Unfriendly Fire

by Dr. Nathaniel Frank

  When Arabic speakers like Tierney didn’t work out, the pool of replacements looked grim indeed. In October 2003, Pentagon officials acknowledged to Congress that the military had relaxed its security standards due to a need to fill linguist positions, even hiring people without conducting proper background checks. A Defense Department official admitted that “in our rush to meet the requirements . . . folks were brought on with sort of interim level checks,” since there wasn’t time to worry about all the details until after they were hired. The results, said Charles Abell, undersecretary of defense for personnel and readiness, in testimony before Congress, included cutting corners at Guantánamo, where U.S. military translators serve as essential intermediaries to facilitate communication, logistics, and counterintelligence between interrogators and prisoners. “We found a couple who were not as trustworthy as we had hoped initially,” said Abell. Three translators that year faced espionage charges.58

  WHILE OVERALL DISCHARGE numbers have fallen since 9/11, the firing of Arabic language specialists has not stopped. In January 2006, the army booted an Arabic linguist who graduated from DLI and was outed by a string of anonymous e-mails. The decorated sergeant, Bleu Copas, who was serving in the 82nd Airborne Division, was not open about his sexual orientation, but believes he was targeted by vengeful acquaintances that he confided in unwisely. Inquiry officials wrote in their investigation notes that Copas was “dealing with at least two jealous lovers,” and they theorized that one was behind the e-mails. The e-mail author threatened to “inform your entire battalion of the information I gave you” if commanders did not take action against Copas. They launched an investigation in December and Copas was discharged shortly thereafter.59

  Then, in the spring of 2007, three more Arabic linguists were fired after military officials listened in on conversations conducted on a government computer system that allows intelligence personnel to communicate with troops on the front lines. The total number of Arabic linguists fired under “don’t ask, don’t tell” now stood at fifty-nine.60

  Stephen Benjamin was one of the three. Graduating at the top of his class at DLI, he became a cryptologic interpreter, responsible for collecting and analyzing signals and assigned targets to support combatant commanders and other tactical units. In October 2006, the army inspector general conducted an audit of a government communications system and investigated seventy service members for abusing the system—primarily using it for personal communications. Benjamin was called in for questioning and was asked about a comment he made: “That was so gay—the good gay, not the bad one.” Out of the seventy people, a handful of gays, including Benjamin, were eventually investigated for violations of the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy. The worst abuses of the computer system involved straight people using it to have cybersex, but those violators retained their jobs.61

  Benjamin was already out to nearly everyone he worked with. “The only harm to unit cohesion that was caused was because I was leaving,” he said. “That’s where the real harm is, when they pull valuable members out of a team.” His commanding officers were sorry to lose him. His JAG officer told him the policy was “politically unpopular,” and that military attorneys didn’t like enforcing it. His captain’s evaluation read: “EXCEPTIONAL LEADER. Extremely focused on mission accomplishment. Dedicated to his personal development and that of his sailors. takes pride in his work and promotes professionalism in his subordinates.”62

  When he was discharged, Benjamin was preparing to reenlist for another six years. He volunteered to deploy, hoping to serve in Iraq so he could work in the environment—and with the soldiers—he had directly assisted as an Arabic translator at Fort Gordon, Georgia. “I wanted to go to Iraq so I could be in the environment with the soldiers I was protecting,” he said. Though he could not discuss the details of his intelligence work, he said it involved sending reports with critical information out to the front lines, and he knew that in his work, he “made a difference.”63

  In response to his ouster, Benjamin created a blog, on which he posted a navy administrative memo. It read:

  Diversity is critical to mission accomplishment. Everyone in our navy contributes to mission success and everyone brings to that collective effort unique capabilities and individual talent. How we harness those capabilities and foster that talent bears considerable effect on our ability to successfully accomplish the mission.64

