Video: The Sacrifices Made By Military Families. Was It All For Nothing?

As Afghanistan is violently overthrown by one of the terrorist organizations we’ve been fighting for decades, military service members and their families are asking, “Was it all for nothing?” But few people really understand what “it” is that they’re talking about.

Here’s our perspective as a military family.

A few years ago, I had to send my husband off on one of his deployments. At the time of that deployment, we had 3 children. I knew exactly how the goodbye was going to go, and I decided to film it. I got a lot of hate at the time for being “insensitive” or “callous” for filming the reality of one of the many goodbyes we said to our daddy. Trolls said I should have comforted my children rather than film them. And I would have loved to. But there’s no comforting your kids in that situation. And as their mother, I decided that since they were going to scream and cry in devastation anyway, I may as well document it so it can never be forgotten or minimized. And I don’t regret my decision because I believe that hard things like this deserve more attention and understanding than they currently get. Everyone loves those feel-good soldier homecoming videos and all the cute pictures that families take of the reunions. And that’s great. But the joyous homecoming that gets all the public attention is but a tiny moment in the middle of many months and cumulative years of difficult sacrifice before, during, and after the deployments, that get very little public attention. So I filmed our goodbye. And it’s devastating. And I’m so glad that I captured our reality, regardless of the trolls who don’t appreciate this glimpse into military sacrifice.

So what is “it” that service members wonder about being all for nothing?

It was the 0300 crowded hangar goodbye with our weeks old baby, knowing she would be walking and would have no idea who he is when he would next see her.

It was a disheveled family picture just in case it would be the last one we would ever take.

It was holding it together for him in the hangar and then crying so hard in the car that I had to pull over.

It was his feeling of helplessness as he stepped onto that plane knowing that he was leaving his family to fend for themselves, far from family and friends, and that we were all considering the possibility of it being our final moment together.

It was sleeping with the phone on full volume on the pillow next to me so I couldn’t possibly miss it, just in case he would call, and it was the last time he ever would.

It was the flood of relief when he managed to send a short message telling me that he was alive and would try to call when he could.

It was the panic any time the doorbell rang unexpectedly, wondering if I’d open the door to soldiers in dress blues there to notify me.

It was disappointment as he watched his children’s milestones and achievements via pictures from thousands of miles away.

It was devastation as his children cried to him on the phone, or worse, didn’t even know him well enough to care to talk to him.

It was desperation as he watched his family having adventures without him, or struggling while he was powerless to help.

It was scouring the internet for news of attacks or downed aircraft when I didn’t hear from him.

It was the “I’m not allowed to talk about it over the phone” conversations, and knowing that something had happened that would have a lasting impact on him, but not having a clue what it might have been, and knowing I might not ever find out, much less understand.

It was frustration at feeling like his hands were tied and his efforts wasted, but being stuck there anyway, separated from his home and family.

It was witnessing devastating tragedy, the images of which are burned into his brain forever.

It was him being understandably changed every time he came home.

It was months of relearning how to function as a family again once he came home.

It was months of relearning how to be the husband and father we needed despite him now being a different person than the one who left.

It was months of reacquainting himself with is own wife and children, because, contrary to common assumption, everything doesn’t just suddenly go back to “normal” when a soldier comes home.

It was months of relearning how to feel safe and secure, and not to be in a state of constant hyper-vigilance and preparedness for serious bodily injury or death.

It was the “I can’t ever talk about it” conversations once he was home.

It still is anxiety in normal situation of chaos or noise.

It still is hypervigilance in normal public situations of limited personal control.

It still is hearing bits of stories he never mentioned before, and knowing there’s a lot he’s still not saying.

It still is grieving for friends and fellow soldiers who were killed by the enemy or lost the battle waging in their own heart and mind.

This doesn’t even take into account the billions of wasted taxpayer dollars. Or the countless broken promises by politicians. Or the hours, days, weeks, and months of completely wasted time where nothing meaningful was accomplished but untold resources were expended.

This doesn’t consider the argument that we should never have stayed after the initial strike force missions following 9/11. Or the argument that an entire war was manufactures for purely political and monetary reasons, and had nothing to do with the actual well-being of any of the people involved. Or the argument that forcing a particular type of government on a nation that is not prepared for or interested in it is not the best use of time or resources. Or the argument that defense contractors and high-profile military and government personnel make millions of dollars off endless and unnecessary wars, and thus have very little incentive to win or end them, despite the cost to the people involved. Or the argument that the entire unnecessary debacle has been bungled many times and by many authority figures over 20 years. Or the argument that the country was never going to be sufficiently prepared for American withdrawal because they were made to be dependent upon American forces for 20 years while those same American forces were handicapped by their own bureaucratic red tape that prevented much actual headway to occur.

As a military service member, the military is your entire life. They own you. 24 hours of every single day, they own you. They control your schedule. They control your future. They control where you live, and for how long. They control your health and your medical treatment options. They control your leisure activities and your free time. And to an extent, this is also true of the families.

Service members and their families were willing to make these sacrifices and dedicate their entire lives and careers to protecting and defending the vulnerable and serving their nation. And now they had to watch as their Commander in Chief very poorly executed an unimpressive withdrawal plan, refused to answer questions, avoided responsibility, gave no meaningful information about the situation, and instead recited scripted statements about hyper-partisan narratives and quickly fled the room to hide from the public.

This is what service members mean when they wonder whether it was all for nothing. Very literally, they are wondering if their entire life, their career, their sacrifices, and the sacrifices of their families has all been a complete waste.

We are proud of my husband’s military services and the sacrifices we have been willing to make as a family. But make no mistake, it is incredibly difficult to watch as everything you’ve worked and sacrificed for wiped out in a few violent and very poorly managed days.

I beg you, show them that their sacrifices have value by protecting and safeguarding our freedoms, rights, and liberties here in the great country that they have given their entire lives to serve.