Last week, with both celebration and regret, I turned Blue Platoon over to the hands of my replacement. My time with them has come to a close. The regret stems from the knowledge that I will not be there beside them for the trials they will doubtlessly face in the rest of this deployment and the fact that I will not be the one marching them back, safe and sound, to their loved ones in December. But I can celebrate that they are all currently safe and sound, confident of their abilities, sure of their mission, and led by a man whose philosophy is not very different from my own. He will push them when they slow down, drive them forward when they lose direction, and remind them of our mission to improve the lives of the people of this country by other-than-terminal means. This is also a phenomenal opportunity for him to learn about himself as a leader and a person; I suppose I shouldn’t begrudge other lieutenants the opportunities I have enjoyed just to satisfy my pride.
My time in my new position has allowed me the luxury of retrospection and introspection and afforded me the opportunity to take stock of our accomplishments at this juncture. We are half-way through the deployment. Blue Platoon conducted 146 combat patrols in the city under my leadership. We took contact directly 15 times, meaning that 10% of our patrols resulted in combat. We were present for or immediately adjacent to other units (Coalition and Iraqi) taking contact another 10% of the time. Blue Platoon initiated projects to remove trash heaps in three neighborhoods, install lights on two major roads, fortify four ISF checkpoints, repair two water mains, pave over three stretches of road, provide over 2,000 packets of food supplies to needy families, supply two badly-needed generators, and employ hundreds of people in our sector. We provided for the renovation of four schools, one medical facility, one power plant, and two parks. We detained dozens of suspected insurgents, terminated a few more, trained our ISF counterparts to the best of our abilities, and saved two of their lives with emergency medical care. Blue Platoon has done well, and I am immensely proud to have been here with them. When I arrived at my unit, I was told to prepare myself for an immense task. Blue was the worst platoon in the company, my commander informed me, plagued with drug abuse, insubordination, and poor, inexperienced leadership. By the time I left, Blue Platoon was praised as the one platoon in the company that had risen to the challenge of the new necessities of counter-insurgency; we spent two hours to every one of our colleagues’ on the ground. We initiated three times as many civil projects. We detained and killed more enemy than any other platoon in the company. I am hesitant to take credit for any of this; Blue Platoon was always full of untapped potential. They just had to reach into themselves and find it. I hope that, in some small way, my leadership contributed to the circumstances in which they ultimately found and utilized that potential. Regardless, it was an incredibly rewarding experience just to witness the profound change that occurred in the men I’ve had the honor of serving beside. And to whatever degree I may have influenced a change in them, I know beyond any doubt that they have impacted a deep change in me.
Our final tally of losses, I’m proud to say, is none. No one in Blue was physically wounded or killed during my tenure. There are decisions I wish I could have remade, moments I wish I could have altered, but I am fortunate that none of those decisions will haunt me for the rest of my life. Whatever deaths are on my conscience, I am forever grateful that none of them were the men entrusted to my care. The unseen and unquantifiable psychological effects may be another story, however, and it is with regret that I count among our casualties PFC Timidity, now in a mental facility, and the marriages of SPC Spanky and SSG Lark. The trauma witnessed in the course of the deployment and the trauma of having a loved one constantly in harm’s way was ultimately more than some could and should be asked to bear. I only hope that all three of those men, and all of the men in Blue, can return to a home where they finally feel loved, secured, and safe. I wish them all many years of boredom. They’ve earned it.
I’ve spent the last week familiarizing myself with my new position—my “promotion”—as Battle Captain. I moved from Bulldog Company to Hawk Company—appropriately named, I joke, because suddenly I find myself high above the fight. My days are now spent on a regular schedule in a large leather chair in the middle of what I can only describe as the bridge of the USS Enterprise. I have six large monitors cocooning me while I recline in my air conditioning, drinking my coffee and eating the hot chow delivered to me from the DFAC, being bombarded with imagery and constant reports about which platoon is operating in which space, where the helicopters are moving, what the drones are reporting, ad nauseam. I have people ringing the room around me, buried in their own terminals, and I call out instructions to air, fire support, communications, et cetera, the whole time feeling ridiculously like Captain Kirk. Due to the nature of my job, my entries in this journal will necessarily have to be much more vague and generalized. My focus is going to shift from the daily trials and tribulations of the Boys in Blue to a more general commentary on our progress in this city and, ultimately, this war. We are now a month away from what we are wryly referring to as AVID: Arbitrary Victory in Iraq Day. The rest of the world may only think of it as 30 June, but soon it shall be memorialized beside V-E Day and Armistice Day as a date of vast importance. On 30 June, the Americans will defeat the insurgency. Seriously. Doesn’t matter what happens, we’re declaring victory. This is, as my father pointed out, actually a strategy of surprising wisdom. Vietnam could have been a lot less painful if we just cut our losses one day and declared victory. We could stick around and try to force our will on the proceedings, but quite frankly, the Iraqis are eager to show that they are capable of independent government and self-protection and our presence is only drawing foreign fighters into the region. Let them have a go at it, and good riddance. I think we’ve all had our share of explosions, and we’ve all learned some fascinating things about the nature of combustibility. I no longer wish to amuse myself by speculating on which common household items will vaporize, which ones will fragment, and how either scenario will play out on the human body. Iraq, good luck. You’ll find us in Afghanistan if you need us.
This is not to imply that we’re in the clear. There are a number of pre-existing analogies, but I’ll use one more fitting to our situation: most of the attacks hit you right when you’re on the last stretch to home. Things are turning very interesting on some fronts that I’m not really at liberty to discuss. Historically close allies of ours are seeing the writing on the wall and are taking advantage of our last months and what remains of the government’s instability to push their demands to the front, and they are blatantly seeking military confrontation in order to do it. If they manage to start a shooting war, we may be powerless to intervene. Do we even want to?
Blue Platoon may be behind me, but we still have mountains to move in front of us. Hopefully only metaphorically. I’ll update this journal from time to time with their progress, but for now I’m enjoying a vacation. Twelve-hour shifts in an air-conditioned room, sitting comfortably, I am able to relax with the knowledge that I am not directly responsible for anyone. I don’t have to sweat their financial or marital situations. I don’t develop ulcers worrying about squad deployment, vehicular movement, or sectors of fire. I can sleep easily when explosions resound in the night: not my shift, not my problem. I am no longer always an hour away from a firefight, anticipating the call to arms at midnight or the frantic preparations just as I sit down to dinner.
I wish I could be there beside them when we come home, but there comes a time in all career progressions when one has to embrace new challenges and new opportunities. I learned an incredible amount from my experience. I did what I came here to do, I saw what I needed to see, I tested my resolve under fire and was not embarrassed by my reactions. Now it’s time for another man to have those opportunities. As always, keep Blue Platoon in your prayers—they certainly remain in mine. But scratch my name and add a new lieutenant to your list, an intelligent, capable, dedicated man who understands our real mission here, and pray that he may find only success in his endeavors. If we accomplish (or re-accomplish) the mission now, it will be through his efforts and the efforts of all the men on the line. They’re in your hands now, buddy. Bring them all home.
