Sorry, but it doesn’t bother me
As Afghanistan fell to the Taliban following the fiasco of the U.S. withdrawal, headlines from politicians and veterans expressed outrage. Many asked leading questions “Did hearing the news upset you?”
No. Sorry, but it doesn’t bother me. Before the response elicits shock allow me to explain.
I served three tours in Iraq as an infantryman and wounded on the second tour. I lost Marines and friends. Years later I watched the news of ISIS flooding in from Syria, through the same town where I bled in Iraq. It didn’t bother me.
I’m not callous to the pain and suffering of the people in those war-torn countries. They are fellow human beings who want to live in peace and raise their families. They desire a level of prosperity free from danger. It is a blessing to live in our country instead of theirs. I cannot affect their circumstances.
Why does the brokenness of Iraq and Afghanistan not bother me? Simple: I wasn’t fighting for them. They were broken long before we got there, they will continue to be so for a long time. Not one person I know fought “to make Iraq/Afghanistan a better place.” Even the most fervent fought to “get back at them” after the terrorist attacks on September 11th, 2001. “Them” was ill defined. We did not fight to make someone else’s country a better place. Those few who thought so were idealistic but not realistic.
Rudyard Kipling wrote The Young British Soldier in 1895 including the line “When you’re wounded and left on Afghanistan’s plains.” The Russians fought in Afghanistan on the 1980’s, and again in Rambo III. Nothing changed. I held no illusions Afghanistan would become a bastion of freedom. Veterans who fought Nazi’s returned to walk the beaches of Normandy with family. Veterans of Iraq cannot imagine walking the streets of Fallujah to get some falafel.
Like many I was eager to be tested in combat. This is not a psychopathic desire. It is inherent in the character of a warrior. Further proof is found in the regrets of veterans who did not see combat, and see themselves as lesser, or of having “missed their chance.” Those veterans are no less a warrior, no less valuable, than those who have seen combat. They simply were not tested by the confrontation of flesh and steel. Many young people on their first enlistment state adamantly they are “getting out” because of unfulfilled desires of seeing combat. It is a short-sighted and professionally immature perspective. The one compelled to serve in combat must commit themselves to the profession of arms, train for years, and wait for the call.
I encourage veterans to recall Article 1 of the Code of Conduct. “I am an American, fighting in the forces which guard my country and our way of life. I am prepared to give my life in their defense.” The culture of the Marine Corps teaches when there is a fight, we go. After the Marine Barracks bombing in Beirut in October 1983, a reporter asked a Marine if he thought we should be here. The immediate and matter-of-fact response is profound: “Well, the Marines are here so I should be here.” There it is. We fight for one another.
We go wherever the fight is. The politicians decide where “over there” will be. We don’t have the luxury of picking which fight to sit out because we disagree. War is an extension of politics. The military is one instrument of national power leveraged when diplomacy, information, and economics fail to produce results. Before going to war, politicians should clearly identify two things: 1) Why are we going and, 2) What defines success? Our country’s leaders failed in this respect. We lost the wars. For many the cost is very personal.
I attended a reunion last year with our company from Iraq, with men from all walks of life and ethnicities. We hiked to the grave of one of our Marines, Medal of Honor Recipient Corporal Jason Dunham. We shared our grief and love for one another. We did not discuss the current state of Iraq. Our brothers did not die in vain. They were not fighting for Iraq, they were fighting for each other and for us. We counted the cost, knowing some of us would not return. Sometimes we wish we could take their place. Sadly, some have taken their own lives as they assume an undeserved guilt. If the fallen could speak, they would wish us to live good lives, laugh hard, and love deep. We may cry but need not despair. It is noble to fight for the well-being of people in another country, but that was not our cause. We should reorient our perspective so that we can respond “No, it doesn’t really bother me.”