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Chestnuts Roasting Over Mortar Fire

Bringing the home front to the battlefield is tricky business!

This is an edit and re-write of a much earlier blog entry — back when I was first blogging — about dealing with deployment and particularly around issues of morale. I have in the past couple of weeks received a few emails from military parents, so I thought I would pull this one back up and spruce it up a bit.

It has been my experience that parents’ involvement in their soldier’s Family Readiness Group FRG is hit and miss. I have met some parents who are deeply involved. They are connected and get frequent communication, and yet some of us have never received anything outside of an initial email (if even that!). I am the latter parent, and it has made this entry into supporting my deployed son difficult at times. There were times in the beginning where the grief and fear were nearly paralyzing. I felt all alone, but I knew there were others going through the same emotions. I simply did not know how to find them and connect with them. Fortunately I started to blog and that lead to some of my online family friends, and I found a couple of support boards for parents of deployed soldiers. I really do think that a variety of support portals for families is good, and it encourages involvement. If you do not get what you need from one community you go to the next — until you find what you need.

If you have any chance of being involved in your soldier’s FRG I highly recommend it! If it is a well organized group with people who are seasoned with deployment experiences then you are going to find a wealth of information as well as fellowship with those either on the same journey you are on, or those who have journeyed there before! The stories I hear from parents who are blessed to have a well run FRG are simply wonderful!

So what exactly is “morale?”

There is a fine line between telling my soldier how much he is loved and missed, and becoming a burden to his heart and mind by fanning the flames of homesickness or planting worries for him to ponder. I really do not have any answers that will clearly show exactly where that line lies. There will never be “one answer” for such a complex topic, but sometimes muddling through a topic helps me to at least establish some parameters in my own mind around a given topic.

This concept of support and morale has been a topic hard discussed on some family support boards. It is not just parents asking the questions, but wives and friends of soldiers as well. Ultimately, as I have stated before, the concept of support can be fairly diverse. What one family and soldier may deem as supportive, another family and soldier may not. Regardless of your familial practice and expression of support, and the way it has become defined within the culture of your family there are a few things that we must practice as families to keep our soldier’s mind and heart safe; and that means unburdened and uncluttered from the civilian world while he is on the battlefield.

The online dictionary defines morale as:

mo·rale

n. The state of the spirits of a person or group as exhibited by confidence, cheerfulness, discipline, and willingness to perform assigned tasks.

[French, morality, good conduct, from feminine of moral, moral, from Old French. See moral.]

SYNONYMS morale, esprit, esprit de corps. These nouns denote a spirit, as of dedication to a common goal, that unites a group: the high morale of the troops; the esprit of an orchestra; the esprit de corps of the swim team.

Online Dictionary Reference

Considering what this definition says and how that effects what the troops encounter on the battlefield I can only imagine why getting care packages, cards, letters and well wishes from home are so vital to the spirit of the Troops. I also have to wonder about the families left behind when it comes to the need for morale. Maybe I can write about family morale at a later time. It is a vital component, because when the main person(s) offering morale become discouraged with the news around the war, tired, anxious, or depressed it will come through on the other end of the line of communication. Your soldier will need regular communication letting him know that all is well on the home front. That doesn’t mean you can’t talk to him about the hard things. I think that timing is vital though when you are needing to talk about the heavy.

So, what if all is not well on the home front? How should that be communicated? Even when you are struggling and having a hard day it is important to end your note or chat with him, with reassurance that you are alright and all will be handled just fine. There is nothing wrong with talking normally to your soldier (as a matter of fact you should!!) I think I am trying to emphasize here that when you write or talk with him make sure you do not leave him wondering or leave room in his mind to worry. Since communication can become sparse and erratic at times it is important to tie up the loose ends of the conversation before saying good bye if at all possible. Don’t bite off more than you can chew either. If he has 10 minutes to talk before he heads out on a mission, now would not be a good time to bring up anything that he would need to think too deeply on. It would be no different than telling a brain surgeon 10 minutes before he is to operate that something tragic just happened in his family, but he has to operate anyway. I wouldn’t want to be the patient under that knife, and I do not want my son (or the soldiers’ he is with!) to be distracted from their mission — lives are on the line in both scenarios!

