Watching the events of this past week unfold has stirred many emotions in me. In particular the encounters between protestors and riot control officers has reminded me of my own experience with crowd control, albeit from the other side of the wire.
Back in mid September 1994, in the waning years of my Marine Corps enlistment, I took part in Operation Uphold Democracy which sought to overturn a dictatorial coup in Haiti. In addition to securing a perimeter around the Cap-Haitien Airport, patrolling the streets and seizing munitions from remote armories, we were called upon to participate in humanitarian efforts by distributing food to impoverished and underserved communities. I learned that day that the rules of food distribution are pretty straight forward. In order to avoid potentially unmanageable crowds from forming you don’t advertise the time and place in advance and to discourage criminal activity you only distribute to women and children.
Best laid plans be damned because when Fox Company arrived a sizable crowd, simmering with anticipation, had formed on site rendering the streets nearly impassable. We rolled cautiously through the gates of the designated location where under the standard issue unwavering Marine mandate, we established position and prepared to meet the needs of the citizens. With an overabundance of caution we fixed bayonets, lined up and marched the crowd back far enough to establish a Concertina wire perimeter. We were prepared to stand for hours in full camouflage utilities under a midday sun and pass sack after sack of beans, rice, bread and peanut butter over the wire to the eagerly and graciously awaiting hands of the citizens.
For the first hour or so the crowd was ebullient, waving American flags, chanting an appreciative “USA” and keeping a respectable distance from the razor wire. Suddenly and as if prompted by some silent cue, the temperament began to shift. The crowd swayed and swelled, the male citizens who had once been assisting in crowd control, began reaching over the wire in an attempt to intercept the sacks of supplies. We sternly barked “stay back, stay back”, in our best makeshift Haitian Creole but the crowd continued to become agitated. It became increasingly clear that stronger measures would have to be deployed to keep both the crowd and the Marines at the wire safe.
Somewhere in the chaos the order to prepare for tear gas deployment was issued and we donned our gas masks in preparation. Our once open and earnest faces were instantly transformed into that of inhuman ghouls and the already degrading mood of the crowd reached a tipping point. From behind us came further direction to repel any advances using the butts of our rifles and bayonets if necessary. The crowd clearly picked up on this escalation in force and the surge began to encroach on the perimeter, pushing the wire back into the line of Marines. Men crouched down allowing others to vault over the line, arms and legs flailed and more than incidental contact was made. From over my shoulder a Lieutenant deployed pepper spray on a rapidly approaching citizen who responded in a truly surreal manner by opening his mouth wide to receive the full blast of the repellant. This scarcely seemed to slow him and I was soon forced to discourage his advance with the butt of my rifle.
By this point the primary mission to distribute food was completely abandoned with the quelling of unrest now of the utmost concern. I became peripherally aware that a CH-53 helicopter had taken up position and now hovered overhead preparing to drop CS gas canisters while simultaneously quashing any hope of a peaceable resolution. Nerves already strained were becoming increasingly frayed as we began reflexively striking at any perceived aggression with our rifles. Men were dragged over the wires and detained. The crowd roiled and roared. The rotor wash from above now buffeting and drowning out any discernible order. The chaos had reached fever pitch when suddenly I felt a sharp tug at my trouser leg. I drew my rifle back, preparing to strike at the aggressor and upon looking down to line up the shot saw a child of no more that 5 years old hopelessly insnared in the wire at my feet. The look of pure terror and desperation on her face cut right through my resolve and my heart immediately sunk as the sudden realization of what I had nearly done came into sharp focus. I signaled for a backup to relieve my position and hastily slinging my rifle, crouched down and began carefully removing the barbs from the little girls clothing and skin. She wailed and wriggled but I was able to get her clear in relative short order. I scooped her into my arms and carried her back to the waiting Navy Corpsmen to be looked after and patched up. In a moment forever crystalized in my memory, she gave a wane smile and reaching her arm out towards me offered that “bye bye” hand gesture that kids do before they learn to wave.
I turned around and preparing to hurry back to the frontline was stopped dead in my tracks by what I saw. I stared in stunned silence as the once seething and tumultuous crowd had inexplicably returned to calm and order. The throngs of agitated men, largely dispersed and sacks of supplies once again began flowing over the wire. Exhausted both physically and emotionally I pulled my gas mask off and drew a heavy breath of the fresh, unfiltered midday air, the stale rubber tanged gas mask smell lingering for a moment. I looked across the line where moments ago hunger and desperation had turned a peaceful crowd into a barely containable mob and I wondered if just one act of humanity had made a difference. Could that one small act echo and grow? Could it spread as silently and effectively as whatever ill wind had washed over crowd in the first place? Like equal yet opposing forces was that ripple of hope capable of cancelling out any wave of unrest?
Looking back it’s unclear what triggered the shift in temperament, whether the agitation was avoidable and just how much our show of force served to exasperate the situation. It seems that each side contributed incrementally to the cumulative unrest and a self-sustained feedback loop was created. Each micro aggression feeding off of the other until both the crowd and the Marines were whipped into a fevered frenzy. With this perspective it’s easy for me to sympathize with both sides of the crisis, recognizing in each participant both the capacity to incite and the compassion to resolve. I’m left hoping that much like that mid September day over 25 years ago, this current tide of unrest can likewise be ebbed by some equally small yet impactful act of humanity and that calm may once again return to both sides of the wire.
Mannino Acid 