A Soldier’s Valor: Helping and Healing in Iraq

The families were glad to have their soldier sons safely home from Iraq—but the soldiers themselves were angry. “We should have stayed and finished our mission,” one sergeant told a reporter. One of his buddies agreed. “When you see the poverty and people living in mud houses next to Saddam’s palaces, the work we were doing seems justified,” he explained. “It had valor.”

These amazing comments came, not from American servicemen returning home, but from Spanish soldiers—men who had been brought home by their new prime minister, Zapatero. While some of these men were initially opposed to the war, they told the Boston Globe they regretted having to “abandon what they felt was a useful humanitarian mission.”

Clearly, these soldiers knew that they were not there to conquer and kill. They were there to help heal a war-torn nation.

And this is the same spirit American soldiers have exhibited. I’ve talked to many of them in the last few weeks; they have a sense of nobility in what they are doing. They know their mission is worthy.

The behavior of the vast majority of soldiers echoes the values and valor of previous generations of military men we remember on Memorial Day. As the late historian Stephen Ambrose so memorably put it, reflecting on World War II, “The most terrifying sight to most civilians was a squad of armed teenage boys in uniform.” Whether it was the Red Army in Warsaw, the Japanese in Manila, or the Germans in Holland, this sight meant trouble.

There was one exception. “Everywhere in the world,” Ambrose wrote, “the sight of a twelve-man squad of GIs brought joy to people’s hearts.” Why? “Because the sight of those American kids meant cigarettes, candy, c-rations, and freedom. They had come not to conquer or terrorize but to liberate.”

This is why our soldiers are in Iraq today: not as conquerors, but as liberators. And ordinary Iraqis know that when they see coalition soldiers, they are not seeing those who will torture and rape and steal, but they are seeing those who will share their food and water with a hungry child.

When the news surfaced that soldiers were abusing Iraqi prisoners, many in the press gleefully jumped on this story in order to blame everybody from Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld to President Bush.

What most failed to note was that the story made headlines precisely because it was so extraordinary. Americans don’t do things like this, and the bad apples that did it do not represent us.

If Saddam Hussein were still in charge, the torment would have involved, not humiliation, but chopping off hands and feet. And yes, only a handful of our 135,000 soldiers took part. But if we are in Iraq for noble purposes (and we are), we must judge ourselves by the standards of a noble people, and we will.

This is how we prove “the rectitude of our intentions,” as the Declaration of Independence puts it. This is how we prove to a cynical world the truth of the words of that Spanish soldier: that the mission—and the men and woman who carry it out—are noble. A just war, as Aquinas argued, is an expression of Christian love for one’s neighbor.

Our soldiers in Iraq are part of a great tradition of duty, honor, and valor, and that is a tradition we as a free people can celebrate this Memorial Day.

Thank you. Mr. Silverback. Beautiful Memorial Day tribute.

I share this one often because it is true, timeless, lifts the troops, silences the accusers - and, like Chuck Colson's, gives honor where honor is due:

To America's Soldiers

An open letter.

BY BARBARA J. MAKUCH
Originally published ~ WSJ's Opinion Journal, April 9, 2003

I want to thank you for my existence. I want to thank you for your sacrifices, and for your courage, because without your heroism, this world would indeed be a different place. Were it not for the brave soldiers who liberated my father from Dachau, and my mother and her family from the Nazi slaveholders, I would not be here today. Nor would millions of others, all of whom remain indebted to you.

My mother and her family lived under the boot of the Soviets, then became slave laborers for the Nazis. Beaten, starved and terrorized, they could only hope for freedom. My father died a young man. Four years of terror and torture in Dachau left its mark on him. My uncle died at the hands of the Soviets, a bullet in his chest because he refused to remove a cross from the wall. My grandfather died in the U.S.S.R., never having been allowed to leave. He never saw his wife, children or grandchildren again.

When American and Allied forces bombed Nazi Germany, the slaves, prisoners of war and concentration-camp inmates cheered. They were forced to work the fields and in the factories even as the bombers flew overhead. Yet they cheered. They knew that their liberation was at hand. Even as they knew they might not live to see their freedom, they cheered. The miserable existence that they endured under the boot of the Nazis and the Soviets would not break their spirit or resolve, or their love of the soldiers who were losing their lives to liberate them. They prayed for their liberators, never faltering in the belief that they would succeed.

I asked my mother what she thought of war. "It is a terrible thing, but if it means freedom to those who have none, if it means safety for the world, then there is no question what has to be done," She said. "Those who have not suffered under the terror of oppression, those whose lives have been privileged and free, will never understand the sacrifices of those who died for liberty and freedom. It is easy to criticize our leaders from the safety, warmth and comfort of their homes and mansions. While they eat the bread of America, and benefit from the democracy and freedom of speech afforded us by this great nation, they show the ultimate disrespect toward our President and our troops."

An elderly and wise woman, my mother is forever grateful for her life. She is ill, her body ravaged by the hell she went through as a young woman, yet she still has the fight in her that kept her a survivor. The values she instilled in me gave me the courage to serve my country, giving back a small part of what had been given to me.

I remember, as a child, the packages of aid that came to our refugee camp in Germany. Huge tins of processed cheese, warm blankets, dried milk and sometimes chocolate. When the soldiers came, they would give us a stick of gum, a huge smile and a wink. I remember their uniforms; they were handsome and oh so dashing! We were a poor bunch of little kids, but we giggled shyly and tried to communicate. They patted our heads or picked us up to hug us. It wasn't occupation, it wasn't arrogance, it wasn't domination; it was kindness, it was dedication to their cause of freedom, and it was their love of humanity. And it left a lasting impression on me.

As I look upon the faces of our military today, these courageous men and women, brave, compassionate yet fierce in their cause to liberate the Iraqi people, I pray for them all. American, British, Australian, Polish and the scores of others who are facing yet another tyrant. My heart swells with pride and love for those who have given up so much to make this world a better place.

There is no country in the world that can say Americans, when they came to liberate a land, forced our language, culture or religions on anyone. Those of us who chose to embrace this wonderful land do so wholeheartedly, without coercion or force. We do it because we are true patriots. We know what sacrifices were made for our freedom.

May God protect and keep you in his care so that you return to your loved ones. May your families have the support and love of this country we call land of the brave and the home of the free, and may the people of the world never forget the ultimate sacrifice of our troops.

Ms. Makuch received the FBI's Lewis E. Peters Memorial Award in 1992 for her two decades as a double agent spying on the Soviets.

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