Women in Combat

A few weeks ago, as I was moving from sea tour to shore tour with the Navy, I went home for a couple of weeks to visit, and I stayed at my childhood home with my parents. I had a wonderful time of rest and recovery before coming back to work. But supposing that rest and recovery had been suddenly shattered.

Fight or Flight?

Imagine with me that I am lying in my childhood bedroom at midnight when I wake to a sudden noise – the noise of glass shattering in what sounds like the entryway. What do I do?

Well, I can tell you what my parents are doing. My father has sent my mother either out the back window or into the bathroom closet, where she is dialing 911. Would my father ever insist that my mother go see what’s happening? Definitely not. He goes himself.

But what am I doing? I could slip out the back window of my bedroom and go find my mother. But am I going to do that, leaving my father alone to face whatever threat there is? Definitely not. I also go. I do not go running out wildly yelling threats; I go cautiously, looking to see what’s happening and how I can help. But I most certainly go; I have more training than either of my parents when it comes to fighting.

Toward the Danger

The first week I was stationed on the ship for my first Navy tour, quarters was interrupted by a breathless and panicked announcement from the quarterdeck. “Security alert!” someone panted over the mike. “I – I can’t remember what to say… Security alert! Security alert! All hands…” and it broke off. For all we knew, the person announcing it had just passed out from blood loss.

Half the people in the room immediately took off running, and I followed them, headed toward the threat. But I’d only been on board a week; I had no clue what I was doing, and I wasn’t qualified to help. So I stopped after the initial adrenalin rush and asked someone what I was supposed to be doing. “Go back to the room,” was his answer, “and stay put.” So I did. After a shipwide mobilization, the threat turned out to be due to an idiot rather than an attacker. But that moment taught me something about myself. I instinctively run toward the danger.

Does this mean my father has done something wrong in raising me? Has he failed as a father if I run up to help him when an intruder enters our home? Has he failed as a man if he sends me into harm’s way to defend him in the military? The argument is less uncommon than you might think.

Failure or Success?

The analogy I have heard preachers use when speaking about women in the military is that of a father shoving his wife or daughter in front of him when a threat appears, and that would no doubt be a cowardly and unmanly act. But that is beside the point, because no one pushed me. I stood up and stepped forward on my own. And that does not mean my father failed in raising me. It means he succeeded.

He succeeded in raising a strong, courageous woman willing to fight and sacrifice for the people she loves. Anyone who brings more of that into the world deserves only praise. These preachers say that women should only be allowed in the military once all the strength of the men has been exhausted, that a woman should never fight while a man stays home. That sounds very chivalrous on the surface, but what do they want? Do they want every male in America to take up arms before I’m allowed to serve my country? Does that seem at all reasonable?

Sometimes we Rise

What is my basic argument for women in the military? It isn’t a straightforward argument; it’s a sort of inverse argument. I am not concerned with women in the military because I am not terribly concerned with whether people in the military are women or not. They are my comrades-in-arms; they are people who have decided to stand up for what they believe in, to serve their country, and to defend the people they love. Sometimes we fall down, but sometimes we rise.

I will not say it’s easy being a female in the military. I won’t say it’s no harder for a female than it is for a male, because it is harder. I won’t say it’s for everyone, and I won’t say the average male is not more suited for it than the average female. But these are all generalizations and matters of convenience; they are not moral laws.

I am a female, and I am not ashamed of that fact. I do not ignore my femininity; I embrace it. But before I am a female, I am a person, and a leader, and someone who will stand for what she believes in. And when we understand that fact, it becomes clear that anyone who would condemn me for doing that, or condemn my father for supporting me,* is acting not out of sound moral judgement, but out of cultural bias. It is time to clear that bias out of the way so that we can move forward into a stronger and more courageous future.

*And there are people who do – I’ll address that next week.

“side-by-side” by redfoxinict is licensed under CC BY 2.0