Exonerated on Battlefield, Shafted by Headquarters

By Ed Offley

Why have their Army superiors attempted to destroy the careers of two soldiers who by all accounts served effectively and honorably in Afghanistan under the most dangerous of conditions?

It is a question whose answer two senior members of the 710th Ordnance Co. have been searching for these past 10 weeks.

The story is not very complicated, but its implications are disturbing: Last November, Capt. Keith Nelson and 1st Sgt. Kevin L. Albritton deployed the San Diego-based 710th Ordnance Co. - a component of the Fort Lewis-based 3rd Ordnance Battalion - in support of Operation Enduring Freedom, where over the next seven months the 17-man explosive ordnance disposal unit located, neutralized and destroyed over 200 tons of ammunition and ordnance.

The dangers of that mission were underscored on Feb. 12, 2002, when on a survey mission to one ammunition site, Capt. Nelson stepped on a projectile fuse that detonated, forcing his medical evacuation with a serious foot injury (he would recover and return to the unit in early April). And on Apr. 15, 2002, three of the EOD unit's members and a fourth American soldier were killed, and a fifth injured, when an explosion ripped through a booby-trapped cache of several hundred Chinese 107-mm. artillery rockets that they were preparing for disposal.

Praised by their superiors for excellent performance, and formally exonerated by an Army Safety Board investigation that found the fatal explosion the result of "combat action," the unit returned to its base in San Diego in early June grieving their lost comrades but satisfied that they had carried out their duties honorably and well.

Then the bombshell: Col. Kathleen Meehan, commander of the 52nd Ordnance Group based at Fort Gillem, Ga., announced her intention to relieve Nelson and Albritton from their command positions, using an administrative (rather than judicial) procedure that offered the two soldiers neither due process nor even a detailed explanation for the drastic action. Since then, the two men have lingered in an administrative limbo.

Albritton bitterly wrote one acquaintance early last month, "I expected to be busy right now recovering my unit and preparing it to reassume its peacetime mission, but instead it seems I will be busy fighting to salvage the careers of my commander … and myself."

Nelson and Albritton agreed to discuss their situation in general with DefenseWatch, but declined to go into detail since they are appealing the notice of relief through their chain of command.

However, in e-mails sent to fellow Army soldiers discussing the situation (which were subsequently provided to DefenseWatch), both men have expressed anger and bafflement that they weren't even been given a specific reason why the group commander wanted them fired. Indeed, several days before the fatal explosion, Meehan visited the 710th Company soldiers in Afghanistan and personally pinned the Purple Heart medal on Nelson's chest, while praising the unit for its performance.

Albritton said he was privately told by a senior NCO in the 52nd Ordnance Group that he and Nelson were being relieved for "indiscipline." But again, neither Meehan nor the command sergeant-major would provide neither specifications nor detailed reasons until a formal hearing last week. Efforts to contact Meehan through Army channels were unsuccessful.

Sources close to the two soldiers say the most likely reason for Meehan's move is because of her reaction to the fatal ammunition explosion - even though the Army field investigation cleared them of any culpability or wrongdoing.

Nelson in one e-mail voiced his anger to a friend over Col. Meehan's behavior.

"She personally pinned the Purple Heart on me," Nelson wrote. "She told the unit and myself how pleased she was of the work we were doing and how proud she was of us. She was genuinely surprised by how high morale was, and that we had literally had no complaints. It was a very pleasant visit and no issues were presented to me by her."

Nelson went on, "If I am unfit for command, than why was the First Sergeant and I not relieved of command during her visit or by the chain of command in Afghanistan?"

The only potential issue relating to Nelson and Albritton's supervisory responsibilities stemming from the blast - which the field investigation apparently dismissed - was that several of the soldiers involved in moving the ammunition had violated Army safety regulations by removing their kevlar body armor while lifting and carrying the unfused Chinese ordnance. However, soldiers familiar with the incident flatly stated that none of those killed would have survived even if they had been wearing the kevlar.

Albritton wrote a colleague in an email obtained by DefenseWatch, "When our boys were killed, they weren't wearing their flak [vests] or helmets. They knew they were supposed to, but didn't. But it would have made no difference. If they had worn it they would still be dead."

One procedural issue that concerns the two soldiers, according to their friends, is that Col. Meehan and the 52nd Ordnance Group did not have operational control or supervise the 710th Ordnance Co. at the time of the accident.

