DOING THE RIGHT THING WHEN NO one else is looking is not always easy. We can’t always be watched and we shouldn’t need watching. People of integrity tell the truth. Sometimes integrity feels like the most difficult of all the values to practice consistently, but I know I need to get it right if I want to be a trustworthy person. Integrity is at the core of every functional relationship, both at work and at home.
In a combat situation, everyone in the unit needs to be reliable. We may need to run toward fire together, take a bunker out, or rescue one another. Anything could happen. If I don’t feel like the person standing next to me is going to have my back, my performance will suffer. If I hear that someone is stealing gear, or having an affair, or cutting corners, or just not meeting standards, I may feel that I cannot trust that person. If someone is engaging in those behaviors, it suggests that he thinks, “I am more important than other people. My happiness, my pleasure, my interests, are more important than those of other people, including members of my team.”
That attitude does not inspire confidence, and the resulting mistrust can have life-or-death consequences. I need to trust that the person next to me in combat will have total integrity and that he will lay down his life for me if he has to, just as I would for him.
It is important that we hold ourselves to a high standard, even if the stakes do not always seem so high in the civilian world. I want to be a person of integrity because I want to be a good person and a good citizen, not just because I’m an instructor, or because I am working as an operator downrange and I want everyone to come home safely. I want to hold myself to the higher standard because it is the right thing to do. Everyone needs to figure out why integrity matters for themselves.
There have been moments in my life that I am not proud of, moments when I have displayed a lack of integrity. I have also been betrayed by other people who lacked integrity. Most people have probably been in both positions. That is okay; that is how some people learn.
But I have never been in either situation in the 75th Ranger Regiment, not even once. I believe that one of the reasons that our team in Benghazi ran toward that fire and was able to function so effectively through the night was that we were all former Marines or special operations guys that had integrity toward each other.
A New Path
I miss deploying, but I believe that God has put me on a new path for a purpose. I have come to believe that one of those reasons has been for me to learn from the examples, strength, and integrity of other soldiers and their families. It is my privilege to shine a light on the stories of other men and women who have served with honor.
When troops are deployed overseas for a long time, many people at home begin to pay less attention to our casualties and the consequences of our battles. The US military has been fighting in the Middle East for a long time now. The United States has been at war in Afghanistan since 2001. Operation Iraqi Freedom lasted from 2003 to 2011 and was preceded by troops on the ground there in 1990 and 1991 for the Persian Gulf War.
We need to pay attention not only to the extraordinary sacrifices that have been made on the battlefield, but also to the ordinary, specific lives that have been lost for our country. I don’t care where you fall on the political spectrum; I believe it our patriotic duty to honor the memory and the sacrifice of our soldiers and their families.
A company called Fox Trail Productions has created a promilitary documentary series called War Heroes, which profiles the real-life stories of American soldiers. I was proud to host the pilot episode, which focuses on the life and death of Sergeant Ryan Doltz of the New Jersey National Guard.
I spent time with Ryan’s family, friends, and some of the guys he served with, to learn about him. Our team didn’t just want to know about what Ryan did; we also wanted to know who he was.
Ryan Doltz was born in 1978 and grew up in Morris County, New Jersey. According to his family, he always loved the military, even as a young boy. Ryan was an energetic, athletic guy. He earned a black belt in karate, played football and baseball at Dover High School, and was happiest when he was working to get stronger.
Ryan entered the Virginia Military Institute directly out of high school, as a member of the class of 2000. Ryan’s mother, Cheryl, told me that Ryan seemed to embrace the structure of military life and was proud to be a part of the VMI tradition.
VMI is a tough place. Freshmen are called rats, and they are put on the so-called rat line, where they are physically challenged and taught how to march and how to study, an intense process that is meant to serve up some pain with a purpose.
Before they are trained to become leaders, cadets are taught to serve and follow. Ryan worked hard to succeed academically, and he thrived as a member of the VMI community. Ryan was a big guy: six feet six and 250 pounds. He entered VMI as a football player, but an injury led him to switch to rugby (“football without pads,” as he called it). Ryan also played tuba in the Band Company. Cheryl jokes that “the tuba was perfect for Ryan because he was big enough to handle it.”
