succinctly to your point, from a St. Louis pulmonologist also in crtical care:

edit to add a reply to him that also uses wartime language:

It's not hyperbole.

I think you are a bit hard on Biden for his actions in this particular incidence, especially if you are willing to grade on a curve. Possibly the end could have been handled more successfully but any course decided on had its gambles and possible worse outcomes. When was the last time that a major military venture by the U.S. went well and demonstrated skill, efficiency, and competence?  Biden must have made some deal with the Taliban to get the last plane out of the last place where the defeated American troops were corraled. He did so and the last plane was ALLOWED to leave under protection without, at the very least, getting its tires slashed as it taxied away with the last planeload of American troops whose security, to whatever level it could be provided, came from the Taliban, one of the forces that had combined to defeat them after twenty years of fighting. Perfect security was not possible. Thirteen more Americans died in an attempt to leave with as few casualties as possible, [after a few thousand died in an impossible 20 year quest] but the last airplane full of military personal, soldiers who were in that instance powerless to defend themselves, did get away. America somewhat saved face and internal political termoil to a hugely greater extent than if it had been grounded, or worse shot down, as it tried to leave and a great many more had died. 

I read the whole article, thank you for pointing it out. Then (as I am a subscriber) I went on to read this book review there which WHOA, gave me a whole different perspective immediately, (and you don't have to go back that long ago, it starts with a shocking WWII perspective.) No surprise the review is by good ol' Dexter Filkins:

Did Making the Rules of War Better Make the World Worse?

Why efforts to curb the cruelty of military force may have backfired.

As we fixate narrowly on abuses, critics say, wars have become easier to start and harder to stop

By Dexter Filkins September 6, 2021

On the evening of March 9, 1945, the United States sent an armada of B-29 Superfortresses toward Japan, which for months had resisted surrender, even as a naval blockade brought much of the population to the brink of starvation. The B-29s were headed for Tokyo, and carried napalm, chosen for the mission because so many of the city’s inhabitants lived in houses made of wood. The bombing ignited a firestorm that sent smoke miles into the sky; the glow was visible for a hundred and fifty miles. In six hours, as many as a hundred thousand civilians were killed, and a million others were left without homes. In the words of the raid’s architect, Major General Curtis LeMay, the Japanese were “scorched and boiled and baked to death.” Five months later, the United States bombed Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and Japan surrendered.

If the U.S. undertook such a campaign these days, worldwide revulsion would be intense and long lasting. In the past half century, war waged by states has become more humane. Shifting international standards, codified in treaties like the Geneva Conventions, have mirrored a trend among military commanders to choose targets carefully, and to spare civilians whenever possible. Improvements in bomb accuracy have made it easier to focus on military targets.

Most people would consider this a positive development. Samuel Moyn, a professor of history and of jurisprudence at Yale, believes that we have less to celebrate than we might imagine. In his book “Humane: How the United States Abandoned Peace and Reinvented War” (Farrar, Straus & Giroux), he suggests that this new form of warfare is so civilized that it has reduced our incentive to stop fighting. “The American way of war is more and more defined by a near complete immunity from harm for one side and unprecedented care when it comes to killing people on the other,” he writes. “America’s military operations have become more expansive in scope and perpetual in time by virtue of these very facts.” Ours is an era of endless conflict, whose ideal symbol is the armed drone—occasionally firing a missile, which may kill the wrong people, but too far removed from everyday American life to rouse public objections.

The dilemma posed by Moyn belongs to the modern age. Killing is what armies do, and, in the usual course of things, the more they kill the sooner their wars end. In the first two Punic Wars, Rome and Carthage fought in battlegrounds outside their population centers; in the third, the Romans contrived an excuse to lay siege to Carthage, and slaughtered its inhabitants. There wasn’t a fourth. For Clausewitz, the Prussian military theorist, the whole point of fighting was not just to repel the enemy but to destroy it; theoretically, at least, war knows no limits.

In the United States, generals took a page from Clausewitz, applying maximum force to secure military objectives. During the Civil War, General William Tecumseh Sherman, who set fire to Atlanta, believed he was entitled to do anything in pursuit of victory, because he was fighting against an enemy that had begun an unjust war. He vowed to “make Georgia howl.” In the Second World War [....]

Put this old article together with Gopal's and you get a picture of our military wrongly interpreting the culture of the frighening warlord bully types as the culture at large; beginning excerpt following tweet:

KABUL, Afghanistan — In his last phone call home, Lance Cpl. Gregory Buckley Jr. told his father what was troubling him: From his bunk in southern Afghanistan, he could hear Afghan police officers sexually abusing boys they had brought to the base.

“At night we can hear them screaming, but we’re not allowed to do anything about it,” the Marine’s father, Gregory Buckley Sr., recalled his son telling him before he was shot to death at the base in 2012. He urged his son to tell his superiors. “My son said that his officers told him to look the other way because it’s their culture.”

Rampant sexual abuse of children has long been a problem in Afghanistan, particularly among armed commanders who dominate much of the rural landscape and can bully the population. The practice is called bacha bazi, literally “boy play,” and American soldiers and Marines have been instructed not to intervene — in some cases, not even when their Afghan allies have abused boys on military bases, according to interviews and court records.

The policy has endured as American forces have recruited and organized Afghan militias to help hold territory against the Taliban. But soldiers and Marines have been increasingly troubled that instead of weeding out pedophiles, the American military was arming them in some cases and placing them as the commanders of villages — and doing little when they began abusing children [....]