A Cigarette, A War-Zone Fight, Now a Murder Trial

After Marine Lance Cpl. Delano Holmes spent four months as a machine gunner in Iraq, his war came down to a closet-size sentry post above a busy street in downtown Fallujah. Post One Alpha, a guard tower in the heart of a city that has seen some of the heaviest combat between Marines and insurgents, was a known sniper target. Holmes was assigned to stand guard there with an Iraqi soldier he'd never met. Before the end of that night last December, the young Marine from Indianapolis says he found himself in a life-or-death struggle with the Iraqi soldier. The struggle ended with the Iraqi soldier stabbed to death and Holmes facing court-martial. Holmes said he worried the Iraqi's seemingly careless behavior -- smoking, using a cell phone -- on a dangerous post was putting him at risk. Military investigators came to a different conclusion, and Holmes was charged with unpremeditated murder and making a false statement. His trial, scheduled to begin Monday, is expected to take two weeks. The 22-year-old Holmes, who says he joined the Marines to help people, could be sentenced to life in prison if he's found guilty. Marine officials at Camp Pendleton, Calif., where Holmes has been held since February, say this is the only case in which a U.S. serviceman has been charged with killing an Iraqi soldier. His case raises not only legal questions about what constitutes murder in a war zone, but moral and ethical ones for Holmes -- and the Marine Corps. Holmes' family and supporters question how this one killing in the middle of a war could be singled out. But officials at Camp Pendleton say they take the responsibility of investigating such deaths, whether civilian or soldier, seriously. "It is our responsibility to investigate, charge if appropriate and then to allow the military justice system to determine whether the Marine is guilty and, if guilty, to hold that individual accountable," said Lt. Col. Chris Hughes, a spokesman for the 1st Marine Expeditionary Force at Camp Pendleton. "We have demonstrated the ability to look at it all, what happened, what were the rules, what led this Marine to act this way and then make a determination," Hughes said. The intent is fairness, Hughes said, to the soldier's family in Iraq and to the Marine's family in Indianapolis. No communication Snipers had fired on the sentry post a day or two before Holmes' watch, critically wounding a Marine. Investigators later testified at a pretrial hearing that they did only a cursory inspection of the scene after the stabbing because they also feared drawing sniper fire, said Stephen Cook, one of the attorneys representing Holmes. Holmes maintains the Iraqi soldier opened his cell phone and then lit a cigarette despite Holmes' objections. The soldiers shared no common language. When the man laughed at Holmes' signals to put the cigarette out, Holmes knocked it out of his hand. The soldier then began wrestling with Holmes, and when the Marine thought the man was reaching for his weapon in the pitch black, Holmes said, he pulled out his bayonet and stabbed the soldier until he quit fighting back. "All of Delano's experiences in the war up to that point contributed to his determination of the degree of force necessary," Cook said. That included seeing a buddy shot and killed shortly after arriving in Fallujah, as well as Holmes' state of mind. After four months of combat, he had been prescribed medications because he couldn't sleep. Cook acknowledged the number of wounds the Iraqi soldier suffered and inconsistent statements Holmes made to investigators will be key issues at the court-martial. The autopsy showed the man suffered 40 sharp-force injuries. But Cook said the defense team will strongly dispute that all the wounds were caused by Holmes. According to the medical examiner and autopsy report, a number of the wounds are inconsistent with the knife Holmes used, Cook said. After the stabbing, Cook said, Iraqi troops had possession of the body for an hour before it was returned to the Americans. "I think the number of wounds probably raised eyebrows, which in my mind is surprising given they are in a combat zone and they are Marines," Cook said. "They are trained to kill, and they are trained not to stop until the threat is removed." Disheartening and surreal Holmes has been waiting for the issue to be resolved, according to his former foster mother, Jenni Crowley, who met Holmes when she was the assistant coach of the speech team at Ben Davis High School. During Holmes' senior year, Crowley became his foster mother. "As we pass different steps in the process and