This is, by necessity, a long post. It is a story to honor those who have braved combat, and displayed great courage. Please read it through, and then tell others about it.

Somewhere in a box, I have a picture. It is three elementary school children and a blonde German Shepard-Elkhound mix puppy standing next to a monument. The picture was taken in 1962 or 63, and it is my two sisters and I, and our dog, Scooter.

All of that is important, and it’s not. What is not as important is how my life has been intertwined with the name cast on the brass plate, and what is is the bigger story, the story of how that name came to be placed on the monument.

As I sat down to gather the links, I re-read the Medal of Honor citiation. It covered a period from April 29th through May 21st. One some web pages, the day of this man’s most significant action, is listed as May 5th, 1945, which, was a Saturday, by the way. Hang on to that fact, you’ll need it by the end of the post.

The monument was then, the day of the picture of my sisters and I, located near a sugar cane field on the island of Okinawa. It was there my father told us a story of an Army Medic by the name of Corporal Desmond T. Doss, who distinguished himself (that day) by climbing an escarpment, repeatedly, venturing out onto a machine gun fire swept battle field of open, relatively flat ground, to recover his fellow soldiers, and lower them down the escarpment to safety. A brave man indeed, but he was braver still, in the context of then, and even today than those key points describe.

Desmond T. Doss is (he is still living) a 7th Day Adventist. This Christian denomination does not believe in the taking of life. Desmond Doss could have easily avoided service in WWII. Because of his upbrining and personal faithfulness, a request for CO status would have, most likely, been granted without question. Yet, Desmond T. Doss joined the Army, not to kill, but to save lives.

This quote discussed the character of a man, being vilified for his faith by those he served with:

So what do you do with a soldier who won’t train on Saturday, eat meat, or carry a gun or bayonet? Doss’ commanding officer knew what to do. Paperwork was initiated to declare him unstable, a miss-fit, and wash him out of military service with a Section-8 discharge as “unsuitable for military service.” But Doss wanted to serve his country, he just refused to kill. He performed all of his other duties with dedication, was an exemplary a soldier in every other way. At his hearing he told the board, “I’d be a very poor Christian if I accepted a discharge implying that I was mentally off because of my religion. I’m sorry, gentlemen, but I can’t accept that kind of a discharge.” So the Army was “stuck” with Desmond Doss.

Desmond’s story has been put into a book, The Unlikeliest Hero by
Booten Herdon, and a movie, The
Conscientious Objector.

This site Home of Heros has the details of this story, and many others. Desmond’s story begins here.

Desmond Doss saved lives at Guam in July 1944, then at Leyte in the Philippines in Oct 1944, and Okinawa in Apr-May 1945 while assigned to the 77th Infantry Division, 307th Medical Detachment.

At the amphibious assault at Leyte, here’s an account of what happened:

Time after time at Leyte Doss braved enemy fire to go to the wounded, and to remove them to safety. Once he darted into the open to treat and rescue a wounded man even while the area was alive with sniper fire. From a distance his fellow soldiers watched in horror as a Japanese sniper leveled his rifle at the fearless medic. Because of the sniper’s position they could not return fire for fear of injuring some of their own. Doss treated the wounded man, evacuated him to the rear, and returned to his position. One of the sergeants told him, “Doss, we expected to see you killed any second. We couldn’t shoot the sniper without killing our own men, and he had his machine gun aimed right at you. Didn’t you see him?”

And, read this, which came to light many years after the war:

Years later a missionary in Japan related the story of Doss’ brush with death that day. After the service a Japanese man in the back of the room told one of the deacons, “That could very well have been me. I was there, and I remember having a soldier in my gun site, but I couldn’t pull the trigger.” Doss not only survived Leyte, for his repeated heroism he was awarded the Bronze Star Medal. So as Corporal Doss stood before the men of Company B at the base of the Maeda Escarpment on Okinawa, they were beginning to believe in the prayers of the medic whose only weapon was his Bible.

Sounds to me like God’s protection….

The time leading directly to his winning of the MOH begins with this actual quote from Lt Goronto, as his unit was about to take the Maeda Escarpment, a 400 ft high sheer cliff:

“Fellows, come over here and gather around. Doss wants to pray for us.”

