The spectacular rescue of Army Private First Class Jessica Lynch involved dozens of military personnel and their equipment. The daring operation, executed at night and in poor visibility because of blowing sand, involved substantial risk. One helicopter nearly was lost when it struck an electrical wire. Another nearly landed on a wrecked vehicle in the darkness.
The mission was a success and a tribute to the brave souls who risked their lives to rescue one soldier. Private Lynch was saved and returned to a hero's welcome. Her fair countenance adorned newspapers, magazines, and television screens, and her name and face became familiar throughout the United States and much of the world. In contrast, who can recall the name of a single one of her rescuers?
It is reasonable, perhaps, to ask whether the same effort would have been expended to rescue a single male soldier under similar circumstances. And if so, would he have received the same media attention as did Jessica Lynch?
How did it happen that early reports, apparently emanating from Army sources, suggested that Private Lynch distinguished herself in combat to the degree that she was awarded the Bronze Star? "I'm no hero," she insisted during a television interview with Diane Sawyer. To her credit, Private Lynch was candid in describing how, when her weapon jammed before firing a shot, she closed her eyes and prayed.
Is Jessica Lynch a hero? Of course she is. As are all the brave men and women in the services who put their lives at risk for their country. Private Lynch suffered greatly and nearly died from her injuries and was properly awarded the Purple Heart. She survived captivity with honor and deserves our admiration and respect. But the Bronze Star?
I am not sure how the legend of Jessica Lynch, teenage warrior girl, got started, but the Army might have contributed to its mythical proportions by awarding her the Bronze Star. In retrospect, it would seem to trivialize the award. The press fascination with this photogenic soldier certainly was not her fault, but it would seem an injustice to other servicemembers who did as much or more. How about the first female Native American soldier to be taken prisoner, or the first African American female soldier to serve in combat? They were contemporaries of Private Lynch. Where was their media attention? Who even remembers their names?
Perhaps the most unfortunate outcome of the Jessica Lynch media frenzy is that it resurrected the issue of women serving in combat roles. Private Lynch served in what is technically a combat support role, but even that role now is being questioned by some critics of the services' policies regarding the assignment of women.
Elaine Donnelly, president of the Center for Military Readiness and a member of the 1992 Presidential Commission on the Assignment of Women in the Armed Forces, said in a recent op-ed piece that because Private Lynch reportedly was raped while in captivity, "President [George W.] Bush should tell Pentagon leaders to find a way so that female soldiers can proudly serve their country without deliberate exposure to greater, unequal risk." The "greater, unequal risk" apparently refers to the conclusions of unnamed experts that "female soldiers, unlike their male counterparts, are frequently violated sexually."
Twenty-five years ago, while commanding a guided-missile cruiser, I authored an essay published in Proceedings entitled "Women in Warships: A Right to Serve." It earned me an award as Proceedings Author of the Year, but it also got me a lot of criticism from my superiors for what, in those days, was considered heresy, especially coming from a cruiser skipper. In that essay, I said that to discriminate against women in the service by depriving them of a right to which men in the service are entitled—namely, the right, if physically and mentally qualified, to fight, suffer, and perhaps die for their country—was wrong.
That was a quarter-century ago. Today, women serve proudly alongside men in combat ships and aircraft and, in the ground forces, in combat support roles. To be sure, there still is a double standard. Women do not serve in direct hand-to-hand combat roles, but all the roles they do serve in involve risk. Risk is what the armed forces are about. Those women, and men for that matter, who volunteer to serve—whether in the active forces or the reserve and National Guard—primarily for the training, education, and other benefits and wish to be sheltered from the risk of combat would do themselves, their comrades, and the citizens and country they are sworn to defend a favor by seeking another career.
Retired Navy Captain Kelly, a former surface warfare officer, is a frequent contributor to Proceedings. He was a reporter for The Navy Times and The San Diego Union-Tribune and now lives in San Diego, California.
The Legend—and Lessons—of Jessica Lynch
By Captain James F. Kelly Jr., U.S. Navy (Retired)