Playing for Keeps

| March 14, 2014

TSO wrote a short article the other day that got me to thinking.  And when that happens, regular readers know I sometimes tend to wander off the beaten path a bit.

Yeah, you’re right – your luck ran out.  I’m about to go on another walkabout.  (smile)

But this time, it’s not about music.

. . .

The statement that piqued my interest was from this article TSO posted a few days ago.  It was his statement that

The best sleep I’ve had since coming home from A-Stan was when I was back there as a reporter. And my stress level over there was significantly less than it is here at home.

For the most part – yeah, pretty much the same here.  I haven’t been back to either Iraq or Afghanistan.  But most of the time, I slept like a baby while deployed – better than while here in the US, I think.  Except for the few nervous/scary moments, work-related stress was pretty damn easily handled.

I’m guessing I’m not alone.  In fact, I’m guessing many if not most people who’ve deployed to a shooting war probably feel similarly.

As Mark noted, that’s counterintuitive as hell.  Why, then, is it the case?

I dunno, really.  But I can hazard a guess.

Standard disclaimer:  I’m not a shrink, so I might be way off base in what follows.  But it makes sense to me.

I’m also writing this from a soldier’s perspective.  I presume things are much the same for those deployed at sea, or with the Air Force.  But I can’t really speak for them.

Deployment:  Life Reduced to Essentials

As Mark noted – life while deployed is life reduced to the basics.  I think that’s one reason why many of us miss it.

Our lives are full of “stuff” – much of it self-generated.  All of it creates demand on your time and energy.

There’s almost always more to do than there is time.  Balancing all of that imposes complexity – and stress.

And, frankly, much of what we have in our lives is not strictly necessary.  Seriously:  in the great scheme of things, does it really matter that much if the car is shiny, or if the lawn is freshly-mowed and edged?  Or where you’re going or what you’re making for dinner?  Or if you’re going to buy groceries today?  Does anyone’s life depend on the answer to those questions?

In a combat zone, things are different – and simpler.  You have what you have – and not a bunch of extraneous stuff distracting you.  Many decisions are made for you.  In general, the “small stuff” just isn’t there.  You worry about really two things:  doing your assigned job, and staying alive.

If you’re a leader, you have a couple of other concerns.  One is keeping track of your people.  The second is keeping them sharp, on their toes, and doing their jobs.

That’s about it.

Further:  unlike many civilian jobs, what you’re doing is generally well-defined (albeit sometimes a head-scratcher).  And agree or not, the intent is usually clear enough that you can fill in the missing gaps.

The essential things you don’t do yourself are done for you – generally, quite reliably.  And when you get right down to it, there just isn’t all that much left that’s truly essential.

Bottom line:  life is both fairly simple and fairly binary.   BS games and nonessential things are relatively few and far between.  So, it’s easy to focus on what’s important.

Civilian life often just isn’t like that.

High-Stakes Gambling – For Body and Soul

I’ll say this up-front:  no human experience really compares to being deployed to combat.  Going to a place where you know there’s someone else out there who wants to kill you – and who will, given the chance – is simply very different than anything you’re likely to experience anywhere else.  That part’s true whether or not you actually get shot at.  LE officers engaged in a “bust” are perhaps the only ones I can think of that might experience anything close.

Even then, there’s a second factor:  nothing compares to getting shot at.  Until that happens – either by direct fire or indirect (mortars, rockets, artillery) – “buying the farm” is merely a theoretical concept.  Once that happens the first time, whether or not anyone is hit . . . you know damn well now it’s real.

That experience is truly make or break.  Most handle it.  A few can’t, and break under the stress.

In a way, being deployed to a bona fide combat zone (that is, one where there’s actual hostilities – even if sporadic) is gambling for the ultimate stakes.  It’s the ultimate “adrenalin rush”.  It brings one the highest highs I can think of- if not the highest – and can bring the lowest lows known.

It’s the ultimate self-test as well.  Even if no one else sees, you can’t hide from yourself.  You know if you “measured up” or not.  And that tells you a lot about whether you will in the future.

