The Army Hasn’t Carried Out a Death Row Execution Since 1961. Maybe It Should.

The U.S. Army has quietly done something that most Americans probably didn’t realize was necessary: it has updated its plans for carrying out military executions.

According to recent reporting, the service has developed a detailed framework—dubbed “Operation Resolute Justice“—to execute the four inmates currently sitting on military death row if the President authorizes their death warrants. If carried out, it would be the first military execution in more than 65 years. For some, that’s a disturbing development.

But for others, it’s long overdue.

I’m generally skeptical of government power. Any veteran who has spent enough time dealing with military bureaucracy develops a healthy distrust of institutions… and I mean ALL institutions. But there is also a simple question that deserves an honest answer:

If the military justice system is going to retain the death penalty, at what point should it actually be used?

Because right now, we have created a system that imposes death sentences but rarely carries them out.

The military’s death row contains only four inmates. These are not borderline cases or administrative mistakes. They include men convicted of mass murder, serial rape and murder, and acts of extraordinary violence against fellow service members. Their convictions have survived decades of appeals through military and civilian courts.

One of the most notorious is Nidal Hasan, the Army major who murdered 13 people and wounded dozens more at Fort Hood in 2009 while screaming out the terrorist battle cry of Allah Akbar. After years of appeals, even the Supreme Court has declined to intervene further. Yet Hasan remains alive.

So do the others. And that’s where the contradiction becomes impossible to ignore.

Military justice is built on a foundation of discipline, accountability, and trust. Service members are routinely told that standards matter. Orders matter. Consequences matter. But what message is sent when the ultimate punishment remains on the books while the institution demonstrates no willingness to carry it out?

Either the sentence is legitimate or it isn’t. If it isn’t, Congress should abolish the military death penalty entirely and replace it with life imprisonment without parole. But if it is legitimate, then endless delay undermines the credibility of the system itself.

Critics raise serious objections. They point to historical racial disparities in military executions and broader concerns about capital punishment. Those concerns deserve consideration. America’s history with the death penalty—both military and civilian—is not spotless. During portions of the 1950s and early 1960s, racial disparities in military executions were undeniable.

But historical injustices do not automatically invalidate every future death sentence.

The military justice system of 2026 bears little resemblance to the one that existed in 1961. Today’s capital cases receive years—often decades—of appellate review. Military death sentences must survive multiple layers of scrutiny and ultimately require presidential approval before an execution can proceed.

In fact, one could argue that the opposite problem now exists. The system has become so cautious, so procedurally layered, and so hesitant to act that a death sentence often functions as little more than a symbolic gesture. Justice delayed is not always justice denied. But after twenty or thirty years of litigation, there comes a point when delay becomes its own form of institutional paralysis.

The families of victims understand this better than anyone.

For them, every appeal hearing reopens old wounds. Every postponement reminds them that the process never seems to end. Every year that passes reinforces the perception that the system values procedural finality more than actual finality.

The military asks extraordinary things of its people.It asks young Americans to deploy into combat zones. It asks them to accept hardship, sacrifice, and risk. Most importantly, it asks them to trust that standards will be enforced fairly and consistently. That trust cuts both ways. If the military believes certain crimes are so heinous that they warrant the ultimate punishment, then it should have the courage to carry out those sentences once every appeal has been exhausted.

And if it lacks that courage—or if society has concluded that capital punishment is morally wrong—then it should remove the penalty altogether. As an Army, we should never have rules we don’t enforce, or penalties on the books that we never mete out. Either do the thing, or don’t. But don’t say you’re going to and then never do it. That undermines the whole system.

I think reasonable people can disagree on the death penalty argument. But what makes little sense is the middle ground we’ve occupied for more than six decades. A death penalty that is never used is not really a punishment. It’s a statement. The Army hasn’t carried out an execution since 1961. The question isn’t whether that’s a long time. The question is whether the military still believes in the sentence it continues to hand down.

If the answer is yes, then maybe it’s time to act like it.

---

Charles served over 27 years in the US Army, which included seven combat tours in Iraq and Afghanistan with various Special Operations Forces units and two stints as an instructor at the United States Military Academy at West Point. He also completed operational tours in Egypt, the Philippines, and the Republic of Korea and earned a Doctor of Business Administration from Temple University as well as a Master of Arts in International Relations from Yale University. He is the owner of The Havok Journal, and the views expressed herein are his own and do not reflect those of the US Government or any other person or entity.

As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.