LEADERSHIP LEARNING - On Sheep, Wolves, and Sheepdogs

Me ? I'm proud to have always been a sheepdog.....

My love of our K-9 companions knows no bounds because I share an understanding of what Dogs know instinctively, that some must stand ready to fight the Wolves....always.

On Sheep, Wolves, and Sheepdogs - Dave Grossman - By LTC (RET) Dave Grossman, author of "On Killing."

One Vietnam veteran, an old retired colonel, once said this to me:


"Most of the people in our society are sheep." They are kind, gentle, productive creatures who can only hurt one another by accident." This is true. Remember, the murder rate is six per 100,000 per year, and the aggravated assault rate is four per 1,000 per year. What this means is that the vast majority of Americans are not inclined to hurt one another. Some estimates say that two million Americans are victims of violent crimes every year, a tragic, staggering number, perhaps an all-time record rate of violent crime. But there are almost 300 million Americans, which means that the odds of being a victim of violent crime is considerably less than one in a hundred on any given year. Furthermore, since many violent crimes are committed by repeat offenders, the actual number of violent citizens is considerably less than two million.

Thus there is a paradox, and we must grasp both ends of the situation: We may well be in the most violent times in history, but violence is still remarkably rare. This is because most citizens are kind, decent people who are not capable of hurting each other, except by accident or under extreme provocation. They are sheep.

"Then there are the wolves," the old war veteran said, "and the wolves feed on the sheep without mercy." Do you believe there are wolves out there who will feed on the flock without mercy?

You better believe it. There are evil men in this world and they are capable of evil deeds. The moment you forget that or pretend it is not so, you become a sheep. There is no safety in denial.

"Then there are sheepdogs," he went on, "and I'm a sheepdog. I live to protect the flock and confront the wolf."

If you have no capacity for violence then you are a healthy productive citizen, a sheep. If you have a capacity for violence and no empathy for your fellow citizens, then you have defined an aggressive sociopath, a wolf.

But what if you have a capacity for violence, and a deep love for your fellow citizens? What do you have then? A sheepdog, a warrior, someone who is walking the hero's path. Someone who can walk into the heart of darkness, into the universal human phobia, and walk out unscathed

Let me expand on this old soldier's excellent model of the sheep, wolves, and sheepdogs. We know that the sheep live in denial, that is what makes them sheep. They do not want to believe that there is evil in the world. They can accept the fact that fires can happen, which is why they want fire extinguishers, fire sprinklers, fire alarms and fire exits throughout their kids' schools.

But many of them are outraged at the idea of putting an armed police officer in their kid's school. Our children are thousands of times more likely to be killed or seriously injured by school violence than fire, but the sheep's only response to the possibility of violence is denial. The idea of someone coming to kill or harm their child is just too hard, and so they chose the path of denial.

The sheep generally do not like the sheepdog. He looks a lot like the wolf. He has fangs and the capacity for violence. The difference, though, is that the sheepdog must not, can not and will not ever harm the sheep. Any sheep dog who intentionally harms the lowliest little lamb will be punished and removed. The world cannot work any other way, at least not in a representative democracy or a republic such as ours.

Still, the sheepdog disturbs the sheep. He is a constant reminder that there are wolves in the land. They would prefer that he didn't tell them where to go, or give them traffic tickets, or stand at the ready in our airports in camouflage fatigues holding an M-16. Some sheep would much rather have the sheepdog cash in his fangs, spray paint himself white, and go, "Baa."

Until the wolf shows up. Then the entire flock tries desperately to hide behind one lonely sheepdog.

Look at what happened after September 11, 2001 when the wolf pounded hard on the door. Remember how America, more than ever before, felt differently about their law enforcement officers and military personnel? Remember how many times you heard the word hero?

Understand that there is nothing morally superior about being a sheepdog; it is just what you choose to be. Also understand that a sheepdog is a funny critter: He is always sniffing around out on the perimeter, checking the breeze, barking at things that go bump in the night, and yearning for a righteous battle.

