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Heroism is blood and ink. When I read J.D. Waghelstein’s ‘Ruminations of a Pachyderm” tucked into the recesses of grainy back-pages in the Spring 2006 edition of Military Review, I read art. When I read his article, the same thump, thump, thump in my chest beat stronger and truer. When I read his call to ask,
“who pays the bills and who does most of the bleeding”
in conflict, my inmost being says “yes! and “amen!” This is what professional writing can do. It is an art that connects with the warrior and calls others to join the fight for the author’s cause.
Unfortunately, Col. Waghelstein and his work are harder to find than they should be. However, may the discerning reader take heed: the gold is worth the mining. The reinvigoration of Army professional writing through the Harding Project is a bright spot and a chance to resurface articles like those from “Wags”—as he is affectionately referred to in his articles—and others who have paid in blood to tell their stories. What these men and women need is a demand signal. You can create this demand; just look on your local Army library’s card catalog, call them, google them: more pings on these websites and more engagement will directly correlate to a more rapid uncovering and digitization of these imminently valuable works.
As these works begin to surface, others remain to be uncovered. However, if you find a lump of coal, keep digging. Many articles in Military Review, the branch magazines, or others can be dry, contrived, or irrelevant. However, we have the luxury of simply scrolling past these with a flick of the thumb. Wags gives a similar admonition to his reader: military professional writing will get it wrong but that’s okay. Without getting it wrong sometimes, we default to getting it wrong all the time. In a critique of other professional writing that he disagreed with, Waghelstein argues,“…the entrenched view that countering insurgencies was a ‘silly distraction from what real armies did’ persisted in the face of changing world circumstances.…Professional journals, particularly of the airpower and Air-Land Battle variety, sang paeans to ‘the way of the future’ and declared that ‘this is the way wars are supposed to be fought’” (also from that dusty tome from Military Review, ‘06). Some may disagree with him but this public, courageous, peer-enriching disagreement is also a vital function of professional writing.
As a profession, the military has the responsibility to police its own, to continuously improve its position and to adapt. This occurs, mostly, at the individual level “the battle buddy” system of inculturation. When a trusted peer or superior makes spot corrections and engages in honest conversations that build their fellow soldiers up, they strengthen the profession. To reach beyond the individual soldier, mass media is “best weapon for the target.” To this end, professional journals like the branch magazines, Military Review, and paramilitary publishers (like From the Green Notebook) provide a point of reference and artifact which enable these battle buddy conversations to take place. The goal of professional writing is not homogeneity of viewpoint but homogeneity of enrichment. When articles are published in an accessible way and discussed among peers in a forum that invites well-ordered debate, progress is nearly inevitable.
In conclusion, I would offer you a parting quote from Col (R) Waghelstein:
“But what time has also shown is that…changes, as sweeping and radical as they were regarded at the time, were not nearly substantial enough to allow us to defeat our new enemies quickly. As a consequence, confronted by continuing setbacks on the battlefield that appear to derive in part from fielding midgrade leaders with the wrong educational preparation, the military’s leadership should not be shocked or surprised when Congress decides to take matters into its own hands and mandate by law the necessary adjustments…”
Echoing his sentiment, the Army—we—will change for the better, or it—we—will be told to change by those who may have never wielded the sword. Generate art from your soul that will enrich and save the lives of other soldiers, that will connect with them on a guttural level. These catalyst conversations drive the Army profession to grow into the Army it needs to be. Soak up the heroism that other’s have bottled.
Spill your ink upon the pages of a military journal, so that your battle buddies won’t spill their blood when your knowledge would save them.
I finally stopped harassing my friends in Leavenworth about the dust gathering on shelves of the Center for Army Lessons Learned