I know that a lot of this is simply common sense, but to be perfectly honest it is easy to want to cram so much life and living into a 10 minute phone call that simple mindfulness can easily go out the window. It is not out of selfishness or carelessness, but it is easy to miss your soldier so much that when you hear his voice you want him to hear what’s going on! His absence is a daily hole in your world, and sometimes that phone call is the only relief you may get for a while. It’s a little different for those who are able to communicate regularly with their soldiers. Not all soldiers are able to call home that frequently, so that definitely compounds the problems where communication is concerned.

So far our conversations, both on the phone and over, are pretty much focused on things here at home. He really does not want to talk much about what is going on around him. I don’t blame him! I never push for information. I really don’t want to know anything that he is not ready to share. He knows I am here and I can handle it. That is what matters. When we chat we talk about old times, his friends, his brothers, our Church news, etc. I pretty much let him lead where the conversation will go. I am here to provide for him a safe and soft spot in the world he is in right now. I will do all that I can to make sure that those times of communication are a respite, a solace and a refuge. He does not need any undue stress from the home front. He has enough stress in Baghdad to last him a lifetime (and believe me I am painfully aware that it may!).

If you experience an emergency and your soldier needs to be contacted right away, then contact your FRG and/or The American Red Cross in your neighborhood. If you are unaware of who you should contact or the number to your local ARC, please look the information up now. Remember the old adage “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure!” It never hurts to have some emergency contacts listed out so that if you are faced with a crisis you are not having to try and figure it out in the moment.

In the meantime, I certainly wish you all happy communication. I hope and pray that your chats and discussions keep you all close and growing together through the good times and the tough times. Keep packing those care packages with tastes of home, a little fun, a lot of necessity and more love than the box can hold. Every care package and letter sent will have very special meaning for your solider — and it will always mean so much to you knowing you are encouraging him and helping him from afar.

Maintenance

I plan on doing some overhaul to my blog very soon. I am looking at some new designs (similar but more “put together”). Also, I want to organize my links more and index my posts better. Please be patient.

I am going to add a link section of organizations that I did highlight and I really do want to finish with the 90 Days project. Life has simply swept me away lately and so the blog entries I do write are just my own cathartic blathering. Thank you all so much for the emails! It has greatly encouraged me to to hear from those who are enjoying the blog!

This week I will be in Benning for nearly the whole week. I am planning on doing some blogging from Benning so that family and friends who could not be at Bryan’s graduation can see it as quickly as possible. I am sure that there will be some time when he will be sleeping — since he hasn’t slept a full night in more than 2 months!

Sleep deprivation? Grenades? Guns? 15 mile road marches? NOTHING compared to the “Emmanator!” I can’t wait to see him.

Homemade Cheerios?

Through checking my stat counter I found a referral link that was a google search on “homemade cheerios.” I am sorry that I am #1 on that particular search, and that I was using the fact that anyone would make homemade cheerios as a sarcastic poke at perfectionism. I hope you find your recipe, and that you don’t hate me now. Just in case anyone else happens upon this blog through that search… I want to offer you my impromptu recipe for homemade cheerios!

Claire’s Homemade Cheerios:

One box Cheerios brand cereal (any size any variety)
1 cookie sheet
1 naive and trusting family

Notes:
Do not use the off brand they just don’t taste right! I don’t care what anyone says I can taste a generic Cheerio before by back teeth have a chance to crunch!

Ok, this is the hardest part… you have to put the cheerios in a single layer on a cookie sheet — use your old fashioned one with actual sides on it. Cheerios stink when they are on the bottom of the stove getting burned.

Pre-heat oven to 200 degrees. Tell your family that it takes 2-3 hours to make these things. Now, hang sheets up temporarily over the doorways to your kitchen. Warn everyone that all movement in the kitchen is detrimental as it could cause the Cheerios to fall — or worse morph into ovals.

Put cookie sheet in oven. Turn oven off now… you don’t want the kitchen to be hot because this is where you are going to give yourself that much needed homemade pedicure, read that book you have been wanting to either start or finish, take that quick little nap, and this is where you will pull your laptop out and blog in peace.

