In an act of vengeful patriotism, Tomas Young, a superhero-loving kid from Kansas City, enlisted in the Army after Sept. 11 to get back at the terrorists who had attacked his beloved country.
By the time he was deployed, he had begun to have misgivings. Why were we invading Iraq when it was Afghanistan that allegedly harbored our enemies? Why had Colin Powell lied through his teeth at the United Nations about weapons of mass destruction? Why were there so many civilian casualties? Why was Halliburton stock going through the roof?
With these doubts swirling in his mind he finally put his boots on the ground in Iraq. Five days later, on April 4, 2004, in an uncovered, unarmored five-ton truck in Sadr City he was hit by two rounds from an AK-47 that severed his spinal cord and paralyzed him from the waist down.
He came home with a new mission.
His journey as an antiwar hero was brought to theaters in the excellent documentary, “Body of War.” The film juxtaposes the difficult post-service life of the paraplegic Tomas, with excerpts from speeches by President George W. Bush and craven pro-war officials. They are equally painful to watch.
When Tomas reached out for permission to use my song “Battle Hymns” for the soundtrack, I was proud to oblige. We became fast friends and he introduced me to many of the other heroes of Iraq Veterans Against the War.
Battle hymns for the broken, battle hymns for the misled
Battle hymns for the wretched, the forgotten and the dead
Battle hymns of redemption of solidarity and pride
Battle hymns we will be singing at the turning of the tideCan you explain to the mothers and the fathers of those
Who come riding home in coffins in their military clothes?
Shiny medals pinned to their dead teenage chests
While the trumpets blare and you lie your best
So ask all you want from the dusk till the dawn
The answer’s still, no, ’cause, brother, I’m goneBattle hymns for the broken, battle hymns for the misled
Battle hymns for the wretched, the forgotten and the dead
Battle hymns of redemption of solidarity and pride
Battle hymns we will be singing at the turning of the tideCan you explain away the sleight of hand and the criminality
Of spending souls for oil? Well, in the mirror I can see
I am the path that leads down, I am the dark and bloody hall
I’m the reaper, executioner, hangman, judge and the law
So tie a yellow ribbon ’round the oak tree on the lawn
But the cavalry’s not comin’ ’cause, brother, they’re goneBattle hymns for the broken, battle hymns for the misled
Battle hymns for the wretched, the forgotten and the dead
Battle hymns of redemption of solidarity and pride
Battle hymns we will be singing at the turning of the tideSo I’m sharpening my shovel, I’m firing the kiln
I’m blind and I am purposeful, a martyr on the hill
The dream you might be dreaming might be someone else’s dream tonight
I’m the whisperer of misgivings, I’m the fading tail light
I’m the call for retribution from the back of the smoke filled hall
I’m the vow of bitterness, I’m the poison in the wellI’ve a photographic memory of the deeds I will avenge
I’m the cold in the river hollow, I’ve a hat-pin, I’ve a plan
I don’t care of cause or consequence, head shaved and body lean
I’m the go-getter, the score settler, I’m the shadow on the green
And there’s a flock of blackbirds flying, nearly ten thousand strong
Who set off this morning and, brother, they’re goneBattle hymns for the broken, battle hymns for the misled
Battle hymns for the wretched, the forgotten, for the dead
Battle hymns of redemption of solidarity and pride
Battle hymns we will be singing at the turning of the tide
No one speaks with a more authoritative voice than those who have sacrificed their bodies and gone through hell for an empire’s imperialist aims. Tomas took me to Walter Reed hospital, where we met shattered veterans like him. One 20-year-old man was literally blown in half.
Tomas didn’t consider himself a war hero. He was a peace hero, his every word an indictment of those who caused the Iraq war.
He tirelessly crossed the country demanding an end to all wars, the humane treatment of veterans and restitution for the people of Iraq and Afghanistan. He was deeply concerned about the harm to innocent lives both at home and abroad. Here we had a great kinship. In the aftermath of “Shock and Awe” and the invasion, I kept waiting for someone to write a song expressing that sentiment. No one did, so I wrote it myself: “No One Left.”
