KILLEEN, Texas — Maj. Nidal Malik Hasan prepared for war this week the way soldiers often do, by letting go of the things he would no longer need.

The Army psychiatrist went to extremes, though, giving away not just furniture and the broccoli in his freezer, but also money and several copies of the Quran.

“He was so nice to me,” said Patricia Villa, who lived next door to Hasan in an apartment building where units rent for $300 a month.

He told her he was heading to Afghanistan at the end of the week. But the battlefield was just down the street, at Fort Hood, where authorities say Hasan opened fire Thursday on a room full of deploying colleagues.

Stark contrasts appear again and again when retracing the life steps of the 12-year veteran, who was shot four times during the attack but survived.

Some who knew Hasan professionally remember a model employee. Col. Kimberly Kesling, deputy commander of clinical services at Darnall Army Medical Center at Fort Hood, described him Friday as a “hardworking, dedicated young man who gave great care to his patients.”

“I don’t know why” he would do such a thing, she said. “You would hope you would never know someone who had such a demon inside.”

Others describe someone whose Islamic zeal had long driven him to inappropriate behavior.

While studying in Maryland years ago, Hasan was reportedly put on probation for trying to convert patients and colleagues. And “he would become physically upset” if challenged about his opposition to the war on terror, said Dr. Val Finnell, a fellow student at the Uniformed Services University in Bethesda.

For a class presentation on environmental health, Hasan insisted on pursuing the topic, “Is the war on terror a war against Islam?” Finnell told The Dallas Morning News.

Hasan described himself as “a Muslim first and an American second,” he added.

U.S. Rep. Michael McCaul of Austin, a senior Republican on the Homeland Security Committee briefed Friday by investigators and military officials, said a picture emerged of a man torn.

“He has this internal conflict between his religious convictions and his opposition to the war in Afghanistan and Iraq, and his official capacity in the U.S. military,” McCaul said. “His deployment to Afghanistan was the final straw that made him snap.”

McCaul said that “in a perfect world,” Hasan would have been released from the Army — something his relatives have said he sought.

“There were flags along the way,” McCaul said. “He told one of his colleagues that Muslims need to unite. And he wasn’t talking about against the enemies we see, but rather against Americans.”

Palestinian roots

Hasan is a U.S. citizen, born in Virginia 39 years ago. But he was acutely aware of his roots: His late parents were Palestinians who immigrated to the U.S. in the early 1960s, when they were not yet adults themselves.

They ran businesses in Roanoke, where Hasan graduated from high school. He attended nearby Virginia Tech, graduating in 1997 with a degree in biochemistry. Virginia records show he obtained a concealed handgun permit a year earlier.

Hasan moved on to suburban Washington, D.C., where he got his medical degree at the Uniformed Services University and did his residency at Walter Reed Army Medical Center. He began to specialize in helping soldiers suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder — work that is known to put extraordinary stress on counselors.

He worshipped at the Muslim Community Center in Silver Spring, Md., where mosque leaders and members offered a conflicting portrait of him Friday.

Dr. Asif Qadri, director of the center’s medical clinic, said Hasan was proud of his military service. Qadri trained at Walter Reed years before Hasan, and the two occasionally spoke about their common experiences.

“Knowing this particular person, I cannot believe this attack was political or religious,” Qadri said. “Something personally went wrong.”

But Ezeddine Benyedder, who described himself as one of Hasan’s close friends, said Hasan wasn’t keen about some parts of the military.

Benyedder, a 51-year-old from Silver Spring, said Hasan didn’t like the idea of fighting against other Muslims. Once, he said, the psychiatrist showed a group of friends a presentation he made on how religious objectors to war and violence should be allowed to leave the military.

“I am deeply saddened,” said the Muslim Community Center’s imam, Mohamed Abdullahi. “This act is against Islam, and yet Islam is accused because he is Muslim …

“The Quran says that if someone kills one single human being, it is as if he has killed all of humanity.”

A written statement from Hasan’s family sounded a similar note.

“Our family is filled with grief for the victims and their families involved in yesterday’s tragedy,” according to the statement, which was provided by Nader Hasan, a cousin of the suspect in Virginia. “We are mortified and there is no justification, whatsoever, for what happened.

