The Wicked and the Evil

The Wicked and the Evil
Crash Test Dummies – Songs of the Unforgiven

There are those who kneel to worship
And beg for clemency
There are those who know the hardship
Of a conscience that is not free

Some are weary, some are cold
Some barely half-alive
But the wicked and the evil
Eat, and drink, and thrive

The prisoners feel the scorching sun
As they toil among the rocks
Some are grim, some resigned
But not one ever talks

Some are weary, some are cold
Some barely half-alive
But the wicked and the evil
Eat, and drink, and thrive

The sinner knowing he has sinned
Is not saved, he is cursed
For no matter how he may repent
He's done his worst

Some are weary, some are cold
Some barely half-alive
But the wicked and the evil
Eat, and drink, and thrive

The perfect song for Afghanistan today. Kleptocracy at its finest, where corruption has to be categorized into “functional” and “dysfunctional”, where bribing someone to do their paid job is more common than trying to bribe them to not do their job.

It’s not hard to spot the wicked and the evil in Afghanistan today. They are, of course, the drug barons, the warlords and probably a majority of the ministers and governors across the country – the obvious ones. The generals and the police chiefs tend to be more subtle – demanding rent for soldiers quarters that they themselves pay no money on, or extorting money “for better rations” for policemen. But corruption has permeated every corner of this society.

My last interpreter, in his quest to emigrate to the United States, found himself paying Afghan Government clerks bribes just to get them to complete the paperwork that they were paid to complete as part of their jobs. He also had to pay the baksheesh to the Pakistani consulate for the visas required for him and his entire family to visit the US Embassy in Islamabad – they handle Afghan immigration, not the embassy in Kabul. It becomes such a regular part of life that people hardly notice – they just turn and pass the charge on to someone else as time goes by.

How do you bring a kleptocracy into the modern world. I can probably advance the argument that it won’t be that hard – they just need to learn how to play with computers and they’ll fit right in. But, just as in America, where Joe the Plumber probably hasn’t seen many benefits from the Bank and Auto bailouts yet, here in Afghanistan, it will be a very long time before Ahmed the Pashtun sees anything any less corrupt.

We’re a month into the anti-corruption 6 month deadline… haven’t seen any changes yet. One down, five to go.

Cassandra Calling...Again

I’ve said it before here on the blog somewhere – I often feel like Cassandra, which leads to some interesting lines of thought.

Cassandra was Pandora’s sister. Apollo fell in love (more likely lust, given his reputation) with her and tried to seduce her by giving her the gift of prophecy, but she rejected his advances. As punishment for spurning him, Apollo twisted the gift – no one would believe her prophecies. Cassandra was driven to madness in fairly short order thereafter.

Years ago, when we were first starting our punitive, pre-emptive wars, I sat at my desk and tried to imagine how I would strike back at the US if I were in Osama’s shoes. Now granted, my cultural mindset is in no way comparable to Osama’s, but this exercise has often proven useful in the past. It is a way of coming up with the “most dangerous enemy course of action”. Military planning doctrine is to use the “most dangerous enemy course of action” and the “most likely enemy course of action” into consideration. You plan your main effort against the most likely course of action and you build a contingency plan to deal with the most dangerous.

My worry years ago was that if Osama was as evil a thinker as I can be, then he would find a way to strike back at our military asymmetrically. The best way to do that, I felt, was to strike back at the home bases of the troops deployed to find and kill him. This would serve two purposes, both which would benefit him. It would demoralize some elements of our forces – create a strategic psychological distraction, and at the same time would enrage these same forces, potentially causing them to commit atrocities in violation of our rules of engagement and the laws of war. He, in turn, would use these atrocities to further his campaign to turn the conflict into a true Jihad, portraying us as being anti-Islam. His defense against our counter charges would be that the Koran speaks of only two lands – Dar al Islam – the land of submission to Allah/God and Dar al Harb – the land of war.

Conventional wisdom would have it silly to attack a military base, but conventional wisdom is often wrong. The only personnel with ready access to weapons are the usually undermanned Military Police-type units and possibly contract security guards at the gates. The military bases have huge housing areas full of families with either a father or mother deployed. There are commissaries and post exchanges and administration buildings, all soft targets full of unarmed people once initial access is gained.

