I remember September 11, 2001 clearly. Watching the attacks unfold on television while sitting in a classroom as a junior in high school, I immediately sensed the world had changed—but I didn’t know exactly how.

My oldest sister was already serving on active duty in the U.S. Navy, and less than two years later, she would be deployed on a guided-missile destroyer in the Persian Gulf to support Operation Iraqi Freedom. That same year, I was preparing to enter the Navy’s Reserve Officers’ Training Corps in college, a competitive four-year program to become an officer in the Marines.

Like most veterans, I didn’t sign my contract because I wanted conflict and war. I did it because our nation had been attacked, and I felt a patriotic calling. I had a notion that military service was my responsibility.

For people around my age who entered the armed forces during those years, the Global War on Terror (GWOT) was the defining chapter of our military service. We are the post-9/11 generation of troops. Along the way, training pipelines and deployments, units, promotions, and families were all shaped by the violent conflicts in the greater Middle East.

Just a few years after the teenaged version of myself watched the terrorist attacks on TV, I had become a Marine officer serving at the international military headquarters in Afghanistan. I went from watching the towers burn to serving in the country where the attacks were orchestrated.

I was hardly unique. Countless numbers of my peers went from classrooms to battlefields in a remarkably short time.

Over the years, the GWOT nearly broke the all-volunteer force. Brutal deployment cycles placed terrible strains on service members and their families, while the Bush administration’s “stop-loss” program prevented troops from exiting the service on time. 

Nearly 7,000 American service members were killed in the wars we fought in Iraq and Afghanistan. Over 50,000 were physically injured, in some cases catastrophically. And countless more suffered from less visible injuries, like horrific post-traumatic stress. Substance abuse, addiction, homelessness, and suicide have plagued this cohort of veterans. Post-9/11 veteran unemployment reached crisis levels (although we have seen some improvement in that area).

This not to suggest that these veterans should be reduced to victims. But we should be mindful that the consequences of war don’t disappear just because the headlines do.

I have no regrets whatsoever about my service; in fact, I’m proud of it beyond description. The men and women who volunteered after the attacks on our homeland did so with the best intentions. More importantly, they answered the call of duty, and performed honorably under the grimmest of circumstances. The difficult truth, however, is this: Military heroism and prudent policymaking are not the same thing. We aren’t required to believe that the decisions made by our leaders were wise or strategically competent—because they certainly were not.

The American public was given deeply misleading rationales for entering these conflicts, and the goalposts shifted constantly over two decades. 

The culminating event was the chaotic 2021 withdrawal from Afghanistan, which came after nearly two decades of costly fighting. It was deadly and humiliating for America. And for the veterans who served there, it was especially painful to watch the Taliban return to power and realize that the entire war had been fought only for things to go right back to where they were when we started.

A quarter-century on from that fateful day in 2001, our nation still hasn’t fully learned what we should have from our efforts to spread freedom and democracy around the world. We are mired in another conflict in the Middle East, with the potential for major consequences looming. Our objectives remain vague at best: Victory has yet to be clearly defined, and there is no discernible exit strategy.

We’re at risk of another generation of service members being bogged down in far-flung fights for nebulous, unattainable strategic goals.

On this 25th anniversary of that Tuesday morning in September 2001, we will remember the nearly 3,000 who were brutally murdered in New York, D.C., and Pennsylvania. We will honor those who volunteered to serve after the attacks. And we will pray for the families of those who never came home.

But our commemorations require more than bumper-sticker slogans. The most significant and meaningful thing we can do is to learn from our mistakes.

Subscribe Today

Get daily emails in your inbox

Email Address:

We must demand clear objectives before American service members are put in harm’s way, and we must insist on accountability from our president, Congress, and military leadership.  

Our nation’s best and brightest deserve better than another open-ended quagmire.

I am proud to have worn the cloth of my country, and it’s precisely because of my service that I want America to do better for the next generation.