“Everyone is asking why this happened — and the answer is that we simply do not know. We cannot explain, nor do we excuse or understand what happened yesterday.”

Terrorist links?

One clue may lie in an Internet posting made in May by someone using the name Nidal Hasan. It seemed to equate suicide bombers with soldiers who throw themselves on a grenade to save colleagues.

“To say that this soldier committed suicide is inappropriate,” the posting said. “It’s more appropriate to say he is a brave hero that sacrificed his life for a more noble cause.”

Law enforcement officials say they have not confirmed that Hasan actually posted the comment. McCaul, the congressman from Austin, suggested that they had.

“But do we have any proof that he was talking to a cell in Pakistan or Afghanistan? No,” McCaul said.

Investigators are scrubbing his computer and cellphone records.

“They’re clearly looking for any terrorist links,” McCaul said. “The military said it’s not terrorism-related, and it may not be.

“All the indications are that he operated by himself at Fort Hood, but the broader question is: Is he truly a lone wolf operating on his own, or was he radicalized through external sources either in the United States or overseas?” Hasan came to Fort Hood in July and found a 350-square-foot home at the Casa del Norte apartments.

By August, he told police, he was a crime victim. Someone used a key to scratch up his 2006 Honda Civic and ripped a bumper sticker that praised Allah.

Jose Padilla, who owns the apartments, believed that a tenant named John Van De Walker was responsible and evicted him. Last month, Killeen police arrested the man on a charge of criminal mischief.

Van De Walker was already on probation for aggravated assault of an ex-girlfriend. He was a soldier, too, suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, said his mother, Brenda Yoder.

He was discharged from the Army on Oct. 21, the same day he was arrested, she said.

He remains jailed in Bell County and could not be reached for comment Friday. His mother said he accused Hasan of harassment: “He got into John’s face and said that Islam is the answer and that Christians suck.”

Final hours

Hasan rose well before dawn Thursday. He spent the first part of the day taking care of business.

Around 5 a.m., he called a neighbor and left a message thanking him for being a good friend.

Then he went to worship at the mosque of the Islamic Community of Greater Killeen, where associates said he had been attending occasionally without becoming a member.

He left about 6:15 a.m., said Abdulkarim Hulwe, who is retired from the U.S. Army and has lived in Killeen for 16 years.

“He was calm when he left,” Hulwe said, speaking after a Friday prayer service. “He was smiling — he was always smiling. He was a very nice man.

“I don’t know what happened. I’m not going to justify it. … I’m still shocked.”

Osman Danquah, who was in the Army for 22 years and co-founded the mosque, said of those who were gunned down Thursday: “Those could have been my soldiers.”

He added: “Islam means peace. Throughout history, Muslims and other faiths have coexisted.”

Sgt. Fahad Kamal, a mosque member who is a medic at Fort Hood, said he hoped the massacre doesn’t lead people to stereotype Muslims.

“Most Muslims,” he said, “join the Army as Americans first.”

By 6:20 a.m., Hasan was at a nearby 7-Eleven for his daily dose of hash browns. Later in the morning, he visited Villa, his next-door neighbor. She was making sweet tamales.

Hasan brought her a clothing steamer, clothing racks and an air mattress, adding to the frozen vegetables and chairs and holy book he’d given her earlier in the week. He asked her to clean his apartment on Friday. But when they looked at his place, it appeared to need little work.

He asked her how much she wanted for the job, and she said $30.

“That’s too little,” he replied, and gave her $60.

By early afternoon, Hasan was on the base. He was carrying a 5.7-millimeter pistol that he had legally purchased at a Killeen store called Guns Galore and another handgun, law enforcement officials told The Associated Press.

He went to a processing center that was full of soldiers who intended to go to Afghanistan. More than a dozen will never make it.

“I cannot comprehend,” Padilla said, “that the enemy was among us.”

Staff writers Tom Benning, Sonya N. Hebert, Christy Hoppe, Todd J. Gillman, Jim Landers and Jessica Meyers, The Associated Press and National Public Radio contributed to this report.

mhaag@dallasnews.com; dmichaels@dallasnews.com; begerton@dallasnews.com