No Better Friend, No Worse Enemy

by Jim Proser

  The fact that war and politics often use the same terms, as Mattis and his future platoon leader classmates are learning, is because they are actually parts of the same phenomenon. Among their fundamental classroom textbooks is On War by German general Carl von Clausewitz. The general clarifies the eternal truth of the dance between war and politics: “War is simply the continuation of state policy by other means.”

  Along with other diplomatic efforts by Secretary of State Henry Kissinger, Nixon’s nuclear-armed feint causes peace talks to begin again and continue for the next three years. In this time, Mattis finds himself becoming more comfortable with the prospect of military life. It appeals to his need for clear direction. It tests his strength and intelligence, and demands that he face the big questions still lurking in his young mind about morality, duty, and the killing of other human beings for a government. Mattis graduates from the PLC as a second lieutenant in the Marine Corps, skilled as a rifleman and fledgling leader of Marines, about the time a major breakthrough in the peace talks occurs.

  On May 8, 1972, under intense domestic pressure to end the war, President Nixon accepts a cease-fire. He will withdraw from South Vietnam, but will do so without North Vietnam reciprocating. For any student of war, and probably for Mattis by this time, this is obviously a tactical blunder. Nixon seems to believe that America’s mighty military has reached its practical limit. He also seems to believe that political negotiation alone can conclude the war. Within ten days Kissinger returns from Paris and holds a press conference in Washington. He naively announces, in a statement reminiscent of British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain after concluding a similar agreement with Adolf Hitler, that “peace is at hand.”8

  This cease-fire agreement is simply a political counterfeint by Nixon’s adversaries, Ho Chi Minh, the Communist leader of North Vietnam, and his commanding general Nguyen Giap, both ardent followers of another master of politics and warfare, Chinese general Sun Tzu. In this counterfeint, the true offensive action will take place on the ground in Vietnam. When America has withdrawn nearly all of its forces and is at its weakest militarily, the North Vietnamese launch the 1975 Spring Offensive. America is driven out of Vietnam in a humiliating rout, just as the French were twenty years before them. It is a hammer blow that destroys America’s confidence and powerful military legacy. In defeat and disgrace, America retreats from the world stage, buries its fifty thousand war dead, and turns against its own military.

  It is a disheartening time to be seen in the uniforms of the United States military, but Mattis is now committed to pursue his higher education through the Marine Corps. He wears the cloth and Prussian “high and tight” haircut that marks him as a Marine. In many parts of America, military uniforms are drawing insults and hard stares. Soldiers and Marines returning from war through San Francisco airport are met by violent crowds, spit on, and called “baby killers” to their face.

  In spite of this reflected disgrace and open disrespect, Mattis’s commitment to the Marine Corps extends through his achievement of a master’s degree in history from the Marine Corps Command and Staff College. Particularly useful for a career in the Marine Corps is his study of the recently translated Chinese general Sun Tzu. Perhaps like the rest of the country, which is seeking inner peace through the new imports of Eastern philosophies, he absorbs lessons from Sun Tzu that were well applied by the victorious Nguyen Giap. Sun Tzu says, in his Art of War, on the skills a general should possess: “The four desires are: desire for the extraordinary and unexpected in strategy, desire for thoroughness in security, desire for calm among the masses, and desire for unity of hearts and minds.”9 The phrase “hearts and minds” has entered the English language too late to help America in Vietnam, but it comes in time to help prepare Mattis and his warrior classmates for wars to come in the East.

  The Eastern philosophy of Taoism is fundamental to the understanding of Sun Tzu. In Taoism, the concept of yin and yang—of duality, derived from the observation of the ebb and flow of the natural world—is essential. The roots of Taoism go back at least to the fourth century BC, where it began in the philosophical School of Naturalists, also called the School of Yin-yang, derived from one of the oldest texts of Chinese culture, the Yijing, which offers a philosophy to regulate human behavior based on the alternating cycles of nature. Taoist strategies are often “peaceful and passive, favoring silence over speech.” This form of communication avoids confrontation and accents the spiritual, and thus the political solution to the human invention of war. No doubt deeply appealing to Mattis as a student of history and the natural world, the duality of Taoism seems to have informed his approach to warfare profoundly.

