In 2014, I was an infantry platoon leader with the 101st Airborne Division, deployed to Kandahar, the hometown of the Taliban. Every Tuesday night, I would make a secure phone call to my Australian counterpart to coordinate security for Wednesday’s joint mission at the governor’s compound. The plan was almost always the same: my platoon would handle the outer cordon security to the south and west; the Australian one would handle the north and east. We would conduct a bomb sweep before the meeting, while we relied on the Aussies to secure the entrance and screen incoming traffic. The Australian lieutenant and I would confirm “guest lists,” share any new threat tips, and make plans to cover each other if vehicles or key weapons went down.

Everywhere we went in the Taliban heartland was the “front lines.” Outside the wire, car bombs, snipers, and roadside bombs meant perennial danger, while rockets and insider threats kept even our bases vulnerable. I worked most closely with the Australians; we repeated our routine every Wednesday for the governor’s meeting with provincial and coalition leaders, and every other Saturday for the Kandahar security shura. But the Aussies were hardly our only partners on the base, which was abuzz with allies committed to our mission in Afghanistan.

So I was appalled to see the president’s comments last week. He might actually think that our allies weren’t on the front lines—he was shooting scenes for his reality-TV show while thousands of service members from dozens of countries were serving in Afghanistan—but that does not make it true.

Perhaps Trump should be forgiven, considering he has never seen anything remotely resembling a front line, having received multiple draft deferments from his generation’s war in Vietnam. As commander-in-chief, he presided over four years of war in Afghanistan, but only visited once: for Thanksgiving in 2019, when he spent three hours ensconced in a secured base. Three months later, he signed a peace treaty with our enemy, the Taliban, agreeing to withdraw U.S. forces.

In last week’s interview, Trump presented a false version of history, saying, “We’ve never needed them. We have never really asked anything of them.” On the contrary, our allies fought alongside us in Afghanistan precisely because we asked them to. After we were attacked on 9/11, we invoked Article 5, becoming the first—and so far, still the only—nation to ever ask for military assistance under the auspices of NATO’s collective defense commitment. Our allies responded in full force. 

Trump, apparently, has forgotten. He wondered, “Will they be there, if we ever needed them? And that’s really the ultimate test…will they be there?” There is no need to wonder. Our allies have already passed this ultimate test. But his teases and threats have given our allies legitimate reason to wonder whether America itself would pass the test. 

I was in Afghanistan after 13 years of war—long after the exciting newness wore off and as domestic political opposition raged—and we still had Czech, Lithuanian, and Polish special forces, as well as conventional Australian, British, Bulgarian, Canadian, and Romanian units with us in Kandahar. Dozens of other countries still served in other parts of Afghanistan.

Just to our west, the Taliban stronghold of Helmand Province had seen some of the heaviest fighting of the war. The British owned that sector and were primarily supported by Denmark and Estonia until U.S. Marines joined the fight as part of President Obama’s surge. The brutal fighting there led to high numbers of British casualties, contributing to their 457 dead and myriad wounded.

Two countries even sacrificed more warriors, per capita, than we did. One was our NATO ally Denmark, of Greenland fame. The other was Georgia, a country that wasn’t even treaty-bound to help, but stepped up with heroic contributions simply because it was the right thing to do.

Certainly, some countries’ militaries did serve primarily in support roles. Some sent police officers or doctors instead of infantrymen or special forces. Some put legal limits on their militaries’ involvement. Others, like Georgia, did not. Some only handled gate guard or tower duty—sharing those responsibilities with American units that also did not go outside the wire—but others were out patrolling, fighting, and advising every day. 

But regardless of their specific roles, they still came. They still served. And they still sacrificed. On one tragic day, I was in our secure operations center monitoring a Romanian unit out on patrol. The live surveillance feed showed a car bomb slamming into one of their vehicles, then detonating.

It’s indisputable that America contributed the bulk of the blood and treasure spent in our Afghanistan effort—and well we should have, considering it was America’s war in response to an attack on the American homeland.

It is embarrassing enough that we now threaten—and execute—trade wars against our closest allies, or that we try to seize land from an ally that has fought on our behalf. But it is beyond shameful and despicable to denigrate and disrespect their sacrifice as Trump has done. 

Each country spilled its own blood and treasure standing with us. Whether they lost 457 sons and daughters or—for a lucky few countries—none, our allies came when we asked for help. 

Those soldiers who did not die still sacrificed, losing time with their families; suffering traumatic stress from close calls; enduring lingering health effects from burn pits and desert haze. Many came home with life-changing injuries and wounds that would make bone spurs a luxury. Whether changed or lost, those lives all mattered. 

Australian lives matter. British lives matter. Canadian lives matter. Danish lives matter. Georgian lives matter. Lithuanian lives matter. All our friends’ and allies’ lives matter—at least, they should matter.

To all our friends and allies who joined my soldiers and me on the front lines of America’s war: Thank you for being there when we needed you most. Clearly, I cannot speak for all of my fellow countrymen, but your service and sacrifice did, does, and will always matter to me and to countless others. 

To my fellow Americans: Our allies came when we asked, they fought where we fought, and some never came home. We cannot suggest that our allies’ sacred sacrifice was lesser simply because it was not American.

The America that our allies believed in then is still the America worth being now. We can argue about the cause, conduct, or conclusion of our longest war, but we must not try to rewrite history and lie about who stood beside us when we asked. If we forget the truth, or allow it to be demeaned, we will not just dishonor our allies. We will become a country unworthy of the loyalty we once inspired. 

Micah Ables is a former active duty U.S. Army infantry officer and NATO liaison who served in Afghanistan and Eastern Europe.