I believe that adrenalin “roller-coaster-ride” – bored out of your skull for the most part, punctuated by periods of sheer crazy excitement/terror – is a huge part of the reason we miss being deployed sometimes after we return.  People do dangerous, high-risk stuff “for thrills” all the time.  What’s more dangerous – and more compelling – than going “mano-a-mano” with literally your life on the line?

With one possible exception, the most intense moment in life you’ll ever know is that moment you realize you might not see another sunrise.  The possible exception?  When you’ve made it through a crisis and realize – thankfully – that you will indeed live to see another day.

It’s not life in the “civilized world”.  Part of us craves order and civilization.  But I think there’s a part in each of us that secretly craves a disorderly struggle, too.

In short:  it’s simultaneously incredibly thrilling and terrifying.  And it’s addictive as hell.

War Is Terrible . . . and Seductive

Lee said it best:  “It is well that war is so terrible.  Otherwise, we would grow too fond of it.”  God help me, but I indeed understand exactly what he meant.

War is indeed a terrible thing.  It’s destructive.  Things get broken – many things.  Land is spoiled, sometimes for years.  People are injured and maimed; all too many die.  The waste and suffering is immense.

And yet . . . war has its own compelling attractiveness.  War may indeed be hell – but dear Lord, at times it’s a magnificently beautiful hell.

Aircraft popping flares.  Tracer rounds at night.  The nighttime flashes of artillery you can barely hear backlighting structures and landmarks.  The zooming whoosh of an incoming rocket.  The burned-but-not-quite smell of jet or turbine exhaust.  Hearing – and feeling – a close explosion.  The click-clack of a round being chambered.

Yeah, they’re all scary things.  And they’re all simultaneously and eerily beautiful, too.

There’s an incredibly seductive attraction in being part of a massive, effective, destructive “green machine”.  The power of the equipment and armaments used – and the people wielding them – is simply amazing.  It has to be seen to be believed.

Whether you’re the one in charge or simply a role-player, you feel that power – and that incredible attraction.

There’s also another beauty – an internal, and very human one.  For a time, you’re truly an integral part of something larger than yourself.  Very literally, you’re engaged in a life-and-death struggle on behalf of your nation with your brothers- and sisters-in-arms.

That experience itself is amazingly fulfilling and rewarding.  Couple that with the seductive beauty of war and well, yeah.

Lee was right.

. . .

Am I glad I’m back in the US now, and no longer deployed?  Yes.  Every day I’m thankful for that.  And yet . . . .

Honestly:  yes, fairly often I miss being deployed.  And I think I likely always will.

Playing for keeps is damned addictive.

 

Thanks for listening.  Hope you weren’t bored.

Category: Military issues, Veterans Issues, Who knows

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Thegoat

It’s Maslows hierarchy of needs. When you are there there is less stuff!

David

Only been shot at as a civilian so will take a back seat to those who have seen the elephant. But always remember a story one of my drills told in basic – the reason why he loved jumping: He said when he jumped, there was a moment right after the ripcord was pulled, whether HALO or static line, when the chute had not opened, and he KNEW right then that he was going to die. Then the canopy opened and he said that instant of pure terror turned into pure joy… literally better than sex. Never experienced it but he looked downright mystical about it.

Pinto Nag

“Only been shot at as a civilian…”

Only?? Damn, Dude.

Jacobite

I was shot at a couple times as a kid growing up on the ‘wrong’ side of town. The ‘being shot at’ part of being in Iraq was the least of my worries while there, lol.

Pinto Nag

I’ve never been shot at. I’ve had a gun pointed at me one time. As much as I love guns and shooting, I discovered that the front end of a gun is as ugly as a dog’s butt when it’s pointed at you. And once was more than enough, thank you very much.

David

I was robbed once, too, by a guy who pointed a .45 at me…. that damn hole was HUGE. Seemed much scarier two feet away than the other ones seemed actually firing. Let’s just say “youthful indiscretions” and that I was probably mostly to blame. And foolishly thought “separated” was meant as a legal, not a geographical, term.

