In 1963, retired Army Colonel T. R. Fehrenbach published This Kind of War. A veteran infantryman who held command in Korea from the platoon to battalion level, Fehrenbach’s treatise is a scathing indictment of the American military and American society. It is also a tragic retelling of America’s forgotten war, in which the same number of Americans perished as in Vietnam- but in one fifth the time.

Fehrenbach’s chief criticism was the American military’s remarkable lack of preparedness to face the North Korean and Chinese onslaught. Discipline was lax, weapons were rusty, and training was not tough enough to prepare men for the horrors they must face to succeed in combat. Fehrenbach wrote that:

“Korea was the kind of war that since the dawn of history was fought by professionals, by legions. It was fought by men who soon knew they had small support or sympathy at home, who could read in the papers statements by prominent men that they should be withdrawn. It was fought by men whom the Army – at its own peril – had given neither training nor indoctrination, nor the hardness and bitter pride men must have to fight a war in which they do not in their hearts believe.” [Pg. 298]

This theme of legions- hardhearted professional soldiers as the core of military excellence- continues throughout Fehnrenbach’s book.

The war to create this country was fought by citizen soldiers and indeed, many of them are counted among our country’s most heralded warriors. Citizen soldiers serve their nation in time of need and afterwards return to their homes, jobs, and families. They are borne during times of great adversity, answering the call when their country is in its darkest hour.

The professional soldier is something very different, bridging the gap between wars of national survival and crusades of moral righteousness. In between these two undertakings is the most confusing of wars: the war of necessity. Citizen soldiers can be asked, but not expected, to rally around a war of necessity because their homes and families are not threatened. It is the professional soldier, who studies his craft like a monk studies holy writ, waiting for the 72 hour warning order to deploy. The professional soldier understands and embraces duty like the citizen soldier, but for the professional soldier, war is a way of life and warfighting is his trade.

What about those other warriors that have become an icon for modern American warfare- mercenaries? Like professional soldiers, mercenaries will fight for pay, but unlike professional soldiers, they fight only for pay. They are loyal only to their employer, and their services are available to the highest bidder. Citizen soldiers fight for their families and cities back home. Professional soldiers fight for their government’s rule of law and their nation’s way of life. Mercenaries fight for themselves; their own way of life.

Because of this, there has always been, and will always be, contempt for mercenaries among soldiers. Being a soldier means sacrificing to be part of and contribute to a system of national defense and putting faith in the elected civilians that control it. Mercenaries have no use for systems or sacrifice, unless they effect the bottom line. Most importantly, unlike soldiers, mercenaries have nothing to gain from the rule of law, peace, or security.


In his conclusion, Fehrenbach describes the modern legionary:

“The man who will go where his colors go, without asking, who will fight a phantom foe in jungle and mountain range, without counting, and who will suffer and die in the midst of incredible hardship, without complaint, is still what he has always been, from Imperial Rome to sceptered Britain to democratic America. He is the stuff of which legions are made. [Pg. 455]

America has legions. On Memorial Day the legionaries gather and remember their comrades who have fallen, who have sacrificed so that they may go on. What do the mercenaries do?

In war, Fehrenbach writes, “For every time a nation or a people commits its sons to combat, it inevitably commits its full prestige, its hope for the future, and the continuance of its way of life, whatever it may be.” [Page 453]

If a nation is unwilling or unable to commit its sons as part of its full prestige, but instead must rely on soldiers of fortune to fill its needs, what does that say about the nation engaging in this combat? We have done this in Iraq, where the private “security contractors” have been given the thin veneer of legitimacy, but cannot ever truly be respected or trusted. The Ugandan mercenaries guarding our bases in central Iraq have nothing to gain from the end of combat, for peace means they lose their jobs. These men will not spend the grueling hours required to wage a successful counterinsurgency- the thankless pursuit of winning hearts and minds and chasing a phantom foe. Their battles are about winning clients and delivering services.

