I can still hear my father’s voice as he lectured me on the proper role of a man in this life. Not well educated, he was well-experienced. He had learned a few lessons that were valuable to him. They represented the hard, cold truth in his mind, and he was determined to share these gems with his oldest son. I now refer to all these speeches as the “no kind of man” speeches. “No kind of man makes a commitment to a friend and breaks his word. Do you hear me, no kind of man,” he would say. “Look a man in the eyes and take his hand firmly when you shake his hand, let him know you are an honorable man of character,” he often said. He coached me on every aspect of life from the simple to the sublime, but always there was that same theme: What kind of man are you? Do you tell the truth? Do you stand by your word? Can you be counted on?
On matters of race relations: “No kind of man lets another man tell him what to think about other people. People are like you find them. People who say that all people of this color or from that place are the same are ignorant. That’s right, ignorant. No kind of man gives in to that. You make your own decisions about who people are – who your friends are. Then you stand by your decisions,” he would say. On matters of sexual relations: “I won’t tell you what to do about sex with your girlfriends, but I will tell you this, if you get a woman pregnant, you stand behind your actions. You do what is right by her. If you want, and I have seen men lie and run away, you are no kind of man, and everyone in the community will know it. They will have no respect for you. I will have no respect for you. No kind of man would do that. You just think about that before you act,” he said. And, I did think about it. I thought about all the things he said. In the worst of times, I would remember that he had taught me that a man does not allow other people to tell him what his value is. That’s right, no kind of man. An honorable man figures out what the truth is and follows that light – as my father saw it, this was the most important mission of every man, woman, and child.
My dad was from a family of 15 children. He and two of his brothers served during the Korean War. Like so many large families from back in the mountains of Virginia, they were very patriotic. I had been raised to believe in military service. I can remember my Dad’s brothers telling me that every man should pull a tour in the military. “Pull a tour and never regret it,” they would say.
Although my Dad could not afford it, from a very early age, he told me that I would go to college. He did not know how I would do it, but he told me that I would. My earliest memory of this is of him taking me for a walk out to the ridge to a vantage point that looked down on the valleys and across the mountains. I thought I was in trouble for something. But, when we got to the point he was looking for, he told me to look down this way. He then turned and told me to look down the other way. Then he said, “there is nothing here for you. Everything is taken. You will leave these mountains. You will go to college.” He turned and walked away. I stood there trying to realize what had just happened. But for sure, from that day forward, I was figuring out how I was going to college.
As people do, I figured out how to go to Virginia Tech. Nestled in the mountains, it was a beautiful campus. I loved college. It was a protected world seemingly under a dome. You could learn, you could make new, interesting friends and you could prepare for life. I felt so very lucky to be there.
I met my sweet Lisa at college. I had seen her in high school. She was a junior varsity (JV) cheerleader. I thought that JV cheerleader was going to grow up to be quite the beauty. And she certainly did. She seemed to be everything my life was missing. I did not think life could possibly get any better.
As much fun, and as rewarding as college was, it came to a close. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do next. But one thought kept coming back to me, “pull a tour and never regret it.” A person was supposed to serve their country. It was an act of citizenship. I had no idea what I was getting into.
A college graduate gets a lot of attention in basic training. In those days the drill sergeants were Vietnam Veterans. The rules were much more loose than today. Verbal abuse and physical contact were common, accepted. They did everything they could to give you the stress you would find in combat. I gave my all to the challenge.
I can still hear my father’s voice as he lectured me on the proper role of a man in this life. Not well educated, he was well-experienced. He had learned a few lessons that were valuable to him. They represented the hard, cold truth in his mind, and he was determined to share these gems with his oldest son. I now refer to all these speeches as the “no kind of man” speeches. “No kind of man makes a commitment to a friend and breaks his word. Do you hear me, no kind of man,” he would say. “Look a man in the eyes and take his hand firmly when you shake his hand, let him know you are an honorable man of character,” he often said. He coached me on every aspect of life from the simple to the sublime, but always there was that same theme: What kind of man are you? Do you tell the truth? Do you stand by your word? Can you be counted on?
On matters of race relations: “No kind of man lets another man tell him what to think about other people. People are like you find them. People who say that all people of this color or from that place are the same are ignorant. That’s right, ignorant. No kind of man gives in to that. You make your own decisions about who people are – who your friends are. Then you stand by your decisions,” he would say. On matters of sexual relations: “I won’t tell you what to do about sex with your girlfriends, but I will tell you this, if you get a woman pregnant, you stand behind your actions. You do what is right by her. If you want, and I have seen men lie and run away, you are no kind of man, and everyone in the community will know it. They will have no respect for you. I will have no respect for you. No kind of man would do that. You just think about that before you act,” he said. And, I did think about it. I thought about all the things he said. In the worst of times, I would remember that he had taught me that a man does not allow other people to tell him what his value is. That’s right, no kind of man. An honorable man figures out what the truth is and follows that light – as my father saw it, this was the most important mission of every man, woman, and child.
