There’s something deeply confronting about the way we talk about war, and even more confronting about the way we treat the men who fight it.

Take Ben Roberts-Smith. Once held up as the very definition of Australian courage. A decorated war hero, a man we celebrated, a man we pointed to and said, this is what bravery looks like. And yet, in the years that followed, we watched that same man become the centre of one of the most public and divisive reckonings this country has ever seen.

Now, whatever side people take on his case, there’s a bigger issue here that we can’t ignore.

We send young Australians into war zones under the banner of duty, loyalty, and mateship. We ask them to make impossible decisions in impossible environments where the line between right and wrong is often blurred by survival. We expect them to carry out orders, to trust their leadership, and to risk everything not just their lives, but their futures, their mental health, and their place in society.

But when they come home, things change.

Suddenly, the support isn’t as strong. The understanding fades. The same nation that praised their courage can be quick to judge their actions, often from the comfort of a lounge room, far removed from the chaos of combat.

And here’s the part that sits heavy. Accountability doesn’t always fall evenly.

The men on the ground, the ones making split second decisions under fire, often carry the full weight of scrutiny. Meanwhile, those higher up the chain, the commanders, the decision makers, can at times step away from the consequences of the environments they helped create.

That imbalance is something we need to confront.

Because this isn’t about excusing wrongdoing. It’s about recognising the reality of war, the pressure placed on those we send into it, and the responsibility that sits at every level, not just the boots on the ground.

If we’re going to call them heroes when it suits us, we need to stand by them when things get complicated.

If we’re going to demand accountability, it must be shared, fairly and honestly, across the entire chain of command.

And if we truly value the men and women who serve this country, then our support for them cannot be conditional. It cannot disappear the moment the story becomes uncomfortable.

Because at the end of the day, these are Australians who were asked to do a job most of us will never fully understand.

And that deserves more than selective respect.

It deserves consistency.