If we as a nation are to consider sending our young men to die for a cause, let us make sure that they are our young men.

[Updated]

I didn’t join the Marines for, or leave because of my education. I joined to serve my country and test my mettle. But like many veterans, when I left the service I decided to go to school- enrolling in an MBA program part-time while starting my new job. I later switched to full time in an accelerated program.

In 18 months, I spent over $37,000 in tuition and related costs. But because my program was accelerated, when the VA pro-rated my GI Bill (MGIB) stipend based on credits and class length only, the payments still couldn’t keep up with my class schedule. Due to the complicated and inflexible policies of the current MGIB, I received an average of $850 per month for my program when actual costs were several thousand dollars- when I graduated, I still had over $21,000 in student loans hanging over my head. I had never expected the government to pay for the entire degree, but the inflexibility of the program and the modesty of the payments seemed incongruous with the ultra-flexible, 110% troop welfare mantra I had learned in the service.


After World War II, thousands of returning veterans were given the opportunity to go to college with the MGIB (known then as the Servicemen’s Readjustment Act of 1944). This ushered in decades of American ingenuity as returning soldiers joined the work force with leadership skills sharpened in combat and technical skills bolstered in college and vocational schools; it also doubled attendance rates at universities across the country, making higher learning accessible to more classes. Since its inception, Congress has readjusted the MGIB numerous times, but largely untouched since its last major adjustment, the MGIB is now outdated as the cost of education rose exponentially over the past decade.


Currently on the senate floor is Sen. Jim Webb’s [D-VA] S.22: Post 9/11 Veterans Educational Assistance Act of 2007 a sensible and comprehensive overhaul of the antiquated MGIB. The bill is endorsed by Senators Chuck Hagel [R-NE] and John Warner [R-VA], both veterans.

Today the MGIB provides approximately $1,100 per month depending on the veteran’s school and military status. Sen. Webb’s bill will radically expand educational benefit coverage for both active duty and reservists, and provide tuition (equivalent to the highest in-state public university cost), living expenses, and a monthly stipend. The Webb bill is the first attempt by our government to bridge the gap between real world costs and the stipends shelled out by the VA. It is a step in the right direction towards truly “supporting the troops”.

But not everyone agrees. Republican presidential candidate Sen. John McCain [R-AZ], is adamantly opposed to Sen. Webb’s bill, and recently introduced his own counter-bill, S. 2938: Enhancement of Recruitment, Retention, and Readjustment through Education Act of 2008. Like Webb’s proposal, McCain’s modifies the current MGIB benefits, but that is where the similarities between the bills end. The main enhancement in McCain’s bill comes in an increase of monthly payments to $2,000 per month- but only for troops who serve on active duty for 12 or more years (average age after 12 years of service: 31 years old). This is the crux of the McCain bill: it ties its increased benefits over the current MGIB to a veteran’s length of service in an attempt to boost military retention numbers.

After merely skimming the titles of these two bills, one immediately understands the purpose behind both. Webb’s bill rewards service first and aids recruitment second. McCain’s creates additional qualifications for benefits and encourages retention for education-seeking veterans. And while the MGIB is an integral part of the total enlistment equation, most troops don’t want to stay in the service simply to accrue better educational benefits. Those who stay in (are “retained”) stay for the complete lifestyle- its benefits and sacrifices.

Using length of service as a measuring stick to determine who receives education and who does not is incredibly obtuse and out of touch- it suggests that a standard enlistment is an inadequate amount of time to earn these benefits. Within their first three years at a deployable unit, most troops have been to war at least twice. Shouldn’t serving your enlistment honorably, giving up your youth in the process, be enough to earn you the educational support you were promised?

Amazingly, convincing the Pentagon (vocally opposed to the Webb bill) and McCain and his acolytes of this seems like it will be a surprisingly difficult task. Pentagon Press Secretary Geoff Morrell recently said: “We have no issue with the fact that Senator Webb wishes to, you know, provide a more generous education benefit to troops, but we are certainly concerned that this would be eligible to them after only two years of service,” said Morrell. “We think…that the longer you stay in, the sweeter the benefits… [should be] to you. Six years would show a commitment to service.”

