By Micah Ables
There’s a portrait hidden in the closet of every company commander – one that bears every unspeakable thing they have to see, hear, and carry.
To every young commander or first sergeant who’s seen more than any one person should: I see you. I hear you. I feel you.
In Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray, Dorian receives a beautiful portrait of himself. As he lives a life of cruelty and debauchery, he discovers that the painting bears the marks of his corruption, while he himself remains outwardly untouched. Over time, the hidden portrait becomes horrifying to behold, a visible record of his moral decay that he refuses to acknowledge.
Maybe this is just a combat arms thing, or maybe even just an infantry thing, but on my first day as a company commander, I got called in after midnight to issue a restraining order to a soldier. An argument had gotten physical, and a lamp was thrown, gashing a forehead. One spouse fled by car; the other gave chase. Within minutes, the fight resumed, spilling out into the street.
Over the next 24 months of command, it didn’t get any better: the Article 15s and restraining orders, chapter packets and court-martials never seemed to stop.
I found myself testifying at the court-martial of an NCO who monetized abusing his toddler, producing heinous videos based on requests from paying viewers online. I shook my head while issuing a restraining order for a soldier stalking the children of his ex-girlfriend – who also happened to be our Deputy Brigade Commander’s estranged wife. I watched my replacement liaising with civilian police after one of our staff officers broke into her ex’s apartment, shot him with his own handgun, and then – when the handgun jammed – tried to finish the job with a hammer. Mercifully, he survived.
Did you know the U.S. Army had a Top 20 most wanted list? Or that the U.S. Marshals would put together a task force to help you capture an AWOL soldier? Or that if your battalion XO convinces the suspect to give him the alleged murder weapon to hand over to the police, he himself becomes a person of interest in the investigation?
Oh, the things you can learn!
And those were just the “highlights.” The “normal” cases – dozens of positive drug tests, sexual assaults (with both males and females as both victims and perpetrators), and domestic violence cases – took up the rest of the time.
By 0200 each Sunday morning, at least one Serious Incident Report (SIR) was all but guaranteed. They were such a routine way of life for me that I even wrote a haiku one Saturday at midnight while fully in the throes of Stockholm Syndrome:
SIRs at night
SIRs in the morning
I love SIRs
Gallows humor aside, I earned more gray hairs in those 24 months than I did leading daily combat patrols in Afghanistan, raising three kids, and transitioning out of the Army during COVID – combined.
Command is like that. No matter what despicable thing you just heard from CID (Criminal Investigative Division) or the SHARP (Sexual Harassment/Assault Response Program) rep, you still have to stand in front of your company and lead like the professional the rest of your soldiers deserve. You have to train, fight, and keep faith with the other 95% of your soldiers who are doing their best.
But all the while, the portrait in the closet – your soul, your moral fiber – gets darker and uglier. Every Article 15, every chapter packet, every court-martial weighs you down. The moral injury happens so gradually that you don’t often notice it in the moment. But – slowly and surely – the burden of command gets heavier with each horrifying discovery.
It’s an essential job; somebody has to do it. But we have to acknowledge the emotional meat grinder we’re putting our leaders through -especially in what should be the prime of their lives.
If this is you right now, you have to recognize it.
When we first raise our right hand, we do so accepting or even expecting the potential physical tolls of combat. We train and prepare for that. But nobody prepares you for the emotional toll of leadership.
And how could we? An extra block of instruction at the pre-command course? Another resilience module? One more online training course?
The easy answer – and the right one – is: “Go to behavioral health.”
And you should – especially if you find yourself downing a handle every weekend just to stay numb. You have to take care of yourself before you destroy your ability to lead – or yourself.
I was fortunate to have some fantastic EBH providers, chaplains, and mentors when I needed them, and I know that good ones are worth their weight in gold.
But even then, they’re not in the same foxhole. Most of them won’t fully understand what you’re carrying. Most of them haven’t lived it. And that gap matters.
The best thing I can tell you is simple: take a deep breath. Pause to reconnect with God. Find a peer.
Don’t find someone just to vent – that’s too easy and too toxic.
Seek out a peer and listen to them.
Walk away from the tank or the TOC for a minute. Ask how they’re holding up. Look them in the eye. Share burdens quietly.
Don’t just wait for your turn. Don’t just listen for an opening to dump your trauma. Actually listen to them – just to listen. Give an ear, a knowing nod, a hug.
You don’t need another horror story. You don’t need another substance. You don’t need the perfect answer.
You need to remember you’re not alone. You need to remember who you are. You need to remember why you’re serving in the first place.
Your mileage may vary. Some commanders have completed multiple commands without filing a single SIR. But if you’re in combat arms or a similarly raucous unit, this will probably feel more familiar than you’d like to admit.
If that’s you: you have to take care of yourself. You have to see the decay before the portrait – you – gets too dark and deformed to recognize.
The toll will never end. The soldiers will keep soldiering. The Army will keep asking.
But you, you have to decide what you carry – and when to ask for help carrying it.
Micah Ables is a former active-duty U.S. Army infantry officer. He served as a heavy weapons platoon leader in Afghanistan, commanded a mechanized infantry company in Poland and Georgia, and commanded an HHC before serving as an Assistant Professor of Military Science. Follow him on Twitter/X and Facebook.
