I received a note back from Aaron Cohen today. He had not seen the Amazon large print note. It should read 'hard cover'...and may change on the site by the time you read this. Nevertheless, his book, Brotherhood of Warriors, will be out April 29th. Unfortunately, since I'll still be here in Iraq, I won't be able to attend his upcoming book party in LA. He said Gen. Tommy Franks (ret.), who lent a quote for the back cover, should be in attendance.
I've missed birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, and now the great opportunity to meet Tommy Franks!
...At any rate, I should be with my sweetheart and children soon.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Books I'd Recommend
A friend of mine, Mac Epps, wrote a wonderful book I read before coming to Iraq. As a former CIA counterterrorism official, he most definitely has the qualifications for Terrorism and Personal Security: Reduce Your Chances of Becoming a Target. The book is perfect for the international traveler. All Western companies that have personnel or facilities in foreign lands should buy this book for their employees. The vignettes that accompany the suggestions are enlightening.
I've written about Dalton Fury in this blog a couple of times. At one point he put the link to one of my blogs about him on his website. The former Delta Force, counterterrorism officer and troop commander, was chasing down the world's number one terrorist in the mountains of Afghanistan right after 9/11. Kill bin Laden: A Delta Force Commander's Account of the Hunt for the World's Most Wanted Man, can be preordered. It's due out this fall.
Brotherhood of Warriors: Behind Enemy Lines with a Commando in One of the World's Most Elite Counterterrorism Units. The link goes to Large Print. Not sure why. Aaron Cohen and I have been in close contact for a while. He was the Israeli equivalent of the U.S. Army's Delta Force. He's often see on Fox News, CNN and others. He owns a business in LA protecting celebrities now. After the Virginia Tech shootings he was on television speaking about police tactics. He called and we spoke in length about it.
Unfortunately, school shootings are all too common. Dave Grossman and I conversed not long ago via email. Dave is the foremost expert on school shootings and agression. His website is found at http://www.killology.com/, a term he coined.
A couple of years ago, at the beginning of the 34-day Israel-Lebanon war, I was at a counterterrorism conference with my friends from http://www.swatdigest.com/. If I had cell phone coverage, I would have gotten the message that I was needed to fly overseas and help provide security for the hundreds of Americans living in Lebanon, who were fleeing. On the news I remember seeing U.S. Ambassador Jeffrey Feldman. He's one of the greatest guys I've ever met in the federal government.
Anyway, while at the CT conference, I met and heard from John Giduck, author of Terror at Beslan: A Russian Tragedy With Lesson's for American Schools. John knows, more than anyone else, the risk of terrorists attacking schools in the United States. We are not prepared to do what must be done. We cannot fight terrorists conventionally.
It was through my friends at http://www.swatdigest.com/ that I met Lisa Lockwood, a motivational speaker and the author of Undercover Angel: From Beauty Queen to SWAT Team...A True Story. Lisa is a kind and well-balanced person. She understands human nature and is an exceptional communicator. She has her priorities in order and fights for things that are good and worthwhile, like stopping domestic violence, sexual abuse and crimes against children.
Dr. Nancy Kobrin will change history. I have read and have become familiar with dozens of books and philosophies on Islamic terrorism. When I was introduced to Dr. Kobrin several years ago through a mutual friend, I quickly became impressed at her theories. Her forthcoming book The Sheikh's New Clothes: The Naked Truth About Islamic Suicide Terrorism, was abruptly pulled from publication by Looseleaf Law after the Pope's comments at Regensburg due to fear of Radical Islamist violence. She has now found a new publisher, The Center for the Study of Political Islam, which will be bringing the book out in 2008. Her work is being used by U.S. Central Command and has been referred to in the Jerusalem Post. Dr. Kobrin has presented at NATO and has taught law enforcement, US Army, USAF, the Madrid police (in Spanish) , Sri Lankan law enforcement and military. She has presented at the Interdisciplinary Center for Counter Terrorism, Herzliya, Israel. Her writings can be found at http://www.frongpagemag.com/ and www.geradts.com/anil/ij/vol_008_no_002/main.html.
Finally, but definitely not last, one of the best books I have ever read in my life was written by a friend of mine, Jeff Evans, an exceptional motivational speaker and storyteller. He led the world's first blind man to the summit of Mount Everest. His book, Mountain Vision: Lessons Beyond the Summit, is a collection of priceless stories of personal and team triumph, hope, courage and selfless service. It's a must read for everyone, everywhere.
I've written about Dalton Fury in this blog a couple of times. At one point he put the link to one of my blogs about him on his website. The former Delta Force, counterterrorism officer and troop commander, was chasing down the world's number one terrorist in the mountains of Afghanistan right after 9/11. Kill bin Laden: A Delta Force Commander's Account of the Hunt for the World's Most Wanted Man, can be preordered. It's due out this fall.
Brotherhood of Warriors: Behind Enemy Lines with a Commando in One of the World's Most Elite Counterterrorism Units. The link goes to Large Print. Not sure why. Aaron Cohen and I have been in close contact for a while. He was the Israeli equivalent of the U.S. Army's Delta Force. He's often see on Fox News, CNN and others. He owns a business in LA protecting celebrities now. After the Virginia Tech shootings he was on television speaking about police tactics. He called and we spoke in length about it.
Unfortunately, school shootings are all too common. Dave Grossman and I conversed not long ago via email. Dave is the foremost expert on school shootings and agression. His website is found at http://www.killology.com/, a term he coined.
A couple of years ago, at the beginning of the 34-day Israel-Lebanon war, I was at a counterterrorism conference with my friends from http://www.swatdigest.com/. If I had cell phone coverage, I would have gotten the message that I was needed to fly overseas and help provide security for the hundreds of Americans living in Lebanon, who were fleeing. On the news I remember seeing U.S. Ambassador Jeffrey Feldman. He's one of the greatest guys I've ever met in the federal government.
Anyway, while at the CT conference, I met and heard from John Giduck, author of Terror at Beslan: A Russian Tragedy With Lesson's for American Schools. John knows, more than anyone else, the risk of terrorists attacking schools in the United States. We are not prepared to do what must be done. We cannot fight terrorists conventionally.
It was through my friends at http://www.swatdigest.com/ that I met Lisa Lockwood, a motivational speaker and the author of Undercover Angel: From Beauty Queen to SWAT Team...A True Story. Lisa is a kind and well-balanced person. She understands human nature and is an exceptional communicator. She has her priorities in order and fights for things that are good and worthwhile, like stopping domestic violence, sexual abuse and crimes against children.
Dr. Nancy Kobrin will change history. I have read and have become familiar with dozens of books and philosophies on Islamic terrorism. When I was introduced to Dr. Kobrin several years ago through a mutual friend, I quickly became impressed at her theories. Her forthcoming book The Sheikh's New Clothes: The Naked Truth About Islamic Suicide Terrorism, was abruptly pulled from publication by Looseleaf Law after the Pope's comments at Regensburg due to fear of Radical Islamist violence. She has now found a new publisher, The Center for the Study of Political Islam, which will be bringing the book out in 2008. Her work is being used by U.S. Central Command and has been referred to in the Jerusalem Post. Dr. Kobrin has presented at NATO and has taught law enforcement, US Army, USAF, the Madrid police (in Spanish) , Sri Lankan law enforcement and military. She has presented at the Interdisciplinary Center for Counter Terrorism, Herzliya, Israel. Her writings can be found at http://www.frongpagemag.com/ and www.geradts.com/anil/ij/vol_008_no_002/main.html.
Finally, but definitely not last, one of the best books I have ever read in my life was written by a friend of mine, Jeff Evans, an exceptional motivational speaker and storyteller. He led the world's first blind man to the summit of Mount Everest. His book, Mountain Vision: Lessons Beyond the Summit, is a collection of priceless stories of personal and team triumph, hope, courage and selfless service. It's a must read for everyone, everywhere.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
American Airlines Cancels Hundreds of Flights
I only caught the headlines on the TV in the chow hall, but I thought I heard that American Airlines grounded all their MD-80s.
I wish I had more time to comment on the latest aviation fiasco/fiascos. From a security stand point, so much more could be done to protect our airports and airlines -- our families and friends who fly! Security disasters, even of a relative mild nature, comparatively speaking, would affect the airline industry, and subsequently the economy, in a drastic and significant way.
I'm not one to 'cry wolf' and put people into panic-survival mode except for when I see one coming. And, NOW is the time to urgently make changes in the Transportation Security Administration, to include the Department of Homeland Security and the Federal Air Marshal Service.
See also Trigger Happy Pilot's Bullet Pierced Cockpit Wall.
I wish I had more time to comment on the latest aviation fiasco/fiascos. From a security stand point, so much more could be done to protect our airports and airlines -- our families and friends who fly! Security disasters, even of a relative mild nature, comparatively speaking, would affect the airline industry, and subsequently the economy, in a drastic and significant way.
I'm not one to 'cry wolf' and put people into panic-survival mode except for when I see one coming. And, NOW is the time to urgently make changes in the Transportation Security Administration, to include the Department of Homeland Security and the Federal Air Marshal Service.
See also Trigger Happy Pilot's Bullet Pierced Cockpit Wall.
The Reason Why I'm Here
I believe that we can be put in situations where we can do a lot of good. We also should seek for opportunities to do good no matter our situation. In the pathways of our complex lives, occasionally we are enlightened in that we see or understand why we were brought to a certain place or asked to do a certain thing. Ever since a good man named Kevin, who was a stranger to me at the time, suggested that I needed to go to Iraq to stop something from happening or start something important, I believed what he said and I have been looking for that ever since.
This week I finally figured it out, and I did something that has changed -- or will yet change -- the lives of many others for good for their foreseeable future. I was anxious to share that with Kevin before I mentioned it to anyone else.
This week I finally figured it out, and I did something that has changed -- or will yet change -- the lives of many others for good for their foreseeable future. I was anxious to share that with Kevin before I mentioned it to anyone else.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
CNN and Air Marshals -- Wish I could Watch This!
The Air Marshal Segment on CNNwas rescheduled for tonight
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
http://www.cnn. com/CNN/Programs /anderson. cooper.360/
10:00 p.m. Eastern Time
9:00 p.m. Central Time
8:00 p.m. Mountain Time
7:00 p.m. Pacific Time
or check your local listing here:
http://www.cnn. com/CNN/Programs /
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
http://www.cnn. com/CNN/Programs /anderson. cooper.360/
10:00 p.m. Eastern Time
9:00 p.m. Central Time
8:00 p.m. Mountain Time
7:00 p.m. Pacific Time
or check your local listing here:
http://www.cnn. com/CNN/Programs /
My Future
Not long ago I told my wife on our short phone conversation that I have learned more and have developed more as a person in the last several months than I ever could have living in America with the comforts of home and hearth. I feel wonderfully blessed for all of the opportunities I've been afforded. I am a better man for having faced these trials and struggles, and seeing others face them as well. Now, I am better qualified to help serve my family, my extended family, those in my church and community. I am grateful and exceedingly glad.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
My Personal Witness of Jesus Christ
Nearly two millennia ago about 600 miles west of where I stand, the Son of God gave his life as a ransom for all mankind. He died so that others would live.
I testify that Jesus is the Living Son of the Living God. I proclaim with the prophets that he was and is the promised Messiah, the Emmanuel, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace. He lives. He overcame death. The tomb was empty on that Easter morn. He conquered death. And because he arose, all will live again -- all will overcome death. O death where is thy sting, O grave where is thy victory?
At this annual Easter season, I give my personal witness to you that I know, with a sure and perfect knowledge, that Jesus is the Christ, the Savior and Redeemer of mankind. I know he lives. I know it.
To learn more visit www.JesusChrist.lds.org, or The Living Christ: The Testimony of the Apostles.
I testify that Jesus is the Living Son of the Living God. I proclaim with the prophets that he was and is the promised Messiah, the Emmanuel, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace. He lives. He overcame death. The tomb was empty on that Easter morn. He conquered death. And because he arose, all will live again -- all will overcome death. O death where is thy sting, O grave where is thy victory?
At this annual Easter season, I give my personal witness to you that I know, with a sure and perfect knowledge, that Jesus is the Christ, the Savior and Redeemer of mankind. I know he lives. I know it.
To learn more visit www.JesusChrist.lds.org, or The Living Christ: The Testimony of the Apostles.
Bad News
This morning we learned that a soldier in our sister unit committed suicide last night. I will pray for the soldier's family, friends and loved ones. For those who have never had a close friend kill themselves, I can personally attest that it is a terrible and devastating experience.
Friday, March 21, 2008
If You're Blue...
A good friend and fellow Captain pulled me to the side yesterday. He said he wanted to tell me what his mother had often told him -- that there is a purpose to everything. My friend, who works as a middle school teacher back home and is suffering terribly too, emphasized that perhaps we weren't here at all for ourselves but to help other soldiers here. He gave some examples.
I thought his words were inspired. It reminded me to stop thinking of my own worries and look for opportunities to serve.
At age 19 when I began a two-year volunteer mission for my church, someone related the following poem to me:
If you're blue
Find something to do
For someone who
Is sadder than you.
This morning I awoke with great comfort and peace. It's a new day and it's up to me to decide to be happy and to choose my attitude -- to accentuate the positive.
At some point this morning I thought of Viktor Frankl who suffered the worst deprivations and humiliations in a Nazi prison death camp. He survived to write:
We who lived in concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread. They may have been few in number, but they offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way. (Man’s Search for Meaning, 1959, p. 86.)
Those are words to live by.
I thought his words were inspired. It reminded me to stop thinking of my own worries and look for opportunities to serve.
At age 19 when I began a two-year volunteer mission for my church, someone related the following poem to me:
If you're blue
Find something to do
For someone who
Is sadder than you.
This morning I awoke with great comfort and peace. It's a new day and it's up to me to decide to be happy and to choose my attitude -- to accentuate the positive.
At some point this morning I thought of Viktor Frankl who suffered the worst deprivations and humiliations in a Nazi prison death camp. He survived to write:
We who lived in concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread. They may have been few in number, but they offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way. (Man’s Search for Meaning, 1959, p. 86.)
Those are words to live by.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Purple Heart
"Our Gunner's down and he's bleeding from the head!" The shout out over the radio made every heart drop. One of the soldiers in the turret (or hole in the roof) of the last vehicle in the convoy received a blast from a hand grenade someone threw.
I spoke with him today after he was seen by the medics. He stood there holding the scratched glasses that saved his eye sight. He had a Band-Aid over his right temple and was smiling. I couldn't help but think of the comment a good-hearted NCO said of him earlier this morning when he called up the report to higher headquarters. Although he didn't know who the soldier was at the time, he said nonchalantly, "Yeah, one of our guys took some shrapnel to the face, but it's okay, I know the guy and he wasn't that good looking to begin with."
"So," I said to the solider, smiling a little myself while thinking of the comment I had heard earlier, "did you shoot the guy who tried to kill you?" I knew he hadn't, but I wanted to ask anyway.
"No sir," he replied. "I had blood trickling down into my eyes and I couldn't see," he said, still smiling and happy to be alive.
"Well," I said with a big smile, "at least you get a Purple Heart," and I smacked him on the shoulder and winked.
