Gary asked me to deliver a speech during a SEAL of Honor book event this May. Of course, I readily accepted. I never pass up an opportunity to praise our men and women in uniform, but I am Army not Navy, I am a paratrooper not a SEAL, and I had never had the privilege of meeting Michael Murphy.

So I had some work to do to get to know this man on my own terms before I could speak with the authenticity that I desired. I already knew that Lieutenant Murphy and I shared one significant thing in common, which was that we both fought the Taliban in the Korengal Valley.

When I was the Deputy Commanding General of the Combined/Joint Task Force in charge of all conventional U.S. troops in Afghanistan, I frequently circulated the battlefield. On January, 5 2007 I flew in my UH-60 Blackhawk with an Apache helicopter wingman from Bagram Air Base to Jalalabad then on to Asadabad, and finally into the Korengal Combat Outpost. The 10th Mountain Division had established this remote redoubt on the heavily trafficked trail from Pakistan into central Afghanistan, in the wake of Operation Red Wings in an effort to bring to heel the Taliban who were operating at will in the region, namely Qari Ismail, also known as Ahmad Shah.

It was a cold, clear day in the Afghan Hindu Kush Mountains when we came in for a hot landing. As the wheels touched down, PKM machine gun fire rang out from three different directions followed closely by rocket propelled grenades and mortars. We scattered from the aircraft and joined Captain Jim McKnight’s A Company, 1st Battalion, 32nd Infantry and dueled for ninety minutes with the Taliban who were attacking us from three sides.

This was the very same piece of ground where Navy SEALs Michael Murphy, Matthew Axelson, and Danny Dietz were killed, and from which Marcus Luttrell escaped, and where another 16 brave Task Force-160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment “Nightstalkers” and Navy SEALS were killed in the rescue attempt.

I know this terrain exceptionally well. I’ve fought the enemy on that ground. And of course I’ve known men such as Michael Murphy.

But I didn’t know Michael Murphy, the man.

My first step, then, was to read SEAL of Honor. It is a compelling read chock full of lessons learned for military and civilian alike. It is a tearjerker from the very beginning and Williams does an excellent job of capturing the duality of our everyday peaceful lives here in the United States and the exceptional heroism and harrowing tragedies that occur overseas. He does this by highlighting the daily rhythm of the families involved that remain relatively unchanged until the news seeping out of Afghanistan provides a clue that Michael Murphy might have been near the action. All of the key figures in the book had continued on their daily regimen, worried, certainly upset that warriors had been killed and wounded, but of course thinking it had to be someone else. Then, with the news that Michael was involved, the world stopped for his loving parents, fiancé, friends, peers, and extended family around the Long Island and the Naval Special Warfare communities.

SEAL of Honor works on many levels. First, it is an evenhanded account of a young man’s drive to become a Navy SEAL despite several other life path opportunities. Some men and women just want to serve their country and Michael Murphy was of that noble gene pool. Second, SEAL of Honor captures the agony of those on the home front as they pine for their loved ones in harm’s way and pray that the government vehicle doesn’t stop in front of their house and officers in full dress uniform don’t appear on their doorstep. Importantly, SEAL of Honor is also a trove of leadership lessons that future generations of service men and women can read, debate, and study as they formulate their own unique leadership styles.

Beyond reading SEAL of Honor, though, I felt I needed something more tactile in order to speak or write about Michael Murphy so I took a weekend and flew to Long Island MacArthur Airport, rented a car and early on a Saturday morning as the sun rose over Calverton National Cemetery, I was kneeling in front of Michael’s headstone. I admired the care with which his family secured important mementos such as coins from the Chief of Naval Operations, the White House Situation Room, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, one that read, “Courage,” and another that read, “Son.” I added three of my Deputy Commanding General coins from the 10th Mountain Division, one each for Murphy, Dietz, and Axelson. I found it fitting that Michael’s headstone was set apart and to the front of those of hundreds of other veterans, as if he was commanding a formation.