That is, the young sheepdogs yearn for a righteous battle. The old sheepdogs are a little older and wiser, but they move to the sound of the guns when needed right along with the young ones.

Here is how the sheep and the sheepdog think differently. The sheep pretend the wolf will never come, but the sheepdog lives for that day. After the attacks on September 11, 2001, most of the sheep, that is, most citizens in America said, "Thank God I wasn't on one of those planes." The sheepdogs, the warriors, said, "Dear God, I wish I could have been on one of those planes. Maybe I could have made a difference." When you are truly transformed into a warrior and have truly invested yourself into warriorhood, you want to be there. You want to be able to make a difference.

There is nothing morally superior about the sheepdog, the warrior, but he does have one real advantage. Only one. And that is that he is able to survive and thrive in an environment that destroys 98 percent of the population.

Some people may be destined to be sheep and others might be genetically primed to be wolves or sheepdogs. But I believe that most people can choose which one they want to be, and I'm proud to say that more and more Americans are choosing to become sheepdogs.

Seven months after the attack on September 11, 2001, Todd Beamer was honored in his hometown of Cranbury, New Jersey. Todd, as you recall, was the man on Flight 93 over Pennsylvania who called on his cell phone to alert an operator from United Airlines about the hijacking. When he learned of the other three passenger planes that had been used as weapons, Todd dropped his phone and uttered the words, "Let's roll," which authorities believe was a signal to the other passengers to confront the terrorist hijackers. In one hour, a transformation occurred among the passengers - athletes, business people and parents. -- from sheep to sheepdogs and together they fought the wolves, ultimately saving an unknown number of lives on the ground.

There is no safety for honest men except by believing all possible evil of evil men. - Edmund Burke

If you want to be a sheep, then you can be a sheep and that is okay, but you must understand the price you pay. When the wolf comes, you and your loved ones are going to die if there is not a sheepdog there to protect you. If you want to be a wolf, you can be one, but the sheepdogs are going to hunt you down and you will never have rest, safety, trust or love.

But if you want to be a sheepdog and walk the warrior's path, then you must make a conscious and moral decision every day to dedicate, equip and prepare yourself to thrive in that toxic, corrosive moment when the wolf comes knocking at the door.

Their only response to the wolf, though, is denial, and all too often their response to the sheepdog is scorn and disdain. But the sheepdog quietly asks himself, "Do you have and idea how hard it would be to live with yourself if your loved ones attacked and killed, and you had to stand there helplessly because you were unprepared for that day?"

A Massachusetts Soldiers' Father on his son's dedication to duty, “He wanted to go over there and help those people,’’

Yesterday, on Christmas Eve, 420 Massachusetts National Guardsmen came home to the Baystate and were welcomed by family & friends to thunderous applause.....

At the same time, dedicated Massachusetts Guardsmen were at their duty stations at Camp Phoenix, assisting the people of Afghanistan.....While you enjoy your day, think about those in harm's way.

I salute them and understand, fully, the sacrifice they make each day to allow us the freedoms we enjoy...Thanks Guys (and ladies).....you have this retired Seabees humble thanks as I know what it's like to be out there, especially at this time of year.



Afghanistan duty, Christmas spirit
Bay State guardsmen, residents hope to win hearts
Boston Globe - 12/25/10

CAMP PHOENIX, Afghanistan — The Afghan driver of an oil tanker truck squints nervously through the dust as soldiers frisk him. Then they search inside his vehicle.

“What’s this?’’ asks First Lieutenant Alan Molin Jr. of Hardwick, pulling out a rusty canister of white powder.

“Sugar,’’ his translator replies.

“Taste it,’’ Molin tells the driver.

Here at Camp Phoenix, a sprawling, razor-wire-wrapped compound on the outskirts of Kabul that is home to some 2,500 US and NATO soldiers, Molin is one of 170 members of the Massachusetts National Guard, part of the largest deployment of Bay State guardsmen since World War II. Inside the dusty base, it is Christmas. A decorated tree stands on the porch of the chapel. American soldiers sing “Silent Night’’ outside the mess hall. Santa poses for pictures. As their families back home mark the holidays without them, the soldiers try to find small ways to acknowledge Christmas while doing their job.

