I recently received the below email from a close friend who is currently serving his second tour of duty in Iraq. He wrote it following the death of Staff Special Sargent Roberto Andrade, 26 years old. I can only say that the contrasting worlds and emotions members of the military face are hard to reconcile, and even harder for us to imagine. The below message asks us if we as a nation - as a people - are even interested in attempting to imagine them anymore.
Omission.
An American soldier died just over a week ago. He was killed, actually. He was killed while leading a patrol through the still dangerous streets of East Baghdad. There is sorrow for his death and there is grieving from those that knew him to be true of heart and earnest at task. He was a good man, but you wouldn't know his name.
You wouldn't know his name because there is no mention of his name. I looked. I found mention of his death no more than three times in American media. Three times a regurgitation of a sterile Department of Defense notification. Maybe it was poor timing to die in such a time of euphoria and anticipation. The inauguration was an important day, even for those soldiers at war that had nothing change; not yet at least.
You wouldn't know his name because President Obama didn't mention his name. In a speech that soared in its realistic grounding, President Obama reminded us that "...it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things -- some celebrated, but more often men and women obscure in their labor -- who have carried us up the long, rugged path toward prosperity and freedom."
He then highlighted historical American examples of sacrifice, resting on the American service member. Obama reminded the country that "For us, they fought and died, in places like Concord and Gettysburg; Normandy and Khe Sahn."
I found it first ironic that the man that ten minutes prior inherited not only the presidency, but the title of Commander-in-Chief, would omit such apposite testaments to the idea of American sacrifice as the present wars I deliberately omit now.
Then, remembering that I could not find a soldier's name celebrated in heroism for the beautiful gift of his very life, irony turned tragic. For the thousands of us who have toiled and suffered and still do so today, I stood amiss at my country and my President that perhaps we weren't worth mentioning. Perhaps, as with any omission, it was best not to dwell on unpleasant things when given the opportunity to move on.
Later in the speech, however, the President showed that we were not forgotten, stating "As we consider the road that unfolds before us, we remember with humble gratitude those brave Americans who, at this very hour, patrol far-off deserts and distant mountains. They have something to tell us today, just as the fallen heroes who lie in Arlington whisper through the ages." This left me reassured, but still reticent. Why did our battle go unnamed? Why was the very identity of our war marked by an omission that only served to diminish its significance?
To be sure, January 20th did not wipe clean the memory of the past eight years. In many ways, the past eight years are still happening, for better or worse, for families like that of my unnamed soldier and that of the families of each soldier that he devoted himself to keeping alive. Whatever this next month, year, century will bring for this country, dare we not forget that true progress is only ever made in the acceptance of humility. That is the life of a soldier and that is the history of this nation.
I fear, though, for the unnamed soldier, because while I remember his sacrifice, will my country? On January 21st, the soldiers at war went back to work, never in search of victory, but in the name of service and with the hope that our work is part of a progression towards peace. Yet, in spite of our effort, of the death we have seen and the innumerable casualties of both body and mind that we presently bear, we were omitted in politics.
I assure you, another American soldier will die in war and their life will have meaning for those that knew him. They will celebrate his name and the truth that no matter how unpleasant the memory of his passing, that passing was integral to finding a way forward in a difficult time, of persevering in their very name. They will know and they will remember.
For the country, though, omission is neglect. Though these wars will be seen to their end, they will never be concluded until an unpleasant past is acknowledged for its part in determining direction in a most challenging future. The American service member patiently awaits their next role, but still silently struggles today. The first step for us all is to know and remember his name.
