War dames: if America invades Iraq, thousands of female U.S. soldiers will fight on the front lines

Washington Monthly, Dec, 2002 by Phillip Carter

LAST FEBRUARY, AS THE SUN ROSE over a parched California desert, tanks from the 4th Infantry Division's 1st Brigade reached a large enemy minefield. Their orders were to secure a hilltop in the enemy's rear area. But until combat engineers could clear a path, the tanks would be sitting ducks for nearby tank and artillery fire. And without cover, the engineers would likewise be pinned down.

At the prearranged moment, a column of armored smoke vehicles commanded by Capt. Streigel of the 46th Chemical Company threaded its way cautiously forward, laying down a thick haze to mask the engineer teams. In less than an hour, the engineers had opened a gap and 1st Brigade moved through to its objective, thanks to the precision teamwork under fire of Streigel's soldiers and the other ground units.

Like most battles at the National Training Center, this one was hard--the closest approximation to combat that the Army can create in peacetime and a rigorous test for the military's newest tactics and equipment. As war looms with Iraq, these training exercises, along with others taking place in the Louisiana swamps and on the German plains, assess combat skills before the real bullets start to fly. The California exercise in particular was a good indicator of how American soldiers will fight a war against Iraq--and also how much has changed since the Gulf War. Over the last decade, the Army has digitized its equipment, upgraded its tanks, and added capabilities like peacekeeping to its mission, all part of a sustained, high-profile effort to adapt to war in the 21st century.

But one quieter transformation was also on display in the desert: Capt. Streigel--first name: Jennifer--is a woman. Ten years ago, Streigel could never have commanded a front-line chemical company in the U.S. Army. But the next time the United States goes into battle, women will be as close to the front lines as any infantryman. During its minefield operation, Streigel's company fought shoulder to shoulder with the combat engineers and deployed more armored vehicles than a tank company--and four of its five officers were women. In fact, Streigel is just one of thousands of women who, since the Gulf War, have been steadily migrating to assignments that place them at or near the line of battle.

Since the Gulf victory in 1991, a series of largely unnoticed policy changes have opened new opportunities for women to fight alongside, and even to lead, front-line troops. The Navy and Air Force, with some fanfare, allowed women into the cockpits of fighters and bombers. But less well known is how vastly the Army has expanded the role of women in ground-combat operations. Today, women command combat military police companies, fly Apache helicopters, work as tactical intelligence analysts, and even serve in certain artillery units--jobs that would have been unthinkable for them a decade ago. In any war in Iraq, these changes could put thousands of women in the midst of battle, far more than at any time in American history.

This new role for female U.S. troops is the product of three different forces. One is congressional pressure to integrate the military by gender as it previously had been integrated by race. Another is the ongoing enlistment shortage; the military remains reluctant to admit women yet is unable to recruit enough competent men to staff an all-volunteer Army. But the most important reason has been pressure from women within the Army who need combat experience to advance their careers, nearly all of them in the officer corps. And yet this experiment has been conducted largely below the threshold of public awareness.

The wisdom of this integration is sure to be tested in any sizable ground war with Iraq. If female soldiers perform poorly, they could put their comrades' lives at risk, strengthen the hand of conservatives who oppose women serving as soldiers, and provoke a backlash from the American public. But if, in the heat of battle, women fight bravely and effectively, it could spark a different sort of debate among the military and the public at large over why regulations and military culture still conspire to keep women from many prime assignments in the nation's service.

Foxes and Foxholes

The history of American women's role in combat is a brief one. Before the Vietnam War, only a small number of women served in uniform, primarily in medical specialties and occasionally as rear-echelon intelligence officers or as pilots of transport aircraft. That began to change in the mid-1970s with the advent of the all-volunteer army. No longer able to rely on a steady stream of draftees, Army recruiting, experts expanded the number of specialties open to women.

The first women entered West Point in 1976. Upon graduation, they were allowed to pursue most career fields, but by law precluded from those "combat arms" specialties that would place them on the front lines. This was done for two explicit reasons. The first is the importance the military places on "unit cohesion" Integrated units, some theorists have argued, would destroy the teamwork crucial to combat performance. Male soldiers would become distracted and compete for women's attention, and would grow demoralized if women were killed or wounded. "No unit can afford to have two people in love with another," says Dr. Anna Simons, a professor at the Navy's Postgraduate School who has written extensively on Special Forces and believes that gender integration would have a disastrous effect. "Forget the sex--this is about the clouding of judgment. No matter how close the friendship is between men, it still doesn't jeopardize their decisions the way that love does."