He did, and on that first assault, while Alfa Company was being chewed up by the Japanses, Bravo had taken about 8-9 enemy emplacements, with only one wounded soldier. That was the 29th of April.

Here’s the story of the results of the after action report:

The next day a follow-up inquiry was made to determine how Company B had accomplished the miraculous assault on the Maeda Escarpment without a single casualty. A photographer arrived to take a picture and Lieutenant Goronto sent Desmond to the top to pose. (The photo at right is the US Army photo taken that day, and Desmond Doss is the man at the top.) As far back as Army headquarters in the States, everyone asked how Company B had pulled it off. No one could find a reasonable explanation. Finally, with no other way to conclude the report, the official answer was filed…all the way back to the United States. The official answer:

“Doss prayed!”

Another miracle.

The fighting continued, and on May 5th, it got bloody for Bravo Company.

On May 5th the tide of battle turned against the Americans. Enemy artillery, mortars and machinegun fire began to rake into the ranks of Company B, 77th Infantry Division. Japanese soldiers swarmed out of their foxholes and caves in every direction. Almost immediately 75 men fell wounded, and the remaining men were forced to fall back and retreat to the base of the escarpment. The only soldiers remaining at the top of the cliff were the wounded, the Japanese, and Desmond T. Doss.

Heedless of the shells that burst around him and the bullets directed his way, Desmond tended his injured comrades. At the base of the escarpment those few soldiers who had managed to escape the onslaught could only sit helplessly by and hear the sounds of the battle as the wounded struggled to survive atop the cliff. And then…amazingly…a wounded soldier appeared over the face of the escarpment. Dangling from a rope, he slowly descended to the safety of its base as a tall medic fed the rope through his hands from the summit. First one, then another, and another….and another. Heedless of the advancing Japanese, Desmond Doss went about the work of sending the wounded to safety. Reports of that day tell of Japanese advancing with rifles and bayonets to within a few feet of the medic, slowly lowering his men to safety, before one of the wounded could kill the enemy before they shot Doss.

For five hours Doss lowered soldier after soldier down the face of the escarpment, using little more than a tree stump to wind the top edge of the rope around. Throughout the five hours Desmond had only one thought. He prayed, “Lord, help me get one more. Just ONE more!” How many men Doss saved that day, only God knows. One hundred and fifty-five soldiers went up the escarpment that day, and only 55 were able to retreat without assistance. The Army determined the conscious objector who had almost been court martialed or discharged as unfit for military service, had saved 100 lives. “Couldn’t be,” Desmond had replied. It couldn’t have been more than 50. I wouldn’t have had the time to save 100 men.” In deference to Desmond’s humble estimate, when the citation for his Medal of Honor was written, they “split the difference”, crediting the intrepid soldier with saving 75 fellow soldiers.

More miracles, about 100 men being rescued for a start, but this lone medic, slaving away to save the wounded, ending the fierce battle unscathed.

In the ensuing days, Cpl Doss continued to save the men he served with, and was wounded himself. He tended to his own wounds and directed other wounded be cared for before himself.

Read the rest of the story here and here.

And through it all, when he got to the hospital ship, and found he was missing the Bible his wife had given him, he had word sent to his unit on the beach, to let them know he had lost this precious “weapon.” Desmond Doss was awarded the Medal of Honor by President Roosevelt. When he returned hom after the ceremony, there was something waiting for him:

At home another surprise awaited the young man. His men hadn’t forgotten the brave medic or his love for the Word of God. The message about “Doss’ Bible” had been delivered. Incredibly, the men who once mocked the Godly Seventh-Day Adventist who would not compromise, had returned to the Maeda Escarpment with a new mission and purpose. After soundly defeating the Japanese they fanned out across the rocky terrain and conducted a search until they found, and mailed home, Desmond’s Bible.

Near the beginning of this post, I asked you to hang onto the fact that May 5th was a Saturday. The 7th Day Adventists continue to keep the original Jewish Sabbath on Saturday, unlike other Christian denominations that use Sunday as the Sabbath. Desmond Doss was saving many lives on the Sabbath he observed.

