A Minute of Silence Isn’t Enough to Reflect on the US’s Death and Destruction

Thirty years ago, school kids touring Lafayette Park in Washington, D.C. were asked what Memorial Day meant to them. “That’s the day the pools open!” they responded, as if in a chorus. Their response rippled across the U.S. and created a bit of a moral panic among the patriotic and civil-minded. The following Memorial Day, Congress sought to put the “memorial” back into the holiday. “Taps,” a 24-note bugle call adopted by the U.S. military in the late 1800s for funerals, was played on radios and televisions throughout the United States at 3:00 pm. Those celebrating the day off paused, perhaps mid-hot dog bite, to reflect on fallen U.S. soldiers. After a minute of silence, Americans resumed their fun.

What does it mean to reflect on the soldiers who died while fighting in U.S. wars? Is such a thing possible? If it is, maybe we should start with the raw numbers.

Around 25,000 U.S. soldiers died in the War for Independence; roughly 5,600 soldiers died or were wounded as they ethnically cleansed Indigenous tribes between 1785 and 1898; approximately 20,000 died in the War of 1812, mostly of disease; 625,000 died on both sides of the Civil War; 2,446 died in the Spanish-American War; 4,200 U.S. soldiers died “annexing” the Philippines; 95 died in the Boxer Rebellion; 22 died and 70 were wounded in the Mexican Revolution; at least 86 died in the occupation of Haiti from 1915-1934; nearly 117,000 were killed in World War I; 424 U.S. troops died fighting the Bolsheviks in Russia from 1918-1920; 15,000 U.S. servicemembers lost their lives in the Mexican-American War; 405,000 were killed in World War II; more than 52,000 were killed in the Korean War; more than 58,000 were killed while committing what some call a genocide in Vietnam.

We’re a little less than halfway done with this list. It feels strange packing all this death into a single paragraph, so I imagine it feels strange reading through it quickly, too. Consider standing up and walking around for a few minutes before continuing. Or at least pausing for a minute to make an effort to “memorialize” the people behind these numbers, as the government would like us to on Memorial Day, if you believe such a thing is possible.

Fifteen U.S. soldiers were killed in Lebanon in 1958; four were killed in the Bay of Pigs invasion; eight were killed in Iran in 1980; 15 U.S. soldiers died in El Salvador’s Civil War from 1980 to 1992; 265 died in Beirut between 1982 and 1984; 39 died escorting oil tankers through the Persian Gulf and Strait of Hormuz from 1987-1988; 19 were killed in Grenada; two died in a bombing at the LaBelle Club in West Berlin in 1986; 1,231 were killed or wounded in first Gulf War from 1990 to 1991; 19 were killed aiding Kurdish refugees fleeing Iraq in 1991 in what was known as Operation Provide Comfort; 30 soldiers were killed in Somalia from 1992-1993; four died in Haiti between 1994 and 1995.

We’re almost done. Just 30 more years of American war history left.

One U.S. soldier was killed in combat operations in Bosnia-Herzegovina in 1996; 2 U.S. soldiers died in Kosovo in 1999; 3,923 U.S. troops were killed and 20,700 were wounded in Afghanistan since 2001; 36,395 were killed or wounded in the Iraq War; and 13 are said to have been killed (plus another 400+ wounded) in Donald Trump’s war on Iran (although many dispute these numbers).

Moreover, an untold number of Special Operation soldiers and CIA operatives died in clandestine occupations overthrowing governments or sabotaging this or that. The government won’t acknowledge these deaths. But we know they happen all the time.

By some estimates, U.S. is approaching 1.4 million soldiers killed and at least 1.5 million wounded in its 250-year history. That’s a total of 2.5 million U.S. soldiers killed or wounded, or 10,000 casualties a year on average over 250 years. Or, to put it another way, 500,000 fewer than the 3 million Vietnamese people who died — many of whom were burned alive by napalm — during the U.S. war on Vietnam. It’s also worth adding for context, that only 20 of this country’s 250-year history have been peaceful. Although, that number seems off too given the regularity of covert U.S. military operations and the frequency of drone strikes that occur without any media attention or official government acknowledgement. That’s a lot of death and destruction to reflect on during a minute of silence.

Can we “memorialize” death and destruction on such a scale? Numbers will never capture the horrors of war. Saying the words “ultimate sacrifice” over and over will not even remotely convey what it is like to die or be injured in war. What if we begin asking more specific questions about the wars and the nature of these deaths each Memorial Day?