As it turned out, Osama never did hit our bases – he never had to. We provided enough ammunition to keep his propaganda campaign going with Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo and Bagram. Then, last week, in a what had to be a vain attempt at martyrdom, one of our own committed the act that I had conceived as Osama’s most dangerous course of action.

Twice in the past two weeks now, we’ve had our own turn on us. First in Helmand Province, an Afghan Policeman opened fire on a British unit and his own comrades, killing five before escaping. This week, there are thirteen dead in Texas because a US Army Officer could not reconcile his personal beliefs with the orders he had been given and the information he had received as a military psychiatrist. Rather than resign publicly as the senior Department of State official in Zabul Province, Matt Hoh, did recently or quietly as many more have, he chose to punctuate his protest with mass murder.

At the risk of sounding like Cassandra again, I expect an insanity defense to be presented. However, in the military justice system, insanity is not a defense to the act, but merely mitigation in the sentencing. I expect the officer to be found guilty of twelve counts of murder in the first degree, and quite probably sentenced to death, which will be reduced to life imprisonment due to the insanity. Death would make him the martyr he wishes to be – the exclamation point to his protest. Life in Leavenworth will mean disappearing from all but the memories of the victims and their families – an ellipsis instead of an exclamation point. Perhaps that is a better punishment – almost Cassandra-like, in its own way. A lifetime of insanity, knowing that your protest was in vain.

While I feel no pity or sympathy for Nidal Malik Hasan, I have to admit to feeling a slight bit of empathy. On the last day of combat operations in Operation Desert Storm, I too was confronted with a situation seemingly completely antithetical to my core beliefs, both as an Army Officer, and as a human being.

The last several hours of Desert Storm were basically a race. We were racing to retake every square inch of Kuwait from Iraqi control and the Iraqi's were racing to stay ahead of us to avoid capture. In doing so, they abandoned equipment seemingly haphazardly in their single-minded flight. They also, as it turned out, abandoned their wounded.

We had reached our stop position in Northern Kuwait by mid-morning. We, in short, were exhausted. We had been going for virtually the entire 100 hour war with less than 4 or 5 hours of sleep interspersed. Despite this exhaustion, my boss, the unit intelligence officer and the intelligence sergeant took a wheeled vehicle back to look at some abandoned equipment we had passed earlier in the day. This was at the end of the Cold War and we intel types could not pass up the chance to look at some functional Soviet-made equipment. They took off and left me in the command post with the junior intelligence sergeant.

After a bit, we heard them on the radio. "Demon 2 Alpha, this is Demon 2, over."

"Demon 2, this is Demon 2 Alpha, go ahead, over"

"Demon 2 Alpha, this is Demon 2, tell Demon 3 to send the Band-Aids to my location, vicinity charlie papa 41. There are at least five zero wounded Iraqi soldiers in bunkers this location who need medical attention and will not last the night."

"Demon 2, this is Demon 2 Alpha. Roger. Verify charlie papa 41, five zero plus casualties. Wilco."

What that basically said in the radio-speak of the day was that my boss had stumbled upon an abandoned Iraqi field hospital that we had overrun unknowingly in our haste. My boss was asking me to go to the operations section (Demon 3) and ask them to send the Medical Platoon (Band Aids) back to checkpoint 41. The wounded were in underground bunkers, essentially holes in the earth, with no heat or light. The nights were getting down close to freezing, hence the warning about not lasting the night.

I put down the radio handset and walked out of my command post vehicle and over to the Operations command post vehicle. There, on duty, were three Captains (I was a First Lieutenant then). I reported what my boss had told me and requested that they send the medics over.

They refused to do so. They told me basically 1. the medics were asleep, 2. who gives a fuck about wounded Iraqis, and 3. these fucks were shooting at you three hours ago, what are you thinking, and 4. who authorized Captain S. (my boss) to go back there anyway.

I first tried to persuade them by telling them that we had to do this - we owned the land now. I was told to leave.

I then tried to use the argument that if we took no action, that this could be considered a war crime. I was told to leave now - in rather profane terms.

Finally, almost in tears of complete frustration, I implored two of the three whom I knew were West Point graduates (as I was) that this was our Duty and Honor at stake. I was then bodily pushed out of the operations track and ordered back to my vehicle amidst tauntings at my lack of emotional control.

I can honestly say that I have never been so frustrated in my adult life. My intelligence sergeant had heard most of the interplay and saw the tears streaming down my face. He was very perceptive and afterwards told me that he knew that I was "on the edge of a cliff." He jumped into my vehicle and spun the dial on the safe, locking it. That was where we kept the grenades. Pretty astute on his part.

