Kaboom: Embracing the Suck
in a Savage Little War
by Matt Gallagher
When Matt Gallagher (’05), a history major and English minor from Reno, Nev., first signed up for Wake Forest’s ROTC program, he wanted to become a JAG lawyer to follow in the footsteps of his attorney parents. But two weeks into his freshman year, 9/11 happened. The terrorist attack, along with the University’s Pro Humanitate motto, made him change his mind. “I started thinking above and beyond myself. I wanted to give back to my country,” says Gallagher. “So I joined the front lines of the armored cavalry.”
While serving as the leader of his Army platoon, Gallagher started a blog. Though it began as merely a way to keep his family and friends informed during his deployment (December 2007 to March 2009), his online journal quickly became popular and controversial, sparking an international uproar — and a book deal.
STIRRING THINGS UP
Did you realize your blog was gathering
a large following?
I installed a hit counter so I could tell that
a growing number of people were clicking
on my site daily. The blog has gotten nearly
200,000 page views to date. I’ll never forget
the day I got a comment from someone who
wasn’t my mother — that was cool.
What was the event that prompted your
now-infamous blog post?
My battalion commander wanted to promote
me to executive officer. It would have been an
“off the line” job, meaning I’d be away from my
platoon and in charge of gear. I had no interest.
I told him: “I’ll do the best I can, but you should
know that I’m not planning on staying in the
Army forever, so maybe this job would be better
suited for someone who is staying in and
could use this opportunity to move up
the ranks.” Then he chewed me out for not
wanting to make the Army my lifelong career.
Why didn’t you want to stay in the Army?
Once you move up the pipeline, you get
farther away from the reality of what’s happening
on the ground. I didn’t want my life to
become “Office Space” in camo.
What did you do after your battalion
commander yelled at you?
I went back to my room and did the same
thing I’d been doing for six months: I wrote a
blog post. Except this time, I mocked him
and his careerist mentality, using fake names
like always. I was supposed to run all my
posts by another officer first, but this time I
didn’t. It was probably a mistake. I was naïve
in thinking it wouldn’t get back to him.
So your battalion commander found out
about the blog post?
Yes. Supposedly he was reading a Salon.com
article in which a writer had linked to my post.
As a result, he told me to shut down my blog.
But, technically, did your blog post break
any military rules?
No. I may have insulted my boss, but I
didn’t violate “operational security,” the military’s
blogging rules — I didn’t describe who
or where we were.
Do you think your battalion commander
made the wrong call by shutting down
your blog?
Yes. It was a decision made by a reactionary
bureaucracy that isn’t in tune with 21st century
media.
If you were in your battalion commander’s
shoes, how would you have handled it?
I would have blogged back at the soldier.
Or I’d have made him write an apology. You
can’t kill the Internet — once it’s out there,
it’s out there.
Did you challenge your battalion commander’s
decision?
No. The controversy had become such a
distraction compared to the seriousness of
my daily life that I didn’t want to aggravate or
prolong the problem.
Explain the irony of what happened next.
By shutting down my blog, my battalion
commander ended up drawing even more
attention to it. The blogosphere went nuts
— people were posting on their own sites
about whether or not it was ethical for the
military to make me stop writing.
Then journalists found out about the controversy?
One month later, a reporter embedded in
Baghdad wrote an article about it in The
Washington Post. He was tipped off by a few
of his officer friends who were fans of my
blog. Then, even the Pentagon got wind of it.
Was The Washington Post the only place
that story ran?
No. Then Stars & Stripes, the U.S. military
newspaper that goes out to all the Armed
Forces — re-published the article on its cover.
Some soldiers would approach me, asking if
I’d autograph their newspapers.
Now that you’re no longer with the military,
does the blog still exist?
Yes. Somebody created a mirror site off a
Google cache. I got operational control of it
once I left the Army. You can still read it at
kaboomwarjournalarchive.blogspot.com.
LIFE AT WAR
This summer, General Stanley McChrystal
was fired by President Obama for
airing grievances publicly to Rolling Stone
magazine. He was, like you, penalized for
speaking his mind and disrespecting authority,
albeit on a much grander scale.
I wasn’t surprised by what he said, but I
was surprised that he said it to a journalist on
the record.
There are some harsh scenes in the book.
