Galloway’s ‘unseemly circus’

It’s hardly noteworthy when a newspaper columnist criticizes the Bush administration for its handling of the war in Iraq, but Joseph [tag]Galloway[/tag] isn’t just another newspaper columnist.

Galloway has more than four decades as a reporter and writer, and is widely considered a preeminent expert on military affairs. He’s a decorated Vietnam correspondent, he’s a friend to top generals at the Pentagon, and he served as a special consultant to Gen. Colin Powell at the State Department. Gen. Norman Schwarzkopf described Galloway as “the finest combat correspondent of our generation – a soldier’s reporter and a soldier’s friend.”

And right now, Galloway isn’t hiding his disgust for the Bush administration. It’s not just the White House playing semantics games about “stay the course” and parsing the meaning of “water-boarding,” though Galloway does find that annoying, it’s also the Bush gang’s under-reported funding decisions.

[T]he White House that says nothing is too good for our troops has turned its back on a plea by Army leaders for a $25 billion increase in its 2008 budget so it can carry out the missions the administration has assigned to it.
The White House Office of Management and Budget rejected Army chief Gen. Peter J. Schoomaker’s extraordinary plea by for the additional funds to pay for repairing and replacing thousands of worn out and blown up tanks, Bradley fighting vehicles and Humvees.

Instead of the $25 billion that Schoomaker says the Army needs just to keep doing what it’s been doing with spit, adhesive tape and baling wire for the last five years, the Pentagon says the Army can have $7 billion.

The president declared himself confident that Republicans would sweep to victory and maintain their stranglehold on both houses of a Congress that’s done nothing but rubberstamp Bush’s war policies and Republican efforts to enrich their fat-cat donors and themselves, of course.

I’m not sure why the OMB’s decision on the Schoomaker budget didn’t generate more headlines, but it certainly says a great deal about the administration’s priorities.

Galloway also steps back to look at the big picture.

This unseemly circus and its clowns in Congress can’t go away fast enough and with enough dishonor and disgrace to suit the circumstances. Their place in America’s history is secure: They will go down as the worst administration and the worst Congress we’ve ever had. Period. (emphasis added)

They deserve to lose both the House and the Senate on Nov. 7, and the White House in 2008. They bullied their way into a war that they thought would be a slam-dunk and then so bungled things that the only superpower left in the world has been humbled and hobbled in a world that they’ve made more dangerous for us.

Thanks, guys. You’ve done a heckuva job. We won’t forget it.

Again, it’s worth reemphasizing Galloway’s unique credibility here — it’s fair to describe as the most respected reporter on military affairs in the country. When Paul Krugman or Molly Ivins, both of whom I hold in the highest regard, write a column like this, the political establishment largely just shrugs its shoulders. With Galloway eviscerating the GOP, it’s a bigger deal.

This is what I don’t get about the Bush administration. I can understand incompetence, corruption, and being enslaved to a hideous ideology. I can even understand trying to subvert democracy by voter intimidation, deregristration, extreme gerrymandering, and so forth according to the political advantage of the party in power. I don’t agree with any of these things, but I can understand them as a nasty part of human nature. However, I don’t get why Bush and his Republicans are so adamantly averse to doing the obvious right things when there’s absolutely no political cost involved. Port security should be a nonpartisan no-brainer. Funding a group of people to concentrate on finding Bin Laden should be another no-brainer. Equipping our soldiers properly (as well as ensuring adequate pay, supplying armor, decent hospitalization, research into head wounds, and so forth) should be another no-brainer. I don’t get it.

  • I’m coming to believe there is no connection between the republican brain and the mouth. They say whatever they want without recognizing — or caring — that it has bearing on reality.

  • Although money seems to have no meaning for them, they are stingy. They throw billions around and run up huge deficits, but on important stuff they get stingy. Bush is as arbitrary with the military as he is with everything else, but tax cuts. The Reps have stingy souls.

  • Joe Galloway is a good man, and a great reporter. He cowrote one of the seminal books on Vietnam We Were Soldiers Once – And Young, which I highly recommend, by the way.

    What I can’t understand is how the Repugs successfully paint themselves as the party that supports the military – and why so many military personnel vote for them – when it’s obviously a lie and always has been. My father was a career military man and inevitably had to wait for the Dems to get voted in to get a frickin’ raise, for God’s sake.

