Writer, blogger, strategic entrepreneur: Influencing the influencer

Doug Jarvis, my brother, visited my son SFC Philip Jarvis and his family in Schweinfurt, Germany, the week before the 1-2 deployed to FOB Iskan, Iraq. His observation and reflection follow.

I stood there in the drizzle, trying to warm myself against the wind. It was 6:15 in the morning; the sun was nowhere in sight. Around me were fifteen or twenty 30-something American men, most of them dressed in shorts or sweatpants and light Gore-Tex jackets with patches displaying unit, rank and name velcroed to the camouflaged fabric.

They are part of the “new” American army, specifically the B Company of the 1st Battalion, 2nd Brigade of the army’s 172nd Infantry Regiment. They were involved in a voluntary physical training period during which they attempted to meet or improve on a set of standards that would allow them to wear an embroidered badge on their black scarves.

Black scarves in the army? The “1-2,” as they are known, is the only infantry battalion authorized to wear a scarf with their daily uniform, a legacy of the Viet Nam war. The black scarves and the designation 1,2 are new to the battalion. At its core, the unit’s provenance is the 1-18 INF, “Vanguard.”

Vanguard served in Kosovo and then, during its first deployment, in the northern cities of Iraq. During its second deployment it was at the heart of turning Al Anbar province into a state where Al Qaeda and Sunni Nationalists were not wanted. The physical training this morning was optional, because all of their equipment is on its way to Iraq for their third “visit;” and they would leave three days later, right after Thanksgiving.

This morning’s group was led by Captain Brian Weightman, the Commander of “B” company and 1st Lt. Mike Miller, newly appointed as one of its Platoon Leaders. In the rain and with a head wind, Weightman ran five miles in thirty-three minutes. Suffering from a pulled groin muscle, he omitted the other parts of the test.

New to the unit, Miller, on the wet ground, started off with eighty-two sit-ups in two minutes, followed almost immediately by ninety-one push-ups in the same time period. He then ran the five miles in thirty-six minutes and finished up with a set of chin-ups and pull-ups to meet the standard on his first attempt.

Later that day, on a sloppy soccer field and pelted by alternate showers of rain and sleet, the officers of the 1-2 met the NCO’s in a one-hour game of two-handed touch football which could have passed for an NFL scrimmage. These are really tough guys.

But they are also bright, professional, extremely well trained. Furthermore, they are part an institution that emphasizes the concept of family and the value of the individual.

That evening, the Family Readiness Group, comprised of the dependents and several commercial organizations serving the military, held a farewell party for the 1-2. In a large, heated tent, three or four hundred men and those dependents living in Germany ate hamburgers and hot dogs, drank good draft beer and Cokes and dodged children under their feet. They watched as the unit’s commander, Lt. Col. Steven Miska, announced promotions, handed out awards and thanked the families for their support while the unit is in Iraq.

This was no Hollywood speech with patriotic backdrop and a memorized script. It was the heart-felt thoughts of a leader talking with his family of soldiers, wives and children. I realized I was in the company of heroes. Not just the soldiers, but the wives and children who will spend the next year coping alone with their family’s invariable problems.

For me it was an emotional American moment. The feelings I had watching this group define the word, “patriotism.”

If my country is forced by others to maintain a standing army, then I am thankful that I am being protected by units like the 1-2 and its men, women and dependents.

The Army I knew in the mid-fifties was quietly resting after the Korean War and convinced that it had no important future in the scheme of things. It was not in shape, not proficient in its military tasks, lax in discipline and rife with recalcitrant men acting out their frustration at being in the military.

A “problem” soldier provided the clue as to why the two armies were so different. The soldier was on the verge of leaving the outfit and the military, only to be caught up in the Army-wide “Stop-Loss” order prohibiting a return to civilian life. The order forced him to stay an additional sixteen months and into another deployment to Iraq. He had become a discipline problem and was heading for an unfavorable discharge but was brought back in line by the insightful work of his platoon sergeant and others. The Army had, once again, reoriented one of its own who was headed in the wrong direction. In doing so, it retained an experienced soldier, and a soldier’s life was kept heading in the right direction.

The difference, which had eluded me, was that mine was a conscripted army; and the men and women of today’s army are all hand-selected volunteers and thus more career-oriented than the indifferent draftees I served with. In return, they are respected by the organization as valuable assets and maintained with great care.

All the high-tech equipment in the world won’t create a great military force. It’s the motivated privates, sergeants and officers, as exemplified by the 1-2, that win the battles and, with their professionalism, deter even more battles than they win.

Whenever, wherever called, the administration of peace is the result of an effective military, and the willingness to use it.

Tagged as: 1-2, 1st Lt. Mike Miller, black scarves, Captain Brian Weightman, FOB Iskan, Iraq, Lt. Col. Steven Miska, SFC Philip Jarvis