…. Oops, gotta go! The timer went off! Nothing says “I love you, but I need s serious break” like homemade Cheerios. Enjoy!

A Time for Choosing!

I found this video of Reagan and his 1964 speech entitled “A time for choosing” on Forest Fire. The words that Reagan spoke so many years ago still hold true today, and even more so where any talk of compromise, appeasement or surrender are concerned. In this speech Reagan says that one commentator said “I would rather live on my knees than die on my feet!” We are damned people when we would rather sell ourselves into slavery than stand up and fight for what so many who came before us bled and died for. That quote is a disgusting abomination.

I actually saw an interview where several people thought that the War on Terror was already over. Then of course we have those who would like to be President who say the War on Terror is a bumper sticker slogan. Bumper stickers are easier to put on your car when you are living on your knees.

Here is a link to the entire transcript.

I am woman, hear me roar?

No, actually since becoming a mother 22 years ago my slogan has been “I am woman hear me snore!” or maybe “I am woman at the store!” Of course “I am woman face flat on the floor” is a given! The exhaustion is really getting to me these days. I do have a pretty easy day tomorrow though. Maybe I will find time to nap in between chores.

My to-do list for tomorrow is really not too hard to accomplish. Here it is:

  1. Clean and organize my home. It will be so spotless even a germaphobe will roll around on my carpet!
  2. Save a kitty cat from a burning tree and return him to his grateful owner.
  3. I will make homemade cheerios, and shape each one by hand into a perfect little circle.
  4. Cut my lawn with kitchen shears (they are so much more accurate than a stupid mower!)
  5. Lose the other 10 pounds that I really need to lose — Yes, I will do that tomorrow.
  6. Tone this body up now that it is thin again… tomorrow my abs will go from flabby to fabulous! I just know this is my day!
  7. I will hang my American Flag out in the morning, and Emma and I will say the pledge and sing the National Anthem out front in our star spangled morning robes.
  8. I will feed the hungry by 2 pm. I mean ALL of them!
  9. I have to apologize for not dealing with the whole need for world peace. I will get right on that. It will be done no later than 7pm tomorrow. Thank you for your patience.
  10. I will rescue a confused, orphaned bear cub, name him Simba — feed him from a bottle and have him ready for re-entry to the wild by 2:30.
  11. I plan on repainting the house… inside and out. I also think I need to re-do the cement walkway. That can be done by 10:30 AM. It’s best to get those things before the heat sets in.
  12. I will have Emma completely potty trained, obeying perfectly and proficiently speaking 3 languages (aside from English and toddlerease that is). We’ll worry about Algebra later.
  13. I will host a dinner party for 25, and offer a 3, no 4, awh what the heck, 7 course meal! I will make little tiny individual cheesecakes with perfect swirls of chocolate and raspberry sauce.
  14. I will single handily destroy the forces of darkness and the forces behind all of the horrible Elvis impersonators (Wait, I think that they are one in the same!)
  15. Bake enough cookies to feed every single soldier that is serving, has served or is even thinking of serving. While I am at I will rivet a few planes.

Did I mention that I will be doing all of the above wearing pearls and pumps?

Well, you get the picture right? I tend to have very high expectations for myself. The sad part is they are unrealistic many times. Through God’s grace that is slowly being tempered, and my zeal for accomplishment is being focused on things that matter much more than homemade cheerios.

I have 3 very ripe bananas. I was supposed to make a banana nut bread tonight, but I didn’t. Instead I did my normal housecleaning (I really don’t let that slide). Then I painted Emma’s little toenails and fingernails for the first time. She was so cute. She couldn’t believe that her little toes (or piggies as she calls them) are pink now! We read out of her two new books, and we hid. “Hiding” for Emma is when I am holding her and my extremely thick and long hair falls over her face when I kiss her. My hair is so thick she can’t see through it when she is under it all. Yes, I am like Cousin It.