I spoke with him today after he was seen by the medics. He stood there holding the scratched glasses that saved his eye sight. He had a Band-Aid over his right temple and was smiling. I couldn't help but think of the comment a good-hearted NCO said of him earlier this morning when he called up the report to higher headquarters. Although he didn't know who the soldier was at the time, he said nonchalantly, "Yeah, one of our guys took some shrapnel to the face, but it's okay, I know the guy and he wasn't that good looking to begin with."
"So," I said to the solider, smiling a little myself while thinking of the comment I had heard earlier, "did you shoot the guy who tried to kill you?" I knew he hadn't, but I wanted to ask anyway.
"No sir," he replied. "I had blood trickling down into my eyes and I couldn't see," he said, still smiling and happy to be alive.
"Well," I said with a big smile, "at least you get a Purple Heart," and I smacked him on the shoulder and winked.
Self Mastery
Over the past several days I've seen two soldiers break down in tears at the stress. NCOs and officers alike have been on edge. Contention is thick. It's a terrible feeling to live and work in such a whirlwind of negativity and abuse. I can empathize even more with those who've been in abusive relationships.
Over the past year I've seen others carry heavy burdens. I feel the weight on my shoulders as well. I've seen grown men cry and I've seen them out of control with rage and anger. A few days ago an officer choked an NCO. It took five people to pull him off. Tempers flare, voices are raised, terrible words are flung. Egos are too often unchecked, and authority is abused. Too often we fight amongst ourselves. I've worked in a team handling tense situations before, and it shouldn't be this way. Some people need to be fired...or voted off the island.
Soldiers have come to me with serious personal and professional issues. I am not in their chain of command, but they said they trust my judgment. It's important to be fair and approachable. I've tried to do all I can to help their individual plight and offer advice and comfort. It's important that we bite our tongues, speak calmly and do no harm to others. The rights of others must never be abused.
Undoubtedly we will experience negative feelings from time to time, but it is imperative that we suppress them, or use them to our advantage to help us learn from them. When ill feelings and temptations go unchecked, people get hurt and everyone ends up losing.
Over the past year I've seen others carry heavy burdens. I feel the weight on my shoulders as well. I've seen grown men cry and I've seen them out of control with rage and anger. A few days ago an officer choked an NCO. It took five people to pull him off. Tempers flare, voices are raised, terrible words are flung. Egos are too often unchecked, and authority is abused. Too often we fight amongst ourselves. I've worked in a team handling tense situations before, and it shouldn't be this way. Some people need to be fired...or voted off the island.
Soldiers have come to me with serious personal and professional issues. I am not in their chain of command, but they said they trust my judgment. It's important to be fair and approachable. I've tried to do all I can to help their individual plight and offer advice and comfort. It's important that we bite our tongues, speak calmly and do no harm to others. The rights of others must never be abused.
Undoubtedly we will experience negative feelings from time to time, but it is imperative that we suppress them, or use them to our advantage to help us learn from them. When ill feelings and temptations go unchecked, people get hurt and everyone ends up losing.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Stresses of War -- Fifth Anniversary of Iraqi Invasion
Without a doubt, what I am about to share publicly is the most personal and private thing I've yet to reveal. Many people, myself included, often try to stay aloof. We usually don't open up because we are too afraid of what others may think of us, or we're too embarrassed that we'll be ridiculed or humiliated in public or in private.
Well, with that in mind, I'm stepping outside my comfort zone in a big way to publish this letter I recently wrote to my older sister. In the letter she reminded me, in a loving way, of some silly things I did as a kid -- nothing great or malignant, just light-minded and jovial.
Perhaps what I wrote to her will give you, the reader, some small hint of an idea what things can really be like in a war zone -- even when bullets and bombs aren't flying.
A trusted friend told me recently: "Everyone can eat peanut butter but some people have a reaction to it." I guess everyone has struggles and trials and suffers in their own way. This year has been my Mount Everest obstacle, my private Gethsemane.
Kim,
I received your letter today. The strain and stress I feel cannot be described. Your letters have given me great comfort and joy. I cannot thank you enough.
I have grown a lot since I was 19. I am embarrassed at the foolishness of youth I once had. I do not want to lose my cheer, but I have changed. I am often angry and depressed. When I read your letter I cried. You will never know the stress of war, and I thank God for that. I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Nevertheless, your letters and the love you've shown to me in this great time of need have given me hope and have made me smile -- something I don't do much, if at all anymore. It is comforting to know that someone loves me -- that YOU love me -- enough to send me mail and think of me often.
I love you, Kim. Your kindness has meant more to me than words can ever express.
With all my love, Your little brother,
Jeff
Well, with that in mind, I'm stepping outside my comfort zone in a big way to publish this letter I recently wrote to my older sister. In the letter she reminded me, in a loving way, of some silly things I did as a kid -- nothing great or malignant, just light-minded and jovial.
Perhaps what I wrote to her will give you, the reader, some small hint of an idea what things can really be like in a war zone -- even when bullets and bombs aren't flying.
A trusted friend told me recently: "Everyone can eat peanut butter but some people have a reaction to it." I guess everyone has struggles and trials and suffers in their own way. This year has been my Mount Everest obstacle, my private Gethsemane.
Kim,
I received your letter today. The strain and stress I feel cannot be described. Your letters have given me great comfort and joy. I cannot thank you enough.
I have grown a lot since I was 19. I am embarrassed at the foolishness of youth I once had. I do not want to lose my cheer, but I have changed. I am often angry and depressed. When I read your letter I cried. You will never know the stress of war, and I thank God for that. I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Nevertheless, your letters and the love you've shown to me in this great time of need have given me hope and have made me smile -- something I don't do much, if at all anymore. It is comforting to know that someone loves me -- that YOU love me -- enough to send me mail and think of me often.
I love you, Kim. Your kindness has meant more to me than words can ever express.
With all my love, Your little brother,
Jeff
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Ali Hashem
I have been introduced to - and have met - many Iraqis, here, in America and on-line through friends.
I received a comment on a recent blog I wrote by a southern Iraqi, Ali Hashem. You can see his blogspot here: http://hashemali.blogspot.com/
There is nothing in the world I want more than peace. United together our prayers and efforts can allow this -- inshallah, God willing.
I received a comment on a recent blog I wrote by a southern Iraqi, Ali Hashem. You can see his blogspot here: http://hashemali.blogspot.com/
There is nothing in the world I want more than peace. United together our prayers and efforts can allow this -- inshallah, God willing.
Veto Power
I applaud President Bush for the recent veto on interrogation methods. Long ago I learned that saying 'always' or 'never' is not the sign of wise leadership. In the global war on terror we must not tie our hands. We must keep all of our options open and available.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Combat Life-Saver
Things are hectic, and there is little-to-no time for rest or pause, but journal writing (to include this blogspot) is a great cathartic release for me.
Yesterday we almost lost a soldier. When he test fired his .50 caliber machine gun, it exploded. Shrapnel flew into his leg, severing his femoral artery.
A good soldier I know well, who works as a Miami-Dade cop, acted calmly and quickly. He put a tourniquet around the gunner's leg and provided top-notch medical attention. It saved the soldier's life.
The surgeons were able to graph a part of the vein/artery from his lower leg into the upper right thigh. He's flying out today on a one-way ticket home, and the rest of the soldiers cleaned up the gory, massive amount of blood spilled in the vehicle.
Those are the kinds of stories you never hear about on the news. In fact, yesterday our doctor told me about a guy from another unit here who was stabbed with a knife in the head by an Iraqi. It hit him just below his Kevlar helmet, penetrating about 3 to 4 inches into his temple.
The soldier was coming out of a home after searching it for bombs, weapons and bad guys. As soon as he came out of the door he was attacked from the side. The soldier quickly grabbed his attacker, threw him on the ground and detained him. Only later did he realize a knife was sticking from the side of his head.
The Doc told me the large edged weapon penetrated into the soldier's brain, but he is doing very well in his recovery thanks to a skilled neurosurgeon.
Yesterday we almost lost a soldier. When he test fired his .50 caliber machine gun, it exploded. Shrapnel flew into his leg, severing his femoral artery.
A good soldier I know well, who works as a Miami-Dade cop, acted calmly and quickly. He put a tourniquet around the gunner's leg and provided top-notch medical attention. It saved the soldier's life.
The surgeons were able to graph a part of the vein/artery from his lower leg into the upper right thigh. He's flying out today on a one-way ticket home, and the rest of the soldiers cleaned up the gory, massive amount of blood spilled in the vehicle.
Those are the kinds of stories you never hear about on the news. In fact, yesterday our doctor told me about a guy from another unit here who was stabbed with a knife in the head by an Iraqi. It hit him just below his Kevlar helmet, penetrating about 3 to 4 inches into his temple.
The soldier was coming out of a home after searching it for bombs, weapons and bad guys. As soon as he came out of the door he was attacked from the side. The soldier quickly grabbed his attacker, threw him on the ground and detained him. Only later did he realize a knife was sticking from the side of his head.
The Doc told me the large edged weapon penetrated into the soldier's brain, but he is doing very well in his recovery thanks to a skilled neurosurgeon.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Lady Liberty
Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free...
Those beautiful words are inscribed at the base of the Statue of Liberty on Ellis Island. They mean more to me today than when I read them years ago and it sent chills up my spine. Today, I feel the yearning -- the yearning to be free, the yearning to do what every immigrant who came to America felt, and feels.
I want to go home. I want to be in America and ne'er return.
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free...
Those beautiful words are inscribed at the base of the Statue of Liberty on Ellis Island. They mean more to me today than when I read them years ago and it sent chills up my spine. Today, I feel the yearning -- the yearning to be free, the yearning to do what every immigrant who came to America felt, and feels.
I want to go home. I want to be in America and ne'er return.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
The Soldiers, My Friends
Convoys in our battalion have been attacked with IEDs three times over the last three days. I worry for the troops. They aren't just nameless military men or women. I've come to know them well. I've shaken their hands and have asked them about their home life, their hobbies and their families. They've confided in me their frustrations and fears. We've laughed together and have complained together. Their names and faces are etched in my memory forever and I worry for them constantly.
Leadership in War
All of the negative emotions human beings are capable of experiencing are amplified and magnified one hundred fold in war. That man (or woman) who can contain that metamorphosis or magnification can soon arrive at a place called self-mastery, though he (or she) might be left with the wounds, pains and scars of war not visible to the naked eye.
Any leader of men must suffer in the crucible of affliction to truly understand the needs and desperation's of those whom he represents, guides, uplifts and inspires.
Leadership can be very lonely and very painful at times.
Any leader of men must suffer in the crucible of affliction to truly understand the needs and desperation's of those whom he represents, guides, uplifts and inspires.
Leadership can be very lonely and very painful at times.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Potty Talk
I try to always avoid reading the writings -- or looking at the drawings -- on the port-a-john walls, but I could not help but see one statement. It was the only thing written there. Someone had written:
"Robertson tries but never succeeds."
That's not your usual potty-talk statement, if you will please forgive me for the scatological reference. It caused me some serious reflection.
I don't know any soldier or NCO named Robertson, but I immediately began feeling a little sorry for him, and even more so for the poor soul who took the time to write ill of him -- especially in such a place like a plastic outhouse in the middle of the desert!
Two things came to mind when I read that, and both impressions came from the inspiring life of Abraham Lincoln, one of my favorite past presidents.
It is said that 'Honest Abe' at one time expressed, "It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak up and remove all doubt." As worthless as this Robertson character may have appeared to the graffiti artist, there is some serious concerns over the wit of him who took the time to write it.
The second thing I thought of, as mentioned, also had to do with Lincoln. He failed multiple times in business. He failed more times than he won running for public office, but he never quit. When he ran for president, he was almost destined to lose. He was no shining star on the political horizon, but he didn't give up. Tenacity could have been his middle name.
As we gaze through the portals of history we learn that some of the greatest leaders, inventors, musicians and sports figures overcame great odds to succeed. And what was the secret of their success? More often than not it was the will to keep trying -- to never, ever give up, to paraphrase Winston Churchill.
I recently read about an award-winning concert pianist from South Korea who only has four fingers -- two on each hand. I quickly made a mental comparison to Beethoven's own physical defect.
As I thought about this Robertson person, I recalled Babe Ruth's plight. While he led the league in home runs, he also held the record for the most strike outs. I thought of Thomas Edison who failed hundreds, if not a thousand or more times, before he finally invented the incandescent lightbulb. And who can forget the scientist and physician, Paul Ehrlich, who finally found the cure for syphilis? It was called 606 because that's how many times he failed before finally getting it right.
"Robertson tries but never succeeds" is actually more of a compliment when viewed from that perspective. I shouldn't have felt sorry for him at all. The ridicule and pessimistic speech from the mouths and minds (or ink pens) of naysayers and imps, who have nothing better to do with their time, will never go down in history books as great. But those who keep trying despite the odds and despite the pressure of others telling them to give up or to quit because their dreams are impossible, can indeed defy the odds.
As human beings we only have one of two choices: we can try, try again, or we can quit.
I'll never forget the many times getting bucked off spirited horses as a young boy. My dad taught me a great lesson then that has lasted me a lifetime. He said, "Jeffrey, don't let that horse win, and don't let him sense your fear." He'd encourage me to brush off the dust, grab my hat and get right back on. And I did...every time. In time, I even rode sinewy stallions with great confidence.
So don't you ever quit Robertson. While there might be a few calling for your resignation on personal or professional projects, or on life itself, there are more who really want to see you succeed, and I'm one of them. Dust yourself off, and try, try again.
"Robertson tries but never succeeds."
That's not your usual potty-talk statement, if you will please forgive me for the scatological reference. It caused me some serious reflection.
I don't know any soldier or NCO named Robertson, but I immediately began feeling a little sorry for him, and even more so for the poor soul who took the time to write ill of him -- especially in such a place like a plastic outhouse in the middle of the desert!
Two things came to mind when I read that, and both impressions came from the inspiring life of Abraham Lincoln, one of my favorite past presidents.
It is said that 'Honest Abe' at one time expressed, "It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak up and remove all doubt." As worthless as this Robertson character may have appeared to the graffiti artist, there is some serious concerns over the wit of him who took the time to write it.
The second thing I thought of, as mentioned, also had to do with Lincoln. He failed multiple times in business. He failed more times than he won running for public office, but he never quit. When he ran for president, he was almost destined to lose. He was no shining star on the political horizon, but he didn't give up. Tenacity could have been his middle name.
As we gaze through the portals of history we learn that some of the greatest leaders, inventors, musicians and sports figures overcame great odds to succeed. And what was the secret of their success? More often than not it was the will to keep trying -- to never, ever give up, to paraphrase Winston Churchill.
I recently read about an award-winning concert pianist from South Korea who only has four fingers -- two on each hand. I quickly made a mental comparison to Beethoven's own physical defect.
As I thought about this Robertson person, I recalled Babe Ruth's plight. While he led the league in home runs, he also held the record for the most strike outs. I thought of Thomas Edison who failed hundreds, if not a thousand or more times, before he finally invented the incandescent lightbulb. And who can forget the scientist and physician, Paul Ehrlich, who finally found the cure for syphilis? It was called 606 because that's how many times he failed before finally getting it right.
