Servicemen forced to action on conscience by Sarah Littman

published March 21, 2006

I had an interesting discussion the other day with a former Special Operations guy who still serves in the Reserves. Our views on many things (particularly the war in Iraq and civil liberties) were radically different, yet we were nonetheless able to have a civilized discourse, a rarity in these ultra-polarized times.

I enjoy speaking with people in the military, because it helps me gain a perspective that as a civilian I clearly lack.

This is why I found a recent story in London's Daily Telegraph so intriguing. The Telegraph is the paper that dyed-in-the-wool British Conservatives read over their morning toast and marmalade.

The paper reported the story of Ben Griffin, a member of the elite Special Air Services G-Squadron who returned for a week's leave from a three-month tour in Baghdad, where his unit had been serving alongside Delta Force targeting al-Qaida cells and insurgent units, and told his commanding officer that he could no longer serve alongside American troops in a war he felt was morally wrong. It's the first time that an SAS soldier's quit the Army on moral grounds.

In his first interview since leaving the SAS, Mr. Griffin said:

"I saw a lot of things in Baghdad that were illegal or just wrong. I knew, so others must have known, that this was not the way to conduct operations if you wanted to win the hearts and minds of the local population. And if you don't win the hearts and minds of the people, you can't win the war."

Griffin said that he had witnessed "dozens of illegal acts" by U.S troops, claiming that they viewed all Iraqis as "untermenschen" - the German term for sub-human peoples.

"The Americans had this catch-all approach to lifting suspects. The tactics were draconian and completely ineffective. The Americans were doing things like chucking farmers into Abu Ghraib or handing them over to the Iraqi authorities, knowing full well they were going to be tortured," Griffin said. "After you have been on a few operations, experience tells you when you are dealing with insurgents or just civilians, and we knew the people we had detained were not a threat . . . I couldn't understand why we had [done] this, so I said to my troop commander 'would we have behaved in the same way in the Balkans or Northern Ireland?' He shrugged his shoulders and said 'this is Iraq', and I thought 'and that makes it all right?' "

Griffin expected to be called a coward and to face court martial for what he called "the most difficult decision of my life." Instead, he was discharged from the SAS with a testimonial describing him as a "balanced, honest, loyal and determined individual who possesses the strength of character to have the courage of his convictions."

Makes you think, doesn't it?

Now before I get deluged in letters calling me I'm an "America-hating socialist" and other, unprintable epithets, my support and respect for those serving in our country's military in unwavering. What disgusts me is the example of moral relativism being displayed to our troops by their commander in chief.

I'm not alone in this, nor is my disquiet merely the result of being a civilian. Recently, Joseph W. DuRocher, of Orlando, Fla., sent this letter to President Bush:

As a young man, I was honored to serve our nation as a commissioned officer and helicopter pilot in the U.S. Navy . . . In WWII, my father [spent] two years in the Pacific . . . We were patriots sworn "to protect and defend" . . . You have dishonored our service . . . the Constitution and principles of our oath . . . I return . . . the symbols of my years of service: the shoulder boards of my rank and my naval aviator's wings . . .

Until your administration, I thought it was impossible for our nation to take hundreds of persons into custody without provable charges of any kind, and to "disappear" them into holes like Gitmo, Abu Ghraib and Bagram . . . In my wildest legal fantasy, I could not imagine a U.S. attorney general seeking to justify torture or a president first stating his intent to veto an anti-torture law, and then adding a "signing statement" that he intends to ignore such law as he sees fit. I do not want these things done in my name . . .

I think of myself as a good American . . . I'm saddened to give up my wings and bars . . . But I hate the torture and death you have caused more than I value their symbolism.

Powerful words. Du Rocher concluded by saying he cries for his beloved country. So do I.