Two Soldiers' Stories of War and Art 

BURLINGTON — "Open Wound" is one of the first works created by book-and-paper artist Eli Wright in the Combat Paper Project based at the Green Door Studio in Burlington, Vt.

"It's just about the wounds we all come home with and what eats us from the inside out," said Wright, a native of Denver, Colo. "It's a hole. A window into our souls into what we have been through."

He enlisted into the U.S. Army after 9/11. A 1st Infantry Division combat medic, he was stationed in Ar Ramadi, Iraq, from September 2003 to September 2004. He was told their task was to set up medical clinics and provide medical support.

"None of which ever happened. I was tasked out to other things. My job was primarily involved in trauma medicine. I was a line medic. I was an ambulance driver, and I also operated the battalion aid station and provided medical support for convoys. I did combat patrol for IEDs."



TAKING OWNERSHIP

Due to stop-loss, Wright's tour was involuntarily extended to six-and-a-half years. He worked at Walter Reed Army Medical Center and was transferred to the 10th Mountain Division in Watertown. A pending shoulder surgery gave him an Afghanistan out.

"I ended up getting medically retired out of the army at Fort Drum."

While he was on active duty there, he met Iraq Vets Against the War like Drew Cameron, co-founder of the Combat Paper Project. When he separated from the army, Wright wandered for a while before crashing with Combat Paper vets, who pulp military uniforms to make paper for art.

"I started working on the project full time and moved to Burlington."
At first, he lived in his car and with friends. Now, he rents a room. Papermaking has been art therapy for him.

"It's provided an outlet for us to deal with our experiences we've been through. It's a way we can take ownership of those stories instead of relying on the media and the pundits to tell our stories. It allows us as veterans to tell our own story and write our own story."

He said their history was stripped away from them and told inaccurately.

"It gives us a way to deal with our experiences and to open up dialogue with people and talk about war and take it beyond a tactical or political side of the story. We tell it from the human perspective of what we went through and the people we interacted with."



COLLATERAL DAMAGE

Wright's "Bear" is a chilling work in the Combat Paper exhibition now traveling to the United Kingdom.

"It was a sculptural piece with my teddy bear from childhood. I had it when I was a baby."

He hadn't seen the stuffed bear for years. After returning home, he retrieved it from his sister.

"We took it to the firing range and shot it with a 9 millimeter and a AR-15 rifle. I shot the teddy bear and afterward I cut him open and took out the stuffing and restuffed him with the bullet casings I shot him with and military-uniform buttons and combat paper."

Wright closed the bear back up with surgical sutures. He also placed a noose around the bear's neck.

"The explanation that best describes it is addressing the loss of innocence in the war, in the young people we send off to fight war."

The work also encompasses collateral damage, the Iraqi children and other innocent lives affected by war.

"The children we send off to war die and come back much older," Wright said.



A NUMBERS GAME

Matt Howard realizes that his experiences as a marine are not black and white but highly complex and contradictory at times.

"It's really helped me deal with those feelings and demons and sort out those experiences," said Howard, a native of Foxborough, Mass. "I think a lot of people feel conflicted. There are positive experiences we hold on to that mix in with these horrific and negative aspects. Sometimes, it's hard to reconcile the two."

Howard joined the Marine Corps in November 2001 for a whole host of reasons — service, benefits, lack of direction. He was attached to the 1st Tank Battalion. The mission: Take Baghdad.

"The experience left me deeply questioning the proportionality of force we used. It really dawned on me instantly, the cultural and historical value of this place. Especially when we saw some of the ancient artifacts and ruins being desecrated by Marine units. Especially when we saw the looting of the museums. These were priceless artifacts being destroyed."



DECONSTRUCTION

Howard did only four years.

"It's a numbers game, and I got lucky. I had friends that were extended and called back."

After he left the Marines, he lived a year in Montreal.

"I spent a long time processing and made the decision to move back and reintegrate in my own society."

Howard met Cameron and other vets who had similar experiences.

"Who had been to Iraq and deeply questioned our motivation, our tactics. Through meeting this community, I really began to feel that I had a responsibility to speak out because I was there, and I was sent there in the name of the collective public."

For him, the Combat Paper Project is about deconstruction.

"I felt that so much of my service was one thing on paper and another thing in reality. Much of the true nature of military service is unfortunately wrapped up in the flag and not really talked about. To me, this project is a great way to use a different medium to connect with people, a personal-interactive medium and not just lecturing someone. It provides much more intimacy in trying to relate these experiences to the broader public."

He can talk about the war on end but has trouble writing his thoughts.

"It's been really hard for me, a reluctance to put that down in a more permanent way," Howard said. "One of the things I did with making paper is turn a uniform into a journal and having that be a vehicle for myself."



E-mail Robin Caudell at: rcaudell@pressrepublican.com