Howdy,
Now that Ahmadullah is safe with Bernie Sanders up in Vermont, I’ve become overwhelmed by sadness. Grief, really.
Upholding the promise to our Afghan allies has been soul-crushing work. It nearly destroyed me, forcing me to the looney bin for a month last year. All of it has been traumatic - the war, the loss, our country’s dishonorable response, and the herculean effort to salvage a bit of our honor.
Yet, at a fundamental level, upholding that promise was also a gigantic distraction. Like all good missions, it provides purpose—and purpose is one of the most addictive drugs to man. We all crave it. Everyone wants their lives to have meaning.
The military is a purpose pusher. It fills young Americans with heapings full of it. Hell, I was a huge purpose peddler when I was in command. It’s how you get people to sign up for a product that is so fundamentally broken (the all-volunteer force) that only a nation amusing themselves to death could be blinded by it.
For the last 2 1/2 years, I’ve been knee-deep in operations. I’ve cut back dramatically, but it’s still lurking behind a few emails. If I wanted to jump back into that world, it’s there. There are others still fighting the good fight. I’m sure they would welcome my help.
But, alas, I know behind that door is nothing but more sorrow, distractions, heartache, and despair.
So, now that Ahmadullah is safe, I must get on with the long, arduous process of grieving Afghanistan.
The military never teaches you how to lose a war. They taught me to kill. They taught me how to conduct interrogations. They taught me how to spot and assess. They taught me a lot of great tricks. I can patch someone up from a gunshot. I can ruck like most people run. I have a very high threshold for pain, and I can endure a lot for a grander purpose.
But who is going to teach me how to live in a country that has betrayed me and my fellow comrades in arms? How do I learn how to “peacefully coexist” with people who have no earthly idea what happened over the last 20 years?
There’s nothing left but grief. There’s nothing left but waking up in the morning and trying to come to terms with an undeniable fact: The Taliban, Al Qaeda, and Pakistani ISI defeated the US, NATO, and our Afghan allies. We lost a war that was started by an attack on the homeland — and we’re too ignorant even to realize it.
At times, I’m angry all over again. I go to CrossFit, and it takes all my strength not to rage at these people. They’re all charming people, sipping their keto energy drinks while gossiping over whatever bullshit they’ve allowed to subsume their lives on their favorite screens.
It’s not right that I hate them. But I do. What can I tell ya? They haven’t done anything wrong, per se. But they also haven’t done anything. They’ve been allowed to float through life without skin in the game. It’s not fair. It’s bullshit.
And nothing will change.
I used to think this country was a very special place. I believed that “the people” were worth fighting, killing, and even dying for.
But I don’t think that anymore. I’m happy to live here. All the freedoms are great, and I know how lucky I am to live in this country.
But I don’t think it’s worth killing over anymore. How could I? Why would I?
My country cared so little for our sacrifices that they abandoned our allies on the battlefield and robbed us of our honor. They cared so little for my feelings that they disparaged my allies, blaming them for a lost war, even though we retreated from the battlefield first.
It’s not just a betrayal—they’re spitting in our faces. But not out of disgust, like in Vietnam, but out of ignorance. People think by blaming the Afghans, they are doing us a solid. Only a country so completely detached from 20 years of war could think such a thing. By spitting on the Afghans, they’re spitting on me.
It’s pathetic. It’s wrong. It’s par for the course.
Whatever comes next in my life, it won’t be a lie; I can guarantee you that. I’ve had enough lies and bullshit to last me a lifetime.
Until Next Time.
Having spent a little time in Afghanistan back in 1976, studying their history, and paying some attention to what was going on during the war with Russia, I knew it was a HUGE mistake for the US to go in, and stay in, as we did. It was never going to end well, despite the valiant efforts of you, your comrades, and our Afghan allies as long as “the powers that be” failed to allow you to fully complete your missions. Reading Michael Vickers’ recent book was infuriating and depressing.
Take care of yourself, Will, as only then can you continue to care for those you love. Thank you for all you have done for Amadullah and his family, and for letting those of us who supported your efforts know that he and his family are safely in Vermont. What else can we do to help you?
Lots of pain in these words. You've seen and experienced things I never have. I can only hope that living a long life will help you reach a place of greater peace. One of the benefits of aging is the perspective of distance. It doesn't undo what came before, but it helps you see how that pain shaped you in ways that gave your life greater meaning. I'm speaking for myself, but i wish that for you, too.