Photo Book Review: 'War is Beautiful'

Book Review: "War Is Beautiful: The New York Times Pictorial Guide to the Glamour of Armed Conflict*" by David Shields

*In which the author explains why he no longer reads The New York Times

David Shields' "War is Beautiful" is an evocative, coffee-table-worthy critique of an art form that seems increasingly irrelevant to how popular impressions and opinions are generated today. In an Age of "We Can Haz" Cat Memes and Pick-Your-Spin TV news, does the front page, above-the-fold photographic paper-space of The New York Times still represent anything like the key terrain for the hearts and minds of John and Joan Q. Public?

Probably not. But to over-focus on the deflating state of old media, in this case, would be to miss a larger tableau. In journalism schools and practice, at least in the reviewer's admittedly 20 century experience, the oft-stated goal is to teach people "not what to think, but how to think." Framing his explorations in an extremely tight shot—here, the example of one still-influential newspaper's hardcopy coverage—Shields is out to teach people how to think about journalism, and how images of war are developed and fixed, even in our digital age.

The 112-page, landscape-format book is largely composed of photographs treated as fine art—crisp-white pages heavy with saturated inks, interrupted by occasional set of quotations to cleanse the palette. The hardcover's book jacket is cleverly constructed as a newspaper page, with blurb-quotes and actual analytical content. (No fake filler text here!)

In the book's introduction, Shields says he started from a suspicion that "the governing ethos [of The New York Times aesthetic] was unmistakably one that glamorized war and the sacrifices made in the service to war." In the resulting intellectual exercise, Shields considered the front pages of New York Times published since 2001, curating the war-themed photography (the Gray Lady went color in 1997) into a taxonomy of 10 extremely useful visual tropes, or themes:

• Nature

• Playground

• Father

• God

• Pietá (war scenes of death that echo themes of Christ's death on the cross)

• Painting (war scenes rendered so abstractly and beautifully as to become unreal)

• Movie (technology- and action-centric scenes depicted with cinematic sensibilities, and video game verve)

• Beauty (portraits of women and children amidst scenes of war and male sacrifice)

• Love

• Death

Armed with knowledge of these themes, any reader of "War is Beautiful" will walk away with a new tool in their media-analysis kits. Shields' system of classification is, after all, potentially applicable to other mediated sources of war images. That includes those generated by governmental and military public affairs, as well as civilian media embedded with governmental agencies. In the latter, independent journalists are still dependent on their U.S. agency hosts for access, security, transportation, and food, potentially skewing views and access to events, places, and sources.

Shields locates responsibility for the Times' distortions of reality to the newspaper's historically chummy relationship to governmental power. "Throughout its history, the Times has produced exemplary war journalism, but it has done so by retaining a reciprocal relationship with the administration in power […]," he writes. "[I]t knows precisely what truth the power wants told and then prints this truth as the first draft of history."

In a short, back-cover essay to "War is Beautiful" (there's a newspaper-like "jump" to interior pages), art critic David Hickey blames the collaborative tribal practices of a traditional newsroom, a process that still involves many editors' eyes and hands:

Newspaper photographs have always had a job to do, but combat photographs today are so profoundly touched in the process of bringing them out, that they amount to corporate folk art. […] The exoticism of war and the Middle East has been suppressed almost completely on the American premise that anywhere an American hangs his hat is home. This whole book, in fact, could have been photographed in California and Nevada.

[…] The total effect of these photographs is to portray an American industrial project in a desert somewhere with swimming pools, basketball, and baseball being played. Lunch is being served. The commander and chief is giving his soldiers noogies. There is some fire, of course, but we love fire. There are echoes of the elaborate German films and photographs that created a fantasy world of the Russian front where millions were dying. Summing it up, these pictures generate more distrust of American military adventures than I had before, and I had a lot.

While I might enjoy jousting with Hickey over his characterization of "war photography" as "combat photography"—personally, I would limit the latter term to describe images of actual weaponized conflict—I agree with his conclusions. I agree that most images of war that I encounter as a consumer of news, on-line and in print, present a world comfortably at war.

That's mostly because the American way of war has become banal and boring and repetitive. Long in the tooth, as well as the tail. We export American suburbs as Forward Operating Bases ("FOB"), and staff them with endless rotations of soldiers and contractors. The "Long War" seems ... endless.

Having once been a small-town newspaper editor, I can tell you that coming up with artful new ways to present the same schedule of events—fun runs, weather and fire pictures, county fairs, funerals, restaurant openings—is a challenge. In size, scope and function, a FOB is analogous to a small town. In a current side project (www.fobhaiku.com), I am myself curating "small town" photography generated by military public affairs photographers, with the intention of subverting it toward what I hope are poetic, humorous, and socially constructive purposes. Shields and Hickey go beyond such passive-aggressive snark, of course, and directly attack the images, along with their implications.

The Home-Sweet-FOB picture show is a reality, but not the only reality.

Another reality is that war is a meat-grinder. Today's news consumers are buying the tasty sausage, without having to visit the butcher shop.

What's the fix to all this? An informed and media-savvy public. A more critical attitude in both news rooms and living rooms. "War is Beautiful" is a good first step. Maybe some veterans should crack open their hard-drives of deployment photos—the ones that run counter to General Order No. 1 (no, Cpl. Schmuckatelli, not the pornographic "field manuals")—to better share what war can be. IF bridging the civil-military gap requires turning off some of the puppies and rainbows, let's break some things and hurt some feelings. If we continue to picture war as routine, our society will deserve what comes next:

More of the same.

Sherpa's Rules of Engagement for Veterans Day

Meme courtesy of the Internet

Call it a safety briefing, or some half-baked Sherpatudes, or just some friendly advice ... Here are few truths and truisms to keep in mind this November 11th. Take what you can use, leave the rest:

1. Crossing the civil-military divide means meeting people halfway. Free appetizers and utterances of "thank you for your service" represent, in most cases, sincere and heartfelt attempts by civilians to bridge that gap. Don't make them work too hard. Don't put obstacles in their way. At least they're trying.
   
