By Anonymous

In 2008, as a young second tour Naval officer, I deployed as AOIC of a security division securing the two Iraqi Oil Terminals (ABOT and KAAOT^[1]), inbound tankers and training for the Iraqi Marines. Through these two terminals flow over 80% of the Iraqi GDP; literal lifeblood to the Iraqi economy vital in the post-Saddam Hussein era.

Half-way through the seven month deployment to keep complacency at bay and provide variety to the mission set, “The LT,” myself, and about half of the teams swapped terminals. ABOT had more “action”: frequent security sweeps of inbound tankers and an urgent need to train the Iraqi Marines due to the turnover timeline at the time. KAAOT was a little closer to Iranian waters and had all the command and control for terminal security and ship sector coverage.

Within minutes after the swap, my senior enlisted pulled me aside. “Sir, we have a problem.” Of course we do, there’s always problems. “Not like this. ‘The LT’ rode the last security sweep. Once they moored, he decided he didn’t like how long it was taking for the brow to go down, so he placed his sidearm in condition 1 and pointed it at the line handler.” I’m sorry – did you just say he pointed a loaded weapon at an unarmed civilian? “Yes, sir.” A loaded weapon? At an unarmed oil terminal worker? “Yes, sir.” 

‘At a loss’ barely scratches the surface of how unprepared I was for this situation. So I asked: Senior, what do you think we should do? “Get some statements, sir.” Great idea, let’s get a statement from everyone.  I had a stack of statements by dinner. I read them all. Twice. Three times. A fourth. “The LT” routinely: placed his weapon in condition 1 when walking to the “Iraqi” side of the terminal. He was observed to have dropped ammo into the water without reporting it. The entire boarding team corroborated the story about pointing a loaded weapon at a civilian. Cursed at, spit on and generally harassed his (my!) Sailors. I wasn’t stunned; I was paralyzed. Not doing something wasn’t an option. But I had no idea what to do.

I emailed our XO, attaching the scanned statements. He wrote back quickly, directing me to board the next resupply tug to talk to the Commodore. Within 24 hrs, I was sitting in front of the Commodore. His Command Master Chief was walking around the room swearing violently, vocalizing the utter disbelief I felt when I read the statements. The Commodore asked for my version: I said, the statements stand for themselves. However, I had not seen “The LT” act like that at any point in our interactions. He asked me what he should do. I remember thinking: Why are you asking me?! I have no idea, that’s why I’m here! But what I said was: “I can’t have him on the terminals any more.” “Done.” the Commodore said. “XO, he’s on the next tug back.”

Just like that I fired “The LT”. Or, more correctly, I had him fired.

Objectively, his actions were wrong – criminal, even. I do not regret the outcome. The part that grates against my personal phronesis^[2], which I didn’t do and that I reflect on to this day, is confront him personally. I remember thinking that I should, then I decided not to. A whole host of reasons spring to mind on why, then and now. The outcome would have been the same, because it must be: there is no place for that behavior. But there are three sides to every story: the two sides presented and the truth. I never heard his side.

[1] Al Basrah Oil Terminal (ABOT), Khor al-Amaya Oil Terminal (KAAOT). 

[2] Phronesis: Practical Wisdom. Originates from Ancient Greek philosophy and can be best summarized as: the ability to do the right thing, at the right time, for the right reason.

Bio: The author remains on active duty, recently surpassing the 15 year point. Apart from reading voraciously, they are fond of diving, hiking, and running – with a new found enjoyment of ultra-marathons. Their first ultra was completed using training plans from MTI.

All “The Professional Decision I Most Regret” Essays

By Cameron Gallegos

The professional decision I most regret was leaving North Metro. I worked my ass off the get there. I worked even harder to gain a great reputation, a little respect, and a start to a very promising career. I was on good crews and ran good calls.

I left because I didn’t think it was enough. I wanted to be on better crews and run better calls. I wanted higher standards and thought I was surrounded by low standards as a department. I thought we could do better and didn’t think we had the people to do it. I sold people short and didn’t put in the rest of the work. The actual hard stuff.

There was, as anything, more to it of course. There was my family first and foremost. There was a hellacious commute. There was some PTSD that I was reacting to at the time.