  • To answer N. Wells’ question and to further expose what Galloway alludes to: Bush and the Republicans have no problem throwing away millions and billions of our tax dollars — as long as they can leverage that into mere thousands in campaign contributions. Buying new humvees won’t grease the politcal wheels. Sorry, soldiers lose, but that’s just the cost of electing Republicans.

  • Speaking of cheap Republicans…

    Let’s not forget that the rank-and-file officers of the NYPD, “America’s 9/11 heroes,” couldn’t stand Giuliani, because for four years he wouldn’t give them a raise.

  • And Bush said let there be war, and there was war and such a cock-up the world had never seen.

    Galloway gives us one more reasons to hate clowns. I wonder how long it will take the ReFuglican Spin Machine to start calling him names (tick tock, tick tock). But that’s ShrubCo for you. It grasped the idea that words (lies) can trump facts, but it hasn’t (can’t, won’t) gotten its head round the idea that eventually people will notice the gap between words and reality. It’s a trick that will only take you so far before you have to do something to back up the words, change your words or flee the angry mob.

    Therefore, ShrubCo continues to squawk “We support the troops,” and expects every one to be satisfied with the statement alone. How else does one explain the sputtering and anger when people keep calling them liars and harping about body armor? When ShrubCo says a thing that should be the end of the discussion from their beady eyed point of view: “I, the great and powerful chimp have spoken!”

    Either that or that collection of evil clowns really does think that soldiers should be satisfied with an empty platitude when the shrapnel starts to fly.

  • N. Wells,

    The overall theme of epoch-ShrubCo seems to be destruction. Everything they have touched they have diminished or destroyed and they have replaced what was there with slogans and mirrors. What is there in the world to demonstrate that ShrubCo has built anything at all with it’s boring mantras and it’s wasted billions?

  • People, Bu$h’s motivation is solely to enrich the wealthy plutocrats that are his base, nothing less, nothing more. From tax cuts, to the invasion of Iraq, to the aftermath of Katrina, anything this administration has ever done only serves those who will profit, which of course are those that run our little puppet government right now.

    I guess there are a lot of really stupid Americans out there after all. It is sad.

  • The Bushites defined how America would support our troops when Boy George II told us to go out to the mall and buy a yellow magnet to stick on our cars while we do our other shopping.

    Shouldn’t that have been warning enough?

    The only people being asked to sacrifice for this war are the kids who foolishly sign a contract with the United States Government. Certainly not BG2’s Base of the Haves and Have Mores.

    And Rummy won’t pony up the $25,000,000,000 to fix the Army because he just spent it on the United States Ship George Herbert Walker Bush, which for some unexplained reason is a Nuclear-powered Air Craft Carrier (CVN) rather than a garbage scow.

  • You do have to wonder, incidentically, why the Repugs aren’t giving the Army enough money to fix the vast piles of wrecked APCs and tanks that this war has piled up. My own guess would be so they can enrich selected contractors by buying entirely new equipment to replace the damaged goods, such as the fairly useless Stryker series of vehicles.

  • beep52: I’m coming to believe there is no connection between the republican brain and the mouth. They say whatever they want without recognizing — or caring — that it has bearing on reality.

    I believe beep52 is onto something, and he’s not the first to say it. I was recently struck by the same thought expressed beautifully by Lance Mannion, and have been sharing the link around. It’s a well written piece that says it far better than I can myself.

  • His credibility only matter to those who are still in full possession of their common sense. To the rabid Bush supporters he can have all the “credibility” in the world but he doesn’t support the president in this issue (won’t speak to others) and therefore he can be a best ignored or at worst vilified.

  • @ #12 [Susan]

    Exactly. And considering the fact that an order for a new piece of equipment placed today might arrive where it is needed a year later, it means the ReFugs can say “Hey, we tried.” And of course when the transport vehicle turns out to have some fatal flaw (doesn’t run well in a desert environment) the contractor can charge to fix it and the soldier never gets the bloody thing.

  • Actually, the Stryker has turned out to be a pretty good vehicle. Has the speed and manuverabilty you need in todays urban environment. And it’s ready NOW, not like the decades-long programs that are nothing more than government subsidies for defense contractors.