Luckily for me, before I could get to my vehicle, the Battalion Executive Officer showed up. He saw the look on my face and assumed that something tragic had happened. He stopped me and asked me what was wrong, so I told him. This Major got it instantly. He directed me to use his radio and relay the message to the Medic Platoon.

When I did so, the Captains in the Operations track tried to cut me off, telling the Medics to "Disregard Demon 2 Alpha's transmission". The XO heard this and told me to use his call sign and that he would deal with the Captains. He went into the operations track and the yelling began.

I got the message to the Medics and off they went. When they got there, they found over 120 wounded Iraqi soldiers in the bunkers and they assisted another unit that had come upon the scene, the 2nd Armored Cavalry Regiment, in ensuring that the wounded received proper care.

The Captains were verbally reprimanded and over the course of the next few days, each of them, individually, apologized to me for their conduct. They blamed their actions on their exhaustion and their misunderstanding of what I was telling them. The Battalion Commander also talked to me, subtly pressuring me to take no further actions. I took no further actions, seeing how the realpolitik was shaping up. The histories make no mention of the event nor of the medevacs. The closest there was to an acknowledgement of what happened came almost ten months later, when I was awarded the Bronze Star Medal for my actions during the war. In presenting it, the same Battalion Commander joked (poorly) that he wasn't sure if it was for telling him where the Iraqi forces were, telling him where the Iraqi wounded were, or not killing his three Captains (who had all been transferred out by then).

In all truth, I don't know to this day. I do know that were it not for the timely intervention of a decent human being, I might have snapped due to my inability to reconcile the orders and actions of my superior officers with what I knew in my heart of hearts to be right. I have to believe that this was the same pain, anguish, and frustration that Nidal Malik Hasan was feeling, misguided as it may seem to the rest of us.

Pity, no. Sympathy, none at all. Empathy - a little, yes - for I have stared what had to be a similar madness in the face and felt its fury. At West Point they taught me that often one must choose the harder right over the easier wrong. Easy to say, hard to implement when the adrenaline is coursing through your veins.

Over the years, I've shared this story with a select few, usually veterans. A few of them have told me their own, similar stories of staring the Berserker in the face, looking over the edge of the abyss and feeling the pull towards madness. I offer it now, not as excuse, but as possible explanation to those who do not understand.

In the current case, perhaps the cruelest twist of all is that Nidal Malik Hasan was, by training, a healer. A healer who dove into the pit and became the opposite - a destroyer of life. To use another religion's deity - he became Shiva-like - creator and destroyer, a paradox. By most mainstream interpretations of Islam, he is simply what we perceive him to be, a murderer. He did not strike directly at his tormentors - he struck randomly, just as Osama did on September 11th. Mainstream Islam says that as such, he will be forgotten by Allah and tormented in Islamic hell. I think he will have pretty much the same in this life as well.

We few...we happy few...

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers:

For he today that sheds his blood with me

Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,

This day shall gentle his condition;

And gentlemen in England now-a-bed

Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here,

And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks

That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.

---Henry V – Wm Shakespeare

It was Veteran’s Day last Wednesday. I spent the morning in a helicopter taking the long way from my Forward Operating Base to Kandahar Air Field. The long way because when I jumped on, there were about 15 Dutch Soldiers already on board with their gear. The Crew Chief told me they were heading to Deh Rewood – the second largest city in Oruzgan Province to drop them off and pick up some more that had finished their tour and would be heading home.

The flight up was beautiful – CAVU – ceiling and visibility unlimited – old aviator speak for not a cloud in the sky. The Dutch Soldiers were nervous, but trying to look cool in front of each other. I remember the feeling well. For me it was also on a holiday – New Years Eve, 1990. The 747 I was on was landing at King Fahd International Airport in Ad Damman, Saudi Arabia. It was filled with soldiers from my battalion, 1^st Battalion, 34^th Armor ,1^st Infantry Division and we were going to war. We too were doing our best to be cool about things – like this was just another training deployment. I know my stomach was churning as we descended into the darkness – having no earthly idea what to expect. I saw the same look in these young Dutchmen – full of bravado – piss and vinegar (remind me to write a story on that sometime), but their eyes betrayed the butterflies they were feeling as the helicopter started its descent. I think I managed to catch the mixture of cool and butterflies in the picture.

