Four years after he survived a brutal firefight in a remote Afghanistan valley that claimed the lives of five Americans, retired U.S. Army Capt. William Swenson will be hailed as a hero at the White House on Tuesday. Swenson, 34, is credited with risking his life to help save his fellow troops and recover their bodies, feats that President Obama will recount when he presents Swenson with the Medal of Honor, the military’s highest award for valor.But for Swenson, the award stands for more than his personal bravery during the seven-hour battle in the Ganjgal valley, near the Pakistan border, on Sept. 8, 2009. It is also a measure of vindication. After returning from the battlefield, Swenson engaged in a lengthy and bitter dispute with the military over the narrative of one of the Afghan war’s most notorious firefights.The questions he raised resulted in reprimands for two other officers and what he believes was an effort by the Army to discredit him. His account also cast doubt on the exploits of another Medal of Honor winner from the same battle, Dakota Meyer of the Marine Corps.
The last piece of that is something of an exaggeration to say the least. There are some differences between the narratives of Swenson and Meyer probably because they were in different places on the battlefield doing different things. Meyer was in the somewhat less confused role of the combat Marine who has only one primary goal -- kill the enemy, save his buddies. Captain Swensen was in a command role trying to keep the entire mess from going to hell, simultaneously, while also trying to save his soldiers, answer queries from headquarters, and try to lead all his troops through this disaster. Because, quite frankly, it was a disaster and serves to show how Pertraeus' much vaunted COIN strategy has some significant glitches in it. It's great to win hearts and minds, but if you're dead, you're only feeding buzzards and worms. COIN works because the bad guys and the not so bad guys and the good guys know that there's overwhelming combat power to back it up. In this case, not so much...no overwhelming power just a bureaucratic and FOB culture haze.
A group of US forces go off to meet with a bunch of Village elders and get ambushed. Not only are they ambushed but they're outnumbered five to one or so, and the bad guys have them canalized into a kill zone. Now, the great equalizer in all this is Fire Support and Air Support. Swenson spent a great deal of time trying to get those assets, and not succeeding because the Chain of Command had changed the rules of engagement. So, in between moments of heroism, he's dealing with functionaries and fools. He's also a grunt Captain talking to the FOB and what does he know? Well, he knows his men are getting killed and it feels like a set-up and he needs some goddamned IRON ON TARGET right freaking now, goddamnit!
As an aside, this theme of reluctant and late support seems to be a theme in a number of MOH narratives. This one reminds me of the story around Audie Murphy's award of the Medal of Honor. Murphy was calling in artillery fire in a danger close situation. Asked how close the Germans were, he supposedly said, "Stay on the line, I'll let you talk to them..."
So, the battle is over, and he gets to write after action reports and citations. However, he also takes the time to raise the issue of where the the support was. Here's a rifle company officer demanding answers that will call into the question the competence of the local command and the competence of higher echelons. His judgement is questioned, his valor is called into doubt; meanwhile, the Marines are responding correctly to what Dakota Meyer had done. Swensen was in a morass, and Meyer was mustering out.
Rhe Seattle Times seems to indicate that Meyer landed on his feet immediately, while Swenson went back to the Fort Lewis-Seattle region and became some caricature of the PTSD-guilt ridden Vet. If you recall the pieces on Manning at the time of the Award of his metal, he was basically a day laborer with PTSD and guilt issues as well. He seems to have gotten his head together, and that's fantastic. All Americans should be proud of him, and all Vets stand a little taller because of what he represents. But, Bill Swenson deserves the same and perhaps more; he brought the issues of incompetence and misplaced priorities to the attention of Command and paid a high price. His battle did not end as they moved out of Ganjgal or got back to their operating base. Swenson retired after 9 years of service in 2011. He returned to the Seattle area and basically spent the next couple of years trying to get his act together. I hope and I believe all our readers will join me in that hope, that Captain William Swenson finds peace and success going forward. As with Meyer, Murphy and all the other heroes who have been awarded the Medal of Honor, we are humbled yet stand a little taller thanks to the valor and self-sacrifice of these men. But for Swenson, duty continues to call.
One of the few people Swenson keeps in touch with from his Army days is Charlene Westbrook. The two have spoken monthly since Ganjgal, and last year he traveled to Fort Benning, Ga., where she was presented the Silver Star in honor of her husband. When Swenson told her last month that his own medal had been approved, Westbrook said, “I cried, and he assured me he was accepting it for the team.”Westbrook credited Swenson with helping her and her three adult sons cope with a series of family traumas. Kenneth Westbrook’s older brother Marshall, a New Mexico National Guardsman, was killed during combat in Iraq in 2005. Last year, Marshall Westbrook’s daughter Nicole, 21, was slain in a random shooting in Seattle’s Pioneer Square. The Army widow said Swenson offered support when she flew to Seattle after her niece was shot, a sign, perhaps, that the former captain has not left his service days entirely behind. “He’s my soldier,” Swenson said of his dead battlefield partner. “You take care of your soldiers.”
Hooah.
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