   
2. You're a veteran now. Be civil.
   
   
3. Remember how we were once supposed to win "hearts and minds" in someone else's country? Veterans day is about the hearts and minds of your fellow citizens. Don't screw it up.
   
   
4. Have a response plan. What are you going to say when someone says, "Thank you for your service"? Be gracious. Be polite. Be concise. One of my go-to phrases? "It was an honor to serve."
   
   
5. If someone calls you a "hero," let it go unremarked. Yes, you may not feel like a hero. You may, like other veterans, reserve that particular term for those who have been formally recognized for valor, or for those who have made the ultimate sacrifice. Being someone's hero isn't about you, however. It's about the other person. Everyone has their own war; everyone chooses their own heroes.
   
   
6. There is no such thing as a free lunch. If someone—an individual or a business—picks up your tab, make sure you still tip your waiter or waitress. Thank them for their service.
   
   
7. "All you can eat" doesn't mean you should.
   
   
8. Don't be pedantic. Yes, Veterans Day is technically for celebrating those who have served in the U.S. military. Memorial Day is about remembering those who have died in military service to their country. And Armed Forces Day is about celebrating those who currently serve. You don't have to put your inner drill sergeant on display, however, every time someone doesn't say something in exactly the right way.
   
   
9. "Pedantic" means "precise, exact, perfectionist, punctilious, meticulous, fussy, fastidious, finicky, dogmatic, purist, literalist, literalistic, formalist, casuistic, sophistic, captious, hair-splitting, quibbling, nitpicking, persnickety." Don't be that guy.
   
   
10. You know who's "pedantic," by the way? The freaking Taliban.
    
    
11. There is no apostrophe in "Veterans Day," but you don't need to get all grammar Nazi about punctuation. If you fought to protect the First Amendment, you also fought for someone's right to express themselves' incorrectly.
    
    
12. Know that there are different definitions of "veteran," by state law, federal agency, and organizational custom. In active-duty military culture, a "veteran" is often thought of as someone who is no longer in uniformed service. I've heard current service members argue up and down that they are not "veterans." In the National Guard and Reserve, however, a "veteran" may be legally defined as someone who has deployed overseas for a period longer than 6 months. Yes, they get a DD-214. (Former guard and reserve members who have retired from the military, usually after 20 or more years of service, are also labeled veterans, regardless of overseas deployment.)
    
    
13. Don't ask to see someone's DD-214.
    
    
14. Don't ask to see someone's military ID.
    
    
15. Basically, don't be a dick.
    
    
16. Veteran Outrage Syndrome is real. Know the signs, in yourself and in others.
    
    
17. Don't be anti-social on social media.
    
    
18. If you suspect that someone is wearing a uniform in public inappropriately, perhaps to collect on the offer of a free hero sandwich or falafel, take a knee and a deep breath and a big swig of water. Count to ten. If you still feel the need to make a citizen's correction, do so discretely and without making a scene. Don't threaten to call the police. Don't make physical contact. Don't engage in verbal abuse, public shaming, or witch-burning. You're better than that. We're all better than that. If we're not, the terrorists win.
    
    
19. Most important: Perform your buddy checks and maintenance before, during, and after Veterans Day operations. Not all who wander are lost. Not all who served are broken. But it never hurts to ask if someone is doing OK.
    

Fourth 'Line of Advance' Journal Keeps Rolling Along

LOA No. 4 cover by Daniel Kasza

In keeping with its tactical title, the veterans-lit journal "Line of Advance" continues to grind and attack forward with a rocking and rollicking fourth issue. The Spring 2015 edition of the Chicago-based on-line publication is available via a $5 single-issue purchase or $27 annual subscription. The magazine is available in either Apple-friendly epub or Amazon Kindle formats, or PDF by e-mail request to the editors.

The stories presented are all moving, as are the characters within them—whether moving away, forward, toward, or through. Editor Chris Lyke sets the theme in motion with his introduction. With furor and fervor, he places the issue at the crest of recent news events, which include riots and protests, shootings and calls for revolution:

All of these ideas I imagine to be influenced by something more nefarious. I think perhaps they are not a happenstance, but the echoes of something violent itself. We’ve seen this unrest before in our recent history, during the Vietnam War. This state of affairs, I tell my friends, isn’t a coincidence. This malice and shortsightedness is a bi-product of that “foul dust” brought home from a murder. […] 

I say to my friends not directly linked to the war that there may be something else going on. There may be an unseen player in this drama that does not have our best interests at heart. The echoes of the deeds in Western Asia are reverberating through our society just as those from Southeast Asia harangued our people forty years ago. This is, of course, why we publish Line of Advance. The works in the following pages are not black and white. They are as those telling the facts of a car crash: different, and gray, and true. All of them true in one-way or another. And, as a people trying to move forward with our humanity we would be wise to embrace the in-between thoughts, and the sliver truths, and even the ghosts we cannot yet see.

Eric "Shmo" Chandler is here, not only with poetry, but with prose. His short non-fiction story, "Isolationist," begins with an airport pickup and ends on the cusp of war. There is much here on which to chew and muse on, from his own experiences as an F-16 jockey turned commercial aviator. His poem "Did Joseph Heller Know King David?" also made me laugh on a biblical scale, and his "Quid Pro Quo" made me cry like a dad.

Poet David S. Pointer is here, too, with his signature stream-of-consciousness style spat out like bullets, or bomblets. His "Serious Psychological Development" invites multiple readings. I often discover myself reading his work aloud, and always find different targets with each round.

Chandler's and Pointer's works each deserve to be read all at once, in all their pithy and punchy glory. I'll not quote them here, for fear of spoiling the surprises.

Storyteller, poet, and former sailor Travis Klempan is here. I recently had the good fortune to meet at the Military Experience & the Arts Symposium in Lawton, Oklahoma. His poem "Christmas in Bamyan" echoed my own reactions to Afghanistan's archeological demise, but he achieves a far grander voice and effect than I. I also enjoyed the implied interconnections to Chandler's kingly theme, and to Lyke's editorial manifesto. Here's a taste of Klempan's work:

[…] Goat bones and battery packs—the long cold detritus of war and forgetfulness.
For weren’t we born without kings?
What reasoning madness compels us to stay, standing
In long lines waiting, turn after turn, the saddening gyre rolling onwards? […]

If all this isn't enough to move you to subscribe, check out the FREE sample short story "Road Construction," by Samuel Chamberlain, is available at the Line of Advance blog here.

