"There will be no true glory for our soldiers in Iraq until they are recognized not as victims, but as aggressive warriors."
--Bing West
No True Glory, a Frontline Account of the Battle for Fallujah
Bantam Books, 2005
Just yesterday, I received my copy of the book, No True Glory, which documents--from politicians to war-planners to officers to grunts--what took place over the course of a year and a half to secure the terrorist stronghold that was Fallujah.
I had ordered the book because my son's Marine unit took part in the November '04 Operation Phantom Fury to avenge the deaths of four American contractors--and dozens of Marines who had fought and died in an aborted mission to secure the city the previous April--and to drive out insurgents and take back the city, which had become a stronghold for Abu Musab al Zarkawi and his bloodthirsty gang.
It was my son's unit that took back the Blackwater Bridge (dubbed the "Brooklyn Bridge" in the book), from where the mutilated and burned bodies of the contractors had been hanged the previous spring. They also uncovered and destroyed torture chambers where Westen hostages had been beheaded, and discovered and destroyed huge weapons caches.
From street to street, house to house, room to room, my son and his fellow Marines fought, until every house in their path was cleared. Months later, they provided security to the Sunni citizens who had returned to Fallujah and wished to cast a vote in Iraq's first elections.
I have not yet had a chance to read all of Mr. West's book, which documents the most savage battle Marines have fought since Que Sahn in Vietnam, thus securing my own son's place in history, but I did cherry-pick sections dealing with his unit specifically, and read the concluding chapter. I'll finish the book soon.
I'd like to quote at greater length the section Bing West wrote about warriors:
"In World War II the Western press--believing in its cause--had extolled the Greatest Generation of Americans. The warriors who fought in Iraq would not be called the Greatest Generation, because America was divided about the cause for which they were dying. The focus of the press was upon individual deaths as tragedies.
"This was an incomplete portrayal. The fierce fighting at Fallujah attested to the stalwart nature of the American soldier. In The Illiad a warrior in the front ranks turned to his companion and said, 'Let us win glory for ourselves, or yield it to others.' For Greek warriors, there was no true glory if they were not remembered afterward in poem or in song. There will be no true glory for our soldiers in Iraq until they are recognized not as victims, but as aggressive warriors. Stories of their bravery deserved to be recorded and read by the next generation. Unsung, the noblest deeds will die."
In this blog I have often raged about the inept, inefficient, and just plain stupid way in which this war was launched and executed by the morons in Washington. I have stated flat-out that my son and nephew did not want to return for repeat deployments to Iraq and that, as the war drags on and on, have a harder and harder time understanding just what the hell they are doing there.
BUT MAKE NO MISTAKE ABOUT IT. I come from a family of distinguished warriors. More than most, I understand that the business of war is warring. And warriors go to war because that is what they do. It is their job.
Not all soldiers and Marines are necessarily warriors. It is said that for every infantry grunt out in the field, there are at least TEN support troops doing such things as providing food, driving trucks, managing supplies, and taking care of the paperwork of warfare.
There are high-ranking officers planning operations and junior-level officers overseeing those operations and taking part in them.
But for the infantry and the special forces, there is nothing like doing the very thing for which they trained. They are eager to do it, and proud when they have done their parts. If they are not permitted to take part in combat for whatever reason, they are frustrated, as was so beautifully spelled out in the book and movie, Jarhead.
For the better part of a generation--with the quick exception of the Gulf War (which I privately refer to as the "hundred-hour war")--this nation has been at peace. And yet, for centuries, young men have met their measure by going into the military and--to the ultimate--going to war.
A man does not know what he is made of until he is challenged, body and soul, by the very worst, most extreme circumstances he can face. If he meets that challenge, then for the rest of his life, he is secure in the knowledge that he stepped up, did his part, and has nothing to prove to anybody anywhere ever again--most of all, himself.
I have long believed that the proliferation of so-called "extreme" sports during the past decade or so came about because most young men do not any longer automatically go into the military, as their fathers and grandfathers might have done. They jump out of airplanes with a boogie-board strapped to their feet in order to prove to themselves that they're tough. It's that simple.
Because we have been at peace for a generation, I see a lot of military moms, especially those whose kids went into the military right out of high school and thus were never able to share the college experience with them--treating their kids' service much in the same way soccer moms cheer on their kids at games.
They often fill the house with Marine or Army memorabilia and volunteer with other parents to put together hundreds of care packages and slap so many yellow ribbons on their cars that you can hardly tell what color they are. This is not to say that they are not equally terrified for their children's safety--in fact, they are often so much more terrified than military moms and spouses because they don't understand the nature of warfare--that for every five minutes of hot action there are 12 hours of boredom.
