Inside the Headquarters

We don’t hear much about those labeled “missing in action.” They are categorized as “remains not recovered.” The Defense Prisoner of War/Missing Personnel Office is the silent warrior in this war to find the fallen whose remains have not made it home.

One of the biggest challenges with resting places remains North Korean. By DPMO estimates, 4,000 lie waiting in that country, though this number seems low, especially for the Unsan/Chongchon area listed at 1,559 possible remains. Thousands of U.S. servicemen, mostly Army, died en masse early in the war.

Numbers aside, North Korea has offered to allow recovery teams back inside the country.

The U.S. has declined Pyongyang’s offer citing the need for the nation to agree resume discussion on halting its nuclear future. Though DPMO is a Defense Department entity, it seems odd to hold prisoner its mission even with crucial nuclear talks. Our guess is the North Koreans may decline the U.S. demand and DPMO will lose this rare opportunity.

Thirty-three missions to North Korea between 1996 and 2005 yielded the positive identification of 20 sets of remains. This number may seem insignificant compared to the numbers who wait. And wait. It is needle-in-a-haystack work and searchers rely on information from survivors, records, families, and locals even nearly 60 years later.

Having worked with a few interviewers from DPMO, this office seems to care about its mission about finding the deceased. I would think after some time, the remains become living people and DPMO is on a rescue mission. To hold DPMO and those who wait patiently in far-off places prisoner to much larger political realities, no matter their import seems a disservice to the Defense Department today, in the past and to service members and veterans. And the missing and their families.

Maybe lawmakers will find this issue matters to their constituents.

Pennsylvania Congressman John Murtha slipped away without fanfare February 8 at a Northern Virginia Hospital from complications following gall bladder surgery.

Better known as the King of Pork than for his Marine Corps roots, Murtha was our target for good-natured comments here at Inside the Headquarters. “Live like no one is watching” is what we will take away from John Murtha, though we think the venerable lawmaker lived like everyone was watching for the sake of the people he represented.

Murtha’s stated opposition to the Iraq war was a mere distraction from his role as power broker and wheeler-dealer. This Earl of Earmarks brought federal funds and jobs to his beloved Johnstown, Pennsylvania.

Murtha is said to be the first Vietnam combat veteran to serve in Congress, elected in 1974. His Marine Corps service started during the Korean War, after which he joined the reserves. He is said to have volunteered for active duty in 1966 and headed off to Vietnam. He received two Purple Hearts, a Bronze Star, and Vietnamese Cross of Gallantry.

Murtha had seemed especially cantankerous of late where the military services were concerned. We preferred to call him “Blurtha” because we never knew what he might toss out next. Was he the consummate, calculating, Crazy-Like-a-Fox of the House?

We have written about John Murtha 12 times since October 2007 and could have penned volumes. We started with his out-of-the-blue criticism of the U.S. Africa Command. His harsh remarks about Marine actions at Haditha, Iraq, an incident that left 24 Iraqis and one Marine dead, fell just short of accusing U.S. forces of massacring innocent civilians.

On the lighter side was Murtha’s unabashed love of spending tax payer money. As chairman of the House Appropriations Subcommittee on Defense, Murtha dispensed many a defense dollar, and steered much of it to his economically challenged district. He was the friend of lobbyists and union bosses and established his own military-industrial complex at home in Johnstown – funded courtesy of the taxpayer. He was even ready to take on the controversial Guantanamo Bay detainees – and the jobs and money that would come along with them.

John Murtha leaves behind his wife of 55 years, a daughter, two sons and three grandchildren. He also leaves behind a district. Though the 12th District of Pennsylvania had been moving away from him in recent years, it will certainly feel the loss.

It is deja vous all over again. And again. Last year, we replayed President Bill Clinton’s support of gay men and women in the military, and we are replaying last year’s efforts again this year.

The story of lifting the ban and allowing gay men and women to serve openly in the armed forces is a tale of woe bordering on the absurd. At the same time, both sides’ arguments have merit. This emotionally charged controversy is not without its costs.

The Pentagon soon will make its latest recommendations to Congress.  (How many ways can one slice this thing?) We will hear the most recent set of great ideas as Defense Secretary and Occasional Superhero Robert M. Gates tries to appease the president, the service chiefs and anyone with a dog in this fight.

