On November 14, 2025, as dawn broke over the border town of Nogales, Mexico, Army Sgt. Jose Barco—decorated Iraq War veteran and Purple Heart recipient—became one of the latest U.S. military veterans to be deported, ending a months-long legal and emotional odyssey that has gripped advocates, lawmakers, and veterans across the country. His removal, confirmed by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), has sparked renewed debate over the fate of non-citizen veterans, the obligations of a nation to those who serve, and the complexities of immigration law in a politically charged era.
Barco’s journey to this moment began decades earlier. Born in Venezuela to Cuban parents who had fled political persecution, Barco arrived in the United States as a political refugee at the age of four or five, according to reporting from The Copper Courier and The Denver Gazette. Growing up in America, he embraced his adopted country, enlisting in the U.S. Army at 17 under a "Soldier to Citizen" contract that promised a path to citizenship for those who served honorably. The promise of citizenship, as he later recounted, was a powerful motivator: “The promise of U.S. citizenship from an Army recruiter sounded better than working construction in Miami, so he joined up at 17 before he graduated from high school,” Colorado Politics noted.
Barco’s military service was marked by both heroism and trauma. On November 11, 2004, while serving in Iraq with the 2nd Battalion, 12th Infantry, Barco’s Humvee was struck by an improvised explosive device (IED). The vehicle exploded in a fireball, and Barco, despite being badly burned, rushed to the aid of two fellow soldiers pinned beneath the wreckage. According to his former medic, Ryan “Doc” Krebbs, “Barco immediately ran toward the burning chassis, and lifted the chassis with his bare hands off of two soldiers who were pinned underneath. It wasn’t until the soldiers were unpinned that he realized he was on fire.” For his actions, Barco was awarded the Purple Heart—a symbol of his sacrifice and valor.
Yet the scars of war ran deeper than the burns on his skin. Barco suffered a traumatic brain injury (TBI) and later developed post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), conditions that would shadow him long after his discharge in 2008. Despite being told by doctors that his injuries qualified him for an honorable medical retirement—and with it, lifelong pension and healthcare—Barco was determined to return to his unit. “This man is a hero. This is the type of people that we want, and I understand that he made a mistake, but he paid his debt to society,” Ricardo Reyes, executive director of Vets Forward, told The Copper Courier.
But the transition to civilian life proved devastating. In April 2009, Barco—then struggling with worsening TBI symptoms and mental health issues—was involved in a shooting incident in Colorado Springs. He shot into a crowd, injuring a pregnant 19-year-old woman. Barco later told NPR he had no memory of the event, which his wife and fellow soldiers attributed to a flashback and a state of disorientation. He was convicted of two counts of attempted first-degree murder and sentenced to 52 years in prison. “I made a mistake. I shot into a crowd and hit a woman in the leg. I own that. I paid for that. What else do you want from me?” Barco said in a phone interview, as reported by The Denver Gazette.
After serving 15 years—released early for good behavior on January 21, 2025—Barco’s hopes for a fresh start were quickly dashed. ICE agents apprehended him immediately upon his release from Colorado’s Canon City prison. Thus began a nine-month odyssey through the U.S. immigration system, during which Barco was shuffled between nine ICE facilities in three states. An early attempt to deport him to Venezuela failed when Honduran authorities refused him entry, citing concerns about his documentation and accent. He was returned to detention in Texas, and his legal team continued to fight his removal.
Throughout this ordeal, Barco’s supporters—family, fellow veterans, and advocacy organizations—rallied on his behalf. On November 14, 2025, as news of his deportation broke, they gathered outside the ICE field office in downtown Phoenix, holding signs and sharing stories of his service. “Deported veterans should not even be in a sentence,” said Arizona state Rep. Cesar Aguilar. “When you serve this country, you should be an American citizen, and you should be given some sort of legal status in this country.”
Barco’s wife, Tia, expressed her anguish in a statement to The Denver Gazette: “This country had a choice – to treat Jose (for his Traumatic Brain Injury and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) or punish him. It chose punishment. And now it has chosen permanent banishment.” She added, “We are mourning more than a deportation. We are mourning the abandonment of a veteran.” Barco’s daughter, whom he has never met outside prison, remains in the United States with her mother.
The timing of Barco’s deportation was especially painful for those who served alongside him. “He was kicked out of the U.S. not only on Veterans Day, but it was also 21 years to the day that he was wounded and earned his Purple Heart,” Krebbs observed. The symbolism was not lost on the veteran community, many of whom saw Barco’s removal as a profound betrayal of the nation’s commitment to its service members.
Barco’s case is not unique. According to estimates cited by lawmakers in a letter to the Department of War Secretary Pete Hegseth, more than 10,000 U.S. veterans have been deported. Four have been removed since January 20, 2025, with five more currently held by ICE, according to Danitza James, president and CEO of the League of Latin American Citizens (LULAC). Earlier this year, President Trump rescinded a Biden-era memo that had instructed ICE to consider military service in removal proceedings, unless “significant aggravating factors” were present. The change in policy left veterans like Barco vulnerable to deportation based on their criminal records, regardless of their service or the circumstances of their offenses.
For Barco, the journey ended in Nogales, Mexico—a city unfamiliar to him, with no friends or family to greet him. Unlike many deportees, he had not crossed the U.S. border illegally; his only home had been the United States since childhood. Adam Isacson, Director for Defense Oversight at the Washington Office on Latin America, explained to Colorado Politics that Nogales is a common deportation destination, with over 14,000 people sent through its border crossing since January. Processing can take days, and deportees are often sent further south, far from the U.S. border.
As Barco’s name disappeared from the ICE detainee locator, his family and advocates were left with more questions than answers. Reyes, reflecting on the outcome, said, “[The] Trump administration [doesn’t] really care about veterans, about our service. Instead of helping us, they deported him. That is a betrayal to people who took an oath to fight for this country.”
The story of Jose Barco is a stark reminder of the tangled intersection of immigration, military service, and justice in America—a place where heroism and hardship can coexist, and where the promise of belonging sometimes slips away, even for those who risked everything in its defense.