From the time the 710th Ordnance Co. deployed overseas, it was under the OPCON (operational control) of other Army units operating in the region. Upon arriving in Jacobobad, Pakistan, to support the 3rd Brigade, 101st Airborne Division as part of its force protection package, the company found that an Air Force EOD unit was already in place. So after conferring with Army Forces Central Command officials, the 710th was moved to Karshi-Khanibad, Uzbekistan, to support the Joint Special Operations Task Force - North (Army Special Forces and Defense Intelligence Agency specialists) who were scouring Afghanistan for evidence of chemical or biological weapons in the hands of al Qaeda or the Taliban.

By late January 2002, the company moved to Kandahar to support the 101st Airborne Division's "Task Force Rakkasan," with duties including disposal of uncontrolled ammunition caches in the area (teams from the 710th had already been operating in Kandahar itself supporting the 5th Special Forces Group A-Teams in the city).

The subsequent administrative relief ordered by Col. Meehan, friends of the two men say, appears to be a way that the colonel could take action against the captain and 1st sergeant without having to establish and prove wrongdoing or face the test of cross-examination as in a judicial proceeding under the Uniform Code of Military Justice.

Albritton told one friend that he and his captain have "wracked our brains" trying to identify any action in Afghanistan that could have prompted Meehan's decision to relieve them. "The part that sticks in my craw is that we were informed [by Meehan] our relief had nothing to do with the deaths of our soldiers. If not, what does it have to do with?"

Nelson wrote another colleague, "No reason was given for my removal, although I do think it is because of the deaths."

In a lengthy letter to a friend, Albritton noted that the rapid arrival of new units and frequent reassignment of OPCON inevitably caused some frictions, but there was no major misunderstanding or crisis as they changed operating areas and reported to new bosses.

"Having two masters took some getting used to," Albritton wrote one friend. "But the issue was worked out and relations gradually improved."

The only other potential flap occurred when officers in the 79th Ordnance Battalion announced they wanted to evict a Navy EOD unit working alongside the 710th Ordnance Co. in Kandahar - a development that occurred while Nelson was on convalescent leave for his injuries. The battalion had designated a sister unit, the 53rd Ordnance Co. as the Navy replacement. The acting commander, a lieutenant from the 79th Ordnance Battalion, wanted to keep the Navy EOD technicians, since they had already bonded as a team and felt replacing them would complicate command and control issues. However, the battalion had its way and the Navy was "sent packing," Albritton said.

But Nelson told friends that even that was a minor issue that did not affect the quality of work in the field. "It no way affected us at our level," Nelson said. "We were all in EOD and were all working to achieve the same mission."

After months of waiting, Nelson and Albritton were formally summoned to Fort Gillem on July 30 where they were informed in writing that they were to be relieved of their duties for, in Albritton's words, "willfully disobeying orders, not disciplining … soldiers, not complying with directives unless forced, not enforcing standards, not rallying [the] unit after the loss on April 15th, basically allowing my solders to run rampant."

The infractions included incidents where EOD soldiers failed to wear full flak gear; one soldier who needed a haircut; and several company members who had failed to replace unit patches that had earlier been removed as a security requirement, and improper arrangement of unit living spaces. Albritton was stunned to read that Meehan cited the Army Safety Board report in her notification, since Army regulations dictate that safety investigation findings can never be used to discipline personnel involved.

The two soldiers have appealed the administrative action to Maj. Gen. Julian H. Burns, the deputy chief of staff for operations of U.S. Army Forces Command. A Forces Command spokesman did not respond to queries from DefenseWatch regarding the incident.

Footnote: Maj. Gen. Burns has ordered an investigation under Army Regulation 15-6 into the incident to include a determination whether or not there was proper cause for relief of the two soldiers. Nelson and Albritton tell friends they remain optimistic that the Army chain of command will give them a full and fair treatment.

Ed Offley is Editor of DefenseWatch. He can be reached at dweditor@yahoo.com.

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A Military 'Lesson Unlearned' As We Fight Terrorists

First of Two Parts

By Gary R. Stahlhut

History is much more important to the U.S. Army than just another subject to learn in school. While the tactics and technology of warfare continuously change, the human beings in charge tend to repeat many of the same mistakes that their predecessors made.

We stand at the beginning of a new century, fighting a very unconventional war, but still using a very conventional Army to fight it. The United States has proved to be unbeatable in wars against an enemy who fights by the same rules of land warfare as we do - history bears witness to this fact. During the last century, we also found that we did not fare so well fighting wars in which we needed to apply unconventional means to defeat an enemy who played by another set of rules altogether.

One military history lesson from nearly 250 years ago holds the gravest significance for this nation and its armed services as we continue to wage war against a truly unconventional enemy - the al Qaeda terrorist network. It is the unintended consequences of our own arrogance.