One of the stories that people at VMI still love to tell about Ryan is how he helped with a raid, led by his friends Howie Cook and Mike Judge, to steal a Jeep that belonged to the commandant at the Citadel, VMI’s great football rival. The Jeep was presented to the Citadel officer at the annual game.
“Babyface” Ryan
Ryan also gained some attention when he was one of four VMI cadets chosen to participate in a television commercial for Norelco razors that was filmed on the VMI campus. His star appearance resulted in his getting the nickname “Babyface,” which he accepted with his usual good nature.
In 1998, while he was still at VMI, Ryan joined the Virginia Army National Guard. He won a Top Gun Award for military proficiency at section tasks associated with 13B10 training and earned his emergency medical technician certification in Virginia. As a member of A Battery 1/246th Field Artillery in Martinsville, Virginia, Ryan was activated shortly after his graduation in 2002 as part of Operation Noble Eagle (ONE).
ONE began in response to the attacks of September 11, 2001. This US and Canadian military operation related to homeland security provided support to federal, state, and local agencies, and it continues today. Ryan spent a year on active duty at Aberdeen Proving Ground in Maryland.
In 2003, Ryan moved home and transferred to the 3/112th Field Artillery of the New Jersey National Guard, based in Morristown, New Jersey. He also began working as a cost engineer for Moretrench American Corporation, an engineering firm that was rebuilding a wall that had been part of the World Trade Center towers. Ryan became certified as an EMT in New Jersey and volunteered for the Mine Hill First Aid Squad, along with his younger brother, Gregory. Ryan was back with his family, serving his community, and figuring out his life’s path.
In January 2004, Ryan’s National Guard unit was activated to take part in Operation Iraqi Freedom.
Ryan’s unit was sent to Fort Dix, New Jersey, to train for deployment to perform military police duties. During the training, Ryan fractured both heels and was sent home with an initial prognosis that he might be in a wheelchair for six weeks and then need physical therapy for six months before he would be able to deploy.
But Ryan wanted to go to Iraq with the guys whom he knew and trusted, so he worked hard to prove the doctors wrong.
After several months of determined physical work, Ryan convinced the doctors that he had healed enough to be deployed; he landed in Iraq on April 9, 2004.
“He could have been excused through the summer,” Ryan’s mother told me, “but he wanted to be with his unit.”
Ryan’s unit was stationed outside Sadr City, a Baghdad suburb that was one of the country’s most volatile regions. They were Charlie company, Jersey guys, 180 mostly artillery men whose main mission was to patrol the area, to safeguard Iraqi police stations, and to provide security and drivers to various military convoys.
“This Is Where We Should Be”
Ryan kept in touch with his family while he was in Iraq, usually calling home once a week when he was back at his base, according to Cheryl. “He was optimistic,” she said, “and he told me, ‘This is where we should be’ and hoped he was making a difference. He was all about his men and the mission.”
On June 5, 2004, the vehicle that Ryan was driving hit an IED as he was providing security for a convoy returning to their base. Ryan was killed immediately, along with Staff Sergeant Humberto Timoteo. Ryan was the third soldier from New Jersey to die during the global war on terror.
Ryan was posthumously promoted to the rank of sergeant and awarded the Bronze Star, the Purple Heart, and the Good Conduct Medal. He was laid to rest in Arlington National Cemetery. The funeral in New Jersey attracted throngs, and more than three hundred people attended the burial itself, a testament to the impact he had had on others and to the kind of man he was, according to Cheryl.
“Ryan was not an officer, just an average person,” she said. “Ryan Edward Doltz was an American patriot in the truest sense of the word. He was willing to put his own hopes and dreams on hold because he felt that his country needed him. He was a true citizen-soldier.”
