G.I. Janes & G.I James

James Coon was promoted yesterday.

There are something on the order of 130,000 US military personnel here in Iraq. They are from all sections of the country, all strata of society, all colors, and ages. Some have PhDs. Some barely finished high school. Most are men. Many are women.

In the civilian commercial world promotions are often marked with a dinner or a reception or by your boss passing by your office and telling you "there'll be a few extra kopeks in your pay packet next week, now get back to work."

In the military promotions are a bigger deal. And some promotions are bigger deals than others.

In the Army it is accomplished at a pinning ceremony. A senior person literally pins the new rank on the person being promoted.

Who does the pinning is part of the deal. It is, I suppose, like being sworn in as a Federal official. If Bob-The-Guy-In-The-Legal-Counsel's-Office swears you in it counts, but it doesn't make quite the cocktail conversation it would if the President of the United States did it.

I suspect that if you gave Sergeant Coon his choice of just about anyone short of the President of the United States and General Kimmitt to pin his E-7 stripes on, he would have chosen Kimmitt. If the President had offered, James would have accepted but out of loyalty to his oath; not because he thought it was a better idea.

I witnessed the promotion of Staff Sergeant James Coon to Sergeant First Class James Coon. I happened to have been there because Sergeant Coon asked me to be there. In a place like this, when you become friends with someone, you take that friendship very seriously because, in a place like this, your lives might depend on one another.

Sergeant First Class James Coon has been in the Army for 18 years. He is 37 years old. Promotion to Sergeant First Class is a big deal because it marks the holder of that rank as a Senior Non-Commissioned Officer (NCO).

He is here in Iraq as a member of the staff of Brigadier General Mark Kimmitt. Gen. Kimmitt pinned SFC Coon this Sunday afternoon under the famous crossed swords in Baghdad.

The other day we were out and about and I was explaining live in Ft. Bragg, North Carolina when I was there in the late 1960's. I described my basic training platoon which was forty men - about half White guys from the backwoods south; and about half Black guys from the Washington, DC/Philadelphia corridor.

Some of the White guys could not read or write. Some of the Black guys WOULD not read or write.

But this was the Vietnam era and if you could stand up long enough to complete the pre-induction physical, you were in.

They did not get along very well. In fact, they didn't get along at all.

As I had some 12 minutes of National Guard experience before basic training, I was appointed platoon leader and had the responsibility of reporting at morning formation.

Up and down the basic training company my platoon-leader peers got to say things like "ALL PRESENT AND ACCOUNTED FOR, SIR!"

I got to say things like "three troops in the hospital, one in the barracks refusing to come out, and two missing, sir."

I hated morning formations.

Anyway, James grew up in South Carolina and told me he was like the White guys in my basic training platoon.

But he's not.

A couple of weeks ago we went on a walk-about to Babylon and someone idly asked if anyone knew the history of the place.

James held forth on Babylon's importance both as a Biblical site and it's importance in history.

I, foolishly, said that it was the place where the phrase "the handwriting on the wall" originated because some king or another saw that Babylonia would be split up into three parts.

James, without at all being a smart-alec said, "Mr. Galen is almost correct. It was actually Daniel who figured out what the writing on the wall meant, and warned the king."

James is, like many who did not have the benefits of a college education, is widely read because he enjoys the accumulation of knowledge which brings understanding.

He told one of his junior NCOs the other day that "If you can learn something new every day, no matter how small it is, then it will be a good day."

As it happened, just as he said that, gunfire hit the wall next to which we were standing so I didn't, at the time, fully appreciate what he was telling his young charge.

In the military there is a requirement - or at least a culture - of seniors mentoring their juniors. You see it, or at least in one case, hear it all the time.

On a recent helicopter ride I had a headset with allowed me to listen in to the chatter between the pilots and the gunners. In between the usual banter of young men, the two officers flying the helicopter conducted a clinic on the goggles the crew wears which are high-tech devices. The specific question was: What are the three (or four) items which will dead-line goggles?

The pilot and the co-pilot led the two gunners through the issues until they were satisfied the gunners not only knew the answers, but understood why the answers were important.

