A True Hero Marches On

Link: Col. David H. Hackworth Passes Over

One of my heroes passed over on Thursday. I don't have many heroes, but certainly The Hack was one for me. Even though I am a peace warrior commited to nonviolence these few days (42 and a wake-up) left in Sri Lanka, as a former Army officer he is the ideal of what anyone who took the oath of office to be commissioned by act of Congress would ever want to be. He was tough, intelligent, a hard fighter and drinker, a small man larger than any life, and most important he spoke the truth, always standing up for the best for his men, even if it meant great personal sacrifice for himself.

As the youngest full bird Colonel ever in the U.S. Army, he was on a fast-track to become the youngest Chief of Staff in our nation's relatively short history, but instead of pandering to the politicos, both in uniform and civilian life, he spoke the truth on national television in 1971 about the futility of the war in Vietnam. His adversaries, the fawning "Perfumed Princes" hastily drummed him out of service, and even today those much less than him block him getting the Medal of Honor, the only major award for heroism he has not received, even though he was put in for it three times. For the past twenty years he has dedicated his life to keeping the toes of the draconian slouching beast of the Pentagon held close to the fire to be more accountable for protecting it's most precious resource, the men and women in the ranks, instead of investing in more technological starwar toys, which mostly profit the civillian companies who dream them up instead of protecting the fighting men and women on the ground. He shall be sorely missed, but his legacy will live on in the loyalty of the men and women soldiers for whom he lived his whole life, and who shall carry on his spirit and legacy . . .

Yesterday in my Mutur bedroom watching eagles soar with crows over fish market garbage, when I read the article above I cried and cried, sobbed in sorrow at the dumbness of our "fighting machine" while wishing I had been more like him, and now sitting and watching a lizard walk back and forth across the front yard of the Colombo NP Office where I'm hanging today, I sob again with deeply felt tears of missing the Hack and missing the ideals we had, and wishing that fucking war could better be the glorious endeavor all the myths and stories relate about it, but knowing that both he and I know, it ain't and that the final truth is -- "Don't mean nuttin' " goddammit . . .

The Hack is dead, long live the Hack . . .

Comments

[Joley]

Hack died? I can't believe this wasn't on the news more --I'm checking in all day and didn't see this. A couple of years ago, when the Iraq war started, I wrote him asking some questions (I was researching), not expecting much; I'd seen him on CNN and elsewhere, and figured he was pretty busy. But he got back to me right away, and in short order set me straight on a few things. He was incredibly useful.

I never would have put him at 75; he looked mid-50's at best.

[thomas brinson]

Yeah, Joley. I am really bummed. He shall be sorely missed. He was a soldier's soldier, and from your experience of him a real mensch, a person's person, who gave unceasingly of himself.