There has been talk of a phased approach, but it appears Commandant of the Marine Corps Gen. James T. Conway may be driving this train. His direct statement remains unchanged, “Our Marines are currently engaged in two fights, and our focus should not be drawn away from those priorities.” (‘Nuf’ said.) As a follow-on the Marine Corps released, “When the time is right, we have full confidence that we will be asked to provide the best military advice concerning the readiness of the Corps as it relates to this issue.” (Read: Go away. Leave us alone. We’re busy.)

The topic of gays in the military has been in and out of the spotlight since 1993, when males recoiled, fearful of being sexually assaulted by gay males. (Explaining that sexual assault is a crime was lost on this crew.) Seventeen years later, Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell remains a polarizing policy. Phased approach? They’ve had 17 years to work this out.

It may, in fact, be as simple as no one wanting to deal with “it”. As many may have deduced, this is not so different from the desegregation of the Armed Forces after World War II (before landmark civil rights legislation) and allowing girls in the regular force tree house. Were leaders so concerned about assaults on Blacks or women? (Probably not.) Both groups were used (no matter the personal damage) for a greater good.

An interesting piece in the New York Times by one male Army captain telling the story of another (West Pointer) who is being tossed for his sexual preferences is worth the read. We were surprised to see the issue of male-male consensual relations within the Army discussed. Though this story of homosexual betrayal has little bearing on this odd little war, it discusses behaviors and consequences many may not have considered.

There are costs to everyone.

We hear about death. We read of casualties out of Afghanistan and Iraq, be they from combat operations, non-hostile incidents or the suicide bomber du jour.

For the living, frontline deaths can mean irreplaceable loss. Unspeakable grief. The shattered cope in different ways.
One surviving parent has asked to be buried with her son who was killed in Iraq, Nov. 12, 2008.

The Department of Veterans’ Affairs’ answer has been, “No.”

Army Spc. Corey Shea was buried in the Massachusetts National Cemetery, a veterans’ resting place. As with the 130 national cemeteries run by the VA’s National Cemetery Administration, only spouses and children can be buried with the deceased. Denise Anderson, Shea’s mother, has asked for a waiver from the VA. She is not the first: such requests have been made and approved since 2005.

According to Anderson, Shea, her only son, died without a spouse or children. She does not want him to be alone.

According to the VA, Anderson must be at her “time of need” to have her request to be granted. “Time of need” seems to mean, dead. For the 42-year-old Anderson that could be another 40-50 years. Maybe she’ll get past it with time, but there seems to be little comfort in this limbo. The VA noted her son has been buried deeply enough to accommodate her remains, should her request be approved … after she’s, well, dead. Is this a sacred responsibility or bastardized Abbott and Costello routine?

Lawmakers have stepped in as they often do. Massachusetts Rep. Barney Frank and Sen. John Kerry are backing the Corey Shea Act that would allow for biological and adoptive parents to be buried with unmarried veteran sons or daughters who have no minor children. It would cover a servicemember who “… dies as the direct result of hostile action with the enemy, while in combat, while going to or returning from a com bat mission if the cause of death was directly related to hostile action …”

The bill is detailed, so one can only imagine the importance of the documented circumstances of the death. As we will see in a post next week, this combat category “thing” can be an issue, for males as well as females.

The bill covers the 130 cemeteries but excludes Arlington, which falls under the Army.

Veterans groups have not said much on the proposal, though AMVETs is concerned this will negatively impact the benefits of those already permitted. We unclear on their concerns since the remains in question occupy vertical space and not an additional gravesite.

Anderson cannot be alone and a reasonable remedy seems within reach.

Requests for amplifying information on VA decedent benefits from the department’s public affairs office have gone unanswered. One VA official pointed us to the VA Web site. We had already exhausted that vague, marginal resource.

What say you on the “policy,” lawmaker efforts, or the VA’s handling of this request as reported?

Former flags are a valuable commodity in the private sector where they help firms secure contracts and gain access to reluctant commands. Just like those that make their Faustian Pact with K Street, these stars flock to defense firms that can afford to pay them. Some take their star power elsewhere, like military associations.

In a series of reports, USA Today has brought a different type of star jockey to the forefront—the military mentor. The topic has been covered with an air of suspicion, portraying these men and women as overpaid shills.

USA Today may have gotten it wrong. Our sources give military mentors all thumbs up. The term “bargain” was used repeatedly.

