The Capitol Caller Part II: Will the Military Brass Answer the Call?
When your grandchildren ask, “Grandpa, what did you do when democracy was breaking?” What will you say?
Editor’s Note: This piece is written in the style of Hanoi Hannah, who made English-language radio broadcasts for North Vietnam during the Vietnam War directed at United States troops.
Good evening, Generals. Good evening, Admirals.
The men and women in your ranks might have told you about me.
This is the Capitol Caller — not broadcasting from Moscow, not from Tehran, or Pyongyang — but from the heart of your own Republic. And last week, you found yourselves gathered not by chance, not by necessity, but by command — from an intoxicated buffoon at that.
Every one of you. Stars, stripes, and service records dating back decades, were summoned into a single room. Think about that. Think about what it means to pull the entire brain trust of the American military into one fragile space. The architects of Pacific strategy. The custodians of NATO. The overseers of nuclear command and control. All there, under one roof.
Do you not feel the weight of that danger? Do you not feel how reckless this is with Kash Patel at the helm of the FBI? With ICE Barbie leading Homeland Security?
For generations, your predecessors avoided such a spectacle for one reason: survival. You all know this. A single strike here could’ve decapitated American defense. A drone, a bomb, even a lone gunman could’ve taken more from this nation than any tragedy in recent memory. Yet you sat there anyway, because the order came down from a tyrant. Because optics mattered more to those above you than the safety of the Republic or even your own ranks.
And what are you told the purpose is? “Warrior ethos?” “Standards?” Grooming. Discipline. You, the brass of the United States military, reduced to props in a Trump owned pageant. Do you not see the theater? Do you not see the ink of loyalty oaths scribbled in the margins?
Generals, Admirals — this is not about readiness, and you know that. This is not about the lethality of our men and women in uniform. This is about obedience. It is about bringing you to heel for one man and his chosen agent. Pete Hegseth did not summon you here to sharpen your skills. He summoned you to sharpen his control.
Ask yourselves: to whom does your loyalty belong? The Constitution you swore to uphold? The young airmen, seaman, marines, and soldiers you swore to lead? Or the man behind the curtain so desperate to consolidate his grip?
To get to this position, you have all studied history. They teach it at your war colleges. You know the roll call of nations where generals traded their oath for proximity to power:
Germany, 1934, when officers swore personal allegiance to Hitler, and the Wehrmacht became a political tool.
Chile, 1973, when Pinochet stood at attention before tanks rolled against his own people.
Turkey, 1980, when generals cloaked themselves in the rhetoric of order while extinguishing freedoms.
You know where this path leads. You have lectured on it, written about it, tested students on it. And today, you sat on its threshold.
What will you tell yourselves? That this was harmless? That this was “just a meeting”? That your oath wasn’t broken by nodding along to speeches on discipline and purity? That’s how it begins. Not with a shot, but with acquiescence. Not with martial law on day one, but with a gathering where no one stands to object.
Look beside you. Look at the rows of medals, the decades of sacrifice across presidents of both political parties. Do you see colleagues, or do you see hostages? Do you know which of them will resist when the order comes down to police your own people? To crush dissent? To guard the marble halls of our nation from the people demanding their rights?
And when that order comes down — for it will — what will you do?
The Capitol Caller: Good evening, Soldiers …
Editor’s Note: This piece is written in the style of Hanoi Hannah, who made English-language radio broadcasts for North Vietnam during the Vietnam War directed at United States troops.
Generals, Admirals … remember your oath. It was not to Donald Trump, a man that dodged the very loyalties and oaths you swore to protect. It was not to Pete Hegseth. It was not to any party or politician. It was to the Constitution. To the People. To the idea that civilian control exists not to serve the vanity of one man, but to preserve the country itself.
Consider the faces beyond this hall. The young captain in Poland, watching NATO allies shift as American generals are herded like school children into a loyalty test. The lieutenant commander on a destroyer in the South China Sea, wondering if her leaders still serve strategy or only ego. The sergeant major at Fort Hood, asking whether the men at the top still believe in anything greater than their own careers.
They are watching you at this moment. They are measuring you. If you bend, they will break.
And think of your families. When your grandchildren ask, “Grandpa, what did you do when democracy was breaking?” What will you say? That you stood tall? Or that you sat silently while the Republic was reduced to a stage prop for loyalty to one man?
History will not remember the excuses. History will not print the footnotes of “just following orders.” History will only remember what you did and who you served.
Last week, you sat in Quantico, but the echoes stretch to every capital on earth. Beijing was watching. Moscow was watching. Tehran was watching. They saw a United States that has concentrated its leadership in one hall, degraded its counterintelligence with political hacks, and exposed its own generals to danger for the sake of a photo op. They saw weakness. They saw us losing our footing on the global stage. They see opportunity.
And they smile.
Generals. Admirals. You stand at the hinge of history. You can be remembered as guardians of this great nation, or the curriers of a regime. You can head back to your troops as independent commanders bound to the Constitution or as props in a loyalty parade.
The choice is yours. The oath is yours. The burden is yours.
This is the Capitol Caller, signing off. But remember: I don’t need to linger to haunt you. My words will return in the silence of your offices, in the pause between meetings, in the questions your families will one day ask.
And when that moment comes, you’ll think of me.
Sleep well, Generals. Sleep well, Admirals.
Evan Fields is a veteran who writes the Fourth & Democracy and Weekly Wrap newsletters for Lincoln Square and the News from Underground Substack.
The Silence of the Generals
Here’s the thing, and you know it in your bones: That speech was insane. Not “politician riffing” insane. Not “grandpa got a little too stoked on Adderall” insane.
Good writing technique to make a point. I believe each person in the audience, bound by experience and oath, was fortified against the ham-handed approach to instill fear masquerading as inspiration or leadership. They each recognized a political meeting was not a military planning session. I would not worry about how their subordinates might react, too. By this time, most have forgotten the day and are just doing what they do. On the other hand, dealing with incoming recruits has become more challenging. What is the mindset of those with limited education and experience battered by the upheavals of our times that have exaggerated the problems always faced by youth? Recruit training must be intense and geared to removing the unqualified and incompetent.
Many military leaders know this much: we are destroying ourselves. Looks like they will watch while America burns.