Republished with permission from D. Earl Stephens

Ever since the reprehensible Donald Trump—the Republican Party’s loathsome candidate for president—desecrated the graves of our fallen heroes and their families at Arlington National Cemetery’s hallowed Section 60 last Monday, August 26, by slovenly staking it out for a campaign photo-op, I have searched inside myself for the right words to express my sadness, anger, and disgust.

I had all but given up, when I came across an opinion piece on the tragic subject from retired Admiral Mike Mullen in today’s editions of the Washington Post. Mullen, who attained the rare rank of four-star admiral, and commanded one high-level posting after another during his superlative, 43-year career in the Navy, served as Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff from 2007 to 2011 under Presidents George W. Bush and Barack Obama.

Mullen’s career was honorable, distinguished, and as a Navy man myself, did me proud.

Our paths crossed a few times while I was the civilian Managing Editor of Stars and Stripes newspaper from 2000 to 2011, and he was bouncing around the globe from one big command to another. Mullen presented as understated, distinguished, and one step ahead of whatever it was he was messing with.

Mullen always respected Stars & Stripes, which could be a helluva lot easier said than done from a man in his position.

Because Stripes is mandated by Congress to be editorially independent, we occasionally turned around some tough stories, that didn’t always reflect well on the military or command.

Our service members are only too human sometimes, and a rare few will stumble and find trouble—a sailor robbing store, a captain running aground, a master chief peddling Navy secrets … Unfortunately, it’s news when it happens. Best the military’s newspaper reports it first, rather than some other media entity that treats the military as a sidelight or a hobby.

We reported on the military for the military, good and bad, and Mullen understood and respected our mission. So when I saw him take to a newspaper today to explain to the American public why what Trump pulled at Arlington was so out of line and disrespectful, I read it with extreme interest.

Among Mullen’s many points in his editorial is that politics have no place whatsoever in our military. This is a line Trump has disgracefully crossed before, which is why so many former military leaders are sounding the alarms about another Trump term.

Typical of the man, Mullen was for more measured than I could ever be, but elegantly made a series of excellent points before landing here: “to intrude upon that scene—to visit politics upon it—is to do much more than violate those rules; it is to betray the very nature of Arlington.”

“It is to betray the very nature of Arlington …” That, to me, was the money line, and why everybody must understood Trump’s high crime, and how low he went with his disgraceful visit.

But rather than critique the admiral’s good work, I thought it best to just share it with you here directly. It is a short, tight piece and explains why Mullen “never wants to see it happen again.”

The best way to prevent this, of course, is to make sure this horrible person never gets anywhere near power again.

You’ll notice he never mentions the despicable man, by his despicable name. This is by design, because the admiral honors his own words by avoiding sounding political or partisan. He’s sees his job as drawing the bright line that was obliterated here, and can never be crossed again.

Here is Admiral Mullen’s offering:

Grieving families gathered at Arlington National Cemetery last week to commemorate the third anniversary of a terrorist attack in Afghanistan that took the lives of 13 brave American troops.

What was supposed to be a healing moment—a simple wreath-laying at the Tomb of the Unknowns—became a political event when campaign officials and cameramen attended the ceremony and visited Section 60 of the cemetery. Section 60 holds the remains of hundreds of men and women killed in Afghanistan and Iraq.

I was sorry to see that happen and never want to see it happen again.

To be sure, I hope the wreath-laying offered solace to those Gold Star families and the veterans who participated. I hope that, even if only for a moment, the burden of their unimaginable sorrow was lifted. They had every right to be there, as did their special guest.

But no part of Arlington—or any veterans’ cemetery for that matter—should ever play host to partisan activity. These cemeteries are sacred ground. They represent the final resting places of our best, our brightest, our most unselfish citizens.

Our fallen and departed veterans did not serve, fight or die for party. They fought and died for country, for each other, for their families and for us. The served in a military that defends all Americans—regardless of creed, color, race and, yes, voting habits.

Politics has no place in the ranks. And it absolutely has no place in our national cemeteries.

That goes double for Section 60. For the surviving family members of the men and women buried there, Section 60 is not a graveyard. It is a sanctuary, as alive to them now as their loved ones were not so long ago. Their memories—and their loss—are as thick as the hot summer air and as fresh and fragrant as the turf so recently turned over.

Walk those neat, clean white rows for yourself. Read the headstones. And marvel at the youth beneath your feet. There are few old men or old women buried in Section 60. And there aren’t many old mourners, either. On any given day, you’ll see school-age kids missing a mom or dad, young spouses yearning for the soft embrace of a husband or wife, and parents far too young to have buried a son or a daughter.

Talk to those mourners, as I have, and you’ll hear the stories of the fallen. You’ll hear about the fish they caught, the marathons they ran, the jokes they pulled, the love and the life they embraced. But you won’t hear a whit about politics. Not a breath about who voted for whom. Section 60 is far too big a place for that.

These families and friends come to pray, to cry, to read aloud from a favorite book, to spread a blanket on the soft grass and nap and dream of closer, happier days. It may be open to the public, but Section 60 is an intensely private place. That’s why there are strict rules there and elsewhere at the cemetery forbidding partisan activity, including campaign photography.

To intrude upon that scene—to visit politics upon it—is to do much more than violate those rules; it is to betray the very nature of Arlington. It is to mock the apolitical nature of our military and to dishonor the sacrifices made by those who rest there. Worse, it may lead others to think less of those sacrifices, to view them as smaller than they actually were. And that’s a travesty, no matter what the visitor may have intended.

-END-