Combat Historian

“That experience is truly make or break. Most handle it. A few can’t, and break under the stress.”

A few months before I arrived in-country, one of the Army historians attached to a division was at a FOB and broke down. Started firing his M9 without any authorization or cause because he imagined the bad guys had gotten in the wire. He was gang-tackled and eventually evacuated out of the country for further observation/treatment…

You never know what serving in a combat zone will do to you unless you’ve been there and done that…

Twist

I do not miss the blood, calling in a 9 line, or halling ass in my Stryker to the CSH. It is imposible to explane what is happening in your mind and to your body when bullets are flying to someone who has never experienced it. It is an amazing thing moving towards the gunfire and knowing that your Soldiers are right there with you. While moving forward I always said a quick prayer in case I would be meeting Him soon.

Jacobite

Not bored at all brother, you hit the nail on the head. I actually craved the experience for a few years after coming home, and yep, I still miss it to a lesser degree to this day.

Except for certain situations and occasional missions that kept us out on longer hours, life for us was sunup to sundown, and measured daily by pretty natural rhythms rather than the overload of artificial rhythms we assault ourselves with here at home.

And never underestimate the enjoyability of being surrounded by like minded individuals that you don’t have to explain your world view to daily. Here at home? Not so much.

Twist

When I was younger I compared not having been in combat as an athelete training and not being able to play in the big game. Once I was in my first fire fight I realised “wow this game sure sucks:.

Jacobite

“wow this game sure sucks:.”

+1 right there, lol.

Sucks or not, it’s a ‘high’ that’s damned hard to replicate doing anything else.

Twist

I agree. I haven’t found the rush that I did then.

Martinjmpr

My own war experiences were pretty tame – the only time I was ever shot at was in Haiti, which didn’t even count as a “war” according to the Army – but I would add that there is another, perhaps darker, attraction to deploying in a war zone.

Virtually all of us live in a world that is bound up by rules, laws, customs, etc. Obviously, these are neccessary and ultimately they keep us safe, secure and happy.

But in a combat zone, once you get outside the wire, most of the normal rules of civilized conduct are suspended (not because they don’t exist, but because there’s nobody there to enforce them.)

A soldier in a combat zone is answerable ONLY to his own chain-of-command, and nobody else. And as far as rules, there is only The Mission: Everything else is secondary.

This can be a heady, intoxicating thing. Of course, it can be too tempting for some soldiers, which is why leaders need to keep control of their men, to rein in the chance that they’ll go rogue.

A buddy of mine in Haiti summed it up best when he quoted a line from the movie “Full Metal Jacket”:

“We are Jolly Green Giants, walking the earth, with guns.”

Ex-PH2©

‘attractive and seductive’ – that and the adrenaline rush you get in a firefight, the heigtened senses, the hyperalertness that has your spidey senses tingling.

When all that goes away, you miss it because it’s burned into your brain with fire and the smell of gunpowder.

ArmyATC

Hondo, Thank you. You’ve said it better than I ever could. Even though my deployment (OIF II) left me wheelchair bound, I still miss it damned near every day. People would ask me why, my wife would ask. I could never properly explain it to them. They looked at me like I’d lost my mind. Others like I was some war mongering baby killer.

Sparks

“Am I glad I’m back in the US now, and no longer deployed? Yes. Every day I’m thankful for that. And yet . . . .

Honestly: yes, fairly often I miss being deployed. And I think I likely always will.

Playing for keeps is damned addictive.”

Hondo, thank you for this thread and those words. I “feel” every word you wrote from the inside of me out. I wish I could express my thoughts and feelings as well as you but I can’t. So I will let your words stand and I will save them for anyone who every wants to attempt to “understand”.

Thank you again.

SJ

Gee, Mister Hondo. You use your tongue purdier than a twenty dollar whore. (HT Blazing Saddles and someone here that used this last week).

Excellent prose. I’ve been looked at strange when I said Vietnam was my best Army tour. Doing what we were trained to do; surrounded by professional 82nd/101st ABN troopers; minimal chicken shit rock painting.