But the tension is always evident. The Massachusetts soldiers are warned the enemy might like nothing better than to strike Americans on the Christian holiday. The base has been on high alert since last week, when a suicide bomber struck an Afghan National Army convoy nearby. The explosion shook the guard towers and sent up plumes of black smoke. Local children have told soldiers a new suicide bomber might be lurking.

Following Molin’s instruction, the tanker truck driver scoops the white substance into his mouth. He smiles. A crowd of Afghan men in woolen shawls watch from a nearby earthen doorway, murmuring in a language the soldiers don’t understand.

Molin lets the driver and his precious cargo inside the camp.

Across Afghanistan, 689 soldiers from the First Battalion of the 181st Infantry Regiment, including those in the Massachusetts National Guard, man the first line of defense on a dozen bases.

They inspect fuel trucks that arrive each morning, take foot patrols each afternoon, and man the towers 24 hours a day. The war has lasted nine years, and it is easy to forget the everyday mission of thousands of soldiers. A Christmastime view, seen through the eyes of Molin and his fellow soldiers, brings the experience more closely into focus.

It is a view not just of soldiers and guns, but of a gift — many gifts, really — from people across Massachusetts.

Here to help

One day earlier this week, Molin wakes before dawn, as he always does to head down to the fuel depot to inspect the trucks. Half a dozen soldiers are already there.

Specialist Stephen Leon of Chelsea jokes that he would rather be watching his favorite soap opera. He hardly gets a laugh out of Molin, who grabs his clipboard as the squad fans out into the street with their weapons, ready to inspect the first truck.

Molin, a lean, serious 26-year-old, is used to early mornings. He grew up on his family farm in the small town of Hardwick in Western Massachusetts, where his parents still sell fresh meat and eggs out of the front door of the country home that his father built by hand.

Molin commanded his high school Junior ROTC program and received a bachelor’s degree and his officer’s commission at the Massachusetts Maritime Academy. He grew up with a belief that the military should help people, said his mother, Diane Molin. When his unit was deployed during an ice storm two years ago, he threw himself into rescuing the elderly who had no heat. As for Afghanistan, she said, her son expressed bitterness at the Sept. 11 attackers, who were directed by Al Qaeda leaders who used the country as their base. But he felt empathy for typical Afghans. “He wanted to go over there and help those people,’’ she said.

This year, at Easter dinner, Molin told his mother he was going to Afghanistan. She burst into tears.

“Just remember when you are over there that you don’t have to be a hero,’’ his father Alan Molin told him. “The cemetery is full of heroes.’’

Molin, who works as facilities engineer at Equity Office Properties, a Boston-based firm, embraced the mission. He arrived here in October with the rest of his battalion, in his first deployment to Afghanistan.

At Camp Phoenix, he is the company’s executive officer, organizing translators, logistics, and fuel contracts. He also volunteers to help other soldiers collect used clothes from the United States for Operation Outreach Afghanistan, a soldier-run program that distributes hats, sweaters, and mittens to Afghan communities around the base.

A month ago, when his parents were wondering what to send him for Christmas, Molin asked them to send used clothing for Afghans. He sent letters to his friends and colleagues back in Massachusetts with the same request.

At first, the response was slow, his father said. But, more recently, boxes have started pouring in. One from a local elementary school in Hardwick, another from Massachusetts Maritime Academy. Then his mother, a part-time mail carrier, set up a drop-off at a Hardwick post office. Soon, boxes started pouring into Camp Phoenix, helping to fill four 20-foot metal storage containers with some 5,000 pounds of clothes, more than Molin imagined he would muster.

Such humanitarian efforts can be humbling, with success hard to quantify, and far removed from the victory in combat that so many infantrymen dream about.

But Molin thinks efforts like Operation Outreach could make the difference in the long, hard battle for allegiances in Afghanistan.

