By: Kurt Nagl

MAKHMUR, Kurdistan Region – Chris Smith left the serene beaches of Southern California to fight terror on the hot plains of Makhmur in Northern Iraq.

The 25-year-old economics student had completed two tours in Iraq as an infantryman with the United States Army. When the US withdrew its troops from the country in 2011, the instability and violence remained.

Smith watched it all unfold through the media – a deluge of news stories and television clips about the Islamic State’s brutal campaign to take over Iraq and Syria.

“I heard every day about ISIS,” Smith said on Saturday at a makeshift base for the Peshmerga, on the frontlines in Makhmur. “I had a window of opportunity.”

The youthful, blonde-haired soldier emptied his bank account for a plane ticket to Erbil, the capital of the Kurdistan Region. He tried unsuccessfully to convince his parents and friends he was not insane.

“Every single person told me not to go,” Smith recalled. “My dad said, ‘Do you know what they do to people over there?’”

The pervading feeling that his mission in Iraq was not over compelled Smith to go despite opposition from loved ones.

“In Iraq, I felt like nothing was accomplished,” he said of his previous tours. “I didn’t know why I was there.

“ISIS undid all the work we were trying to do. The Iraqi army abandoned its citizens. I felt personally offended.”

Smith landed in Erbil with little money, no contacts and unable to speak Kurdish. After days of searching for information and contemplating whether he had made the right decision, Smith caught a break. He met a member of the Asayish who helped him liaise with the Peshmerga.

Three months later, Smith sits at his base, 70-km from Erbil, as an unpaid volunteer waiting for action along with 50 Kurdish comrades. He wears an American flag patch on the right arm of his uniform, a Kurdish Army patch on his left.

“I feel like no matter where I’m fighting, it’s always for America,” he said, adding that his comrades back home probably do not know where he is now. “I always put America first.”

Smith notes staggering differences between the “budding” Kurdish military, as he calls it, and his experiences with the US military.

“The Kurds buy their own weapons,” he said. “Many are not paid. There is no funding or training.”

Since joining the Peshmerga, Smith has befriended fellow fighters, including Mohammad Saber, a 28-year-old native of Erbil who knows some English. Saber has helped Smith adapt to life near the frontlines.

“He is a very good boy,” Saber said. “Kurdish. American. Together we are the same. We are brothers.”

As the sun begins to set, women from the local village bring food and drinks for the men at the base.

Smith no longer questions why he came and says with certainty he will stay for a while.

“They all have the will to fight,” he said. “One reason they join is for their family and the people. Seeing that sacrifice made me stay.”

Rudaw