It was a statement, not an assault. The only casualty was the victim of a defective round of ammunition or a damaged launcher. He was, however, bravely doing his job. He was defending the checkpoint, defending his brothers, and defending his country. He died in his efforts.
Afghanistan lost another good man.
There was another piece of news this week. MAJ Andrew Olmsted was killed in Iraq on January 3rd. MAJ Olmsted had a website, AndrewOlmsted.com, and had been blogging for about five years. Apparently he was a pioneering milblogger. I never would have thought of keeping a blog if it weren't for people like MAJ Olmsted.
Of course, the first blog that I read wasn't even written by a soldier. It was written by Scott Kesterson, an independent journalist who went through the process of getting approved to embed with the 41st Brigade, Oregon Army National Guard when they were preparing to mobilize to come here to Afghanistan. He went through training with them at Camp Shelby, MS and deployed with them to Afghanistan in early summer of 2006. He left Afghanistan a couple of months after I arrived. I had some vague hope of meeting him. I never ran into him.
I've emailed Scott a couple of times, but he's a busy man. I get emails about his movie, but I have never heard from him directly.
The second blog I found was Bouhammer. Great blog. It told me a lot about the ETT mission and life in general for him and his team in Afghanistan. He was here at the same time as Mr. Kesterson. He went home safely last summer as well.
There have been others, but MAJ Olmsted was a pioneer. His blog was being published by the Rocky Mountain News, an arrangement that the Major made sure to get Army approval for. I read today that MAJ Olmsted had written a contingency posting... something that I have considered... and left it with a trusted friend to post in the event that he was killed. His trusted friend performed this duty and made the Major's final post.
It's a tremendous thought, writing something like that.
I think that I've made my wishes clear to my family. I gave my brother, the patriarch of the family since my father's death over 20 years ago, some instructions to be opened only in the event of my death. One of the main ones was that my service is never to be used for political purposes. I feel so sorry for SPC Casey Sheehan. I would be absolutely mortified to have my corpse abused in such a manner. That poor young man's body has been dragged through the streets in a Munchhausenesque Mogadishu drag that would make any soldier cringe.
That was one of the Major's points in his final post. I can fully appreciate the thought. It's one of those things that makes a man think of writing a contingency posting. I have never actually written one. I'm not sure why. I've actually started and then stopped.
There was more, much more... or so I'm told. I cannot read the post. His website, AndrewOlmsted.com is blocked by the military servers as the same thing that all blog sites are:
Access Denied (content_filter_denied)
Your request was denied because of its content categorization: "Message Boards and Forums;Productivity PG"
For assistance, contact your network support team.
The part that surprises me is that someone actually had to go into a system and block his site specifically, because it's not a blogger account of a wordpress site or anything like that. Someone actually manually blocked his site from access as a waste of time.
Those of us who are far enough "out there" to have our internet access limited to military systems are really the only ones who are blocked from accessing those sites. The larger, more established FOBs have commercial systems that the soldiers can access or can buy into. Out here, we are stuck with the military networks. Note to the IT boys... the man is deceased, and anything that he had to say, I think, should be available for soldiers to read. We can read US Magazine online, delve into the private life of Britney Spears, but we cannot read the thoughts of a published United States Army Major who may have some valuable advice or a shared experience. Enough said.
My condolences to MAJ Olmsted's family and his friends. I didn't know him, and while I know that I have read some of his words in the past, I can't claim to know the man. What I can claim is to have benefitted from his example. The Major set an example of telling people at home how it is out on the ground, in spite of the mainstream media. People like the Major set an example of sharing the experience, so that it is more of a national experience than a singular thing felt by just one man. Now, he's set an example of sharing his thoughts on his own death, to be shared after his death and made part of that same national consciousness. That's putting it out there.
Another thing that MAJ Olmsted said was that he died doing what he loved, and that he wished that everyone who read what he wrote would be able to say the same thing at the end of their lives. That's strong. What a wish.
It's a terrible, awesome, and introspective thing to contemplate one's own death, especially months in advance. While I can't say for sure, I think that every soldier who deploys to a combat zone considers it in his or her own way. I can see the end results of these thoughts in many soldiers, but I am not privy to their thoughts. It's a private thing. For most of us, this whole journey, ordeal, sacrifice, and walkabout in a strange land with strange ways and instant, violent death is pretty private. The thoughts that come when one considers the big "what if?" are probably the most private of these things that we go through internally. Most of us do not share them with our loved ones, and only very rarely with each other; though we all have them.
