Fixing Hell (28 page)
I talked with them about the quote from Colonel Banks as I was leaving Fort Bragg, North Carolina, for Abu Ghraib. Banks had told me, “Larry, remember people will do what their leaders allow them to do.” I explained that Morgan told me on many occasions that the rules had to be clear at all times. Unlike most psychologists, the colonel had served as a company commander of a forward-deployed unit in the first Gulf War back in 1990–91. He knew that a good leader has to set clear boundaries and that when any soldier crossed the line, it had to be dealt with immediately.
“This meant that if the infraction was not dealt with by the leaders, soldiers would continue to do it because it was allowed by the leaders in charge. And as a result, behavior would begin to slowly drift away from the SOP,” I said. “That’s a lot of what I found when I got to Abu Ghraib.”
“Sir,” Captain Schuster said, “isn’t that the same as a vision statement?”
“Heck no,” I said. “Look on the wall in our conference room and you’ll see the general’s vision for this hospital, but in that vision statement nothing is said about what important behaviors will and will not be tolerated. That’s the message that needs to get out to soldiers through meetings, handouts, small cards, e-mail postings, whatever you can think of to get it in front of them. More importantly for the soldiers, everyone in the command needs to know what’s not going to be tolerated—things like DUIs, sexual assault, and spouse abuse. Early on in Abu Ghraib, all the soldiers I have talked to who were there when the abuses happened told me that there were no rules. It was like the Wild, Wild West.”
I was pleased to see the captains were tracking with me. They were getting it, and that encouraged me to open up more.
“The tragedy of this was that while Abu Ghraib was morally falling apart, the leadership was not there to take the necessary corrective action,” I said. “Captain Schuster, it will be critical to your operation to have active attorneys lay out the rules of engagement. These attorneys will help these young soldiers and officers interpret the Uniform Code of Military Justice and how to interpret the rules of engagement and what conduct is appropriate. Captain, I want to come back to something I said earlier, and that is how important it is to be there. By this I mean living, eating, sleeping, and praying with your soldiers. One of the problems I saw in Iraq was that there were approximately thirty-five generals living in the lap of luxury at Camp Victory. These generals were living in actual palaces that Saddam Hussein and his sons once owned. Now, as for myself, whenever I went to Camp Victory, I slept in a tent with privates and I rode around post on the same public buses that all the other privates and sergeants rolled around post on. Keep in mind that if you want to know what in the hell is really going on at a command, talk to the privates and sergeants. I never learned a damn thing by hanging out with colonels.
“The generals, on the other hand, were chauffeured from point A to point B in air-conditioned vehicles and would return home at night to the air-conditioned palaces that were built and owned by Saddam. The average soldier, on the other hand, slept in hot-ass tents and went to sleep every night worrying if a mortar would come through the top of the tent. I went to sleep many nights in Iraq in tents, saying my prayers, and, as I dozed off, would ask the Lord to take care of my wife if I got blown up in the night. Captain, I heard a famous saying once but I don’t remember who said it. It goes like this: ‘A leader who stays in the rear will take it in the rear.’”
The captains chuckled a bit at that line, but they were still paying attention.
“Most of these young soldiers literally slept in their underwear because they either did not live in an air-conditioned tent or the air-conditioning was usually broken. Dehydration was a very, very common problem on convoys for many junior soldiers because the vehicles were not air-conditioned. Now, yeah, war is hell and all that, and you can’t whine about not having air-conditioning, right? But you know, the generals’ dehydration was never a problem because they always drove around in air-conditioned Humvees.
“Eat where your soldiers eat. Sleep where your soldiers sleep. Pray where your soldiers pray. And drive in the same crappy vehicles your soldiers drive. Be out front and do whatever you ask your soldiers to do. This will garner their respect, and most importantly, it will always position you to know what the hell is going on in your organization.”
I was going through my Abu Ghraib notes in my head and for a minute I wished I had brought them with me. But then I realized I didn’t need them, that I knew these lessons as well as I knew anything.