There are plenty of reasons troops leave the service before six years, and they are often anything but self-serving. Too bad the already college-educated, non-warfighting bureaucrats at the Department of Defense think you’re uncommitted if you serve for less than six years.

Co-author of the McCain Bill (and McCain disciple) Sen. Lindsey Graham [R-SC] goes further: “I appreciate the effort, but I think the Webb plan is a bad approach to delivering education benefits to veterans that is going to be unnecessarily costly, that is complicated and has disparity in results that make no sense. We don’t reinvent the wheel.” In other words, veterans are not worth the cost in dollars or time spent in changing the system.


Ultimately and obviously, this issue boils down to three words that politicians throw around a lot these days: support the troops. We’ve had hundreds of bullshit skirmishes in which hawks ridiculously declared opponents of the war in Iraq as not supporting the troops, but now we’re having a real one about giving veterans the chance to go to college and we have those very hawks deflating this noble bipartisan initiative. As I sit here writing this, I know for a fact that at least four of my Marines dropped out of school after starting college because they could not afford to work full time and attend school. This is despite the $1,100 MGIB allowance they received every month. I asked one of them if $2,000 would have made a difference, and they replied, “Not in eight years, sir.”

When I applied to college, a top-end private education cost about $100,000 including living costs. A recent book by Nobel Laureate Joseph E. Stiglitz and Linda J. Blimes estimates that the Iraq War will exceed $3 trillion in US tax dollars. To put the war hawks’ complaints about the cost of Webb’s bill into perspective, the money spent on the war in Iraq (through the appropriations bills they demand) could have instead been used to send 30 million American veterans to America’s most prestigious schools, nearly all-inclusive. But we’re actually talking about a tiny fraction of that number of troops, and a fraction of that cost of education- the bill only proposes to cover in-state public school tuition and a living stipend, not membership to the Harvard Club. The actual cost of Webb’s bill is estimated at $52 Billion over 10 years. That amount is spent every 25 weeks in Iraq.

The Webb bill enhances troop welfare and truly makes a difference in the way our country values returning veterans. The McCain bill is a token measure designed to stick a band-aid on the MGIB, even though it actually undercuts the better, bipartisan bill from Webb. At best, this is politics at its worst. At worst, McCain and Co. are saying that America cannot afford to send the troops to college, but it can afford to keep them in an ill-conceived war in which they might die, for up to 100 years. Ideologically and mathematically that doesn’t add up.


Further Reading: NY Times Salon Defenselink VetVoice


Update:

Today [23 May 08], the senate overwhelmingly passed the Webb GI Bill with a 75-22 vote. But despite another lopsided vote in favor of the bill in the House (256-166), it is now headed for a vowed veto from President Bush.

Three senators missed the vote, including Sen. McCain, perhaps because he felt fund-raising to be more exigent than veterans' advocacy. During debate on the bill, Sen. Obama called McCain’s support of veteran’s rights into question. McCain responded, “I will not accept from Senator Obama, who did not feel it was his responsibility to serve our country in uniform, any lectures on my regard for those who did.”

Expectedly, the war of words between both presidential candidates continues to escalate, but the bottom line is that regardless of which one of them wore a uniform, militarily, McCain is on the wrong side of this debate: the Webb GI Bill is a bold and broadly supported solution to inadequate benefits for our veterans; McCain’s entire position is backwards and slaps all veterans in the face.

After watching McCain fight the bipartisan GI Bill overhaul and then miss the actual vote, for the first time, I seriously question his ability to serve as a senator, much less president. He certainly can no longer refer to himself as the "armed forces' choice".

