The writer gratefully acknowledges this powerful, clarifying phrase—moral imperative—as the title employed by noted air power historian, and a mentor and friend, Col. Darrel D. Whitcomb (USAF, retired); see his Moral Imperative: 1972, Combat Rescue, and the End of America’s War in Vietnam.

The day after The Rescue on 5 April, Israel’s Prime Minister Netanyahu congratulated President Trump and the Americans who pulled off this daring, high-risk mission. Netanyahu said, in part:

All Israelis rejoice in the incredible rescue of a brave American pilot, by America’s dauntless warriors.[i] This proves that when free societies muster their courage, and their resolve, they can confront seemingly insurmountable odds, and overcome the forces of darkness and terror. This rescue operation reinforces a sacred principle: no one is left behind. This is a shared value demonstrated time and time again in the history of both our countries.

As the world knows, both U.S. Air Force Airmen have been rescued in Iran. As the stories begin to be disseminated, many in the audience—but, sadly, not all in the West, or in America—will listen and read with awe, pride, and patriotism. Most will do so at least until the next exciting event comes along.

The Prime Minister’s words were appropriate and inspiring. He stated, as have other early reporters, that the Israelis and Americans share “a sacred principle: no one is left behind” [emphasis added]. But so far, has anyone—including Netanyahu—made an effort to convey what I suggest to be the single most important piece of information relevant to this—or to any—rescue mission?

What could that be, but the

Question: exactly where does the moral imperative of “no one is left behind” come from?

Answer: it comes directly from the first book of the Jewish and Christian scriptures, the Book of Genesis. There we read—no less than four times—that God created man “in Our image,” or “. . . in His own image; in the image of God, He created him,” or “in the image of God He made man.”[ii]

 In these passages, mankind is said to bear the Imago Dei, the image of God. This means that the individual person, regardless of status, wealth, merit or demerit, possesses inherent value and dignity.[iii] That is why—in the West where the Jewish and Christian scriptures historically were foundational—our rock-solid commitment has been to ensure “no one is left behind.”

If one doubts this assertion, look no farther than the military traditions in the non-West—albeit some in the non-West have adopted Western military values (if not civil values in certain cases), particularly in the Far East. The reality has been, historically, that outside of the West where the cultural understanding of the Imago Dei was foundational, individual persons were valued only insofar as they were of some use to the community, society, or the state. In the military context, it was perhaps not surprising that in the Korean conflict the Soviet military placed rescue as a low priority for its MiG-15 pilots that flew against U.S./U.N. airmen.

Indeed, among the many danger signs in the West for decades has been the adoption and implementation by governments of ideas and practices grossly antithetical to the Jewish/Christian-based teachings of individual dignity which flow from the image of God in man—from abortion and euthanasia to the depriving of liberty of conscience and freedom of religion (at least for Jews and Christians). The neo-Marxist-based Diversity and Cancel Culture movements have contributed their share to this destructive trend.

So, while most once traditional markers of the West are losing ground, the “sacred principle” expressed by Prime Minister Netanyahu, for now, remains compelling among certain Western militaries, especially America and Israel’s. This no-one-left-behind principle was prominently displayed in the air for the first time during the Korean conflict, by which time technological advances made combat rescue a realistic option. The foremost technological advance for this mission was the same type of aircraft that rescued our two Airmen in Iran—the helicopter.

During World War II, as a mentor, friend, and noted air power historian Dr. Earl H. Tilford, Jr., wrote, “. . . an aircrew member downed behind enemy lines was virtually certain of capture or death.”[iv] But in Korea a few years later the young U.S. Air Force’s Air Rescue Service demonstrated with employment of its H-5 and H-19 helicopters and SA-16 amphibian fixed-wing aircraft that combat air rescue was viable. Air Rescue became “established as an integral part of U.S. fighting forces.”[v] With a few hiccups—especially in the early days of Southeast Asia and in 2014-early 2015 against ISIS in Iraq-Syria—it has remained so.[vi]  

It was also in Korea that the Air Rescue motto and the Rescue culture were born. Every Rescue member understood that should the unthinkable happen to a U.S. or U.N. airman and he was forced to leave his aircraft over enemy territory or the adversary’s waters—Rescue crews would risk their lives to fulfill their motto, “That Others May Live.” Just like last week.

But to return to the moral imperative once more. As I wrote in 2020,

In one rescue attempt in December 1969, a total of 336 sorties were flown in support of one F-4 navigator downed near Tchepone, Laos. One pararescueman died, several others were wounded. Of 10 helicopters damaged in the operation, five never flew again. As [Tilford] wrote, “Yet no one asked if the life of one man was worth all the effort.” The question was unnecessary.[vii]

The question was not required because the Western culture of the day—though it was beginning to fade—affirmed the inherent dignity of the individual, created in the Imago Dei.

Forrest L. Marion, Ph.D., is a retired military historian. He served two years as an Air Force rescue helicopter copilot in the early 1980s and has authored a number of articles covering air rescue, mostly during the Korean conflict, and published in Air Power History journal.

Notes: