The work of peace has never been more urgent

From the desk of Chris Motia, Advocacy Ambassador, Legacies of War

"We found the girls' family — their two sisters, brother, and mother — in the nearby village a little over a mile away. They were laid out in an empty house on a bed in bundles, none of which was bigger than a supermarket bag. The boy was the best preserved; the mother barely recognizable as human. Of the other sisters, a small pair of legs emerged from a cloth, and the two heads lay at the end of the bed. Apparently their father had been vaporized. I remember that scene every time I hear a military spokesman use the phrase 'collateral damage.'"

—Anthony Loyd, 1999

On February 28th, 2026, the United States and Israel launched surprise airstrikes across Iran. As of May 28th, at least 3,400 people have been killed as bombing continues to rock cities from Tehran to Bandar Abbas, despite repeated ceasefire announcements. Among the locations hit in the opening strikes was a girls' elementary school in Minab. Though the administration initially denied responsibility — the president personally accused Iran of bombing its own school — the Department of War is now investigating whether the Tomahawk recovered at the site was American.

I expect to read the phrase "collateral damage" in the findings. Whether the blame eventually lands on AI-assisted targeting, on a missile that fell short, or on an intelligence analyst who mislabeled a classroom as part of a naval base, the conclusion will be the same one the United States has reached after every war it has fought: regrettable, unforeseeable, no one in particular at fault. Calls to blame an AI system, a weapon, or an analyst; target a symptom rather than the disease. The tragedies in Iran have repeated themselves across countless American interventions since the turn of the 20th century. These explanations ignore an old and awful truth: no matter how intelligent we make our bombs, military intervention will always harm the innocent. The military-industrial complex hides this by obfuscating blame — pushing it from the decision to strike onto a lone actor or a weapons system gone awry. But the school in Minab was not bombed by an algorithm or an analyst. It was bombed because the President ordered an unprecedented preemptive strike that put that Tomahawk in the air. It was bombed because in order to justify the largest military budget in the world, the United States must keep finding enemies — and the contractors, generals, and politicians who profit from that budget have never struggled to produce them. 

Syria 2023

I remember Specialist Li waking me up at 4PM (I was working nights) and telling me that something happened and I was needed at the Tactical Operations Center . By the time our first trucks arrived, it was already too late for any medical aid. With the dust settled, we got to work separating the casualties. Under the combination of heat and pressure from these explosives, clothing and flesh often lose their cohesive forms. Our Kurdish partners identified the boys based on what was left of their shoes.

They had been tilling a field just outside Tal Baydr with their donkey drawn cart when they unearthed and detonated a previously unexploded munition. Located in the heart of Mesopotamia, between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers, one could assume this very field had been tilled since the bronze age. But now, in the 21st century, the field moonlights as a U.S. Military Close Air Support range. And it appeared that some leftover munitions from previous weapons testing had killed the boys. The rest of the story goes about how you’d expect. Their mothers came to collect them. I don’t speak Kurdish, but wails are pretty transparent.

A few days later, formal grievances and paperwork were exchanged: Birth Certificates, US Army financial settlement documents, and at the end I compiled a report with school photographs juxtaposed next to unrecognizable post blast evidence. I don’t know if any compensation was ever paid out as a result.

My company had previously requested CENTCOM stop using the “testing range” outside of our base, as it was straining relations with locals, but no serious consideration was given at higher levels of Air Force command, before or after this "unforeseen tragedy.”

Regardless, families in Tal Baydr continued to work the fields. One can only assume the desperation caused by 10 years of ongoing civil war necessitates all sorts of calculated risks in order to survive. Tilling uncleared fields is just one of many.

I had heard of unexploded ordnance fatalities before. In 2019, my friend Asher Fausett, who first introduced me to Legacies of War, told me about the long shadow of American involvement in Southeast Asia. A lifelong critic of Henry Kissinger, Asher painted a vivid picture of the injustices faced by generations of families in Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam as a result of US Military intervention. About forgotten bombs dropped decades ago that still maim and kill today. 

[Photo: Area outside of Tal Tamr after two weeks of near-constant shelling]

[Photo: Patrolling Tal Tamr]

[Photo: Hearts and Minds, with the assistance of a few chocolate bars]

This past January, I visited Southeast Asia for the first time. The trip, a motorcycle tour through northern and central Vietnam, brought us through mountain villages along the Chinese and Lao borders. The countryside, covered in beautiful limestone karsts jutting out from fields of rice and black pepper, was mesmerizing.

Disturbingly, UXO warning signs bearing “Không nên đi vào khu vực có bom mìn” are far too common outside these villages. These signs, along with the countless stories of survivors serve as a constant reminder that munitions and landmines do not magically disappear after a war ends. I can't begin to imagine how many signs will need to be placed across Syria and Iraq, or how many people will be killed before the signs are even put up. 

US bombing campaigns have left a legacy that we should be careful not to forget. Five decades after Operation Rolling Thunder and Operation Linebacker, children still lose limbs playing after school. Whatever the United States leaves in Iranian and Syrian soil this year, someone's grandchildren will find.

We cannot accept this as normal. Military-industrial interests are already represented in every defense authorization bill that passes through Washington. Yours are not. Call your senators. Call your Representative. The people of Syria, Iraq, Laos, Vietnam, Nicaragua, and countless other countries cannot. The girls in Minab cannot. The work of peace has never been more urgent. 

Chris Motia is a veteran of the Global War on Terror, having served as an Infantry Platoon Leader in Syria and Iraq. A recipient of the Bronze Star and the Combat Infantryman Badge, he brings a firsthand perspective on the human cost of American military intervention abroad. The son of an Iranian immigrant, Chris holds a B.S. in Computer Science and Informatics from Indiana University and currently works as a Data Science Consultant.