The Mattis Race

There wasn’t much to do outside of work at Commando Camp in the months preceding the invasion of Iraq. Most of the staff would go to a makeshift gym in one of the general purpose tents but I liked to run to burn off boredom or steam.

Commando Camp was small—only about ½-mile in circumference and it would take many laps to get in a decent run. When 1st Marine Division began their inflow, an area to the north was being developed to house them all, but we weren’t allowed in this area until it was swept for ordnance.

One day I was on my multi-lap run on the original camp, when then-Brigadier General Jim Mattis, USMC, comes running in from the north (unswept) side. We entered the main area of Camp Commando at the same time and at about the same pace. With me being a major at the time and the general being at his “advanced” age, there was no way I was going to let him even remotely keep pace with me.

So I picked it up a notch, assuming he would just keep his “old man” pace, but he didn’t. He kicks it up a notch too. Undeterred, I press on the gas some more and he follows suit. I increase the speed again. He matches my pace. We’re both aware of the stakes now—our ego, our pride, our reputation—all of it is on the line.

“This guy cannot be that fast,” I think to myself. I’m way younger. I’ve been running my whole life. I’m conditioned.

So, I put it into overdrive. My plan is to leave him in the dust. He’s right there with me. Now we are practically at a dead sprint, running around Commando Camp with the hot desert blazing sun. Arms pumping, legs turning over fast, breath panting and sheer determination on our faces. Officers and enlisted Marines alike stop to stare at us as we fly by.

As we make the counterclockwise turns around the camp, there is a break in the loop that allows one to turn back north … where we aren’t supposed to go. General Mattis breaks off and heads back that way, from the way he originally came.

I keep pace for a bit until I’m sure he’s rounded the bend and can’t see me, then suddenly crash to a stop, heart beating so hard I think it’s going to pound right out of my chest. My hands find my knees and I’m bent over, trying to catch my breath. That “old guy” sure can run.

Later that day, when I was back at my duty station in the COC, General Mattis walks up and stands in front of me. I stand up and greet the general. He looks me square in the eye and says “Ms. McKinley, ma’am, I believe you are a great runner and an All-American girl.”

I tried to explain to him that he practically ran me into a grave, but he wasn’t having it. From that day forth I had a new perspective of the general, and I’m pretty sure he had a new perspective of me too. ⚓