  Mattis seems completely comfortable with the opposing yin and yang of compassion and violence in his later statements to his men—“Be polite. Be professional. But have a plan to kill everyone you meet”10—and to his enemies—“I’m going to plead with you, do not cross us. Because if you do, the survivors will write about what we do here for 10,000 years.”11 This philosophy also seems to be at the heart of the motto he later popularizes for Marines of the First Marine Division: “No better friend, no worse enemy.”

  Along with Mattis, America’s top corporate leaders are soon quoting Sun Tzu. His pithier quotes are being shouted in the locker rooms of leading sports teams and exhorted in the speeches of politicians. As Mattis’s graduate studies of warfare advance through the US Marine Corps Amphibious Warfare School, the pragmatic politics of Thucydides of ancient Greece, the amoral strategies of Niccolo Machiavelli, and the endless debates about Vietnam, Mattis seems to have absorbed the natural interplay, the yin and yang, of warfare and politics.

  20 July 1978

  Captain James Mattis takes command of Kilo Company of the Third Marine Battalion of the Third Marine Division (3/3) under the command of Colonel Ken Jordan, a Vietnam veteran.12 His life is now out of classrooms and onto the rolling decks of warships. In September he deploys as part of the Thirty-First Marine Amphibious Unit (MAU) on a deployment or “float” to the Philippines, Hong Kong, Taiwan, Japan, Okinawa, and Korea. On this float the Marines find boat people, war refugees fleeing the genocides and political purges of the killing fields of Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos in overloaded, open fishing boats, often floating aimlessly and out of fuel in the open sea. In emotional rescues, the Marines are literal lifesavers, and veterans of Vietnam like Jordan are revered by the refugees as faithful brothers in arms.

  The human aftermath of US political defeat in Vietnam and the ensuing political instability crowds every available inch of deck space around Mattis. They fill the sweaty hold of the ship, clutching their children and meager possessions, often shaking with fear and trauma. This is Mattis’s first real-world experience of war as a Marine. As soldiers of the navy, the first in and often the last out of smaller, third-world conflicts, Marines frequently end up with the responsibility for evacuation of war victims. Compassion is a necessary part of an officer’s training and here it is put to the test as Mattis shares overheated sleeping spaces, food, and a few toilets, often for days on end, with successive swarms of desperate, frequently ill people who don’t speak English.

  The 3/3 returns to base at Kaneohe, Hawaii, for additional combat exercises and training. Jordan and his command-level colleagues are tasked with standing up several battalion landing teams (BLTs). They use the Kilauea training area in the mouth of an ancient volcano to simulate helicopter assaults and to launch “seize and defend,” “seize and hold,” and “attack and continue” missions against “aggressor forces” of other Marines, who attempt to confuse and defeat them. Mattis transfers field command of Kilo Company and joins the battalion command center as an S-3 or staff officer. Under the supervision of Jordan, he learns the intricacies of intelligence, operations, and logistics. He evaluates situation reports from the field, issues fragmentary (partial) orders, and masters the logistics of supplying combat companies on the move in battle.

  As if on cue, in November 1979, theocrati
c Iranians overthrow the ruling shah of Iran,13 and students overrun the US Embassy in Tehran, taking fifty-two American hostages. For a month, President Jimmy Carter’s State Department attempts to negotiate with the young revolutionaries. As any student of Thucydides such as Mattis would know, this is a modern repetition of the Melian Dialogue, and destined for failure.

  The Melian Dialogue was between the nearly defenseless Greek island people of Melos and the overwhelmingly powerful military emissaries of Athens who tried to appeal to the Melians’ pragmatism. Instead of fighting a costly war they were certain to lose, they suggested that the Melians should simply surrender under reasonable terms and agree to pay tribute to Athens. The Melians appealed to the Athenians’ sense of decency: they had done nothing to Athens, asked nothing of Athens, and so felt the gods were on their side. Neither side was able to sway the other, and the negotiations failed. Today the Melian Dialogue and its inevitable result is often called political realism. It demonstrates the foolishness of using decency or fairness as a concept in a political negotiation, and that selfish, pragmatic concerns drive wars. Knowing that if they did not attack, they would be seen as weak and invite an attack on themselves from rival Sparta, the Athenians attacked Melos. They killed every man on the island and took every woman into slavery. The Melian culture disappeared from the world.

