Princes of War (44 page)

Authors: Claude Schmid

Transcending questions existed. And to Wynn the most important one was this: why was each Wolfhound here? Their actions gave the answer. Whether in garrison in a loose formation of laughing and strutting soldiers, or when working and fighting together, each willingly put his body and life at risk. That willingness to serve was an expression of the sinew of their experience and ambition. Each man wanted it. It was a volunteer Army. Had a man not wanted it, he wouldn’t be here. The most common motivation: respect. Each of them wanted respect. Not only the respect of outsiders, or the respect of the unit. But the strongest and most durable form of respect: self-respect. Earning respect before a personal altar of courage was what made the whole thing work. To each man, more than big and heavy words like democracy, or nation-building, it boiled down to a simple thing, a far more elementary emotion: an affirmation of courage. In their minds, the men were proud that no one could say that when the call came, they were wanting. The Wolfhounds were not wanting. They were here. Them, not others. This was stuff that built a strong masculine bond. And yet it was an ultimate assertion of individualism. Embracing the warrior brotherhood brought the two-component ingredient together and made the whole stronger.

He moved away from the wall and started ambling back to his trailer. The night sky was mostly clear. Thousands of stars threw a cascade of light across the immensity of space and a blue band of clouds hung low on the edge of the horizon. As he walked, Wynn saw the cloud band edge skyward. Perhaps a storm was building out there, or perhaps an incomprehensible power silently pulled a heavy blanket over a sinful world.

At 2000 the following evening, Wynn and CPT Baumann sat next to each other in the battalion headquarters awaiting BG Craig’s call. After the report on the brick factory operation and the take down of PFA had gone up channels, word had come down that Craig wanted to talk personally with Baumann and commend him. Baumann, recognizing the crucial role the Wolfhounds had played, brought Wynn along.

Wynn, after Baumann had informed him of the pending call, couldn’t help but feel positive about the reasons. The Wolfhounds had performed well. Recognition of that was now being acknowledged all the way up to division headquarters. He tried to anticipate what Craig might say. Baumann, as the company commander, would get a lot of the credit. Wynn understood the rules of hierarchy. But he appreciated Baumann’s including him in the call. That said a lot about Baumann’s view of things and his leadership style. It also reflected well on Craig. For the second highest ranking officer in the division to so quickly take the time to offer a personal commendation said something important.

A staff officer came up on the line and told Baumann to standby for BG Craig.

“Roger, Sir,” Baumann answered.

Baumann looked at Wynn. Wynn read his look as one part pride and one part uncertainty, aware that things were always a bit unpredictable when a general entered the conversation.

He thought about the talk with Amir last night. He’d informed Baumann of the details early this morning. After shaking his head for a while, Baumann had evidently accepted, as Wynn did, that the facts revealed by Amir needed to be viewed as something unchanging and essential, like the weather, or like the birth and death cycle of life—as something to take benefit from when possible, and to endure with stoicism when no other answer was reasonable. Baumann had told Wynn that he’d included some comments on Amir in his report.

“Ben, you there?” Wynn could tell it was the powerful voice of BG Craig.

“Roger, Sir,” Baumann answered.

The conversation grew muffled and Wynn couldn’t hear most of Craig’s words. Baumann received the statements like a man on stage getting a trophy.

After about two minutes, Baumann, when he saw a window of opportunity, said, “Sir, Christian Wynn’s platoon made this possible. Those guys did the leg work and had the connections. I have him here with me. Could I ask you to say a word to him?”

Baumann handed Wynn the phone.

“Lieutenant Wynn here, Sir,”

“Christian, your boss and I just had a short chat. He tells me you guys did most of the ball running. That’s great! Look, I’m going to make this quick, but it’s important. Tell your men, ‘Job well done!’ And tell them I know it’s hard. Remember this—if you’re a surgeon cutting out a cancer, every step is a big deal. No matter how many or how simple or complex they are, every one of them counts. But everybody in that operating room knows that, without the surgeon, it ain’t happening. That surgeon is the indispensable man. Your platoon, Christian, you guys are the surgeons in your piece of the war. Without you and your boys the operation has no chance of success.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Nobody knows for sure how this thing plays out, Christian. Not us up here, not Washington, not you guys down in the dirt. What we do is what we always do: soldier up and drive on.”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

It’s been said that writing a book is like giving birth. I like that analogy. The process is long and physically exhausting. You see and feel changes going on inside you that you strive to convince yourself that you are in control of but you are never quite sure. Yes, you, the author, get most of the credit in the end. However, around me figuratively in the hospital as I’m delivering this child are hundreds of crucial staff members that I’ve too often called on. First of all, there are my fellow warriors, America’s Soldiers, Sailors, Airman, Marines, and Coast Guardians. Those guys built the hospital where I went to give birth. They consummated the enterprise and made this novel possible. Without them, there is no life-experience, no context, and no story. Some exceptional people came into the delivery room, having taken a more personal role in gestation. I would like to thank Mr. Hugh Cook, the Canadian writer and professor, for very early editing advice and for making me think I could do it. I owe the beautiful Ms. Ludmila Bogomolova special thanks for checking my pulse and wiping my brow as the time got closer and we read and reread the text together. There were times when I wanted to abort. Ludmila didn’t let me. Once contractions started, the stern doctors with the forceps in the room were Dale and Julia Dye. That noble team at Warriors Publishing Group gave me a chance and did the close-in delivery. They have my utmost gratitude for dealing professionally throughout this amazing experience of bringing a very vocal beast out into the world.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Colonel Claude Schmid retired from the Army in 2013 after 31 years of military service in combat units around the world. During his two tours of duty in Iraq, he commanded a combined US-Iraqi Infrastructure Security Force which secured, defended, and assisted in the rebuilding of Iraq’s Northern Energy Infrastructure. He returned to Iraq as Commandant of the new Iraqi Military School System. Before retiring, Claude served as the Chief of the Army’s Wounded Warrior Flight Program, which welcomed thousands of wounded warriors back from Iraq and Afghanistan for medical treatment. Serving in this capacity—witnessing their hardship and pain, and hearing their stories—reaffirmed for him the unbreakable strength of America’s Soldiers, Marines, Sailors, and Airmen.

A first-generation American, Claude was born in New Jersey of Swiss parents. He is an avid student of history, politics, and good books. He holds degrees in economics and government, a Master’s Degree in Business Administration, and a Master’s in Strategic Studies from the Army War College. He is a member of the American Legion, the Veterans of Foreign Wars, and the International Churchill Society, and serves on the New Jersey Board of Directors of Operation Homefront.

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Cover art copyright © 2016 by Gerry Kissell (
gerrykissell.com
)

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