that this soldier chose the word "heinous" when he first hinted to his separated parents what he knew about the rape and murders. First, he called his father in South Carolina. He asked his father what he would do if a fellow soldier had done something wrong. Depends on how wrong, his father replied.

"Heinous," the soldier-son answered.

The 23-year-old private didn't want to tell his mother at all. He didn't want to worry her.

"He worried about how we would perceive him," his mother said.

This is where an inkling of what Pfc. Watt has been enduring is revealed. He knew that snitches are not viewed kindly in the military. So he arranged to leak the information about the rape and murders in a counseling session.

This is like Justin, the boy who earned a GED early so he could become a teenage computer gamer in Los Angeles — strategic, focused; that's Justin.

The strategy meant he could surpass the higher-ups who later not only questioned his recounting of the crimes. Some questioned Watt's loyalty for bringing the case forward, according to his father.

Then there was the matter of friendly fire.

"He was alone there, alone. We didn't know who was going to protect him, who his friends were," his mother said.

Justin's father led the charge, peppering military officials and U.S. Sen. Jon Kyl of Arizona with requests through e-mails and letters. Kyl's office sent letters to the Army, trying to gain the family assurance that their son would be safe.

The military should have learned this lesson with Joseph Darby.

Darby is the soldier who told higher-ups about the Abu Ghraib photos. Iraqi men piled naked into a pyramid, posed into sexual stances with each other and the haunting image of the hooded man standing atop a box, wires attached as if to electrocute.

No longer under a military gag order, Darby has recently spoken out, telling interviewers that he slept with a loaded gun under his pillow after disclosing what he knew. When Darby returned home to Maryland he was ostracized and forced to move. Townspeople and even members of his own family regarded him with disdain, as if he was to blame for the shame of Abu Ghraib.

Vivi Watt hears about Darby and her voice momentarily shudders.

They say war is hell. They say war makes men out of boys. But sometimes it is the boys who do the shaping.

This son has reassured his mother that he will be fine, that she will see him soon.

"I'm usually the worried one, but I felt OK after talking with him," she said. "I trust my kid."

The Army could learn something from how this mother trusts her soldier-child.

Mary Sanchez is an opinion-page columnist for The Kansas City Star. Reach her at msanchez@kcstar.com.