Although I didn’t realize it until later. I had my mind made up so when I consulted some advice, I gave a pretty good pitch for why it was a good reason to move. They really had no way to convince me. I wouldn’t have listened anyway. I rarely do when it’s not the advice I want to hear.

It was between moving back to Montana where my family was happy and staying where we were (where they were also happy, but it wasn’t Montana.)

It was between leaving my big department with a ton of potential to go back to a much smaller department with some potential as well. I convinced those around me that I could be happy at my new department. I could help create something there. I always had the trump card in my argument that no one questions; “It’s for my family.” Everybody agrees with you when you say that.

I thought ideologically that it doesn’t matter where you work. If you can bring it every day you can create amazing things, change culture, and be every bit as good as the big boys. I was wrong.

Now that I’m here I realize that what I thought were big problems at my last department, really weren’t. I realize I completely overlooked the great things my department had.

Our people were empowered and we had a ton of freedom to go our own directions. We just needed some guidance to break some poor habits that had been created. That takes work. Changing culture is hard. They took care of us and we were moving in the right direction. There were some great people I didn’t appreciate that could easily be swayed in the right direction. I could’ve done better in seeking those changes instead lamenting the fact we didn’t have them already. I could’ve capitalized on our strengths and worked with the good people that were there to raise the standards of the underperformers. I didn’t put in the work. Instead, I left. And I miss it.

Ironically I have the opportunity to go back. I’ve never been more unhappy in a job than where I am now. The shortcomings of my previous department are minute compared to the gaping holes of my current department. The only thing I like about my job is the days off. That is not why I’m in this career, I truly love it. I’m torn to whether to go back and try to pick up where I left off, or  buckle up and dig in for a long fight to try an improve where I’m at. The last thing I want is to have two professional decisions I most regret.   

Cam Gallegos is a two sport college athlete that studied exercise science. “I’ve been in the fire service for 12 years. I spend my off days in the mountains and rivers with my family. I’ve worked for several different departments, big and small. I’m still trying to find the balance.”

All “The Professional Decision I Most Regret” Essays

By Joshua Wiedeman

“By seeking and blundering we learn. ” -Johann Wolfgang van Goethe

“Sir, you’re a little bit low on altitude again and right of course.”

This was probably the third time my PI (Copilot) had deviated from our assigned altitude and course on this given flight and it was one more thing that I really didn’t want to have to focus on, we had more on our plate at the moment than basic instrument flight to worry about. He made some attempts at correcting both issues with little success.

“I have the controls” I barked as I reached to grab the collective, cyclic, and pedals.

“Correcting altitude and course, please plug our next point into the GPS.” “Roger”, the 1LT responded as he began to attempt to program the GPS, accidentally deleting the current point and failing to plug in the next one.

My frustration continued to grow, though I couldn’t say I was altogether surprised given our previous flights as a crew. So far, this flight in solid Instrument conditions (in the clouds without outside visual references from the cockpit) had consisted of me programming all the radios and navigation equipment then taking back the flight controls to fix altitude, airspeed, and course. This time, before I could give him the flight controls and fix our GPS, “Murphy” struck.

“I have a Master Caution, Trim Light, and an ‘AS’ light illuminated”, the Lieutenant advised me. I searched my memory for any immediate steps that should be taken, coming up with nothing. “Roger”, I said as I reset the Master Caution and considered the impact this could have on the rest of the flight.

When it rains, however, it pours. Another Master Caution light illuminated, this time with a Main Module Chip light as well. This is one that everyone in the UH-60 community knows without hesitation, “Land as soon as Possible”. With an hour remaining on our flight plan, I decided to amend the plan and perform a preprogrammed Emergency GPS approach and by a miracle after working through a variety of other emergencies, we “broke out” of the clouds and landed the helicopter in a field.

Our Simulator period was over. In this case the part of “Murphy” was played by the most infamous Instrument Evaluator and Instructor Pilot in our organization who had been diligently providing simulated environmental and aircraft emergencies for us to respond to.

While we had “survived” the period, it was by far the most humbling and humiliating evaluation I had received at that point in my aviation career. The result, though I did pass, was a hard talk from the evaluator regarding my performance and knowledge of what was going on.