The most telling testimonial came from a senior government intelligence official, a glass-half-empty kind of guy. Saying he gushed is mild.
“These guys are the voice of reason,” he said of the mentors work with simulated exercises and those in the field. “They are not restricted by politics. Since they’re not looking at getting promoted like the active duty and reserve generals, they are unencumbered and free to, well, mentor, commanders and their staffs.”

There are advantages to the mentor. “He owns his own life. He’s fresh. He gets sleep. He is not dragging like most of the GO’s,” he said “The mentors are smart. They are great thinkers, and they get it. They don’t have to worry about Congress. They tell it like it is, and their views and knowledge are relevant.” he explained.

Mentors go to combat zones. One former provincial reconstruction team commander knew several in 2004 Afghanistan. “These guys came into help CJTF-76 in Kabul and other general officer leadership,” he said. “Mentors like Marine Lt. Gen. Buck Bedard, Army Gen. Gary Luck and others did not hesitate to place themselves in harm’s way,” he recalled. “They brought a clean perspective.” When asked about time out of uniform being a concern, he responded, “War is war, and basic fundamentals still apply. These guys were out in the field looking at what was going on. They didn’t t have to do that, but they did. They’re a bargain, and certainly better than another RAND report.”

And those shilling concerns? “Not once have I observed a mentor pushing a product or a company. The mentors, regardless of service, that I’ve seen have been fantastic,” said our intel official.

Are these the only people in favor of mentors?

In an attempt to remind the world (and itself) of its martial might, Cuba recently conducted military exercises.

The three-day event encompassed much of the island nation and included thousands of its population. The Cuban government stated the exercises were aimed against a possible U.S. military invasion.

With relations between the two nations better than they have been in some time, targeting an aggressive northern neighbor seems unlikely. The U.S. has relaxed restrictions on travel and finances and a further easing of such policies is predicted.

There is speculation the exercises targeted the Cuban population, assuring them the nation’s military is robust enough to handle foreign intruders or an uprising within its own borders. Cuban President Raul Castro, brother to his famous predecessor and revolutionary leader Fidel, had been defense minister until he assumed control of the nation in 2008. Raul is credited with transforming a military that no longer had the monetary backing of the defunct Soviet Union. No money meant no gear and no forces (that once made their own forays into Africa). His efforts did not always meet Fidel’s approval.

Since the mid-1990s the Cuban military has reportedly taken over 60 percent of the economy. (Yeah, they are communists, and it is a small country.) A la Tony Soprano, the Cuban military runs most of the island’s tourism, plus its sugar industry. It also reportedly runs construction firms and import-export businesses. (No word on sanitation.)

In 2003 the University of Miami reported that the Cuban military‘s “diverse business ventures” hauled in about $1 billion a year. If accurate, that is astounding.

Call it the clichéd ‘lemons to lemonade’ thing, but if Cuba can do it, one would think the U.S. could use a similar model possibly to energize the flaccid employment programs the Veterans Affairs guys like to tout. Keeping free enterprise alive and with no new government programs, it seems the VA (and other) job efforts could be channeled into money-making ventures, instead of strong-arming vets into entry-level jobs for which they are over-qualified. Maybe there is something to be learned from our free-wheeling, pre-1960 Chevy driving neighbors just off our shore.

VA secretary Eric Shinseki recently announced his plan to end homelessness among veterans.

Speaking at the VA National Summit Ending Homelessness Among Veterans, the former Army chief of staff and Vietnam veteran stated, “No one who has served this nation as veterans should ever have to be living on the streets.” In what he envisions as a five-year plan, Shinseki explained the VA would work with the U.S. departments of Education, Labor, Health and Human Services plus the Small Business Administration. All would collaborate with community organizations and first responders to tackle the homeless epidemic.

Noble, but can the VA grasp the needs of the general veteran population? It already has proved deficient in tracking the illusive homelessus veteranus, and in determining if the species should be a priority.

It seems from the data available, veteran homelessness should not be a VA priority. As we recounted in Fruit of the Poisoned Tree, the VA estimates homeless veterans at 131,000, down from the 199,000 it reported in 2005. The VA gets it numbers from the frontline shelters: if a guy says he’s a vet at the shelter’s evening bed count, then he is reported as a veteran. VA officials have told us they verify these numbers, but we’re not so sure.

If we look at the 131,000 as a part of the 24 million veteran population in this country we see it amounts to just one half of one percent of the whole. Shinseki has pledged more than $3 billion (of a requested 2010 budget of $113 billion) to help one-half of one percent. Is this a Faustian Pact? Or is this the VA’s highway to hell?