In our processing of these thoughts, some write letters that will never be read. Some write letters to be mailed in the event of. Some don't express it all except in their actions. The most expressive many are about it is to write that letter. That letter will be shared only with one person, or perhaps their family. Most of them will actually never serve their purpose, for their writers will live and that letter will become moot. MAJ Olmsted's commitment to sharing his experience in this war went so far as to share these most private of thoughts. I cannot read them from where I am now, but I can imagine them.
Is it possible for death to have purpose? An American soldier typically does not serve out of a fatalistic sense of self-sacrifice; more an optimistic sense of purpose and duty. Typically, I think. A soldier wants for his life to have purpose, for his actions to have purpose, for his death, if it comes, to be for something. I'm sure that Major Olmsted's life and actions had plenty of purpose, and he gave his life in the pursuit of those purposes. His death served to bring that posting forth; revealing the depth of one man's consideration of these most private thoughts, which came to being.
I wonder; if Said Mohammad could read and write, and if he had written something to leave behind, would it have been much different, in the end, from Major Olmsted's thoughts? We will never know. What I do know is that this week the world is short two good men, and it is poorer for their loss and greater for their sacrifice.
Thank you for this post. Bless your heart.
ReplyDeleteHi Adventure,
ReplyDeleteThis is Andy's last post:
"I am leaving this message for you because it appears I must leave sooner than I intended. I would have preferred to say this in person, but since I cannot, let me say it here."
G'Kar, Babylon 5
"Only the dead have seen the end of war."
Plato*
This is an entry I would have preferred not to have published, but there are limits to what we can control in life, and apparently I have passed one of those limits. And so, like G'Kar, I must say here what I would much prefer to say in person. I want to thank hilzoy for putting it up for me. It's not easy asking anyone to do something for you in the event of your death, and it is a testament to her quality that she didn't hesitate to accept the charge. As with many bloggers, I have a disgustingly large ego, and so I just couldn't bear the thought of not being able to have the last word if the need arose. Perhaps I take that further than most, I don't know. I hope so. It's frightening to think there are many people as neurotic as I am in the world. In any case, since I won't get another chance to say what I think, I wanted to take advantage of this opportunity. Such as it is.
"When some people die, it's time to be sad. But when other people die, like really evil people, or the Irish, it's time to celebrate."
Jimmy Bender, "Greg the Bunny"
"And maybe now it's your turn
To die kicking some ass."
Freedom Isn't Free, Team America
What I don't want this to be is a chance for me, or anyone else, to be maudlin. I'm dead. That sucks, at least for me and my family and friends. But all the tears in the world aren't going to bring me back, so I would prefer that people remember the good things about me rather than mourning my loss. (If it turns out a specific number of tears will, in fact, bring me back to life, then by all means, break out the onions.) I had a pretty good life, as I noted above. Sure, all things being equal I would have preferred to have more time, but I have no business complaining with all the good fortune I've enjoyed in my life. So if you're up for that, put on a little 80s music (preferably vintage 1980-1984), grab a Coke and have a drink with me. If you have it, throw 'Freedom Isn't Free' from the Team America soundtrack in; if you can't laugh at that song, I think you need to lighten up a little. I'm dead, but if you're reading this, you're not, so take a moment to enjoy that happy fact.
[continued below the fold]
"Our thoughts form the universe. They always matter."
Citizen G'Kar, Babylon 5
Believe it or not, one of the things I will miss most is not being able to blog any longer. The ability to put my thoughts on (virtual) paper and put them where people can read and respond to them has been marvelous, even if most people who have read my writings haven't agreed with them. If there is any hope for the long term success of democracy, it will be if people agree to listen to and try to understand their political opponents rather than simply seeking to crush them. While the blogosphere has its share of partisans, there are some awfully smart people making excellent arguments out there as well, and I know I have learned quite a bit since I began blogging. I flatter myself I may have made a good argument or two as well; if I didn't, please don't tell me. It has been a great five-plus years. I got to meet a lot of people who are way smarter than me, including such luminaries as Virginia Postrel and her husband Stephen (speaking strictly from a 'improving the species' perspective, it's tragic those two don't have kids, because they're both scary smart.), the estimable hilzoy and Sebastian of Obsidian Wings, Jeff Goldstein and Stephen Green, the men who consistently frustrated me with their mix of wit and wisdom I could never match, and I've no doubt left out a number of people to whom I apologize. Bottom line: if I got the chance to meet you through blogging, I enjoyed it. I'm only sorry I couldn't meet more of you. In particular I'd like to thank Jim Henley, who while we've never met has been a true comrade, whose words have taught me and whose support has been of great personal value to me. I would very much have enjoyed meeting Jim.
