Author: Adam Fenner

The Combat Medic Badge (CMB), like any combat badge, is highly coveted within the community, but I have always felt that the CMB has a distinct spirit, something inherently different from the Combat Infantry Badge (CIB) and the Combat Action Badge (CAB), by the nature of the jobs associated with each one.

When my unit was first told we were deploying it was like ripping a band-aid off. “I look forward to serving with you in Afghanistan,” was all the commander said, before turning it over to the 1SG. The first conversations that took place were done by the elated junior enlisted, who had never been to war, and were all excited to earn their badges.

The scouts and the forward observers chattered in formation beside us about their CABs, and I remember a junior medic saying that he was excited to get his CMB. There are those little moments when you view the world differently after hearing what someone says. This was one of those for me. One of our medics had just returned from Iraq, where he had done convoy security, which is a job I want no part in. With his CMB on his chest, he snatched that young medic (not me) out of formation and dragged him over in front of our own formation, just enough to show him the rest of the troop. The senior medic pointed at all the soldiers and asked the junior medic, “Who gets the Purple Heart to go along with your CMB?”

The kid froze.

They returned to formation, the junior medic and all the other medics in the platoon who had seen this exchange, sufficiently humbled.

The CMB was created in January of 1945. To be eligible for this award, a soldier must first be a medical professional and below the rank of colonel. They must also, “Satisfactorily perform medical duties while the unit is engaged in active ground combat, provided they are personally present and under fire.”

Now, if there is a way to cheat the system and water a badge down, people will find a way to do it, because that is what people do. They want the maximum return for the least amount of effort. The trick to this one is to perform medical duties. To give you an idea of how this badge can be potentially earned, here is a conversation that took place one night on my base in Afghanistan. Our eight-man building had just been rocked by some incoming fire that had landed near by.

“Holy shit, are you guys ok?” one of the Sergeants yelled in the dark room.

Everyone ‘rogered up,’ still half asleep.

“I’ll go check on the rest of the platoon,” another Sergeant said, stumbling out of bed and out the door.

“Congrats, Doc, you just earned your CMB,” a sergeant said.

“What the fuck for?” I asked.

“You asked if we were ok. That is the first step in a patient assessment.”

“I didn’t ask if you were ok,” I replied.

“No, he didn’t,” the platoon sergeant said.

“Wait, no you didn’t. You are the worst medic ever,” he replied.

“Fuck you, too. How about that?” I replied, while we all laughed.

Now, the rest of the platoon was fine, and we all went back to sleep while mortars pounded the point of origin. The important takeaway from this–aside from me being a terrible medic–is how little effort it can take to potentially earn this badge based upon the written criteria. Is that how everyone earns it? No, definitely not. But, as we all know, there are always a few.

Before I joined the military, all I wanted was experience, to be a hardened combat veteran with a chest full of medals. After my first tour, I lost interest in that idea and matured a bit, eventually losing interest in badges and awards completely. Finally, I had a CMB of my own, but those few who watered it down made it difficult for me to put it on.

This was where I was humbled again, this time by a soldier who had received two Purple Hearts. He stopped me while we were out-processing from our mobilization site and stuck his finger in my chest in the empty spot where my CMB should have been. “Where is yours? Are you too good to wear it?”

I didn’t have a response, but the next time he saw me, I was wearing it.

His two Purple Hearts were attached to my CMB, along with several of the other soldiers who were walking around. A cheap CMB recognizes a soldier’s actions, regardless of how strong or weak they had been. When a CMB is earned, it is by the sacrifices of others, and all the medic can do is try to keep them together, until they are in the more capable hands of a doctor.

That is what a CMB is. It is bought with the blood of our friends and comrades. It isn’t about the fight. It is about the sacrifice. Thankfully, it is far less recognizable outside of the military community.

Stolen Valor individuals don’t know it exists for them to slap it on their fake uniforms.

Which I appreciate.