Desmond Doss remains active in his Church near Lookout Mountain in Rising Fawn, Georgia. I plan to make a trip up there soon to meet this man, who does what so few others seem to be able to do: Live by a moral code, regardless of the ridcule of others, and to steadfastly love his “neighbor” as he would love himself.

I can only guess this is the first story I heard about the coveted Congressional Medal of Honor, as a 3rd grader on an island far out in the Pacific Ocean. It took me years to see that the story of Desmond Doss is a reflection of Jesus Christ on earth, which is the story I missed until a few years ago.

In reflecting on not only this “connection” in my life, I also lived on Guam a few years later, and while I was in the Navy, I served aboard a ship named for a sailor, GM Paul Carr, who died aboard USS SAMUEL B. ROBERTS (DE-413) on Oct 25th, 1944 at the Battle Off Samar, while the outnumbered and out gunned task force of “Taffy 3” kept a Japanese battle force from breaking through and wiping out the Army troops ashore at Leyte, where Desmond Doss had landed. I can hang onto Psalm 139:16 as a result of this study.

While researching this material, I found the Army has made a specialized pack for the “Combat Live Savers” (CLS) personnel, and have named the M3A Pack in honor of Desmond Doss.

There stood the Captain, the XO, the OOD, and a whole bunch of others, looking over the starboard bridge wing at the drone in the water, a few yards from the hull of the ship.

Rewind to the morning of that day in the northern Puerto Rican “OPAREA.” We were in the Caribbean to pump fuel and deliver stores to the “real” ships, who were down there exercising the equipment that differentiated them from being merchant hulls. We have a detachment from Fleet Composite Squadron Six (VC-6) embarked to provide drone target services.

The VC-6 guys loved using us as a launch platform. MILWAUKEE (AOR-2) had a big flight deck aft, designed to support two CH-46 cargo helicopters for VERTREP (vertical replenishment – more on this in some future post). There were two cavernous hangers for the “birds” built into the after superstructure, plenty of room to stage the drones on their launch platforms. They could set up the drones for launch in an area free of the elements, and with plenty of lighting in the pre-dawn period. When the operations were to begin, they rolled up the doors and wheeled the set up drones out to the deck edge, wired them up and they were ready to go.

They also loved to set up their control station in my helo control tower. Once more, it was enclosed, with three big windows, and an elevated, commanding view of the flight deck and aft of the ship. They flew the drones by watching an x-y plotter that dead reckoned the flight path of the drones. They would mark the plotting surface with the planned formation of shooters, so they could guide the drone over the ship getting its run. The drones launched with small rockets from the frame that held them and were on their way. It was pretty cool to hang out on the flight deck, between launches, and watch the tin cans lined up astern, pounding out VT-NF 5”/54 rounds at the inbound targets.

The plan for the day was to sequentially launch drones all day long, as each one reached fuel exhaustion and had the chute deployment commanded, the next one left the deck. My crew in Combat Information Center (CIC), under the watchful eyes of OSC “Mac,” would plot the splash point of each drone, so we could send the helo out to retrieve them at the end of the exercise. Being pretty new at all of this, I recall he used an overlay for the maneuvering board with a “Z” on it. I wish I could remember the name of the method, but is was an “old school” search and rescue plotting method. I do remember this: When the shooters smartly hauled off when the last target splashed, Chief Mac’s plotting drove the recovery platform to all six of them, regardless of the fact some had been floating out there for about 6 hours.

The VC-6 crew cleared their gear off the deck and an H-46 was rolled out for launch. They had the “wet crewman” (Search and Rescue Swimmer) aboard, and a long pendant to be used to attach to the hook on the top of the drone, so they could lift it and then deposit it back on the flight deck. The OS Helo Direction Controller in CIC vectored the H-46 to first drone and the Captain requested a course to one of the other drones. Off we steered to one of the orange unmanned vehicles.