"Robertson tries but never succeeds" is actually more of a compliment when viewed from that perspective. I shouldn't have felt sorry for him at all. The ridicule and pessimistic speech from the mouths and minds (or ink pens) of naysayers and imps, who have nothing better to do with their time, will never go down in history books as great. But those who keep trying despite the odds and despite the pressure of others telling them to give up or to quit because their dreams are impossible, can indeed defy the odds.
As human beings we only have one of two choices: we can try, try again, or we can quit.
I'll never forget the many times getting bucked off spirited horses as a young boy. My dad taught me a great lesson then that has lasted me a lifetime. He said, "Jeffrey, don't let that horse win, and don't let him sense your fear." He'd encourage me to brush off the dust, grab my hat and get right back on. And I did...every time. In time, I even rode sinewy stallions with great confidence.
So don't you ever quit Robertson. While there might be a few calling for your resignation on personal or professional projects, or on life itself, there are more who really want to see you succeed, and I'm one of them. Dust yourself off, and try, try again.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Yesterday's Convoy
Sheets! I actually have sheets -- and a metal bed frame. The room here is great. I live with two others, a young lieutenant and, temporally, a private first class (PFC).
The room can best be described as something akin to what Martha Stewart must have had in prison. It's such a comfort compared to what I've had. And, I mustn't forget the shower. Ah, refreshing, esp. after that dust storm.
In the midst of my own gratitude, PFC Conyers, a 19 or 20 year old kid from the inner city, who is married and has a son and another on the way, expressed his own gratitude.
"You know, sir," he reminisced, "when I saw those kids on the side of the road on the convoy up here, it made me sad."
"Why?" I questioned, even though with kids of my own I could have predicted what he'd say -- or so I thought.
"Because. People -- they ain't know what they got." Funny, I had just been pondering that very same thing.
Of all the nice American-type amenities in Balad (LSA Anaconda), I didn't see one child there on the military installation. There aren't any children on any military base here. I miss seeing children-- my own as well as others'. PFC Conyers added, "When I was on tower guard at Ramadi, I once saw some Iraqi kids diggin' through the dumpster looking for clothes."
I thought about the Iraqi children I had seen earlier that day; they came running up to the road and waved to us as our convoy passed, relocating us to the north. Later, the kids got out of school and walked home. As I saw their decrepit school buildings and shacks, I thought of what I had told my own children about coming to Iraq. I told them I had come to help save the children and make life better for the children of Iraq (See "Daddy, why do you have to leave?")
As I looked at the school kids from the window of my armored Humvee, I wished my own children could see them. Yes, the school building was dilapidated, but at least they could go to school. Both boys and girls could learn -- something that hadn't happened before in many parts of the country.
Prior to the convoy, I snapped several digital photos. I walked around asking all the soldiers I have come to know so well and respect -- and even love -- if they'd allow me to take a picture with them. I must admit, I had an agenda.
If I'm completely honest -- and I try my hardest to be -- I didn't only take the pictures for memories' sake; I did it because I wanted to have a picture with them before the convoy just in case they didn't survive the trip. Horrible thought, I know, but this area is much more dangerous. That is why I did it.
We stood and smiled for the picture. And for a moment, time stood still.
The people in my unit have been blown up well over a dozen times. They've also been shot at, had grenades thrown at them and have been recipients of a few complex attacks, where after a roadside bomb detonates under their vehicle, al Qaeda insurgents shoot automatic weapons at them as they try to care for the wounded.
While we have had some people get injured, including a lot of concussions and a few guys losing consciousness, no one has yet been seriously injured or killed. (NOTE: I'm not counting broken bones, lacerations or concussions so severe they've had to go to hospitals in Germany and the states for medical care as 'serious' for this record...though that in itself is anything but 'minor.')
A lot more people would have died had we not had MRAPs -- Mine Resistant Ambush Protected vehicles. Members of the House Armed Services Committee, including Ike Skelton (D-MO) and others, came to Ramadi over Christmas to see, among other things, our MRAPs on display. (See The Divided States of America) I had great hopes to speak at length with the Representatives, but I was not afforded the opportunity unfortunately.
Anyway, on the trip yesterday, we did not get MRAPs. Instead, we had Humvees.
As we were driving, I could not help but think of Johnny. He may have died on the very route we took. As I scanned the roadway, the fields and villages we passed, looking for threats, my eyes would occasionally get blurry and I had to blink away the tears before they could fall.
"Vic Two!" the first vehicle radio operator called out in a panic, "watch out for that pot hole. There's something in it." He screamed the words quickly, but by the time he finished we were already to the large hole in the concrete. It turned out to be nothing, fortunately.
Johnny was in a Humvee when he was killed (See John is Dead). While seeing the pot holes we had passed earlier, I thought about how he may have died. Was it quick and painless, or did he suffer? Was he totally ripped apart by the bomb blast, did shrapnel pierce his vital organs or arteries, or did the concussion and blast wave destroy his internal organs quickly, causing him to die?
I didn't seem to care much about the threat of dying or getting blown up yesterday. I was more calm than I've ever been. I think it's because I'm so tired of war. There comes a point where you get numb to it all, I suppose. If you're hyper-vigilant or high-strung all the time, you wear yourself out; if you're not vigilant enough, you're a danger to yourself and others. In war, as in life, you need to have a healthy emotional balance.
I thought about how I could get to my tourniquet and tie it around the severed arm or leg of the guy nearest me in the vehicle. And I thought about the prayer the Chaplain gave before we left on the convoy. Maybe we should should be praying for peace more than we should be praying for protection.
The room can best be described as something akin to what Martha Stewart must have had in prison. It's such a comfort compared to what I've had. And, I mustn't forget the shower. Ah, refreshing, esp. after that dust storm.
In the midst of my own gratitude, PFC Conyers, a 19 or 20 year old kid from the inner city, who is married and has a son and another on the way, expressed his own gratitude.
"You know, sir," he reminisced, "when I saw those kids on the side of the road on the convoy up here, it made me sad."
"Why?" I questioned, even though with kids of my own I could have predicted what he'd say -- or so I thought.
"Because. People -- they ain't know what they got." Funny, I had just been pondering that very same thing.
Of all the nice American-type amenities in Balad (LSA Anaconda), I didn't see one child there on the military installation. There aren't any children on any military base here. I miss seeing children-- my own as well as others'. PFC Conyers added, "When I was on tower guard at Ramadi, I once saw some Iraqi kids diggin' through the dumpster looking for clothes."
I thought about the Iraqi children I had seen earlier that day; they came running up to the road and waved to us as our convoy passed, relocating us to the north. Later, the kids got out of school and walked home. As I saw their decrepit school buildings and shacks, I thought of what I had told my own children about coming to Iraq. I told them I had come to help save the children and make life better for the children of Iraq (See "Daddy, why do you have to leave?")
As I looked at the school kids from the window of my armored Humvee, I wished my own children could see them. Yes, the school building was dilapidated, but at least they could go to school. Both boys and girls could learn -- something that hadn't happened before in many parts of the country.
Prior to the convoy, I snapped several digital photos. I walked around asking all the soldiers I have come to know so well and respect -- and even love -- if they'd allow me to take a picture with them. I must admit, I had an agenda.
If I'm completely honest -- and I try my hardest to be -- I didn't only take the pictures for memories' sake; I did it because I wanted to have a picture with them before the convoy just in case they didn't survive the trip. Horrible thought, I know, but this area is much more dangerous. That is why I did it.
We stood and smiled for the picture. And for a moment, time stood still.
The people in my unit have been blown up well over a dozen times. They've also been shot at, had grenades thrown at them and have been recipients of a few complex attacks, where after a roadside bomb detonates under their vehicle, al Qaeda insurgents shoot automatic weapons at them as they try to care for the wounded.
While we have had some people get injured, including a lot of concussions and a few guys losing consciousness, no one has yet been seriously injured or killed. (NOTE: I'm not counting broken bones, lacerations or concussions so severe they've had to go to hospitals in Germany and the states for medical care as 'serious' for this record...though that in itself is anything but 'minor.')
A lot more people would have died had we not had MRAPs -- Mine Resistant Ambush Protected vehicles. Members of the House Armed Services Committee, including Ike Skelton (D-MO) and others, came to Ramadi over Christmas to see, among other things, our MRAPs on display. (See The Divided States of America) I had great hopes to speak at length with the Representatives, but I was not afforded the opportunity unfortunately.
Anyway, on the trip yesterday, we did not get MRAPs. Instead, we had Humvees.
As we were driving, I could not help but think of Johnny. He may have died on the very route we took. As I scanned the roadway, the fields and villages we passed, looking for threats, my eyes would occasionally get blurry and I had to blink away the tears before they could fall.
"Vic Two!" the first vehicle radio operator called out in a panic, "watch out for that pot hole. There's something in it." He screamed the words quickly, but by the time he finished we were already to the large hole in the concrete. It turned out to be nothing, fortunately.
Johnny was in a Humvee when he was killed (See John is Dead). While seeing the pot holes we had passed earlier, I thought about how he may have died. Was it quick and painless, or did he suffer? Was he totally ripped apart by the bomb blast, did shrapnel pierce his vital organs or arteries, or did the concussion and blast wave destroy his internal organs quickly, causing him to die?
I didn't seem to care much about the threat of dying or getting blown up yesterday. I was more calm than I've ever been. I think it's because I'm so tired of war. There comes a point where you get numb to it all, I suppose. If you're hyper-vigilant or high-strung all the time, you wear yourself out; if you're not vigilant enough, you're a danger to yourself and others. In war, as in life, you need to have a healthy emotional balance.
I thought about how I could get to my tourniquet and tie it around the severed arm or leg of the guy nearest me in the vehicle. And I thought about the prayer the Chaplain gave before we left on the convoy. Maybe we should should be praying for peace more than we should be praying for protection.
The Sick and Afflicted
Yesterday when I called home, our friend Svetlana was visiting my wife in our home. I asked how her husband Arvydas was doing. "Not well," was the response.
I remember when Arvydas injured his hand and then was diagnosed with a rare, debilitating disease. When I last saw him he had developed deep, dark brown spots all over his face. He had changed so dramatically that even I was shocked to see him. I also knew that the disease was taking a crippling toll on him socially and emotionally. Although I have sent his family an occasional email, now and again, I did not know of his dire situation until yesterday. My wife and I plan to donate some money for the upcoming charity dinner held in his behalf. Please visit the following website that someone made in his behalf. http://www.arvydas.info/
I remember when Arvydas injured his hand and then was diagnosed with a rare, debilitating disease. When I last saw him he had developed deep, dark brown spots all over his face. He had changed so dramatically that even I was shocked to see him. I also knew that the disease was taking a crippling toll on him socially and emotionally. Although I have sent his family an occasional email, now and again, I did not know of his dire situation until yesterday. My wife and I plan to donate some money for the upcoming charity dinner held in his behalf. Please visit the following website that someone made in his behalf. http://www.arvydas.info/
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Hamlet's Brooding
A few years ago I checked out Shakespeare's Hamlet at our local library. Today I was reminded of the character's sorrowful state and must admit that at times while here in Iraq, I've felt the same. In Act 2, scene 2, Hamlet laments:
I have of late,--but wherefore I know not,--lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed, it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'er hanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire,--why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
What a piece of work is man! How noble in reason! how infinite in faculties! in form and moving, how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension, how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon ofanimals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me; no, nor woman neither...
I have of late,--but wherefore I know not,--lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed, it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'er hanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire,--why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
What a piece of work is man! How noble in reason! how infinite in faculties! in form and moving, how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension, how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon ofanimals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me; no, nor woman neither...
America is Great because America is Good
I believe that governments were instituted of God for the benefit of man; and that he holds men accountable for their acts in relation to them, both in making laws and administering them, for the good and safety of society.
A few years ago I went to the United States Capital building to visit an old friend. It was wonderful to get a private tour of the meeting halls, sanctuaries and rooms in which inspired men and women throughout the history of America have worked tirelessly to enact erudite laws and uphold the Constitution for the benefit of the people.
Ever since my seventh grade German language teacher ran for State Congress and was elected, I had in my heart a desire to do great things for the benefit of the public and community and nation. Without a doubt that is one of the reasons I joined the military many years ago. To me, putting my hand over my heart and repeating the inspired words of the Pledge of Allegiance has choked me up since the earliest time I can remember -- in the second grade class of my elementary school with my wonderful public school teacher, Mrs. Talbot. I thank God that we were able to stand with our hands over our hearts, and look upon Old Glory with reverence and awe as we spoke those inspiring words in unison:
I pledge allegiance to the Flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.
In recent years I have become distraught at those would would make a mockery of all lovers of liberty and admirers of American foundations of freedoms. A movement to usurp the foundations upon which our great nation was built has embarked and reared its ugly head. There are those who seek to change the wording of our national pledge. There are those who feel flag burning is fine. There are those who say irreligion should replace time-honored political practices, like praying before meetings or removing the phrase "In God we trust" from our currency.
To those I say, walk the pathway along American history with me. See and experience the unique treasures of our national heritage, for that is what makes America great. Study the Federalist Papers, review the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. Read the Bible.
The strength of a nation lies in its families; it lies in the individuals willing to do good and be good, and to uphold the laws of our civil society. The power of a nation lies in the churches that cross the land; it lies in the family who eats dinner together around a table at night and who pray before partaking of their meal.
The greatness of our nation is found in those who struggle for just causes -- the single mother who goes to work each day and struggles to pay her childcare, or the immigrant who is legally granted a work visa and endeavors in entrepreneurialism.
Our country is great because our country is good.
But I wonder sometimes how it is that so many elected officials have acted contrary to the will of the people and to the respectable laws and cultural positions that we treasure and hold dear. I rue seeing so many of our elected leaders falling short of goodness. Those who make and create the laws must be of good judgment and sound moral character. They must not let anyone or anything stop their responsibility to uphold the life-long values and ethics that have made America what she is today.
The U.S. Constitution is a sacred and inspired document, as is the cherished and immortal Declaration of Independence written and signed by the hand of John Hancock on July 4, 1776, which reads, in part:
And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.
Such a pledge would take a great toll on the part of its signers. Many lost their lives in war. Some lost their sons to battle and carnage. Others had their homes ransacked and burned, but they still honored and cherished the Declaration.
If Americans and those who live on American soil will show respect and deference to our laws and way of life, we could prosper and develop, and indeed live a life of Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness without the fear of anarchy and terror. Peace and harmony would reign.
In such a pursuit we must never be xenophobic; we must not shelter ourselves in our communities nor think that we are better than others throughout the world.
An astronaut, and the captain of two space shuttle missions once told a small group of us that America even looks better from space. I believe that. America is great because Americans are good, humble and yet grateful.
I wish I had the reference with me so I could share the words of Ronald Reagan when he was Governor of California. He spoke eloquently and powerfully of pride, the great destructive force of all great nations and empires. He spoke of the ills in society, the abuse of powers, the twisting of unacceptable social norms, a permanent doll that crippled the people. He spoke of the pride and fall of the Roman Empire and the things which led up to it.
Men would do all they could to run away from the call of arms to the duty of their country. Manhood and roles of man were replaced; many men began dressing up like ladies and vice versa. Traditional marriage was attacked. Sexual deviance and 'free love' became the norm. There was greater violence in their society and their sports were more violent as well. The people began to thirst for blood. And all of these things became culturally acceptable.
