To Whom it May Concern,

As a veteran of the war in Afghanistan who experienced firsthand the uncertain horrors of that conflict, I am heartbroken. First, let me make something perfectly clear: This is a post about humanity; about doing the right thing; about moral responsibility and accountability; about will; and about living up to the ideals of the United States. This is not about politics, presidents or national, operational, and tactical strategies and plans. This is a plea to do what is right for the interpreters and translators who served alongside us 24/7/365. This one is for my loyal compatriots Tayyib, Shakeib, and Des and their families. God bless you guys. I worry about you.

Afghanistan has fallen into the hands of the Taliban again. The US embassy is being evacuated and Kabul is surrounded. The Taliban slowly took over seemingly disparate districts and recruited a new force across the countryside without action by the US or Afghan governments for the last several years. The penultimate "battle" has taken a little over two weeks as a corrupt and spineless Afghan government has, predictably, run away from the sound of the guns, again. That's bad enough. This is how the North Vietnamese hoped Tet would go and the intelligence and leadership failures on our side were just as bad this time.

But this isn't about the military. This isn't about thanking vets for our service (please don't - it's kind of awkward) or getting 10% off purchases at Lowes. This is about saving the translators and interpreters who supported us on the ground as we did our jobs, said "Goodbye" and came home, hopefully in one piece, at least physically.

Those brave Afghans who helped us, and their wives and children, are doomed. There is no sugar-coating this. They will be hunted down and systematically killed as long as they are in Afghanistan. So will their families and extended families. The Taliban are every bit as bad as the drug cartels (technically, they are a cartel in the heroin and hash sectors) and are united by radical faith, rampant ignorance, violence, and body odor, among other things.

The United States must, and I mean MUST, do everything in its power to get these translators, interpreters and their families out. Every one of them. Instead, they are mired in the State Department's morass of forms, lines, and bureaucracy. Think waiting a 100 days for a passport so you can go to Cozumel at Christmas is bad? Try waiting for that passport in Kandahar.

So, you might be asking, "What can I do, Captain Obvious?" Unfortunately, the answer is, "Not a hell of a lot at this point." You can pray, if that's your thing (I've been doing that) but the answer doesn't appear forthcoming in time. You can protest, but we're all kind of protested-out at this point. You can write letters to Congress (I tried that last year), but they don't care. If you're possessed of great wealth, you can form your own evacuation network, but I don't see Bezos and Co. signing up for that kind of job. You can join a non-profit quietly working inside Afghanistan under the auspices of providing aid, but good luck coming home with your head attached. You can donate to a dedicated cause to help them get out, but most of your money will be siphoned off along the way (tried this too - no joy).

Or, you can stand up, man-up, and be held accountable as Americans who failed about a thousand or so friends when they needed us most. Thanks to failures of our own leadership and bureaucracy, this burden now falls on all of us, unfortunately.

Like the rest of you, I eagerly await the upcoming football season for my beloved Buckeyes. This year, though, I also find myself hoping for a miracle east of Iran. That's a lousy place to look for one, I can assure you.

To Tayyib, Shakeib, and Des, I'm sorry. I hope you and you families are somewhere safe. I fear you aren't.