  There were also talented linguists who escaped the clutches of the homosexual discharge machine, but who took themselves out of the picture because the added burdens that gays alone had to bear were too much. Jarrod Chlapowski was so proud of finishing the army’s basic training just months before 9/11 that he had the Chinese character for “honor” tattooed on his shoulder. “That’s the main army value,” he says in the documentary film Ask Not. Chlapowski studied Korean at DLI and graduated as a cryptologic voice interceptor, finishing second in his class. He served in Korea as an interpreter for the 3rd Military Intelligence Battalion on sensitive reconnaissance missions. Eventually he earned the Army Achievement Medal and an Army Commendation Medal for leadership and training.65

  Chlapowski was out to nearly everyone in his unit. Because he didn’t fit stereotypes, he said people were often shocked when he mentioned it, “but I never got a negative response.” He estimated that 80 percent of his unit knew he was gay by the end of his time at DLI. “And no one cared,” he added. On the few occasions he heard crass comments, he recognized that it mostly amounted to people “just kind of ribbing each other.” Still, as time wore on, Chlapowski watched friends and other soldiers get caught up in the jaws of the gay ban, and it led to deepening anxiety. “You’re always going to be paranoid,” he said, adding that someone who knows your open secret could “take issue with it.” When he transferred to a new unit at Fort Lewis, Washington, to train soldiers, he didn’t know anyone there and was unsure of the climate. “I opted to put myself back in the closet and I was miserable,” he said. “Within a few months I knew this was something I couldn’t continue.” Chlapowski chose not to reenlist and left the army in November 2005.66

  The loss of critical talent that results from “don’t ask, don’t tell” is undeniable. It is damaging to the mission and integrity of the armed forces, and by extension, it weakens our security as a nation. But perhaps most maddening of all, it is unnecessary. Why, then, do we let it continue? Unlike world poverty, ethnic conflict in the Middle East, or brain cancer, all of which lack a simple, straightforward solution, the ban on openly gay troops in the military could be ended if a few hundred men and women in the U.S. Congress decided to heed both a growing body of evidence and public opinion polls and vote for its demise. In fact, a few public statements by just a tiny handful of men who have the ear and respect of the military and political establishment could virtually seal the deal, greatly aiding those men and women in Congress to cast the vote that most know is right but are too timid to cast. Yet they don’t speak out and Congress doesn’t overturn the policy. Why? Many simply don’t care. Others worry they would face criticism from colleagues or backlash at the polls. Still others genuinely believe that, despite overwhelming evidence that military readiness does not require closeting gay and lesbian soldiers, letting them serve openly would needlessly saddle military commanders with dangerous new burdens.

  Running through all these reasons is a commitment not to face the truth. And this, every bit as much as the wasted Arabic linguists, counterintelligence officers, artillery operators, pilots, and surgeons, is the insidious nature of “don’t ask, don’t tell.” There is something deeply embarrassing about the most powerful nation in the world imposing a gag rule on itself; we have voluntarily shackled ourselves in order to deny what we know to be true, all in the name of protecting our supposedly fragile soldiers from a phantom gay menace. The gay ban is no less than the stalling of the march toward Enlightenment. The last three centuries of Western civilization have celebrated the ideals of freedom, truth, reason, and self-unders
tanding. In the United States we often consider ourselves to be a world beacon for these efforts. We hallow our Constitution for its use and protection of these traits; we broadcast and praise our commitment to liberty and free speech; and we have framed our war on terrorism as a struggle against sectarian, anti-intellectual, and illiberal forces who are trying to overturn all we hold sacred. Yet “don’t ask, don’t tell” demonstrates that the U.S. government is helping these forces along, to our own detriment. Americans should be asking themselves: What is gained and what is lost by sticking our collective head in the sand?