While the then-Governor Reagan spoke in the Vietnam era, those lessons of the fall of once reputable societies and people still hold as true today as they did during the collapse of the Roman Empire.
We have similar issues today. In this election year my hope is that we can choose Representatives who truly understand threat -- not just the threat of rogue nations, crime and terror, but the threats and attacks so readily seen upon our traditional values, the family and the heritage of the nation that we love, and the freedoms that we espouse.
It is my hope that the majority of the people -- whom I believe to be decent, good, hardworking citizens -- will have their voices be heard and choose elected officials who will represent their rights and do all in their power to make America better for all of us...because America and Americans are still good.
A few years ago I went to the United States Capital building to visit an old friend. It was wonderful to get a private tour of the meeting halls, sanctuaries and rooms in which inspired men and women throughout the history of America have worked tirelessly to enact erudite laws and uphold the Constitution for the benefit of the people.
Ever since my seventh grade German language teacher ran for State Congress and was elected, I had in my heart a desire to do great things for the benefit of the public and community and nation. Without a doubt that is one of the reasons I joined the military many years ago. To me, putting my hand over my heart and repeating the inspired words of the Pledge of Allegiance has choked me up since the earliest time I can remember -- in the second grade class of my elementary school with my wonderful public school teacher, Mrs. Talbot. I thank God that we were able to stand with our hands over our hearts, and look upon Old Glory with reverence and awe as we spoke those inspiring words in unison:
I pledge allegiance to the Flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.
In recent years I have become distraught at those would would make a mockery of all lovers of liberty and admirers of American foundations of freedoms. A movement to usurp the foundations upon which our great nation was built has embarked and reared its ugly head. There are those who seek to change the wording of our national pledge. There are those who feel flag burning is fine. There are those who say irreligion should replace time-honored political practices, like praying before meetings or removing the phrase "In God we trust" from our currency.
To those I say, walk the pathway along American history with me. See and experience the unique treasures of our national heritage, for that is what makes America great. Study the Federalist Papers, review the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. Read the Bible.
The strength of a nation lies in its families; it lies in the individuals willing to do good and be good, and to uphold the laws of our civil society. The power of a nation lies in the churches that cross the land; it lies in the family who eats dinner together around a table at night and who pray before partaking of their meal.
The greatness of our nation is found in those who struggle for just causes -- the single mother who goes to work each day and struggles to pay her childcare, or the immigrant who is legally granted a work visa and endeavors in entrepreneurialism.
Our country is great because our country is good.
But I wonder sometimes how it is that so many elected officials have acted contrary to the will of the people and to the respectable laws and cultural positions that we treasure and hold dear. I rue seeing so many of our elected leaders falling short of goodness. Those who make and create the laws must be of good judgment and sound moral character. They must not let anyone or anything stop their responsibility to uphold the life-long values and ethics that have made America what she is today.
The U.S. Constitution is a sacred and inspired document, as is the cherished and immortal Declaration of Independence written and signed by the hand of John Hancock on July 4, 1776, which reads, in part:
And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.
Such a pledge would take a great toll on the part of its signers. Many lost their lives in war. Some lost their sons to battle and carnage. Others had their homes ransacked and burned, but they still honored and cherished the Declaration.
If Americans and those who live on American soil will show respect and deference to our laws and way of life, we could prosper and develop, and indeed live a life of Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness without the fear of anarchy and terror. Peace and harmony would reign.
In such a pursuit we must never be xenophobic; we must not shelter ourselves in our communities nor think that we are better than others throughout the world.
An astronaut, and the captain of two space shuttle missions once told a small group of us that America even looks better from space. I believe that. America is great because Americans are good, humble and yet grateful.
I wish I had the reference with me so I could share the words of Ronald Reagan when he was Governor of California. He spoke eloquently and powerfully of pride, the great destructive force of all great nations and empires. He spoke of the ills in society, the abuse of powers, the twisting of unacceptable social norms, a permanent doll that crippled the people. He spoke of the pride and fall of the Roman Empire and the things which led up to it.
Men would do all they could to run away from the call of arms to the duty of their country. Manhood and roles of man were replaced; many men began dressing up like ladies and vice versa. Traditional marriage was attacked. Sexual deviance and 'free love' became the norm. There was greater violence in their society and their sports were more violent as well. The people began to thirst for blood. And all of these things became culturally acceptable.
While the then-Governor Reagan spoke in the Vietnam era, those lessons of the fall of once reputable societies and people still hold as true today as they did during the collapse of the Roman Empire.
We have similar issues today. In this election year my hope is that we can choose Representatives who truly understand threat -- not just the threat of rogue nations, crime and terror, but the threats and attacks so readily seen upon our traditional values, the family and the heritage of the nation that we love, and the freedoms that we espouse.
It is my hope that the majority of the people -- whom I believe to be decent, good, hardworking citizens -- will have their voices be heard and choose elected officials who will represent their rights and do all in their power to make America better for all of us...because America and Americans are still good.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
An Iraqi War Oasis
Last night I flew into Balad from Ramadi. This place is the desert oasis. I feel like we're no longer in a war zone. It's Americanized civilization here: movie theaters, swimming pools, paved roads with curbs and American cars, trucks and SUVs. There are even buses here to transport us around the installation because it's so big. There are fast food restaurants and city lights. Some people have very different war experiences.
Desert mornings are cold. I've been used to shivering in my sleeping bag without a heater in my room. The last room I was in (this is my third move, and not my last) was poorly constructed and had gaping holes and cracks in it big enough for the mice that I'd see and hear in the evenings to fit through. (Note: I learned that mice like Craisins. One ate a hole through my Craisin bag.)
While Balad doesn't resemble the luxuries of any city in America, per se, it still has given me a bit of American culture shock with it's bizarres, pedicure booths, and massage tables. I'm not kidding. There are sidewalks and city lights too! It's no wonder I've seen so many Air Force personnel here.
Most soldiers and Marines joke that in luxurious living like this, one should have brought his swimming suit to Iraq where he could work on a sun tan by the pool.
Its hard to believe I'm still in Iraq.
I won't be here long though. Yesterday some soldiers from an Infantry unit were seriously injured and one was killed by a roadside bomb. Since ours is a counter-IED (improvised explosive device) mission, I may be moved closer to remote living spaces near Mosul, an al Qaeda bastion.
I often think of my dear friend and Army teammate, Johnny. He was killed a few months ago not far from here when a bomb exploded under his Humvee. Even now, the thought of him dying like that tears up my eyes. All the pundits and politicians, or the citizens in America living in their comfortable dwellings vice the squalor I've dwelt in, can have their opinions about staying the course in Iraq, or conversely, about getting out this instant. While their words, thoughts and feelings matter to me, they seem almost moot, for they have not suffered through THIS war.
Unfortunately, I have not had the privilege of mingling with local Iraqis. Some friends of mine from the embassy I ran into asked me to go with them to Sheikh Abu Risha's ranch, the leader of the Anbar Awakening sheikhs. (Note: I heard and felt the bomb that killed his brother and predecessor, Sheikh Sattar.) But I was told in no uncertain terms that I could not go. I was livid.
One of my special operations colleagues said those above me were perhaps feeling a bit of jealousy over my connections and subsequent opportunities. Perhaps I'll save the full story for my book, along with how happy I was to see Jeffrey Feldman become the U.S. Ambassador to Lebanon and work though the 34-day Israel-Hezbollah war while in that position. Ambassador Feldman is a genuine and good-hearted man who won my respect when I knew him before he became ambassador.
One last story. Last week some friends of mine from Civil Affairs invited me to go meet the mayor and deputy mayor of Ramadi, and go to the local business center. I would have loved it too, but for this abrupt and unplanned move...for me, at least.
Master Sergeant Jay Adams, a Vietnam veteran, who ironically knows my in-laws and remembers my wife when she still lived with them, told me of an Iraqi man who went to the business center to looking for work. He had his son wait outside while he entered the building. As his son waited in the crowd, a demonic despot drove a car laden with explosives into the courtyard and blew it up. The son was killed.
I think too often we trivialize or forget the great number of Iraqi deaths. The good people of Iraq have suffered more losses and more casualties than our military force. They want peace. They want to stop al Qaeda and the insurgents of their ilk as much or more so than you or I -- because al Qaeda is destroying their families, their neighbors and their way of life right in their own communities. They've heard and felt the explosions. They've suffered more pain and sorrow than most of us will ever realize -- and hopefully we will never have to endure.
The constant barrage of suicide attacks and IED attacks, kidnappings, extortion and torture they're experiencing is a constant daily threat.
This war is a conundrum. There's no simple solution. And, believe me, there's no one more anti-war than I am.
PS I recently went wandering around outside looking for a place to relieve myself when someone said I should go back in the building and use indoor plumbing. I can't believe it. Indoor plumbing! That's great. This base is terrific.
Desert mornings are cold. I've been used to shivering in my sleeping bag without a heater in my room. The last room I was in (this is my third move, and not my last) was poorly constructed and had gaping holes and cracks in it big enough for the mice that I'd see and hear in the evenings to fit through. (Note: I learned that mice like Craisins. One ate a hole through my Craisin bag.)
While Balad doesn't resemble the luxuries of any city in America, per se, it still has given me a bit of American culture shock with it's bizarres, pedicure booths, and massage tables. I'm not kidding. There are sidewalks and city lights too! It's no wonder I've seen so many Air Force personnel here.
Most soldiers and Marines joke that in luxurious living like this, one should have brought his swimming suit to Iraq where he could work on a sun tan by the pool.
Its hard to believe I'm still in Iraq.
I won't be here long though. Yesterday some soldiers from an Infantry unit were seriously injured and one was killed by a roadside bomb. Since ours is a counter-IED (improvised explosive device) mission, I may be moved closer to remote living spaces near Mosul, an al Qaeda bastion.
I often think of my dear friend and Army teammate, Johnny. He was killed a few months ago not far from here when a bomb exploded under his Humvee. Even now, the thought of him dying like that tears up my eyes. All the pundits and politicians, or the citizens in America living in their comfortable dwellings vice the squalor I've dwelt in, can have their opinions about staying the course in Iraq, or conversely, about getting out this instant. While their words, thoughts and feelings matter to me, they seem almost moot, for they have not suffered through THIS war.
Unfortunately, I have not had the privilege of mingling with local Iraqis. Some friends of mine from the embassy I ran into asked me to go with them to Sheikh Abu Risha's ranch, the leader of the Anbar Awakening sheikhs. (Note: I heard and felt the bomb that killed his brother and predecessor, Sheikh Sattar.) But I was told in no uncertain terms that I could not go. I was livid.
One of my special operations colleagues said those above me were perhaps feeling a bit of jealousy over my connections and subsequent opportunities. Perhaps I'll save the full story for my book, along with how happy I was to see Jeffrey Feldman become the U.S. Ambassador to Lebanon and work though the 34-day Israel-Hezbollah war while in that position. Ambassador Feldman is a genuine and good-hearted man who won my respect when I knew him before he became ambassador.
One last story. Last week some friends of mine from Civil Affairs invited me to go meet the mayor and deputy mayor of Ramadi, and go to the local business center. I would have loved it too, but for this abrupt and unplanned move...for me, at least.
Master Sergeant Jay Adams, a Vietnam veteran, who ironically knows my in-laws and remembers my wife when she still lived with them, told me of an Iraqi man who went to the business center to looking for work. He had his son wait outside while he entered the building. As his son waited in the crowd, a demonic despot drove a car laden with explosives into the courtyard and blew it up. The son was killed.
I think too often we trivialize or forget the great number of Iraqi deaths. The good people of Iraq have suffered more losses and more casualties than our military force. They want peace. They want to stop al Qaeda and the insurgents of their ilk as much or more so than you or I -- because al Qaeda is destroying their families, their neighbors and their way of life right in their own communities. They've heard and felt the explosions. They've suffered more pain and sorrow than most of us will ever realize -- and hopefully we will never have to endure.
The constant barrage of suicide attacks and IED attacks, kidnappings, extortion and torture they're experiencing is a constant daily threat.
This war is a conundrum. There's no simple solution. And, believe me, there's no one more anti-war than I am.
PS I recently went wandering around outside looking for a place to relieve myself when someone said I should go back in the building and use indoor plumbing. I can't believe it. Indoor plumbing! That's great. This base is terrific.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Leadership Philosophy
I was asked to write a 500-word essay on my leadership philosophy to apply for a company command. Here it is:
The Nation that makes a great distinction between its scholars and its warriors will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting done by fools.
—Thucydides, 5th Century Greek Historian
Recently I read an account about WWII war heroes. The author related accounts from Stephen Ambrose’s Band of Brothers and then mentioned what I believe to be a mandatory characteristic of quality leadership. He wrote,
“Average leaders used the carrot and the stick to motivate those around them. Great leaders communicate a vision that captures the imagination and fires the hearts and minds of those around them. Average leaders inspire people to punch a time clock. Great leaders inspire industry and passion.
“You can get people to work by using threats or by promising rewards. But if you want to create a band of brothers, you must inspire those who work with you and encourage them to give their all in a great cause.” (Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin, Ensign, “Band of Brothers”, Feb 2008, p. 31.)
His words reminded me of the wit and candor of General SLA Marshall, a WWII veteran and author of Men Against Fire: The Problem of Battle Command in Future War, who observed, “War is much too brutal a business to have room for brutal leading… The good company has no place for the officer who would rather be right than loved, for the time will quickly come when he walks alone.” He also added that “if they (the soldiers) do not deem him (the leader) fit to command, he cannot train them to obey.” (See pp. 200-201 and 168, respectively.)
In my 12 years of military service, working as a private, and later as a supervisory noncommissioned officer, and now a commissioned officer, I’ve learned the value of team work. The best leaders—the leader I try to be—surround themselves with people more talented than they are. Every winning team must have skills which no single person possesses alone. The greatest leaders whom I’ve tried to emulate understand as did King Author when he recalled the purpose of the Round Table. Said he, “Violence is not strength, and compassion is not weakness.” (Camelot, the musical play written by Alan Jay Lerner based on a novel by TH White.)
Finally, adroit leaders have the ability to see what cannot be seen, create and achieve it. In their goal-setting they manage projects by proper prioritization, never majoring in the minors. Leaders are not better than others; they only represent and speak for members of the team. They serve alongside those they supervise and they understand human nature. Great leaders praise more than discipline. Quality leaders hold fast to civilized values. Moral leaders make the right choice even when no one else is watching. Genuine leaders inspire and encourage others by example as well as by voice. Real leaders—not just managers or those in positions of authority—admit mistakes, never abuse power, and act tenaciously in all their endeavors; they make tough decisions for the good of the mission and for the benefit of the team before themselves. Lastly, a leader is a leader whether at home or at work, for whom a person is and what a person does in his/her off time will eventually be made manifest on the job to the benefit or detriment of the organization and the team.
The Nation that makes a great distinction between its scholars and its warriors will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting done by fools.
—Thucydides, 5th Century Greek Historian
Recently I read an account about WWII war heroes. The author related accounts from Stephen Ambrose’s Band of Brothers and then mentioned what I believe to be a mandatory characteristic of quality leadership. He wrote,
“Average leaders used the carrot and the stick to motivate those around them. Great leaders communicate a vision that captures the imagination and fires the hearts and minds of those around them. Average leaders inspire people to punch a time clock. Great leaders inspire industry and passion.