Given the partnering organizations (and did we mention the millions going to grant programs to help the frontline community organizations), this seems like a scheme to launder tax payer dollars into the hands of the professional do-gooder, while doing nothing to significantly benefit the veterans.

“We must offer education and jobs, treat depression and fight substance abuse, prevent suicides and provide safe housing,” he told the gathering. (A chicken in every pot!)

We wonder what percent of veterans out there have been turned away from vocational rehabilitation programs because they had an advanced degree or “appeared” to have the skills necessary for an entry-level position. (The VA doesn’t have to help a vet find a great job. Depending on the counselor, pushing a vet into an entry-level position may check the block, though now the buzz phrase seems to be “appropriate employment.”)

Shinseki also wants to help veterans through enhanced business opportunities, and touts government contract set asides for disabled veterans. Those deals are unlikely unless a veteran packs up his or her disability certificate and pimps himself out to some seedy larger entity. The alternative may be kissing that Shinseki-endorsed government handout good-bye.

And those 40,000 vets he mentioned who leave prison each year? They are going to get help too. (Thank God! That’s in addition to the VA’s former Incarcerated Veterans program. The VA recently changed the that catchy title to “Health Care for Reentry Veterans.” It appears the VA may be branding its homeless cache of programs. You can never do too much for our vets behind bars.) My cousin is an Army veteran. He later robbed too many banks and murdered two people. He is in prison. Though he is not getting out any time soon, what benefits should your tax dollars afford him? Gee, we’d hate to see anything bad like homelessness happen to him upon release.

But it’s $3 billion to the spectral homeless vets. Take a look at how the VA plans to allocate its 2010 budget.

Our guess is the remaining 99.5 percent should gear up for its Bonus March in Anacostia.

During my first year at the Naval Academy, I was fortunate enough to be in a senior-level English class. It was Shakespeare. Many have borrowed from him, and the military has lifted its share of passages.

One well-known speech by King Henry V in the play that bears his name may be over used, and its fame further enhanced by its ties to World War II. Despite its clichéd status, “Band of Brothers” applies to what had once been a bitter, nearly defeated ragtag group of misfits. (My fellow misfits may disagree with my characterization.)

My reference to a kinship with this group answers the question left open in the last post about this 25th reunion: Event experience beat out event prep. My money had been on the prep (in many ways), and I was wrong. This small band of teens from Second Company had lost touch in many ways long before graduation. The challenges the group faced had started as external issues, but became internal demons that remained with some longer than others.

Fast forward to 25 years to a hotel in Annapolis, Md. Hundreds of people filled a darkened reception, but somehow we found each other, and only this band of brothers mattered. The vibe was that of early Plebe Summer; the carnage of Fort Apache Annapolis was nowhere to be seen. I am unsure if we were wiser, but it did not matter. My boys—my brothers—were as beautiful and full of optimism as they has been that summer in 1980. They basked in the glow of one another, a reflection of pride and maybe some relief tossed in. We were together to be, yes, just to be as it turned out. We remained together the weekend. One brother created an event just for the brethren of Company Two. (Dive bars were created by God.)

I’d like to say the four-inch heels made the difference. They did not. I could have worn burlap and flip-flops, but the prep was worth the effort. It was my ode to my band of brothers, my way of saying, “You are more important to me than you may ever know.”

But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen [worldwide] 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 [Reunion] day.

Amid the tension over Afghanistan and in the background of the latest bombings in Iraq, some may remember one of the most tragic events in Marine Corps if not U.S. military history. As many wonder what direction U.S. military policy soon might take, some may be reminded of dark days in Beirut, Lebanon.

Oct. 23 marked the 26th anniversary of the truck bomb that killed 241 servicemembers, (most almost instantly) annihilated an awkward mission, and sent the entire Marine Corps and U.S. policymakers reeling from the aftershocks.

We were at the Naval Academy at the time, and not much news penetrates the cone of silence. But word spread quickly of the incident, and even those of us consumed by studies knew this was big. Really big.

A year later I was at the memorial service near Camp Lejeune, N.C. The devastation was apparent. It was carnage of another sort. A friend pointed out one of the Marine commanders from Beirut. He was a shell of a man, a walking corpse appearing consumed by the fate that had befallen his men. The bombing of the Marine’s airport compound resulted in the largest loss of Marine life since the landings at Iwo Jima. Beirut was now this man’s legacy. Not really how one plans to end a Marine Corps career.