  President Carter, unlike the warrior Athenians, dickers endlessly with the fanatic Muslim students of Tehran. The students insist on the decency and fairness of reparations for America’s support of the deposed shah of Iran. And so negotiations predictably break down. Yet Carter cannot face the prospect of an annihilating attack on the Iranians, and so, again predictably, invites an attack from America’s rival, the Soviet Union. Seeing Carter’s fecklessness with his overwhelming American military in the face of a few lightly armed students, the Soviet Union, as Sparta in this replay of history, invades Afghanistan on December 24.

  Finally, in response to this Soviet aggression and continuing Iranian intransigence, President Carter acts. He orders a show of force by the Thirty-First MAU, including Mattis and the Third Marine Division, in early February 1980. Not exactly an Athenian annihilation, this display is intended to show the Soviets that America can deploy ground troops to the region if necessary.

  When this bluster fails, Carter orders a helicopter assault on the Tehran embassy—a rescue mission. Mattis and other Marines of the 3/3 are flown from the USS Coral Sea to the USS Nimitz to plan Operation Eagle Claw and prepare a second wave in case the helos fail. The rescue mission goes down in a howling sandstorm. At the cost of two helicopters and crew, Carter abandons the mission. Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, leader of the Muslim students, credits divine intervention on behalf of Islam. His prestige skyrockets, and the theocratic Iranian Revolution solidifies its hold on Iran. Watching this clusterfuck of military and political humiliation, Mattis and three thousand disgusted Marines spend sixty-five days sailing in a circle in the Indian Ocean, “training, doing PT [physical training] on the deck and sweating in the hold.”14 The Soviet Union sends more troops into Afghanistan, ignoring the feckless denunciations of American politicians.

  The 3/3 sails to Perth, Australia, to recover from the morale-killing Operation Eagle Claw. The troops, including a lively group of young Marine lieutenants who, having shaved their heads, are known as the Coneheads after the Saturday Night Live sketch, descend on the pubs and sidewalks of Perth in a frenzy of pent-up frustration.

  US Marines rampaging through Perth, like a combination of Mardi Gras and running with the bulls, has been a tradition since World War II, when Marines turned the Japanese invaders back at Guadalcanal, saving Australia from imminent Japanese invasion and certain conquest. Australians, particularly the young ladies, have never forgotten what the Marines did, and maintain a tradition of offering a particularly warm welcome to them.

  Jordan says of Mattis at this time, “He’d smile and joke with the men, have a drink or two, but never get wild or anything. He was just a good guy and heck of an officer.”15 Lieutenant Dave Pittelkow, one of the Coneheads, remembers, “He wasn’t dancing on the tables like some of the guys. He was a Marine officer. He’d stay and have a laugh with us, then leave early.”16

  By late March, Mattis and the 3/3 are back in Kaneohe, Hawaii. On this Hawaiian island crawling with lonely Marines, Mattis finds an attractive and unattached young lady. Out of deference to Mattis’s family, we’ll call her only by her first name. His relationship with Alice begins slowly, so Mattis keeps it from most of his closest colleagues. However, because she shares his reverential worldview and has a deep appreciation for the Marines Corps, the romance grows.

  He’s ready for this romance. Now a thirty-year-old Marine captain, Mattis has traveled the world, met civilian and military leaders in dozens of nations, and seen much of what the world has to offer. He has tested himself in extreme conditions and passed those tests. Even as he continues his diligent study into the nature of mankind, he has found many of the answers he sought, particularly about himself. He has found his place among men in the brotherhood of arms. His obvious self-confidence and comfort in the simple, Spartan lifestyle of a Marine officer signals his maturity and readiness for a more serious relationship. He relinquishes command in matters of the heart to Alice.