  10

  Gays Out, Exconvicts In

  WHILE THE PENTAGON WAS BUSY kicking out gay troops who were willing to serve, those it considered qualified were finding other ways to spend their time. Arabic linguists were not the only people that the U.S. military could not find enough of. All four major service branches were plagued throughout the years preceding and following 9/11 with recruitment and retention shortfalls. The problem achieved crisis proportions about two years into the Iraq War. In 2004, Congress approved increasing the size of the army by twenty thousand recruits,1 greatly expanding the challenge of filling all its ranks. And in 2007, President Bush sent twenty thousand additional troops to Iraq in the so-called surge.

  The military had trouble filling and maintaining its ranks for several reasons. One was economic. Whenever the economy is humming along at a brisk pace, potential military recruits are more likely to find jobs in the private sector; during a recession, joining the military may seem more appealing. As a simple cost-benefit analysis, most people will choose higher pay and lower risk of death over the other way around. Despite the lull in the economy following September 11, consistent growth from the late 1990s through 2006 diminished the appeal of the military. Also, the growing opposition to wars in Iraq and Afghanistan has increased reluctance to enlist or stay beyond an initial tour. The sheer number of people needed to fight these wars, which came at a time when leaders like Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld had been planning for a leaner, more agile force, raised the number of slots that needed to be filled, making shortfalls virtually inevitable.

  The gay ban added to the shortfall crisis in several ways: By the end of 2007 there had been more than twelve thousand expulsions. Thousands more never enlisted or left early because of the hostility engendered by the gay ban. And perhaps least acknowledged is the role the gay ban has played in widening the gap between civilian and military culture, alienating a significant chunk of Americans from interest in, or support for, the military simply by virtue of its image as a lumbering bureaucracy that’s out of touch with the modern world.

  Under grilling from Senator John McCain during Sam Nunn’s hearings, Colonel Margarethe Cammermeyer said that children of her coworkers were writing off the military after hearing about her expulsion. “Because of my separation and the regulation that discriminates against homosexuals serving in the military,” she said “they choose not to think about the military as a career.” Thomas Paniccia, a gay staff sergeant in the air force who testified beside Cammermeyer, echoed the point. He cited supportive people from gay groups around the world who would not tell their heterosexual children to join the military “while this ban is in place.”2 The gay ban has exacerbated the military’s recruitment troubles, and it did so both indirectly and directly. Not only did it turn potential recruits—gay and straight—away for reasons of principle, but it hampered recruiters’ access to schools and universities that sought to keep them at bay as long as they continued their discriminatory policy.

  Apologists for the ban point out that the more than twelve thousand “don’t ask, don’t tell” discharges represent a minute percentage of both the entire force and total early discharges each year.3 But the devil is in the details—in the particular jobs that were lost, not the raw figures. The military was canning troops in the very occupational specialties it most desperately needed to fill, and it had to press civilian reservists, ex-convicts, drug abusers, and other underqualified individuals into service in the war on terrorism. The consequences were dire. Rather than preserving unit cohesion by protecting fragile straight men from knowing which coworkers were gay, the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy was reducing combat readiness of the overall force. Due in part to the expulsions of thousands of competent and highly trained gay service members, the military relied ever more on untrained, overburdened, and unwilling troops, serving under terms they had not expected, in units with compromised cohesion, and on tours that outlasted the contracts they had signed.

  In 1998 and 1999, all branches fell short of their recruiting goals. They were able to turn the situation around only after delivering substantial pay increases and enlistment bonuses, hiring hundreds of new recruiters, and pumping hundreds of millions of dollars into new advertising and marketing. The air force introduced television commercials for the first time, more than tripling its advertising budget. Among the reserves, only the Marine Corps met its goals in 1997, 1998, and 1999; the Air Force Reserves fell short by 40 percent. Those who did enlist in the reserves during this period came with less active-duty experience, on average, raising training costs and prompting concern among military officials about a negative “impact on units.” All the reserves raised enlistment bonuses, paying enormous sums for specialists. The army offered $40,000 in educational benefits to doctors who agreed to sign up for duty.4

