"Where were you when the world stopped turning on that September day?"
- Alan Jackson
I was in Fort Benning, Georgia preparing to transfer from 30th AG (think of it as a prep-school for Basic) to 2-19th INF TRN REG (Infantry Training Regiment). I was going to be assigned to Alpha Company 4th Platoon 'Dogs of War' (We have such interesting nicknames for our units. As an aside I have been a 'Dog of War', a 'Gator', a 'Bushmaster', a 'Copperhead', a 'Scorpion', a 'Dragon', a 'Demon', and for a very short time a 'Delta Dog'...but I digress). It was 9-ish in the morning (I did not consult my watch) and I was seated on the floor (which is where you sit when you are a Private...chairs are for big-boy soldiers) at the end of a row of about 60 other Privates. There was a very angry Captain standing behind me muttering under his breath, "I cannot believe I have to ------- babysit these ------- Privates again." Or something to that effect, when a Sergeant walked in and whispered to him, "A plane just crashed into the World Trade Center. A big one. They think the pilot had a stroke or something." "Really? That sucks." I was the only person to hear that conversation and I shared the Captain's sentiment. I didn't get to hear any more on that subject as just at that moment we (all 250of us) were ordered outside to do the changeover ceremony.
Once the ceremony was complete we were marched around Sand Hill (the training area) and shown all that awaited us for the next 14 weeks. It took all of about two hours (and a lot of marching) to get everywhere, and finally we were marched into the formation grounds of Alpha Company. This is typically where the fun begins. If you've gone through Basic, or at least seen the first 10 minutes of Full Metal Jacket or An Officer and A Gentleman, you know what I am talking about...but this was very different...and far more unsettling.
There are three Drill Sergeants assigned to each training platoon (four platoons to a company), 12 total. But we only saw four at a time. They cycled in and out of this room with a TV on inside. Each time they came out they were more and more irritated; irritated at us it seemed.
Now, I expected the usual jibes:
- 'How tall are you, son?'
- '6ft tall.'
- 'SIX FEET TALL WHAT? SIX FEET TALL, MORON? SIX FEET TALL, JACK%$#? SIX FEET TALL WHAT?!!???!!!'
- 'Six feet tall, Drill Sergeant.'
- 'Really?!? I didn't know they stacked !#$% that high.'
It was that, but there was something else there...in the eyes. Something that betrayed an altogether different motivation than 'breaking down' a Private. I didn't realize it until later, after they had divided us up into platoons, taken us up to our platoon barracks, and THEN informed us what had happened, that the emotion they had was anger. Anger at not being with their units, not being able to retaliate. You see Infantry Drill Sergeants are culled from the ranks of the best combat units. They are usually the best soldiers and some of the smartest (think super-teachers). They have the skill and the aptitude to teach that skill to others. Imagine knowing you are a great soldier, but not being able to BE that soldier. It was a bitter pill, and we bore the brunt of it for the duration. Many of the Drill Sergeants put in for transfers back to their combat units once our training cycle ended. Hopefully they got their chance.
I didn't think in a million years that I would see the sands of Afghanistan. I was in the National Guard for crying out loud. I mean, I was in the Infantry, but I enlisted in February of 2001 to pay for college and hopefully get some self-discipline. Shoot, I spent the 6 months between enlistment and leaving for Fort Benning, not in training with my soon-to-be unit, not in getting prepared physically for the strain of training; I spent it laying about doing nothing in particular. I hung out with my friends, spent a lot of time with my girlfriend, saw movies, went to concerts, etc. I thought that joining the Infantry would be a cool way to spend a weekend (blowing stuff up, which I did...and IT WAS AWESOME!!! Example: Have YOU ever fired a rocket launcher?) AND it was the quickest Basic Training/AIT (Advanced Individual Training), so I could get back home in time to start the spring semester...and on the Army's dime. Such was my detachment, such was my naivete. Of course I instantly regretted all of that on Tuesday morning.
I won't go into how they told us, needless to say there were a lot of 'F-bombs'. I won't go into the reactions from my platoon, needless to say fear and anxiety ran rampant. I do want to say this: We were lined up in front of our assigned bunks in a sort of giant rectangle (beds lined up along both long walls with a big open space in the middle of the bay) and each man could turn his head and see the rest. The Senior Drill Sergeant said, "Look around, Privates. Some men in this room will die, on foreign soil, avenging this act." He was right.
We did lose a man from 4th, Sgt. Brett Swank and another from 1st platoon: SSG Jack Hennessy (that I know of, perhaps there were more. There were at least a dozen wounded.). Swank wasn't my friend per say...in fact we almost got into a fistfight once. Hennessy was a really good friend of a friend, and helped me on my PT test prep runs from time to time. When I heard of their deaths, it saddened me, obviously...but it made me think that on that September morning when they heard about the attack (the same way I did), and they looked around their specific platoons did they think it would be them?
On an even sadder note, I lost another friend in Afghanistan. He was shot down in a rescue chopper in the mountains during Operation Red Wing in May 2005. He was a member of the famed Night Stalkers (again, we love those cool names in the Army), 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment. They are making a movie about that mission, I do not know when it will come out. I heard about his death from my brother while I was in Mississippi preparing for my own excursion into the sandbox. It was sobering, not simply because it reinforced the dangers of what I was preparing to do, but that I had actually talked this man out of joining the Air Force and into joining the Army. His name was Sgt. Kip Jacoby of good ol' Pompano Beach. I know if he were here right now, he wouldn't hold it against me, but I'm here and I will hold it against me.
I said all of that to show that I am not insulated from the tragedies and wars stemming from 9/11, not so obtuse as to think that death is something to be celebrated and not so vain as to think that American lives are more special than Afghan lives, or Iraqi lives, or Libyan lives, or Vietnamese lives, or North Korean lives, or Japanese lives, or German lives, or Italian lives, or American Indian lives, or British lives. But isn't the point of 'life' to live it well? To contribute to the betterment of mankind? Shouldn't a life be spent not in striving against accepted societal norms, but in a way that hones them further; focuses them sharper. Shouldn't it be that all humankind exists/lives for the perpetuation of humanity? To that end Osama failed as a human. Just as Hitler did. Just as Stalin did. Just as Saddam did. Just as Robespierre did. Just as Nero did.
I suppose it is reasonable to assume that all of those listed above showed love and genuine compassion at some point in time. I am sure they loved their children, spouse (sometimes more than one), pets, friends etc. However, each saw the world, not as something to better or enhance, but as something to force-meld into their image. Sure, they had followers, some numbering in the millions...but they clearly went against the grain of common decency. Clearly.
Now I know we're getting into 'debatable' territory, 'one man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter' and all that, but when you look at it, really look at it, What they wanted was so aberrant, so wantonly devoid of morality and benevolence that it caused the rest of the civilized world to unite and fight against them. Those types of individuals have spurned the value of life and pursued - in the words of Coldplay - Death and all his friends. So...is it really such a shame that they found him?
On a lighter note:
Did you hear about the latest trendy drink, the 'Osama Bin Laden'? It has two shots and a splash of water.
FIN
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