Merry Christmas to the Troops

I just read a column by Rich Lowry on National Review Online about a green Christmas. Basically, he pokes fun at the environmental fanatics who are heatedly debating whether a natural or an artificial tree generates more carbon.

You'll have to go to National Review yourself to find out the dramatic answer to which is more eco-friendly.

While folks ponder the best way to have an environmentally friendly Christmas, other, less selfish and less sanctimonious people are having a green Christmas of their own-- in the Army uniform. Let us not forget that it is basically the American Soldier who is keeping us from worrying about other stuff, like whether the guy next to us at the Christmas tree store has a bomb strapped to his chest.

Men and women in uniform are all over the globe, keeping the fight away from us here at home, so we can enjoy the freedoms of our great country.

Unless you have served away from your family for an extended period of time, it is difficult to understand what it is like to be away during the holidays. I wish all servicemembers serving abroad right now, and their families, a safe and enjoyable Christmas.

Please remember them as you enjoy your holidays.

And Santa doesn't really care how much carbon you emit.

The Bible of Basic Training Has Been Written

If you know me at all, then you know I have written a lot about Army Basic Training. In fact, I wrote an entire book.

It's called, Nine Weeks: a teacher's education in Army Basic Training, and it's now available on Amazon.

It was a labor of love, in more ways than one. First, it represents two things I am very proud of: being a Soldier and being a teacher. Second, it has been a joint project with my wife and has helped her to understand what I have gone through as a Soldier and helped me realize how amazing she is.

I would like to offer you an insider's view of the book, in hopes that you will want to read more.

A funny story:
During our final inspection, one unfortunate private actually fell asleep at parade rest. He crashed into the bunk facing him and disrupted whatever slim chances we had of winning that inspection. The sad part was that, after nine weeks, we were still as bored as ever, and that solemn moment when our first sergeant was determining our worthiness to go into battle, this young man said to himself, "screw it, I'm taking a nap."

An emotional experience:
To make more acute the pain of being away from my wife longer than I ever had was our first wedding anniversary, which came during my third week at Basic. Drill Sergeant Jackson took pity on me, and offered me unlimited time on our phone call on my anniversary day. When the phone call came, I monitored everyone else and went last. After 11 minutes of blathering on to my wife, I ended the call. There seemed nothing to talk about, like a final call before a death sentence. Jackson showed his compassion, however. He had been there before, and he understood that I couldn't function properly at Basic without a solid relationship with my sweetie.


A learning story:
As we paced around tents at our mock forward operating base, sleep nearly suffocated us. We had got less than six hours of sleep over the past 45, and the entire platoon marched with rifles ready in the black of the night. It was scary at the time, infuriating. In hindsight comical. But I realized at that moment that these were merely games, devious ways the drill sergeants tested us. It might have been silly, but real personal growth could take place during those times. I learned patience and forgiveness.

Something that wasn't in the book:
I had to cut a lot out. Basic Training was so much more than a series of stories, but books have limits. One thing I had to scrap was the time when Drill Sergeant Robertson ordered two Soldiers from another platoon to come and do exercises in front of us as we practiced our combatives. Then, he ordered them to drink unconscionable amounts of water until they threw up all over our floor. We felt for these guys, but our desire for vengeance against other platoons had to be quenched. And even though we all knew our drill sergeant was being abusive, we took some sort of perverted pleasure in it.

You'll have to buy the book to learn about the Code Red.

So get to know me a little bit, and check out Nine Weeks. Post a comment after you have gone to Amazon. I'm checking up on you.

Following the Leader

What does getting excited about a math test have to do with the Army?

If you'd like to know, you've come to the right blog.

Several years ago, in my life before soldierhood, I taught math to "traditionally underserved" students, a term that basically means the school district they were in sucked.

But we had a good school, and an even better math department. One of my challenges was to get these kids excited to learn and excited to show what they learned.

Long before I was a member of the Army, I had a crowd of generals...looking up to me. One of my strategies was to reward students who scored a 4.0 on an exam (the equivalent of a near-perfect score) membership among Stowell's 4-Star Generals.

It was just one way to motivate kids to want to do their best, and many of my students genuinely looked forward to taking those tests.

In the real Army, a command sergeant major of mine once wrote, "We need leadership, not likership."

What about "respectership?"

The ironic thing is that nobody I knew liked the CSM, nor did they think he was a good leader. He certainly didn't garner any legitimate respect.

Now the tie-in. My students respected me, and looked toward me for leadership. They gave their all for me and performed well because I had set up a system in which they felt safe, valued, and respected, yet challenged. Guess what-- they also liked me.

Leadership and "likership" are not incompatible. In fact, they often complement each other.

Too many Army leaders will end up like the poor CSM: no friends, and nobody who will follow them anywhere unless forced.

A true leader can have positive influence without all the stripes.

So when Soldiers tell me they hated math, I tell them it's because they didn't have the right teacher. If you don't like the Army? I'll let you figure that one out.

(Photo by SPC Drew Balstad)

Home Sweet Home

I am officially a civilian again. After a year with California's 40th Infantry Division, and a long week at Fort Lewis, we were released to our families for Thanksgiving.

And I am thankful to be away from the 40th.

A wonderfully talented unit form North Dakota has replaced us in Kosovo, so the mission in the Balkans is in good hands. You won't be seeing any more KFOR Files or Peacekeeper Videos.

But I still have plenty to write about. The blog will go on.

I have been doing a lot of thinking about the transition from Army to civilian life. Among my many mental strolls is education. I will begin teaching again soon, and I can't help but ponder, and celebrate, the distinct teaching model that dominates many good schools in the SF Bay Area. Contrasting that is the poorer Army model, so as I reintegrate in civilian teaching, many topics will beg to be blogged upon.

Another thought: I live in Oakland, a fairly dangerous city, by most measures, and I go about my business daily without a reflective belt, Kevlar helmet, or reporting to a headquarters. I'm fine. It makes me wonder why Soldiers are treated like toddlers when they assume the most challenging responsibilities.

Let me reconsider that last statement. I have a toddler (and one of the highlights of returning home is getting to know him). I don't denigrate him for every misstep and expect him to stand still until I get the count right. So Soldiers are often treated like babies, except without the fawning.

A final thought: President Obama has made the pitch to send more troops to Afghanistan. I will not comment on this blog. Politics has its own place, and if you're interested in my political views, visit my website and follow the links to my ChronWatch posts.

Check back weekly for some upbeat posts. I am happy to be home.