Commentary: Living up to potential is a personal choice

  • Published
  • By Lt. Col. Don Robertson
  • 100th Security Forces Squadron commander
RAF MILDENHALL, England --  It was a Sunday morning in July 2007, I was relaxing. After going to church, I headed over to the Brigade Tactical Operations Center to steal some coffee and "spread some cheer."

After visiting with the battle captain and radio operators for a little while, I decided to go change into my ABUs and "go to work." As I left the TOC, I heard the boom. Being familiar with this sound, my gut sank. I raced back to the TOC to get information. All the brigade could see was the Blue Force Tracker (BFT) chatter between the vehicles. BFT provides a positioning ICON for each gun truck as well as allows for instant messaging between units.

SAFESIDE TOC was controlling my patrols (via tactical radio and BFT) outside the wire. However from the BFT we were starting to get conflicting reports. After a few minutes it became clear that one of my patrols had been hit with an IED and was being ground evac'd back to base. I jumped on my four-wheeler and raced to the main entry control point, I arrived almost simultaneously with both the gun truck carrying my wounded and the ambulance that would transport my guys to the hospital.

I met Steve Harrington more than two years prior. He was a new Airman in my squadron, and I try to meet all the new guys that arrive. Quite honestly, I was less than impressed. His uniform could have used an iron, his hair was just within limits and could have used a comb. He really didn't speak unless asked a direct question and rarely looked me in the eye.
I would see him around the squadron, at PT, and during our training events. He never stood out nor excelled. As a matter of fact about the only time I ever noticed him at all was at the smoke pit when I would walk by. As time went by, I ended up deploying with Steve to Iraq three times and to JTF Katrina. He never got in trouble and never took any initiative.

One morning prior to deploying to Iraq for our third trip, we were on a 6-mile ruck march. I usually started at the back and tried to motivate as I worked my way up. I have always been a natural runner, so ruck marching always came easy to me. At about the half way mark I realized the lead group was within my sights. As I started to quicken my pace, I caught the lead pack. They started teasing me about being an "old man" ... so of course, testosterone took over.

A little while later, I had dropped the last straggler. I settled down into good pace to finish the run. As I rounded the corner with about a mile and a half to go,  I noticed two more guys ahead of me in the distance. How did I not notice them? I should have never slowed down.  I picked up my pace yet again; maybe they wouldn't see me. As I pushed the pace and closed the gap, they saw me ... knew it was me, and pushed their own pace.
 
I never caught them.

They were at the squadron waiting on me. Then it hit me -- it was Harrington! A 6-mile ruck run with a 55-pound ruck is a significant event. Everybody may finish, but to win is another story. I shook Steve's hand and congratulated him. He looked me in the eye and said, "Thanks sir," and that was all he said.

A few weeks later we left for Camp Blanding to complete our pre-deployment training. One scenario required a flight to secure and assault a small compound in this village. It was the usual scenario; insurgents with a weapons cache were suspected of being present. As I watched my flight's progress and wrote critique notes, I noticed Harrington had taken the role of team leader and was quite capably directing his team through the scenario.

After noticing Harrington's remarkable change in attitude, I took the opportunity to ask him what had changed in his life.

His response?

"I just wanted to see what I could do."

As the humvee pulled up, two guys opened the passenger side rear door and helped Staff Sgt. Forsythe out of the gun truck. His right arm was mangled. In his left arm he had an iridium phone. He was talking to his pregnant wife explaining to her that he was alright. As the medics put him into the ambulance, he started to lose reception. He handed me the phone. I assured her he was safe, and that I would call her back in a few minutes. As I hung up, I turned around and watched the medics pull Harrington out of the gun truck. He was covered in blood, my heart skipped.

As it turns out, Harrington was covered in blood because he had superficial shrapnel wounds to his face. Remember, it was July in Iraq, and very hot. His perspiration and the amount of blood normally associated with a head wound made it look much worse than it was. As a matter of fact, he was released in a couple of hours.

Now we have finally made it to the story. Staff Sgt. Forsythe was the TC, or Truck Commander.  Harrington was the gunner. Normally a gun truck crew consists of three -- a driver, a gunner who sits in the turret with the gun, and a truck commander. The IED hit Sergeant Forsythe's door, it was an EFP. The driver was knocked out. Harrington hit by shrapnel, assessed the situation. The TC was pinned in and hit. The truck was on fire, ammunition would soon start to cook; he pulled the driver to safety then went back for Forsythe. He had to pull Forsythe up through the turret, to include Forsythe's 60 pounds of body armor, to get him out of the gun truck. After accomplishing this, he started pulling security and performing SABC until the rest of his squad could arrive to help out.

Holy Cow! ...Are you kidding me?

Steve Harrington is my hero. He might not have gone from "zero to hero," but I did get to watch his transformation as he made the personal decision to live up to his potential rather than stay in his comfort zone. I wish I could say it was my leadership or some wise word I might have said, but that is just wishful thinking.

More probably it was the daily example set by over three dozen NCOs in my squadron (including Forsythe) that would not accept mediocrity. In doing this, he chose to internalize our core values. He surely made "Excellence" a part of his daily routine. He learned his craft, and ensured he was "fit to fight." When the time came -- as it will surely come for all of us. Steve was prepared to meet the challenge. Steve's actions saved three lives that morning.