Any Martha Stewart wannabe can cut down a tree, process it into beautiful paper, home make her own ink and fashion a pen out of some obscure common household item, write the entire Constitution (from memory of course!) verbatim on it, in perfect calligraphy and frame it with a frame fashioned from the left over paper wood. Ha! I laugh at that. I have to deal with the Pirate everyday. Martha has nothing on me!

I do have an mp3 player with rock music on it. It really helps me when I am exercising. I am a musical person, so hearing a strong beat and fast tempo helps to keep me on track while I am doing my hour of cardio each morning. I always finish and do my cool down with the Pretenders’ Middle of the Road.

The middle of the road is trying to find me
I’m standing in the middle of life with my plans behind me
Well I got a smile for everyone I meet
As long as you don’t try dragging my bay
Or dropping the bomb on my street
…..
The middle of the road is no private cul-de-sac
I cant get from the cab to the curb
Without some little jerk on my back
Don’t harass me, cant you tell
I’m going home, I’m tired as hell
I’m not the cat I used to be
I got a kid, I’m thirty-three (baby!)

I really wish I was 33! Well, I guess tomorrow you will find me in the middle of the road. I won’t be on the idle side, and I won’t be in the fast lane. I will just be doing what I need to do, what I can do and what I should do. I hope you all have a good day too!

Blessings on the hand of military mothers!

I know there are those who believe no blessing can be found in combat, war, and turmoil. I am of the mindset that there is something we are obligated to learn regardless of our circumstances. Suffering in this life is inevitable — learning is optional. What can a mother learn, or perhaps remember in a new light, about her soldier when he is facing peril on the battlefield? This is a good place to start if you are looking for blessings.

Maybe she will look through his baby pictures and compare his younger pictures to his most recent one. Then she will try and remember exactly at what point in his life did he become a soldier? I know the technical answer is after the successful completion of Basic Combat Training (BCT), but I mean when did his mind, heart and soul begin to realize that duty is a good thing, and protecting people you care about is a life that is worth living and a life worth giving?

She will learn in time that he is a grown man. He is much more grown than she was ever willing to admit in the past. He is competent, brave and has a work ethic that outshines many of his civilian counterparts. She remembers seeing him run cross country races in high school. She also remembers his coach telling her time and time again that for her son’s build (very stocky) he should not be able to run like he does. “He has a heart for it!” his coach exclaimed. “Yes, indeed he does” she quietly remembers.

She may get an occasional rare glimpse into the hopes that are buried deep in his heart. They are hopes he can not quite bring himself to speak of at this time. Hopes he has for a wife and children some day. Hopes he has for coming home from this war and resting in the knowledge that he did good work, and he was able to complete his mission. She remembers hearing his hopes when he was little that were pie-in-the-sky and were based on boyhood fantasies. His hopes of today sound more like the same hopes she had at that age.

If she listens closely during phone calls, she will hear exhaustion, fear, paranoia and other deep stresses that he tries to protect her from. She knows him too well to not notice the intensity and fatigue on the other line. She is in the relative safety of her home, and he is in the midst of those who seek to kill him — yet, he is still sensitive to her worries. It is much like the conversations he used to start, as a young teenager, with the phrase “Mom, I hate to bug you, but I need to talk.” One day when he is a father he will know that it is never an imposition, but rather it is a blessing to get to be the one to support your child.

She will see him transform while he is deployed. He may even get a little crusty around the edges. Kind of like a tougher layer of crust that forms to protect the more vulnerable inside, he may develop a sharper edge to him too. She saw the same thing occur when he developed that wry sense of sarcasm that he is so infamous for.

Reading will become her favorite past time. She won’t read novels about romance, science fiction or decorating her home. She may after a while, but right away? More than likely, no. She will read all she can about the place her son will be calling home for the next 12 or more months. She will remember getting to know the parents of his friends when he was much younger, so that her mind could rest. This time, though, she will not find comfort or rest in the knowledge she gains. Instead what she learns will haunt her until he is home for good.