Contest: Write a 'Pearl Harbor Speech' for Year 2041

In a short-fuze writing contest, the Atlantic Council's "Art of Future War" project is soliciting short, speculative creative writing that presents a future U.S. president's message after the country has experienced a Pearl Harbor-like attack, circa 2041. Deadline is Mon., Dec. 15, 2014.

The title of the contest is: "What Will The Next Pearl Harbor Be?" The submissions call reads, in part:

What would a Pearl Harbor-like surprise for the United States look like in the 2040s? This seven-day Art of Future Warfare challenge seeks a futuristic interpretation of the opening of President Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s "Day of Infamy" address to Congress on December 8, 1941—a day after Japanese forces struck Pearl Harbor with an unexpected attack that would draw America into a global conflict the likes of which the world had never seen. The setting for this challenge is 30 years in the future, but the geography, events and actors included in this presidential address are up to you.

For details and writing prompts, click here.

The purpose of the council's series of "war-art" challenges is to showcase the value of creative thinking in the national security realm and gain insight into the future of warfare. In summer 2015, the organization's Brent Scowcroft Center on International Security plans to publish an electronic compilation of the best of these and other national security themed art and writing.

Other submissions guidelines include:

• Entries should, at a minimum, re-imagine the content of the first four paragraphs of the speech.

• A panel of Atlantic Council experts and War On The Rocks editors will select the winner, who will be announced by Dec. 22, 2015.

• The creator of the best entry will receive a copy of Atlantic Council Strategic Foresight Initiative Director Mat Burrows' new book, "The Future, Declassified: Megatrends That Will Undo the World Unless We Take Action" and an Atlantic Council coffee mug. The best entry and the creative process will be featured on the Art of Future Warfare project website.

• Entries must be the creator's original work.

• Select runner-up entries will be featured on the project's website.

• While authors may publish under a pseudonym, a C.V. or biography is required.

The Atlantic Council project has also issued a "war-art" challenge for longer-form, fictionalized journalistic accounts of events leading to a larger-scale conflict among nations. Stories written for "The Next Great War" challenge should be between 1,500 to 2,500 words. Deadline is Dec. 31, 2014.

The call reads, in part:

It has been said that journalists write the first rough draft of history. Through the rise of radio and television, written accounts still define how the enduring narratives around how we come to understand the historic points at which everything changes. A century ago, an angry nationalist in Sarajevo opportunistically aimed his pistol at the heir to the Austro-Hungarian Empire, killing Archduke Franz Ferdinand on June 28, 1914. What followed was "the war to end all wars." Yet it was not the end. The tank, the machine gun and the warplane wracked Europe’s battlefields for the first time as the conflict set the stage for further tragedy in the 20th Century.

For more details and creative cues, click here.

Comic Book Review: 'Think Tank: Fun with PTSD'

Creators of "Think Tank," a monthly comic book about a super-genius young technologist and his battles from within the U.S. military-industrial complex, this week delivered a one-shot special issue titled "Fun with PTSD."

Published by Top Cow Productions, Inc. via Image Comics, the issue serves as a coda to the black-and-white series' initial 12-issue run. The series will relaunch in July as a full-color version. Think of it as a second season, similar to a TV series, in which the characters will continue in all-new stories.

Co-creator and writer Matt Hawkins reportedly came up with the "Think Tank" concept when his son told him that science was boring. Each issue even bears the warning: "Danger: Reading this book will make you smarter." Together with co-creator and artist Rahsan Ekedal, Hawkins has consistently presented challenging tales of morality and militarization, with gritty stories informed by today's technology forecasts.

Among other items, for example, past issues have featured submersible drones, high-tech camouflage suits, and genetically targeted weapons. As a bonus, each comic book typically features a number of text-only editorial pages, which point readers to additional references regarding the real-world, bleeding-edge technologies introduced in its stories. Think "Tom Clancy meets Danny Dunn" and you're in the ballpark.

The special PTSD issue hit the comic-book store racks, Wed., May 14. The 48-page edition is priced at $4.99, 25-cents of which will be donated to the Wounded Warrior Project. (About what Hawkins nets on a given book, after paying for artwork, publishing, and distribution, he writes.) A 20-page story involves prodigal scientist David Loren's attempt to create a tech-based solution to Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (P.T.S.D.), in order to help save a Navy SEAL friend who is accused of (and admits to) murder. A breathless set of caption boxes introduces the story:

PTSD. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. A brain injury caused by exposure to or experiencing traumatic events. These are common in combat situations.

Less than half the men and women with combat related PTSD see treatment because of a perceived stigmatism of weakness associated with it in military culture.

It's difficult for elite soldiers like Navy SEALs to admit they have a problem. They're trained to control their minds, to be calm in the face of extreme pressure.

The issue also includes 6 pages of "Think Tank" tech talk, and a 3-page teaser story for the next season. Some 10-pages of the issue is a preview of "Wildfire," a new tech-thriller about modified-plant genetics. The latter is also a bit talky, but, like "Think Tank," may grow on some readers—particularly those engaged by edgy predictions of the near-future.

As read by this veteran, "Fun with PTSD" is well-intended, heart-felt, and mostly on target. Sure, the soldiers and scientists are all drop-dead sexy, and the drone-flying puppies are cute as @#$%. This is an entertainment, after all, and it's engaging enough to look past the occasional mistakes in mil-speak. (Note to copy editors: It should be "JAG Corps office," not "JAG core office.")

The special issue's biggest success, however, is in illuminating for new audiences the topic of soldiers' mental health and injury. An entire page of editorial, for example, is dedicated to debunking myths about Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, mostly using government-generated content:

• Myth: PTSD is brought on by a weakness of character. [...]

• Myth: People with PTSD are violent and unpredictable. [...]

• Myth: People with PTSD cannot tolerate the stress of holding down a job.

