My Share of the Task(168)

                “There will be few markers from this war,” I said to those present, and those still far away, “and much of the history will be inaccurate or incomplete. Cannons won’t reflect where you stood and bled, or markers to record the cost. But in the minds and hearts of those who have known you, and in the soul of the nation, the fact that you were there is indelibly written. You have done your duty—and it was the honor of my life to have been here to witness it. Thank you.”

                With those words, I gave up command of TF 714.

                A few weeks earlier, I had been confirmed by the Senate to become director of the Joint Staff, essentially chief of staff to the chairman and the joint chiefs. DJS, as it was called, was a prestigious post, one John Abizaid and then George Casey had held during my previous tour at the Pentagon. I’d been told that the chairman, Admiral Mike Mullen, had sought me for the position. Having appreciated his keen interest in how TF 714 operated when he was the chief of naval operations, I suspected he’d be a kindred spirit.

                The Senate confirmation process had been unexpectedly jarring. Although every military officer’s promotion to field grade or higher must be confirmed by Senate vote, my experience to that point in my career had been as a name on long promotion lists that the White House recommended and the Senate confirmed. My promotion to lieutenant general in February 2006, when I was deployed in Iraq, had not involved individual testimony or significant issues.

                This time the experience was much different. I was informed in December 2007 that I’d be nominated for the DJS job and to anticipate an early 2008 confirmation and departure from TF 714. In the end the process took until the first week of June. Although questions surrounding the death of Pat Tillman were raised and I addressed them, the major issue regarded TF 714’s detention operations. Legitimate questions and concerns were intertwined with an ongoing inquiry into the Bush administration’s overall detention policies led by Senator Levin. I was happy for the opportunity to address any questions about TF 714 head-on, but it felt as though the delay was the product of a larger political issue.

                I reported for duty to the Joint Staff on August 13, 2008. Because I’d disliked the ponderous Pentagon bureaucracy during my previous tour I was pleased with the guidance I received in my first meeting with Chairman Mullen.

                “I want you to do what you do,” he said. “I want you to attack and destroy the network.”

                I was confused. We were sitting in his quiet office in the Pentagon, not Baghdad. “Chairman, what network are you talking about?”

                “Ours,” he said. He was referring to the Joint Staff, and by extension to the parts of the Pentagon and military we in the Staff interacted with. “Tear it down and rebuild it to be faster, more transparent, and more effective.”

                That was clear enough, even for an infantryman. A navy admiral with extensive experience in the Pentagon had identified an enemy who must be defeated, and it was us. Much of my next ten months were spent implementing changes to shape the Joint Staff into the more agile, focused team that Admiral Mullen desired. My close partner in this, and in Afghanistan afterward, was my executive officer, Charlie Flynn. Since he had commanded a company under me in the 2nd Ranger Battalion in the mid-1990s, Charlie and I had stayed close. He was, on the surface, charismatic and easygoing, with a quick smile and kind face. But as the youngest of a rough-and-tumble Rhode Island brood of nine, Charlie had a scrappy, hard-charging energy. He came to the Pentagon that year directly from commanding in Iraq—his third combat tour since 9/11. He and his wife decided the family would stay in North Carolina to let their kids stay in the same schools, so Annie insisted he bunk in a small third-floor room in our quarters on Fort McNair.

                During our year at the Pentagon, we shared most moments of what became a mechanical schedule: Each night, he and I ate a quick dinner together before I got up the next day at 3:30 A.M. to run to the Pentagon, in time to shower, change, meet Dave Rodriguez at six and then host the 6:30 A.M. standup—a knock-off of the TF 714 O&I—that I soon instituted to tie together the Joint Staff and other offices in the Pentagon. When the day ended around 8 P.M., Charlie and I walked across the Pentagon’s big plateau-size parking lot to his car, drove home, ate, and did it again the next day. But as busy as we were, I was home with Annie.