Prior to the Revolutionary War, the colony of Virginia laid claim to its northwest frontier along the natural boundaries of the Ohio River. The French Colonies of New France, knowing the area was also of strategic importance, also laid claim to this same area. In 1754, the Virginia House of Burgesses ordered that a fort be erected where the Allegheny River and the Monongahela River joined to create the Ohio River.

A wealthy Virginia plantation owner, Maj. George Washington, was promoted to lieutenant colonel and placed in command of 200 Virginia Commonwealth troops. Washington was more than a military officer; he had surveyed and mapped much of the northwest boundaries of the Commonwealth and understood this rugged unimproved land.

It was on his recommendation that the site of the modern city of Pittsburgh be chosen as the place to build this fort. By late May 1754, Lt. Col. Washington had moved within forty miles of his objective, only to find that a large French force had already occupied this vital river junction and built Fort Duquesne on the site. After a skirmish with a French patrol operating from Fort Duquesne, Washington fell back to an open plain, built a defensive stockade and named it Fort Necessity.

On July 3, 1754, 600 French soldiers and 300 Indians attacked Fort Necessity. Washington, whose force was greatly out-numbered, agreed to surrender the fort after exhausting most of his ammunition and gunpowder.

The Battle Of Fort Necessity touched off what was later called the French and Indian War. With the defeat of Washington's expedition and the occupation of what is now western Pennsylvania by the French and their Indian allies, the British - who were not yet enemies of the American colonists - decided to mount a full-scale operation to seize Fort Duquesne and destroy any French military formations operating in the area. Appointed commander of the force was Maj. Gen. Edward Braddock, 59, a career British soldier who had served in uniform since joining the elite Coldstream Guards regiment at the age of 15.

George Washington was appointed chief surveyor for the operation, tasked with the mission to scout out the routes of advance for Braddock's force. While Braddock was assembling a force of 1,400 British soldiers and 450 Virginia militiamen at his logistical base at Cumberland, Md., Washington attempted to explain to the general how the French and Indians would fight him - having learned this through his own bitter experience the year before.

But Braddock's supreme confidence - arrogance, actually - would persuade him not to change or modify his tactics. Why should he? He commanded well-trained and disciplined redcoats, with a force that was superior in numbers, equipment and firepower. He looked down on the French and Indian force as an unwashed, unenlightened rabble who would be easily driven from the field. Braddock was also disinclined to take the advice of his "colonial" allies.

So in June 1755, Braddock set out to fight a very conventional battle, laying siege to the enemy at Fort Duquesne and reducing it with his superior firepower.

Braddock's advance was cautious, methodical and well scripted. His attack proceeded employing the finest European style and tactics of land warfare. As he advanced, British engineers methodically built a 12-foot-wide road hacked out of the virgin forest to become the main avenue of advance for his force. What is now referred to as "Braddock's Road," was widened and surfaced to accommodate his massive supply trains and his siege artillery, which consisted consisting of batteries of 12-pound and 6-pound cannon, four 8-inch howitzers and fifteen mortars.

How could Braddock fail? After all, he was doing everything according to plan, according to the military doctrine he was comfortable with.

By July 7, Braddock's army had reached the Monongahela River about ten miles from Fort Duquesne. French-Indian scouts reported Braddock's movements to the French commander, Captain Lienard de Beaujeu. Captain Beaujeu was a savvy frontier commander who understood frontier warfare, as well as the strengths of his Indian allies.

Aware that he was outnumbered over two-to-one and with no artillery, Beaujeu knew that he could not defeat Braddock's professional army in open battle. So he decided to intercept and ambush Braddock's column before they reached Fort Duquesne. Six hundred French and Indians marched to the banks of the Monongahela, concealed themselves in dense ravines along the river and waited for Braddock to arrive.

On the morning of July 9, with a regimental band playing, the British redcoats stepped out to cross the Monongahela on their advance to seize Fort Duquesne. The British advance guard forded the river, but before they could secure the far riverbank, the French and Indian force opened fire. The British officers ordered the redcoats to form battle lines to fight their attackers, but they could not see their enemy.

The French force was hidden deep in thickets and firing from concealed positions along the ridgelines overlooking the river crossing. As bullets continued to tear into them, the British advance party was soon driven back into the main body of the army, which had advanced to meet and close with the French.

Unlike the British troops, George Washington and his "colonials" took cover during the battle. British officers admonished Washington and his men for not fighting in the open even as the French and Indian rifle fire continued to cut down the redcoats. Using hatchets and tomahawks, the French and Indians then attacked from out of the forest, killing the British troops at close quarter.

Gen. Braddock had four horses shot out from under him and was eventually killed trying to rally his panicked troops. One account of the battle reported that Braddock was heard shouting at the French and Indians to "come out and fight like civilized men."

