Four French Soldiers Receive Honors

At 5:27 this morning the following arrived in my EMail in-basket.  For me it was moving, and it spoke to how the war in Afghanistan is not just about us, and not just about the People of Afghanistan, but it is about a wide variety of people who united to deal with a global terrorist threat that emerged on 9/11.  The question of if we are done in Afghanistan is one that needs to be debated, in a serious way, but for now one of the most important things is honoring the lives of men and women who gave the last full measure in pursuit of what they saw as a better world.

Subject:  From Kabul

Kabul, Afghanistan:  Ten minutes ago...

It is cold here today, and it is snowing.  The tarmac is covered with a light layer of slick snow as we walk out towards the aircraft.  There are almost two hundred of us at the start, but the numbers grow.  We have arranged ourselves in two lines.  It is at least a hundred yards from the plane to the end of our rows.  There are three or four hundred of us by the time the trucks arrive.

There are two of them.  Thankfully, no more are needed today.  Ancient flat-bed Renaults with no sides, painted a plain green, these trucks are no longer suited to field work. But for their cargo today they do the job.  Two caskets per truck, each covered neatly with the Tricolor of France.

Closest to the plane is the French Honor Guard, then the French contingent from this base.  The rest of us, the greater mass, wear no particular uniform.

Ten yards to my right, and on the opposite side, I see some Mongolians.  Directly across from me are Belgians and Germans, a few Americans, and a Brit.  To my left there is a contingent from Spain.  Portuguese are behind me to my right.  At least fifteen nations have uniforms in these lines.  My ears are cold.  We have been out here half an hour.  We will be here an hour more.

There are four French soldiers walking slowly in front of the trucks as they move from the hanger. Each carries a red pillow.  I cannot see, but I know what is there.  These are the awards and decorations, Napoleons "bits of ribbon," which his countrymen still find useful, and which these men had earned in life.  Behind them comes the first truck, and the pall-bearers, at the slow march.  Then the second, and then more men to carry their comrades.  They come to a halt at the end of our rows, at the end of the cordon of honor we have formed, at the end of their time here in Afghanistan.

The French Minister of Defense arrives, with the Chief of Defense and the US Marine who commands us here in Afghanistan behind him. We are called to attention.  It is not a sharp movement.  We have not rehearsed this, and we speak dozens of different languages.  But in this, we understand each other.  What crispness is lacking is more than compensated by the nature of the compliance to the order.  We are here, all of us, of our own free will.  To render unto these fallen men of France the respect they deserve.  They were soldiers.  They would have understood.

And then they come, they pass, and they depart. Hand salutes are rendered, dropped, rendered, dropped.  Once for each man's body as it leaves this place and is taken into the belly of the plane, to be returned to the motherland, La France.

And then we are done.  We return to our work.  Picking up our labor where we left off.

Nothing further to report.

Bateman

Lieutenant Colonel Robert Bateman, US Army, is a soldier and an historian.  He is currently serving in Afghanistan, assigned to International Security Assistance, Force Joint Command, Afghanistan.

Thank you LTC Bateman.

A news article on the original incident, which resulted in the death of these four soldiers can be found here.

Regards  —  Cliff