FORT BENNING, Ga. -- Six months after the First Battalion, 10th Field Artillery, helped take Baghdad in a blitzkrieg dash from Kuwait, its big howitzers are booming again across the pine trees and sandy hills of this sprawling Army post near the Chattahoochee River.
And today, only three months after the battalion's 630 soldiers finally returned home, much later than expected, the unit is preparing for three hard weeks of field training in Fort Benning next month, followed by full-scale war games in California in January.
If this is rest and recovery for the soldiers who won the war in Iraq, the demands they are facing certainly argue otherwise.
"They promised us stabilization" after the war, said Specialist Nathan Kramer, 24, of Fordyce, Neb. "It was all b.s."
The battalion did not lose a man during the three-week march to Baghdad, a campaign that the soldiers overwhelmingly defend as justified and honorable. But now, their battalion chaplain said, a unit gearing up once again for combat readiness is coping with troubling increases in divorce, domestic violence, and drunken driving.
As many as 12 men in the battalion's headquarters company have been divorced in the last four months, said Captain Robert Gresser, a Charismatic Episcopal priest.
"There's a sense of stress and undirected anger," Gresser said. Moreover, he added, many of the troops see credibility problems in top-level superiors who, many soldiers say, did not spell out and abide by a homecoming plan. "Soldiers seem to have lost confidence in being told the truth," Gresser said.
Indeed, only one of eight enlisted soldiers interviewed last week at battalion headquarters said he planned to sign up for another hitch. "I told my wife if she wants to play soldier, she can go enlist," said Specialist Christopher Bellieu, 27, an eight-year veteran.
Many soldiers said they still resent being kept in Kuwait from early June to mid-July with no active mission before finally boarding their flights home. And some officers said they do not know how to plan for the next year because they have received no hard information for scheduling.
"Even in prison, you know when you're going to be executed," said Lieutenant Dave Rajenranath, 27, of Miami. "You know when your release date is."
The battalion's wartime commander, Lieutenant Colonel John D. Harding Jr., said yesterday that his former soldiers should put their concerns in perspective. "They should keep in mind what soldiers over there are going through now," said Harding, a native of Lincoln. However, Harding added, the unpredictability of the troops' return did pose "a really tough leadership situation."
The battalion, however, does have a consensus prediction that was articulated by its current commander, Lieutenant Colonel Rob Risberg: "We know there's another fight coming. We just don't know where, and we don't know when."
Despite lingering gripes over staying overseas for three months after taking Baghdad, every one of two dozen officers and enlisted soldiers interviewed for this report said they believe the war was necessary.
"You look at an oppressive dictator who defied sanctions for a decade and used chemical weapons on his own people," said Lieutenant Neil Orechiwsky, 24, of Philadelphia. "Anyone with a sense of history would agree with what we've done."
"There are a lot of guys in the Army who want to do their jobs," said Major Rob Bailes, who was the battalion's operations officer during the war. "We owe it to the people of this country to see that mission through, no matter how long it takes."
Yesterday, more than 100 soldiers from the battalion joined a two-hour "Parade of Heroes" in nearby Columbus, Ga., and adjacent Phenix City, Ala., two communities that take pride in their long connection with the Army. The march had been considered for the summer, military officials said, but the occupation in Iraq, combined with long delays in bringing troops home, pushed back the biggest parade in Columbus history to the edge of November.
"We didn't call it a victory parade because the fighting continues, the war on terrorism continues," said Jennifer Sillitto, spokeswoman for the event. "We didn't think it was an appropriate title."
As they marched across the Chattahoochee into Columbus, bands blaring patriotic music and hundreds of families waving US flags, the artillery soldiers basked in the warm thanks of a grateful public that has made their homecoming far different than the disdainful indifference that greeted some Vietnam War veterans.
Although they are proud of their battlefield accomplishments, ambivalent feelings about the postwar situation are evident in many conversations with officers and enlisted men. Captain Brandon Kelley, 25, a former West Point football player, expressed exasperation at the label of "operation" for the campaign in Iraq.
"If it's a war, call it a war," said Kelley, who spent part of a recent afternoon reading a book titled "Islam and Terrorism." Kelley blasted his unit's postwar stay in Kuwait as a waste of resources.
Bellieu advocated a pullout of US troops from Iraq. "Why keep risking lives every day?" he asked. "They say the mission is being accomplished, but you can't see it."
Indeed, a survey in August of US troops in Iraq found that nearly half of the respondents rated their unit's morale as low and said they did not plan to reenlist. The survey, in which 1,935 questionnaires were handed to soldiers by the Stars and Stripes newspaper, was unscientific but drew a large response that indicated dissatisfaction with conditions overseas.
The survey, however, found that 67 percent of the respondents believed the war was worthwhile and that the mission was clearly defined. Stars and Stripes is funded by the Pentagon, which does not control the paper's editorial content.
Back home at Fort Benning, the grumbling about ramped-up training schedules, shortened time for decompression, and an anxiety about redeployment is compounded by what one officer called a "disconnect" between on-the-ground commanders and their superiors. Top defense officials such as Secretary Donald Rumsfeld rarely appear to meet ordinary soldiers who will speak their minds, several officers said in a group interview.
"A soldier's going to put a smile on his face and tell him what he wants to hear," said Captain John Perrine of Spokane, Wash.
Kramer, the specialist attached to the battalion's medics, said he questioned Rumsfeld directly when the defense secretary appeared at Baghdad International Airport. Kramer said he asked why the administration had "failed to create a postwar plan." When Rumsfeld responded that the Pentagon did have such a plan, Kramer said, he asked the secretary to provide details.
"He had no answer for me," Kramer said.
However, any irritation at failing to receive satisfactory answers from the top apparently does not undercut a commitment to patriotism and duty that the soldiers routinely express, and the "band of brothers" affection that they hold for one another.
"I'll probably have to serve my country once again," said Specialist Joel Maldonado, 24, of Brooklyn, N. Y., who has signed on for an extra four years. "I have no problem with that."
"If we don't continue this fight overseas, it's going to come to our country," said First Sergeant Bill Doherty, a 21-year veteran from Dorchester, who received the Bronze Star for bravery during the war. "I think why we went there was a good reason."
Soldiers also dismissed the lack of discovery of weapons of mass destruction as irrelevant to what they called the greater good of regime change. "I don't really care if we find weapons of mass destruction," Bailes said. "Seeing the looks on their faces" as US troops advanced past cheering Iraqi citizens "was enough to make me feel this invasion was warranted."
Many of the soldiers, however, said that Iraqis are not doing enough to help themselves and take advantage of the freedoms they have been given. "They want a handout," said Specialist Alex Lopez, 22, of Lowell. "They want to spend all of our money to build their country, but they don't want to help us out."
A few hours after Doherty and Maldonado helped launch howitzer shells in a firing exercise, a boisterous roomful of battalion officers gathered at a Columbus restaurant to welcome new members and send off departing ones.
Babies born during the unit's deployment were proudly held aloft, newly married couples acknowledged comrades' applause, and officers recently assigned to the battalion were razzed good-naturedly, while old friends headed to new posts delivered moving speeches of thanks and fellowship.
"What we have now is special," said Captain Bryan Kilbride of Woburn, who was leaving the battalion. "Treasure it."![]()