I was also comforted to find that Michael was in good company. Three headstones down from Michael’s was that of a renowned fellow 10th Mountain Division warrior, Staff Sergeant Anthony Lagman, who served as both a Marine and a Soldier and was killed in Afghanistan March 18, 2004. Forward Operating Base Lagman in Zabul Province remains a key to Coalition success in southeastern Afghanistan.

After a rather emotional morning at Calverton, I then drove to Patchogue-Medford High School, which was unlocked with lots of activities taking place. I walked into the foyer and saw a wall dedicated to Michael’s life and heroism. In a trophy case to the left of Michael’s wall were mementos of “famous graduates.” There were the track shoes of an Olympic athlete, a Grammy Award program from an R&B singer, and the baseball card of a professional baseball player. But Michael’s wall reigned supreme here and I thought the principal had it about right. Students every day walk into that school and see the photos of an American hero, an alumnus, who died for his country, dwarfing the significant, but distant accomplishments of the aforementioned graduates.

As I drove from his high school to the post office that now bore a memorial and his portrait, I noticed American flags flying everywhere and instantly knew that it was as much his family as it was his community that provided Michael his strong sense of patriotism and unwavering moral code that served him, and us, so well.

At the post office, I wrote a quick note to my daughter about to graduate from the University of Colorado, bought a Purple Heart stamp, and then mailed it from Patchogue United States Post Office, which has a beautiful memorial to Michael and his team that faces Main Street, Patchogue, NY, Michael’s hometown.

My final stop was Lake Ronkonkoma where Michael was a lifeguard. There, I saw a father and son reading the memorial, which paid tribute not only to Michael and his team, but also to the TF-160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment “Nightstalkers” and other SEALs that perished in the rescue operation. This being my final stop, I went for a run around a portion of the lake and through the adjacent neighborhoods, reflecting on what I learned about Michael Murphy.

First, as an author of thriller fiction I always study heroes, real life and fictional, and the best heroes are humble, selfless, hard working, and determined. Michael Murphy is a true American hero in the finest sense of the word.

Second, he leaves behind a legacy that will help educate and train young leaders in our country, making us a better nation. All who read his story will grow as citizens, understanding and hopefully emulating the honor and moral code by which he lived his life.

Lastly, his family and friends, and the Patchogue and Long Island communities have a lot to be proud of. They have honored Michael Murphy as he should be honored, with great dignity and enduring presence. When I returned from my trip, I related much of what I’ve written here to a friend and at the end of my story he said, “Sounds like a place I would want to raise my family.”

That’s about the highest praise any community could ask for and as I drifted through Long Island for one day on my Michael Murphy tour, I couldn’t agree more.

I recommend SEAL of Honor to all who hold freedom dear. Gary Williams captures the essence of our country, our hopes and dreams, our fears and misgivings, all in the compelling narrative of one young man’s desire to serve his country.

Mostly, though, I came away from Long Island reassured of our nation’s values. In an era of petty politics and shortsighted vision, in Michael Murphy we have a role model who reflected the values of his family and community and understood the debt that we all owe to those who came before us.

And now we owe Michael Murphy our everlasting appreciation for laying down his life in a remote corner of the world not too far from where the enemy first planned to fly airplanes as guided missiles into a city not too far from where Michael was raised.

And I owe Gary Williams a thank you for writing SEAL of Honor and extending to me the privilege of getting to know, in my own way, this remarkable young man. I served for 28 years in the Army and I never tire of learning the stories of great Americans.

You can count Michael Murphy as one of this nation’s best.

But Palin ain’t buying it by the barrel, she’s got a whole pipeline of pure grade indigo flowing from the North Slope as she pumps up the volume on her NY Times #1 bestselling memoir.

When I got about halfway through the book I set it down, stepped outside of my Washington, DC townhouse and went for a run around the U.S. Capitol. Listening to the Outlaws, Marshall Tucker Band, and Lil Bow Wow (my daughter slipped that one in there) on my iPod, the recurrent thought in my mind was that this woman is far more qualified to be president of the United States than the current occupant of the White House.