“You help them, first, because you are human,’’ he says. “But you are also trying to win the war, and the best way to do that is to earn their trust. I feel good, because it shows that people back home care. Let’s be honest: How often does the average person back home think about the war?


Yanks meet Yankees fan

After finishing his duty at the fuel depot, Molin heads out with eight other soldiers to walk the perimeter of the base and ask villagers about rumors of a suicide bomber.

The soldiers fan out, two walking backward to protect their flank. Molin waves to two men washing their hands outside a mosque. One waves back. The other just stares. A little girl in a purple scarf with a baby on her hip runs up to them with her hand out. “Dollar,’’ she says, and then adds: “Chocolate.’’ But none of the soldiers brought chocolate with them because village elders have asked them to stop handing out goods to the children in the street.

Giving gifts in a war-torn nation can cause fights and even riots, so the soldiers have planned more formal missions to give away the donated clothes through schools. This week, Molin has been trying to arrange a clothing delivery to a school for autistic children that a carpet salesman told him about on one of his patrols.

But that project is on hold, because the base is on high alert, so he hasn’t been given permission to do reconnaissance on the school to make sure the soldiers can’t be ambushed when they bring the clothes.

So for now, Molin focuses on the children tagging along in the road behind him, some of whom have been given hats and gloves by previous patrols.

A 14-year-old boy who introduces himself as Johnny Troublemaker wears a black puffy coat that soldiers have given, along with his nickname.

“Happy day to you, guys,’’ he says, giving high-fives all around.

Johnny says he wants to be a US military interpreter when he grows up, a lucrative job in this knot of poor villages.

An old man in a white turban approaches, carrying a sick child on his back. The soldiers try to arrange for a medic. Villagers swarm around them. There is nothing to the rumors of a suicide bomber, they say.

The soldiers walk on, like Pied Pipers, collecting some 50 children who followed behind, who all demand pens, chocolate, money, and attention. Some pick up rocks to throw at the Americans when they are told they won’t receive more gifts. But Johnny Troublemaker shoos them away.

Around a corner, in a desolate industrial area where dust from a marble tile factory covers the streets, the soldiers find an Afghan man sitting alone on a lawn chair, wearing traditional billowy pants and shirt and a black ski hat embroidered with a Yankees logo.

Sergeant Ron Dennison of Waltham stares in disbelief.

“I like New York,’’ the man says, pumping his fists in the air.

“The Red Sox,’’ Dennison barks, and then moves on.

The soldiers return to the base in good spirits. Maybe there was no big threat after all. But the towers still had to be manned at all times, even on Christmas Eve. After all, the Pentagon said 34 soldiers from Massachusetts have died in Afghanistan in hostile and nonhostile circumstances since the war began in 2001. Three Massachusetts men have died in Afghanistan this month.

So Molin bypasses the mess hall, where Santa is giving out hot chocolate and hugs, and doesn’t linger long at the Christmas carols. Instead, he heads to Tower 12, to see Sergeant Gregory McAvoy, a sniper from Ware, who is working a double shift.

Several times a week, McAvoy stares down at the Afghans who occupy the fields beyond Camp Phoenix’s walls. He has never exchanged a word with them, but he has memorized the rhythm of their daily lives. The youth who congregate at the pool hall. The children who play cricket. The farmers who come to pull up their carrots. The old man who relieves himself every day against the walls of the US military base.

Tonight is no different. McAvoy will eat turkey from a foam plate and sit for 16 hours without a radio or a book, waiting for an enemy that might never come. “It’s just a normal night,’’ he said.

But on Christmas Day, when his shift is over, he will return to the barracks, which are decorated with letters that his mother, Bobbie McAvoy, sent in giant care packages from home. She organized 130 neighbors from Ware and other friends to send the missives, Christmas cards, and finger-painted wreaths to the soldiers from Massachusetts. Alongside the letters on the plywood walls are stockings, colored lights, two tiny Christmas trees bulging with ornaments, and a snowman hat.

Soon, the squad will have time to share a meal, open gifts, and celebrate for a short while, before it is time to go back to work.