September 2006

711 Stewart Avenue, Garden City, New York is owned by the Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS), although most of the signs that say “INS” have been covered with taped-up pieces of photocopier paper and new seals hanging below say “Department of Homeland Security”. Because INS alone didn’t make foreigners quite scared enough.

At 9:06 AM on a mildly humid Monday morning, I sit with my parents in the back of a room that is nearly 50 yards long. Hundreds of chairs are arranged in long rows and at the front of the room is the most diverse crowd I’ve ever seen in one place.

Five hundred legal aliens are about to take their oaths of citizenship and become American citizens- as legit as Thomas Jefferson himself. They are from China, Jamaica, Belarus, Italy, Burma, Albania, and beyond. Dressed in their best attire, which in some cases is just jeans and sneakers with a button-down shirt, these 500 souls have moved their lives and their families across the world in pursuit of the American dream. My family is here to support Elaine, a close family friend who lived in the US legally for 30 years before deciding to become a citizen.

The supervisor stalls for time while wayward oath-seekers trickle into the building late. He puts the applicants at ease, tells a few jokes that are self-deprecating and funny. He reminds the new citizens about forms they have to file to get their full benefits: passports, documents for children which will enable college grants, and correction forms to fix typos on their certificates. He seems to be honestly and sincerely excited about the multi-national delegation seated in front of him and their decision to become American citizens.

At the end of one stalling tirade about the applicants’ new lives as Americans, the supervisor segues from his personal take on what it means to be a good citizen to his personal take on America’s reputation. He talks about how America is “really” a good country, even though a lot of other countries “knock it”. It seems as if he is suddenly trying to excuse all of America’s shortcomings and convince the new citizens that this really isn’t a bad place after all- as though someone in the crowd was having second thoughts on account of America’s bad rep. Then he asks if there are any applicants serving in the military.

I look around for some comrades, but see no hands go up. He continues in a reverent tone, “The country is very grateful for the service of men and women in the armed forces, and if you see them, you should thank them.” Then, returning to his apology on behalf of America: “Most people in the military joined just so they could go to college. They don’t have any say in foreign policy; they’re just doing their jobs.”

I flush. I feel my face turn red and sweat forming on the back of my neck but I remain motionless.

Did I hear that right? Did the supervisor of an INS facility about to swear in 500 foreigners as citizens of the United States just apologize for American policy and trivialize the commitment of over a million brave souls? Seated in front of him are men and women who have sacrificed untold amounts to save money, travel around the world, overcome culture shock and racism, learn English, study American history, assimilate, and run a bumpy gauntlet of interrogative paperwork- to become part of, and share personal responsibility in, the very country he is masochistically excusing.

Did any of the more the nearly 4,000 men and women killed in Iraq die for their college benefits? I don’t think so. They died because their courage was so unflappable that without question or hesitation, they placed themselves in dangerous situations with no regard for their own peril, because that’s what their citizens demanded. Sgt Yarbrough never asked me to write a college recommendation for him- although I would have in a heartbeat- instead he asked me to promote him and went on to request another deployment to Iraq. When he was killed in Iraq, it wasn’t for college; it was for his only obligation: the Constitution, and it was at the will of every American citizen forming the majority, including all the new ones, no matter where they came from.

Why are Americans so self-conscious about their country’s foreign policy? Is it because they don’t support it? Is it because they feel guilty about not speaking up when they didn’t support it or because they are too ignorant to know what to ask for from their delegates? Is it because they sense its illegitimacy?

How can we be so insecure about something as absolutely monumental and ethically concrete as fighting a war, that an INS supervisor is compelled to, voluntarily and without provocation, apologize to new citizens minutes before they join the country and share the responsibility themselves?

Oh yeah, and FYI: we don’t die for college.


Further Reading: 2 Dinar on non-US citizen veterans

When we were just learning our way around Camp Fallujah in early September 2004, there were always hordes of Marines hanging out near the old theater on the former Iraqi army base, waiting for their “Warrior Transition Brief”. We called this the “don’t beat your wife brief”- it was the training you got to tell you what it was going to be like when you went back to the world and how you were supposed to act. We were jealous of the short-timers; we had a long way to go.