When I completed the journey that is Going Rogue, I wrote down five things:

–She is a positive role model for all Americans
–She is an executive, takes on hard problems and makes tough decisions
–She has tremendous energy, balance and intellect
–America shafted itself in this last election
–Alaska is lucky to have her

Oh, and a sixth, Sarah Palin could be the next president of the United States.

Her book washes away all doubts that any reader might have had about her readiness to be president. She comes across as exceptionally bright, dedicated, and passionate about public service. Her moral compass is strong, pointing true North in this case. And she has a wicked sense of humor.

The most salient take-away from Going Rogue for me was what I admired most in her campaign, which was that she had been in charge as either a mayor or a governor whereas none of the other candidates on either ticket had. Having been a commander several times in the military I know that there is a huge difference between being a hardworking and important staff officer and an ‘alone at the top’ commander. No matter how fancy the title, executive officer or Senator, at the end of the day, you are recommending to someone who actually makes the decision.

As a Governor, mayor or commander, you have the unparalleled responsibility to actually make decisions that have ramifications. There is little training that can prepare you for all those heads turning in your direction when it is decision time. You can’t blithely abstain on a vote or hide behind the guy in front of you, because you own the decision. Case in point is Obama’s inexcusable delay in making a decision on Afghanistan. His indecision, cloaked as ‘sleeves-rolled-up-pensiveness’, is an indicator that he was, at a minimum, unprepared to be commander in chief. What we see in his speech at West Point is a minimally slimmed down version of what General Stan McChrystal submitted to the president on August 30th. So now big Stan has nine months to do what he said it takes 12 months to accomplish.

Palin, on the other hand, demonstrates decisiveness and vulnerability. Is she prepared for the enormous breadth of responsibility of president? I think she’s ready for the hard part, which is making tough decisions. She’s no “Ruminator-in Chief”, that’s for sure, and if the American people think a second year back bench senator was ready to be president, I’m not sure we’ve got the right rubric out there.

Palin is real. She takes counsel of her fears and continuously comes back to her foundation of family, God, state and nation for reassurance and guidance. She has strong moral guideposts that she uses to navigate the shark infested political waters. Reading about the decisions Sarah Palin faced at multiple levels of government reminded me of something my command sergeant major in the 82nd Airborne Division used to say when we faced a tough decision together: “Sir, when you’re right, don’t worry about it.”

Palin is right on many issues such as energy policy, defense, business, and size of government. She gets it and my hope is that she firms up her base and then reaches out to moderates across this country. She has a gritty determination borne in the salmon hauls and caribou hunts that make her pioneer tough.

I am left wondering why the McCain campaign bottled her up and didn’t let the maverick, well, be a maverick. McCain made an unconventional pick and instead of hiring a Wall Street stockbroker to manage her I’m perplexed, and disappointed, that he didn’t let this one-woman campaign juggernaut do her thing. If she was accustomed to traveling all over Alaska campaigning essentially by herself or with her family by her side, surely she could have done without all of the layers of control. I believe that Sarah Palin is precisely what the American people are seeking: an honest, intelligent, passionate, practical conservative who is nonpartisan and a tough decision maker.

Oddly, as I read Going Rogue and learned the real story behind the mainstream media assault upon this patriot, I was briefly reminded of the first time I met Hillary Clinton. She was in her first year as New York’s junior senator and my impression of her was largely shaped by what I read in the newspapers or saw on television, meaning mostly negative. When she came into the Pentagon for a 45 minute briefing from my boss, I was one of four people in the room: the Vice Chief of Staff of the Army, Senator Clinton, her assistant Uma Abedin, and me.

Over the next 90 minutes, she not only ignored her schedule, but she demonstrated a keen intellect, undeniable sincerity, and genuine interest in the many complex topics discussed. I came away from that meeting with an entirely different viewpoint on Senator Clinton than had been painted for me in the media. I tucked away the lesson to always remember that there is a phalanx of reporters, journalists and hate mongers who are trying to tell us all what to think.

And so it was with Sarah Palin, someone I actually supported. I think Palin recognizes that the extreme members of both parties and media put each of them through the Mixmaster, in some part because they are women, and she extends an olive branch to Clinton for a chat over a cup of coffee.