“You can get people to work by using threats or by promising rewards. But if you want to create a band of brothers, you must inspire those who work with you and encourage them to give their all in a great cause.” (Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin, Ensign, “Band of Brothers”, Feb 2008, p. 31.)
His words reminded me of the wit and candor of General SLA Marshall, a WWII veteran and author of Men Against Fire: The Problem of Battle Command in Future War, who observed, “War is much too brutal a business to have room for brutal leading… The good company has no place for the officer who would rather be right than loved, for the time will quickly come when he walks alone.” He also added that “if they (the soldiers) do not deem him (the leader) fit to command, he cannot train them to obey.” (See pp. 200-201 and 168, respectively.)
In my 12 years of military service, working as a private, and later as a supervisory noncommissioned officer, and now a commissioned officer, I’ve learned the value of team work. The best leaders—the leader I try to be—surround themselves with people more talented than they are. Every winning team must have skills which no single person possesses alone. The greatest leaders whom I’ve tried to emulate understand as did King Author when he recalled the purpose of the Round Table. Said he, “Violence is not strength, and compassion is not weakness.” (Camelot, the musical play written by Alan Jay Lerner based on a novel by TH White.)
Finally, adroit leaders have the ability to see what cannot be seen, create and achieve it. In their goal-setting they manage projects by proper prioritization, never majoring in the minors. Leaders are not better than others; they only represent and speak for members of the team. They serve alongside those they supervise and they understand human nature. Great leaders praise more than discipline. Quality leaders hold fast to civilized values. Moral leaders make the right choice even when no one else is watching. Genuine leaders inspire and encourage others by example as well as by voice. Real leaders—not just managers or those in positions of authority—admit mistakes, never abuse power, and act tenaciously in all their endeavors; they make tough decisions for the good of the mission and for the benefit of the team before themselves. Lastly, a leader is a leader whether at home or at work, for whom a person is and what a person does in his/her off time will eventually be made manifest on the job to the benefit or detriment of the organization and the team.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Lessons from WWII
The words of leadership below come from Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin, of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. His address was not given to military personnel, but as you read you’ll see it applies both to you and me, wherever we are or whatever kind of work we’re engaged in.
Some years ago, Stephen Ambrose wrote a book describing the experience of a company of paratroopers during World War II. (See Band of Brothers [1992].) The army was developing a new kind of warfare the world had not seen before. They were training men to parachute out of planes—often behind enemy lines and at immense personal peril—to attack, and to meet strategic objectives critical to the overall success of the war effort.
Easy Company of the 506th regiment, 101st Airborne Division, was one of those groups. Formed from volunteers, the 140 men began their training in 1942. They had been told that their training would be harder than any other in the military. In fact, it was so challenging that two out of three men couldn’t make it and either dropped out or were assigned to a regular army unit.
The night before D day, Easy Company parachuted behind enemy lines. Their assignment was to take out a battery of artillery guns. But in the chaos of the drop, only 12 of the 140 men were in position to carry out the mission. Nevertheless, they knew that if they didn’t take out those guns, the Allied soldiers storming Utah Beach would suffer heavy casualties from the artillery.
To make matters worse, the guns were manned and defended by more than 50 elite enemy paratroopers who had dug a series of trenches about the battery, heavily fortifying it against any kind of assault.
In one of the most well-executed and heroic operations of the war, 12 men of Easy Company assaulted the position, routed the enemy, and destroyed the artillery guns.
In later action, Easy Company took part in the ill-fated Operation Market Garden, facing enemy forces in Holland and Belgium. Later they were among the forces that held Bastogne against encircling enemy panzer units during the Battle of the Bulge.
By the time the war ended, the highly decorated Easy Company had taken heavy, heavy casualties. Forty-eight of its members had died…
Average leaders used the carrot and the stick to motivate those around them. Great leaders communicate a vision that captures the imagination and fires the hearts and minds of those around them. Average leaders inspire people to punch a time clock. Great leaders inspire industry and passion.
You can get people to work by using threats or by promising rewards. But if you want to create a band of brothers, you must inspire those who work with you and encourage them to give their all in a great cause…
No great cause ever succeeded without great effort.
One of the reasons the men of Easy Company volunteered for hazardous duty was that when they went into combat, they wanted to be next to someone they could trust—someone who wouldn’t do something foolish that could get them killed. They didn’t want to be next to someone who was lazy or who hadn’t paid attention during training or who wasn’t physically capable of what was required. These men had worked to the limits of human capacity…
Work is the foundation of success and creation. It is the secret of every successful enterprise.
Even so, there are some who go to great lengths to avoid work. In fact, a few people I have known have worked exceptionally hard to get out of work… Some of the most fulfilling moments of our lives are when we establish worthwhile goals and work to achieve them…
Fear can make us run away from things—things like setting and achieving goals, developing relationships, or becoming the people we know we should become. Sometimes fear can even paralyze us to the point that we don’t even try.
Fear can be a thick fog that smothers our dreams. It can be a cage that restrains us from reaching our destiny. It can be a weight that restrains our every step.
Time after time, the men of Easy Company knew fear. A few days after D day, they were walking down a road toward a French village when an enemy machine gun opened fire on them. In spite of their training, the men ducked for cover and froze. The company commander, Lieutenant Dick Winters, knew if they stayed there, his men would be cut down. So he stood in the middle of the road, away from cover, bullets whistling all around him, and ordered his men to move out.
His men stared at him, not believing what they were seeing—but only for an instant. The courage of their commanding officer inspired them. Then they moved out. Because of Lieutenant Winters’s bravery, the men survived.
We may not be immune to being afraid, but we do not have to succumb to it… Move forward with faith, believing you will succeed! Don’t let fear of failure stop you from greatness. Let your example of courage inspire those around you…
Stephen Ambrose titled his history of Easy Company Band of Brothers because of the bond of fellowship these men felt for each other. This sort of brotherhood happens when people give their hearts, might, minds, and strength to a cause greater than themselves. When we work together in a bond of brotherhood, when we love each other and are loyal and faithful to the great cause to which we have been called, the impossible becomes possible.
It is our opportunity to foster this brotherhood. Teach those who serve with you that we are not competing with one another. The men of Easy Company weren’t great because they were trying to stand out as individuals. They were great because they worked together.
One of the men of Easy Company remembered a conversation he had with his grandson.
“Grandpa,” the little boy asked, “were you a hero in the war?”
The old soldier thought about the question for a moment and then replied, “No, but I served in a company of heroes.” (Band of Brothers, 316.)
Those who will work with you all have within them the potential to be heroes. As you inspire those who serve with you and give them a vision of the great cause, help them set their priorities, and encourage them to settle into the harness, overcome their fears, and press on in faith, you may create your own company of heroes.
Some years ago, Stephen Ambrose wrote a book describing the experience of a company of paratroopers during World War II. (See Band of Brothers [1992].) The army was developing a new kind of warfare the world had not seen before. They were training men to parachute out of planes—often behind enemy lines and at immense personal peril—to attack, and to meet strategic objectives critical to the overall success of the war effort.
Easy Company of the 506th regiment, 101st Airborne Division, was one of those groups. Formed from volunteers, the 140 men began their training in 1942. They had been told that their training would be harder than any other in the military. In fact, it was so challenging that two out of three men couldn’t make it and either dropped out or were assigned to a regular army unit.
The night before D day, Easy Company parachuted behind enemy lines. Their assignment was to take out a battery of artillery guns. But in the chaos of the drop, only 12 of the 140 men were in position to carry out the mission. Nevertheless, they knew that if they didn’t take out those guns, the Allied soldiers storming Utah Beach would suffer heavy casualties from the artillery.
To make matters worse, the guns were manned and defended by more than 50 elite enemy paratroopers who had dug a series of trenches about the battery, heavily fortifying it against any kind of assault.
In one of the most well-executed and heroic operations of the war, 12 men of Easy Company assaulted the position, routed the enemy, and destroyed the artillery guns.
In later action, Easy Company took part in the ill-fated Operation Market Garden, facing enemy forces in Holland and Belgium. Later they were among the forces that held Bastogne against encircling enemy panzer units during the Battle of the Bulge.
By the time the war ended, the highly decorated Easy Company had taken heavy, heavy casualties. Forty-eight of its members had died…
Average leaders used the carrot and the stick to motivate those around them. Great leaders communicate a vision that captures the imagination and fires the hearts and minds of those around them. Average leaders inspire people to punch a time clock. Great leaders inspire industry and passion.
You can get people to work by using threats or by promising rewards. But if you want to create a band of brothers, you must inspire those who work with you and encourage them to give their all in a great cause…
No great cause ever succeeded without great effort.
One of the reasons the men of Easy Company volunteered for hazardous duty was that when they went into combat, they wanted to be next to someone they could trust—someone who wouldn’t do something foolish that could get them killed. They didn’t want to be next to someone who was lazy or who hadn’t paid attention during training or who wasn’t physically capable of what was required. These men had worked to the limits of human capacity…
Work is the foundation of success and creation. It is the secret of every successful enterprise.
Even so, there are some who go to great lengths to avoid work. In fact, a few people I have known have worked exceptionally hard to get out of work… Some of the most fulfilling moments of our lives are when we establish worthwhile goals and work to achieve them…
Fear can make us run away from things—things like setting and achieving goals, developing relationships, or becoming the people we know we should become. Sometimes fear can even paralyze us to the point that we don’t even try.
Fear can be a thick fog that smothers our dreams. It can be a cage that restrains us from reaching our destiny. It can be a weight that restrains our every step.
Time after time, the men of Easy Company knew fear. A few days after D day, they were walking down a road toward a French village when an enemy machine gun opened fire on them. In spite of their training, the men ducked for cover and froze. The company commander, Lieutenant Dick Winters, knew if they stayed there, his men would be cut down. So he stood in the middle of the road, away from cover, bullets whistling all around him, and ordered his men to move out.
His men stared at him, not believing what they were seeing—but only for an instant. The courage of their commanding officer inspired them. Then they moved out. Because of Lieutenant Winters’s bravery, the men survived.
We may not be immune to being afraid, but we do not have to succumb to it… Move forward with faith, believing you will succeed! Don’t let fear of failure stop you from greatness. Let your example of courage inspire those around you…
Stephen Ambrose titled his history of Easy Company Band of Brothers because of the bond of fellowship these men felt for each other. This sort of brotherhood happens when people give their hearts, might, minds, and strength to a cause greater than themselves. When we work together in a bond of brotherhood, when we love each other and are loyal and faithful to the great cause to which we have been called, the impossible becomes possible.
It is our opportunity to foster this brotherhood. Teach those who serve with you that we are not competing with one another. The men of Easy Company weren’t great because they were trying to stand out as individuals. They were great because they worked together.
One of the men of Easy Company remembered a conversation he had with his grandson.
“Grandpa,” the little boy asked, “were you a hero in the war?”
The old soldier thought about the question for a moment and then replied, “No, but I served in a company of heroes.” (Band of Brothers, 316.)
Those who will work with you all have within them the potential to be heroes. As you inspire those who serve with you and give them a vision of the great cause, help them set their priorities, and encourage them to settle into the harness, overcome their fears, and press on in faith, you may create your own company of heroes.
Flex-ecute & Change
Now there’s a word for you. Flex-ecute. It’s a combination of FLEXIBLE and EXECUTE, as in we need to be flexible while executing the mission. The bottom-line is when we progress towards our personal or professional goals change happens. Change is inevitable—the one absolute.
Since human beings are creatures of habit we instinctively deplore change, some more than others. In my motivational speaking days, I used to talk a lot about getting out of our comfort zones. It’s amazing how many speakers actually get paid to talk to audiences about change and comfort zones.
To be honest, I’m a high-energy guy. In fact, I remember one person years ago after hearing me speak describe me as ‘dynamic’. The truth is I enjoy change. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons why I enjoy public speaking while many people fear and hate it. I enjoy the uncertainty of SWAT operations—at least I did when I was doing that work. The fear of the unknown combined with a bunch of other feelings gives a bunch of adrenaline. The hormones and chemical changes created by skydiving, for instance, feels good. At least it felt great to me. Intimacy and kissing feels good too, especially if you haven’t done it for a long time (boo-ho). Scary movies can also produce a chemical excitement followed later by a peaceful tranquility.
Exploring new things and new places, or riding a zip line beneath the jungle canopies like what my wife and I did when we went into Belize on our cruise, also gives a little rush. My wife really liked the zip line. (She likes roller coasters and rappelling too.) A few people were in tears because they were so scared to ride the zip line. It takes a lot to excite me, though. It was fun, but again, it takes a lot to give me chemical euphoria (and I don’t mean through synthetic or illegal highs, which I oppose). Perhaps it’s genetically wired within me to be calm by nature. I’m sure it is. I’ve often heard it said that some people we born to be warriors—cops or military-types. I can be calm when most around me are seriously troubled by traumatic events. Most of my colleagues can too.
I’ve also read criminology and psychology reports that show the antithesis. Some say criminals were had an unnaturally high disposition to break the law because they were born that way through inherited genetics. Of course, one cannot leave out their social-economic and family upbringing either.
Last year Japanese scientists at Tokyo University genetically altered a mouse to not fear cats. That’s amazing, isn’t it? The result showed that fear is genetically hardwired and not necessarily learned through experience, according to the study. I have some thoughts to that though.
Very young children are oblivious to traffic, for instance. They don’t fear it. They haven’t learned (or felt) what serious pain is yet, nor hopefully have they seen fatal car wrecks or death. The mentally handicapped are also oblivious. Their genetic responses were, frankly, retarded in the true sense of the word. Therefore they may perceive fear differently than you or I.
When I used to teach tactics and firearms full time, I’d often talk about the physiological and psychological changes that fear induces. I have often had to correct learned behavior—behaviors and concepts consciously or subconsciously learned through media entertainment. It is a fact that we learn from television and movies even though we ‘know’ it is make-believe. In fact, yesterday Dave Grossman sent me a personal note. (Thanks Dave!) He is a well-known expert on that topic. (See his website www.killology.com.)
Case in point: nearly every time someone shot with a Simunition FX marking cartridge or paintball for the first time during role playing tactical scenarios, even if they had worked as police officers for several years, they’d fall backwards quickly, moan and give a performance worthy of an Emmy nomination. In sum, I’d have to literally explain away and debunk the myths learned by Hollywood. There’s no such thing as two people pointing their guns at each other talking the other down—at least that’s not the tactically prudent approach if you want to live! There’s no such thing as a bullet that makes the person being shot get violently thrown back 20-30 feet. Those are done by pulleys, cables and exploding squibs. (When I lived in California I used to want to be a stuntman; I’d know. On that note, I once dove off a tall building head first, flailing my arms and legs frantically. It was great. But I’m getting too old for that now.)
Anyway, the biggest thing I’d have to explain to police officers, military and security professionals is that the will to live can dominate one or two or three or four or more bullet holes. I’ve seen it! People can survive being shot. On the flip side of that, that’s why I also taught them to keep shooting until the threat stops. I believe in shooting and shooting some more. It’s a dangerous precedent not to. I’m a graduate of an Army special ops sniper school, but I’ve rarely seen ‘one shot, one kill.’
