Iraq War Pre-Surge: my View

[January 16, 2026]  In a few months, it will be twenty years since I arrived for my second combat tour, part of the Iraq War (2003-2011).  Such a time past gives me time to reflect, and despite some details being lost to old memories, I think I can put the war in a better light.  And with less emotional attachment.  Considering that I also had a third combat tour in 2010-2011 and have read much more about the war, I am now much better at thinking more clearly and cleanly.  Many who I know ask me about the war, and the most common question is whether the war was worth the cost in lives and treasure.  The answer is complex, but yes, I think it was worth it.  I’ll attempt to break that down at some point for better clarity.  One example is that we quickly discovered which nations were willing to commit to and stand with the freedom of the Iraqi people, and which would not.  It is good to know who your friends are and who cannot be counted on when the going gets tough.

Did we win (from America’s perspective)? Regarding the war, I think this is the wrong question. “Winning” the war was never the goal, for good or bad. While there was a mission, and later some mission creep as the war dragged on, we would modify our goals in Iraq. The original goal, as I understood it and as many Americans were told, was to prevent Saddam Hussein from exporting terrorism to the West and to punish him for invading Kuwait. WMD proliferation was a stated goal, but it was part of the fear that Saddam could develop a nuclear or chemical weapon and either use it or give it to Islamic radicals to use as a form of WMD terror against Israel or America. Again, this was terrorism. The WMD rationale was credible. We know Saddam used chemical weapons against the Iranians in that war and against the Kurds in northern Iraq. We also knew that Saddam had an advanced nuclear research program at the Tuwaitha Nuclear Research Center (where the French-built reactor Osirak was destroyed by Israel in 1981). America’s solution to prevent the export of terrorism, including WMD terrorism, was to 1.) get rid of Saddam, 2.) change his government into a democratic one, and 3.) hunt for any WMD and remove or destroy them.  

Did we achieve our goals in the Iraq War to rid the world of the Islamic terror threat inspired by Saddam Hussein? That is the right question, the “right” question because that is how the American people were sold on the war. Despite the confusion among the news media and so-called experts about the war and the claim that our goals would change only slightly, we all knew the key to success was preventing the proliferation of terrorism using our military. The Iraq War is an example of what happens when a country tries to export terrorism. Our American military strategy was to show the world that we will destroy you. The problem is that the threat did not work, and it didn’t work because we were using traditional Western logic, in which a country’s citizens’ lives and its economy matter. Islam and tyrannical governments are not based on that logic but on a deeper philosophy of achieving the greatness of that tyrannical government, where individual lives and the economy are subordinate, often just irrelevant, to move their corruption and malfeasance forward.

“Do you miss war?” A few years ago, long after my retirement, I was asked this by a high school student. The question rightly forced me to confront my conflicting ideas about war. My answer was simple. I missed the camaraderie of my unit, our intense shared experiences, and the devotion to one another. That emotion would drive me to go to the aid of a fallen comrade, regardless of the risk to myself. What I do not miss are all the bad parts of war. In my mind, I can still smell the stench of broken sewers, remember the deafening roar of artillery, the deaths of my friends, and the little children without parents. These are not what I miss about war. I believe camaraderie is formed by intense experiences, usually in difficult circumstances. Is the difference something deep in our psyche? Is it primordial? Frankly, I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter, because the emotional connection to comrades is more powerful than anything I’ve ever known. That “connection” is why one soldier will willingly risk his own life to save another. But unless you have the emotional bond of a soldier (or any military experience from intense hardship), it is impossible to fully explain.