For now, Molin nods at McAvoy and checks his watch. Molin goes back to his office and turns on a computer. An e-mail crosses the screen. People across Massachusetts are sending another dozen boxes of clothing, for the people of Afghanistan.

Farah Stockman can be reached at fstockman@globe.com.

© Copyright 2010 Globe Newspaper Company.

Services for Lt. Robert M. Kelly, USMC today at Arlington National Cemetery

ALCON -

As I have witnessed, many of the readers of this blog hold the mission that our military undertakes as serious business. There can be no more serious business than putting men & women in the uniform of our country in harm's way. I deeply appreciate the support that each of us give to this mission.

Today, I was able to fulfill part of that mission by attending the funeral services for Lt. Robert M. Kelly, USMC today at the Fort Myer Chapel, located next to Arlington National Cemetery in Washington, DC. I was able to do so because I work for an Airline since arriving back in Boston from Afghanistan, and they are the kind of company that not only allows you to get on a jet anytime you want to (or need to) but also encourages you to do so. I was encouraged to do this by my colleagues and it was approved by my supervisor. I thought about it and decided in a very short time, that it was the absolutely right thing to do, I can do it, and I should do it.

Monday Morning, Nov. 22nd, I got on a flight out of Boston and arrived at Reagan National Airport in just over an hour. Arlington National Cemetery is very close (2 1/2 miles) and I got a cab there. Of Course, the cabby didn't know about the location for the ceremony and he was able to bring me deep into the middle of Arlington National Cemetery. I got turned around for a minute and wound up back near the entrance. It gave me the opportunity to pay my respects to President Kennedy, Jacqueline Kennedy and their children who are buried there. The fact that this was November 22nd was not lost on me and seemed ironic that I would be travelling there to honor a Marine and still it happens to be November 22nd of all days. I also paid my respects at his brother's gravesites Senator Robert Kennedy and Senator Edward Kennedy. Each are buried close together near the front of the park.

Afterwards I had to find my way to the other side of the cemetery and was helped out by a park employee. I wound up on a brisk walk across Arlington National Cemetery, and emerged at the back gate which leads into Ft. Meyer. The Gate Guards pointed the way and the chapel was only 1000 yards across the base. I arrived slightly warm but no worse for the wear.

I was in line with hundreds of others, and spent part of my time speaking to young Marine Sgt. who was with friends who are also Marines, but were in civilian dress. The line was a who's-who of military with enough Two Star & Three Star Generals, Navy Captains, Marine Colonels and so many other officers that you could have filled an antique shop with all the brass. Many others there also including Policemen, Firemen and people from various groups to pay their respects. We were ushered in to the Chapel and directed to our seats by Marines as attendants. The Chapel is a bright and airy space, modern but at the same time, providing you with a sense of history.

The ceremony began with a presentation to Lt. Kelly's wife and family of the commendations awarded to him. A Purple Heart for wounds sustained in the battle he died in and a Navy/Marine Corps Commendation medal with Combat Distinguishing Device.authorized for valor (heroism) for a number of missions he accomplished including the one where he lost his life.

The services were very appropriate and the Navy Chaplain gave a great sermon about the meaning of how Christ died for us and he conquered death so that we would not need to be afraid. That Robert had simply gone on to eternal life with our Lord Jesus Christ and was waiting for friends & family when they got there. He ended his sermon with a traditional Irish Blessing (given in Gaelic) saying, " Farewell, God Bless you and see you when we meet again. "

The eulogies were given by his Brother, Capt. John Kelly, USMC and his father Lt. General John F. Kelly, USMC. His Brother went first and spoke about how his brother was a fine man, happy and as expected, the light of his families' life along with his bride, Heather. It was in the middle of his Brother's eulogy that I realized why I was drawn to be there on this day for this Marine.