My relationship with my girlfriend Julie had been tenuous. We met in the first week of college, fell in love quickly, and after years of dating it had become clear to both of us that we were soul mates. But my insecurity and the impact of her childhood divorce had badly damaged our relationship and for two years she wouldn’t have anything to do with me. I moved around the US and eventually to Japan, living a solitary, masochistic existence. She moved in with her boyfriend.

When I told Julie I was going to Iraq, she suddenly wanted to see me, and sounded interested in me for the first time in years. Her visit the week before I deployed was the happiest four days of my life, despite the looming hardships. I felt unstoppable- I was going to fight the good fight and my woman had come back to me.


During the Iraq deployment, I relied heavily on Julie, and it seemed all the baggage between us had been silently forgotten. She was still the woman I had always loved, and I felt like the kind of man she deserved. The war was all consuming and I spent my free time thinking about how I would leave the Marines and we would spend the rest of our lives together.

When the time came for my unit to go home, we were cocky and incredulous during our own warrior transition briefs and Post Deployment Health Assessments. No way were we screwed up, we thought. Many of us had led reasonably sheltered tours, so we felt we didn’t even rate any psychological issues. Later, I’d realize that this attitude was part of my problem.


When the plane from Kuwait landed at March Air Reserve Base and I walked out onto the tarmac, I felt satisfied. When the bus pulled onto the parade deck at Pendleton- the PA system enthusiastically announcing our arrival- and I stepped off the bus to hug Julie, I felt like a rock-star. But by the time I went to get my luggage and put it in my parents’ rental car five minutes later, I was already a little depressed.

The welcome home weekend probably would have been the best four days of my parents’ and Julie’s lives, if it hadn’t been among my worst. I was a jerk. I couldn’t make simple decisions like when to eat. I didn’t want to hang out with my family. I drifted in and out of thought, ignoring people around me, morose and sulking. Every recreational activity seemed idiotic and self-indulgent. In the parking lot of the San Diego Zoo, I couldn’t find the willpower to go inside, and when my mother asked me, intuitively, if I wanted to go back to Iraq, I thought the question was absurd- until the word “yes” came out of my mouth and I started crying.

I don’t think anyone realized the significance of that moment at the time, but looking back, I realize that it was a red flag that my war wasn’t over, and that I had unanswered questions in my head. While spending my welcome home weekend at the Hotel Del, I enviously watched the Navy SEAL trainees working out in the surf in front of their base on Coronado. I envied their fraternity- the type of lifestyle that had sustained me for the last four years when Julie ignored me and my family was thousands of miles away. In three months I would be off active duty, heading back to NY to start a new career. I had a sense that the most important chapter of my life was closing and I wasn’t ready for it.

When Julie left that weekend to go back to NY, I was devastated, sobbing alone in my hotel room at the sight of a love note she had hidden for me. But when I put on my desert uniform and showed up to work on Monday, snapping salutes in the early morning sun outside our battalion command post, I felt comfortable again. I was surprised by how happy I was to see the same guys I’d spent the last 210 days with. I allowed myself to be re-enveloped by my family of warriors at the cost of paying attention to my own family and Julie.

In the end, coming home from Iraq would be the deathblow to the relationship I’d spent years trying to rebuild with the woman I wanted to marry. Unable or unwilling to think about anything but being a Marine each day and to focus on daily self-indulgences like bullshit hobbies I hadn’t had time for in years, I ignored Julie and lived in my own little world.

My last day on active duty was a big one. I found myself leading the Battalion over a hill on a large formation run, carrying the colors for one last time. The CO smiled at me as I ran by- I could tell people were sad to see me go. Later that day I promoted one of my best troops to Corporal, making him into a non-commissioned officer. The XO sat me down in his office and told me my career plans were bullshit and that he could only see me as a Marine. Better than half of me believed he was right. By the end of the day, I was one of the last Marines in the command post- I drove home in my uniform. I felt like I was getting kicked out of the house, even though I’d chosen to leave.