When my son was in middle school there were two incidents that I recall most vividly around that time in his development. The first incident took place in 7th grade. His first dance was announced and he was excited to go. He was (and in my opinion still is) a pretty handsome guy, and was also fairly popular. When he showed up at the dance, a few friends were already there. A young boy was also there, and he was “Educable Mentally Retarded.” That is the professional term, but to make it easy just think “high functioning retardation.” Mike felt protective of the young boy at the very beginning of the school year. His name was John, and he picked up on Mike’s sense of understanding and empathy right away. John followed Mike around quite a bit throughout the school year. Mike didn’t mind. When the dance music started that night, John decided he wanted to dance. It did not matter to him that he was alone and without a dance partner. It should not have mattered to anyone, but some kids had become hurtful and they shamed John off of the dance floor with stabbing remarks, morbid mocking, and cruel names.

Mike became furious at their cruelty. He stood up to his friends that night and reminded them “We are at a dance. John is the only one dancing. You are standing here acting like jerks. To think they call HIM the retarded one!” Yes, even back then he was not afraid to speak his mind. Mike stayed until John’s mom got there to pick him up and then he called me to come and get him. Even though Mike was furious when this happened he kept his composure and dealt with the matter at hand. Nothing more, nothing less. I think he was becoming a soldier then, but we just didn’t know it yet.

I also think he was becoming a soldier the day that a buddy of his pounced jokingly on him right before 1st period. They had been in wrestling earlier in school together. When his friend knocked him to the ground he accidentally broke Mike’s shoulder! Mike had a huge test in computer that morning in 1st period. He put on a forced smile, hobbled to class wounded and sat at his desk. He took that test. He had an obligation to fulfill, and he was going to do it come hell or high water! When he answered the final question he went up to his teacher and said “I need my mom to come and get me. I am pretty sure I broke my shoulder.” His teacher was both mortified and extremely impressed! I took him into the doctor’s office immediately, and through x-ray examination it was evident that the child had taken his test with a very bad break. I can clearly see that he had another component of being a soldier instilled in him that day too.

I could tell you several stories about Mike standing up to bullies, fulfilling his obligations, and yes some stories of him being imperfect and not doing those things too. He’s human. I could tell you of his very strong convictions around justice, and his deep sense of loyalty. I guess ultimately I can point to many things that molded him into someone who can make a difference in the world at a time when it is desperately needed. Blessings abound when you stop and think back on all of the things your son did while he was growing up that was evidence of an inner-being developing into a servant, a leader, and a soldier.

I would like to think that the way his cradle was rocked had a little something to do with it too.

The Hand That Rocks The Cradle

Blessings on the hand of women!

Angels guard its strength and grace,

In the palace, cottage, hovel,

Oh, no matter where the place;

Would that never storms assailed it,

Rainbows ever gently curled;

For the hand that rocks the cradle

Is the hand that rules the world.


Infancy’s the tender fountain,

Power may with beauty flow,

Mother’s first to guide the streamlets,

From them souls unresting grow–

Grow on for the good or evil,

Sunshine streamed or evil hurled;

For the hand that rocks the cradle

Is the hand that rules the world.


Woman, how divine your mission

Here upon our natal sod!

Keep, oh, keep the young heart open

Always to the breath of God!

All true trophies of the ages

Are from mother-love impearled;

For the hand that rocks the cradle

Is the hand that rules the world.


Blessings on the hand of women!

Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,

And the sacred song is mingled

With the worship in the sky–

Mingles where no tempest darkens,

Rainbows evermore are hurled;

For the hand that rocks the cradle

Is the hand that rules the world.

William Ross Wallace (1819-1881)

One Week and counting

In exactly one week from today I will be on the road and on my way to Benning! We will have a week filled with family day, graduation and preparations for OCS. There will be moments of pride, anxiety, shopping for all of the stuff on the OCS packing list (which is where some of the anxiety comes from! Oy!), and then a sad farewell as we repack and leave Bryan behind to start his newest leg of training. I am so excited and I just can’t wait to see him again. I know that it will be strange. I remember when I first saw Mike after BCT. It is amazing to me how much those intense weeks change a person — the demeanor and physical appearance are a stark contrast to the memory you hold of that person. They go through such a transformation in that period of time, and yet they remain frozen in time in your own head. I am sure it will be emotional. I am sure that even with the changes that have been made I will immediately recognize him and the man I fell in love with and married will be right before my eyes again.

