Tim Walz’s military crime is all in the cover-up

There’s an unmistakable aura if you’ve ever been to any of the 172 VA medical centers run by the Veterans Health Administration. It’s a quiet somberness — near reverence — that demands attention and respect. Many veterans are elderly, and they glide through the hallways in wheelchairs pushed by volunteers. They often wear jackets with American flags and service branch patches that look oversized on their age-shrunken frames. But from under their hats, almost always in caps of the conflict and associated service ribbon, their eyes reflect a knowledge of human nature that goes along with the horrors of war. They aren’t asked to explain their service; you can see it in their faces.

At the VA Medical Center in Minneapolis, this is a common scene. It’s a busy place, but its sprawling campus and storied atrium lined with American flags maintain this peacefulness. Not once have I entered it and considered the politics of the men in the wheelchairs, the doctors and nurses caring for them or the volunteers who give their time to those who sacrificed for all of us. “Respect All Ye Who Enter” could be a sign above the entrance. Unfortunately, modern American politics has invaded this last bastion of nonpartisanship. And Governor Tim Walz has certainly done his part in storming the gates.

“I am damn proud of my service to this country,” Walz said in a speech at the American Federation of State, County and Municipal Employees convention in Los Angeles on August 13. “And I firmly believe you should never denigrate another person’s service record.”

His pointed remark was a response to claims of stolen valor based on a meandering, less than clearly defined recollection of his twenty-four years of service in the Army National Guard.

Here’s the thing: Walz is right. But not in the way he intends, which reveals something deeper about his character. He uses his service as a shield against all criticism and signals to his defenders that it’s Walz and his fellow Democrats who are the real patriots because they are the subject of Republican “pouncing.” (Never mind a crisis; victimhood is a terrible thing to waste.)

Walz should be proud of his service. So, why isn’t he? Why does he feel the need to hide behind the idea of it as a way to shelter himself from political and policy criticism or question his judgment? You can speculate about his motivation for joining or the timing of retirement, but there’s no disputing that he volunteered to serve the country when most Americans do not. That’s commendable. What is not and is deeply offensive is that this service isn’t enough for him. Walz had to embellish a respectable record — at best, let observers reach a false conclusion about the nature of service and, at worst, lie about it.

Americans understand the concept of honorable service. It consists of answering the nation’s call, serving with dignity, and making a fair amount of personal sacrifice. And unless you make a career out of it, military service becomes an asterisk in life’s timeline. Again, ask a vet what they did in war — from World War Two to the Middle East — and many answer with humble understatement because there is always someone who made a greater sacrifice and because there are men who made the ultimate sacrifice.

Walz engages in puffery for personal and professional gain. He insults every veteran who never talks about it but has a drawer full of medals. He muddles the concept of patriotism as something that belongs to all Americans and makes it about having a political shield from criticism or a way to draw sympathy because his statements come under scrutiny.

I come from a family of veterans that goes back to my great-grandfather, Olaf, who came here from Norway as a teenager and promptly went back to France to fight as a new American during World War One. His son left the family’s North Dakota farm and found himself in the South Pacific during World War Two. My father volunteered during Vietnam — and after 9/11, I joined the Marine Corps. Let me be clear: I never left Quantico, Virginia. To say my service was brief would be an overstatement. I would never, in my wildest dreams, compare my “service” to that of my relatives. Like most Americans, I celebrate Veterans’ Day by taking advantage of a good furniture sale. But I know in my interactions with most people who haven’t served that there is an opportunity to take advantage of people’s ignorance and unquestioning trust and respect regarding the military. A respect dividend exists, and it’s been paid by generations of war-weary young men. To leave any ambiguity about one’s service is a testament to his character — or lack thereof.

Walz knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s a shrewd political operator, and no amount of Midwest Dad “aw, shucks” image allows him to get away with what his campaign claims was his misspeaking or insisting it’s the audience’s fault they misunderstood — akin to the “I’m sorry if you were offended” non-apology.

This isn’t about Walz’s service. It’s about the lies and his objections, defensiveness and anger when questioned. That is more difficult to obscure than retirement timelines or his official rank. What else is he lying about explicitly or letting people reach the wrong conclusions without objection or clarification? You’ve lost once you start parsing minuscule details and revert to the technical nomenclature unfamiliar to a civilian. This is a stone’s throw from the comedian code: “If you have to explain the joke, there is no joke.” If you have to explain the truth, well… Walz has a lot of explaining to do.