Ten years ago, as I prepared to take part in the invasion of Iraq, I never thought women would be allowed to serve in combat jobs in the U.S. military, at least not in my lifetime. To be honest, I wasn't even sure it was a good idea.
Some of my male comrades in the 101st Airborne Division (Air Assault) had even clearer thoughts on the question. They told me, sometimes to my face, that I didn't belong in the military at all, much less in a combat zone. Women serving in the infantry was simply anathema to them.
Then we crossed the berm into Iraq and drove into Baghdad. Suddenly, my skills as an Arabic linguist were more important than my gender: On combat foot patrols with infantry troops, my ability to help successfully accomplish the mission was the only thing that mattered. During major combat operations, the fact that I was a woman was only meaningful if my presence made it easier for the guys to interact with local women. Some Iraqi women were prevented by custom or religion from talking to men; others were simply terrified of huge soldiers strapped in military gear suddenly appearing at their door. The presence of another woman sometimes calmed them and gave them the comfort level to tell us about threats in their neighborhood.
After I returned home, I started to question my earlier doubts. In time, I became convinced that although the older generation of military leaders may not have been prepared to see women attain full equality in uniform, the troops I served alongside would be ready once they moved into leadership positions. They would have seen women medics, helicopter pilots and food specialists serve in combat. Women like Monica Lin Brown, an Army medic who was awarded the Silver Star for her combat valor in Afghanistan; Tammy Duckworth, a helicopter pilot who lost both her legs due to injuries sustained in combat in Iraq; and Shoshana Johnson, a food service specialist who became the first African-American female POW when her unit was ambushed in Iraq.