The flight back from DR to KAF was totally different. There were about 30 soldiers who got on (I didn’t count, but a full load). This group was a band of brothers. They had lived together and likely fought together in a combat zone. As the bird lifted, I think every one of them was smiling, and by the time we landed at KAF, there was a spring in their step as they debarked the aircraft. I remember that feeling too in May of 1991 as another 747 landed at New York’s Kennedy Airport– and look forward to it again here soon as my time here wraps up.

I received many greetings and thanks from friends from all over the world yesterday (gotta love Facebook™), thanking me for my service. One, in particular, put a lump in my throat and made me think. It was from a still-serving officer who has worked for me from time to time over the years. He thanked me for being a great mentor and credited me, at least partially, for the success that he has achieved. That brought back a flood of memories of similar occurrences over the years. The farewell letters from NCOs who wrote me after they retired, thanking me for being their last officer in charge or section leader or whatever. The warm affection I feel from them when I run into them a year, five years, ten or more years later. What I realized yesterday was that these grizzled professionals were not just thanking me for being a good boss… they were thanking me for upholding the trust – both the ethereal trust of officer and gentlemen, but also for trusting them to do their jobs. They were (and are) telling me that they were considering me one of their “band of brothers”.

I am honored by this belated realization and humbled by it as well. What I would like to convey back to these men and women is that they touched my life as well - and while I may forget their names as I age, their faces never age in my memory. I thank them all for helping me become who I am today as well.

My feelings are nothing unique, nothing new. HBO's mini-series "Band of Brothers" tried to show this bonding, this respect and, let's face it, love, that goes far beyond mere friendship. "Saving Private Ryan" did it in film, and "The Best Years of Our Lives" did it both more eloquently and subtly shortly after WWII.

While the title Veteran's Day is both appropriate and proper, I like what the Commonwealth countries call it even more - Remembrance Day. Remembering the sacrifices of the one and many bands of brothers over the years is the first step in making their sacrifices mean something.

I do not think it is appropriate, however, to wish someone a "Happy Veteran's/Remembrance Day" - I think it is far more appropriate to tell them to "Have a thoughtful Veteran's/Remembrance Day." And so I wish it for all of you as well. Remember - and LEARN!

Hooah

SLK

Apologies

Well, it's been another long blog-less period. Half of my defense is that I have been very busy, the other half of my defense, if it can be called such, is that when I've had some down-time, I haven't felt like writing, or if I have felt like writing and actually did it, I did not finish the thoughts. Mea Culpa.

So, here in the next couple of days, I will try to publish several pieces that I've been working on.

Enjoy

SLK

Happy Anniversary!

I started this over a month ago, then saved it as a draft, then promptly forgot about it. At first I was going to delete it, but then thought what the heck - just because I spaced it off doesn't mean that I feel or felt it any less. So here it is, a month late and out of sequence.

Happy October and Happy First Anniversary of my arrival on the far side of the world. Just over one year ago I arrived at my tiny Forward Operating Base near Kandahar to begin my adventure and new job of teaching/mentoring the Afghan National Security Forces.

It's been an interesting year. Looking back over my entries these past 10 months, I'm amazed at what I haven't chosen to write about as much as I am by what I did. The good news is that the weather has cooled off enough that generators are no longer the bane of my daily existence. That is a good thing, since the Afghan side is currently short one - blown head gasket, see previous blogs on "Fixing the Army" for the fun involved with fixing it.

I realized that I haven't written much about friendships here. Most places I have worked, I tend to have many friendly acquaintances but only one or two people that will remain friends beyond the work environment. Until recently, most military personnel were only here for six month tours. I arrived at the end of the New York National Guard's tour, was here for all of the Virginia Guard's tour as well as the short-lived Alabama/Tennessee Guard's stay (they were reassigned in another area because of internal Army politics - which was too bad, they were great guys), and am now working with the Kansas Guard under Active Duty leadership. Likewise the Coalition Forces members here have rotated regularly... I've gotten to know British, Dutch, and Canadian officers and men and learned much from all.

The longest-lived friendship here is with another US contractor, who has been here almost nine months. Ron is NOT what one would expect to see. He is a solidly built African American with long dreadlocks and a full beard. His expertise is communications and satellite equipment and he knows his stuff. He has the type of personality that everyone gravitates to. He left the other day for the states for a medical procedure. Not much fun to have your gall bladder go on the fritz in a war zone - I hope everything works out and he makes it back when he plans to - he's one of the good guys.