For some of us the words “surprised” and “disappointed” carry a very heavy impact when used to describe our performance. This was no exception. This scenario is not what I would consider to be a professional regret, (though I do regret my performance on that day), but the manifestation of my greatest professional regret. Lack of Ownership.

“Courage is not simply one of the virtues but the form of every virtue at the testing point, which means at the point of highest reality. ” (Lewis)

Though Integrity and Courage have always been among my most admired traits and I believe most of my peers and supervisors would classify me as abiding by them, the reality is that I know where my weaknesses lay.

Anyone that has studied the psychology of instruction is familiar with “Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs” and more specifically our need for Self Actualization. This is what I would describe to folks within our career-field as ownership.

It would be easy for me to come up with excuses for my performance as described above (and don’t think I haven’t tried doing this to myself).

• “I was still a little shaky from the night before” (a night in Germany after being deployed for months and not having any alcohol, you can see where that might lead),
• “I hadn’t flown instruments at all because there was a usable airspace structure where we were deployed”,
• “My PI was weak on the basics which caused me to be distracted”; you get the idea.

What is missing from these defenses though, because that’s exactly what they are, is ownership. My failures during that flight period all come back to a lack of the discipline that should have been found in the ownership of my profession. That issue was not a new issue but one that extended back to my first days in the unit.

I had become intimidated by the culture within our organization and responded by focusing more on trying to look good for the Instructors and Pilots in Command than actually caring about the mission. This left gaping holes in both my knowledge base and experience base that need not have existed. I was scared into only studying the things I believed would be asked on an evaluation and it let me down.

That year of deployment along with the mentorship of that Evaluator, another Instructor who instilled in me his passion for the Medevac mission, and a phenomenal Battalion Commander opened my eyes to that missing piece of my career. Now, being an Instructor myself, I try to teach this philosophy to young aviators and save them from having to learn this lesson through years of experience.

This lesson can be summed up as this: We exist within a career field that is more than just a job, it’s a profession. That being the case, it deserves our attention and diligence for its own sake, not for the sake of impressing others. Every bit of training we conduct, from our personal fitness to the detailed doctrine that we are expected to know and apply, should be for the purpose of owning our given mission and performing it at the highest level of proficiency. It’s all about accomplishing the mission.

Works Cited
Lewis, C.S. The Screwtape Letters. London: Geoffrey Bles, 1942. Print

Joshua Wiedeman is an Aviation Safety Officer and UH-60 Instructor Pilot/Medevac Pilot for the Indiana Army National Guard. Notable missions include deployments in support of Kosovo Forces with 2-238^th GSAB and various domestic disasters such as Hurricane Florence. He is currently the Lead Search and Rescue Pilot and OIC for the Indiana Helicopter Aquatic Rescue Team (IN-HART). Time spent outside of work is primarily spent with family, outdoor adventure, studying history and literature, and writing (it’s a work in progress).

All “The Professional Decision I Most Regret” Essays

By Anonymous

I am a Special Agent with Homeland Security Investigations (HSI). I have been a federal agent for over 11 years. I have held various positions during my career in special operations, intelligence, and investigations.

The decision I regret most is leaving the Special Response Team (SRT) in 2018.

I had just left the United States Border Patrol and joined HSI the year prior and was having a blast. We worked the Southwest Border in Southern California. At about 10 months on the team I was involved in a training accident.

My Assistant Team Leader (ATL) loaded the wrong CS munition into a steal dispersal device designed to be mounted on the front of an armored vehicle. Unbeknown to the rest of the team the ATL placed a Defense Technologies Triple Chaser into the device. Those familiar with the munition may have an idea about what happened next.

Myself and another senior member of the SRT went into a shoot house to film the dispersal of CS. We did not check the munition prior to entering the building; many safety violations were made. There was a short pause after the pin was pulled on the munition. Typically, CS would begin pouring into the shoot house. Due to the ATL using the wrong munition there was an explosion. A large portion of the device flew into the shoot house and struck my teammate, who was standing next to me. His left leg was severely damaged, the right was missing a good chunk. I had to apply multiple tourniquets. It was touch and go for a while but my friend survived. His recovery is ongoing.