Now, how do I link that into change—the topic I began with? That’s really a rhetorical question because I’ve decided to CHANGE my ending.
Since human beings are creatures of habit we instinctively deplore change, some more than others. In my motivational speaking days, I used to talk a lot about getting out of our comfort zones. It’s amazing how many speakers actually get paid to talk to audiences about change and comfort zones.
To be honest, I’m a high-energy guy. In fact, I remember one person years ago after hearing me speak describe me as ‘dynamic’. The truth is I enjoy change. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons why I enjoy public speaking while many people fear and hate it. I enjoy the uncertainty of SWAT operations—at least I did when I was doing that work. The fear of the unknown combined with a bunch of other feelings gives a bunch of adrenaline. The hormones and chemical changes created by skydiving, for instance, feels good. At least it felt great to me. Intimacy and kissing feels good too, especially if you haven’t done it for a long time (boo-ho). Scary movies can also produce a chemical excitement followed later by a peaceful tranquility.
Exploring new things and new places, or riding a zip line beneath the jungle canopies like what my wife and I did when we went into Belize on our cruise, also gives a little rush. My wife really liked the zip line. (She likes roller coasters and rappelling too.) A few people were in tears because they were so scared to ride the zip line. It takes a lot to excite me, though. It was fun, but again, it takes a lot to give me chemical euphoria (and I don’t mean through synthetic or illegal highs, which I oppose). Perhaps it’s genetically wired within me to be calm by nature. I’m sure it is. I’ve often heard it said that some people we born to be warriors—cops or military-types. I can be calm when most around me are seriously troubled by traumatic events. Most of my colleagues can too.
I’ve also read criminology and psychology reports that show the antithesis. Some say criminals were had an unnaturally high disposition to break the law because they were born that way through inherited genetics. Of course, one cannot leave out their social-economic and family upbringing either.
Last year Japanese scientists at Tokyo University genetically altered a mouse to not fear cats. That’s amazing, isn’t it? The result showed that fear is genetically hardwired and not necessarily learned through experience, according to the study. I have some thoughts to that though.
Very young children are oblivious to traffic, for instance. They don’t fear it. They haven’t learned (or felt) what serious pain is yet, nor hopefully have they seen fatal car wrecks or death. The mentally handicapped are also oblivious. Their genetic responses were, frankly, retarded in the true sense of the word. Therefore they may perceive fear differently than you or I.
When I used to teach tactics and firearms full time, I’d often talk about the physiological and psychological changes that fear induces. I have often had to correct learned behavior—behaviors and concepts consciously or subconsciously learned through media entertainment. It is a fact that we learn from television and movies even though we ‘know’ it is make-believe. In fact, yesterday Dave Grossman sent me a personal note. (Thanks Dave!) He is a well-known expert on that topic. (See his website www.killology.com.)
Case in point: nearly every time someone shot with a Simunition FX marking cartridge or paintball for the first time during role playing tactical scenarios, even if they had worked as police officers for several years, they’d fall backwards quickly, moan and give a performance worthy of an Emmy nomination. In sum, I’d have to literally explain away and debunk the myths learned by Hollywood. There’s no such thing as two people pointing their guns at each other talking the other down—at least that’s not the tactically prudent approach if you want to live! There’s no such thing as a bullet that makes the person being shot get violently thrown back 20-30 feet. Those are done by pulleys, cables and exploding squibs. (When I lived in California I used to want to be a stuntman; I’d know. On that note, I once dove off a tall building head first, flailing my arms and legs frantically. It was great. But I’m getting too old for that now.)
Anyway, the biggest thing I’d have to explain to police officers, military and security professionals is that the will to live can dominate one or two or three or four or more bullet holes. I’ve seen it! People can survive being shot. On the flip side of that, that’s why I also taught them to keep shooting until the threat stops. I believe in shooting and shooting some more. It’s a dangerous precedent not to. I’m a graduate of an Army special ops sniper school, but I’ve rarely seen ‘one shot, one kill.’
Now, how do I link that into change—the topic I began with? That’s really a rhetorical question because I’ve decided to CHANGE my ending.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Letters Home
Today I read a letter Joseph Smith wrote to his wife Emma on November 12, 1838, from Richmond, Missouri. It seems to reflect my own situation well. It reads:
I received your letter, which I read over and over again; it was a sweet morsel to me. O God, grant that I may have the privilege of seeing once more my lovely family in the enjoyment of the sweets of liberty and social life. To press them to my bosom and kiss their lovely cheeks would fill my heart with unspeakable gratitude. Tell the children that I am alive and trust I shall come and see them before long. Comfort their hearts all you can, and try to be comforted yourself all you can…
P.S. Write as often as you can… Act according to your own feelings and best judgment, and endeavor to be comforted, if possible, and I trust that all will turn out for the best.
(Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Joseph Smith, 2007, p. 241.)
I received your letter, which I read over and over again; it was a sweet morsel to me. O God, grant that I may have the privilege of seeing once more my lovely family in the enjoyment of the sweets of liberty and social life. To press them to my bosom and kiss their lovely cheeks would fill my heart with unspeakable gratitude. Tell the children that I am alive and trust I shall come and see them before long. Comfort their hearts all you can, and try to be comforted yourself all you can…
P.S. Write as often as you can… Act according to your own feelings and best judgment, and endeavor to be comforted, if possible, and I trust that all will turn out for the best.
(Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Joseph Smith, 2007, p. 241.)
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Friday, February 29, 2008
Why We Suffer
Jesus was a man of sorrows and well acquainted with grief (compare to Isaiah 54). That is part of the Lord God Almighty’s plan. The great plan of happiness would be frustrated without it. I feel like Paul the Apostle to rejoice in my weaknesses and sorrows for then I am made strong (2 Corinthians 12:10; see also Romans 8:17). My faith could grow no other way. Charity—the pure and perfect love of Christ—could be bestowed upon us in no other fashion but through our trials, struggles and sorrows. Indeed, all terrible things shall be for our benefit and good.
In speaking of the most horrific trials, Joseph Smith, the founder of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, declared, “The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater than he?”
It is a blessing from heaven to have endured the crosses of the world. I think of the Savior who arose from being beaten 39 times with a multi-thonged whip into whose leather bands were woven sharp bones and cutting metals. Many died from the scourging alone, but he arose to suffer a crueler death upon the cross that he bore.
Jesus carried his own cross until he collapsed from the weight and the trauma he had endured. That’s when Simon, the traveler, carried it for him. Then the Savior of the world was nailed to the cross upon which he died.
What does it mean then to endure the crosses of the world or to suffer our own private Gethsemane? I submit that nothing can be so terrible that He has not endured it. He alone can understand our pains. When we have faith and take our sorrows before the Lord, when no one else can or has power to, He can bear our burden, ease our sorrows, succor or lift us up, and shall wipe away all tears from our eyes (see, e.g. Revelations 21:4).
But, according to the wisdom and tender mercies of God, these comforts might not come immediately, for that would rob us of the opportunity of faith, to develop empathy towards others, and the blessings which come to those who are obedient to the commandments, laws and ordinances of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
These painful adult lessons are sometimes not grasped or learned at all. But after living through the hell I have here—my own private Gethsemane—I can now say with Paul,
“When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things” (1 Corinthians 13:11).
In speaking of the most horrific trials, Joseph Smith, the founder of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, declared, “The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater than he?”
It is a blessing from heaven to have endured the crosses of the world. I think of the Savior who arose from being beaten 39 times with a multi-thonged whip into whose leather bands were woven sharp bones and cutting metals. Many died from the scourging alone, but he arose to suffer a crueler death upon the cross that he bore.
Jesus carried his own cross until he collapsed from the weight and the trauma he had endured. That’s when Simon, the traveler, carried it for him. Then the Savior of the world was nailed to the cross upon which he died.
What does it mean then to endure the crosses of the world or to suffer our own private Gethsemane? I submit that nothing can be so terrible that He has not endured it. He alone can understand our pains. When we have faith and take our sorrows before the Lord, when no one else can or has power to, He can bear our burden, ease our sorrows, succor or lift us up, and shall wipe away all tears from our eyes (see, e.g. Revelations 21:4).
But, according to the wisdom and tender mercies of God, these comforts might not come immediately, for that would rob us of the opportunity of faith, to develop empathy towards others, and the blessings which come to those who are obedient to the commandments, laws and ordinances of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
These painful adult lessons are sometimes not grasped or learned at all. But after living through the hell I have here—my own private Gethsemane—I can now say with Paul,
“When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things” (1 Corinthians 13:11).
Mormons in the Military
One of the guys I go to church with, Nick Hansen who’s in the Navy, said that others view us LDS service members in this way: “first they make fun of you, then they respect you, then they ask you for advice.” I thought that was an accurate description.
Stating the Obvious
Hillary Rodham Clinton is a woman. At that statement I seem to hear from the crowds of pundits, politicians, media tycoons (and I mustn’t forget the women’s lib movement), What? How dare you say such a thing?! It seems that we simply can’t state the obvious because the obvious is taboo.
But the facts are Mrs. Clinton is a woman—I know it’s hard to say in a public domain. Moreover, John McCain has very likely suffered for many years with serious shell shock (that’s what it was called before the term post traumatic stress came about around the Vietnam era). Are we that afraid to state the obvious? I mean, come on. The guy (McCain) was held as a prisoner of war and tortured for several years! A hero and icon in that way? Yes, absolutely, but I’m still just stating the obvious. My great uncle was a POW in WWII too.
It just goes to show you that war vets—even the ones with serious war trauma—can return from war and do great things. Their rights shouldn’t be suspended and they shouldn’t be bereft of opportunities from future employers scared to embrace them. (Note: I’m still looking for a job.)
So, Hillary is indeed a woman. Men and women have noticeable differences in appearance and in character. Perhaps that’s the reason why the book Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus was such a big hit a few years back. It IS the reason we joke about our differences and have throughout the catacombs of time!
With the differences comes mood swings. I’m talking about subtle but noticeable changes in behavior. Shoot, my wife occasionally has them too… (I love you dear.)
Can we blame Hillary’s kindness towards Obama in Texas and then her opposite raging rant about him a day or two later on her hormone levels or her biological make-up? Na, but I suppose with all the attention she’s been getting, American’s are just beginning to notice her fickle temperament. If she’s elected as president, watch out America!
But seriously, look, while she is a woman (and, by the way, I WOULD vote for a woman for president—and I would vote for a Democrat, perhaps one day, perhaps), she’s still human and should be able to control herself despite her biological make-up, esp. if she’s going to be MY president. Instead, she’s launching a desperate smear campaign.
The Dems released a picture of Obama in Africa. Oh no! He really is a black man with ties to Africa. Ahhhh….everybody run. Who cares? I’d vote for a black president, especially someone like Colin Powell. I just don’t like some of Obama’s policies. I don’t like some of McCain’s policies either. And I don’t like much of anything about Hillary.
Each of them want to move Gitmo, eliminate the very thought of waterboarding, etcetra.
Right now, my vote is for NONE OF THE ABOVE! We’ll just have to see who McCain and—my prediction, Obama—choose for veep running mates.
But the facts are Mrs. Clinton is a woman—I know it’s hard to say in a public domain. Moreover, John McCain has very likely suffered for many years with serious shell shock (that’s what it was called before the term post traumatic stress came about around the Vietnam era). Are we that afraid to state the obvious? I mean, come on. The guy (McCain) was held as a prisoner of war and tortured for several years! A hero and icon in that way? Yes, absolutely, but I’m still just stating the obvious. My great uncle was a POW in WWII too.
It just goes to show you that war vets—even the ones with serious war trauma—can return from war and do great things. Their rights shouldn’t be suspended and they shouldn’t be bereft of opportunities from future employers scared to embrace them. (Note: I’m still looking for a job.)
So, Hillary is indeed a woman. Men and women have noticeable differences in appearance and in character. Perhaps that’s the reason why the book Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus was such a big hit a few years back. It IS the reason we joke about our differences and have throughout the catacombs of time!
With the differences comes mood swings. I’m talking about subtle but noticeable changes in behavior. Shoot, my wife occasionally has them too… (I love you dear.)
Can we blame Hillary’s kindness towards Obama in Texas and then her opposite raging rant about him a day or two later on her hormone levels or her biological make-up? Na, but I suppose with all the attention she’s been getting, American’s are just beginning to notice her fickle temperament. If she’s elected as president, watch out America!
But seriously, look, while she is a woman (and, by the way, I WOULD vote for a woman for president—and I would vote for a Democrat, perhaps one day, perhaps), she’s still human and should be able to control herself despite her biological make-up, esp. if she’s going to be MY president. Instead, she’s launching a desperate smear campaign.
The Dems released a picture of Obama in Africa. Oh no! He really is a black man with ties to Africa. Ahhhh….everybody run. Who cares? I’d vote for a black president, especially someone like Colin Powell. I just don’t like some of Obama’s policies. I don’t like some of McCain’s policies either. And I don’t like much of anything about Hillary.
Each of them want to move Gitmo, eliminate the very thought of waterboarding, etcetra.
Right now, my vote is for NONE OF THE ABOVE! We’ll just have to see who McCain and—my prediction, Obama—choose for veep running mates.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Former Air Marshal & War Vet – Will Work for Food
As the time draws near to my going home from Iraq, I’m a bit concerned about where I’ll work. I don’t have a job lined up or a steady income. The stress of looking for work in order to provide for my family is terrible. Sure, I could get a contract carrying a gun here in Iraq or in Afghanistan as a U.S. government private security contractor, but I want to go home. Besides, that’s not too appealing anyway.
As I think about how I’ve ended up in this precarious situation, I feel there’s a lot the citizens of America should know.
Those who serve in the Military Reserves are often shunned in the workplace. They are often surreptitiously passed up for promotion and job opportunities. Sure, it’s illegal for anyone to do that, but I’m telling you, it happens. Something similar happened to me.
Serving three years as an undercover Federal Air Marshal (FAM) was interesting, to say the least. My first and only experience as a Federal employee, aside from my military service was, frankly, rotten. I saw corruption, abuse of authority, in-fighting and foolish government practices. I saw nepotism and unfair treatment. Who would of thunk it? Yeap, our federal government has some serious issues. The worst part of all is the airports and airlines still aren’t safe!
Things were so terrible at the end of three years with the FAM Service that I wanted to do anything—anything—other than work as a government employee. I finally got an opportunity to be self-employed, and I secured a promising contract with a U.S. government customer. However, when the Reserves called me up, I lost the opportunity I was told would have been perpetual. The government has mandated that any Military Reservist who is called to go to war MUST receive their same job when they return. Obviously, that doesn’t apply to those who are self-employed…even if it is for a U.S. government customer.
Heck, I only stayed in the Reserves because the cost for family health insurance for those who are self-employed in America is totally outlandish! So much for the government wanting to help more American’s become entrepreneurs! Now I’m getting side-tracked. Where was I? Oh, yes…
The last terrible thing that occurred to me before leaving the Federal Air Marshal Service had to do with my being in the Military Reserves. I was told by my direct supervisor, Assistant to the Special Agent in Charge, Bill K….., that I could NOT go to my scheduled military drill which was held on the first weekend of every month. That was totally illegal for him to say that, but being the guy I was, I didn’t fight it. I’m sure he knew that what he had said was illegal, though. He had been a Marine Corps officer in the Reserves himself! I figured I could miss one or two and try to make them up. In fact, that’s what he told me to do, although that wasn’t what I wanted. The bad thing was, it kept happening month after month after month.