  The lovers’ idyll is short-lived. In April 1980, the Thirty-First MAU, including Mattis and the 3/3, are at sea again, heading to ports of call in Africa, the Middle East, and the Philippines. They are deployed for over three months, returning to Hawaii in July. On August 4, 1980, Mattis assumes command of the relatively new configuration of a weapons company for the 3/3. Until recently, Marine infantry battalions have possessed only four rifle companies, each with a complement of combined arms such as mortars and rifles. Now the 3/3 is to stand up a company that handles specialized weapons systems such as 60- and 81-millimeter mortars and Dragon anti-armor weapons.

  Pittelkow commands weapons company’s Dragon anti-armor platoon under Mattis. While reviewing the performance of Pittelkow’s platoon, Mattis notices the young lieutenant giving orders to his men, but not pitching in quite as much with the physical work of setting up the heavy, dangerous equipment. He pulls his lieutenant aside and counsels him on the shared work ethic of the Marine Corps: “Y’know, Dave, the privilege of command is command. You don’t get a bigger tent.”17

  With his natural talents for organization and his experience as an S-3 operations officer guiding him, Mattis earns this fitness report from Jordan on November 30, 1980: “As the weapons company commander, Capt. Mattis serves as the battalion fire support coordinator, where his duties require detailed knowledge of the control, capabilities and coordination of the supporting arms, in addition to the normal leadership responsibilities faced by a company commander. In all respects, Capt. Mattis consistently performs in an outstanding manner. He is intelligent, confident and highly principled, a stern but positive leader who commands a fine company.”18

  His preparation for married life is also moving ahead. Mattis decides to propose to Alice, and she says yes. They set the date for the ceremony in late June, to coincide with his return from scheduled exercises of the 3/3 in the East. They plan a quiet, private ceremony with close family and few friends. However, a few days before departure, Alice begins having doubts. Being married to a young Marine means a series of months-long deployments, interrupted only by brief periods of intense focus and long hours on Marine Corps business even when at home. There will be frequent moves to different parts of the world, and the constant threat of having officers knocking on her door one day in full dress uniform to deliver the worst possible news. As much as she respects the sacrifices that Marines make, she realizes that she’s not prepared to do the same. The conversation they have will change the course of both of their lives.

  She asks Mattis to resign from the military. His choice is simple: her or the Corps. He cannot have both. Mattis frets over the decision, but ultimately he chooses love. He agrees to resign his
commission and begins the process. The upcoming float will be his last. Alarmed at the loss of such a rising star and well-liked leader, Mattis’s Marines launch a love assault. Their wives and fiancées, some of whom have not before met her, visit Alice. Some bring their men to vouch for the realities of life with a Marine. The avalanche of support is overwhelming. Alice’s deep misgivings subside with this newfound, extended Marine family, people who have pledged their love to her, to Jim, and to their family to come. She finally relents. With only hours before the 3/3 ships out, the June wedding is back on track. Mattis trashes his resignation forms, grabs his sea bag for a long deployment, and heads out the door. He likely stows his rioting emotions with the rest of his gear.

  On February 21, 1981, the 3/3 and Captain Mattis departs on another West Pacific float. The Marines conduct partnered training exercises at sea and on land with elements of the Navy and Marine Air Force as they make ports of call in Okinawa, Korea, Hong Kong, the Philippines, Singapore, Sri Lanka, Diego Garcia, Thailand, and once again, Australia. Nothing stays private very long during months at sea in close quarters, so when they make landfall at various ports, Mattis is repeatedly subjected to hair-raising bachelor parties with the Coneheads and others, particularly in Perth. They are at sea this time for over four months.

  On this deployment he receives the following fitness report from battalion commander Jordan on 25 May 1981:

  Recommended for the Leftwich Award for outstanding leadership, Capt. Mattis exceeds all expectations for tactical knowledge, leadership ability and operational skill. A dedicated, hard-working, dependable officer, he was instrumental in assisting this BLT to attain a score of 97 on the recent CRE [Combat Readiness Evaluation], the highest score in the brigade. His company consistently excels in quantifiable areas, and he sets the example for his men. He is intelligent, and expresses himself well verbally and in writing.19