But I have always understood that what my son and his buddies do is their job, and they do it better than anyone else in the world. Period.
After 9-11, when my son decided to enlist, he said something I never forgot: "I don't feel comfortable being one of the ones who needs protecting. I'd rather be one of the ones who protects."
He knew, too, that in a military family such as ours, he would meet the measure of manhood and earn lifelong respect.
SO…WHY DO I RAGE ABOUT THIS WAR WHEN I UNDERSTAND ALL THESE THINGS?
When my son first went to war, my sister warned me that I could not even THINK anti-war thoughts, because to do so would be undermining my son's effort.
Nonsense.
Soon after Dustin deployed to war, I contacted Col. David Hackworth who was, at the time, the most decorated war veteran alive. He had served in four different conflicts and taken home more medals than he could count. I asked him, point-blank, the following question:
Is it possible to love the warrior and hate the war?
I needed to know, from someone who had BEEN THERE, whether I was indeed doing or saying anything to harm my son. My son, you see, knows full well how I feel about the Iraq war, but he also knows that no one has ever been more supportive of him than his mom. Every week he gets funny cards and letters, most every week, care packages. When he calls home, he gets a laugh and warm love to wrap around himself on cold nights.
He is smart enough to realize that what I rage against is not him or his buddies--but those who send them into battle without first fully considering the consequences.
Ask anyone at the Pentagon, and they will tell you that the people most reluctant to go to war are warriors who have fought in previous conflicts. They know that it should always be a very last resort, because they know, only too well, the terrible, terrible price.
Col. Hackworth uncategorically agreed with me. He wrote, "There's the personal attack on anyone with a point of view that's different from the party line: You're un-American; or you're supporting the enemy or not supporting the troops. The latest tactic is to say you're sending out mixed messages that hurt troop morale.
"But according to our soldiers in Iraq, this is just not true. They say their morale is in the toilet because of how badly the war's been handled, not because of what's being reported or debated by politicians."
Col. Hackworth spent the last few decades of his life, after returning from Vietnam, doing everything in his power to shed light on the needs and genuine worries of our troops. He traveled to just about every hot zone our troops were in and reported back for Newsweek and other publications.
Even though "Hack," as he preferred to be called, passed away much too soon of cancer, I hope he knows how very much his words provided comfort to a terrified Marine mom in Texas.
He gave me courage to fight for the fighters, to use what weapons I have--in my case, the pen and computer--to draw attention to and to protest stupidity and gross negligence and the reprehensible tactic of using the war for political gain (on either side) whenever I see it.
Does it mean that I do not appreciate what my son and his buddies did in Fallujah? Absolutely not. Does it mean I'm somehow less proud of him, or that I somehow love my country less, because he's serving in a war I vehemently protest?
Well, if you seriously think that, I suggest you take it up with my son and my nephews. Go ahead. Look them in the face and give it your best shot.
See who they defend.
(For a change of pace, scroll on down for a new edition of Friday Funnies.)
--Bing West
No True Glory, a Frontline Account of the Battle for Fallujah
Bantam Books, 2005
Just yesterday, I received my copy of the book, No True Glory, which documents--from politicians to war-planners to officers to grunts--what took place over the course of a year and a half to secure the terrorist stronghold that was Fallujah.
I had ordered the book because my son's Marine unit took part in the November '04 Operation Phantom Fury to avenge the deaths of four American contractors--and dozens of Marines who had fought and died in an aborted mission to secure the city the previous April--and to drive out insurgents and take back the city, which had become a stronghold for Abu Musab al Zarkawi and his bloodthirsty gang.
It was my son's unit that took back the Blackwater Bridge (dubbed the "Brooklyn Bridge" in the book), from where the mutilated and burned bodies of the contractors had been hanged the previous spring. They also uncovered and destroyed torture chambers where Westen hostages had been beheaded, and discovered and destroyed huge weapons caches.
From street to street, house to house, room to room, my son and his fellow Marines fought, until every house in their path was cleared. Months later, they provided security to the Sunni citizens who had returned to Fallujah and wished to cast a vote in Iraq's first elections.
I have not yet had a chance to read all of Mr. West's book, which documents the most savage battle Marines have fought since Que Sahn in Vietnam, thus securing my own son's place in history, but I did cherry-pick sections dealing with his unit specifically, and read the concluding chapter. I'll finish the book soon.