But at the end of the day, it was the uncivilized savages who routed the professional army, and it was the mere "colonial" George Washington who survived and brought the news of the disaster back to Virginia.

History had judged this event as a major defeat for the British, but even so, the British were slow to learn from Braddock's mistake. The French and Indian War continued for another seven years, with France eventually losing its North American possessions in 1763. But the British Army continued to embrace conventional warfare tactics in its bid to quell the American colonial rebellion a dozen years later.

But the Americans embraced the "lessons learned" from Braddock's arrogance at Fort Duquesne. Colonial military leaders such as Capt. Robert Rogers formed Ranger units that used similar guerrilla tactics as the French and Indians, with great success. Washington himself also would use his experiences from the French and Indian War to shape the strategy and tactics of the Continental Army during the American Revolution.

After the loss of Charleston and Savannah to the British and the disastrous defeat at the Battle of Camden in 1780, the Southern Colonial Army under command of General Horatio Gates was near collapse. Gen. George Washington dispatched Maj. Gen. Nathaniel Greene to assume command of the shattered Southern army.

Greene quickly reorganized and rebuilt the colonial forces in the south, devising a strategy of retreat into North Carolina and extending Lord Gen. Cornwallis's supply lines far away from British supply bases. Raiding British supply lines using guerilla tactics and attacking the British only when a tactical superiority could be achieved, Greene succeeded in dividing the British forces, leading to the victory at the Battle of Cowpens in January 1781. Within eight months, Greene freed most of the Carolinas from British control and forced Lord Cornwallis to retreat to Yorktown.

In the ongoing war to root out terrorism, we too must adapt our tactics and methods to fight an enemy who may be technologically inferior to us, but still remains a very deadly and innovative opponent. The U.S. military should pay close attention to its own institutional arrogance.

Upon finishing Steel My Soldiers Hearts, Col. David Hackworth's memoir of reshaping his battalion's tactics to successfully fight the Viet Cong in Vietnam in 1969, I was once again amazed at how the U.S. Army writes volumes of "lessons learned" reports regarding unconventional warfare, but applies very little of these lessons in training its own soldiers.

Perhaps like General Braddock, our own arrogance blinds us to the reality of the guerilla and terrorist enemy we face. The enemies of the 21st century will not accommodate us and fight us where and how we want them to fight us.

Increasing the size of a headquarters, ordering more technology, micromanaging an operation, or applying more firepower will not make up for insufficient training or the application of improper tactics.

For us to benefit from the "lessons learned" of 9/11 and combat in Afghanistan, we must not simply study our successes and mistakes in fighting prior guerilla wars, terrorist groups or insurgencies. We must apply what we learn to formulate tactics to fight these enemy warriors in their own environment. We cannot afford to blunder into repeating the mistakes because once again we failed to learn the lessons of our own history.

Next: A profile of the enemy warrior of the 21st century.

Gary R. Stalhut is an Army Reserve officer and combat veteran with 26 years of active and reserve duty. He can be reached at Gary.R.Stahlhut@eudoramail.com.

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Doing It Right - A Lesson From 9/11

By Robert G. Williscroft

Many of my DefenseWatch articles aim to make a point, to correct a wrong, or to poke away at some bureaucratic stupidity. Today, I wish to tell you a story of how a group of guys did it right, the first time, under some pretty difficult circumstances.

It was the morning of Sept. 11, 2001, off the coast of Alaska. The twin World Trade Center Towers had been hit. America was tottering towards a war footing without fully comprehending what or why. Across the continent, civilian aircraft were grounded. The skies above our cities were filled with an eerie silence punctuated by the whine of fighter jet engines crisscrossing overhead.

We were scared, and our fighter pilots were nervous and trigger-happy. They weren't about to let another plane crash into another landmark. The guys on the west coast had not experienced anything first-hand, but they weren't taking any chances.

This was the general scene when Korean Air Flight 85 first approached U.S. airspace in preparation for a refueling stop in Anchorage on its way to New York.

Like pilots everywhere, the pilots of KA Flight 85 were horrified at what had happened, and were trying to get more information from their headquarters. Typically, this kind of communications takes place using a teletype-like system. Conversation is typed, leaving a hard copy record. A Maryland firm, ARINC, collects these text messages and relays them from and to aircraft everywhere.

No one has been allowed to interview the pilots themselves, but according to Alan Levin of USA Today, the pilots had been talking with their Seoul headquarters that morning. Like everyone else, they wanted to know more about the disaster. In the normal process of their communications, they used the letters "HJK" as a shortcut in their query message for the word, "hijacking." However, the ARINC computers are programmed to pick up these letters which pilots are instructed to insert into their messages when they have actually been hijacked.

