“New York Times Looking For Thomas P. Daly” is probably an email that needs to be read. I received such a subject line two weeks ago. As my hotel’s wireless connection slowly downloaded the page my mind jumped from the comfort of corporate training to a distant past more than four years removed.

The location was Ramadi, Iraq, the beating heart of the Sunni insurgency and the nexus of al Qaeda in Iraq’s operations. It was a place where you were treated daily to the sounding off of rifles, machine guns, and a litany of explosions. Amongst the city’s concrete wasteland nothing grew but hate; while the wrath of war was an everyday affliction. Simply put, the coming storm had arrived for the 400,000 who called the capital city of Anbar Province home.

Sometimes it’s an experience better forgotten than spoken of. I read into the email:

“Hey Thomas,

This is Jack Healy of the New York Times. I’m in Baghdad and got your email from, of all places, a Sunni sheikh outside of Ramadi, in the village of Jueba.

We’ve been looking into the death of a guy named Hamid Shahab al Fadawai, also known as Abu Ali. Depending on who you ask, he was either an early leader in the fight against Al Qaeda in Anbar Province, or he himself was a terrorist. He was killed a few days ago by Iraqi Army forces who were trying to arrest him on a 2-year-old warrant, and we’ve been trying to get to the bottom of who he was and figure out what happened.

Do you remember him from your time in Ramadi at all? His family said you’d know him. I’ll forward you a picture of him as well.”

My heart sank. Abu Ali wasn’t just an early leader, he was the reason America defeated al Qaeda in Ramadi. A Saddam-era infantry officer and likely a nationalist insurgent in the early years of the conflict, I met Abu Ali on a dusty highway within the eastern outskirts of the city in January, 2007. With a Kalashnikov slung over his chest, wearing the chocolate chip camouflage uniform of the early 90’s, a ski mask, and twenty-four similarly clad locals around him, I think I had four machine guns pointed at the group while I strolled up. When our mutual mistrust nearly destroyed all cooperation after the first mission, Abu Ali was one of five who returned for the second. His reasoning was simple. While embracing our company commander he said he would help us until al Qaeda was defeated or he no longer drew breath. A strong statement, but one could sense the hatred in his eyes was genuine when he told you of his brother’s beheading that al Qaeda forced his brother’s wife and daughters to witness.

Over the next month and a half Abu Ali lived up to his promise. He personally helped us capture over fifty insurgents, led us to an al Qaeda regional military commander, lost another brother to beheading, earned the nickname “the grenade thrower” for killing an al Qaeda commander during an Iraqi version of hot-potato, convinced Jueba’s neutral tribes to rise up and crush the al Qaeda led tribes, turned those tribal fighters into a police force, and then became the Chief of Police for Jueba – only to be killed by his government for being an al Qaeda terrorist four years later.

I needed to know more. I sent Jack the phone number to the hotel.

Forty-five minutes later I was speechless. Abu Ali had been shot seven times in the back, at his own house. The Iraqi Army claimed he ran, but Abu Ali was a survivor. He would have known the Iraqi Army was coming to his home; they would’ve driven miles through his tribal area – plenty of time for warning. If he were to run, it would’ve been before the Iraqi Army arrived. For Abu Ali to be shot in the back at his own home meant one thing: he knew he was about to be executed.

Thousands of Ramadi’s citizens also found Abu Ali’s death highly suspect. Jack had gone to the city after seeing reports of them protesting and clashing with Iraqi Army troops in early June.

Then, on June 7, the Iraqi Army acquiesced to the protesters of Abu Ali’s killing and withdrew from areas east of Ramadi.

It was all very tough to swallow. Abu Ali had risked everything by doing the unthinkable, assisting America. For four years a combined team of 10,000 Marines and US Army soldiers were unable to pacify Ramadi. Yet, in the spring of 2007 we went from counting body bags, ammo, and days until redeployment, to assisting men like Abu Ali in eradicating al Qaeda. The successes of our efforts spread through the tribes of the lush Euphrates River Valley like a wildfire on a dry plain.

Yet, there is more to this story. The Iraqi Army’s First Division is responsible for Anbar. In 2009, the same year Abu Ali’s arrest warrant was issued, the leadership of the division (Sunnis) was replaced by Shia officers more loyal to Baghdad. While the specific reason is unknown to me, my instinct says that Abu Ali’s killing was planned. A former Saddam officer and hero of the Anbar Awakening, shot in the back, at his home, by Shia led government troops… it’s enough to enflame the entire Sunni population of Ramadi and potentially Iraq. I can think of one geographical neighbor that wouldn’t mind such a scenario.

In some ways the tragedy of Abu Ali’s death is the broader story of Iraq today. After years of economic and physical sacrifice there are many who would attempt to unravel what America has sown. We must recognize that Iraq is not some backwards country destined to a future of failure. It is the most secular, western Arab nation with an identity shaped over thousands of years and natural wealth beyond comprehension. Our political leadership should be fostering cooperation rather than demanding war reparations.

The sun may have set for Abu Ali but we should not allow him to pass into obscurity. Instead, we should cast his shadow far and wide in recognition of his battlefield heroism and sacrifice. When America needed an ally he stood up. Then we left. Do not let him die alone. Give him the remembrance and admiration, the respect, of a hero’s death.