After the incident my first inclination was to quit. How could I trust these guys on a real operation ever again? I decided to stay while my partner was recovering in the ICU. But several weeks later I noticed another unrelated and minor safety violation. I immediately quit the team. In the weeks after the accident I had spoken with my father, a retired SWAT officer, and my wife, a medical doctor. Both had encouraged me to leave. My wife and I had a baby on the way and I needed to focus on my family.

I knew it was the wrong move because I instantly regretted it. I had that feeling of “buyer’s remorse”.

I don’t think my old man or wife led me astray. They were worried about my safety. The way I see it now I could have been the change I wanted to see on the team.

I know in reading this you may think this team was some kind of joke due to the egregious safety violation that resulted in such a terrible accident. The team is squared away and very capable. It was one mistake. A big one. But an isolated incident. The ATL is no longer on the team and there have been some other personnel changes.

At the time of the accident I was very into the SWAT thing. It was what I enjoyed most about the job. It probably isn’t too late to go back. Maybe writing this will be the catalyst for another go at the team.

Even though I made the decision a few weeks after the accident it was still too fresh. There were still too many emotions involved. With hindsight I should have taken some time away from the team but not quit outright.

Sometimes I jump into a decision too soon. I should have let time pass, maybe waited until after my daughter was born. Take a few steps away from the situation and come at it with a strictly logical perspective.

Questions? Email coach@mtntactical.com

Comments? Please enter your comment below.

All “The Professional Decision I Most Regret” Essays

By Brandon Eddleman

“Don’t dwell on the past. Look to the future”, I’m sure at some point, in all of our lives, we’ve heard or said this very statement. Just move on. So simple to spout and, yet, so hard to live.

If you’re anything like me, when the chips are down and you’re feeling low, there’s nothing, quite like, a nice game of Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda to give yourself that nice little hit of dopamine to raise the ol’ spirits.

When I’m deep in the throes of these fantasy mental masturbation sessions, I find myself circling back to one moment in time. A moment that would have changed everything in my life. A moment where had I chosen differently, I would not be the person I am today. I like to think, I would be a much better person, had the choice gone the other way.

About ten years ago, I got it into my head that I wanted to be a Green Beret. I obsessed over it. I consumed every bit of media available to me. I bought every book. I talked to every person I had ever known that had ever been in any branch of the military. I was given good advice by those that cared, and I was given bad advice by those that didn’t know. I tried to conjure every ounce of knowledge I could to make an informed decision, but I had one issue. I had competing desires.

I was twenty-eight years old, at the time, and I had been working, slowly but surely, on my college degree for the better part of a decade. I wanted to finish, and I wanted to finish bad. Which did I want more? That was the question.

The thought of waiting several more years, until after special forces training was complete, to finish college was gut wrenching for me. Thinking I had no other alternative, I was ready to just bite the bullet, take the 18 X-ray contract, and do what I had to do, and then, I discovered something that would change everything.

National Guard Special Forces! Where have you been all my life? I could finish school and tryout for the Green Berets. Win-win, right? I thought so too. So, that’s what I did. That was the choice, right there.

My critical error. I joined the National Guard, served 8 unspectacular years in a conventional unit, got my college degree, and got out at thirty-six years old having never once even tried to attend a Special Forces Readiness Evaluation.

Now, here I sit, looking into my screen, a thirty-seven-year-old out of shape never-was, but by God, I got that degree. In my “if I had to do it all over again” fantasies, I would have taken that 18 X-ray active duty contract and never looked back.

Sure, I might not have made it. That’s always a possibility, but the ache that comes from failure is nothing compared to the agony that comes from never even trying. I think about that decision every single day. Where would I be right now? What would have I accomplished? What kind of man would I be?

If there is one thing to take away from this whole situation it’s this, if you want to accomplish anything great, you must have a single-minded passion. You can’t be split in your commitment. Give it everything, or don’t give it anything.

So, that was it. In hindsight, that is my biggest regret, but you know what they say about hindsight.

Brandon is an Operations Supervisor in Portland, Oregon, working towards his MBA.

All “The Professional Decision I Most Regret” Essays

By Anonymous

I own a multi-disciplinary pain clinic in Calgary.  Young professionals move here for the proximity to the mountains as well as the quality of life their high paying jobs afford.  They tend to be weekend warriors, sitting all day during the week and then going all-out on the weekends.  The demand for help with sprains and strains is high.

