Unexpected Lessons in a Combat Zone

Commentary

“Don’t worry. You’ll be safe. Women don’t go into combat.” My husband reassured me as I lay with my head on his chest while discussing my fears about my upcoming deployment. His dismissive response annoyed me, but, in the end, he was right.

In 2004, it was against the law for women to serve in ground combat operations below the brigade level, which was good news for me! Especially since I had blown off all the training and lessons on this topic during Field Medical Service School (FMSS), well, beyond retaining the necessary facts needed to pass the tests, that is.

I knew that I wouldn’t need to retain combat information—like land navigation, operating a radio, becoming proficient with using and cleaning a firearm, and learning squad formations—long term because I was a female corpsman. The expectations were different for me and my male counterparts regarding where and how we would practice medicine with our respective greenside units.

Come to find out, once the 22nd MEU [Marine Expeditionary Unit] arrived in Afghanistan, the rules about women’s roles in combat altered drastically overnight. I quickly learned that everything is subject to change, especially in a combat situation where the mission comes first.

Problems came to light as soon as our boots hit the ground and the powers that be made changes to address those issues. That’s how several random women and I got assigned to the Battalion Landing Team (BLT) 1/6 ground maneuver elements as female searchers. Unfortunately, unlike the other female searchers, I was lost in the sauce.

I was put on the 22nd MEU roster last minute when another female corpsman became non-deployable for health reasons, so I was her replacement. Meaning, the newbie fresh out of FMSS [Field Medical Service School]—who had mentally data-dumped everything she could after passing FMSS—missed all the field ops and workups that everyone else on the MEU had participated in, in preparation for this particular deployment. Thus, I was wholly unprepared for what came next, and it showed in the stupid and embarrassing things that I continuously did out in the field.

For instance, while riding shotgun in a random vehicle that I got told to go sit in, while we drove to our next rendezvous point with the rest of the convoy, I thought I had “found” a package of jalapeño cheese spread from an MRE. I was starving, so I ate it. It turned out that I was wrong. That cheese spread belonged to somebody else, you know, like to the guy screaming in rage at me as the driver of the HUMVEE got between us when he came looking for his food.

How was I supposed to know the guy was saving it for later?!!!

Man, I had to do some serious wheeling & dealing to get that guy another package of jalapeño cheese spread to replace the one that I had eaten, in addition to an extra package of cheese spread as an apology. Anyway, the Marine took both cheese spreads, but he never forgave me. Instead, he gave me the stink eye every time we crossed paths for the rest of the deployment.

Lessons like field etiquette, as it pertains to chow time, do not get taught in a classroom. They are more like crash and burn experiences you gain along the way as you piss people off. I wish I had learned about the sanctity of food in the field (in general), especially jalapeño cheese spread in particular, before making an enemy for the rest of the deployment. Speaking of things not really talked about until the need arises, going to the bathroom was another interesting issue for me as a female in the field.

One night, on top of the mountain that Charlie Company had established as a temporary area of operation, I squatted over the pants wrapped around my ankles and tried to hold my trousers out of the way so that I wouldn’t pee on them accidentally. I didn’t want to add the smell of urine to the stench of body odor and sweat already permeating my uniform since we hadn’t bathed or washed clothes in weeks.

At the same time, I prayed that none of the guys were watching me take a piss with their night vision goggles (NVGs)—I put nothing by a bunch of young, bored, scared, horny Marines. Unfortunately, I should have stayed focused on what I was doing instead of worrying about my modesty because it cost me later.

As soon as the ominous sound of a metal belt buckle, clinking down the side of the mountain, echoing through the silence of the night reached my ears, I froze in place. The realization of what just happened brought home the fact that I had more significant problems to deal with now. Like, how was I going to keep my pants up?

All I can say is, thank goodness for cravats! They make excellent makeshift belts. Likewise, after another uniform malfunction a few days later, I also discovered that zip ties are quite useful in holding broken helmet straps in place too. As you can imagine, I was a mess out there. Not on purpose, of course. But I have a knack for racking up “un-cool” points, as the guys say, with my less-than-perfect military bearing and undignified mishaps.

Regardless, I am happy to say that when the time came, I shone where and when it counted. I also discovered that most blunders in the field are forgivable as long as you hold your own and don’t make things overly hard on anyone else. That unspoken rule, learned in Afghanistan 16 years ago, has served me well on this side of my DD214, in marriage, when dealing with friends and family, and working with other professionals. [Editor’s note: DD214 refers to a Certificate of Release or Discharge from Active Duty]

It appears that some of life’s best lessons truly are learned at the worst times and in the most unlikely places.

If you’re curious about the uncaptioned photo that accompanies this article, here are some additional details. The original finding aid described this photograph as follows:

“[Complete] Scene Caption: US Navy (USN) PETTY Officer Third Class Lori Butierries, a Hospital Corpsman (HM) with Marine Expeditionary Unit (MEU), Service Support Group 22 (SSG-22) temporarily attached to US Marine Corps (USMC) Marines assigned to Battalion Landing Team (BLT), 1st Battalion, 6th Marines, 22nd Marine Expeditionary Unit (MEU), Special Operations Capable (SOC), guards a group of Afghan women and children as infantrymen search their homes in the village of Khabargho, Afghanistan for arms caches and Taliban insurgents during Operation Asbury Park. During eight days of intense fighting more than 80 Taliban fighters were killed while eight Marines were wounded in the most intense clashes during the MEU’s deployment in support of Operation ENDURING FREEDOM.”