A veteran’s response to an inquiry from a civilian friend regarding the state of Afghanistan in 2021
Shane Moon
“I love your heart brother – for leading and for ministering amongst the really tough stuff. I was also really sad to hear of our past conflict’s brothers in arms struggling to process current geo-political shenanigans against their own experiences of hell on earth.
I also appreciate you staying after my heart. I know your inquiry is drenched in love and concern from one man who has served in his own trenches to another. I love you for that alone amongst many other things.
As for my mild response, you are correct. There is a much deeper pool I could draw from, but of late I find myself loitering in the shallow end. I would add, to the adjective of mild… pensive and, or better yet, restrained. I am trying to be restrained.
My first combat tour was in 2004 to Iraq. I didn’t know shit and I believed I would die over there knowing just that – of course with the added enlightenment of my lack of knowledge. But somehow, I got to go home. I was then reunited with my family, young and growing even if very strained from my coming back “different”. Life and the demands of my job grew more complicated and the stakes continued to grow as well as I got better at my job.
I was in-turn rewarded with my second combat tour in 2008. I knew slightly more than I thought I knew in 2004, but this time I would chew dirt in Afghanistan. Again, believing fully I would die over there. Though the returning terror and exhilaration of hunting people and being hunted by people was a strange but comforting elixir, I also knew academically then that we were on a national level fool’s errand. There were already volumes written on the hubris of previous empires who had tried what we were doing. Though not to be outdone by previous rulers, we decided instead of killing as many as possible, we would also try and re-build everything… in the image of our very own experiment in democracy.
I can still feel the emotion of watching flag draped coffins escorted down the terribly named Disney Drive on Bagram. NATO forces as far as you could see saluting and silent. I would challenge most thought of their fate in the same way while scolding themselves for simultaneously wondering what was for dinner that night only to check themselves back to the present and how they could exact some sort of vengeance for their fallen comrade – no matter their rank, job, or service.
Against the odds I believed I was playing, I returned once again to my family, still young and strained all the more. Yes, I was “different” again. Throw in growth in my faith, family, and advances in my career, skills, lots more separation and celebration of all sorts and so close to retiring… ten years later, I get to go on my third combat tour. To Afghanistan… again in 2017.
This time I was working in a strategic capacity, though still not knowing much more than I did in 2004 – with a bit more of a front row seat to the continued shenanigans of the region and how much the country had not changed since I had last been there. Ducking and dodging and hoping rockets would not find me and traversing the country in various aircraft, I was proud to serve again, but also pissed. I was so close to retiring – from acquiring that carrot that so many do not stick around for.
And yet here I am in this waste of a country at the pointy end of our nation’s foreign policy again. That tour was the closest I have ever come to wanting to end it all. The tension between my teenage daughters, wife of almost twenty years, and friends and family wanting me home, me wanting to be home… wanting to be anywhere but in this backward country where most were still content with living in the 7th century and knowing I could not leave. Because – service before self, America… God and His calling in my life to love and serve even to the point of death.
Again, against the odds… back to normal. Ish… I was again “different”. Though the end had been near again, I was able to “retire” and to transition to the strange and wonderful world of being a civilian. Where everyone has an opinion, a social media account, and where every other person is a professional pundit and almost all information can be weaponized at the speed of light.
Frankly, I am still trying to figure out my role as a husband, and father, manager, and neighbor as a civilian. Though, I do get to unpack some of this stuff with some former this and that’s from the profession of arms. Thankfully we do get pretty real pretty quick. I suppose after one sort of figures death has almost been around the corner so many times, that rhythm feels pretty natural.
And all of this to the here and now… my attempts at restraint. I am sure and I would love if you asked them their thoughts on this (those Vietnam veterans) – there will be some agreement here even though there are generations that separate us.
Carrying the burdens of war is not a sprint or even a marathon. It is a lifelong endeavor. Regardless of how liberating some aspects of various forms of therapy or tools for catharsis may be, there are some poisonous slivers that will and do remain. That can sour a mood or your stomach and flip your mind into hyper-vigilance in an instant. The guilt of survivors and the notion that every person is higher on the suffering totem pole than we are is enough alone to pull air from your chest… enough to make you ponder in some dark corners.
Add to this outline for journeys into and out of darkness – the knowledge that most Americans forgot about Afghanistan a long time ago. Most pundits, politicians, and social media gurus forgot about Afghanistan a long time ago. And in a week, a month, a year? After this moment of the trend that is Afghanistan? Faded to obscurity again. Somewhere else and someone else’s problems. We’ll pray for them. And there I will be with my brothers and sisters in arms. Carrying that burden still, itching at that poisonous sliver.
Final thought on this… Would you do me a favor. Let those Vietnam veterans know they are not alone. Tell them thanks from me… for doing it before it was popular. Before it was socially acceptable to process PTSD. Tell them thanks from me and give them a big man clan hug and tell them their service was not in vain either, no more or less than mine in Afghanistan anyway.
And you should know I very much look forward to our next beer together.”
Shane Moon is a devoted husband, proud father, and retired U.S. Air Force veteran of 20 years. In his previous life he was in the Air Force, specializing in counter-threat operations. He is now a player-coach, fundraising for and leading a team of fundraisers at the largest St. Vincent de Paul in the world, where they feed, clothe, house, and heal those in need. In his spare time, he also runs a small nonprofit business supporting missionaries all over the world with layered safety and security services. He is proud to admit he only knows a little about a lot, but he very much enjoys laughing, learning, loving, and serving.
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