On Killing

“I can kill all day long, but what is the point?”
-COL. David Sutherland, 3BCT, 1CAV

“Treat everyone with dignity and respect, but be prepared to kill them.”
- COL. Bryan Owens, 3BCT, 82nd ABN

October 31, 2006. “Sir, trade weapons with me,” Bernie whispered from the protection of our hide site. We were hidden deep within the grape vineyards. We had snuck in under the cover of darkness, found the enemy, and now it was time to kill. We had been tracking our prey for weeks. We were finally given the go. As the women and children scattered, the sniper quickly began to recede back into the safety and anonymity of the town. For a moment, he was in range. Staff Sergeant Joshua Bernthall focused. We traded weapons- his sights were conditioned for room clearing, mine for long-range observation. He calmed his body, breathed deep, and squeezed the trigger. With the first round, he zeroed my weapon to his specifications. With the second squeeze, in one fell swoop, the bullet traveled out of the palm groves, across the Diyala River, down the crowded street, and the sniper fell- one round to the head-perfection. Operation Shaku Maku had begun. Thankfully, there would be no civilian casualties today.

In On Killing, Dave Grossman contends that in combat, a soldier must dehumanize his enemy in order to kill him. He argues that the psychological nature of man will not allow one to kill another if you consider them as your equal. That sounds all and good. It’s logical, thoughtful, and academic; however, Dave never killed a man.

My experiences were vastly different. In a counter-insurgency effort, one has to eat dinner with one’s enemy, spend time with them, get to know their families, become intimately engaged with them, and then kill them.

There is always doubt, and you hardly ever know for certain that you had the right man. You just make a decision. In those times, I felt like Gabriel, God’s chosen Angel of Death.

* In some ways, in some stark contrast, I feel tranquil.* In other ways, I’m distraught.

I am neither anti-war nor am I a war-monger. It’s just a part of who we are- part of the cycle of life. My life is quite the paradox- I have little regard for shooting weapons or the pomp and ceremony of the garrison military. I simply don’t care for it. If this war wasn’t going on, I’d have left the Army a long time ago to pursue a business career. That’s the way the Few family rolls. We’re strikingly independent. It’s not a question of a cup half empty or half full- our cup overfloweths. The oxymoron of our surname is never-ending.

However, in combat, I’m notoriously brutal. I turn on a darker side, and I found that I can kill without remorse. Not murder, but killing whether it be man, woman or children. I have never committed a war crime- my actions were totally justified by jus in bellum (conduct in war). Whoever is culpable is subject to die. In some sense, this choice should only be left to GOD….

** Deep inside, as I compartmentalized the tragic horrors of my experiences, a cancer of the mind began to overtake me. Slowly, it ate away at my mind, my heart, and my soul. I became numb.