Archive for the 'Uncategorized' Category

From Mark Schultz.  His Letters from War served as the centerpiece of the U.S. Army’s 2004 “Be Safe—Make It Home” campaign.

Seeing our son off to Mohave Viper yesterday for 30 days of training (here is another good description), and waiting for him to get a “medium-reg” haircut in the Semper Fi barber shop in Jacksonville, N.C., this caught my eye hanging on the wall.  I thought I would share it with you.

A dead soldier who has given his life because of the failure of his leader is a dreadful sight before God.  Like all dead soldiers, he was tired before he died and undoubtedly dirty.  And possibly, frightened to his soul — and there on top of all of that, never again to see his homeland.

Don’t be the leader who failed to instruct him properly, or who failed to lead him well.  Burn the midnight oil, that you may not in later years look at your own hands and find his blood still red upon them.

In lieu of Friday night music, here are two pictures.  The first is taken from Grandfather Mountain, North Carolina.  The second is of Daniel in his dress blues.  It takes a lot to get a Marine into his dress blues.  This was a lot.  Daniel’s best buddy, Andy Strickland, got married.  Andy and Daniel went through MEPS, Boot Camp and SOI together, were picked up by the fleet together and are in the same platoon at Camp Lejeune.  They will deploy together.  There isn’t any doubt in my mind that either one would die for the other.

Many things can cause the diminution of a military.  During and after Vietnam it was the drug culture, political upheaval, and changes in core value systems in the family and society.  In measure, this was addressed by General Alfred Gray, the 29th Commandant of the Marine Corps, whom I hold in iconic status.  General Gray brought back the warrior ethos to the Marine Corps after the Vietnam era.  I requested that General Gray send my son an autographed picture of him as a boot camp graduation gift.  He kindly obliged with a picture of himself in cammies, autographed and with a nice note congratulating my son on becoming a “warrior.”  It is framed and hanging on our wall at home.  It is of note that he signed the photograph “General Al Gray, Marine.”

No pretentions, just “Marine.”

There are other dangers for our military, due in no small part to the military-industrial complex.  There is a very sobering piece entitled “Regression,” by William Lind.  In part he says:

When I was in Israel several years ago, I said to my host, a retired Israeli general with several interesting books to his credit, that I thought the IDF had begun to regress to the Second Generation after the 1973 war. He told me I was wrong; the regression had begun after the war in 1967.

The question of how it happened, and why maintaining the culture of a Third Generation military is so difficult even for armed services that have attained it—the Royal Navy lost it after the Napoleonic Wars, for reasons brilliantly set forth in Andrew Gordon’s The Rules of the Game, and the German Army lost it when the Bundeswehr was created, for political reasons—is of interest far beyond Israel. A number of Israelis have traced it in their case to the development of a large weapons R&D and procurement establishment, and I think there is a lot to that argument.

The virtues required in military officers involved in weapons development and procurement are the virtues of the bureaucrat: careful, even obsessive attention to process; avoiding risky decisions, and whenever possible making decisions by committee; avoiding responsibility; careerism, because success is measured by career progression; and generally shining up the handle on the big front door. Time is not very important, while dotting every i and crossing every t is vital, since at some point the auditors will be coming, and the politicians and the press will be waiting eagerly for their reports. Remunerative careers in the defense industry await those officers who know how to go along to get along. While the Israeli defense industry has produced some remarkably good products, such as the Merkava tank, getting the program funded still tends to be more important than making sure the weapon will work in combat. As time goes on, efficiency tends to become more important than effectiveness; not surprisingly, the simpler and more effective Israeli weapon systems came earlier, and more recent ones tend to reflect the American tendency toward complex and expensive ineffectiveness.

The Israeli inquiry into the Lebanon fiasco is unlikely to address this issue for the same reason it is not addressed in the United States: too much money is at stake. The R&D and procurement tail now wags the combat arms dog. Nor is the question of how to reverse the process and restore the virtues a Third Generation military requires in its officers an easy one. Those virtues—eagerness to make decisions and take responsibility, boldness, broad-mindedness and a spirit of intellectual inquiry, contempt for careerism and careerists—are not wanted in Second Generation militaries, and officers who demonstrate them are usually weeded out early. A Third Generation culture is difficult to maintain, and even more—impossible perhaps?—to restore once lost.

Yet, as I have said many times in these columns, a Second Generation military, no matter how lavishly resourced, has no chance against Fourth Generation opponents. In this conundrum lies the fate of the state of Israel, and the fate of states everywhere.

I am quick to speak out on the need for advancements in technology when it comports with troop protection and effectiveness, and when the technology is something other than R&D adventurism.  I posted on “Thermobaric Weapons and Body Armor,” and I posted here and here on proper funding of the Marine Corps.  But if you’ll notice about these posts, the equipment, if successful, would redound directly to increased safety for troops and effectiveness of our forces.  And … immediately so.