Personally, there were some lessons.  I learned early in my first combat tour that I was not a coward; something that is learned only from direct experience in a life-threatening situation.  I was not overly concerned about it, but no one knows how one will react on their first contact with an enemy intent on killing you.  I also learned that I was much more than a competent Army Engineer and could retain my foresight in the tactical and operational employment of American military and civilian Engineer forces.  This was both complex and fraught with challenges that no one could predict in advance, and I didn’t know if I could keep this intellectual machine running without throwing a wrench into the works.  I learned that many major engineering problems often had no solution, or at least no reasonable solution.  Like the ticking time bomb of the Mosul Dam, a monolith in Iraq’s northern desert with the potential to bring death and destruction to millions downstream if it were to catastrophically fail.  And our Coalition headquarters in Baghdad was directly in the path of the floodwaters.  Also, I could work diligently to stay ahead of the Commander’s demands at the MNC-I staff (Corps, 3-star) level and later at the Army (4-star) level, effectively becoming the go-to Engineer for hard issues and answering questions or solving problems that had no answers or solutions.  This required creativity I didn’t know I possessed.  Sometimes all the answers and solutions are wrong, terribly wrong; the trick is choosing the least wrong, being creative, and knowing how to solve the political and military fallout.

Fear.  I had to confront this reality early.  I had already discovered that I was no coward.  But I also knew that I lacked something crucial to be a good Soldier.  I had no fear.  Lacking fear is a dangerous state of mind.  Those without fear can easily be deluded into making unreasonably risky decisions with consequences we would not want.  The danger of complacency from the lack of fear is hard to overcome.  One’s life and that of others you command or work alongside can be put into situations that could easily lead to severe wounds or death.  Fear must be managed as much as the lack of fear must be managed.  I think I succeeded in controlling my lack of fear, at least no one I was associated with died from anything I did or did not do because of it.  I’m also proud of the fact that no contractor (Iraqi or third-nation) was ever killed or severely injured on those projects designed or approved by us, due to the purposeful prevention methods we put into place.  Fear can be debilitating and devastatingly so.  I saw many who were overcome with fear, and how that led them to refusing to carry out their military duties.  On several occasions, I had to intervene, and it would get ugly, fast.  What do you tell a senior officer or mid-grade enlisted Soldier that they are a coward and are being relieved of duty, and sent home with that knowledge?  That is far more difficult than one might think.  You are sending someone home with the red “C” of cowardice symbolically emblazoned on their chest.

How did I overcome the many difficulties of being the senior Construction Engineer for the pre-Surge construction at MNC-I? Part of the answer is easy. I was not doing it alone. My first piece of business upon my arrival in Baghdad was to immediately begin establishing a large network of key players, not to get an update briefing like my team had expected. I visited all the major MNC-I C-staff senior colonels, “customers” (like the Garrison and large unit commanders), KBR, GRD, MNSTC-I, MNF-I, TF-134, etc., to let them know who I was (see my face) and that I was 100 percent available to them for whatever reason. If they asked me for anything, they would get it. I put all my trust and confidence in them; it worked well. I also insisted early on that I would travel to all the major unit locations, including the US Marines out in the West and Coalition partners (South Koreans, British, and Poles) in the North and South (at the ports). Slowly, I was able to build this into an integrated network that made it much easier to find help when I needed it, and there was far less animosity if I inadvertently stepped on some sensitive military toes. I cannot imagine how not doing this networking could work.

I would spend a full year in Iraq without a break. My decision was personal; leaving my family and friends was hard on me, harder on them. Better they didn’t see me for a short two weeks than go through the emotional turmoil of my departure. Another benefit was that I came home much tougher mentally and physically. My mental state is hard to describe, but one way to put it is that I had the opposite of PTSD. I had developed a tough mindset. Resilience, adaptability, and self-awareness. Strong mental health. Disciplined with a purpose. Confidence in my abilities. This is not bravery in combat but something more; it was a way of living that possesses its own inherent good. Combat can have a strengthening effect, and at the time, I gave it no thought. Plus, I was highly respected; my recommendations and opinions were sought after, and that attracted people. In combat, this is what being a good Soldier is all about. I think I can say that I was a good Soldier. 

NOTE: This is the last of the Iraq War Pre-Surge articles.

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Please read my books:

1. “55 Rules for a Good Life,” on Amazon (link here).
2. “Our Longest Year in Iraq,” on Amazon (link here).