Rudyard Kipling"
āWhen you're left wounded on Afganistan's plains and
the women come out to cut up what remains, Just roll to your rifle
and blow out your brains,
And go to your God like a soldierā
General Douglas MacArthur"
āWe are not retreating. We are advancing in another direction.ā
āIt is fatal to enter any war without the will to win it.ā āOld soldiers never die; they just fade away.
āThe soldier, above all other people, prays for peace, for he must suffer and be the deepest wounds and scars of war.ā
āMay God have mercy upon my enemies, because I won't .ā āThe object of war is not to die for your country but to make the other bastard die for his.
āNobody ever defended, there is only attack and attack and attack some more.
āIt is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived.
The Soldier stood and faced God
Which must always come to pass
He hoped his shoes were shining
Just as bright as his brass
"Step forward you Soldier,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My Church have you been true?"
"No, Lord, I guess I ain't
Because those of us who carry guns
Can't always be a saint."
I've had to work on Sundays
And at times my talk was tough,
And sometimes I've been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.
But, I never took a penny
That wasn't mine to keep.
Though I worked a lot of overtime
When the bills got just too steep,
The Soldier squared his shoulders and said
And I never passed a cry for help
Though at times I shook with fear,
And sometimes, God forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around
Except to calm their fears.
If you've a place for me here,
Lord, It needn't be so grand,
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't, I'll understand."
There was silence all around the throne
Where the saints had often trod
As the Soldier waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.
"Step forward now, you Soldier,
You've borne your burden well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell."
Shortly before last Novemberās election I
took part in a Fox News documentary on Benghazi, whose other
participants included the former governor of New Hampshire John Sununu.
Making chit-chat while the camera crew were setting up, Governor Sununu
said to me that in his view Benghazi mattered because it was āa question
of character.ā Thatās correct. On a question of foreign policy or
counterterrorism strategy, men of good faith can make the wrong
decisions. But a failure of character corrodes the integrity of the
state.
Thatās why career diplomat Gregory Hicksās testimony was so
damning ā not so much for the new facts as for what those facts
revealed about the leaders of this republic. In this space in January, I
noted that Hillary Clinton had denied ever seeing Ambassador Stevensās
warnings about deteriorating security in Libya on the grounds that ā1.43
million cables come to my officeā ā and she canāt be expected to see
all of them, or any. Once Ambassador Stevens was in his flag-draped
coffin listening to her eulogy for him at Andrews Air Force Base, he was
her bestest friend in the world ā it was all āChris thisā and āChris
that,ā as if theyād known each other since third grade. But up till that
point he was just one of 1.43 million close personal friends of Hillary
trying in vain to get her ear. Now we know that at 8 p.m.
Eastern time on the last night of Stevensās life, his deputy in Libya
spoke to Secretary Clinton and informed her of the attack in Benghazi
and the fact that the ambassador was now missing. An hour later, Gregory
Hicks received a call from the thenāLibyan prime minister, Abdurrahim
el-Keib, informing him that Stevens was dead. Hicks immediately called
Washington. It was 9 p.m. Eastern time, or 3 a.m. in Libya. Remember the Clinton presidential teamās most famous campaign ad? About how Hillary would be ready to take that 3 a.m.
call? Four years later, the phone rings, and Secretary Clintonās not
there. She doesnāt call Hicks back that evening. Or the following day.
Are
murdered ambassadors like those 1.43 million cables she doesnāt read?
Just too many of them to keep track of? No. Only six had been killed in
the history of the republic ā seven, if you include Arnold Raphel, who
perished in General Ziaās somewhat mysterious plane crash in Pakistan in
1988. Before that you have to go back to Adolph Dubs, who died during a
kidnapping attempt in Kabul in 1979. So we have here a
once-in-a-third-of-a-century event. And at 3 a.m.
Libyan time on September 12 itās still unfolding, with its outcome
unclear. Hicks is now Americaās head man in the country, and the cabinet
secretary to whom he reports says, āLeave a message after the tone and
Iāll get back to you before the end of the week.ā Just to underline the
difference here: Libyaās head of government calls Hicks, but nobody who
matters in his own government can be bothered to.
What was
Secretary Clinton doing that was more important? What was the president
doing? Aside, that is, from resting up for his big Vegas campaign event.
A real government would be scrambling furiously to see what it could do
to rescue its people. Itās easy, afterwards, to say that nothing would
have made any difference. But, at the time Deputy Chief Hicks was
calling 9-1-1 and getting executive-branch voicemail, nobody in
Washington knew how long it would last. A terrorist attack isnāt like a
soccer game, over in 90 minutes. If it is a sport, itās more like a
tennis match: Whether itās all over in three sets or goes to five
depends on how hard the other guy pushes back.
The government of the
United States took the extremely strange decision to lose in straight
sets. Not only did they not deploy out-of-area assets, they ordered even
those in Libya to stand down. Lieutenant Colonel Gibson had a small
team in Tripoli that twice readied to go to Benghazi to assist and twice
was denied authority to do so, the latter when they were already at the
airport. There werenāt many of them, not compared to the estimated 150
men assailing the compound. But they were special forces, not bozo
jihadists. Back in Benghazi, Tyrone Woods and Glen Doherty held off
numerically superior forces for hours before dying on a rooftop waiting
for back-up from a government that had switched the answering machine on
and gone to Vegas. Pages 1 2 Next āŗ National Review
