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NYC-1991-04-08
Ismael Cotto joins the Marines to learn a job skill, but comes back from the Persian Gulf War in a body bag.

The War Hits Home
No Parades for One Bronx Family

By Sheila Maldonado

Over the past few months, the pain of war reached out beyond the battlefield and found its way into the smallest corners of America. One of them was a four-floor walkup on Beck Street in the South Bronx.

On January 29, Marine Corporal Ismael Cotto Jr. was killed in combat in Khafji, Saudi Arabia, 5000 miles away from the streets where he grew up. "For [the government] not many have died," said his mother, Carmen Cotto, holding back her tears, "but when just one person dies that's a lot. The family is devastated."

Ismael Cotto was the ideal recruit. As a child, his mother remembers he loved to play with "juguetitos de soldado," little toy soldiers. "He had a ton of them," she recalled. He and his brother Carlos were also members of the Cadets, a military version of the Boy Scouts. But Ismael seemed to take it more seriously than the rest. "We all went so far," Carlos explained, "but he went all the way...it was in his blood."

He Had a Future

Martin Schiff, the brothers' wrestling coach at Alfred E. Smith HS, remembers Ismael for his determination to succeed, "He was tough and brave," he said. "Even if the other wrestler was bigger and stronger than he was, he was ready to go in and fight." Schiff said he was reliable as well. "He was like an assistant coach-like an adult."

Besides that, Cotto was smart. "Students like Ismael come along every 100 years," said Frank Messina, his architectural drafting teacher at Smith. "In the 16 years that I taught, I gave [only] two 100's, I gave Ismael one of them...We tend to stereotype kids from the South Bronx," he continued, "but Ismael and his classmates had a future."

While the two brothers were in high school, Carlos said army recruiters "would come around practically every day," and try to shape those futures. "[Once] I had this recruiter bothering me," he recalled, "[and] I went in and failed [the test] on purpose so that he would leave me alone." Carlos said the recruiter told him he could take the test over and assured him he'd do better the second time around. "They'll do any little thing to get you in," he explained. "[They're] just salesmen."

Empty Promises

At 18, when he graduated from high school, Ismael was ready to enlist but his mother talked him out of it. Instead, he went to City College to study computers and worked as a counselor for young people in his neighborhood. Three years later, in his junior year, he entered the Marines.

"It was the way we were living-the way we grew up," recalled Carlos. "[Ismael] got tired of seeing the crime and the drugs and the teen pregnancies and the dropouts...The military was offering him a chance to see the world outside the Bronx."

The other big reason was his career. Ismael hoped to work with computers in the military. "He went into the Marines to continue his studies," said his mother, "so he could have a trade that would support him later on."

According to Carlos, the training Ismael was offered by his recruiter turned out to be an "empty promise." He was put on a waiting list and placed in the infantry. "He was in a vehicle that battles tanks...a guy of his intellect...he wanted to be an officer...he wanted to study." In his six and a half years in the Marines, Ismael Cotto never touched a computer.

He did get to travel, however, but not quite the way he pictured it. From a military base in North Carolina he was transferred to California, where he met his future wife, Maria. In August of 1989, they shipped him to Japan for a full year of duty. "He wasn't allowed to bring his wife or daughter," said his brother. "He had no say in it. He tried to get out of it...[but] they wouldn't listen, they didn't care."

Signing Your Life Away

When Ismael finally returned to the U.S. last July, he had two months with his family before being shipped out again, this time to the Persian Gulf, this time for good. "[When you enlist] you're signing your life away," said Carlos.

From Saudi Arabia, Ismael wrote to his mother "at least once a week." In his last letter, "He told me that his vehicle had broken down, it broke down all the time," she said. "They really suffered...they'd go four, five days in the same clothes, without washing...they walked from place to place in the heat, and when night came they'd stay right there in the sand."

Carlos spoke to his brother on the phone a few days before the war started in January. He said he sounded "very down." Carlos asked him if he needed anything. "Just a one way ticket outta here," he replied.

Not So Glamorous

By that time, the military life had lost its glamour for Ismael. Carlos pointed to a picture on the wall in which his brother sports a white military cap, and a dark, pressed, navy blue uniform. He explained that the "dress blues" uniform that Marines wear in their official photos, "the one with the shiny buttons you see in all the ads," have to be paid for. It doesn't just come with the job. Ismael had to borrow one to have the picture taken.

"The attraction [the military holds for young people] is based on something that is mainly false," Carlos went on. "They only show you the glamour part. They don't remind you when you sign up...that you may be giving up your life."

For the Cotto family, there remain many questions about the way Ismael died. At first, Marines visited their home and told them he had been killed by fire from allied troops ("friendly fire"). "They said it was an accident," said his mother. "Then they changed their story [and said it was the Iraqis.] I'd really like to know how it happened." Carlos explained that most of the information they have gotten has been from news reports. "They told us they'd get back to us [but] they never called back."

"For them, practically nobody died," said Ismael's mother. A single death however, has left her family reeling with confusion, angry and disillusioned. She said to her the war was nothing more than a "whim" on the part of President Bush. "[It] could have been avoided," added Carlos. "My brother died in vain."

It Could Have Been Me

Jose Belén, a junior at Alfred E. Smith HS, where the Cotto brothers went to school, commented that while some may see it as a victory, they are forgetting families like the Cottos. The Persian Gulf War was certainly no victory to them. "We feel that throwing parades is a slap in the face," said Carlos. The Cottos feel they have nothing to celebrate. They can only mourn.

"It could have been me," reflected Mario Caraballo, another junior at Alfred E. Smith. "I wanted to be a pilot in the army," he said, "[but, now] I don't know." Carmen Cotto would like to warn young people like Jose and Mario against making the same mistake her son made: "Don't let yourself be blinded by all the pretty stuff they advertise in the army. Study hard, you can achieve anything you want by studying. You don't have to enlist."

In the end, Ismael Cotto did achieve a small portion of the glory he was promised as a young man. The Marines gave him his "dress blues" after all-the one with the shiny buttons. He wore it to his funeral. Instead of paying in cash, he paid for it with his life.

"Think About It":
Prompts for discussion and/or writing:

—Ismael Cotto found the military's promises to be false. How has reading this article affected or changed your view of the armed forces?

—President George W. Bush says we are in a war against the terrorists who attacked our country. Do you think that is the best approach for dealing with the crisis? Why or why not?

—When, in your view, is war justified? Under what conditions would you fight in a war for the U.S.? When would you choose not to fight?