The -just ended- Afghanistan war was not my war; it ended up being my son’s war, though. It was worse worrying about him every day, than I ever remember worrying about myself.

He is home, permanently injured and retired- missing body parts. His best friend is buried in Maine; killed by an RPG while my son was fighting next to him. Their Combat Outpost endured over 35 RPG strikes per day, every day, for the entire year he was there.

When they got back one of the soldiers fell dead, from rabies- while standing at attention in morning formation. They found that many of them had rabies, after that. They were constantly gnawed on by rats at night, in the COP. Their unit- each deployed and deceased member- received the Valorous Unit Award- the equivalent of a Silver Star, for heroism in the action.

My son’s take on the withdrawal is that we (the US) should have pulled out of Afghanistan over a decade ago. I accept his evaluation of the matter, with no politics involved, just soldiers.