Now I’m caught up. Wide angle shot from the pilot house door at the multitude of personnel of the bridge watch team and the CO and XO leaning over the bulwark, some 50 feet above the ocean surface at this thing floating right next to us. Cut to the helo, about a half mile away, hovering so close to the water, that the wheels were almost touching the surface, with a mist of blowing sea water enveloping the chopper. You can see the movement of the pendant off the rear ramp, as the crew, invisible at this distance, due to the mist and shadowed interior of the helo, thrashed about, trying to snag the hook of the drone without much success.

Since the helo crew had their job somewhat under control and sunset coming in the not too distant time frame, we once again peer over the bridge wing. Finally, the CO rhetorically asks “How are we going to get that?” After about 10 seconds of silence, I say “I will!” All eyes pan my direction. “I have my snorkeling gear in my stateroom” I volunteer. The idea takes hold. I also look up at the Signal Bridge and ask if one of the SMs (who was a swimmer) wanted to go. He said “yes,” and the Captain directed the crew to man the whaleboat. I took off and grabbed my gear, pulling on my pair of “UDTs” and headed to the starboard boat davit. We lowered the boat, drove the short distance to the drone. The signalman and I rolled over the side and attached a line from the whaleboat to the drone. Once the line was secured to a set of bits, we swam over and each grabbed a wing, while the motor whaleboat pulled the drone over to a position under the boat boom. We connected the hook to the drone and up it went.

We had just shown how we could pretty much double up on drone recovery, get one with the helo, and one with the ship. In short order we had the 6 drones back aboard to be flushed out and prepped for future launches. Over the next few weeks, I got to recover a number of drones. Not only was it a fun break from watch standing, this happened in February, while our spouses and children were going through one of the coldest winters Norfolk, VA had had in quite some time.

The water temperature was a bathtub warm 85 degrees, and so clear that I could see the entire bottom of the ship from about a ¼ mile away. The ship drew 40’ of draft when loaded and was 659’ long. The water depth was 12,000’ and it was incredible to look down in the water, seeing the sun’s rays being swallowed by the dark blue way below the surface. In all my formal “swim calls” during this operation, I only saw one fish, which was a very large sun fish that had come to inspect one of the drones. There were no sharks around, or anything else.

We steamed back into Norfolk on March 1st, during a snow storm. It was quite a contrast from the Caribbean. Actually, the snow wasn’t such a bad deal compared to the dirty looks we got from our families because we had really nice sun tans…..

What can I say? Someone had to do it…

I had the honor of spending yesterday afternoon with a man who was a part of the last naval battle: The Battle Off Samar. I blogged about this battle here on the 60th anniversary of the battle.

Richard Rohde was a radioman aboard the USS SAMUEL B ROBERTS (DE-413) on Oct 25th, 1944. The battle is well documented in Last Stand of the Tin Can Sailors” by James Hornfischer.

Imagine running at full speed towards the YAMATO, all 68,000 tons, in a 1745 ton destroyer escort. It’s somewhat of a skewed battle, taking 2 5″/38 caliber guns up against 9 18.1″ guns.

The battle is the last naval battle to have taken place, and it was a fierce one. Dick was there, and was wounded, and then suffered throught two days in the shark infested waters off Leyte Gulf before being rescued. He graciously spent almost 5 hours with me, sharing some stories, and listening to a few of mine, and it’s amazing how so much of Navy life is still the same.

One man killed that day aboard the “Sammie B” was Paul Henry Carr. I was XO aboard USS CARR (FFG-52), which is what has made the opportunity to meet Dick a special occassion, as I have heard something of Paul, who won the Silver Star for his heroism that day and to get a sense of the battle that day.

It was a great way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

Part XII – “Red Blood or Red Ink”

Index to the Series:
Part I: Initiative, marketing, sales, project planning and program management skills
Part II: Auditing Skills
Part III: Operations 24/7/365
Part IV: “Point Papers”
Part V: Collateral Duties
Part VI: The “Git ‘er done!” Factor
Part VII: “Total Care”
Part VIII: Communications in the Workplace
Part IX: “Give a smart person with potential a chance”
Part X: Process Engineering, Continuous Improvement, Total Quality Management, Total Quality Leadership, or what ever you call it. The bottom line title: Making “it” better
Part XI: The Military’s Supply System
Part XII: “Red Blood or Red Ink”
Part XIII: Constructive Plagiarism

This is probably an original way to portray what I’ll comment on below. It’s been running around in my head for a few years now, and this seems to be the right time to roll it out.