No One Left
Each one had a father.
There’s no one left.
A name and a mother.
No one left.Each one had a dream, a prayer on their breath.
The world’s gone black.
No one left.On the streets of Manhattan,
a dusty wind blows
letters and wishes,
a girl with a rose.On the streets of Baghdad,
a dusty wind blows
letters and wishes,
a girl with a rose.Each one had a father.
There’s no one left.
A name and a mother.
No one left.Each one had a dream,
a prayer on their breath.
The world’s gone black.
No one left.Fire and vengeance
in the New York sky above
stole my angel,
stole my true love.Fire and vengeance
in the Baghdad sky above
stole his angel,
stole his true love.Each one had a father.
There’s no one left.
A name and a mother.
No one left.Each one had a dream,
a prayer on their breath.
The world’s gone black.
No one left.I stand out on my front porch.
I look up at the sky.
Will my world go black
in the blink of an eye?
He stands out in the desert.
He looks up at the sky.
Will his world go black
in the blink of an eye?Each one had a father.
There’s no one left.
A name and a mother.
No one left.Each one had a dream,
a prayer on their breath.
The world’s gone black.
No one left.Each one had a wish.
Each one had a home.
Each one had a name,
a name and a rose.
At one point, some of Tomas’s rock ’n’ roll friends offered to get him a fancy wheelchair that was more comfortable for his travels, but he refused to take it — “Other veterans don’t get this, so why should I get special treatment?”
And then he had a pulmonary embolism.
Now nearly fully paralyzed and having trouble speaking, Tomas, like so many of his fellow veterans, contemplated ending it all. He made plans to enter hospice and have his feeding tube removed but wanted to give his friends a chance to say goodbye. He also had one more thing to say: On the 10th anniversary of the Iraq War, he published his “Last Letter” to George Bush and Dick Cheney.
I believe it is the most effective piece of antiwar literature written in 50 years:
I write this letter, my last letter, to you, Mr. Bush and Mr. Cheney. I write not because I think you grasp the terrible human and moral consequences of your lies, manipulation and thirst for wealth and power. I write this letter because, before my own death, I want to make it clear that I, and hundreds of thousands of my fellow veterans, along with millions of my fellow citizens, along with hundreds of millions more in Iraq and the Middle East, know fully who you are and what you have done. You may evade justice but in our eyes you are each guilty of egregious war crimes, of plunder and, finally, of murder, including the murder of thousands of young Americans — my fellow veterans — whose future you stole.
If he had not been sent to Iraq, he continued:
I would not have to lie in my bed, my body filled with painkillers, my life ebbing away, and deal with the fact that hundreds of thousands of human beings, including children, including myself, were sacrificed by you for little more than the greed of oil companies, for your alliance with the oil sheikhs in Saudi Arabia, and your insane visions of empire.
From his deathbed, Tomas’s voice thundered louder for peace and justice than 1,000 exploding drones.
It would have been easy for me to say “Hey, Tomas, you should live 50 more years and give speeches.” But I didn’t have to live in that body on a daily basis, so I just tried to respect his wishes. I played a final concert in his honor, dedicating “Stray Bullets” and “Until the End” to him.
Tomas hung on for a while longer, and then on Nov. 10, 2014, he passed away peacefully in the company of his beloved wife, Claudia Cuellar.
I sent Bruce Springsteen Tomas’s letter, and that night Bruce opened his set with “Devils and Dust” and “Last to Die,” two powerful reminders of the sadness and madness of war. Eddie Vedder’s cover of Bob Dylan’s “Masters of War” also expressed the tears of rage many of us felt at Tomas’s passing.
Tomas was a great dude to talk with, and hang out with, and laugh with, and read comics with, and struggle for peace with. He set an example that I hope will help save others and may even prevent future conflicts. Tomas loved superheroes and also was one.
Tom Morello is an American musician, singer, rapper, songwriter, actor, and political activist. He is best known for his tenure with the rock band Rage Against the Machine and then with Audioslave. Between 2016 and 2019, Morello was a member of the supergroup Prophets of Rage.