 

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When I first deployed to Afghanistan, there were two badges that were highly sought after: the Combat Infantry Badge (CIB), and the Combat Action Badge (CAB). In the interests of riling up those that may believe one to be superior to the other, I’m going to pair them together and talk about them as if they are the same. Ha. I am going to set the Combat Medic Badge aside because its meaning is separate and distinct from the two above. Also, I don’t have either the CAB or CIB. I’m a medic. We have our own badge. But that is another blog.

The CIB was established October 27, 1943 and was designed to recognize those Infantryman who had served in combat. There are a lot of retroactive issuance and non-availability information, as is outlined in AR 600-8-22, but I’m not going to go into those. The important three criteria must be met to receive this badge. They are:

(1) Be an infantryman satisfactorily performing infantry duties.

(2)  Be assigned to an infantry unit during such time as the unit is engaged in active ground combat.

(3) Actively participate in such ground combat. Campaign or battle credit alone is not sufficient for award of the CIB.

The CAB was established May 5, 2005, but only covers the periods of this most recent conflict. It was designed to recognize the actions of those who have served in combat, but can’t be doubled up with the CIB or the Combat Medic Badge. The three criteria must be met to receive this badge. They are:

(1) It may be awarded to any Soldier.

(2) The soldier must be performing assigned duties in an area where hostile fire pay or imminent danger pay is authorized.

(3) The soldier must be personally present and actively engaging or being engaged by the enemy, and performing satisfactorily in accordance with the prescribed rules of engagement.

Now, the army has rated the CIB as a Group 1 skill badge and the CAB a Group 2, which means if you have been awarded both, then you wear your CIB above your CAB.

I refuse to believe one to be better than the other. After serving on a small base with both mortars and scouts in the same platoon and working together to accomplish the same mission, the only difference between two guys in the same team was that one was a mortarman patrolling as a rifleman, and the other was a scout doing a rifleman’s job. The mortarman receives a CIB and the scout receives a CAB. I don’t see a difference between the two badges. Your MOS doesn’t mean anything;  it’s only what you do when it counts.

Here is where the criticism and debates really begin. The two most recent conflicts have created a watered-down image of these badges, leading many who have truly met all the requirements to stop wearing it, while those who barely made the minimum requirements, wear them with pride. Of course, I say the most recent two conflicts, but I don’t believe in the slightest that the previous generations had any fewer badge chasers than we have now, who are willing to fight harder to be awarded their badge, than they were willing to fight to earn it. Anyone who has been in a combat environment knows what I am referring to: that Captain hiding under his desk during an indirect fire attack, who then stands up after the attack is over and adds the dates to his template award that he had waiting for such an occasion.

I was one of those protesters, refusing to wear my badge because it had been watered-down, and because I thought it carried little meaning–until I was corrected, for two reasons. First, my refusal to wear it in the face of those who hadn’t truly earned it, only watered it down more. If you earned it, wear it. By your silent professionalism, you humble those who think that little badge makes them a better soldier. Second, it isn’t about you. It is about those who were with you. By wearing that badge, you demonstrate pride in those who you stood beside during your conflict. You never do anything alone. Have some pride in that fact.

Now here is the reason that many people forget, while being taken in by the glitz and glamor of badges, that is their original purpose–to identify skill and experience. The idea behind badges is for a commander to walk up to a formation of soldiers, who he doesn’t know, and by looking at them be able to identify their level of experience and responsibility by their rank, and also to be able to identify who his seasoned veterans are. Those who had been tested, the CIB and CAB, tell a commander that you have valuable experience and allow him to potentially utilize you for a better result.

How does this apply to Stolen Valor individuals? The same way it does with everything else. It makes them assholes. If you wear it and you didn’t earn it, you are an asshole. That is all.

For those who have worn out their joints, shed blood, and fired rounds downrange at the enemy, and as a result have been awarded one of these badges, they are a reflection of our experience and our actions when it mattered most.