When I got to New York, there was no homecoming for me with Julie. I felt like I had buried my war tomahawk on the long drive from San Diego, but Julie was no longer interested in me and seemed fully ensconced in her metropolitan lifestyle. For two more years, she’d respond to me haphazardly, occasionally let me take her out to dinner, and refuse to share a single moment of substance. Eventually I cut the last lines tethering our ships together, and watched her sail away without looking back.

Through this entire trauma, I had loaded my plate up with as much work as I could handle, trying desperately to keep my life moving forward. But the omnipresence of the war would not let me be. I worked out relentlessly, read books on tactics, looked into Arabic classes, and called reserve units to find out when they were deploying. Since arriving home, I had promised myself to put Julie before the Marines, but if she wasn’t interested, then maybe I’d go back to the desert and answer some of those unanswered questions. My parents looked nauseous when I told them I was thinking about joining a reserve unit. I hated civilian life and there was no reason to stay here anymore.


When the Walter Reed scandal broke, the military crapped their pants. Within days I got a phone call from a defense contractor that had been hired to call all the Iraq and Afghanistan vets and have a little chat about their health. It was a post-post deployment screening. On the phone, I found myself lying again. No, I was not stressed out. No, I did not have trouble talking to people or sleeping. Yes, I was doing just great.

In reality, I was, and remain, wracked with guilt and insecurity- different than survivor’s guilt and far less noble. This is the guilt of leaving to pursue another career when the Corps needed strong leaders like me. The guilt of not having gone all-in when gambling with my life; of not having been catastrophically injured. The guilt of not having killed and the guilt of not living with the timeless veteran’s regrets about his killings. The guilt of being indifferent to the hundreds of opportunities available to me because they all bored me and all I wanted to do was fight. The guilt of having destroyed the most important relationship in my life because of all this guilt about the war.


I’ve been eyeing the presidential candidates all year, waiting for the time when I thought I could stomach the idea of maybe getting killed in a war I still didn’t believe in- but was nonetheless the place on earth where I belonged. Last month, one of my friends from the Marines who never went to Iraq and became a Wall Street lawyer after active duty, quit his job, joined an elite reserve unit, and began preparing to go fight. He is the third person I know who has done this, even after I was the first one talking about deploying with the reserves.

I know why he did it before me though. The sense of guilt and insecurity is deeper with him, since he hasn’t been over there yet. I only hope his experience is meaningful enough to keep him from wanting to go back or distracting him from the things in life that are most important.

Like any serious football fan, I kept one eye on the NFL draft this weekend, watching my favorite college players embark on the next chapters of their athletic careers.

One of the ESPN profiles caught my eye- it was a US Military Academy (USMA, a/k/a “West Point”) cadet in uniform being interviewed in what seemed like some pre-NFL draft hype. The sound was off on the gym TV so I figured it was something else- service academy graduates are obligated to serve on active duty, or so I thought. Turns out I was wrong.

The NY Times reported yesterday that USMA Cadets Caleb Campbell and Mike Viti will not be joining their comrades fighting in the Global War on Terrorism, but instead will be authorized under new Army regulations to play pro football in the NFL. Campbell was selected by the Detroit Lions in the seventh round of the 2008 draft and Viti signed a free agent contract with the Buffalo Bills.

The new policy, established in 2005, allows “individuals with exceptional skills to pursue professional careers while remaining on active duty”, according to the Times. The exceptional individual is to be assigned to a nearby recruiting post as a part-time recruiter and is eligible for early release from active duty after two years. This policy is unique to the US Army and is not DoD universal.


How the Army Sees It:

“People have philosophical problems with this — they think everyone else is going to Iraq,” said one Army official, who was not authorized to speak publicly about the policy. “You can’t judge someone’s worth by their proximity to the battlefield. There are a couple thousand soldiers on recruiting duty. Is he still helping the Army? Yes. Is he still serving? Yes.”