One detainee is so terrified that he soils
himself. A platoon member is accidentally
set on fire. An injured Iraqi storms
onto your base while his intestines spill
out of him. But those moments are tempered
by tender and even funny experiences.
Like the parts where Iraqi children
swarm around you, begging for candy or
Beanie Babies. Or when after a stressful
mission, you rock out to a Spice Girls
song in your armored vehicle.
Throughout the book, I wanted to show
both sides of life as a soldier. War can be
brutal, but also hilarious.
You once gave your platoon an order
to kill. What was it like to make, literally,
a life or death decision in a matter of
seconds?
My instincts kicked in. Only later did I have
time to second- and third-guess myself.
At one point in the memoir, you help a
platoon member pick up a bomb. You’re
pretty sure it won’t detonate, but not
100 percent sure. Where does that courage
come from?
I was the lieutenant, and I told myself that
I would never ask one of my soldiers to do
anything that I wouldn’t do myself. You just
have to turn off that fear and do it.
You yawn a lot throughout the book, diagnose
yourself with insomnia, and sip coffee,
chai tea and energy drinks called Rip-Its.
You also have to walk around in full uniform
on summer days when temperatures
regularly soar past 100 degrees.
War is incredibly draining. You need those
stimulants to perk yourself up and stay alert,
because most of the time you are physically
and mentally spent — not to mention filthy.
In one scene, you notice graffiti in a porto-
john: America isn’t at war. Soldiers are
at war. America is at the mall. Does U.S.
apathy and ignorance bother you?
Yes. It’s an unintended consequence of
having a voluntary force. People who lack a
direct connection to the war are often unengaged.
To a certain extent, I understand.
People have lives. The economy is tanking.
Pelicans are dying in oil. The last thing they
want is more bad news. But every now and
then, I get on my self-righteous soapbox.
You describe moments of subtle defiance
in the book. Under your uniform, for example,
you wear socks featuring the Guinness
beer logo and pink boxer shorts with
skulls on them.
It was a way of reminding myself that I
was an individual. I could get the job done
and do it well, but still be Matt. The military
has a group culture — everyone wears the
same uniform, cuts their hair the same way,
eats the same food, speaks the same coded
language — so it’s easy to forget who you
are sometimes.
You spout acronyms. Some are serious,
like AO (area of operations), and some
are humorous, like BCGs (birth control
goggles — eyewear so ugly it deters
the opposite sex). Was it hard to learn
the lingo?
It took me a year to master it all. I carried a
notebook and repeated phrases out loud.
What did you miss most while you were
in Iraq?
Guinness. And shade — there are hardly
any trees over there.
How has war changed you?
In some ways, it ages you. I’ve experienced
a lot for a twenty-something. But when you’re
in the military, so much is structured and
done for you. So in other ways, I feel younger
than my peers. I haven’t bought clothes in
four years. I’ve never had to pay rent or bills.
It’s like I’ve gone back in time.
Do you miss being in the Army?
I miss the thrill, the camaraderie, and the
sense of purpose. But there’s a lot I don’t
miss. Today, I definitely enjoy growing my
hair out and sleeping in.
ON WRITING
Have you always wanted to write?
Yes. One summer between years at WFU,
I tried to write the “Great American Novel.”
It was terrible. I submitted it to lots of literary
agents, but only one, William Clark, was kind
enough to send me a note back. He rejected
it, but still, it was nice. I’ve since burned every
page of the novel, but it was good for my
development as a writer.
How did your book deal for Kaboom
come about?
A month after The Washington Post article
came out, many literary agents e-mailed me
about turning my blog into a memoir. One of
them, coincidentally, was William Clark. He
didn’t remember me, but I never forgot his
name. So I signed with him, and 10 months
later, Da Capo agreed to publish it. After I
returned from Iraq, I wrote the first draft in
four months, while memories were fresh. The
book hit store shelves in April of this year.
What’s next for you?
I’m in graduate school this fall at Columbia
University in New York City. I’m getting a
master’s degree in Islamic studies. Whether
that degree will lead me to a government job
or a think tank or academia, I don’t know yet.
Do you plan to write more in the future?
Yes, I’m taking another crack at that novel.
This time, I’m writing about veterans and the
madness of New York City. Hopefully it’ll be
better than my first.
