Veterans Day

Chief Warrant Officer Mallow, 1968

I feel an aching sadness for General Petraeus, Ms Petraeus, their children and for Ms Broadwell and her family, tonight, the eve of Veteran’s Day.  There will be plenty written and said about moral failure and self-destruction and disappointment.  Much of what has been  and will be said is fair and true. The bewilderment is understandable.

It is also true that I know only too well that war costs and some of the wounds from combat are almost invisible and don’t ever heal.  On more than one occasion, I have woken up to see my spouse surge from the bed and nearly fly to the other end of the room.  A dream, a single sound, keys off an old warrior instinct honed on too many dark nights in Vietnam, and he is back in combat mode, ready to take that helicopter of his back up into the air.   The ways of the heart, and mind and spirit are unfathomable even in the best of circumstances.  You don’t just walk away from war and shake off the dust.

Tomorrow is Veterans Day.  We do well to remember that war costs.  It costs a lot.

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