Think jeopardy. What’s the difference between warfare and business? Bingo. One is a more gentile form of the other, but in each case, the goal is to take something from the other party, and make it yours. What’s the difference between Wal-Mart moving in, with the local hardware, toy and grocery stores taking a significant, if not financially fatal “hit,” and Hitler moving into Poland? I think you can’t argue that there is a fundamental difference here.

It’s all about competition. It’s about figuring out your enemy/competitor’s weakness and exploiting it to your gain. Certainly one venue is far more radical, and in many cases, far more final. Particularly for those service members who have been able to attend one of the National or international service colleges, this is a daily exercised skill, and therefore, a part of their thought processes.

The curriculums of the war colleges focus on building better warfighters, at the upper levels. The degrees awarded are in the Strategic Studies arena at the Master’s level. The almost universally studied texts is “On War” by Carl von Clausewitz. The other classic is “The Ancient Art of War” by Sun Tzu. These writings are studies in how people operate in the most extreme climes of competition, that of armed conflict.

Reduce this to the business environment and what you have is people who subconsciously know what to look for when you ask them to figure out how to increase market share, or how to take over, or penetrate a market. To them, it’s just second nature to mentally construct an operational concept, that will form the “battle plan.”

Not only will they formulate the concept, they will have had practice in drafting the operational plan and then communicating it to the office/sales force staff.

Think about it. How many business seminars have you been to where some tremendously successful business person stand before you and they reference some great philosophy that is directly derived from a great warrior? Why shouldn’t they, it’s the same concept at work.

Back in Dec, the story emerged from Iraq about a little Iraqi girl, who sat in an intersection, clutching a stuffed toy (a present from the US, distributed by our Marines in the area). When the convoy stopped and the Gunny Sargent got out to talk to her, she pointed to a mine. Matt at Black Five was the one who posted the story.

As a result of this unusual occurance being promulgated about the blogosphere, many reporters contact Matt for more info. He indicated he had to delay passing on any specifics, unitl the permission came from the unit where the story began. Only one editorialist had enough respect to respect the word of a retired Army Officer, and waited patiently to get the story, and to get it right.

Tim Chavez wrote and editorial on the time when a little girl had the courage to save lives of the Marines, all because some people had a heart to help a new nation in the midst of their suffering how ever they could. In this case, it was all some people could do, and they did it. They sent stuffed toys to the Marines to hand out.

Tim gets it right: Love wins over hate. Take the time to read his editorial yourself, you won’t be disappointed.

Do you think you can’t help? Can you find a Wal-Mart or Toys-R-Us nearby and part with maybe $15 or $20 of your wages to make a differnet world? If you can do that, you can help in the commission of random acts of kindness.

Got to this link at Black Five and Matt has posted an address of the Marine responsible for receiving the toys. In the meantime, understand that Staff Sgt Tranchitella has plenty of warrior “stuff” to keep up with in his life, just to make sure he comes home in one piece. This type of activity falls under the “collateral duties” arena, which is code for “there’s more to do than people to do it, so here’s more for you.” In this case, I’m sure the Marines glady trade some of their personal time to handle the flow of toys. Make a difference in history and part with a few $$$$!

I’m a computer game fan. I’ve played plenty of flight simulators and first person shooters over a few decades. The more realistic the simulation, the happier I am. I like as real as it can get.

Now, a “your tax dollars at work story.” In the Mid-90’s I was sent to a command where we were maintaining various computer programs, mostly all for Navy combatant (Crusiers, destroyers and frigates). We also had some tasking for development of new programs, but that wasn’t the main mission of the command. We had 60 military and 300 civil servants working there.

One of the projects that was in development, different from the vast array of ones being maintained was Battle Force Tactical Trainer (BFTT). The goal of this program was to allow ships, planes, submarines and shore bases to run realistic training scenarios. It was a unique project for its time, as the program manager had a the foresight to find out what other developed, or in development, programs were around that contained parts that could be woven together in order to save funds by not re-inventing the wheel, as it were. That was unusual at the time, as program managers for just about anything else being developed, jealously guarded their developments, and their funds, being afraid that they would have to admit a weakness in their organization, if they couldn’t do it themselves. I’m also convinced that they were scared that if they showed some of the working details, someone else may tell them (or worse yet show them) a better way, which would make them not look all knowledgeable.