My dad was from a family of 15 children. He and two of his brothers served during the Korean War. Like so many large families from back in the mountains of Virginia, they were very patriotic. I had been raised to believe in military service. I can remember my Dad’s brothers telling me that every man should pull a tour in the military. “Pull a tour and never regret it,” they would say.
Although my Dad could not afford it, from a very early age, he told me that I would go to college. He did not know how I would do it, but he told me that I would. My earliest memory of this is of him taking me for a walk out to the ridge to a vantage point that looked down on the valleys and across the mountains. I thought I was in trouble for something. But, when we got to the point he was looking for, he told me to look down this way. He then turned and told me to look down the other way. Then he said, “there is nothing here for you. Everything is taken. You will leave these mountains. You will go to college.” He turned and walked away. I stood there trying to realize what had just happened. But for sure, from that day forward, I was figuring out how I was going to college.
As people do, I figured out how to go to Virginia Tech. Nestled in the mountains, it was a beautiful campus. I loved college. It was a protected world seemingly under a dome. You could learn, you could make new, interesting friends and you could prepare for life. I felt so very lucky to be there.
I met my sweet Lisa at college. I had seen her in high school. She was a junior varsity (JV) cheerleader. I thought that JV cheerleader was going to grow up to be quite the beauty. And she certainly did. She seemed to be everything my life was missing. I did not think life could possibly get any better.
As much fun, and as rewarding as college was, it came to a close. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do next. But one thought kept coming back to me, “pull a tour and never regret it.” A person was supposed to serve their country. It was an act of citizenship. I had no idea what I was getting into.
A college graduate gets a lot of attention in basic training. In those days the drill sergeants were Vietnam Veterans. The rules were much more loose than today. Verbal abuse and physical contact were common, accepted. They did everything they could to give you the stress you would find in combat. I gave my all to the challenge.
Because I had the highest physical training (PT) score in the company, I wore an arm band with PT on in. Because the drill sergeants had put me in charge of our platoon, I wore an arm band with the platoon name on it. They derisively referred to me as “drill slick.” Walking around with two arm bands on, I received a lot of attention. I could hardly walk by a drill sergeant without being put down for pushups. I became more proficient in pushups than I thought humanly possible. With every aspect of the training, I gave it my all. It is what a man should do, I would think. No kind of man would do otherwise.
As a result of my effort, I was selected Trainee of the Cycle. One day, the head drill sergeant called me into his office. This was a man who yelled obscenities at me whenever I saw him. I was expecting a ripping for something the platoon had done. Uncharacteristically, he was very calm. He told me that he had trained over 2,000 trainees and that I was by far the best. He wanted me to know that the drill sergeants had gone to the company commander and put in a letter of recommendation for me to go to Officer Candidate School (OCS). He wanted me to know that he expected me to go to OCS. He even said that upon my graduation, he would be proud to serve under me. I was completely awestruck. He had never spoken to me like that before. I did not know how to react. But, then he saved me by going back into character and yelling, “Now get the —- out of my office.” Suddenly feeling much more comfortable, I came to attention and did an about face and did exactly what he said.
I would get married as a Private First Class. My sweet Lisa thought I had potential. I made it through OCS, another challenge in those days, and went to Fort Sill, OK, for training in the artillery. A tour is a tour, I thought. I will be the first officer in my family, and I will pull my tour as an officer. Also, I was just married. The promotion seemed more important now. Maybe there would be a special opportunity for service, I wondered.
I had no idea what I had started. The Army would become so much more than a job. In time, my life of service would take on its own meaning. Service in the military would become my religion. I could not break the faith.
Seeking the Moral High Ground
Reflections on Operation Iraqi Freedom
By now, it seems that I have been involved in the Iraq War for a lifetime. The year I spent as a brigade commander in Iraq was life-changing in itself. But when I returned home from Iraq to a tour in Washington, I had no idea that things would look so different. I had no idea that I would find another war in our Nation’s capital. Across time, I followed the war in the news, inside the Pentagon, and through my friends in Iraq – both American soldiers and Iraqi nationals. Each passing episode held its own meaning – its own revelation. As I finished my military career, I looked back on my experience in Iraq, and I wondered, what was the truth? What should we have done? Where is the moral high ground?