There is a darker side of the military establishment.  This side nurtures careerism, avoidance of responsibility, networking, and bowing to political pressures.  May I speak for the grunt for a minute?  When the grunts see this, they always judge it for what it is, and they immediately lose all respect for those who behave this way.  This loss of respect is irrevocable.

The most technologically advanced equipment is no replacement for well-trained, well-led and motivated troops.  To be frank, for those who have their career as the premier concern, they should just step aside and save their reports the trouble of cleaning up their mess and suffering the consequences of their careerism.  For the military-industrial complex, I have more harsh words for you.  If you are selling inferior products to the military, doctoring or embellishing data just to make a sale when you know that some other product is better suited to the mission, or in any way endangering our boys at arms in order to make a buck, you may be able to keep up the pretensions before men, but God sees things that take place in secret.  He knows the thoughts and intentions of the heart, and there will be a day of reckoning.  That will be an awful day for you.

I was dropping my son off at Camp Lejeune the day after labor day, and I saw Daniel’s eyes light up, as he said “Awesome.  Big flag today!”  He proceeded to inform me of the size of the flag and to mark the days that they flew that size flag.  He then said something rather stunning to me.  He said, “There are no more patriots.”  I rode the rest of the way to his barracks in silence.  He got out of the car, hugged me tightly, and said, “I love you dad.”  I have noticed that things that a boy wouldn’t otherwise do when he is a teen or in his early 20’s, Daniel has no problem doing, even around other Marines.  Somehow, the things that the Marine Corps instills and teaches makes them into something different than they were before.  They have a certain confidence that seems unshakable.

As I drove away from the base, I thought, “I know at least one patriot who is left.  And, I’ll bet that there are more than 2500 more who have perished in Iraq.”

With boys like these, we may just be okay.

My son’s billet has been decided (of course, as I am told by him, everything is subject to change at any time for any reason).  But as of right now, he is the SAW operator (Squad Automatic Weapon).  You can read about it at USMCWeapons.com and at Answers.com.  He functions as the SAW gunner for his fire team.  You can read about the fire team at Wikipedia.  His description of Squad rushes for 6000 meters on a Friday afternoon in 90 degree F weather makes me glad that I sit behind a desk.

So now rather than just carry 40 lbs of body armor and a 100 lb backpack, he has to tote another 25-30 lbs depending on the amount of ammunition he has.

When he gets to come home on the weekends he is very tired.  The Sergeant Major is an inspiration to him, though.  Much older than the young Marines, all of the young ones have trouble keeping the pace he sets on “humps.”

Daniel asks for prayer regularly.

My son’s billet has been decided (of course, as I am told by him, everything is subject to change at any time for any reason).  But as of right now, he is the SAW operator (Squad Automatic Weapon).  You can read about it at USMCWeapons.com and at Answers.com.  He functions as the SAW gunner for his fire team.  You can read about the fire team at Wikipedia.  His description of Squad rushes for 6000 meters on a Friday afternoon in 90 degree F weather makes me glad that I sit behind a desk.

So now rather than just carry 40 lbs of body armor and a 100 lb backpack, he has to tote another 25-30 lbs depending on the amount of ammunition he has.

When he gets to come home on the weekends he is very tired.  The Sergeant Major is an inspiration to him, though.  Much older than the young Marines, all of the young ones have trouble keeping the pace he sets on “humps.”

Daniel asks for prayer regularly.

I have created a new category: Daniel.  I have introduced you to him before about the time of School of Infantry graduation.  I don’t know him as Private, or Smith, or as he knows himself — “grunt.”  I know him as my son, Daniel.

But he currently lives in a world of very difficult training and preparation, and he knows himself as “grunt.”  He is not a poag (person other than a grunt).  He is infantry … boots on the ground.  When the Marines go in, the ones who go in are the infantry.  The others, while important, provide support to the ones who are at the tip of the spear.  The Marine Corps infantry has the most dangerous job in the world (with all due respect to Alaskan Crab Fishermen).

Daniel lives in a world where they wake at 0200 hours, put on 40 pounds of body armor (18.14 kg) and 100 pound backpacks (45.4 kg) and “hump” (a very fast march, or walk) 20 miles (32.2 km).  They practice “stacks” and “room-clearing” in urban warfare simulations.  They get to sleep — sometimes — for a couple of hours per night when out in the field, only to wake and have to pull leeches off of each other.  It is difficult to sleep, though, with artillery going and jets overhead.  They train on every weapon that they might have to use, and are expected to be very good with their own weapon, the M16A2 or the M4.  If you look carefully, you will notice a scar on Daniel’s neck.  A hot 0.50 caliber shell, ejected from the .50 caliber machine gun, landed there in between his body armor and his neck.  This scar was the result.