“Now, listen to what I’m about to say. You need to write this down. I’m going to give you eight rules to lead by. These are the big lessons I brought home from Abu Ghraib, and you can use them no matter what type of an organization you’re in. Here you go: Rule #1 is ‘You got to be there.’ Don’t hide like a chickenshit bastard. Be available at all times. The leaders at Abu Ghraib hid and allowed rogue soldiers to commit atrocities. I can’t tell you enough times how important it is for you to be there with your soldiers. Eat at their tables in the chow hall, sleep where they sleep, everything. You got to be with them and they will love you for it.
“Rule #2 is ‘Be seen.’ When leaders are not seen by their subordinates, they will begin to drift away from following the rules. You’ll have to show up unannounced at all hours of the day and night.
“Rule #3 is ‘You must be involved.’ Captain, as I said a few minutes ago, you must be everywhere in the organization. Along the way there, talk with and have fun with the lowest-ranking people you meet. The privates, the secretaries, the janitors, those who feel as though they’re the nobodies of society. That’s where you will really build morale and turn a failed mission into a successful one.
One of the young captains asked, “Sir, why do I ever need to talk to a janitor?”
“Captain,” I said, “you’re not tracking with me yet. An old aunt of mine told me a long time ago, ‘Take care of those who take care of you.’ If you just be kind to that janitor and ask him every day how he’s doing, your office will be spotless all the time. And even better, Captain, he’ll tell you when some shit is really screwed up. That guy will cover your flank all the time.
“Rule #4 is ‘Be bold.’ Make the right, hard moral calls. Your troops will love you and respect you for it. We all love being around a leader who has a big set of balls. That’s the person we all want to follow. Be bold and lead.
“Folks, Rule #5 for me is ‘Be passionate’ in everything you do. Your soldiers who work for you will see it in your eyes, and more importantly, Captain Schuster, they will feel it in you. Your passion will spread to the rest of your unit like a wildfire. Some of the officers I met at Abu Ghraib seemed to operate with a management style like that of a guy who owned a funeral home. They had a job to do, but they did it with very little passion and they would move about the post in a very emotionally detached way. A blind man could see that these type of leaders didn’t want to be there.
“Rule #6 is ‘Be fun.’ You guys know how I am. I’m always cutting up with folks, telling stories, having a good time. That’s the kind of colonel I am.”
“Sir, we always know when you’re in your office,” one captain offered. “I can always hear your laugh all the way down by my office.”
I looked Captain Johnson in the eyes with a wide grin on my face and said, “Son, you got it. Nobody likes being around a mean, nasty boss. Not only is it not fun, but it drains your energy and you just don’t want to come to work. It ain’t fun. You need to have a blast at work, and it will inspire those around you to have fun as well. As a leader, you set the tone. If you’re miserable, they’re miserable. If you’re motivated and passionate, they will be too.
“So Rule #7, gang, is ‘Be energetic,’” I continued. “Do whatever you do with energy and people will want to be around you. It will be infectious.
“Rule #8 is ‘Be clear.’ Everyone who works for you must at all times know the rules of engagement. This has to be overtrained. Remember, soldiers will do what their leaders allow them to do. If you allow it, a soldier will do it. Thus, you better be clear on what are the appropriate and inappropriate standards of conduct.
“Ladies and gentlemen, now you got it. That’s what I learned at Abu Ghraib and these are the things I live by. Our time for this morning is up. I’ll meet with y’all next week.”
As I got up from the table, Captain Schuster said, “Colonel, would you mind if I ask one last question, sir?” I told her it would have to be quick.
“Sir, are you the same person now that you were back before the war?”
A quietness fell upon the room as the group stopped getting their belongings together to leave and waited to hear my answer. It was as though they all took in a deep breath and held it. I didn’t answer immediately, and I began to see faces and images of the past, to reflect on the death of my mother, the loss of my soldier buddies, and I could almost hear the sound of incoming mortars all over again. I didn’t realize that about thirty seconds went by in total silence as the group waited for me to respond. Finally, I took a sip from my coffee cup and said, “Captain, we’ll have to talk about that one next week.”
Then I walked away before they could say anything more.
Facing My Critics
October 2005–August 2007
I
was still having periods of restless sleep as I debated the doctor versus soldier conflict deep within my psyche each night. When I was a young child, my mother would always tell me, “Don’t worry ’bout nothin’, son. Just when you can’t find your way, the good Lord will always send an angel to help you along the way. All you gotta do is just be patient with it.” I tried to follow her advice on those nights when I couldn’t sleep because of the images and concerns racing through my mind.
