We remember the Alamo in each of our wars

" I know I’m on my way out” was the way my Dad spoke of dying the last week of his life. The people who lived through World War II had a kind of stoicism about death that carried them through to the end. The last week of his life, he would reminisce back on some of the days he spent in England during the war.. He even remembered the names of the girls he dated!  He always had stories to tell from the mighty Eighth Air Force. The stories they wanted to compile that would leave a record of what they did...what they accomplished and what they left behind...

I went with my Dad to his last reunion with the mighty Eighth. Ironically enough, it was held in San Antonio complete with a visit to the Alamo. As with the fall of the Roman Empire, nothing lasts forever. They knew that. But there was a kind of sad but bittersweet connection with the Alamo....those who died for a glorious lost cause. Remember the Alamo...

In the latest war...we see the talking faces on TV and those who speak of the failure of the war in Afghanistan. There is a lack of imagination, a failure of imagination for those who forgot to imagine the evil that was wrought on 9/11. And from that, a million dreams were snuffed out for those who died and fought and gave their lives for a noble and glorious cause.

The talk of failure seems to be a false conclusion. There was failure in past wars, but not in the spirits and hearts of the men and women who served. The failure often lies in a premise or a notion or an idea that does not come to pass. If there is any talk of failure, it should be in the failure of imagination to see the future and the possibilities that can exist and those that cannot.

 There is no glamour in dying in war. But there is no shame in dying for your country. Those who gave their lives were no less warriors and no less respected than those who did die in WW II. It was a different place, a different time, but the same military might and kooky vain-glorious, top-down way of managing the affairs of state in which the powers that be will reckon and gamble the futures of hundreds of thousands of young people. They will use them as pawns in a board game.

 There is a kind of code for the service men and women who go to war. They leave no one behind on the battlefield. It is a code of honor. No less so should be the ideas that we leave no one behind in our own battles that extend outwards in American life. If there is honor among the military, so should there be honor for those who work in government and in other fields of service for their country. That has not existed or has been extended much closer than the water’s edge. Rather it has not existed in the nearest corners as the people who stormed the Capitol gave proof.

 They did prove on January 6th that the flag is still there. There is still hope and honor and a future of possibilities. But the idea of failure is one that needs to be snuffed out.  We need to bury that notion on a field far away from that of the honorable men and women who served and died for a cause greater than themselves.