I just walked out of the living room, after watching a special TV broadcast of the arrival of the thirteen young warriors who lost their lives to a suicide bomber in Kabul, Afghanistan. President Biden, First Lady Biden and a host of other older dignitaries were there to great the remains of these willing sacrifices, as their caskets were rolled off the aircraft that brought them to Dover Airforce Base.
The broadcast was just another special news report until pictures of the thirteen were shown on my TV screen. The oldest was only thirty-one years of age with the lowest end of the range ending at twenty. Understandably, the images showed no wrinkles, no gray hair, no outward signs of bountiful wisdom that oftentimes come with age. These weren’t seasoned warriors who had been hardened like iron against iron. Even so, as the reporter shared some biographical information about them, there was a common theme that applied to all: They were anxious to serve their country.
Many will reflect on this atrocity and ask themselves why. I wish I could come up with an answer to that question other than that they answered the call to serve, but maybe that’s answer enough. I still can’t excise the feeling from my gut that this is the senselessness of war: We invest our most valuable resource somewhere over there, rather than in the future that’s closer to home. The world is a complicated place. I realize that and my wonderings are limited in their ability to comprehend it all.
Thanks for your service, young ones.
I’m old and blessed…hope you will be too.