I was told by Bill K…. that I could not go to drill again and again because I was continually being scheduled to work on weekends. Bill, my supervisor told me that he could not change the schedules—even though I had given my Military Reserve schedule to him several months in advance. He just didn’t bother to take me off flight status for those days. It was his mistake.
Here’s the clincher: While flying overseas I made several hundred dollars more in per diem and overtime. Bill K…. told me, and it was known around the Field Office, that if I missed out on one overseas flight, I would lose all that extra money in per diem and overtime pay. Furthermore, I was told that if I were taken off the schedule for just two day to attend my military drill that I would miss about 6 or 7 international trips and all the money that it included. But it wasn’t just the money, flying overseas was the pinnacle of the job. It was, you’ll remember, right after the London Bomb Plot—suicidal terrorists wanted to blow U.S. and British planes up in mid-flight over the Atlantic Ocean. I wanted to stop that! That was my job. That’s why I joined the air marshals.
I consulted with two other air marshals in my Field Office who were also in the military Reserves. They too said that they were treated unfairly by the FAM Service for being in the Reserves. They had been ostracized, missed opportunities for professional development within the Federal government, and had been passed up in promotion (even though, knowing their backgrounds very well, both much more qualified than the people who were being promoted).
On that, I called the military Staff Judge Advocate—or JAG, the military lawyers. They told me that I needed to pursue something on the government side of the house. I called the Office of Special Counsel once and I got the number of an ombudsman, but I didn’t pursue anything. In retrospect, I should have, but I feared for my job!
I was so fed up with the government bureaucracy, the unethical decisions I saw from government supervisors, and much, much more that I just wanted out. Moreover, I feared retaliation if I spoke up. I had seen others get in trouble for trying to do their jobs well. Also, I had already been castigated by the Special Agent in Charge (SAC), Michael DeMarte, for asking a legitimate question about the lack of FAM’s anonymity and media reports when I very first arrived at the Field Office. (By the way, a House Judiciary Committee report later fully supported what I had observed and recommended during that open Q&A forum before a certain Deputy Assistant Director and SAC DeMarte. There’s a lot more to that story…which I’ll save for my book.)
Before, and especially after, the Miami International Airport shooting—when two FAMs shot and killed a man who claimed he had a bomb—I asked if I could teach my class on suicide bomber identification and interdiction. I had even been asked by SWAT legend Larry Glick and the International Tactical Officer’s Training Association (http://www.itota.net/) to teach several police officers a few months before in another state, which I did. My request to help share the information I had learned and was knowledgeable about, fell on deaf ears at the Federal government level. …And you thought the communication and overall cooperation for success against terrorism improved after September 11th. Pshaw.
As mentioned, I saw what had happened to others who filed grievances. Many guys were suspended for frivolous things, and their legal rights were usurped. So, instead of going against the grain, I figured I’d just find another job—pretty sad too, considering I had gone into the FAM Service with full intentions of staying in the Federal law enforcement until retirement. (Note: Dozens of my friends have quit that nascent agency. Every air marshal worth his salt has looked for another job.)
The guys at my Reserve unit were very understanding, but I wasn’t able to make up all the days I needed to make my time count towards retirement. (Note: an air marshal’s schedule is so terribly busy and the last thing you want to do on your limited days off is work instead of recover. Flying all the time—way more than flight attendants and pilots—does some serious damage to your health. Two weeks on the ground would have felt wonderful, but it never happened in my three years of flying.)
Here’s where the crazy part comes in.
Finally, I felt I really needed to go to drill so I could get my retirement points and serve in my military leadership capacity with the troops I supervised. I brought it up to Bill K….. He got upset that I’d even bring it up because it would cause a ‘conflict’ in the schedule, even though (once again) I had emailed him my drill dates several months previously.
He asked me to write up a memo, which I did. In the memo I wrote that he told me that I could not go to drill and that I had not been able to go for the last four months. He looked at (I think) and then took it in to an Assistant Special Agent in Charge, one of the original 33 FAMs there prior to 9/11.
Later, Bill K…. called me up on the phone (I was driving home) and proceeded to literally swear and cuss at me, calling me names and telling me that I made him look bad in front of his supervisor. Obviously, he must have been told that what he had done was totally illegal. I listened, calmly and patient, but inside it was just one more thing that made my work environment so unbearable.
It was the last, but certainly not the only, berating I received. I put up with more government corruption and abuse than I thought was possible. It was a sweet day when I gave my two weeks notice.
Even though I’m searching for a job (which is pretty stressful in and of itself), and even though being in Iraq has been pretty tough and horrible in its own way, I wouldn’t go back to the Federal Air Marshal Service no way, no how. To tell you the truth, being in Iraq is better than working as an air marshal. Several former air marshals are working here now as private security contractors. And, you know, at least here in Iraq, I have a fighting chance. The anonymity of American air marshals—the one necessary thing that will save them, the crew, the passengers and the plane—was obliterated under former FAMS Director Tom Quinn and it will be nearly impossible to get back.
Last month the media reported that al Qaeda was going to shift its tactics and look for targets of better opportunity outside of Mesopotamia (a.k.a. Iraq). To my not-so-undercover brothers on commercial airplanes, I say: Watch Your Backs! And I mean that in more ways than just one.
As I think about how I’ve ended up in this precarious situation, I feel there’s a lot the citizens of America should know.
Those who serve in the Military Reserves are often shunned in the workplace. They are often surreptitiously passed up for promotion and job opportunities. Sure, it’s illegal for anyone to do that, but I’m telling you, it happens. Something similar happened to me.
Serving three years as an undercover Federal Air Marshal (FAM) was interesting, to say the least. My first and only experience as a Federal employee, aside from my military service was, frankly, rotten. I saw corruption, abuse of authority, in-fighting and foolish government practices. I saw nepotism and unfair treatment. Who would of thunk it? Yeap, our federal government has some serious issues. The worst part of all is the airports and airlines still aren’t safe!
Things were so terrible at the end of three years with the FAM Service that I wanted to do anything—anything—other than work as a government employee. I finally got an opportunity to be self-employed, and I secured a promising contract with a U.S. government customer. However, when the Reserves called me up, I lost the opportunity I was told would have been perpetual. The government has mandated that any Military Reservist who is called to go to war MUST receive their same job when they return. Obviously, that doesn’t apply to those who are self-employed…even if it is for a U.S. government customer.
Heck, I only stayed in the Reserves because the cost for family health insurance for those who are self-employed in America is totally outlandish! So much for the government wanting to help more American’s become entrepreneurs! Now I’m getting side-tracked. Where was I? Oh, yes…
The last terrible thing that occurred to me before leaving the Federal Air Marshal Service had to do with my being in the Military Reserves. I was told by my direct supervisor, Assistant to the Special Agent in Charge, Bill K….., that I could NOT go to my scheduled military drill which was held on the first weekend of every month. That was totally illegal for him to say that, but being the guy I was, I didn’t fight it. I’m sure he knew that what he had said was illegal, though. He had been a Marine Corps officer in the Reserves himself! I figured I could miss one or two and try to make them up. In fact, that’s what he told me to do, although that wasn’t what I wanted. The bad thing was, it kept happening month after month after month.
I was told by Bill K…. that I could not go to drill again and again because I was continually being scheduled to work on weekends. Bill, my supervisor told me that he could not change the schedules—even though I had given my Military Reserve schedule to him several months in advance. He just didn’t bother to take me off flight status for those days. It was his mistake.
Here’s the clincher: While flying overseas I made several hundred dollars more in per diem and overtime. Bill K…. told me, and it was known around the Field Office, that if I missed out on one overseas flight, I would lose all that extra money in per diem and overtime pay. Furthermore, I was told that if I were taken off the schedule for just two day to attend my military drill that I would miss about 6 or 7 international trips and all the money that it included. But it wasn’t just the money, flying overseas was the pinnacle of the job. It was, you’ll remember, right after the London Bomb Plot—suicidal terrorists wanted to blow U.S. and British planes up in mid-flight over the Atlantic Ocean. I wanted to stop that! That was my job. That’s why I joined the air marshals.
I consulted with two other air marshals in my Field Office who were also in the military Reserves. They too said that they were treated unfairly by the FAM Service for being in the Reserves. They had been ostracized, missed opportunities for professional development within the Federal government, and had been passed up in promotion (even though, knowing their backgrounds very well, both much more qualified than the people who were being promoted).
On that, I called the military Staff Judge Advocate—or JAG, the military lawyers. They told me that I needed to pursue something on the government side of the house. I called the Office of Special Counsel once and I got the number of an ombudsman, but I didn’t pursue anything. In retrospect, I should have, but I feared for my job!
I was so fed up with the government bureaucracy, the unethical decisions I saw from government supervisors, and much, much more that I just wanted out. Moreover, I feared retaliation if I spoke up. I had seen others get in trouble for trying to do their jobs well. Also, I had already been castigated by the Special Agent in Charge (SAC), Michael DeMarte, for asking a legitimate question about the lack of FAM’s anonymity and media reports when I very first arrived at the Field Office. (By the way, a House Judiciary Committee report later fully supported what I had observed and recommended during that open Q&A forum before a certain Deputy Assistant Director and SAC DeMarte. There’s a lot more to that story…which I’ll save for my book.)
Before, and especially after, the Miami International Airport shooting—when two FAMs shot and killed a man who claimed he had a bomb—I asked if I could teach my class on suicide bomber identification and interdiction. I had even been asked by SWAT legend Larry Glick and the International Tactical Officer’s Training Association (http://www.itota.net/) to teach several police officers a few months before in another state, which I did. My request to help share the information I had learned and was knowledgeable about, fell on deaf ears at the Federal government level. …And you thought the communication and overall cooperation for success against terrorism improved after September 11th. Pshaw.
As mentioned, I saw what had happened to others who filed grievances. Many guys were suspended for frivolous things, and their legal rights were usurped. So, instead of going against the grain, I figured I’d just find another job—pretty sad too, considering I had gone into the FAM Service with full intentions of staying in the Federal law enforcement until retirement. (Note: Dozens of my friends have quit that nascent agency. Every air marshal worth his salt has looked for another job.)
The guys at my Reserve unit were very understanding, but I wasn’t able to make up all the days I needed to make my time count towards retirement. (Note: an air marshal’s schedule is so terribly busy and the last thing you want to do on your limited days off is work instead of recover. Flying all the time—way more than flight attendants and pilots—does some serious damage to your health. Two weeks on the ground would have felt wonderful, but it never happened in my three years of flying.)
Here’s where the crazy part comes in.
Finally, I felt I really needed to go to drill so I could get my retirement points and serve in my military leadership capacity with the troops I supervised. I brought it up to Bill K….. He got upset that I’d even bring it up because it would cause a ‘conflict’ in the schedule, even though (once again) I had emailed him my drill dates several months previously.
He asked me to write up a memo, which I did. In the memo I wrote that he told me that I could not go to drill and that I had not been able to go for the last four months. He looked at (I think) and then took it in to an Assistant Special Agent in Charge, one of the original 33 FAMs there prior to 9/11.
Later, Bill K…. called me up on the phone (I was driving home) and proceeded to literally swear and cuss at me, calling me names and telling me that I made him look bad in front of his supervisor. Obviously, he must have been told that what he had done was totally illegal. I listened, calmly and patient, but inside it was just one more thing that made my work environment so unbearable.
It was the last, but certainly not the only, berating I received. I put up with more government corruption and abuse than I thought was possible. It was a sweet day when I gave my two weeks notice.
Even though I’m searching for a job (which is pretty stressful in and of itself), and even though being in Iraq has been pretty tough and horrible in its own way, I wouldn’t go back to the Federal Air Marshal Service no way, no how. To tell you the truth, being in Iraq is better than working as an air marshal. Several former air marshals are working here now as private security contractors. And, you know, at least here in Iraq, I have a fighting chance. The anonymity of American air marshals—the one necessary thing that will save them, the crew, the passengers and the plane—was obliterated under former FAMS Director Tom Quinn and it will be nearly impossible to get back.
Last month the media reported that al Qaeda was going to shift its tactics and look for targets of better opportunity outside of Mesopotamia (a.k.a. Iraq). To my not-so-undercover brothers on commercial airplanes, I say: Watch Your Backs! And I mean that in more ways than just one.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
My Top Blogs
Since this is the 101st posting since I’ve begun blogging (which sometimes I feel is more of a ‘weird blog’ than a ‘war blog’), I thought I’d give links to a few of the better blogs below—the ones I’ve enjoyed writing the most, or the ones with the best message.
For a comical, but true description of my room and living conditions, see Fleas, Rats and Port-a-Johns.
The thoughts and memories of Cops for Christmas make me feel good inside. It’s a message I’d like to share more than just during the holiday season.
Of course, Military Death Notifications and A Tribute to My Brothers-in-Arms, the Marines, speak volumes about those in military service.
If you want to know why I’ve tried to have a good attitude while I’ve been here, regardless of whether or not you or I think this is a just war or not, read ‘Daddy, Why do You Have to Leave?’
Of course, I’ve often had A Rotten Attitude, nonetheless. This blog might make you think twice before whining. Of course, I have had the attitude of gratitude too, like during Thanksgiving in Iraq.
Most people don’t know what’s it’s like to be pulled away from their families for a year or more, and go to war. To understand the feelings of homesickness, and how badly I miss my kids, read ‘Oh it hurts me so to watch my baby grow up in pictures.’
It would be terrible without support from home. See A Tribute to My Angel Wife if you want to know how fortunate I am.
Some haven’t been as lucky. My Friend was Shot and Killed only a few weeks after being married to his sweetheart. I still stay in touch with her occasionally and only wish I could do more to console her aching heart. We both wish Brian were still alive.
Lastly, if you want to learn my perspectives, not only on war but on leadership and life, I’ll refer you to My Going to War Advice and Internal Cleansing of America’s Social Disasters. On that last note, I have thought about running for a political office one day.
And, finally, my all-time favorite: if you read anything I’ve ever written, please read about the real American heroes on my pick for Person of the Year. Please read Person of the Year and pass it around to everyone you know.
For a comical, but true description of my room and living conditions, see Fleas, Rats and Port-a-Johns.
The thoughts and memories of Cops for Christmas make me feel good inside. It’s a message I’d like to share more than just during the holiday season.
Of course, Military Death Notifications and A Tribute to My Brothers-in-Arms, the Marines, speak volumes about those in military service.
If you want to know why I’ve tried to have a good attitude while I’ve been here, regardless of whether or not you or I think this is a just war or not, read ‘Daddy, Why do You Have to Leave?’
Of course, I’ve often had A Rotten Attitude, nonetheless. This blog might make you think twice before whining. Of course, I have had the attitude of gratitude too, like during Thanksgiving in Iraq.
Most people don’t know what’s it’s like to be pulled away from their families for a year or more, and go to war. To understand the feelings of homesickness, and how badly I miss my kids, read ‘Oh it hurts me so to watch my baby grow up in pictures.’