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It is no secret at this point that a Muslim terrorist organization named Boko Haram kidnapped 239 girls on April 14th. This was done for two reasons: the first to protest their attendance of a school where they were receiving education in something other than the Qu’ran. And the real reason: to gain funding through two methods, the sale of these girls, and access to more funding through terrorist networks once they have officially been branded a terrorist organization by the US.

What does this have to do with Ol’ Staff Sergeant (SSG)? SSG makes a good point, and that is that nothing we say in the U.S. or more specifically on our Facebook pages, matters. Sorry, Miss Hathaway. Hashtags don’t matter. Reposts don’t matter. And a trending topic doesn’t matter. Even if the American and Western governments poured money into Nigeria, it wouldn’t save these girls. Unless. of course we did the unthinkable, which would be to use our intelligence networks to buy these women back, but that is a short-term solution which would only encourage kidnappings in the future.

We certainly can’t trust their own army to bring these women home, especially if they behave anything like the Ugandan army did in 1996 with the Aboke girls. If you want to know more about that check out Jane Bussman’s book, “A Journey to the Dark Heart of Nameless Unspeakable Evil,” or another title specifically concerning the incident, “Aboke Girls.” Simple summary: 139 were kidnapped.  A nun working at the school, from which they were kidnapped, went after them and negotiated the release of 109. The Ugandan army later made an attempt to retrieve the other 30. They came home with 1. Why do I bring that up? Other than to show the difference in the power of a nun and an army, was to show that words don’t mean shit. Lots of words mean the same amount, but doing something, physically going out and doing something, matters.

This was my issue with the entire Kony 2012 deal. It was a video designed to spread awareness. There was a young man Jacob, in the video, who I had the opportunity to meet, when I visited Gulu, Uganda. No one brought him home. Our well wishes didn’t rescue him from the clutches of Joseph Kony, he did. He escaped by his own force of will.

To a population that loves to donate money, but hates to get off their asses and actually sacrifice, were now asking for action. Someone needed to do something, not them, of course, but someone–those people that fix things. The end result was just under 100 special forces operators were deployed to that region of the world to train an army that has been known for its corruption and participation in the human rights violations that they were being trained to prevent. Again, check out Jane’s book.

Are these complex issues? Yes. Very. But in the end, what people wanted, was for us to put boots on the ground and to take care of the bad guys in a way that the Western World could stomach.

That is where we hit a wall. We want justice, but we don’t want to act in a manner that forces us to question morality and the thin gray line separating good from evil. Hollywood drew that line so crystal-clearly. How could we deviate from it? This is the same Hollywood that is supporting these child molesters. The same Americans screaming for action and #bringbackourgirls, would be the same ones spitting on our returning service members for fighting a war against the children that make up the African militias. Because they see our 15-year-old children’s faces in the faces of those 15-year-olds, who are hardened veterans with over five years of jungle war-fighting experience.

This isn’t an easy issue. It isn’t clean, and unless someone who is willing to face some decidedly harsh criticism for how they solve this problem, steps up to the plate, these girls are never going to be seen again, at least not in the condition that they were in when they left the school. Do I have a solution for this problem? Not a PC one. Am I asking for silence, to just stop talking about it? No. I am asking that we truly identify our goals and what we are willing to do to accomplish them, not waste our time and energy thinking that by spreading awareness we are actually accomplishing something.

 

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I am not particularly a Marvel fan, but have always been a Captain America fan; because I’m an American, and it is the right thing to do. I went to the movie with the simple plan to see ol’ Cap punch people really hard and throw his shield around. If you are interested in my idea of the movie, the eleven-year-old who lives inside of me, and who is also very excited for Godzilla and the TMNT (but is disappointed Megan Fox isn’t a redhead), loved the movie. The adult and veteran in me was impressed by the method in which the question of freedom was asked and addressed.

No spoilers here, unless you have yet to see the trailer, in that case–your bad.

The biggest threat in the movie which Captain America needs to address is a program which SHIELD is putting into place, where perceived threats to American security are taken out before they ever act.