• Myth: People with PTSD, even those who have recovered, tend to be second-rate workers. [...]

• Myth: Once people develop PTSD, they will never recover. [...]

• Myth: Therapy and self-help are a waste of time. Why bother when you can just take a pill? [...]

• Myth: I can't do anything for a person with PTSD. [...]

For all the chewy facts and myth-busting, however, the comic pages themselves are a bit fuzzy on the details, potentially conflating Traumatic Brain Injury (T.B.I.), PTSD, and military veteran suicide. All are very real problems, and may have some overlap or relation to one another. Casual readers—the ones who skip over Hawkins' discussion points—may be left with the impression that they are all directly related, and probably causal: that TBI begets PTSD begets suicidal thoughts and actions. I'm not an expert, but I'm not sure that's the case.

Readers may also be left with the impression that PTSD could someday be cured by some sort of techno-magical targeted brain-rebuilder. There is no magic bullet, no pill, no therapy or treatment method that works for 100 percent of veterans diagnosed with PTSD. Everyone has their own war, and their own roads to recovery. That's why research and education continue to be so important.

Finally, given the melodramatic storyline, "Think Tank" readers may conclude that all military veterans are somehow mentally broken, "ticking time bombs," or former- or future- murderers. Such characterizations and stereotypes are themselves drivers of the stigmatization some veterans feel regarding mental health status, not only in military environments, but in today's news media.

Still, it's commendable that Hawkins and Ekedal have lobbed a reasonably informed—and informative—wake-up grenade at their readers. War isn't always easily addressed through technology, and neither are its after-effects. Sending the fictional scientist David Loren on an exploration of PTSD was a creative risk worthy of reward and recognition ... and continued conversations by its readers.

*****

The "Think Tank" series has been collected in three hardcopy trade paperbacks: Volume 1, Volume 2, and Volume 3.

Single issues, one-shots, and collections—including the recent "Fun with PTSD" special—are also available in digital formats via Comixology here.

A free PDF sample of Think Tank No. 1 is available from Top Cow Productions here.

Notes from the 2014 Great Plains Writers' Conference

The 2014 Great Plains Writers' Conference featured a discussion among

civil-military stakeholders on the campus of South Dakota State University. Photo: GPWC.

For three days, last week's 38th Annual Great Plains Writers' Conference in Brookings, S.D. delivered inspiring conversations around the theme of "Coming Home: War, Healing, and American Culture." The event took place on the campus of South Dakota State University.

The event was scheduled from Sunday evening, March 23 to Tuesday evening, March 25. Daytime sessions allowed students and faculty to take full advantage of visiting regional and national experts, and to present their own research and writing to the public. Session formats included panel discussions, authorial readings and how-tos, historical overviews, and more. Evenings featured longer-form readings by visiting authors. Via a blog, Facebook and Twitter, organizers posted insights and updates on-line.

My own notebook is full of takeaway tips and memorable moments:

Francis Whitebird, a Vietnam Veteran and 

son of Code Talker Noah Whitebird,

shows off pins that represent the wars

in which his family has fought. The top one

represents the Indian Wars, the last 

one Afghanistan and Iraq. Caption and photo 

by U.S. House of Representatives.

Vietnam War veteran Francis Whitebird and his sons Colin and Brandon, both veterans of the Iraq War, talked about the warrior tradition in their immediate family, and in the Rosebud Sioux tribe. The elder Whitebird talked of how his community would gather and celebrate departing soldiers. "They would sing them off, and then, they would feed everybody," he said. (The practice reminded me of National Guard send-off and homecoming ceremonies.)

Upon their return from war, veterans would be honored by seating them in groups, according to the conflicts in which they served. "In Lakota Country, we have songs about every war, and we had war songs about individuals. My aunt had one of them made up for me." Returning warriors could also take part in "centering" ceremonies, which would bring peace to themselves.

His sons now participate in tribal events as warriors themselves, connecting them to a larger history and culture. Said Connor, "Dad used to wake us up by singing Army Infantry cadences. How you grow up makes a difference. We had chores before school. We made our beds with hospital corners."

"After I got shot in the chest, I decided to go back [to Iraq.]," he continued. "It was a little bit of pride, but I was also thinking about the people who went before me."

*****

It was through a reading by Katey Schultz, author of "Flashes of War," that I came to understand the potential poetic connections of flash fiction and prose-poetry. Flash fiction is described as single-perspective stories that range in approximate length from 250 to 750 words. In her short fiction, Schultz, who has no direct connection to military service, has distilled words and observations into rounds that ring true and on target. The result is part poetry, part story-telling.

Schultz, by the way, also described her technique of generating story prompts from photos and other media. Check out a YouTube video here, which features some of the images she used as cues for short fiction.

*****

GPWC Twitter feed during Charlie Sherpa's presentation on
"Finding and Creating Opportunities in Writing about Military Life."

Founder of the non-profit Veterans Writing Project, Washington, D.C., Ron Capps noted that his organization welcomes participation by military family members, as well as current and past military service members. "Working with Special Forces, we had a saying: 'One is none,'" he said. "There always has to be a back-up. There always has to be a wingman. When you get out, particularly if you're in the National Guard or reserves, your family becomes your wingman."

*****

Rosalie Owens, an on-line course designer and creative-writing instructor for American Military University, noted that her class participants—many of whom currently serve in uniform overseas—recently asked that military ranks be dropped from class discussions. The implied hierarchies were getting in the way of good discussions and communications.

*****

One particularly notable panel brought together campus veterans coordinators, university officials and faculty, and military-science instructors. In that session, presenters considered questions such as:

• How could faculty incorporate military professional development reading lists (here's an example) into their curricula?

• How could military cadet and/or student-veterans use their skills and experiences to document South Dakota veterans' experiences, through writing or other media?

• Could departments or campus groups help establish reading circles or writing workshops to help breach the civil-military divide?

*****

In one evening's event, David Abrams ("Fobbit") and Patrick Hicks ("The Commandant of Lubizec") explored the surprisingly rich common ground between their respective works. Abrams' "Fobbit" (2012) is an Iraq War satire in the spirit and tone of Joseph Heller's novel "Catch 22" (1961).