The pilots of the Seoul-to-New York Boeing 747 carrying 215 passengers did not intend to signal that they had been hijacked, according to Korean Air's operations chief, David Greenberg, but this is exactly what they did.

Obviously, ARINC officials assumed the message was a coded plea for help, especially in light of what had just happened shortly before in New York, Washington and Pennsylvania. ARINC immediately contacted the Federal Aviation Administration, which notified Anchorage controllers and the North American Aerospace Defense Command (NORAD).

You know what happened next!

Although KA Flight 85 was still over the North Pacific hundreds of miles from Alaska, and had not actually transmitted a distress, NORAD was taking no chances. Fully armed jet fighters from Elmendorf Air Force Base scrambled into the sky to shadow KA Flight 85 from behind. Those onboard the aircraft remained unaware of their deadly escort.

The Korean jet reached Anchorage airspace about an hour after the skies in the rest of the Lower 48 had been cleared of all civilian aircraft. Controllers queried the pilots about their condition using codes especially created for this kind of circumstance. Pilots and controllers receive routine training in using these codes. Essentially, when a pilot receives such a query, if he has been hijacked, he sets his transponder to transmit the number 7500, which reads out on controller screens everywhere marking it as a hijacked aircraft.

Communications between civilian pilots and controllers had been tense ever since the first tower attack. Things on Korean Air flight 85 were no different. Perhaps the pilots simply misunderstood the controller's order, but in any case, for whatever reason, KA Flight 85 made a second mistake: They began transponding the hijack signal, 7500.

If you missed the first clue, you can have no doubt what happened next!

Alaska Gov. Tony Knowles immediately evacuated the large hotels and federal buildings in Anchorage. The Coast Guard ordered tankers loading oil from the Valdez Trans-Alaska pipeline terminal to depart immediately for the open ocean.

Then, according to Levin, NORAD ordered controllers to veer KA Flight 85 away from Anchorage, Valdez and the pipeline. Furthermore, Lt. Gen. Norton Schwartz, who commanded the NORAD section watching this flight, was determined to shoot down the flight if it did not change course.

Discretion being the better part of valor, the Korean Air pilots decided to comply with controllers' orders - fortunately, in light of Schwartz's determination.

After checking with Canadian officials, which apparently was a routine matter, NORAD ordered Flight 85 to land at Whitehorse, over 500 miles further away in the Yukon Territory.

You must have the pattern down by now.

Canadian officials evacuated all but the most necessary airport personnel for the landing of Korean Air Flight 85. Wouldn't you? The flight still indicated with every response that it was hijacked: Controller radar screens read, 7500 … 7500 … 7500 ….

The airliner landed without mishap. You can imagine the astonishment of the pilots when they were greeted at gunpoint upon disembarking. The passengers were a little upset as well.

In retrospect, everybody did exactly what they should have done. Once the "secret" signal was received at ARINC, everything that followed was proper: shadow the plane, determine its "actual" hijack status, divert the plane, evacuate the area - and shoot if you must.

They did it right - and I'm damn proud of them!

Robert G. Williscroft is DefenseWatch Navy Editor. He can be reached at dwnavyeditor@argee.net.

Why Are Idiots Manning Airport Security?

By J. David Galland

At the Los Angeles International Airport, last week, a G.I. Joe doll in a woman's hand-carried luggage caused a security alert. The doll was found to be in the possession of a three-inch long plastic machine gun.

G.I. Joe was disarmed and his plastic widow-maker was impounded. The icon of armed militaristic aggression, generally classified as a child's toy by some, was then stuffed into the checked baggage as punishment.

The owner of the G.I. Joe doll is Mrs. Judy Powell, who is a British citizen. She had purchased the toy in Las Vegas and made the mistake of packing "Joe" in a hand-carry piece of luggage. Her next big mistake was trying to get through security with a heavily armed doll, inside the carry-on, dressed in full battle gear.

Airport security screeners, however, detected the ageless fighter and took action that they apparently, genuinely believed was in keeping with their mandate of protecting people in the airplane and in the airport.

Later, Ms Powell was quoted as saying "I was simply stunned when I realized that the security people were serious." She added, "But then I saw the funny side of it and thought this was simple lunacy".

I agree that it is lunacy, but I cannot concur with her description of the incident as "funny" - not at all! In fact, this latest incident is part of an emerging repertoire of airport security screener screw-ups and nonsensical actions that actually should cause us all to question the federal government's collective sanity.

Contacted by the British Broadcasting Company to comment on the incident, a LAX airport security division spokesman declared, "We have instructions to confiscate anything that looks like a weapon or a replica," even if it is only 3 inches in length.