A few weeks ago another friendship changed when Jerry, a Dutch Major, finished his tour of duty and went back to the Netherlands. He and I didn't always agree, but we "got" each other. phrase he taught us was "You can go now.", used whenever he was getting the worst in a discussion. In exchange, I taught him the proper usage of the phrase "You Dick!" He introduced me to some wonderful Dutch cookies and other foodstuffs and I introduced him to "Firefly" - the short-lived US TV-series from a few years ago. I will miss evenings watching movies and Firefly on my computer with him, munching on cookies and Dutch sausages and the like. He's good company, but then again, he's good people, one of the band of brothers.

I've also established friendships with several Afghans. Friendships with the Afghans are a little different. Many Afghans want to be your friend, for friends do things for each other and buy things for each other. They might give me a ring or a scarf for my wife, then expect me to buy them a computer - after all, I make more money than they do, so it should be no problem, right? Luckily, I do have a few who are happy just to be friends, to share a cup (or six or seven) of chai or a meal together, and talk of families and houses and better days. These are good men that can put aside major cultural differences and accept others without judgment. I just hope that all the players here leave them a country that can be put back together again - or if not, can fragment without a civil war ensuing. High hopes, to be sure. No matter what happens, I wish only the best for men like Ahmad Shah, Mirwais Noorzai and Haji Mohammad. They are good men, in any culture, who I am proud to know.

As for the rest, the pleasant acquaintances and such, are like ships that pass in the night. Sometimes you see them and remember them, other times they become lost over the horizon as time slides inexorably on.

Hooah

SLK

Counter-Fear-Based-Operations

A few years ago, the US Military came up with a new euphemism for its emerging operational doctrine. “Effects-Based-Operations” or EBO seemed to be the perfect catch-all – it was short, catchy, ostensibly said what it intended to mean, and conveyed a sense of “thinking through things” before letting the cannonballs fly. It certainly was not as evocative or provocative as “Shock and Awe”, especially as Shock and Awe apparently did neither outside of the immediate blast radius of the bombs. Unfortunately, as much of corporate America already knows, coming up with an advertising campaign is often much easier than creating a product worthy of being advertised.

The challenge to the US forces has been to come up with a clear effect desired that can actually be realized by the operation planned. We want the effect to be the removal of the Taliban or other insurgents from an area. So, we plan a kinetic operation that involves major military muscle movements to go in and clear a district (or two or three) of Taliban. Sure enough, the insurgents all but disappear – nobody has seen them, “No Taliban here – they are all in the “next” village – but they are very bad”. And so forth. Eventually we give up, declare victory and pull back to our bases and then we wonder how the insurgents all reappear so quickly. After all, these people should embrace freedom and democracy, right? The root of this problem is, as David Kilcullen recently put it, “We’ve been fighting the insurgents, not the insurgency.”

The Taliban and other insurgent forces in Afghanistan, on the other hand, have a very clear idea of the effect that they want to create. Fear. Pure and simple, FEAR. I call their doctrine “Fear-Based-Operations” or FBO for short, and it is wonderfully simple and almost guaranteed to work, as opposed to our own Effects-Based-Operations. It is basically an information campaign backed up by targeted kinetic operations, in effect, turning our normal “kinetic ops with information supporting” on its head.

This nature of the fundamental relationship between kinetic operations and non-kinetic, or information operations marks the main difference between EBO and FBO is the. Kinetic operations are those involving troop movements, close air support, troops in contact, presence patrols, etc. Non-kinetic, or information operations are those designed to change perceptions and or beliefs. In the old days, information operations involved leaflet drops, “psyop broadcasts”, and radio propaganda. The US and Coalition militaries see the kinetic operation as the main effort with everything else supporting – even when it isThe Afghan Insurgents actually make it much simpler. It is a broadsheet posted on the door to the village mosque in the night. The sheet informs the residents that anyone found with ink on their fingers on election day will have their finger cut off, or their head cut off, or their family massacred in their sleep (all of which have been threatened this election season). This non-kinetic message instills the fear of the unknown – can they follow through, will they follow through – is it worth my finger/head/family to vote?