Hicks' just-released historical novel is a dark and lyrical story of World War II extermination camps.

In short, one would have a hard time imagining two war-themed works more dissimilar than the Fobbit and the Commandant. The connection and comparison suggested by moderator Steven Wingate, however, was in each author's wrestling with the "euphemisms and engines of war." It was one of those magic moments that could only take place at a conference such as this, with creative and thoughtful people sitting face to face, exchanging ideas and insights.

*****

In the conference's culminating evening event, Ron Capps warmed up the crowd gathered for poet Brian Turner (2005's "Here, Bullet" and 2010's "Phantom Noise"). With self-deprecating humor, Capps said he felt his role was similar to that of George Thorogood, who opened for The Rolling Stones in the 1980s. Capps read selections from his upcoming memoir "Seriously Not All Right: Five Wars in Ten Years."

When Turner took the stage, he asked for the house lights to be brought up in the black-box space, creating an opportunity for more conversation. The poetry reading that followed was less rock concert, and more "MTV Unplugged"—alternating blasts of word-music with thought-provoking commentary. "How many have we lost in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan," he asked during one interlude. "Now, what happens if I change the way I say that: How many have we lost in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan?" The slight change in emphasis unlocked whole new layers of meaning.

*****

Disclosure: As a presenter myself at this year's event, my lodging and some land travel was underwritten by the 2014 Great Plains Writers' Conference. The next event is scheduled for March 22-24, 2015, and will explore literary themes and intersections with agriculture, ecology, environmental design, architecture, and more.

On Mil-Blogs, Lessons-Learned, and Why We Write

I remember my parents exchanging through the mail these little 3-inch reel-to-reel audio tapes while my dad was flying into and around Vietnam. He was a navigator on a C-130 Hercules cargo plane during the war there. As a father now myself, I often wonder what it must have been like, to hear my tiny little voice for the first time that way.

When I got word in 2009 that I was soon going to deploy to Afghanistan, I decided that I would start a journal—in part, because I wanted to leave behind my own time capsule, my own snapshots, a version of my own set of audio tapes. I also wanted to be able to one day explain to my children—after they got older, of course—just what was so darned important that I had to leave them and their mom for a whole year of their young lives.

I published those journal entries on the Internet, as a military blog. I was a citizen-soldier, and my Army job involved technologies such as blogs and social media. My bosses in uniform kept asking for my opinions, and I needed some first-hand knowledge. I figured that there's nothing like learning by doing. Besides, it's always better to ask forgiveness than to ask permission, right?

Still, because Army attitudes and policies about bloggers were mixed at the time—indeed, that's why my bosses kept asking for well-grounded opinions—I started writing under a pseudonym. And, as a further experiment in organizational awareness, I didn't tell my bosses about the blog. It was only months later that some of my buddies figured it out, after they recognized a story in which they'd been involved.

What I didn't realize at the time was that I was also creating a useful persona—one that didn't let politics, bad jokes, or rank get in the way of telling good stories. "Charlie Sherpa" wasn't out to get anyone in trouble, or to laugh at anyone's expense but his own. To my surprise, I also found that many of my readers were spouses and families. "My husband doesn't tell me about his day when he gets home from training," one reader wrote. "Thanks for helping explain what he may be going through."

After years of making physical, mental, spiritual, and legal preparations for Afghanistan—and just days before the unit was to leave—I got bumped off the deployment. I decided to stay on the figurative roller coaster, however. I would continue to write a journal, for my buddies, their spouses, and their kids. I followed the Iowa unit as a citizen-solider, and later as a civilian writer, to Mississippi and California and then to Afghanistan. I'm still writing today.

That shouldn't come as a surprise. You see, parallel to my 20 years with the National Guard, I was also a newspaper and magazine editor. I'm now a freelance writer. I even have a specialty, backed up by a graduate degree in architectural studies, in writing "how to" articles about architecture, home remodeling, technology, and neighborhood planning. That's the reason my former commander used to joke about me writing for "Better Hootches and Gardens."

In my military career, I was an Army communications guy. Not public affairs—that's something else. I was all about radios and computers. On weekend drills and active-duty deployments, I was a messenger, rather than media.

Late in my time with the military, however, I fell into a couple of longer-term but temporary active-duty gigs as a "lessons-learned integrator." I was, in effect, a "how-to" writer for Uncle Sam, part of the first state-level National Guard lessons-learned integration ("L2I") team.

My teammate was an Army-trained broadcast journalist. Our mission was to "document and disseminate lessons from deploying and deployed soldiers," in order to inject them back into our state's training efforts. In a fantastic display of laissez-faire leadership, our bosses even empowered us to invite ourselves to any meeting or training event we thought would be relevant.

We called the team "L2I Iowa." The Army Center for Lessons Learned ("CALL") at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, even adopted us as their own. We were an Army of Two.

Here's what I learned as an L2I guy. Nearly everyday, I apply these definitions. It's something of a personal philosophy:

• A "lesson" is knowledge gained from experience.

• A "lesson-learned" knowledge gained from experience that results in a change to organizational or individual behavior.

• "Lessons-learned integration" is the practice of sharing with others that knowledge you've gained from experience. So they don't make the same mistakes you did. And so that we multiply our collective successes.

So, after 5 years of blogging, including a short stint as civilian media embedded with my old unit downrange in Eastern Afghanistan, here's some knowledge gained from experience, put down on paper and the Internet. The usual L2I caveats apply, of course: "Every story is a sample of 1. Your results may vary. Take what advice you need, leave the rest."

*****

Lesson No. 1. Blogging is journalism.

A "blog" is an on-line journal. The words "journaling" and "journalism" share not only a root, but an objective: Document the facts and funnies of the day. Regardless of whether you lock it up in a diary under your bed, or publish it to the World Wide Web, or print it in a newspaper, all that matters is the standards to which you hold yourself as a writer. There are good reporters, and there are bad reporters. And you don't need to call yourself a "journalist" to be a good reporter.

Just remember Sherpatude No. 3: "Never speak with complete authority regarding that which you lack direct knowledge, observation, and/or suppressive fires."