Anyhow, BFTT was an ambitious project, in funding and schedule, and I watched, at close range, some incredible innovation to make it happen. The project has been absorbed at the joint level, so all services can share in the technology development, and subsequently, save lots of money (and that’s a good thing that has been done for us taxpayers, in the name of reason). The BFTT was essentially a central control system, that would interface with simulators and real equipment to present a coherent picture to operators, so their reactions would be properly developed. In this scheme, units could be connected via the Defense Simulation Internet (DSI) and live radio signals, while BFTT managed the responses of the many training modules, imbedded in various systems.

The way information was conveyed between units was via data “packets” which were in the Distributed Information System (DIS) format. The “packet” would define an entity in the battle space, to include the characteristics to allow the training systems portray it properly to the operators. An entity could be a .50 caliber machine gun bullet, a Nimitz Class Aircraft Carrier, or a SCUD missile. The idea was to put sufficient information in a format that a sensor display would show the operator what he may see if the entity would have been real.

Pretty innovative, and complex engineering went into this, all in the name of creating a virtual reality to train war fighters. Somehow, and I’m not sure how the connection came to be, the console game developers caught wind of the work the Department of Defense was doing in this “virtual reality” modeling. Since they were also trying to replicate the real world in their game consoles and computer games, they ended up at the DIS protocol meetings and became active players in helping design the standards for the DIS data packets.

This interaction between game developers and the military training simulating community has helped to provide us with the richness of the games we see in the Xbox, Play Stations and PCs today. The military training is superior as a result as well, resulting in tremendous reduction in training costs, and an increase in realism.

To take the synergism a bit further, after I completed the tour with the software development command, I reported to the Navy Operational Test Force, where the mission was to design and run test programs to make sure the top level procurement programs had in fact created systems that did what the military contracted them to do. As systems were becoming more complex, and budgets getting tighter, I walked into the early stages of the development of the use of modeling and simulation to verify equipment met the design specifications. The prior work of the BFTT and associated training programs became a building block to leverage from to help move more testing from the real world ranges to the internals of computers, at a quality to assure systems worked.

The next time you load up your simulation games, know some far sighted military and civil servants helped put your tax dollars to use to make your games really rock.

In Part 1, I laid a foundation for what I see going on around the world from us…

The restructuring of the American Military gave us a connection, as a society to the warfighter/warfighting. In Iraq, it is now doing a third, most likely unintended benefit: With the mix of reservisits and National Guardsman who are operating far from home, they are able to share with the local population a variety of skills required for a nation not at war.

Nation building, done by those prepared for war. Pretty cool. I just don’t believe anyone in the planning in the 70’s and 80’s foresaw this.

I’ve seen stories about a Guard lawyer who was tasked to help draft the Iraqi Constitution. There are stories of police officers, reservisits and Guard, who are working with the local fledging law enforement organizations, bringing them modern techniques and tactics. I’m sure there are countless stories that we will never hear, where someone’s full time profession in the States, was used to assist in either social or business dimensions in Iraq and Afghanistan.

The Military personnel of this Nation have done us proud. They have set up schools, women’s centers, parks and playgrounds. They have engaged the local populations in their sport of choice (soccer) and I read one story where a unit sent home asking for old bats, gloves and balls to set up a Little League league. Instead, they got all new equipment to hand over the Iraqi children to teach them baseball. Units have handed out school supplies, sent by a foundation set up by actor Gary Sinese. A multitude of other items have been sent from the US and donated to the children. In Afghanistan, one Army Soldier (Regular Army, but with a heart of gold), collected shoes to distribute. I could go on, but you get the point. As with the tsnami disaster, the American population opened it’s wallets to do something we can because of our prosperity: give from our excess.

The Iraqis and Afghanis who have benefited from these personal relationships, with our men and women who gave of themselves, and helped funnel even more compassion from our citizens who could not be there, will forever be changed. I’d venture for the good.