    What’s a waste of precious funds are the Future Combat Systems family of armored vehicles, the DDX destroyer program, the F-35 Joint Strike Fighter, National Missile Defense, and every one of Rummy’s super-duper space-based terrorists zappers: ( http://www.globalsecurity.org/military/systems/munitions/rattlrs.htm & http://www.globalsecurity.org/space/systems/hcv.htm to name a few)

  • The Stryker is good only for “police type” actions. It has very light armor and its cross-country mobility, while decent, isn’t as good as a fully tracked vehicle. Basically, it’s an overpriced armored car, adopted in a hell of hurry with very little oversight. And unlike you, 2Manchu, I’m not so sure that conventional warfare is extinct. The F-35 in particular is going to be an important strike aircraft well into the middle of the 21st century.

  • “Police actions” have pretty much dominated US foreign policy over the past 50 years.
    And the Stryker wasn’t designed to replace the Abrams and Bradleys, contrary to its detractors. It was designed to provide protection that was better than armored Humvees, but also not so preponderous to move by air like the M-1 and M-2.
    It’s armor can stop most RPG rounds, but not your bigger IEDs. But then again, I’ve seen pictures of the big boys gutted by massive roadside bombs.
    Of course, the last word on the Stryker should come from the troops who use it. I suggest going to Colby Buzzell’s weblog ( http://cbftw.blogspot.com/ ) or this Defense Industry Daily report from last year ( http://www.defenseindustrydaily.com/2005/10/m1126-strykers-in-combat-experiences-lessons/index.php )

    Not saying this is you, but I feel that a lot of the Stryker critics’ isn’t aimed at the vehicle itself.
    This vehicle was a project of the former Army CoS Eric Shinseki, who was Clinton’s boy, and who had also taken away the Rangers’ precious black beret and let female soldiers wear them.

    I agree with you that conventional war isn’t extinct, but I don’t think we should sacrifice money for weapon systems that are still a decade away from deployment, when we have problems that need to be addressed NOW.

    The F-35 might turn out to be a great fighter, but it’s IOC won’t be until 2011-13, barring any glitches.

  • Joe Galloway has been PLAGERIZING works of Ernie Pyle and mirroring Pyles life.

    Subject: RE: Joe Galloway has been PLAGERIZING works of Ernie Pyle and mirroring Pyles life
    Date: 1/11/2007 9:54:29 A.M. Pacific Standard Time
    From: dbrown@mcclatchydc.com
    Reply To:
    To: Lzalbany65@aol.com
    CC:
    BCC:
    Sent on:

    http://hometown.aol.com/lzalbany65/myhomepage/

    Russell L. Ross

    1741 maysong ct

    San Jose, CA 95131

    PH 408 926-9336

    http://hometown.aol.com/lzalbany65/myhomepage/

    Rudyard Kipling verse, Joe Galloway’s down fall.

    Joe Galloway Military reporter VITENAM co author of We Were Soldiers Once and Young,

    has been PLAGERIZING the works of Ernie Pyle and mirroring Pyles life.

    strange everthing Pyle has done Galloway has done.

    We Were Soldiers Once and Young has Ernie Pyle’s style of writing in it.

    Joe Galloway has the complete works of Ernie Pyle.

    Joe Galloway took this statement by Ridgway, a Kipling verse ( Galloway prints a lot of

    Kiplings Verses and it seems that he would know all of Kipling verses?), its from Ernie Pyles

    works.

    But even Ridgway had it wrong.

    Joe Galloway took Kipling verse from Ernies book as fact, and makes an entire

    speech about a untrue statement.

    From Ernie Pyles War. by James Tobin 1997

    Hardback page 107, Softback page107

    As Ernie and his friends listened, Ridgway recited a favorite passage from memory.

    It was Kiplings tribute to war reporters:

    I have eaten your bread and salt.
    I have drunk your water and wine.
    In deaths ye died I have watched beside,
    And the lives ye led were mine.

    Joe Galloway’s speach
    The Military and the Media:One Man’s Experience below

    Joe Galloway
    “I would leave you with these lines from Rudyard Kipling in which he tried to

    explain his relationship with the British Army.

    They explain something of what I feel:

    I’ve eaten your bread and salt,
    I’ve drunk your water and wine;
    The deaths ye’ve died I’ve watched beside,
    And the lives that ye’ve led were mine.

    Galloway copys it verbatem from Ernie Pyle book.

    But the verse is to Departmental Ditties, Not reporters

    Prelude

    http://www.poetryloverspage.com/poets/kipling/kipling_ind.html

    Prelude

    (to Departmental Ditties)

    I have eaten your bread and salt.
    I have drunk your water and wine.
    In deaths ye died I have watched beside,
    And the lives ye led were mine.

