Serving in a unit like the 101st Airborne Division can feel like a job. It’s a normal, everyday thing. Even in combat. It’s not until after you leave a famous unit like that — after you leave the Army, in fact — that you realize it is a privilege to lead and serve alongside such soldiers.
It’s not until much later, among the regular people at the office, that you realize how unlikely it is that anyone around you would ever grab three guys and come running if you were pinned down or out of ammo. In the Army, you take those things for granted because everybody does it. They do it. They don’t question it. They don’t all survive.
For those of us who served in Afghanistan and Iraq, Section 60 — the burial site of hundreds of service members killed in those wars — is the inner sanctum.
I survived and I’m old now. Not truly old. I’m 46. But old in the Army sense. I’m no longer carved out of wood. My left hamstring groans at the thought of running more than a mile. Doctors have taken an interest in my colon.
But I realize this is a privilege. It’s a gift. Being old, I mean. Aging out. For once, I’m finally aware of the privilege in the moment. I am old. But I have friends who are still in their 20s. Friends who should be in their 40s. Some of them are buried at Arlington National Cemetery.
That is what makes Arlington a special place. And for those of us who served in Afghanistan and Iraq, Section 60 — the burial site of hundreds of service members killed in those wars — is the inner sanctum. It is the most sacred plot among more than 600 hallowed acres. When I lived in Northern Virginia during Barack Obama’s administration, I avoided Section 60 studiously. It was too much, and still too close. There was always that looming sense that it could’ve been me. Maybe it should’ve been me.
So I didn’t visit until I was about to move back to Dallas. An Army buddy told me I had to go before I left D.C. So I did. Finally.
All of this is to say that, to combat veterans, Arlington National Cemetery has the same power that all holy places have. And that is why Donald Trump’s recent behavior is so repulsive.
Trump was so eager to use Arlington’s Section 60 as a backdrop for a campaign event this week that he may have broken federal laws against politicizing the burial ground to do it. Trump’s staff also shoved aside a cemetery official trying to stop them. He even posed for a photograph over a U.S. Marine’s gravesite, grinning and giving a thumbs-up. The moment was jaw-droppingly crass and vulgar, as all of Trump’s are. It defiled sacred ground.
But of course, Trump’s disregard for military tradition and his disdain for military service members is well documented. This incident was only the latest in a long line.
Trump began his adult life dodging the draft for Vietnam. Someone else went in his place. Maybe that person survived. Or maybe they’re buried at Arlington with thousands of other Vietnam veterans.
Trump later told Howard Stern that avoiding sexually transmitted diseases was my ‘personal Vietnam.’
‘Whatever the outcome, the thought has never troubled Trump. He later told Howard Stern that avoiding sexually transmitted diseases was “my personal Vietnam.” When those comments resurfaced during his first run for president, his supporters shrugged them off. “It’s a joke!” they said. “He’s a showman!” If it had only ended there.








