The unofficial marker for summer's beginning is upon us, and beyond the noise of summer barbecues, some will take time honor servicemembers that fought and died in our nation's wars. As a veteran of a recent war, I feel it is important to look past the general niceties spouted out over heroic service, and truly reflect upon the costs of war, and honor the complexities of the situation that we soldiers are fighting in.
As a former platoon leader in the Third Brigade of the storied First Cavalry Division, I consider all those we lost over our 15 month deployment to Iraq: the 110 killed, and the 400 injured -- a number that includes me.
During a foot patrol in Iraq's city of Baqubah, my boot caught a tripwire and ignited an improvised explosive device (IED) just yards behind me. I was immediately med-evac'ed to Iraq's theatre hospital. In and out of consciousness in the ER, I recall my brigade commander, Colonel Sutherland, arriving to see me, reaching over me and placing a Purple Heart medal on my pillow.
I struggle to take pride in my Purple Heart. A complex medal awarded to the combat-injured, both those who survive and those who are killed, the Purple Heart is largely seen as a medal to be proud of, representing a righteous, enemy-tested capacity to survive, endure, and sacrifice. I certainly see the honor in such an award. It sparks feelings of pride in my soldiers' and my willingness to sacrifice, and I recognize the honor in receiving the oldest, active award the military offers.
Still, as a survivor, I also see the 110 lives lost, some of whose names I can no longer fully recall but who also were awarded the same medal. I see the civilians that I failed to protect while overseeing the security of Iraqi cities. But most of all, I see the innocent Iraqi family that I inadvertently killed: the mother, father, and all their children huddled in fear inside a house I destroyed, tearing innocent life from earth. As I stare down at the image of General Washington on my Purple Heart, I see the faces of the children, etched deep into my memory, staring back at me.
While I am proud of my soldiers' and my achievements, I cannot let go of the people I failed, and I do not want their deaths to go un-honored or forgotten. By carrying the Purple Heart, whether as a lapel pin or as an image engraved on a coffee mug, I remind myself of a tragedy that I am ultimately responsible for -- a violation against humanity.
When you see my Purple Heart, you see my sacrifice, but I see and feel much more. I see the people I killed, the civilians that I failed to protect, and I am reminded that there will be no Purple Heart for them.
I salute you Captain for surviving those kinds of situations with your sense of duty and humanity intact. The family you inadvertently killed have no Purple Heart, but they do have your recognition of their humanity, the sharing of the their tragedy in this eloquent article reminding us of the unintended consequences of war as a memorial.
I was also an 03 (USMC) and I too received the same award, but it took time to learn to sort though the "survivor's guilt".
You train, then you go out each day while in a combat zone with the intention of doing your job the best you can. It's just not always perfect. There are some who join up and serve in ways that don't get them in combat. They don't have opportunities to earn the Purple Heart. They also don't carry the burden that you are, that of wishing you could have done it the very best, and not caused injury or death to another.
My hope for you is that when you look at that Purple Heart, you find another way to "frame" your story, one that honors all those who were injured or killed because of you being less than perfect, but doesn't continue to beat up on yourself.
The danger of battle happens in the blink of an eye, if not sooner! What happens then lasts forever!
Once you have killed an enemy you become a part of a sacred brotherhood, which also goes for losing a comrade, you can never forget, you are transformed in an inexplicable way!
You honestly are the sorriest excuse for a VET I have ever heard of. Why were you walking high diddle diddle straight up the middle of road? Did you learn this mech infantry- ride on the roads and walk up them in Infantry officers basic and/or IOAC these days?
Now, I blame your GENS who have no damn combat experience. I also blame you for disgracing those men who trusted you to lead them in the Army and the Infantry school if they are now teaching you to walk on roads.
Never in my life have I heard a fellow MOPH type play a William Calley. If so- Go to Leavenworth. Why don't you honor those EM who followed you as opposed to trashing them.
As an officer I commaned a Hatchet force Company in 68-early 69. Every junior EM in my company is dead. One platoon was wiped out in 7-8 hours. I am the only officer living and only one NCO is alive. 110 Rhade montagnards died. Hold your head up on Memorial Day cause I am damn glad to be alive to pay my respects. Call those men's parents and tell them how great their son was. You owe them.