William Manchester wrote that “Over the millennia of war certain crack troops must be set apart, elite units which demonstrated gallantry in the face of overwhelming odds,” including his own First Marine Division on Guadalcanal.
To Manchester’s proud list must be added, the Fire Department of the City of New York on Sept. 11, 2001. Murdered that day were 343 FDNY members, and 254 died of Ground Zero illnesses; four more fell in combat on military leave.
Firefighters saved all but 2,200 of 50,000 innocents in the Twin Towers. Most civilians lost were beyond reach of help, trapped above the “fire floors” where the hijacked jetliners impacted. But to the FDNY’s everlasting credit, they tried to rescue each of them. The essence of so many stories of 9/11 heroism was the individual fireman’s unwillingness to abandon those in harm’s way. Their number include a captain who refused to leave the side of a quadriplegic unable to evacuate by stairs, chiefs, and a fire marshal who climbed 78 floors to the impact zone in the South Tower, fought the fire, and comforted the injured —despite likely knowing that the building would collapse.
Firefighters’ stubborn loyalty to strangers that day stands in stark contrast to our nation’s anticipated betrayal of thousands of endangered Afghan allies, and possibly even fellow Americans, to the barbaric enemies responsible for 9/11.
As a saintly NYPD first-grade detective told me on the first anniversary of the attack, our hearts break because they are full of love, pride, and sadness at the same time. At one of the many FDNY funerals, a wise homilist asked the theodicy question: Where was God amid all of this evil? The answer, monsignor suggested, pointing to a mural of the crucifixion above the altar, was that firefighters marching into the towers were Jesus’s love incarnate among us, present in those who chose with free will to offer a Christ-like sacrifice to rescue others from that inferno. The cop and the priest were right.
As the 20th anniversary of the FDNY’s own calvary draws near, our looming disgrace in Afghanistan is hard to reconcile with their stirring example on 9/11. It’s natural to say that the losses of hundreds of firemen and cops that day, thousands of service members, and dozens of intelligence officers since, now mean nothing. But it’s also wrong. Their actions were fundamentally moral. Their selfless personal decisions remain undiminished by bad political decisions made later by others; their deeds are eternal, their grace unsullied.
But the solace offered by faith about the legacies of the fallen comes with concomitant obligations upon us here and now. We ought to emulate the brave spirit of those good men and women, not sully our national honor in Afghanistan. Through great efforts, earlier generations of Americans gifted us a country to be proud of. It’s our duty, especially those privileged to briefly serve in positions of public responsibility, to uphold that legacy and pass it on untarnished to our children. Have we as a country collectively lost so much self-confidence and self-respect in just one short generation that we’d now abandon friends to the Taliban and al Qaeda, only for fear of fighting to save our colleagues?
Recent events again beg the question, “Where is God?” as we read through tears of anger and sadness about infants caught in barbed wire, toddlers trampled, teenagers falling from aircraft, and now suicide bombings. Those allied service members at Kabul airport provide the answer.
The stain upon the names and reputations of policymakers, who’d hand over Afghan friends or Americans to be put to the sword by savages, would be historic and indelible. Instead, give our troops the time to finish their job, beyond Aug. 31 if needed. The Taliban’s arrogant demand that we withdraw by that date should be answered, as William Barret Travis responded to a surrender demand at the Alamo, with a cannon shot.
Let’s leave no one vulnerable behind, carry friends to safety on broad shoulders, and kindly welcome Afghans to whom we owe debts of gratitude.
Kevin Carroll lived and worked in Manhattan on 9/11. He served as an Army and CIA officer in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Yemen.