The Doltz family, like all Gold Star families, has sacrificed and suffered for our country. The public response to Ryan’s death is a reflection of Ryan’s character and of his family’s contributions to their community. Ryan’s father is a former chief of the Mine Hill Fire Department and his mother is an elementary school teacher. More than one hundred residents of Mine Hill who attended Ryan’s funeral then traveled the 250 miles to Arlington to attend his burial.
I have lost friends in combat, and I think about them every day. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose a family member in combat. I admire the way that the Doltz family has worked to preserve Ryan’s story and memory and turn his death into an opportunity for positive change. They have created a foundation called the SGT Ryan E. Doltz Memorial Foundation. Ryan’s sister, Anne, is the head of the nonprofit foundation, which has established scholarships to support the education of college-bound students from Morris County, New Jersey, for members or dependents of members of the New Jersey National Guard, and for VMI cadets.
The foundation has established investment accounts to support two young sons of other fallen soldiers in Ryan’s unit, and the foundation contributes to other organizations and efforts to support military families in need. The Doltz family has continued to share Ryan’s story, which I know can be difficult, because they are committed to honoring his sacrifice.
Members of the Doltz family have demonstrated patience and dignity through their loss. On the day that Ryan died, a young photographer from Newsweek magazine took pictures of the scene of the aftermath of the attack that killed Ryan. The photographer took pictures of soldiers removing Ryan’s body from his Humvee, and Newsweek published one of them.
The Doltz family had no idea the photographs existed and did not receive any warning about the publication. The first time that the Doltz family saw these pictures was in the pages of the magazine. That is horseshit. When Cheryl told me about the pictures, I felt my blood starting to boil just thinking about how she must have felt. Yet the Doltz family handled this outrageous situation with so much strength. Cheryl Doltz called Newsweek and explained, like the teacher she is, how those photographs made her feel. Cheryl ultimately met with the photographer and told me that the photographer was devastated to see the effect of his photographs on her family. I imagine and hope that he and his editors learned something.
Cheryl Doltz’s ability to forgive and to make something constructive out of a bad situation humbles me. I understand what it feels like to have my story be manipulated or used for someone else’s purposes. The Doltz family has more reason to be pissed off at the media than I have ever had, and they have been forgiving. It was instructive for me to spend time with them and study the example of their conduct.
Cheryl Doltz honors her son’s memory by embracing others instead of hating the world. It would be tempting to turn inward and give up after suffering the kind of loss that the Doltz family has endured. Instead, they have derived meaning from their loss. Their integrity is inspiring and healing for me to witness. The Doltz family is living a heroic life.
I am a Christian. In my faith, the Ten Commandments tell me how to behave, and they line up with the Army Values. I know that I have said that we have to do the right thing when no one is watching, but I also believe that God is always watching and that He offers opportunities and lessons.
Whether I choose to learn a lesson or repeat a mistake is up to me. It is up to me to become a person with more integrity and to figure out what helps me to live up to the best version of myself.
My work, faith, and values help me to have integrity. I think I have been at my best when I was deploying. My vow to be a good operator was paramount, and it kept me focused on my job.
Selfishness is often at the core of a lack of integrity. In combat situations, if someone lacks integrity, they may not put themselves out in front. You can’t put yourself first in the military; most of the time your job requires you to prioritize the needs of others. It often takes more effort to do that at home, or in a civilian job, where the consequences of putting yourself first may not be so dire.
The people in your life should know that they can count on you. If members of a unit don’t feel that everyone is reliable, that unit will be weak. That applies outside the military, too. It is true of a family, an organization, or a working group. If the guy next to me demonstrates a lack of integrity, even about something that may seem to have nothing to do with me directly, it will still affect me. A group member’s poor behavior suggests that they think, “I am the most important thing. You aren’t. My pleasure, my happiness, my self are more important than you guys. I just want to be happy or feel good, and it doesn’t matter how it makes you feel.”
That way of thinking makes me think that I can’t trust you, and it will affect our interactions. In a unit, you need to have complete confidence and trust in the person next to you. If you want them to feel the same way about you, you have to be a person of integrity.