Do the right thing

Raad Al-Hilfy knows the terrain in Iraq a lot better than most of his colleagues in Operation Iraqi Freedom.

Raad is a native of Basra, Iraq's third biggest city. He immigrated to the United States in 1997, and went to work for the Defense Department in 2004. He has served four tours in Iraq, working as a translator for American combat forces, most recently Navy SEALs. The word "dangerous" does not begin to describe his job.

Raad loves his adopted country dearly, which is why he is having a hard time understanding why the government appears intent on deporting his wife, Norma.

"She is a good person," he said to me yesterday. "Even if she wasn't my wife I would say that. She is a hard-working person. She is a good citizen."

The irony of that last sentence was not lost on him.

His wife - let's not mince words - snuck into the country from her native Guatemala. She applied for asylum while she was living in Nevada. She later moved to Virginia, and finally, Massachusetts.

When the couple attempted to check on the status of her asylum application last year, they discovered that a judge in Nevada had issued an order of removal in 2005. The couple is now hoping that the government will exercise its discretion and overturn the ruling, allowing her to seek a green card.

They have won one influential ally: US Senator John F. Kerry.

"This is a real test of how we treat people who answer the call of duty," Kerry said over the phone last week. "We have a shortage of translators. We talk about winning the hearts and minds of people, and the last thing we should be doing is making life harder for the people who are making that effort."

I was able to speak to Raad in person because he is at home being treated for injuries he received in combat. He is scheduled to return to Iraq in about a month. Their first child, a son, is due in about 10 days.

Raad said he attempted to flee Iraq in 1991, in the aftermath of Operation Desert Storm. A Shia revolt against Saddam Hussein led to a bloodbath in and around Basra. Raad left home and crossed the border into Kuwait, where he hoped to throw himself on the mercy of American soldiers.

It didn't work out as planned. He says he was assaulted by Hussein loyalists. American soldiers, who had been helping refugees resettle, had stopped by the time he reached them. He spent seven years in a prison camp in Saudi Arabia.

"I was a man without a country," he said.

He entered the United States on July 9, 1997, and learned English watching television and reading magazines. He and Norma met in 1998. They were working at a Hyatt hotel in Virginia. He was washing dishes, and she was doing room service.

If Norma were sent back to Guatemala, their lives would be untenable. Raad doesn't speak Spanish or know what he would do for work there. He also wonders how an overwhelmingly Catholic country would react to a Muslim.

"I would give my life for my child to grow up here," he said. "It is his country."

Their attorney, Joy A. Cahaly, said an immigration judge could overturn the order to leave if so inclined, opening a path for Norma to eventually get a green card. Norma, however, has been ordered to report to the Burlington office of Immigration Customs and Enforcement on July 11, at which point she could be ordered out of the country. There isn't much time left to do the right thing.

By then, her husband will be back in Iraq, risking his life for the country that is threatening to tear apart his family. Kerry is right: His sacrifice deserves a lot better than that. Raad shouldn't have to worry abut whether he will have a family in America to come home to.

"I can't afford to lose my wife," he said.

Adrian Walker is a Globe columnist. He can be reached at walker@globe.com.