Captain’s immediate response was, “I thought the punishment usually came after the crime,” and “This isn’t freedom.”

This is to show the difference between these two ideologies: the Captain’s, who believes in the freedom to live our lives as we choose, and Shield’s, who wants everyone to live in safety and security. Both are founded in merit, but SHIELD is missing an essential point, or they understand it better than many are uncomfortable to admit. Freedom comes with responsibility, more freedom means more responsibility. Every time we ask someone to take care of something for us, we relinquish our decision making power regarding that something, in favor of reduced responsibility: less freedom, less responsibility. However, many people don’t want freedom, they want safety. There is a Benjamin Franklin quote about that.

It isn’t hard for any one of us to see the little points where we have allowed this to happen in our own lives. The big government example being the Patriot act. We have given up privacy in favor of security. The corporate example is similar. We give Facebook and Google that same privacy in favor of the ability to utilize their platforms.

Many people simply don’t mind, or are ignorant. Either way, they have consciously, and many times happily, foregone their freedoms in favor of personal security. This has allowed many to go about their lives, with one, or many less things to worry about.

But, as the Captain said, “This isn’t freedom.” Freedom comes with inherent responsibility, and with that responsibility there exists an assumption of risk. Whether it be the freedom of speech or the second amendment, these freedoms come with an unspoken responsibility. These are responsibilities that, for many, are too great a burden to bear. This is also a part of freedom: the ability to choose to exercise the individual freedoms available. You can speak, but will you? You can choose to defend yourself and others, but will you? Each has an inherent cost and a benefit.

In the end, the battles we fight every day aren’t nearly as exciting as the one Captain America and his friends had to deal with. But this is Hollywood, and who else is going to entertain our inner eleven-year-olds. Our battles are small, but no less important. We also have to understand that Scarlett Johansson, who is probably a really nice person, isn’t going to come save us.

 

In the grab-bag of ribbons that a Stolen Valor participant would be putting on his uniform, if he were to be representing a Marine or Sailor, the Combat Action Ribbon is a must have. Why this one? Why this modest ribbon of blue, gold and red? It isn’t even a medal after all.

First a bit about it.

The Combat Action Ribbon, affectionately called the CAR was authorized under SECNAVNOTE 1650 of 17 February 1969 (If you are searching for it, it is important to include the date). It was awarded to members of the Navy, Marine Corps, Coast Guard (until the Coast Guard created their own in 2008), or units falling under the control of the Navy. It also retroactively awarded it to those who who had met the requirements in prior engagements.

This ribbon was awarded to those who had seen ground combat, and performed satisfactorily. That is the beginning of why this ribbon is so special to those who have earned it. It is the base of all higher awards for valor in combat, and is not even a requirement to receive the Purple Heart. An individual can receive the Purple Heart but not the CAR.

The CAR signifies not only that a person was sent to war, but they had the opportunity to fight. And they did. At least satisfactorily, which is all anyone can ask. It isn’t glamorous, it isn’t publicized, but it is coveted. I was too young when I first got mine, none of my Senior Marines had theirs before I did. But that was early on in Iraq. Since no one had it around us there was no one to be envious of.

I remember my Sergeant Major talking to several young Marines and myself when I first arrived at my unit. I had been in for just over six months at the time, he over 22 years. He told us that he had never had the opportunity to see combat, and here we were just showing up and getting the chance. 22 years before he had the opportunity to try. That was what this ribbon meant to him. It is the culmination of everything we did at home. All the training, all the sweat and time in the field. It was preparation for the opportunity to be under enemy fire, and to perform satisfactorily. That is what it is all about after all. If we aren’t in combat it is just practice.

That is what the CAR is, a simple ribbon of fabric to say that we were tested, and our “performance under fire was satisfactory.”

That is why someone who hasn’t earned this ribbon, wears it, they disrespect it. They didn’t pass the test, they didn’t even show up. But that is also why, if they are going to grab some ribbons and medals to throw on their chest, the Combat Action Ribbon is a must have.