2 gay Iraqi soldiers found love amid war -- then fled to the US

Advertisemen

The two first locked eyes on a dusty battlefield in Ramadi. After days of exchanging hasty glances amid gunfire, they snuck away one night to listen to Michael Jackson on shared earbuds.

The music stopped, but a love story was just beginning.

A decade ago, Allami was a sergeant in the Iraqi military when he met Hrebid, then a translator for the US Marines.

Militants had seized a hospital in Ramadi, and they were part of a mission to reclaim it.

When not defusing bombs, they'd talk late into the night at a pitch black lot surrounded by Humvees. Allami fell in love, unafraid of the war, yet terrified by what was happening with Hrebid.

Their love story would take them through two continents as they joined the 22 million refugees in the world, all fleeing war, grinding poverty and in their case, persecution from militants and relatives. Last year, only 14,700 Iraqi refugees were resettled worldwide, says Andrej Mahecic, a spokesman for the UN refugee agency. The UN does not have the number of applicants who claim asylum based on their sexual orientation or gender identity. Few countries, if any, collect such statistics, he says.

Taking chances

Neither Hrebid nor Allami knew the other was gay. Iraq is not a country where same-sex attraction is discussed in the open.

LGBT people in Iraq risk harassment, beatings, and brutal killings -- sometimes by family members. ISIS, which held large swaths of Iraqi territory until recently, has also targeted gay men, tossing many to their deaths from tall buildings.

Despite the risks, Allami took a chance two weeks after they met. "I love you," he told Hrebid.

Hrebid did not say a word, but drew him close and kissed him.

Allami was so excited, he didn't eat for two days. At the time, he didn't know that Hrebid loved his calm demeanor and the way his dark hair shone in the sunlight.

Their relationship grew, but in secret. They knew loving each other openly could be deadly. Even during the days of Don't Ask, Don't Tell, when the US did not officially allow gay people to serve in the military, Hrebid says a base officer allowed them to spend time together at the American base.

Their talks put them in a bubble. During those moments, war and bloodshed did not exist.

One last night

Hrebid loved his job as a translator.

At the base, his American buddies called him David to protect his identity. But word got out that he was gay, and that he was a US translator. His name was added to a militant hit list posted on the streets of Ramadi.

People started talking. It was time to leave.

In March 2009, Hrebid applied for asylum as part of a program that gives preference to Iraqis and Afghans who translated for the US government overseas. Hrebid's application was approved eight months later.

The night he got his US visa, they sat up all night in a candlelit room, hugging each other and crying.

As much as it crushed him, Hrebid flew to Seattle in December 2009, leaving Allami behind.

But they kept their promise to stay in...

Read More: 2 gay Iraqi soldiers found love amid war -- then fled to the US

Advertisemen