All it takes are a few kinetic actions to cement this fear in the average Afghan psyche. One or two people are made examples of beforehand – beaten for having a voter-registration card, or blown up by an IED after visiting a registration center. Of course, the insurgents are not bound by any law of war, criminal law, or anything else, so they have the freedom to do these types of actions. We, the coalition do not have this same freedom – we must fight for and by the rule of law, which is actually a huge advantage, but we squander it miserably.

The only way to counter Fear-Based-Operations is to create the opposite of fear – Hope. Hope is a commodity in extremely short supply here in Afghanistan. It has been crushed and ground out of the everyday existence of many Afghans over the past 30 years of virtually constant warfare. This withering if hope is shown in the omnipresent “Inshallah” – as God wills it. The main difference is that people WANT to hope – they do not want to fear – so hope, like a perennial weed, keeps creeping back into the psyche. After all, it’s got to get better than this, right? Inshallah?

So, the challenge to the Coalition Forces in Afghanistan is to create and implement “Hope-Based-Operations” where “Hope” is the desired effect. Now, after we roll into a village, “clearing” it of insurgents, we must roll in the civil assistance – in a coordinated effort. This means we should probably screen and train the Police and Government officials who come in to reestablish the Government presence beforehand – no corruption allowed. If we damage property, we fix it better than it was before. We help the village help itself improve by supplying materials and technical skills – but we hire and pay the villagers to do the labor to instill ownership. We do what it takes to get the family, village, and tribal elders to support us, reinforcing their respected positions vis a vis the Government officials. If we kill someone, we make it good with the families (even if they are bad guys). If we detain someone, we inform the village elders so they can inform the families. Mostly, we show patience and we follow through on our word and reinforce the rule of law.

The messages we MUST convey are direct contradictions to the messages the insurgents cannot but send: “They take, we give”, “they hurt, we heal”, “they destroy, we build”, “they come and go in the night, we stand by you 24 hours a day”. These are the very essence of Counter-Fear-Based-Operations. The Coalition cannot do it alone – the Afghan Security Forces must buy-in and adopt this wholeheartedly.

Unfortunately, the bulk of the US Military is ill-equipped to implement or execute this type of strategy. Bluntly speaking, they have been trained to kill and destroy a conventional enemy – and they are exceptionally good at that. They distrust these “touchy-feely” ways and just wish the “damn Taliban bastards would come out and fight like men”. Hooah! What is needed is to assemble a group who can do this, who have been trained by the likes of Chuck DeCaro in his SoftWar Doctrine at the National Defense University or guys like John Nagl – a soldier with a thousand pound brain if there ever was one. Unconventional thinkers who “get” that hope beats fear just as paper beats rock every time.

This group could then train and advise the Coalition leadership in Afghanistan, to include the Afghan National Army and Afghan National Police forces. They have leaders like LTG Karimi of the ANA and LTG Mangal of the ANP do understand these concepts and who can provide the direction from above. At the lower levels, we control both the purse strings and most of the logistics infrastructure supporting these forces.

I realize that this may be “pie-in-the-sky”, but there is a rising chorus singing almost this same melody. The question at hand is do we have the right composers and conductors who can bring out the power and the beauty in the music? Not without help.

"Fixing" the Army

It's been a fun month or so here in Kandahar since my last post. July is the hottest month of the summer and the heat effects everything. The overall climate here is similar to Las Vegas or Phoenix, but with one major difference - Electricity. Stable, reliable electricity.

The trend in America (and also the NATO countries) since the Wall came down has been to downsize the militaries - cut the nonessential functions and create the "leaner, meaner" military that can deploy anywhere on a moments notice. This we have done, but in the process have created something we didn't anticipate - a bonanza for contractors and suppliers.

Armies used to be huge - they were designed to be entirely self sufficient in hostile territory. There were entire units dedicated to such seemingly non-military and mundane things as Power Generation, Laundry and Bath Services, and Pipleline Installation and Operations. Yet, when operating in the field, these units became indispensible to support the soldiers. But huge Armies are hard to move and very expensive to maintain in peacetime. Once the Wall came down, we decided that we didn't need these "luxuries" and, in keeping with the corporate strategy du jour, downsized them and outsourced them. However, in using this corporate model, we have become dependent on the contractors to literally keep us running. Let's look at electricity as an example.

