Five minutes before nine, I wander into what the CINC calls the war room. It’s a conference room with maps and telephones that holds about twelve people at a table in front. For the CENTCOM staff and key onlookers, there are built-in tables, raised up amphitheater-style about the sides and back of the room. I sit to the left of the CINC. Usually Sir Peter de la Billiere or Bob Johnston is to my left, and then Stan Arthur’s and Walt Boomer’s representatives. On my right beyond Schwarzkopf are Cal Waller, John Yeosock, and the Frenchman, Lieutenant General Michel Roquejeoffre, with his interpreter kneeling at his side. Buster Glosson sits in the back.

The CINC usually strides in on time. He may be in a good mood. He may be in a foul mood. For me it is not important what mood he is in. My job is to sell him another day of airpower the day after tomorrow, and that is what I am focused on. After the CINC sits down, the rest of us take our seats, and the usual briefings follow.

Often Jack Leide takes some hits. His job is to provide estimates of what is going on in Baghdad. But since no one knows that for sure, his opinions are always open to criticism—especially when these differ from the CINC’s reading of the tea leaves. Moreover, the CINC often wants answers that are simply not available. So when he asks, and Jack can’t answer (nobody could, except the enemy), he gets a needle from Schwarzkopf (who thinks that will make Jack work harder—an impossibility, as he is working as hard as he can). Despite the needles, he is bulletproof and barely flinches when he’s roared at. The man has style.

There also may be briefings about such things as how the Army is doing on its march to the west. Interesting, but not very important to me. I make sure I say nothing, but look intelligent, interested, and respectful. A J-3 staffer briefs the air war, and does a pretty good job at it. He should, since my people gave him everything he is briefing and made sure he didn’t say the wrong things or otherwise light a fuse under the CINC. (The good thing about his temper: people listen when you tell them how to avoid it, and they are grateful. Of course, the bad thing about it is that most will not tell him anything substantial. Why get chewed out when you’ll all be going home in a couple of months? Best to hang in there silent.) I avoid his temper because it might force him to make a bad decision that I would have to live with or somehow get changed. This is serious business—but then, it should be, and we are big boys.