It would be terrible without support from home. See A Tribute to My Angel Wife if you want to know how fortunate I am.
Some haven’t been as lucky. My Friend was Shot and Killed only a few weeks after being married to his sweetheart. I still stay in touch with her occasionally and only wish I could do more to console her aching heart. We both wish Brian were still alive.
Lastly, if you want to learn my perspectives, not only on war but on leadership and life, I’ll refer you to My Going to War Advice and Internal Cleansing of America’s Social Disasters. On that last note, I have thought about running for a political office one day.
And, finally, my all-time favorite: if you read anything I’ve ever written, please read about the real American heroes on my pick for Person of the Year. Please read Person of the Year and pass it around to everyone you know.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
LAPD SWAT Officer Memorial
Los Angeles Police Officer Randy Simmons who was killed last week in a SWAT operation (pictured above)Me at Camp Pendleton’s Marine Corps’ Special Operations Training Group ‘shoot-house’ where LAPD Special Weapons and Tactics (SWAT) team trains (pictured above)
When a police friend of mine sent me a note saying that it was Officer Randal Simmons that died, I got a little choked up. I remember a few names and several faces of the good men I met with LAPD SWAT when I attended their Advanced SWAT School several years ago with other members of the tactical law enforcement community. Randy’s name and face, I remember.
He was shot and killed last week by a barricaded gunman. He led a wonderful life and he will be missed.
Click here to see news video of his 15-year-old son speaking about his dad at the memorial services, as well as other commentary on the good life of Randy Simmons. http://video.knbc.com/player/?id=218888
NOTE: Trust funds have been established for LAPD SWAT Officers Randal Simmons through the Los Angeles Police Federal Credit Union (LAPFC). To make a donation, please go to: http://www.lapfcu.org/and click on the red square titled "LAPFCU Community Corner." Donations may also be received by mail:
LAPFCU Blue Ribbon Trust Fund/Officer Randal Simmons
Acct. 2030077-product code S4.12 16150
Sherman Way
Van Nuys, CA 91410
(877) 695-2732
Monday, February 18, 2008
Che Guevara, Hero or Zero?
The latest news is that some Obama campaigner also likes Che. I’m not going to comment on that one, but I thought the picture of the Cuban flag adorned with the famous picture of one of the biggest anti-heroes on earth was worth posting nonetheless.
I’ve been eager for some time now to give a tidbit on Ernesto “Che” Guevara. As one who’s studied numerous revolutions/counterrevolutions and insurgencies/counterinsurgencies, I know a side to Che Guevara like not many other do. Moreover, I happen to know some other secrets about Che from the grandson of the man who took his famous picture.
Che is not someone to be idolized. No Marxist revolutionary-murderer should be. He is not a hero or an icon. He is no friend of goodness, justice, equity or fairness. Beside Fidel Castro he pulled off a coup that would usurp the Cuban people of whatever hope they would have had for freedom in the future and replaced it instead with a totalitarian rule that has burdened the people of the communist island since 1959. There’s a good reason why so many Cubans have fled to Florida: FREEDOM. The others simply don’t know any better. They’ve never tasted freedom.
My friend, the grandson of the famous Cuban photographer Alberto Korda, fled Cuba with his father when he was a child. He doesn’t tell most people about his families’ background, but he told me. My friend loves America’s freedom and despises the communism of Cuba. My Cuban-American friend detests Castro and Che, even though his grandfather was a personal photographer for both men.
My friend’s sister is a psychologist. One of her clients went to the Cuban jail years ago when the totalitarian regime held her son. She pleaded and begged to see her son. Che, alive at the time and at the jail, said, “You want to see your son?! You want to see your son?!” The guards brought him over and before he could embrace his mother, Che shot him in cold blood. He murdered this woman’s son right in front of him. And, this was not an isolated event! Che was an evil man. Period.
It’s repulsive to me that his face is on flags, T-shirts, coffee mugs, and hats. He’s idolized by those who are either foolish, brainwashed, ignorant, or just plain supporters of Marxism and murder! It made my stomach sick to hear reports that the movie “The Motorcycle Diaries” idolized him, and that last year a man with too much money on his hands, purchased locks of his hair for more money than most any Cuban has ever held at one time—or likely ever will.
Now I’m on my soapbox!
After Che helped ruin Cuba, he went to sub-Saharan Africa and got his tactics handed to him by British commandos. As the loser he is (yes, sometimes we need to stand up and call evil, evil), he lost and went to Bolivia where U.S. Special Forces in joint-ops with the CIA stopped him for good.
Isn’t it horrible that Time magazine would honor this guy as a ‘hero and icon’? I think they got that one wrong (calling evil good). Just like it was a bit strange that they’d honor Putin as their Person of the Year, last year. Well, here’s something you MUST read. It’s the real Person of the Year. There’s no deception there.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Friday, February 15, 2008
Tugging at My Heart Strings
I learned something today that pulled on my heart strings. My mom said that when my wife and our kids were visiting her over Christmas that my oldest son saw the sign on her living room wall that read ‘Home Sweet Home’.
“Grandma, do you really believe that?” He asked innocently.
“Yes,” my mom replied, eager to know what my son was thinking. “Do you?” He told her he didn’t know because I was gone all the time. She almost started to cry.
I think about hanging out with my boy nearly everyday. When I used to tuck him in to bed, I’d give him a big hug and say, “you’re my best friend. I love you, buddy.”
“I love you too, dad.”
I just wrote him a really long letter. In fact, I wrote all the kids. I feel so bad being away. It hurts him and it really hurts me too. I don't want him to suffer like I did when I didn't have a dad around. More than once, I remember wishing I could play catch with a dad like the other kids did. No one should be blamed. Divorce happens. That’s the fact of life.
Unfortunately, I've been away for a large part of my kids’ life. I hate it, and I didn’t volunteer for this deployment, but on the other hand, I need a job. It's a terrible balancing act. It’s a warrior’s bane.
The day before one of my co-workers died, his son, then 9 or 10 years old, told him on the phone that he hated him for always being away. I know the boy didn't mean it; he was just hurt and wanted to see his dad. Of course, his dad felt horrible about it and told everyone. The worst part is, he was blown up by a bomb the very next day. The poor kid will have to live with that forever—that he told his dad he hated him just before he died.
If I could do one thing today it would be to tell those closest to me how much I love them, and if I’ve ever done anything to cause them pain, then I’m sorry. I think if we did that often enough, we would have more peace in our family relationships and communities, and greater peace throughout the nation and the world. …And then I could come home. We could all come home.
We’d all be wise to follow the diplomatic and tactful statesman, Woodrow Wilson, who said:
If you can come to me and say, ‘Let us sit down and take counsel together, and, if we differ from one another, understand why it is that we differ from one another, just what the points are, ‘we will presently find that we are not so far apart after all, that the points on which we differ are few and the points on which we agree are many, and that if we only have the patience and the candor and the desire to get together, we will get together.
May the Lord bless us with peace and love at home. The strength of our communities and nation lies with strengthening the fundamental unit of society: our families.
“Grandma, do you really believe that?” He asked innocently.
“Yes,” my mom replied, eager to know what my son was thinking. “Do you?” He told her he didn’t know because I was gone all the time. She almost started to cry.
I think about hanging out with my boy nearly everyday. When I used to tuck him in to bed, I’d give him a big hug and say, “you’re my best friend. I love you, buddy.”
“I love you too, dad.”
I just wrote him a really long letter. In fact, I wrote all the kids. I feel so bad being away. It hurts him and it really hurts me too. I don't want him to suffer like I did when I didn't have a dad around. More than once, I remember wishing I could play catch with a dad like the other kids did. No one should be blamed. Divorce happens. That’s the fact of life.
Unfortunately, I've been away for a large part of my kids’ life. I hate it, and I didn’t volunteer for this deployment, but on the other hand, I need a job. It's a terrible balancing act. It’s a warrior’s bane.
The day before one of my co-workers died, his son, then 9 or 10 years old, told him on the phone that he hated him for always being away. I know the boy didn't mean it; he was just hurt and wanted to see his dad. Of course, his dad felt horrible about it and told everyone. The worst part is, he was blown up by a bomb the very next day. The poor kid will have to live with that forever—that he told his dad he hated him just before he died.
If I could do one thing today it would be to tell those closest to me how much I love them, and if I’ve ever done anything to cause them pain, then I’m sorry. I think if we did that often enough, we would have more peace in our family relationships and communities, and greater peace throughout the nation and the world. …And then I could come home. We could all come home.
We’d all be wise to follow the diplomatic and tactful statesman, Woodrow Wilson, who said:
If you can come to me and say, ‘Let us sit down and take counsel together, and, if we differ from one another, understand why it is that we differ from one another, just what the points are, ‘we will presently find that we are not so far apart after all, that the points on which we differ are few and the points on which we agree are many, and that if we only have the patience and the candor and the desire to get together, we will get together.
May the Lord bless us with peace and love at home. The strength of our communities and nation lies with strengthening the fundamental unit of society: our families.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Happiness: War’s Social Faux Pas
I’d like to personally thank the guy or gal who invented Instant Messaging. With a webcam I can see my wife and kids over the Internet and ‘chat’ with them often. It’s a modern-day miracle! (ughum, thanks Al Gore.) After chatting and then going to work out while listening to my ipod, the natural joy chemicals started to flow. I feel like singing at the top of my lungs. But I’ve learned I should not be too happy at war.
Today I heard that a really good soldier went home for his two weeks of ‘Rest and Recuperation’, and on the last day of his leave he checked himself into the hospital for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). I’ve already heard a few people offer him no pity. They say it was a ploy to stay home. Ploy or not, if the man is desperate enough to admit himself into the hospital for severe mental health issues, there’s clearly something wrong! There isn’t much sympathy in an organization that’s developed a ‘suck-it-up and drive-on, soldier’ mentality.
When I came back from leave, I was happier than ever. When someone asked rhetorically how I was doing, I replied like I always had prior to coming to Iraq. I’d say with energy and enthusiasm, zest and belief, “Wonderful” or “Super”, or “Couldn’t be better unless I were twins”, to borrow my uncle’s line.
The response I received wasn’t good. In fact, others would look at me like they didn’t want to be around someone so happy. Everyone walked around with a sour puss. Talk about gloomy! After being back now about three weeks, my overall enthusiasm has begun to wane. Except for the unusual joy I’m feeling now, the trolls have pretty much branded me with their contagious infection. The truth is, it’s not very polite to be so happy when everyone else is gloomy.
Yesterday someone asked me how I was. “I’m surviving,” I said, trying to blend in. “How are you?” I added.
“I could be better.” We seemed to agree with each other’s plight, and then simultaneously walked away with our heads down to the ground and our bottom lip dragging near our combat boots.
I think the next time someone asks, “How’s life treating you?” I should respond, “Like a baby treats a diaper!”
Whaa, whaa! Let’s just all go eat a plate full of worms.
ENERGIZE!
Today I heard that a really good soldier went home for his two weeks of ‘Rest and Recuperation’, and on the last day of his leave he checked himself into the hospital for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). I’ve already heard a few people offer him no pity. They say it was a ploy to stay home. Ploy or not, if the man is desperate enough to admit himself into the hospital for severe mental health issues, there’s clearly something wrong! There isn’t much sympathy in an organization that’s developed a ‘suck-it-up and drive-on, soldier’ mentality.
When I came back from leave, I was happier than ever. When someone asked rhetorically how I was doing, I replied like I always had prior to coming to Iraq. I’d say with energy and enthusiasm, zest and belief, “Wonderful” or “Super”, or “Couldn’t be better unless I were twins”, to borrow my uncle’s line.
The response I received wasn’t good. In fact, others would look at me like they didn’t want to be around someone so happy. Everyone walked around with a sour puss. Talk about gloomy! After being back now about three weeks, my overall enthusiasm has begun to wane. Except for the unusual joy I’m feeling now, the trolls have pretty much branded me with their contagious infection. The truth is, it’s not very polite to be so happy when everyone else is gloomy.
Yesterday someone asked me how I was. “I’m surviving,” I said, trying to blend in. “How are you?” I added.
“I could be better.” We seemed to agree with each other’s plight, and then simultaneously walked away with our heads down to the ground and our bottom lip dragging near our combat boots.
I think the next time someone asks, “How’s life treating you?” I should respond, “Like a baby treats a diaper!”
Whaa, whaa! Let’s just all go eat a plate full of worms.
ENERGIZE!
Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell
“Hey First Sergeant,” I said with some enthusiasm when he walked into the room. “How are you?”
“Good, sir. How are you?” He replied.
“Fantastic.” I lied, and then confessed with some sarcasm and truth, “It’s Valentine’s Day and I have no one to kiss.” I thought of my wife.
“You haven’t asked me yet!” He quipped, and we both laughed.
Poor guy—he started a new family when he married a nice divorced woman. They were only married one month when he had to leave to come here. Suffice it to say, he has told me he’s ready to retire.
“Good, sir. How are you?” He replied.
“Fantastic.” I lied, and then confessed with some sarcasm and truth, “It’s Valentine’s Day and I have no one to kiss.” I thought of my wife.
“You haven’t asked me yet!” He quipped, and we both laughed.
Poor guy—he started a new family when he married a nice divorced woman. They were only married one month when he had to leave to come here. Suffice it to say, he has told me he’s ready to retire.
Dwindling Work Performance and Standards
Not only have the boots and the uniforms changed from when I first entered the Army, but the overall discipline of the troops seems to be a bit different too. (Perhaps this hilarious video sheds some light on why.)
…Of course, now everything’s run by computers and electronic maps too. Call me old fashioned, but I prefer a good map, protractor and compass to a GPS, and a sturdy pen and pad to an e-notepad computer.
The computers went down not long ago and the war operations just about halted. I’m not exaggerating (well, maybe just a little).
There was a time when a WWII written operations order for a major battle involving several divisions might have been only 25 pages…to include appendices! Now a company order—incredibly smaller than a division-sized element—is much longer than that (i.e. 35 electronic pages complete with colorful graphs, charts, and unnecessary bells and whistles). And that's no exaggeration!
I think we’ve just created more work for ourselves—more emails to check (and write) and more busy work to do. With the advent of wonderful technology has come an overload of information and an excess ability to produce just about anything we want. That’s why it’s essential to never ‘major in the minors’, a term I have used often when speaking on leadership, self-improvement and quality organizational management. Stay on task. Concentrate. Too often, entire organizations fall because of this complex issue, and individual workers spend more time reading and forwarding 'junk mail' than getting their jobs done in an effective and efficient manner.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Skilled Artist-Terrorist
I received this picture a few years ago from a friend who was here in Iraq. You can see two U.S. military men holding the confiscated picture on either side.
I’m not going to give an opinion either way about the war in Iraq in connection with Weapons of Mass Destruction, the WTC collapse and Saddam Hussein except to point out that the artist must have surely liked both 9/11 and Hussein—or at least thought Hussein liked it.
I’m not going to give an opinion either way about the war in Iraq in connection with Weapons of Mass Destruction, the WTC collapse and Saddam Hussein except to point out that the artist must have surely liked both 9/11 and Hussein—or at least thought Hussein liked it.
Does anyone know what the Arabic says?
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