Pave Low John

The part I miss about being deployed that sense of belonging you feel when you’re part of a motivated, highly trained group of type-A personalities. You truly feel like you’re doing something important with a group of your best friends.

One of my friends said it best: All you talk about when you’re deployed is all the stuff you’re going to do when you get back home. But when you get back home, all you can think about is what is happening back in (Anbar, Kandahar, wherever…) and wondering when, or if, you’ll ever go back…

NHSparky

Don’t miss the penny-ante BS, but some of my best memories are of times out on Westpac, and not just in Thailand/PI/etc.

NAVCWORet

As a Sailor, I’ve been on many deployments, virtually all from the safety of a few miles out to sea. Of my 30 years in service, my two tours “boots-on-ground” in Iraq were the best. Never had to leave the wire, never took direct fire (was mortared and rocketed a few times at VBC and Mosul), never kicked any doors in. It’s a rush impossible to duplicate in the routine of home or even firing Tomahawks from a ship (did DESERT FOX in 1998). Carrying a weapon all day, every day, even though I never had to fire it, brought the gravity home as to the potential. Tried to talk my wife into letting me volunteer for a tour in AFG “to help my career” but she wasn’t having any of it. Given the chance, I’d still go, even though I’ve retired.

HS Sophomore

I thought I’d ask; to any of the combat arms personnel on this blog, have you ever seen someone actually snap in combat like some soldiers on the D-Day beaches did? Like, panic and just lock up, or run around like chicken with head cut off, etc.? If this is a question like “Did you ever kill anyone” that is undeniably stupid and causes vets pain to recall, please move along and pardon me, or if this did happen and ended badly, I have no desire to see any overly painful memories dredged up. I merely ask because I’m curious about how human minds perform under that kind of pressure.

Jacobite

I wasn’t a door kicker, but our medium trans unit was a theater asset on loan to the Multi National Division. We worked with the DOD and Ahmed Chalabi’s private army for the first 3 months ferrying around the FIF troops and their spec ops handlers on their f*&ked up missions, and transported tons of confiscated weapons caches, that was followed by running up and down the MSRs daily for the remainder of our tour, transporting supplies, materials, and occasionally payroll, for the Poles and the Spaniards.

While not really fullfilling an infantry role, we got pretty close to it a few times, and the pressure of hours of waiting to be blown up while on the road did get to a few people. Our company posted something north of 1.3 million convoy miles while we were there, and 3 of our folks did ‘blink’ so to speak, 3 out of 142, not to bad if you ask me. Out of respect for them as brothers in arms I won’t discuss how they manifested, but they were all shipped home.

As near as I can remember, it was the stress concerning the constant threat that broke those 3 down. I relaxed into the job pretty quick, and distracted myself by keeping busy taking care of my people and addressing their problems, and appriciating the fact that I was in a historic part of the world I would likely never visit again. I never really felt the stress build up dangerously even when there was metal flying, but I watched it happen to plenty of people. Most were able to defuse quickly enough in our down time.

I think we humans are amazing in our capacity to adapt when the situation demands it.

HS Sophomore

Thanks; I would agree to that last bit to a T.

Common Sense

Thanks for the insight, very interesting. I’d imagine that there’s also a high in working so closely with others, depending on them for your life, the brotherhood thing. I know that’s hard to find in every day life.

I think there’s also an addiction to serving, knowing that you’re helping others and that the work you do is important.

I’ve done a wide variety of IT projects but the ones like working at a bone and joint transplant facility was far more meaningful than something like my current job working with classified ads. I knew that the work I was doing contributed to a real change in someone’s life. Classified ads, not so much.

Janaburg

Damn Honda, you nailed it. The hyper awareness high is something I miss everyday.

Luck in Battle.

tm

Thanks Hondo for writing this, and thanks to those who are providing their own insights. No, I won’t truly understand, but at least I hope not to look at a veteran funny if they say they miss being deployed.

@Common Sense: Right on. At least you managed to do work on something truly meaningful in IT. Me, I’ve just been a cog in some corporate machine or another.