No matter what your political leanings, you better believe that Sarah Palin will step forward when the time is right. She has spine and she is called to public service. She’s been bloodied in the faux battles of presidential politics and yet she’s still standing, making tough decisions. She seems to have an iron core spirit and a will to make our country better.

And like that pipeline of ink, she seems to have an indomitable will that when attacked, unfortunately for her opponents, she doesn’t break. Her resolve seems to strengthen.

As her father said, “Sarah’s not retreating; she’s reloading.”

We should hope so, because she’s precisely the kind of leader America needs.

As I watch Hollywood’s inexcusable defense of Roman Polanski and the White House’s indecision in Afghanistan, I’m wondering what I’ve missed. For example, if the President’s going to break a campaign promise, why would he pick one that will endanger not only the mission and the lives of so many great Americans in Afghanistan, but the security of our nation? At the same time, how come everyone knows Polanski’s name but you hear little mention of a tough guy named Sergeant First Class Jared Monti?

Sergeant First Class Jared Monti in Afghanistan

Is it possible we don’t have our priorities straight? For those that are interested, let me tell you about Jared Monti.

This spring Secretary of Defense Robert Gates made a routine visit to Fort Drum, NY, home of the 10th Mountain Division. During his circulation of the post, he chatted with several members of the rear detachment of the 3rd Brigade Combat Team whose headquarters and 4500 troops are presently serving south of Kabul, Afghanistan.

“Anything I can do for you?” the Secretary asked the commander of the rear element charged with keeping the communication flow to the families, processing replacements for shipment overseas, and managing the returning wounded.

“Just one thing,” the commander said and then went on to ask about Sergeant First Class Jared Monti’s Medal of Honor packet, seemingly lost in the abyss of the White House Military Office. Apparently Louis Caldera, the Director of the White House Military Office, was too busy approving Air Force requests to do aerial doughnuts over the Statue of Liberty and causing fire drills on the ground in Manhattan than to process Monti’s Medal of Honor nomination.

Gates, I’m told, got the packet unearthed and approved. Just a few weeks ago, Sergeant First Class Monti posthumously received his just reward for his incredibly brave actions on June 21 2006.

I remember that night over three years ago like it was yesterday. The 3rd Brigade, 10th Mountain Division commander, then-Colonel Mick Nicholson, had made the decision to push north up the Kunar Valley, through a town called Naray, into an area called Gowardesh. Jared Monti, the senior field artillery forward observer for 3d Squadron, 71st Cavalry, took his team of 18 men as the advance element to cover an air assault scheduled for the next day. His squadron commander, LTC Mike Howard, positioned 120mm heavy mortars and 105mm artillery tubes to cover their advance.

As a short digression, it was General Tommy Franks, CENTCOM Commander during the beginning phases of combat in Afghanistan, who had initially refused deployment of all artillery and Apache helicopters into Afghanistan, conducting personal line item vetoes of equipment deployment rosters. Soon after Franks quit a year early, General John Abizaid took command and authorized the deployment of whole combat teams into the region that could adequately fight as they were designed. It would be the mortars and artillery that saved Jared Monti’s team that night.

As the advance element inserted at night and quietly infiltrated up thousands of feet to their mountaintop observation post, they had positional advantage over major routes of ingress and egress from Pakistan and known Al Qaeda hideouts. The plan was for the rest of the squadron, some 400 strong, to air assault into position the following evening, less than 24 hours away.

The weather moved in, though, preventing large-scale air assault and, after 24 hours, Monti’s team began running low on water and chow as they had gone in light. A brave Blackhawk UH-60 and Apache AH-64 crew ignored the bad weather and delivered a resupply to Monti’s team on the cutting edge of freedom in the towering, 15,000-foot peaks of the Hindu Kush.

While Jared and his team received their much-needed supplies, the enemy also had cued on the resupply mission. Methodically, Al Qaeda began to move into position throughout the night as if they were chess pieces.

