"Zero Regrets"

An examination of a warriors soul during downfall.

This pit in my stomach, this feeling that starts at sunrise, and ends in restless darkness, is worsening. I can't help but notice a fracture, a collective sense of dread and sorrow in my tribe of former warfighters, with some bravely still in the fight and, regardless of age, all still capable of bringing it. Many strong men and a few women, those I cherish, love, and respect, now seem gray, lacking vibrance, as if winter is coming to kill the living green of summer with no promise of spring. This beautiful thing that we hold so dear, this American dream, these ideals, freedoms, and people for which we long ago decided was worthy of our blood, our flesh, our happiness, our sanity, and our very lives, appears at best to have forgotten us. At worst, they betrayed us, lied, cheated, stole, poisoned, and branded us with scars and wounds that can never fully heal.

You see, we took an oath in our youth that we took to heart, and we did so with clear eyes and clean souls. We were to be defenders of our kingdom; we became the wall that kept monsters at bay and would stop at nothing to ensure life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness for those we swore to defend. In many ways, we gave up those objectives for ourselves, knowing one day we could look back on a life of service and sacrifice and be satisfied knowing we did the right thing for the right reasons in a time when few dared to stand. It will all be worth it in the end, perhaps a lie we told ourselves, never suspecting what was to come.

Our great American decay, perhaps our very destruction, is everywhere to be seen. You can't hide from it, though if you do, you are a coward. A clever coward, perhaps the most intelligent of us all, but for the rest, and for me, we must remain engaged and present. A quick jaunt of the news circuit announces that America is losing and losing big, but that's not what is portrayed to the crowds at the circus, who are fat and happy with their bread and distraction. They don't realize how thin this ice is, and those of us screaming for them to walk backward are drowned out by the incessant hiss of the serpents on TV. Soon, we will all be drowning, and no one will be coming to save us, to fish us from the lake of blood which we created, and now must find some way to escape.

Veterans are haunted by many things, and I won't pretend that I can speak for them all, but I can speak for some who share my absolute love for this country and its people. Whether they like to admit it or not, they came back changed, different. Many struggle with intense mental trauma from combat, sprinkle in TBI and non-functioning endocrine systems, and society in "normal" times can be stressful enough. These aren't normal times by any means. You see, it isn't simply the dwindling cash in our bank accounts stolen by a government that hates us and given to the undeserving. It isn't the daily nightmare of social media displaying rampant immorality coming for our children. It isn't simply the drugs creating real-life zombies on our streets on the behest of the dragon sitting across the pacific, for these things are here for the average citizen to experience and find fault. Veterans have a different horror now.

Our arms are adorned with memorial bracelets for brothers and sisters who gave their all, mothers who gave their all. Those names on our wrists, and names dedicated on sections of the highway you drive on each day, were once flesh and blood and life and love to us, they were best friends, the best of us. And they are gone, and we are here, and I can't honestly tell you for what great purpose for America it is that they died, and even worse, wouldn't want them to know what we have become. How can we reconcile this? I know evil must be confronted, and I don't hide the enjoyment I got from extinguishing it, and I know that it is always an honorable death when facing down evil, but that should have been done at home, and many should still be here.

Lloyd Austin carved these words out of me this week when he offered one of the coldest and yet one of his most honest moments, which should show you everything you need to know about him and how our government thinks of you. When asked before the House Armed Services Committee if he had regrets from the manner in which the withdrawal in Afghanistan took place, he offered that "He supports the President's Decision..” and, when pressed again, said this…

REP. JIM BANKS - "Do you have regrets about the withdrawal or how the withdrawal occurred from Afghanistan that cost the lives of 13 of our service members?"

SECDEF - "I don't have any regrets." 

REP. JIM BANKS - "You don't have any regrets. Secretary Austin — that's very telling — Secretary Austin, has there ever been any accountability for anyone within the Department of Defense for the deadly, botched, and embarrassing withdrawal from Afghanistan? Any accountability?

SECDEF - "Hey, listen, our troops evacuated 124,000 people off that airfield, and.."

