"War" by Sebastian Junger

War by Sebastian Junger is the story of the 2nd Platoon, Battle Company, 173rd Airborne Brigade fighting at FOB Restrepo. Located in the Korengal Valley's isolated RC East, the 15 to 20 2nd Platoon soldiers fought in almost 500 firefights during their 15-month deployment — some 20 percent of all Afghan combat in that time period. Through five lengthy embeds, Junger followed this single platoon with the goal of conveying "combat" to the civilian audience.

Junger is no novice. Years before he wrote A Perfect Storm, he was traveling from Kosovo to Bosnia to Liberia to Sierre Leone to Kashmir, reporting on human rights violations, war crimes and the kidnapping of civilians as a terror tool. He's also no stranger to Afghanistan; prior to 9/11 he profiled the Northern Alliance leader Ahmed Shah Massoud as they fought against the Taliban for a National Geographic special. So his current best-seller War is written from a depth of knowledge and experience that few writers possess. I recently spoke with him about his book and the time spent with 2nd Platoon, Battle Company.

At one point # 3 on The New York Times bestseller list, War brings the reader directly into the fight at Restrepo. The base is isolated in a valley so remote that the locals speak a different language (Korengali) than the rest of Afghanistan. The reader is thrown into the firefights, ambushes and boredom that make up a deployment. It's in the blend of firefights and boredom where Junger excels; his descriptions, from AK rounds snapping past his head to the primitive living conditions to the funny yet totally sophomoric humor, are amongst the most realistic portrayal of soldiers in combat published to date. "If I sleep with your mother, does that make me your father?" one soldier asks another, and the resulting philosophical and genealogical debate lasted until...the next firefight.

Being this close to the fight, however, brings some disturbing observations about war, and comradeship. The 2nd Platoon has fallen into the practice of giving each member a "beat-down," where the platoon pummels each member.

"It's a form of initiation rite," Junger explained to me,"it's a way of bonding, as well as reinforcing the concept that the group, in this case 2nd Platoon, takes precedence over the individual." An anthropologist by training, Junger continued, "It isn't about abuse, similar to Lord of the Flies, it's about demonstrating group inclusion, knowing that everyone is committed to the unit. You've got a small group of young men, heavily armed, in 4-5 TIC's (troops-in-combat) daily... no email, little comm[unication] with family... their world consists solely of their fellow soldiers. Is it a normal ritual? Probably not, but look at where and how they're spending 15 months."

Despite his previous trips to combat zones, these embeds in Restrepo were Junger's first embed with the Army. Impartiality and accuracy are of paramount importance to a journalist, and especially one of Junger's stature, yet in War he writes of the impossibility of remaining impartial. "I'm living in close quarters with the soldiers. I eat, sleep, and go on patrol with them, and too many AK rounds and RPG's have barely missed us all. But remember, I'm not writing an opinion piece; I'm sharing their experiences in order to bring their story to you."

He does this very well as he describes life at Restrepo, "It's a miraculous kind of anti-paradise up here, heat and dust and tarantulas and flies. No women and no running water and no cooked food. Nothing to do but kill and wait."

After spending five months sharing danger and boredom, Junger finds himself drawing closer to the soldiers of 2nd Platoon and losing any journalist sense of impartiality, but he knows he needs to find a balance between being a journalist and being a combatant. After all, press credentials are worthless in a firefight. Despite the daily threat of being killed, Junger draws his own line at potential levels of his involvement "Oh, I'll carry ammo if asked, and they gave me a refresher in combat first aid. But I'm careful not to become like those journalists who confuse themselves with the story they're covering."

Responsible combat journalism is a difficult assignment, but Junger handles the partial-impartial question well. Embedded with a close-knit unit for some 35 percent of their deployment while sharing the firefights, the boredom and the isolation, all thoughts of impartiality disappear once the first AK-47 round hits the Hesco over one's head and the soldier next to him returns fire. Junger acknowledges this conundrum head-on, and in doing so, brings even greater poignancy to the story of 2nd Platoon, Battle Company.

Shortly after War was published, Gen. Stanley McChrystal closed all the Army FOB's in the Korengal, with the bland statement that engagement in the Korengal no longer fit into the Army's strategic vision. Junger mentioned to me that it would be interesting to see what the surviving soldiers of 2nd Platoon thought of the decision that their 15 months and some 500 firefights had been deemed unnecessary.