Pretty soon, it was checkmate. SFC Monti and his team were surrounded by as many as 70 hardened fighters. The cavalry wasn’t going to be able to make it in time and the prepositioned artillery and U.S. Air Force were the only friends who could help. Colonel Nicholson and LTC Howard, monitoring from the nearest forward operating bases, directed the artillery units and air force to support SFC Monti’s team as the main effort.

As the enemy initiated the ambush, young Private First Class Brian Bradbury was providing flank security. The opening salvo wounded Bradbury who was about 20 meters away from the core element, huddled in 360 degree fashion returning fire against the fast approaching enemy. SFC Monti’s training and values kicked into high gear. He called for multiple danger close missions either near or on his position. As his own artillery stymied the Al Qaeda advance, he raced out to rescue the stranded PFC Bradbury. Intense machine gun and rocket propelled grenade fire pushed him back as the enemy realized they had an American Soldier wounded in the open. SFC Monti returned three times to save the young PFC’s life.

Monti, though, was mortally wounded as he clawed forward to rescue Bradbury. As he lay dying, he uttered his final words. “I’ve made my peace with God. Tell my family I love them.”

Kind of makes the Polanski supporters look puny doesn’t it? Well, I guess, they are.

Further tragedy struck later that evening after the enemy had been denied through SFC Monti’s heroic actions. As the UH-60 medical evacuation aircraft hovered over the treacherous terrain, a brave medic named Staff Sergeant Heath Craig retrieved the first of two wounded using a cable hoist, commonly called a ‘jungle penetrator’ in the Vietnam War. After lifting the first casualty, Craig went back down for Bradbury.

As he ascended the second time with Bradbury, the hoist snapped as they neared the underbelly of the aircraft. Craig and Bradbury both perished as they fell onto the face of the rocks.

As far as ‘bad nights’ go, that was near the low point of the mission. Four great Americans, Sergeant First Class Jared Monti, Staff Sergeant Heath Craig, Sergeant Patrick Lybert, and Private First Class Brian Bradbury, were killed.

But the mission continued and the 3rd Brigade, 10th Mountain established the operating bases they had planned, thanks to Monti and his team, and began to significantly interdict the flow of enemy fighters and means of war.

Today, many of us who served in the 10th Mountain Division carry the spirit of those four brave men forward. Brigadier General John “Mick” Nicholson, then Monti’s brigade commander, told me today, “Jared Monti personified all that is best about the young men and women fighting for our nation: selfless, humble, competent, phenomenal leader, and universally respected. He loved his comrades so much that he laid down his life for them, a role model for us all.”

Monti’s Medal of Honor is yet another stark contrast to Hollywood’s duplicity as Whoopi Goldberg and her ilk lobby for Polanski’s release, while simultaneously this administration is suddenly more concerned with showing General McChrystal “Who’s the boss,” as opposed to making a timely, sound decision in Afghanistan.

For the sake of men such as Monti, Bradbury, Craig, and Lybert, we all need to do a mirror check and understand what has gone before us. These men got into the Al Qaeda wheelhouse and disrupted the enemy, paving the way for U.S. presence in enemy territory. They were the first behind enemy lines. They were brave, moral men who served a purpose larger than themselves.

Their sacrifice is symbolic of this war: a few Soldiers, alone and unafraid, on the cutting edge of freedom, against overwhelming odds.

Many on the West Coast and in Washington, DC would be well advised to reflect on the lives of SFC Monti and his teammates.

Such reflection may even convince some folks to make a timely decision.

Accurate mortar fire lands on Taliban positions thanks to SSG Vile’s Mortar Ballistic Computer Skills

One of the many personal emails I received was from Staff Sergeant William Vile’s former battalion commander. Then-Sergeant Vile is the hero in my first Boots on the Ground Report and I purposely kept his name out of the piece because I remember how embarrassed he was by all of the attention he received from my team and me as we medically evacuated him from the Korengal Outpost to Bagram Airfield Combat Surgical Hospital.

