He started yelling at me in front of all of my Marines about how I disobeyed an order.
Because all of my Marines and recruits were within earshot of the conversation, I tried walking away from the formation with him. He walked with me a couple of paces and he said, “When you get back from leave, expect paperwork for you to sign.”
Oh, God. I'm going to be fired.
I went home for Christmas break, knowing that, when I returned, I would lose my career.
This was the beginning of the end.
I was gone for five days.
I had been going home every three months, and that was my only chance to see Joe. He was working at the Pentagon and going full-tilt, and neither of us had much off-time. It was miserable and lonely. But I knew my Marines were dealing with the same thing—I just had the added stress of feeling like I was going to get canned even though I thought I was doing good work.
The whole time I was home for Christmas, I agonized over it.
That's when Joe and I started talking about what I should do if I got fired.
It still seemed so unlikely—I hadn't been counseled. This is a big deal: In the military, Marines who get into trouble get counseled verbally or in writing for everything. There's basically a three-strikes-you're-out rule. They spend way too much money training Marines; and, as I said before, you can't just quit, and they can't just get rid of you, so it's important to document behavior and performance problems. I had never been counseled by Colonel Haas.
He had verbally told me I couldn't switch the duty roster. Okay. And he had gotten on my case about emailing the recruiting officers, but I thought we had resolved that.
When I left Joe to return to Parris Island, I was devastated, positive I was going to be fired.
But Colonel Haas took his time about it.
The day after I returned, I went to a training event with November Company at the confidence course, still thinking Colonel Haas was going to fire me. It was freezing. The recruits were sweating because they were sliding down ropes and going over monkey bars and climbing giant ladders made of telephone poles. But I just stood there, pretending like I didn't feel it—because, you know, Marine.
Brigadier General Terry Williams showed up. He was Colonel Haas's boss. From the time he took command in July, I don't think I had ever seen him at a training event—not because of a lack of interest on his part, but because he was busy. He was in charge of recruiting for the East Coast and spent most of the week traveling to the recruiting stations. But that day, he made time to see me.
He knew me from a previous assignment when we had worked together. He knew I wasn't crazy. And I think he supported what we were trying to do at Fourth Battalion.
He and his sergeant major sought me out on the course.
“How are things going?” he asked.
“Fine,” I lied. “Everything's good. The Marines are doing incredible things. We've had unprecedented success on the rifle range.”
“No, really,” he said. “How are things going?”
Oh.
“To be honest, things aren't going well,” I told him.
I wanted to pick my words carefully, so I didn't appear disloyal or like I was bad-mouthing Colonel Haas. But I didn't need to say anything else.
“Got it,” he said. “Your boss told me. Keep doing what you're doing—it's my job to mentor colonels.”
I realized at that point that Colonel Haas had met with the general to discuss firing me.
But I came away from talking with Brigadier General Williams thinking, “Thank God. Somebody finally gets it.”
And I thought I was good.
Later that day, Colonel Haas finally called me into his office.
He acted as if things were perfectly normal—small talk and “how were the holidays” and “how's Joe.” I'm thinking, “Just. Get. It. Over. With.”
“You know, I'm sorry about the way I reacted at the initial strength test,” he said. “I was very angry. I need for you to make sure you're doing a better job of listening to me.”
I'll see what I can do. I'll try to figure you out, because, clearly, I don't get you.
“Okay,” I said. “I've got it.”
He had nothing for me to sign.
I again explained to him exactly what documentation I had regarding the November Company CO. I informed him that she spent much of her time complaining about me to my XO, which was inappropriate.
“Give me what you have,” he said.
I gave it to him.
He told me that until he had reviewed the documentation and made a decision, I needed to hire back the CO, which can't have been good for her state of mind, and it certainly wasn't good for my authority within the battalion.
I walked back to my office and I debriefed Sergeant Major. I told her everything. I thought she and I were really tight. We went everywhere together, planned everything, and dealt with problems—and I just adored her.
I told her I didn't understand. Our morale in the battalion had improved; we had fewer disciplinary issues; the Marines were saying they were happier; the recruits weren't being abused; we were improving training; we were even doing yoga and making sure everyone got enough sleep.
What's not to like?
Sergeant Major helped me through it—she let me know that I wasn't crazy and that we were doing good work and that things were getting better.
And,