On one bright and sunny day in October 2005, I was sitting by myself in the hospital cafeteria and must have looked like ten miles of bad road. My old fried Chaplain Peter Boudreaux from Opelousas, Louisiana, just came and sat with me. Pete was an Army colonel as well as the head chaplain at our hospital. After being a minister for over thirty years, Pete could sense when things were amiss in anyone. Plus, Pete and I had a special bond because years earlier we had served together in the 25th Infantry Division. He and I crafted a program to reduce the incredibly high suicide rate at the division post. His grace, peacefulness, and calmness had often soothed my disquiet. Chaplain Pete in many ways reminded me of Father Francis Mulcahy, the chaplain on the TV show M*A*S*H—a gentle, kind, peaceful, and pleasant human being.
Pete sat down and said, “Larry, how was it in Iraq? I have been thinking and worrying about you, son.”
I didn’t really answer his question. Instead, I asked him about something I had been wondering about. “Pete, why don’t chaplains carry weapons in combat?”
“Well, we can’t, not ever. How can I serve God and kill another? Us chaplains have to choose, Larry—be a minister or not,” he said, immediately sensing why I had asked the question. “Larry, you’re a doctor. You guys take an oath to ‘do no harm,’ and I never understood how a doctor, a healer, could take such an oath and carry a gun at the same time.”
My world stopped in time at that instant. Chaplain Pete had reached into my soul and placed his right index finger on pause, stop, just hold right here for a moment. My eyes began to tear up right there in the chow hall. Chaplain Pete knew what he was doing when he asked me that question. He already knew I was having a hard time resolving how to be a doctor and a soldier, and he helped me bring it out into the open.
“Larry, that’s a real burden for you to carry, trying to be faithful to both roles,” he said. “I know you have to be struggling.”
He reached over the table, gently placed both of his hands on top of mine, and began to pray. If was as though the hundred other people in the chow hall were motionless, silent, and part of a distant background. He said in his gentle voice, “Heavenly Father, please place your arms around your son as he struggles to find the right road, the right path on his difficult journey. Keep him safe in either a combat zone or at home. Oh Lord, guide him to always have a good heart and a clear mind. In Jesus’s name, amen.”
The chaplain stood up, patted me on the shoulder, and walked away. I never saw him again. He retired shortly after that but his words are still with me to this day. It was a simple gesture that told me he knew the pain I was hiding, and praying with my friend helped me take another major step forward in resolving this debate deep within me.
The debate raging within me was bad enough, but the evolution of the doctor’s role on the battlefield became a hotly debated public issue during the global war on terror, and I became a primary target for the critics. Sometimes hateful attacks upon my character began to heat up in the latter part of 2005. By the time I returned to the States from my Abu Ghraib deployment, many journalists from around the country, in an effort to sell newspapers rather than present the truth, began to attack the notion of a psychologist working to help interrogators in any way. Several misguided psychologists and psychiatrists from around the country jumped into the melee and accused Department of Defense psychologists like myself of being diabolical devils, basing their charges on no data whatsoever. The facts were clear for me: I was not even in Cuba when the abuses occurred in 2002. I arrived there in January 2003. Likewise, I didn’t get to Abu Ghraib until June 2004, six to eight months after the dirty pictures of the abuses showed up on TV. Moreover, there were no psychologists at Abu Ghraib during the abuses. But for some reason the attacks raged on.
At the beginning, it was difficult for me to understand this criticism and remain silent. My orders had been clear: help these young interrogators gather intelligence in a safe, ethical, legal, and effective manner without any abuse whatsoever. Sadly, while in Cuba and Abu Ghraib I had done many media interviews and very few got any traction at all in the general media. Apparently having me explain all the good things we were doing and all the improvements that had been made already just wasn’t interesting enough to be publicized. What did get all the traction and attention was this notion, without any clear data, that Army psychologists were torturing people. On June 20, 2005, Time magazine had published an article that some interpreted as accusing Major John Leso of torture. The article soon took on a life of its own, with antiwar activists and torture opponents claiming it as evidence that Army psychologists were assisting in the torture of detainees.