During the course of looking into LAX security procedures, I stumbled upon even more troubling information than the G.I. Joe incident.

It seems that Immigration and Naturalization Service agents have been instructed to not do their jobs at the same airport. Michael Cochran, who is the INS "Port Director" at LAX, our nation's third-busiest airport, issued a policy memorandum on Feb. 12, 2002 that I have obtained.

His memo enlightened INS inspectors as to what their duties don't include while on duty at LAX. The armed federal agents, who are graduates of 18 weeks of law enforcement training academy in Georgia, were instructed to "not respond to calls from airlines requesting that we examine the documents of suspected illegal aliens." Cochran further ordered, "If something 'special' does come up - i.e., suspected terrorists, kidnapping, slavery or other - we should not go and arrest groups of people."

When foreign nationals enter the United States by conventional means, INS inspectors are the first officers representing the U.S. government that aliens encounter. Let's shoot straight here: That makes them the first line of defense against foreigners entering our country who have "less than amicable" intentions in mind.

But the INS must think otherwise. Is there any end to this idiocy?

No. If you are still not convinced, let's take a look at the fate of Fred Hubbell, an 80-year-old World War II American war veteran, who got thrown into the hoosegow for talking when he passed through Bradley International Airport near Hartford, Conn. Hubbell was handcuffed, searched, hustled out of the airport and imprisoned.

Apparently, near the end of a second consecutive head to toe pat-down search, that he and his wife were subjected to, Hubbell noticed one of the screeners intently poking through his wallet. Hubbell asked, "What do you expect to find in there, a rifle?"

For that outlandish behavior, Hubbell was arrested and charged with creating a "public disturbance." Apparently, Hubbell had not been briefed as to what words he may and may not speak in public.

Just last week, a number of female travelers complained that security-screening personnel at the Raleigh-Durham International Airport deliberately groped them, which constituted sexual harassment. So they, too, join the long list of the aggrieved at the hands of airport security personnel.

At Phoenix's Sky Harbor Airport, at least 32 female travelers complained that they were fondled and groped inappropriately in recent weeks.

The Phoenix airport is the location where Joe Foss, the World War II flying ace, Medal of Honor Winner and former South Dakota governor, was accosted because he had his Medal of Honor in his pocket and it looked potentially dangerous (the star points on the medallion, maybe?) The security screeners had no idea what a Medal of Honor was and queried Foss. He was also relieved of a pair of nail clippers before he boarded his flight.

In December 2001, only three months after the 9/11 attacks on America, Joseph Farah penned an article entitled "Whatever Happened To Common Sense?" Mr. Farah is the gifted well-known editor and chief of the news and information organization, WorldNetDaily (www.worldnetdaily.com).

In his article, Farah described the manhandling that his air-traveled-experienced 15- and 9-year old daughters received during the initial leg of a journey after he had dropped them off at the airport.

The two girls passed through metal detectors with no problems. Then his older daughter was told to remove her belt. Next, she was the object of a full body pat down search. She was then told to roll up her shirtsleeves for inspection, which graduated to her being instructed to roll up her shirt from the waistline to expose her stomach. Next, she was instructed to unbutton her pants and roll them down below the beltline for another inspection. All the while, the 9-year old daughter was watching her older sister being inspected, poked, and prodded in public as if she were a known felon.

Notwithstanding the need to implement a level of security that is calculated and appropriate in response to the threat, when was the last time two juvenile females under the age of 16 attempted to hijack an airplane in America?

Now, if all this is not enough to make you wonder who stole Captain Queeg's strawberries, try this on for size: Two weeks ago, one of my brothers, who is a retired police chief and college professor in his mid 50s, flew to Philadelphia from Portland, Maine. The trip was for pleasure in order to visit his son, who is an FBI agent.

While at the airport in Portland, he was held up at security screening. He stood for eleven minutes in his stocking feet while two of the professionals on duty closely examined his Bostonian loafers. Eventually, they managed to pry up the glued-fast inner lining of the shoes, which bore the manufacturer's label. While waiting for his shoes to be inspected, three Somali women, dressed in colorful aristocratic flowing Somali colors and style, strode past security without any semblance of a body or personal property inspection.

Bottom line, this is out of control. We urgently need fast action to staff our airports with competent screeners, not the boobs who are wreaking havoc now. Homeland security is a critically important business and it must be taken seriously.

What is so hard about hiring intelligent adults who can act, speak and think logically?

This just in: Federal airport screeners at Central Wisconsin Airport in Mosinee, Wis., confiscated the G..I. Joe doll that 9-year-old Ryan Scott had put in his carry-on baggage. When his mother complained to the screener, she was searched as well.

