Having Women in Combat Is Still Controversial—But Shouldn’t Be
We’re all better off with women bravely serving the country.
THE SUBJECT OF WOMEN IN THE MILITARY—especially in combat roles—has been in the news recently, mostly because of statements made by Pete Hegseth, President Trump’s pick to lead the Department of Defense. In his confirmation hearing, senators on the Armed Services Committee grilled Hegseth about his views regarding the role of women in the armed forces. The process of incorporating women into every part of the military took the better part of a century, and I saw the evolution of those roles from inside the force throughout my career. If removing sex-based distinctions from the military was an experiment, the results—in my view—have been positive and crystal clear.
The Combat Medical Badge (CMB) is one of the least known but most revered of Army awards. Established in 1945 by the War Department, it was a companion to the Combat Infantryman Badge that recognized those who bore the brunt of combat in World War II. The CMB recognizes medics—soldiers who do not carry weapons—who accompanied infantry units and who were engaged by the enemy while performing medical duties. The criteria for that award, adjusted after 1991 to include medics assigned to armor or cavalry units during Desert Storm, were changed several more times after 2001 during the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan as more medics were required on the front lines by different types of units.
It’s hard to remember now, but before Operation Desert Storm commenced, predictions of American casualties reached the tens and even hundreds of thousands. My colleagues in a cavalry squadron were expected to be hit particularly hard in the opening armored thrust, and to mitigate that expected danger, several medics volunteered to serve with our units. One of those medics, a female soldier who was not authorized to be with a frontline unit, told me as she dressed wounds our unit’s troopers sustained during an artillery attack that she wanted to be “way up front with the cavalry.” When she volunteered to be with us, she knew we would need additional medical help. Later, in 2004, when I served as an assistant division commander, I was honored to present the first group of twelve female medics with the CMB. One of those soldiers, a Native American, told me her grandfather had served in World War II as a medic and he would be proud of her now serving on the front lines with a combat unit. Both of these young women reflected what all soldiers say: They want to serve, and they want to be part of something bigger than themselves.
When I joined the Army in 1971, the Women’s Army Corps (WACs) was a separate and not equal force. Seven years later, when I was a young captain in command of a tank company in Louisianna, the WACs were officially folded into the regular Army, and I saw women joyfully discard their WAC Pallas Athena insignia for those designating the branch symbol of ordnance, quartermaster, transportation, adjutant general, or medical corps. The symbolic change mattered: In the WAC, women were defined by their sex, but in the Army, they were defined by their job as part of a unit.
I didn’t get a good understanding the dynamics of WAC integration until 1987, when I talked with my classmate at the Army Command and General Staff College at Ft. Leavenworth, Kansas, Maj. Ann Dunwoody. Coming from a family of West Point graduates going back generations, Ann’s only choice for service was with the WACs. Upon transformation from WAC to regular army, she became a quartermaster officer and was uniquely impressive to all her combat arms brothers at the Staff College. None of us was surprised when, years later, she became the Army’s first female four-star general and a dynamo in four different wars, revamping the supply chain that supported all men and women on the front lines.
Later in my career, as a colonel in the Pentagon, I formed a friendship with a fellow Joint Staff officer, Capt. Michelle Howard. Her ship, the USS Rushmore, and her crew were instrumental in the 2009 rescue of Captain Richard Phillips from Somali pirates. I wasn’t surprised when she became the first African American to command a Navy combat ship and the first to wear four stars.
While Dunwoody and Howard were two of many who broke the proverbial glass ceiling, it wasn’t just the high-ranking women who were setting the standard. Army National Guard Sgt. Leigh Ann Hester became the first woman awarded the Silver Star for valor in direct combat during the Iraq War in 2005, leading her squad in repelling an ambush, then personally clearing trenches and eliminating enemy fighters while under fire. Staff Sgt. Monica Lin Brown was also awarded the Silver Star for a 2007 action in Afghanistan when she shielded wounded soldiers with her body during an attack and then provided lifesaving medical care under enemy fire. She was still a teenager at the time. Cpt. Jennifer Harris, class of 2000 from the Naval Academy and a Marine helicopter pilot, was posthumously awarded the Purple Heart and Air Medal after her aircraft was shot down during a medical evacuation mission in Iraq in 2007. And Lt. Roslyn Schulte, an intelligence officer, was posthumously awarded the National Intelligence Medal for Valor after being killed by a roadside bomb near Kabul, Afghanistan in 2009. She was the first female Air Force Academy graduate to fall in combat. In addition to these stories, more than 9,000 female troopers have earned Combat Action Badges in Iraq and Afghanistan, and hundreds have earned awards for valor.
While many of these valorous women worked in organizations I commanded, one experience taught me that sometimes it’s just the women—who are part of the formation—who can help accomplish the mission. In June 2008, when commanding the 1st Armored Division in northern Iraq, we tasked our female soldiers to put together a women’s conference in Erbil. They brought together Iraqi women to discuss issues directly affecting them, aiming to empower them in a reformed society. During that conference, our female soldiers gained a nugget of valuable information from their Iraqi “sisters” on how al Qaeda in Iraq was increasingly recruiting Iraqi women to wear suicide vests in Diyala province. Soon after, our military police battalion recruited Iraqi women as part of new, fledgling Iraqi police force, and within weeks those brave “daughters of Diyala” cracked the suicide network.
Sgt. Hester, Staff Sgt. Brown, Cpt. Harris, and Lt. Schulte all served and sacrificed before 2015, when Secretary of Defense Ash Carter formally announced the end of the ban on women serving in ground combat roles. While I was no longer wearing the uniform then, I was still in contact with many female soldiers with whom I had served. They were ecstatic about the transformation. A few of them put in requests for transfer to the Marine and Army combat arms. Soon, Cpt. Kristin Griest and Lt. Shaye Haver became the first two women to graduate from the demanding Army Ranger School, meeting the same rigorous physical and mental standards as their male counterparts. Many more would follow.
Since combat positions opened to women in 2015, there’s been a notable increase in female service members applying for these roles. In the Army, nearly 4,800 women are serving in infantry, armor, and artillery positions. And in the Marine Corps, approximately 192 female officers and 410 enlisted women are serving in previously restricted roles, including infantry, artillery, and combat engineers. A few weeks ago, I was present as the West Point class of 2025 chose the branches of service they would join. Cadet Hannah Pohlidal, a gifted student and varsity soccer player who was one of several women who chose the infantry, conveyed to me her intense desire to get to Ranger School and then to an airborne unit in the United States or in Italy. I was impressed by her maturity and her dedication. I have no doubt that whatever unit she’s assigned to will be better for having her, and our country is better off thanks to her service.
These are not “DEI hires,” nor are they the results of actions by “woke generals and DOD officials.” These are women who, to borrow an Army expression, want to “be all they can be” while also serving their fellow citizens. These are immensely talented young people who are driven to contribute to our national security. They just happen to be women.
Throughout my career—and in retirement—I’ve tried to highlight the achievements of women in the military, particularly in combat roles. Seeing is believing, and I’ve seen firsthand the bravery and skill of thousands of women in all the units they’ve joined, especially in combat situations. I’m suspicious of anyone who wants to denigrate women’s contributions to our military—using old tropes of them not meeting standards or being a drain on the force—especially those who have never served, and who have never served beside them.
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