    Was there aught that I did not share
    In vigil or toil or ease, —
    One joy or woe that I did not know,
    Dear hearts across the seas?

    I have written the tale of our life
    For a sheltered people’s mirth,
    In jesting guise — but ye are wise,
    And ye know what the jest is worth.
    Rudyard Kipling

    There are more Plagerised Ernie Pyle in this speech

    Click HERE for Media Relations page.

    The Military and the Media:
    One Man’s Experience

    Joe Galloway, Senior Writer, U.S. News & World Report

    Prepared for delivery 22 October, 1996 at the Commandant’s Lecture Series,

    The Air War College, Maxwell AFB, Ala.

    Thanks to Mr Galloway for permission to use it here.

    ——————————————————————————–

    I can think of no place more appropriate than the Air War College to share the following bit of personal data which was left out of the very kind introductory remarks by the General: I want you to know that I have personally been bombed, rocketed, strafed and napalmed by the U.S. Air Force, the U.S. Navy, the U.S. Marines, U.S. Army Aviation and the air forces of sovereign states of South Vietnam, India and Pakistan, and maybe a couple more I don’t even remember now.

    You will note that I am not an inconsiderable target and yet I am here today, unscathed, unscratched and ready to talk. I hold no grudges; I’m just eternally grateful that in those few instances some guys couldn’t shoot worth a s–t. I hasten to add that in literally hundreds of other instances, when the chips were really down, close air support kept me and a lot of other more deserving guys alive.

    My one enduring image of what air power really means is one that I have carried in my mind and in my heart for more than 30 years. In the Ia Drang Valley in November of 1965 1 found myself with a battalion of the lst Cavalry Division, surrounded by two regiments of North Vietnamese regulars, 400 Americans versus 2,000 enemy. We were clinging desperately to a small clearing called Landing Zone X-Ray. On the morning of the second day we were under attack from three sides. Wave upon wave of enemy soldiers seemed to be literally growing out of the elephant grass. On the southeast perimeter, no more than 50 meters from where I lay, two platoons had been overrun and the line was wavering and cracking. The sergeant major came over, kicked me in the ribs and invited me to get up, make use of my M-16 and defend myself. Our forward air controller, Air Force Lieutenant Charlie Hastings, set aside his rifle and spoke into his radio the code word Broken Arrow. It signaled: “American unit in danger of being overrun.”

    With that, every available air resource in South Vietnam was diverted to our control. They came by the dozens and scores: Air Force, Navy, Marines. Old Spads, F-100’s, F-4s, A-6,s. Charlie Hastings stacked them up over our heads in layers a thousand feet apart from 7,000 to 35,000 feet and they literally built a wall of steel and napalm around us. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life.

    In the middle of all this dust, smoke and confusion a tragic friendly fire incident occurred: A Supersabre unloaded two cans of napalm right into the command post area. They burst no more than 15 meters to the right of the command group and one scared reporter. Several American GI’s were engulfed in the flames. I helped carry one of them out of the burning grass and I can still hear his screams and feel the bare bones of his ankles where the flesh had cooked off rubbing in the palms of my hands to this day. Then I witnessed something very important; something that placed it all in perspective: Lieutenant Charlie Hastings stood, heartstricken and trembling, before the battalion commander and tried to apologize for the terrible error. The commander looked him in the eyes and said: “Don’t worry about that one, Charlie. Just keep ‘em coming.”

    Charlie Hastings kept them coming and that air support was the difference between life and death for the rest of us. That day, just one day past my 24th birthday, I learned that war is a hard and terrible business. Mistakes are made, but you must put them behind you and deal with the job at hand. By the way, Charlie Hastings served 30 years with the Air Force and retired a colonel three years ago. He’s living the good life down in Arizona, trying hard to catch up on a list of Honey Do’s that somehow accumulated over about 30 years. Charlie never forgot what it’s like down there in the mud with the foot soldiers; and none of us ever forgot what it’s like to holler HELP and have it rain down from the skies. Nobody ever won a battle or a war all by himself. It demands teamwork. If they teach you nothing else here and at the Army and Navy War Colleges, I pray to God they teach you that.

    I was asked to give you my reflections on the Military-Media Relationship. That’s awfully high-toned for someone who got his start covering Marine platoons in Vietnam in early 1965, worked his way up to Infantry companies and the occasional battalion-size operation and has always felt slightly uncomfortable with anything larger than that. I will confess, right up front, that I am partial to the Infantry; always have been. Some might find that puzzling if not perverse; that a civilian reporter, given a choice, would choose the hardest and least glamorous part of any war as the part he wishes to cover.

