"I'm Disappointed"

Words of My Veteran Father

“I’m disappointed.”

Those were my father’s words in the wake of seeing the American withdrawal from Afghanistan. He had spent considerable lengths of time there, both during the early parts of the war and also in the troop surge under the Obama administration. There was something more to his words: vitriol, exasperation, emotions that you do not see from most men who have seen war up close or have been in the military for decades.

Yet I could not help but find myself realizing that his entire military career had been spent in the desert sands of faraway places — many, I imagine, that most Americans could not point to on a map with any accuracy. From Desert Storm until the end of Trump’s term, my father’s entire military career was dictated by America’s adventurism and foreign policy in the Middle East.

As a child, I witnessed the aftermath of September 11th, 2001. Little did I know that what was supposed to be a triumphant new age in the new millennium would be shocked not only with terrorism, but also with wars in foreign lands and the accompanying heavy toll at home and abroad. The idea of a peaceful American way of life, as epitomized by my parents’ early adulthood at the end of the Cold War, vanished. I watched in real time the change in what it meant to be perceived by others as an American, from the scornful looks from German neighbors to the English rolling their eyes over a misuse of colloquialisms.

At the same time, I still believed that our present political trajectory was right — not only in a moral sense, but also because what we were doing around the world seemed beneficial to America and her people. But like everything in childhood, that delusion had to end. I had to grow up. I had to look at my surroundings and see what was happening in real time.

For many this month, November 11th — known to many as Remembrance Day, Armistice Day, or Veterans Day — came and went. Here in the United States, the words “I’m disappointed” from my father say more than any piece I could write in this publication. So many have asked, with an air of disappointment, “What did I fight for?”

In 2021, researchers at the Watson Institute of International and Public Affairs found that 30,177 active duty personnel and veterans who served after 9/11 have died by suicide. The American government and, more importantly, the American people learn the lessons of the last war just in time for the next one. During the Vietnam War, we treated the young men who served with disdain and ostracism — volunteers and conscripts alike. By the time of the Global War on Terror, we had learned our lesson. We waved the flag, put on the yellow ribbon, and made sure that our veterans were treated right — never mind the lines at the VA or at the shrink.

Recalling his reaction to last year’s hasty American withdrawal from Afghanistan, I consider myself blessed never to have heard the words “I’m disappointed” directed in such a way at me by my father. There’s a lot to be disappointed about regarding the withdrawal, and I don’t blame him one bit for feeling the way that he did. However, there is a lesson to be learned from this disappointment, one which calls for a foreign policy of restraint, better care for those who have served, and an evaluation of how we care for our own here at home, both civilian and veteran.

Consider those around you — whether those who served or those who have lost loved ones to war or to suicide — and reach out. We all have veterans in our lives. The last thing we want to do is to sit idly by, disappointing them one last time and ignoring their calls for help.