things don't turn around as he thought they would, it's pretty disheartening," Crowley said. "It's begun to feel even more surreal, as though this is not something you are going to wake up from." Holmes' path to the Marines was not all that different from that of other young men. He considered the Marines the toughest of the military branches and thought he could benefit from the structure and training. Holmes grew up in Camden, N.J., but eventually moved to Indianapolis with his father at the start of his junior year at Ben Davis. Standing 6 feet 2 inches tall, Holmes, or "Del" as his family and friends call him, stood out not only because of his height but his personality. "He had warmth about him," Crowley said. Holmes was a part of her speech team and also on the school's track team. "A lot of kids were drawn to him," said Crowley, who is now director of youth ministries at Orchard Park Presbyterian Church at 106th Street and Westfield Boulevard in Carmel, where Holmes also volunteered. Holmes enrolled at Indiana University-Purdue University Indianapolis in 2003 and was studying political science and communications. He joined the Marine Reserve in 2004. Faculty and students liked Holmes, said Ronald Sandwina, an assistant professor in the communications department. "He reached out to folks; he was eager to help people," Sandwina said. "That sense of serving others, including his country, was very strong with him." Need for machine gunners Ryan Lauth, who was on the speech team at IUPUI with Holmes, once told Holmes that he was too smart to be a machine gunner. Holmes wouldn't hear of it. "They need smart machine gunners, too," he replied. After learning that a Michigan-based unit heading to Iraq was in need of machine gunners, Holmes volunteered to join Charlie Company, 1st Battalion, 24th Marine Regiment, a reserve unit based in Lansing. The same regiment landed on Saipan and Iwo Jima during World War II. After arriving in Iraq, Holmes' unit served as a quick reaction force, Crowley said, meaning it was always on the go. As a machine gunner, Holmes was responsible for unleashing devastating firepower on the enemy and would be likely to draw a torrent of return fire in heavy fighting. Statements from Holmes' officers and fellow enlisted men show the Marine was highly respected, his lawyer Cook has said. "He was consistently placed in a lead gun truck as the lead turret gunner because they trusted and valued his judgment." To his family, there were sporadic calls and e-mails but few clues about his well-being. When a family member apologized for going on and on about unimportant events at home in an e-mail, he replied that he enjoyed the news. "This is what makes me feel human," he wrote. Hard to forge trust One person who can appreciate what Holmes had seen in Iraq is Indiana National Guard Cpl. Darryll Morehead, 33, Connersville. Morehead went to Iraq with Company A, 2nd Battalion, 152nd Infantry, which was assigned to train Iraqi policemen. "You have to take care of yourself and the guys around you," Morehead said. "In that Marine's defense, we could not trust the police we worked with." In fact, another Indiana soldier from Morehead's battalion, Dustin Berg, pleaded guilty in 2005 to charges he killed an Iraqi police officer he was on patrol with near Baghdad in 2003. He said he had misread the situation and felt threatened by the police officer. Berg was sentenced to 18 months in prison. So Morehead understands the kind of confusion that can surface during an insurgency, when it's hard to tell friend from foe. "We'd get attacked by mortars at the police station, and somebody (an Iraqi) would pick up their phone and start calling somebody," Morehead said. The U.S. soldiers quickly suspected the Iraqis were sending target adjustments to the mortar crews. "The next thing you knew, the attack would be closer the next time," he said. For safety, he said, they took cell phones from the Iraqis. Morehead was sent home after being shot while on guard duty at an Iraqi army base. He went to investigate a noise behind a building, and someone shot him. "They are pretty sure he was a soldier or a police officer," Morehead said. He chased the man, who got away, and received the Bronze Star for his actions. Holmes, who saw the Marines as a way of gaining life experiences, is trying to remain optimistic about the court-martial, Crowley said. She strongly believes in his innocence. "The government has made offers to resolve the case short of a jury trial, but that requires him to admit what he did that night was not self-defense," his attorney said. "He is not willing to do that." Enditem