Rocket propelled grenade ‘duds’ into a Hesco barrier at the Korengal Outpost during 5 January attack 

I received the former commander’s email on Wednesday this week. I was in a business meeting when my Blackberry buzzed indicating I had a new message. Noticing the sender and the topic, I scanned the email and the words: 

Sir,

I read your article on-line today about fighting in the Korengal.  I’m sorry to add a poignant piece of news to it:  SSG William E. Vile was killed in action in Kunar Province on 4 May [2009].  He was back as an [Embedded Transition Team member] assigned with 6-4 Cav up near Naray [along the Pakistan border].  His [Afghan National Army combat outpost] was overrun, and SSG Vile was [Duty Status Whereabouts Unknown] for three days.  [The battalion Command Sergeant Major] proudly reported to me that soldiers of 1-32 were called upon to locate and recover SSG Vile’s remains, and that they carried him back to Bagram for his last flight home.

Sir, in the article you mentioned that Vile’s heroics didn’t stop at the end of the fight, that he returned to his unit.  His heroics didn’t stop then, either, I guess. 

SSG Vile will be buried on Thursday in Arlington National Cemetery.  As you might imagine, several alumni of the unit will attend. 

A chill shot up my spine for two reasons. First, of course, this is a man, half my age, that I truly held in the highest esteem. The news of his death in combat struck me to the core. I’m affected by every service member’s death as I’ve officiated over several funerals of Soldiers killed in combat, some who were friends, some who were assigned to me by the Army. It was a privilege in every case and each service required about two days to fully process and emotionally recover from as I engaged grieving family members and friends, presented the flag to the next of kin and personally mourned the loss of a great American. 

But having watched this man in action I had selfishly held out the notion that I had a hero I could call my own and could one day point to him as the Sergeant Major of the Army or some other influential position worthy of his abilities and sacrifice. Indeed, he had already been rapidly promoted to Staff Sergeant as a young man. 

So as the contents of the email registered, I stood, walked out of the room and took about five minutes to myself. I don’t know what the others in the room thought, and I truly didn’t care. 

And that’s when it hit me: 4 May 2009 was the day Andrew Breitbart and I exchanged emails about my joining the Big Hollywood team. After that email exchange, I wrote the article that day, of course oblivious to SSG Vile’s plight in Kunar Province. 

Indeed, as I was writing that first Boots on the Ground report, Staff Sergeant Vile’s new place of duty as an advisor to the Afghan Army in Kunar Province was in mortal combat with Taliban forces. 

The brave men of 1-32nd Infantry, Chosin, from the 10th Mountain Division, SSG Vile’s old unit in which he was serving when he conducted the heroic deeds reported in the last column, heard the news, geared up and buzzed through the Asadabad Valley to find their missing hero. While SSG Vile was not assigned to his old unit on this mission, the Soldiers were living by the Army Warrior Ethos:

Never leave a fallen comrade behind. 

It was purely a coincidence that 1-32 was back in the action in Afghanistan, just as it was purely coincidence that I wrote that blog column on the exact day he went missing. 

Right. 

No matter what you believe, no matter what your personal moral guideposts may be, don’t think for a second that this isn’t the Big Guy upstairs at work. I don’t believe in coincidences and, in retrospect, I do believe that God spoke to me on 4 May. I essentially wrote that piece in one sitting without stopping and only going back to do some minor edits. It’s almost as if I was called to write his story before knowing he was killed in action. Perhaps to capture the purity of the event without being clouded by the tumbling emotions that I’m feeling now. 

When I return to Washington, DC I intend to visit SSG Vile’s gravesite and pay my respects to a man who had at least three purple hearts and served at least three combat tours in the last six years. He did so with a humble heart, just wanting to do his piece and take care of his buddies, perhaps advancing American foreign policy a bit as he served. 

While there’s no nexus between pop culture, Hollywood and the military here, I thought it proper to update those of you who read the first column. 

Make no mistake about it, SSG William Vile remains a personal hero to me and it was my privilege to write his story. 

And my departing thought today is that SSG Vile has rightfully ascended to a place where the full measure of his sacrifice is properly rewarded. I pray that he has found the everlasting peace he was trying so hard to accomplish, on our behalf, in this world. 