This, while flying at about 75 feet over the ground at about 120 miles per hour through potentially very hostile territory.

Others on General Kimmitt's staff do the same thing. A captain, just today, gave a young Specialist a writing assignment to help him improve his writing skills which will, in turn, help him be promoted to Sergeant.

Shortly before (or after) the gunfire against the wall event, Sgt. Coon was instructing the others on his team how to set an artillery piece using, as his example, a Russian gun which had been captured during the march to Baghdad.

He kept saying things like, "So, Mr. Galen, with a gun like this you can either fire at a high angle, or shoot at a flat angle."

The young men listened avidly as James knew they would, even though he was pretending to be instructing a simple civilian on the finer points of gunnery.

Here's photo of the group which was with me on that particular tour - this was taken a the Martyr's Monument in Baghdad:

There are a lot of James Coons in the US Army, and the Marines, and the Air Force, and the Navy. There are also a large - and growing - number of Jane Coons in the military.

They are NCOs who are responsible for the welfare, the training, the development and the very lives of their juniors.

James Coon was promoted yesterday. Others were, I'm certain, promoted as well. But I don't have the privilege of knowing them.

I am honored to know Sergeant First Class James Coon. And as a metaphor for the 130,000 troops who are here, I would be honored to walk into battle with him any place, any time.

I fervently hope he would want me to be with him.

On a different note, I want to focus on is the whole business of Oreo DoubleStuf cookies. A few weeks ago I mentioned in passing that we just can't keep Oreo DoubleStuf in stock. Not the regular Oreos, mind you. Those we can get at the PX.

DoubleStufs is like cigarettes were in Eastern Europe in the late 1980's: Currency. You would negotiate a cab ride in Hungary not in Forints, but in cigarettes. In some countries "kent" became the local jargon for money.

Anyway, I also happened to mention this shortage during a radio appearance on KSFO in San Francisco.

Between Mullings and KSFO we have received well over 180 packages of Oreo DoubleStuf cookies.

Here's what just one day's stash looked like:

That is Air Force Major Mike Pierson sampling the wares.

We have given Oreos to everyone. The Marines get them when they come in:

The sign, actually, insists that Marines who come in at night to use our phones to call home take a package of Oreos with them, "By Order of the Green Room Commander!"

Ya gotta know how to talk to Marines.

Our Middle Eastern friends love Oreo DoubleStufs.

This is Ghada Mansour who is a supervising analyst/linguist for one of the units here.

But all of those pale next to the - literal - whoops of joy we got when we showed up at the 31st Combat Support Hospital (the "CASH") with a carton of DoubleStufs:

(Mullfoto by Reynaldo Ramon)

The sign taped to the front of the desk says:

DoubleStuf Oreos Courtesy of KSFO listeners and Mullings readers.

These are just a few of the staff who work like dogs to save the lives of our young men and women every day. And every night. The wounds these people have to treat are horrific. Every day. And every night.

Standing from left to right are:

2LT Andrew Allbright of Andrews, Texas
SSG Oncencio Compean of Chicago, Illinois
SPC Justin Edwards of Longview, Texas
SPC Jasmyne Mokulehua of Kaneche, Hawaii
SGT Aaliyah Brandt of New York, New York

This isn't a television show. Sometimes they are not successful. I have been there, and watched their faces as they have had to remove the personal effects of a soldier they couldn't save. I don't know how they do it, every day and every night.

But look at their faces here.

If all it takes to make their faces light up like this is the taste of a cookie, then may they have all the cookies they desire, every day - and every night - for the rest of their lives.

And, because they are Americans, here's what happened right after we took this photo: Head Nurse Major Keyla Gammarona from Anchorage, Alaska (seated to my left) took two packages and raced down the stairs to give them the ambulance drivers who were about to set off for the airport because "they'll probably miss lunch and they love chocolate."

Do you see why I wax rhapsodic about being here?

If you'd like to contribute to the Great DoubleStuf Oreo giveaway, send them - or anything else you think these young people might enjoy - to:

Rich Galen
CPA-Office of Ambassador Jones
APO
AE09316

Be safe.

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