Departing Afghanistan

[wvfarrier]

“Departing Afghanistan”

A Poem for Memorial Day

By Admiral William H. McRaven

Bill McRaven is, as you will know, the former Navy SEAL officer, 4-star admiral, commander of both SOCOM and JSOC (and first SEAL to command either), who did an early turn at Team Six but was sacked by “Demo” Dick Marcinko for not being on board with the cowboy culture there, and finally capped an extraordinary career by organizing and overseeing Operation Neptune's Spear, the raid that got bin Laden.

The Hindu Kush will be quiet now,
silence will come to the ancient lands.
The roar of the planes
will fade in the night
as we depart Afghanistan.

The scholars will chide us
and the pundits will pan,
why did we stay so long
when we should have been gone—
gone from Afghanistan.

But the fight was a good one,
noble and right,
no matter how long it took.
Not a soul has been lost on American soil,
not a single building shook.

For 20 years our people were safe,
living their lives in peace,
raising their families across the land,
because our soldiers fought—
fought in Afghanistan.

It was a tragic waste, some will say,
the loss of so many men.
The rows and rows of headstones
on the graves at Arlington.

But a noble life is never a loss,
no matter where they may fall.
To the soldier who did their duty,
they’re a hero forever, for all.

Make no mistake about it,
we came for a righteous cause.
We fought with courage and conviction.
We fought for the betterment of all.

And for those who cheer our final days,
be careful about what you wish.
For the fate of the Afghan people
is unlikely to be filled with bliss.

The children will weep as their future fades
and old women will cry to their men.
“They weren’t so bad,”
the elders will say,
as we depart Afghanistan.

We pray for the people of Afghanistan,
they are warm and kindly souls.
We pray that their future
will be filled with success
as the days and years unfold.

I hope those we saved will remember us,
and the innocents we harmed will forgive.
But to those who bore arms against us,
may you regret each day that you live.

The winds will howl through the vacant FOBs,
through the plywood and houses of tin.
The tarmacs will rot
in the noonday sun
as we depart Afghanistan.

Some will say it was right.
Some will say it was wrong.
Let the history books decide.
But every soldier did their best,
of that, no one can deny.

We ache for those warriors we lost
and the loved ones who bear the pain.
If only we could have saved them all,
and brought them home again.

The Hindu Kush will be quiet now
and silence will come to the ancient lands.
For those who served
let there be no regrets
as we depart Afghanistan.

[Paladin]

Thanks. for that.

[jeepnik]

Sending that to my kids.

They left for Iraq as enthusiastic young Marines. They returned old men.

Twice more they went. They aged in mind, body and soul every time. But they were blessed to age.

I have a photo of my youngests squad mates on the first trip to Iraq. Three of them won’t ever age.

[AJMD429]

Sending that to my kids.

They left for Iraq as enthusiastic young Marines. They returned old men.

Twice more they went. They aged in mind, body and soul every time. But they were blessed to age.

I have a photo of my youngests squad mates on the first trip to Iraq. Three of them won’t ever age.

That sums up the essence of war very well.

[gamekeeper]

A good poem, reminds me a bit of Rudyard Kipling's style.

[Ysabel Kid]

Agreed. Both counts.