Movie Review: "The Hurt Locker"

"The Hurt Locker" is good, gut-slammer cinema that captures, quite accurately"

By Michael Fumento
Philelphia Inquirer, 2 Aug '09

One word keeps appearing in reviews of The Hurt Locker, the critically acclaimed war film: realism.

"Realism is the special effect," was the title of one article about the film's producers. "Realism makes for explosive cinema," read the headline of the Chicago Sun-Times review of the film, which follows a three-member Army Explosives Ordnance Disposal (EOD) team over the last 38 days of its 2004 Baghdad deployment.

Actual EOD technicians have been surprised by the description. So was I, a former Army airborne combat engineer (whose job included blowing things up) and journalist who embedded briefly in 2005 with Navy-Marine EOD near Fallujah. That surprise is because of some of the film's serious unrealities, such as:

The men repeatedly don 100-pound bomb suits (useless if the typical rigged howitzer shell goes off in your face) when remote-controlled robots are routinely used. The primary robot, the Talon, pulls the detonation apparatus apart. If it breaks down, as it did in the opening scene of the film, a smaller backup robot (called a "blowbot") carrying plastic explosives blows apart the wiring. I saw this on my first blast in Iraq.

The three EOD technicians in the film repeatedly fire at the enemy. That rarely happens, though the enemy does shoot at them. Rather, EOD meets up with MPs or other soldiers who handle the combat.

In one tense scene, a Barrett .50-caliber sniper rifle jams because some of the huge rounds have fresh blood on them. No way. The amazingly powerful weapon also would have punched right through the flimsy building material that in the film protects the attackers.

It was also irritating to see the soldiers wearing uniforms they wouldn't have been issued until the next year.

In short, The Hurt Locker is not reality but what moviegoers demand: a fast-paced shoot-'em-up. The Sun-Times review title is exactly wrong: Unless the focus is on one extreme, relatively short event - such as Blackhawk Down - reality is financial death for a war film.

That's because reality is the proverbial 99 percent boredom and 1 percent sheer terror. Box-office bucks demand 99 percent action and 1 percent interlude for a bathroom break. Soldiers, too, like those movies - even after seeing the real thing.

The most obvious explanation for what the reviewers perceived as realism is that they know no more about war, Iraq, or EOD than EOD technicians know about reviewing movies.

Fortunately, they are indeed just movie reviewers. Much damage has been inflicted by journalists who "reported" on Iraq from the safety and isolation of their stateside armchairs. Or those who "reported" on combat and the conditions under which combat soldiers must live, and sometimes die, from a Baghdad hotel.

A more complimentary explanation is that the film is visually and emotionally intense, pulling in the audience. When the soldiers are spooked, you're spooked. When they're confused, you're confused.

"Where's the firing coming from?" they ask, desperately scouring the horizon. You find yourself scanning for them. The fog of war drifts from the screen into the theater.

Which is to say I thought it was a damn good movie.

What I was really looking for - besides the action, that is - was respectful treatment of the U.S. soldier in Iraq, as professional a fighter as this nation has ever deployed. And here the term realism truly applied.

The EOD soldiers were scared and often unsure. True, one was a hot dog who repeatedly and needlessly risked his life and those of his teammates. In reality, he probably would have been disciplined, if not replaced. But his actions were central to the plot.

Despite their flaws, these men did their best not just to defuse the bombs and protect U.S. troops, but to protect Iraqi civilians as well.

And there were no hints of glory. That's good. I saw a lot of things in Iraq. Mostly trash heaps, it seems. But I never saw anything glorious.

Granted, the movie soldiers repeatedly faced false dangers. But these nevertheless represented the real ones the movie didn't depict - including being ambushed en route to a mission and hitting bombs planted especially for responding EOD units. The EOD team that replaced the one I embedded with hit such a bomb in its second week of deployment; two Marines horribly burned to death.

Because the homemade bomb is the insurgents' primary weapon, there's nobody they want to kill more than those who defuse them.

That's the brutal reality. And it's a fitting tribute that the best movie to come out of the Iraq war is a testament to the brave bomb-detonators of the EOD.

