In my 30 years in journalism, I never received more hate mail than in April 2003 when I wrote that the much-celebrated Army POW Jessica Lynch didn’t deserve hero status.

My column pointed out major holes in the Pentagon’s story about a tough-as-nails little blonde from the backwoods of West Virginia who was “fighting to the death” when the Iraqis captured her. I wrote that Lynch was a casualty, not a commando, and that many others facing combat in Iraq deserved the nation’s adulation more than Lynch.
In response, readers called me pathetic and idiotic (and worse) and they demanded that my bosses fire me.

The vitriol aimed at me came in the middle of the first phase of the war, when anyone who dared criticize the military’s actions was instantly berated. Remember “freedom fries?” How about the ever-present “wall of honor” on MSNBC broadcasts?
At that time, who could ever have imagined that just five or six years later Lynch, the war hero, would endure hateful criticism — letters from the public calling her a fraud and a publicity monger — as she was still struggling to recover from her massive injuries and live a normal life?

Once back home, Lynch became a victim a second time — a casualty of the public’s fickle views of the war and of a pop culture that dishes out fame and then yanks it away.

I supported the war but I couldn’t stomach the military-driven hype about Lynch that ignored the facts and instead portrayed her capture and rescue as an All-American made-for-TV movie. “Saving Private Lynch” — I was sure Hollywood already had the title written.
Pentagon propaganda is a very powerful weapon, but when it backfires it can inflict tremendous damage on our troops and their loved ones. Just ask the family of Pat Tillman. Lynch is no exception.
Over time, the pride and patriotism associated with the war dissolved into public indifference and opposition to our prolonged presence there. Apathy abounded as the conflict in Iraq, which cost 4,500 American lives, was declared officially over at a stark ceremony in Baghdad on Thursday.

At the same time, Lynch is finally celebrating a victory.

A news report indicated that Lynch just graduated from college in West Virginia with a teaching degree, a goal of hers since she entered the military 10 years ago at age 18.
She finished her training as a student teacher at the same elementary school she attended in sparsely populated Wirt County. On badly damaged legs and a right foot that still causes her pain, she walked across the stage on Friday and received her degree from West Virginia University at Parkersburg.

Through the years, Lynch has made numerous public appearances, but the Pentagon’s lies have cost her. The AP reported that for a long time, she got hate mail. Some said she’d done nothing to deserve the attention or the title of hero. At one point, the stoic former POW said she felt like “the most hated person in America.”
Every now and then, after a high-profile appearance, a hateful missive still arrives. “They say things like, ‘Who do you think you are? That was so eight years ago,’” Lynch told the AP.

Of course, the former soldier played no role in concocting the tale spun by the Army. But the details continue to haunt her. What really happened in that Nasiriyah gun battle and in the supposedly top secret operation to find and save Lynch and fellow POWs?
She never fired her weapon. The “daring raid” occurred at a hospital that was nearly empty. She was a supply clerk riding in a small convoy of vehicles that took a wrong turn and drove into an Iraqi ambush. Her massive injuries came when her Humvee slammed into an Army semi-truck.

But none of that mattered back in 2003.

Upon her return home after nine days in captivity, Lynch became an instant celebrity. She was showered with gifts and fanfare. The giddy media converged in such a suffocating manner that Lynch’s family had to hire a publicity agent.
In a second column I wrote about Lynch later in 2003, which also generated hate mail, I asserted that the young soldier had attracted so much attention from the media and the public because she had “the look.”
The cute blonde is perfect for TV appearances and magazine covers. The four other POWs rescued in the raid — who lacked the look — were largely ignored.

Predictably, many of the offers to tell Lynch’s story in movies and TV appearances and books and interviews faded away. As the post-war story eventually played out, it was definitely not a mom-and-apple pie tale.

The real drama was that Lynch endured years of physical therapy for her injuries — shattered legs, a broken foot, spinal fractures, nerve damage and a severely injured right arm — and she underwent treatment for emotional and psychological problems.
She struggled to attend college and attain a degree. She tried to shut out her war memories but still suffered from nightmares. She had a daughter out of wedlock with her boyfriend five years ago who was given a Native American name, Dakota, in honor of one of the 11 soldiers who died in that ambush eight years ago.

I wonder how the God-loving, patriotic Americans who glorified Lynch in 2003 admire the story that finally unfolded. In the end, the golden girl was not cast in a feel-good movie, she was cast aside.
“The bottom line is the American people are capable of determining their own ideals of heroes,” she told Congress in 2007, “and they don’t need to be told elaborate lies.”

Lynch never sought the adulation, or deserved the hellish criticism.
She became a pawn for the propaganda machines. To this day, she hurts — physically and emotionally.
“I fake it. But my family, my friends … they know when I’m really in pain,” she said.

In 2003, I wrote that Lynch was resilient, though not extraordinary. But I was wrong.
She has demonstrated over the past eight years that, yes, she is a woman of character and courage.

You might even call her a hero.

 

Chad Selweski can be reached at chad.selweski@macombdaily.com.