So, we will be heading down that way with a van full of adults and teens — and, of course, a curly headed pirate. I think I will make a sign that says “Ft. Benning or Bust.” Let’s just hope the “Bust” doesn’t happen any where near Atlanta!

Sticks and stones are nothing compared to the truth!

Remember the old adages your mother used to use on you? You know you can hear them ringing the in your memories of old, and you also know (now that you are older) that she was right! How about this old one?

“Sticks and Stones may break your bones, but names will never hurt you.”

How many of them can you recite? Many I am sure! So, let’s talk about sticks and stones today. That is the one that feels appropriate to me. Where my son is concerned there are many dangers he faces in Baghdad that can break his bones and hurt him seriously. Sticks and stones are the least of his concerns and worries these days, and being called names does not phase him in the least at this moment. It does, however, phase me. It doesn’t only phase me, but it makes me very angry.

Perhaps it makes me more angry than it should, but many families who have loved ones deployed feel very protective of their soldier — actually many of us feel very protective of all of our men and women in the Armed Services. Maybe it is our only way of feeling that we are somehow reciprocating the sense of protection, love and sacrifice that we know they are giving to us. As a parent it is very hard because in the grand scheme of life it feels backward and askew that your child would surpass you in life experiences where death and danger are concerned. It feels awry to have to accept that the one you protected for so many years has now surpassed you in the ability to protect. It is just one of those facts that I have had a very hard time reconciling fully. I can accept it on a cognitive level, but emotionally it is difficult.

So, onto the subject matter at hand. Who is calling our troops names this time? Ted Rall is of course. I refuse to post his disgusting, insulting, mordacious idiocy, passed off as a political cartoon, on my blog. If you have not seen the disgusting troop bashing cartoon of which I am speaking you can see it HERE. In this cartoon Rall slanderously refers to our soldiers as: stupid, poor, uneducated, blindly obedient, and are doing what they do out of some religious fervor akin to radical Islam. He parallels our soldiers with the profile of a suicide bomber. Rall insults, degrades and slanders the very citizens in this Country who will bear arms, march into war, and fight to the death — to their very last breath, to defend his right to speak freely. The irony is rich and disgusting. There is nothing delicious about it.

I do have to say that I appreciate the fact that Rall is so blatant and honest about his hatred for our Troops. It is a luxury these days to have a foe who is honest! At least he is not deceptively coaxing us in with a pro-troop message, only to lower the boom by insulting us with some sentiment of how he “supports the troops, but not their mission.” I appreciate the fact that he flat out says he does not support them. It’s always nice to know where you stand. That is refreshing! Now we don’t have to worry about him defending his stance. There is no defense needed. He does not have to say that this was a joke gone wrong, or a comment that “just came out the wrong way.” We won’t have to endure apologies ad nauseam. We have blatant, in your face, disrespect and hatred for our Soldiers. It reminds me of when the effigy of an American Soldier was burned at Portland not long ago. It’s an aggressive stance that draws a very distinct line — the kind of line that can not be erased, moved or altered by double speak.

Maybe if his cartoon had some weird and twisted irony in it that were eluding to some truth or fact, I could stomach it better. The fact of the matter is there is no truth to what he says. He is illiberal and narrow minded where our military is concerned. His cartoons (past and present) are all the evidence we need to make such assertions. Let me give you a quick “snap shot” of the people who he said were stupid and poor (and a host of other things, but let’s focus on these two for now). The Heritage Foundation has done quite a wonderful job calling into question these assertions that are commonly stated by the anti-military faction.