During the last oil boom, we grew our clinic by accumulating therapists to meet this demand and thereby increased our revenues.  Therapists are typically paid a percentage of 60% of the service they provide; I supply the patients and they supply the service.  The idea is that if a therapist wants to earn more money, they need to see more patients.

I had one therapist who worked harder than most, had a great attitude and even worked Sundays for her clients without a receptionist working the front desk for her.  She was trustworthy and loyal to me and our clinic.  She worked Wednesday to Sunday, rarely took time off and if she had to take time away she always gave a lot of notice.  She was good at her job and she cared a great deal about helping people recover quickly from their injuries.  Her positive energy was consistent and she was in great physical shape, representing the lifestyle we promote for long term health.  She typically produced $8000/month in services where she earned $5000/month and generated about $3000/month for the clinic.

At about 3 years of working in my clinic she asked to pay a smaller percentage – 30% instead of 40%.  I told her I would think about it and after running some numbers I realized that I would lose $500 per month.  At the same time the oil boom was slowing as was patient demand for our services.  I told her that I wouldn’t make a change in her percentage.  My excuse was that if I did it for her I would have to do it for all therapists.  Later my accountant reinforced that she was fortunate to work in such a busy clinic and that if she wanted more money she should work more.  He said I was being reasonable.

Things changed after that.  Patients we co-managed seemed to pull away from my schedule.  Her attitude remained professional but we no longer shared in casual conversation and her body language demonstrated that she was uncomfortable around me.  She was still producing money for the clinic but she began to avoid me.  The demeanor of all of our therapists became somber and quiet conversations went silent when I came around.

It took me a while to realize my error and her influence.  Not giving her a raise had saved me a little money – $6000/year – but it was costing me more than that.  I asked to meet.  At that meeting I agreed to the change.  There she informed me she was leaving.  Her demeanor was cold.  I noticed new business cards on her counter.  I realized that she had already gone.

Within 8 months none of the 5 therapists from that era remained.  Her patient load left with her despite our great location and convenient hours, excluding Sundays.  The clinic revenues fell by around $15,000/month.

In retrospect, I had no awareness of how much a happy colleague means to a clinic or organization.  I also didn’t realize that her seniority was a barometer to others about the stability of the clinic.  She knew her true worth and I did not.  Of course, my accountant is all about the numbers and the bottom line and not the culture of a business.  I have noticed over the years that he has regular staff turnover too.  Mostly, I wonder why I failed to see that stability is worth her making a better living and the clinic measuring success by more than just revenues.

All “The Professional Decision I Most Regret” Essays

Military / National Security / Foreign Affairs

What If Kim Jong Un Dies? Defense One
How China Sees the World, The Atlantic
U.S. Views Of China Plunge During Corona Crisis, Hoover Institute
The Future Is Asian—but Not Chinese, Foreign Policy
The Cheap and Plentiful Vehicles the Army Needs for the Future Battlefield, Modern War Institute
COVID-Proofing Our Military, Hudson Institute
Shabaab targets African Union, Kenyan troops in southern Somalia, Long War Journal
In letter to the Corps, top Marine says Confederate battle flag ‘has the power to inflame feelings of division’, Marine Corps Times
What Will the Future of Human-Robot Teams Actually Look Like?, Modern War Institute
American Troops Had Only Hours to React to Iranian Ballistic Missile Attack. Here’s What They Did, Small Wars Journal
Why the Coronavirus Pandemic is Accelerating the Remaking of World Order in the 2nd Cold War, Pravda Report
After the Coronavirus: America Needs to Reengage with the World, Not Retreat from It, RAND Corp
Beijing’s Nightmare Strategic Scenarios, Strategy Bridge
The Covid-19 Crisis and Future US National Security, Small Wars Journal
Army gives green light to next gen. optic with built in range finder, War is Boring
What Can Military and Civilian Leaders Do to Prevent the Military’s Politicization? War on the Rocks