J. David Galland, Deputy Editor of DefenseWatch, is a retired veteran of over thirty years of service in military intelligence who resides in Germany. He can be reached at defensewatch02@yahoo.com.

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A Simple Ceremony That Refreshed a Warrior's Spirit

By Matthew Dodd

As a Marine Corps officer serving in a world of incessant change, near-instantaneous technological transformation and stark uncertainty, I find deep comfort by occasionally immersing myself in the deliberately slow pace of traditional military ceremonies.

I recently found such an experience to be personally rejuvenating and spiritually renewing. It was a recent change-of-command ceremony that involved two longtime Marine Corps friends.

The change of command is a time-honored tradition that formally restates to the assembled Marines of the unit the continuity of the authority of command. The change-of-command ceremony is unique in the world today. It marks the transfer of total responsibility, authority and accountability from one individual to another.

The ceremony is repeated, but never truly duplicated, as the times and people involved change. But the traditions, handed down through the years, remain largely unaltered by the changing circumstances and people.

The morning was crisp and clear, much more pleasant than the sweltering heat that I had expected in the weeks leading up to the event. Ceremonial music from a Marine band set the proper parade mood for all participants and gathered guests. Flags, bleacher seats that flanked a centered reviewing stand with assigned formal seating, and a small podium with a narrator's microphone adorned the field, upon which the command neatly marched and formed on-line as the ceremony began.

Following some preliminary drill movements to adjust each unit's positions, the narrator asked the crowd to stand as the color guard posted the colors for appropriate honors. Next, the color guard returned to its assigned place in the formation, and the chaplain offered his benediction to the ultimate Commander.

Next came the flawless demonstration of the traditional manual-of-arms with the service rifles, an ancient ritual that showcased the soldierly skills of the Marines in the command. The unit commanders then reported their unit's status and accounted for all the Marines under their charge.

On order, the narrator then read the next higher command's orders that relieved the outgoing commander and assigned the incoming commander to his new post.

Upon the formal posting of those orders, the band struck up a new song and the officers of the command, accompanied by their guidon bearers, marched en masse up the center of the field to be received by the commander of troops (the unit's executive officer). This symbolic movement recalls the days when the commander would assemble his officers before a battle to issue detailed instructions. When the commander of troops returned the salute of the massed officers and guidons, the officers faced about and marched back to their assigned locations in front of their units. The band stopped playing when the last officer was back in position.

Then, the command's staff positioned itself before the reviewing stand, and the outgoing and incoming commanders left their seats in the reviewing stand to take their positions on the field. The outgoing commander stood on the right, which is the traditional place of honor, with the incoming commander to his left.

On order, the command sergeant-major, the senior enlisted Marine in the command, retrieved and handed the unit's colors to the outgoing commander. The narrator then asked the audience to stand for the passing of the colors from the outgoing to incoming commander. This symbolic gesture confirmed the incoming commander's acceptance of his commitments to the Marines of the command. When the sergeant-major returned the colors to the color guard, the two commanders faced each other, exchanged salutes, and symbolically swapped positions, passing each other right shoulder to right shoulder.

The narrator next introduced the reviewing officer for the parade, the unit commanders' direct superior officer. On order, the new commander took his seat as the old commander reported to the reviewing officer to receive an award for his service. Drill movements positioned the staff and colors and the narrator directed the audience to rise for the playing of the National Anthem. After the music ended, the reviewing officer presented the old commander his award as the narrator read the award citation.

The new commander returned to his position to join the old commander and reviewing officer on the field. The reviewing officer was given the microphone to deliver his appropriate farewell and welcoming remarks to the old and new commanders, respectively. Next to speak was the old commander. Last to speak was the new commander.

In their remarks, each commander gave his thanks to the guests, the troops, key personnel and their families for their efforts and support. Usually, the reviewing officer and the new commander's remarks are short, out of respect for the moment for the old commander, whose remarks are normally noticeably longer and more personal in tone. To mark the end of these speeches, members of the unit presented flowers to the old and new commanders' special ladies present (wives, mother and sisters).

When the two commanders and reviewing officer were back in their proper positions, the new commander gave the order to the commander of troops, "March the command in review!" The band played an appropriate parade march and every unit present on the field took their turn marching before the reviewing officer and the two commanders. As the units passed the reviewing officer and the two commanders, they executed "Eyes, Right" as a sign of respect to the three officers reviewing the command.

When the last unit finished its pass-in-review, the band played the opening verse of, "Anchors Aweigh" in honor of our naval heritage. Immediately following the last note of "Anchor's Aweigh," the band increased its pitch and broke into its final song. This song causes Marines in every clime and place to stand at rigid attention whenever it is heard. "The Marines' Hymn," all three verses, reminds each of us just how proud we are to claim the title of United States Marine.