This war, while maybe no different than the times of rebuilding Europe and Japan after WWII (which I must admit, I have not taken the time yet to see if there are parallels to this topic), it certainly will reap benefits in a more peaceful part of the world in years to come…and that’s good for everyone, both here and there.

I wrote an earlier post on the winning of hearts and minds, and it included some information about some small “nation building” efforts at the village level by some Marines. There was also some references to the way the composition of the makeup of regular versus reserve/national guard units was modified in the period between Vietnam and Gulf War I.

This afternoon, I was toying with the thought that something very unique is going on a half a world east of me, but I believe it is more off cycle, that I hope becomes a trend.

My basic thought is we have, quite by accident, built a military well suited to nation building. The concept of the re-mixing of logistics to combat unit ratios between active duty and the “citizen soldier” components after Vietnam is described by Col. Harry Summers, Jr. in “On Strategy: Gulf War.” Harry describes how the middle grade combat leaders from that War moved into assignments where they had the opportunity to recompose how we manned our armed forces, to ensure they, and their juniors marched to the next war with “the will of the people” in their corner.

The concept of having an active duty organization that could march quickly into battle, but only for short periods, needed rapid augmentation by reserve and National Guard units right away, if there was a sustained conflict. “Round out” units, such as the 2/263rd Armored Battalion from the South Carolina National Guard would provide the 3rd battalion to bring the 2nd Armored Division to full strength. Military police, engineer, chemical and quartermaster corps units would have to come along to provide vital logistical and combat support functions. People in these units would be your banker, lawyer, sheriff, hardware store owners, etc, from cities and towns all across the nation. In other words, just about every one of us would have a personal connection to someone who would be sent out in the name of the people of this United States. It was, quite frankly, pure genius. This concept was to solve a problem real warfighters in the late 60’s and 70‘s had to contend with. From their pain and anguish, a plan was conceived and executed.

Not only was this idea right on target to tie our military to the general civilian population for support for a war, it has the added, and I would argue, subconscious, benefit of placing a “governor “ on the emotions of this Nation. The mere fact we may consider entering our military into a conflict, they are not as they were during the Vietnam era, a sub-class of people who were poor or too stupid to hold a real job, but they are who we live alongside. It was too easy to emotionally discard the people who defended us when they were drafted into service. With this new force makeup, it is our sons and daughters, sisters and brothers, friends and neighbors at stake. If the cause is important, we will acquiesce to their deployment, and most unfortunately, the death and injury to some of them. Conversely, if that’s too great a risk for what is at stake, then our voices will be raised in protest.

In Gulf War I, the designed benefit of connection to the will of the people played out. “We” went forward and pushed an invader out of a sovereign nation. Not only did the country rally behind the troops, when some of them were killed by “friendly fire” (most people who have been in combat will argue that there is no such thing- any fire is unfriendly when it’s coming at you!) It was the public sentiment that helped spur on the budgeting and development of better communications and identification equipment and procedures.

I’ll stop here, and soon post my analysis of an added, third benefit of this force structure I’m sure wasn’t foreseen decades ago, as this plan was forming.

Part II is here.

While reading something on Matt’s blog recently, he commented about taking the time to send a letter to the troops. While I’m sure it was being done before my experience in 1986, I found myself at the other end of a big letter writing campaign. Here’s my after action report:

I’m not sure if this story is about the real beginnings of Operation Dear Abby, but I believe it is. The purpose of this post is to use some history to give you some first hand accounts of the impact of letters from all over America have on our troops, and, quite honestly, to help you make a decision (for you fence sitters) to take the time to get out pen and paper and to communicate with those at the “pointy end of the spear.”

Sometime in mid to early 1985, an enterprising and forward looking sailor stationed aboard USS BIDDLE (CG-34), wrote a letter to Abigail Van Buren (Dear Abby) and asked if she would ask her readers to write to “any sailor” while our Battle Group was on deployment to the North Arabian Sea from Oct, 1985 through Apri1, 1986. This certainly was before the days of extensive access to the internet in the US, so “the word” would have to he passed by more conventional means. From my understanding, Abby checked with the Pentagon to make sure this would be acceptable to publish and (the obivious) answer was “yes.”