See "Taking Chance' on HBO, 21 Feb

MOVIE REVIEW
Taking Chance
By David J. Danelo
USNI's "Proceedings", Feb 2009

"Taking Chance" written by Ross Katz and Michael Strobl. Directed by Ross Katz. Starring Kevin Bacon and Blanche Baker. HBO Films. February 2009.

Hollywood illustrates some military stories distastefully, particularly when politics leaves veracity open to debate. HBO’s Taking Chance, a tale of devotion to fallen warriors, is not one of them.

This honorable, poignant, and dignified rendering of Marine Corps Lieutenant Colonel Michael Strobl’s escort of a Marine slain in Iraq pays tribute not only to those who have died in battle, but also to all who bear witness to their final journey home.

It’s usually the duty of the casualty assistance calls officer to come face-to-face
with a grieving parent and attempt simultaneously to explain death and honor life on
a grateful nation’s behalf. In 2004, Lieutenant Colonel Strobl (played by Kevin Bacon) paused from churning out personnel reports at Quantico and volunteered to shoulder a portion of that burden himself. As depicted by Mr. Bacon, Strobl is guilt-stricken that he is neither in the fight nor doing a greater part to support Marines in harm’s way.

Recalling the actor’s 1992 portrayal of Captain Jack Ross in A Few Good Men, viewers may struggle to imagine anyone other than Bacon in this role. The psychological
juxtaposition of (Captain) Bacon thundering away at a witness in a courtroom
16 years ago with (Lieutenant Colonel) Bacon wrapping up a less-than-eventful
twilight tour adds another layer of realism to his present character. No matter how many degrees of separation he may be from the real thing, Kevin Bacon is to Marine officers as Al Pacino is to Sicilian dons.

The journey itself is predictable: we immediately know what happened to then-Private First Class Chance Phelps (his promotion warrant to lance corporal arrived after his death), we know where he is going, and we know the reason. Less certain, however, is Strobl’s internal compass, which is what keeps the film interesting, even engrossing. “What about you? What’s your deal?” asks a curly-haired civilian teenager while transporting Strobl from Dover to Philadelphia International Airport. “My deal is . . . complicated,” the officer replies. The reverse winds up
to be just as true: the young driver had signed up for casualty duty after two of his high school pals were sent to Iraq, yet he struggles to relate to Strobl’s passion and enthusiasm for the martial calling.

Stroble's reactions to the civilian interactions - most are respectful, others awkward— sustain Taking Chance’s dramatic thread. Strobl smiles thinly and nods after being upgraded to first class by a tearyeyed flight attendant, then stares down a TSA employee who badgers him about his bag of metal objects (PFC Phelps’s personal effects) and his metal-spangled Service Green Alpha uniform jacket. At each stop along the way—Philadelphia, Minneapolis, Billings—pilots, luggage handlers, and travelers place caps and hands over hearts, pausing to pay homage. As the hearse from Rafferty’s Funeral Home snakes through the arid mountain passes of Montana into Wyoming, carsand trucks turn on headlights, eventually forming an impromptu funeral procession led by an 18-wheeler.

The film strikes two particular emotional chords. First, Marines love each other. The
brotherhood is sometimes distilled into more antiseptic phrases, such as “fierce
devotion to duty.” The film avoids hollow sentimentality and instead conveys the
depth of enduring affection and fraternity that goes with wearing the uniform. More significant, Americans love that Marines love each other. We “support the troops,”
in part, because all of us—military or civilian—long for human connections of
such profundity and self-sacrifice that they would transcend death. The pudgy businessman and spindly cowgirl whose hands cover their hearts affirm as citizens that the Marine who died risked his fate on their behalf. And, rightly, they love him for it.

These are not new notions, but HBO’s restrained, exemplary illustration of them
makes this a striking film. Taking Chance has already been nominated for the Grand
Jury Prize at the 2009 Sundance Film Festival; it should also be considered for other
awards. Even if it receives no formal recognition, the film deserves praise for depicting the squared-away nobility and solemn grandeur of America’s relationship with her Marines. Make no mistake: Lance Corporal Chance Phelps would be proud of this film.

Mr. Danelo served in Iraq as a Marine captain in 2004. A frequent contributor to Proceedings, he is the author of Blood Stripes: The Grunt’s View of the War in Iraq (Stackpole Books, 2006). Mr. Danelo was wounded near Fallujah three days before Lance Corporal Chance Phelps was killed.