    But there is method in that madness, and I would recommend it to my younger colleagues who may one day be called on to cover war. There, in the mud, is where war is most visible and easiest understood.

    ————From Ernie Plye works also+

    +There no one will lie to you; no one will try to put a spin on the truth. Those for whom death waits around the next bend or across the next rice paddy have no time and little taste for the games that are played with such relish in the rear.

    +No one ever lied to me within the sound of the guns.

    —————

    +There, at the cutting edge of war, you find yourself welcomed and needed — welcomed by the soldier as a token that someone in the outside world cares about him and how he lives and dies; Needed for the simple reason that an Infantry company or platoon in combat always needs another set of hands to carry ammo or haul water to the wounded or to pick up a rifle when the chips are really down. There you earn the sort of friendship that cannot be acquired in any other field of human endeavor — there you forge bonds that will endure for a lifetime.

    A few years ago I shook hands with one such battlefield friend and brother, agreeing on the terms by which we would jointly author a book. The lawyer who was negotiating the deal with the publisher asked to see the contract between us. We explained that there was no written contract; just that handshake. He looked horrified; we looked at him with pity. “You see,” my buddy explained, “We have trusted each other with our lives; this is just a little matter of some money.”

    There is no secret in all of this. In every war there are always correspondents who walk this road; men and women whose fear of death is overcome by a fear of never having known the truth of war. The numbers are always disproportionate and they grow more so as rules and pools and fools proliferate.

    When I look back at the military/media experience in the Gulf war it is with sadness for lost opportunities on both sides of the equation. Because of poor planning, paranoia and over-control, the details of a great victory of American arms were virtually lost to history. The crucial Army tank battles took place far from the lens of any camera; the Navy was over the horizon, out of sight and out of mind; and although the Air Force contributed all that nifty smart bomb film the vital human element of the Air Force story was largely missing, and we were left with the false image of a Nintendo War. The only thing the Pentagon had to hide in the Gulf was the finest military force this country has ever put into the field, and it did that very efficiently.

    I am here to argue for more openness, more contact, more freedom between your profession and mine. In this one instance I believe familiarity would breed not contempt but trust and respect. My knowledge of and respect for you was born on the battlefields of Vietnam, learned alongside men like Lt. Charlie Hastings. That respect was reinforced by my experience in the Gulf, where I was the exception that proved the rule. There were around 1,000 correspondents accredited in the Gulf; 140 were permitted into the combat pools. There was precisely one reporter who went to war with a personal recommendation from General H. Norman Schwarzkopf in his hip pocket, and you’re looking at him.

    How this came to pass is just another war story. In 1965 in Vietnam I marched along some bad roads in the Central Highlands with a Vietnamese Airborne battalion and made the acquaintance of a young Army adviser, Major Norm Schwarzkopf. The battalion commander who taught Charlie Hastings and me some important lessons in the Ia Drang Valley in November, 1965, was a splendid combat commander named Hal Moore. Long before that, Hal Moore taught infantry tactics to hundreds of young cadets at West Point, including one named Norm Schwarzkopf. He even persuaded young Schwarzkopf to choose the Infantry as his branch, against the best advice of his father who warned him that he would be forever giving up any hope of making the rank of general as a mud-foot Infantry officer.

    I dealt fairly and honestly with both those men, as I have always tried to do with all men, and what goes around comes around. Life may be short but memories are long.

    Thanks to that trust, I was sent down to the 24th Mech two weeks before G-Day. On my first night there the Division CG called me to his TOC and pulled the cover off the battle map. What he said, as my eyes followed the arrows and the hair stood up on the back of my neck was this: I trust you because Schwarzkopf trusts you; but more than that, I trust you because you’re coming with me. I never heard a more compelling argument for operational security in my life.

    During the days before G-Day I visited every brigade and battalion in the division; saw the preparations; checked on the OR rates of the equipment; ate a lot of really bad chow; got lost traveling at night in the desert about fourteen times. Did a lot of listening and looking. And then we rode to battle together. I emerged from that experience with a damned good story of an American armored division at war …. and with something far more important: A whole new crop of comrades-in-arms and friends-for-life. We had trusted each other with our lives.