As the final blissful note faded into the beautiful morning sky, the narrator informed everyone of what we all knew, but I did not want to hear: the ceremony was complete, and everyone was invited to the reception at the officers' club.

Of course, to any military man or woman, such an event is hardly newsworthy. And to the jaded and cynical press corps, a change-of-command ceremony is decidedly a non-news story.

This change-of-command for me, was a first, in that for the first time in my seventeen-plus year career, I personally knew both the outgoing and incoming commanders. Usually, I would know only one, or none. Because of that deeper personal connection I found myself carefully listening as each of my friends uttered their remarks. Rehearsed and polished they were, but the two short speeches were rich in heartfelt praise, hope, love and gratitude. This moment belonged to them and they certainly rose to the occasion.

It was an unexpected gift I did not anticipate that beautiful summer morning. Something so familiar that it had frequently lost its meaning to me had suddenly become a profound and resonating reaffirmation of my own commitment and creed. My "change-of-command ceremony speech cynicism" vanished forever on that parade field.

May God bless the United States Marine Corps, and may long live its traditions and ceremonies.

Contributing Editor Lt. Col. Matthew Dodd is the pen name of an active-duty Marine Corps officer stationed at the Pentagon. He can be reached at mattdodd1775@hotmail.com.

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Saddam Tries to Divide Bush and Blair

By Andrea West

The pieces are falling into place around Iraq: the United States has begun staging troops to various places around the Middle East, the State and Defense Departments have met with various Iraqi government-in-exile groups, and Gen. Tommy Franks has indicated that Saddam could be thrown out with only 50,000-80,000 troops (in contrast to the 250,000 the Pentagon originally estimated).

As an added bonus, Gen. Franks believes that these troops could be assembled in the area within two weeks, as opposed to the three months originally thought necessary. Strong indications are that the hammer is about to drop on Saddam.

It's time to take the temperature of our closest ally in this fight.

British Prime Minister Tony Blair, despite his bold words after Sept. 11, is having difficulties in his own Labour party. Labour MP George Galloway paid a visit to Saddam Hussein in Baghdad on July 7, emerging from the meeting with the news that the Iraqi dictator had invoked Winston Churchill.

The London Daily Telegraph on July 8 quoted Saddam as saying, "What became of the Britain of Winston Churchill?" The Iraqi dictator added, "We don't know why you [Britain] turned against us more than any other European country." Galloway told the BBC's Channel 4 News that Saddam is "stable, rational, logical, knows that we stand on the brink of something terrible, would like to avoid it, and therefore is a man that we can do business with."

Americans will perhaps remember MP Galloway as the man who, after Sept 11, said: "People will consider the US to have had to swallow its own medicine." It should also be noted that in the 1980s, Galloway was one of the first MPs to shake hands with Sinn Fein leader Gerry Adams, according to the Telegraph. He has also made himself agreeable to Fidel Castro and Yasser Arafat.

But what, exactly, are we to make of all this commentary about Iraq? It would seem that Saddam is trying to turn the prime minister's own party against him. The invocation of Britain as a European country, especially to an MP whose party favors strong European integration, was a stroke of political genius.

Hussein obviously hopes that by undermining confidence in Tony Blair's government, he will persuade him to abandon his commitment to the United States. The reasoning is that Blair will be unwilling to risk losing his support base at the ballot box or to risk a vote of no confidence by continuing to support the United States in its anticipated invasion of Iraq.

The Telegraph commissioned a survey to determine British support for military action in Iraq, which found that 40 percent of the poll's respondents said that they had not much confidence in President Bush's judgment in the Iraq matter, while 28 percent said they had none at all. By comparison, a July 16 Zogby poll of President Bush's handling of the Middle East crisis shows a high approval rating among Americans: 26 percent excellent, 32 percent good, 22 percent fair, and only 16 percent poor with 2 percent not sure.

The Telegraph went on to reveal that Maurice Fitzpatrick, head of economics at the professional services group Tenon, said that military action might deter economic growth. Fitzpatrick does not indicate what the economic effect of future terrorist attacks might be in the event that military action is not taken.

If the undermining effort is successful, we might be going in to Iraq without Great Britain, which simultaneously would make the United States look like a maverick and give the moral win to Saddam. It also allows the Eurocrats to tch-tch about American "cowboy diplomacy," while simultaneously enjoying the fruits of American blood spent ridding the world of Saddam.

Unless, of course, Tony Blair upsets the apple cart and sticks with his American friends.

Andrea West is DefenseWatch Veterans editor. She can be reached at defensewatchvet@yahoo.com.

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