Boot camp was very hard (mentally hard).  School of Infantry was much harder, physically speaking.  Being in the “fleet” is the hardest of all (in every way).  So he loves to come home on the weekend.  God has blessed us, and we live close enough for Daniel to come home some weekends.  He loves to disconnect from the Marines, if only for two days.  In the picture below he is pontificating about something … I don’t recall what.  By the way, what in the world is this deal with wearing two T-shirts at the same time?  I will never understand that.  The top shirt has on it: CSYO — for Charlotte Symphony Youth Orchestra, that his brother gave him (who played in the symphony).  Two worlds collide: The U.S. Marines, and the Charlotte Symphony Youth Orchestra.

I am very worried.  As the time comes for him to deploy (early 2007), I will lean heavily on others and ask for daily prayers from my readers.  This will no doubt be a very difficult ride for me.

I have created a new category: Daniel.  I have introduced you to him before about the time of School of Infantry graduation.  I don’t know him as Private, or Smith, or as he knows himself — “grunt.”  I know him as my son, Daniel.

But he currently lives in a world of very difficult training and preparation, and he knows himself as “grunt.”  He is not a poag (person other than a grunt).  He is infantry … boots on the ground.  When the Marines go in, the ones who go in are the infantry.  The others, while important, provide support to the ones who are at the tip of the spear.  The Marine Corps infantry has the most dangerous job in the world (with all due respect to Alaskan Crab Fishermen).

Daniel lives in a world where they wake at 0200 hours, put on 40 pounds of body armor (18.14 kg) and 100 pound backpacks (45.4 kg) and “hump” (a very fast march, or walk) 20 miles (32.2 km).  They practice “stacks” and “room-clearing” in urban warfare simulations.  They get to sleep — sometimes — for a couple of hours per night when out in the field, only to wake and have to pull leeches off of each other.  It is difficult to sleep, though, with artillery going and jets overhead.  They train on every weapon that they might have to use, and are expected to be very good with their own weapon, the M16A2 or the M4.  If you look carefully, you will notice a scar on Daniel’s neck.  A hot 0.50 caliber shell, ejected from the .50 caliber machine gun, landed there in between his body armor and his neck.  This scar was the result.

Boot camp was very hard (mentally hard).  School of Infantry was much harder, physically speaking.  Being in the “fleet” is the hardest of all (in every way).  So he loves to come home on the weekend.  God has blessed us, and we live close enough for Daniel to come home some weekends.  He loves to disconnect from the Marines, if only for two days.  In the picture below he is pontificating about something … I don’t recall what.  By the way, what in the world is this deal with wearing two T-shirts at the same time?  I will never understand that.  The top shirt has on it: CSYO — for Charlotte Symphony Youth Orchestra, that his brother gave him (who played in the symphony).  Two worlds collide: The U.S. Marines, and the Charlotte Symphony Youth Orchestra.

I am very worried.  As the time comes for him to deploy (early 2007), I will lean heavily on others and ask for daily prayers from my readers.  This will no doubt be a very difficult ride for me.

This is a very moving tribute to our fighting men.  I am copying some of it below as a teaser for you to go to the link I am providing here to read the whole commentary. 

War, and all of its sacrifices, hit home.

Shame on me, I thought. My job puts me in a position where I have reams of information at my disposable on what’s happening in Iraq. We’re rapidly closing in on an unfortunate casualty figure since 9/11, when we’ll have lost more American lives fighting since the attack than we did on the day itself. Talk about terrible arithmetic. 

My father-in-law is a Vietnam veteran very active in veteran’s affairs. And yet only now had it really hit home. Only now, as I watched shoppers stroll comfortably in the air-conditioning, did it hit me in the gut.

[ … ]

And then I wondered about all the men and women who have come home with limbs missing, with the psychological scars war inevitably brings. We see them now, sweating in a Walter Reed rehab room. Running on their space-age titanium prosthetics, and biking across the country to raise money — reminding us at every turn of the spirit that drives this country.

But where will they be in 35 years, when youth has abandoned them and war is a distant memory for much of the country?

[ … ]

Later that night, after I’d read her stories and “lights out,” we whispered conspiratorially to each other in the dark of her room.  I have few memories prior to age four, and I often remind her, in those magic moments between parent and child, to remember special days and events.

“Alexa, remember the man we met today who gave you the American flag? The soldier?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she said. 

“Remember.”

From Arutz-Sheva:

Al-Zawahiri declared a Jihad (holy war) against Israel on behalf of the global Jihadist movement. “All the world is a battlefield open in front of us,” he said, rejecting the concept of an eventual cease-fire. “Oh Muslims everywhere, I call on you to fight and become martyrs in the war against the Zionists and the Crusaders…War with Israel does not depend on ceasefires. It is Jihad for sake of God and will last until our religion prevails from Spain to Iraq.