Let’s take it from the top: the sacrifice is on the battlefield, period. The fight is on the battlefield. The burden is on those on the battlefield and their families at home. The greatest need is for well-trained leaders (exactly what West Point produces) to fight. Campbell’s service as a part time recruiter is in no way comparable to that of the soldiers walking the streets of Basra.

Additionally, recruiting is considered special duty in the military- normally it’s duty with a lot of responsibility and autonomy, and performance as a recruiter can make or break someone’s career. It’s also duty that’s given to troops coming off of deployable unit tours; in today’s world we call those people war vets. And while it’s very hard work, it usually represents the only duty a service member can get close to home so these billets are highly sought after. Campbell will certainly be a public affairs trophy the Army can parade around liberally, but no more so than actual veterans who have gone onto great careers in the civilian sector after their service- from Ted Williams to Roger Staubach.


How Campbell Sees It:

“I’ve heard stories about what’s gone on in Iraq and Afghanistan,” Campbell said. “In another sense, the N.F.L. is just as much pressure. You’re out there to take somebody’s job. In terms of coaches can’t cut me? We’re talking about the N.F.L. here. This is a cutthroat business.”

Yeah, the NFL is just like war. Watching or hearing about your friends dying, reckoning your own mortality, lying to your family about what you do, eating MREs and T-Rats, the heat, the celibacy, the compartmentalization of all emotions, the ruined personal relationships, the inner strife about what you’re doing, and the anger about how little the average voter understands or cares about what you do. You nailed it champ.


How I See It:

The civilians who run the US Army have hired too many consultants who don’t understand the way the military culture works or why it should be preserved. Consultants see brand awareness opportunities. They see endorsement opportunities. They think the Return On Investment on Campbell’s West Point education is higher with him in Detroit than Mosul because the money needed to get the equivalent of NFL exposure would probably be a whole quarter’s budget. These people are great marketers, but terrible soldiers- because they’re not soldiers. And they are trading away the strength of the military culture for a few awareness points.

The issue here is equity. We all join the military to serve- at the core of all the college scholarships or self-expressive benefits of being a warrior, service is why we sign up. And in that service, we expect to be treated fairly- we wear uniforms and cut our hair the same way, we eat the same food, we sleep in the same dirt, we stamp out cronyism, and we embrace our multicultural nature. How are Campbell's classmates heading off on their first 15 month deployments supposed to feel while he heads off to NFL training camp? More importantly, what does the average soldier think, hearing about this story during his involuntarily activated combat deployment- the one that pulled him away from his own civilian career after he was honorably discharged?

When you consider all the kids that killed themselves to get into West Point (probably the world’s best military academy, and undeniably one of America’s best schools) and you think about the nearly limitless bounty of upward mobility that comes with its degree, the new Army rule means that those “exceptionally skilled” individuals are wasting slots for real soldiers as well as wasting their degrees and training- as far as taxpayers are concerned.

Campbell may have been placed in an awkward position, but the decision should be clear to a real warrior: The NFL will be there in four years. Honor your obligation and your service, and pick up a rifle. If Campbell prioritized the NFL over regular service, then why attend West Point? Why not go to any of the other colleges that would have let him play ball?


One of the first articles I wrote on 2 Dinar was about Pat Tillman, the Army Ranger killed in Afghanistan four years ago this week. Tillman was a pro safety who left his NFL career behind to enlist in the army, and served in both Iraq and Afghanistan. The Campbell story is Tillman in reverse, made worse by the fact that the public seems to be incapable of telling the difference. Tillman shunned the spotlight for dark nights in the Afghani mountains and made the ultimate sacrifice. Campbell is ignoring both Tillman’s legacy and the service to which he is obligated- and the Army is encouraging him.


Further Reading: NY Times 2 Dinar on Pat Tillman

Edits made [day of publication]