I have been thinking for some time about belatedly developing some kind of guiding philosophy or “mission statement” for these articles. Over time, I have ranged – more or less randomly – all over the place; from commentary on gear, pontificating on the Constitution, exploring a bit of what I deem relevant history, and preaching leadership above all. Leadership fascinates me precisely because it is universal and always central to all military actions whether in the past, the present, or in the foreseeable future. In large part I have been guided by my favorite Carl von Clausewitz quote, “War is no pastime; it is no mere joy in daring and winning, no place for irresponsible enthusiasts. It is a serious means to a serious end.”

Clausewitz could just as readily have been talking about military leadership when he made that observation. Likewise, Clausewitz’s insightful conceptions of the impacts of probability and chance as well as fog and friction are challenges just as true of leadership as they are of combat. That is one reason why his thoughts – as well as Sun Tzu’s and others – on the subject of leadership, war, strategy, and operational art, are still deemed relevant for professional soldiers to study even now. However, the small unit tactics of ancient China and the Napoleonic era are of very little professional interest to modern warfighters – and rightly so.

With that in mind, I have also been considering the risk of being guilty of providing only antiquated information that is of little practical value today. Antiquated as defined by Webster’s is something that is “outmoded or discredited by reason of age: old and no longer useful, popular, or accepted.” It is true that tactics change constantly and can indeed become outmoded over time. Sometimes, if an enemy fields an effective countermeasure for example, a tactic can become obsolescent very quickly. However, sound military principles like those that Clausewitz is talking about above age much better and rarely go completely out of style.

For example, the version of Major Roger’s Rules for Ranging that I learned decades ago had one rule that went something like this; “Let the enemy come till he’s almost close enough to touch. Then let him have it and jump out and finish him up with your hatchet.” Even when I was a young soldier, that was certainly not a tactic, technique, or procedure (TTP) that was in use by any modern military. If it were, hatchets would still be standard issue. Therefore, if taken literally, that “rule” would indeed be antiquated tactical advice. However, if considered instead in terms of more enduring principles like speed, surprise, and violence of action than that rule – I would respectfully submit – is just as applicable today as it was in 1757.

By the way, just because a TTP is antiquated does not mean it no longer works. Moreover, just because the U.S. Military considers something too low tech, hopelessly outdated and no longer popular does not mean that our enemies have the luxury or inclination of thinking the same way. Just because the person shooting at you from the ridge is using a 303 Enfield rather than a more modern AK47 does not mean he is any less of a threat. Antique tools can still kill you and your friends just as dead as the newest high-tech precision ordinance. The same resource limitation applies to many of our Allies. They may not have any choice but to use “old school” and unsophisticated TTPs. That means – by military necessity – we have to be prepared to work within the limits of what they have and how they are constrained to operate.

As I alluded to above, the mechanics of warfare change all the time, it is human nature that is enduring. Therefore, insight into fundamental human nature during war remains relevant across time and cultural boundaries. As we know, while a soldier may train constantly, he actually practices his profession only intermittently. Most of the soldiers that landed at Normandy in 1944 had never seen combat until that day – even though the war had been ongoing for years. Today, some soldiers may have multiple tours but on each rotation most are still experiencing combat for their first time. Even for those who have seen combat more than once, it is a very individual and in some sense narrow experience. Like all veterans, I can only say that I have personally experienced combat: in the rank I held at the time, at the specific level and intensity of warfare I was involved in prosecuting, only for relatively short periods of time, in particular geographic locations, and against contemporaneous enemy threats.

I have visited the Normandy beaches and walked the ground of Pickett’s charge several times. Yet, despite my experience and training, I can still only make an educated guess about what it was like to land on those beachheads under fire or what Pickett’s men experienced at Gettysburg. Therefore, I cannot honestly claim that I have “mastered” the broader aspects of the “art of war” without diligently studying the experience and wisdom of others – and perhaps not even then. Investigating how those in the past have addressed the training of troops, used intelligence or out maneuvered a determined opponent helps provide additional and critical context. Historical figures like Vegetius still provides useful insight in some aspects of war; Saxe a different perspective; Sun Tzu a more strategic point of view; and Clausewitz and Jomini additional different thoughts and theories to consider.