For instance, how many soldiers died heroes saving their fellow soldiers’ lives, maybe jumping on a grenade? (There have been 3,552 Medal of Honor recipients, if that’s helpful.) How many soldiers died running out of or cowering in a trench in WWI? How many of the soldiers we are memorializing were burned alive by flame throwers? Shall we take a few minutes to think about the process of being burned alive? Aaron Bushnell, the U.S. servicemember who strongly opposed the genocide in Gaza, provided a window into the agony of such a death.

How many died begging for water, or for their mothers, with their guts hanging out after being struck by a bayonet in Korea? Up to 3 million Koreans were slaughtered by the U.S. between 1950 and 1953, if anyone is interested. How many U.S. soldiers were shot out of the sky in helicopters while in the process of killing civilians in Vietnam? Two million of the 3 million killed in Vietnam were civilians. Are we supposed to memorialize soldiers that died killing children in the same way?

How many officers were shot in the back by their own men during the invasion and occupation of the Philippines? How many died helping liberate Nazi death camps in WWII? How many soldiers were torn to shreds by cannonballs while defending slavery or fighting to abolish it in the Civil War? How many Black soldiers lost their lives fighting for the U.S. only to be buried in a segregated cemetery back home? How many died in acts of “friendly fire” — or worse, had their deaths covered up at the highest levels of government, as the Bush administration did with former NFL player Pat Tillman? How many soldiers lay dying while feelings of betrayal flooded their minds, knowing that they were taking their last breath to control Iraq’s oil in the service of making billionaires even richer? Surely at least a few soldiers had to consider that, given the blatant illegality of the war in Iraq. How many soldiers died looking up in the sky in Grenada, Haiti, the Dominican Republic, or El Salvador knowing they were meddling in the affairs of countries they had no business being in?

Consider Tomas Young’s death, which came a decade after he was shot and paralyzed in Iraq in April 2004. Does the military update official records when someone succumbs to their injuries years later? And does the U.S. count deaths by suicide years after the given war ends in its official military death toll records? Why aren’t soldiers who died of suicide after returning from Vietnam etched in the Vietnam Memorial wall? Should we memorialize U.S. servicemembers who participate in a genocide?

What about the drone operators in Las Vegas who end up killing themselves because their jobs involve eliminating civilians and soldiers alike on a mass scale in places like Yemen and Pakistan? Are drone operators soldiers, too? Either way, when they die of suicide, they are casualties of war. How many people across the country make space in their Memorial Day moment of silence to think about these questions?

There is clearly much to reflect on and memorialize — certainly way more than a minute of silence can bear. If these reflections hold any value, they depend on us being honest about the full implications of the U.S.’s imperialist wars. Otherwise, these reflections, regardless of the intention, can be perceived as an insult to the memory of those who died.

Memorial Day 2026 will help mark the 250th birthday of the United States. The government-sponsored “reflections” on the death of all those who lost their lives will carry a heightened sense of solemnity. Gary Sinise will be hosting a Memorial Day Parade in Washington, D.C. Baseball teams will be wearing camouflage hats adorned with a red poppy to commemorate the fallen. VFW halls across the country will be raising flags by the hundreds of thousands. Many stories will be told honoring those that lost their lives for the U.S. empire. Furthermore, the corporate media and the government will be exploiting all this “patriotism” to move Americans to support the troops who have helped damage or destroy 763 schools and 316 health care facilities, according to Iranian Red Crescent Society figures, in the current war in Iran.

Will space be made for veterans who are willing to share their bloody experiences of loss and destruction this Memorial Day? What about historians who study the impact of war — will they be given time at parades this Memorial Day to communicate the true cost of war? What about the innocent victims of U.S. military adventurism — will they be able to share their experiences with war?

“You can tell a true war story by its absolute and uncompromising allegiance to obscenity and evil,” Tim O’Brien, award-winning author of The Things They Carried, reminds us.

Memorializing certainly hasn’t prevented war, given that the U.S. does plenty of memorializing while U.S. leaders dream up new wars to enter before they end the ones that are ongoing. Let’s stop lying to ourselves on Memorial Day and instead try exploring the full truth about war in all its obscenity and evil. If we can’t figure out how to end the performative and hollow acknowledgement of the 1.4 million U.S. servicemembers who died, many for less-than-noble reasons, let’s just follow the lead of the kids in Lafayette Park and start calling it “Jump in the Pool Day.” At least that feels much more honest.