I wrote a grown up, thoughtful I think, post about Afghanistan yesterday. I stand by it. I’ve gotten quite a bit of positive feedback and it’s been more broadly shared than any other post I’ve written since moving to Substack. It didn’t scratch the itch for me though. There’s something else to be said that’s been bleeding through my social media feeds over the last 24 hours from vets all over the world. I spent a restless night thinking about it. And then it made me think of something I haven’t thought about in a long time. And then I finally drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
I owe it back to the universe to share it.
I’m not a tortured soul that can’t shake the ghosts of my past service. And I don’t expect the world to pay me a debt of gratitude for what I did. I believe, down to my bones, that service gave more back to me than I ever gave to it. And I believe that reckoning is the most important thing most vets can make to help them move on. So this feeling that I can’t shake has caught me off guard. Afghanistan isn’t about me. But it’s clear that some part of me is about Afghanistan though. And that part is suffering right now.
Ten years ago last month Major Jeremy Graczyk, USMC was killed in a BASE jumping accident in Switzerland. He was a veteran of Operations Iraqi and Enduring Freedom and a decorated combat veteran. He was a classmate of mine at Annapolis and a friend. I’ve written about him a few times before. The feeling that I had when I learned of his death wasn’t sadness. I’d get to that, slowly. And it wasn’t shock. It was a sort of disbelief that I’ve only felt a few times. It was disbelief in a literal sense. I couldn’t believe it happened. Not that way. Not there. Not to him.
Jeremy was a bigger than life character. He looked the part of a Marine combat hero. He was a stud rugby player. He was better than everyone at everything he did. I’d never tell him to his face but I looked up to him. I saw in him something to aspire to. He was the best of us. And then he was gone. Uselessly. Not charging a hill or jumping on a grenade to save his teammates. BASE jumping. He wasn’t supposed to die that way. The part of Jeremy that was part of me wasn’t either. And it made me feel deeply vulnerable in a way that rattled me.
We like to use the word vulnerable these days to show our humanity. It’s a virtue. But this vulnerability wasn’t that. It was exposure. That the bones of what I thought I was, or could be, could be ripped out so easily and recklessly. It tore me down.
I felt the same feeling when I heard the news of Operation Red Wings. And Extortion 17. Helicopters full of super frog men cut down on their way to an op. Not fighting. Sitting. Waiting. Then gone. None of them were supposed to die that way. The part of them that lived in me was indestructible. But they weren’t. They were frail. Gravity and entropy undid them. As it undoes all of us.
At the heart of the honor of service is the belief that this greater good we fight for is unconquerable. That in time, the truth comes out and the might we show is for right. The part of our service that lives on in us is wound intractably in this belief. We are good. This was good. That thing that we did…it was good. And then one day you see a C17 rolling over scrambling Afghans as the Taliban roll like a relentless tide through that which we served to build. And we can’t believe it. The vulnerability is too much.
It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Not there. Not like that. Not so shamefully. The good guys don’t lose. And we lost. And so the good guy inside of us dies a little…maybe a lot. And for some of us, it was the only good we had left.
For now, and for many vets, Afghanistan represents a death of aspiration. And there’s not much left to do but mourn it. And if hurts.
Sean, so much of our world right now is causing intolerably vulnerable feelings in me right now. I’m afraid I do not know enough about the affairs in Afghanistan to know if what we’ve done is the right thing or not. What I do know is that I can vote for a man (Biden), but not be a super fan of his. I can feel the anger and disappointment in him, or the CDC, for saying no more masks right before Delta, which I think has created a dangerous and unnecessary chaos. My nine year old twins now need to be in spaces where someone next to them is expected to be on the ‘honors system’ to wear a mask?? I did not vote for George W Bush. But, I respected him, and I think he did his best. I at least respect Biden, and will read up more about Afghanistan. But I will not worship him the way Trump ‘fans’ worship Trump. That is dangerous. I’m afraid where we will go if-ok, I’m not going to go there. We still have sometime yet. Anyway Sean, thank you so much for your service. I know you do no need the thanks, but I appreciate you and this blog.