*****

Lesson No. 2: Every deployment is a story. Every story has a beginning, a middle, and an end.

There's a quote attributed to John Paul Vann, who served as a both a military and civilian adviser during the Vietnam War: "We don't have twelve years' experience in Vietnam. We have one year's experience twelve times over." I think about that quote a lot, but I apply it to Afghanistan.

The Iowa National Guard deployments I helped document in 2007 were not the deployments of 2010. Those earlier deployments involved 16-soldier teams of "embedded advisers," who were spread out and partnered up with Afghan troops and police. That whole "advise and assist" theme coming out of Afghanistan today? The National Guard started doing that job in 2003.

By 2010, however, the Iowa National Guard was preparing to send 3,000 citizen-soldiers to Afghanistan as one unit. Army news releases noted it was "the largest deployment of Iowa citizen-soldiers since World War II."

Iowa's 2nd Brigade Combat Team, 34th Infantry "Red Bull" Division (2-34th BCT) arrived in Afghanistan to relieve Vermont's 86th Infantry Brigade Combat Team. Oklahoma's 45th Infantry "Thunderbird" BCT arrived to replace the Red Bull. In each case, state and local media in those states told our respective deployment stories: Beginning, middle, and end. Then, the war moved on. Afghanistan was a moveable feast.

We haven't fought 13 years of war in Afghanistan. We've fought 13 different wars, a year at a time.

The news media hasn't covered 13 years of war in Afghanistan. We've covered the war one state at a time, one unit at a time.

"Beginning, middle, end."

"Wash, rinse, repeat."

*****

3. Everybody has their own war.

In literature, the story goes, every narrative can be reduced to one of two prompts:

• "A hero goes on a journey."

• "A stranger comes to town."

I think a deployment is a combination of the two: "A hero goes on a journey" ... but "a stranger comes back." No, I'm not arguing that all veterans are somehow broken, or crazy, or a potential danger to themselves or others. Military experience, however, is like any major life experience. It changes people. Sometimes, that's a good thing. Sometimes, it leaves scars. And, if you want to write about war, you have to write about those changes.

Why did we go to war in Iraq, or in Afghanistan? In the absence of a grand strategic narrative from our national leaders—or reported context from our media—our veterans are left to answer the question of what their war was all about. A hero goes on a journey, a stranger comes to town, and he or she spends the rest of his days trying to figure what it all meant.

"Everybody has their own war" has become a personal mantra. It's a good reminder to be humble, and to first do no harm—whether in your writing, or your everyday actions, or even just listening to people on social media. Everyone's experiences downrange, after all, were different. Everyone left back at home had experiences, too. We need to listen to each other, regardless of age, gender, color, branch of service, or military job.

Because, while everybody has their own war, people shouldn't have to fight theirs alone.

*****

4. Homecoming is a journey, not a destination.

My journey to Afghanistan may have had an end, but the story didn't stop there. I thought I would pack up my body armor and helmet, write my blog (and perhaps a book), and move out smartly. Instead, I've found myself repeatedly returning to veterans issues and military themes—sometimes, in ways that surprised me.

Some of my words, for example, have been published and republished in venues such as Doonesbury's "The Sandbox," and the Southeast Missouri State University Press "Proud to Be: Writing by American Warriors" anthologies. A 2012 Military Experience and the Arts Symposium on the campus of Eastern Kentucky University, Richmond, was a lightning rod for meeting other veterans and military supporters engaging in creative work. I've also participated as a cast member in a theatrical production of The Telling Project, in which veterans and military family members from all eras shared their own stories of service and sacrifice.

Finally, during the annual Iowa Remembrance Run, I've been humbled to read aloud the names of those Iowans who have given their lives during the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. (Four were "Red Bull" soldiers who deployed in 2010-2011.) Some day soon, I hope, we'll be able to stop adding names to that list.

Meanwhile, there are more and more literary publications focusing on military-themed writing, whether from veterans or others. The telling of our stories is just beginning.

"A lesson is knowledge, gained from experience." Share yours.

I once had a favorite journalism professor—his name was Bob Woodward, but not the one you're thinking of—mark in red in two words of praise in the margins of a term paper I'd written. I try to pass along his encouragement whenever I can, particularly when I'm working with other writers who are veterans or military family members:

"Keep writing!"

Or, like the Red Bull says: "Attack! Attack! Attack!"

Podcaster Seeks Funding for Veteran-Suicide Series

Marine veteran, cancer survivor, and podcaster Timothy Lawson is seeking to crowd-fund a 12-episode series focusing on veteran suicide. "Many of my guests would not feel comfortable in front of a camera, nor do I think their stories would be best presented through print," he says in a Kickstarter video. "Podcasting is a great medium for this."

According to the project's Kickstarter page:

The title of this project is "1, 2, Many" because we have lost one too many service members this way without changing course in how we deal with the issues at hand. But it is also called "1, 2, Many" because the veterans battling depression and suicidal thoughts often hide their struggles; yet once we discover there is one person in our life who has been affected by this, we find that we know a second person, and a third, and many, many more.

Lawson, who is studying broadcast journalism at American University, Washington, D.C., calls the project a mix of journalism and story-telling. He also currently hosts three on-going podcasts, including one for Veteran Empire. "This isn't about the awareness, this isn't about the cause," he says on the Kickstarter video. "This is about giving the listener an audible experience, that will give them a better understanding ... that will make them feel more connected to the stories, the experiences, and the insights on veteran suicides."

Lawson is seeking $6,000 to complete his project, and would release the podcasts starting in June. As of this writing, he is nearly halfway to his crowd-funding objective. The Kickstarter window closes Wed., Mar. 19.

A Facebook page for the project is here.

Did File Photo Reinforce the 'Unstable Vet' Meme?

Blog-editor's update: We just spoke via e-mail to Des Moines Register reporter Clark Kauffman, who is mentioned below. It turns out that, while not attributed to Robert McKevitt in the story as printed, the mention of his past (?) military service was apparently at McKevitt's own insistence. Given that information, the inclusion of the file photo makes sense. In other words—our words—the subject "played the veteran card" himself.