Banks would grill Austin a bit more as plump Milley looks on in some trance, immune to the words that, if words were able to kill, would have dropped me and many others dead in our tracks. Austin highlighted 124,000 Afghans as a point of pride and misdirection when the most important number was 13. This is genuine American sorrow, betrayal, a stabbing, senseless bloodletting with no sense of justice, yet celebrated somehow as success. Such arrogance, yet, this is who they are, don't let them fool you. I see them for who they are. I hope you can as well.

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The suicides were sporadic and trickled in for a long time, as if the twenty-two pushups were actually working in some invisible life force. Then, they would come in waves, more around the holidays, faces of men and women who wore our uniform with pride, now memorialized on Facebook for us to pass around to each other in sadness and despair. I think this could be a deadly social contagion, for it is impossible to NOT think about suicide when it is all that fills our feeds. Not that all of us contemplate doing it, but we can not ignore it, because it has gone from a trickle to a stream to a river. Some of the most recent were our most resilient, titans who we all looked to for inspiration. Did they feel this decay, did they feel cheated all these years later? Who can stop this?

In my own struggle, this destruction of the thing that I love, the people that I love, that I thought I had fought for, has taken its toll. I look around at my friends on similar walks, and I can't help but notice much of the same. Anger and sadness complement each other in my life, an American warrior's yin and yang, a cycle that best not have too much alcohol or drugs introduced, for they can be the straw that breaks ones back in a hazy moment of weakness. This great nation we fought, bled, and died for betrayed us, even worse, this great nation shouldn't have sent us to fight in the first place. After twenty years of war, we can't even get a coherent explanation from our dictators when we ask, "Why? For what great purpose?". Instead, they offer pills to placate, hoping the problem will fade from existence as the casualties mount off the battlefield. This war is still raging in our hearts and minds, you can't hear it, but if you look closely enough at your local veteran cemetery, you will find many freshly dug graves marked OEF and OIF, great Americans gone far too soon. 

I no longer have to question what my father felt as he watched the news cycle announce the fall of Saigon, what his eyes saw when that Huey lifted off the roof of the CIA safehouse at 22 Gia Long Street. A striking image that visually displayed the abject failure to the Americans that fought there, an image that should have been violently seared into the memories of Lloyd Austin, Petraeus, Powell, Milley, Mattis, McCrystal, McCraven, McCain, and offering them the perfect blueprint of what NOT to do. These men knew better, and for them, I offer no quarter, no safe passage, no books of theirs will adorn my shelves, their names should be struck from our history and presented as failures and frauds, but that likely will never happen. They were to be guardians of the men and women in uniform, they should have protected us from the politicians and bankers. Instead, they gladly offered us up as a sacrifice for some unknown objective, writing their memoirs along the way touting their success. My father and many others died without getting justice for Vietnam, I suspect I shall experience the same, although I will not be silent and I will not be placated. We have a duty to do better for our people as long as oxygen fills our lungs, although I can’t help but notice we are running out of time. 

For those who carried our nation's colors overseas, who thought we were fighting for liberty, who watched far too many of our brothers and sisters take the long journey home lifeless under that beautiful red, white, and blue, these times are soul-crushing and dark. We took ownership of this liberty experiment with our very being and fought hard for it, and to watch it be raped, pillaged, degraded, and to be poisoned is beyond painful. It is genuine torture, true horror when you hear them tell you they "haven't any regrets...". For many of us, losing hope is all that is left, but let me offer a parting idea and word that may be useful to those sitting in darkness - vengeance.

Vengeance doesn't mean violence, although we should all be prepared for it, and I caution those whose thoughts dwell in violence because that is very much a part of their trap. Vengeance is not giving them what they want, not giving in to the pills, not finding the bottom of the bottle, and the final curtain call earlier than God intended. Vengeance is living and breathing and raising a family and honoring God, being engaged when they want you silent, being loudly and stubbornly present when they want you pacified, being physically strong when they want you weak and broken. Vengeance is outlasting them. Vengeance is writing our history books accurately when they are gone, and watching our children walk in power in times that are doubtless to be difficult, but to walk prepared to face evil nonetheless. As our country crumbles, and our system cracks, this is the time perhaps more than ever when you are needed in this fight, as weak men destroy and everything they touch turns to darkness, our lives will burn bright and light the way for our people. Now is the time for our vengeance.