The answers seemed both elusive and palpable at once. As this story begins, I had no idea – nor did the rest of America – that we were about to depart on this journey. It was even longer before I realized what it was that we were looking for. Even now, the truth would hardly satisfy the shared pain. Our best hope is that we can learn something that will help us in the future. We want desperately to believe that people can learn. That we can grow. That we can change.
When the world stopped turning…
September 11th, 2001, was a quiet, still, beautiful morning at Ft. Sill, OK. I had just finished my physical training (PT) – a nice long run along one of the forested trails. I had cleaned up, gotten into uniform, and was about to leave the house when Lisa called to me down the long hallway that led to the front door. Standing in the doorway to our kitchen, she looked startled. “I just heard on the radio that a plane flew into the Trade Center in New York City. They are investigating whether or not it was an accident,” she said. I was standing at the foot of the staircase, about to go out the front door. Our eyes met as I turned to go down the hall. Lisa looked worried. I was, too.
An accident, I thought, as I headed out the front door for a scheduled meeting with the installation chief of staff in the main post headquarters building. As I drove past the giant flagpole with its immense American flag, I thought about my studies at the Navy War College the year prior. I distinctly remembered an article by a national security expert who had described a possible terrorist attack upon the World Trade Center – involving an airplane. Could it be? As I entered the chief of staff’s office, his television was showing live coverage of the towers. As the chief assembled everyone at his conference table, we were preoccupied with the scene on the TV. As we prepared to sit down, the second plane flew into the tower. There was absolute silence. The meaning of this event spoke so very powerfully for itself. At once, we all knew that nothing would ever be the same. We were at war.
In the Beginning
Visit to Graefenwohr – Rehearsal for War
Across my nearly 30-year career, the goal was to get ready for combat – the defense of our great Nation. As a young enlisted man, I was tutored by the veterans of the Vietnam War. They, all young men, seemed so old and sage at the time. Across the history of the modern Army, I prepared myself for the next great war. There were always the residing questions: Would you be prepared to make the hard decisions? Would you be able to deal with the emotional consequences?
At the end of my military career, there was a war coming. It might have been a good time to move on, personally, but it was not the right time professionally. I was in line to take a brigade. Leaving before the war did not feel right. It was not an option. I had prepared my whole adult life for this responsibility. I would not shirk it.
While serving as the Deputy Commanding Officer of III Corps Artillery, I waited to take command of the 17th Field Artillery Brigade. I also waited to take this brigade to war. To serve my Country in combat was a great honor, an honor that came with much responsibility. Hardly a day passed that I did not weigh this responsibility. I would wake in the night and lie awake planning the preparation.
During my change of command ceremony to assume the 17th FAB, I looked out on the troops and thought how young they looked – how innocent. Little did they know that we would soon prepare to depart for war. We would represent the largest formation to deploy from Ft. Sill since the Vietnam War. As I trooped the line in that ceremony, I felt such a strong connection to each of them. I said a prayer as I marched. I wanted so much to bring them all home.
The “Visit to Grafenwohr” represented the last major preparation for the deployment. It was only a matter of time. The call forward would soon come. After such a long military career, it was somehow surreal to see my old friends at Graf’ in these circumstances. We had grown up together in the Army. In my eyes, we had not aged. We were the same kids who embarked on a noble adventure decades before.
This poem speaks to the range of emotion that presented itself to me during this experience. To a large extent, it focuses on my relationship with Lisa. She too had been waiting for this war a long time. Her support to our Soldiers and their families had been sublime. If I was about to be tested, so was she. A true “iron maiden,” she did not show weakness. Her commitment to me was as strong as my commitment to the cause. This type of love is heaven sent. It cannot be earned.
VISIT TO GRAEFENWOHR
Goodbye again
just a little trip
see you soon
the unspoken salutation a curious contradiction
Her sad knowing eyes speak volumes
about Love, commitment, and trust
She will not break the silence
She knows – what She must not embrace
Her eyes have never been more beautiful to me
their story, more sweet
We are joined in spirit
We travel together
through the dark, into the light
Making my way with a trusted aide
I cross the ocean
to visit old friends
to talk new business
A warm reunion
for a special guild
an extended family
the Praetorian Guard
So long in the saddle
although, yet young men
now, old soldiers all
We know each other’s faces
we are encouraged by each other’s company
once together, we bask in the trust
“May you live in interesting times”
the old Chinese curse
seems to hang above our door
Luminaries speak of uncertainty
but, Thucydides, standing in stark anonymity, would differ
He would say
necessity
always reins
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