The history of this tiny military presence started simply, but grew complex against a background of the political and religious unrest. Policies were cobbled together in an attempt to stabilize the region, but a timeline written by famed Marine Corps chief historian Ben Frank, shows a decent into chaos.

In 1982, Israel invaded Lebanon to push back invading Palestinian Liberation Organization forces and probably Syrian fighters. The PLO wanted international assurances it could pull out safely. A multinational force was formed, including 800 Marines from the 32nd Marine Amphibious Unit. By Sept. 10, the PLO had moved out and the Marines ordered home. But not so fast—the Lebanese president–elect was assassinated soon after plunging the nation further into turmoil. The Marines would stay, though units would rotate over the next year. The Marines were armed and armored, despite critical reports to the contrary following the blast.

A large car bomb exploded April 18, 1983, at U.S. embassy in Beirut killing 61. Islamic fundamentalists claimed responsibility as they had for other incursions. The Marines came under attack at their airport base many times during this period. Men were killed. They were wounded in the fighting. During much of Sept. 1983, U.S. Navy ships provided naval gunfire support to the Marines.

The situation was escalating. A Sept. 26 ceasefire was anything but, and Marines remained in the line of fire. All reached a crescendo shortly after 6 a.m. Oct. 23 when the truck no one could stop detonated 12,000 pounds of explosives leveling the building housing 300 or so Marines. Fighting continued until the Marines redeployed Feb. 26, 1984. The mission essentially was abandoned.

Leaders over the years have pointed to Beirut as changing their views on how to fight an irregular war. Twenty-six years later does it impact Afghanistan? Iraq? Do they teach Beirut? It is classic; it is epic on many levels.

Can its value be over-estimated?

Military and veterans affairs leaders had yet another chance to don the burlap sack in a public display of faux (and unnecessary) contrition over military and veteran healthcare.

The 2009 Defense Forum, jointly sponsored by the Military Officers’ Association (MOAA) and the U.S. Naval Institute, consistently, a top-notch event, provide the stage upon which guests could display their inner conflict. At one moment, leaders might crow about what strides have been made on behalf of combat-injured veterans. The next, they stand with hands folded, solemnly looking down nodding as vitriolic accusations are hurled their way.

The ballroom at the Hilton Mark Center, Alexandria, Va., was filled with an estimated 500 in attendance for a day entitled “Coping with Unseen Injuries from Battlefield to Homefront.” Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Adm. Mike Mullen kicked things off, taking time out to address the gathering. He expressed frustration that DoD and the VA are not doing enough in the mental health arena. This seems to be a recurring theme. No one we’ve heard or read, including Ol’ Mike, will talk about this as a decades-old deficiency (and one that has greatly improved). An accurate treatment of the topic would lend credibility to a subject that seems more myth than fact.

Mullen’s was a burlap moment. While independent agencies have rated the VA medical system as one of the best managed-care systems in the nation, and the standards of military medicine are high, Mullen fed into the claims of a vocal minority—accurate or otherwise.

Through the course of the day, some in the audience told their stories. As gut-wrenching as they were, these sad, and often uplifting, vignettes seemed they might be exceptions to the thousands who go through the disability evaluation system each year. (We are reasonably sure more noncombat conditions are medically processed from the ranks than those from the battlefield. No one talked about them a decade ago, and they certainly seem of little interest now.)

Regardless, leaders seem reluctant to tout the standards of care of the VA and DoD, so they don burlap, cop to shooting Kennedy and admit they are the reason military medicine is the deplorable mess it is. (It’s not)

(We also like to call this the Kiley Factor after former Army Surgeon General Lt. Gen. Kevin C. Kiley who stood firm in his defense of the Army in the aftermath of Walter Reed revelations. You may recall, Kiley’s approach proved disastrous. We directly link his public execution with the fear displayed by the current crop of public officials.)

On a bright note, the VA’s assistant secretary for public and intergovernmental affairs, Tammy Duckworth, recounts the good work done by the VA. Sadly she may be in the position to do so because of her injuries sustained as a Blackhawk pilot in Iraq that resulted in the loss of her legs. You go, Tammy.

We hope for the day the frightened, clinging to their star status, will stand unafraid, shed their burlap, and cease the insincere apologies and faux outrage. Maybe then false issues will fade and true challenges will move to the forefront.