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The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Opinion

A man’s death is not propaganda

Mike Lopresti Gannett News Service

We are still not exactly sure the reasons Pat Tillman had to die. Where the bullets came from, who shot them, and why.

We are still not exactly sure just who did the lying afterward. Or who came to the conclusion that a tragic Hollywood ending would have to be concocted, because what really happened was deemed too unpleasant for public consumption. A famous soldier falling in Afghanistan by friendly fire would not look good on Page One or the evening news.

We are still not sure just who is culpable, or if they ever paused for 30 seconds and pondered how trying to turn death into propaganda dishonors the man, and the family left behind.

Here, at least, is what we are sure about.

Pat Tillman still cannot rest. Not yet.

He drew a packed House again this week. The chamber was full when the gavel dropped on the congressional committee that is taking one more look into the unholy mess that has developed from the loss of an Army Ranger specialist and former NFL safety.

Tillman died on April 22, 2004. On Tuesday, three years later almost to the day, Congress was back asking questions, trying to sort out the fibs from the facts. His burial brought no closure. Just accusations, denials, investigations, reports, testimony, committee meetings, press conferences and bitterness. Endless reminders that war is an untidy business and casualties often too painful to explain neatly.

Who would have dreamed it could come to this, from one original act of sacrifice?

Tillman’s story has always been too absorbing to miss, since the day he left behind the comfortable and wealthy life of professional football to go hunting for terrorists. It was a perfectly stirring tale, with huge public relations potential, from the Pentagon to the NFL. The media clamored for an interview. Just a few questions.

All Tillman had in mind, apparently, was doing his duty.

Then he was killed.

Suddenly, the made-for-TV movie had a shocking plot complication. There would be no happy ending. Editing would have to be done.

What has happened since is not just an outrage. It is an obscenity.

First, allegedly, came the Army spin doctors to give his end the proper tone, the proper medals, the proper feel. Then the backtracking, stonewalling and bureaucratic prevaricating. It took five weeks for Tillman’s family to be told how he actually died.

Tillman became a tool for any cause. His notoriety made him valuable. And his death. I have seen and heard him used by pro-war voices and anti-war voices, by conservatives and liberals, Republicans and Democrats. His memory was borrowed to be the symbol of American heroism and the symbol of American misadventure in Iraq (even though he died in Afghanistan). His death is now before Congress, which can turn anything into politics.

The simple and starkest truth, understood fully by his survivors: He was a young soldier not coming home.

Those of us who have never carried a rifle into battle, who sit here comfortably at breakfast while volunteers thousands of miles away do the fighting and dying, cannot possibly understand the fearful chaos of their lives. Terrible mistakes happen. Why? We don’t know enough to know.

So, we cannot expect perfect soldiers, perfect generals, flawless decisions, quick wars, straightforward situations, easy solutions. Only at the Cineplex.

But what we should expect, in the end, is the truth. Never more so than when young people have to die.

All someone has to do here is tell the truth. Then Pat Tillman’s family can move on. The circus can stop. Then, three years tardy, an Arizona Cardinal can rest in peace.