Blogging put me in touch with an inordinate number of smart people, an exhilarating if humbling experience. When I was young, I was smart, but the older I got, the more I realized just how dumb I was in comparison to truly smart people. But, to my credit, I think, I was at least smart enough to pay attention to the people with real brains and even occasionally learn something from them. It has been joy and a pleasure having the opportunity to do this.
"It's not fair."
"No. It's not. Death never is."
Captain John Sheridan and Dr. Stephen Franklin, Babylon 5
"They didn't even dig him a decent grave."
"Well, it's not how you're buried. It's how you're remembered."
Cimarron and Wil Andersen, The Cowboys
I suppose I should speak to the circumstances of my death. It would be nice to believe that I died leading men in battle, preferably saving their lives at the cost of my own. More likely I was caught by a marksman or an IED. But if there is an afterlife, I'm telling anyone who asks that I went down surrounded by hundreds of insurgents defending a village composed solely of innocent women and children. It'll be our little secret, ok?
I do ask (not that I'm in a position to enforce this) that no one try to use my death to further their political purposes. I went to Iraq and did what I did for my reasons, not yours. My life isn't a chit to be used to bludgeon people to silence on either side. If you think the U.S. should stay in Iraq, don't drag me into it by claiming that somehow my death demands us staying in Iraq. If you think the U.S. ought to get out tomorrow, don't cite my name as an example of someone's life who was wasted by our mission in Iraq. I have my own opinions about what we should do about Iraq, but since I'm not around to expound on them I'd prefer others not try and use me as some kind of moral capital to support a position I probably didn't support. Further, this is tough enough on my family without their having to see my picture being used in some rally or my name being cited for some political purpose. You can fight political battles without hurting my family, and I'd prefer that you did so.
On a similar note, while you're free to think whatever you like about my life and death, if you think I wasted my life, I'll tell you you're wrong. We're all going to die of something. I died doing a job I loved. When your time comes, I hope you are as fortunate as I was.
"What an idiot! What a loser!"
Chaz Reingold, Wedding Crashers
"Oh and I don't want to die for you, but if dying's asked of me;
I'll bear that cross with honor, 'cause freedom don't come free."
American Soldier, Toby Keith
Those who know me through my writings on the Internet over the past five-plus years probably have wondered at times about my chosen profession. While I am not a Libertarian, I certainly hold strongly individualistic beliefs. Yet I have spent my life in a profession that is not generally known for rugged individualism. Worse, I volunteered to return to active duty knowing that the choice would almost certainly lead me to Iraq. The simple explanation might be that I was simply stupid, and certainly I make no bones about having done some dumb things in my life, but I don't think this can be chalked up to stupidity. Maybe I was inconsistent in my beliefs; there are few people who adhere religiously to the doctrines of their chosen philosophy, whatever that may be. But I don't think that was the case in this instance either.
As passionate as I am about personal freedom, I don't buy the claims of anarchists that humanity would be just fine without any government at all. There are too many people in the world who believe that they know best how people should live their lives, and many of them are more than willing to use force to impose those beliefs on others. A world without government simply wouldn't last very long; as soon as it was established, strongmen would immediately spring up to establish their fiefdoms. So there is a need for government to protect the people's rights. And one of the fundamental tools to do that is an army that can prevent outside agencies from imposing their rules on a society. A lot of people will protest that argument by noting that the people we are fighting in Iraq are unlikely to threaten the rights of the average American. That's certainly true; while our enemies would certainly like to wreak great levels of havoc on our society, the fact is they're not likely to succeed. But that doesn't mean there isn't still a need for an army (setting aside debates regarding whether ours is the right size at the moment). Americans are fortunate that we don't have to worry too much about people coming to try and overthrow us, but part of the reason we don't have to worry about that is because we have an army that is stopping anyone who would try.
Soldiers cannot have the option of opting out of missions because they don't agree with them: that violates the social contract. The duly-elected American government decided to go to war in Iraq. (Even if you maintain President Bush was not properly elected, Congress voted for war as well.) As a soldier, I have a duty to obey the orders of the President of the United States as long as they are Constitutional. I can no more opt out of missions I disagree with than I can ignore laws I think are improper. I do not consider it a violation of my individual rights to have gone to Iraq on orders because I raised my right hand and volunteered to join the army. Whether or not this mission was a good one, my participation in it was an affirmation of something I consider quite necessary to society. So if nothing else, I gave my life for a pretty important principle; I can (if you'll pardon the pun) live with that.
"It's all so brief, isn't it? A typical human lifespan is almost a hundred years. But it's barely a second compared to what's out there. It wouldn't be so bad if life didn't take so long to figure out. Seems you just start to get it right, and then...it's over."