I'd like to quote at greater length the section Bing West wrote about warriors:
"In World War II the Western press--believing in its cause--had extolled the Greatest Generation of Americans. The warriors who fought in Iraq would not be called the Greatest Generation, because America was divided about the cause for which they were dying. The focus of the press was upon individual deaths as tragedies.
"This was an incomplete portrayal. The fierce fighting at Fallujah attested to the stalwart nature of the American soldier. In The Illiad a warrior in the front ranks turned to his companion and said, 'Let us win glory for ourselves, or yield it to others.' For Greek warriors, there was no true glory if they were not remembered afterward in poem or in song. There will be no true glory for our soldiers in Iraq until they are recognized not as victims, but as aggressive warriors. Stories of their bravery deserved to be recorded and read by the next generation. Unsung, the noblest deeds will die."
In this blog I have often raged about the inept, inefficient, and just plain stupid way in which this war was launched and executed by the morons in Washington. I have stated flat-out that my son and nephew did not want to return for repeat deployments to Iraq and that, as the war drags on and on, have a harder and harder time understanding just what the hell they are doing there.
BUT MAKE NO MISTAKE ABOUT IT. I come from a family of distinguished warriors. More than most, I understand that the business of war is warring. And warriors go to war because that is what they do. It is their job.
Not all soldiers and Marines are necessarily warriors. It is said that for every infantry grunt out in the field, there are at least TEN support troops doing such things as providing food, driving trucks, managing supplies, and taking care of the paperwork of warfare.
There are high-ranking officers planning operations and junior-level officers overseeing those operations and taking part in them.
But for the infantry and the special forces, there is nothing like doing the very thing for which they trained. They are eager to do it, and proud when they have done their parts. If they are not permitted to take part in combat for whatever reason, they are frustrated, as was so beautifully spelled out in the book and movie, Jarhead.
For the better part of a generation--with the quick exception of the Gulf War (which I privately refer to as the "hundred-hour war")--this nation has been at peace. And yet, for centuries, young men have met their measure by going into the military and--to the ultimate--going to war.
A man does not know what he is made of until he is challenged, body and soul, by the very worst, most extreme circumstances he can face. If he meets that challenge, then for the rest of his life, he is secure in the knowledge that he stepped up, did his part, and has nothing to prove to anybody anywhere ever again--most of all, himself.
I have long believed that the proliferation of so-called "extreme" sports during the past decade or so came about because most young men do not any longer automatically go into the military, as their fathers and grandfathers might have done. They jump out of airplanes with a boogie-board strapped to their feet in order to prove to themselves that they're tough. It's that simple.
Because we have been at peace for a generation, I see a lot of military moms, especially those whose kids went into the military right out of high school and thus were never able to share the college experience with them--treating their kids' service much in the same way soccer moms cheer on their kids at games.
They often fill the house with Marine or Army memorabilia and volunteer with other parents to put together hundreds of care packages and slap so many yellow ribbons on their cars that you can hardly tell what color they are. This is not to say that they are not equally terrified for their children's safety--in fact, they are often so much more terrified than military moms and spouses because they don't understand the nature of warfare--that for every five minutes of hot action there are 12 hours of boredom.
But I have always understood that what my son and his buddies do is their job, and they do it better than anyone else in the world. Period.
After 9-11, when my son decided to enlist, he said something I never forgot: "I don't feel comfortable being one of the ones who needs protecting. I'd rather be one of the ones who protects."
He knew, too, that in a military family such as ours, he would meet the measure of manhood and earn lifelong respect.
SO…WHY DO I RAGE ABOUT THIS WAR WHEN I UNDERSTAND ALL THESE THINGS?
When my son first went to war, my sister warned me that I could not even THINK anti-war thoughts, because to do so would be undermining my son's effort.
Nonsense.
Soon after Dustin deployed to war, I contacted Col. David Hackworth who was, at the time, the most decorated war veteran alive. He had served in four different conflicts and taken home more medals than he could count. I asked him, point-blank, the following question:
Is it possible to love the warrior and hate the war?
I needed to know, from someone who had BEEN THERE, whether I was indeed doing or saying anything to harm my son. My son, you see, knows full well how I feel about the Iraq war, but he also knows that no one has ever been more supportive of him than his mom. Every week he gets funny cards and letters, most every week, care packages. When he calls home, he gets a laugh and warm love to wrap around himself on cold nights.
He is smart enough to realize that what I rage against is not him or his buddies--but those who send them into battle without first fully considering the consequences.
