In a year fraught with emotion as we withdraw from Afghanistan, we may ask ourselves this Memorial Day: What do we owe our war dead?
Memorial Day is not about the living or even the veterans who died peaceably in their beds, whose service is commemorated on Armistice Day in November. Memorial Day, formerly Decoration Day, is about those who fell in combat. President Ronald Reagan observed, “We see these soldiers in our mind as old and wise. … But most of them were boys when they died, and they gave up two lives — the one they were living and the one they would have lived.” How do we commemorate that double sacrifice? The question is harder to answer this year.
For a generation now, young men and women have volunteered to fight in Afghanistan, Iraq, and peripheral theaters from Africa to the Philippines. Since 9/11, 7,056 people from the military and dozens from the intelligence community have given their lives, in addition to the 2,977 civilians, first responders, and service members killed that first day of the war and the thousands who’ve died from ground-zero diseases since.
We’ve yet suffered no attacks at home as bad as 9/11, despite many thwarted plots, and overseas efforts deserve credit for that. Most of those responsible for 9/11 were captured or killed, which was necessary as retributive justice. But smaller attacks here resumed in 2009 and continued through 2017. We are evacuating Afghanistan, leaving it to the control of the Taliban and al Qaeda, Iraq is a vassal of our adversary Iran, and countries America fought in became failed states, such as Libya, Syria, and Yemen.
Former President George W. Bush said on Oct. 7, 2001, the day we began to strike back in Afghanistan: “We will not waver, we will not tire, we will not falter, and we will not fail.” The hard truth is that, unfortunately, his successors did exactly those things. So it’s impossible to explain a life lost since 2001 by reference to victory over fascism, maintenance of the union, or the achievement of independence, as those who persevered through the world wars, Civil War, or the American Revolution could understand their loved ones’ deaths.
It’s tempting to state, as did President Abraham Lincoln at Gettysburg, that we should honor the dead by reinforcing policy commitments for which they gave their lives, which may still be compelling. But this war has gone on so long that it isn’t intellectually honest to assert what a fireman killed in 2001, a Marine in 2004, or CIA officers in 2009 or 2012 (whom I knew) would advise us to do in Kabul or Baghdad today. So what can we do? Three things.
First, it’s common to state that our fallen died for the teammate next to them, and this is true in the final analysis — but we should not ignore why they signed up in the first place. Too often, these reasons are reduced to economic or personal hardships, which surely exist. But these men and women were volunteers, not victims: Many were motivated by ideals set forth in the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution, Lincoln’s and John Kennedy’s inaugurals, Franklin Roosevelt’s Four Freedoms, Martin Luther King Jr.’s I Have a Dream speech, or Reagan’s Pointe du Hoc speech, for example.
These are worth rereading. We should rededicate ourselves to these civic virtues, act upon them as we best understand them to apply in public life, and do so charitably and in a bipartisan or nonpartisan manner whenever possible.
Second, as lives were given in defense of these ideals, we should show sincere respect to tangible symbols of these beliefs. The flag, the Pledge of Allegiance, military cemeteries, war memorials, and, yes, the national anthem deserve our reverence as extensions of our respect for the sacrifices of the fallen.
There are many good times for political demonstrations, but during The Star-Spangled Banner isn’t among them. Sensitivity is a two-way street. The point of these kneeling protests has long since been made — enough already. Similarly, vandalism, such as the desecration last month of a monument in New York’s Central Park to sailors lost on the USS Maine, is never acceptable.
Third, if the Founding Fathers’ writings and our greatest leaders’ speeches are America’s gospels, then our war dead’s stories are the Acts of the Apostles. It’s often observed that veterans are reluctant to tell their own stories. While true, it’s only in deference to far superior tales that we know about the fallen. Ask them instead to speak of those lost too young: of how they lived, loved, and served.
Gold Star families deserve to have their relatives’ stories kept alive, including tales of children who proudly followed fathers and grandfathers into uniform, youngsters with limitless futures who volunteered for dangerous patrols, middle-aged spouses and parents who stepped up to carry their share of the burden of war-zone tours, those who saved colleagues’ lives with their last acts, men and women whose final hours demonstrated the sincerity of their faith in and dedication to God and country, family and friends.
You will be glad to learn these stories. And some patriot’s soul will feel warmer for being remembered as a flesh-and-blood person.
Kevin Carroll served as an Army and CIA officer in the war on terror.
