A History Never Written

*

The ocean was inky black, the black beyond dark matter and petroleum spills, when the only light was the faintest sliver of a moon in a starless sky; and everything was absence. This was the dream that kept recurring and he didn't know why. Black on black, uncanny, beautiful of course, in all its mystery and power, the vast sea, a distant shore, a profound lack. The chaos of the Bangkok streets, the busy stalls, the choking traffic, the crowds of office workers so heavy he had to step out on the road to pass their slow moving masses. That was the world he mostly inhabited. Yet it wasn't the world he really wanted. He wanted a different place, as if the beauty of the present was too much to bear without distorting and simplifying it with science fiction clichés. So instead there were times when he cycled back through former mistakes; and other times when the present situation seemed too perfect to bear. It was just that he wasn't used to things going well. Rather it had become a custom to stumble from crisis to crisis, to regroup just enough to survive and then to move on to the next appalling deconstruction, the next painful embarrassment, the next success which didn't feel like a success because inside he was so deeply hidden from the truth, so carefully tucked away, that nothing real would ever impose itself.

Inebriated forms, withered away from lack of contact with the light, went scurrying away under the stairs when ever a carpet was lifted, when ever an attempt was made to change the debate. And so he couldn't be fair to anyone. He couldn't mask the futile attempts at failure. All he could do was step forth in tatty clothes and swirling cloaks, in medieval garments and the garb of senior servants of His Majesty's court; but in the end it was the villager's humble clothes he wore most securely, which made most sense to him. Do not step out into the light. Do not step out into the day. Take away everything we stood for. Counsel the wicked that they shall be reborn. Put a petting hand on the children's heads; for comfort. If there was such a thing in this bewildering place. Certainly not for him, that time had passed, but perhaps for others; blessed with ignorance and a simple, gullible face, a perfect, natural joy in the day. Oh how he envied them their natural positivity, their easy good looks, their perfect charm. Gawky, every faint was an alarming fraud, based in little but assumption and pretence. Every pose stood as a natural way to die; fleeting, unimpressive. Money cushions every blow. Do you think they would care who I was, if I couldn't pay my way? he asked. The boy, a cast back to a former age, barely understood the flow of English, but nodded eagerly, hoping to sympathise.

So here he was, for no particular reason that he could understand, perfectly at home in the most charlatan of cities, the most treacherous of places. Where if as a foreigner you weren't being ripped off it was a miracle. This city, as one Thai author noted, once known as the Venice of the East and now clogged with stagnant, smelly canals and covered with a scion of highways and whispering places, traffic jams that made venturing anywhere during the day a major assignment, ribbons of roads soaring passed buildings long abandoned or resumed, home to nothing but ghosts and rats and the memory of children who played there long ago, the couples who were once happy together, or bore each other's company with a timeless malignancy. Something human this way came, but was then lost in the hordes that had overtaken the earlier, more romantic years. We were clogging up our past. We were searching for a future. But perhaps it was those empty shells of buildings next to the free ways that most clearly exemplified the Bangkok of his imagination; full of an evocative sense of something that had already passed, of the mystery of lives carried out in crowded places, of a simplicity and magnitude which could never be summoned because it had already passed, lithe forms, the sunny smile of a pretty girl, the companionship of the men sharing the moment, of a history never written. He admired their crumbling forms in the cool of the pink air conditioned taxis of the present, a master of the universe, able to afford a taxi fare in one of the world's most quixotic cities, their masterful decay a perfect rejoinder to the soaring blocks of modern condominiums in the middle distance; and the skyscrapers spiking the horizon.

THE BIGGER STORY:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/05/world/asia/05gibbs.html

BILLINGS, Mont. — Staff Sgt. Calvin Gibbs called to say he did not kill Afghan civilians for the thrill of killing. Nor did he toss severed fingers at the feet of his fellow soldiers to scare them into silence.

“All he said was, ‘I don’t know where these guys are getting this stuff,’ ” said Eric Thomas, a childhood friend here, shortly after speaking with Sergeant Gibbs by telephone one recent evening. “He said none of it actually happened. He said for some reason the other guys were scared. He doesn’t know where it comes from.”

“Calvin Gibbs is not a murderer,” Mr. Thomas said. “I don’t want people hearing about finger bones and thinking they know Calvin, because they don’t.”

Members of his unit in Afghanistan paint a devastating picture of Sergeant Gibbs, 26. He is one of five soldiers facing potential courts-martial on charges that they killed Afghan civilians for sport, planting weapons near them to fake combat situations, collecting their body parts and taking photographs posing with their corpses.

Documents in the case obtained by The New York Times, including statements by soldiers and investigators, portray Sergeant Gibbs as the ringleader in three separate incidents involving the murder of civilians near Kandahar, Afghanistan, this year, and as the force behind intimidating other soldiers in his unit to keep quiet. Soldiers said Sergeant Gibbs threatened at least one subordinate with death if he ever disclosed the killings. Other soldiers not accused in the deaths say he mocked them for not meeting his standard for men on patrol.

“He told me the type of soldier he was looking for was the type that could kill anybody without any kind of regret,” Pfc. Ashton Moore told an Army investigator in May.

When Private Moore, who faces other charges, told Sergeant Gibbs that he would not kill someone without cause, he said the sergeant responded: “And that’s why you’ll be stuck in the truck the whole time. The guy I’m looking for is the guy that would shoot the dude just because he could shoot the dude.”

The case has prompted the military to review all combat deaths with which Sergeant Gibbs has been involved, including those during deployments to Iraq as early as 2004.