First Responder / Homeland Security / Wildland Fire

1 dead, 3 critically injured in head-on ambulance crash, FireRescue1
Ronin RescueCast: COVID-19’s impact on the rescue community, FireRescue1
Closing Cases with Technology, Police One
Surviving the Ambush Attack, Police One
Va. police arrest 30 accused child predators in online sting, Police One
Pioneer Peak Hotshots prepare for the fire season, Wildfire Today
Red Flag Warnings Sunday in areas of Montana, North Dakota, and Colorado, Wildfire Today

Mountain

This Cheap Off-Road Camping Trailer Can Follow the Toughest SUVs Anywhere, Gear Patrol
MSR Hubba Hubba NX Review: The One-Tent Quiver, Gearjunkie
Bikes Thrive Amid ‘Corona-Buying’: Could Outdoor Gear Be Next? Gearjunkie
‘Last Call for the Bayou’: A Duck Hunter Stands Up for the Louisiana Shoreline, Gearjunkie
When to Replace Your Camping Gear, Outside
The Best First Aid Kit for Hiking and the Outdoors, Wirecutter
Meet the Fishpeople, Adventure Journal
The Best Backpacking Accessories of 2020, Backpacker
Alpine Knee: Climbing’s Women’s Movement Has Room for Improvement, Climbing Mag
Resorts Explore Season Pass Sales Amid COVID Uncertainty, Powder Mag
Skiing and the Pandemic: Will New Zealand Have a Ski Season?, Powder Mag
Industry Buzz: National parks to reopen, spring climbing, “corona-buying,” The Redside Foundation, SNEWS

Fitness / Health / Nutrition

Coronavirus: Has Sweden got its science right? BBC
Army Research Shows How Do-It-Yourself Facemasks Can Be as Safe as N95s, Defense One
Stanford Doctor Explains Why Coronavirus Lockdown Policies Need To End: ‘Ignore The Panic And Rely On Facts’, Hoover Institute
The Second Wave of COVID Consequences, Rand Corp
Link between obesity and sleep loss, Science Daily
5 Reasons Why High-Rep Bodyweight Workouts Are Hurting You, Breaking Muscle
Complex and Contrast Training: Does Strength and Power Training Sequence Affect Performance-Based Adaptations in Team Sports? A Systematic Review and Meta-analysis, JSCR
Performance in 100-km Ultramarathoners—At Which Age, It Reaches Its Peak?, JSCR
Barbell Squat Relative Strength as an Identifier for Lower Extremity Injury in Collegiate Athletes, JSCR
In Race for a Coronavirus Vaccine, an Oxford Group Leaps Ahead, NY Times
Why Hard Exercise Feels Worse When You’re Alone, Outside

By Rob Shaul

MTI is calling for experienced remote lab rats for an upcoming, narrow and focused, 1-Day Mini-Study comparing 1RM (1x repetition maximum) Back Squat to 1RM Trap Bar Dead Lift.

Functionally I consider both lifts similar both in mechanics and the muscles they challenge. This quick study will test this similarity in real terms, by comparing the 1RMs of both exercises for the same athlete.

Moving forward, I’m considering a simplification/modification of MTI’s Relative Strength Assessment by replacing the front squat in the current assessment with the back squat for all non-US Army athletes, and the trap bar dead lift for US Army members – given the use of that exercise in the new ACFT.

This mini-study will be held next Monday, April 27th, 2020.

Details

Required Equipment: Rack, Barbell and plates for the Back Squat. Trap Bar and Plates for the Trap Bar Dead Lift

Lab Rats will work up to their 1RM Back Squat at the beginning of Monday’s session, and work up to their Trap Bar Dead Lift 1RM after a short rest. 

After finding their 1RMs, lab rats will email rob@mtntactical.com their:

• Back Squat 1RM
• Trap Bar Dead Lift 1RM
• height/weight/age

To Participate

• You’ll need access to the required equipment
• You’ll need to be an experienced, fit, athlete, familiar with both exercises and working up to your 1RM
• The study will be held Monday, April 27, 2020.

I will send out the testing protocols prior to Monday.

Want to be an MTI Lab Rat?

Please email rob@mtntactical.com, and put “Back Squat / TBDL Lab Rat” in the subject line.

Please include:

• your age
• training experience
• Verify you have access to the required equipment and can complete the 1RMs on Monday, April 27th.

You’ll be added to the list and provided with further instructions.

APPLY NOW