Redeployment(47)

You could see smirks everywhere. “I guess that pogue thinks he joined the f*cking Peace Corps,” I heard Boden stage-whisper to his first sergeant, loud enough for the Marines around him to hear. “Oh no,” he continued in a mocking, high-pitched voice, “some real men might go out and kill some al-Qaeda. But I just wanna be friends.”

That was his attitude before his company got dropped in the most violent sector of the most violent city in Iraq. I couldn’t go to Captain Boden. He wouldn’t care, and he wouldn’t want me, a chaplain of all people, meddling.

Who else? The battalion commander wasn’t much better. Lieutenant Colonel Fehr was universally loathed among the staff and paid attention to none of them. Before the deployment, before I’d even met him for the first time, our operations officer, Major Eklund, had felt the need to prepare me.

“He’s gonna do this handshake,” the major said. “It’s called the dominance shake. He does it to everybody.”

Eklund was a Catholic convert and had a tendency to tell me more than he should, inside the confessional and out.

“The dominance shake,” I said, amused.

“That’s what he calls it. He’s going to take your hand in his, grip it real hard, and then twist his wrist so his hand is on top of yours. That’s the dominance position. And then, instead of shaking up and down, he’ll pull you in and slap you on the shoulder and feel your bicep with his free hand. It’s Fehr’s little way of peeing on your personal tree.”

“You think he’ll do it to me? I’m a chaplain.”

“He does it to everybody. I don’t think he can help it. He did it to my nine-year-old son at the battalion Easter egg hunt.”

Then I met the colonel, got dominance handshook, and received the vague introductory pleasantries that let me know this commander looked at chaplains as the pray-at-ceremonies guys, not as trusted advisers. Fehr was worlds more composed than Boden, but he didn’t seem to care much for ROE either. Two months after our first meeting, I saw him interrupt a trainer at Mojave Viper going over escalation of force procedures.

“If a vehicle is coming toward you fast,” the trainer said to the assembled Marines, “it might be a suicide bomber, or it might just be a frustrated, distracted Iraqi trying to get to work on time. If the first couple steps of EOF don’t work, you can fire a round in front of the car, not trying to injure—”

Here’s where the colonel jumped up and stopped the lesson. “When we shoot, we shoot to kill,” he shouted. The Marines roared in response. “I’m not having any of my Marines die because they hesitated,” the colonel continued. “Marines do not fire warning shots.”

The trainer, a captain, was stunned. You can’t contradict an O5, especially not in front of his men, so he didn’t say anything, but the whole unit had just been taught to ignore MEF policy. The Marines got the message. Kill.





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In the end, I went to Major Eklund. I figured he’d at least hear me out.

“I’m worried about Charlie Company.”

“Yeah, we’re all worried about Charlie Company.” Major Eklund shrugged. “They’re led by an idiot. What are you gonna do?”

I gave him a condensed, anonymous version of Rodriguez’s story about doing naked jumping jacks to attract fire.

Major Eklund laughed. “That sounds like a lance corporal solution.”

“You think this is funny.”

“I’ll bring it up with Captain Boden.”

That hardly satisfied me. “The Marines don’t seem to see much difference between civilians and combatants. Some Marines have been hinting at worse than stupid tactics.”

Eklund sighed.

“Perhaps,” I said, “some of their firefights could be looked into a little more. To make sure we’re targeting actual enemy.”

Eklund stiffened. “An investigation?” He shook his head. “Into what?”

“There are some questionable—”

“Only the commander can recommend an investigation.” He shook his head. “And Chaps, all respect, but this is way the f*ck out of your purview.”

“Marines talk to me,” I said, “and—”

“This is nothing,” he said. “Last month Weapons Company shot two hajjis I know they didn’t follow ROE on. And Colonel Fehr didn’t think that was worth an investigation. You know what he told me? ‘I don’t want my Marines thinking I don’t have their backs. And I really don’t want them hesitating to shoot when they need to.’ And that was the end of the story, Chaps.”