War is a Young Man's Game

Secretary of War Pete Hegseth’s address to the nation’s generals and admirals last week received mixed reviews. Many veterans and lower-ranking servicemembers applauded his remarks. His critics, however, called them “embarrassing,” “abhorrent,” and “completely unnecessary.”  Contrary to the critics, Secretary Hegseth’s comments—particularly on physical fitness standards—were both accurate and long overdue.

In early 2008 it was uncommon for a day to pass without an American death. However, by spring the “Surge” showed positive results. There were many days without a combat death—sometimes several days in a row. I was back in Iraq again in mid-2009 and the downward trend continued. By the time I left in the spring of 2010, there often were weeks in a row without an American combat casualty.

However, that good news was tempered by something I observed in the data midway through my second deployment. Non-combat-related deaths occurred at the rate of about four to six a month. By late 2009 that number matched, and often surpassed, the number of combat deaths.

I looked into the incidents themselves. A pattern immediately emerged. The typical non-combat, non-accident death was a stroke, heart attack, or suicide. Often, the victims were majors, lieutenant colonels, master sergeants, or sergeants major in their 40s or 50s, or they were contractors recently retired at those ranks and in that age group. They were usually male, which was not disproportionate to the deployed population, but their senior rank and age was very disproportionate to the population of mostly younger military members in Iraq. There was something else in common about those non-combat deaths: the victims were often overweight and out of shape.

The war in Iraq was not like the two world wars with their millions of men facing months of combat in trenches or on the front lines. The majority of veterans of the Iraq War spent most of their time on forward operating bases safe from direct enemy contact. However, the Iraq War was very much like every war since time began and probably like every war yet to come:  long days, short nights, and stretches of boredom, punctuated by moments of terror, all while living far away from loved ones and home.

Life in a combat zone is hard—even if you never leave the perimeter. It is day after day of physical, mental, and emotional drain. It requires a surplus of physical strength and endurance to sustain oneself.

Not long after my second deployment to Iraq, I was a battalion commander in the U.S. Army Reserve. My unit had a high percentage of people who were unqualified to deploy without a waiver. Among the largest causes was the number of Soldiers who failed the Army’s Physical Fitness Test. 

The APFT was a simple test: as many pushups as you could do in two minutes, then as many situps, and then run a two-mile timed course. The scores were scaled based on sex and age. The 18-year-old minimum male standard of 42 pushups, 53 situps, and a 15:54 two-mile run was far from difficult. If you were female or older, the minimum passing scores were even lower. Still, as low as were the adjusted standards, I had far too many Soldiers not passing the test.

Having observed what disproportionately happened to unfit personnel living in a combat zone, I decided that I would never deploy any individual who could not pass the APFT. Throughout the remainder of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, I was responsible for signing off on each of the hundreds of individuals under my command who deployed. Even when numbers were tight, I refused to send anyone who could not meet even those low age and sex-adjusted standards.

I took an even greater step. Army Regulations allow for a commander to separate from service a Soldier who failed two successive APFTs. I actively began separating Soldiers who could not at least show steady improvement after two failed consecutive tests. In my two years as a battalion commander, I separated more Soldiers for APFT failures than the entire Army Reserve did the year before I took command. I was determined to never have an unprepared Soldier die under my command. And thankfully I had the support of my commanders above me. That, however, was not the norm, as my intransigence occurred at a time when the Army’s recruitment difficulties had already begun. Most leaders chose to overlook the problem in order to keep up the numbers.

Around 2020 the Army began implementing the Army Combat Fitness Test. The ACFT had six events, each based on a combat-related skill which every Soldier should be expected to be able to perform. Because a Soldier may have to run quickly to dive for cover during an artillery barrage or sniper fire, there was a sprint event. To simulate carrying cans of ammunition around the battlefield, there was a kettlebell run with an equivalent weight. Dragging a weighted sled replicated pulling an injured comrade to safety.

Originally the ACFT was to have a single standard. From that baseline passing score of 60 points for each event, scaling to 100 points was calculated differently based on age and sex. The thinking was that, because the ACFT’s events were based on actual conditions anyone should expect to find in a combat zone, all Soldiers must be equally capable of performing the same minimum.

The logic should have been unassailable. After all, bullets and bombs do not discriminate. However, the new physical fitness test soon came under assault—especially from those who objected to a common standard because it could disadvantage women. It also disadvantaged older men. Under the previous APFT, a 57-year-old man was held to a lower standard than an 18-year-old woman.

It may have been this latter point to which some of the generals in the War Secretary’s audience last week objected. Of the Army’s eight four-star generals, the youngest two are 56. Five others are in their 60s.

While the Army was negotiating with Congress about the ACFT’s single minimum standard, I mused to a two-star general friend: “War is a young man’s game; if you are not young and you are not a man, it is even harder.”  She agreed but said that I could not say that kind of thing publicly. Unfortunately, she was correct that expressing such a politically incorrect sentiment was forbidden. But why should it be verboten to state something so self-evidently true?

We have been here before. General George Marshall became Chief of Staff of the Army in 1939 and immediately began a purge of general officers who were too old. As he readied the Army for the Second World War, he realized that too many of the Army’s leaders were physically unfit and mentally atrophied. Most of the 4 and 5-star names we know—Patton, Hodges, Clark, Arnold, Spaatz—were younger on the day of Pearl Harbor than the youngest 4-star Army general is today. The only two over 60 were MacArthur and Marshall himself, both of whom were 61. Eisenhower was 51; Omar Bradley was only 48. General Marshall knew that life in a combat zone is hard—even for generals—and it requires that they be nimble both in body and mind.

An argument against Secretary Hegseth’s comments on fitness last week is that the military should better resemble the country’s demographics. However, that is flawed logic. We already exclude from service most of the 16% of the population with an IQ under 85. We also exclude another 16% of the country over the age of 64, most of the quarter of Americans with a physical disability, and the majority of the 3% of adults with a felony conviction. Clearly, the military is better by being selective rather than exactly matching the nation’s demographics. It should not make further accommodations based on age or sex. Minimum physical standards must be based on what is required to survive in a combat environment and not based on what is required to get more people of various demographics to pass a test.

Six weeks after I retired last year, I blew out my knee. One surgery and a lot of physical therapy later, I am not nearly fully recovered. Even though the law could have allowed me four more years before being aged out of service, I probably would have stepped down anyway. I owe it to my family not to put myself in a position where I am physically incapable of continuing service at a minimally acceptable level. More important, I owe it to those Soldiers around me not to put them at increased risk because they would have to compensate for my deficiency on the battlefield. And the sad thing is, I am still faster and more fit than a large number of my remaining general officer peers.

I applaud Secretary Hegseth’s guidance announced last week. It should not have taken the Secretary to point out the obvious. War is indeed a young man’s game; and if you are not young and you are not a man, it is even harder. However, what did require the Secretary’s emphasis was the clear message that formerly forbidden politically incorrect thoughts are no longer verboten.

BG Bob Krumm (U.S. Army, ret.)  served 34 years in the U.S. Army active and reserve service. In his last assignment as a division commander, he was responsible for the pilot program to introduce the Holistic Health and Fitness program to the Army Reserve. He is still an operations research analyst and now splits his time between Nashville, Tennessee and Washington, DC.  He can be reached at Bob@BobKrumm.com.