When I think of Jim Mattis, I will always remember the peppery two-star general I met for the first time in Iraq. It was the summer of 2003, and he had just led the 1st Marine Division on the "march up" to Baghdad. He showed his steely will to win by cashiering on the spot a regimental commander who wasn't moving fast enough for his liking.
Now he was supervising the occupation of southern Iraq from a makeshift headquarters in Babil near the site of the legendary Tower of Babel. While more permanent housing was being erected for the Marines and some newly arrived Polish troops, he was content to sleep in a tent behind his operations center and to stand in line for chow behind ordinary grunts.