Stay safe,
AJT

 
Pinning on then-Sergeant William Vile’s Purple Heart (2nd Award) in Bagram, Afghanistan a few minutes before his flight to Landstuhl and Walter Reed

Their big message: military films aren’t working. The country is weary and doesn’t want war films as entertainment. Rather, they say, the good citizens of our nation want to escape with the fictional heroes in movies such as “Transformers,” “X-Men,” and “Spider-Man.” 

Military movies may not be working because Hollywood presently refuses to capitalize on the real life heroes in combat everyday. Everyone loves a good hero and for Hollywood to embrace the notion that there might be a valorous man or woman worthy of a feature film may lend creditability to the cause for which they are fighting. And we can’t have that. 

Instead, their latest war films are partisan propaganda as opposed to realistic and balanced. Somewhere between the screenplay and the final edit group therapy takes place and movie houses release message films as opposed to realistic action movies. 

Take for example Lions for Lambs and Redacted. 

In Lions for Lambs, two students, the ‘Lambs,’ follow the guidance of a professor to make a difference in the world so they enlist in the Army, only to be left stranded by their chain of command on an Afghan mountaintop as the Taliban execute them. The message? Don’t be a fool and enlist. You will be abandoned. The movie is noticeably absent any true hero as Tom Cruise, Robert Redford and Meryl Streep all pontificate through a collective diatribe. The failing here is that millions of servicemen and women have fought in these wars and their families know that they are true heroes. So a movie that paints their loved ones as misguided sheep rings hollow. 

Redacted is worse and more blunt. It sensationalizes a violent criminal act by a small group of Soldiers. Why did De Palma choose the rape and murder of an Iraqi girl as the focus of his movie, using the tagline, “Truth is the First Casualty of War?” It was a heinous, violent crime, but in no way does De Palma’s movie capture the essence of these wars or the spirit of the American fighting men and women. Again, no heroes, only villains, who happen to be American service personnel. 

It seems to me that the invasion of Iraq has been a watershed. Instead of gems such as Blackhawk Down, We Were Soldiers, Saving Private Ryan and Band of Brothers, post-Iraq we get political pitch pieces. Hollywood is venting its displeasure with the previous administration’s foreign policy through its films. Yet moviegoers are not so easily fooled and pan the movies that portray the military as bloodthirsty goons or ill-informed morons. 

If really is that simple, and Tyler’s lyrics have it right. We are holding out for a hero-the right kind of hero. We need Hollywood to capture the heroism of our troops. The American people know that their sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, and fathers and mothers are carrying this nation’s rucksack superbly in combat. And everyday there are heroes fighting to deny our enemies the ability to attack our homeland. 

One short example takes me back to January 2007 where a young sergeant displayed the everyday valor of American fighting personnel. 

Tyler’s lyrics were the furthest thing from my mind as my UH-60 Blackhawk’s composite rotor blades cut through the thin air of the Afghan Hindu Kush Mountains. 

“Blackhawk Down”

For two weeks I had been trying to fly from Bagram Air Base, where the joint task force is headquartered, to a remote operating base near the Pakistan border called the Korengal Outpost. My team had been collecting ‘To Any Soldier” letters and boxes for weeks and the holidays were upon us. However, a sudden snowstorm prevented our movement on Christmas Eve and then again on New Year’s Eve. 

But January 5th was a crystal clear day, the winter sun low and bright in the blue sky, perfect for flying…and fighting. So we loaded the Blackhawk and departed early in the morning with the intent of circulating to several small outposts, checking on morale, and ensuring the troops had the equipment they needed, a routine part of senior leader battlefield movement in the 10th Mountain Division. 

As we approached Asadabad Base where we would refuel, the radio crackled with the excited chatter of troops in contact just one valley over. They needed air support quickly. I directed my Apache helicopter escort to provide that support and for my Blackhawk to provide cover as his wingman. After emptying all of their ammunition twice in support of the troops in contact, the aircraft returned, picked up my team and we cruised the remaining 15 minutes to the Korengal Oupost where I would link up with Captain Jim McKnight’s rifle company. 