It is important to note that even though some may have first experienced war as young men, all wrote their thoughts down as older men. A long time ago a Major General told me that he learned everything he knows about leadership as a Second Lieutenant – but it took him 30 more years to understand what he had learned. Warfare is like that. Clausewitz and Saxe initially experienced war as teenagers, but it took years and additional life experiences for them to contextualize that information and form it into coherent theories or principles. I read many of these authors years ago and learned – even memorized – some of their words. Nevertheless, I understand their ideas far better today than I ever did as a younger soldier.

Experiencing war for the first time has been likened to “seeing the elephant” since Hannibal’s campaigns, I suppose. However, there is another – even more ancient – pachyderm analogy that also aptly applies. That is the blind men and the elephant. One declares the tail of the animal is “like a rope” because that best describes the piece he can “see.” Whether he is aware or unaware that the portion that he has access to is just a small part of a larger beast does not in any way invalidate his observation. That particular blind man is absolutely “right” in his assertions, as are the others in their descriptions of different elements of the whole creature in question.The study and practice of war and combat has always been like that. Each “blind man” in turn describes warfare as he experienced it – or as he thinks it should be conducted – but, shaped and confined by his own experiences and biases, only had opportunity to “see” just a limited portion of the whole “truth” of combat. Today we only know as much as we think we know because we have access to the writings of ALL the “blind men” who have gone before us, “laid hands” on war, and then bothered to leave us their sincere impressions.

I will use one example to illustrate the point. Consider the inherent danger of combat; in On War, Clausewitz gives a good description of the emotional impact on a novice as he approaches a notional battle. The danger of painful death and dismemberment is at first abstract and far away. As the new soldier moves closer to the actual fighting the abstract becomes very real and frightening – to the uninitiated even petrifying. Danger, i.e. realistic FEAR of violent death is not something most of us have to deal with on a daily basis – not even soldiers in peacetime. It is not something that can be simulated in training. In fact, military training is rigorously designed in such a way as to minimize even the possibility of death or serious injury. In combat, a leader must control his own dread, display confidence and inspire soldiers to overcome their natural fear in order to accomplish a mission.

True enough, but so what? The caricatures in the attached picture are deliberate exaggerations of what a great many soldiers – retired and active – actually feel. Each is like the “blind men” above. An individual convinced that he has mastered the entire art of war by virtue of experiencing combat at least once. Of course, they are both equally wrong; it simply is not that easy. However, of the two, I am much more concerned about the younger guy – since he is still in the fight. He and his teammates are really the target audience I hope to ultimately reach. That does not mean that my minor contribution so far provided any appreciable value added either. Candidly, no one really needs me to repeat what Clausewitz said. His work is readily available and better authors than I have written whole books explaining him. So, that leads to the larger overarching question to be asked and answered. Why keep writing these articles at all? Is there any real need?

I decided to see what else was available on the internet. The good news is there is a lot of sound stuff out there produced by numerous good, professional people. Many of whom are featured on this site from time to time. On the other hand, there is a lot of goofy – and frankly scary – misinformation out there as well. I will mention two YouTube videos in particular because they seemed to be representative of a lot of questionable content and, as a result, the most problematic to me. First, both videos had good production values, the presenters were articulate, and each gave the impression that they were subject matter experts. One young fellow was demonstrating how to assembly a Molle II rucksack. He was wearing a multicam combat shirt with no insignia. He claimed he was showing the audience “pro tips” and how to set up the pack the way “guys going to selection” do it. Then he proceeded to attach each element of the pack to the frame wrong – pack body, load lifters, and shoulder straps.

By the end, when he mounted the waist belt upside down, he had dissuaded me of the notion that he knew anything about the subject at hand – or the military in general. Here is a real pro tip, if you do not have extensive experience with an item of kit, put it together the way the official instructions say it should be done. The other video was on assembling ALICE gear. The fellow on this was closer to my age I assume. I have to guess because only his hands were visible on screen. He did seem to be very familiar with the ALICE harness. He rigged his pouches with zip ties and 550 cord as was common in the early 80s and onward. I saw one major problem with his presentation. He was not just passionate about the subject, but rather came off instead as inexplicably angry.

