In 2003, I was a naval flight officer and the executive officer of a Navy F-14D Tomcat squadron flying off of the USS CONSTELLATION (CV-64). I was one of the more senior aviators aboard and I flew in the backseat of the Tomcat as an airwing strike lead. For the first several months of the cruise, we flew OPERATION SOUTHERN WATCH (OSW) missions over Iraq, defending the no-fly zone in southern Iraq.

During OSW, Iraqi gunners shot at coalition planes with anti-aircraft-artillery (AAA), provoking a retaliatory "response option," where we would strike back at targets in the southern part of Iraq. We had to stay within the UN mandated no-fly-zone, at least eighty miles south of Baghdad -- still close enough to see a large, bright, and foreboding city with our night vision goggles.

We knew that soon we'd be ordered to strike targets in Baghdad, a city with so many surface-to-air missile sites (SAMS) and anti-aircraft artillery (AAA) that our Powerpoint briefs showing their intersecting sectors made the entire area around Baghdad resemble one dark, overlapping kill zone. We were aware of aircraft losses on the first days of OPERATION DESERT STORM in 1991, and knew that Saddam's forces had improved their equipment and training. We knew the first missions of the war would be rough.

When Secretary Powell briefed the U.N. Security Council on Iraq's alleged weapons of mass destruction in February, 2003, and showed photos of the mobile germ warfare trucks, I was dismayed and disappointed. I had actually taken hundreds of photo-reconnaissance pictures of Iraq in my F-14D Tomcat. It seemed like the administration was throwing in everything they could, including the kitchen sink to justify receiving a U.N. resolution supporting war with Iraq. We found out later that the intelligence was cherry-picked by the administration. It was apparent to me that the intelligence was unsupported by what I was actually seeing in southern Iraq. We were in a low-scale air war with Iraq already -- the Bush administration cooked the books to invade.

On March 21, 2003, we were sent north on the first non-stealth air mission to kick off OPERATION IRAQI FREEDOM. As the strike element lead, my biggest concern, aside from the safety of my men, was not to "screw it up."

In the middle of the night, I took off for Baghdad with "Webstur," a truly exceptional pilot and friend in my front seat. On our wing were Taco and Toast in another Tomcat, and Spank and Bloody in a couple of Hornets on the other side. Loaded up with 2,000 lb GPS-guided JDAM bombs, and with some of the best naval aviators in the world on our wing, all six of us were ready to penetrate the engagement zones and face the wrath of SAM operators and AAA gunners.

As we approached Baghdad, I realized that due to weather and aerial refueling problems we'd be short several critical electronic warfare aircraft, including a Prowler and four HARM-shooting and SAM suppressing Hornets. We were below our minimum "go no-go" criteria and I had a critical decision to make.

When I tried to relay these challenges to command and control agencies and our overall package lead, we heard nothing but silence. Confusion reigned that first night when our overall package lead and folks in the command and control business just stopped talking to us. We train to work autonomously, so I made the command decision for us to press on into combat without the minimum assets we said we would need to protect our jets. We hadn't come all this way to turn around. Not on "company time." Not when there was work to be done.

Inbound to the target, we saw what seemed like a hundred cruise missiles hit Baghdad. Amid the explosions, I noticed a substantial AAA response. Like clockwork, as the last cruise missiles exploded from the initial stealth aircraft attack we approached our target in Southeastern Baghdad.

I had hoped that the cruise missile strikes would slow down the Iraqi gunners, but they immediately began launching volleys of SAMS at us. Though none of them appeared to be guided, they certainly got our attention. We hit our targets and then headed south as fast as our Tomcats and Hornets would take us. I have never felt so proud of our airwing, country, and the US Navy.

After I landed, I was asked to debrief the press on the details of our mission. I was so tired from our long mission, that I didn't even recognize that one of my interviewers was Ann Curry from the Today show. I had no clue she was even on the ship. It was a surreal night. Because I didn't sleep the night before, I was wiped out after that mission. It was a good mission. We struck a major communication center and Republican Guard base, but I was concerned that our enemy wouldn't roll over, that there was a lot of fight left in them.

My squadron continued to strike targets in support of ground forces through April of 2003, before returning home to Oceana Naval Air Station in Virginia Beach.

It is true that several of my fellow aviators were highly decorated for their heroic actions in the skies over Iraq. What we did, however, pales in comparison to what some of our service members have done in combat on the ground and in the air in Iraq, Afghanistan, and around the world.

Now that five years have passed, and with two high-level Pentagon jobs under my belt, I am retired from the Navy and running for Congress. Our nation is on the wrong course in so many areas, including our Iraq policy.

Our soldiers, sailors, airmen, Marines and their families comprise the finest military the world has ever known. Our servicemembers will take on any mission. The solution in Iraq, though, must be achieved in the political arena, not on the battlefield. We must force "tough love" on the Iraqi leaders and have them defend their own country by beginning a smart, phased withdrawal of our troops from Iraq.

Together, we can defeat Al Qaeda, but we must get our priorities straight.