Ask anyone at the Pentagon, and they will tell you that the people most reluctant to go to war are warriors who have fought in previous conflicts. They know that it should always be a very last resort, because they know, only too well, the terrible, terrible price.
Col. Hackworth uncategorically agreed with me. He wrote, "There's the personal attack on anyone with a point of view that's different from the party line: You're un-American; or you're supporting the enemy or not supporting the troops. The latest tactic is to say you're sending out mixed messages that hurt troop morale.
"But according to our soldiers in Iraq, this is just not true. They say their morale is in the toilet because of how badly the war's been handled, not because of what's being reported or debated by politicians."
Col. Hackworth spent the last few decades of his life, after returning from Vietnam, doing everything in his power to shed light on the needs and genuine worries of our troops. He traveled to just about every hot zone our troops were in and reported back for Newsweek and other publications.
Even though "Hack," as he preferred to be called, passed away much too soon of cancer, I hope he knows how very much his words provided comfort to a terrified Marine mom in Texas.
He gave me courage to fight for the fighters, to use what weapons I have--in my case, the pen and computer--to draw attention to and to protest stupidity and gross negligence and the reprehensible tactic of using the war for political gain (on either side) whenever I see it.
Does it mean that I do not appreciate what my son and his buddies did in Fallujah? Absolutely not. Does it mean I'm somehow less proud of him, or that I somehow love my country less, because he's serving in a war I vehemently protest?
Well, if you seriously think that, I suggest you take it up with my son and my nephews. Go ahead. Look them in the face and give it your best shot.
See who they defend.
(For a change of pace, scroll on down for a new edition of Friday Funnies.)
posted by Deanie Mills at 9:12 AM
2 Comments:
Hi
Deanie,
I cried through the whole post. I am a terrified Marine mom in Texas too. I too protest this war, I just dont tell to many people. Recently my aunt sent me an email bashing the Clintons, now this is a favorite aunt and she is old. But the more I thought about it the angrier I got, so I sent some articles to her. I also sent her some info on what is really going on in Iraq, some from the reporters and some from what Ben his self told me. Her son is a 45 year old bum who lives at home and does nothing but get fired from numerous jobs. She is so gung ho about this war. I had enough and told her what its like to fear for my sons safety while her son smokes pot. I am tired, Im tired of being scared, Im tired of being terrified every time someone knocks on the door, or a car drives by.Im tired of reading another Marine or Soldier had died. I love Ben and every single Marine out there that does there job and does it well. Ben is a warrior and he loves doing what he was trained to do, but he is tired too, tired of the rain, tired of being shot at and mortared. He has shingles!! The man is 20 years old and has shingles due to stress. I know he volunteered for this job, but I damn sure didnt.
Jamie
God bless you, Bensmom Jamie. I was thinking of you when I wrote that post, and have been thinking about you every day--certainly every time I write about this miserable war.
You expressed exactly how I feel, my dear. "He volunteered but I didn't." And the thing about the way the Republicans sold this war was that, you are FOR us or AGAINST us, so that, if you hate the war, you hate our troops.
The whole country kind of let themselves be hypnotized by that mantra, I think. So that now, I know what you mean about people sending me all kinds of stuff that's gung-ho war because they assume that, having a Marine fighting it, I must be gung-ho for it too. I tell them flat-out: I HAVE MIXED EMOTIONS.
Dustin was proud of his service in Fallujah and he's proud to be a Marine, but he came home angry, just so angry. He was angry his entire post-deployment leave. Finally, the night before he left, he told his dad it was because he did not want to go back, that he was scared. His dad said, good, you SHOULD be scared. It will help to keep you alive.
But then, on his pre-deployment Christmas leave, he was angry again at knowing he was going to have to go back over there, and angry when he got there. His first letter said, "Well, I'm back in this crap-hole."
Now, I know that enlisted men throughout history have griped and bitched about their lowly lot in life. I understand that. But I also understand that this president has not asked for a SINGLE SACRIFICE from ANYONE in this country to support this war except for military families. The same ones. Over and over again. People GET IT, and recruitment is at an all-time low. They wave the flag while they hurry past the recruiting office.
He waves the flag whenever he can, but National Guard troops still have no health insurance when they are being shot at. What kind of patriotism is that? His budget slashes veteran's benefits, so those who come home maimed from HIS glorious war have to struggle to make ends meet.
So yeah, I'm with you. Her kid smokes pot while yours gets mortared and she says God bless America and you just want to shove the flag in her face.
I love my country, but God I hate this war.
Semper fi, my friend,
Deanie
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