Rules of force and crowd control

Sgt. Jason Glassin had always longed for the thrill of jumping from planes. He’s one of those all-Americans, eager to serve out of patriotism and in the spirit of adventure. On his 17th birthday, he enlisted with the Army National Guard, becoming a mortarman and eventually earning the right to pin jump wings on his uniform. Hardcore.

Jason contacted me years ago because in high school, he read one of my novels that featured the National Guard assisting the Idaho State Police in subduing a Boise riot, an event that turns into a tragic flashpoint, igniting a civil war.

Last May, Glassin found himself in a situation he described as “pretty f—ing eerie … so similar to your book.” As rioters burned buildings in Minneapolis in response to the tragic death of George Floyd, Glassin’s commanders ordered soldiers to be ready to ship for crowd control on two to three days’ notice. Sure enough, the call came, and after three days of refresher training, Glassin and his fellow soldiers found themselves activated for federal service and flown to Washington, D.C., to help protect monuments and buildings from rioters.

A day after their arrival, Glassin and his team prepared for their first shift on crowd control. The E-7 sergeant first class whose troops Glassin’s soldiers relieved looked over E-5 Sgt. Glassin.

“You’re the NCOIC?” he asked doubtfully.

Yes, Glassin was the noncommissioned officer in charge.

The sergeant first class and his soldiers had worn masks during their shift, only to be screamed at by a protester for supposedly hiding their identities. Glassin ordered “no masks” for his soldiers. He told them to avoid interacting with protesters. Cameras were everywhere. Anything they said or did would be used against them.

“Remember your rules of force,” he told them. These were different from the rules of engagement given to soldiers in war. Their mission was to de-escalate the situation.

Glassin and his unarmed soldiers started their shift at 1800 hours, just a few blocks from the White House on Pennsylvania Avenue. It was easy at first, but then a big group of protesters headed their way.

“Mostly, they were peaceful,” Glassin said. “But there were large hordes.” Most were dressed in black, chanting, “Black lives matter.” Some thanked the soldiers. Others said, “F— you! Go Home!”

Most of the protesters hated the police. They screamed, “ACAB,” meaning “all cops are bastards,” and yelled, “F— the pigs!”

A passing woman yelled at Glassin’s Guard members for not wearing masks, saying, “You’re endangering everyone’s health!”

Glassin told me he was surprised at “how fast a situation can deteriorate with a crowd of people. One moment things were peaceful. People were walking by us. Certain instigators in a crowd can change the way the crowd feels.” Suddenly, “the crowd [would] gather around us and yell directly at us,” he said.

One angry man jumped up on the hood of Glassin’s Humvee, almost instantly turning the crowd against the National Guard. The mob closed in on the soldiers. Others climbed on the Humvee. Hotter heads or less professional people might have allowed the situation to turn into a disaster similar to the one Glassin had read about. But Glassin and his soldiers were absolute professionals, determined to de-escalate. They moved to another location to allow things to cool down before returning to their assigned control point.

The next day, then-President Donald Trump decided to pursue a similar de-escalation strategy by removing the National Guard presence from Washington, D.C.

Glassin is proud to have done his duty in helping keep things calm.

“It was an interesting experience,” he said. “That’s the National Guardsman in me.”

His courage and calm professionalism reflect great credit upon himself, his unit, and the Army National Guard. We pray for calmer times when the Guard no longer needs to remain actively deployed to protect our cities and our people.

*Some names and call signs in this story may have been changed due to operational security or privacy concerns.

Trent Reedy served as a combat engineer in the Iowa National Guard from 1999 to 2005, including a tour of duty in Afghanistan.

Related Content