Fast forward about 9 months. We had left our east coast ports, sailed to Singapore, and then made an early return to the “Med,” in January, 1984, due to the belligerent stance taken by Col. Khaddafi. By April, we had conducted several “freedom of navigation” operations and had engaged Libyan surface slips in combat. Then the letters started to come.

Sometime about early April, mountains, as compared to the normal flow of mail, I’m not exaggerating, began to be delivered to the USS CORAL SEA Battle Group, addressed to “Any Sailor.” My staff was embarked aboard BIDDLE at the time, and when the logistic runs by helicopter from the Carrier came each day, we would get 3-4 large orange mailbags of just this mail. The bags would be taken to an area near the front of the mess deck, and left for all to dig through as time permitted. Believe me, we made time for this.

I’ll say this: It was better than Christmas, and all we were getting was letters from ”home.” It was special and mail, the hard copy kind, hand written stuff is/was always wonderful to receive from your real relatives, but this stuff was outstanding because all types of people from all over took a few moments of their lives to write to us; faceless, nameless service members floating about on haze grey vessels half a world away. I can’t put into words the elation these pieces of paper provided to so many of us.

We read them, passed around the ones we liked, and many sailors wrote back, I know at least a few sailors even met some of the writers. I recall letters from veterans, housewives, an airline pilot, school kids and even a few from some women inmates in the Florida Correctional system. The “thank yours” were numerous, but many included just plain old “slices of life” from the hearts and souls of American citizens, giving as a glimpse of their days.

These letters were a special gift and lifted the spirits of many. If your ever wonder if just taking a moment to share a little of your life with someone in the service is worth the effort, the answer from someone on the other end, is a resounding “it sure is!”

I know after we were released from the theatre, after a 3 week extension to bomb Libya in May, 1986, the continuous, massive amounts of mail were delivered to the Battle Groups left in the Med, and I suspect it got distributed widely about the Fleets in all oceans.

For my part, thank you to those who may have written back then, but today, especially to anyone who has been doing the same sort of thing for our service members. You are making a difference, and, as then, I know your seemingly small efforts are tremendously appreciated by the men and women far from home.

On this Veterans Day in 2004, I just thought I’d take a minute to say to those of you who have paid taxes anytime between August 1972 through now. For those of you who will be doing that for the next maybe 20 years, you have my thanks in advance for honoring my service with your income taxes.

I sincerely appreciate the money you entrusted to the Federal coffers that was a main paycheck for a career, and is now a retirement one.

Over the course of 24 years of time spent making a commitment to actively support and defend the Constitution of these United States, you have gracefully allowed me to:

Sail the oceans of the world, somethimes in fast combatants, sometimes in supply ships and once on an aircraft carrier;

Cavort with the clouds in jet fighters;

Fine tune my skills as an expert rifleman and pistol shot;

Jump out of “perfectly good” military aircraft for fun;

Play with things that go “WHOOSH!” and “BANG!” way better than that stuff you get to play with from the corner fireworks stand;

Study for one bachelor and two masters degrees;

Mediate on the wonders of nature in the starry skies at night, far from city lights, and to watch the dolphins gracefully play on the bow waves of warships, far out to sea;

Serve under incredible leadership;

Lead this country’s youth (and sometimes not so young, but “my” sailors none the less);

Meet people from all continents and represent you as Americans.

On my spare time, I have benefited from many facilities around the country, where I and my family could relax and enjoy life while on vacation.

The pay wasn’t enough to get me on the list next to Bill Gates, but it afforded a family of four with a comfortable lifestyle, with some left over. People have expressed their thanks and gratitude for my service, but I am equally taken that this nation is still full of those who will continue to support a Military worthy of itself.

Yes, it was hard some days. Yes, the family suffered. Yes, my life and theirs was enriched by the opportunities. Yes, I’d not trade the experienences for anything. Yes, it’s not lost on me that some paid those taxes, and would have preferred I wasn’t employed in that manner, but they gave the money to the Government anyhow.

So, in return, I humbly appreciate your service to me. Thank you!