Time for a subversive claim: the most critical things we do in the Army often come with the lowest profiles. This includes communication. Major training events can catch the eye of public affairs and higher commands, but we do something every day that is unfailingly key to mission success; we communicate. There aren’t enough sticks left for me to join in beating this dead horse in general, but I hope to offer a refreshing way of viewing one specific aspect of it.
Analysts of the Russian Airborne Forces’ (VDV) failures in the 2022 Russian invasion of Ukraine run the risk of making piece-meal assessments that airborne forces are irrelevant and incapable of achieving success in large scale combat operations (LSCO). The world observed the necessity of conducting effective suppression of enemy air defense (SEAD) in support of a joint forcible entry (JFE) operations and the planning for secondary echelons to arrive and support the force that gained the lodgment.
Military marriages are uniquely rewarding, but they are also uniquely challenging. Like any relationship, marriage in the military is a journey that takes work. Introducing a spouse to military life is a common point of friction among service members. Friction can arise due to miscommunication and stress. Soldiers and spouses need to be aware of these struggles to thrive in a military relationship.
The military has a suicide problem. The Department of Defense reported a 41% increase in suicide rates between 2015 and 2020, with 580 deaths in 2020 alone. This pace has continued over the course of the past two years, showing little sign of letting up. Leaders at all levels must be ready to deal with this crisis, along with the impacts of a 20-year conflict, a global pandemic, and record levels of inflation. The fight against suicide starts at the lowest levels, where the rubber meets the road. It is imperative that company command teams establish suicide prevention programs tailored to their units.
As an Army, we praise leaders who put their needs behind the needs of an organization. We encourage the “Leaders Eat Last” mentality in which good leaders give all they have for the betterment of the team. We reinforce the notion that good leaders are the last to go to bed and the first to wake up. They are the first in the office and the last to leave. They sacrifice their time, energy, and resources for the team. In Simon Sinek’s book, he explains that great leaders “understand that the true cost of the leadership privilege comes at the expense of self-interest.” However, can a leader take that too far? When does a servant leader become a liability to the team?
Here are the articles posted to the PS Magazine website the months of February and March 2022.
Few Army captains imagine themselves commanding fellow captains, but that’s exactly where I found myself beginning in 2019. That year I received orders to the United States Army Intelligence Center of Excellence (USAICoE) in Fort Huachuca, Arizona to teach, develop, and mentor the next generation of Military Intelligence (MI) Officers at the Captains Career Course (CCC). Being assigned to your center of excellence provides a unique and priceless opportunity to expand your personal and professional network. Prior to serving in USAICoE, I worked with a small community of intelligence leaders. After serving two years as a MICCC Small Group Leader (SGL) and instructor, I was introduced to dozens of my peers and a few more senior MI professionals who I continue to work with and hope to serve alongside in the future.
Grunts often use the word “love” to describe their feelings for their family of mortal combatants. It is even more pronounced for their leaders. How is this so? Let me try.
Here are the articles that were published on the PS Magazine website the month of January 2022.
It’s Summer 2019 at the 25th Infantry Division’s Lightning Academy. I report to the 40-foot tower for my hollywood-style rappel. A Staff Sergeant affectionately known as “Air Assault Sergeant,” calls me forward to his line atop the tower. I sound off with a loud and thunderous “right hand brake hand,” and step forward. He inspects the stitching on my gloves and my rappel seat, finishing with the instructions of “hook in.” I get into position and while assessing me, he asks what I do. “I’m a logistician Air Assault Sergeant,” I say. He turns to the other instructor shouting, “this kid says he only eats vegetables.” They both laugh. From that day forward, I have continued to reflect on the unique relationship between logisticians and our customers of whom we support.
