Harboring unforgiveness

There are just a couple people in this world I still need to forgive.  Until the other night, I think there was only one, a bag of scum who thought that leading a gang rape of someone (who later became my close friend) was an appropriate course of action in response to the wholly unacceptable situation of women being in a service academy.  I can't believe I've forgotten this man's name, but that doesn't diminish my need to exercise forgiveness toward him.  If we were ever to meet and those synapses fire again, I would need to respond to him in the way that might foster what's best for him, not the way that best gives release to my fury.

The latest one was not nearly so malevolent, merely very wrongheaded.  He was an Army colonel in Afghanistan, and here's what he's done for which I need to forgive him:

A platoon was sent from Combat Outpost (COP) Charkh on a mission to locate and rescue a lost unit of snipers from another NATO country.  The mission took them into the mountains that the Taliban has used as an effective defense and launch platform throughout our operations in Afghanistan. After a far lengthier search mission than they'd been sent out expecting, involving a higher than anticipated amount of aerial support, they finally located these allied soldiers two days after the platoon had exhausted the limited food and water with which they'd been provisioned; after all, this was supposed to have been a much shorter mission. Calling in for transportation back to the COP upon accomplishment of their mission, rather than being heralded for their tenacious execution of their orders, they were informed that since they'd blown through their budget of air support for this mission, they'd have to walk back through the enemy territory they'd traversed.  In fairness, it was an area in which air activity carried its own risks.  A truck was dispatched to pick up the NATO personnel, though.  In gratitude toward and solidarity with the determined men who'd rescued them, these allied soldiers refused to board it.  The truck was then ordered to return to the COP empty rather than provide transportation to the soldiers who had accomplished this dangerous and difficult mission, but had used up too many resources in the process.  Twelve hours later, these brave and determined soldiers arrived back at their outpost, hungry, exhausted, and, I imagine, more than a little angry.

So I find that I must forgive the number-crunching colonel who placed his budget and his need to drive home his point ahead of these men's safety.  I understand the need for budgetary concerns, even in times of war.  But putting my son-in-law, a husband and a father of four young children, and his fellow soldiers at risk as a result of his and his platoon's determination in accomplishing a more dangerous and difficult mission than anyone expected it to be seems narrow-minded and short-sighted, at best.