Dr. Stephen Franklin, Babylon 5
I wish I could say I'd at least started to get it right. Although, in my defense, I think I batted a solid .250 or so. Not a superstar, but at least able to play in the big leagues. I'm afraid I can't really offer any deep secrets or wisdom. I lived my life better than some, worse than others, and I like to think that the world was a little better off for my having been here. Not very much, but then, few of us are destined to make more than a tiny dent in history's Green Monster. I would be lying if I didn't admit I would have liked to have done more, but it's a bit too late for that now, eh? The bottom line, for me, is that I think I can look back at my life and at least see a few areas where I may have made a tiny difference, and massive ego aside, that's probably not too bad.
"The flame also reminds us that life is precious. As each flame is unique; when it goes out, it's gone forever. There will never be another quite like it."
Ambassador Delenn, Babylon 5
I write this in part, admittedly, because I would like to think that there's at least a little something out there to remember me by. Granted, this site will eventually vanish, being ephemeral in a very real sense of the word, but at least for a time it can serve as a tiny record of my contributions to the world. But on a larger scale, for those who knew me well enough to be saddened by my death, especially for those who haven't known anyone else lost to this war, perhaps my death can serve as a small reminder of the costs of war. Regardless of the merits of this war, or of any war, I think that many of us in America have forgotten that war means death and suffering in wholesale lots. A decision that for most of us in America was academic, whether or not to go to war in Iraq, had very real consequences for hundreds of thousands of people. Yet I was as guilty as anyone of minimizing those very real consequences in lieu of a cold discussion of theoretical merits of war and peace. Now I'm facing some very real consequences of that decision; who says life doesn't have a sense of humor?
But for those who knew me and feel this pain, I think it's a good thing to realize that this pain has been felt by thousands and thousands (probably millions, actually) of other people all over the world. That is part of the cost of war, any war, no matter how justified. If everyone who feels this pain keeps that in mind the next time we have to decide whether or not war is a good idea, perhaps it will help us to make a more informed decision. Because it is pretty clear that the average American would not have supported the Iraq War had they known the costs going in. I am far too cynical to believe that any future debate over war will be any less vitriolic or emotional, but perhaps a few more people will realize just what those costs can be the next time.
This may be a contradiction of my above call to keep politics out of my death, but I hope not. Sometimes going to war is the right idea. I think we've drawn that line too far in the direction of war rather than peace, but I'm a soldier and I know that sometimes you have to fight if you're to hold onto what you hold dear. But in making that decision, I believe we understate the costs of war; when we make the decision to fight, we make the decision to kill, and that means lives and families destroyed. Mine now falls into that category; the next time the question of war or peace comes up, if you knew me at least you can understand a bit more just what it is you're deciding to do, and whether or not those costs are worth it.
"This is true love. You think this happens every day?"
Westley, The Princess Bride
"Good night, my love, the brightest star in my sky."
John Sheridan, Babylon 5
This is the hardest part. While I certainly have no desire to die, at this point I no longer have any worries. That is not true of the woman who made my life something to enjoy rather than something merely to survive. She put up with all of my faults, and they are myriad, she endured separations again and again...I cannot imagine being more fortunate in love than I have been with Amanda. Now she has to go on without me, and while a cynic might observe she's better off, I know that this is a terrible burden I have placed on her, and I would give almost anything if she would not have to bear it. It seems that is not an option. I cannot imagine anything more painful than that, and if there is an afterlife, this is a pain I'll bear forever.
I wasn't the greatest husband. I could have done so much more, a realization that, as it so often does, comes too late to matter. But I cherished every day I was married to Amanda. When everything else in my life seemed dark, she was always there to light the darkness. It is difficult to imagine my life being worth living without her having been in it. I hope and pray that she goes on without me and enjoys her life as much as she deserves. I can think of no one more deserving of happiness than her.
"I will see you again, in the place where no shadows fall."
Ambassador Delenn, Babylon 5
I don't know if there is an afterlife; I tend to doubt it, to be perfectly honest. But if there is any way possible, Amanda, then I will live up to Delenn's words, somehow, some way. I love you.
Did you know this was listed in the "What's being said in blogs" section of "Standpto!" http://www4.army.mil/news/standto.php?dte=2008-01-09
ReplyDeleteMAJ Olmsted's final entry was very moving. Just say the word (and give an address :-) ) and I'll print it out and send it to you. He would have wanted his words to be spread far and wide, I think. Linda
ReplyDeleteThey will be sorely missed.
ReplyDeleteI have posted about Major Andy Olmsted, but I did not know about your friend. I am sorry for Afghanistans and your loss. Have a safe day.
ReplyDelete