    My regret, and one that I believe is now shared by the more thoughtful military leaders today, is that there was not an experienced team of reporters, photographers and cameramen traveling with every Brigade which crossed the berm into Kuwait and Iraq; stationed with every Air Force squadron which saw action; and on the bridge of every Navy ship offshore. Too much of the war either went uncovered, or the pooled dispatches and film took so long to reach the rear that the war was over and the stories never saw the light of day. More importantly, I think we will all have cause to regret the fact that a new generation of correspondents was not free to accompany a new generation of captains and majors of all the services to war — to learn the ropes, earn the trust and build the bonds that last a lifetime.

    Some of you seated here today — the best and brightest of our nation’s defenders — are convinced that the press is your enemy. In any similar gathering of reporters there would, no doubt, be some who believe the same thing of you. This is a national tragedy…. and one that each of us has an obligation and a duty to do everything we can to repair and heal. There is more than enough blame and fault to go around, but that is not the point. Somehow my mind keeps going back to what my old friend Hal Moore tried to explain to that lawyer: once we have trusted each other with our lives …. everything else is small change.

    Since Vietnam, I’ve thought long and hard about the relationship between your profession and mine — professions that the founding fathers of this nation thought so important that they included specific definitions of our duties and responsibilities and rights in the Constitution and the Bill of Rights.

    A generation of officers emerged from that searing, bitter, orphaned war looking for someone to blame for the failures manifest in our nation’s defeat in Vietnam. Many chose to blame the media: Walter Cronkite lost the war; Dan Rather lost the war; Peter Arnett lost the war. By choosing the easy way out they obviated the painful need to carefully examine the root causes of our failure to win. By placing full blame and responsibility on the press they could avoid delving deeper, peeling to the underlying layers of the onion and exposing the more important failures of political leadership at home and military leadership right down the chain of command from the Joint Chiefs to the commander, U.S. Forces Vietnam and on down to Corps and Division.

    How much easier it was to simply shoot the messengers. This red herring was dragged through the 0 Club bars of a thousand posts for a decade and more after the end of the Vietnam war. It became an article of faith for a generation of officers, and that led directly to the over-control and the spin control that allowed the Gulf War to be fought in a near-vacuum. Note that I say NEAR VACUUM, because nature abhors a vacuum.

    For all the faultless planning and flawless execution of the plan, for all the success at locking the media out of the loop, locking them up in hotel briefing rooms far to the rear, in the end it was two very public television events that had much more to do with shaping the end of that war than all of the actions on or above the battlefield.

    Those two events both occurred three days into the war. One was Gen. Schwartzkopf’s Mother of All Briefings, a masterful exposition of what had occurred and why. Near the end of that briefing, flush with the feeling that he had knocked the ball over the fence, the general was asked a simple question: Have you achieved your objectives? He sang beautifully about how he had not wanted this war, had hoped to avoid fighting it, didn’t like seeing people dying in combat, and, yes, he supposed that his prime objective, the liberation of Kuwait, had been achieved. In short, my old friend allowed his bullfrog mouth to overload his tadpole ass. An hour later his phone began ringing with calls from the White House: Wasn’t it time to begin working out the cease fire? No, said the general, he was still 48 or more hours away from completion of the plan; his tanks were still engaged heavily with units of the Republican Guard; the 24th Mech was only now pulling into place to close the sack behind the enemy in the Euphrates Valley. The voice on the phone responded, “General, that’s not what you just told a worldwide TV audience of more than two billion people.”

    In the field, the commander of the 7th Corps armored phalanx had not heard Schwarzkopf’s briefing. Gen. Fred Franks now knows that he should have had his TOC wired to receive CNN and he should have had a smart iron major sitting there monitoring it minute by minute. If he had done that, he would have known that the war plan he was following had just accelerated from late middle game to end game. When he supervised the rewriting of Field Manual 100-5, the successor to Air-Land Battle, Gen. Franks was careful to include that recommendation for the benefit of the next generation of commanders.

    The second very public event was the broadcast of film of the so-called Highway of Death and its scenes of miles and miles of shattered and burning wreckage strewn along Highway 8. With the help of J-STARS imagery and the on-the-ground firsthand knowledge of a young Army major who months before had driven that highway and made careful note of the natural choke points, the Air Force had hit those choke points at the head and tail of the long retreating column of Iraqis fleeing Kuwait City. The film of the Highway of Death, unanalyzed, gave the impression that thousands and thousands of Iraqis, innocent and guilty alike, had been slaughtered. Even General Colin Powell believed that what had happened was a turkey shoot, and, in his words, Americans don’t indulge in turkey shoots. He increased the pressure on General Schwarzkopf to conclude arrangements for an immediate cease fire.

