Time dulls the sharp edges of painful memories, but some events are so traumatic that they are burned into our psyches where they live on forever.
For me, September 11 is one of those experiences. It continues to shape and forge who I am, even now, nine years after I separated from the Marine Corps. I’m fairly certain it will continue to influence me for the remainder of my days.
Yesterday, while our government was shut down due to incompetent leadership in the halls of Congress, I took the time to see 12 Strong, the new movie about Operational Detachment Alpha 595, the first 12-man Green Beret team to go into Afghanistan in early October 2001.
The movie was very, very good. But the moment that really stuck with me came at the beginning, when the film depicted the attacks on the Twin Towers and then showed what those warriors felt as they heard the news. It filled me with the same level of fury, outrage, and horror that I experienced as young second lieutenant in command of a scout sniper platoon pulling targets in the butts at Stone Bay Rifle Range at Camp Lejeune. I’m pretty sure that anyone who was in the military on that day, or deployed soon after to Afghanistan, or later to Iraq will feel about how I felt. And I’m pretty sure that all of us would say that ever since that moment, we’ve never been the same.
Think about it: A generation has been serving in combat in two theaters of war for more than 16 years. If that doesn’t put your life into perspective, I don’t’ know what does.
Human beings are weak, self-centered, petty, and cruel. It’s the dark side of human nature, and unfortunately, it consumes many of us. Like Raylan Givens from the show Justified, I’m an angry man who finds himself filled with a outrage every day at the things I see people do to one another. But as a recovering alcoholic, I struggle to manage this anger. That’s why I write intense, emotional, action thrillers for Simon & Schuster, stories in which the good guys struggle against a world gone sideways. It’s why I work out every day, to try and calm the raging storm I feel. It’s why I still try and do the right thing, each and every day, even if I fail repeatedly.
It’s the trying that matters, an attempt at obtaining some sense of elusive peace. And one of things that centers me is the memory of 9/11. When I stop in the middle of my day, for just a moment, and think about the sacrifices men and women in the military and government agencies have endured since the attacks, I’m reminded that I am small, that I am part of something much bigger, and that it’s my duty to continue to put service above self.
I swore an oath to the Constitution, an oath I execute daily as a federal employee. But while I may remind myself of that oath, it seems that the leaders we elected to represent us have forgotten it, often intentionally acting in politically partisan ways that undermine and disrespect our principles.
Leaders such as Chuck Schumer and Mitch McConnell have demonstrated such disregard for the average American that it boggles the mind. They allowed the government to shut down, putting hard-working federal employees whose job it is to protect national security or support the military temporarily out of work. And yet they get re-elected again and again. It’s maddening to the point of insanity, electing the same people into office but hoping for different results.
I don’t have answers, and I only speak for myself when I say that we, as a country, need to do better. We need to demand more from our leaders. We need to hold them accountable, regardless of political party, when they betray their sacred oath. We need to drag them into the light of scrutiny that all of us as average Americans have to abide by—the law.
Do they not feel the same sense of duty and responsibility that the rest of us feel? Do they have no honor, self-awareness, or moral code to guide them in times of crisis?
Senators say the following when sworn into office:
I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter: So help me God.
For the past several years those words have felt like a hollow, empty promise. Something designed not as an oath, but as a satirical meme.
I just think we deserve better.
Matthew Betley is a former Marine officer, a recovering alcoholic, a political action thriller author of multiple novels from Simon & Schuster. Follow him on Twitter @MatthewBetley or find him on Facebook.
