Sunday, June 14, 2009
Introspection
I stood in a circle with all my Soldiers during PT. In between push ups, flutter kicks and lunges, I was able to remove myself from the exertion and survey the surroundings and my Soldiers. We stood amidst an open baseball field. The fields to the left formed a wide stripe of bright green grass. Above this line, there was another stripe. This of a brighter green, formed by the tree line. Moving higher, the next strip was a brilliant, light blue, interspersed with clouds. Along a road near by, Soldiers moved past, spanning the spectrum of walking and sprinting.
But more than the scenery, I looked at my Soldiers. Many I liked and respected. Some I knew well. Some I wished I could know better, but professionalism and my rank as an officer precluded a closer friendship. Some I did not know at all as they had only just arrived at my platoon. And I wondered. I wondered if they would all make it back from Afghanistan alive. It was a specter that appeared to me often. Rarely during the light of day, when I was too busy for such introspection. But often in the evenings, when I was unable to hide among tasks and human interaction, when, after I had spent my evening reading of a theoretical Afghanistan, I thought of Afghanistan as we would meet it. And wondered if we would return unaltered from the meeting.
But more than the scenery, I looked at my Soldiers. Many I liked and respected. Some I knew well. Some I wished I could know better, but professionalism and my rank as an officer precluded a closer friendship. Some I did not know at all as they had only just arrived at my platoon. And I wondered. I wondered if they would all make it back from Afghanistan alive. It was a specter that appeared to me often. Rarely during the light of day, when I was too busy for such introspection. But often in the evenings, when I was unable to hide among tasks and human interaction, when, after I had spent my evening reading of a theoretical Afghanistan, I thought of Afghanistan as we would meet it. And wondered if we would return unaltered from the meeting.
How I Got Here
“Well LT Merkel, today is the last day you’ll be PTing with us. You’re going to the SIGINT platoon today.” This was exactly what I’d wanted, but thought I would never receive. This was exactly what made me anxious and nervous with its unending challenges and responsibilities.
I would have been more anxious, but I didn’t have time to be. Everything happened too fast. After completing PT with the Brigade intelligence section, I rushed home for a shower and breakfast and returned to the brigade where I was quickly whisked off down to the Military Intelligence Company of the brigade Special Troops Battalion.
Every new LT alternating dreads and longs to meet his or her first platoon, but I almost felt as though I was robbed of the range of emotions I should have experienced. There was no “official platoon meeting” where the platoon, in all their vast, deployed experience surveys the new and expectedly-clueless LT and make their snap judgments about the leader that has been forced upon them for the foreseeable future. It was not as intimidating as I had expected. When my sponsor led me into what was to become my office, there were only 2 Soldiers there.
I later learned that while my platoon was supposed to have around 20 Soldiers, I was down to 8, myself included. My unit had returned from a year in Iraq only a few months prior and in the year long break between deployments, the first few months are characterized by people getting out of the Army, leaving for new assignments or attending necessary training thus the absence of both my assigned Soldiers and the short numbers in general.
I briefly met the MICO Commander, my new boss. He was a tall, friendly man, but was hard to read. He promised to counsel me soon in the future, in a meeting where we would discuss his expectations of me. I would also meet one of my fellow PL’s and the 1SG. The 1SG, a person often known for a rough demeanor and fixation on standards, surprised me by emphasizing that our company operated as a family, intent on helping one another accomplish the mission at hand.
Being a platoon leaders shares many commonalities with being a parent – I think – not that I’ve ever been a parent. My relationship with my Soldiers was a balancing act, and one I was ever aware of as an inexperienced PL. It needed to be ever clear that I was the officer, the leader and would thus be treated with respect. I could not be friends with my Soldiers, however I might want to be. But it was also my job to care for my Soldiers, to know them, their problems, their strengths and weaknesses, their families, without becoming overly familiar with them. Based on my own leadership style and the general milieu of the company, I was fairly friendly towards my Soldiers, I joked around with them, as did other leaders in the company. But I was also cognizant of the need for some professional distance. I was never certain if I was achieving the right balance.
I would have been more anxious, but I didn’t have time to be. Everything happened too fast. After completing PT with the Brigade intelligence section, I rushed home for a shower and breakfast and returned to the brigade where I was quickly whisked off down to the Military Intelligence Company of the brigade Special Troops Battalion.
Every new LT alternating dreads and longs to meet his or her first platoon, but I almost felt as though I was robbed of the range of emotions I should have experienced. There was no “official platoon meeting” where the platoon, in all their vast, deployed experience surveys the new and expectedly-clueless LT and make their snap judgments about the leader that has been forced upon them for the foreseeable future. It was not as intimidating as I had expected. When my sponsor led me into what was to become my office, there were only 2 Soldiers there.
I later learned that while my platoon was supposed to have around 20 Soldiers, I was down to 8, myself included. My unit had returned from a year in Iraq only a few months prior and in the year long break between deployments, the first few months are characterized by people getting out of the Army, leaving for new assignments or attending necessary training thus the absence of both my assigned Soldiers and the short numbers in general.
I briefly met the MICO Commander, my new boss. He was a tall, friendly man, but was hard to read. He promised to counsel me soon in the future, in a meeting where we would discuss his expectations of me. I would also meet one of my fellow PL’s and the 1SG. The 1SG, a person often known for a rough demeanor and fixation on standards, surprised me by emphasizing that our company operated as a family, intent on helping one another accomplish the mission at hand.
Being a platoon leaders shares many commonalities with being a parent – I think – not that I’ve ever been a parent. My relationship with my Soldiers was a balancing act, and one I was ever aware of as an inexperienced PL. It needed to be ever clear that I was the officer, the leader and would thus be treated with respect. I could not be friends with my Soldiers, however I might want to be. But it was also my job to care for my Soldiers, to know them, their problems, their strengths and weaknesses, their families, without becoming overly familiar with them. Based on my own leadership style and the general milieu of the company, I was fairly friendly towards my Soldiers, I joked around with them, as did other leaders in the company. But I was also cognizant of the need for some professional distance. I was never certain if I was achieving the right balance.
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