In fact, he made sure the audience understood that there was one way – and one way only – to properly assemble ALICE gear in order to survive in combat. His way. No variations authorized. If anyone dared to do it differently, they must be damn fool cherries with a death wish. Here is another pro tip from me. Anyone that says there is only a singular way to do something in combat is probably wrong. Sure, some specific TTP are more desirable than others because they are tactically sounder and, consequently, more likely to produce the desired outcome. However, there is almost never just “one way” to get the job done. Both the presentations I have highlighted were slick and professionally produced. An experienced soldier would spot the same issues I saw quickly enough, but a neophyte might be easily led down the wrong path.

That sampling convinced me that there was indeed still some need for higher quality material out there. That said, I am not going to make it my mission to deal with all the disinformation in the tactical or quasi-tactical corners of the internet. I admit that task is far too large and daunting for me to take on. However, I can attempt to put out information that might be useful for some. More accurate – hopefully – than the young guy, and certainly a lot less angry than the older guy. That is good enough for me. I assure anyone that is reading this or anything else I have written, I do not make these comments or observations while astride some high horse. I have benefited from the guidance of outstanding leaders and excellent teachers. Still, being the hard head I am, I have learned many of these lessons the hardest way. That is, I have screwed it up royally – sometimes multiple times – before I figured it out. Still, there is no reason that others cannot learn from my mistakes without having to repeat them. Besides, I have the time and I am not ready to do the old soldier fade away just yet.

LTC Terry Baldwin, US Army (Ret) served on active duty from 1975-2011 in various Infantry and Special Forces assignments. SSD is blessed to have him as both reader and contributor.

He’s been called the toughest man alive. Being the only U.S. military member to complete SEAL training (Hell Week three times), Army Ranger School and Air Force tactical air controller training, he makes a compelling case. Even more astonishing is his drive to lose more than 100 pounds in only three months to enlist in the Navy.

An Interview with retired Navy SEAL David Goggins

David Goggins’ military background reads like a case of bad “stolen valor” — the retired Navy SEAL chief is believed to be the only member of the armed forces to complete the Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL (BUD/s) course (including going through Hell Week three times), U.S. Army Ranger School (where he graduated as honor man), and Air Force tactical air controller training.

If that wasn’t enough, Goggins has also completed more than 60 ultra-marathons — many of them involving running more than 100 miles — and holds the Guinness world record for pull-ups, having completed 4,030 in 17 hours.

Reading through his impressive resume, you would be correct in imagining him to be in excellent physical shape; at 43 years old, Goggins still regularly competes in ultra-marathons and runs anywhere from 8 to 30 miles every day. However, 18 years ago when he showed up at a Navy recruiting station looking to become a Navy SEAL, it was a different story.

Goggins began his military career at age 19 in the Air Force, with aspirations of becoming a pararescuman. The training was difficult, Goggins said, and involved more swimming than he had expected.

“I wasn’t real comfortable in the water — I hated it,” said Goggins.

During training, military doctors told Goggins he had sickle cell anemia — a blood disease — and gave him the option to drop out.

“It kind of gave me a way out,” admitted Goggins. “I didn’t want to go back in the water, so I pretty much just quit.”

Instead, Goggins became a tactical air controller, serving the rest of his contract with the Air Force in that career field. Still, Goggins said, the reminder of having dropped out of pararescue school depressed him, and he gained more and more weight as he approached his exit from active duty service.

Upon returning to civilian life, Goggins got a job spraying for cockroaches, and gained more weight, coming in at 297 pounds — more than he’d ever weighed in his life.

That’s when he saw a documentary that would change his life.

“I saw this show on the Discovery Channel, and it was just guys going through Hell Week. They were freezing, there was a lot of water, and it brought back memories of me going through pararescue training,” said Goggins.

“So at 297 pounds, I decided to try to be a Navy SEAL.”

Already older than a typical Navy SEAL candidate, and far from being within the weight standards to even join the Navy, Goggins began reaching out to recruiters.

“When you tell a recruiter that you’re almost 300 pounds and you want to be a SEAL, it doesn’t go too well,” he said. “I got hung up on a lot.”

After weeks of determination, he finally found a recruiter who was willing to give him a chance — as long as Goggins could lose enough weight to ship out within three months.

“I had to lose 106 pounds in less than three months — that’s really where it became challenging for me,” said Goggins. “I knew that if I stopped training or became stagnant, there were no calories being burned; so I just basically trained all day long.”

In just under three months, Goggins lost 106 pounds, and was ready to ship out to BUD/s.

