A Platoon’s Lesson in Failed Leadership

[thedrifter]

12-01-2004

A Platoon’s Lesson in Failed Leadership



By Philip A Quigley



After graduating from Marine Corps boot camp and infantry school and transferring into the reserves in late January 2003, I frequently heard that the NCOs were the washouts of the active duty Corps. At first, I didn’t think this was true since I believed in the “warrior/citizen” concept, and I believed that these were good citizens who wanted to fight for their country while maintaining a civilian life.



I was wrong.



What I saw in my platoon during eight months of service in the invasion of Iraq proved for me that many of these NCOs were washouts, and in retrospect I was a witness to a major leadership failure in the Marine Corps Reserve.



Five days after I checked into my platoon at the 4th Light Armored Reconnaissance Battalion, an LAV-25 unit at Camp Pendleton, Cal., we were activated for service with Operation Iraqi Freedom and two weeks later we deployed to Kuwait preparing for the invasion that began a month later when we crossed the line of departure into Iraq.



We were assigned to the 1st Marine Division as Alpha Co., 1st LAR Battalion during the invasion of Iraq and subsequent siege of Baghdad in 2003. I was the only “new guy” in the company and didn’t know anyone, so I enjoyed the clear perspective of an outsider looking in. The experience was instructive but far from pleasant.

In retrospect, I can see that I was completely physically and emotionally unprepared for going into battle. What made things worse was that I had little guidance from my platoon leader and NCOs.



Of the NCO leadership we had in my platoon, there were few sergeants who were respected. However, the majority of the NCOs failed to live up to the Marine Corps leadership traits and principles that I had learned in my training. They did not have integrity; they showed little if any appreciation for justice; there was no loyalty to those below them in the chain of command.



This failure extended to the officers in my unit as well. My captain platoon leader, more interested in getting another feather in his hat so he could pick up major by the next promotion board, and my platoon sergeant, whose sole interest was in retiring, failed to supervise the actions of their NCOs, so the NCOs had unimpeded freedom to do things of a questionable nature. One man in particular stands out in my mind: He was a vehicle commander in my platoon, and the NCO assigned to maintain discipline within the platoon by the Captain.



While we were staging in Kuwait for the kickoff of “Operation Iraqi Freedom,” I was not at the same “knowledge point” as the other junior Marines in my platoon simply because of my time to date in the Corps and the type of unit I found myself in. This particular NCO decided to “discipline” me in the way he saw fit – by physically beating it into me. I was his “problem child,” not because of anything I had specifically done or not done, but simply because in his mind he had to train a “f***ing new guy” in his “high speed, low drag” fire team. I quickly learned from various members of the company his sordid history.



It was common knowledge this NCO was a sadist. Because of my platoon leader’s absence from day-to-day supervision of the unit, the staff sergeant enjoyed unchecked freedom to oversee the platoon in his own way.



My fellow team members informed me that the NCO was a failure in the civilian world. He had been fired from the Los Angeles Police Department for police brutality and for discharging his firearm in public while intoxicated. To make up for that, in the military world he put all his effort into getting into a leadership position in the company. He became the drinking buddy of many of the officers and with his police connections, knew which bars to frequent and how to avoid police interference while raising hell. He picked up rank quickly and became my platoon leader’s enforcer, with his own idea of “discipline.” With my platoon leader’s blessing, he dispensed it at will many times.



But in Iraq, he finally crossed the line.



This occurred near the end of our tour, when our unit was stationed for a month and a half at FLB Dogwood, an Army supply and logistics base in Northern Babel Province, 40 miles southeast of Baghdad.



The Marine Corps defines integrity as “uprightness of character and soundness of moral principles including truthfulness and honesty”.



One night at Dogwood, the staff sergeant and a corporal friend decided to “discipline” the platoon’s new mechanic. (Our previous mechanic had arranged a transfer to the headquarters platoon in disgust over the poor treatment he had received at the hands of the NCO and because of the improper fraternization he saw within the platoon’s leadership.)



His replacement, though a skilled mechanic, was a likeable, young, quiet – but slightly overweight – junior Marine. One night the mechanic was not moving fast enough for the NCO’s liking; so the staff sergeant choked and beat him, then ordered the corporal to further beat him until the corporal felt the mechanic’s “lesson was learned.”



I had taken a shower in our make-shift showers and was walking to my vehicle when I found the mechanic hiding, huddled in the back of the vehicle, crying. I asked him what had happened and he told me. I decided that I was not going to stand by while the NCO abused our “new guy” for no justifiable reason.



I went to get find our platoon corpsman, who was well aware of the staff sergeant’s ways of “discipline” and had already told the platoon members he would not allow any form of hazing. Unlike our petty tyrant, the Doc was a good NCO. The Doc took the abused Marine to the assistant battalion surgeon and from there reports of the NCO’s abuse went up the chain of command.



The company commander removed the mechanic from my platoon (we had no mechanic after that, since the maintenance chief refused to send any more).



There was a general feeling of angst throughout the platoon in the weeks that followed. I myself, anticipating an act of revenge by our NCO dictator became very paranoid. The other lance corporals in my unit began calling me “Condition-One Quigley” because I began walking around with a round in the chamber of my rifle in the bivouac area in anticipation of the NCO and his enjoyment of bullying and mistreating other Marines.



Justice was neither swift nor certain. Company officers gave the staff sergeant and the corporal Page 11’s (an official letter of reprimand that was placed in each of their personnel files). Battalion staff transferred the staff sergeant from my platoon to the battalion intel shop, which had conducted the original investigation into his misconduct, and the corporal soon left the company for another assignment. I found it disgusting that the battalion had decided on a slap on the wrist and “don’t do it again” warning that in essence let them both off the hook.



This disgusted me because there was no justice in them getting away with beating a junior Marine. This experience fundamentally changed my opinion of the Marine Corps Reserve. It did not help that throughout my months in Kuwait and Iraq I heard of many similar incidents through the “lance corporal network.”



Following my discharge (for Iraq-related injuries) and return to civilian life, I’ve had several invitations to speak on my experiences. During one visit to my former high school NJROTC unit, one cadet asked me if he should join the Marine

Corps Reserve.



I told him no – not while the poor leadership I witnessed in the wartime Marine Corps Reserve continues to fester.



While the Marines still need new recruits to carry on the war against terrorism, I want to prevent these kinds of injustices from happening to junior Marines who would come after my own experience with an absent platoon leadership and an unsupervised, tyrannical NCO.



Guest contributor Philip A. Quigley Jr. served as an enlisted Marine combat scout during Operation Iraqi Freedom, and is pursuing a post-military goal of writing about contemporary defense issues. He can be reached at HawkmanPQ@aol.com. *Send Feedback responses to dwfeedback@yahoo.com.


Ellie

[Namvet67]

I'm having a little trouble believing this story. NCO washouts...my **s...This guy sounds like a real wimp. I get the feeling he don't like NC0s or law enforcement officers. I think he needed his butt kicked.

[jinelson]

gbudd I agree the little wuss wouldnt make a pimple on a recruits @ss. I served with H&S CO 25th Marines for a year and a half as a non-obligore and although I didnt think my reservists were as disciplined as actives I never heard of this kind of crap. I sure would have liked the chance to have privately instilled some honor and discipline in this puke by way of a little warm and fuzzy EMI.