New U.S. combat policy affirms role women already play

FORWARD OPERATING BASE PASAB, Afghanistan — They fly troops into combat, drive convoys down mine-riddled roads and take part in foot patrols in the heartland of the Taliban-led insurgency.

For American women serving at military bases across Afghanistan, there was nothing extraordinary about the recent Pentagon decision to lift the official ban on women in direct combat roles.

“We’re already here,” said Army Capt. Kelly Hasselman, 28, of Broken Arrow, Okla., who commands a company of female soldiers that deployed with infantry in the southern province of Kandahar to build relations with rural Afghan women. “It’s just not officially been in the books.”

U.S. commanders say that military policy was out of step with the reality of two wars with virtually no front lines. Women, who make up about 15% of the active-duty military, have faced gunfire, bomb blasts and shelling while serving in Iraq and Afghanistan — in some cases without leaving their bases.

Two have been awarded the Silver Star, the nation’s third-highest medal for gallantry in combat. More than 150 have lost their lives.

Long before Defense Secretary Leon E. Panetta announced that he was lifting a 1994 rule that prevented women from being assigned to units below brigade level whose primary function is direct ground combat, female troops were serving alongside such units at outposts in some of the most heavily contested regions of Iraq and Afghanistan.

Stretched by more than a decade of war, the Army and Marine Corps for years sidestepped official policy by “attaching,” rather than assigning, women to infantry and special operations units because their skills were needed.

When soldiers from the 3rd Battalion, 41st Infantry Regiment, deployed in December to this dusty base in Zhari, the Kandahar district where the Taliban was born, they brought with them an eight-member “female engagement team” drawn from Hasselman’s company. Women also serve in the battalion as medics, in the logistics and personnel sections and in the motor pool.

“Gender, height, weight, religion, sexual preference, race — I don’t care,” said the battalion commander, Lt. Col. Thomas Anderson. “It all comes down to your ability to do what the Army asks you to do.”

So far, the area has remained relatively calm. But when temperatures warm up and another fighting season begins, Anderson expects that his female soldiers will be involved in firefights.

“They are no less capable than I am to react to and return fire,” Anderson said. “Are my infantrymen better? Yes. That’s not due to a lack of ability. It is a lack of repetition.”

The battalion leadership says there have been few problems integrating women into the ranks. Rather, the change has been tougher for their Afghan security force partners to accept. The American women have grown accustomed to stares — and they aren’t allowed on the Afghan side of the compound without a security escort, a precaution also imposed on male soldiers because of the threat of insider attacks.

Pfc. Rosie Darby said she was told by her recruiter that women could not serve as frontline combat medics. She made sure to email him when she got her current job: a platoon medic at one of the battalion’s combat outposts. (Her official designation is healthcare specialist.)

“That first formation was a bit of a shell shock,” she said, smiling. “Everyone was looking and asking: ‘Is she in our formation? Is she a girl?’ ”

The petite 20-year-old from Pavilion, N.Y., soon earned their respect. Members of her platoon said she goes out with them almost every day, climbing over rows of grapevines with a pack of medical supplies on her back to avoid roads that may be seeded with bombs. “She outperforms half of us,” said Sgt. Andrew Bohman, 27, of Cincinnati.

Coarse language doesn’t faze her. “She’s like one of the guys,” said Pfc. Evan Sharp, 20, of Manteca, Calif.

But many in the unit are skeptical about opening other jobs to women, particularly in the infantry, where soldiers sometimes carry as much as 100 pounds of gear on foot patrols that can last all day. “There’s a lot of men that struggle with that,” said Sgt. 1st Class Ron Costa, 42, of Billerica, Mass.

Darby herself called it a “terrible idea.” Besides the physical demands, she worries about how soldiers will react if a woman serving with them is injured. She said the men in her platoon treat her like a little sister and would want to take care of her, even if their job demands that they carry on the fight.

1st Lt. Glen Melin, the platoon commander, said his main concern is upholding Army fitness standards. “This isn’t … like a frat club, to make it difficult to get into,” said Melin, 25, of Corpus Christi, Texas. “It’s to prepare you for the worst possible scenario.”

It is a concern shared by the women who serve here. “You need to say this is the standard, either you meet it or you don’t,” said Hasselman. But she dismissed the notion that women might not be capable of serving in combat positions. “I think that’s the worst argument for not having women in positions, saying they can’t do it,” she said. “Because I have plenty of females who have proven time and time again they can.”

Staff Sgt. Kimberly Williams, a member of Hasselman’s company who is attached to Anderson’s battalion, said some of her most dangerous jobs have been driving supply trucks and guarding prisoners in Iraq. Insurgents would frequently target convoys with roadside bombs and shell the bases where she was deployed.

“I’m not sure why only in the last two or three weeks it’s official I’m allowed to be in battle,” said Williams, 38, of New York. “Just because you don’t have the designated code doesn’t mean you aren’t doing the same work.”

Female engagement teams, first deployed in Afghanistan in 2009, are one of the clearest examples of the blurring of combat and support roles in the military.

Developed by the Marine Corps, the teams live, train and patrol with combat troops in sometimes rugged conditions. They sleep in tents and container housing, take their turn at guard duty and might go for days without access to showers or latrines. (“We use tons and tons of baby wipes,” Hasselman said.) Like their male counterparts, the women have frequently come under fire while on patrol and some have struggled with the psychological toll. Before deploying, Hasselman’s soldiers drew up wills and power of attorney instructions, many of them for the first time.

“Goodbye, this time, was harder,” said 1st Lt. Erica Miranda Ortiz, 32, of San Juan, Puerto Rico. She served twice in Iraq with an aviation support unit. But like others in the unit, she did not want another desk job.

“This is the first time I get to go out every day and interact with the local population,” she said. “I love what I do.”

Local cultural sensitivities prevent male troops from engaging with Afghan women in the more conservative rural areas. But village men will sometimes allow female soldiers into their compounds to meet with their wives, sisters and children. The soldiers also run a small women’s center, which offers adult literacy classes and art projects for children in a walled courtyard attached to the base.

Much of the time is spent getting to know each other. But the female soldiers, who have studied the Pashto language and cover their hair with colorful scarves, also ask women about conditions in their villages. With most international forces slated to leave next year, the soldiers hope the information will help Afghan authorities to better serve their communities and win their loyalty.

Although they are pleased that the military is acknowledging their role, the soldiers don’t expect a surge of women into combat jobs. For some the change came too late.

“When I was in college, I thought it would be so cool to be a Ranger or special forces,” said 1st Lt. Nicole Chappell, 25, of Fort Worth. “I was never going to get married. I was never going to have kids. I was going to be in the Army forever. Then I met my husband and everything changed.”

Williams said she was nearing retirement but was pleased that new opportunities were opening up for the next generation of servicewomen. “We want to help out in the effort just as much as the males,” she said.

alexandra.zavis@latimes.com