Because Goggins had already completed basic training in the Air Force, he was sent straight to BUD/s after a short indoctrination period at Recruit Training Command. While he had lost weight, he was not in ideal physical shape, however, and certainly not prepared for what is almost universally considered some of the toughest military training on the planet.

“When you go from 297 pounds to 191 pounds in that time period, and you’re running, you’re starting to break yourself,” said Goggins. “So I broke myself before I even got into Navy SEAL training.”

Goggins made it to “Hell Week” — an arduous crucible of physical and metal challenges designed to separate candidates who aren’t ready to become SEALs — but failed the course due to stress fractures and pneumonia. Since he didn’t voluntarily quit, he was instead rolled back to day one, week one of BUD/s.

Not wanting to give up, Goggins pushed through training, but fractured his kneecap before reaching Hell Week. In an attempt to avoid being sent back a second time, he pushed through Hell Week with his fractured kneecap and passed.

Unfortunately, Goggins’ injury kept him from being able to keep up with his class, so two weeks after Hell Week, he was rolled back to day one, week one of BUD/s anyway.

“I just had to find different ways to stay in the fight,” he said, explaining why he didn’t give up. “And while staying in the fight, it got me tougher and tougher and tougher.”

His third attempt was a success; Goggins made it through Hell Week with BUD/s Class 235, and earned his Navy SEAL trident on Aug. 10, 2001.

Less than a month later, the terror attacks of 9/11 occurred, and the SEAL teams were mobilized for combat. Goggins deployed to Iraq with SEAL Team Five, and served as a training instructor for other SEALs.

In 2005, during Operation Red Wings in Afghanistan, 12 Navy SEALs were killed, and more were injured in brutal fighting. Goggins personally knew every SEAL involved in the mission. He had been through Hell Week with Petty Officer Marcus Luttrell, Lt. Michael Murphy and Petty Officer Danny Dietz, and had trained Petty Officer Matthew Axelson. Goggins was devastated by the news.

“I wanted to find a way that I could raise money for their families,” said Goggins.

He learned of the Special Operations Warrior Foundation, which pays for the college tuition of children whose parents were special operators killed in combat. He realized the best way to raise money was to run races, and learned there was an upcoming race called the Badwater 135.

Goggins, who at this point was 250 pounds and enjoyed weight lifting, had no idea what the race was. He had run approximately 20 miles in the entire year, and had never attempted long-distance running.

Goggins didn’t realize that the Badwater 135 is considered by many to be the most challenging race on the planet — a 135-mile continuous run across three mountain ranges in extreme heat. Competitors cannot simply sign up for the race either; they have to qualify for it by proving they can run 100 miles in 24 hours or less.

“I was like, is that even possible?” said Goggins.

Fortunately, Goggins discovered there was a 100-mile race near his home in San Diego in three days, giving him no time to prepare. Somehow, he still managed to run 101 miles in 19 hours and 6 minutes.

“By mile 70, I was destroyed — I was dizzy, lightheaded, peeing blood,” said Goggins. “But I was able to draw on my experiences from BUD/s; I was able to draw on being calm.”

Goggins went on to complete the Badwater 135, finishing the 135-mile race in 30 hours and 18 minutes — fifth overall. Since then, he has completed more than 60 ultra-marathons, and, at 43 years old, has no plans to quit anytime soon.

“Back in the day, what motivated me was overcoming myself,” said Goggins. “Now I believe in being a leader. I’ve done it all — I’m good. Now, it’s about setting an example for others to follow. I can’t just talk it — I have to live it.”

When asked what he missed about being an active-duty Navy SEAL, Goggins had a surprising answer.

“Nothing,” he said. “I was that guy who left it all out there. Everything I did in the military, I gave 100 percent, no matter what I was doing. So at 21 years, I was good with it. I did it all, and lived every day like it was day one, week one of BUD/s.”

In fact, he advises current Sailors to do the same.

“Go back to Boot Camp in your mind,” said Goggins. “Boot Camp sucks — SEAL training sucks — but you know what? That’s what makes you good.

“It’s like a muscle — if you stop going to the gym or stop running, you get weak. The military teaches you these great values, but we don’t keep up the discipline on our own and we lose it. So wherever you go, keep that discipline up.”

Originally published in the US Navy’s All Hands Magazine.