  In 1999, the air force increased its advertising spending from $12 million to over $56 million, and subsequently announced it would feature air force Thunderbirds on Frosted Flakes cereal boxes in a continuing effort to attract recruits. The navy doubled its recruitment staff and intensified its local television advertising, hiring Spike Lee to direct a glossy new campaign. The navy met its recruitment goals in 1999 only after agreeing to double the number of high school dropouts it would accept. And in 2001, the army met its goals only after spending $150 million on its Army of One television and Internet campaign, and through the unexpected help of a slowing economy.5

  By early 2001, the Marine Corps had fully acknowledged the extent of the problem, and it had a solution. It hired Captain Shawn Haney as a liaison officer to Hollywood and began working with Fox Television on a survival reality show that used Marine sergeants to run a “boot camp.” The hope, Captain Haney said, was to help “give the public a glimpse into the Marine Corps.” Meanwhile, President Bush requested a $5.7 billion increase in the 2002 budget specifically for pay raises, better housing, and greater benefits, all designed to respond to recruitment shortfalls.6

  In the wake of the terrorist attacks of 2001, a surge in patriotism among ordinary Americans helped recruitment bounce back in the active-duty branches. But the gains turned out to be temporary, as the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan took a toll on young Americans’ willingness to sign up or stay in. At the end of 2004, the National Guard said it would triple signing bonuses for certain new recruits and reenlistments after suffering two consecutive months of recruitment shortfalls. In October, the Guard had missed its goals by 30 percent. By year’s end, it was supposed to have 350,000 soldiers but had only 340,000. And because of the war on terrorism and the war in Iraq, the Guard, which is responsible for homeland security as well as serving abroad when called, had to increase its overall rolls. The Army Reserve approved identical bonus increases after its top general, Lieutenant General James Helmly, acknowledged that its recruiting was in “precipitous decline” that could prompt a return to a draft if not reversed.7

  The situation became so dire that Major General Michael Rochelle, head of army recruiting, called 2005 the “toughest recruiting climate ever faced by the all-volunteer army.” In January, the Marine Corps missed its recruitment goal for the first time in nearly ten years. The army made only 73 percent of its target goal in February, 68 percent in March, and 57 percent in April. In some regions, new enlistments were down 20 percent since 2000. In 2005, applications to the three U.S. military academies dropped. Eventually, the Department of Defens
e simply withheld new figures, raising fears that the numbers were too far off even to announce. In an effort to boost recruits, the army replayed its strategy from 1999: It hired hundreds of new recruiters, devoted $100 million for new ads, raised bonuses for some job categories by $2000, and added $20,000 to its college fund. It also raised the maximum age for National Guard and reserve recruits by five years. The Pentagon announced $150,000 bonuses to certain highly trained, badly needed specialists who would agree to remain in the service for another term, the largest amount ever offered. It announced it would double enlistment bonuses for certain high-demand jobs, including linguists. In July, the army announced it would likely miss its recruiting goal for the year, including for the reserve and National Guard. By some estimates, the army was projected to fall short by seven thousand enlistees. These failures came despite the fact that in 2005 the army allotted a record $400 million to bonuses.8

  In July 2005, just as the army announced it would not be able to fill its ranks, a new data analysis of 2000 census figures from the Williams Institute, at the UCLA School of Law, suggested that lifting the gay ban could increase the number of active-duty personnel by 41,000 troops. If gays were allowed to serve openly, concluded the study, the number of gay enlistees would likely rise to approach the service rates of straights, resulting in a significant net gain of new recruits. Another study from the Williams Institute found that the number of losses resulting from “don’t ask don’t tell” is far higher than what the actual discharge figures show. When combined with an estimate of the number of gays and lesbians who leave prematurely because of the policy, the annual figure rises from a few hundred to four thousand.9 These numbers suggested that a large percentage of empty slots in the military would likely be full if the anti-gay policy were ended.