Platner understands something that far too many people in politics only understand abstractly. He understands what war does to young men. He understands the cost that is paid long after the speeches are over and the flags have been folded away, and on a personal level, he continues to pay that cost. As do I. As do so many others who swear too much and look back on that time in our lives as the best worst time we ever had. As the time in our lives when we were truly needed by other men we respected. As a time when we were an essential part of a tribe with its own rules, shibboleths, and taboos.
(Snip)

We who have intimately seen ground combat know that every human being carries an animal inside of them. Most of you are fortunate enough never to meet it. A small number of people are forced to. And we learned things about violence, fear, courage, guilt, loyalty, and human nature that cannot be learned in a classroom, a think tank, or a Senate hearing room.

The value of that perspective is not that it makes someone more eager to use force. Quite often, it has the opposite effect. Those who know violence best are frequently the least romantic about it. They understand both its necessity and its cost. They understand that protecting a nation’s borders, interests, and citizens is a fundamental responsibility of government and must be done as effectively as possible, and that this does not mean as cruelly as possible.

What strikes me most about Platner is that he belongs to a tradition the American left has spent, at least the Trump years, searching for without fully realizing it. We have been waiting for our own version of General Grant: a flawed man, imperfect in his personal life, rough around the edges, but willing to fight relentlessly for principles larger than himself.