Captain Kelly detailed about his Brother's career and spoke about the different assignments that Robert had held including Operation Iraqi Freedom, and specifically Operation Al Fajr in Fallujah in November 2004. It was at that moment that the Good Lord's desire to have me go became apparent to me. I was struck by the fact that not only had I been in Afghanistan with this splendid young Marine, but we had served together in Fallujah when I was there in 2004-2005. He & I were not personally acquainted, but we had served under the same Marine Command, and he was there providing security for me & my fellow Seabees. I found myself welling up and thanking the Lord for his will to push me to be there to honor this Marine as Robert was one of those who helped me while I was deployed.

His brother spoke about that the streets of our country and other countries around the world were guarded by United States Marines. He said that he was confident that the streets in Heaven were also guarded by United States Marines. He then stated, " And my Brother is one of those Marines, guarding the streets in heaven." Very touching and true, I am sure.

His father spoke next, saying first and foremost, that he was not there to eulogize his son. He stated "Anyone who is laid out for his final resting place dressed in the uniform of his country's finest, the United States Marines, and wrapped in his country's flag did not need eulogizing and his life's accomplishments are evident to all." Lt. General Kelly went on to describe that we as a country are at war with an enemy that will not go away and only wants our destruction and submission. He spoke eloquently regarding his opinion of the threat our nation faces and how that we as a country are protected by a small number of men & women who volunteer, give up their regular lives and go out to defend our nation against those who would do it harm. He said that many doubt our country but he said as long as our country produced men & women like those he spoke of, there was much hope that we would rid the world of the vile filth that wages terror against innocents.

His last statement was poignant as he described how as a Commander, he had to speak to many families and wounded Marines about the loss of their friends, sons, brothers, fathers and others. Each time, whether he wrote them a letter from overseas, or visited with them in person, he tried to imagine what they were going through and empathize with their loss.

He then stated, " I owe each and every one of them an apology as I could not imagine the depth of the pain they were going through as my wife and I have been going through it since we were notified of the loss of our son. It is unbearable. " His statement speaks volumes to a Father's love & pride for his son.

I was honored and privileged enough to be in attendance among many of our country's finest warriors, Robert's friends & family and felt that I had been called there by a force much greater than anything I can explain here with my paltry words. It was a moment I will not forget.

I had to leave at the end of the ceremonies as I had to catch the return flight to Boston and the services ended close to 2:10 with my return flight at just after 3:00. I was able to walk back across Arlington National Cemetery to the main entrance where they have cabs standing by. I imagined that somewhere in heaven, there was a Marine Lt. laughing as he watched this old Seabee hump his way back across the cemetery to the cab stand. I hope it provided all of them up there in heaven a good laugh. I regret that I was unable to attend the graveside ceremonies, but being there for his services was extraordinary. The time schedule only allowed me time to be there for the service in the chapel.

I caught a cab to the airport, checked in for the flight and was able to be back in my office in Boston by 17:00, no worse for the wear & tear but feeling that I had fulfilled and important mission Monday. Honoring one of our Country's finest, a warrior, son, brother, friend, husband and defender of our Flag.

There could be no finer mission than the one he fulfilled and I wanted to make sure I did not fail in my mission to honor him as we had shared many of the same places and experiences. He as a United States Marine and me, as a US Navy Seabee in Iraq and a contractor supporting the Marines at Camp Leatherneck, Afghanistan. He & I share a bond that was not apparent until his passing but carried no less importance after his death than it did in life. We were brothers-in-arms and that was all that mattered.

Fair Winds & following seas, shipmate. Rest easy Marine, we have the watch.

Sebastian Junger- Filmmaker; Author, War and The Perfect Storm (5/25/10) - Please watch this video

YOU TUBE video of a discussion with Sebastian Junger, Author of WAR, the definitive book about Afghanistan, especially the battle for the Korengal Valley - Please take the time to watch this, if not for any other reason, in tribute to the MEN who fought there.

Next time you are having a bad day, think about how tough the guys had it out there. Bet you will feel better about your day immediately.

We remember all who served on Veterans Day - the 11th hour on the 11th day of the 11th month

Middleboro, MA is my hometown and we are a town that has sent many men and a few women off to fight the wars in defense of our country. The number of Veterans over the years include two Medal of Honor recipients. This is a town that understands the cost of war and the price of Freedom.

