GREAT MOMENTS & ENSUING MEMORIALS

“You have devoted your entire life, General, to the fighting of war. And this situation in Afghanistan, for you, is the culmination of all your years in training, all your years of ambition. This is the great moment in your life.” —War Machine

The most important part of this movie for me was Brad Pitt’s GEN McMahon (stylized after Michael Hastings’ profile of GEN McCrystal in “The Operators”) entering the Neue Wache. Converted into a war memorial in 1931, Pitt’s character enters the room alone. As he salutes the K?the Kollwitz statue “Mother With Her Dead Son”, there’s a pain on his character’s face that’s unmatched. Solemn, sad, sorrowful.

When I joined the military 20 years ago, I had no idea what a great moment in my life could be. I still don't know. And now with only four years left in the uniform, it all feels like a dream. As if it almost never happened. The patrols, the long flights, being at the other end of the world. The partners in arms, the boardings, the sea stories.

That feeling that comes to me this Memorial Day.

Those who have passed on, in the service of America, that was their great moment. There are more military members who died in World War I than serving today. The world is much safer. Those innumerable sacrifices were not in vain.

Let us not forget them.

Let us also not forget humanity always balances war, peace, and revolution precariously. Combat is an experience unmistakable in any other way, in any other form. We are fortunate so few can come to the defense of so many. Never before has the price of combat been so fair in the perpetuity of calm.

Let us hope we can continue this path.

Every one of us serving in the military comes to grips with this question of purpose. Is it worth it? Regardless of the politics, we each must rail against that very question. I met a Ph.D. psychologist yesterday commissioning into the Navy, his mission to bring mental health support to the front line. He sat at the bar, reading Grossman’s “On Killing”, resolved for his challenge.

War is a brutal art. Humanity at our most primal, least diplomatic moments. There’s nothing you can take away from the bonds formed, actions taken, lives saved, lives lost. There’s nothing that you can hold back when the iron dice are thrown.

That’s the same pain in McMahon’s face. The service he delivered and gave, constrained by influences he could never control. His passion and penance are the same Eisenhower must have felt at Normandy. Or Grant at Vicksburg. Those who brush near the greatness of their task remind me of my own place, and I’m humbled to be where that is.

More have died in the last 100 years than will serve in the next 100

The silent and sounding acknowledgments. The still and surging feelings. The strong and sure sacrifices.

Whether we are ready for them or not—these are great moments. Because these are the moments that can never be unmade. These are the moments that make millions still unseen. And those who made these moments possible, are serenity’s reprieve.