    Had there been even one or two reporters and cameramen on the ground, to take a firsthand look at that highway, we would have known then and there that the Highway of Death was, in fact, a Highway of Dead Toyotas. That when the choke points were closed and the column ceased movement all the drivers and passengers instantly knew what was coming, and instantly got out of their vehicles and beat feet out into the desert. That the casualties in the great turkey shoot were perhaps no more than 150 or 200 killed.

    By locking out the media, by cutting them off from timely communication of their reports to the rear, the commanders in Riyadh and Washington had perhaps taken a certain amount of revenge for perceived sins of the media in covering Vietnam, but they had without doubt outsmarted themselves. A perfect example of what our British cousins call: Too clever by half.

    I’ve since made a couple of other deployments, including Korea and Haiti, and closely watched the deployments to Somalia and Bosnia. Some of the lessons learned in the Gulf seem to be being applied with a good deal more foresight and planning by the new generation of commanders. There have been bobbles and missteps on both sides but nothing that I consider fatal.

    But there is still that underlying suspicion: Your peers tell you that I, and people like me, are YOUR enemy. My peers tell me that you, and people like you, are MY enemy. The correct answer to both groups is: Bullshit! I much prefer to MAKE my own friends and enemies the old-fashioned way. I EARN them, and I am proud of them. I stubbornly refuse to inherit them. And I recommend that course to you as well.

    What I am telling you is that familiarity far more often a breeds respect and friendship. Because of my experience in battle in Vietnam, when I was younger and skinnier and much dumber, I have been given the honor and privilege of open access to your tightly guarded world. When I boarded a Huey and flew away from Landing Zone X-Ray in the Ia Drang Valley on 16 November 1965, 1 left knowing that I was alive to tell this story only because 79 young Americans had given their lives to save mine, and in that same effort 130 others had been shattered by terrible wounds. I knew that I owed them, and those like them, a lifelong obligation to try to understand their world and to tell the their story to a country that too easily forgets the true cost of war.

    Someday, some of you in this room will wear stars and carry the heavy responsibility of high command. Inevitably the day will come when you must lead your young lieutenants and captains into the horror that is war. When that day comes, or in the days before it comes, the phone will likely ring and some public affairs puke will be on the line asking you how many media pukes you want to take with you. When that day comes, the right answer is: yes sir, yes sir, I’ll take three bags full, but send me the brightest and best ones you have. Then farm them out with your lieutenants and captains and let them go to war together. The experience of war will create bonds between them that cannot be broken; the young reporters will learn to love the soldiers and airmen just as you and your lieutenants have learned; and in the end 99 percent of the coverage that flows from this experience will be entirely positive.

    I want you to do this because it is right, and I ask you to do this so that there will be others like me thirty years down the road who know and love your profession and can translate it for the American public. I ask this because my time as a combat correspondent has, sadly, come to an end. All these years I have been free to go to wars, to do the .really dumb stuff that I always tried to conceal from my mother and my insurance agent, because I had a strong, loving wife at home to take care of our young sons if anything ever happened to me. She had all the ticket punches of a military wife, 11 moves in 22 years, sudden disappearances of her husband for long periods of time, living with the knowledge that a phone call or a knock on the door could bring news that she was a widow. She handled it all perfectly. Last January, after a brief, brutal battle with cancer, my wife, Theresa died. I am now trying to be father and mother to two boys, 16 and 18, and I find I am no longer free to grab my rucksack and my helmet and instinctively head for the sound of the guns. My obligation and promise to her and to our sons must take precedence.

    I thank you and all those like you for sharing your world with me. You have shared the last two sips of water in your canteen on a hot jungle trail; you’ve shared the only cup of hot coffee in a hundred miles on a cold desert morning in the Euphrates Valley; and always you have shared what is in your hearts. Your world, your profession, has given me the best friends of my life and both the greatest happiness and greatest sorrow I have ever known.

    +I would leave you with these lines from Rudyard Kipling in which he tried to explain

    his relationship with the British Army.

    ++They explain something of what I feel:

    I have eaten your bread and salt.
    I have drunk your water and wine.
    In deaths ye died I have watched beside,
    And the lives ye led were mine.

    God bless you and God bless our country.

  • Comments are closed.