The potential lesson-learned for journalists (and mil-bloggers)? "Not all veterans are broken, but not all veterans are necessarily heroes, either."

That said, writers of all kinds should remain vigilant against both the positive and negative stereotypes of veterans returned from war.

*****

When the Des Moines (Iowa) Register ran a "man bites dog" weird-news story on the front page of its Thurs., Feb. 20 print edition, it also managed to reinforce the negative "hot-tempered, hair-triggered" stereotype of military veterans returned from war.

The story involved Robert McKevitt, 27, of Spirit Lake, who recently lost his unemployment benefits in a December 2013 administrative hearing. (Note: Not exactly breaking news.) In an incident that occurred on an unspecified date at his former employer's Milford, Iowa warehouse, McKevitt reportedly used an 8,000-pound forklift to shake loose a stuck vending-machine candy bar for which he had paid.

The news article, written by investigative reporter Clark Kauffman, is 9 column inches of empty journalistic calories: "It's a familiar tableau: an overpriced vending-machine candy bar dangles on a spiral hook [...]" the article starts. "For most of us, that mini-drama usually ends in defeat. But not for Robert McKevitt of Spirit Lake, whose victory over an uncooperative vending machine ultimately cost him his job."

The print edition went with the straight-laced headline: "Iowan loses cool, job over vending machine."

The on-line edition played it with more snark: "The Twix bar, the forklift, and the fired Iowan." (See also partial screen capture, above.)

The story goes on, but the details are unimportant for the purposes of this discussion. The employer says McKevitt shook the machine and then dropped it with the fork lift. McKevitt says he carefully put the vending machine back against the wall. Either way, he was fired. Fork lifts are dangerous, and vending machines are dangerous, and employers can't afford employees who willfully create dangerous situations. The Red Bull Rising blog does not endorse the misuse of large power equipment. Even if it sounds funny in the papers.

The trouble is, the Des Moines Register also went out of its way to point out that McKevitt is a military veteran.

It did so because editors had a file photo of McKevitt, taken during his 2010-2011 deployment to Afghanistan along with 3,000 other citizen-soldiers of the Iowa Army National Guard's 2nd Brigade Combat Team (B.C.T.), 34th Infantry "Red Bull" Division. So they ran the photo of him, in patrol cap and combat uniform, talking with an civilian at an unspecified Forward Operating Base ("FOB").

The grip of McKevitt's pistol is cropped out in the print edition, but remains in the on-line version. The photo is two-thirds the size of the article's total text.

Kauffman's article also mentions McKevitt's service, probably to make the connection to the adjacent file photo. The article does not confirm whether McKevitt is still a member of the Iowa National Guard, however. It also does not seek to investigate or explain his unusual behavior in any way.

Instead, in words and pictures, the reader is left with the impression that McKevitt's past military service is somehow relevant to the behavior that resulted in his termination. Negative stereotype of veterans as "ticking time bombs"? Confirmed.

Because words matter. And pictures matter even more.

Don't think that veterans are negatively stereotyped? More on that in a minute.

Here's the dilemma presented by this article:

• If McKevitt's status as a veteran is relevant to the story, why make no attempt to constructively address the potential mental-health or cultural implications of veterans returned from deployment?

• If McKevitt's status as a veteran is NOT relevant to the story, then why was the misleading and provocative photo even included? Remember that at least one editor must have waved a yellow flag of caution prior to publication—the weapon in the photo, after all, was cropped out. The photo could have been cropped to just his face. Or, better yet—not used at all.

Kauffman, by the way, is a 2005 Pulitzer finalist, and a past health care reporter for the newspaper. His health-care expertise no doubt got over-ridden at the editorial level. Certainly, his copy in this instance—even given its light-hearted, light-on-news flaws—deserved better treatment than the way it was presented on page.

So did the past work of his Register colleagues, Tony Leys and Rodney White, who embedded with Iowa's 2-34th BCT multiple times during more than a year of coverage, including a few weeks in Afghanistan.

And so, ultimately, did the Register's readers. And the readers of its sister publications. Notably, the latter includes those that specifically serve military audiences.

It turns out that, because of the photograph, another Gannett-owned newspaper picked up the story. The Army Times ran it with the headline, "Guard member fired after using forklift to retrieve Twix from vending machine." (See partial screen capture, left.)

Still think the choice of photo was irrelevant, and not a slur against citizen-soldiers? The Army Times wouldn't have run the article without a military "connection." Its readers, however, were smarter than that. Here's what a couple of Army Times readers wrote in comments:

"This story has nothing to do with the National Guard. Attaching this story to the fact that he is in the National Guard is pointless." 

"The fact that this employee happened to be in the Guard has no relevance to his civilian employment and thus this story. Stop the Guard bashing."

Back at the Register's on-line story, an Iowa reader wrote: "If a story involves a U.S. veteran, his/her status as a U.S. veteran is relevant in any story regarding employment; in this 'improving' economy, veterans are having an extremely difficult time finding jobs."

Yep. And depicting them as potentially crazy, aggressive, or dangerous doesn't exactly help in the hiring progress, does it?

Of course, some editors might argue that, in the present age of "Support Your Troops" and "Thank You for Your Service," a negative stereotype of veterans can't possibly exist. A file photo of a soldier can't be any different than that of a coach or a teacher, right? This veteran disagrees. So do a couple of Army Times readers.

Others might argue that it was obviously a slow news day, and that the candy-bar article was meant to be read with a snicker, and that veterans should lighten up. After all, didn't readers also see that story Altoona reporter Timothy Meinch, the one that ran on page 4A of the same issue yesterday? "Veterans center celebrates move with ribbon-cutting." See? The Register loves and understands veterans!

Except that the "veteran loses cool, uses forklift to get candy bar" story was front-page news, not page 4A. Editors made that decision, too. Important stuff goes to the front.

Still, the candy bar story reached No. 2 "most popular" on the newspaper's website Thursday. Editors must have known what they were doing.

Final questions:

Would the Register's editors have so blithely mentioned out-of-context an unusually behaving individual's past military service, if the 8,000-pound forklift been a weapon of some sort?