Our Fine Veterans Memorial Park is a jewel that sits on the Town hall lawn, was created and designed by the Veterans and was paid for by donations without a single cent of town, state or Federal assistance. It is truly a beautiful place to honor all who served their country.

On the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, we take pause to remember all those who laid down their normal lives and took up the uniform in defense of our country when they were called.

The History of Veterans Day

At the 11th hour on the 11th day of the 11th month of 1918, the Great War ends. At 5 a.m. that morning, Germany, bereft of manpower and supplies and faced with imminent invasion, signed an armistice agreement with the Allies in a railroad car outside Compiégne, France. The First World War left nine million soldiers dead and 21 million wounded, with Germany, Russia, Austria-Hungary, France, and Great Britain each losing nearly a million or more lives. In addition, at least five million civilians died from disease, starvation, or exposure.

On June 28, 1914, in an event that is widely regarded as sparking the outbreak of World War I, Archduke Franz Ferdinand, heir to the Austro-Hungarian empire, was shot to death with his wife by Bosnian Serb Gavrilo Princip in Sarajevo, Bosnia. Ferdinand had been inspecting his uncle's imperial armed forces in Bosnia and Herzegovina, despite the threat of Serbian nationalists who wanted these Austro-Hungarian possessions to join newly independent Serbia. Austria-Hungary blamed the Serbian government for the attack and hoped to use the incident as justification for settling the problem of Slavic nationalism once and for all. However, as Russia supported Serbia, an Austro-Hungarian declaration of war was delayed until its leaders received assurances from German leader Kaiser Wilhelm II that Germany would support their cause in the event of a Russian intervention.

On July 28, Austria-Hungary declared war on Serbia, and the tenuous peace between Europe's great powers collapsed. On July 29, Austro-Hungarian forces began to shell the Serbian capital, Belgrade, and Russia, Serbia's ally, ordered a troop mobilization against Austria-Hungary. France, allied with Russia, began to mobilize on August 1. France and Germany declared war against each other on August 3. After crossing through neutral Luxembourg, the German army invaded Belgium on the night of August 3-4, prompting Great Britain, Belgium's ally, to declare war against Germany.
For the most part, the people of Europe greeted the outbreak of war with jubilation. Most patriotically assumed that their country would be victorious within months. Of the initial belligerents, Germany was most prepared for the outbreak of hostilities, and its military leaders had formatted a sophisticated military strategy known as the "Schlieffen Plan," which envisioned the conquest of France through a great arcing offensive through Belgium and into northern France. Russia, slow to mobilize, was to be kept occupied by Austro-Hungarian forces while Germany attacked France.

The Schlieffen Plan was nearly successful, but in early September the French rallied and halted the German advance at the bloody Battle of the Marne near Paris. By the end of 1914, well over a million soldiers of various nationalities had been killed on the battlefields of Europe, and neither for the Allies nor the Central Powers was a final victory in sight. On the western front—the battle line that stretched across northern France and Belgium—the combatants settled down in the trenches for a terrible war of attrition.

In 1915, the Allies attempted to break the stalemate with an amphibious invasion of Turkey, which had joined the Central Powers in October 1914, but after heavy bloodshed the Allies were forced to retreat in early 1916. The year 1916 saw great offensives by Germany and Britain along the western front, but neither side accomplished a decisive victory. In the east, Germany was more successful, and the disorganized Russian army suffered terrible losses, spurring the outbreak of the Russian Revolution in 1917. By the end of 1917, the Bolsheviks had seized power in Russia and immediately set about negotiating peace with Germany. In 1918, the infusion of American troops and resources into the western front finally tipped the scale in the Allies' favor. Germany signed an armistice agreement with the Allies on November 11, 1918.

World War I was known as the "war to end all wars" because of the great slaughter and destruction it caused. Unfortunately, the peace treaty that officially ended the conflict—the Treaty of Versailles of 1919—forced punitive terms on Germany that destabilized Europe and laid the groundwork for World War II.