Accountability

My military career was almost over before it began. When I was a First Lieutenant in Germany, our Battalion deployed to Hohenfels for ten days of training. On the last day, it appeared that Spec 4 Moses Saxon III lost his M16, a career killer for the entire chain of command, starting with me.

 The army takes weapons security seriously. Very seriously. If a soldier loses a weapon, the soldier is punished. For the platoon leader and the company commander, their careers are over. A letter of reprimand was guaranteed for both, effectively ending their time in the Army. If negligence was involved, the officer would be relieved of duty at once and could face charges. Even the battalion commander would feel pain from the incident. You don’t lose weapons.

 A high price to pay? Yes. But accountability was a part of the job that we all accepted. It flowed both ways. Privates bore the immediate consequences of their actions, but as officers we knew if we failed to maintain standards, and supervise and care for our troops and equipment, we were not doing our jobs, and our careers were at risk.

 So, what happened that day, and why was I thinking about Specialist Saxon 45 years later?

 We had ten great days of training at Hohenfels. The communications systems and networks we installed worked like they were supposed to and we scored well on the evaluation that was taking place. As the exercise concluded, we broke down our systems and loaded them on our vehicles. We did a site check ensuring we recovered all our equipment, and then my platoon sergeant, Sergeant First Class (SFC) Paul Teague did a weapons check making sure all weapons were accounted for. They were.

 We climbed in our vehicles and made the hour drive back to the Hohenfels cantonment area where the battalion would gather before returning to Wurzburg. That is where the problem surfaced.

 Specialist Saxon’s squad leader informed SFC Teague that Saxon’s weapon was missing. Paul immediately informed me.

 What!?

 We searched Saxon’s vehicle from top to bottom. We unlocked his communications shelter and checked there. We checked every other vehicle in the platoon. Nothing. Nada. Nope. 

 Damn.

 Sergeant Teague and I talked with each other. Most of the battalion wasn’t yet back. We decided that I, Saxon, and his squad leader would drive back to our site and comb the area. I contacted Captain Tom German, my company commander, and told him what happened. Tom concurred on our course of action and told me to move out. Quickly.

 We drove back, faster than we should have. The ride in the jeep was quiet. I don’t believe two words were spoken. Everyone in the vehicle knew the gravity of the situation, and nobody, including Spec 4 Saxon, tried to spin a narrative. We arrived at the site and started looking around.

 Almost immediately, we found the weapon, leaning against a tree next to where Specialist Saxon’s vehicle had been. He no doubt put it there while doing something at the last minute, and promptly forgot it. I radioed SFC Teague and Captain German, notifying them of the good news.

 What I felt next was a huge combination of relief and anger. I briefly felt nauseous. We climbed in the jeep and drove back to the cantonment area. Again, the ride was deathly silent. Yes, we found the weapon, but Specialist Saxon would pay a price.

 Once back, I spoke in person with Captain German and recommended an Article 15 (non-judicial punishment) for Spec 4 Saxon. He readily agreed.

 A week later, Spec 4 Saxon became PFC Saxon. He also lost one month of pay.

 Why am I thinking about this now?

 Accountability.

 We recently learned that we may have an inventory shortage of certain types of long-range missiles, due to the ongoing war with Iran. We are firing them at a faster rate than we can make new ones. Reports speculate Russia and China are also aware of our potential missile shortages. Of course they are. They too can count. 

 While the White House is saying there is no problem and we have everything we need to do our job in Iran, we also know that recently while at Camp David, the President lashed out at Secretary Hegseth over the issue. Hegseth, weasel that he is, promptly threw Deputy Defense Secretary Stephen Feinberg under the bus for failing to “properly brief President Trump on the extent of the long-range missile and interceptor shortages.” As is usual with this administration, the White House officially denies all of this, but witnesses have verified the accuracy of the Camp David exchange.

 This is the current problem with the Iran war and the Pentagon. We now have a bunch of yes-men, and no one is held accountable for what is going on—not just with the missiles, but with any number of issues. Think of the inaccurate count of how many soldiers have died; the slow and inaccurate count of how many troops have been wounded; the reports of issues on and with our Navy ships in the region, including unaddressed suicide attempts on board; the fact that many of our troops in the region no longer live in barracks, but rather in hotels due to safety concerns; or Trump recently showing himself in an AI generated image with a chest full of unearned medals; and on and on and on…

 When I was in the Army, if a soldier lost a weapon, the lieutenant’s career ended—not because the lieutenant lost it, but because supervision and standards were the lieutenant’s ultimate responsibility. Contrast that with today’s Pentagon, where senior officials enjoy the authority of command but frantically shed the responsibility when things break.

 Who is at fault for any of this? Who is accountable? Trump? Hegseth? Feinberg? Caine? Commanders on the ground?

 There’s a question I know the answer to. No one will be held accountable. That is the current situation at the Pentagon.

 Back in the day, we understood a fundamental truth: authority and accountability are a matched set. You cannot claim the authority of command if you aren’t willing to accept the consequences when something bad happens. Today’s Pentagon leadership wants all the power with none of the penalty. When a crisis hits—whether it’s strategic missile shortages or troop welfare failures—the instinct isn’t to fix the issue or own the shortfall; it’s to find a subordinate to feed to the wolves or issue a denial.

 When leadership culture shifts from mutual responsibility and rigorous standards to deflecting blame and protecting political titles, mission readiness suffers. I think back to Specialist Saxon and the accountability we expected and accepted. It does not seem to be in place today.

Addendum:

• For those who have not been in the military, a Specialist 4 is the rank equivalent of a corporal.
• Thanks to my West Point Classmate Gus Hellzen for reviewing this blog and proving some corrections and editing suggestions.
• Special thanks to my old friend Howard Johnson. Not only did he provide some editing suggestions for the blog, he also periodically asked me about Spec 4 Saxon over the years. I’d told him the story not too long after the incident, and we occasionally discussed Specialist Saxon and what may have become of him.
• I published this blog, also touching on accountability, last week. The dialogues always visit me in the night. “Who mourns the dead?” “We do.” “And who are you?” “Those who came before. The ones fortunate enough to survive, or lucky enough never to go to war. Soldiers we were, but now, we have questions.”  I listen as […] Continue here: https://maxnhall.com/2026/08/11/nocturne-at-the-farm/