Specialist Jeremy N. Morlock, also accused in the Afghanistan deaths, said Sergeant Gibbs had openly discussed how he might kill Specialist Adam C. Winfield, another one of the accused, who he worried would report the killings.

“There were two scenarios SSG Gibbs told me about taking his life,” Specialist Morlock told Army investigators as part of the investigation into the five soldiers. “The first scenario was going to take him to the gym and drop a weight on his neck. The second scenario was SSG Gibbs was going to take him to the motor pool and drop a tow bar on him.”

Geoffrey Nathan, a lawyer for Specialist Morlock, criticized the Army for allowing Sergeant Gibbs to lead troops in combat. He said his client “could serve the rest of his life in prison for being in the throes of Gibbs.”

Several soldiers recalled Sergeant Gibbs and Specialist Morlock tossing severed fingers in front of a soldier who had reported the widespread use of hashish within the unit. That soldier, Pfc. Justin A. Stoner, later told investigators that he feared being killed the same way Afghan civilians had been, as if his death had happened in combat.

“It wouldn’t be hard for them to take me out and do the same to me and blame it on the Taliban,” Private Stoner told investigators.

Here in Billings, Sergeant Gibbs’s friends say he was just performing his duty. “How could they put him in jail for doing his job over there?” Mr. Thomas asked. “I’m sure some people were shooting at him, so he shot back at them.”

Not long before he was deployed to war zones overseas, Sergeant Gibbs was a struggling teenager in Billings. “No ambition,” said a neighbor. His father worked in maintenance for the Mormon church and his family was active in the faith. He barely attended high school, earning just 1 of 20 credits necessary to graduate. In his high school yearbook during his sophomore year, he wore a T-shirt bearing the brand of a skateboarding company, “Independent.”

Sergeant Gibbs played defensive end on the football team as a high school freshman. At 6-foot-4 and 220 pounds, he was “the strongest kid I ever played against,” Mr. Thomas said. The friends played video games and rode skateboards, often spending time at the Gibbses’ house because friends said his parents were nice. Friends say all he ever wanted to be was a soldier.

His parents sent him away to an alternative school in Montana that often steered its students into the military. Sergeant Gibbs received a graduate equivalency degree from the program in the fall of 2002, having already enlisted in the military. He had dreamed of being in the Marines but, without a high school diploma, entered the Army instead.

A lawyer for Sergeant Gibbs declined to comment, as did Sergeant Gibbs’s parents. A sister began to cry when she was asked about him and said her brother had requested that she not speak to reporters. Friends said they did not believe the charges.

“People get messed up in the head,” during combat missions, said Paul Thomas, Eric Thomas’s older brother. “But not Calvin. He was always a rock.”

Paul Thomas is a former Marine. He said he had not seen Sergeant Gibbs since 2006. Since then, Sergeant Gibbs has served two tours in Afghanistan after serving one earlier in Iraq. Now, more than one soldier who served with him described him or his actions as “savage.”

Private Stoner said Sergeant Gibbs “associates with skinheads online.” Specialist Morlock said Sergeant Gibbs had “pure hatred” for all Afghans. Fingers he is accused of collecting are now part of the evidence in the case, as is a tooth he is said to have pulled from a dead Afghan and bones other soldiers said he dug up.

Sergeant Gibbs has refused to speak to military investigators. But during fingerprinting and photographing in May, he was required to show his tattoos. On his lower left leg was an image of crossed pistols and six skulls. He told an investigator, according to an investigation transcript, that the skulls were “his way of keeping count of the kills he had. The skulls that were in red were the ones from Iraq and the other three were the kills he had in Afghanistan.”

Soldiers interviewed by investigators say Sergeant Gibbs had alluded to previous crimes he committed in Iraq, including one in which he shot into a car carrying an Iraqi family with children. By early this spring, as Sergeant Gibbs and others were being investigated, military investigators were widening their inquiry, specifically asking about a possible shooting in Iraq in early 2004.

“How many deployments has SSG Gibbs had?” investigators asked. “Need to determine if there was any suspicious incidents or investigations during all deployments.”

At least one soldier has said Sergeant Gibbs had photographs of bodies from his deployment to Iraq. A spokesman for the Army’s central Criminal Investigations Division in Virginia said he could not discuss whether Sergeant Gibbs had faced previous criminal investigations or charges.

Before Sergeant Gibbs invoked his right to a lawyer during an interview with investigators in May, investigators say he told them that “all incidents where he has been involved in are exactly how they are reported, meaning he was attacked and he then responded with his M-4, killing the local national. When questioned on whether any of the incidents were staged, SSG Gibbs stated that was offensive.”

Pfc. Adam W. Kelly, who is accused of assaulting Private Stoner along with several other soldiers, as well as possessing hashish, told investigators that he admired Sergeant Gibbs, as did others in their platoon, from senior officers to subordinates, and that he “displayed solid tactics.”

“I believe that because of his experience that more people came back alive and uninjured than would have without him having been part of the platoon,” Private Kelly said.

Sgt. Gibbs is married to a soldier based in the United States, Pfc. Chelsy M. Gibbs. They were married in a Mormon church in Billings. In 2008 they had a son, Calvin Richard Gibbs Jr. On her MySpace page, Private Gibbs listed her husband as one of her heroes, “for putting up with me, but mostly for the sacrifices he makes for our country.”

Barbara Gray contributed research and Richard A. Oppel Jr. contributed reporting from Port Aransas, Tex.

Bangkok, Thailand.