As we approached for landing, PKM machine gun fire echoed from two or three directions. Jim McKnight was there to greet me as we disembarked, but it was clear that he had other priorities. Soon machinegun fire and rocket propelled grenades were raining down upon our exposed position. The Blackhawk alone took 8 rounds in its cargo door, where we had just been sitting, and the left engine caught on fire. The pilots powered up with the right engine, leaving their crew chief on the ground and yanking his communications cord from his crew helmet. 

As rocket propelled grenades begin to crisscross through the outpost like Roman candles, I told Captain McKnight, “Forget about me, go command your company.” Happy to be unburdened from the task of managing a general in his outpost, he got to work. Meanwhile, we hunkered down and returned fire. As we moved toward the command bunker, I caught out of the corner of my eye a Soldier running down to the command post. This Soldier was shot through his left arm, tying off his tourniquet with his teeth. 

As he wheeled into the bunker, he hooked a radio handset into his helmet strap with his good hand while his wounded arm was bleeding badly. Soon, it was apparent he was going into shock and that his arm was seriously damaged. He began convulsing and a medic approached him, saying, “I need to take a look at that.” 

“Get away from me,” the Sergeant said, bluntly, as he punched numbers into his mortar ballistic computer. The biggest weapon at this firebase was a 120mm mortar that, with the right calculus, could destroy the attackers in quick fashion. This sergeant’s mission was to perform that calculus with the aid of a ballistic computer and then relay the information to the gun crew. Conversely, if he got the math wrong, a misguided round could kill friendly troops or civilians. 

He had an important mission. 

As the sergeant began to shake from the onset of shock, the medic approached again, and a second time the sergeant refused medical care, this time employing an expletive to keep the intruder at bay. 

As enemy machine gun rounds punched through the plywood roof of the bunker and fell to the floor like a Colorado summertime hail storm, the medic approached a third time. Looking up from his ballistic computer the sergeant said, “You can work on me when we get first round down range.” 

That was his compromise, which of course was no compromise at all. This Soldier was going to perform his most vital mission until the last drop of his blood fell into the gathering pool at his feet. 

Finally, a few minutes later the mortar launched the first round, which was impressively accurate. Soon, the mortar crew was melting the tubes, pumping out high explosive, fin stabilized and deadly accurate rounds onto the enemy. 

His mission done, the sergeant pushed the ballistic computer across the table to his assistant, handed him the radio, turned to the medic, and said, “Now you can work on me.” 

While it’s not Paul Blart, Mall Cop, there is a good message for Americans in the young Sergeant’s sacrifice. His actions were truly heroic. And the amazing part of this Sergeant’s valor is what came next. 

I was privileged to pin on his Purple Heart (2nd Award), the following day in Bagram after we medically evacuated him out of the Korengal Outpost. The sergeant then was evacuated to Landstuhl, Germany and then finally to Walter Reed Army Medical Center where he spent two months getting reconstructive surgery and healing from the gunshot wound. 

In the interim, the Secretary of Defense extended by 5 months his brigade combat team’s deployment in Afghanistan, making that brigade’s cumulative time deployed 17 months. As soon as this sergeant was released from Walter Reed Army Medical Center he had every right to go on convalescent leave and chill out. He’d earned that after 11 months of combat and a serious battle wound. 

Everyone but perhaps Hollywood knows how this story ends. Our hero scoffed at the notion of taking time off while his buddies were in the thick of it in Afghanistan. 

Of course, he was on the next airplane smoking to Bagram. 

So, we don’t need to hold out for our heroes. They’re there, right in front of us everyday. 

They are holding out for Hollywood’s enormous resources and talent to capture the right heroes doing the right things at the right time. And that’s a timeless story. It’s Hoosiers on the battlefield. Good men and women with solid values placed in difficult circumstances and producing unbelievable results. 

On our behalf. 

Message to Hollywood: Get to work. If you remove the political lens so that you can see the American heroes fighting the good fight, your only issue will be too many good screenplays and packed movie theaters. 

Believe it or not, the America I know is very proud of its men and women in uniform.