Suppose there's a hypothetical incident of domestic or workplace violence sometime in the future, and someone involved just happens to be a veteran. Are the Register's editors canny enough to use that as teachable moment? To educate readers on issues like mental health, workplace violence, and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (P.T.S.D.)? Or are they just going to jump to conclusions—or worse, cheap laughs?

Here's the short answer: Wait and see. Just don't be the veteran who loses his cool.

Art Project Seeks to Re-brand the Word 'Veteran'

Using words and insights from his fellow military veterans, artist Sean Riordan seeks to take back and rebrand the word "veteran" from society's negative stereotypes. He calls his effort The Vet Project.

In the original 2013 iteration of the project, Riordan collected veteran and civilian quotes via re-purposed ammunition boxes he placed a Baltimore-area tavern. The effort resulted in thousands of contributions, which he synthesized into an 18-piece art installation that combined colored textiles and typography.

Now, through his Vet Project website, Riordan asks contributors to anonymously complete the sentence "Being a veteran is ..." He writes:

We're interested in your honest, unfiltered opinion on what it's like being a Veteran, based upon your own personal experiences.

Use one word to describe what being a Vet is to you, or write an essay. No minimum or maximum reply length. There are no wrong answers.

Any materials submitted are to be treated with respect and integrity, Riordan continues, and personal information will never by shared or published.

Visit The Vet Project website here.

For questions regarding The Vet Project, e-mail: VET@TheVETProject.com

Veterans Day 2013: 'What Sacrifice Has Been'

This poem by Randy Brown originally appeared in "Proud to Be: Writing by American Warriors, Vol. 1," published in 2012 by Southeast Missouri State University Press.

Later this week, the publisher will release a second volume of "Proud to Be" writing and art by veterans, service members, and families. More news on that in tomorrow's Red Bull Rising blog post. In the meantime, have a safe and meaningful Veterans Day. Make sure to keep the focus on your freedoms, family, and friends—and not necessarily the free lunch.

what sacrifice has been

in airports, well-traveled souls
confuse boots with heroes
and buy us sandwiches
while flat-talking boxes buzz

with bullet-lists and mug-shots of the fallen:
3-second shrines
to soldiers they will never know
like you

this war is on us,
they want to say
thanks for your service
have a nice day

they elevate our routine dead
with casual regard and separate
us from them
with unsustaining praise

they do not grasp our names are found
on medals and on stones
and on the lips of friends who’ve seen
what sacrifice has been

During Furlough, We Can Hold the Line on Values

Editor's note: In a week of politics and shutdowns and furloughs, Washington National Guard citizen-soldier Gabriel Russell posted the following essay to friends and family via Facebook. It is noteworthy for its clear voice, and articulation of values. He has graciously granted permission to present the essay as a guest blog. I didn’t know Russell before I read his words, but I'm glad to know him now. I hope you’ll feel the same way.

In his military job, Russell works as a senior enlisted soldier at 205th Regiment (Leadership), where he helps train future Army leaders. In his civilian job, he works as a government employee with a focus on security issues.

It goes without saying, of course, that the views he expresses are his own, and do not necessarily represent or reflect the official positions of any governmental agency.

*****

By Gabriel Russell
gabriel.russell AT takoubasecurity.com

A Safeway store before opening. Source: Wikimedia Commons

Perspective. Got stuck in the lone checkout line at Safeway behind a woman buying groceries with her EBT card (food stamps). She had her teenaged son with her and a huge stack of coupons. I’ve been having a frustrating week. I was wearing coat and tie and probably had a grumpy look on my face when I arrived. The woman working the register kept looking at me apologetically as time went on and the line grew.

The shopper had a coupon for almost every item. She went through that stack of coupons four times slowly because she was missing one. I think she had coupons for apples, soup, pasta, rice, beans, and bread. She was missing a 60 cent coupon for her two cartons of almond milk. She had a list and had calculated to the penny what she could buy, had $70 on her EBT card and $20 or so on a check she had written but she was $1.20 short to finalize the purchase.

I was tempted to pass the woman two bucks but she was already starting to radiate with awkward embarrassment. Her son stood behind her and stared at the floor. Finally the shopper asked the register worker if there was any way she could look through the weekly flier and find the coupon she needed and the worker started paging through it for her.

My irritation dissipated the longer I stood there. Its been a long time since I agonized over $1.20 for food. I’ve never had to do it with a crowd behind me. I could see the time and care she had put into her shopping trip, calculating the cost, clipping coupons, buying cheap healthy food.

I relaxed. I smiled. The coupon was finally found and the sale made. The register worker kept thanking me for my patience. I suppose these days most folks expect a certain amount of eye-rolling and grimacing when a customer is inconvenienced for a few minutes. We’re very busy people.

By Monday, the shutdown will have cost me enough from a plane ticket change fee and a lost weekend of National Guard wages that it will sting. But I won’t miss a meal, or even skimp. I won’t miss a mortgage payment. I won’t fear for my phone or electricity being shut off. I have friends that may. I’m grateful for all that America has given me. I’m glad my wife has a good-paying job.

Not everyone is so lucky. We have young National Guard soldiers here in Washington State that rely on their drill pay for food and lodging and on military tuition assistance to pay for college. They won’t be getting either due to the shutdown. Each of them volunteered to serve in their nation’s military during time of war, uncertain of the cost.

This will likely, hopefully, be resolved before my young soldiers or friends in federal service even have time to apply for food stamps or unemployment. But not, perhaps, before a few missed payments, missed meals, and sleepless nights. It bothers me to see them treated this way.

The legislative branch of our government has its work cut out for it. I’d like to see them take up that task with the same zeal, teamwork and selfless sense of service to nation and community I see in the young soldiers and law-enforcement officers that work for me. I’d like that a great deal.

All I did ... the best I did today ... was to stand patiently in line behind someone less fortunate than myself and not act like a complete ass. The woman at the register seemed appreciative. Almost like she expected me to be annoyed. Is this what we’ve come to? Is this what people expect?

Patience. Compassion. Persistence. Teamwork. I expect these attributes of my most junior employees.

I expect them of myself.

I expect them of my government.