In America, we take electricity almost completely for granted. It is almost always there, and when its not, there's normally a good reason. It is also stable - we know that when we plug something into a wall socket that the current will be 110 volts - not 175 or 39 or 500. Here, it is neither omnipresent nor is it stable. The most stable power source here is generators (yes, I'm ranting on generators again, sorry - big part of my life here). Yet generators are mere machines, and like most machines, need maintenance.

Generators are probably the most critical item in the Coalition's effort here in Afghanistan. Grid power is, at best, unreliable in most parts of the country, if it is available at all. Here, in Kandahar City, grid power is on for maybe 18 hours out of every 48. When it is on, it is very "dirty", with spikes and drops - both of which are damaging to anything depending on it. Voltage regulators and surge supressors are essential, as are Uninterrupted Power Supplies to keep things going through the spikes and drops, and outright outages. So much of our effort depends on technology that is electrically driven that I do not believe I am reaching too far with my first sentance of the paragraph. Simply put, without generators, we fail.

Unfortunately, in our quest to downsize and streamline, we have lost much of the inherent capacity we once had to maintain our generators. Every unit used to have Generator Mechanics on its manning roster - no more. The tactical generators have been simplified, "soldier-proofed", and the maintenance has been shifted to a much higher echelon, with the result that the Generator Mechanic positions were consolidated, downsized, streamlined, and, for the most part, eliminated. Most of the time, however, we are not using tactical generators though - we are using commercial grade generators just like the ones you see at construction sites or next to critical facilities. This is where the lack of mechanics hits hard - we expect that since we can outsource the generators, we can outsource the maintenance too.

I'm sure this made perfect sense to guys like Rumsfeld. No need to carry these "non-essential" functions when they could be outsourced. This was how we made the Army "leaner". And it wasn't just Generator Mechanics, but Cooks, and Electricians and Plumbers and a myriad of other specialties that don't make much sense in a garrison army in the US, but make a huge difference in the field.

In the US, if something like a generator fails, one simply opens the telephone book, looks under "generator" and starts calling until a satisfactory deal can be arranged. The odds are generally better than even that the work will be completed competently and things will be back to normal very quickly. In my house recently the main spring on my garage door failed. Within 48 hours my wife was able to contact a reliable contractor who replaced the spring, checked the rest of the operating mechanism and offered a warranty on the work for a reasonable price.

Here, the first challenge is that there is no telephone book. You might try an internet search, as some firms have found the web, but if your generator is out, you may not have power, so that is not a guaranteed method. The solution here is to have a "fixer". A fixer is a guy who knows everyone, or at least convinces you that he knows everyone. You tell him the problem, he contacts someone (most likely a relative) who has some knowledge ("some" being very relative) of the problem who will come fix it for you. There is no certifications, no guarantees that the guy who shows up has ever even seen your particular type of generator - his experience may be on repairing bus engines, but they are both diesel and that is close enough... for them. Oh, and the fixer gets a cut off the top - probably from both sides.

The "mechanic" who shows up (or the electrician or any other "professional") may or may not have tools, most likely will not have basic parts like filters or fluids. You must supply these or pay an extra arm and/or leg to have them get them. They, more often than not, know where to get them while you do not. They always say that they are going to "the bazaar" to get things - I wish I could go see this bazaar - we've had them get everything from folding chairs to 200 amp main circuit breakers to wireless routers to the aforementioned generator filters. I figure it must make Costco look like a poor imitation. In reality, it's just a matter of knowing who to talk to and negotiating a price. The mechanic will generally tear into whatever the problem is, creating a pile of nuts and bolts and miscellaneous pieces until the unit is completely non-functional. Then he will announce that he does not have a requried part, tool, or capability and must go back to the shop. Once he returns, most likely the next day, he will masterfully put everything back together again and announce that it is now fixed. Sometimes it is, sometimes it's not, but that will just mean another service call for him, for now he has established a relationship both with you and your fixer.

The result is that both the US Army and our Afghan allies are now dependent on these maintenance services. We do not have the personnel with the expertise to train the Afghans, and they do not have dedicated Generator Mechanics on their manning documents (because they copied ours) so they fall into the same cycle/trap. The end result is that lots of money ends up changing hands to ensure that the generators (and the plumbing, wiring, HVAC, etc) keep working - with less than optimum results. I have to wonder if it wouldn't be cheaper to add a Generator Mechanic, an Electrician, and a Plumber to every units manning document - but that would go against the leaner Army. Oh well.