Adam McLain

The civilian world has completely botched the meaning of "stay out of politics." People like Joe Byerly treat the phrase as a gag order: soldiers get no voice, preferably no vote, and should content themselves with being the mute muscle while the smart set debates policy over brunch. War, of course, is what happens when politics collapses, which, if he bothered to consult the last few thousand years of human history, he would know is the ordinary state of affairs rather than some tragic aberration. Byerly has already revealed himself as a self-regarding little prig, inflated by the minor prestige of calling himself a journalist and sharing the progressive conviction that the press badge confers moral and intellectual superiority over every man and woman who actually wears a uniform. In his worldview the military exists to stay silent, stand at attention, and genuflect when the reporter sweeps into the room. There is no universe in which the soldier might be sharper, more experienced, or simply more consequential than the man with the notebook. The real message is the oldest one in the playbook: kiss the ring, keep your mouth shut, and let your betters do the talking. Kiss my ring indeed... sit on my bayonet Byers.