The implication -- that our troops might be called on to think twice about saving their own lives -- was chilling.
It still is. And especially when what may have happened this week is less soldier-on-the-ground hesitation than commander-at-the-base implacability. Read Landay's account again:
"U.S. commanders, citing new rules to avoid civilian casualties, rejected repeated calls to unleash artillery rounds at attackers dug into the slopes and tree lines -- despite being told repeatedly that they weren't near the village." In other words, McChrystal's soldiers on the ground wanted protection to save their lives -- and didn't get it.
If true, this is a national disgrace. A NATO-led investigation is under way into the incident, which on its face appears to be a natural result of the "hearts and minds" policy endorsed by Left and Right alike. As McChrystal put it last month: "We're here to protect the Afghan people. And we're here to protect them from everything that can hurt them, both enemy activity but also inadvertent activity by Afghan forces or ours. So we're trying to build into the culture of our force tremendous sensitivity that everything they may do must be balanced against the possibility of hurting anyone."
Anyone except our own.
We've come a long way -- too long -- from George S. Patton's attributed words as spoken by George C. Scott in the movie "Patton": "I want you to remember that no bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making the other poor, dumb bastard die for his country."
Today, our leading generals have something else in mind -- as when McChrystal says: "The Afghan people are the reason we're here."
Well, according to McClatchey's report this week, there is the haunting suspicion that the Afghan people, villagers and even security personnel, were behind the Ganjgal ambush in the first place.
So what kind of reason is that?