I will just highlight a few of the findings here, for brevity sake. Please read the entire article found on their website. It is a very well conducted meta analysis of current demographics based on the measurable qualities of new recruits in today’s Armed Forces. The Heritage Foundation did not rely on unsubstantiated slander and hate mongering assertions to make their claims. They relied on a quantitative and qualitative analysis of the information available. Enjoy:

October 27, 2006
Who Are the Recruits? The Demographic Characteristics of U.S. Military Enlistment, 2003–2005
Center for Data Analysis Report #06-09

A pillar of conventional wisdom about the U.S. military is that the quality of volunteers has been degraded after the invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq. Examples of the voices making this claim range from the Washington Post, Los Angeles Times, and New York Daily News [1] to Michael Moore’s pseudo-documentary Fahrenheit 9/11. Some insist that minorities and the underprivileged are over­represented in the military. Others accuse the U.S. Army of accepting unqualified enlistees in a futile attempt to meet its recruiting goals in the midst of an unpopular war.[2]

A report published by The Heritage Foundation in November 2005 examined the issue and could not substantiate any degradation in troop quality by comparing military enlistees in 1999 to those in 2003. It is possible that troop quality did not degrade until after the initial invasion of Iraq in 2003, when patriotism was high. A common assumption is that the Army experienced difficulty getting qualified enlistees in 2005 and was subse­quently forced to lower its standards. This report revisits the issue by examining the full recruiting classes for all branches of the U.S. military for every year from 2003 to 2005.

The current findings show that the demo­graphic characteristics of volunteers have contin­ued to show signs of higher, not lower, quality. Quality is a difficult concept to apply to soldiers, or to human beings in any context, and it should be understood here in context. Regardless of the standards used to screen applicants, the average quality of the people accepted into any organiza­tion can be assessed only by using measurable cri­teria, which surely fail to account for intangible characteristics. In the military, it is especially questionable to claim that measurable characteris­tics accurately reflect what really matters: cour­age, honor, integrity, loyalty, and leadership.

Although I totally agree that there is no way to claim that the measurable characteristics can reflect the level of courage, honor and integrity of a recruit I would also have to argue that much of an earlier, pre-training measure would be deeply confounded by training, fraternizing and bonding with fellow soldiers, as well as experience — especially experience on the battlefield. How can any of these characteristics be measured, other than to simply find a measure that would allow for a way to determine whether or not a recruit has the capacity to develop them and/or an ability to demonstrate these qualities within the setting of actual praxis? Courage in the classroom is very different than courage on the battlefield.

In summary, the additional years of recruit data (2004–2005) sup­port the previous finding that U.S. military recruits are more similar than dissimilar to the American youth population. The slight dif­ferences are that wartime U.S. mil­itary enlistees are better educated, wealthier, and more rural on aver­age than their civilian peers.

Recruits have a higher percent­age of high school graduates and representation from Southern and rural areas. No evidence indicates exploitation of racial minorities (either by race or by race-weighted ZIP code areas). Finally, the distri­bution of household income of recruits is noticeably higher than that of the entire youth population.

Demographic evidence discredits the argument that a draft is necessary to enforce representation from racial and socioeconomic groups. Addition­ally, three of the four branches of the armed forces met their recruiting goals in fiscal year 2005, and Army reenlistments are the highest in the past five years. A draft is not necessary to increase the size of the active-duty forces. Our analysis using Pentagon data on wartime volunteers effectively shatters the case for reinstating the draft.

As the article continues you will read that our troops are well educated (a better percentage than in the civilian world), and they come from many different socioeconomic backgrounds with the wealthier families being well represented. The quality of our troops today is something we should be proud of. This study clearly shows that today’s men and women in the Armed Services are smart and have many options to choose from when it comes to a career path. Yes, they are smart and they chose the military. The two are very compatible!

Here is the conclusion in the article:


As support for the war in Iraq has declined, criti­cism of the war has translated into criticism of our nation’s troops, at least by way of criticizing the quality of wartime recruits. The November 2005 Heritage Foundation study found that recruits enlisting at the start of the war were of high quality and in many respects comparable to the youth population. This updated report’s examination of three years of wartime recruits shows that recruit quality has not declined. The estimate for mean household income of recruits increased every year from 2003 through 2005. The poorest areas continue to be underrep­resented, while middle-class areas are overrepre­sented. Although the richest income brackets are underrepresented, the difference between the recruit and population proportions for these brack­ets is less than 0.25 percent. Overall, the distribu­tion for recruit household incomes is very similar to that of the youth population.

Another good resource: Official Debunks Myths About Military Recruits

Hooah
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